Lodore Canyon, and of how he had given them a horse and provisions to
aid them in reaching the settlements. This did not prevent the elder
Snyder from coming back to trap the next year, much to Mr. Chew's
disgust. He thought one experience should be enough for any man.

While we were talking, a very old, bearded man rode in on a horse. He
was Pat Lynch, the owner of the little ranch by the river. He was a
real old-timer, having been in Brown's Park when Major Powell was
surveying that section of the country. He told us that he had been
hired to get some meat for the party, and had killed five mountain
sheep. He was so old that he scarcely knew what he was talking about,
rambling from one subject to another; and would have us listening with
impatience to hear the end of some wonderful tale of the early days,
when he would suddenly switch off on to an entirely different subject,
leaving the first unfinished.

In spite of his years he was quite active, having broken the horses on
which he rode, bareback, without assistance. We were told that he
placed a spring or trap gun in his houses at the river, ready to greet
any prying marauder The last we saw of him he was on his way to the
post-office, miles away, to draw his pension for service in the Civil
War.

Returning to the transportation of Jimmy, it was settled that the
Chews were to leave early the next morning. They also agreed to take
out our exposed films and plate for us--something we had not counted
on, but too good a chance to lose. We all three returned to the boats
and packed the stuff that was to go out; then went back to the ranch
with Jimmy. It was late--after midnight--when we reached there, and we
did not disturb any one. Jimmy's blankets were unrolled in the wagon,