How much good a crust of bread would have done such a poor creature.

Bread there was none--nothing but the flesh of their poor oxen, wasted and consumed by days of travel and lack of food till it had no goodness in it.

Even the poor oxen, every night seemed to be the end of their walking; every morning it was feared that that would be the last time they would be able to rise upon their feet.
Already five or six days had passed since they left the camp at the willows where they had their last supply of water, and still they were on the desert.

The journey was longer than they had expected, partly owing to the slow progress they had made for there were frequent stops to rest or they could not move at all.

The mountains seemed nearer every day, and the trees were outlined more plainly each morning as they started out.Capt.Doty used every circumstance to encourage them.