“All right. But if we go—”
“But if! Why, we are going.”
“I hope so,” cried Ned. “But I say, Griggs, what are you going to do about your shanty? Are you going to lock it up and leave the key with the nearest neighbour?”
“Tchah! Nonsense! I’m going to put together what I want in a mule-car, ready for hitching the two kickers on, and then I’m going to take a hammer and a bag of spikes, and nail up the door and window. I shall advise your gov’nors to do the same here.”
“But of course we shall take no end of things with us,” said Chris.
“You won’t, my lad. We shall load up two or three cars, but it will be with meal and tinned meat, bacon and ham. Tea, coffee, and sugar, of course. Ammunition, a few tools, a waterproof or two, and a tent. That’s all.”
“What about clothes?”
“Oh, we shall bring them on our backs. It’s going to be light marching-order, I can tell you.”
“That won’t matter,” said Ned. “I shall like it. I say, Griggs, it’ll be like one long jolly great picnic.”
“Yes, if we keep well, and the Indians let us alone.”