LIFE SKETCHES OF A JAYHAWKER 23 



broad plain trail that we knew must lead to settlements and we resolved to 

 follow it no matter where it lead. It took a southerly direction instead of 

 a westerly, but we were bound to stay with the trail. We found out after- 

 wards that this trail was made by the Owen River Indians, or Piutes, who 

 made raids into the large ranches of California and ran off hundreds of 

 head of horses at a single drive. The Spaniards were afraid to follow, as 

 they would be outnumbered. A year or so afterward I stayed overnight at 

 Williams Ranch, where there were thousands and thousands of cattle and 

 horses, and the owner told me that he had made a treaty with the chief of 

 the Indians, presenting him with a fine horse and silver-mounted saddle, 

 and the Indians always knew his brand after that and never troubled him. 



Manly and Rogers next morning took the trail and hurried, as they 

 were anxious to make the trip and get back to their company. We trav- 

 elled two more days, and then the trail ran right into an immense desert, 

 and we could scarcely see the mountains beyond. If the trail had not led 

 that way we never would have thought of facing such a dreary outlook. In 

 after years I found this was the Mohave Desert. Going on we found an 

 Immense lot of bones all along the trial. After two days of travel we came 

 to a spring right in the middle of the desert. There was quite a patch of 

 willows growing around the water, and plenty water for our use, although 

 it ran but a few rods and then sank into the sand. While here we killed 

 another ox, and prepared the meat for jerky. 



CHAPTER III. 



It proved to be a long way to the mountains, for we were three days 

 and nights making the trip. Our progress was slow, and there was much 

 suffering. Many could travel but a few hundred yards at a time, and so the 

 weaker ones were hours behind in getting into camp. When water was 

 found the smoke was made and this would put new life and energy into the 

 weak ones. One man named Robinson, had become so weak we had to put 

 him on a poor little mule we had. He said in the morning he couldn't make 

 it, but we thought he could on the mule. When within thirty or forty steps 

 of the camp fire he fell off. We tried to assist him, but he begged to be left 

 alone, saying he would come when rested. About fifteen minutes later, as 

 he hadn't come in, we went to get him and found him dead. The next 

 morning we buried him as best we could, for the ground was hard and rocky 

 and we only had our knives to dig with, and our hands to throw out the 

 dirt. At this same camp a Frenchman, his name not known, became insane 

 and after wandering away was captured by the Indians and kept a slave for 

 fourteen years. He was finally rescued by a United States surveying party 

 and brought to the settlements. 



At this watering place the trail seemed to be obliterated and from here 

 we ascended a long hill, or divide, and after crossing saw a brook with run- 

 ning water, the first we had seen for months. It looked good to us, and 

 we concluded it must empty into the Pacific Ocean, which was correct, for 

 this proved to be the headwaters of the Santa Clara River that empties into 

 the ocean near San Buena Ventura. Here we found timber and signs of 

 game, — the tracks of a grizzly bear where we had crossed the creek. Three 

 of us started after him, and followed the tracks till dark. We camped on 



