erns slung from their rear axles. It
was a silent camp, lacking laughter and high-pitched voices; and the
begging water seekers, while not denied their drinks, were received with
a sullenness which was eloquent. One of them was moved to complain
querulously to Tom Boyd of the treatment he had received at one wagon,
and forthwith learned a few facts about himself and his kind.

"Look hyar," drawled Tom in his best frontier dialect. "If I war runnin'
this caravan yer tongue would be hangin' out fer th' want o' a drink.
You war warned, fair an' squar, back on th' Arkansas, ter carry all th'
water ye could. But ye knew it all, jest like ye know it all every time
a better man gives ye an order. If it warn't fer yer kind th' Injuns
along th' trail would be friendly. Hyar, let me tell ye somethin':

"We been follerin', day after day, a plain trail, so plain that even
_you_ could foller it. But thar was a time when thar warn't no trail,
but jest an unmarked plain, without a landmark, level as it is now, all
'round fur's th' eye could reach. Thar warn't much knowed about it years
ago, an' sometimes a caravan wandered 'round out hyar, its water gone
an' th' men an' animals slowly dyin' fer a drink. Some said go _this_
way, some said to go _that_ way; others, _other_ ways. Nobody knowed
which war right, an' so they went every-which way, addin' mile to mile
in thar wanderin'. Then they blindly stumbled onter th' Cimarron, which
they had ter do if they follered thar compasses an' kept on goin' south;
an' when they got thar they found it dry! Do ye understand that? They
found th' river _dry_! Jest a river bed o' sand, mile after mile, dry as
a bone.

"Which way should they go? It warn't a question _then_, o' headin' fer
Santa Fe; but o' headin' _any_ way a-tall ter git ter th' nearest water.
If they went down they was as bad off as if they went up, fer th' bed
war dry fer miles either way in a dry season. Sufferin'? Hell! you don't
know what sufferin' is! A few o' you fools air thirsty, but yer beggin'
gits ye water. Suppose thar warn't no water a-tall in th' hull caravan,
fer men, wimmin, children, or animals? Suppose ye war so thirsty that
you'd drink what ye found in th' innards o' some ol' buffalo yer war
lucky enough ter kill, an' near commit murder ter git furst chanct at
it? That war done onct. Don't ye let me hear ye bellerin' about bein'
thirsty! Suppose we all had done like you, back thar on th' Arkansas?
An' don't ye com