There was less sand, and we made better progress. The
country was but little settled, and game was more plentiful. We got
two or three grouse. We went into camp at night by the head of
what appeared to be a large canyon, under a tempest-tossed old
pine-tree, through which the wind constantly sighed. There was no
water, but we counted on getting it down the canyon. A man went by
on horseback, driving some cattle, who told us that we could find a
spring down about half a mile.
"Can we get any hay down there?" I asked him. "We're out of feed
for the horses, and the grass seems pretty poor here."
"Down a mile beyond the spring I have a dozen stacks," answered the
man, "and you're welcome to all you can bring up on your pony.
Just go down and help yourselves."
We thanked him and he went on. As soon as we could we started
down. It was beginning to get dark, and grew darker rapidly as we
went down the ravine, as its sides were high and the trees soon
became numerous. There was no road, nothing but a mere
cattle-path, steep and stony in many places.
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