Then came in review his unexpected meeting with that brother in the wilderness. “Forgive my pride, brutality, and selfishness, O Lord! and by all that’s holy, I’ll make it right with Joe!”
And who shall say that this unique appeal to the great Source of Life was less acceptable to the Infinite than the studied petitions of gowned prelates? whose often conflicting appeals to Jehovah, if answered literally, would plunge the world into confusion and chaos under the diverse demands of the children of men.
His prayer ended, the chilled and worried wanderer returned to his bed and readdressed himself to sleep, this time with such success that when he awoke the sun was riding high in the heavens, and he heard the familiar voice of a train-master, whom he had left in his rear by taking the Green River cut-off, and who had now overtaken him.
“Hello, Captain!” exclaimed the new arrival, striking the wall of the sleeper’s tent with the butt of his heavy ox-whip. “What’s all this I’ve been hearing? Didn’t you get back any of your stampeded cattle?”
“Nary a hoof,” replied the Captain. “I tell you we’re in a mighty bad fix, Harlan.”
“How are you going to get out?”
“Don’t know yet. It’s a ground-hog case, though, I’m bound to make it somehow. Got any cattle to sell?”
“Possibly. Might spare two yoke and an odd steer. Got any money?”
“A few dollars. But I don’t want to get into Oregon dead broke. Can’t you trust a fellow till we reach the settlements?”