not wish to be piloted
through the Colorado by a guide. We wanted to make our own trip in our
own way. If we failed, we would have no one but ourselves to blame; if
we succeeded, we would have all the satisfaction that comes from
original, personal exploration. In other words, we wanted a man to
execute orders, not to give them. But that man was hard to find!

There had been many applicants; some of them from distant parts of the
country. One by one they were sifted out. At length we decided on one
man; but later he withdrew. We turned elsewhere, but these
applications were withdrawn, until there remained but a single letter,
from a young man in San Francisco. He seemed in every way qualified.
We wrote accepting his application, but while waiting to hear from us
a civil service position had been offered and accepted. "He was
sorry"; and so were we, for his references proved that he was a
capable man. Later he wrote that he had secured a substitute. We
replied on the instant, by wiring money for transportation, with
instructions for the new man to report at once at Green River. We took
very much for granted, having confidence in our friends' sincerity and
knowledge of just what was required.

The time had passed, two days before; but--no sign of our man! We
wrote, we telegraphed, we walked back and forth to every train; but
still he did not come. Had this man, too, failed us?

Then "Jimmy" came--just the night before we were to leave. And never
was a man more heartily welcome!

With James Fagen of San Francisco our party was complete. He was an
Irish-American, aged 22 years, a strong, active, and willing chap. To
be sure, he was younger, and not so experienced at "roughing it" as we
had hoped. But his good qualities, we were sure, would make up for
what was lacking.

Evening found us encamped a half mile below the town, the county
bridge. Our preparations were finished--even to the final purchase of
odds and ends; with ammunition for shot-gun and rifle. We threw our
sleeping-bags on the dry ground close to the river's edge, and, all
our anxieties gone, we turned our faces to the stars and slept.

At daybreak we were aroused by the thunder of hoofs on the bridge
above us, and the shouts of cowboys driving a large herd of
half-broken horses. We tumbled into our clothes, splashed our faces
with ice-cold water from the river, and hurried over to the hotel for
a last breakfast.

Then we sat down--in the little hotel