Nearly Every Mile Of Road Traveled Had Been
At Some Time In The Past The Scene Of A Bloody Tragedy Enacted By
A Savage Foe.
Even at that very time the Apaches were out on the
warpath murdering people, but fortunately we did not meet them
and escaped unmolested.
The road now crossed a low hill, which was the signal for more
trouble. The team started bravely up the incline, but soon
stopped and then balked and all urging with whip and voice failed
to make any impression. After several ineffectual attempts to
proceed it was decided not to waste any more time in futile
efforts. The horses were unhitched and the wagon partly
unloaded, when all hands by a united pull and push succeeded in
getting the wagon up the hill. After reloading no difficulty was
experienced in making a fresh start on a down grade, but a little
farther on a second and larger hill was encountered, when the
failure to scale its summit was even greater than the first. No
amount of coaxing or urging budged the horses an inch. They
simply were stubborn and would not pull.
Night was approaching and camp was yet some distance ahead. The
driver suggested that the best thing to do under the
circumstances was for the rest of us to take the led horses and
ride on to camp, while he would remain with the wagon and, if
necessary, camp out all night. We reluctantly took his advice,
mounted our horses and finished our journey in the twilight.
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