large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_3_blackwood_cb_64kb_148
large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_3_blackwood_cb_64kb
English
1336
The night, otherwise, was very still, and the sea quiet as a lake. I remember that I was conscious, peculiarly conscious, of this host of desolate islands crowding about us in the darkness, and that we were the one little spot of humanity in a rather wonderful kind of wilderness. THE NIGHT OTHERWISE WAS VERY STILL AND THE SEA QUIET AS A LAKE I REMEMBER THAT I WAS CONSCIOUS PARTICULARLY CONSCIOUS OF THIS HOST OF DESOLATE ISLANDS CROWDING ABOUT US IN THE DARKNESS AND THAT WE WERE THE ONE LITTLE SPOT OF HUMANITY IN A RATHER WONDERFUL KIND OF WILDERNESS
. The wind and rain had ceased, but the dripping of the branches still kept up an excellent imitation of a downpour. In particular, Maloney was vigilant and alert, telling us a series of tales in which the wholesome humorous element was especially strong. He lingered, too, behind with me after Sangree had gone to bed, and while I mixed myself a glass of hot Swedish punch, he did a thing I had never known him do before—he mixed one for himself, and then asked me to light him over to his tent. We said nothing on the way, but I felt that he was glad of my companionship. I returned alone to the stockade, and for a long time after that kept the fire blazing, and sat up smoking and thinking. I hardly knew why; but sleep was far from me for one thing, and for another, an idea was taking form in my mind that required the comfort of tobacco and a bright fire for its growth. I lay against a corner of the stockade seat, listening to the wind whispering and to the ceaseless drip-drip of the trees. INSTANT ALLOWED TO GET LOW THE WIND AND RAIN HAD CEASED BUT THE DRIPPING OF THE BRANCHES STILL KEPT UP AN EXCELLENT IMITATION OF A DOWNPOUR IN PARTICULAR MALONEY WAS VIGILANT AND ALERT TELLING US A SERIES OF TALES IN WHICH THE WHOLESOME HUMOROUS ELEMENT WAS ESPECIALLY STRONG HE LINGERED TOO BEHIND WITH ME AFTER SANGREE HAD GONE TO BED AND WHILE I MIXED MYSELF A GLASS OF HOT SWEDISH PUNCH HE DID A THING I HAD NEVER KNOWN HIM TO DO BEFORE HE MIXED ONE FOR HIMSELF AND THEN ASKED ME TO LIGHT HIM OVER TO HIS TENT WE SAID NOTHING ON THE WAY BUT I FELT HE WAS GLAD OF MY COMPANIONSHIP I RETURNED ALONE TO THE STOCKADE AND FOR A LONG TIME AFTER THAT KEPT THE FIRE BLAZING AND SAT UP SMOKING AND THINKING I HARDLY KNEW WHY BUT SLEEP WAS FAR FROM ME FOR ONE THING AND FOR ANOTHER AN IDEA WAS TAKING FORM IN MY MIND THAT REQUIRED THE COMFORT OF TOBACCO AND A BRIGHT FIRE FOR ITS GROWTH I LAY AGAINST A CORNER OF THAT STOCKADE SEAT LISTENING TO THE WIND WHISPERING INTO THE CEASELESS DRIP DRIP OF THE TREES
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