"Their grievance arises from the inability of the cattle to haul them when not on duty as drivers, they assuming that they made no bargain with daddie to do any extra walking. Our teamster Yank, the aristocratic son of Virginia, who claims to be an F.F.V., climbed on a wagon-tongue early in the day, and compelled the oxen to pull his weight through the rocks and sand, the added strain upon their neck yokes making their lot doubly hard. Daddie is holding a conference with the fellow now. He said before we halted for the night that he hoped the dissatisfied ones would leave of their own accord, as otherwise he expected trouble. He announced to-night that there would be no more riding on wagon-tongues; and although we await the result of the conference with some anxiety, daddie says he isn't worried, since the dissatisfied fellows must stay with the train or starve.
"August 4. We travelled seventeen miles to-day, having halted for two hours to feast the cattle on a bed of dry bunchgrass, fortunately discovered by Scotty in a ravine overlooked by trains ahead. It was a gpreat comfort to see the hungry animals fill themselves with the dry but nutritious grass, and drink their fill from a trench made in the bed of the dry creek.
"Three miles' further travel brought us to a bend in the creek, where we succeeded in digging again for water.
"August 5. We are in better spirits than at any time since our loss of cattle. All traces of mutiny have disappeared, and even Yank trudges over the road without protest. The animals, too, are stepping briskly.
"We find nothing at all for the cattle to eat to-day. The road continues rough and rocky, and abounds in chuck-holes which the narrow track will not permit the wheels to avoid. The tires are all loose on the wagonwheels, and it seems a miracle that the wheels do not fall to pieces.
"After we halted for the night on the banks of the Snake River, once more our men were compelled to drive
