Mosquito Camp, Saturday, June 21.
Clouds down tight over everything, and raining gently. We waited by our own fireside till the packs were ready to start, about 11. Had not gone more than a quarter of a mile when W. yelled to know if any packs were ahead of us. As there were not, we waited developments for about half an hour. The Twins, who always gave U. endless trouble, had dashed off to one side at the rear, and gone back to their feeding ground on the rolling hills between camp and Mt. Wilson. They were haled back, and the long procession got under way again. W. rides at the head, H in the middle of the bunch, and U. at the back. The best horses, our last year’s bunch and the Peyto ones, mostly get in the front half, Dandy usually in the lead, so U. has as bad time with the laggards and the ones who don’t know the trail, and especially the aggravating little twins. They are only three year olds, Lucy is a light roan, and Biddy is sort of pinto, and they insist on ambling along si...