We were all perfectly stiff after luncheon, and Aggie was sulking also.  Bill was compelled to lift us into our saddles, and again we started up and up.  The trail was now what he called a “switchback.”  Halfway up Aggie refused to go farther, but on looking back decided not to return either.

“I shall not go another step,” she called.  “Here I am, and here I stay till I die.”

“Very well,” Tish said from overhead.  “I suppose you don’t expect us all to stay and die with you.  I’ll tell your niece when I see her.”

Aggie thought better of it, however, and followed on, with her eyes closed and her lips moving in prayer.  She happened to open them at a bad place, although safe enough, according to Bill, and nothing to what we were coming to a few days later.  Opening them as she did on a ledge of rock which sloped steeply for what appeared to be several miles down on each side, she uttered a piercing shriek, followed by a sneeze.  As before, her horse started to run, and Aggie is, I believe Bill said, the only person in the world who ever took that place at a canter.

We were to take things easy the first day, Bill advised.  “Till you get your muscles sort of eased up, ladies,” he said.  “If you haven’t been riding astride, a horse’s back seems as wide as the roof of a church.  But we’ll get a rest now.  The rest of the way is walking.”

“I can’t walk,” Aggie said.  “I can’t get my knees together.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” said Bill.  “We’re going down now, and the animals has to be led.  That’s one of the diversions of a trip like this.  First you ride and than you walk.  And then you ride again.  This here’s one of the show places, although easy of access from the entrance.  Be a good place for a holdup, I’ve always said.”

“A holdup?” Tish asked.  Her enthusiasm seemed to have flagged somewhat, but at this she brightened up.

“Yes’m.  You see, we’re near the Canadian border, and it would be easy for a gang to slip over and back again.  Don’t know why we’ve never had one.  Yellowstone can boast of a number.”

I observed tartly that I considered it nothing to boast of, but Bill did not agree with me.

“It doesn’t hurt a neighborhood none,” he observed.  “Adds romance, as you might say.”

He went on and, happening to slide on a piece of shale at that moment, I sat down unexpectedly and the horse put its foot on me.

I felt embittered and helpless, but the others kept on.

“Very well,” I said, “go on.  Don’t mind me.  If this creature wants to sit in my lap, well and good.  I expect it’s tired.”

But as they went on callously, I was obliged to shove the creature off and to hobble on.  Bill was still babbling about holdups, and Aggie was saying that he was sunstruck, but of course it did not matter.

We made very slow progress, owing to taking frequent rests, and late in the afternoon we were overtaken by Mr. Bell, on foot and carrying a pack.  He would have passed on without stopping, but Aggie hailed him.