If the snow in the mountains has begun to melt, we'll have a time getting across." That afternoon, a hot wind blew in my face, carrying fine sand that cut and blinded.

It filled my throat, sending me to the water cask till I was ashamed.

When I fell into my bed at night, I never turned.

The next day was hotter; the wind blew harder; the sand stung sharper.
About noon the following day, the horses whinnied, and the mules roused out of their tardy gait.

"They smell water," said Emmett.