One of our pack horses is at once a source of anxiety and amusement to us all.  He is a remarkable animal owned by Judge Hedges, who, however, makes no pretentious to being a good judge of horses.  Mr. Hedges says that the man from whom he purchased the animal, in descanting upon his many excellent qualities, said:  “He is that kind of an animal that drives the whole herd before him.”  The man spoke truly, but Mr. Hedges did not properly interpret the encomium, nor did he realize that the seller meant to declare that the animal, from sheer exhaustion, would always be lagging behind the others of the herd.  From the start, and especially during our journey through the forest, this pony, by his acrobatic performances and mishaps, has furnished much amusement for us all.  Progress to-day could only be accomplished by leaping our animals over the fallen trunks of trees.  Our little broncho, with all the spirit necessary, lacks oftentimes the power to scale the tree trunks.  As a consequence, he is frequently found resting upon his midriff with his fore and hind feet suspended over the opposite sides of some huge log.  “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”  He has an ambitious spirit, which is exceeded only by his patience.  He has had many mishaps, any one of which would have permanently disabled a larger animal, and we have dubbed him “Little Invulnerable.”  One of the soldiers of our escort, Private Moore, has made a sketch of him as he appeared to-day lying across a log, of which I am to have a copy.

[Illustration:  LITTLE INVULNERABLE.]

I growled at Hauser and scolded him a little in camp to-night because of some exasperating action of his.  I here record the fact without going into details.  I think that I must try to be more patient.  But I am feeling somewhat the fatigue of our journey.  However, there is something to be said on the other hand, and that is that there is no one of the party better able to bear its labors and anxieties than I, and therefore I should be the last man to lose my patience.

I know of nothing that can try one’s patience more than a trip of any considerable length by wagon train or pack train through an uninhabited region, and the most amiable of our race cannot pass this ordeal entirely unscathed.  Persons who are not blessed with uncommon equanimity never get through such a journey without frequent explosions of temper, and seldom without violence.  Even education, gentle training and the sharpest of mental discipline do not always so effectually subdue the passions that they may not be aroused into unwonted fury during a long journey through a country filled with obstructions.  Philosophy has never found a fitter subject for its exercise than that afforded by the journey we are now making, which obliges the members of our party to strive to relieve each other’s burdens.

Friday, September 9.—­Last night there occurred an incident which I would gladly blot from these pages, but a faithful record of all the events of camp life in connection with this expedition demands that I omit nothing of interest, nor set down “aught in malice.”