The bayonet
shaped leaves seemed to fall off when old and the stalk looked so much
like an old overgrown cabbage stump that we name them "Cabbage trees,"
but afterward learned they were a species of Yucca. We were much worried
at loosing our trail and felt that it would be quite unsafe to try to
cross the mountain without finding it again, so we separated, Rogers
going northwest, and I southwest, agreeing to swing round so as to meet
again about noon, but when we met, neither of us had found a trail, and
we were still about 10 miles from the foothills. Rogers said he had
heard some of the people say that the trail leading from Salt Lake to
Los Angeles crossed such a mountain in a low pass, with very high
mountains on each side, and he supposed that the high mountain to the
south must be the one where the trail crossed, but as this would take us
fully fifty miles south of our course as we supposed it was we hesitated
about going there, and concluded we would try the lowest place in the
mountain first, and if we failed we could then go and try Roger's route,
more to the south.
So we pushed on, still keeping a distance apart to look out for the
trail, and before night, in the rolling hills, we saw here and there
faint traces of it, which grew plainer as we went along, and about
sundown we reached some water holes and from some old skulls of oxen
lying around the ground showing that it had at some previous time been a
camping ground. We found some good large sage brush which made a pretty
good fire, and if we could have had a little fresh meat to roast we
thought we were in a good position for supper.
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