Sunday was a very pleasant, restful day to us. All the emigrants seemed to vie with each other in being social. Among the company was a man and wife by the name of Dent; these two came to us and said that they were going to make their home in Sacramento city and were going into business there, and they wanted us if we ever came there to come to them and make their home ours as long as we wished to stay, for, said they, "We appreciate what you have done for us on this journey we have passed through. Besides the protection you have given us, the Buffalo and Antelope meat you have shown us how to get and have helped to get has been worth more money to us than all we have paid you to pilot us to California.". We thanked them for their kind offer and good opinion of us but disclaimed having done anything but our duty by them. Monday morning Jim and I were about the first to be astir. We caught our horses and had them saddled by the time breakfast was ready, and we accepted the first invitation offered us to eat. While we were eating, our hostess said she had baked two loaves of bread for us to take with us, and that she had roasted the last piece of Antelope that she had and wanted us to take that too. We took the food this lady had prepared for us and went to our horses, but before we reached them we saw the women coming from every direction with bread and cake. Jim said, "Will, let's fill this sack with bread and cake if they insist on giving it to us and then get away as soon as possible." As Jim made this remark, it was very amusing to see how every woman tried to get her package in the sack first, but it would not begin to hold half that was brought. As soon as the sack was full, Jim said, "Now ladies, we can take no more, so be kind to us in letting us get away." By the time we had our pack fixed on our pack horses' backs, every man and woman and all the children were around us to bid us farewell and good speed on our journey back to Taos, New Mexico. We had shaken hands with probably a hundred or more when Jim sprang upon his horse all at once, saying, "Now friends, we will consider we have all shaken hands," and he took off his hat and, waving it to the assembled crowd, gathered up his reins and galloped away, and I followed suit. But as long as we were in hearing distance we could hear, "Good bye, good bye," floating on the wind. As the sight of the train faded in the distance, we waved our hats for the last time. For the next two days everything went smoothly with Jim and me, which brought us to Honey Lake. The night we reached Honey Lake, we camped in a little grove of timber near a pearling stream of cool, sparkling water about a half a mile south of the trail. We had eaten our supper and were about to spread our blankets and turn in for the night when we heard a dog bark close to our camp, but it was too dark to see him. Jim said, "Don't that beat any thing you ever heard?"