The sun was obscured by clouds, and they knew not in what direction lay the stream they had left--even had they possessed strength enough to have reached it.
They were advancing and discussing whether they should make the attempt, when they came upon a deep buffalo-road that crossed their path.

It was beaten with tracks apparently fresh.

They hailed the sight with joyful exclamations--as they believed that it would lead them to a crossing.
They hesitated not, but riding boldly into it, followed it downward.

As they had anticipated, it wound down to the bottom of the barranca, and passed up to the prairie on the opposite side, where they soon arrived in safety.
This, however, was no termination to their sufferings, which had now grown more acute than ever.

The atmosphere felt like an oven; and the light dust, kicked up by their horses' hoofs, enveloped them in a choking cloud, so that at times they could not see the butte for which they were making.