Numerous small buildings were standing near the dredge, but the buildings were empty, and the dredge lay idle.  We saw many fresh tracks of men and horses aid were welcomed by a sleek, well-fed cat, but found the place was deserted.  All buildings were open and in one was a telephone.  We were anxious to hear just where we were, so we used the telephone and explained what we wanted to know.  The “Central” informed us that we were about nine miles from Jensen, so we returned to the boats and pulled with a will through a land that was no longer barren, but with cozy ranch houses, surrounded by rows of stately poplars, bending with the wind, for it was storming in earnest now.  About six o’clock that evening we caught sight of the top of the Jensen bridge; then, as we neared the village, the sun broke through the pall of cloud and mist, and a rainbow appeared in the sky above, and was mirrored in the swollen stream, rainbow and replica combined nearly completing the wondrous arc.  There was a small inn beside the bridge, and arrangements were made for staying there that night.  We were told that Jim and Mrs. Chew had passed through Jensen about four hours before we arrived.  They had left word that they would go on through to Vernal, fifteen miles distant from the river.

CHAPTER VIII

AN INLAND EXCURSION

Jensen was a small village with two stores and a post-office.  A few scattered houses completed the village proper, but prosperous-looking ranches spread out on the lowland for two or three miles in all directions on the west side of the river.  Avenues of poplar trees, fruit trees, and fields of alfalfa gave these ranches a different appearance from any others we had passed.

We found some mail awaiting us at the post-office, and were soon busily engaged in reading the news from home.  We conversed awhile with the few people at the hotel, then retired, but first made arrangements for saddle horses for the ride to Vernal.

Next morning we found two spirited animals, saddled and waiting for us.  We had some misgivings concerning these horses, but were assured that they were “all right.”  A group of grinning cowboys and ranch hands craning their necks from a barn, a hundred yards distant, rather inclined us to think that perhaps our informant might be mistaken.  Nothing is more amusing to these men of the range than to see a man thrown from his horse, and a horse that is “all right” for one of them might be anything else to persons such as we who never rode anything except gentle horses, and rode those indifferently.  We mounted quickly though, trying to appear unconcerned.  The horses, much to our relief, behaved quite well, Emery’s mount rearing back on his hind legs but not bucking.  After that, all went smoothly.