“Dust? Where are the roads for it to blow off?” said Rob incredulously.
“Roads? No roads, but off the thousands of miles of dry plains.”
Just then a hail came from the schooner, the captain looking over, and in extremely bad English suggesting that the party should come on board; but directly after he lapsed into Italian, addressed to his son.
“Father says we shall have two or three days’ rain and bad weather, and that you will be more comfortable on board till the storm has gone by.”
“Yes,” said Mr Brazier, “no doubt, but I don’t like leaving the boat.”
“She’ll be all right, sir,” said Shaddy. “I’ll stop aboard with one of the Indians. Bit o’ rain won’t hurt us.”
Mr Brazier hesitated.
“Better go, sir.”
“To refuse would be showing want of confidence in him,” said Brazier to Rob, and then aloud,—
“Very well. Take care of the guns, and see that nothing gets wet.”