A long conversation followed as to those best means, and the colonel heard each one’s proposal impatiently.
Perry said it was impossible, and that they must all take as much provision as they could carry, and leave the mules behind.
John Manning said there was only one way of doing it, and that was for him to take the stock off one of the guns, and as soon as it was dusk creep round the camp, and catch every one of the sentries by surprise, and then club him, and bind his hands and feet.
“I could stun ’em, sir, and then they couldn’t give no alarm.”
“You mean, murder the poor wretches,” said the colonel quietly.
“No, no, sir; not so bad as that,” grumbled the man. “These Injuns have got heads as thick as rams. More likely to spoil the gun.”
“Now you, Cyril,” said the colonel quietly.
“I can’t propose anything, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “It seems to me that we might pass one or two of the Indians, but the others would see or hear the mules.”
“And you can propose nothing else?”
Cyril shook his head, and the colonel got up and went out of the hut, to go and walk up and down where the Indians were busy, giving first one a friendly nod, and then another, evidently to their great satisfaction.