“But we’ve left them behind.”
“For a bit. They’ll hunt us out again somewhere. They’ve got all the advantage of us. I daresay there are thirty or forty of them hunting us, and what one doesn’t know of the country, another does; and as they spread out, they’ll warn every Indian they meet, so as to run us down, for they’re sure to feel now that we’re after the buried treasures, and they’ll give us credit for having found them.”
“Why?”
“Because we have escaped. Every pass will be guarded, and every valley searched, so that they are sure to come across us at last.—Look, they’re going to start. Come along.” And picking up their guns, the boys joined the colonel and John Manning, who were tightening up the ropes round two of the loads.
“Better trust the leader, Manning,” said the colonel.
“Yes, sir. He seems as good as a guide; and if you set his head straight, he’ll take us somewhere; and where he goes, the others’ll follow. Rum thing, too, sir.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the colonel; “these animals have passed their lives in the mountains.”
“Of course, sir, but I didn’t mean that. I meant it was a rum thing for them to follow their leader in this way, for they all hate him like poison, and kick at him whenever they have a chance; and as for the way he kicks at them, I wonder sometimes he doesn’t get his heels stuck in their ribs, so that he can’t get out no more. ’Tis their natur’ to, eh, Master Cyril, sir?—Ah, would yer!”
This to one of the mules, whose heels must have itched, for it was softly turning itself round as if seeking somewhere to administer a good round kick.
Then all was ready for a start; but first the colonel mounted the side among the rocks, to search the valley with his glass.