Bob and Mark were alongside of the mule. Darling had recovered somewhat from his lameness and was doing remarkably well, much to their satisfaction.
"What's the matter?" called back Bob to Si, who was in the rear.
"Foot's sore again," was the doleful answer.
"Can we do anything for you, Si?" asked Mark, kindly.
"Nary a thing that I know on," grumbled the former farm lad. "I reckon I've got to grin and bear it." And he shut his teeth hard.
"It's a pity Darling is so loaded up. Otherwise you might ride on his back," said Bob.
"And have him pitch me over his head on the rocks? No, thank you. I'll keep on walking and get there somehow," said Si.
The way kept growing worse constantly, until they had to make certain of one step before they ventured the next.
"Thank goodness it isn't snowing," said Mrs. Socket. "If it was, I don't know what we would do."
"They tell me the pass is better a bit further on," said Maybe Dixon. "We'll have just a little more climbing to do, and then the worst of it will be over."