The boy corporals and Brenda Arnold
climbed eminences, looked through clefts in precipices into the
sublime depths of the great canon, stood on the edge of craters of
extinct volcanoes, penetrated the mysterious caverns of the
cliff-dwellers, fished for trout in a mountain lake, caught axolotl in
a tank at the foot of San Francisco Mountain, shot turkeys, grouse,
and antelope, and enjoyed the march as only healthy youngsters can.
Brenda became a pupil of the boys in loading and firing their
revolvers, carbines, and fowling-pieces, and made many a bull's-eye
when firing at a mark, but invariably failed to hit anything living.
Henry said she was too tender-hearted to aim well at animals. That she
was no coward an incident to be told in a future chapter will prove.
When our train and its escort reached Fort Whipple, or, rather, the
site of that work--for we built it after our arrival--the Arnolds
caught up their cattle from our herd, and after a two weeks' stay in
Prescott removed to a section of land which they took up in Skull
Valley, ten miles to the west by the mountain-trail, and twenty-five
miles by the only practicable wagon-road.
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