This water was not pure; it had a bitter taste, and no
doubt in dry weather was a rank poison. Those who partook of it were
affected about as if they had taken a big dose of salts.
A short distance above this we found the trail of the Jayhawkers going
west, and thus we knew they had got safely across the great plain and
then turned southward. I hurried along their trail for several miles and
looked the country over with field glass becoming fully satisfied we
should find no water till we reached the summit, of the next range, and
then fearing the party had not taken the precaution to bring along some
water I went back to them and found they had none. I told them they
would not see a drop for the next forty miles, and they unloaded the
lightest wagon and drove back with everything they had which would hold
water, to get a good supply.
I turned back again on the Jayhawker's road, and followed it so rapidly
that well toward night I was pretty near the summit, where a pass
through this rocky range had been found and on this mountain not a tree
a shrub or spear of grass could be found--desolation beyond conception.
I carried my gun along every day, but for the want of a chance to kill
any game a single load would remain in my gun for a month. Very seldom a
rabbit could be seen, but not a bird of any kind, not even a hawk
buzzard or crow made their appearance here.
When near the steep part of the mountain, I found a dead ox the
Jayhawkers had left, as no camp could be made here for lack of water and
grass, the meat could not be saved.
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