“But it was very horrible,” cried Bart.
“Yes, horrible,” assented the Doctor.
“But it saved all us as was left, Master,” said Joses, gruffly. “They’d have found us out else, and served us the same as they did poor old Sam and old Juan. What beasts Injun is.”
“Yes, it saved our lives, Joses, and it was as it were a miracle. But there, don’t let’s talk about it. We must take steps to bury those poor creatures, and that before my child comes out. Do you think the enemy will come back?” he continued, turning to the interpreter.
“The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth says no: not for days,” was the reply; and, willingly enough, the Indians helped their white friends to enlarge the hole ploughed out by the explosion of the powder keg, which was easily done by picking out a few pieces of rock, when there was ample room for the dead, who, after some hour or two’s toil, were buried beneath the stones.
The remains of the two poor fellows, Juan and Sam, were buried more carefully, with a few simple rites, and then, saddened and weary, the Doctor turned to seek Maude.
Bart was about to follow him, when Joses took him by the sleeve.
“I wouldn’t say anything to the master, but I must tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“About the explosion, Master Bart.”