mine, and I'm going to have it before I leave this miserable old
hole," declared the boy.

"I hope you find it. I'd like to know how the thing ever got away in
that mysterious manner."

"Maybe the lion took it."

"Mebby he did. Funny I hadn't thought of that," answered Nance gravely.
Then both he and the Professor burst into a shout of laughter.

They made their way slowly back to the point where they were to meet
the others of the party. Chunky, now being without a rifle, was well
content to remain with the guide and the Professor.

While all this was going on Tad and Walter were picking their way over
the rough ridges, through narrow canyons, riding their ponies where a
novice would hardly have dared to walk. The ponies seemed to take to
the work naturally. Not a single misstep was made by either of them.
They, too, could hear the dogs, but the latter were far away most of
the time, even though, for all the riders knew, they might have been
just the other side of the rocky wall along which the two boys were
traveling.

They kept on in this way until late in the afternoon, when they stopped
and dismounted, deciding that they would have a bite to eat.

"It doesn't look as if we were going to have any luck, does it, Tad?"
asked Walter in a disappointed tone.

"No, it doesn't. But one never can tell. In hunting game you know it
comes upon one suddenly. You have to be ever on the alert. We know
that the dogs have been on the trail of something."

"Perhaps deer," suggested Walter.

"Yes, it is possible, though I don't know whether those dogs will trail
deer or not. You know they may be trained to hunt lions. I didn't
hear Mr. Nance say."

They were munching biscuit and eating oranges as they rested, which
must have tasted good to them. The temperature was going down with
the day, though the light was strong in the canyon where they were
standing. Above them the jagged, broken cliffs rose tier on tier until
they seemed to disappear far up in the fleecy clouds that were drifting
lazily over the Canyon.

All at once Silver Face, Tad's pony, exhibited signs of restlessness,
which seemed to be quickly communicated to the other animal. The pintos
stamped, shook their heads and snorted.

"Whoa! What's wrong with you fellows?" demanded Tad, eyeing the ponies
keenly. "Smell something, eh?"

"Maybe they smell oats," suggested Walter.

"I guess not. They are a long way from oats at the present moment