88 SADDLE AND CAMP 



and shot him dead. The sheriff arrested his old 

 partner, but did not lock him up. "I knew 

 he'd show up for the trial," the sheriff told me, 

 "and I wouldn't lock up a man that had stood 

 up in a fight with me. Here in Arizona men 

 don't run away, just because they may be 

 hung." Pete, it is needless to say, was on hand 

 on the day set for trial and got twenty years at 

 hard labor. He is now serving his sentence in 

 the Arizona penitentiary. 



We had planned traveling, for a time at 

 least, with an outfit that had come up from the 

 Gila Valley, bound for Oregon. There were 

 two men, two women, and two children in 

 prairie schooners. Their crops had failed 

 them through dry weather and they were look- 

 ing for a new land of promise. They were not 

 quite ready to start, however, when we saddled 

 up "on Tuesday morning, and I never saw them 

 again. 



Northward from Winslow, Arizona, to Ka- 

 nab, Utah, winds the old Mormon emigrant 

 trail — traversing a desolate sand-drifted desert, 

 with long reaches between the few water holes. 

 This old trail, for many years fallen into dis- 

 use and much of it obliterated by sand piled 

 by the wind into great drifts like snow, might 

 tell stories of hope, ambition, misery, tragedy, 



