on behind. I was mounted to ride on level
stretches of the road, or across streams, of which I had fully sixty
crossings to make.

White River on the upper reaches is a roaring torrent; the rush of
waters can be heard for a mile or more from the high bluff overlooking
the narrow valley. The river is not fordable except in low water, and
then in but few places. The river bed is full of stones worn rounded and
smooth and slippery, from the size of a man's head to large boulders,
thus making footing for animals uncertain. After my first experience, I
dreaded the crossings to come more than all else on the trip, for a
misstep of the pony's might be fatal.

The little fellow, Bobby, seemed to be equal to the occasion. If the
footing became too uncertain, he would stop stock still and pound the
water with one foot, then reach out carefully until he could find secure
footing, and finally move up a step or two. The water of the river is so
charged with sediment that the bottom cannot be seen; hence the
necessity of feeling the way. I soon learned that my pony could be
trusted on the fords better than I. Thereafter I held only a supporting,
not a guiding, rein and he carried me safely over all the crossings on
my way out.

Allan Porter lived near the first crossing. As he was the last settler I
should see and his the last place where I could get feed for my pony,
other than grass or browse, I put up for the night under his roof.

He said I was going on a "Tom Fool's errand," for my folks could take
care of themselves, and he tried to dissuade me from proceeding on my
journey. But I would not be turned back. The following morning I cut
loose from the settlements and plunged into the deep forest of the
mountains.

The road, if it could be called a road, lay in the narrow valley of
White River or on the mountains adjacent. In some places, as at Mud
Mountain, it reached more than a thousand feet above the river bed.
There were stretches where the forest was so dense that one could
scarcely see to read at midday, while elsewhere large burned areas gave
an opening for daylight.

During the forenoon of this day, in one of those deepest of deep
forests, Bobby stopped short, his ears pricked up. Just then I caught an
indistinct sight of a movement ahead, and thought I heard voices; the
pony made an effort to turn and bolt in the opposite direction. Soon
there appeared three women and eight children on foot, coming down the
road