"Young men, it is time you were in bed. I presume Mr. Nance will be wanting to make an early start in the morning," said the Professor.
"If we are to get back the same day we'll have to start about daybreak. It's a hard trail to pack. You'll be ready to stretch your legs when we get back to-morrow night."
The boys were not ready to use those same legs when they were turned out at daybreak. There was some grumbling, but not much as they got up and made ready their hurried breakfast. In the meantime Nance had gotten together such provisions as he thought they would need. These he had packed in the saddle bags so as to distribute the weight. Shortly after breakfast they made a start, Dad going first, Tad following close behind.
The first two miles of the Bright Angel Trail was a sort of Jacob's ladder, zigzagging at an unrelenting pitch. Most of the way the boys had to dig their knees into the sides of their mounts to prevent slipping over the animals' necks.
"This is mountain climbing backwards," jeered Stacy.
"I don't know, but I guess I like it the other way," decided Walter, looking down a dizzy slope.
"I hope my pony doesn't stumble," answered Ned.
"You won't know much about it if he does," called Tad over his shoulder.
"Never mind. We'll borrow an Indian basket to bring you home," laughed Stacy in a comforting voice.
The trail was the roughest and the most perilous they had ever essayed. The ponies were obliged to pick their way over rocks, around sharp, narrow corners, where the slightest misstep would send horse and rider crashing to the rocks hundreds of feet below. But to the credit of the Pony Rider Boys it may be said that not one of them lost his head for an instant.