Little Jim never would admit that he could not do anything there was to be done. When he was stuck he simply asked his father to help him.
Big Jim slung up the small pack and drew down the hitch. Little Jim ducked under Lazy and took the rope on the other side, passing the end to his father.
"Reckon that pack'll ride all right," said the boy, surveying the outfit. "Got the morrals and everything, dad?"
"All set, Jimmy."
"Then let's go. I got my ole twenty-two loaded. If we run on to one of them stingin' lizards, he's sure a sconer. Does dogs eat lizards?"
Big Jim swung to the saddle and hazed the old pack-horse ahead. "Don't know, Jimmy. Sometimes the Indians eat them."
"Eat stingin' lizards?"
"Yep."
"Well, I guess Smiler can, then. Come on, ole-timer!"
Suddenly Little Jim thought of his mother. It seemed that she ought to be with them. Little Jim had wept when Smiler was in question. Now he gazed with clear-eyed faith at his father.