“You suppose not!” cried Cyril, laughing, and looking as if his bitter fit had quite passed away.
“Why, you’re going where you’ll hardly see a soul, unless you meet a party coming down from the mines, or bringing bales of bark. There, I’m not going to look grumpy any more, but I did feel savage for a bit.”
“That’s right. Let’s make the best of it while we’re together, and do some more fishing, or have a mule ride or two.”
“No,” said Cyril decisively, “that’s all over now. Father told me this morning that I should have to work and help you make all your preparations, for there would be no end to do. Come along. They’re going up to see your father now.”
The two Indians were both moving off, and the boys followed to the house, where they were witnesses to the meeting, Captain Norton having followed shortly, and acting as interpreter between the parties.
“It is rather awkward,” he said, “but I daresay you will soon pick up enough of their jargon to make them understand.”
“Oh yes,” said the colonel. “I could gather the man’s meaning from the Spanish words he used.”
“Then you will soon manage. Of course, if you had been a Spaniard, it would have been easy enough.”
“I shall not worry about that part of the business,” said the colonel, “so long as the man is willing, and will do his best. But we shall want two others to attend to the mules.”
“He understands that. He is going to bring another trustworthy fellow. He proposed doing so himself.”