“It was a gorge,” observed Mr. Blandford, stretching himself out on Mr. Deometari’s bed, “and a deep one too.”
“Yes, a gorge,” said Mr. Deometari. “When we reached that gorge we were in a famished condition. Not a bird could be seen except crows and buzzards. The crows would have made good eating, no doubt, but they were very shy. We had lived in the hope of finding a hog, or a sheep, or a cow, but not a sign of a four-footed creature did we see. I don’t know how it was, but that gorge seemed to stretch across our path like the Gulf of Despair. Some of the men dropped on the ground and declared that they would go no farther.
“They said they had no desire to live; they were as weak and as foolish as children. Of the seventeen men in the squad, there were but five who had any hope, any spunk, or any spirit—Blandford there, Pruitt, Henderson, this Captain Johnson, and myself.”
“You ought to put yourself first,” said Mr. Blandford. “You were as fat as a pig all the time, and as full of life as a grasshopper in July.”
“This ravine or gorge,” continued Mr. Deometari, paying no attention to the interruption, “was our salvation. Mr. Blandford and Pruitt explored it for a little distance, and they found a little stream of water running at the bottom. It was what you call a branch. When they came back there was considerable disagreement among the men. The poor creatures, weak and irritable from hunger, had lost all hope, and would listen to no argument that didn’t suit their whims. There was this question to settle: Should we cross the gorge and continue in the course we had been going, or should we’ follow the gorge? It was a very serious question. We had not the slightest idea where we were. We had been wandering about in the mountains for eight days, and if we were going to get out at all it was necessary to be in a hurry about it.
“Then there was another question. If the gorge was to be followed, which way should we go? Should we follow the running water or should we go the other way? Blandford and Pruitt had already made up their minds to follow the running water, and of course I was going with them.”
“That’s because it was down hill,” remarked Mr. Blandford, laughing. “Deo always said his legs were never made for going up hill.”