Sometimes the women fell down, for a rawhide moccasin soaked soft in
water was not a very comfortable or convenient shoe, however it might be
adapted to hot, dry sands. The creek was shaded and the water quite
cool. The trail, such as it was, crossed the creek often and generally
was nothing else than the stream itself. The constant wading, and wet,
cold clothing caused the women to give out soon and we selected the
first dry suitable place which offered food for the oxen, as a place to
camp.
Wood was plenty and dry, so a good fire was soon burning, and the poor
women, wet to the waist and even higher, were standing before it,
turning round and round to get warm and dry. Someone remarked that they
resembled geese hanging before the fire to roast, as they slowly
revolved, and it was all owing to their fatigue that the suggester did
not receive merited punishment then and there at their hands. As they
got a little dry and comfortable they remarked that even an excess of
water like this was better than the desert where there was none at all,
and as to their looks, there were no society people about to point their
fingers at them, and when they reached a settled country they hoped to
have a chance to change their clothes, and get two dresses apiece, and
that these would be long enough to hide their knees which these poor
tatters quite failed to do. One remarked that she was sure she had been
down in the brook a dozen times and that she did not consider cold water
baths so frequently repeated were good for the health.
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