“I have listened to several concerts since I have been in this country, and I don’t want to hear another.”
“You will probably hear another within a few hours,” returned Fred. “The next water we shall find on the route is in that valley, and there’s where we shall camp to-night.”
“Ain’t thar no trail that leads around it?” asked old Bob, nervously.
“Probably not, or some one would have found it before this time. All traders pass through there. Mack told me that about three years ago he watched the fountain, beside which we are going to camp next, all one night, and saw three different troops of lions come there to drink; but he was so badly frightened by the hubbub they made, that he dared not shoot at them. He told me that his shooting-hole is there yet and that I could use it to-night if I felt so disposed; but I declined.”
“I dare you to stay there with me to-night.”
The astonished boys looked up to see who the bold challenger was. It was Eugene Gaylord, who, finding that his companions were staring hard at him, dropped his reins, placed his hands on his hips and looked at each of them in turn. “Don’t all speak at once, because I don’t want too much company,” said he.
CHAPTER XIV.
A TROOP OF LIONS.
“There’s no danger that you will be overburdened with company if you intend to pass the night at that shooting-hole,” said Bob, with a laugh. “I know who won’t go. Here’s one.”
“Here’s another,” said George.
“Here’s one who will go,” cried Archie.