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A Summer Outing and What Came of It
By ANTHONY W. IVINS
(The final story in this volume is a delightful and interesting account of a trip taken by Frank Anderson and George Reasoner into the Sierra Madre Mountains of Old Mexico. It is easy to see that George Reasoner is none other than the author himself, Anthony W. Ivins. In this story President Ivins is at his best. He found complete relaxation and enjoyment in a trip to the mountains; in the wild life and the plant growth as nature formed them.-P. N.)
IT was the first week in September. In the southland, at this season of the year, nature is at her best; just a tinge of autumn in the leaves, the flowers passing from perfection of bloom to seed, the gathering of nature's harvest.
Preparations for the outing were completed, and Frank Anderson and George Reasoner were ready to start into the mountains.
The outfit consisted of the usual personal effects, food, clothing, etc., two folding cots, with warm blankets, for it will be cold in the Sierra, a small tent of ten-ounce duck, two 30-30 Winchester rifles, a shot gun, plenty of ammunition, split bamboo fishing rods, automatic reels, silk lines, leaders, and a large assortment of artificial flies; hobbles and bells for the horses, chains for the dogs, pick, shovel and ax; cooking utensils, dishes, and an assortment of books.
All of this was loaded on a white top to which a medium span of horses was hitched, while a third horse, with a saddle on, was tied behind, and an extra saddle was lashed on the pack, to be used on one of the team horses, when the two men wished to ride together.
Three dogs watched every movement while preparations for the start were being made: Fleete, a liver and white pointer, eager, alert, her finely chiseled head and symmetrical body, the product of generations of careful breeding, showed great animation; Trailer, a spotted hound, with grave face and halfclosed eyes, appeared to pay little attention to his surroundings, but a close observer would note that nothing escaped him; it was dignity and not indifference which restrained him. The third dog was entirely different from his companions: they were both spotted, he was brown with regular white markings on his neck and breast; their hair was short and smooth, his long and shaggy; their heads were long with massive jaws and square nose, his broad between the ears and pointed at the nose; their ears were long and broad, his erect, with the ends slightly pendant. He was Laddie, the Scotch collie. Intelligent, alert, docile, but would never assume that which is not his own nor fail you in an emergency.
The first five miles of the journey, across the comparatively level plains, was devoid of interest. The mountain, as Frank had said, was just a blue mass of rocks and earth. As they drew nearer its aspect gradually changed; new forms appeared, the smooth outline became rugged, and what in the distance appeared to have been small bushes gradually developed into forests of pine and cedar.