e across, although the river was wide.
Dandy would do almost anything I asked of him; so, leading him to the
water's edge, with a little coaxing I got him into swimming water and
guided him across with the wagon bed. The others all followed, having
been driven into deep water after the leader. It seems almost incredible
how passively obedient cattle will become after long training on such a
journey. Indeed, the ox is always patient, and usually quite obedient;
but when oxen get heated and thirsty, they become headstrong and
reckless, and won't obey. I have known them to take off the road to a
water hole, when apparently nothing could stop them till they had gone
so far into the mud and water that it was a hard job for them to get out
again.

We had not finished crossing when tempting offers came from others to
cross them; but all our party said, "No, we must travel." The rule had
been adopted to travel some distance every day that it was possible.
"Travel, travel, travel," was the watchword, and nothing could divert us
from that resolution. On the third day we were ready to pull out from
the river, with the cattle rested by the enforced wait.

Now the question was, what about the lower crossing? Those who had
crossed over the river must somehow get back. It was less than a hundred
and fifty miles to the place where we must again cross to the south side
(the left bank) of the river. I could walk that distance in three days,
while it would take our teams ten. Could I go on ahead, procure a wagon
box, and start a ferry of my own? The thought brought an affirmative
answer at once.

With only food and a small blanket for load, I walked to the lower
crossing. It may be ludicrous, but it is true, that the most I remember
about that tramp is the jack rabbits. Such swarms, as I traveled down
the Boise valley, I had never seen before and I never saw again.

I soon obtained a wagon bed, and all day long for several days I was at
work crossing people. I continued at this till our teams came up, and
for a few days after that. I left the river with a hundred and ten
dollars in my pocket. All but two dollars and seventy-five cents of this
was gone before I arrived in Portland.

But we could not delay longer, even to make money. I thought I could see
signs of failing strength in my young wife and the baby. Not for
mountains of gold would we jeopardize their lives.

All along the way the baby and the little mother had been tenderl