"Here will be a good place to camp," suggested Tom.
It was the mouth of a small canyon with a growth of pines and cottonwoods intermingled, and a clear stream tinkling down over the rocks.
"No," said the captain, shaking his grey head. "It looks pretty and would be very comfortable, but it isn't safe to make an open camp like that in this county. We will look higher up."
So we rode up the canyon for several miles until we found a more lonely and sheltered place.
"This appears all right, captain," said Jim. "At least for to-night."
"Yes, it will do nicely," he replied, "and there won't be much chance for a surprise."
So we spurred our horses up the rocky side of the canyon over granite boulders until we came to a comparatively level place, where was a growth of pines.
Back of us was the sheer wall of the canyon and below us for two hundred feet or more the steep slope covered with granite boulders, large and small.
It did not take us long to make camp, for we were experienced mountaineers by this time.
We soon had the stuff off from our two Indian pack horses and the fire was started for supper.