Restless Jerry tried the fishing again, and as
before, success came his way.
"I'd give something to have my little _Red Rover_ here, in that swift
water," sighed Bluff, as he and Frank sat on the edge of the bluff,
listening to the rush of the river while it sped on its way to the lower
country.
"Well, a canoe might be fine for shooting downstream, but I don't
believe you'd find it as safe in the rapids as those hide boats. The
rocks can't smash in their sides, like cedar or canvas craft. Better to
do as the natives do, I find, whenever I go anywhere. They know by
experience what's best," returned Frank wisely.
"Look there! A cowboy coming like the wind up the river, waving his hat
over his head! Say! d'ye suppose anything's gone wrong at the ranch, and
we'll have to cut our hunt short?" exclaimed Bluff anxiously.
"Oh, I guess not. You see, those fellows are built that way. They never
can do anything without excitement. See! He's holding up something that
looks like a mail pouch," said Frank composedly.
"Why, of course that's it! I heard Mr.
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