He was quite right, for by bearing off a little they found at the end of about half-a-mile that their progress had grown more and more easy, the grass now only reaching to their stirrup-irons, while away further to their left it was shorter still, looking quite lawn-like in the distance.
“We’re a good deal higher than we were at the camp, aren’t we?” asked Bourne.
“Certainly, and far-off as we are we certainly seem to be approaching the mountain by a gradual slope.”
“And that chain of pools and swamps is something of a river or stream that comes down from one of the valleys yonder. Hallo! look out!”
Every one present had already been put on the qui vive by a quick rustling in front, followed by a loud whirring sound, as some half-a-dozen birds, which they had evidently been driving before them through the long grass in which they had kept out of sight, had now found themselves too much exposed in the shorter herbage and taken flight.
“Big partridges—monsters!” cried Chris excitedly.
“Yes,” said the doctor dryly; “the most monstrous partridges I ever saw, Chris. Why, they’re turkeys, boy. They’re making for those trees yonder across the pools, eh, Griggs?”
“That’s right, sir. They’d be worth stalking too, but I don’t think we could follow them through that swamp. I dare say, though, that we could get a shot at them some other day. Might perhaps as we come back.”
“We’ll be ready for them then,” said the doctor quietly. “Now then, the ground’s firm, and the grass getting shorter; let’s try a canter.”
He pressed his pony’s sides and led off, the rest following in single file now, with the ground slowly rising, the grass getting shorter and shorter, till at the end of about half-an-hour the doctor reached the bottom of a mound, drew rein, and let his mount walk to the summit, where he halted for his companions to join him and drink in the soft cool air as yet unheated by the ardent sun.