Will could not help feeling amused at the old fellow's emphatic declaration, more especially because the man was not a teetotaller, but drank his glass of ale at dinner like the rest, and was never known to exceed. He guessed that there was some story in the background, and hoped that some day Ruggles would tell it; but the man was reserved about his own affairs, though as sociable and cheerful a man as any on the staff.
It was near midday when they reached the section Will was to level, and as the sun was high they decided to eat their lunch in the shade of the trees and begin work later. Ruggles produced bread and cheese and a bottle of beer, and when this had been disposed of, filled an enormous pipe and lay on his back contentedly puffing away, throwing out a remark occasionally. At last Will sprang up, saying they must set to work. For several hours they walked over the ground, making calculations which Will entered in his notebook, and taking photographs for after use. Will often found that such photographs when developed disclosed features of the country that had escaped notice. The ground he was now working over was very rough, and even in the few weeks that had elapsed since his predecessor visited the spot the track which had been partially cleared had become overgrown with tropical weeds. Ruggles found plenty of work for his knife and the axe he carried in his belt.
Will proved in course of time that the previous calculations had been very accurately made. In some cases he found lateral deviations of six or seven feet on a ten-degree slope; these he corrected. In one case he saw reason to suggest a slackening of grade on a curve in a long gradient; and he noted an alternative means of crossing a small stream, for the consideration of the Chief. It was tiring work, done in the heat of the sun, and both were glad when it was finished. They returned to the spot where they had left their ponies tethered to two of the surveyor's stakes, and were on the point of mounting when Ruggles drew Will's attention to a number of horsemen crossing an open space between two belts of woodland about two miles away. Will looked at them through his field-glass.
"They're coming this way, in single file. Wonder who they are," he said. "Have a look, Ruggles."
"About thirty of 'em, as near as I can count," said the man, after a long look. "I can't make anything of 'em."
"Are they muleteers?"
"No."
"Perhaps they are soldiers."
"Don't look like it. I can't see any uniform, nor rifles either. We'd better make tracks."
"What's the hurry? I've seen nothing to be afraid of in the natives; they're a pretty poor lot so far as I have come across them."