Early in the morning, much refreshed, they started on again with rather sober faces.  That night one man insisted on sleeping with his clothes and boots all on, for he said if he died he wanted to die in full dress.  Another day and some thought they could see trees on the mountains ahead of them, and this renewed their courage greatly.  In the middle of the day they suffered greatly with the heat and the dry air seemed to drink up every bit of moisture from everybody.  When they killed an ox they saved the blood and ate it.  The intestines, cleaned with the fingers, made food when roasted on the fire, and pieces of hide, singed and roasted, helped to sustain life.  The water was nearly all gone.  Only power of will and strength of body had kept any.  Capt.  Asa Haines sat down one day and said he could go no farther, but his comrade, L.D.  Stephens, who had kept a little rice, a little tea, and a dry crust of bread for time of need, took a little water in a cup and made some soup which he forced his friend to eat and soon he revived and was able to move on again.  That was true friendship.

The next night Stevens himself awoke and seemed perishing with thirst.  He crawled over to Doty’s bed and begged for just one sup of water, Doty in the goodness of his heart, took his canteen from under his head divided the last few drops with him and the death which threatened him was held off.  Capt.  Doty found it necessary to talk very seriously to those who mourned and talked of failing.  He never gave up in the least.  He encouraged all to make every step they could and know no such word as fail.  When they said that death would be easier than life, he told them so, but that life was possible if they only willed it, and a better life than had been theirs.  And so he kept them encouraged and kept them putting one foot before the other, pointing out the ever lessening distance to the mountain before them.  He appealed to their manhood.  “Be men,” said he, “Be brave and courageous, and you have more strength than you believe.”  Thus by example and words he proved to be a true captain to his little band.

Their water was all gone, every drop, and still the foot-hills seemed far away.  The supply of meat ran out.  Tom Shannon killed an ox, and when those who had cattle had taken some, the others who had none were told to divide the rest.  There was no water to dress or cook it, but it helped to sustain life.  Entrails, bones, sinews, bits of hide and everything was used.  One man was seen with an ox horn, burning the end in the fire and gnawing away at the softened portion.  It was something terrible to see human beings eating what the dogs would cast aside.  One man saw some moist looking earth on the shady side of a bunch of brush and he dug down and got a handful of it, from which he tried to suck the moisture.  He failed, and the bad taste of the earth made him suffer more than before.  Many bones of horses and cattle now appeared along the trail.  They seemed to have been there a long time, and some were partly decayed.  On this waterless stretch one of their number, a Frenchman, wandered off, searching for water in little hollows or puddles, and never came back to camp.  He was supposed to be dead, but ten years afterward some surveyors found him in a Digger Indian camp.