"This afternoon as we were driving, with both in the wagon, William heard the rattles of a snake, and jumped out of the wagon, and thoughtlessly called the dog. I stopped the wagon and called the dog away from the reptile until it was killed. When stretched out it measured four feet eight inches, and had eight rattles." CASPER, WYOMING. I quote from my journal: "Camp No. 90, odometer 1,117½, Casper, Wyoming, July 6.—At the noon hour, while eating dinner, seven miles out, we heard the whistle of the locomotive, something we had not seen nor heard for nearly 300 miles. As soon as lunch was over I left the wagon and walked in ahead of the team to select camping ground, secure feed, and get the mail. Received twenty letters, several from home. "Fortunately a special meeting of the commercial club held this evening, and I laid the matter of building a monument before them, with the usual result; they resolved to build one; opened the subscription at once, and appointed a committee to carry the work forward. I am assured by several prominent citizens that a $500 monument will be erected, as the city council will join with the club to provide for a fountain as well, and place it on the most public street crossing in the city."[24] Glen Rock was the next place in our itinerary, which we reached at dark, after having driven twenty-five and one-fourth miles. This is the longest drive we have made on the whole trip. [Illustration: As an Old Scout.] GLEN ROCK. Glen Rock is a small village, but the ladies met and resolved they "would have as nice a monument as Casper," even if it did not cost as much, because there was a stone quarry out but six miles from town. One enthusiastic lady said: "We will inscribe it ourselves, if no stonecutter can be had." "'Where there's a will there's a way,' as the old adage runs," I remarked as we left the nice little burg and said good-bye to the energetic ladies in it. God bless the women, anyhow; I don't see how the world could get along without them; and anyhow I don't see what life would have been without that little faithful companion that came over this very same ground with me fifty-four years ago and still lives to rejoice for the many, many blessings vouchsafed to us and our descendants. DOUGLAS, WYOMING. At Douglas, Wyoming, 1,177½ miles out from The Dalles, the people at first seemed reluctant to assume the responsibility of erecting a monument, everybody being "too busy" to give up any time to it, but were willing to contribute. After a short canvass, $52 was contributed, a local committee appointed, and an organized effort to erect a monument was well in hand before we drove out of the town.