1. My Recall

           Wewerebothofusnotalittlestiffastheresultofsleepingoutintheopenallthatnight,foreveninGrandCanarythedew-fallandthecomparativechillofdarknessarenottobetrifledwith.FormyselfontheseoccasionsIlikeabitofarunasanearlyrefresher.Buthereonthisroughgroundinthemiddleoftheislandtherewerenotthreeyardsofleveltobefound,andsoasCoppingerproceededtogothroughsomesortofdumb-bellexerciseswithacoupleoflumpsofbristlylava,Ifollowedhisexample.Coppingerhasdoneagooddealofroughingitinhistime,butbeingadoctorofmedicineamongstotherthings—hetakesoutanewdegreeofsomesortonanaverageeveryotheryear—heisgreatonhealththeories,andpractisesthemlikeareligion.

           Therehadbeenraintwodaysbefore,andastherewasstillabitofstreamtricklingalongatthebottomofthebarranca,wewentdownthereandhadawash,andbrushedourteeth.Greatestluxuryimaginable,atoothbrush,onthissortofexpedition.

           “Now,”saidCoppingerwhenwehademptiedourpockets,“there’spreciouslittlegrubleft,andit’snonethebetterforbeingcarriedinalocalSpanishnewspaper.”

           “Yoursismostlytobaccoashes.”

           “It’llgetworseifweleaveit.We’vealotmorebadscramblingaheadofus.”

           Thatwasobvious.Sowesatdownbesidethestreamthereatthebottomofthebarranca,andateupallofwhatwasleft.