The Trail 



Wallace s big sorrel plunged after him and the roll 

 ing stones cracked. Suffering as I was by this time, 

 with cramp in my legs, and torturing pain, I had to 

 choose between holding my horse in or falling off; 

 so I chose the former and accordingly got behind. 



Dead cedar and pinon trees lay everywhere, with 

 their contorted limbs reaching out like the arms of a 

 devil-fish. Stones blocked every opening. Making 

 the bottom of the ravine after what seemed an inter 

 minable time, I found the tracks of Jones and Wal 

 lace. A long &quot; Waa-hoo! &quot; drew me on; then the 

 mellow bay of a hound floated up the ravine. Satan 

 made up time in the sandy stream bed, but kept me 

 busily dodging overhanging branches. I became 

 aware, after a succession of efforts to keep from being 

 strung on pinons, that the sand before me was clean 

 and trackless. Hauling Satan up sharply, I waited 

 irresolutely and listened. Then from high up the 

 ravine side wafted down a medley of yelps and barks. 



&quot; Waa-hoo, waa-hoo ! &quot; ringing down the slope, 

 pealed against the cliff behind me, and sent the wild 

 echoes flying. 



Satan, of his own accord, headed up the incline. 

 Surprised at this, I gave him free rein. How he 

 did climb ! Not long did it take me to discover that 

 he picked out easier going than I had. Once I saw 

 Jones crossing a ledge far above me, and I yelled our 



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