The boy who led it, eager to do something, managed to get the halter off, so that there was nothing by which to hold the animal except its ears.

I held fast to one of these, steadying myself on the loose soil by grabbing a root sticking out of the ground.

The intelligent animal lay perfectly still over the trunk.

Finally I managed to get out my bowie-knife and cut the ropes off the pack, which rolled down the hill, while the mule, relieved of its bulky burden, scrambled to its feet and climbed up.

It was born and bred in the barranca, otherwise it would never have been able to accomplish this feat.
Toward evening we arrived at the section of a barranca called Ohuivo (Ovi = return, or "the place to which they returned") on the Rio Fuerte.