One morning, Bert and I decided to walk to the top of the bluff, where there was rumored to be an old outlaw hide-out. Uncle Giles asked us where we were headed, and we told him. He said, “You better pack a lunch and a canteen of water, that bluff is over 20 miles away.” It was hard to believe, but by noon, we were glad we listened to him. As we stopped to eat a sandwich and wash it down with a gulp of water we wondered why the bluff didn’t seem any closer. By early afternoon, we were at the base of a very large bluff. It took another two hours to reach the plateau. We had to camp out on the top of the bluff that night. We searched until the sun went down for any trace of the hide-out but there was no hide-out that we could find. Bert did find what was left of an old, rusted 45 and a horse shoe. We hadn’t planned on spending the night so we didn’t bring a tent or blankets, and it was going to be a cold night. There were so many animal sounds that night, we didn’t sleep a wink. We kept our rifles close by just in case. The next morning, just about sun-up, we heard a truck bouncing over the field. It was Giles come to take us home for breakfast. He said, “I hate eating alone.” We were only too happy to make his day.