"But a different kind of travel, the chances are, Bob. To-day it happened that we were crossing the great mesa, and it was like a floor for being level. Over yonder, ahead, you can see the mountains we must cross. Then there are rivers to ford or swim. Yes, variety is the spice of life; and unless I miss my guess we're due for a big change to-morrow."
"Think we can make Flagstaff by to-morrow night?" asked the Kentucky lad, who, at a time like this, seemed to depend very much upon the superior knowledge of his chum, who had been brought up on the plains.
"We're going to make a try; that's as far as I've got," laughed Frank. "But what about camping here?"
"As good as anywhere," answered Bob. "Fact is, I'm admitting to being ready to drop down in any old place, so long as I can stretch my legs, and roll. No wonder a horse likes to turn over as soon as you take the saddle off. Shall we call it a go, Frank?"
The other jumped to the ground. Bob thought he heard him give a little grunt in doing so; but just then he was interested in repressing his own feelings.
However, when they had moved about somewhat, both boys confessed to feeling considerably better. As for the horses, there was no danger of their straying after that gallop of many hours in the hot sun. They took their roll, and then began hunting for stray tufts of grass among the buffalo berry bushes.
The sun had already set, and twilight told of the coming night. Around them lay the mesa, with the mountains cropping up like a crust along the edge. It was a familiar scene, to Frank in particular, and one of which he never tired.
"I noticed some jack rabbits as we came along," remarked Bob, "and as they always come out of their burrows about dusk to play, suppose I try and knock over a couple right now."
"Wouldn't object myself to a good dinner of rabbit, after that ride," Frank admitted, as he proceeded to get the little tent in position, a task that was only a pleasure to a boy fond of all outdoors.