"Mebby he did. Funny I hadn't thought of that," answered Nance gravely.
Then both he and the Professor burst into a shout of laughter.
They made their way slowly back to the point where they were to meet the others of the party. Chunky, now being without a rifle, was well content to remain with the guide and the Professor.
While all this was going on Tad and Walter were picking their way over the rough ridges, through narrow canyons, riding their ponies where a novice would hardly have dared to walk. The ponies seemed to take to the work naturally. Not a single misstep was made by either of them. They, too, could hear the dogs, but the latter were far away most of the time, even though, for all the riders knew, they might have been just the other side of the rocky wall along which the two boys were traveling.
They kept on in this way until late in the afternoon, when they stopped and dismounted, deciding that they would have a bite to eat.
"It doesn't look as if we were going to have any luck, does it, Tad?" asked Walter in a disappointed tone.
"No, it doesn't. But one never can tell. In hunting game you know it comes upon one suddenly. You have to be ever on the alert. We know that the dogs have been on the trail of something."
"Perhaps deer," suggested Walter.
"Yes, it is possible, though I don't know whether those dogs will trail deer or not. You know they may be trained to hunt lions. I didn't hear Mr. Nance say."
They were munching biscuit and eating oranges as they rested, which must have tasted good to them. The temperature was going down with the day, though the light was strong in the canyon where they were standing. Above them the jagged, broken cliffs rose tier on tier until they seemed to disappear far up in the fleecy clouds that were drifting lazily over the Canyon.
All at once Silver Face, Tad's pony, exhibited signs of restlessness, which seemed to be quickly communicated to the other animal. The pintos stamped, shook their heads and snorted.