incrusted
slime, curling up in the fierce sunshine, and readily crushed under
foot, like frozen snow. The yellowish-white scales reflect the
sunlight, producing a painful effect on the eyes. Not many feet wander
to this forbidding sea of desolation.

At the border of this desert lake, a few feet higher than the water,
is a plateau of sand, covered with sage-brush and stones. We were
there in the last week of August. Fresh water was not to be had except
at a place a half-mile from our camp, where there was a seepage
spring. There we filled our canteens and buckets with enough for
supper and breakfast. The animals had to endure the night without
water.

Not far from the spring was situated a rude shack, known as "Black's
Trading Post." This establishment was constructed of scraps of rough
lumber, sticks, stones and cow-hides. With Mr. Black were two men,
said to be his helpers--helpers in what, did not appear. The principal
stock in trade was a barrel of whisky--reported to be of very bad
quality--some plug tobacco, and--not much else. Black's prices were
high. A sip from the barrel cost fifty cents. It was said to be an
antidote for alkali poisoning.

[Illustration: "A sip from the barrel cost fifty cents"]

Some of our men visited this emporium of the desert, and there they
found "Jim" Tooly. The barrel had been tapped in his behalf, and he
was loquacious; appearing also to be quite "at home" about the Post.
His two companions of our recent acquaintance were not there. The
"antidote" was working; Tooly was in good spirits, and eloquent. He
did not appear to recognize those of our people who were visiting the
place; but they knew him. There were other persons present from the
camps of two or three companies of emigrants, but strangers to us, who
were also stopping for the night at the margin of the Sink.

Tooly assumed an air of comradeship toward all, addressing various
individuals as "Partner" and "Neighbor"; but his obvious willingness
to hold the center of the stage made it clear that he deemed himself
the important personage of the community.

Some things he said were self-incriminating. He boasted of having
"done up a lot of Pikers, up the creek," declaring his intention to
"look up another lot of suckers" the following day.

When our men thought that they had heard enough they returned to camp
and reported.

Recollections of the last time we had seen Mr. Tooly made the present
occasion seem opportune.