"But if we don't find turkeys, what then?" asked Chris.

"I dunno. We're going into the wildest parts we can find, places that haven't been hunted over. We might come upon buffalo or a deer now and then. All depends upon our getting into quite lonely spots. But there you are," continued the speaker, pointing with his piece, and then administering another punch to the mule, who was beginning to smile previous to making a bite.

"What are you pointing at?" asked Ned.

"Can't you see those birds skimming along just over the brush, my lads?"

"No," said Ned.

"Yes," cried Chris. "I see them--partridges."

"Something of that kind. Prairie hens, or c.o.c.ks. They're good to eat sometimes."

"Of course; we've often had them."

"Here, I must cut a good thick cudgel first chance on purpose for this lovely playful insect here. We ought to christen him Mosquito. He's always trying for a bite out of something--hungry beggar. I say, dessay he wouldn't mind trying a bit of Indian."

"Give him another punch with your rifle."

"No!" cried Griggs emphatically. "Never again. I did that idiotic thing twice over before I thought what a fool I was towards myself, and teaching you two lads at the same time."

"How? What do you mean?"

"Doing what is sure to mean an accident some day. Can't you see, one holds by the barrel and reaches down the b.u.t.t?"

"Of course."

"Well, some day that means jarring the rifle off and sending its charge into you who hold the barrel. Never try such a thing, whatever you do.

It's the work of an idiot, my lads. A man that does such a thing oughtn't to be trusted with a gun."

"Then we ought to take Mr Nathaniel Griggs' rifle away from him, Ned,"

said Chris, with mock seriousness.

"Ah, you may laugh, my lads, but I deserve it," said the American seriously. "It gave me a cold shudder just now when I thought of what a mad thing I had done. There's more fooling about with guns than people think. Every now and then a donkey comes into a room, sees a gun, picks it up, and presents it, saying to some one, 'I'll shoot you,' and pulls the trigger, bringing some poor fellow down. If ever you see any one aim at a person with a gun, knock him over, and save accident. A poor boy or girl is shot, and then the idiot says, 'Oh, I didn't know it was loaded!' It oughtn't to have been, but at such times guns generally are. I don't know how many accidents of that kind I've heard of. We're always going to be carrying our pieces on this journey, and never ought to have one out of our hands, so we should be the more careful. I don't want to be buried out here in the desert, nor yet go home again without a head. What would be the use of the gold to me then?" he added, with a dry chuckle.

"Ah, what indeed?" said Chris seriously. "But don't talk about it. I say, when you were keeping watch in the night, did you hear or see anything?"

"Didn't see much, but I seemed to hear a good deal that was a bit strange."

"What?" asked Chris eagerly.

"Oh, I don't know; creepy sounds in the black darkness under the trees, and splashings in the big pool, just as if it was full of six-foot alligators waiting for something or some one to eat."

"I heard that," said Chris; "but it was only fish."

"Like enough, my lad. I never heard of any 'gators in these parts.

Hallo! That was something.--Nearly had me off."

"A snake!" cried Chris, for Griggs' mustang had suddenly plunged, bounding sidewise with a jerk to its rider which nearly sent him out of his saddle.

"Rattler, I expect; nearly trod on him. Isn't bitten, or he wouldn't go on so quietly," added the American, turning in his saddle to look back at the trampled track they had made through the brush, but nothing was to be seen.

"Oughtn't we to ride back and warn the others?" said Chris.

"No need, my lad; that gentleman, if he was a rattler, has gone to earth fast enough, and won't show himself till we're gone. Yes, I don't think my nag was touched. I shouldn't like that. Deal rather Master Skeeter here got it. A bite would make him smile and look more handsome than he does now."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

NED SEES SOMETHING.

"No luck yet, Griggs," said the doctor, riding up to the head of the little caravan one morning, after many, many days of travel since the party made its first plunge into the unknown, untraversed wilds, to keep trudging on at the rate dictated by the mules, which, laden as they were, could not be hurried. Sometimes when the track they made for themselves was easy and level a good many miles were got over; at others the hindrances seemed to multiply, and Griggs laughingly said it never rained but it poured, and then the tale of miles traversed became very few at the end of the day.

But the American worked harder than any one, and always with unfailing good-humour. There were times when he seemed to be furious, raging out in language especially his own, the vocabulary being wonderful, the names he called astounding in their fluency, novelty, and peculiarity; still the objects of these displays of temper were never his fellow-travellers, but the mules, and as soon as he had roared himself hoa.r.s.e he stood wiping his perspiring face, smiling contentedly, to say to one, the other, or both of the boys, "I feel a deal better for having got rid of all that nasty stuff. It kinder eases my mind, youngsters, and now look at 'em," he continued, pointing at his obstinate charges; "see how nicely they go. Don't you ever tell me that mules have no brains. Look at Skeeter, how he's listening to my voice, and you wait a moment and you'll see him begin working those ears of his about. There, do you see? That's his way of telegraphing his opinions about what he has heard to all the rest. There's a deal more in mules than people think."

Be this right or wrong, the baggage-carrying animals did their best when Griggs was near them, and a few absurd words from his powerful lungs stopped kicking, biting, and squealing when a revolution seemed to be on the way, and a fight of heels had begun, to the imminent risk of disaster to the packs.

"No luck yet, sir?" cried Griggs, when the doctor had spoken on that particular morning. "Why, I was just thinking how lucky we had been."

"How?" said the doctor, and the boys p.r.i.c.ked up their ears to listen to the conversation.

"Haven't lost a mule; always got over some of the ground to bring us nearer to the place we're looking for; and the way in which we are enjoying ourselves in this compound frolic of a picnic is wonderful."

"Enjoying, eh? Well, I'm glad you take it so."

"Oh, I think we're been wonderfully lucky, seeing what might have happened."

"Do you hear, boys?" said the doctor. "That's the spirit to take our journey in. But look here, Griggs, we've been trenching too much on our stores, and that's bad."

"The mules don't think so, sir," said the American, laughing; "but as we can't buy fresh, going on in this way, perhaps we had better be on the lookout a little more for the pot, and leave the stores as much alone as we can."

"Yes," said the doctor. "I say, don't let anything eatable go by. By the way, you're deviating a little from the course we laid down this morning."

"Just a little, sir," replied Griggs. "It was Skeeter's doing."

"Oh, I did not know that the mule took the lead."

"He doesn't always, sir, but sometimes he stops short, lifts up that muzzle of his, lays his ears flat down, and sings one of those pleasant little airs of his; and when he does that I've noticed more than once that it means he smells water somewhere. So this time when he snapped at a fly trying to lay eggs in his skin, and bore off a little to the left, I didn't interfere."

"But the lookout forward does not seem promising," said the doctor, raising his double gla.s.s to his eyes and sweeping the horizon.

"No, sir, it looks like warm stuff out of the kegs to-night, and none to spare for a wash."

"I'm afraid so," said the doctor, closing his gla.s.s and drawing rein so as to let Wilton and Bourne close up. "Tired, Chris--Ned?"

"Oh no," they replied.

"It's soon in the day yet, father," added Chris.