He is a boy not more than seventeen years of age, seated on a fossil tree trunk that, turned into jasper, resembles a huge stick of red sealing-wax, and he is gazing with despairing eyes at the terrors by which he is surrounded. Beside him, with drooping head, stands a clean-limbed pony, bridled and saddled. A rifle, a roll of blankets, a picket-rope, and a canteen are attached to the saddle, and one of the boy's arms is slipped through the bridle-rein. He is clad in a gray flannel shirt, a pair of blue army trousers that are protected to the knees by fringed buck-skin leggings, a broad-brimmed white sombrero, and well-worn walking-shoes. A silk handkerchief is loosely knotted about his neck, and a belt of cartridges, from which also depends a hunting-knife, is buckled about his waist.
The lad's name is Todd Chalmers, his home is in Baltimore, and on the day before our introduction to him he was a member of a well-equipped scientific expedition that was traversing the valley of the Colorado Chiquito in the interests of a great Eastern college. Mortimer Chalmers, Todd's elder and only brother, and a distinguished geologist, is in charge of the expedition. Our lad, who is an honest, well-meaning fellow, but of an adventurous disposition and extremely impatient of control, had never been West until now, and only by persistent effort had he induced his brother to allow him to accompany his exploring party and remain with it during the long summer vacation. Three-fourths of the journey to their point of destination had been made by rail, and only ten days have elapsed since the party left the cars at Holbrook, where they purchased an equipment of pack and saddle animals. From there they set forth on their independent progress into the wild regions of the Colorado Chiquito, whose valley bounds the Painted Desert on the south.
For a few days, or until the first novelty of this new life wore off, all went well with Todd, who proved obedient to orders and attentive to the duties devolving upon him. Then came trouble. One of the party left camp on a private hunting expedition, became lost, and was only found after a long delay and much organized searching. To provide against further accidents of a similar nature, Mortimer Chalmers ordered that thereafter no member of the party should stroll alone more than one hundred yards from camp, or from the pack-train when it was in motion, without receiving permission from him.
Now Todd was passionately fond of hunting, and, as already stated, was impatient of restraint. He had anticipated unrestricted opportunities for indulging in his favorite sport on this expedition. At the same time not being a paid member of the party he did not feel bound in quite the same way as the others to obey the orders of one whom he regarded with the familiarity of a brother rather than with the respect due one in authority. Therefore the order regarding hunting had hardly been issued before he disobeyed it by galloping half a mile from the pack-train in pursuit of a jack-rabbit, which he finally got, and with which he returned in triumph.
In answer to his brother's query why he had thus disobeyed orders, the boy replied that he did not suppose that particular order applied to him, and that at any rate he was perfectly well able to take care of himself.
"Do you mean, Todd, that you intend to continue in your disobedience of orders?" asked the chief of party, sternly.
"Certainly not, when they are reasonable," answered the lad, flushing at the other's tone. "But you know, Mort, I came out here especially for the hunting, and it does seem rather hard—"
"No matter how it seems," interrupted the other. "I asked you if you intended to continue in your disobedience of my orders."
"And I gave you my answer," replied Todd.
"Which means that you propose to pass your own judgment on them, and then obey them or not, as seems to you best?"