ully
determined to go on down the river.

The story of these two men is told by McMahon in the following
interesting letter.

* * * * *

Dear Manley:--

Yours requesting me to give you a synopsis of the history of incidents,
experience, and observations of our mutual friend, Richard Field and
myself, from the time you, John Rogers, Alfred Walton, and the Hazelrig
brothers left us at the camp of the generous old chief Walker on the
west bank of the river near the mouth of the "great seven days canon" is
at hand.

You no doubt distinctly, and with pleasure, remember that unbroken
friendship which existed among us up to the time of our separation and
that we parted warm and tried friends.

Well, after you and your companions had left us we set to work to
prepare the canvas for the continuation of the voyage down the river. We
drilled holes through the sides of the "Pilot"--you, I have no doubt
remember which that was, yours and mine, in which we took so many
fearful risks, and "No. 2," so that we might in case of necessity lash
the two together. After a day or two Field lost courage and finally
determined to go no further down the river. Walker in the meantime had
repeated his friendly warnings appertaining to the great danger in going
further down the river. You will remember what he had told us about it
before you left us.

You know that I was the biggest coward of the whole seven; but I assumed
courage and told Field that I would go down the river alone; and, for a
time, I thought I would do so; but after some reflection I concluded
that, perhaps, discretion was the better part of valor, and reluctantly
gave it up. We now decided to follow you, or to take some other unknown
route and try to make our escape out of this most perilous condition.

We then set about, as you had done, to trade with Walker for a pony or
two, and after much dickering Field succeeded in getting the, afterwards
famous, big, old, sore-backed mule. You may not remember him, but I do;
and, notwithstanding his sore back, he made pretty good beef. I, with
pins, needles, thread, a pocket-knife, a handkerchief, etc., succeeded
in getting a very nice, round, three-year-old, iron-gray pony.

After making pack-saddles, and getting almost ready to start, we were,
through Walker's kindness and persuasiveness, overcome, and consented to
go with him, feeling confident that we would not starve to death while
with him.