“Oh yes; I went as soon as I heard.”
“What do you think of him?”
“Regular cripple,” said Griggs, in his uncompromising way.
“But you think he’ll get better?”
“Well, I hope so, but horses are ticklish things, and you never know what comes of a sprain or strain. I hope he’ll come round, but I have my doubts about his being quite sound again.”
As soon as it was dark the ponies and mules were quietly driven higher up the valley, so as to try and guard against any attempt to carry them off in the night. Then watch was set, and before those not on duty sought their resting-places a little debate was held as to the next steps to be taken. But not much was said. Reference was however made to Chris’s mount and the possibility of his being fit to ride again at the end of a few days.
“But, you see, everything depends on the Indians,” said the doctor. “We can’t leave here to have them hanging on our heels, ready to catch us at a disadvantage. I almost wish they’d attack us to-morrow or next day, to get severely punished and so discouraged that they’d be off and leave us alone.”
“Don’t you think they’d come back to revenge themselves?” said Chris. “They must feel very spiteful even now, father.”
“Yes, but an Indian is very fond of his life, my boy, and only likes to attack when he feels pretty sure of securing plunder. Now he is not likely to get much here, for any attempt made upon our cattle is bound to result in failure.”
“But suppose they attacked in the night?” said Chris.