A RECORD KUN 67 



The country was typical of the locality rough, 

 brushy and precipitous. Four to six forties out 

 made a good average run. 



As I left for my station Frazer called jokingly: 



" Looks like you've got the post of honour to-day! 

 You ought to get some mean going. Get out as far 

 as you can, but don't overdo it!" 



In my cocky mood this sounded very much like a 

 challenge to performance and I started out with the 

 firm intention of reaching the edge of timber if it 

 extended ten miles. As a matter of fact it was three 

 miles twelve forties before the pine petered out 

 and the woodland type began to appear. To get that 

 far I had dropped from 9,000 to 6,800 feet altitude, 

 and crossed several exceedingly steep ridges which 

 bounded the side canyons draining into Tierra 

 Blanca Canyon some thirty chains north. 



When I finally surmounted the last ridge and saw 

 nothing beyond but scrubby pinon and juniper, it 

 was just noon. The sun seemed hotter than usual. 

 As I glanced at the aneroid and saw the three thou- 

 sand foot change in elevation the reason for the in- 

 crease of temperature was evident. My canteen 

 was dry and I decided to postpone lunch till later, 

 on the chance of striking water coming back. I felt 

 comparatively fresh, so that while the prospect of 

 the uphill climb home was not at all attractive, I had 

 no special misgivings as I began the return trip. 



The first mile in was about as exasperating work 

 as could be imagined. I was running high up on 



