With Lieutenant Frémont very ill and scarcely able to stagger, they returned to the camp on the rock above the lake, and waited here.
Lieutenant Frémont, pale and giddy, lay with his arm over his eyes, to shut out the light; the others sat about—Clément Lambert and Joseph Descoteaux languid, their heads drooping. Silence reigned—and sharper and colder stood forth the line of pinnacles, as more swiftly sank the sun. Presently Lieutenant Frémont stirred, sat up, and spoke.
“I think that we’ve done about all that we can, in this direction,” he said. “What do you think, Kit?”
“Wall,” drawled Kit Carson, quietly, “we can climb it if we keep trying along enough. I’ve been in wuss places before.”
“The survey itself is finished—as much as the War Department would require, and I doubt if this extra risk to all concerned in the party is authorized,” continued Lieutenant Frémont. “I think that first thing in the morning you’d better take the most of the men and go on down to the Mule Camp; and after we make a few more observations the rest of us will follow. Basil probably won’t bring up enough stuff to last the whole party of us long.”
“Thar he comes,” announced William New.
Sure enough! The clatter and scraping of hoofs among rocks could be heard, plainly, from below. And presently a small cavalcade struggling over log and boulder appeared, rounding the end of the lake. A cheer welled—“crack! crack!” rifle and pistol exchanged salutes—and soon the rescue squad panted into the camp at the flat granite rock.
They were Basil and four new men in place of the four whom Basil had worn out on the trip down; and their saddle animals and several led mules, bearing blankets and provisions. Hurrah! Now with the hot coffee and the dried meat served hot or cold it seemed that the fires, as if fed also, burned brighter, that the rock was softer, that the breeze was gentler, and that even the grim row of pinnacles, o’er-watching, vented a smile or two. Rolled in the army blankets everybody slept.
For his part, so soundly slept Oliver that when he opened his eyes it was to sunshine and breakfast preparations. Rather scandalized at his laziness (which was not laziness at all) he struggled to throw off his blanket and to sit up.
Mr. Preuss and Auguste Janisse (who was one of the Frémont Frenchmen) were busy attending to fire and coffee; otherwise the camp seemed deserted.