"I must fire my revolver," he thought, and his hand went to his belt to unb.u.t.ton the leather flap of the holster; but he did not withdraw the weapon, for he knew that the report would scare the poor beasts and send them galloping in all directions.

The time occupied in this was very short, but it was long enough for two more arrows to fall very near him, one nearly upright to cut its way with a sharp whizz amongst the gra.s.s and bury its head in the soft earth at an angle of forty-five degrees.

Then another idea struck Chris--tardily, for he felt that he should have thought of it at first.

Thrusting his hand into his breast, he drew forth a little chain, at the end of which was a metal whistle, and the alarm note he blew sounded piercing and shrill.

He did not stop there, but did what he felt was best. Hobbling to the side of his mustang and talking caressingly to it the while, he took hold of the thick forelock and began to lead it towards where he hoped to find safety.

The docile little animal made no opposition to being led from the pleasant pasture, but started and shivered as there came the sharp whizz of another arrow--too painful a memory to his ear--making the poor beast limp along a little faster in obedience to his master's effort to get him away.

Then another arrow came terribly near them, and Chris whistled again, his spirits rising though, for the rest of the animals, taking in the fact of one of them being led away from either corn or water, began to neigh and squeal as they closed in after their leader, so that if there proved to be time enough before the arrows took effect, Chris felt, as he blew a long and shrill note again, that he would be able to guide the herd into safety.

"Why are they not on the lookout?" groaned the boy, for his progress was painfully slow; "they ought to see that something is wrong." But he was ignorant of the fact that nothing was visible from the lookout but himself and the animals trotting about playfully as they kept pretty close to the wounded mustang.

An arrow again, and another, each wonderfully near, but no harm was done. Then another which fell with a dull thud, and was followed by a wild scream which startled the herd into disorder, sending the mules helter-skelter, kicking and plunging, all but one, which galloped away by itself, turning its head the while to bite at an arrow which had buried itself in its back.

That strange scream had done what Chris's whistle failed in, drawn attention to something being wrong, while directly after a little puff of smoke darted from the upper terrace, followed by its report and the reverberation of echoes. Then another shot, and another, and no more arrows fell, though Chris in his slow progress suffered as much agony as if they had still been dropping all around.

But now the doctor came running out, followed by Wilton, and under the cover of a few more shots the little herd was driven in, slowly enough, for the wounded mule progressed more and more slowly till it hung back close alongside of Chris's mustang, showing that it was badly hurt.

"Only enough to prove that the enemy are well on the watch," said the doctor, after he had seen to the wounded mule, "and a warning to us that we must not relax our care."

Griggs had by this time descended from the terrace, it having been his rifle that had put an end to the coming of the arrows.

"Hardly thought they could have shot so far," he said; "but after all, they didn't get an arrow much more than half-way here. Say, didn't do you much good, Master Chris, hurrying back like that."

"I'm afraid it's the mustang that has suffered," said Chris. "I didn't hurt, only it was dreadfully hard to find that I couldn't run."

"You ought to be very thankful that you can walk, Chris," said the doctor quietly. "It is next door to marvellous that you should have escaped without a broken bone. But now then, Griggs, matters begin to look serious. What is to be done?"

"That's just what I have been thinking, sir. The enemy isn't a bit satisfied, and the next time they begin making targets of us they may be more fortunate."

"What I am afraid of is that they may now get upon the high ground above us here."

"And that would be awkward, sir," said the American thoughtfully. Then after a pause--"We've got the whip hand of them with our rifles."

"Of course."

"And we've shown them a little of what we can do, but not enough.

There's only one thing left now."

"And what's that?" asked the doctor, after a glance at his son.

"Give them such a lesson that they won't stop to have any more, but make off into the desert."

"That's very good advice," replied the doctor, "but how can it be done without risk to ourselves?"

"Let them think we daren't stir away from here, while we wait for a few days to let some one get well again, and his nag too, while we have not been wasting time, but under the screen of hunting and shooting have been watching, and when once we have got to know where they camp, we must come upon them suddenly some night, and the rifles must do the rest."

"Well, Chris, what do you think of that?" said the doctor, turning to where the two boys sat listening.

"Can't be done," said Chris shortly.

"Why?"

"How are you going to find out where they make their camp? They're in one place to-day and another to-morrow."

"Yes, Griggs, that is the difficulty."

"Well, I know that, sir," replied Griggs; "but can you think of a better plan?"

"Only that of waiting till we see them some time in the open, and then coming out to attack them."

"Half-a-dozen of us against a hundred," said Griggs dryly; "all mounted men who can ride as if they were part of their horses. We could shoot a good many of them, of course, but they'd be too much for us if we killed or wounded fifty of them. For how many of us would go down in doing it?"

"They could spare ten," said Bourne, who had just sauntered up, "while we couldn't spare one."

"No, nor half one," said Griggs. "What we've got to do, gentlemen, is something that will give them such a startler that they'll have had enough of it; and it must be done without our getting a scratch."

"Yes," said the doctor; "but how?"

"That's what we've got to think out, sir. We ought to be a bit cleverer than a set of savage Indians. I vote we all make up our minds to think it out. We've got plenty of time, for we're all right here as to food and shelter, and can't move for a week certain."

"On account of Chris and the injured beasts," said the doctor. "Very well; we must all put on our wisdom caps and puzzle it out. I'll go and have a chat with Wilton now."

The little meeting broke up, and Griggs went to spend his short time before going on duty in cleaning his rifle, while, as if attracted to the same spot, Chris and Ned followed him to a sheltered nook near the place where a bucket was standing ready for sending down to the running water and bringing up refilled.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

THE OTHER SIDE.

As the two boys made their way amongst the scattered stones they caught sight of the doctor stepping out on to the terrace where Wilton stood, gla.s.s in hand, scanning the opposite terraces and the sharp edge of the top, where the precipice stood out clear against the sky.

"I wonder whether they'll hit on a good idea," said Ned. "Here, let's sit down. I say, Griggs, you might be a good fellow and give my rifle-barrel a brush out too."

"I don't say I won't," replied the American. "I might give yours a touch up too, squire. I'll see," he continued. "I don't expect you're in very good trim for pumping water through gun-barrels."

"No," said Chris, wincing as he raised his arm and lowered it again as if pa.s.sing a cleaning-rod through the piece.

"Here, steady!" cried Griggs. "Don't take yours to pieces yet. One at a time. We might want to have another shot or two at these red Robin Hoods."

"'Tisn't likely," said Ned.

"Isn't it? You never know what's likely with those gentlemen. While we're out here in the wilds we want to be always ready for action."

The American chatted away as he took his rifle to pieces, washing, carefully drying, and oiling it, in the hot sunshine, while Chris placed himself in a restful position to avoid aches and pains, and Ned leaned back against a stone with his hands behind his head, never once joining in the conversation. In fact, part of the time he seemed to be dozing, for his eyes were half-closed. At last, though, he started suddenly, made a gesture with his open hand as if catching a fly off his leg, and exclaimed--