“He was a right clever cuss, Jim—we've covered each day just about the distances he said we would; I've marked 'em all off. At this rate about four days more will fetch us out at Raymond's ranch on the bench above Salt Lake; that's the first Mormon settlement we strike. He was sort of sour on Mormons in general, but he spoke well of this heah Raymond.”
The contemplation of the map, and the prospect of so soon reaching the valley had a noticeably cheering effect on him; he began to sing, and the song was a classic of the trail.
“Oberdier, he dreampt a dream,
Dreampt he was drivin' a ten mule team,
But when he woke, he heaved a sigh,
The lead mule kicked out the swing mule's eye.”
But he got no further than the end of the first verse when the words suddenly died on his lips; he reined in his mule and turned to Jim.
“We seem to have found their trail, and they seem to be going in toward the valley; do you see that?” he said.
“I noticed,” answered Jim laconically.
The Missourian dismounted and examined the signs which had compelled his attention. His examination was brief, however, and when he settled himself in the saddle again, he said quietly: