They did not sleep even for a moment.

The agonising pangs of thirst as well as the uncertainty of what was before them on the morrow kept them awake.

They did not even picket their horses--for there was no grass near the spot where they were--but sat up all night holding their bridles.

Their poor horses, like themselves, suffered both from thirst and hunger; and the mule Jeanette occasionally uttered a wild hinnying that was painful to hear.
As soon as day broke they remounted, and continued on along the edge of the barranca.

They saw that it still turned in various directions; and, to add to their terror, they now discovered that they could not even retrace the path upon which they had come, without going all the way back on their own tracks.