They had once more raised the tent, having been obliged to cut one new
pole, when Jim returned leading the horses. They were very nervous and
kept tossing their heads, rearing and plunging at the slightest unusual
sound.
"Something wrong with them. I don't know what it is," he said, in
answer to the guide's glance of inquiry.
"Lead 'em up here. Well, I swum!"
"Wha--at is it?" demanded Margery, sitting up.
"Look at that, will ye?"
The girls got as close to the animals as was prudent. Janus parted the
hair on the hip of one horse and pointed to a small wound. The other
horse bore a similar wound.
"Oh, they have hurt themselves. Isn't it too bad?" sympathized Hazel.
"Hurt themselves!" exploded the guide. "Those wounds were made with
some sharp instrument, maybe a knife. I don't know. Now, can you
blame them for running away and taking the tent down? This business is
moving too fast! What are we going to do?"
"You are the guide, sir. You are the responsible head of the party,"
replied Miss Elting.
"I thought I was, too. But, I swum! I don't know which from t'other
any more.
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