“Seems to me it’s taking quite a long while to get out of this place. The horses must have come in quite a distance.”
“Maybe they did,” agreed Jack, “or maybe they’re taking us out on the other side. I don’t know as it makes much difference.”
“Well, we’re going up hill, anyhow,” went on Nat. “It’s quite a grade.”
It certainly was, and the horses were having no easy task. But they kept on, as if they knew just where they were going.
The boys were beginning to get a bit anxious again, wondering if, after all, the horses were taking them right, when the bad lands came to a sudden end. There were no more of the sawtooth peaks.
“Hurrah, we’re out of ’em!” cried Jack.
“Yes, and look where we are,” said Jack. “Nowhere near camp.”
They were on the shoulder of a steep mountain, while below them, wrapped in the fast approaching night, was a great valley. Then something else caught the eyes of the boys.
“There’s a fire!” called Nat, pointing to a blaze at the foot of the mountain.
“I’ll wager it’s our camp,” declared Jack. “Here goes for a hail.”