d with the red shirts of
miners. They became fewer as we advanced, until finally the last pair
had been left behind. We camped that night at the edge of one of the
meadows, beneath pine trees. The air turned very chilly. We built
ourselves a fire of dried branches from the trees. In the meadow the
horses cropped eagerly at the lush green feed, their bells tinkling
pleasantly.

Nothing more remote could be imagined. Nevertheless Bagsby, Don Gaspar,
and Vasquez were not satisfied. They consulted at length and apart; then
Bagsby announced that sentries must stand watches. We grumbled at this,
but Bagsby was firm, and as we had agreed to obey his commands we did so
now. Don Gaspar explained to us later that the Mexican thieves would
trail a party like ours for days, awaiting the chance to make off with
the horses. Bagsby also chose the sentinels, selecting himself, Yank,
Vasquez, and Missouri Jones. Once wrapped in my warm blanket I found
myself selfishly glad that my experience had not been considered worth
trusting.

The third day we occupied in surmounting a tremendous ridge of
mountains. We climbed for hours, working our way up by zigzag and long
slants through the pines, the rocky outcrops, the ledges, and the stiff
brush that made up the slope. It was hard work; and it seemed to have no
end. We arrived at last on a knife-edge summit. Here the trees were
fewer. We looked abroad over the country we had traversed, and that
which lay before us--a succession of dark, dim, undulating ridges with
canons and valleys between, slanting from the great ranges at the right
to brown rolling hills and the heat-covered, half-guessed plains.
Immediately below us, very far down, was a toy-like valley, with low
hills, and flat places, and groves of elfin trees, and a twisting bottle
green river with white rapids.

"Thar's the Porcupine," Bagsby told us briefly.

We took a look, then plunged into the tangles and difficulties of the
descent. Just at sundown, our knees bending under us, we came off that
terrific slant to a grateful wide flat, grown with scattered oaks, and
covered with fine brown grass. A little spring stream wandered through
the meadow toward the river on the other side of the valley.

We camped right there, dumping the packs from the horses almost anyhow.
After a hearty meal, we rolled ourselves immediately into our blankets
and fell into a grateful sleep to the tune of the distant river
murmuring over the shingle.