d selected
two favorable spots which would afford reasonably good beds, one for
Chiquita and one for himself. Cutting away the willows up to the wall in
a narrow space just big enough for one to lie down, and forming a
mattress of others occupied but a little time. Meanwhile, Chiquita had
brought driftwood and dry sticks until an immense pile of fuel was in
readiness for the long night. The ponies were picketed, one on each side
of the camp and the third one close to the edge of the stream, forming a
guard past which no wild animal would attempt to go. It was now dark and
the ponies were foraging for buffalo grass, while Jack toasted some
bacon on a stick, made coffee in an old baked-bean can, which he had
thoughtfully tied to the pack-saddle, and toasted the frozen bread on a
hot rock. During the early dusk the mew of a plaintive camp bird gave
notice that that mountain sentinel was at hand, and the handsome
gray-coated camp follower would spread his black-tipped wings and fly
down to the edge of the fire, looking for crumbs and refuse of the
"kitchen." Chiquita gave him a few morsels, but there was little to
spare from the stock at hand.

After they had satisfied their hunger Jack and Chiquita settled
themselves for a long talk. It was the first opportunity that had been
presented since old Joe and Yamanatz interrupted them the Sunday before
after the six-course banquet Jack had given his eastern friends by
proxy.

The ponies tugged at their picket ropes, wandering around in search of
overlooked patches of grass. Occasionally a wolf howl mournfully
awakened the stillness of the gathering darkness, to be answered by
others of the same species, each animal in the common quest of something
to eat, and all probably attracted by the camp fire and its attendant
odors.

A first-quarter moon shed its cold, silvery light on the drama at the
base of the precipitous rock. The air was crisp and still. The splashing
stream dashing its burden along the confines of its narrow channel to
the Pacific Ocean was the orchestra, keeping in touch with the scene,
staged by no artificial hand and curtained by the star-spangled canopy
of night. The camp fire sent showers of sparks far aloft and its warmth
unloosened the tense-drawn muscles, every one of which had been called
upon to its utmost capacity in the battles that the weary travelers had
encountered with the snowdrifts. Jack lay stretched upon the sand by the
fire, while Chiquita