On to the Siwash 



tion, whether or not he had any real human feeling 

 for the creatures built in his own image, that was 

 decided very soon and unexpectedly. 



The following morning, as soon as Lawson got in 

 with the horses, we packed and started. Rather 

 sorry was I to bid good-by to Oak Spring. Taking 

 the back trail of the Stewarts, we walked the horses 

 all day up a slowly narrowing, ascending canon. The 

 hounds crossed coyote and deer trails continually, but 

 made no break. Sounder looked up as if to say he 

 associated painful reminiscences with certain kinds 

 of ^cks. At the head of the canon we reached 

 Limber at about the time dusk gathered, and we 

 located ^or the night. Being once again nearly nine 

 thousand feet high, we found the air bitterly cold, 

 making a blazing fire most acceptable. 



In the haste to get supper we all took a hand, and 

 some one threw upon our tarpaulin tablecloth a tin 

 cup of butter mixed with carbolic acid a concoction 

 Jones had used to bathe the sore feet of the dogs. 

 Of course I got hold of this, spread a generous por 

 tion on my hot biscuit, placed some red-hot beans on 

 that, and began to eat like a hungry hunter. At first 

 I thought I was only burned. Then I recognized 

 the taste and burn of the acid and knew something 

 was wrong. Picking up the tin, I examined it, 

 smelled the pungent odor, and felt a queer, numb 



199 



