“Let us hear, Lee,” said Wilton.
“To be sure,” cried Griggs.
“I say that,” said the doctor, “because, as I seemed to gather, the adventurers had not been above a month upon their expedition before misfortunes began to assail them, and he talked for long enough about getting amongst Indians who seemed to be always on the watch to hinder their advance.”
“Yes,” said Mr Bourne thoughtfully, “I have read that the Indian tribes have had handed down to them by tradition the existence of great sacred treasures which they are bound to protect, and which would have been discovered long enough ago but for their watchfulness.”
“Never mind the Injuns,” said Griggs. “You’re sure to meet them if you go south, and, treasure or no treasure, they are always on the kill and rob system.”
“I wish they wouldn’t talk so much, but let father go on,” whispered Chris.
“They had fights desperate and many with these people,” continued the doctor, “but they pushed on, to find as they plunged further into the desert that there were worse enemies to encounter.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense,” cried Griggs; “he must have been off his head a bit there. It’s the regular old cock-and-bull story about dragons guarding the treasure. I know those sort of things—magic and gammon.”
“No,” said the doctor, smiling; “the enemies he meant were drought, heat, and fever, all of which helped to slay his brother adventurers. Some perished at the hands of the Indians, but more from exhaustion and disease, so that at last, after going through the most terrible privations, he found himself the sole survivor.”
“That’s bad,” said Griggs, “and bad at that. But, I say, how long did this take?”