They lost none of their spirit, however, and when
the road was steepest nagged at each other with head-shakings and bared
teeth, and ducked against each other in pretended fright at every
unusual rock or bush.
At the top he was forced to drive a full half mile beyond the piled
posts to a flat large enough to turn around. All this took time,
especially since Caroline, the brown mare, would rather travel ten miles
straight ahead than go backward ten feet. Brit was obliged to "take it
out of her" with the rein ends and his full repertoire of opprobrious
epithets before he could cramp the wagon and head them down the trail
again.
At the post pile he unhitched the team for safety's sake and tied them
to trees, where he fed them a little grain in nose bags. He was absorbed
now in his work and thought no more about the Sawtooth. He fastened the
log chain to the rear wheels to brake the wagon on the long grade down
the canyon, loaded the wagon with posts, bound them fast with a lighter
chain he had brought for the purpose, ate his own lunch and decided
that, since he had made fair time and would arrive home too early to do
the chores and too late to start any other job, he would cruise farther
up the mountain side and see what was the prospect of getting out logs
enough for an addition to the cabin.
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