s road to us temporarily. I guess you'll have to
hoof it the rest of the way."

This was no great and unaccustomed hardship, and no one objected.

"How about our beds?" inquired some one.

This presented a difficulty. No Western camp of any description--lumber,
mining, railroad, cow--supplies the bedding for its men. Camp blankets
as dealt out in our old-time Northern logging camp are unknown. Each man
brings his own blankets, which he further augments with a pair of
quilts, a pillow and a heavy canvas. All his clothing and personal
belongings he tucks inside; the canvas he firmly lashes outside. Thus
instead of his "turkey"--or duffle-bag--he speaks of his "bed roll,"
and by that term means not only his sleeping equipment but often all his
worldly goods.

"Can't you unhitch your horses and pack them?" asked Bob.

"Sure," cried several mountaineers at once.

Welton chuckled.

"That sounds like it," he approved; "and remember, boys, you're all
innocent campers out to enjoy the wonders and beauties of nature."

The men made short work of the job. In a twinkling the horses were
unhitched from the vehicles. Six out of ten of these men were more or
less practised at throwing packing hitches, for your Californian brought
up in sight of mountains is often among them. Bob admired the dexterity
with which some of the mountaineers improvised slings and drew tight the
bulky and cumbersome packs. Within half an hour the long procession was
under way, a hundred men and fifty horses. They filed past California
John, who had drawn one side.

"Camping, boys?" he asked the leader.

The man nodded and passed on. California John sat at ease, his elbow on
the pommel, his hand on his chin, his blue eyes staring vacantly at the
silent procession filing before him. Star stood motionless, his head
high, his small ears pricked forward. The light dust peculiar to the
mountain soils of California, stirred by many feet, billowed and rolled
upward through the pines. Long rays of sunlight cut through it like
swords.

"Now did you ever see such utter damn foolishness?" growled Welton.
"Make that bunch walk all the way up that mountain! What on earth is the
difference whether they walk or ride?"

But Bob, examining closely the faded, old figure on the magnificent
horse, felt his mind vaguely troubled by another notion. He could not
seize the thought, but its influence was there. Somehow the irritation
and exasperation had gone from the