Bob shook his head dubiously, and Emu Bill seemed to have thought of the matter for the first time. Mackay alone seemed confident in his knowledge.
"It's a sure proof, Jack," said he, "that beyond the mountain there must be a different kind o' country, a country o' forests and rivers, maybe, and our Eldorado."
CHAPTER XV The Secret of the Mountain
It was well into the afternoon before their gruesome task was accomplished, and the sun shone far down in the Western sky when they returned to the camp. They had carried the deceased warriors out into the sandy tracts beyond the boiling springs. It cannot be said that they were unduly sympathetic with the slain, and certainly they were anything but enamoured of their self-imposed contract, but the alternative would have been extremely disagreeable.
"I have no doubt their brethren would have come for them to-night," said Bob, "and saved us a good deal of trouble—if we could only have depended on them going peaceably away again."
"Ay, if," agreed Mackay, dryly. "But their coming would only mean more funerals, Bob, and as for that, I believe they've been trying to force that patent door of theirs before now."
He turned and gazed towards the fissure at the base of the mountain, and at that moment there distinctly came a sound therefrom as of the jarring of rocks under pressure. They all kept perfect silence for a minute or two, and again the sound was repeated, but this time it was succeeded by the sharp rattle of falling boulders.
"That's the top o' our barricade down, I reckon," whispered the Shadow, reaching gingerly for his rifle.