THE IERIGATION AGE. 



367 



We were all panicky in a moment and began feverishly to 

 pack our things. 



"Our own supply of provisions was almost exhausted 

 and we knew that it meant starvation if we could not get out 

 to some place where we could obtain a fresh supply. And so, 

 with desperate haste, we gathered our camp belongings and 

 made ready for the journey. We had thirty head of ponies, 

 and these we drove ahead of us to break the trail. It was 

 9 o'clock in the morning when we broke camp and, with all 

 the haste of desperate men, we struggled through that terri- 

 ble sea of ice and snow until sunset and made camp for the 

 night, after having succeeded in placing only twelve miles 

 between us and the Indian village. 



"\\'e were too tired to do anything but make the most 

 primitive camp and lay down exhausted, where we slept the 

 dreamless sleep which comes to one after a day of hard toil. 



"The next morning, at daylight, Arapahoe Joe came into 

 our camp, on his return journey. He stopped long enough to 

 melt some snow for his horse. He refused all offers of break- 

 fast and pushed on homeward with as little delay as possible. 

 Behind his saddle was tied a fifty-pound sack of flour. The 

 iron gray was only a shadow of his former self, though still 

 nervy and willing. When Joe mounted him for the final 

 twelve miles he staggered along the trail for a little ways, 

 then, seeming to scent the end of his journey, he straightened 

 up and went bravely onward, for his road was now a com- 

 paratively easy one to the rough trail left in the rear. We 

 calculated that the Indian would arrive at the village about 9 

 o'clock that morning, making the journey of eighty miles in 

 twenty-four hours. 



"Our party worked valliantly for three days more before 

 it reached Brown's Hole, weary and half famished. Two of 

 the party had become snow-blind and did not recover their 

 sight for weeks. It had taken us four days of the hardest 

 travel any of us had ever known, assisted by thirty head of 

 horses, to break the trail, to make half the distance accom- 

 plished by Joe and the iron gray in one day's time. I look 

 back now on that trip as being the severest physical strain 

 I ever endured in all my life in the West. 



"Did Joe arrive in time to save the pappoose? Oh, yes; 

 there is no doubt about that, for in after years I met Joe 

 and his family and there was a sturdy young lad of ten or 

 twelve, who was already aspiring to be one of the warriors 

 of the tribe. And the iron gray was there, too, fat and sleek, 

 one of the most valued possessions of the entire family." 



Williams named the colt "Arapahoe Joe," and by that 

 name he was called to the day of his death. He became the 

 head of the Williams' herd of horses and left a hardy line of 

 progeny, one or two of which are still to be seen here in 

 the valley. This horse had a strange and unaccountable 

 antipathy to any animal of a bay color and he would not allow 

 a bay horse in his herd. He invariably drove them out and 

 the only way they could be found was to give Old Joe a sound 

 beating with a cow-whip and he would take the trail and lead 

 you to the animal, standing in some gulch, badly bitten and 

 bruised, for Old Joe was a terror. 



"I put a little bay mare in his herd one time, not thinking 

 he would drive a mare from the bunch," said Williams, when 

 explaining about this trait of Old Joe's. "When I went out 

 the next day the little mare was gone. I lit into Old Joe 

 with my cow-whip and chased him around the bunch three or 

 four times, when he started off toward the mountains. I 

 looked down at the ground and saw he was following the 

 trail. He led me away up in the mountains and there, stand- 

 ing under the pines, was the poor little mare, all bruised and 

 bitten, feebly fighting the flies that swarmed around her. 



"We did everything we could think of to put a stop to Old 

 Joe's cruelty, but without avail. We hoppled him. but it did 

 no good. We tied his head to his front foot, but he went 

 merrily on with his punishment of bay horses. Then we 

 plaited heavy iron in his foretop. He bruised his head until 

 his eyes were swelled almost shut but he kept the bay 

 horses out of the bunch as well as when he was unhampered. 

 We finally gave it up as a bad job and let Old Joe have his 

 way." 



Williams kept the animal until he was twenty years old, 

 when a man from Buffalo, N. Y., took him to his home, broke 

 him to drive and the last I heard of him he was being driven 

 around the streets of that city, hitched to a phaeton, by a 

 little flaxen-haired girl, who was very proud of her strange 

 steed. And there he probably ended his days. He was of 

 noble blood and could trace his ancestors back to the time 

 when they came over from Spain, with Cortes, to conquer 

 Mexico. 



RECENT MAGAZINE ARTICLES RELATING TO 

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IDAHO STATE LAND REGISTER RESIGNS. 



Former State Land Register, M. J. Church, secretary of 

 the Idaho State Board of Land Commissioners, on April 

 20th, tendered his resignation, to take effect at once. It 

 was immediately accepted and the position vacated was filled, 

 temporarily, by the appointment of Mr. Heber Q. Hale, one 

 of the deputies under Mr. Church's regime, as Acting Register, 

 pending the permanent appointment. It is understood that 

 Mr. Church some time ago decided to engage in private 

 practice as attorney and advisor for Carey Act companies, 

 and his decision was hastened by differences of opinion as 

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SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE New York City. 



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NORTH AMERICAN New York City. 



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MOODY'S MAGAZINE New York City. 



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"The Canadian Pacific Railway" May. 



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