“Mr. Smith knows,” nodded Hippy.
“The explanation is not satisfactory. Once more I rise to ask if this kyack thing is some sort of dried beef that we are expected to eat when real food is scarce?” insisted Chunky.
“You and I, lad, would have to be pretty hungry to eat a kyack,” laughed Hippy. “The loops of the kyack are slung on each side of the horse. They are used to pack belongings over the mountains. I have also ordered sawbuck trees for the pack-saddles, together with pack-cinch, and pack-rope for each animal. I also took the liberty of buying blankets from which to make saddle-pads. It will be cheaper than trying to get along with horses with sore backs, I think. Then there are hobbles for the horses, a couple of cow bells—”
“Are we going to take cows along with us?” wondered Chunky, opening his eyes a little wider.
“Not quite. Only a calf or two,” murmured Emma Dean.
“The bells are for the horses, so that they may be easily found in the morning,” spoke up Tom Gray. “I thought you had been out before.”
“I have, but never with such an outfit as this, especially the transmigration end of it,” retorted Stacy, giving Emma a quick look to see if his shot had gone home. “I see,” he added. “But every time I hear the bells a-ringing, I shall think of home and a pitcherful of warm milk.”
“Perfectly proper food for the species to which I so recently referred,” observed Emma airily. “However, from all accounts, you will have nothing more nourishing than snow-water from the tall peaks of the Sierras.”
“Br-r-r-r!” shivered Stacy.
At Hippy’s direction, the Honorable Woo Smith led the pack-horses over to the general store, and there, with Stacy to assist him, Hippy began packing their equipment, throwing a diamond hitch about each pack. The girls, observing the work, discovered that Stacy Brown was quite as familiar with “throwing packs” as was his Uncle Hippy.