The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1899-03-02

when our horses came TO sudden
halt. There was rush of feet, a
scrambling in the grass and bushes,
excited cries, and realized that our
two gailants had deserted US and were
in full cry after bunch of baby quails.
Old Flora took no interest in the chase,
so piodded forward. Having no re-
straining rein 1 could but cling to the
saddle horn and command her, in deep
tones, to halt, which she finally did.
The boys soon returned with a tiny
quail for our inspection. It was placed
in my hand and then shown to my
daughter, after which Chimmie, the
little dog, must needs have a peep att
Perhaps he thought it delicate titbit,
perhaps his dog nature merely asserted
itself; at any rate, no sooner did the
little head catch his eye than he made
a snap. That quail will never be
served on toast.
We halted again by the old orchard
and my son picked some apples, while
Arthur added a dozen shakes to
Reuoen's load, these being wanted in
the construction of our dinner table.
After fastening these onto the pack he
came to me and asked me if wanted
wild plum. These plums are small and
bitter, but held out my hand where
upon he placed in it great, lucious
nectarine. Here, in the bottom of this
rugged canyon, grows the most excel
lent fruit have had the good fortune
to sample, even in this land of princely
fruits, all varieties seeming to imbibe a
flavor which, in the valley orchards, is
entirely lacking.
On we went, down a steep pitch, and
across the cool, dark waters of Sulphur
creek, which tumbles noisily into the
larger stream few rods further on.
Up hill and down, across wooded flats
through rocky ravines for half mile.
Then the great, cavern pitted cliff
came pressing in toward the creek.
narrowing the canyon and forcing our
trail to pick it's way amid jagged
powders and through veritable thickets
of underbrush.
was directed to turn my sun bonnet
about with the cape to the front, so
that my face would be protected from
the swapping brush. l did so and found
it great help. / was always warned
when low limbs menaced me and told
to lean to the right or left, according
as the stiff clawed bushes reached out
toward from one side or the other.
Soon came a cry from the rear. My
bed was gone. No one had noticed the
pack since crossing Sulphur creek. We
alighted and rested while the boys
hunted up the truant and readjusted
the pack. To avoid another mishap of
the kind my daughter rode behind
Reuben the remainder of the journey.
Once my horse stopped at spot so
refreshingly cool that wondered at
the cause, until Bertstold me to put out
my left hand. did so and found my
self beside great, messy rock, which
lowered high above my head. Then |
understood as never before the comfort
and protection to be derived from
the shadow of great rock in a
weary land" All this time the deep
tones of the waters tumbling into their
rocky caverns, came echoing up from
the rugged stream on our right. At
length we passed above the dark, calm
pools, the haunt of the salmon, where
the turbulent waters made moments
rest before plunging once more into
the steep canyon below. At the lower
end of this level stretch was the ford.
The boys took off their shoes, rolled
up their overalls- probably delighted
at the pportunity waded. The
stream spreads out here to such a
width that it makes safe crossing
when all the rest of the middle course
is absolutely unfordable for man or
horse. Beyond the ford we clambered
up steep ascent, passed along a
sloping hill side, with more open
thickets Of live oak, picked our way
| through a densely shaded ravine,
wound down hill through thickets Of
dumped buckeye, came to a halt on
level ground, with the music of the
creek once more close at hand and we
we're at the camp.
RUBY 81. SAUBER.