Day is beginning to dawn, and the sun is now rising, giving promise of a glorious day, we return to disturb the slumbers of Conning, Ramsay and Melville, who are to act as guard till 5 a.m.
As I go off to sleep for the second time Conning comes in with some Raspberries he wakes Cargill and gives him a handful, while Cargill, though very profuse in his thanks, does not seem to understand the favour that is being done him, for when Conning goes out again he lays his head down on the berries to awaken in the morning to the fact that his face is covered with red juice and an occasional berry sticking in his hair.
The return of the guard wakens the whole tent, and we all get up to prepare breakfast.
McLean goes of to a neighbouring farm to purchase eggs, while we busy ourselves gathering firewood and getting water.
"Good morning Gentlemen", the old lady from over the way appears at the tent door with a pitcher of milk, and we sit down to our second meal at camp.
Conning's "Rasps" now occupies the minds of a few and they go off in search of them while we others lay basking in the sun.
"Who will clean the potatoes", somebody volunteers some other body is to watch the rice while it boils and we sit round the fire for two hours patiently waiting dinner.
At last, it is ready the potatoes and cold meat taste splendidly, but the rice is slightly burned, and the cook lets us understand he likes it best when it has been singed as he called it.
The brushing of boots and dressing now take up everybody's attention. I hear Conning bemoaning the fact that he has left his fancy vest behind. With a far away look in his eyes he tells us of its splendour, the beautiful white background the soft yellow check, dotted here and there with pearl buttons.
The village of Coupar Angus is somewhat disappointing though the surrounding districts are very pretty, but here again Conning gives vent to his disapproval as this ancient parish cannot at the present moment boast of the very necessary establishment of a vendor of fried fish and chip potatoes to that delicious repast he informed me in a sudden burst of confidence he was devoted.
There is a shout from the road at this moment and we see coming through the gate another member in the person of Corporal J. Rodger, who has cycled up to meet us here.
We start to pitch another tent as there is not room enough in one to hold us all, this does not take long, and in ten minutes it is ready. Our friend the landsteward (Mr Hogg) again visits us, and he wishes to know if we are all comfortable, we inform him we are getting on splendidly, and he leaves with us some honey which we enjoy at tea.
As we have all returned to camp again we light a candle and indulge in the Singing of hymns followed in hot pursuit by a "Flute duet" and a "Solo" on the Melodeon which though not always having a large amount of the sacred element yet being rendered with a certain excellence.
Having exhausted our vocal powers and gradually relapsed into silence we one by one move off to bed and soon again the camp is wrapped in quietness.
The stillness was broken by a burst of laughter from the first tent the cause being Ferguson telling some huge joke and though being asked over and over again to tell the story once more he steadfastly refused.
At 11 p.m. I returned to waken Boyd and McLean, who get up with the intention of keeping guard till 1 a.m. but after 5 minutes they come back to say that there is nobody about and it is very cold suggesting they would be better in bed, so we sleep that night without a guard and better than the first.