a bunch
of burros.... Joe's up to his old tricks. Shefford, look out for Joe!"

Rather sheepishly Shefford returned to his mustang and sheathed the
rifle, and then took a long look at the animals up the draw. They,
resembled deer, but upon second glance they surely were burros.

"Durn me! Now if I didn't think they sure were deer!" exclaimed Joe. He
appeared absolutely sincere and innocent. Shefford hardly knew how to
take this likable Mormon, but vowed he would be on his guard in the
future.

Nas Ta Bega soon led the pack-train toward the left wall of the canyon,
and evidently intended to scale it. Shefford could not see any trail,
and the wall appeared steep and insurmountable. But upon nearing the
cliff he saw a narrow broken trail leading zigzag up over smooth rock,
weathered slope, and through cracks.

"Spread out, and careful now!" yelled Withers.

The need of both advices soon became manifest to Shefford. The burros
started stones rolling, making danger for those below. Shefford
dismounted and led Nack-yal and turned aside many a rolling rock. The
Indian and the burros, with the red mule leading, climbed steadily. But
the mustangs had trouble. Joe's spirited bay had to be coaxed to face
the ascent; Nack-yal balked at every difficult step; and Dynamite
slipped on a flat slant of rock and slid down forty feet. Withers and
Lake with ropes hauled the mare out of the dangerous position. Shefford,
who brought up the rear, saw all the action, and it was exciting, but
his pleasure in the climb was spoiled by sight of blood and hair on
the stones. The ascent was crooked, steep, and long, and when Shefford
reached the top of the wall he was glad to rest. It made him gasp to
look down and see what he had surmounted. The canyon floor, green and
level, lay a thousand feet below; and the wild burros which had followed
on the trail looked like rabbits.

Shefford mounted presently, and rode out upon a wide, smooth trail
leading into a cedar forest. There were bunches of gray sage in the open
places. The air was cool and crisp, laden with a sweet fragrance. He saw
Lake and Withers bobbing along, now on one side of the trail, now on the
other, and they kept to a steady trot. Occasionally the Indian and his
bright-red saddle-blanket showed in an opening of the cedars.

It was level country, and there was nothing for Shefford to see except
cedar and sage, an outcropping of red rock in places, and the winding
trail. Mocking-b