After reloading no difficulty was
experienced in making a fresh start on a down grade, but a little
farther on a second and larger hill was encountered, when the
failure to scale its summit was even greater than the first. No
amount of coaxing or urging budged the horses an inch. They
simply were stubborn and would not pull.
Night was approaching and camp was yet some distance ahead. The
driver suggested that the best thing to do under the
circumstances was for the rest of us to take the led horses and
ride on to camp, while he would remain with the wagon and, if
necessary, camp out all night. We reluctantly took his advice,
mounted our horses and finished our journey in the twilight.
Aaron, who was housekeeper at the ranch, gave us a hearty welcome
and invited us to sit down to a bountiful supper which he had
prepared in anticipation of our coming. Feeling weary after our
ride we retired early and were soon sound asleep. The only
thing that disturbed our slumbers during the night was a coyote
concert which, as a "concord of sweet sounds was a dismal
failure" but as a medley of discordant sounds was a decided
success. The bark of the coyote is particularly shrill and sharp
and a single coyote when in full cry sounds like a chorus of
howling curs.
We were all up and out early the next morning to witness the
birth of a new day. The sunrise was glorious, and bright
colors in many hues flashed across the sky.
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