“What do you think we should do?” Willie asked. “Turn back as Pedro suggests.”
“If I were alone, I’d be sorely tempted to go on. I confess I have a feeling—call it a hunch, if you will—that we’re close to our goal.”
“I’ve had the same feeling!” Jack asserted.
“But we can’t depend on hunches,” Mr. Livingston continued soberly. “Other explorers have been betrayed time and time again, by that same yearning to keep on despite the odds.”
“You’re saying we must return to Cuya?” War prompted.
“I think it’s a decision we must make together. Frankly, I owe your parents a duty. I’m responsible for your welfare, and I have no right to take you headlong into danger.”
“We didn’t come on this trip with our eyes closed,” Ken reminded him.
“True, but you had no idea what you were up against. For that matter, neither did I. I knew this trip would be rugged, but I didn’t think we’d run into hostile Indians.”
“How long will our supplies last?” Jack inquired. “It seems to me that’s the basis for our decision.”
“I’ve made a careful check,” Mr. Livingston replied. “We have enough to get back to Cuya with probably a three or four day leeway.”