"I'll make a note of it," laughed Dave.
"Whoever is goin' after the commissary department had better drag himself down the hill," remarked Jack, as he slipped from his seat behind Dick Travers.
"I'll go with Tim," announced the latter.
"You chaps almost deserve near-hero medals," chuckled Dave, an expression of intense relief crossing his round face. "Look out for yourselves. Yes; we'll have a fire going by the time you get back. So-long!"
"Or longer," murmured Tim. "Whoop! We may have a fine chase."
"Git up!" shouted Dick.
The two cantered swiftly off. Dick stopped an instant to pick up the canteen.
For a long distance the way led through high, bunchy grass which seemed to undulate like waves of the sea as the breeze swept up from the valley. Gradually the descent grew steeper and more difficult. Ridges, innocent-looking from above, became on closer inspection difficult passes choked with vegetation and rocks.
The cliff's frowning heights rose higher and higher above them. In the shadow of its gigantic crags they reined up for a moment to rest their tired bronchos.
"Great sight!" said Tim, looking up.