"Can you fish trout?" exclaimed Barbara, wonderingly.
"Can a bird fly?" laughed Anne.
"The idea! A westerner and _not_ know how to fish!" scorned Eleanor.
But Barbara was not sensitive to-day so did not feel offended at these
remarks; neither did she take pains to disguise her real sentiments
when it would have been kinder to keep silence on a subject.
Having reached the base of the cliff, the girls found a delightful spot
for the luncheon. The packs were slipped from Choko and he, with the
other mounts, were hobbled and left to graze on the buffalo grass in
the clearing.
The girls unpacked a pannier while Polly arranged her tackle and
started for the top of the cliff whence fell the water.
"Let me go with you, Poll, and watch?" asked Eleanor.
"If you won't speak, and mind you don't slip and fall!"
"I won't," promised Eleanor, crawling up after the sure-footed Polly
until both reached the top. To their surprise, the girls found a cleft
between two great rocks with a quiet pool resting at the base. The
current passed, rushing onward to the Falls, but the water circulating
in the nook scarcely rippled. Even as the two girls watched, a flash of
a speckled back flounced up in play and splashed their shoes.
"_What_ a spot for trout!" whispered Polly, crawling out to the rim of
a rock while Eleanor watched breathlessly.
"Not too far out, Poll!" whispered Eleanor, anxiously, as Polly leaned
over the edge to gaze into the clear depths.
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