90 Life of a Fossil Hunter 



I followed suit. So, by a series of leaps, we crossed 

 the ten-mile stretch and drew up at the head of a 

 gorge, from which we could see Cow Island. 



Cope eagerly scanned the lights of the little sta- 

 tion, and finally decided that a new set had been 

 added to those of the soldiers' tents. He was sure 

 that the long-expected steamer lay at her snubbing- 

 post, and declared emphatically that we must reach 

 Cow Island that night. 



I knew the uselessness of trying to combat his 

 iron will, but I pleaded with him against the folly 

 of attempting to thread in the darkness those black 

 and treacherous defiles, where a single misstep 

 meant certain death. I begged him to wait until 

 daylight. We were, to be sure, hungry and thirsty, 

 and food, water, and shelter were to be had only at 

 the river, but sleeping in our saddle blankets with- 

 out supper was, I urged, preferable to running the 

 risk of being dashed to pieces. 



He paid no attention to what I said, but dismount- 

 ing, led his horse into the canyon. He had to cut a 

 stick to shove in front of him, as his eyes could not 

 penetrate the darkness a single inch ahead. I cut 

 another to punch along his horse, which did not 

 want to follow him. 



Sometimes when we had climbed down several 

 hundred feet, the end of the Professor's stick would 

 encounter only air, and a handful of stones thrown 



