The Peril Finders Part 97

"Let the pony wait, boy. I want to be certain that you have no serious hurt. Wait a minute. Let me try."

The doctor began his examination, and question after question came.

"Does that hurt?--Does this?--Now then, do you feel anything when I press here--or there--or there?"

"Yes--yes--yes!" cried the boy petulantly, as he winced and started and cried "Oh!" and "Ah!" and "I say, father!" and "Oh, please don't!"

"I must make sure, my boy."

"But I'm sure, father; won't that do?" cried the boy, in a tone of remonstrance. "Of course all that hurts me; you pulled and pinched me about so. I was as sore as sore all over before you began, and now I'm ever so much worse."

"No, you're not, boy. You're all right. There's nothing broken.

You're bruised and strained, but that's all. You'll soon come right.

Sleep well?"

"Part of the time, father. The rest was all waste, and I lay there feeling as if I ought to be keeping the watch, and thinking that some one else ought to be sleeping who could."

"But you were sleeping soundly when I came."

"Of course, father. I wanted to make up for lost time."

"And you feel now as if you can't touch food?"

Chris stared.

"Are you saying that as a joke, father?"

"Certainly not. You feel as if you had no appet.i.te?"

"That I don't, father. I feel as if I could eat anything."

"Nothing the matter at all but stiff. That will soon pa.s.s off."

"Then you're not going to mix up anything horrid for me, father?"

"Nothing worse than tea or coffee; and you may have damper and bacon to take afterwards," said the doctor, laughing. "Have a good wash and rub out in the sunshine before breakfast. Then eat a good meal and lie about all day again in the sunshine."

"What for, father?"

"To give nature time to get your bruises right."

"But you won't tell me how my pony is--and he's worse than I am. Don't say he's tired, father?" cried the boy piteously, for the doctor's face looked very serious.

"Certainly not. Poor beast, he's far more stiff and sore than you are, besides having all those bad wounds."

"But they're getting better?" cried Chris anxiously.

"They're no worse, my boy," replied the doctor, "but they have had no time to get better. I have stopped them from getting into a bad condition, and the poor thing is limping about grazing as if nothing much was the matter. Are you satisfied?"

"Oh yes," cried Chris eagerly, as he rose and began to try himself in different att.i.tudes. "It has done me good to hear it. I--I don't think I'm quite so stiff this morning."

"That's right."

"Are we going on to-day?"

"On? No. We're prisoners; and besides, we couldn't start with you and your pony in hospital."

"What about the Indians?"

"We haven't seen a sign of them. They're either laying some trap for us, or they have been regularly sickened and have stolen away in the night."

"Are you going to see?"

"Perhaps," said the doctor; "but I'm more disposed to keep a quiet lookout, and rest. We're quite safe here, and provisions are more plentiful than I thought for. Griggs has found the spoor of some big buck and his young does. They have straggled into the valley during the night."

"That's good news, father."

"For the larder: yes. What do you say to taking up land here and making a fresh start in life?"

"Wouldn't do, father," said the boy, shaking his head. "Too far away from everybody."

"Yes, it would be the life of a hermit. Ready to come out?"

"Yes, I'm going out to the water-bucket, as you advised."

"That's right; go. It will give you an appet.i.te for your breakfast."

It was Ned's turn to keep watch from the observatory, as they termed a little shelter, roughly-made on the top terrace; but Chris would have taken his place had not his father interposed.

"But it seems so hard for him to go up there while we're having a good meal down here," said Chris wistfully.

"He shall be looked after," said the doctor, "and I don't want you to do much climbing about yet. You must rest."

Chris was silent, and took an opportunity to have a word or two with Ned before he started to climb up the narrow ways.

"That was very good of you, old chap," whispered Ned, gripping his comrade by the left arm, with the result that Chris groaned and ground his teeth.

"Oh, you brute!" he said sharply.

"Chris!--I am sorry."

"What's the good of being sorry? That's the sorest place I've got."

"I didn't know, old chap."

"I did; and I do now," replied Chris, rubbing the spot softly. "Never mind."

"But I do mind. I ought to have thought. Just too when you'd offered to do my work for me so that I could stop down to breakfast."