It was slow work getting water for them all, but by being patient they were all filled up.

Some took two canteens of water and hurried back to Mr.Ischam, whom they found still alive but his mouth and throat so dry and parched, and his strength so small that he was unable to swallow a single drop, and while they waited he breathed his last.

With their hands and feet they dug away the sand for a shallow grave, placed the body in it, covered it with his blankets, and then scraped the sand back over again to make a little mound over their dead comrade.

Perhaps if he could have walked a mile farther he might have lived, and but for the little trickling stream of water from the rocks they might all be dead, so slight were the circumstances that turned the scale to balance toward life or death.
There was so little feed for oxen that they could gain no strength, but were much refreshed by the water and could still travel.

One was killed here, and the meat, poor as it was, gave the men new strength.