It was a glorious ride through a lovely country, slowly and cautiously taken, till a spot was reached commanding the portion along which danger seemed sure to come if it was astir, and here, with their ponies hobbled to graze, Chris and the American watched hour after hour, enjoying the rest.
“But doesn’t it seem queer,” said Chris, as the day wore on, “just because we are bound to be so careful, and dare not fire a shot for fear of taking the enemy’s attention, we have had chance after chance of getting birds? I should have liked to take three or four brace back with us.”
“Yes,” said Griggs shortly. “Been a nice change; but it wouldn’t do.”
The sun was getting low when Griggs finished a long search of the back country with the glass he carried, and ended by closing it and thrusting it into the case.
“No Indians to-day, or we should have seen them. I think we may start back now.”
They were soon in the saddle, and, to Chris’s delight, he found that his pony’s stiffness had pretty well passed off, while, to the intense satisfaction of both, the slight lameness grew better and promised well for the next day.
They kept to a walk, pausing wherever a good view back could be obtained, till it began to grow dark, but they kept steadily on.
“Another hour ought to bring us to camp,” said Griggs suddenly.
“And they’ll be waiting supper for us,” said Chris. “I hope they have done a little shooting. A turkey would be splendid to-night. Don’t you think so?” added the boy, after waiting in vain for an answer.
“I was thinking about something else,” said the American slowly.