“The cold woke me up this morning while it was still dark,” replied Bates, speaking quickly and eagerly, “so I got up and put some more logs on the fire. Just as I was going to lie down again I thought I heard a mule bray, somewhere a long way off. Ulysses heard it, too, for he pricked up his ears, went over to that side of the fire, and began sniffing the breeze which blew from that direction. The sound came again. Ulysses appeared to be much interested—though why, I could not guess. He began to whine, and running a short distance towards the point from which the sound came, he looked back at me as if to invite me to go with him. As soon as I took a step forward he turned and trotted on, looking back over his shoulder now and then to see that I was following, and in that manner on we went, Ulysses leading, and I, wondering where he was going, hurrying after him. It never occurred to me that he might have recognised the mule’s voice, but I believe he must have done so.”
“He must,” replied Jack. “And it must have been Calliope who brayed; she is the only mule I know of whose voice will carry two miles. Go on.”
“Ulysses kept going on and I kept following, up hill and down, until we came to a point overlooking a little valley, and there in the middle of it were all the horses and mules, one picketed and the rest loose. There was a shed of brush down by the stream, and the remains of a fire smoking before it; and I have no doubt Morgan was lying asleep in the shed.”
“I’m going over there at once,” cried Jack, full of eagerness at the prospect of recovering his friend Toby. “I must have a try for the horses. Will you come back and show me the place, Bates? I don’t ask you two fellows to come—it’s dangerous.”
“Well, we’re coming, whether you ask us or not,” remarked Percy, calmly.
“All right,” assented Jack, laughing. “Come on, then. We must eat our breakfast as we go. Bring your rifles; we’ll leave everything else here.”
We set off at once, single file, Bates a hundred yards in the lead, and after a tramp of about half an hour’s duration our guide stopped and came stooping back towards us.
“He’s there all right,” said he softly, “cooking his breakfast. How are we going to get at him? He’s right out in the middle of the valley; no cover nearer than two hundred yards.”
“Let’s have a look,” said Jack.
Silently we crept forward, and lying flat upon the ground on the brow of the hill, looked down into the little valley. In the middle of it were a few scattered willows, and among them we could distinguish the figure of a man stooping over a fire. Near him were the horses and mules quietly feeding; one of them, which we recognised as Toby, being picketed.