“We must go back and round into the valley,” said Juan. “We shall find them all with their necks broken.”

“You’ll be clever if you do,” said Joses, in a savage growl. “They’ve gone on jumping down like that right to the bottom, Master Bart, and—”

“Is that the flock?” said Bart, pointing to where a similar wall of rock rose up from what seemed to be part of a great canyon.

“That’s them,” said Joses, counting, “eight, nine, ten, eleven, and all as fresh as if they’d never made a jump. There, I’ll believe anything of ’em after that.”

“Why, it makes one shudder to look down,” said Bart, shrinking back.

“Shudder!” said Joses, “why, I’d have starved a hundred times before I’d have made a jump like that. No mutton for dinner to-day, boys. Let’s get some birds.”

And very disconsolately and birdless, they made their way back to the camp.


Chapter Eleven.