lossie, or Mamie, or
Lily. So we named her that.

At first hers was the attitude of the timid and shrinking tenderfoot.
She stood in awe of her companions; she appreciated her lack of
experience. Humbly she took the rear; slavishly she copied the other
horses; closely she clung to camp. Then in a few weeks, like most
tenderfeet, she came to think that her short experience had taught her
everything there was to know. She put on airs. She became too cocky
and conceited for words.

Everything she did was exaggerated, overdone. She assumed her pack with
an air that plainly said, "Just see what a good horse am I!" She
started out three seconds before the others in a manner intended to
shame their procrastinating ways. Invariably she was the last to rest,
and the first to start on again. She climbed over-vigorously, with the
manner of conscious rectitude. "Acts like she was trying to get her
wages raised," said Wes.

In this manner she wore herself down. If permitted she would have
climbed until winded, and then would probably have fallen off somewhere
for lack of strength. Where the other horses watched the movements of
those ahead, in order that when a halt for rest was called they might
stop at an easy place on the trail, Lily would climb on until jammed
against the animal immediately preceding her. Thus often she found
herself forced to cling desperately to extremely bad footing until the
others were ready to proceed. Altogether she was a precious nuisance,
that acted busily but without thinking.

Two virtues she did possess. She was a glutton for work; and she could
fall far and hard without injuring herself. This was lucky, for she
was always falling. Several times we went down to her fully expecting
to find her dead or so crippled that she would have to be shot. The
loss of a little skin was her only injury. She got to be quite
philosophic about it. On losing her balance she would tumble
peaceably, and then would lie back with an air of luxury, her eyes
closed, while we worked to free her. When we had loosened the pack,
Wes would twist her tail. Thereupon she would open one eye inquiringly
as though to say, "Hullo! Done already?" Then leisurely she would
arise and shake herself.

IV

ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT

One truth you must learn to accept, believe as a tenet of your faith,
and act upon always. It is that your entire welfare depends on the
condition of your horses. They must, as a