The wagon train headed into the rugged western country, was headed by Phil Banks - a southerner - and Rufus Ford - a New England yankee. Strangers until their meeting, they and the men and women who followed in the wagons behind them had become as one - united by the spirit that moved them from the safety and comfort of their homes, to the ever beckoning prospects that lay in the west beyond the sierras. The Lone Ranger and Tonto were watching, and deliberating on whether they should tell the person in charge of the wagon trail, that they ought to head away, and head towards the north west instead, and over the bridge built by a rancher, long dead now.