Whirling around, he went off like a shot, only desirous of placing plenty of ground between himself and the mad creature. Accustomed to cattle as he must be, nevertheless there was something terrifying about the bunchy-headed buffalo that sent the pony into equine spasms.
Frank managed to pull him in a bit, so as not to outdistance the charging bull, lest he go back to his prisoner again. He also continued to flaunt that offensive red flag and send jeering whoops over his shoulder that kept his pursuer spurred up to fever heat.
A full mile was covered in a short time. Then a distant shout was borne to Frank's ears. On investigating he discovered that Lanky had succeeded in capturing the run-away mount and was already close to the tree, from which Paul could be seen descending in eager haste.
"Now then, get a move on you, Chestnut!" Frank called out to his pony, at the same time kicking his heels into the animal's sides.
Gradually he began to gain on the bull, which after another mile lost heart, and dropped out of the race. Frank, seeing his two chums coming in a round-about way, waited for them to join him. Paul was grinning amiably, as if he had rather enjoyed having been in the spotlight. Things looked different to him, now that it was all over but the shouting.
They again took up the search for the pony that was so badly needed to carry the pack, and were fortunate enough to glimpse the animal feeding on some luxuriant grass that had tempted him to forget his love of freedom.
Having captured the run-away, the boys once more turned their faces toward the south, and in due time reached camp. The others did not return for another hour or more, and were of course pleased to learn of the recovery of the pack animal.
It was now noon, so they had a bit of cold lunch, and after that a start was made.
Jerry was in the lead, it being their intention to make for the canyon. If this was followed up the face of the mountain range it would in due time take them to the plateau where Gold Fork lay in its desolation.
The boys now had a chance to see a real Rocky Mountain canyon, where ages ago a torrent used to come tearing down from the snow-capped peaks above, gradually to wear away the earth lying between solid walls of rock, until they loomed up a hundred feet or more on either hand.