“That’s plain enough,” said the member of the party addressed; “they nearly all have long spears.”
“That means bows and arrows as well, I should say,” cried Griggs. “Indians who carry spears have not learned to use rifles, as a rule. Hah! There they go, riding straight back from the edge. I shouldn’t wonder if they have a long distance to go, right back over a plain, before they can get round the mountains. They must come by the same gulch as we did, and perhaps they’ve got to find it first.”
“Think so?” said Bourne, putting the question that was on Chris’s lips. “They may be thoroughly acquainted with all this place.”
“It’s just as likely that they’ve never looked down into it before,” said Griggs. “They belong to a roving band, and the country here is very big.”
“Ah, there goes the last of them,” cried Wilton, closing and shutting up the glasses.
“Give them a few minutes’ law,” cried the doctor, “just to make sure that they have gone. Then down to the camp as quickly as possible, load up, and bring everything up to the foot of the slope, unload, and I’ll drive the poor brutes up to the other end while you folks get the stores under cover.”
“But suppose the enemy come while you are away doing the driving?” cried Chris excitedly.
“We’ll suppose nothing of the sort, my boy,” said the doctor sternly. Then with a pleasant smile, “If they do come while I’m away you’ll all have to cover me with your rifles while I fight my way back. Now then, time’s up. Down with you, and away.”
As soon as they could get clear of the ruins there was a rush made for the camp, the grazing animals being driven before them to where the stores were heaped, and going quietly enough, associating the sacks and barrels with feeding-time, though fated to be neglected!
The stores once reached, hot and nervous work began, in which Chris had no share, his duty being to mount his mustang and act the part of scout.