To Leave
The Mules Was Dangerous, Yet Two Men Were Required To Release
The Maddened Horses.
At last the labour was accomplished;
and once more the van pushed on with distinct instructions as
to the line of march, it being now nearly dark.
The mules
had naturally vanished in the gloom; and by the time I was
again in my saddle, Samson was - I knew not where. On and on
I travelled, far into the night. But failing to overtake my
companion, and taking for granted that he had missed his way,
I halted when I reached a stream, threw off the packs, let
the animals loose, rolled myself in my blanket, and shut my
eyes upon a trying day.
Nothing happens but the unexpected. Daylight woke me.
Samson, still in his rugs, was but a couple of hundred yards
further up the stream. In the afternoon of the third day we
fell in with William. He had cut himself a long willow wand
and was fishing for trout, of which he had caught several in
the upper reaches of the Sweetwater. He threw down his rod,
hastened to welcome our arrival, and at once begged leave to
join us. He was already sick of solitude. He had come
across Potter and Morris, who had left him that morning.
They had been visited by wolves in the night, (I too had been
awakened by their howlings,) and poor William did not relish
the thought of the mountains alone, with his one little white
mule - which he called 'Cream.' He promised to do his utmost
to help with the packing, and 'not cost us a cent.' I did
not tell him how my heart yearned towards him, and how
miserably my courage had oozed away since we parted, but made
a favour of his request, and granted it.
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