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Updated: May 15, 2025
Bales and cases lie upon the bank, and are being loaded into bullock-carts or carried to the top of the "bund," as the bank is called, where pack-ponies are waiting to carry them to more distant destinations.
We rode back to our halting place to lunch or tiffen, or whatever it's called in these parts a sort of solid breakfast at one o'clock, on the side of the pony track; the Chinese pack-ponies wandered round eating bamboo leaves and tough looking reeds. Along the road we passed many groups of Kachins, all with swords and mild wondering eyes.
Miss Deringham noticed the man's eyes close a trifle, and fancied that very little would call the steely sparkle she had seen when the pack-ponies blocked the trail into them. "Well," he said quietly, "a friend of mine sent them me, and I believe they came from Cuba. We don't raise cigars of any kind in British Columbia." Miss Deringham saw her father's face, and felt quietly amused.
It came out on a ledge of the mountain, perhaps three hundred yards away, and proceeded, with great deliberation, to walk across a rock-slide. It paid no attention whatever to us and to the wild excitement which followed its discovery. Instantly, the three junior Rineharts were off their horses, and our artillery attack was being prepared. At the first shot, the pack-ponies went crazy.
Wilson or I felt very uneasy, for the Tibetan soldiers, with their clumsy matchlocks, long spears, and jewelled swords and daggers, were more picturesque than dangerous. Early the next morning we were roused by the distant sound of tinkling horse-bells. On looking out of the tent I saw a long row of pack-ponies heavily laden, escorted by a number of mounted soldiers with matchlocks and spears.
Then the long line of pack-ponies, sturdy and willing, and piled high with our food, our bedding, and our tents. And here, there, and everywhere, Joe, with the moving-picture camera. We were determined, this time, to have no repetition of the Glacier Park fiasco, where Bill, our cook, had deserted us at a bad time although it is always a bad time when the cook leaves. So now we had two cooks.
By an hour after dawn they were all on the move, and did not halt again till they reached the secluded hollow where the pack-ponies, securely hobbled, were quietly grazing. In a trice Me Dain had a fire blazing, and he and Buck soon made ready a good meal. When the meal was over they sat in the shade of a clump of bamboos and discussed affairs.
The pass leading over this range, through which the white crystalline flakes were driven wildly in one's face, was a half-moon of smooth rock actually worn away by the endless tramping of myriads of pack-ponies, who then were plodding through ruts of steps almost as high as their haunches.
My thoughts were mostly occupied with sorrow for beautiful Penetier. What a fiend Buell was! I had heard him say he would fire the slash, and he had kept his word. Half an hour passed. I saw a flash of gray down the canyon, and shouted in joy. But what I thought Dick and Hiram was a herd of deer. They were running wildly. They clicked on the stones, and scarcely swerved for the pack-ponies.
In a short time the Indians returned empty-handed. "No find bear," the chief said, "getting too dark to hunt. To-morrow morning try." Harry got up and went to the boats, and returned directly with a joint of meat. Tom looked up in surprise. "It is not from yours, Tom," Jerry said as he saw him looking at it. "We took the hind-quarters of the four pack-ponies, but left the others alone.
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