the sun, and was pleased to
discover that the instinct of direction I had been subtly prompted to
take, would have helped me as much as the sun.

We faced east and walked fast, and I took note of trees ahead so that
we should not get off a straight line. At last we came to a deep canyon.
In the gray misty rain I could not be sure I recognized it. "Well,
R.C.," I said, "this may be our canyon, and it may not. But to make sure
we'll follow it up to the rim. Then we can locate camp." R.C. replied
with weary disdain. "All right, my redskin brother, lead me to camp. As
Loren says, I'm starved to death." Loren is my three-year-old boy, who
bids fair to be like his brother Romer. He has an enormous appetite and
before meal times he complains bitterly: "I'm starv-ved to death!" How
strange to remember him while I was lost in the forest!

When we had descended into the canyon rain was falling more heavily. We
were in for it. But I determined we would not be kept out all night. So
I struck forward with long stride.

In half an hour we came to where the canyon forked. I deliberated a
moment. Not one familiar landmark could I descry, from which fact I
decided we had better take to the left-hand fork. Grass and leaves
appeared almost as wet as running water. Soon we were soaked to the
skin. After two miles the canyon narrowed and thickened, so that
traveling grew more and more laborsome. It must have been four miles
from its mouth to where it headed up near the rim. Once out of it we
found ourselves on familiar ground, about five miles from camp.
Exhausted and wet and nearly frozen we reached camp just before dark. If
I had taken the right-hand fork of the canyon, which was really Beaver
Dam Canyon, we would have gotten back to camp in short order. R.C. said
to the boys: "Well, Doc dragged me nine miles out of our way." Everybody
but the Jap enjoyed my discomfiture. Takahashi said in his imperfect
English: "Go get on more better dry clothes. Soon hot supper. Maybe good
yes!"

V

It rained the following day, making a good excuse to stay in camp and
rest beside the little tent-stove. And the next morning I started out on
foot with Copple. We went down Beaver Dam Canyon intending to go up on
the ridge where R.C. and I had seen the flock of turkeys.

I considered Copple an addition to my long list of outdoor acquaintances
in the west, and believed him a worthy partner for Nielsen. Copple was
born near Oak Creek, some twenty mi