It cleared a perpendicular rock some twenty feet high and landed at its base, rolling over twice.

Then, to my amazement, it rose to its feet in the midst of its scattered cargo.

And do you know what that cargo consisted of ?--a case of dynamite and our tool chest! As fast as their legs could carry them, two Mexicans were by its side, promptly reloading the donkey and leading it up to the trail as coolly as if nothing had happened.

A very fine mule, raised on the plains of Arizona, was naturally giddy, and met with such a mishap three times in one day, tumbling down 150 to 200 feet without, however, being seriously hurt.

At first I was greatly shocked to see the animals thus rolling over and over with their packs, down the mountain sides, never stopping until checked by some large tree or rock, sometimes 200 feet below.