By Turning
Squarely About And Looking Backwards, The Misplaced Objects
Become Righted, And Produces Much The Same Sensation That A Man
Feels Who Is Lost And Suddenly Finds Himself Again.
We immediately prepared to drive out to the ranch, which was ten
miles distant and reached by a road that skirted the Dos Cabezas
mountains.
The new wagon was set up and put in running order and
lightly loaded with supplies. All of the preliminaries being
completed, the horses were harnessed and hooked to the wagon.
The driver mounted his seat, drew rein and cracked his whip, but
we didn't go. The horses were only accustomed to the saddle and
knew nothing about pulling in harness. Sam was a condemned
cavalry horse and Box was a native bronco, and being hitched to a
wagon was a new experience to both. The start was unpropitious,
but, acting on the old adage that "necessity is the mother of
invention," which truth is nowhere better exemplified than on the
frontier where conveniences are few and the most must be made of
everything, after some delay and considerable maneuvering we
finally got started.
The road for some distance out was level and smooth and our
progress satisfactory. As we drove leisurely along I improved
the opportunity to look about and see the sights. It was a
perfect day in April and there never was a brighter sky nor
balmier air than beamed and breathed upon us. The air was soft
and tremulous with a magical light that produced startling
phantasmagoric effects.
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