124 
CAVE AND CLIFF DWELLERS. 
coming out almost dry now ran noisy, 
muddy waters up to the horses’ middle, 
and in some places halfway up their sides. 
Thus we kept along for an hour or so, 
wet to the skin, and even under the skin, 
cholla cactus burs sticking to us until we 
looked like sheep. About two o’clock 
we heard loud shouts, and away we tore 
through cactus spines and shrubby thorns, 
for it was a sign there were peccaries 
ahead. Indeed they were ahead, and we 
chased them for eight miles. The ground 
was slippery, and the unshod ponies went 
sliding around over it like cats on ice 
with clam shells tied to their feet. I 
weighed 265 pounds, and my small pony 
not over two or three times as much, and 
how he kept up with the others, swing¬ 
ing through choyallas and around thick 
mesquite brush is yet a mystery. 
