little cliff, looking out very sharply lest Big Reuben should be
lying in wait for us in some crevice, and finding that the tracks led
straight away for Mount Lincoln, we followed them, I doing the tracking
while Joe kept watch ahead. The surface of the Second Mesa was very
uneven: there were many little rocky hills and many small canyons, some
of the latter as much as a hundred feet deep, so, keeping in mind the
bear's crafty nature, whenever the trail led us near any of these
obstacles I would stand still while Joe examined the canyon or the rocks,
as the case might be.

Every time we did this, however, we drew a blank. The trail continued to
lead straight away for the mountain without diverging to one side or the
other, and for five or six miles we followed it until the stunted cedars
began to give place to pine trees, when we decided that we might as well
stop, especially as for some time past there had ceased to be any
blood-marks on the stones and we had been following only the occasional
imprint of the bear's paws in the patches of sand.

"The trail is headed straight for that rocky gorge, Phil," said my
companion, pointing forward, "and it's no use going on. Even if your
father hadn't forbidden it, I wouldn't go into that gorge, knowing that
Big Reuben was in there somewhere, not if the county commissioners
should offer me the whole county as a reward."

"Nor I, either," said I. "Big Reuben may have his mountain all to
himself as far as I'm concerned. So, come on; let's get back. What time
is it?"

"After noon," replied Joe, looking up at the sun. "We've been a long
time coming, but it won't take us more than half the time going back.
Let's dig out at once."

Turning our ponies, we set off at an easy lope, and had ridden about two
miles on the back track when, skirting along the edge of one of the
little canyons I have mentioned, we noticed a tiny spring of water,
which, issuing from the face of the cliff close to the top, fell in a
thin thread into the chasm.

"Joe," said I, "let's stop here and eat our lunch. I'm getting pretty
hungry."

"All right," said Joe; and in another minute we were seated on the edge
of the cliff with our feet dangling in space, munching our bread and
bacon, while the ponies, with the reins hanging loose, were cropping the
scanty grass just behind us.

About five feet below where we sat was a little ledge some eighteen
inches wide, which, on our left, gradually sloped upward