that the little rain-cloud was sent by God for his special benefit, and that the water caught from that cloud was the sweetest and best that he had ever tasted.  I did not doubt the latter half of the above statement, but I did have some doubt about the truth of the former half when I called to mind the scene which followed my refusal to bleed the horse.  Whether the small quantity of water gave him much relief, or not, I do not know, but I do know that he soon became better and slept some while I watched.  He was quite feeble next morning when I put him on the old sore-backed mule, where he rode most of the time for the next four days, while the little horse carried our baggage, and I led the way as usual, on foot.

For four days from the time Field ate the little red berries we did not have a drop of water except the two or three teaspoonfuls which the stingy cloud left to save the life of the “berry-eater.”  We were still on the desert, or in the mountains east of the river, traveling hard during the day, and burning up with fever in the night.  There was plenty of drying grass in places, but our poor animals could not eat it any longer, for they, too, were burning up for want of water.  Oh, how much I did wish that we had some camels from Arabia, which could have gone so much longer without water, and traveled so much faster.

On the morning of the third day of starvation, we determined to change our course, and, if possible, reach the river once more.  Bearing to the left over a high, barren range of rocky mountains, and down into a plain of sand, sage brush, and cactus.  During the afternoon I shot a small rabbit, not much larger than a rat, which we carried until night, then broiled and tried to eat it, not because our appetites craved it, but hoping that it might strengthen and sustain us, at least a little while longer.  We were, however, so nearly burned up that there was not a sufficient flow of saliva to moisten the little bits of broiled meat in the mouth.  Late that afternoon we fancied that our fast failing brute companions scented water, or that they instinctively knew that it was not far away.  They would raise their heads, and extend their noses as if smelling, while their physical force and energy seemed renewed, and they certainly traveled faster.

That night we ate the little, as before stated, more as a duty than as a pleasure.  There was some green grass round about where we camped, or, more properly speaking, where we lay, for we did not erect our little tent,—­but the poor starving animals did not eat a bite of it, but stood over us as if in sympathy with us in our deplorable condition.  We rose before the sun, being somewhat rested and refreshed, for the night had been cool, and took up our line of march, I, as usual, in the lead, then came the old mule guided by its precious owner, and lastly, the faithful little horse with the pack on his still quite round back;—­on over the still dry and barren plain we went, without a Moses, cloud, or pillar of fire to lead us.