After the death of the grizzly the animals had
gradually quieted down.
Ten minutes later, and the two saddle boys were slowly picking their
way along the gully, heading upward. Frank, as one born to the
country, and familiar with many of its peculiarities, amused himself by
pointing out to his comrade the various positive signs that as a rule
marked these strange water-courses.
"You see, Bob," he remarked, "this is really what might be called a
_barranca_."
"Yes, I've heard you tell about them before," observed the other.
"Most of the year it's only a dry ravine, with high walls; but once in
a while there happens to be a tremendous downpour of rain in the
mountains, when a heavy cloud breaks against the wall above. When that
comes about, this gully is going to be bank-full of roaring, rushing
water; and anything caught by the flood is apt to be battered and
bruised and drowned before it's swept out below."
"Whew!" observed Bob, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Let's hope then,
that the next cloud-burst will have the kindness to hold off till we
get out of this hole. If it caught us here, Frank, I reckon we'd just
have to let our nags shift for themselves, and take to climbing the
sides. And wouldn't I hate to lose Domino the worst way; even if he
does give me a raft of trouble at times?"
Frank patted the satiny flank of Buckskin affectionately, as he said:
"And it would just about break me up if anything happened to this
fellow, Bob.
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