Thinking it too probable that Indians were not far off, I dreaded lest the shout might be heard by them, and I advised Reuben not to cry out again.
I was still fearing that we had missed the waggon, when a voice reached our ears. It was that of Mike.
“Is that you, Masther Roger? If you are yourself, come on here; but if not, I’ll throuble you to stop where you are, or I’ll be afther shooting you through the head.”
“All right, Mike!” I exclaimed, as we made our way in the direction from whence the voice came.
He had grown anxious at my long delay, and had got leave from my uncles to try and find out what had become of me.
We soon got back to the waggon; and by giving the patient oxen the remainder of our water, they having in the meantime cropped some grass, we were able to move forward. The road, in the dark, was difficult; but we managed to reach the camp without any accident, and were heartily welcomed by our friends.
Those who wished to return had, we found, summoned a meeting, and it was settled that the matter should be decided by the majority of votes. My uncles turned the scale in favour of going on. They pointed out that it would be as dangerous to retreat as to advance.
Mr Sparks urged that it would be madness to give up the enterprise. Water, he assured us, would be found at the end of every day’s march, or even oftener; and though Indians might be met, with our rifles we could without difficulty keep them at bay, as none of them were likely to possess firearms—their only weapons being bows and arrows and spears. His remarks prevailed; and it was agreed that after a day’s rest, which the cattle greatly required, we should recommence our march.
Once more we were making our toilsome way across the desert. For two days we had moved on without interruption, keeping scouts out as usual on either side to give notice should any Indians approach. Reuben and I, and other young men, performed that necessary duty for several hours each day.
Early in the morning of the second day we caught sight in the distance of a couple of horsemen with long spears in their hands. They galloped towards us, apparently to ascertain who we were; then, wheeling round, they quickly disappeared, and though we were on the watch we saw no more of them. When we halted at noon, we of course reported the circumstance. As it showed that Redskins were in the neighbourhood, several more men were told off to act as scouts, with orders to retreat towards the train the moment they might see any Indians, whether few or many.