"Ah, but they have far sharper eyes than we have, sir," said Griggs.

"What do you mean to do, doctor?"

"Send you up above again with the gla.s.s while we get the animals together ready for a start if it should prove necessary. The enemy are miles away yet."

"Yes, sir, and it's hardly likely that they will come up here unless they see us or hit upon our trail. What do you say to the boys taking the gla.s.s up higher? You'll want me."

"Very well," replied the doctor. "Go up, boys, and while one keeps his eyes upon their movements, the other can act as messenger and come and tell us whether the situation gets better or worse."

The two lads started at once, eager to undertake the task like men, but in five minutes they were back like boys.

"What is it?" said the doctor eagerly. "Are the Indians coming on?"

"No, father," said Chris, hesitating, for he stopped short, and Bourne looked anxiously at his son.

"You two have not been disagreeing?" he said sharply.

"No, father, not disagreeing," said Ned, "but--"

"Come, out with it," cried the doctor sternly. "Why have you both come back?"

"We've come back for orders, father," said Chris, with a sharp look at Ned.

"I thought I had given you full explanation as to what I wish you to do," said the doctor.

"Not quite, father. You left something out."

"What is it? Quick; we have no time to spare."

"You didn't say which of us was to have the gla.s.s and do the looking out."

The doctor uttered a low angry sound which had he been a dog would have been called a growl, before saying firmly--

"Ned is to use the gla.s.s, and you are to be messenger, for your words and tone say plainly enough that you have been stickling for your right to the gla.s.s, when you should at such a time of emergency have been ready to give up for the sake of all. Off with you."

"Serve you right," said Ned, as they climbed quickly up towards the place from whence they had first seen the Indians. "If it had been my father's gla.s.s I'd have given up in a moment instead of laying claim to it."

Chris was silent, and involuntarily he touched both of his cheeks, as if to feel whether they were as hot outside as they were in.

He found them hotter, and they grew hotter still by the time they had reached their lookout, creeping to it during the last fifty yards and keeping behind stones and bushes and every other bit of cover in their way. "Wo-ho!" cried Chris cheerily then, as he lay on his chest looking down towards the salt plain, with the nettled feeling dying out fast.

"Come on; you can see capitally from here."

"Oh!" cried Ned sharply.--"Here, catch hold."

As he spoke he held out the gla.s.s.

"What's the matter?"

"Something in my right eye.--I can't see."

He was rubbing it violently, and it certainly looked red and inflamed.

"Got something in it?"

"Yes, a fly or a bit of dust, or else I've rubbed it too hard. You must look out, and I'll take the messages."

"Father's orders were that you should use the gla.s.s and I was to take the messages."

"Yes, I know," cried Ned irritably, "but who's to use a gla.s.s with a fly in his eye?"

"Lie down and turn over. I'll take it out with a bit of gra.s.s," said Chris gruffly.

"No, no, catch hold of the gla.s.s and don't waste time. I shall be able to rub it out directly."

"Better let me wipe it out gently with the strand of gra.s.s. I shan't hurt you."

"Yes, you will. Eye's such a tender part. I know; I'll pull the lid up and look at the sun. Then it'll water horribly, and wash the fly away."

"No, it won't," said Chris.

"What!--How do you know?"

"Because it isn't a fly."

"What!" cried Ned, whose cheeks were scarlet, as much as could be seen for one hand held over the closed eye.

"You heard what I said," cried Chris. "It isn't a fly."

"What is it, then?" said Ned, who kept on rubbing hard at the inflamed part. "A bit of grit or dust?"

"No, it's a fib, and it's in both your eyes."

"What?"

"There, don't keep on whating about it. I can see it quite plainly."

"Don't talk nonsense," cried Ned hurriedly. "Can't you see how it hurts me?"

"Yes; but you needn't have told a cram about it."

"What should I tell an untruth for?" cried Ned hotly.

"Because you wanted to cheat me into using the gla.s.s because you thought I was hurt and disappointed."

"I tell you one of my eyes smarts horribly."

"Of course it does--stuffing your knuckles into it and rubbing like that. There, focus the gla.s.s and look out."

"I can't see clearly with my right eye, Chris, honour bright. Catch hold."