I found my mule in the hills back of town, not far from where I left her, and the rest and good feed had made her look better and feel better, as well as myself.
The drovers had found two other men who wanted to go with them and help drive the horses for their board.

I put my blanket on under the saddle, packed my little sack of meat and crackers on behind, and when I was in the saddle with my gun before me I considered I was pretty well fixed and able to make my way against almost anything.

I said to myself that the only way now to keep me from getting to the gold mines was to kill me.

I felt that there was not a mountain so high I could not climb, and no desert so wide and dry that I could not cross it.

I had walked and starved and choked and lived through it, and now I felt so strong and brave I could do it again--any way to reach the gold mines and get some of the "dust." I had not much idea how the gold from the mines looked.