“Lucky thar wasn’t any placer-miners at work in this part o’ ther gulch,” remarked Blake. “Ef thar had been, they’d hev had little chance o’ escapin’ with their lives.”
“The flood never got very clost ter Sun Dance,” observed Tenny. “The old gulch is too much up an’ down; thar ain’t no decent river as would run through it.”
“I reckon Nuzhee Mona Lake is down some,” said Pete. “It couldn’t lose all thet water without feelin’ it. I’ve thought, fer a long time, thar’d be doin’s if anythin’ ever happened ter thet wedge o’ stone thet kept it out o’ the cañon. I don’t reckon all the wedge was blowed out, kase if the hull lake had spilled over it would make more of a showin’.”
“It made a big enough showin’ ter suit me,” said Tenny. “When I seen thet wall o’ water rushin’ at me, I went over my ‘Now I lay mes’ for’ard, back’ard, an’ sideways.”
“An’ scramble!” cried Pete; “gee, man, how us huskies scrambled fer thet gully. Oh, I reckon, arter all, thar was water enough.”
Half an hour later the horsemen filed down the cañon top toward the camp of Sun Dance.
“Last time I traveled this hyer road,” said Blake, “I didn’t know a thing about it.”
“An’ ye wouldn’t never hev knowed a thing about it if it hadn’t ’a’ been fer Dell Dauntless,” spoke up Tenny.
“As I said afore, an’ now say ag’in,” said Blake, turning in his saddle and removing his sombrero—a new one, recently purchased at the place where he had secured his six-shooters—“I take off my hat to Dell Dauntless.”
“We all do that,” added Wild Bill, “and likewise to Wah-coo-tah.”