now.
During our three-days' camp we had a number of callers from other
trains, also six or eight Indians, among whom we divided such things as
we could not take with us.
In the evening of the last day, we made a rousing camp-fire out of our
wagon wheels, which we piled on top of each other, kindling a fire under
them, around which we became reminiscent and grew rested for an early
start on the morrow.
All things finally ready, we brought up the animals in the morning to
fit their saddles and packs to them. One very quiet animal was packed
with some camp-kettles, coffee-pots, and other cooking traps. As soon as
he was let loose and heard the tinware rattle he broke and ran, bringing
up in a quagmire up to his sides. The saddle had turned, and his hind
feet stepping into the pack well nigh ruined all our cooking utensils.
We managed to pull him out of the mire and quieted him down, but we
could never again put anything on him that rattled. We took our guns and
provisions and only such clothing as we had on, leaving all else behind.
I remember putting on a pair of new boots that I had brought from home,
which I did not take off until I had been some time in California, nor
any other of my clothes, lying down in my blanket on the ground, like
the rest of the animals.
As we turned out for noon, we saw off toward the mountain a drove of
eleven elk. I took my rifle and creeping behind rocks and through
ravines, tried to get in range of them, but with all my caution, they
kept just beyond my reach. But I had a little luck toward night just as
we were turning into camp. Out by a bunch of sagebrush sat the largest
jack rabbit I ever saw. I raised my rifle and hit him squarely in the
neck, killing him. I took him by the hind feet and slung him over my
shoulder, and as I hung hold of his feet in front, his wounded neck came
down to my heels behind. His ears were as long as a mule's ears. We
dressed it and made it into rabbit stew by putting into the kettle
first a layer of bacon and then one of rabbit, and then a layer of
dumpling, which we made from flour and water, putting in layer after
layer of this sort until our four camp-kettles were filled. We had a
late supper that night. It was between 9 and 10 o'clock before our stews
were done to a turn, but what a luscious feast was ours when they were
finally ready. I can think of no supper in my whole life that I have
enjoyed so much as I did that one. We had plenty left ov
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