Expedition to Oregon Desert 157 



Duncan dug up a tin can containing the key of the 

 cabin. Past experience had taught Mr. Button 

 caution. He had gone to California once, after a 

 herd of horses, leaving his door unlocked, and some 

 prowling immigrant had abused his hospitality and 

 robbed his cabin of its store of food and blankets. 

 So now, when he left home, he locked the door and 

 hid the key, giving, however, the secret of its hid- 

 ing-place to his neighbor, Mr. Duncan. 



His cooking utensils, consisting of a camp kettle, 

 a frying pan, a Dutch oven, and a coffee pot, were 

 brought out and cleaned, and the larder searched 

 for food. It was the custom of the country at that 

 day to consider food and shelter free to all. I was 

 offered the next year a house, blankets, flour, and 

 bacon, as much as I could use for nothing, if I 

 wanted to spend the winter on a ranch in eastern 

 Oregon. I was only expected to cut my own wood 

 and cook my own food. 



Soon a cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth, 

 and the burning sage-brush was filling the air with 

 that indescribable odor from which one is never free 

 while in the desert. We had traveled through great 

 droves of wild geese along the lake, and as they 

 were so tame that they simply stepped out of our 

 way like barnyard geese, we did not think it worth 

 while to waste ammunition on them. So I set three 

 traps, common steel traps such as are used for catch- 



