ff
wall about fifty feet out; between it and the wall was good level
ground, on the other side huge rocks and shale made it hummocky,
practically impassable for a horse. It was plain the mustangs, on their
way up, would choose the inside of the wash; and here in the middle of
the passage, just round the jutting corner, Jones tied our horses to
good, strong bushes. His next act was significant. He threw out his
lasso and, dragging every crook out of it, carefully recoiled it, and
hung it loose over the pommel of his saddle.

"The White Mustang may be yours before dark," he said with the smile
that came so seldom. "Now I placed our horses there for two reasons.
The mustangs won't see them till they're right on them. Then you'll see
a sight and have a chance for a great picture. They will halt; the
stallion will prance, whistle and snort for a fight, and then they'll
see the saddles and be off. We'll hide across the wash, down a little
way, and at the right time we'll shout and yell to drive them up."

By piling sagebrush round a stone, we made a hiding-place. Jones was
extremely cautious to arrange the bunches in natural positions. "A
Rocky Mountain Big Horn is the only four-footed beast," he said, "that
has a better eye than a wild horse. A cougar has an eye, too; he's used
to lying high up on the cliffs and looking down for his quarry so as to
stalk it at night; but even a cougar has to take second to a mustang
when it comes to sight."

The hours passed slowly. The sun baked us; the stones were too hot to
touch; flies buzzed behind our ears; tarantulas peeped at us from
holes. The afternoon slowly waned.

At dark we returned to where we had left Wallace and the cowboys. Frank
had solved the problem of water supply, for he had found a little
spring trickling from a cliff, which, by skillful management, produced
enough drink for the horses. We had packed our water for camp use.

"You take the first watch to-night," said Jones to me after supper.
"The mustangs might try to slip by our fire in the night and we must
keep a watch or them. Call Wallace when your time's up. Now, fellows,
roll in."

When the pink of dawn was shading white, we were at our posts. A long,
hot day--interminably long, deadening to the keenest interest--passed,
and still no mustangs came. We slept and watched again, in the grateful
cool of night, till the third day broke.

The hours passed; the cool breeze changed to hot; the sun blazed over