This wonderful spot in the level plain, with a spring of pure water making an oasis of green willows and grass has been previously spoken of as:—­“A spring of good water, and a little willow patch in a level desert away from any hill.”  In all our wanderings we had never seen the like before.  No mountaineer would ever think of looking here for water, much less ever dream of finding a lone spring away out in the desert, several miles from the mountain’s base.  Where the range we just came through leaves the mother mountain stands a peak, seemingly alone, and built up of many colored rocks, in belts, and the whole looks as if tipped with steel.

Arcane’s boy Charley still suffered from his bogus measles or whatever else his disorder might be, and Bennett’s little Martha grew more quiet and improved considerably in health, though still unable to walk, and still abdominally corpulent.  The other two children George and Melissa seemed to bear up well and loved to get off and walk in places where the trail was smooth and level.  Bennett, Arcane and Old Crump usually traveled with the same party as the women, and as each of them had a small canteen to carry water, they could attend to the wants of the children and keep them from worrying and getting sick from fretfulness.  They often carried the two younger ones on their backs to relieve and rest them from their cramped position on the ox.

Arcane used to say he expected the boys—­meaning Rogers and I—­would try to surprise the party by letting them get very near the house before they knew how near they were.  “Be patient Mr. Arcane,” said we, “we can tell you just how many camps there must be before we reach it, and we won’t fool you or surprise you in any way.”  “Well,” said he.  “I was almost in hopes you would, for I like to be disappointed in that way.”  “What do you think the folks will say when we tell them that our little mule packed most of the meat of an ox four miles from one camp to another?” “What will they say when we tell them that the oxen were so poor that there was no marrow in the great thigh bones?” Instead of marrow there was a thick dark liquid something like molasses in consistency, but streaked with different colors which made it look very unwholesome.  Arcane said the whole story was so incredible, that he never should fight anyone, even if he should tell him he lied when he related the strange sad truth.  He said he had no doubt many a one would doubt their story, it was so much beyond what people had ever seen or heard of before, and they might be accused of very strong romancing in the matter.

They all felt more like talking; for we were thus far safe and sound, and though there was a desperate struggle of seventy-five miles or more, from this place to the next water in the foot-hills.  Possibly the snow storms had left a little in some of the pools, but we made no calculations on any.  The promised land we had so steadily been approaching, and now comparatively so near, gave us great hope, which was better than food and drink to give us strength.