“Say,” said Griggs suddenly, “I forgot all about them. Where are they?”
“Feeding about somewhere, quietly,” said the doctor.
“I don’t know so much about that,” cried Griggs. “P’r’aps one of you will come with me and the lanthorn, and we’ll see. I can’t hear any of them grass-chopping. Will you come with me, Chris, or have you been too much shook up?”
“Oh, I’ll come,” said Chris quietly. “I don’t think I’ve been too much ‘shook up.’”
In a few minutes the lanthorn was seen lighting up the rocks and trees in the direction of the best pasturage, where the cattle had been left; and those left in camp watched till it disappeared, waiting anxiously till the light was in sight again, and finally came up to where the glowing embers kept on brightening and dying out again as the soft breeze blew down the gully from time to time.
“Can’t see or hear anything of the animals,” said Griggs, at last, as he strode up with the light. “Ain’t heard any more of Mr B’ar, have you?”
“No,” was the reply.
“They were scared off by the shooting, I expect, or else by getting a sniff of the b’ar’s wound.”
“Would they go far?” asked the doctor.
“Can’t say, sir, but not so far that we can’t follow them by their trail.”