Chapter Nineteen.
Dismount!—Quick!
“Isn’t it grand!” cried Chris, as he tightened the girths of his saddle during the final preparations for the start, every one being well armed, and in face of the fact that they meant to be back at the camp the same evening, burdened with nothing but a wallet containing a little food and a bottle of water.
“Isn’t what grand?” replied Ned.
“Why, riding off into a country where nobody has been before, and not knowing what wonderful discoveries we may make.”
“Oh yes, I suppose so; but I wish old Griggs had spoken out as he has now before we started.”
“What about?”
“What about? Why, our having to go on and on till all the stores are finished, and then for us to get nothing but frizzled meat to eat and water to drink. That’s a nice lookout, upon my word! Here, see if you can get my girth tightened to this hole. This brute has been eating till he’s as round as a tub.”
“So has mine. I haven’t got the girth as tight as it was last time by three holes.”
“Oh! Then you needn’t bother. I’m one hole better than you.”