"Nice chance we'll have to shoot anything," growled Ned in disgust. "Stop that wailing."
"It hurts, it hurts——"
"Keep still. I'll find out what the trouble is," warned Tad, dropping down and examining his companion's injured foot.
"Ouch!" exploded Chunky, jerking his foot away.
"If you want me to help you, you'll have to be quiet."
Butler pressed gently on the bottom of the injured foot with the fingers of one hand, the other holding Chunky's ankle in a firm grip.
"Humph!" grunted Tad. "He's stepped on a cactus bush with his bare foot. It's full of prickers. Hold still and I'll pick them out."
"Guess there's no use to keep still any longer. Those animals probably have run away before this," complained Ned.
"K-i-i-o-o-o-o-! K-i-i-o-o-o-o! K-i-i-o-o-o-k-i!"
"S-h-h-h!" warned Tad. "They're there yet. Shall I take your rifle, Chunky? You probably don't feel much like tramping up the hill in your bare feet."