deep snows in the Rocky
Mountains, where the animals could get no forage, and Billy, in common
with the others, at length became so weak and jaded that he was unable
any longer to leave his place in the caravan and break a track through
the snow around to the front. He made frequent attempts to turn out and
force his way ahead, but after numerous unsuccessful efforts he would
fall down exhausted, and set up a most mournful braying.

The other mules soon began to fail, and to be left, worn out and
famished, to die by the wayside; it was not, however, for some time
that Billy showed symptoms of becoming one of the victims, until one
evening after our arrival at camp I was informed that he had dropped
down and been left upon the road during the day. The men all deplored
his loss exceedingly, as his devotion to the mare had touched their
kind hearts, and many expressions of sympathy were uttered around their
bivouac fires on that evening.

Much to our surprise, however, about ten o'clock, just as we were about
going to sleep, we heard a mule braying about half a mile to the rear
upon our trail. Sure enough, it proved to be Billy, who, after having
rested, had followed upon our track and overtaken us. As soon as he
reached the side of the mare he lay down and seemed perfectly
contented.

The next day I relieved him from his pack, and allowed him to run
loose; but during the march he gave out, and was again abandoned to his
fate, and this time we certainly never expected to see him more. To our
great astonishment, however, about twelve o'clock that night the
sonorous but not very musical notes of Billy in the distance aroused us
from our slumbers, and again announced his approach. In an instant the
men were upon their feet, gave three hearty cheers, and rushed out in a
body to meet and escort him into camp.

But this well-meant ovation elicited no response from him. He came
reeling and floundering along through the deep snow, perfectly
regardless of these honors, pushing aside all those who occupied the
trail or interrupted his progress in the least, wandered about until he
found the mare, dropped down by her side, and remained until morning.

When we resumed our march on the following day he made another
desperate effort to proceed, but soon fell down exhausted, when we
reluctantly abandoned him, and saw him no more.

Alas! poor Billy! your constancy deserved a better fate; you may,
indeed, be said to have been a vic