ne
branch flowing almost directly from the north and the other coming from
the east, with a huge triangle of mountains widening out between them.

"Thither runs the trail to Humbug Canyon," and he pointed to the
northern stream; "and thither runs the trail to Owl Gulch," and his
finger turned to the eastern branch. "We are now about two hours from
Humbug Canyon and some four hours from Owl Gulch. Remember I am not
absolutely sure I can find the trail the other side of Humbug Canyon;
but I think I can. Stackpole and I went by way of the canyon. Now, which
shall it be?"

"Owl Gulch," answered Mr. Conroyal promptly. "I reckon we can find the
trail all right again--Hi, there, Pedro, what sort of a heathenish charm
is that you are making?" and he turned abruptly to Pedro, who the moment
they had stopped had begun scratching curious lines with his knife on
the face of a soft rock, by the side of which they had halted.

"Si, senor," and Pedro turned a solemn face to Mr. Conroyal, "'tis but a
holy cross I am cutting to scare the devils away from following us up
that evil-smelling stream," and he pointed to the east fork of the
little river, from which arose a faint odor.

"Wal," grinned Ham, "I shore dew hope that you scare 'em away; for thar
shore is devils a-follerin' us," and his grin broadened at sight of the
startled look that came into Pedro's face.

"_Madre de Dios!_" and Pedro crossed himself swiftly.

"But, even a devil must cotch a feller afore he can run his pitchfork
intew him," and Ham chuckled; "an' we ain't cotched yit. As for that
thar stream," and he chuckled again, "th' devil once took a drink out of
it, an' it's smelt of his breath ever since."

"There, that will do, Ham," laughed Mr. Conroyal. "Come on," and he
started up the east fork of the river.

Pedro, the snaky look in his eyes showing more plainly than ever,
swiftly cut a small arrow, with its head pointing up the east fork of
the rivulet, underneath the cross, slipped the knife back into its
sheath, and followed with the pack-horses, his sallow face now all
smiles. Evidently he had explicit faith in the power of his charm to
keep the devils from following them up the evil-smelling stream.

That night our friends camped in Owl Gulch, a steep, narrow defile,
little more than a crack in the huge walls of surrounding rock; and the
next day, after much arduous and violent climbing for horses and men up
the gulch and over the low back of a mounta