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a quiet business, for most of the men were asleep. Women were stirring in the caravans, the majority seizing the moment to wash clothes—already a queer assortment of garments could be seen drying on the wire fence of the orchard: but they worked noiselessly, so that the tired men could rest. Two tents, hurriedly pitched, were full of sleeping forms: others were rolled in blankets under the lorries, a steady snoring filling the air. George, the "bull-man," lay near his elephants, which, having finished their ration, now swayed drowsily from side to side, their little eyes half-closed.

"Don't they ever keep still?" Hugh whispered. The elephants fascinated him.

"No—they always rock like that. I don't like them as much as horses. But I like the cats."

"The lions? Oh, can I see them?" They raced across to the great wheeled cages, drawn up so that the sun could shine full upon their occupants. There were five; two lions and three lionesses, all in good condition for menagerie animals. They also were asleep, save the largest lion. He lay with his muzzle against the bars, looking fixedly out across the sunlit field—thinking, perhaps long thoughts of freedom and great spaces. Even when the children came close to the cage he did not favor them with a glance.

"That's Nabob," Nita said. "O-oh, he's a cross old lion! We haven't had him long. He hurt a man in his last Circus—clawed him something awful!"

Hugh experienced a shivery feeling as though some-

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