I had been wearing moccasins all winter, had done a great deal of walking and had felt well and strong; but the winter had commenced to break and there was mud and wet snow to encounter on our trip. Someone had induced me to put on a pair of heavy, stiff-soled English shoes. About sundown I gave out; got so lame that it was impossible for me to wear the shoes and travel. We had about ten miles to go yet, and no trail, as the Indian trail was much longer than to cross directly over the country, and we wished to take the shortest cut. Moreover there was still a few inches of snow on the ground part of the way on the most direct route. We were bent on getting to camp that night, if possible, so determined to keep going. I was compelled to pull off my "stoggas" and go in my stocking feet. This did very well till the snow gave out, which it did as we got on to lower country. My socks soon failed then, and the ground commenced to freeze hard. Traveling became slightly unpleasant to me. I put on the shoes again, but could not possibly walk; it was as though my shin bones were being broken at every step. (Some may wonder why my companion did not change his foot gear with me. The reason was he wore a number six shoe, and I could squeeze on a number ten. Will that do?) So I determined to go bare-footed. It now became really unpleasant, for the country was spotted with prickly pears (thorny cactus). When I placed my number ten foot, pressed down by my 175-pound body, on these desert ornaments, they had a piercing effect, often causing me to halt. Several times it hurt so badly that I dropped, desiring to take a seat so that I could pull the thorns out of my feet, but on striking the ground I had a sudden desire to rise, as the cactus formed the only place to sit. This was really amusing. Still, I soon had enough of this fun and commenced to figure how to avoid having any more of it. The horses dreaded the cactus, and if left to pick the road would avoid them; so we allowed them to go ahead. I carefully watched their tracks and followed them, getting along much better after this. About midnight we got in, my feet a little the worse for wear; but so happy were we with our success that my feet soon got well. Another blessing had befallen the company while we were gone. Three large work oxen, one wearing a big bell, had come into camp. These cattle had traveled nearly one hundred miles from where they had been lost; they were in fair order. We supposed the reason why the wolves had not killed them was that the noise of the bell scared them away. With the meat on hand and these cattle we felt pretty safe for the balance of the season. We had hopes of keeping a yoke of the cattle to haul wood with, this having been done all winter with a light wagon, ten men for team, or in hand-carts. The ice was melted on the river and in going for wood it had to be waded. This was hard on the boys, and we were very grateful for the cattle.