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Updated: June 15, 2025
The march was again resumed. Passing through the narrowest part of the canon they issued out into the valley and made for the river. Some time was lost here, for Sam Hicks, who was leading one of the pack-ponies, was carried down several hundred yards by the stream, and with difficulty effected his landing. The horse's load shifted and had to be repacked.
Everything was solemn and still. The morning air was cool, and dry as toast; the smell of pitch-pine choked my nostrils. We rode briskly down the broad brown aisles, across the sunny glades, under the murmuring pines. The old hunter was leading our train, and evidently knew perfectly what he was about. Unexpectedly he halted, bringing us up short. The pack-ponies lined up behind us.
The mustangs had to be driven into the water. Scarbreast led, and his mustang, after many kicks and reluctant steps, went over his depth, wetting the stalwart chief to the waist. Bare-legged Indians waded in and urged their pack-ponies. Shouts, shrill cries, blows mingled with snorts and splashes. Dave and George Naab in flat boats rowed slowly on the down-stream side of the Indians.
Wait there for us. We won't be long." Dick galloped off through the forest, and Hiram went down the slope in almost the opposite direction. Left alone, I turned my horse and drove the pack-ponies along our back-trail. Thus engaged, I began to recover somewhat from the terror that had stupefied me. Still, I kept looking back.
Carts are never used here, and such traffic as is carried on must be done by means of pack-ponies, whose loads are so contrived that, should they stumble on their rugged path, they can easily free themselves of their burden. On the lower levels, where paths are more frequent, little bridges of picturesque design cross the streams, from which rise warm miasmic mists.
Buell's lumbermen would have employment in the mill and as rangers in the forest. But I was more interested in matters which Dick seemed to wish to avoid. "How did you get out of the burning forest?" I asked, for the second time. "We didn't get out. We went back to the pool where we sent you. The pack-ponies were there, but you were gone. By George! I was mad, and then I was just broken up.
Hold him in, Ken!" called Dick, as he mounted. Then he shouted a final word to the prisoners, saying they would be looked after, and drove the pack-ponies into the trail. As we rode out we passed several of the horses that we had decided to leave behind, and as they wanted to follow us it was necessary to drive them back.
These he did up carefully into three bales, and had them ready at the gate by six o'clock on the following morning, when Pete Nancarrow, the carrier between Helleston and Penzance, passed with his pack-ponies. "You're to deliver these to the woman's own cottage over to Porthleven," was his order, conveyed by old Malachi.
The sleeping brown-skinned babies in their chrysalis-like hoods were gently lowered from the pony's back and attached securely to Nakpa's padded wooden saddle. The family pots and kettles were divided among the pack-ponies. Order was restored and the village once more in motion. "Come now, Nakpa; you have your wish. You must take good care of my babies.
The horses were saddled and bridled, and Dick and I, still tied, were bundled astride our mounts. The pack-ponies led the way, with Bill following; I came next, Greaser rode behind me, and Dick was between Bud and Stockton. So we traveled, and no time was wasted. I noticed that the men kept a sharp lookout both to the fore and the rear.
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