The Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 2

"I was thinking, Jim," he said, "that we might put in a day or two hunting before we go on. If I remember rightly this is a pretty fair section for game."

"It's a fine idea," said Jim, "let's start out to-day."

"I have done my share of hunting," I said, "and I think I will take a rest."

"You have certainly earned it," replied the captain.

"The next time you cry 'wolf' to me, I won't pay any attention," said Tom.

"All right, Tommy," I replied, "then I will have to think up something new."

"Would it not be a good idea to split our party?" suggested the captain.

"I think it would," replied Jim.

"Then I and Tom will go back into the mountains," continued the captain.

"Jo and I for the plains," cried Jim.

"We will look for the mountain sheep," remarked the captain.

"Jo and I will look for antelope," said Jim.

"And look out for Apaches," said the captain. "Keep a sharp lookout for any signs of smoke," he continued, "don't rush into an ambush. Keep in the open, watch the ridges and the gullies."

"We will remember," promised Jim.

So we proceeded to saddle our mustangs. We had the heavy, easy riding saddles called Mexican, with high pommels and also a high back of carved leather; above the stirrups were also broad bands of carved leather.

Though heavy they were not in any manner hard on our tough little ponies. The weight was also offset by the fact that we were light, and compared to the stalwart Indians we must have seemed like mosquitoes to our ponies.

We likewise took along a good quant.i.ty of jerked beef, enough to last us several days and also some ground corn, for we were old campaigners enough to prepare for an emergency even if everything appeared safe.

We also took our canteens with us. Being thus ready we swung into our saddles.

"Good-bye and luck to you," waved the captain, as we started.

"Good-bye," we returned, and Jim laughingly added, "Take good care of Tommy."

Down the rocky slope we went and then trotted slowly down the canyon, sitting loosely in our saddles and moving to the gait of our ponies like the cowboys, and not sitting straight like Uncle Sam's cavalry.

We found this the easiest way and it was not ungraceful; sometimes when we were tired we rode sideways on the saddle, or with one leg over the pommel.

We were in high spirits as we jogged down the canyon. We were feeling fine and fit. Our constant life out of doors had enured us to hardships and made us impervious to fatigue.

Our muscles were supple and tireless and we were also much better able to endure thirst, cold, and hunger than we had been at first.

In a short time we reached the end of the canyon where grew the pine and cottonwood trees.

"Let's fill our canteens here," advised Jim, "because when we leave the canyon there is no telling when we will strike water again."

"All right," I said, and I swung off my horse and filled my canteen as well as Jim's.

In a short time we left the canyon and rode out on the plains.

"It looks to me as if we might have rain to-day," said Jim.

"It would be a pity if we got wet," I laughed, "might spoil our fine clothes and new sombreros. What makes you think it is going to rain?"

"You can generally count on that mackerel sky furnishing a rain," he said.

"It looks pretty anyway," I said.

It certainly did, the blue morning sky being dappled with numberless little clouds that gave a softness to the sunlight without dimming it to a shadow.

"Let's keep near the foot hills," I said, "because the brush and rocks give us some shelter and the antelope will not be so apt to see us."

"It's a good scheme," a.s.sented Jim.

So we rode southward through the broken country, crossing ravines, riding through the scrub oaks and keeping a wary eye on the plains below.

We had gone about five miles, when I called a halt.

"What are those specks way off there on the plain?" I enquired.

Jim took a long look in the direction that I had indicated.

"I can see them move," he announced, "they are antelope, all right."

"How far do you think they are?" I asked.

"About four miles, I reckon," said Jim. "It looks perfectly level, how in the mischief are we going to get within range?"

Jim studied the situation for a while carefully.

"There is a ravine that runs into a gully," he said, "that appears to be a half a mile south of them, though it may be further."

"We'll try it," I said.

So we made our way carefully, keeping ourselves screened as much as possible by the brush and rocks. Finally we struck the ravine without being observed by the antelope.

We rode down this, until it became a deep, narrow gully. In some places the way was difficult, especially where the gully had been terraced into water falls.

Occasionally our horses seemed to be standing on their heads as they jumped their way down, nimble as goats. We had to tighten the back cinches to keep the saddles from sliding forward.

"Talk about circus riding," I cried after I had come near falling off when Coyote had jumped down five feet, "this is plenty exciting enough for me."

After a while the gully became less broken and broader, the bottom covered with sand, and tall gra.s.ses growing wherever there was a foothold.