He had been watching us and saw that we had failed to notice the tracks of the horses he told us about so he rode after us, and now took us off some little distance to the right, got off his horse and showed us the faint horse tracks which we were to follow and said "Mormonie".

He pointed out to us the exact canon we were to enter when we reached the hills; and said after three "sleeps" we would find an Indian camp on top of the mountain.

He then bade us good bye again and galloped back to his own camp.
We now resumed our journey, keeping watch of the tracks more closely, and as we came near the spurs of the mountain which projected out into the barren valley we crossed several well marked trails running along the foot hills, at right angles to our own.

This we afterwards learned was the regular trail from Santa Fe to Los Angeles.

At some big rocks further on we camped for the night, and found water in some pools or holes in the flat rocks which held the rain.
Reading people of to-day, who know so well the geography of the American continent, may need to stop and think that in 1849 the whole region west of the Missouri River was very little known, the only men venturesome enough to dare to travel over it were hunters and trappers who, by a wild life had been used to all the privations of such a journey, and shrewd as the Indians themselves in the mysterious ways of the trail and the chase.