not had time to do any real damage. They had got out most of the
eatables and spread them on a flat rock in preparation for a feast;
and they had tracked a good deal of mud into the van; but otherwise
I could see nothing amiss. So while Mifflin busied himself with
Peg's foot it was easy for me to get a meal under way. I found a
gush of clean water trickling down the face of the rock. There were
still some eggs and bread and cheese in the little cupboard, and an
unopened tin of condensed milk. I gave Peg her nose bag of oats, and
fed Bock, who was frisking about in high spirits. By that time the
shoeing was done, and the Professor and I sat down to an improvised
meal. I was beginning to feel as if this gipsy existence were the
normal course of my life.

"Well, Professor," I said, as I handed him a cup of coffee and a
plate of scrambled eggs and cheese, "for a man who slept in a wet
haystack, you acquit yourself with excellent valour."

"Old Parnassus is quite a stormy petrel," he said. "I used to think
the chief difficulty in writing a book would be to invent things to
happen, but if I were to sit down and write the adventures I'd had
with her it would be a regular Odyssey."

"How about Peg's foot?" I asked. "Can she travel on it?"

"It'll be all right if you go easy. I've scraped out the injured
part and put the shoe back. I keep a little kit of tools under the
van for emergencies of all sorts."

It was chilly, and we didn't dawdle over our meal. I only made a
feint of eating, as I had had a little breakfast before, and also