"I wonder if there's another bridge handy," remarked Jack. "Where's the next bridge, Me Dain?"
"A long way down the river, sahib, but there is a village about four miles off."
"Then they've gone there to borrow a boat, I'll wager a trifle on that," cried Jack.
"Right for you, Jack," said Dent. "We'd better be on the move. But what can we do with this pony?"
The poor beast, which the alligator had mauled, had managed to get ashore and that was all. Its leg was frightfully torn.
"This pony 'll never hit the trail again," remarked Buck, after he had examined it carefully. "We shall have to carry its pack partly between us and partly on the other pony."
"Poor little brute," said Jack. "It's suffering fearfully. Look at its eyes!"
"We can do nothing for it, I'm afraid," remarked Jim.
"No," said Buck, "but if we don't hump round a bit, somebody'll do something for us."
This hint of the danger in which they still stood from the blood-thirsty and revengeful dacoits quickened their movements, and the wounded pony was stripped in a few moments. The other pony was quite unhurt, and a good share of the baggage was added to its load for the present; the remainder was swung up on the shoulders of the four members of the party.