I told him how I had been swindled coming
up, and he was about as angry as I had been. I think if I had known that
my friend John Rogers had been so near I should have bidden the rascals
an unceremonious good-bye and we would have been able to hold our own on
a claim for the services of myself and mule.
We went up to the place where our people were camped, perhaps a mile
above town on the bank of a river, nearly dry, but where plenty of wood,
water and grass were at hand; such a place as we had looked for in vain
for many a weary day upon the desert. This was as far above Death Valley
as a king above a pauper, and we hoped never to see such a country
again.
In camp we talked about moving on to the mines. Rogers said he was going
to start next day, and in answer to exclamations of surprise that he
should start off alone, he said that some fellows camped a little way
down the river were going to start and he had made arrangements to go
with them, as the Bennett party would not go yet for a week. In the
morning he shook hands and bade us good-bye and good luck, and started
off down the river bank, lost to us, as it proved, for many years.
The next day as we were all sitting on the ground I felt a sort of
moving of the earth under me and heard a rumbling sound that seemed very
queer. It seemed there was a motion also to the trees around us. We all
started and looked a little frightened, and Skinner said he believed it
was an earthquake, for he said he could see the motion in a sort of
wave.
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