We began to think that the only way to get along at all in Salt Lake would be to turn Mormons, and none of us had any belief or desire that way and could not make up our minds to stop our journey and lose so much time, and if we were not very favored travelers our lot might be cast among the sinners for all time.
We were now on the Sweetwater River, and began to see the snow on the Rocky Mountains ahead of us, another reminder that there was a winter coming and only a little more than half our journey was done.

We did not feel very happy over it, and yet we had to laugh once in a while at some of the funny things that would happen.
The Government party we were with had among them a German mule driver who had a deal of trouble with his team, but who had a very little knowledge of the English language.

When the officers tried to instruct him a little he seemed to get out of patience and would say something very like _Sacramento_.

We did not know exactly what this meant.

We had heard there was a river of that name or something very near like that; and then again some said that was the Dutch for swearing.