When this was interpreted to Bill he was like a man demented, and poured out a torrent of incoherent speech which even Coja was unable to understand. John dismissed them both, thinking that the Wanderobbo must have brooded over some old grievance until it had turned his brain. "Bill’s report has given me a notion," he said to Ferrier presently. "If they looted the village they’ll be pretty heavily loaded and will go slowly. They won’t march during the night, and if this business happened about five hours ago we ought to be able to overtake them if we start early in the morning." "But, my dear fellow----" began Ferrier. "Oh, I know it’s a risk, and we’re outnumbered, and we ought to be prudent, and all the other things that people say who sit in easy-chairs and wear goloshes. But it’s the only thing to be done, and I’m going to do it." "But do you think it’s right to leave the farm? Wouldn’t your father----" "Hang--no, I don’t mean that; I’m afraid I’m rather a bad-tempered brute to-night, old fellow; but look at it clearly, and you’ll agree with me. If we sit down under this they’ll try it on again. The farm will never be safe. We might as well cut our sticks at once." "Why not apply to the Government?" "Absolutely useless. To begin with, it would take time, and the raiders would be who knows how far away? If they belong to that gang we heard of who’ve got some sort of a fort up north, they’re in a country where precious few white men have ever been, if any. It would be sheer folly to send a police column into the hills after a roving band of this sort. No, it’s a settlers’ job; it’s one of the risks we run, like the lions, and we’ve got to deal with it." "Well, but how are you going to set about it?" "How are _we_ going to, you mean." "A slip of the tongue, old chap. Of course I’m with you, all along the line. How are we going to set about it, then?" "Don’t know yet. That’s what we’ve got to decide before we go to bed to-night. One thing’s certain, we must make up our minds quickly, start soon, and hurry like the very dickens, for if there’s any truth in this tale of a fort, we must collar our rifles and ammunition before they get to it, or we’re done. That’s the first thing: to get our rifles back." "That’s a large order. How many did they take?" "Four and a shot-gun. If they’re the same lot we dealt with before they’ll have about a dozen now. I know we don’t stand the ghost of a chance of recovering them in a fight; that’s absurd; but I rather think if we put our heads together we can find some way of diddling them." "If it’s a matter of brains I’m conceited enough to believe we have the odds, but there’s a lot to consider besides. We shall have to take a safari to carry provisions, and a pretty big one if we’re going to bluff them. They won’t bolt as they did before. Well, where will you get your safari from?"