They soon headed down, and the end of their day’s work seemed close at hand.  It can be easily assumed that none of the boys were sorry.  Quite unused to riding, they began to feel the effects already.

“I’m glad it’s a camp after this.  I’ve sure got a cramp in my legs that it’ll take a long time to get out,” grunted Bluff.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, son.  Each time you ride you’ll notice that cramp less and less, until after a month you will be entirely free from it.  But here we are at our journey’s end, and I, for one, don’t feel sorry, because for ten minutes I’ve been scenting that coffee.  The boys have seen us coming, and started to have dinner cooked.”

It proved to be just as Mr. Mabie said.  A most appetizing camp dinner was ready for them when they arrived.  Perhaps Jerry and Frank may have thought it did not fully come up to some similar feasts they had helped prepare in the woods, but of course they never hinted at such a thing; for those cowboys, while the most accommodating of fellows, were also thin-skinned in some respects.

Will was fairly delighted at the romantic looks of the camp, back of which the waterfall came tumbling down.  He could hardly wait to eat his dinner before he set to work to secure a fac-simile of the picture, with the party gathered around the fire, and the three tents making a pleasing contrast to the dark green of the pinon trees.

Most of the party were contented to remain quiet during the balance of the day, but Bluff developed an unusually ambitious spirit for action.  Truth to tell, he secretly considered that his chums were having more than their share of good luck in making a record at bagging game, and thought it time he started in.

Mr. Mabie had made him accept the use of a spare hunting-knife.  It was a short, though serviceable weapon, and had doubtless done splendid execution in days gone by.  Bluff used to take it out when he thought no one was looking, run his finger over the keen edge, gaze sadly at the dim blade, and shake his head.  He could not get the memory of that other grand specimen of the cutler’s skill out of his mind, and his soul was filled with bitterness because of its strange absence.

“Look out for wolves!” called Reddy, but Bluff only waved his hand in derision as he walked away down the valley.

Of course, he knew that the stockmen were more or less troubled with these hungry marauders in the winter time, and often had to organize grand hunts in order to keep their number down; but it hardly seemed reasonable to expect trouble from such a source in the summer season.

Elk and moose had not as yet come under the protection of the game laws, so that they were at liberty to shoot what they pleased.  As a rule, however, Mr. Mabie did not believe in hunting such animals save in the fall of the year.

Bluff had asked numerous questions before leaving camp, so that he knew something about the lay of the land in the vicinity.  He had started out with all due regard to the way the wind was blowing, so as not to alarm any quarry that might be sniffing up the breeze.