“Not so bad as udder ones,” remarked Tally.
“Must we go down any of them?” asked Mr. Vernon.
“Mebbe we not find trail for two—four day, and grub mos’ gone,” returned Tally, meaningly.
“We’ve got to trust to Tally’s guidance, pards, so let us do exactly as he thinks best,” added Mr. Gilroy.
Feeling somewhat dubious about the outcome of this ride, the two Indians led down the steep sides of the gulch. The horses slipped, stumbled, and scrambled through the piled-up rubbish until it was a marvel that they had not broken legs and necks. The débris carried down by the streams that emptied into the torrents at the bottom of the draw, formed almost impassable barriers to going onward. But the day was breaking, and this cheered every one tremendously. Soon the darkness would be entirely dispelled and they could see just where the horses were stepping.
“I’m so hungry I could almost eat this leather harness,” remarked Anne, sighing.
“Maybe we might catch something for an early breakfast, if we knew where to give our horses a stand while we hunted,” said Ruth.
Then, suddenly, they heard a crash of branches and rolling rocks, and there, outlined against the pale sky, stood a giant elk with head erect and ears attentive to the sounds from these riders. It was the first one the scouts had seen, and it was such a magnificent animal that a sight of it was thrilling.
The elk waited with great antlers reared to their extreme height, long sensitive nose sniffing the air, and legs stiffened ready for a leap. The Captain drew the camera from a side-pocket of the saddle and planned to get a picture. But the wary animal heard the click of the shutter and sprang fully fifteen feet across the chasm to gain a ledge of rock that hung dangerously out.
Every one gasped as he waited to see it miss footing, or roll down with the crag that surely would topple over with such added weight upon it. But the elk must have known its trail, for it lightly touched upon the rock, then vanished over the rim of the top.