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450 represented to be about as fit for traveling as is h—ll for a powder magazine, and to journey viâ Fillmore and the wonder-bearing White Mountains; finally, he comforted me with an assurance that either the Indians would not attempt to attack us and our stock—ever a sore temptation to them—or that they would assault us in force and "wipe us out."

When the drinking was finished we exchanged a cordial poignée de main with Porter and our hospitable host, who appeared to be the crême de la crême of Utah County, and soon found ourselves again without the limits of Camp Floyd.

On the evening of the 25th of September, the judge, accompanied by his son and the Marshal of the Territory, entered the cantonment, and our departure was fixed for the next day. The morning of the start was spent in exchanging adieux and little gifts with men who had now become friends, and in stirrup-cups which succeeded one another at no longer intervals than quarter hours. Judge Crosby, who had arrived by the last mail, kindly provided me with fishing-tackle which could relieve a diet of eggs and bacon, and made me regret that I had not added to my outfit a Maynard. This, the best of breech-loading guns, can also be loaded at the muzzle; a mere carbine in size, it kills at 1800 yards, and in the United States costs only $40=£8. The judge, a remarkable contrast to the usual Elijah Pogram style that still affects bird's-eye or speckled white tie, black satin waistcoat, and swallow-tailed coat of rusty broadcloth, with terminations to match, had been employed for some time in Oregon and at St. Juan: he knew one of my expatriated friends—poor J. de C., whose exile we all lament—and he gave me introductions which I found most useful in Carson Valley. Like the best Americans, he spoke of the English as brothers, and freely owned the deficiencies of his government, especially in dealing with the frontier Indians.

We started from Lieutenant Dudley's hospitable quarters, where a crowd had collected to bid us farewell. The ambulance, with four mules driven by Mr. Kennedy in person, stood at the door, and the parting stirrup-cup was exhibited with a will. I bade farewell with a true regret to my kind and gallant hosts, whose brotherly attentions had made even wretched Camp Floyd a pleasant séjour to me. At the moment I write it is probably desolate, the "Secession" disturbances having necessitated the withdrawal of the unhappies from Utah Territory.

About 4 P.M., as we mounted, a furious dust-storm broke over the plain; perhaps it may account for our night's méprise, which