One hundred yards now to the wagons and still no sign of life, no positive sign of death, though we looked carefully for both.  We fear that perhaps there are Indians in ambush, and with nervous irregular breathing we counsel what to do.  Finally Rogers suggested that he had two charges in his shot gun and I seven in the Coll’s rifle, and that I fire one of mine and await results before we ventured any nearer, and if there are any of the red devils there we can kill some of them before they get to us.  And now both closely watching the wagons I fired the shot.  Still as death and not a move for a moment, and then as if by magic a man came out from under a wagon and stood up looking all around, for he did not see us.  Then he threw up his arms high over his head and shouted—­“The boys have come.  The boys have come!” Then other bare heads appeared, and Mr. Bennett and wife and Mr. Arcane came toward us as fast as ever they could.  The great suspense was over and our hearts were first in our mouths, and then the blood all went away and left us almost fainting as we stood and tried to step.  Some were safe perhaps all of those nearest us, and the dark shadow of death that had hovered over us, and cast what seemed a pall upon every thought and action, was lifted and fell away a heavy oppression gone.  Bennett and Arcane caught us in their arms and embraced us with all their strength, and Mrs. Bennett when she came fell down on her knees and clung to me like a maniac in the great emotion that came to her, and not a word was spoken.  If they had been strong enough they would have carried us to camp upon their shoulders.  As it was they stopped two or three times, and turned as if to speak, but there was too much feeling for words, convulsive weeping would choke the voice.

All were a little calmer soon, and Bennett soon found voice to say:—­“I know you have found some place, for you have a mule,” and Mrs. Bennett through her tears, looked staringly at us as she could hardly believe our coming back was a reality, and then exclaimed:—­“Good boys!  O, you have saved us all!  God bless you forever!  Such boys should never die!” It was some time before they could talk without weeping.  Hope almost died within them, and now when the first bright ray came it almost turned reason from its throne.  A brighter happier look came to them than we had seen, and then they plied us with questions the first of which was:—­“Where were you?”

We told them it must be 250 miles yet to any part of California where we could live.  Then came the question;—­“Can we take our wagons?” “You will have to walk,” was our answer, for no wagons could go over that unbroken road that we had traveled.  As rapidly and carefully as we could we told them of our journey, and the long distance between the water holes; that we had lost no time and yet had been twenty six days on the road; that for a long distance the country was about as dry and desolate as the region we had crossed east of this camp.  We told them of the scarcity of grass, and all the reasons that had kept us so long away from them.