“Yes,” said Griggs coolly; “it’s a big band of mounted Indians. Come down, quick.”
The news they had to carry was too important to admit of delay, and the little party hurried down to camp, where fortunately as soon as the doctor had brought the glass to bear he was able to announce that the Indians were not visible from the sheltered nook that had been chosen on account of the trees and rocks around.
“It’s fortunate for us that they have no telescope in their civilisation,” said Bourne.
“Ah, but they have far sharper eyes than we have, sir,” said Griggs. “What do you mean to do, doctor?”
“Send you up above again with the glass while we get the animals together ready for a start if it should prove necessary. The enemy are miles away yet.”
“Yes, sir, and it’s hardly likely that they will come up here unless they see us or hit upon our trail. What do you say to the boys taking the glass up higher? You’ll want me.”
“Very well,” replied the doctor. “Go up, boys, and while one keeps his eyes upon their movements, the other can act as messenger and come and tell us whether the situation gets better or worse.”
The two lads started at once, eager to undertake the task like men, but in five minutes they were back like boys.
“What is it?” said the doctor eagerly. “Are the Indians coming on?”
“No, father,” said Chris, hesitating, for he stopped short, and Bourne looked anxiously at his son.