After sawing with the dull knife and being literally dragged for some distance, he became so much exhausted that he was obliged to relinquish his hold and see the excited old ox disappear.
In almost complete despair Field spent the night beside a fire under one of those large cottonwoods which I have no doubt you will remember even though it is now more than forty years since you saw them.

He rose early next morning and started out on the well beaten road towards the Golden West, but had only gone a few hundred yards when he was agreeably surprised to again behold the old ox approaching him, but so much exhausted that it could scarcely walk.

The same, or some other, wolf was near by, and had probably followed the poor old ox all night.

When the ox came close to Field the wolf growled and again turned away as on the evening before.

After the wolf had left the ox seemed to be relieved.
It then occurred to the starving emigrant that he had a sharp razor in his "kitt" with which he knew he could cut those tough tendons, provided he could get another hold on that tail.