Only water for one day's camp could be carried with us, and that was for ourselves alone and not for the animals.
When the moccasins were finished in the morning we began to get our cattle together when it was discovered that Old Brigham was gone, and the general belief was that the Indians had made a quiet raid on us and got away with the old fellow.

We circled around till we found his track and then Arcane followed it while we made ready the others.

Arcane came in with the stray namesake of the polygamous saint about this time shouting:--"I've got him--No Indians." The ox had got into the wash ravine below camp and passed out of sight behind, in a short time.

He had been as easily tracked as if he walked in snow.

There was larger sage brush in the wash than elsewhere, and no doubt Brigham had thought this a good place to seek for some extra blades of grass.
Immediately south of this camp now known as Providence Springs, is the salt lake to which Rogers and I went on the first trip and were so sadly disappointed in finding the water unfit to use.
As soon as ready we started up the canon, following the trail made by the Jayhawkers who had proceeded us, and by night had reached the summit, but passed beyond, a short distance down the western slope, where we camped in a valley that gave us good large sage brush for our fires, and quite a range for the oxen without their getting out of sight.