AMONG THE MOUNTAINS 33 



Barrett was later killed in a duel, but Peterson 

 still lives in the neighborhood of St. Johns. 



Previous to this encounter Barrett, a fearless 

 gun fighter, received warning that one of the 

 Smiths would shoot him on sight. A few days 

 later at a turn of the trail he came face to face 

 with two of the Smiths, one the man that had 

 sent him the warning. They drew their horses 

 up a few yards apart. 



"Well," said Smith, "I suppose you got my 

 message?" 



"I did," replied Barrett, "and here I am. 

 Now if you gents want to shoot, go ahead. May- 

 be two of you can get me, but I'll sure get one 

 of you " 



Barrett had a reputation for quick and accu- 

 rate work with his six-shooter and the Smiths 

 knew it. 



"Hell!" exclaimed the man that had sent the 

 challenge, and they rode on. 



One of our night camps was on the head- 

 waters of the Little Colorado River, clear, cold, 

 and alive with jumping trout. The traveler who 

 has seen this stream winding its way across the 

 Navajo desert, thick with mud and so foul 

 horses will not drink its waters, would scarcely 

 believe it a pure and beautiful stream at its 

 source. But like all the streams rising in 



