CHAPTER IX
A STRANGE MEETING
"There ain't no chance of our pony's bein' there," remarked Tender, thinking more of the grizzly than anything else. "They'll think we're tellin' a fish story about that bear."
"If it was my own pony," said Carlito, "I wouldn't be afraid to bet my best quiver that he'd still be there. This one I don't know."
Their homeward journey was somewhat different from the climb upward. The ground was soggy and wet with soaked leaves and mud, while water constantly dripped upon them as they passed under the trees. The sun, now setting just above the peak, gave a wan light through a half-mist, half-fog, which had arisen. They were still in rather high altitude, and the air was moist and cold. Creeping things, frightened into their holes by the storm, now ventured forth and skimmed across the ground frequently, disappearing again under the scraggy underbrush.
"Soon be time for the bats and owls," observed Dunk, as a surprised lizard hurried across their path.
Though they were all damp and chilled and anxious to regain their original camp, the boys kept up a cheerful conversation all the way.
"Funny you fellows didn't see that bird," said Fred.
"There wasn't no bird," twitted Jerry. "You just blinked your eyes when that flash came, and dreamt the rest."