They were out of the lower timber country now, and were in a valley through which a shallow stream wriggled and twisted around white sand-bars and between pebbly shores.
Neewa was sleepless.

He had less desire than ever to waste a glorious afternoon in napping.

With his little round eyes he looked out on a wonderful world, and found it calling to him.

He looked at his mother, and whined.

Experience told him that she was dead to the world for hours to come, unless he tickled her foot or nipped her ear, and then she would only rouse herself enough to growl at him.