I started; but it was only the Virginian behind me. “Oh, nothing. The air is getting colder up here.”
I had presently a great relief. We came to a place where again this trail mounted so abruptly that we once more got off to lead our horses. So likewise had our predecessors done; and as I watched the two different sets of footprints, I observed something and hastened to speak of it.
“One man is much heavier than the other.”
“I was hoping I'd not have to tell you that,” said the Virginian.
“You're always ahead of me! Well, still my education is progressing.”
“Why, yes. You'll equal an Injun if you keep on.”
It was good to be facetious; and I smiled to myself as I trudged upward. We came off the steep place, leaving the canyon beneath us, and took to horseback. And as we proceeded over the final gentle slant up to the rim of the great basin that was set among the peaks, the Virginian was jocular once more.
“Pounds has got on,” said he, “and Ounces is walking.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him, and he nodded as he fixed the weather-beaten crimson handkerchief round his neck. Then he threw a stone at a pack animal that was delaying on the trail. “Damn your buckskin hide,” he drawled. “You can view the scenery from the top.”
He was so natural, sitting loose in the saddle, and cursing in his gentle voice, that I laughed to think what visions I had been harboring. The two dead men riding one horse through the mountains vanished, and I came back to every day.