The air was becoming chilly, the Overland Riders now being at an altitude of nearly eight thousand feet, and still upward bound.
A week had elapsed since they left the “Lazy J” ranch, and during all that time they had sighted no game except some grouse that they had shot at but failed to bring down. Provisions were at a low ebb and all knew that they were nearly face to face with a serious situation.
Hippy Wingate was pondering deeply when they pulled up for luncheon one noon. He was wondering what he was going to give his party for supper, for Hippy was the official game-hunter of the Overland party, and they had come to rely on his resourcefulness to provide food for them. Stacy Brown was even more deeply interested in this matter than was “Uncle Hip,” but for a somewhat different reason.
“What do we eat to-day?” he asked in a tone that he tried to make sound light-hearted.
Some one laughed.
“Oh, it’s not because I’m hungry,” hastily explained Chunky. “I just wanted to know so as not to have to open all the packs unless we are going to have a spread.”
“Ours is more likely to be a snack than a spread,” suggested Grace laughingly.
“What is it going to be, Hippy?” questioned Nora.
“Raisins and hard tack, my dear.”
“You don’t mean it?” gasped the fat boy.