"Haw! I could keep this up all day. You need not consider me."
So they went on across the gently rolling grass land, past many a graceful thorp of pines and bluff of tremulous aspen, through meadow lands ablaze with big yellow daisies and swaying acres bright with golden rod. The air was rich with perfume from the woods, where unseen birds rang out ecstatic songs; canaries flaunted their gorgeous hues from branch to branch, and humming-birds whirring each like an emerald in his mist of wings over the blossoms of rich scented briar. Great gardens of wild roses mile by mile, steeped with intoxicating perfume, then cedars towering out of the dreamy heat, then of a sudden they entered a green twilight of forest, cool, still, mysterious, like some ghostly sea where coral red along the misty aisles great trees went up into a cloud of leaves. So the Blackguard drew rein as though it were irreverent to canter into church, and mile after mile the trail went upward into the shadow, steeper and steeper as they neared the hills.
Suddenly the green gloaming parted ahead, framing the blue haze of an abrupt mountain; then, as though out of some submarine cavern, the riders came into an open glade at the very base of the Selkirk range, where the afternoon sun half-blinded them. On either hand steep wooded heights shot up into mid-sky—between them a winding meadow barred just ahead with a great snake fence, save where there came forth a rumbling stream, milk-white because it had sprung full-grown from the mills of the gods—from the far-away glacier of the Throne.
The Blackguard let out a long "halloo," answered at once by a rifle shot; and the Tenderfoot was just in time to see a whiff of blue smoke against the big snake fence.
"Two cowboys in camp," explained the Blackguard as they rode forward; "they've made the fence to corrall old General Buster's bulls."
"Aw—a pretty rough lot, I suppose."
"Be civil, or they'll eat you," the Blackguard grinned; "they always shoot at sight unless you halloo their password. That's why I yelped. They're cannibals too. Have you much money on you? Well, it's too late to save it now—so hope for the best."
Thus prejudiced against the cowboys, Mr. Ramsay found their appearance displeasing. Both men wore blue shirts with large pearl buttons arranged in a shield pattern on the breast, and heavy leather "chaparejos" leggings, suspended from a revolver belt; one pair with leather fringes all down the outer seam, the other completely faced with the hairy black bearskin. Black Bear was a swarthy Mexican, ominously scowling, and adorned with large gold earrings; Leather, who answered to the uncouth name Arrapahoe Bill, was a lengthy hard fair sinner, whose tawny hair curled down well over his neck.
"Ho-la, the blackguard!" was Black Bear's greeting, followed by a torrent in guttural Spanish, while the horses were being rapidly unsaddled and turned loose to graze within the fence. As to Arrapahoe Bill, one glance at the Tenderfoot's baggy breeches reduced him to ominous silence.
"Well, Bill—how's tricks?" said the Blackguard afterwards, lying at ease before the tent, while he watched the Mexican's cookery of coffee and venison.