ent of Portland which I understand is not far Below. With my
Means, we should soon be Handsomely Settled.

May God guard you on the Way Thither and believe me, Darling, with
more Love than I shall be ever able to Tell and a Thousand Kisses.

Your Affianced and Impatient Lover,
SAM'L. PAYSON WOODHULL.

The little sagebrush fire flared up brightly for an instant as Molly
Wingate dropped one of her letters on the embers.

CHAPTER XXXVII

JIM BRIDGER FORGETS

"What's wrong with the people, Cale?" demanded Jesse Wingate of his
stouthearted associate, Caleb Price. The sun was two hours high, but not
all the breakfast fires were going. Men were moody, truculent, taciturn,
as they went about their duties.

Caleb Price bit into his yellow beard as he gazed down the irregular
lines of the encampment.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth, Jesse?"

"Why, yes!"

"Well, then, it seems to me the truth is that this train has lost
focus."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I don't know that I'm right--don't know I can make my guess plain. Of
course, every day we lay up, the whole train goes to pieces. The thing
to do is to go a little way each day--get into the habit. You can't wear
out a road as long as this one by spurts--it's steady does it.

"But I don't think that's all. The main trouble is one that I don't like
to hint to you, especially since none of us can help it."

"Out with it, Cale!"

"The trouble is, the people don't think they've got a leader."

Jesse Wingate colored above his beard.

"That's pretty hard," said he.

"I know it's hard, but I guess it's the truth. You and I and Hall and
Kelsey--we're accepted as the chief council. But there are four of us,
and all this country is new to all of us. The men now are like a bunch
of cattle ready to stampede. They're nervous, ready to jump at anything.
Wrong way, Jesse. They ought to be as steady as any of the trains that
have gone across; 1843, when the Applegates crossed; 1846, when the
Donners went--every year since. Our folks--well, if you ask me, I really
think they're scared."

"That's hard, Cale!"

"Yes, hard for me to say to you, with your wife sad and your girl just
now able to sit up--yes, it's hard. Harder still since we both know it's
your own personal matter--this quarrel of those two young men, which I
don't need explain. That's at the bottom of the train's uneasiness."

"Well, they've both gone now."

"Yes, b