Expedition to the Bad Lands 89 



must have been at the time of the dinosaurs, when 

 the shale of these black-sided canyons was mud on 

 an ocean floor. So fascinated were we both by his 

 descriptions that the time flew by unheeded, and it 

 was afternoon before we reached the prairie south 

 of Cow Island. 



Upon arriving at the bit of bad lands, we sepa- 

 rated, agreeing to meet at four o'clock at the place 

 where we left the horses. I kept the appointment, 

 but the Professor was nowhere to be seen, and as 

 hour after hour passed with no sign of him, I began 

 to grow anxious. I knew the foolishness of trying 

 to find him in that network of gorges and ridges, 

 and could only wait, eagerly watching the outlets 

 of the labyrinth. 



Just as the sun was sinking behind the Rockies he 

 came out of a narrow ravine with the head of a large 

 mountain sheep on his back. He gave it to me to 

 carry behind my saddle, and with few words we 

 mounted and set off at full speed for home, remem- 

 bering the three men whom we had met on the 

 prairie at noon, who had been lost for three days 

 in the intricate passages of the Bad Lands. I did 

 not like to think of trying to find the way there after 

 night. 



The Professor dashed over the prairie without 

 once drawing rein, clearing bunches of cactus ten 

 feet, sometimes, in diameter, at a single bound ; and 



