Finally, Simpson succeeded in lariating his mustang, and then mounting, soon collected the rest. Then the majority of the horsemen rode away in pursuit, leaving the rest to search in the cave for the lost girl.
The pursuers were Jack, Simpson, Carpenter, Burt and Louis Robidoux; the remainder were Mr. Wheeler, Duncan, Napoleon Robidoux and the half stupefied and almost useless Pedro.
The latter party watched the others till they were lost in the far distance. Then they turned toward the cave.
“We are in for it,” remarked Robidoux, in a low tone, to Duncan. “What if more of these mean Indians should come? We’d be the only ones fit to fight ’em. Look at the master and the Mexican—they are both entirely useless. One is half-dead about some strange affair, while the other is almost in a trance with grief.”
Duncan broke out vehemently:
“They went away and never told me whether they’d be back to breakfast. Now, blast the luck! if I cook up a lot of grub for the whole party, and they ain’t here to eat it, the things’ll all spile, and then I’ll catch thunder for being extravagant and wasteful. And if I don’t cook for the lot, they’ll be sure to come back, and then there’ll be a fuss ’cause breakfast ain’t ready.”
“Oh, never mind the breakfast; there are other things more important than that, just now.”
The cook stared at him aghast.
“Other things more im-port-ant to look after! Oh, every hair of my head! Oh, my boot-heels! Oh, if I didn’t get breakfast to-morrow, what a swearing, red hot mess there’d be—every man a-cussing me. You never was a camp cook—you don’t know what it is.”
“It’s the softest job in the train.”