“We must go straight back to our starting-place, and then on to Lerisco, and there I must get the proper authorisations from the government, and afterwards organise a large expedition of people, and bring them here at once.”
He had hardly made this announcement when the Beaver came slowly up to stand with his follower the interpreter behind, and looking as if he wished to say something in particular.
The Doctor rose, and pointed to a place where his visitor could sit down, but the chief declined.
“Enemy,” he said sharply. “Indian dogs.”
Then he turned round quickly to the interpreter.
“The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth says the Apachés will be back to-night to see why the earth opened and killed their friends.”
“Indeed! So soon?” said the Doctor.
“The chief says we must go from here till the Indian dogs have been. Then we can come back.”
“That settles it, Bart,” exclaimed the Doctor. “We’ll start at once.”
The preparations needed were few, and an hour later they were retreating quickly across the plain, the coming darkness being close at hand to veil their movements, so that when they halted to rest in the morning they were a long distance on their way, and sheltered by a patch of forest trees that looked like the remains of some tract of woodland that had once spread over the plain.