Gunson laughed, leaned forward, and patted me on the shoulder.
“No, no, Mayne, my lad,” he said kindly. “There’s all the pluck—the English spirit in you; but there was more than you could have done by yourselves. You would have struggled on, but Master Dean here would have broken down long enough ago, and wanted to go back home to his mother.”
“How could I have wanted to go back home to mother when she ain’t at home?” cried Esau, angrily.
“Well, to have gone back,” said Gunson. “There, I am in real earnest, my lads. It was more than you could have done.”
“But we should have persevered,” I said, warmly.
“And failed, as better men have done. Besides, there were the Indians, my lad. They always seemed very peaceable towards us, but you had a well-armed man with you; and it may have made some difference. There, I don’t want to rob you of any credit you deserve, and I tell Mr Raydon here before you that I have derived no little assistance from you both, and enjoyed my journey all the better for your company. What do you say, Mr Raydon—would they have found their way up here alone?”
“In time, perhaps,” he replied; “if they had met with other people making the trip they might have got here. Certainly not alone, and it would have been madness to have attempted it. It has been a mad project altogether.”
Gunson looked at me and smiled.
“But there, you have reached your goal safe and sound, and to-morrow morning we’ll shake hands and say good-bye.”
“Please understand, Mr Gunson,” said our host, quietly, “that you have no occasion to hurry.”