weight and strength. Romer applied the same strenuous tactics. But
this trout nearly pulled Romer off the rock before the line broke. I
took occasion then to deliver to the lad a lecture. In reply he said
tearfully: "I didn't know he was so--so big."

When we returned to camp, Haught and his sons were there. Even at a
distance their horses, weapons, and persons satisfied my critical
eye. Lee Haught was a tall, spare, superbly built man, with square
shoulders. He had a brown face with deep lines and sunken cheeks, keen
hazel eyes, heavy dark mustache, and hair streaked a little with gray.
The only striking features of his apparel were his black sombrero and
long spurs.

His sons, Edd and George, were young, lean, sallow, still-faced,
lanky-legged horsemen with clear gray eyes. They did not appear to be
given, to much speech. Both were then waiting for the call of the army
draft. Looking at them then, feeling the tranquil reserve and latent
force of these Arizonians, I reflected that the Germans had failed
in their psychology of American character. A few hundred thousand
Americans like the Haught boys would have whipped the German army.

We held a council. Haught said he would send his son Edd with Doyle,
and by a long roundabout forest road get the wagon up on the mesa.
With his burros and some of our horses packed we could take part of
the outfit up the creek trail, past his cabin, and climb out on the
rim, where we would find grass, water, wood, and plenty of game.

The idea of permanent camp before sunset that very day inspired us to
united and vigorous effort. By noon we had the pack train ready. Edd
and Doyle climbed on the wagon to start the other way. Romer waved his
hand: "Good-bye, Mr. Doyle, don't break down and lose the apples!"

Then we were off, up the narrow trail along the creek. Haught led the
way. Romer attached himself to the bear-hunter, and wherever the trail
was wide enough rode beside him. R.C. and I followed. The other men
fell in behind the pack train.

The ride was hot, and for the most part all up hill. That basin could
be likened to the ribs of a washboard: it was all hills, gorges,
ridges and ravines. The hollows of this exceedingly rough country were
thick with pine and oak, the ridges covered with cedar, juniper, and
manzanita. The ground, where it was not rocky, was a dry, red clay. We
passed Haught's log cabin and clearing of a few acres, where I saw fat
hogs and cattle. Beyond this