"Do you have such awful storms as early as September?" asked Hazel.
"SHE LAY TO REST," ON HER BOULDER BED.
"Sometimes the first winter blizzards are pretty rough up here; generally get a starter any time after the middle of September," answered another guide.
"We had better be moving," said Jack.
"One moment, please. Would you mind giving me a copy of those verses when we get to the ranch? I would like to show them to visitors," said the guide.
"Certainly, certainly; why, just take the prayer book. We will all put our names in here right now and you can keep it to remember us by," replied Jack.
The dragging of swollen feet, weary bodies and aching limbs back over that two miles of desolation was full of torture for all. The expected relief when the horses were reached proved but an additional multiplicity of aches, especially in the joints of the knees, where it seemed as though iron pins were crunching the very cavities of those valuable adjuncts to man's usefulness.
Hazel cried, Chiquita even complained, and poor Miss Asquith,—well, Cal had his hands full. He showed his frontier gallantry by picking her up and carrying her down one steep grade as though she were but an infant, and the episode did more to reinvigorate the dejected spirits of the entire party than anything that could have happened.