206 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 



mense cigar, was seated in readiness, his legs 

 resting on the splash-board. Without removing 

 the cigar from his mouth, he drawled out, ' Say, 

 Cap'en, guess you'd better hurry up if you mean 

 making the ranch before sundown. Bet your 

 pants this child ain't agwine that road in the dark 

 nohow.' ' What's to happen?' I mildly enquired. 

 ' Happen ! Wai, maybe upset ; maybe chawed 

 up by a grisly ; maybe cleaned slick out by the 

 greasers. You'd better believe a man has to 

 keep his eye skinned in the daytime; so hurry 

 up, Cap.' Without further parley I scrambled 

 in, and away we went. 



Our road lay over broad plains and through 

 occasional belts of timber; deep, gravelly ar- 

 royos, in and out of which we dashed with a 

 plunging scramble, marked the course of the 

 floods. Everything was steaming hot ; the baked 

 ground reflected back the scorching sun-rays, 

 until the atmosphere quivered as one sees it over 

 a limekiln ; the mustangs in a fog of perspira- 

 tion ; the Jehu, denuded of coat and vest, con- 

 tinually yelled ' A git along,' with a rein in each 

 hand, steering rather than driving, was red-hot in 

 body and temper. But this was nothing to my 

 state of broil. Exposed to a temperature that 

 would have made one perspire sitting in the 



