to waste time or substance. Some of them
had expended their last dollar on the trail and were forced to sell
their horses for money to take them out of the country. Some of the
partnerships went to pieces for other causes. Long-smouldering
dissensions burst into flame. "The Swedes" divided and so did "The
Dutchman," the more resolute of them keeping on the main trail while
others took the trail to the coast or returned to the States.

Meanwhile, Ladrone and his fellows were rejoicing like ourselves in
fairly abundant food and in continuous rest. The old gray began to
look a little more like his own proud self. As I went out to see him
he came up to me to be curried and nosed about me, begging for salt.
His trust in me made him doubly dear, and I took great joy in
thinking that he, at least, was not doomed to freeze or starve in
this savage country which has no mercy and no hope for horses.

There was great excitement on the first Sunday following our going
into camp, when the whistle of a steamer announced the coming of the
mail. It produced as much movement as an election or a bear fight. We
all ran to the bank to see her struggle with the current, gaining
headway only inch by inch. She was a small stern-wheeler, not unlike
the boats which run on the upper Missouri. We all followed her down
to the Hudson Bay post, like a lot of small boys at a circus, to see
her unload. This was excitement enough for one day, and we returned
to camp feeling that we were once more in touch with civilization.

Among the first of those who met us on our arrival was a German, who
was watching some horses and some supplies in a big tent close by the
river bank. While pitching my tent on that first day he came over to
see me, and after a few words of greeting said quietly, but with
feeling, "I am glad you've come, it was so lonesome here." We were
very busy, but I think we were reasonably kind to him in the days
that followed. He often came over of an evening and stood about the
fire, and although I did not seek to entertain him, I am glad to say
I answered him civilly; Burton was even social.

I recall these things with a certain degree of feeling, because not
less than a week later this poor fellow was discovered by one of our
company swinging from the crosstree of the tent, a ghastly corpse.
There was something inexplicable in the deed. No one could account
for it. He seemed not to be a man of deep feeling. And one of the
last things