If you want to know what mad adventure Bud found himself launched upon,
just read a few extracts from the diary which Cash Markham, being a
methodical sort of person, kept faithfully from day to day, until he cut
his thumb on a can of tomatoes which he had been cutting open with his
knife. Alter that Bud kept the diary for him, jotting down the main
happenings of the day. When Cash's thumb healed so that he could hold a
pencil with some comfort, Bud thankfully relinquished the task. He hated
to write, anyway, and it seemed to him that Cash ought to trust his
memory a little more than he did.
I shall skip a good many days, of course--though the diary did not, I
assure you.
First, there was the outfit. When they had outfitted at Needles for the
real trip, Cash set down the names of all living things in this wise: Outfit, Cassius B. Markham, Bud Moore, Daddy a bull terrier, bay horse,
Mars, Pete a sorrel, Ed a burro, Swayback a jinny, Maude a jack, Cora
another jinny, Billy a riding burro & Sways colt & Maude colt a white
mean looking little devil.
Sat. Apr. 1.
Up at 7:30. Snowing and blowing 3 ft. of snow on ground. Managed to get
breakfast & returned to bed. Fed Monte & Peter our cornmeal, poor things
half frozen. Made a fire in tent at 1:30 & cooked a meal. Much smoke,
ripped hole in back of tent. Three burros in sight weathering fairly
well. No sign of let up everything under snow & wind a gale. Making out
fairly well under adverse conditions. Worst weather we have experienced.
Apr. 2.
Up at 7 A.M. Fine & sunny snow going fast. Fixed up tent & cleaned up
generally. Alkali flat a lake, can't cross till it dries. Stock some
scattered, brought them all together.
Apr. 3.
Up 7 A.M. Clear & bright. Snow going fast. All creeks flowing. Fine
sunny day.
Apr. 4.
Up 6 A.M. Clear & bright. Went up on divide, met 3 punchers who said
road impassable. Saw 2 trains stalled away across alkali flat. Very
boggy and moist.
Apr.5.
Up 5 A.M. Clear & bright. Start out, on Monte & Pete at 6. Animals
traveled well, did not appear tired. Feed fine all over. Plenty water
everywhere.
Not much like Bud's auto stage, was it? But the very novelty of it, the
harking back to old plains days, appealed to him and sent him forward
from dull hardship to duller discomfort, and kept the quirk at the
corners of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes. Bud liked to travel
this way, though it took them all day long to cover as much distance as
he had been wont to slide behind him in an hour. He liked it--this slow,
monotonous journeying across the lean land which Cash had traversed
years ago, where the stark, black pinnacles and rough knobs of rock
might be hiding Indians with good eyesight and a vindictive temperament.
Cash told him many things out of his past, while they poked along,
driving the packed burros before them. Things which he never had set
down in his diary--things which he did not tell to any one save his few
friends.