The reader may recall that I had an understanding with Captain Whitmore that the wagon train would proceed to Salt Lake City as rapidly as possible, to deliver merchandise that had been long in transit. As the grade from the head of Parley's Canyon to the city was steadily downward, this could be accomplished without the service of the missing cattle, but I was to remain in the mountains and recover them, if possible. The next two days were devoted to this work, and having ascended one ravine after another, late on the afternoon of October 8th I emerged from the mountains with all the missing cattle in a herd before me. We came out over the high bench by the upper road, which has since been abandoned, and from which elevation against the light of the setting sun could be seen the Jordan Valley and the western mountains beyond. There were reasons for self-congratulation on reflecting that the cattle hunt was so near a successful termination. It was in the early twilight, and hardly two miles separated the truant oxen from the city corral, when for no cause apparent to me all the cattle suddenly stopped, wheeled from the road and with heads and tails in the air started in various directions at the top of their speed. My horse sharing in the panic became almost unmanageable, but with him I started in pursuit.
It appears that in the preceding year a firm possessed of more enterprise than business acumen had imported from the Orient a herd of camels, intending to use them for the transportation of freight across the arid country south of Salt Lake.
In the dusk of evening the stock under my care had caught a glimpse of this herd of grotesque long-necked beasts approaching them. It was a sight the like of which they probably had never before beheld. Escaping hurriedly with my frightened horse I was carried through what I believe was an irrigating ditch into the rough ground beyond, whence for the first time I discerned in outline the swaying towering heads of the awkward camels that had caused the stampede. Then the pursuit of the panic-stricken oxen was renewed, my hope being that they might be brought back into the road before the darkness of the on-coming night should make it impossible to follow them. Racing at night on horseback over rough and unknown grounds, under the leadership of a frightened steer, may be conducive to health, but when at eight o'clock all the oxen were brought up near the gate of the corral in the City of the Saints, I was happy to call for help and turn over the 'whole bloomin' outfit' to the care of fresh herders.
[CHAPTER XXIX]
Adventures Of An Amateur Detective
IT was long after the time of which we are writing that Conan Doyle led his readers into some of the secrets of detecting crime by the observance of circumstances devoid of significance to the ordinary searcher for clues. It is also true that the legal devices by which the guilty are now-a-days generally enabled to escape punishment had not been brought to their present high state of perfection.
In the corral in Salt Lake City where our wagons and stock were temporarily cared for, there were also other outfits having drivers concerning whose character our captain had little knowledge, but the conduct and general appearance of some of them led him to believe that they were not quite incapable of disregarding on occasion the artificial distinction between mine and thine.
One morning three mule trains said to be bound for Montana pulled out from the corral, and on the same day it was discovered that several articles were missing from our wagons. This interesting synchronism led our men generally to believe that our property had accompanied one of those trains, which were soon beyond the jurisdiction of Salt Lake officers. A Sherlock Holmes might have discerned some further hint pointing to the authors of the larceny, but we could find none. We decided to rely upon general suspicion as sufficient ground for action and to proceed accordingly.
In the Western territories, and especially outside any of the few settlements, according to the unwritten law, horse stealing was treated as a capital offense. Therefore, if it had been a horse that was stolen from us, a posse comitatus would doubtless have been at once put upon the trail, fully equipped to execute the conventional punishment, but the saddles, bridles, and blankets that formed a portion of our loss, though equine accoutrements and exceeding in value an average horse, still left the crime in the rank of mild offenses, along with other misdemeanors forbidden by the decalogue. For some reason that no one could ever even guess, it was urged that I, even I, should pursue the trains and ascertain, if possible, if the stuff was under their care. I consented, perhaps foolishly, to make the venture. A search warrant was secured, which purported to invest me with authority to detain and examine the trains in question, in other words assigning to me the duties of deputy sheriff or detective, I hardly knew which; but I was well aware of the fact that the instrument given me really had no legal force beyond the city limits, and I doubted if it had much value anywhere, but it was quite a good-looking and impressive piece of paper, and with it I started very early the next morning for the North.