satisfying himself that I could do the packing, he consented to let me
go on, he and the messenger returning home during the night. The next
morning I packed without any trouble and started on my way. It would
take me two days yet, poking along with heavy packs, to reach the
hunters. Well, I hadn't made over eight or ten miles the first
morning, when, as I rounded a turn in the trail, a man stepped out
from behind a rock, threw a gun in my face, and ordered me to hold up
my hands. Then another appeared from the opposite side with his gun
leveled on me. Inside of half a minute a dozen men galloped up from
every quarter, all armed to the teeth. The man on leaving had given me
his gun for company, one of these old smoke-pole, cap-and-ball
six-shooters, but I must have forgotten what guns were for, for I
elevated my little hands nicely. The leader of the party questioned me
as to who I was, and what I was doing there, and what I had in those
packs. That once, at least, I told the truth. Every mother's son of
them was cursing and cross-questioning me in the same breath. They
ordered me off my horse, took my gun, and proceeded to verify my tale
by unpacking the mules. So much ammunition aroused their suspicions,
but my story was as good as it was true, and they never shook me from
the truth of it. I soon learned that robbery was not their motive, and
the leader explained the situation.

"A vigilance committee had been in force in that county for some time,
trying to rid the country of lawless characters. But lawlessness got
into the saddle, and had bench warrants issued and served on every
member of this vigilance committee. As the vigilantes numbered several
hundred, there was no jail large enough to hold such a number, so they
were released on parole for appearance at court. When court met, every
man served with a capias"--