For answer, Bart leaped up to where the Doctor had clambered as easily as a mountain sheep, and after a little farther effort they reached the gate-like place, to find that it gave them a view right out on to the partly-wooded country beyond. For they had left the level, changeless plain on the other side of the rocks, and the sight of a fresh character of country was sufficient to make the Doctor eagerly take the little telescope he carried in a sling, and begin to sweep the horizon.
As he did so, he let fall words about the beauty of the country.
“Splendid grazing land,” he said, “well-watered. We must have a stay here.” Then lowering his glass, so as to take the landscape closer in, he uttered an ejaculation of astonishment.
“Why, Bart,” he said, “I’m afraid here are the Indians Joses saw that night.”
“Let me look, sir,” cried Bart, stretching out his hand for
the glass, but only to exclaim, “I can see them plainly enough without. Why, they cannot be much more than a mile away.”
“And they seem to be journeying in our direction,” replied the Doctor. “Let’s get back quickly, and try if we cannot find another hiding-place for the waggon.”
Hurrying back, Bart started the idea that these might be the main body of their friendly Indians.
“So much the better for us, Master Bart, but I’m afraid that we shall not be so lucky again.”