"Pretty much everything but buffalo is here."
"I hear your brook is full of fish."
"There's where you make a mistake," he replied. "There is not a fish in this valley. The water is spring water, and must possess some mineral property distasteful to trout, for they never run up here. In San Antonio Valley, six miles to the west, in a brook less clear than this, you can catch them by the cart-load."
"I suppose you intend to take this venison with you?"
"Not if you will accept the gift of all but a few quarters, which we will take for friends in the city."
"Thank you and your men. It will be a treat to us, and keep us going until we can put in a hunt on our own account."
We went back to the parade, and stood looking at the surrounding mountains in the deepening twilight.
"What other ways are there in and out of the valley, besides the one which we entered?" I asked.
"Well, on the east and south sides there is a trail between the peaks, four in all, and one good bridle-path to the Pueblo of Jemez. That descends from the valley level to the Jemez River bottom, a drop of nearly three thousand feet, in a distance of three miles, zigzagging twice that distance."
"And to the west and north?"