“Well, I’ll take it off, if you will carve some meat from your deer,” Frank answered, knowing just how the tenderfoot felt about the matter. “Of course, we couldn’t think of taking it along with us now; but I’ll hang it up in a tree, and on our way home we’ll try and remember it. How’s that, Bob?”
“Fine and dandy,” replied the other. “I won’t promise to cut the steaks as well as you could; but I’ll do my best; and they can be eaten anyhow. So here goes!”
He had, before now, taken some lessons in cutting up game, and was not altogether ignorant of the method. And by the time the practical Frank had hung the skin of the panther high up on a branch, Bob was on hand with a bundle of fresh meat, wrapped in a part of the deer’s hide.
“Say, if we keep on like this I reckon our new trip will see all the others, and go them one better,” declared Bob, after he had fastened the package to his horse.
They rode off, and Frank, having found the pass leading over the mountain ridge, the laborious task of climbing the height was commenced.
But both horses proved game. At half-past three Frank announced that they had ascended as high as the canyon ran. From that point the pass would decline, making it much easier for the animals. Here Bob saw his first flock of great vultures, perched upon some of the high rocks the balloonist had spoken of.
During the balance of the afternoon they rode steadily downward; and as the evening drew near Frank declared that they were going to make their point, which was to leave the mountain range behind them.
“To-morrow we cross another mesa,” he said, “and then come to the mountains where the Cherry Blossom blooms.”
“Then we stand a chance of getting there by to-morrow night?” asked Bob.
“Unless something stops us that I don’t see just now,” replied the prairie boy, as he looked around as usual for a good camp-site.