To the mouth of the
canon where the branch sought junction with the parent stream they
could ascend, and no farther. And when Bill saw that he rolled himself
a cigarette, and, putting one long arm across his wife's shoulders,
said whimsically:
"What d'you say we start home?"
CHAPTER XXIII
THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL
Roaring Bill dumped his second pack on the summit of the Klappan, and
looked away to where the valley that opened out of the basin showed its
blurred hollow in the distance. But he uttered no useless regrets.
With horses they could have ridden south through a rolling country,
where every stretch of timber gave on a grass-grown level. Instead
they were forced back over the rugged route by which they had crossed
the range the summer before. Grub, bedding, furs, and gold totaled two
hundred pounds. On his sturdy shoulders Bill could pack half that
weight. For his wife the thing was a physical impossibility, even had
he permitted her to try. Hence every mile advanced meant that he
doubled the distance, relaying from one camp to the next. They cut
their bedding to a blanket apiece, and that was Hazel's load--all he
would allow her to carry.
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