“Ay, that is the question,” observed Bertram gravely.
“Wall now, that bein’ the kee-westion,” said Waller, “whose a-goin’ to answer it? There’s a chance now, lads; but don’t all speak at once.”
“Right; that’s wot it is,” observed Bounce, nodding; “that’s the feelosophy on it. When a feller’s turned upside down, wot’s he a-goin’ to do nixt? You can’t put no other construction on it in this here wurld.”
Redhand, who had been ruminating abstractedly for some minutes, now looked round on his comrades and said—
“Here’s a plan for you, lads. That outrageous villain the Big Snake lives, for the most part, in a pretty little spot just three days’ march from this place. He stole, as ye all know, the horses belongin’ to Mr Bertram’s party. Well, I propose that we shud go an’ call on him, an’ make him stand an’ re-deliver. What say you?”
“Agreed,” cried Waller, tossing his cap into the air. “Hurrah!” shouted March Marston. In one way or another, each gave his consent to the plan of making a descent upon the robbers and causing them to make restitution.
The plans of backwoodsmen, once formed, are always quickly put in execution. They had no arrangements to make, no portmanteaus to pack, no difficulties in the way to overcome. Each man strapped a portion of the remaining property on his broad shoulders, and, pushing into the forest with vigorous strides, they were soon far from the spot where their late disaster had occurred, and gradually drew near to the wild glens and gorges of the Rocky Mountains.