The horn for dinner sounded shortly after the master's return and, at the table, the girls were told of the visitor and her invitation to the dance, but no word of her form of departure was mentioned.

"It's lucky we have evening-dresses," remarked Barbara.

"Do folks dress up at these parties?" asked Eleanor.

"I should say we do!" declared Polly.

Mrs. Brewster and Anne were talking in low tones and did not hear the question and answer, so they did not explain what Polly meant by "dressing up."

The days intervening between the Tuesday and the Friday set down for the hop passed quickly. Polly and her mother washed and renovated the dotted swiss dress made for the school-commencement, and to Polly's delight Anne added a blue sash and hair ribbons.

Anne had a simple flowered-silk gown she proposed wearing. And the city girls had elaborate dresses—Barbara's very much in the latest mode and Eleanor's flounced and furbelowed, but modestly high in the neck as became a girl not yet "out."

Sary had bewailed her fate the day preceding the eventful one. Eleanor pacified her by presenting her with a net-lace collar to enliven her rusty black alpaca.

An early supper was planned, as the ride to Bear Forks school would take more than an hour, and every one wanted to be there for the grand march. For several hours before supper-time, Barbara locked herself in the bed-room and began her toilette. She dressed her hair, massaged, and rouged and penciled her eyebrows, until she quite tired herself out.

Eleanor and Anne rapped again and again for admission, but Barbara was obdurate about her right of possession. When she finally opened the door for her room-mates, they stared at her in amused surprise.

"Your hair looks all sizzly, Bob," said Eleanor.

"Oh, Bob, remove some of that carmine from your lips!" advised Anne.

"Why?" demanded Barbara.

"Too much of it, that's all!" giggled Eleanor.

But Anne and Eleanor had their own toilettes to make and paid no further attention to Barbara. She managed to remove some of the carmine, and pat down her hair, hot she could not do things as the French maid generally did them to add to her beauty. Feeling dissatisfied with her appearance made Barbara irritable, but she remained in the room criticizing everything the two other girls did or said. Then just before the horn sounded for supper, a knock came at the door.

"Come in!" called Anne, buttoning her white suede boots.

"'S onny me. Ah jes' wanta ast you-all ef it is right in city sassiety, fur a widder of six months' standin' t' go t' a party whar onny old frien's will be. Thar won't be no sky-larkin' er high-jinks, yo' know!"

Sary's anxious tone expressed her eagerness for a favorable reply to her query on widowhood. Eleanor looked at Anne to answer, so she took the initiative.

"Certainly, Sary—come right along and enjoy yourself."

Barbara was shocked. "The help's not going—surely!"

"Humph! Miss Halsey ast me afore she mentioned you-all!" snapped Sary, quite able to defend herself against Barbara's pride.

"Oh, Bob doesn't mean it that way, Sary," said Eleanor, giving her sister a backward kick for silence.

"Of course not! Bob means that your mourning might prevent your attending the dance. But seeing we are all old friends from ranches round about, it will be like meeting your family," added Anne, the pacifist.

"Wall, then, Ah'll go," sighed Sary, as if loath to join a merry throng. "But Ah hez t' have a smitch of somethin' like-ez-how Miss Bob hez fer her shoulders, cuz my neck's gettin' scrawny now."

Barbara had draped chiffon over her neck and dress, and at Sary's request, she turned angrily. "The very idea! This chiffon is two dollars a yard!"

"I've got the very thing you need, Sary. You can wear second mourning now, I suppose!" exclaimed Eleanor, sending a look at her sister.

She hurried to the closet and took a long flat box from the upper shelf. As she carried it over to Sary, Barbara stared.

"Eleanor Maynard! What are you giving her?"

"Something I never will need this summer, and Sary can use it very nicely to furbish up that black dress."

Sary was too excited to wait and open the box in her own room, so she tore off the paper at once. A lovely rainbow-tinted chiffon scarf lay revealed, the predominating colors being violet.

"Ah-h-h! Ah'm clean locoed, Miss Nolla! Not a soul'll ever know that rusty black alpacky is th' same dress Miss Pearson mourned her husband in fer five years before Ah got it given me!"

"What nonsense! As if that dainty scarf will hide your outlandish dress and mountainous figure!" came insultingly from Barbara.

But nothing could spoil the joy of possessing such a heavenly wisp of angel's robe as that scarf seemed to be to Sary. She was deaf to all else, as she tenderly hugged the box to her ample bosom and backed from the room.

When all were seated about the table, which was spread in the living room for that night, Mr. Brewster smiled at Polly in her gala attire. Anne looked sweet and lovely in her simple dress, but the host could not quite make out the style the city girls wore. He was not accustomed to boudoir gowns of filmy lace and thin silk, and he thought they were a new style of party dress. Had he known what Barbara proposed wearing, he would have asked her to remain at home.

As Sary passed the bread to Eleanor she leaned over and beamed: "Miss Nolla, Ah tried that on, an' you-all woulden' know me! Ah'm shore he'll pick me fer a lanciers! Mebbe that scarf'll give him spine enough to speak!"

"Sary, I know right well he will!" declared Eleanor, not dreaming the mischief she wrought in Sary's soul at that.

Sary pranced back to the kitchen, but her flighty thoughts were swinging corners in the quadrille with Jeb, and the fried potatoes were gracefully shot into the coal-scuttle as the pan was waved aloft in imitation of dancers she had envied in days gone by.

"Sary, hurry with the coffee-pot, please!" called Polly.

And Sary grabbed up the stone jug of vinegar from the back of the stove where she had placed it, and ran in to pour the beverage into cups. The combined cries of every one at the table failed to bring her to her senses, so Mrs. Brewster told her to go quickly and dress for the dance.

Then wagon wheels sounded on the gravel road and Jeb yelled: "Air you- all ready?"

Sary gave a last lingering look in the tiny mirror over her combination wash-stand, and realized what charms she had when rainbow chiffon adorned her person. She then snuffed out the tiny lamp-wick and hurried forth to meet her fate.

Jeb was dressed regardless of all censorship. A great flaming peony in his coat-lapel reflected its scarlet on his ruddy face. His tie was a riot of colors and detracted somewhat from his purple socks and tan shoes. He wore a figured near-silk vest won at an Oak Creek raffle, and large checked trousers said to be the latest fashion some years back, when he squandered his money on them. With his face scoured until it shone, and his hair greased so that it was plastered down neatly, Jeb felt he could woo and win the prettiest gal in the country-side. He forgot there was a "female widow" about.

The Brewster party reached the school-house later than was their wont, and the cloak-room was well-filled with ranchers' wives and daughters all waiting to pass judgment on the strangers from Pebbly Pit.

Mrs. Brewster and Polly entered first, shaking hands with friends and acquaintances. Anne followed smiling benignly on all. Barbara came next, casting disdainful looks at the ordinary women she found present. Eleanor delighted in the novel experience and was anxious to meet them all.

Once in the small room, the new-comers began to remove their dust-coats and wraps. The ranchers' parties then went out to make room. Barbara turned to Anne and whispered:

"Where can I find the maid?"

"Maid! We haven't one here, you know."

"No maid to help me? Goodness, what shall I do?"

"You're supposed to dress at home; besides, these people do not powder or rouge, so they need no mirror or maid, you see," explained Eleanor, taking delight in shocking Barbara.

"Then I suppose I will have to go out without a look at myself. Do I look all right to you, Anne?"

As she spoke, Barbara dropped her evening cloak from her shoulders and pivoted for Anne's benefit. Her gown of rose-pink net, trimmed with elaborate gold embroidery, was extremely decollete, with narrow gold bands over the shoulders performing the double duty as sleeves and to hold the lower section of the dress up in place!

Barbara turned slowly and attracted the attention of Mrs. Brewster, Polly, and a few strangers lagging behind to watch the visitors. Just then Sary hurried in from the dance-hall. She gasped at the sight before her and quickly came to the rescue.

"Shet yer eyes—every one! The poor dear! Ah'll cover her up whiles some one finds her basque!" And Sary caught up Mrs. Halsey's jet- trimmed cape and wound it quickly about Barbara's bare neck and shoulders.

"Child, how come yuh t' fergit the basque? Er what hez happened to it?" cried Sary, sympathetically, while Barbara struggled vainly to wrench herself free from the ill-smelling wrap that generally hung in Halsey's kitchen.

"Ah hev it! Polly, git the box Nolla gave me. Ah'll let Miss Bob wear my scarf!"

This meant supreme sacrifice for Sary, but she willingly offered the one and only treasure to serve a betrayed friend. Still she was at a loss to understand where that basque could be!

Finally Barbara squirmed free and Mrs. Brewster managed to say:

"Sary, Bob has on one of her most modern evening gowns. They are made without tops, you know!"

Sary gasped and suddenly collapsed upon the chair. Her strained expression, as she took a covert look at the dress, spoke volumes.

"Glory be, Miss Brewster," whispered Sary, hoarsely. "You-all don' mean it fer trut', do yuh?"

"Yes, Sary, it is a very expensive and stylish robe."

"An' kin you-all let her march brazen-like, like that, in front of the men!" shrilled Sary, holding both wide hands over her heart.

"I never heard or dreamed there was such ignorance in the world, as I have found in Colorado!" now flared Barbara, turning and leaving the cloak-room.

Sary waited but a second, then she cried, "Ah cain't 'low Jeb t' see sech sights—an' he a good bachelor-man!"

Sary rushed out to spare her prey any shocks, and the other members of the party gazed at each other doubtfully.

"Oh, well, it's not our funeral, Potty!" said Eleanor.

"Shall we join the dancers?" asked Anne.

"Yes, but I fear Bob will be ostracized," said Mrs. Brewster.

"Serve her right! Anne and I told her not to dress like that, but she would, you know. She wanted to show folks the style," explained Eleanor, taking silent Polly by the arm and leading her out to the main hall.

As they left the cloak-room, the girls heard the fiddler shout: "Git yer pardners fer the Grand March!"

And from that time on to midnight, the three girls had the best fun ever. But poor Barbara stood near the cloak-room as isolated as the plague, for the ranchers dared not even look at a gown without a top, let alone dance with the doubtful thing.



CHAPTER XI

IN THE WILDERNESS

Each day the four girls rode along various trails until, in the judgment of Jeb, they were practiced enough to take a longer ride in the mountains.

Polly had been urging Jeb to give a favorable opinion on their ability to stand a prolonged ride to the Flat Tops, but he was careful and practical and persisted in making them try a greater distance daily to finally harden them to a rough trail.

Then Jeb said he reckoned the girls could start for a real outing. Immediately, they planned where to go and what to see.

Polly outlined a trip that might take a whole day, so they would have to take food and kit for cooking purposes. Each girl would ride her favorite horse or burro and the extra burro, Choko, could carry the outfit.

Of course, Polly decided to ride Noddy, as the burro was well acquainted with her mistress's ways and the mountains. Eleanor preferred a burro also, because, as she said comically, "if one falls from a burro's back it is not far to Mother Earth." The two other girls selected horses, sure-footed and trained for climbing.

On the morning chosen for the trip, Mrs. Brewster and Sary were up at day-break preparing the kit and packing the panniers. At breakfast, four eager girls, with wide sombreros on their heads, heavy mountain- shoes and leather puttees covering feet and limbs, talked of the great adventures they were about to meet with.

Sam Brewster laughed at their wild imaginings and said: "Ah shouldn't wonder but what you-all will find a second 'Aladdin's Lamp' hiding place. Just think of the fun to be had by rubbing the Lamp and wishing for things!"

Then Jeb brought the mounts from the barn and Sary helped him strap the panniers and kit to Choko. Just as they were ready to start, Sary flew out with a paper package carefully held.

"Polly, Ah made a s'prise fer you-all, but don't let Choko roll in it er run away, er my work will go fer nuthin'."

"Don't worry about Choko, Sary, he's too trustworthy to serve us such a trick," bragged Polly, petting the burro on the head.

"Wall, then, see thet it hain't shooken up too much er gittin' mashed under the ax," were the parting words from Sary, as she shifted the short ax, which is an important item in every outfit.

It was a wonderful summer day—the kind that makes one feel happy in mere living, and the anticipation of wonders to come added a zest to the outing for the girls.

They left the trail leading from Pebbly Pit and picked up the rough mountain trail at the Forks, Barbara and Eleanor exclaiming constantly at the gorgeous wild flowers growing wherever the roots could find lodgment.

"I never saw such columbines! Four times the size of ours in the East," cried Eleanor.

"And those marvelous orange-colored blossoms! They look like a rare exotic, with their huge clusters and flaunting colors!" exclaimed Barbara.

"If you girls think these are so beautiful, just wait till we reach the 'bottoms'—there you will see size and color enough to make you wonder if you accidentally struck Paradise," said Anne.

"And our ferns and mosses, girls! You never saw such specimen, elsewhere," added Polly, churking to Choko to hurry on.

"Polly, why did Jeb over-load that poor little burro?" now asked Barbara, having lost her momentary interest in flora.

"Choko isn't over-loaded at all. Of course it looks as if he had a great load to carry, but pans and woolen blankets look more than they weigh, you see. The heaviest thing he carries is my ax, I reckon."

"Ax! What do you want of an ax?" wondered Barbara.

"Can't tell how cold it may be up on the mountain-top, so I brought the sheath-knife, ax, rifle, and other things in case we get the tail-end of a blizzard."

"And the blankets in case we get lost and need to camp out all night," added Anne, teasingly, seeing the city girls' fears.

"You can't really mean it, Anne! Surely we won't lose our way, and as for a blizzard! Well, it is July," laughed Barbara.

"It wouldn't be the first time we ran into a blizzard in July," commented Polly.

"But how is it possible, girl alive!" cried Barbara.

"Possible enough on the Flat Tops. The merest rag of a cloud finds an excuse to carry snow from the peaks. The wonder will be if we come away without seeing snow fall."

"Oh, Polly, how thrilling!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"Once when father and I rode over this same trail to find a trapper who had pelts for sale, we got caught in a blizzard. We got the pelts but we also got the storm, and lucky for us that we had the pelts first.

"I never had experienced a real mountain storm, but father had, so he showed me what to do. I think I would know now just what to do in case of another surprise."

"Bu-r-r-r! Let's hope you won't have to practice on us," laughed Eleanor, pretending to shiver.

"Stop your nonsense, Nolla! I don't want to think of such dreadful things," cried Barbara.

"And I want to hear about how the pelts saved her life," added Anne.

"It's real interesting, Bob, so let me tell them," asked Polly, and receiving no unfavorable word or look, she proceeded:

"It was the Fourth of July, and of course no one would start on a ride wearing a fur-lined coat, so father and I had on our summer clothes.

"After riding along Top Notch Trail for a time, we met the trapper and bargained for the furs, then started back by a new trail he told us of. It led past Pagoda Peak, and just as we got to the base of the peak and discovered the down-trail, the blizzard came swooping upon us without warning.

"Father and I tried to keep going, but the gale traveled too fast and blew in whirling eddies, so we got the pelts out of the bundle, and wrapped ourselves in the largest ones. The smaller ones we used for our feet. Father found two great bear-skins and covered the horse—that acted as a shield on one side from the storm—the other horses stood in front and back of us, making three sides protected.

"Father then made me creep with him to the refuge made by the three horses and there we remained. The horses stood perfectly still throughout the blizzard, which lasted only an hour at most, and the steam they exuded from their bodies kept us quite warm as we crouched under them.

"When the storm blew over, we dug a way out and removed the horse blankets and fur pelts from the horses. Then we rolled our own coverings into the bundle and started on down-trail. But the floods of melting snow caused wash-outs and it was risky going. When we reached the first Park never a sign of snow was there, and the only result of that mountain blizzard was an added flood of water pouring down the gulleys to the bottoms and valley."

"Oh, Polly, what an interesting book your adventures would make!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"I'd like to write it down as you tell it, Polly, and we can surely find a publisher for it," added Anne, eagerly.

"Really! Oh, how I'd love to tell such a story!" said Polly, all enthusiasm.

"We'll try it as soon as we get back to-night!" promised Anne.

The going was easy, so Polly told of other adventures: of the trip to Buffalo Park when a bear chased them; of her meeting with Old Montresor, the gold-seeker of Grizzly Slide and his pitiful story; of the nights spent out on the mountains, watching beside a dying camp- fire, or listening to the call of the moose to his mate on a moonlit night; of the wonderful sport fishing in trout-filled streams, or seeking gorgeous flora and strange fauna on the peaks, and again photographing wild beasts and birds that never showed a fear of her as she traversed their domains. The three girls were spell-bound at her vivid descriptions and Anne sighed with desire to put it all down on paper for future publication.

"Montresor's Mine is in this mountain that I want to show you to-day. He was a dear old man who lived a solitary life in a cabin near Buffalo Park. Patsy, his dog, was his only companion. But he died and left me his mine—that we never found again," sighed Polly.

"Oh, Polly! Tell us the story!" chorused the girls.

Polly laughed: "It isn't a story, 'cause there never was a climax as real stories have to have, you know. But I'll tell you how I met Mr. Montresor. I was out with Noddy, one day, and we traveled farther than usual.

"In leaving a bad trail to take a good one, I met the gray-haired man slowly riding up. An Irish terrier ran back of his horse, sniffing, sniffing, and whining as if distracted. I was so surprised at the dog's actions that I stopped to ask the man what ailed him.

"'Ah, my child, Patsy is seeking for my lost mine!'

"'Your lost mine!' I gasped, for I had never heard of him or his mine, although folks said there was a rich vein of gold somewhere in the mountain.[Footnote: This is a true incident.] "'Yes, child, I am the unfortunate Montresor. Haven't you heard of my great loss?'

"I thought the poor man was foolish, so I humored him by saying, 'No, sir, I never did, Won't you tell me about it?'

"Then he told me the story. He had been an old prospector in the Klondike, but not a successful one, as he was too honest. On his return, from Alaska, he had to stop in Denver and work for his fare back to the East where he came from. Being a splendid engineer as well as a mineralogist, he found a place with a crew of mining engineers about to inspect Pagoda Peak section and Lost Lake district. He came with them.

"After he had been in these mountains for a time, he was so certain of finding gold that he remained when the rest of the crew went back to Denver. After two years of patient digging and prospecting he took a new trail that was later found to be Red Man's Trail, seldom traveled, as it was such dangerous and hard going.

"He was climbing along an awful place where the ledge hung over a chasm, when he spied a small yellow nugget on the ground. He examined it and found it to be fine red-gold. Upon looking about, he found a few more, but there seemed to be no sign of gold in the ledge or in the rocks about him. Still he staked out a claim on the spot in hopes of later finding gold hidden in the ground.

"He hobbled his horse and made a good circuit of the place and then discovered that the opposite ledge of the abyss towered up hundreds of feet higher than the one he was on. That gave him an idea.

"He rode the horse carefully along his ledge until he reached a slope where both ledges met an up-grade of mountain-side. Leaving the lower ledge and back-trailing on the higher one, he stopped opposite the place where he had found the nuggets. He dismounted, sought carefully about, and to his joy found more nuggets exactly like the ones picked up on the opposite lower side.

"He took the pick from the saddle and worked at the wall facing him, and discovered a rich lode running straight in through the solid rock. He was so excited that he started off without staking a claim or otherwise marking the place. But he soon remembered and went back. He made out a correct claim and fastened it to a tree, then piled up the necessary heaps of stone with his stakes in the middle. Doing all he could think of to legally hold the right to mine the ore, he started back along the dangerous ledge. It was so dark by this time, that he could not find the way he came, and knowing it was almost impassable, he permitted the horse to choose a way out by going up the mountain- side, and so he finally reached the summit. Here he camped for the night and early in the morning he kept on till he struck Top Notch Trail, but so circuitous had been the route that he never could describe the pathway his horse took.

"Unfortunately, he had left Patsy home that day to guard supplies in the cabin, and he did not return there at once, thinking it wiser to first file his claims in Oak Creek. The clerk asked for section-corners or distances from the nearest surveyor's blaze, but Montresor had not found any.

"It was a question whether the claim would be legal, but the worried old man refused to give full details of the spot, as he feared the claim would be jumped, and he purposed going back again to make a survey for himself.

"On his way to the cabin for Patsy, a dreadful storm came over the mountains and lasted for three days. Snow, hail and wind blew down the sides until it seemed as if winter had come in full blast. Of course, no one would attempt climbing in that storm and Montresor had to remain in his cabin for the blizzard to pass.

"When he was able to travel again, he took Patsy to help find the place, but the rain had washed away all scent for the dog. After a tortuous climb on the trail, made ten-fold worse by the down timber and wash-outs, Montresor discovered land-marks and knew he was on the right pathway.

"However, he could see no ravine or ledges, and after hunting day after day, without locating a spot that resembled his claim, he well-nigh caved in. There was no gully, no ledge, no wall of rock with fresh- picked vein of gold showing in its face! In fact, so much rock and earth and trees had been washed down from Top Notch Trail during the great storm that the whole area he had previously covered had changed form and appearances.

"The poor man then tried to find his claim by following Top Notch Trail and coming down from the summit, but he was taken ill and laid up in his cabin for a long time.

"I rode up to see him whenever I could, and father wanted him to have some one stay with him, but the old man would not. Patsy was his only nurse. The ranchers laughed and said he was luny over gold, and that he never had seen any. Still there was the ore to cause wonderment, until a miner declared it was some the old man had left in his kit from Klondike. The report that he was trying to sell a claim that never existed, made folks shun him even when they heard he was sick.

"Cold weather was coming on and mother would not let me risk the long ride to his cabin so often, but one warm Saturday I packed supplies and rode Noddy up there. I found the poor man unconscious. Patsy stood by the bunk licking the limp hand. I looked about but no food or drink could I see. I lifted his gray head and tried to make him sip water from my bottle, but he merely opened his eyes and smiled.

"He tried to take something from under his head and I helped him. I found a scrawl saying, 'Look on Patsy's collar.'

"He tried to mumble and I stooped low but he relaxed suddenly and seemed to shrink. I felt his heart but it was still. I tried his eyes and they were sightless. Patsy sent up a heartrending wail and crawled over behind his master's gun and knapsack, so I knew my old friend was dead.

"I removed the paper from Patsy's collar and saw my name on it. Upon opening it, I found the dear man had left me all his interests in the claim filed at Oak Creek offices. I tried to coax Patsy to come with me, but he would not desert his master. Then I placed water in a dish and gave the animal my food, but he would not eat or drink.

"I hurried home to tell father and he rode back that same evening, to arrange for the old man's burial. Jeb and John went with him, and the coroner from Oak Creek, who is a friend of ours.

"When they reached the cabin they found faithful Patsy stretched across his master's body dead also. So both old comrades were buried together, although the minister from over the mountain said it was a sin to place both in one grave. When John told me, I said I was glad the two could travel the same trail together, for Old Man Montresor had found Patsy his best friend for ten years.

"We found no clew to his eastern friends, and when the last will and testament of Ralph Montresor was filed at Oak Creek, every one laughed at us for believing the fairy-tale of a crazy man. But I never believed he was crazy, and I do believe he once discovered that gold-mine!"

"Oh, Polly!" wept Anne and Eleanor, deeply affected by the tale, but Barbara plaintively remarked, "Do talk of something cheerful!"

"All right, Bob, I'll tell you something that will cheer your woeful heart!" jeered Eleanor, impatiently. "I'm going to take that Red Man's up-trail, soon, and rediscover the mine, then I'll give it to Polly for a present for her loyalty to Old Montresor!"

"Don't be silly! If you ever did find a gold-mine you'd hold on to it, fast enough!" retorted Barbara.

Eleanor winked at Polly and Polly smiled gratefully at her, but Anne broached another subject to spare the sisters an argument.

The horses had been jogging along a trail that now turned off to what looked like a wide plain.

"Here's the bridge I've been heading for," said Polly. "From here on, it's clear going to Lone Pine Blaze."

"Bridge! Do you call this a bridge," laughed Eleanor.

"It's a forest ranger's bridge. They build these over chasms and streams so horses and men can quickly reach any part of the forest when there is a fire. If they had to ford swift streams, or go round about, much time would be lost."

The bridge in question was made of loose tree-trunks thrown across the river and pegged down on either side where the ends rested upon the steep banks.

After crossing the log-bridge, Polly led the way towards what seemed to be a veritable wilderness of forest. Giant pines thrust their green tops far above trees that would have been considered landmarks in the East, but were deemed quite ordinary in the West. Next in height to the commonly-sized pines came gigantic oaks and then the still shorter aspens and lodge-pole pine.

"You never intend breaking through that tangle of trees, I hope, Polly!" cried Barbara, who had never seen such a bewildering growth of forest in her life.

"No, not this time! I'm making for that pine that you can see way above all of the others. That is Lone Pine Blaze, because it bears the blaze that shows the way to the up-trail!"

Noddy must have been a frequent traveler to this tree for she knew exactly the way to go and when she came opposite the pine that bore the blaze, she stopped of her own accord.

"Now, wasn't that cute?" cried Eleanor, riding her burro directly behind Noddy.

Polly jumped from her burro's back and went over to Choko. She removed the ax from the pack and chopped a way through the slender undergrowth which had grown up that season.

"Yes, here's the blaze as plain as day! Any of you girls want to read it for me?" laughed Polly.

The three curious girls jumped from their mounts and pushed a way over to the tree where they saw a queer mark made deep in the tree where the bark could not over-grow it.

"What does it say, Poll!" asked Eleanor.

"It means for us to turn to the left and follow the trail upwards!" said Polly, pointing to the signs.

"I should think the ranchers would put up sign-posts to guide travelers!" said Barbara.

"How long do you suppose a post would last in a mild little wind-storm that uproots trees and tosses them about like wisps of hay?" laughed Polly.

"Oh, Polly! You surely are making fun of us!" said Eleanor, doubtfully. "No, indeed, she is not! In the three months' time I was at the Cobb School, I saw some terrific gales sweep over the country!" added Anne.

But sign-posts and wind-storms were forgotten for the time when the horses came out on a strange road they had to travel. The wilderness of pine forest had been left on the right after leaving Lone Pine, and the trail led down gradually to a bottomland of brilliant green herbage. Directly over this emerald valley ran a corduroy roadway.

"There must have been a brook under this at one time!" stated Eleanor, finding the logs partly embedded in caked mud.

"No, this too, is built by our forest-rangers who help the timber jacks build these roads. You see, while frost holds good the heaviest tree trunks can be readily moved over icy swamp bottoms, but in the spring, when thaw and freshets begin, the bottoms are more like a marsh, or shallow lake, than anything else I know of. Then these corduroy roads are a make-shift for hard ground," explained Polly, while Noddy started to clip-clop over the firmly-set logs.

"Why don't the men wait for the next frost?" asked Barbara.

"Hoh! Don't you know the trees would be worthless if they were left for a season? Decay and mold or worms would destroy the finest wood. Besides, these logs, or poles, laid side by side in the mud, soon get to be as solid as a rock, for the mud, oozing up between the chinks of the logs, dries out and leaves them baked tight in the grooves."

Having heard the way this novel roadway was made, the girls took a lively interest in crossing it. No more questions were asked until Polly reached the trail that led up through the forest. Then Eleanor spoke.

"Polly, you're sure you know the road?"

"We can't go very far wrong! If we keep to the trail we are bound to come out on the top—somewhere!" laughed Polly, giving Noddy her head in selecting a safe footing on the rough trail.

Eleanor, eager to show how well she could ride, forced her burro past Noddy while the latter was making a slight detour about a sage-brush. She turned partly around to laugh at Polly, when her burro made a sudden lunge away from the trail, and at the same time, a diamond- backed rattlesnake struck out from its coil, reaching at least two- thirds the full length of its body.

"Help! Save me!" screamed Eleanor, frantically, but the brave little burro knew how to carry his rider safely out of the way of the reptile.

Polly saw the snake coil for another strike at Barbara's horse, which had almost reached the place before Eleanor screamed. The whole occurrence was so unexpected and sudden that Barbara had not seen the swift flash of cinnamon-red and dark diamond-patterned rattler.

With great presence of mind, Polly instantly pulled Noddy up on a mound of ground just above the reptile, and caught hold of a long supple branch of wood. In another instant she was whipping the snake until it could not tell from which direction the blows were descending—right, left, front or back! In a moment of indecision, the snake remained quiet and in that second Polly brought down her solid heel upon its flat head.

The other girls screamed and turned pale for they thought Polly had fallen from her burro upon the rattler—so quick had been her action. But the moment the daring girl looked up and laughed at them, they also jumped from their saddles and ran up to help.

Polly made sure the rattler was quite dead, then took a forked stick and held it up to view. It had beautiful diamond markings of dark- colors on cinnamon-red ground. The belly was of creamy white, and the tail had eight rattles attached to it by means of a peculiar fibrous ribbon. These rattles seemed to be of dry horny skin that made the buzz-sound when shaken. The head had been so crushed open that Polly could easily show the curious girls the poison-fangs which were hinged to the upper jaw.

"When a rattler intends to bite, its mouth grasps the object and these fangs drop down into the flesh, puncturing tiny holes into which the fatal poison flows."

Polly described the action of the bite minutely, causing her hearers to shiver with dread. Seeing the effect her words had made, she laughed, adding, "A snake does not always bite clear! I mean, the least thing keeps his teeth from driving straight into the flesh, so that the poison bag cannot empty its fluid under the skin. It is often a loose or sidewise bite, so that much of the poison never enters the wound. That is why so many folks survive rattle-snake bites. If it went clean, and the poison bag was emptied under the skin,—pwhew!"

Polly whistled to denote her sense of the outcome of such a bite, and Barbara cried, "Oh, mercy, Polly! I feel so sick after hearing you, that I want to go back to Chicago!"

Anne laughed at Barbara's fears, saying, "We may not see another rattler all summer!"

"Anyway, Bob, you're perfectly safe while on a horse, for they can always tell when a rattler is near and they avoid it. A rattler will never go out of its own course to strike—only biting when one passes too near it for its safety!" said Polly.

"Well, that's some consolation, anyway!" sighed Eleanor.

"What do you want to do with this snake, Poll?" asked Anne, as the sisters climbed back into their saddles.

"Goodness me! What would she do with it, except to kick it over into the bushes!" cried Barbara.

"Polly is laughing! She thinks you are crazy, Anne!" added Eleanor, impatiently, for she was eager to proceed on the trail.

"Well, Polly, I think we will have it skinned and sent to Denver to be made into an odd handbag for your mother!" suggested Anne.

"Oh, Anne, how splendid! I wish I could find a snake skin!" cried Eleanor.

"Yes, Anne, I think mother will love that!" added Polly, gratefully, so the rattler was moved carefully over to a large flat rock near the trail, where they could readily find it on their way back.



CHAPTER XII

THE BLIZZARD ON GRIZZLY SLIDE

As the adventurers advanced up the mountainside, the pines grew closer until it was almost impossible to ride between the great trees that crowded on either side of the faint trail.

"Polly, I don't see how we can go much farther!" said Anne, who had never before been as high as this.

"Oh, we are only one-third of the way up, Anne," smiled Polly, swinging Noddy suddenly to one side to avoid a bowlder of rock that had rolled upon the trail.

After more arduous climbing, the horses unexpectedly came out into a vast clearing, called a "park" by the natives. It was acres in extent, fringed about by the heavy close growth of pines. The girls exclaimed at the beauty of the spot, for wild-mountain flowers grew profusely among the thick buffalo grass.

"Now, then, every one of you start at this point and hunt for the trail. I haven't been here since last summer when we went for that trapper and his pelts. I didn't look for the blaze then, but it was here, so we must find it to help us find the way out!" called Polly, as she guided Noddy slowly past the fringe of forest trees, looking carefully at each tree.

"Goodness, Polly! Do you ever expect to find an opening in this tangle of trees?" asked Barbara.

"We can if Polly says there's one!" declared Anne, riding her horse carefully in the opposite direction from Polly.

Eleanor permitted her burro to follow after Polly, as she hadn't the slightest idea of what the blaze or trail would look like. Consequently, she was directly behind Polly when she shouted, "I've found it!"

The other girls wheeled their horses and galloped over to the place where Polly was swinging the ax about her head.

With several good whacks, she chopped down enough young aspens to clear a way through the brush, thus exposing to view an old tree bearing a blaze over twenty years old.

"I'll show you how to count the age," said Polly, beginning at the outer bark and counting the rings plainly lined from the new bark into the tree until she reached the place where the blaze had been made.

"How interesting! Then that means this trail was made twenty years ago!" said Barbara.

"Maybe twenty times twenty years ago, for all we know. Nobody really knows how old this trail is, for it was used by the Indians as far back as the oldest trappers and hunters know and have heard tell from their fathers and grandfathers!" replied Polly, swinging into the saddle and telling Noddy to proceed.

The little burro obediently went into the seemingly impassable thicket, the other horses following. After they had traveled for ten or fifteen yards, the undergrowth thinned until they were going on pine-needle- covered ground as soft as moss. The silent forest with its sentinel pines, spreading a canopy overhead, seemed like another world from the bright glare of the one left behind that morning.

The trees were so tall and majestic, with great fragrant green tops that scarcely allowed a sunbeam to penetrate to the pale green twilight underneath, that a solemn peace pervaded the minds of the young adventurers. The singing of birds, or the crackling of dry twigs, as wild creatures sprang over them, were the only sounds heard.

No shrubs or vegetation obstructed this impressive place, so the girls rode on in silence, until the trail ascended again. Near the confines of this forest, Polly suddenly reined in Noddy and held out a warning hand. Right across their pathway sped a young deer. It paused by the side of a sheltering pine-trunk, with head erect and fore-foot poised gracefully, gazing steadily at the strange creatures who dared intrude upon those sacred precincts!

It as suddenly vanished again, and the girls breathed deeply.

"Oh, for our camera!" cried Eleanor.

"How stupid of us to leave it home," added Barbara.

"It's always the way. Who remembers a kodak until it is needed," laughed Anne.

"John promised to bring me a fine camera this summer, but he never came home from college, so I didn't get it," said Polly, wistfully.

"Haven't you one, Poll?" wondered Eleanor.

"Not yet."

"It's a shame—and you with such wonderful ways to use it. The moment we get home, I shall give you my new one, and you can give me some prints from it in exchange," said Eleanor, generously.

"Why, Eleanor Maynard! Yours is brand new and cost forty dollars!" cried shocked Barbara.

"Of course it's new! Would I give my best friend a second-hand thing?" retorted Eleanor.

"Oh, Nolla, it's awfully good of you but I wouldn't think of taking it!" exclaimed Polly, gratefully.

"If you don't I'll give it to Sary, and then you can look for trouble! She'll snap pictures of Jeb at dinner, of Jeb at the pump, and Jeb here, there, and everywhere!"

The girls laughed merrily at the pictures outlined, and the camera was forgotten.

After climbing for two hours more, Noddy wrinkled his nose and twitched his sensitive ears.

"Noddy scents water. See, Choko is acting the same way," called Polly; and sure enough both burros were making faces at the sky-line.

In a short time the riders reached another Park but this one was not half the size of the first. Instead of encircling forest trees, the girls saw giant up-thrusts of rock that deft the blue sky. On each side of the widened trail stood lodge-pole pine that ran up to the summit and down the other side of the peak.

"At last—Top Notch Trail!" exclaimed Polly.

"You seem relieved?" ventured Anne.

"I am, because I half-doubted whether I would remember the right route without an older guide."

"When in doubt don't do anything," suggested Eleanor.

"If we didn't do anything we wouldn't have been up here," argued Anne.

"This trail runs straight to Grizzly Slide, a glacial peak I've always wanted to see. Father never had time to take me and mother wouldn't allow me to find it alone. Explorers say it is a permanent glacier that seldom changes its form as most of our other snow-capped peaks do in summertime."

"How I'd love to see it!" sighed Eleanor.

"It sounds as if we were in Switzerland about to visit the Alps," added Barbara.

"Have you any plans for to-day, Polly?" asked Anne.

"Nothing particular. I thought we would try for this trail and have dinner up here, then do whatever you liked before starting for home."

"How long might it take to ride along the top and hunt for Grizzly Slide?" asked Eleanor eagerly.

"I'm not sure of the distance, although I hear it is four miles from Four Mile Blaze. From here to the blaze may be one or ten miles, but the going is fine on this trail," replied Polly, eagerly showing her inclinations.

"I simply won't consider going back home yet!" declared Eleanor.

"We might go on a bit further before eating, and then we can see what the trail is like. If we decided to try for the Grizzly Something-or- other Poll mentioned, I'll agree, all right!" ventured Anne, the gleam of adventure shining in her eyes.

"I'm the only molly-coddle in the crowd and I'd like to see more of this mountain, myself," laughed Barbara.

"'Nuff said,' when Barbara talks like that!" laughed Eleanor.

So they continued along the crest of the mountain from which grand views of distant peaks and vast forest-sides could be seen. The brilliant hues of wild flowers, everywhere, mottled the ground; the dark-green of towering pines, or again the shorter aspens like pickets on guard in the foreground; the bleached skeletons of lodge-pole pine burnt clean in forest fires; and just before the riders, the plunging water falling from a cliff that shut out any glimpse of the trail ahead, combined to produce a master-piece of Nature's work.

"Why not camp at those Falls for dinner?" asked Eleanor.

"Good idea—I'm half-starved," admitted Anne.

"And maybe the horses can rest, too," from Barbara.

"Bob's going to join the S.P.C.A. soon," laughed Eleanor.

"No, I'm not, but horses will last longer if you feed and rest them, and I do not care to walk home!" retorted Barbara.

"I brought my fishing tackle, girls, and while you are unpacking dinner I may as well cast for a few trout in that stream," suggested Polly. "Can you fish trout?" exclaimed Barbara, wonderingly.

"Can a bird fly?" laughed Anne.

"The idea! A westerner and not know how to fish!" scorned Eleanor.

But Barbara was not sensitive to-day so did not feel offended at these remarks; neither did she take pains to disguise her real sentiments when it would have been kinder to keep silence on a subject.

Having reached the base of the cliff, the girls found a delightful spot for the luncheon. The packs were slipped from Choko and he, with the other mounts, were hobbled and left to graze on the buffalo grass in the clearing.

The girls unpacked a pannier while Polly arranged her tackle and started for the top of the cliff whence fell the water.

"Let me go with you, Poll, and watch?" asked Eleanor.

"If you won't speak, and mind you don't slip and fall!"

"I won't," promised Eleanor, crawling up after the sure-footed Polly until both reached the top. To their surprise, the girls found a cleft between two great rocks with a quiet pool resting at the base. The current passed, rushing onward to the Falls, but the water circulating in the nook scarcely rippled. Even as the two girls watched, a flash of a speckled back flounced up in play and splashed their shoes.

"What a spot for trout!" whispered Polly, crawling out to the rim of a rock while Eleanor watched breathlessly.

"Not too far out, Poll!" whispered Eleanor, anxiously, as Polly leaned over the edge to gaze into the clear depths.

Without a word, Polly carefully cast her fly far out upon the smooth surface of the sparkling water. Then flashes deep down, and in incredibly short time a large speckled trout rose to the bait, and Polly felt her nerves tauten with the excitement of the sportsman. Eleanor held her breath for fear the trout would disappear.

Polly landed that one, weighing at least three pounds, then caught two more, weighing about two pounds each.

"Guess these will be enough for this noon. No use catching more than we need!" remarked Polly, coming back to Eleanor's side.

The girls hastened down the rocks and brought the fish over to the place where Polly expected to find a good fire burning.

"Why, I don't see any fire—didn't you build one for the fish?" cried Polly.

"You didn't tell us to! Anyway, what would we make it with—no matches and no kindlings!" replied Barbara.

"Can't you girls start fire with flint—or some sticks?" asked Polly, curiously.

"The only fire I can light is with a safety match and the valve of a gas-stove!" replied Barbara, quaintly.

The others considered her remark very funny and Polly promised to teach them how to make a fire with two sticks only!

"Do it now, and fry the fish for us!" said Eleanor.

"No, it will be too late for us to begin all that now. We had better wait until supper-time. We really ought to be on the trail by this time," said Polly.

"Child alive! You don't intend being out in the woods at supper-time, do you?" gasped Barbara, fearfully.

Polly laughed. "Is that so fearful? Why, I think it is piles of fun to camp out on a fine night!"

"Maybe you do, but remember the rattle-snake! We may be sleeping on the ground when one comes along-Oh, OH!" cried Barbara, shivering.

"Oh, come now, Bob! No use conjuring up such gruesome pictures to tickle your nerves!" exclaimed Eleanor, impatiently.

"If you don't want to go on to Grizzly Slide, now's the time to say so! When we get there it will be too late to complain about the lateness of the hour in getting home!" said sensible Polly. "Oh, we all want to go to Grizzly Slide!" asserted Anne, hastily.

"And we will take everything that comes with it!" declared Eleanor, eagerly.

"Well, all right, but for the love of goodness, don't let's camp in the wilderness all night!" cried Barbara.

They sat down after that discussion and ate the sandwiches and fruit, but Polly wanted a piece of the chocolate cake she thought Sary had packed for them.

"I couldn't find any! We looked through and found only sandwiches in the papers," said Anne.

"Oh, pshaw! I was sure there was cake!" grumbled Polly.

"It may possibly be in the bottom of the other pannier, as we didn't unpack everything, you know," suggested Barbara.

"If it is, we'll eat it to-night for supper. At least we know Sary packed something good for us," added Anne.

Once more on the trail, the adventurers rode through forests where the notes of unseen birds blending with the murmur of pines sounded like weird music to the city girls.

"Just like the sea's roar in a conch-shell, isn't it?" whispered Anne, as she listened rapturously.

They passed tumbling, hurrying mountain streams where the burnished trout flashed swiftly back and forth in the clear water. They came to an upland park where the soft whistle of quail caused Polly to lift her rifle, but the whir of wings told of a flight. From jagged rents in the cliffs, through which the horses passed, their hoofs ringing echoes from the iron-veined rock, they came to sleepy hollows where the Quaker Aspens stood ghostlike as sentinels on guard before their beautiful Eden.

Having climbed one peak and descended it, then the next one, and so on, and on, following the winding trail that became more difficult to find and more dangerous to climb, Polly finally drew rein beside a tree distinctly scarred.

"Hurrah! The blaze to the Slide," shouted she, scraping away the lichen that covered the spot.

Glad of an excuse to jump down and stretch their limbs, the other girls joined Polly at the tree and saw the blaze, although so old, to be perfectly plain and easily traced.

"Four miles to Grizzly Slide!" read Polly, exultantly.

"But it must be three o'clock or more. When can we hope to get back home?" murmured Barbara, glancing down the trail they just left.

"Too late to worry about that now," said Eleanor.

"I plan to see Grizzly Slide and then camp somewhere," said Polly.

"That is the best thing, now," added Anne.

"You don't mean to sleep out in this awful wilderness, do you?" gasped Barbara.

"No, we're going to engage a suite of rooms at the 'Queen Victoria' for to-night!" jeered Eleanor.

"I hope to reach the Slide and ride back to those Falls for camp. We have fish and pasture and soft moss there," said Polly.

"Ideal place, too," approved Anne.

"But the wild beasts, and, oh, suppose a rattler comes along while we are asleep?" almost sobbed Barbara.

"He'll steer clear of you, Bob!" retorted Eleanor.

"Come on, girls, don't waste time arguing, or we'll camp on top of the peak, yonder," laughed Polly, jumping back into her saddle and urging Noddy along the way.

Although Grizzly Slide was but four miles from the blaze, the trail was so rough that the horses had to go slowly. Too, the rarefied air strained the animals' hearts and Polly advised frequent halts to rest the heavily breathing beasts.

During those four miles, the trail often opened from the heavy timber and gave a glimpse of far-off valleys, and dreadfully nearby abysses that made one feel that one was on top of the world. Even the pines in the nearer crests and clefts looked like wisps of green—so small they appeared from the tremendous height.

The trail finally led through a thick forest of lodge-pole pine that looked interminable, but suddenly ended at a line as if it had been purposely cleared away. The riders all sat in silent awe at the sight before them. They had reached Grizzly Slide!

The snow-capped peak, reaching an altitude, from the clearing where they stood, of at least a thousand feet sheer up, dazzled their eyes in the bright sunshine. To the left of the peak, the sides dropped down almost perpendicularly to the level floor of a valley many thousand feet below. To the right, the snow-fields stretched across a vast area before any timber could be seen on the downward slope.

The snow of the Slide was continually melting in summer and furnishing icy streams that cut through in every direction to reach the vales far down. The temperature was almost at freezing point near the peak, and the girls quickly donned their sweaters which had been packed in Choko's panniers.

In removing the sweaters, Polly accidentally pulled out a heavy coil of rope, but hung it back on one of the knobs of Choko's harness instead of buckling it inside the pocket. Well she did, too.

"Come on, girls, I want to see what that blue line is over on the ice- field," said Polly, starting up the Slide.

The horses were sharp-shod and sure-footed, so the girls rode as safely as if on the mossy trail, but they had not gone far before Polly began murmuring to herself.

"What's the matter?" wondered Anne, aloud.

"That blue line looks to me like a crevice in the ice."

"What of that?" asked Barbara, stupidly.

"That shows something queer! This slide seldom cracks into fissures, but when it does it means trouble. If that crevice goes down very deep it shows unusual warmth underneath. And that may move this upper section of ice-field any time, thus creating an awful land-slide, don't you see?"

"Oh, mercy! Let's hurry back!" cried Barbara, wheeling her horse immediately.

"It isn't likely to occur as quickly as that, Bob," said Anne, soothingly. Then turning to Polly, said: "But this slide is said to be stationary."

"It has moved, but so seldom that folks never fear it. I know something about land-slides after living in Pebbly Pit for fourteen years, and even a little slide at the lava cliffs causes an awful destruction, so I can picture what this gigantic slide would do if it ever got started down!"

"You said it happened when Montresor's Mine was buried?" reminded Eleanor.

"Yes, a small one then, and it may happen again, so we won't stay another moment," begged Barbara, from a distance.

"It's all right at present, Bob, and I'm going to see if the chasm runs along very far," returned Polly, riding Noddy away from the girls.

Anne and Eleanor watched the blinding peak where clouds drifted lazily about so that the top of the crest was visible only now and then. At such times, the sun flashed upon the ice and reflected myriad colors as in a rainbow.

"Isn't it just beautiful!" sighed Anne.

"As wonderful and beautiful as his Satanic Majesty!" declared Eleanor, but she anxiously watched Polly ride along the brink of the fissure.

"Oh, girls! Won't you please come home! I won't be easy till my horse is traveling that corduroy road again!" wailed Barbara.

The others laughed. "You complained about that when we crossed it. The time may come when you'd be glad to be standing on Grizzly Slide— after it has slid!" teased Eleanor.

"Now I'm going back! So there!" threatened Barbara, but she remained exactly where she was, for she feared to go back alone.

"Well, it looks as if we would have to return unrewarded. I can't find a place safe enough to cross to the peak, and the crevice seems to run all the way across and deep down, too," said Polly, coming back to join Anne and Eleanor.

"Now will you come back?" nagged Barbara, desperately.

"In a minute! We want to watch those rainbow-tinted clouds—they are so beautiful!" sighed Anne.

But even as she spoke, the fleecy clouds of snowy white changed quickly to gray. From gray they turned to dark ominous-looking colors, and Polly hastily glanced at the sun.

"Let's ride back at once!" said she shortly.



Noddy was turned and urged to lead off as fast as possible, but Polly turned every few moments to watch the clouds now gathering in somber banks and falling down over the Slide.

"Girls, make more haste!" ordered she.

"What's the matter, Poll?" called Anne, who was in the rear.

"I want to get you-all to the timber line just as fast as we can travel. Don't waste breath talking—just ride!" cried Polly, fearfully.

"I told you to come home. I knew something terrible would happen up here!" wailed Barbara, trying to push her horse, by leaning far over his neck.

"Yes, you always were a Calamity Jane. If we'd left you down with the rattle-snake we wouldn't have been so hoo-dooed!" cried Eleanor, in her nervousness.

"Noddy, dear, won't you go faster? We must set a better pace for the others, you see, pet!" said Polly to her little burro.

Apparently Noddy understood the need of a brisker step, for she started so that she soon out-distanced the others and Polly had to wait for them. As she waited impatiently, she watched the clouds sweeping down and along over the ice-fields. Then she remembered the rope hung on Choko's collar. She jumped off, grabbed it, and soon had Choko securely fastened to the end of the rope. Another loop was fastened to Noddy's collar. As the others rode up she tied a loop to each mount so that a chain was made of the five animals.

"Is it a blizzard or a tornado, Poll?" gasped Anne.

"Don't know! Just race on as fast as you can!"

Then as they hurried across the icy slope, the sun seemed suddenly quenched and the daylight turned to sodden drab. Heavy drifts of snow could be seen falling headlong from the clouds hanging about the peak, making a wonderful if awesome sight.

"Girls, our lives are in jeopardy unless we reach the timber belt!" shouted Polly, trying to outcry the wind that shrieked down the Slide.

Noddy, brave little burro, quivered in dread of the elements sweeping about them, but she responded to Polly's call and fairly dragged the trembling Choko after her.

The hurricane was now screaming about the peak and howling horribly through the fissures in the ice. As the blizzard gathered fury and strength, the clouds, like rags torn from the sky, raged past the riders, every now and then sweeping the snow completely over them. Still the full fury of the gale had not yet appeared.

Polly stopped momentarily and yelled back her orders: "Every one grab hold on the tail of the horse in front of you!"

They comprehended the sense of this advice, but could not manage to act upon it, as the drifts of snow and ice made it impossible to jump from the saddle, or lean over to hold to anything.

By this time, everything was hidden from sight and even the foremost rider looked ghostlike in the gray light and snow. The trail was obliterated by the drifts and the going was slippery and slow.

"We've simply got to make that timber, girls!" shouted Polly, more to encourage than to urge, as she knew the beasts were doing their utmost.

The three other girls, too cold and frightened to speak, clung to their animals hopelessly. Noddy seemed imbued with supernatural powers, for she never made a miss-step or swerved from the trail, although it was invisible. This instinct of scent, so marvelous in these little burros, proved the salvation of the adventurers.

Then darkness fell completely and the storm broke loose in its fierce madness, so confusing the chain of horses that they stamped and turned until the rope was so tangled that the riders were threatened with being thrown. Even in that awful moment, Polly was glad she tied the beasts to-gether, for surely one or another of them would have bolted or strayed to doom with its rider.

Noddy seemed the only animal to keep her sense. As the other horses snorted and wheeled, Polly cried desperately:

"Noddy, Noddy! Can't you help us out?"

With a tremendous spurt of strength the little burro pulled herself free from the tangle, dragging Choko along, too. The other horses soon calmed down again and followed in the wake.

A glassy surface had formed over everything, so that a slip would prove extremely dangerous on that steep slide, but Noddy plodded along as if she knew that the responsibility of all depended upon her accuracy in trailing. The girls had to trust blindly to the burro's sixth sense, as no one could see whether a yawning chasm or a rocky projection was directly before them.

"Polly, I'm falling! I can't stick on another moment!" cried Anne, her voice reaching Polly, as the wind blew in that direction.

"Anne Stewart—you must! We're right at the timber-line now, and I'd be ashamed to say you gave in before Barbara!" shrilled Polly, to give her friend new endurance.

"I'm all in, too!" wailed the plaintive voice of Eleanor.

"Oh, dear God, tell me what to do?" screamed Polly, as if she must make the Almighty hear and help.

Just as all seemed at its worst, the wind suddenly died down, and the gloomy mantle of darkness lifted perceptibly. Polly felt sure the cessation of wind and sleet was but a lull before a second and worse cloud-sweep, but she made the most of the interval.

"One more step, girls, and we are safe! Keep up courage!"

To Noddy she crooned anxiously: "Now or never again, little one!"

Noddy turned momentarily to look into her beloved mistress's eyes as if to plead for breath and a moment's rest, and then she responded to the call of necessity and led the staggering line to the timber just as the gale began anew.

It was darker in the forest of lodge-pole pine than out on the ice- field, but the timber offered comparative refuge from the driving sleet and wind. Another difficulty presented itself, however, in the close growth of trees. To avoid collision with the crowded trunks, it became necessary to undo the rope that held the five beasts together. Each was thus allowed to roam his own way, and this was the more hazardous, as the hurricane ofttimes tore up a smaller pine and, twisting it about like a cork-screw, flung it down like a straw.

Noddy seemed possessed to travel in a certain direction, so Polly, sure of a burro's instinct for shelter and refuge, gave her her head. Eleanor's burro also seemed anxious to go in the same direction Noddy took, and followed in her footsteps. But Choko, freed from the detaining rope and not so worn by battling the gale with a rider to carry, made for a spot to the right of Noddy.

Suddenly Eleanor screamed and pointed at Choko. "Oh, look quick! Choko! Choko!"

Even as she cried, Choko was seen frantically scrambling on the verge of a cliff, and suddenly vanished over its side.



CHAPTER XIII

A NIGHT IN THE CAVE

"Oh, my little Choko!" sobbed Polly, quickly turning Noddy to go down to the edge of the precipice where the burro had slipped over and down.

"Now we haven't a thing to eat, and no blankets for the night! I knew this was a foolish outing," complained Barbara.

Eleanor failed to hear her sister's selfish remark, for she was driving her burro closely upon Noddy's heels. Anne was so impatient at Barbara that she urged her horse after Eleanor to keep herself busy.

"Good gracious! Am I to sit here alone and freeze! I'm sure I'm not such a fool as to have the same thing happen to me as it did to Choko," cried Barbara, but the wind carried her words back to Grizzly Slide.

Polly slid from her saddle and stretched out flat upon the brink to peer over the edge for a possible sight of the burro. As she did so, she saw a mass of baggage and burro scramble upright and shake itself violently. Then a plaintive whinny rose up to welcome the fearful girls.

"Whoa! Whoa, Choko!" shouted Polly, instantly.

Jumping up, she called to Eleanor: "Choko fell upon a ledge, but there's a great hole behind him and should he back he will surely fall in and be lost. I'm going down to lead him out!"

"Oh, Polly, don't risk your precious life for a burro!" screamed Barbara, hysterically.

"If Noddy can creep down, I'll save Choko without risk to myself," declared Polly, climbing in the saddle.

"If Polly goes, I go too!" exclaimed Eleanor, turning her burro to follow Noddy.

"Don't you dare! Nolla—think of mother grieving for you, and me left alone in Colorado, helpless!" cried Barbara.

"Now I'm going, anyway! I'd like mother to appreciate me," was Eleanor's unexpected reply, but Anne caught an undaunted look in the girl's eyes.

The combined persuasions of Barbara and Anne had no effect on Eleanor, who, truth to tell, exulted in this daring feat and would not have missed the thrill for anything. But her burro balked at the point where Noddy began the descent.

Noddy was making for a place where the ledge met the downward slope of the mountain-side. The burro felt about for sure footing and then took a step forward. Prodding carefully again, she took the next step, and so on. Sometimes, feeling suspiciously, she would essay a step and as suddenly bring back her hoof before breaking into the pit. Thus taking one assured step after another, she finally reached the beginning of the ledge where Choko had landed.

Upon the mountain-side where the frozen girls and beasts trembled, the wind howled and the blizzard swept along between the trunk of trees, but on the ledge Polly found comparative shelter and only now and then a blast of the gale.

She stopped to beckon to Eleanor and then urged Noddy along the foothold cleft from the cliff. Above, the rock-wall rose to the mountain-top; beneath, Polly could not gauge the depth—it was too dreadful and was now blurred by fine drifts from the blizzard.

After what seemed an age, Polly reached Choko, who still stood obedient to his mistress's command of "Whoa." But he shook and seemed completely broken up with fear and the shock of the fall.

"Dear little Choko!" purred Polly, jumping from Noddy's back and softly patting the burro's woolly face.

The burro affectionately nosed Polly, who gazed quickly at what she thought to be a pit back of the little beast. She gasped in wonderment and went to the dark hole. Then she quickly ran back and took hold of Noddy's and Choko's bridles. Standing thus, she shouted to the anxious girls above:

"Come down as carefully as I did and here you will find a cave." With that she disappeared into the yawning black hole, leading both burros. Barbara and Anne stared at each other in amazement, and the latter said: "Come carefully! Anything is better than freezing here."

Eleanor had already reached the ledge, when Polly came forth from the cavern to shout out advices. The two older girls made the perilous descent safely, and then guided their horses along the ledge until all stood before the cave where the burros were waiting.

"Isn't this a miracle?" cried Polly, the moment all were safe and the poor beasts were being led inside the refuge.

The girls laughed and cried hysterically when they saw the haven, but the animals seemed uneasy, and Noddy came up to Polly with fear apparent in her expressive eyes.

"Noddy, are you frightened? Surely no wild beast can be in here, at present?" queried Polly, looking around in the semi-gloom.

"Polly! What can it be?" shrieked Barbara, clinging to Anne in fear.

"Better get out again, Polly," suggested Eleanor, seeing the horses paw the floor, and strain their eyes to see.

"Are we safe here, Polly dear?" asked Anne.

"Safer here than up there," returned Polly, and as she spoke a great tree was flung down over the edge of the gorge just where ledge and slope met.

"Now we can't crawl out if we wanted to—the tree obstructs the way," declared Polly, decidedly.

"But we must see what it is that disturbs the animals," advised Anne.

"I'd rather throw myself over the cliff than be clawed to bits by a panther!" wailed Barbara.

"The horses are quieting down now, and Noddy seems as much at home as anywhere, so I reckon it was only strangeness that made them act queer," said Eleanor.

"But something may pounce out upon us, and take us unawares!" wailed Barbara.

"I propose to smoke them out as soon as I make a fire!" said Polly, looking about in the darkness of the cave for a possible stick of wood, but not finding any.

"I'll have to chop some of that pine! Noddy can carry me safer than I can walk on this ledge, so I want you girls to promise to keep the horses close about you and wait right here until I get back!" said Polly, taking the ax from the pack.

"Polly, I'm coming too! Two axes are better than one, and I can ride my burro, too!" declared Eleanor.

Anne and Polly sent the girl a look of gratitude, while Barbara was speechless until after Eleanor started to go, then she remonstrated volubly.

The two girls crept toward the down-thrown pine, and Eleanor said, "We'll need wood for a fire, won't we?"

"Yes, we will have to remain in the cave all night, and it gets so terribly cold upon these mountain peaks that we will be frozen unless we warm up the interior of the cavern. Then, too, we may need to keep fires going at the back end of the cave as well as in front, to ward off wild beasts!"

They were slowly advancing when another awful crash came from the slope above. Both girls ducked instinctively, but the decayed pine that was broken off above ground fell over the edge of the cliff just in front of them and obstructed the way so that progress was impossible.

Eleanor quaked and cried, "Oh, let's go back, Polly!"

But Polly laughed. "Glory be, our fire-wood came to us halfway."

At her cheerful words, Eleanor braced up again.

Polly jumped from Noddy's back and started to hew at the soft decayed wood. It was easy to chop and would furnish a flaring fire, even though it would burn rapidly and need constant replenishing.

"Nolla, this is the second miracle to-day! Had we hunted the mountain over, no better wood could have been found for just our need. Yonder on that other pine, when this is out of our way, awaits our bedding."

"What funny bedding!"

"Just you wait and see."

When enough wood was chopped to clear a way on the ledge, Polly showed Eleanor how to make bundles of it. These were tied by means of the rope to Noddy's harness and carefully dragged back to the cave. Several trips had to be made before both burros had brought the firewood to the growing pile in the cave.

When Polly spoke of cutting balsam for beds, Anne offered to help, as she was so cold.

"And leave me here alone?" cried Barbara.

"Why don't you come with us?" asked Eleanor.

"I'm dead! I can't do another thing!"

"Then stay here and cheer the burros," said Eleanor.

"I won't let every one of you go and leave me to be killed by a wild animal," shuddered Barbara, looking over her shoulder.

"Nothing wild here, but you, Bob. However, you may light a fire for us, while we are gone," retorted Eleanor, unsympathetically.

Without further comment, Barbara was left, and soon the girls were stripping the spruce which had blown over the ledge. Its green branches would make the softest of wild-wood beds.

"It really was fortunate that both these trees came down when they did! We would have to remove them as obstacles to our going out in the morning, and I would have had to hunt well before I could have found such fine tinder! So I've really saved myself a double chopping!" said Polly, as they tied up the last bundle of evergreen branches and started the burros for the cave.

"I'm just frozen, and I wish you would hurry and build a fire!" cried Barbara, petulantly, when the girls came within hearing.

No one replied, but Eleanor was furious, while the others were impatient with the girl.

"I was so hungry that I tried to get a sandwich out of the pannier, but something made a noise back in the cave, and I'm sure it was a rattle- snake buzzing!" added Barbara, trying to win sympathy from the stony- faced companions.

"Pooh! You've got rattle-snake on the brain! It would have done you good to get out there with us and do some rattling of the ax on the wood!"

"Why, Nolla! How unkind you are since we came to this awful country!" cried Barbara, not able to find a handkerchief, and sniffing audibly.

"Here! Use this to amuse yourself with while we work!" said Eleanor, taking a neatly folded handkerchief from her coat pocket.

When Eleanor turned again to the others, she found Anne had unharnessed the burros and piled the saddles upon a stone projection near the opening of the cave.

There were numerous little finger-like caves that branched out from the main cave, but they led nowhere and seemed empty. Polly noticed that the dry leaves and loose shale scattered about appeared to have been undisturbed for months. Some of the leaves were from the harvest of the previous fall, so she felt sure no beast had prowled about the "fingers."

Coming to a much larger extension than any of the others had been, Polly called out: "This must be the thumb of the hand!"

"Sure it isn't the arm!" laughed Eleanor.

"Ah, I thought so—now I have it!" murmured Polly, finding a nest of leaves and soft feathers packed down with bits of fur and dry grass.

"What have you found?" eagerly asked three voices.

"The lair of a grizzly. I've got him!" cried Polly, triumphantly.

Instantly, three girls screamed and turned to run, and Polly laughed.

"I've got him on the outside, girls! He can't get in with that fire smoking his front doorway, you see." "Oh, hurry back and pile more wood on the fire!" cried Eleanor, quaking with fear.

"Yes, yes, Polly! Come away and let's build more fires!" added Barbara, not knowing which one of the girls to hide behind, and looking at the horses as if pondering a refuge with them.

"What! And use all of our 'safety first' before dawn! If you waste the wood now, what will you do when old grizzly comes prowling home and finds your fires dying down?" said Polly.

"Well, do have one of us go and tend the fire carefully so it can't possibly die down and let him in!" added Anne.

"We are almost through exploring, so we may as well finish! Then we will all go and have supper and feed the animals."

The remainder of the cave proved to be a rocky wall gradually sloping down until it reached the entrance again. But, just at one side of the "thumb" was an aperture from which the wind blew in, as could be seen when Polly held her torch down to the opening.

"That leads out somewhere, and that opening is big enough to let a panther creep through, or a wild-cat! I'd like to crawl through there and make sure where it comes out and if it is quite safe on the other side," suggested Polly, looking at the girls.

"Oh, Polly dear! Don't do it! Suppose something should happen to you!" cried Anne.

"Why, I wouldn't let it, Anne! If I creep through that tunnel, I'd shove the torch in first and keep it moving ahead of me all the way, so that nothing could grab me, you see!" said Polly, half laughingly.

"I say, Polly, let well enough alone. Let's go back and get supper and rest for to-morrow!" advised Barbara.

"But just s'posing a rattle-snake was coiled up inside that tunnel! A burro wouldn't smell it, and it could crawl out during the night and take a good straight bite!" teased Eleanor.

Polly laughed, but Barbara thought Eleanor meant it, so she replied: "Then Polly had better go in and see if everything is safe for the night."

Anne had been so rudely shocked that day at the selfishness apparent in Barbara's character, that she did not try to hide her opinion. The wonder was, that she ever could have been so completely taken in during the months in Denver, as to declare Barbara to be a splendid girl when one knew her. She now decided that it took ranch life and mountain exploits to show up genuine characteristics and thoughts.

"Polly, I'll go in first!" offered Eleanor, dropping to her knees to crawl in at the opening.

"Eleanor Maynard! Come back here!" cried Barbara, taking hold of her sister's feet.

"Nolla, you shan't take the glory from me!" laughed Polly.

Meantime Eleanor was pulled back and rolled over, laughing as heartily as if she were at a farce-comedy.

"Now listen to me!" advised Polly, shaking a finger at the three girls. "First of all, Anne and Bob must go and watch the fires, then unpack the panniers, and next make beds of the tips—you know how, Anne?"

"I've watched the school children at Bear Forks weave it, so I'm sure I can make them, too," replied Anne.

"Good! You stick the little stem-ends under the soft fuzz of the others just laid. The principal thing is not to have hard prods hurting the body, and the tips will take care of the springs and softness, all right," said Polly.

"While Anne is making the beds, Bob can fix up odds and ends of spruce and leaves in the 'fingers' for the horses' beds—a bed in each finger, Bob. If the animals are comfortably bedded down they will be fresh in the morning. And if we hide them in those fingers the scent will not be so apt to reach a grizzly or lion should any prowl about to-night."

"Where shall I place the spruce beds for us?" asked Anne.

"Fix up two on each side of the cave as near the entrance as possible, Anne. We need air and the warmth from the fires. Then, too, we can hear any wild beast that may prowl around to-night," advised Polly. "If Nolla wants to go with me she takes second place, see!"

Eleanor laughed and said, "Anywhere as long as we start!"

"Polly, first I want you to promise me not to be reckless in going through that tunnel. If you meet with the slightest danger or hazard, promise to back right out again," begged Anne.

"All right, Anne, I promise, but my shoes will mar my follower's beauty if I back down on her face."

Thus joking to make little of the danger, Polly started in through the hole. Eleanor followed and the two older girls stood watching until not a sound, or ray of the torch, could be seen. Then they went to the front of the cave to replenish the fires and prepare supper.



CHAPTER XIV

OLD MONTRESOR'S LEGACY

"I'm afraid to fix the beds in those finger caves, Anne," whimpered Barbara, coming over to where the young woman was weaving the beds of spruce.

"What is there to be afraid of? The burros and horses won't hurt you, and they are too weary with this day's troubles to bother about kicking or trampling you. However, you can do this, if you like, and I will make up the beds for the beasts."

The spruce beds were being made—Anne showing Barbara how to lay the tips in rows as wide as the bed was to be, then folding under the sticks of the second row to run under the tips of the first row, and so on, until the length of the bed was made.

This work finished, and the bedding for the horses arranged in the "fingers" as Polly had directed, the two girls stood near the entrance of the cave, wondering what possibly could have happened to keep Polly and Eleanor so long.

"I just felt in my bones that it was an awful risk to go into the black hole of the unknown!" cried Barbara.

"It isn't that that bothers me at all, Bob. But Polly has no sense of fear, and I think they may have found an exit at the other end, so Polly is coming around that way. It is a hazardous thing to do, in this storm!" said Anne.

"Anne, can't you try to squeeze in there and see what has happened?" asked Barbara.

Anne looked at her without saying a word, so Barbara thought she hesitated on account of leaving her alone in the cave.

"I won't mind staying alone for a little time. I'll watch the fires and see that the horses do not get away!" said Barbara.

"Really!" was all Anne said, as she turned to place another pine knot on the fire.

But the tone silenced Barbara, who had food for thought thereafter.

Meanwhile Polly and Eleanor had crawled into the aperture, and by dint of squirming and twisting through the passage, found that only the section nearest the cave was of soft debris. It gradually widened as they advanced and Polly distinctly felt a current of cold air blowing in her face.

After creeping along for some distance without finding an outlet, Eleanor pulled on Polly's foot to attract her attention.

"Let's go back, Poll. No use hunting down in the bowels of Grizzly Slide."

"Nolla, the smoke of the torch blows harder than at first, and there is enough air to waft it backwards, so there will be an opening at the end, I am sure. That is what I must know for certain."

"All right, lead on! I'll be with you at the death!"

Polly chuckled at Eleanor's loyalty and crept on.

Finally Eleanor rugged again at her feet and shouted: "Hey, Polly! Aren't we most through to China? Let me know the moment you get the first peep at a pig-tail, as I have to brush the cobwebs from my Chinese!"

Polly laughed at the girl who made merry of a journey that would have staggered an older person. Finally, however, the tunnel widened so that both girls could advance comfortably and then, suddenly, the flame of the torch and the smoke ceased to blow into their faces, for they had come out into an open space.

"We're here!" laughed Polly, trying to stand up and giving her head a smart rap against the overhanging rock.

"'We're here!' For goodness' sake, tell me where?" cried Eleanor, thrusting her torch ahead so that it was almost snuffed out against Polly's shoes.

"Gracious me, Nolla! Don't burn my soles!" cried Polly, managing to stand upright and hold aloft her torch.

"Ha, that's good! Don't burn your soul!" teased Eleanor.

But the moment the girls saw where they were, not another word was uttered, for they found themselves in a vault-like cave somewhat smaller than the entrance cave, but having no "fingers" or outside opening. The dome and sides were rocky, but everywhere, embedded in the rock, myriad points of light reflected as the flare of the torch lit up the place uncertainly.

Eleanor thrust up her torch also, and both girls pivoted around, forgetting about wild beasts and the errand they came upon. After blinking at the bright yellow gleams for a time, Polly turned and stared at Eleanor.

"What is it?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Nolla. It looks like copper."

"Polly! If it's copper, then we're rich!"

Both girls rushed over to examine the metallic gleams at close range, and Polly frowned as a thought entered her mind. Eleanor turned and looked about to be sure no one could hear, and then whispered:

"Polly, it looks like gold! Can it be real GOLD!"

The girls stared at each other and then burst out into a simultaneous laugh. But it was excitement, not mirth, that occasioned it. Before the wild echoes had rung through the vault, the hysterical girls were tearing at the hard walls, trying in vain to dislodge a nugget.

"Oh, why did I leave that ax in the pannier!" wailed Polly.

"Isn't it always that way—when you need a thing!" exclaimed Eleanor.

In her haste to reach a fragment that looked easy to break off, Polly dropped the torch. She stooped to pick it up again and saw a nugget of the ore on the ground, half-covered with dirt.

"I've got a piece! Oh, Nolla, look! LOOK!" shouted Polly, holding aloft her treasure.

Eleanor ran over and both girls examined the chunk of yellow streaked and studded rock.

"Polly, it really looks like gold," ventured Eleanor, awed.

"And it's red-gold, too, like Old Man Montresor's nuggets," added Polly.

At the mention of the gold-seeker, both girls looked at each other and the same thought flashed to both of them at once.

"Maybe it is!" breathed Polly.

"Oh, Poll, hold the torch down near the ground so I can find a chunk, won't you?" beseeched Eleanor, now anxious to find a nugget for herself.

"There, Nolla—see over by the hole! A little piece for you."

Eleanor ran over and found it to be smaller than the one Polly found, but there was more metal in the nugget. They examined it closely and decided that the shining metal must be gold.