Such a poor soil as this we were anxious to get away from, and walk once more on a soil that would grow something besides stunted sage brush.

From all appearances the Jayhawkers were here in about the same predicament Rogers and I were when we lost the trail.

By their tracks we could see they had scattered wide and there was no road left for us to follow, and they had evidently tried to follow our former tracks.

Having no trail to follow we passed on as best we could and came to a wide piece of land on which were growing a great many cabbage trees.

The soil was of the finest dust with no grit in it, and not long before a light shower had fallen, making it very soft and hard to get along in with the moccasins.
The women had to stop to rest frequently, so our progress was very slow.
Rogers and I had feet about as hard as those of the oxen, so we removed our moccasins and went barefoot, finding we could get along much easier in that way, but the others had such tender feet they could not endure the rough contact with the brush and mud.