We had been coming back with the wagon from a hunting trip in the Big Horn Mountains.

The team was fagged out, and we were tired of walking at a snail's pace beside it.

When we reached country that the driver thoroughly knew, we thought it safe to leave him, and we loped in one night across a distance which it took the wagon the three following days to cover.

It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the ride was delightful.

All day long we had plodded at a walk, weary and hot.