Crack! crack! Both rifles were discharged almost at the same instant; but while the antlered buck gave a great bound, and then fell motionless upon the grass, his two pretty companions sprang away unhurt.
"I aimed too high," said Murray. "I must lower my sights a little."
"I've got him," exclaimed Steve, "gold mine and all. But he'll be a big load to carry to camp."
They found him so. They were compelled to take more than one breathing-spell before they reached the head of the ravine, and there they took a long one, right on the gold-bearing ledge.
"Splendid pair of horns he has—" began Murray, but Steve interrupted him with,
"That's it! That's the name of this mine, when I come for it."
"What's that, Steve?"
"It's the Buckhorn Mine. They always give them a name."
"That'll do as well as any. The ledge'll stay here till you come for it. Nobody around here is likely to steal it away from you. But there's more ledge than mine just now."
So there was, and Steve's countenance fell a little as he and Murray again took up their burden and began to toil under it from "stair to stair" down the rocky terraces of the grand chasm.