“Let us go back,” said the Doctor; “perhaps we shall meet him higher up;” and looking faint and utterly exhausted, he followed the two Indians as they chose the most easy part of the valley for walking, the Doctor’s words proving to be right, for they came upon Joses toiling down towards the passage leading to the plain with six heavy fish hanging from a tough wand thrust through their gills.
They reached the chimney, as Bart christened it, just about the same time as Joses, who stared as he caught sight of the saturated clothes.
“What! been in after the fish?” he said with a chuckle. “I got mine, master, without being wet.”
“We’ve had a narrow escape from drowning, Joses,” said the Doctor, hoarsely.
“That’s bad, master, that’s bad,” cried Joses. “It all comes o’ my going away and leaving you and Master Bart, there; but I thought a few o’ these salmon chaps would be good eating, so I went and snared ’em out with a bit o’ wire and a pole.”
“I shall soon be better, Joses,” replied the Doctor. “The accident would have happened all the same whether you had been there or no. Let us get back to the camp.”
“Are we going to leave them beautiful fish the Beaver and old Speechworks here have caught and cooked?” asked Joses, regretfully.
“No,” said the Doctor, sinking down upon a stone, “let us rest and eat them. We shall not hurt out here in this bright sunshine, Bart, and we’ll wring some of the water out of our clothes, and have less weight to carry.”
This speech gave the greatest of satisfaction, for the party were ravenously hungry, and the halt was not long enough to do any one hurt, for the broiled salmon was rapidly eaten. Then they started, and after a rather toilsome climb, ascended once more to the level of the plain, and reaching the waggons learned that all was well, before proceeding to the Doctor’s quarters in his tent at the top of the mountain.