"Very well, then, you can take it up to midnight, and I will look after the balance."
So it was decided. It had now grown dark and we thought it best to look around together. As we came out of our rock shelter we saw our ponies standing with their backs to the storm and heads bent down, looking much dejected.
"They look like four-legged ghosts," I said.
"If it hadn't been for them we would have been ghosts by this time," remarked Jim pleasantly.
"What's the use of talking that way?" I said. "Perhaps we will be ghosts before we are through with this business."
"Don't you believe it," said Jim cheerily. "I don't know how we are going to get out of this scrape, but perhaps we will have some unusual luck."
"Here's wishing it," I replied.
It looked kind of cheery as we looked back and saw the warm glow from our fire in the rock room that was our temporary camp.
We made the rounds of our fort, but could see or hear nothing in the darkness below. No sound but the steady fall of the rain. The rock must have been seventy-five feet or more of sheer descent on all sides except by the narrow trail by which we had come up.
"It's time for you to go on guard now," said Jim.