312 FISHEL GOES FOR LETTERS. 



ever sat on, though it had almost as much hair on it as its 

 late master. I have on several occasions returned to camp 

 with one deer in front of the saddle and another behind, sitting 

 myself in the middle, and he jogged along for miles with this 

 load, apparently making nothing of it. 



We had received no letters since leaving Carroll, so we sent 

 Fishel to a place called Martinsdale about eighty miles off, 

 where there was a post-office kept by a brother of Colonel 

 Clendenin's, to which we had directed our letters to be sent. 

 Fishel thought that he could do it in two days, returning in 

 three, and he took two good ponies of his own as we needed 

 a few stores at the same time. 



During his absence we went in a good deal for fishing, and 

 caught some trout over three pounds in weight, and we threw 

 in all under a pound. Game was so plentiful that we could 

 only hunt twice a week, and used to explore the mountains or 

 fish on the other days. One day we thought we would vary 

 our sport by having a day's antelope-stalking, Symonds 

 following us in the distance with his dog, in case we wounded 

 any. We had some miles to ride as they very seldom came 

 near the timber, and at last saw a small band feeding on a very 

 bare portion of the valley ; the only way to get near them was 

 to wade up a stream which ran within about two hundred yards 

 of them. We left our ponies in charge of Symonds and entered 

 the stream, the banks of which were only about three feet high 

 and the water very cold. Walking against a strong stream in 

 nearly two feet of iced water was not very pleasant, especially 

 when you had to double yourself up to keep below the bank ; 

 and my companion soon gave it up, so I kept on by myself, 

 getting at last within about three hundred yards, too far for a 



