Two of the mules had been down, and showed injuries to their knees. One had evidently met with a bad fall over a piece of rock, and limped painfully, while two of the ponies wore the aspect of having been over-ridden.
“I think they ought to have another day’s rest, Griggs,” said the doctor.
“And I think they ought to have two,” was the reply; “but what about staying here? The Indians may find and follow our trail.”
“We must not think of waiting two days,” replied the doctor, “but I think we might risk one, and we must send out a scout along the road we have come, to select a suitable spot on high ground and keep a lookout. If he sees danger on the way he must ride back and warn us. Meanwhile we’ll have everything ready for an immediate start, keeping the animals close in, and the packs, so that we can load up at once.”
Griggs nodded.
“What about the scout?” he said.
The doctor looked at him in silence.
“You mean you would like me to go?”
“Yes, but there is no reason why you should go alone. I could easily spare one of the boys.”
“That’s right—Chris,” said the American, and in pretty good time that morning these two, with their wallets well supplied and their water-bottles filled, rode off along the back track to make a reconnoissance, with the understanding that they were to rejoin their friends that night.