"Ma fé, it may be days! We must take food--"

"There is a pie and a ham, and I made bread and gâche to-day," said Aunt
Jeanne, picking up a big basket and beginning to pack it with all she could
think of and lay hands on.

"Water?" asked Carette.

"Plenty of water, both salt and fresh," said Uncle George.

"All the same, a can of milk won't hurt," said Aunt Jeanne. "Carette, ma
fille, fill the biggest you can find."

"And Mistress Falla will give us two sacks of hay to soften the rocks,"
said Uncle George, "and a lantern and some candles, lest they get
frightened of one another in the dark,"--which I knew could never happen.
All the same, Carette asked, "Is it dark there _all_ the time?"

"Not quite dark all the time, but a light is cheerful."

"Lend me a pipe, Uncle George," I said, and the good fellow emptied his
pockets for me.




CHAPTER XXXII

HOW WE WENT TO EARTH