The horses must
have food and water by night or we must leave them to die, and all
things considered it seemed to be the quickest way to camp to try and
get up a rough looking canon which was nearly opposite us on the other
side. So we loaded the mule and made our way down the rocky road to the
ridge, and then left the Jayhawker's trail, taking our course more south
so as to get around a salt lake which lay directly before us. On our way
we had to go close to a steep bluff, and cross a piece of ground that
looked like a well dried mortar bed, hard and smooth as ice, and thus
got around the head of a small stream of clear water, salt as brine. We
now went directly to the mouth of the canon we had decided to take, and
traveled up its gravelly bed. The horses now had to be urged along
constantly to keep them moving and they held their heads low down as
they crept along seemingly so discouraged that they would much rather
lie down and rest forever than take another step. We knew they would do
this soon in spite of all our urging, if we could not get water for
them. The canon was rough enough where we entered it, and a heavy up
grade too, and this grew more and more difficult as we advanced, and the
rough yellowish, rocky walls closed in nearer and nearer together as we
ascended.
A perpendicular wall, or rather rise, in the rocks was approached, and
there was a great difficulty to persuade the horses to take exertion to
get up and over the small obstruction, but the little mule skipped over
as nimbly as a well-fed goat, and rather seemed to enjoy a little
variety in the proceedings.
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