"We cannot make the trucks run up hill, and, besides, there are no rails, if that's what you mean."
"No, sir, I know that," was the reply, "but I thought that if we could place a few tins of the stuff on those rocks we could easily manage to put a bullet through them at two hundred yards."
"By all means we'll try it," said Mr. McKay heartily. "As I've often said, you're a brick."
Accordingly Ellerton ran to the cave where the explosive was stored, and returned at a walking pace with nearly forty pounds of the dangerous compound.
"Don't use all of it," said Mr. McKay. "Here, take these three tins; they'll be a better mark for us."
Into each of the metal boxes Ellerton placed about ten pounds of the explosive, adding a few handfuls of iron, nails, and bits of scrap metal. Then, climbing over the breastwork, he was handed the rough-and-ready bombs.
Thus laden he cautiously made his way up the rough defile till he reached a spot about two hundred yards from the defenders' position.
Here a mass of fallen rock, the highest part ten feet in height, formed a suitable site for his operations, and without mishap the tin canisters were placed in such a position that they could readily be seen above the heads of any number of savages likely to come between them and the defences.
Meanwhile Mr. McKay was busily engaged in preparing a number of hand-bombs, charging several small tins with explosive mixed with nails, and lashing a short length of thin rope securely to each completed missile.
"I'm going to place these things here," said he, pointing to a small cleft in the cliff. "Be careful not to knock them, or we shall punish ourselves."