"Ha, ha!" laughed Wilton.

"What are you laughing at?" cried Chris fiercely.

"You--your words came in with such a droll ring in them. But there, we ought not to be talking now, but getting up into our hiding-places--eh, doctor?"

"Yes," was the sharp reply, "at once. You, Wilton, Bourne, and Ned.

You, Chris, with me. Have you got the crowbar, my boy?"

"Yes, father."

"You others have the tent-pitchers, and I the short pole. Take your places at once; lie right down among the bushes till you hear my whistle, and then up and send the big stones down with all your might."

No more was said, for not one present had the heart to speak. To Chris it was just as if he had said "Good-bye" to the American, who had gone straight to his death.

"And he has gone thinking me queer and ungrateful," the boy said to himself, "for not insisting upon going with him."

And even while stumbling up and up among the stones and bushes in the darkness to the spot which he was to occupy with his father, the boy could think of nothing else but the brave fellow going slowly along the lower part of the gulch in the black darkness, to wait until the morning came before starting boldly off into the open to meet the Indians.

"It will mean arrows," thought Chris. "He'll be shot down somewhere out yonder, for it's a mad trick, and can't do him any good, nor yet us.

Oh, I do wish I wasn't such an idiot! So proud I was in my miserable conceit of having thought out a way to trap the Indians, and a nice mess I've made--sent the best friend I ever had to certain death."

"What are you thinking about, Chris?" said the doctor at that moment.

"Thinking about, father?" faltered the boy.

"Yes; you have turned so quiet."

"I was thinking about poor Griggs, father, and feeling afraid that he'll never come back."

"Then don't think any more of such things. We none of us know. Wait and see. Now then, how long shall we have to wait before we see our brave fellow come along hunted by the enemy?"

"Don't ask me, father."

"Why not? How far are we off the morning?"

"Hours."

"No; I think not. I dare say we shall be having the day break within one hour, then the exciting time will begin."

"Do you think we shall see Griggs again?"

"Oh yes, of course. He's a fleet runner, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised to see him come tearing along with a band of mounted Indians at his back."

"Do you really think so, father, or is this only to encourage me?"

"Both, my boy. Come, keep a good heart. I shall be glad when the day comes--shan't you?"

"Yes, father. But do you think the ponies and mules will stray away?"

"I hope not, my boy. Oh no, it's not likely. Cheer up; we shall do it, never fear."

Chris heaved a big sigh.

"Why, hullo, my boy! Do you call this cheering up?" said the doctor.

"Yes, father. That was only the melancholy being driven off," said Chris with a forced laugh. "I'm going to be cheerful enough, and shoot straight when the Indians come. I'm sorry for them, but I must, for everybody's sake."

"Yes, to be sure, for everybody's sake. Feel better?"

"Yes, father."

"That's right. I was low-spirited, too, a little while ago, for I felt doubtful of success. I don't now. Yours was a splendid idea, and unless something unfortunate occurs we shall succeed."

"I hope we shall," thought Chris, but he felt doleful in the extreme, and the idea would force itself upon him that he had sent his old friend to a cruel death.

At last the various objects around seemed to grow plain as the grey dawn began to lighten the sky; but the place looked terrible in the ghastly light. There beneath them was what looked like a black chasm, the one they were to fill up with stones from the jagged shelves upon which they crouched nearly a hundred feet higher, while higher still, right up for another three hundred feet or more, to where the saw-like edge was marked clearly against the ever-lightening sky, wherever the boy's eyes rested there were ma.s.ses of stone which looked as if a touch would set them in motion and start others to come thundering down, sweeping all before them into a vast heap which would fill up the chasm, even as high as the rocks amongst which his party was hidden.

The time had come for hiding, and Chris and his father were soon lying down behind some stunted bushes through which they could peer right along the bottom of the gulch far away towards where the side gully ran up in the direction of the tableland in which the great valley with its rock city was cut.

Thoughts began to come fast now through Chris's brain, and the first were in connection with the mules and ponies they had left to graze up to the right of the gully. Would they stay there peacefully browsing on the green shoots of the shrubs that were abundant, or come wandering down to reach their old pasture? The question was open to many doubtful answers which did not come, and they had to give way to thoughts connected with Griggs, who, the boy felt, must by this time be astir with his gun.

And with what result?

None for a long, long time, during which the sun as it rose had chased away the horrors that had lingered in the gulch, to display all its wondrous glories of light and shade with trickling falls and clumps of dripping lace-like fern.

Everything was so beautiful in the sunshine that Chris found himself wondering how it could have been so dismal in the gloom.

He turned to look across to where his friends were hidden, but they were concealed too well; nothing was visible but the great blocks of stone waiting to be levered to the edge of the shelf and sent thundering down; so turning his eyes from there, the lad gazed along the gulch again in the direction of the side gully and the open land beyond, where in all probability Griggs was now wandering in his fict.i.tious search for game.

Two hours of patient waiting since sunrise, which had given place to painful excitement. Doubt was busy, too, in every brain, for it began to seem as if something had gone wrong, and the intense desire was attacking Chris to get down from his hiding-place and go in search of his friend.

But the orders were to lie still in hiding until the doctor gave the signal with his whistle, and knowing full well that the slightest suggestion of an ambush meant ruin to the plan, Chris forced himself to lie motionless, gazing with aching eyeb.a.l.l.s along the gulch for the sight of the figure that as the time went on seemed as if it would never appear.

Another hour, the most hopeless of all, the most wearisome and full of pain, for with the sun getting higher the rays were reflected from the rock-face till the place grew unbearably hot, with the consequence that thirst began to parch the watcher's throat. He was growing faint, too, for want of food, and though he had an ample supply in his wallet he did not dare to begin eating for fear that something might happen, some sudden call be made upon his energies.

"If I could only get up and move about," thought Chris.

But he glanced round, and no one else was stirring, while his father crouched there so severe and stern of aspect that for the moment Chris forgot his own troubles and thought of those of others.

"Father's feeling it all horribly," thought the boy. "But poor old Griggs! We ought never to have let him go."

What was that?

Chris strained his ears and gazed upward wildly, for high in front, nearly four hundred feet above the bottom of the gully, there was the sound of galloping horses.

The boy shook himself and stared, asking himself if he were mad or dreaming. For the rocks up there were more than perpendicular, they leaned right over, and it was absurd to think that horses were galloping there.

They could not be. They were not, for they were on the other side of the gulch now, higher still.