“Wait a moment,” said Bracy; and he got out his glass, set the butt of his rifle on a stone, and rested the glass on the muzzle, so as to get a steady look.
“I see nothing,” he said—“nothing but field after field of snow, with a few rocky ridges; and beyond them, rocks again, a long slope, and—Yes, I see now. Why, Gedge, man, there must be a couple of hundred.”
“Well, sir, we don’t want ’em,” said Gedge, on the fox and grapes principle; “and goat’s meat’s awful strong, no matter how you cook it.”
“Goats? Nonsense! Armed men, Gedge, for I could see the flashing of the sunshine off their weapons.”
“Phee-ew!” whistled Gedge. “See us, sir?”
“I hope not. But they are going in a direction which will take them right across our road just at the same time as we reach the spot.”
“That’s awk’ard, sir. But I thought we’d been getting high up here because there’d be no people to hinder us.”
“So I thought, my lad; but this is an exception. These people are crossing the mountain-passes, possibly to join the tribes besieging the fort.”
“And what about them yonder?” said Gedge, nodding to the right.
“What! You don’t mean to say that you can see more in that direction?”