"I never pack without kyacks," said Hicks.
"So I see. Well, sit down and watch the rest of them. Ware!" Thorne shouted.
The prospector disengaged himself from the sprawling and distant group.
"Throw those things off, and empty out those bags," ordered Thorne. "Now, there's your camp outfit. Pack it, as fast as you can."
Ware set to work, also deliberately, it seemed. He threw a sling, packed on his articles, and over it all drew the diamond hitch.
"Reckon that'll travel," he observed, stepping back.
"Good pack," commended Thorne briefly, as he glanced at his watch. "Eleven minutes."
"Eleven minutes!" echoed Bob to California John, who sat near, "and the other man took thirty-five! Impossible! Ware didn't hurry any; he moved, if anything, slower than the other man."
"He didn't make no moves twice," pointed out California John. "He knows how. This no-kyack business is going to puzzle plenty of those boys who can do good, ordinary packing."
"It's near noon," Thorne was saying; "we haven't time for another of those duffers. I'll just call up your partner, Ware, and we'll knock off for dinner."