They began to labour under serious apprehensions.

The appetite of thirst became stronger than that of hunger--its cravings more difficult to be endured.
Guided by the buffalo-tracks, they rode gloomily on, in the midst of a white cloud that enveloped them throughout all that fearful journey.
They had no difficulty in following the trail.

The heavy dust showed where the drove had passed; and every here and there great circular hollows showed where the buffaloes had "wallowed." The hope that these animals, guided by their usual instincts, had gone in the direction of water, to some degree sustained our travellers in their onward struggle.
The shades of evening were closing over the earth, and the alabaster hills were assuming an ashy blue colour, when the little cavalcade emerged from the dusty ravines of gypsum, and once more trod the green prairie.

The country before them was still rolling, but they kept on along the well marked trail--their animals stepping more freely, as if inspired with new hope at the change which had taken place upon the surface.

There was something in the appearance of the landscape ahead that led to the belief that water was not far distant; and, sure enough, it was not; for, on mounting the crest of a prairie-swell, over which ran the buffalo-trail, a small rivulet was espied in the glen below.