we'll go down there, and I reckon
we'll get a black-tailed deer."

But Reynal's predictions were not verified. We passed mountain after
mountain, and valley after valley; we explored deep ravines; yet still
to my companion's vexation and evident surprise, no game could be found.
So, in the absence of better, we resolved to go out on the plains and
look for an antelope. With this view we began to pass down a narrow
valley, the bottom of which was covered with the stiff wild-sage
bushes and marked with deep paths, made by the buffalo, who, for some
inexplicable reason, are accustomed to penetrate, in their long grave
processions, deep among the gorges of these sterile mountains.

Reynal's eye was ranging incessantly among the rocks and along the edges
of the black precipices, in hopes of discovering the mountain sheep
peering down upon us in fancied security from that giddy elevation.
Nothing was visible for some time. At length we both detected something
in motion near the foot of one of the mountains, and in a moment
afterward a black-tailed deer, with his spreading antlers, stood gazing
at us from the top of a rock, and then, slowly turning away, disappeared
behind it. In an instant Reynal was out of his saddle, and running
toward the spot. I, being too weak to follow, sat holding his horse and
waiting the result. I lost sight of him, then heard the report of his
rifle, deadened among the rocks, and finally saw him reappear, with a
surly look that plainly betrayed his ill success. Again we moved forward
down the long valley, when soon after we came full upon what seemed a
wide and very shallow ditch, incrusted at the bottom with white clay,
dried and cracked in the sun. Under this fair outside, Reynal's eye
detected the signs of lurking mischief. He called me to stop, and then
alighting, picked up a stone and threw it into the ditch. To my utter
amazement it fell with a dull splash, breaking at once through the thin
crust, and spattering round the hole a yellowish creamy fluid, into
which it sank and disappeared. A stick, five or six feet long lay on the
ground, and with this we sounded the insidious abyss close to its edge.
It was just possible to touch the bottom. Places like this are numerous
among the Rocky Mountains. The buffalo, in his blind and heedless walk,
often plunges into them unawares. Down he sinks; one snort of terror,
one convulsive struggle, and the slime calmly flows above his shaggy
head, the lang