“I wish there was a good breakfast ready for us,” said Raymond, as they started down the mountain. “I’m tired to death of that everlasting dry bread.”
“Dry bread, you know, is more hygienic than fresh bread.”
“It may be hygienic, but it’s not high living. I just long for something really tasty, like quail or rabbit.”
“Well, there are rabbits here. I saw one this morning down in the cañon. Do you think you could hit one with that revolver?”
“Of course I could hit one! What’s the matter with you?”
“Then I hope we’ll see another.”
The long night’s rest, after food and drink, had made the boys feel so fine that they already had little to remind them of their trying experience of the previous two days. They went down the mountain at a swinging gait, and as they approached the bottom, Raymond’s mind reverted with longing to the subject of rabbit.
“Sid,” he suggested, “if you’ll hang back a little I’ll go on ahead and maybe I’ll see a rabbit as we near the cañon.”
“All right,” agreed Sidney. “You’d better give me your blankets; you don’t want to be bothered with them if you’re going to shoot.”
Raymond passed his blanket roll over to Sidney, who sat down on a rock to give his brother time to get ahead. The boy proceeded cautiously down the slope with his revolver held ready, but rabbits were, apparently, either very scarce or very shy, for none appeared. He stopped on the brink of the steeper descent just before the bottom, and after pausing to make an examination there, he turned and called out to Sidney in a disgusted tone,—