They had followed Old Crump and the children every day with the canteens of water and a little dried meat to give them if they cried too much with hunger, and Arcane had led his ox day after day with a patience that was remarkable, and there was no bad temper shown by any one.

This was the way to do, for if there were any differences, there was no tribunal to settle them by.
In all this desert travel I did not hear any discontent and serious complaint, except in one case, and that was at the Jayhawker's camp, where they burned their wagons at the end of the wagon road, in Death Valley.

Some could not say words bad enough to express their contempt, and laid all the trouble of salt water to Lot's wife.

Perhaps she was in a better position to stand the cursing than any of the party present.
The next day we reached the water holes at the place where Rogers and I stole up to camp fire in the evening, supposing it to be Indians, but finding there Capt.

Doty and his mess, a part of the Jayhawker's band.
By dipping carefully from these holes they filled again, and thus, although there was no flow from them we gradually secured what water we needed for the camp, which was a small amount after so long a time without.