“There is no use for all this bunch going,” said Jim. “Jo, you and Tom and Jeems stay here. Keep my guns, I’m traveling light.” He handed over his rifle and revolver to his brother and Juarez gave his to Jeems. Then they gave the cinches to their saddles an extra tightening, especially the back cinches, then they swung swiftly into the saddles.
“Durn those mules,” they cried and were off. Keeping their horses well in hand, for it promised to be a long hard race, they galloped along the ridge, keeping slightly below the summit. They were now on the opposite side of the ridge from where the trail was up which they had traveled. As the two headers-off got under way the gravel flew back from their horses’ feet. At first the way was not very hard, but at the end of the first mile they came to a great field of broken rocks.
Here they had to slacken speed and find their way among great rocks, broken, and with many miniature canyons and ravines among them. Once they rode under the shadow of a great slab of quartz, some eighty feet long and twenty feet in thickness; like a long flat bridge it was.
“This is a sure interesting country,” remarked Juarez.
“I wish that we had time to look around a bit,” replied Jim, “but I am afraid that those pesky mules are gaining on us right here.”
“We are almost out of this nest of rocks,” encouraged Juarez.
This was true, but now they had ahead of them a long slope with many fallen trees, but the boys could not stop for such trifles. Away they went, leaping the trunks of trees, twisting this way and that, but never slackening speed. If it was not for their anxiety, it would have been fun for the two of them, as there was enough danger and variety to make it interesting. Jim’s big gray, which he had captured in Mexico and had named Caliente, jumped with great power and with remarkable lightness, considering his size, but Juarez’s roan was as quick as a cat and just as light on its feet.
“See that notch in the ridge,” cried Jim, “about half a mile ahead?”