“He means ten rubles, Sid,” said Raymond. “That’s dirt cheap.”
“It certainly is, and I guess we’d better take it.” Whereupon Sidney nodded in affirmation and took out his purse for the money. “I hope I’ve got enough here without going down under my clothes.”
“If you haven’t, I have a few rubles in my purse.”
“Yes, I have exactly ten rubles. When we’re out on the trail, Ray, you must remind me to take some more money from my secret stock.”
“Now I’ll take your cloak, Sid,” said Raymond, “and carry it with my cloak and blanket. Then you take the rug with your blanket, and that will be about even. Gee! won’t mother be pleased with that rug! And you certainly are a peach, Sid, with sign language.”
“I feel silly as can be when I try to talk without saying anything. I wish we were in Mexico, or some other place where we could use Spanish.”
When the boys started out they were obliged to drop down to the bottom of the cañon again to pick up the trail. Then began the really difficult part of their mountain journey. For several days they climbed steep slopes by endless zigzags, or trod the edges of dizzy precipices. The cañons were deep, dark, and narrow, and occurred one right after another, with no intervening level ground. The boys were always either straining forward to toil up a precipitous ascent, or holding back to keep from pitching down another. And always when they opened their bed under some sheltering rock they were at a higher elevation than on the previous night. That meant, as a general thing, that each camp was colder than the preceding one.
The camps soon became very cold indeed, and the boys were obliged each night to seek a spot that was protected from the biting winds that raced and surged from the crests above. As soon as the sun was gone, the cold air descended from the summits to take the place of the layers that rose from the rocks which had been warmed during the day.
The lower portions of the range had been destitute of trees, but between that section and the heights that were above the timber line was a zone where a little timber grew. When the boys reached that belt they also ran into clouds and drizzling mists.
One day the weather had been threatening and damp, but not actually raining. Toward night, however, the clouds thickened and descended in genuine rain. The boys saw that they would soon be soaked through, their beds as well as their clothes. That would mean a night of misery, so they hunted for a spot that was sheltered from the storm. Fortune smiled on them, for almost immediately Sidney, who had gone a little to one side of the trail to examine a ledge of rocks for possible shelter, called out to his brother,—