Fortunately the retiring party had reached where the gulch had opened out, and quite a broad band of brilliant stars was spread overhead from rock-wall to rock-wall, giving sufficient light for the ponies to follow one another in Indian file at a good round trot, which was kept up hour after hour, with intervals of walking and the indulgence now in a little conversation regarding the distance ahead of the mule-train or the possibility of its being missed.

But Griggs was positive.

"No," he said, "we can't have over-run them."

"But have they turned off somewhere? I don't remember any side valley, but we may have passed one."

"No, we mayn't, sir," said Griggs coolly. "We don't know it—at least, I don't suppose you did, for I fancy I do—but if the mules had turned off anywhere our clever mustangs would have done the same. They've been following the mules' trail ever since we started."

"What! Impossible in this darkness."

"Think so, sir? Well, suppose you wait and see."

There was silence for awhile, before the doctor rode to the front again to where Chris was now beside Griggs.

"We have heard nothing of the enemy," he said.

"No, sir. I've listened till it has given me a feeling like toothache."

"Do you think they are on our trail?"

"Ah, there I can't say anything, sir, only that they may be. But if they are, they're coming on at a regular crawl; I am sure of that."

"How can you be sure?" said the doctor wonderingly.

"Because they'll be, as Indians mostly are when they can't see their quarry, horribly suspicious of being led into an ambush."

"They did not seem so when they followed you."

"No; they could see me, and they forgot to be in doubt in the heat of the pursuit. But on a night like this, and after the way in which we have shot them down, they are bound to feel their way step by step if they follow at all. Most likely they'll wait till morning, when they'll pick up our trail."

"And then?"

"Come on as fast as they can run, sir. They won't ride."

Griggs finished off with a loud chuckle. "Say, Chris," he added, "won't they be mad at not being able to get out their ponies!"

"I suppose so," said Chris.

"But there's a good side to everything. It'll be grand for the poor beasts. They're ridden nearly to death; now they'll have a good rest with plenty of fine pasture."

"But about to-morrow, Griggs?" said Chris.

"What about to-morrow?"

"The Indians may follow us and overtake us on foot."

"Well, if they do, they do, my lad, and at the very worst they may capture some of our stores. But perhaps not. I don't like being a brute to a dumb beast, but if I'm driven to it I may have to be a bit hard to some of those mules. They can go so fast that no Indian can catch them—if they like."

"Yes?"

"Well, as a rule they don't like."

"That's the worst of it," said Chris.

"Yes, but this time they've got to like; and I know how to make them."

Daybreak at last, and with that dawn all doubts about the mule-convoy were at an end, for the first streaks of dawn showed them about a mile ahead, trudging steadily along, while no broadening of the day, not even the rising of the sun, revealed that for which a most anxious lookout was kept, namely, so many dark dots to indicate that the Indians were on their trail.

"I say they won't come now," said Griggs decisively. "We'll halt, sir, at the first water, and have a good rest and feed."

"Will it be safe?" said the doctor.

"We must chance that, sir, for the sake of making horse, mule, man and boy fit for what more he has to do."

"Well, perhaps so."

"It won't be losing time, and the mules and horses have done a good spell of work."



CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

ONWARD.

Whether the Indians followed up their trail the peril finders never knew, for they saw no more of that tribe, and wandered on for days in safety, passing into a new tract of country which Griggs hailed with delight.

"It's not goldy land," he said, pointing, "but a place where we can do a deal of hunting and lay up stores—dried meat for stock—before we enter the mountains yonder."

"Why do you say that?" asked Ned. "Because of those old bleached bones?"

"Yes: buffalo. That means going on for months. Once we hit upon the tail-end of a drove we can hang on to them as long as we like, and head them in towards the mountains and forest-land yonder. There's a peak there that looks very like the one we want to find."

But the weeks went on, during which the bison-drove was found, and supplied the party with all the meat they needed, and sport besides, at the long gaunt wolves always on the lookout for the weakly calves. There was sport too with the bears, and a narrow escape for the doctor from a grizzly which overtook and clawed him from his pony's back, the end seeming very near. But Chris Lee's rifle-bullet was quicker than the huge bear, whose skin when sun-dried, became the doctor's bed by night when it was hot, his cover when it was cold.

Then the great peak, reached at last, gave the adventurers a wondrous view all round, but not of the golden city, which always seemed to be farther off, while none of the peaks they found accorded with the old prospector's map.

But as the time glided on adventures were always at hand. Another strange rock city was discovered, evidently inhabited at a later date, for here the old dwellers' domestic implements were plentiful in the cell-like homes cut in the terraces of cliff or canon. Great earthen handmade pots that had evidently held some kind of grain, flint-heads for arrows, and those of larger size which might have been used for spears.

And so the journeying went on, with times when Indians surprised the party and were driven off, while others again that were found by a rushing river proved friendly and willing to show the strange white people how it was possible to get mule-loads of a kind of salmon in a day from the rushing waters for present eating, and for splitting open and drying in the sun.

Then bison again—another salmon-river—a narrow escape from a horrible death by thirst once more—encounters with rattlesnakes—the discovery in a great open plain of the cause of a distant roaring sound like water, just at a time when it was once more wanted most. And there it was where they could look down, Tantalus-like, from the brink of a vast crack in the level plain and see a vast river foaming along half-a-mile below them, never to be reached.

And then a year had passed, and the second began, as full of adventure and excitement as ever. But by this time, while still pursuing the phantom gold, they had learned by experience the value of keeping near salmon-river and verdant rolling plain where bison were still plentiful, and the adventurers' larder was always well supplied.

They led the life of the Indians of the plain, save that the finding of the golden city and temple was always kept in mind.

Twice over Griggs declared that though they had not found it they had discovered the high-road which led directly there. It was a watery way between perpendicular cliffs, and the place had been hailed for its promise of salmon, which they shot and speared as they glided in shoals over the yellow sands.

It was after scooping a wounded fish from the swift waters that Chris afterwards took the tin hanging from his belt and stood knee-deep to fill the vessel with the clear cold water fresh from the mountains.

"Hand me a tinful," cried Ned, who stood aloof so as not to wet his buffalo-skin boots.

It was boy-like. Chris filled the tin, and giving Griggs a merry look, scooped it half full of sand as well.

"I say, it feels precious heavy," cried Ned, as he raised it to his lips. "Yah!" he shouted, and he was about to toss the contents back over the giver, but Griggs caught him by the arm.

"I'll drink that," he said; "I'm not afraid of a little sand."

He drank till the sand touched his lips, and then held it in the sunshine, looking into the tin, stooped and refilled it, and rinsed it round, to pour away a mixture of sand and water, refilled again, and repeated and repeated till nearly all the sand had gone; and then he held out the cup in triumph, for the others to see a few glistening pieces of yellow metal about as big as small, smooth, flattened shot.

"Gold!" he cried. "Now then, all we have to do is to follow up this river into the mountains. The golden city is there."

And they followed that river for weeks, living upon the salmon, and washing for gold from time to time, and rarely without finding a few tiny nuggets, while the river grew more narrow, more rugged, more difficult of access, and drove them at last into cutting off curves and windings in the vast plain through which it flowed.

But the golden city was not there, nor anywhere else in their wanderings, which at last from sheer necessity in the way of supplies drew near an end.

But the journey was not yet over, for, to the surprise of all, they dropped one day upon a large settlement, with stores and all the necessaries required by civilised man.

Here they rested and recouped for a month, exciting no surprise, for prospectors were common objects there. Neither did their departure, after they had purchased all they needed, excite remark, for men came from the mountains to buy powder and blankets, and wandered off again in parties, generally with mules to bear their loads.

It was like getting out of prison to be far away in the wilds again, the boys said; and then the search went on week after week, month after month, always in vain; but despair and disappointment never cast a shadow over their little camp, for it was a delightful, healthy, exciting life, with every day bringing something new, and the golden city appearing generally in the distance after their most tiring days, when they had eaten, drunk of the crystal waters, and rolled themselves in their blankets to sleep.

It was then that the golden city came, bright and tempting, the visions of their dreams always luring them on when they rose refreshed by their rest in the clear air of the mountain or the plain.

"Oh, we're going to do it yet," Griggs would say merrily; and then they tramped to rest their ponies, and galloped when there was game afoot, and the time went on—and on—and on.



CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.

THE OLD HOUSE AT HOME.

The little mule-train, very lightly laden, and with harness, pack-saddles, and loads looking ragged, patched, sun-bleached, and repaired in every conceivable way, moved slowly along through the rich greenery, led and followed by its sun-tanned escort, three before and three behind. The ponies looked in admirable condition save that a change of diet seemed necessary to do away with a swollen-out aspect due to constant feeding upon green-stuff instead of corn. But the saddles and bridles were as bad as those of the mules, though every bit and buckle glistened in the sunshine through constant rubbing with sand. The less said about the patched garments of the escort the better.

But there were no rags. Patches of divers materials, principally furry skins, were plentiful, and the moccasins which had taken the place of boots were either Indian and very neat, or home-made and quite the reverse.

But here too there was something worthy of remark—each man's weapons were admirably cared for and ready for instant use, while the occupants of the saddles, though horribly dilapidated in the way of clothes, were also in that grand state of vigorous health which also made them appear ready for immediate use in any way, from hunting or shooting to obtain the day's provision, to fighting for dear life against the enemies of the white men who roamed the plains.

Not that these six wanderers could fairly be called white, for the sun had burned them to a dull brick-red; but the term men is advisedly used, for though when the party last passed that way, going in the opposite direction, they were made up of four hale vigorous men and two boys, the latter had been left in the desert lands through which they had been wandering for two years—left, that is to say, by degrees, every bit that had been boyish having physically died out, for its place to be taken by something more manly, till on this particular day they rode back with their feet much nearer the ground and their sturdy mustangs appearing stunted, though quite well able to carry a far heavier load than had been in the habit of climbing into the saddles when they started from the plantations at the above-named distance of time.

It was only about a couple of hours before, when the party left the shelter of a patch of great spruce-firs where they had camped for the night, that the doctor had made a remark to Bourne, and then both had stared hard at Chris and Ned, a proceeding which brought the blood into the young men's faces and made Chris ask what they are to laugh at.

"You," said the doctor. "Why, when we rode away on our search you looked a mere boy; you are coming back to the old home both of you men grown, if you weren't so lathy and thin."

"Nobody will know them, eh, Wilton?"

"That's for certain. They will grin at you."

"I wouldn't advise them to," said Griggs slowly. "Chris has grown very hot and peppery, and Ned here has done so much fighting that he always seems to be, as the Irish say, spoiling for another go in. So they'd better not laugh, for we want to settle down again as friends."

They had been journeying on since then, getting nearer and nearer to the old settlement; but the change seemed wonderful, and they talked it over.

"Why," said the doctor, "it isn't only the boys that have grown, but everything here."

"Yes, wonderfully," said Bourne; "overgrown, one ought to say."

"They don't seem to have used the tracks much," put in Griggs. "It's hard work to make sure whether we're going right."

"Oh, we're going right enough," said Chris. "I remember every hill and dale. Look yonder; that's where the plantations are. But how they have altered!"

"Yes," said the doctor, "the place does seem changed; but from the state of the tracks I'm afraid that very little has been done in the way of developing the fruit trade. Hullo! Why are you turning off here, boys?"

"Because it was just under those big fir-trees, father, that we took and buried that poor old prospector. Ned and I want to see the board we cut and nailed on the biggest trunk."

"To be sure, yes," said Bourne; "let's go and see."

The mules were halted, and began to graze, while the party rode through the lush saplings and bushes that had sprung up so that it was hard work to get through, till they passed under the spreading branches of the trees, where the undergrowth became thin and sparse.

"There's the old board," cried Chris suddenly, and the party drew rein at last by the side of the heaped-up pile of stones with which they had marked the wanderer's grave.

No one spoke for a few minutes, but they sat there thinking deeply of the old man's coming, his death, and his legacy to the doctor, who broke the silence at length with a bitter sigh.

"Poor old dreamer!" he said sadly. "You bequeathed us your imagination, and sent us off on our quest for the phantom gold."

"Yes," said Bourne; "we'd better have left him his legacy and gone on home to the old-country."

"Oh, I don't know," said Wilton. "We've had a grand time of travel and adventure, eh, boys?"

"Splendid!" came in a breath. "I'm only sorry that we've come back."

"Yes," added Chris. "You'll think that over, father, about rigging up another expedition and making a fresh trial?"

"We shall see," said the doctor thoughtfully; "we shall see. What do you say, Griggs, about another search for the golden city?"

"Well, I dunno," said Griggs slowly. "Maybe I'll wait a year before I decide one way or the other."

"Griggs!" cried the two lads together.

"Oh, you needn't shout," said the American. "I've been thinking over it a deal, more'n you have, p'r'aps, and it seems to me that even if we had found the old place marked down on that old Rip Van Winkle map we should have had a deal of trouble to carry back enough gold to have made the journey worth while."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the two young men uproariously. "There's an old fox. He has just found out that the grapes are sour."

"Well, so they have been, boys," cried the American. "But talk about grapes, it's just five years since I planted some fine young vines in my patch and against the shanty. I wonder whether the blights have let them grow. My word, I should like a few bunches now!"

"I'm afraid they'll be as sour as the gold, Griggs," said the doctor. "There, let's ride on and leave the poor old fellow to sleep in peace. He took his secret with him, for his map was too vague for us to find his city of golden dreams. We have spent two years over the search, but we have travelled well over an unknown land and come back, I hope, wiser and more ready to do battle with the world."

"Oh, we shall try again, father," cried Chris, "and get real gold yet, not phantom gold, as you call it. Nil desperandum, you know. Never say die."

"Try again!" cried Ned.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast," said Bourne gravely.

"Better luck next time," cried Wilton.

"Say, gentlemen," said Griggs dryly, "it don't seem to me a suitable time for you to be firing off your copy-book maxims all over the place when it's getting on for dinner-hour. I want to progress and ride on to the old plantations to see which of our old friends is going to win in the fight to have us for guests and give us a good sitting-down square meal."

"There's wisdom," cried Chris merrily. "Griggs is always right. Forward!"

He led the way from beneath the spreading boughs of the great spruce, out from the solemn gloom where the old prospector lay and into the glorious sunshine of the luxuriant, verdant country, which seemed a very Eden after the parching sandy alkali deserts and the rocky tracts. The mules and ponies kept on snatching at a mouthful here and a mouthful there, as if it were too rich and tempting to be passed; but in spite of the loveliness of all around, the adventurers became more and more impressed by a something desolate about the attractive district over which they passed. The hills and dales were glorious, but somehow they came upon no signs of cultivation, nor yet of settlements, till at last, with a feeling of sinking that was not all due to hunger, they rode right into the very centre of the cluster of plantations they had left two years before on their search for the golden city, to find on their return wherever they went traces of a fire here, completely over-run with greenery, there the remains of a shed or shanty with trees and vines dislodging the props and boards; and though they hailed and whistled it was only to scare birds or squirrels, and to awake no answering call.

They rode a little here and a little there, the ponies pushing their way through the tremendous growth; but it was all the same. Shanty after shanty was in ruins where it could be traced, but desertion everywhere.

But during the search, moved by a strange feeling of opposition, the friends shrank from approaching the dense grove which hid the home they had left. They all shared the feeling that it would be too painful to look upon the traces of the fire that without doubt had levelled with the soil the house they had toiled over, and it was not until Griggs spoke that something like a spell which had hung over them was driven away.

"Seems to me," he said, "that when the fellows burned or carried off all their stuff they made a pretty clean sweep. I'm just going across now to have a look at my old spot; but I don't suppose there'll be any dinner waiting there. Won't you have a look at your old roost first?"

"Yes," said the doctor, making an effort. "I couldn't go in yonder before. Chris, boy, there's no one to blame but ourselves; we deserted the old place; but it seemed to be hard to bear. Let's look at the ruins, if there are any left."

They forced their way through a dense grove of fruit-trees and wild growth which towered above the plantings of the past, the ponies breaking down the lush vines and succulent canes, till they were brought up suddenly by something solid which was overgrown by a vine.

"What!" cried the doctor.

"Ahoy! Griggy!" roared Chris through his hands. "Ahoy! Hooray! Here's one of our vines loaded and breaking down with grapes."

The next minute the American and his companions had forced their way up to the front of the big shanty and its shed—the barracks, as they had termed it—to find that their fellow-settlers had respected the nailed-up doors and shutters, leaving at their exodus the unlucky district just as it had been at the peril finders' departure; but Nature had been hard at work for her part, toiling as she toils in a rich country to destroy man's work and restore all to its pristine state.

But though vines had draped, and shoots had dislodged shingles, the stoutly-nailed walls stood firm. No firebrand had been set to the sawn-up wood, and after some work with an axe to wrench away the boards that had been nailed over window-shutter and door, there was the old place fairly intact, with the utensils just as they had been left.

The consequence was that the wanderers, after seeing to their weary beasts and leaving them grazing in the midst of abundance, made their own dinner seated at the rough table, drinking the water from the swift river hard by, and finding, half smothered by the competing growth, abundance of peaches and Bartlett-pears to supplement the grapes ripening on the roof of the old home.

"I say, Chris," said Ned, with his mouth full, or nearly so, of juicy pear, "is this all a dream?"

"My peach tastes just like a real one," was the reply. "But I say, father, the fruit never used to grow like this."

"No, my boy," said the doctor; "I feel half stunned in my surprise. A complete change seems to have come over everything. The weeds and wild things have run rampant, but the fruit-trees, such as I can see, all look clean and free from blight."

"Say, neighbour," cried Griggs, "I'm going over to my place now, if some one else will help at the clearance. These grapes, you know."

"They're splendid," said the doctor. "What about them?"

"Why, this," said Griggs; "I planted lots, and they'd never grow any more than my oranges would."

"Oranges!" cried Chris. "Here, father, we haven't looked at our grove."

"Come on with me, then," said Griggs, "and we'll take it on the way. I want to see mine too. As to the grapes, if yours'll grow like this so ought mine; and if they have—But wait a bit."

All mounted again, to make their mustangs breast their way in the direction of the dried-up peach and orange-grove which they had toiled over in despair, and at the first glance a shout of delight arose.

"Why, father," cried Chris, "what was the good of going there through thirst and starvation to find phantom gold when it is glowing and growing, and breaking down the branches here?"

For it was a golden sight indeed for weary, longing and disappointed eyes.

Progress was difficult after they had literally gloated over the beauty and promise of the orange-grove, for the tracks were wonderfully grown over, everything showing that the settlement must have been forsaken almost directly after the departure of the adventurers. Then Griggs' plantation was reached and found to be as full of promise as that which they had so lately quitted; and this proved to be the case wherever they rode, for the change everywhere was complete, the crops, as far as the encroaching wildings would allow, being abundant, but not a hand left to gather, those whom the party had known having forsaken the place to a man.

The rest of the day was devoted to cleaning and making the old home suitable for temporary if not for permanent habitation. Creeper and vine had to be cut back, so as to admit light and clear the choked-up chimney, while with the growth endless intruders, insect, reptile, and bird, were banished. The remaining stores, now very low, were brought in, and what all declared to be a very jovial supper prepared and most thoroughly enjoyed.

"One never knows what a day will bring forth," cried Bourne, smiling upon his listeners. "Here we were this morning weary and despondent, looking forward to someone taking us in to-night by way of charity, while now we find that we have fallen on our feet, and are quite at home in the midst of abundance."

"Yes," said Wilton; "I've seen enough to prove that Nature has retaken possession here, and that an hour with a gun will give us all we want to-morrow in the way of game."

"Yes," cried Chris; "and look there, Ned—fish."

"What about them?"

"The river's full, and I saw plenty leaping, waiting for rod and line or net."

"That's good," cried Ned.

"Oh yes; we shan't starve," said Griggs. "But let's see, how far used we to be from the other settlement?"

"Forty miles," replied the doctor.

"But suppose that is deserted, the same as this?"

"Then we shall be quite a hundred from the next."

"A hundred," said Griggs dryly. "Well, that seems horribly close and crowding one up like after living as we've been lately. It seems to me that if we liked to stop here now we might have the pick of the whole place, and as many patches as we like to take up."

"What about the old owners?" said Bourne.

"They've thrown up the game and gone—back to England, perhaps. I don't believe any one is ever likely to put in claims, but we could soon get that settled by the State law. I've nearly made up my mind to start afresh, doctor. You see, everything is going to be quite different; but there's one thing I can't understand. Climates don't change all at once, but here's this place boiling over, as one might say, with plenty now, while a few years ago we were only able to grow enough to feed the insects and blight. How do you account for that?"

"I can only give you what I surmise to be the case," replied the doctor. "We were tempted here by seeing how beautiful and fruitful everything was."

"Yes; everything but what we planted, and that tried to die out of the way as fast as it could. Well, sir, how was that?"

"Simply because the things we planted were strange to the land. All they wanted was time—years in which to root down to the best soil. If we had waited longer they would have appeared as good as they are now."

"That sounds well, sir," said Griggs, "and I should like to hear a little more about it, but I think we've got as much to think about as we can bear to-night. What say you?"

"That I shall be thankful for a good night's rest," was the reply, and soon after all was silent within the lonely ranch, both the lads lying listening to the varied sounds without, for to one of them it seemed as if all the wild creatures of the forest were holding a meeting to inquire into the fresh invasion of a tract of land out of which they had been driven years before, but to which they had returned upon its being deserted, while now the question was in respect of a new invasion, and whether those who had taken possession intended to stay.



CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

LIKE TO GO AGAIN?

Chris Lee had the impression next morning that he had lain for hours listening to the strange cries of wild creatures which had once more made the plantations their home, and he smiled at the idea that had come to him respecting a meeting, when he rose from the blanket and saddle bed, upon which he had slept better than he remembered ever to have done in his life.

His first look was at the place Ned had occupied; but he was already gone, and upon hurrying out he came upon him just visible as he forced his way through the tall growth with an orange in each hand and half-a-dozen tucked into his breast.

"Morning," he shouted. "I've been down to the river. It seems full of fish."

"That's good news," cried Chris. "Isn't it? But look here, there'll be a long talk over breakfast this morning about—Seen Griggs?"

"No. But why will they talk about him over breakfast?"

"Stuff! I didn't mean that. He came to the river with me, and he's gone now to light a fire and boil the kettle. He wants to talk to you as he did to me."

"What about?"

"What about? Why, about this place. He's red-hot over it, and says it would be madness to go away now and give up real gold for what may after all be nothing better than a dream. What do you think?"

"I?" said Chris, laughing. "That I've had enough fighting and tramping to last me for many years to come."

"Then if I say I'll stay, will you?"

"I don't know yet," said Chris.

"What! Why, you're never going to run back?"

"I'm not going to run back, nor run forward," replied Chris. "I'm going to do just what my father does, and in spite of your talk I believe you'll stand by Mr Bourne."

"Of course," cried Ned; "but he's sure to say he'll stay. There's only your father and Wilton on the other side, so we shall be four to two if you'll stand by me. Now what do you say?"

"Nothing at present; let's wait."

Ned pressed for a definite promise, but Chris remained firm and went to help Griggs in his preparation of the first breakfast that had been eaten upon the old hearth for two years.

It was rough; but appetite would have made up for that, only it seemed wanting, and the steaming coffee and tough damper bread remained almost untasted for a time, every one being thoughtful and silent.

At last the doctor spoke.

"Look here," he said, "I've got something upon my mind, and judging from your looks it seems to me that every one is not only troubled in the same way, but eager to get that something off. Am I right in coming to the conclusion that you are all thinking of the same thing?"

"I guess I am," said Griggs.

"I'm sure I am," said Bourne.

"I'm thinking that the sooner we get to work the better," said Wilton.

"That's soon settled, then," said the doctor, "for there is no occasion to ask the boys—it's written plainly in both their faces. We all think that it would be madness to talk of leaving such a home as we can make of this."

"All!" came in chorus, and then the appetite for breakfast, while they worked afterwards as they had never worked before to master and drive back the encroaching forest; fetch stores with their mule-train from the distant port; rebuild and restore; and in due time plant, gather, and farm, to provide the necessaries of life, till Golden Hollow, as it was renamed, became a veritable Eden—a home which, attracted others, till as time went on the peril finders' struggle to grasp at the phantom gold seemed to grow more and more like some exciting dream.

"Ever think of the shooting now, boys?" said Griggs one day, as he stood by the side of the great green basket of fruit he had gathered and just set down, to turn over some half-a-dozen that were beginning to glow like gold.

"Not often," said Ned, "but it will come at times."

"Do you?" said Griggs, turning to Chris, who looked thoughtful.

"Yes: I did only yesterday," was the reply. "I was at the bottom of the big peach-orchard, when I regularly jumped, for there was a sharp whizz close to my ear, and I began to think of the Indians hiding behind every bush."

"But it couldn't have been an arrow," cried Griggs.

"No; only a hawk making a dash at one of those blue-breasted birds; but it set me thinking of arrows flying, and using one's rifle too."

"Ah, rough times those," said Griggs, picking up two oranges, and then a third, to keep them, juggler fashion, following one another through the air. "Like to go again?"

"No!" shouted Chris and Ned together, in a way which disconcerted the juggler so that the oranges all came down, to be picked up quickly, as the American said sharply—

"Same here. Once was enough."

THE END.