He stared at it and then laughed. "They ain't satisfied with watchin' th' trail an' listenin' with both ears, but they has to light it up! There ain't no danger whatever of me tryin' to get down now; an' I'd like to see anybody try to get up it while that fire's burnin'! They're shore kind to me."
"You be careful an' keep it out of th' brush," warned a faint voice. "If she catches, this canyon will be a little piece of h—l. Everythln's so dry it rustles."
"Ain't you turned in yet?" demanded the guard. "You never mind about th' fire. You get to sleep; an' you get awake again at twelve."
"Huh!" came the laughing retort. "We can all go to sleep while that's blazin'. Go gnaw yore bone an' quit growlin'."
Johnny laughed loudly, derisively. "I may set it on fire myself!" he jeered. "An' if I don't, th' rainy season is purty near due—an' when it comes you'll need a boat. Fine lot of man-hunters you are. All you can shoot is boots an' skunks!"
A flash split the darkness, and the canyon tossed the report from side to side as though loath to let it die. When the reverberations softened to a rolling mutter he jeered the marksman and called him impolite names. The angry retort was quite as discourteous and pleased him greatly.
An hour passed, and then Johnny arose and crept softly down the trail, hugging the rock wall closely. When he reached a small pile of broken branches, caught in a fissure, he gathered an armful and carried them up on the butte. Firewood was too scarce for him to neglect any opportunities. A second trip enabled him to find a few scattered pieces and they were added to his store. Then he went to his horse, removed the picket rope, and going to the edge of the cliff at a spot over the trail he tied one end of the rope around a rock and lowered the rest of it over the rim. Another trip down the trail was necessary to make the free end fast to a dead fir that lay along the wall, and having tied it securely he slipped back to the plateau, hurried to the rope and pulled on it in vain. Try as he might he could raise only one end of the log.
"Cuss it!" he grunted; then he grinned and whistled a clear note. A few minutes passed and soft hoof-beats came slowly nearer. Then a black bulk loomed up beside him and nuzzled his neck. "I forgot th' saddle," he said. "You wait here, Dearly Beloved," and he slipped away, the horse following him.
They returned together and Johnny made the line fast to the pommel of the saddle, took hold of it himself to show his good will, and spoke to the horse.
"Oh, you don't know nothin' about haulin', huh?" he grunted, dropping the rope and taking the reins. "Come on, now—easy does it. Easy! Easy! Keep it there—th' cussed thing's got stuck on th' edge." In a moment he returned. "All right! Over she comes."