It was cold enough to make the fire acceptable, but nothing like the morning before on Buckskin.
"Come to the festal board," drawled Jim, almost before I had my boots laced.
"Jones," said Frank, "Jim an' I'll ooze round here to-day.

There's lots to do, an' we want to have things hitched right before we strike for the Siwash.

We've got to shoe Old Baldy, an' if we can't get him locoed, it'll take all of us to do it." The light was still gray when Jones led off with Don, Wallace with Sounder and I with Moze.

Jones directed us to separate, follow the dry stream beds in the ravines, and remember his instructions given the night before.
The ravine to the right, which I entered, was choked with huge stones fallen from the cliff above, and pinyons growing thick; and I wondered apprehensively how a man could evade a wild animal in such a place, much less chase it.

Old Moze pulled on his chain and sniffed at coyote and deer tracks.