196 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CRUISER 
camp by throwing down our beds beside the road. 
After a snack of bread and butter and hot coffee 
we were glad to crawl into our blankets and forget 
our weariness in sudden sleep. 
Though we were just about played out that night 
it spoke well for our condition that there was hardly 
a limp or a stiffened muscle in camp next morning. 
The remaining twenty miles between us and Silver 
City, all on a fair road, we disposed of easily 
enough. 
At just one o’clock we entered town and swept 
down Main Street—bells ringing, packers halloing, 
and Babe in his gay attire stepping out in front like 
a tiny drum major. It was a gay cavaleade, if ever 
one existed. No wonder our entry created a stir in 
town, that we were followed to the Tenderfoot cor- 
ral, our destination, by the plaudits of the multitude 
and a swarm of small boys who, after the manner of 
their kind, sprang suddenly and miraculously from 
nowhere!’ 
