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ed him every hour-----" "And a half," added Ned. The roar of the river became louder as they descended. Now they were obliged to raise their voices to make themselves heard. The Professor was toiling and sweating, but making no complaint of the hardships. He was plucky, as game as any of those hardy boys for whom he was the companion, and they knew it. "Hold on here!" cried Stacy, halting. All turned to see what was wrong. "I want to know---I want to know before I take another step." "Well, what do you want to know?" demanded Tad. "If it's all this trouble to climb down, I want to know how in the name of Bright Angel Trail we're ever going to be able to climb up again!" "Fall up, of course," flung back the guide. "You said this was mountain climbing backwards. It'll be that way going back," chuckled the guide. "And I so delicate!" muttered the lad, gazing up the hundreds of feet of almost sheer precipice. But ere the Pony Rider Boys scaled those rocks again they would pass through some experiences that were far from pleasurable ones. CHAPTER IX CHUNKY WANTS TO GO HOME Instead of a half hour, as had been prophesied, a full hour elapsed before they reached the bottom of the trail that was practically no trail at all. Tad was sure that the guide couldn't find his way back over the same ground, or rather rock, to save his life, for the boy could find nothing that looked as if the foot of man had ever trodden upon it before. He doubted if any one had been over that particular trail from the Garden on. As a matter of fact, Dad had led them into new fields. But at last they stood upon the surer foundation of the bottom of the chasm. "Anyone needs to be a mountain goat to take that journey," said Tad, with a laugh. "No, a bird would be better," piped Stacy. "I'd rather be a bug, then I wouldn't have to climb," spoke up Walter. "Hurrah! Walt's said something," shouted Ned. By this time Nance and the Professor had walked along, climbing over boulders, great blocks of stone that had tumbled from the walls above, making their way to the edge of the river. The others followed, talking together at the tops of their voices, laughing and joking. They felt relieved that the terrible climb had come to an end. As they approached the river, their voices died away. It was a sublime but terrifying spectacle that the Pony Rider Boys gazed upon. "This is more wonderful than Niag
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