ented Jim.

So we rode southward through the broken country, crossing ravines,
riding through the scrub oaks and keeping a wary eye on the plains
below.

We had gone about five miles, when I called a halt.

"What are those specks way off there on the plain?" I enquired.

Jim took a long look in the direction that I had indicated.

"I can see them move," he announced, "they are antelope, all right."

"How far do you think they are?" I asked.

"About four miles, I reckon," said Jim. "It looks perfectly level, how
in the mischief are we going to get within range?"

Jim studied the situation for a while carefully.

"There is a ravine that runs into a gully," he said, "that appears to be
a half a mile south of them, though it may be further."

"We'll try it," I said.

So we made our way carefully, keeping ourselves screened as much as
possible by the brush and rocks. Finally we struck the ravine without
being observed by the antelope.

We rode down this, until it became a deep, narrow gully. In some places
the way was difficult, especially where the gully had been terraced into
water falls.

Occasionally our horses seemed to be standing on their heads as they
jumped their way down, nimble as goats. We had to tighten the back
cinches to keep the saddles from sliding forward.

"Talk about circus riding," I cried after I had come near falling off
when Coyote had jumped down five feet, "this is plenty exciting enough
for me."

After a while the gully became less broken and broader, the bottom
covered with sand, and tall grasses growing wherever there was a
foothold.

It was hot in the gully as the breeze was shut off and the sun looked
down directly upon us. It was "snug" too, because we felt secure from
being seen by any wandering parties of Apaches.

After we had been riding for about a half hour, Jim stopped his horse
and dismounted, throwing the bridle over Piute's head. "I am going to
reconnoiter," he said.

I watched him as he cautiously climbed up the wall of the gully and
looked over the edge through a screen of grass. Almost instantly he
dropped down again.

He motioned for me to dismount and I swung off, throwing the bridle over
Coyote's head, the ends just trailing on the ground. This is the only
kind of hitching post that a broncho needs.

CHAPTER III

THE SURPRISE

"We are almost opposite them now," Jim announced.

We went down the gulch until we came to a little bench just bel