"But you can never take the train down," said he.
"Never you mind the train, General. You say you are looking for a good camp. How does that beautiful spot down in the valley suit you?" I asked him.
"That will do. I can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down there is a puzzler to me," said he.
"By the time you are located in your camp, your wagons shall be there," said I.
"All right, Cody, I'll leave it to you, as you seem to want to be boss," he replied, pleasantly. He at once ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain side. The wagon train was a mile in the rear, and when it came up one of the drivers asked, "How are we going down there?"
"Run down, slide down, or fall down; any way to get down," said I.
"We can never do it; it's too steep; the wagons will run over the mules," said another wagon master.
"I guess not; the mules have got to keep out of the way," was my reply.
I told Wilson, the chief wagon master, to bring on his mess wagon, which was at the head of the train, and I would try the experiment at least. Wilson drove the team and wagon to the brink of the hill, and following my directions he brought out some extra chains with which we locked the wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them. We now started the wagon down the hill. The wheel horses--or rather the wheel mules--were good on the hold back, and we got along finely until we nearly reached the bottom, when the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on a run and galloped down into the valley and to the place where General Carr had located his camp. Three other wagons immediately followed in the same way, and in half an hour every wagon was in camp, without the least accident having occurred. It was indeed an exciting sight to see the six mule teams come straight down the mountain and finally break into a full run. At times it looked as if the wagons would turn a somersault and land on the mules.
[Illustration: I DISENTANGLED MYSELF AND JUMPED BEHIND THE DEAD BODY OF THE HORSE.]
This proved to be a lucky march for us, as far as gaining on Penrose was concerned; for the route he had taken on the west side of the stream turned out to be a bad one, and we went with our immense wagon train as far in one day as Penrose had in seven. His command had marched on to a plateau or high tableland so steep that not even a pack mule could descend it, and he was obliged to retrace his steps a long way, thus losing three days' time, as we afterward learned.