The tortuous trail often led to the edge of a precipice, where the slightest misstep of his pony would have hurled both beast and rider into a frightful abyss. At other times the narrow pathway meandered serpentine fashion between pine trees so thickly interspersed that the pack would wedge first on one side and then the other, to the imminent destruction of Jack's belongings.
[CHAPTER VI.]
THE RANCH ON THE TROUBLESOME.
It was pitch dark when Jack rode into the corral at the ranch on the Troublesome. After unpacking and storing his trappings he went over to the ranch house. Several Ute ponies were in the corral. Their presence puzzled him, and as he entered the log house what was his surprise to find himself in the presence of Colorow, Bennett and Antelope. Old Tracy, the owner of the ranch, greeted the newcomer with a merry "How—how—well, beat my brains out with a straw ef I tho't of a-seeing you afore spring."
Bill, the fiery red-whiskered, red-haired, red-faced, stuttering Irishman, ejaculated, after a good deal of effort, "D—d—d—durn my p—p—p—pictures! G—g—g—glad t—t—t—to see yer." The obese, low-browed renegade Colorow looked inquiringly. So did the other Indians as Jack replied to both ranchmen:
"I left Rock Creek yesterday morning and crossed the Gore range today. The snow was pretty deep in spots."
Colorow's eyes glittered as it dawned on him that the white man Jack of Rock Creek and this man were one and the same. Jack did not know any of the trio except Bennett, neither of the others having openly visited the camp below. As Bennett rose up from the floor with a greeting he turned and waved his hand:
"This Antelope, this Colorow."
Jack involuntarily stepped back a pace, halfway starting his hand as if to grasp his six-shooter. Colorow saw the motion as well as the swift, penetrating flash that shot from Jack's gray eyes into the very soul of the old red devil. But the warrior never made a hostile movement. The least perceptible smile crept into his face as he interpreted the telegraphic glance. He realized that Jack guessed for a certainty what Bennett and Antelope might guess, for Colorow had never told any of the Utes that he actually followed Jack, nor that he waited in vain at the mouth of the long gulch for that worthy young man to walk to his death. It was with mock cordiality that the two men acknowledged each other's presence, but not so with Antelope, who rose and grasped Jack's outstretched hand. Antelope and Bennett did guess right. The ranchmen had seen the little exchange of "symptoms" and were at loss to understand the purport thereof. Nevertheless, they had in an instant, yet seemingly in a careless manner, lessened the distance between the right hand and the butt end of their respective six-shooters, for the frontiersman is keen to scent danger. Colorow remained in his chair and thus addressed Jack:
"Sabe white man Rock Creek trail?"