speed. In spite of his extreme anxiety to stay with
the train, he would once in a blue moon get a strange
idea of wandering off solitary through the mountains,
passing good feed, good water, good shelter. We
would find him, after a greater or less period of difficult
tracking, perched in a silly fashion on some elevation.
Heaven knows what his idea was: it certainly
was neither search for feed, escape, return whence he
came, nor desire for exercise. When we came up
with him, he would gaze mildly at us from a foolish
vacant eye and follow us peaceably back to camp.
Like most weak and silly people, he had occasional
stubborn fits when you could beat him to a pulp
without persuading him. He was one of the type
already mentioned that knows but two or three kinds
of feed. As time went on he became thinner and
thinner. The other horses prospered, but Tunemah
failed. He actually did not know enough to take
care of himself; and could not learn. Finally, when
about two months out, we traded him at a cow-camp
for a little buckskin called Monache.

So much for the saddle-horses. The pack-animals
were four.

A study of Dinkey's character and an experience
of her characteristics always left me with mingled
feelings. At times I was inclined to think her
perfection: at other times thirty cents would have been
esteemed by me as a liberal offer for her. To enumerate