There he saw a tent, with all the accompaniments of a well ordered camp, and a man cooking breakfast on a small fire.
"Well, I'll be combusticated!" he said to himself, weakly holding to a little poplar tree.
"I say!" he cried, "where is he?
Has he come in?
Is he all right ?" "Who ?" said the man at the fire.
"The boy on the rock." The man gazed at him astonished, then as if suddenly grasping his meaning, replied, "Yes, he came in.

He's dressing in the tent." "Well, I'll be condumbusticated!" said the man.

"Say! what the devil does he mean by scaring people out of their senses in that way!" The man at the fire stood gazing at him in an utterly bewildered way.
"If you will tell me exactly what you are after, I may be able to help you." The other drew slowly near the fire.

He was still pale, and breathing quickly.
"Hello, dad, is breakfast ready ?" came a cheery voice from the tent.
"Thank God, he is alive apparently," said the man, sinking down on a log beside the fire.

"You must pardon me, sir," he said.