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IT was nearly noon on the following day when Shasta was wakened by something warm and soft moving over his face. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the long face of a horse; its nose and lips were almost touching his. He remembered the exciting events of the previous night and sat up. But as he did so he groaned.
"Ow, Bree," he gasped."I'm so sore.All over.I can hardly move."
"Good morning, small one," said Bree. "I was afraid you might feel a bit stiff. It can't be the falls. You didn't have more than a dozen or so, and it was all lovely, soft springy turf that must have been almost a pleasure to fall on. And the only one that might have been nasty was broken by that gorse bush. No, it' s the riding itself that comes hard at first. What about breakfast ? I' ve had mine."
"Oh bother breakfast.Bother everything," said Shasta."I tell you I can't move. " But the horse nuzzled at him with its nose and pawed him gently with a hoof till he had to get up. And then he looked about him and saw where they were. Behind them lay a little copse. Before them the turf, dotted with white flowers, sloped down to the brow of a cliff. Far below them, so that the sound of the breaking waves was very faint, lay the sea. Shasta had never seen it from such a height and never seen so much of it before, nor dreamed how many colours it had. On either hand the coast stretched away, headland after headland, and at the points you could see the white foam running up the rocks but making no noise because it was so far off. There were gulls flying overhead and the heat shivered on the ground;it was a blazing day. But what Shasta chiefly noticed was the air. He couldn't think what was missing, until at last he realized that there was no smell of fish in it. For of course, neither in the cottage nor among the nets, had he ever been away from that smell in his life. And this new air was so delicious, and all his old life seemed so far away, that he forgot for a moment about his bruises and his aching muscles and said:
"I say, Bree, didn't you say something about breakfast ?"
"Yes, I did," answered Bree."I think you'll find something in the saddle-bags. They're over there on that tree where you hung them up last night—or early this morning, rather. "
They investigated the saddle-bags and the results were cheering—a meat pasty, only slightly stale, a lump of dried figs and another lump of green cheese,a little flask of wine, and
some money;about forty crescents in all, which was more than Shasta had ever seen.
While Shasta sat down-painfully and cautiously-with his back against a tree and started on the pasty, Bree had a few more mouthfuls of grass to keep him company.
"Won't it be stealing to use the money ?" asked Shasta.
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