Breakfast, such as it was, disposed of, the four deceptively meek looking burros were lined up in the lupin perfumed meadow, in semblance of a pack-train, (the hundred pounds of duffle divided between them that they might make faster time, as well as a safe-guard against further accidents). A committee of the whole now decided they must catch more fish and dry them, then lead a forced march to Guadaloupe Rancho, and if they found range cattle, they would bring down a calf and square it later with the owner.
For two days Norris, Ace and Ted caught fish, while Pedro dried them, and Long Lester scoured the woods for game birds, rabbits,—anything and everything he might find. Then came two strenuous days during which they bore in the general direction of Red Top.
Without warning, they came to a sheer ledge fringed with minarets, and stared across a glacier-gouged canyon a mile wide. Progress in that direction was effectually checked. They found themselves with a view of such miles of snow-capped peaks that they stood speechless, with little thrills running up and down their spines at the sheer beauty of the scene.
To the right, the way was clear across a rock-strewn elevation where the only trees were squat, twisted, with branches reaching along the ground as if for additional foot-hold against the never-ceasing trade winds. Again they were brought to a halt by a peak of granite blocks.
“Do you know, fellows,” said Norris, suddenly, “mountain-building is still going on, under our very feet.”
“Is there going to be an earthquake?” gasped Pedro.
“There are likely to be slight earthquake shocks any time in this region. The last big ’quake, that caused any marked dislocation, was in 1872, though, so we have nothing to worry about. But I’m going to be able to show you some rock formations that will illustrate what I was telling you the other day.”
“You mean,” brightened Ace, “showing how these 14,000 foot peaks attained their present height?—How there were two up-lifts?”
“Yes, and we are standing, this very minute, on a basalt step that some earthquake has faulted from the main basalt-capped mass. Just see how the whole story is revealed right there in this gorge! You can see the streaks of basalt, which we know lie in horizontal layers, and rest on vertical strata of the Carboniferous and Triassic age.”
“Whoa—there!” groaned Long Lester. “Would you mind telling us that again, in words of one syllable? I calc’late it must be a mighty interesting yarn, from the hints you’ve let out now and ag’in, but how’n tarnation––”