rocks.

Camp was made at the salt water hole, and our wheat and meat boiled in
it did not soften and get tender as it did in fresh water. There was
plenty of salt grass above; but the oxen did not eat it any more than
the horses did, and wandered around cropping a bite of the bitter brush
once in awhile, and looking very sorry. This was near the place where
Rogers and I found the piece of ice which saved our lives. The women did
not seriously complain when we reached this camp, but little Charley
Arcane broke out with a bad looking rash all over his body and as he
cried most of the time it no doubt smarted and pained him like a mild
burn. Neither his mother nor any one else could do anything for him to
give him any relief. We had no medicines, and if he or any one should
die, all we could do would be to roll the body in a blanket and cover it
with a light covering of sand.

From this camp to the next water holes at the base of the great snow
mountain, it was at least 30 miles, level as to surface, and with a
light ascending grade. The Jayhawkers had made a well marked trail, and
it it was quite good walking. The next camp was a dry one, both for
ourselves and the oxen, nothing but dry brush for them, and a little
dried meat for ourselves, but for all this the women did not complain so
very much. They were getting use to the work and grew stronger with the
exercise. They had followed Old Crump and the children every day with
the canteens of water and a little dried meat to give them if they cried
too much with hunger, and Arcane had led his ox day after day with a
patience that was remarkable, and there was no bad temper shown by any
one. This was the way to do, for if there were any differences, there
was no tribunal to settle them by.

In all this desert travel I did not hear any discontent and serious
complaint, except in one case, and that was at the Jayhawker's camp,
where they burned their wagons at the end of the wagon road, in Death
Valley. Some could not say words bad enough to express their contempt,
and laid all the trouble of salt water to Lot's wife. Perhaps she was in
a better position to stand the cursing than any of the party present.

The next day we reached the water holes at the place where Rogers and I
stole up to camp fire in the evening, supposing it to be Indians, but
finding there Capt. Doty and his mess, a part of the Jayhawker's band.
By dipping carefully from these holes they filled again,