and the lieutenant wished to save on water, for the climb.
He started them out again early, before sunrise. They headed for the Grand Peak. The horses were stiff, from the night, and thirsty, and moved slowly at first. Presently the sun rose. The Grand Peak flashed white in its beams, and assuredly was near. The foothills at its base were dark green: trees.
And there they stayed, the peak and the foothills, all day! Stub's eyes ached with gazing. Soldier Brown grumbled a little.
"It's a wild-goose chase. I've said that no man will ever climb yon peak. We'll wear out ourselves and our hosses for nothin'. Even if we ever reach the foot of it, look what's ahead of us."
"You may be sure the cap'n'll climb it, whether or no," retorted soldier Miller. "He's set out to do it, and do it he will."
"Oh, well; we're gettin' into a more likely country, anyhow," John granted. "The sign is better—that's one comfort."
This was true. They were entering among low hills, covered with cedars and pines. Up and down, up and down, and winding over and through, they hopefully pushed on—and from each rise they might see the long dark-green slope of the Grand Peak
