In speaking of the great overland trail, which was used for a score of years after the discovery of gold in California, one is apt to think of it as of comparatively slight width. Yet, although it narrowed to a few miles in some places, there were others where the ground traversed was fifty or a hundred miles across. Thus it happened that trains which were following parallel routes were often out of sight of one another for days, and perhaps weeks. The breadth of the famous South Pass, the gateway of the Rocky Mountains, is so great that parties of emigrants frequently did not know for a long time that they were really traveling through it. Although there were many incidents worth telling, we must skip them and come to the time when our friends were plodding some distance beyond the straggling town of Cheyenne, which was to attain importance during the building of the transcontinental railway eight or nine years later. They were heading for Fort Laramie, on the western slope of the spur known as the Laramie Mountains. Far ahead the crests could be seen, tinted with a soft blue, as they raised their summits into the clear spring sky. The ground was more rolling and undulating, and streams of varying depth and volume had to be crossed. The greater elevation gave a sensible coolness to the air. Although summer was near at hand, the nights were chilly and the warmth of blankets and the roaring camp fire was grateful to all alike. Indians had been descried many times, and Shagbark expected an attack, but since the affair many miles to the eastward, not a hostile shot had been heard. He was inclined to think this was due to the vigilance of the emigrants. No matter how tranquil everything looked, all the adults took turn in mounting guard each night. The redmen more than once rode up within two or three hundred yards and seemed to meditate a closer approach, as if for barter. But with good reason they distrusted the white men, who knew their treacherous nature. Occasionally these warriors waved their blankets and made tantalizing gestures as if to draw a shot, but Shagbark would not permit any to be fired. “Thar’s no use of throwing away powder and ball,” he said; “we’re likely to need all we’ve got afore we see Salt Lake, and them insults don’t hurt.” Several times our friends had seen the Pony Express riders as they skimmed across the country with the speed of the wind. A wave of the hand from the flying horseman, without the slightest pull of rein, was the only acknowledgment made to the salutations of the emigrants. The majority of these headlong riders were not seen, for, always hunting the speediest route, they were generally well north or south of the trail of the ox teams.