Having no means of subsistence here we soon decided to push on towards Fort Bridger, and, after resting a few hours set out following the larger fork of the river which comes almost directly from the north. We now believed that we were almost, if not exactly, due south of Fort Bridger. The river is small, and very crooked; we crossed it many times within three days, and, at the end of that time, found ourselves in the mouth of a rocky cañon, and after struggling for one whole day, we came to where the steep, high, stone walls closed the little river in on both sides, rendering it impossible for us to proceed any further. We were now nearly out of food; the jerk was almost gone. A council was held, and it was decided that we should return to the fort and take chances of being rescued, or scalped by some roving band of reds, or starving to death. We at once set out on our return, full of disappointment and melancholy forebodings. The next day found us without food: and now came into use the long, narrow strip of raw-hide which first bound together the old, rotting logs of which the raft was made, then to secure the mule of nights. It was now almost as hard as bone, and nearly round, having been dragged through the hot sand while it was yet green and wet, closed up like a hollow tube with sand inside. Two or three yards of it at a time, was cut into pieces about five inches long, the hair singed off, the sand scratched out, and these pieces were dropped into our camp kettle and cooked until the whole formed one mass of jelly or gluten which was, to us, quite palatable. When the lasso had all been thus prepared and eaten, the broad girth which had served so well in holding the pack-saddle on the mule's back, was cleaned, cooked, and eaten. These substitutes for jerk sustained us very well till we again arrived at the fort. Another consultation was now held, and the question was--what shall we do now? We were again, apparently, at the starting point of another long, enforced fast. Our path seemed hedged in. The prospect was, indeed, very gloomy. Our only reasonable hope for even the temporary prolongation of our lives was centered in our ever faithful, and always reliable old mule. We revolted at the idea of killing and eating him, but the last bit of the girth was gone. After canvassing the whole situation over and over, again and again, we finally, but most reluctantly decided to kill the mule, and preserve all the soft parts, even the skin with all of its old scars, and then gather in whatever else we could find, and stay here until spring, or until good fortune might afford us some means escape; till some Moses might come and lead us out of this wilderness, notwithstanding the fact that we had not borrowed any jewelry which we had failed to return.