"I guess I never want to be closer to a diamond-back than that," Bob admitted, with a shake of his head.
Soon a delightful aroma began to steal through the air in the immediate vicinity of the little camp near the foot of the towering, mysterious mountain; as some bacon sizzled in the pan, and the crushed berry from Java boiled and bubbled most cheerily.
Besides, upon some splinters of wood Frank had thrust small pieces of venison, the last fresh meat they had brought from the ranch. As the heat from the red coals began to turn these to a crisp brown, Bob sniffed the added fragrance in the air after the manner of a hungry range-rider, or a boy with a healthy appetite.
"Seems to be plenty of game around here," he remarked. "I jumped two rabbits near the spring, and they went up the rise, as usual."
"Yes," remarked the cook, "the place looks good for game, and you'd wonder why those Injuns passed it by, only I happen to know. Ten to one there's a deer in that thicket of wild plum over there. And you can just believe an old grizzly wouldn't want a better hang-out than up yonder among the cliffs and crags of the mountain side."
"But to return to our mutton, which after all is antelope meat, when do we start operations? I'm nearly wild, with all these smells, and never a bite. The water just drips from my tongue, I give you my word, Frank."
For answer the other picked up the coffee pot, and set it aside for a minute, to let the contents settle.
"Grub's ready, Bob," he said, laughingly; "and I reckon we'll not bother banging on the frying pan with a big spoon to-night, range fashion. Sit down, and get your pannikin ready for some of this bacon and meat. How does that coffee look?"
"Say, it's got the color, all right, and if it only tastes half as fine as it looks you'll hear no kick coming from me," replied Bob, as he poured his tin cup full of the liquid.
As the boys ate they chatted on various topics, most of which talk had of course some connection with the big cattle ranch they had so recently left.