extrication, and when our tempers had been sorely tried and we were in
the most unsocial of humors, speaking only in half angry expletives, I
recalled that beautiful line in Byron's "Childe Harold," "There is a
pleasure in the pathless woods," which I recited with all the "ore
rotundo" I could command, which struck the ludicrous vein of the company
and produced an instantaneous response of uproarious laughter, which, so
sudden is the transition between extremes, had the effect to restore
harmony and sociability, and, in fact, to create a pleasure in the
pathless wilderness we were traveling.

One of our pack horses is at once a source of anxiety and amusement to
us all. He is a remarkable animal owned by Judge Hedges, who, however,
makes no pretentious to being a good judge of horses. Mr. Hedges says
that the man from whom he purchased the animal, in descanting upon his
many excellent qualities, said: "He is that kind of an animal that
drives the whole herd before him." The man spoke truly, but Mr. Hedges
did not properly interpret the encomium, nor did he realize that the
seller meant to declare that the animal, from sheer exhaustion, would
always be lagging behind the others of the herd. From the start, and
especially during our journey through the forest, this pony, by his
acrobatic performances and mishaps, has furnished much amusement for us
all. Progress to-day could only be accomplished by leaping our animals
over the fallen trunks of trees. Our little broncho, with all the
spirit necessary, lacks oftentimes the power to scale the tree trunks.
As a consequence, he is frequently found resting upon his midriff with
his fore and hind feet suspended over the opposite sides of some huge
log. "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." He has an
ambitious spirit, which is exceeded only by his patience. He has had
many mishaps, any one of which would have permanently disabled a larger
animal, and we have dubbed him "Little Invulnerable." One of the