There were a few California wagons here, and some campers, so I put my pony out to grass and looked around.

I waded across the low bottom to a strip of dry land next to the river, where there was a post office, store, and a few cabins.

I looked first for a letter, but there was none.

Then I began to look over the cards in the trading places and saloons, and read the names written on the logs of the houses, and everywhere I thought there might be a trace of the friends I sought.

No one had seen or knew them.
After looking half a day I waded back again to the pony--pretty blue.