CHAPTER VIII

HORSESHOE VALLEY NEXT morning the campers were early astir. Breakfast was disposed of as soon as possible, and the horses were saddled, the pack-pony being loaded with as many necessaries as they could spare from the base-camp. The dew was still on the grass as they mounted and rode away. Spiders’ webs, bespangled with a thousand diamond drops, festooned the bushes, drawing a gleaming veil over trails of clematis and wild convolvulus: and all about them birds twittered their morning song. It was a day of clear suns…