The succeeding winter, that of 1861 and '62, will be remembered by all old Californians as one of the most severe which had ever occurred in that part of our country. The mountains were closed very early, so early, indeed, that few or none of the settlers in the up-lands had got in their winter supplies. They were actually shut in by the heavy snow-falls, from the possibility of doing so. In addition to this trouble, our old enemies, the Pah-ute Indians, had again become restless. Possibly, Uncle Sam had forgotten to purchase their forbearance. At any rate, they were again upon the war-path, for the purpose of stealing stock. My first knowledge of this arose from the following occurrence: A lame man, named Thomas Bear, was at this period keeping the Deep Hole Spring Station, on the Humboldt road. He chanced to be in the valley upon business, when some travellers from the Humboldt passed through it, on their way to Susanville. In passing Deep Hole, they had paused at the Station. It was to find it deserted and plundered of almost everything which an Indian would be likely to take. The floor was marked with numerous stains of blood, and there were unmistakable signs visible, which clearly told them a savage struggle had recently taken place there. Meeting Tom, they recounted these facts to him. He had known me for some three years, and hunting me up--for if anywhere in this end of Honey Lake Valley, no man was very difficult to find,--asked me to accompany him to the Station, to discover what was the matter. The request was a natural one, and I at once complied with it. From snow the roads were almost impassable, save on foot. I, nevertheless, set out with my lame companion on this pleasant tramp. While resting during the night at George Laithrop's Ranch, as a matter of course, I explained the facts which induced me to accompany Bear. A young lad no more than sixteen years of age overheard me, and wished to go with us. In fact, he displayed such a determination to make a third in our party, that I could not refuse him. "You must get a rifle from Laithrop," I said, when he asked me to take him with us. "I've one of my own, and a Colt's six-mouthed barker, too," was his reply. "If so, you can come with us."