open mouths, and eyes sparkling with delight. We
relieved them of their packs and saddles: and then, having picketed
them, left them to eat to their hearts' content.

We now set about looking after something for our own supper. We had not
yet suffered much from hunger, as we had occasionally chewed pieces of
our dried meat while crossing the plain. But we had eaten it quite raw;
and _tasajo_--for that is its name--is no great eating, either raw or
roasted. We had been living upon it for more than a week, and we longed
for something fresh. During all the route from El Paso we had fallen in
with no game, except some half-dozen lean antelopes, only one of which
we had succeeded in shooting.

While we were picketing our animals, and getting ready to cook our
supper of coffee and tasajo, one of the hunters--a tireless fellow named
Lincoln--had stolen off up the ravine. Presently we heard the sharp
crack of his rifle ringing through the defile; and, looking up, we saw a
flock of "bighorns"--so the wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains are
called--leaping from rock to rock, and almost flying like birds up the
face of the cliffs. It was not long before Lincoln made his appearance
at the mouth of the defile, carrying a large body upon his shoulders--
which we knew, by the huge crescent-shaped horns, had once been a member
of the flock we had seen escaping. It proved to be as fat as a buck;
and the knives of the skilful hunters were not long in skinning and
dissecting it. Meanwhile, a couple of axes had been grappled by stout
hands; a cotton-wood tree name crashing down after a few sharp blows;
and, having been cut into "logs," was soon crackling under the red
blaze. Over this, the ribs and steaks of the bighorn soon sputtered,
and the coffee-kettle steamed, simmered, and bubbled, with its brown and
aromatic contents. Our supper over, one and all of us rolled ourselves
in our blankets, and were soon forgetful of the perils through which we
had passed.

Next morning we arose refreshed, and after breakfast a consultation was
held as to what course we should now take. We would have followed the
stream, but it appeared to run in a southerly direction, and that would
not do for us. We wanted to go eastward. While we were deliberating
upon this, an exclamation from the hunter Lincoln drew our attention.
He was standing in the open ground, at some distance out from the
willows, and pointing southward. We all looked in that