We put our luggage on the oxen and the mule, loaded the children on Old Crump as we had done before, and were ready to move again.

Our good friends stood around and smiled good-naturedly at our queer arrangements, and we, not knowing how to say what our hearts would prompt us to, shook their hands and said good bye in answer to their "_adios amigos_" as we moved away, waving hands to each other.
The men then detained me a little while to ask me more about the road we had come over, how far it was, and how bad the Indians were, and other particulars.

I told him by signs that we had been twenty-two days on the road, and that the _Indianos_, as they called them, had not troubled us, but that there was very little grass or water in all that land.

He made a sort of map on the ground and made me understand he would like to go back and try to bring out the wagons we had left behind, and he wanted me to go back with him and help him.

I explained to him by the map he had made, and one which I made myself, that I considered it impossible to bring them over.