and. Yu can't fool me none with
yore Gentile lies."

As I did not attempt, we remained in silence for a moment while he waited,
provocative.

"Say, Mister," he blurted suddenly. "Kin yu shoot?"

"I presume I could if I had to. Why?"

"Becuz I'm the dangest best shot with a Colt's in this hyar train, an'
I'll shoot ye for--I'll shoot ye for (he lowered his voice and glanced
about furtively)--I'll shoot ye for two bits when my paw ain't 'raound."

"I've no cartridges to waste at present," I informed. "And I don't claim
to be a crack shot."

"Damn ye, I bet yu think yu are," he accused. "Yu set thar like it. All
right, Mister; any time yu want to try a little poppin' yu let me know."
And with this, which struck me as a veiled threat, he lurched on,
snapping that infernal whip.

He left me with the uneasy impression that he and I were due to measure
strength in one way or another.

Wagon Boss Adams returned at noon. The word was given out that the train
should start during the afternoon, for a short march in order to break in
the new animals before tackling the real westward trail.

After a deal of bustle, of lashing loads and tautening covers and geeing,
hawing and whoaing, about three o'clock we formed line in obedience to the
commands "Stretch out, stretch out!"; and with every cask and barrel
dripping, whips cracking, voices urging, children racing, the Captain
Adams wagon in the lead (two pink sunbonnets upon the seat), the valorous
Daniel's next, and Mormons and Gentiles ranging on down, we toiled
creaking and swaying up the Benton road, amidst the eddies of hot,
scalding dust.

It was a mixed train, of Gentile mules and the more numerous Mormon oxen;
therefore not strictly a "bull" train, but by pace designated as such. And
in the vernacular I was a "mule-whacker" or even "mule-skinner" rather
than a "bull-whacker," if there is any appreciable difference in role.
There is none, I think, to the animals.

Trudging manfully at the left fore wheel behind Mr. Jenks' four span of
mules, trailing my eighteen-foot tapering lash and occasionally well-nigh
cutting off my own ear when I tried to throw it, I played the
teamster--although sooth to say there was little of play in the job, on
that road, at that time of the day.

The sun was more vexatious, being an hour lower, when we bravely entered
Benton's boiling main street. We made brief halt for the finishing up of
business; and cleaving a lane through the ped