He got up.
"Either Johnny or Buck," he said, "starting back home!"
Then commenced again that heart-breaking task of rounding up the horses.
That is a part of such an expedition. And, even at that, one escaped and
was found the next morning high up the cliffside, in a basin.
It was too late to put up all the tents that night. Mrs. Fred and I
slept in our clothes but under canvas, and the men lay out with their
faces to the sky.
Toward dawn a thunder-storm came up. For we were on the crest of the
Cascades now, where the rain-clouds empty themselves before traveling
to the arid country to the east. Just over the mountain-wall above us
lay the Pacific Slope.
The rain came down, and around the peaks overhead lightning flashed and
flamed. No one moved except Joe, who sat up in his blankets, put his hat
on, said, "Let 'er rain," and lay down to sleep again. Peanuts, the
naturalist's horse, sought human companionship in the storm, and
wandered into camp, where one of the young bear-hunters wakened to find
him stepping across his prostrate and blanketed form.
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