This declaration seemed to surprise Mack. He stood motionless for a moment, and then moved around to take a look at the horse, which was following the one on which Archie was mounted. He saw the animal, but it seemed as if he could not be satisfied until he had put his hand on him. This familiarity, however, the horse would not permit. He bounded out of the driver’s reach, and turned his heels toward him as if he had a good notion to kick him.
“There wasn’t any rope on—I mean—”
“Rope!” exclaimed Perk, when Mack hesitated. “Now I’ll tell you what’s a fact, of course there wasn’t. Who should put a rope on him?”
“I mean it’s wonderful that you’ve got him back safe and sound,” said the driver, quickly. “I was afraid some wild beast had found him before this time.”
The boys thought the Scotchman acted very strangely, but they were so glad to recover the horse that they did not stop to think about that. Archie’s first care was to fasten the animal to the wagon beside Uncle Dick’s horse, and when he had done that he went into the tent where the rest of the party were arranging their beds preparatory to retiring, and trying to decide what it was that had kept the horse out so long after his companion had come into camp. The conclusion at which they arrived was that he had become separated from the other horse and got bewildered in the woods. This was the opinion advanced by the driver, and the rest all thought he was right—all except Uncle Dick. The latter said nothing, but he thought there was something suspicious about the whole proceeding, and that it would be a good plan to set a watch over the driver. He could not speak about it then, for Mack was present; but he resolved that he would do it the first thing in the morning.
It was now dark and time to post the guards, so Frank called the first relief, which, singularly enough, consisted of Walter and Bob, the very ones who were on duty the night two of Potter’s men made a raid on their camp in the Rocky Mountains. The latter Frank posted at the upper end of the camp in plain view of the barricade, behind which the four Kaffirs were lying, and the other he stationed near the wagon, to keep an eye on the horses.
“I hope you will not get into as much trouble as you did the first time I put you on guard,” said Frank.
“I think there is little danger of it,” laughed Walter. “There are no outlaws in this country, and besides I have learned wisdom since then. I’d like to see a man approach me to-night and deceive me as completely as those two fellows did. It couldn’t be done.”
“I don’t suppose that any one will try it. As long as the Kaffirs know that we are watching them and the horses, they will probably behave themselves. We’d be in a nice fix if all our help should desert us, wouldn’t we? Good-night. Keep up the fire, and call Archie at ten o’clock.”
Frank went back to the tent, wrapped himself up in his blanket, and went to sleep, lulled by the yelping of a pack of jackals, which made it a point to serenade the camp as regularly as the prairie-wolves did when the travellers were journeying on the plains. In half an hour more every person in the camp seemed to be sound asleep except the two sentries. These paced their beats alert and watchful, one thinking of home and friends, and the other recalling the thrilling incidents that had happened once upon a time while he was guarding camp away off in the wilds of his own country. He went through the adventures of that night again in imagination, and just as he got to that particular part of them where he first discovered the outlaws approaching the camp, he heard a footfall near him, and turning quickly about saw the driver step over the wagon-tongue.