Just as the sun was sinking behind the Rockies he came out of a narrow ravine with the head of a large mountain sheep on his back. He gave it to me to carry behind my saddle, and with few words we mounted and set off at full speed for home, remembering the three men whom we had met on the prairie at noon, who had been lost for three days in the intricate passages of the Bad Lands. I did not like to think of trying to find the way there after night.
The Professor dashed over the prairie without once drawing rein, clearing bunches of cactus ten feet, sometimes, in diameter, at a single bound; and I followed suit. So, by a series of leaps, we crossed the ten-mile stretch and drew up at the head of a gorge, from which we could see Cow Island.
Cope eagerly scanned the lights of the little station, and finally decided that a new set had been added to those of the soldiers’ tents. He was sure that the long-expected steamer lay at her snubbing-post, and declared emphatically that we must reach Cow Island that night.
I knew the uselessness of trying to combat his iron will, but I pleaded with him against the folly of attempting to thread in the darkness those black and treacherous defiles, where a single misstep meant certain death. I begged him to wait until daylight. We were, to be sure, hungry and thirsty, and food, water, and shelter were to be had only at the river, but sleeping in our saddle blankets without supper was, I urged, preferable to running the risk of being dashed to pieces.
He paid no attention to what I said, but dismounting, led his horse into the canyon. He had to cut a stick to shove in front of him, as his eyes could not penetrate the darkness a single inch ahead. I cut another to punch along his horse, which did not want to follow him.
Sometimes when we had climbed down several hundred feet, the end of the Professor’s stick would encounter only air, and a handful of stones thrown ahead would be heard to strike the earth far below. Then we had to turn and climb back through the deep dust to the top, and circling a canyon, plunge down on the other side.
Once we got down to the river four miles from the prairie, and thought that our journey was over, as we could see the lights of the station just across the river. But when we had watered our thirsty horses and started down for the landing, we found our way blocked by a huge ridge with a towering precipice impinging on the river; and we had to drag ourselves back over those four long, hard miles to the prairie, and start again. I freely confess that I should have been willing to lie down in the dust just where I was, and let the horses look out for themselves, but Cope’s indomitable will could not be conquered. Back we climbed to the top, and down we went into the next ravine.