“Yes, those were terrible times, my man. We shall not suffer that way, and as to food, we have our guns. What about ammunition?”
“All got plenty, sir,” growled John Manning. “I’ve seen every morning that our pouches were full.”
“That’s right, then. With a little hunting, we must find some game in these valleys, scarce as it has been. Then there is the coca leaf, whose virtues we must try, failing anything better. Oh, come, we are not so very badly off.”
“Then you will try at once to make for one of the tracks through the mountains, sir?” said Cyril.
“And live by hunting, father?” cried Perry.
“And give up, after trying so long, and being so near success, my boy?” said the colonel. “Come, come: Britons would not have made their name known all over the world if they had gone on like that.”
“Look here,” cried Cyril excitedly; and then he stopped and looked doubtingly at the colonel.
“Well, I’m waiting, my lad. Every suggestion has its value at a time like this. Speak out.”
“I’m afraid you’ll think the idea too wild, sir.”
“I will say so if it is, my boy. Let’s have it.”