CHAPTER FOUR

THE CATTLE RUSTLERS

Dawn broke, so we descended through wet grasses to the canon. There,
after some difficulty, we managed to start a fire, and so ate
breakfast, the rain still pouring down on us. About nine o'clock, with
miraculous suddenness, the torrent stopped. It began to turn cold.
The Cattleman and I decided to climb to the top of the butte after
meat, which we entirely lacked.

It was rather a stiff ascent, but once above the sheer cliffs we found
ourselves on a rolling meadow tableland a half-mile broad by, perhaps,
a mile and a half in length. Grass grew high; here and there were
small live oaks planted park-like; slight and rounded ravines
accommodated brooklets. As we walked back, the edges blended in the
edges of the mesa across the canon. The deep gorges, which had
heretofore seemed the most prominent elements of the scenery, were
lost. We stood, apparently, in the middle of a wide and undulating
plain, diversified by little ridges, and running with a free sweep to
the very foot of the snowy Galiuros. It seemed as though we should be
able to ride horseback in almost any given direction. Yet we knew that
ten minutes' walk would take us to the brink of most stupendous
chasms--so deep that the water flowing in them hardly seemed to move;
so rugged that only with the greatest difficulty could a horseman make
his way through the country at all; and yet so ancient that the bottoms
supported forests, rich grasses, and rounded, gentle knolls. It was a
most astonishing set of double impressions.

We succeeded in killing a nice, fat white-tail buck, and so returned to
camp happy. The rain, held off. We dug ditches, organised shelters,
cooked a warm meal. For the next day we planned a bear hunt afoot, far
up a manzanita canon where Uncle Jim knew of some "holing up" caves.

But when we awoke in the morning we threw aside our coverings with some
difficulty to look on a ground covered with snow; trees laden almost to
the breaking point with snow, and the air filled with it.

"No bear today" said the Cattleman.

"No," agreed Uncle Jim drily. "No b'ar. And what's more, unless yo're
aimin' to stop here somewhat of a spell, we'll have to make out to-day."

We cooked with freezing fingers, ate while dodging avalanches from the
trees, and packed reluctantly. The ropes were frozen, the hobbles
stiff, everything either crackling or wet. Finally the task was
finished. We took a last