about eleven o'clock
The horse , Buck , was hard to catch this second morning . Whether some hills that we were now in had excited him , or whether the better water up here had caused an effervescence in his spirits , I can not say . But I was as hot as July by the time we had him safe in harness , or , rather , unsafe in harness . For Buck , in the mysterious language of horses , now taught wickedness to his side partner , and about eleven o'clock they laid their evil heads together and decided to break our necks . We were passing , I have said , through a range of demi-mountains . It was a little country where trees grew , water ran , and the plains were shut out for a while . The road had steep places in it , and places here and there where you could fall off and go bounding to the bottom among stones .