BEFORE the first streak of dawn I was up and off to hunt forthe horses and mules, which were now allowed to roam insearch of feed. On my return, the men were afoot, taking iteasy as usual. Some artemisia bushes were ablaze for themorning's coffee. No one but Fred had a suspicion of thecoming crisis. I waited till each one had lighted his pipe;then quietly requested the lot to gather the provision packstogether, as it was desirable to take stock, and make someestimate of demand and supply. Nothing loth, the men obeyed.

　　'Now,' said I, 'turn all the hams out of their bags, and letus see how long they will last.' When done: 'What!' Iexclaimed, with well - feigned dismay, 'that's not all,surely? There are not enough here to last a fortnight.

　　Where are the rest? No more? Why, we shall starve.' Themen's faces fell; but never a murmur, nor a sound. 'Turn outthe biscuit bags. Here, spread these empty ham sacks, andpour the biscuit on to them. Don't lose any of the dust. Weshall want every crumb, mouldy or not.' The gloomy facesgrew gloomier. What's to be done?' Silence. 'The firstthing, as I think all will agree, is to divide what is leftinto nine equal shares - that's our number now - and let eachone take his ninth part, to do what he likes with. Youyourselves shall portion out the shares, and then draw lotsfor choice.'

　　This presentation of the inevitable compelled submission.

　　The whole, amounting to twelve light mule packs (it had beenfifteen fairly heavy ones after our purchases at FortLaramie), was still a goodly bulk to look at. The ninepeddling dividends, when seen singly, were not quite what theshareholders had anticipated.

　　Why were they still silent? Why did they not rebel, andvisit their wrath upon the directors? Because they knew intheir hearts that we had again and again predicted thecatastrophe. They knew we had warned them scores and scoresof times of the consequences of their wilful and recklessimprovidence. They were stupefied, aghast, at the ruin theyhad brought upon themselves. To turn upon us, to murder us,and divide our three portions between them, would have beensuicidal. In the first place, our situation was as desperateas theirs. We should fight for our lives; and it was notcertain, in fact it was improbable, that either Jacob orWilliam would side against us. Without our aid - they hadnot a compass among them - they were helpless. The instinctof self-preservation bade them trust to our good will.

　　So far, then, the game was won. Almost humbly they askedwhat we advised them to do. The answer was prompt anddecisive: 'Get back to Fort Laramie as fast as you can.'

　　'But how? Were they to walk? They couldn't carry theirpacks.' 'Certainly not; we were English gentlemen, and wouldbehave as such. Each man should have his own mule; each,into the bargain, should receive his pay according toagreement.' They were agreeably surprised. I then verystrongly counselled them not to travel together. Pastexperience proved how dangerous this must be. To avoid thetemptation, even the chance, of this happening, the surestand safest plan would be for each party to start separately,and not leave till the last was out of sight. For my part Ihad resolved to go alone.

　　It was a melancholy day for everyone. And to fill the cup ofwretchedness to overflowing, the rain, beginning with adrizzle, ended with a downpour. Consultations took placebetween men who had not spoken to one another for weeks.

　　Fred offered to go on, at all events to Salt Lake City, ifNelson the Canadian and Jacob would go with him. Botheagerly closed with the offer. They would be so much nearerto the 'diggings,' and were, moreover, fond of their leader.

　　Louis would go back to Fort Laramie. Potter and Morris wouldcross the mountains, and strike south for the Mormon city iftheir provisions and mules threatened to give out. Williamwould try his luck alone in the same way. And there remainedno one but Samson, undecided and unprovided for. The strongweak man sat on the ground in the steady rain, smoking pipeafter pipe; watching first the preparations, then thedepartures, one after the other, at intervals of an hour orso. First the singles, then the pair; then, late in theafternoon, Fred and his two henchmen.

　　It is needless to depict our separation. I do not thinkeither expected ever to see the other again. Yet we partedafter the manner of trueborn Britons, as if we should meetagain in a day or two. 'Well, good-bye, old fellow. Goodluck. What a beastly day, isn't it?' But emotions are onlypartially suppressed by subduing their expression. Thehearts of both were full.

　　I watched the gradual disappearance of my dear friend, andthought with a sigh of my loss in Jacob and Nelson, the twobest men of the band. It was a comfort to reflect that theyhad joined Fred. Jacob especially was full of resource;Nelson of energy and determination. And the courage and cooljudgment of Fred, and his presence of mind in emergencies,were all pledges for the safety of the trio.

　　As they vanished behind a distant bluff, I turned to thesodden wreck of the deserted camp, and began actively to packmy mules. Samson seemed paralysed by imbecility.

　　'What had I better do?' he presently asked, gazing with dulleyes at his two mules and two horses.

　　'I don't care what you do. It is nothing to me. You hadbetter pack your mules before it is dark, or you may losethem.'

　　'I may as well go with you, I think. I don't care much aboutgoing back to Laramie.'

　　He looked miserable. I was so. I had held out under a longand heavy strain. Parting with Fred had, for the moment,staggered my resolution. I was sick at heart. The thoughtof packing two mules twice a day, single-handed, weakened asI was by illness, appalled me. And though ashamed of theperversity which had led me to fling away the better andaccept the worse, I yielded.

　　'Very well then. Make haste. Get your traps together. I'lllook after the horses.'

　　It took more than an hour before the four mules were ready.

　　Like a fool, I left Samson to tie the led horses in a string,while I did the same with the mules. He started, leading thehorses. I followed with the mule train some minutes later.

　　Our troubles soon began. The two spare horses were nearly aswild as the mules. I had not got far when I discernedthrough the rain a kicking and plunging and generalentanglement of the lot ahead of me. Samson had fastened thehorses together with slip knots; and they were all doingtheir best to strangle one another and themselves. To leavethe mules was dangerous, yet two men were required to releasethe maddened horses. At last the labour was accomplished;and once more the van pushed on with distinct instructions asto the line of march, it being now nearly dark. The muleshad naturally vanished in the gloom; and by the time I wasagain in my saddle, Samson was - I knew not where. On and onI travelled, far into the night. But failing to overtake mycompanion, and taking for granted that ............