ith the result, as we shall see, of missing my road
and losing considerable time, which meant not a little trouble and
anxiety.

[Illustration: To dig under was the only way to pass the obstruction.]

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

FINDING MY PEOPLE

ON leaving my newly found friends I faced a discouraging prospect. The
start for the high, arid table-lands bordering the Yakima valley cut me
loose from all communication. No more immigrants were met until I
reached the main-traveled route beyond the Columbia River.

The road lay through a forbidding sage plain, or rather an undulating
country, covered by shifting sands and dead grass of comparatively scant
growth. As the sun rose, the heat became intolerable. The dust, in
places, brought vivid memories of the trip across the Plains.

Strive against it as I might, my eyes would strain at the horizon to
catch a glimpse of the expected train. Then an intolerable thirst seized
upon me and compelled me to leave the road and descend into the valley
for water.

I dared not linger off the trail and take chances of missing the
expected train. So I went through another stretch of travel, of heat,
and of thirst, that lasted until during the afternoon, when I found
water on the trail. Tethering my pony for his much-needed dinner, I
opened my sack of hard bread to count the contents; my store was half
gone. I lay down in the shade of a small tree near the spring to take an
afternoon nap. Rousing before sundown, refreshed, Bobby and I took the
trail with new courage.

When night came, I could not find it in my heart to camp. The cool of
the evening invigorated the pony, and we pushed on. Finding that the
road could be followed, though but dimly seen, I kept on the trail until
a late hour, when I unsaddled and hobbled the pony. The saddle blanket
was brought into use, and I was soon off in dreamland forgetting all
about the dust, the trail, or the morrow.

In the morning I awoke to find that the pony had wandered far off on the
hillside, so far, in fact, that it required close scanning to discover
him. To make matters worse, his hobbles had become loosened, giving him
free use of all his feet, and he was in no mood to take the trail again.
Coaxing was of no avail, driving would do no good. Taking an opportunity
to seize his tail, I followed him around about over the plain and
through the sage brush at a rapid gait; finally he slackened pace and I
again became master.

[Il