“Shall we start now, or try to get some rest, and then start at night?”
“Let’s start now, sir,” said Cyril firmly. “The darkness makes cowards of us—I mean, makes one of me, for I’m always fancying dangers all around.”
“Are you ready, Perry?”
“Yes, father. Let’s go at once.”
“We will,” said the colonel, “for I’m afraid that we should make very poor progress after dark. In with you then, and let’s load up the mules; they must take a mouthful of grass wherever there is any as we go.”
The very thought of getting on chased away a great deal of the weariness, and the little party were soon hard at work in the semi-darkness, just inside the cave, fastening on the packs. Then all mounted the riding mules, and without a moment’s hesitation rode out, the colonel with the leading mule turning up the gorge, which ran pretty nearly due west and rising higher at every step, while John Manning and the two lads formed the rearguard.
“Ten times better than being shut up there in the dark, my lads,” said the old soldier, sitting up erect in his saddle, with the butt of his piece resting upon his thigh. “It’s like being in the cavalry.—See any of ’em, Master Cyril, sir?”
“No, not a soul in sight. Have they gone right away?”
John Manning chuckled.
“Just far enough to keep a sharp eye on us, sir. They’re hiding somewhere behind the stones.”