That meant that the cold water of one mountain stream was just about as pleasant to drink as that of another.
Bill and his two comrades were not the men to grumble over a piece of necessary duty like that, and they knew it was "their turn."
The sun was well up before they reached the head of the gap, and a glance showed them that it was all the hunters had prophesied of it. It was in fact a sort of natural highway from that table-land down to the valleys and plains of Arizona.
"This'll do first rate," said Bill, "only I'd like to know what thar is at the lower end of it."
"That's what we're gwine to look for. If ever we come back to work that mine, Bill, what ranches we can lay out on that level beyond the ruins!"
"Best kind. Raise 'most anything up thar."
No doubt of it, but now for some hours their minds and eyes were busier with the pass before them than with either mines or farming.
"Not a sign yet, Bill, and we're getting well down. See them pines?"
"Off to the left?—Hullo! Put for the pines, boys. We'll nab those two. See 'em?"
"Coming right along up. All we've got to do is to 'bush our horses, and let 'em git past us."