Chapter Thirteen.
In a Strange Nest.
Chris’s mirth had passed away as quickly as it came, and he sat erect in his saddle.
“Going back to look for the kegs, Griggs?” he said faintly.
“Yes, of course, unless you like the job,” was the gruff reply.
“I’ll go with you,” said Chris briskly.
“Then you’ll have to nip your pony’s ribs pretty tightly,” cried Griggs, “for the moment he sees a snake he’ll spin round and bolt.”
“I’ll mind,” said Chris, setting his teeth.
“Come on, then.”
The pair rode off back along the track littered with their impedimenta, while the doctor and the others began to try and reduce the loads of the mules in difficulty to something like order.