Every moment he expected to see the black pony lose his foothold and fall to the rock-covered ground below him. His expectations, however, were not fulfilled, for the sure-footed animal, scarcely pausing in his flight, steadily continued on his way. At one place Reuben saw him leap across a narrow ravine and without any slip regain his footing on the opposite side. Although the young trapper’s admiration of the horse increased, he was now well-nigh hopeless that the animal ever could be taken. Indeed it was not long before the horse disappeared from sight, and Reuben was unable to determine which of the numerous gorges he had entered, as several converged at the point where the black leader was lost to sight. It was impossible for Reuben’s horse to attempt to follow. Not only was the leap from the rock one which few animals would be able to make with safety, but also the nearly exhausted condition of his mount made such an attempt worse than reckless. There was nothing to be done except to return and join his companions. “Did you get him, Reuben?” inquired Kit Carson dryly, as the young trapper, discovering his friend, rode slowly to meet him. “No, I didn’t,” said Reuben glumly. “I’m surprised. Still, when we have him broken, I think you’ll enjoy a spin on that black demon as much as any of us.” “If you ever take him,” suggested Reuben dryly. “Why,” said Kit Carson in apparent surprise, “you haven’t any question about that, have you? Of course we’re going to take him.” “Not to-day,” suggested Reuben. “No, not to-day,” acknowledged the scout; “but there are other days to come.” “Do you believe that that black leader, after to-day’s chase, will stay around this part of the country any longer? He will take his followers and start for some other part of the mountains.” “Perhaps he will,” acknowledged Kit Carson, “but before that time comes we’ll have another chance at him.” “You never can take him,” asserted Reuben. “I never in my life saw anything run the way that pony did. And it doesn’t make any difference whether he’s running on the plains or along a ledge of the rocks. Why, he followed a narrow little ledge for three hundred yards. I expected every minute to see him tumble into the bed of the stream that was twenty-five or thirty feet below him. As far as I could see he didn’t slip once.” “Oh, yes, he’s a wonderful animal,” said Kit Carson quietly, “and we shall appreciate him all the more after we have had a chance to break him in.” “You won’t break him in very soon,” said Reuben, shaking his head. “You stand just about as much chance of getting that black horse as you do of grabbing a streak of lightning by its tail.” Kit Carson smiled and made no response to the assertion of his young companion, and then at his suggestion they all started on their way back to camp. In silence the men advanced, and when two hours had elapsed, Kit Carson suggested: “I think I’ll go over to the Indian village. Do you want to come, Reuben?”