Part 11 (2/2)

Frank let go his frenzied clutch, and swung into s.p.a.ce; but willing hands quickly drew him up until he stood with his chums.

”Did I get him?” was the first question he asked, at which the stockman laughed heartily and patted him on the back.

”Spoken like a true sportsman, I declare! How about it, Reddy?” he said.

”There's his game, sir, lying just at the foot of that old slide. It was as neat a shot as I ever saw,” declared the young cowboy, pointing.

”Which is the truth, old fellow!” exclaimed Jerry, seizing Frank's hand and wringing it warmly, without a touch of jealousy, even though his own laurels as the admitted best shot of the club seemed in jeopardy.

”But what a pity we can't get it! I hate to think of killing game and leaving it for the wolves,” said Frank.

”Oh, that's soon remedied. Reddy will promise to land that sheep here for you in double-quick order, eh?”

Reddy was already fastening one end of his lariat to a projecting stone that resembled a saddle-horn. This done, he tried it, to make sure that it would hold. Then he tossed the balance of the rope, loop and all, over the edge.

”Does it reach down?” asked Mr. Mabie.

”Just gets there, and no more,” replied Will, craning his neck to see.

Reddy flung himself over in what struck Will as a most reckless fas.h.i.+on; but he discovered in time that these free riders of the ranches do everything in that nervous manner. It is a country where men quickly learn that often their lives depend on their ability to act promptly and like a flash.

”He's down already,” announced Will, half a minute later.

And it was not ten minutes before they saw the cowboy coming back again.

He had Frank's first mountain sheep upon his back, and though the way was rough he jumped from stone to stone with surprising agility for one who spent so much time in the saddle.

In due time the journey was resumed.

”How much further do we go?” asked Will, as he followed behind the guide, Reddy.

”Here's the top of the ridge. Now you can see the other valley, and the noise you hear is made by a cataract in the river. We camp just below that. Fis.h.i.+ng is good there, and I guess you'll like it,” was the reply.

They soon headed down, and the end of their day's work seemed close at hand. It can be easily a.s.sumed that none of the boys were sorry. Quite unused to riding, they began to feel the effects already.

”I'm glad it's a camp after this. I've sure got a cramp in my legs that it'll take a long time to get out,” grunted Bluff.

”Rome wasn't built in a day, son. Each time you ride you'll notice that cramp less and less, until after a month you will be entirely free from it. But here we are at our journey's end, and I, for one, don't feel sorry, because for ten minutes I've been scenting that coffee. The boys have seen us coming, and started to have dinner cooked.”

It proved to be just as Mr. Mabie said. A most appetizing camp dinner was ready for them when they arrived. Perhaps Jerry and Frank may have thought it did not fully come up to some similar feasts they had helped prepare in the woods, but of course they never hinted at such a thing; for those cowboys, while the most accommodating of fellows, were also thin-skinned in some respects.

Will was fairly delighted at the romantic looks of the camp, back of which the waterfall came tumbling down. He could hardly wait to eat his dinner before he set to work to secure a _fac-simile_ of the picture, with the party gathered around the fire, and the three tents making a pleasing contrast to the dark green of the pinon trees.

Most of the party were contented to remain quiet during the balance of the day, but Bluff developed an unusually ambitious spirit for action.

Truth to tell, he secretly considered that his chums were having more than their share of good luck in making a record at bagging game, and thought it time he started in.

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