TAKING TO THE TRAIL 13 



nothing but a rope around his neck and without 

 bit. Amiable as he appeared, the white showed 

 very prominently in a corner of each eye, and 

 this led me to be suspicious that he might pos- 

 sess questionable traits. He proved, however, 

 to be active, fearless, and gentle as a kitten, and 

 I purchased him. 



Button was my pony's name. It developed 

 that he had a great deal of individuality, and I 

 shall refer to him again, for we became very 

 much attached to each other and were constant 

 companions during my entire journey. Like all 

 the horses of this region, he began life as a 

 wild horse on the open range, and, until he was 

 roped and made captive, foraged his living, 

 winter and summer, without the care of man 

 and as free as the wild deer of the hills he 

 roamed. 



At five o'clock in the evening we entered the 

 quaint little frontier village of Pinedale — a 

 day's drive of nearly half a hundred miles. 

 Pinedale has a population of seventy-seven. 

 With the exception of one roomy frame dwell- 

 ing, the houses, scattered among the pines, are 

 primitive log cabins, with immense stone chim- 

 neys plastered with mud. 



The frame dwelling is the home of Mormon 

 Bishop E. M. Thomas, and here I found wel- 



