Then the dreamer rolled out a string of what may be called
gibberish, seeing that it consisted of fragments of words and was
unintelligible, followed by,--
"The coon's eating the pork--no, he's b-b-b-barking it! Hu-loo-oo!"
"Oh, say, Chick, give us a chance! We can't sleep with you chirping into
our ears."
It was Cyrus who spoke, shaking with drowsy laughter, and Cyrus's big
hand gently shook the dreamer's arm.
"What? what? wh-wh-at?" gasped Dol, awaking. "I wasn't talking out loud,
was I?"
"Not talking aloud! Well, I should smile!" answered the camp captain.
"You were making as much noise as a loon, and that's the noisiest thing
I know. Go to sleep again, young one, and don't have any more crazy
spells before dinner-time."
Cyrus removed his hand, shut his eyes, and in a minute or two was
breathing heavily. Neal, who had been aroused too, followed his
example, laughing and mumbling something about "it's being an old trick
of Dol's to hunt in his sleep."
But the junior member of the party remained awake. After his dreams had
been dissipated he cared no more for slumber.
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