CHAPTER II.
he following day we were delayed so that we did not begin our journey until three o'clock. When we drove away, as long as we were in sight of the post, Frank and Henry looked back at Vic, who was straining at a cord which held her to a hinge of the great gates, uttering dismal canine lamentations at being left. The pleasure of their excursion seemed to be marred at the outset by the absence of their constant companion and pet.
At the time of which I write there were but two wagon roads out of Prescott—one through Fort Whipple to the northeast, and one to the north. We took the latter, pursuing it along the east side of Granite Range for eight miles, when we passed through a rugged notch in the range to Mint Creek, where the road made an acute angle, and followed a generally southerly direction to La Paz.
We halted for the night at the creek, fifteen miles from the fort. Our ambulance was provided with four seats—one in front for the driver, fixed front and rear seats in the interior, with a movable middle seat, the back of which could be let down so that it fitted the interval between the others, and afforded a comfortable bed. On the rack behind were carried the bedding, provisions, ammunition, and cooking utensils, and beneath the hind axle swung a ten-gallon keg.
While supper was being prepared the boys wandered about the camping-place in search of the mint which gave the creek its name, and in a fruitless hunt for some ducks they had seen settle in the reeds. Clary called them to supper, and they joined me around a blanket where our soldier meal was spread. While we were sugaring and stirring our coffee the cook stood by the fire holding two long rods in his hands, upon the ends of which were slices of bacon broiling before the glowing coals. Suddenly he exclaimed:
"Look there, b'ys!—look there!" raising and pointing with both sticks and the rashers of bacon toward the cane grass behind us.
There in its very edge sat Vic, winking her eyes and twitching her ears deprecatingly, plainly in doubt as to her reception.
"Stop, boys! Keep quiet!" I said, to prevent a movement in her direction. "Vic, you bad girl, how dared you follow me?"
No reply; only a slow closing and opening of the eyes, and an accompanying forward and backward movement of the ears.