shafts of glory to make a very paradise of color. Down by the riverside
the willows were hesitating between green and bronze. Russet and brown
and red peppered the slopes, but shades of yellow predominated in the
gulch itself.

The angler ate his sandwiches leisurely, and stretched his lithe body
luxuriantly on the ground for a _siesta_. When he resumed his occupation
the sun had considerably declined from the meridian. The fish were again
biting, and he landed two in as many minutes.

The bed of the river had been growing steeper, and at the upper entrance
of the little park he came to the first waterfall he had seen. Above
this, on the opposite side, was a hole that looked inviting. He decided
that a dead tree lying across the river would, at a pinch, serve for a
bridge, and he ventured upon it. Beneath his feet the rotting bark gave
way. He found himself falling, tried desperately to balance himself, and
plunged head first into the river.

Coming to the surface, he caught at a rock which jutted from the
channel. At this point the water was deep and the current swift. Were he
to let loose of the boulder he must be swept over the fall before he
could reach the shore. Nor could he long maintain his position against
the rush of the ice-cold waters fresh from the mountain snow fields.

He had almost made up his mind to take his chances with the fall, when a
clear cry came ringing to him:

"_No suelte!_"

A figure was flying down the slope toward him--the slim, graceful form
of a woman. As she ran she caught up a stick from the ground. This she
held out to him from the bank.

He shook his head.

"I would only drag you in."

She put her fingers to her mouth and gave a clear whistle. Far up on the
slope a pony lifted its head and nickered. Again her whistle shrilled,
and the bronco trotted down toward her.

"Can you hold on?" she asked in English.

He was chilled to the marrow, but he answered quietly: "I reckon."

She was gone, swift-footed as a deer, to meet the descending animal. He
saw her swing to the saddle and lean over it as the pace quickened to a
gallop.

He did not know her fingers were busy preparing the rawhide lariat that
depended from the side of the saddle. On the very bank she brought up
with a jerk that dragged her mount together, and at the same moment
slipped to the ground.

Running open the noose of the lariat, she dropped it surely over his
shoulders. The other end of the rope was fa