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Snake River on here a piece, we’ll be 
all right.” 
“T thought we had been crossing it 
for the past hour,” I was feminine 
enough to gasp. 
“Oh, yes, them’s forks of it; but the 
main stream’s on ahead, and it’s mighty 
treacherous, too,” was the calm reply. 
When we reached the Snake River, 
there was no doubt that the others were 
mere forks. Fortunately, Joe Miller 
and his two sons live on the opposite 
bank, and make a living by helping 
people escape destruction from the 
mighty waters. Two men waved us 
back from the place where our driver 
was lashing his horses into the rushing 
current, and guided us down stream 
some distance. One of them said: 
‘This yere ford changes every week, 
but I reckon you might try here.” 
We did. 
