But as the sun slowly， slowly climbed up to the top of the sky and then slowly， slowly began going downwards to the West， and no one came and nothing at all happened， he began to get more and more anxious. And of course he now realized that when they arranged to wait for one another at the Tombs no one had said anything about how long. He couldn‘t wait here for the rest of his life！ And soon it would be dark again， and he would have another night just like last night. A dozen different plans went through his head， all wretched ones， and at last he fixed on the worst plan of all. He decided to wait till it was dark and then go back to the river and steal as many melons as he could carry and set out for Mount Pire alone， trusting for his direction to the line he had drawn that morning in the sand. It was a crazy idea and if he had read as many books as you have about journeys over deserts he would never have dreamed of it. But Shasta had read no books at all.
