The Hassayampa itself flows through a wild and rocky cañon, with high precipitous walls on either side; and it was soon apparent, that our only alternative was either to flounder through its quicksands, or retrace our steps to Maricopa Wells. The latter was out of the question, as our rations and forage were both about exhausted, and, besides, our improvised ferry-boat had returned to the Gila; so that the only thing left for us was to try the Hassayampa, and get through, somehow, at all hazards. We had heard of a trail, across the ridge and over the mountains, by the Vulture Mine, and so into Wickenburg, by a roundabout course; but a careful reconnoissance revealed no trace of it. We called a "council of war," and discussed the "situation," pro and con, with due gravity, and finally decided that there was nothing for us to do, but to ascend the Hassayampa; and so, into it we plunged. And, verily, it was a _plunge_. Nothing but a prolonged flounder, and plunge, from ten A. M. to six P. M.! Now into the stream; now out on a sand-bank; now deep into a quicksand; crossing and recrossing, from side to side, to take advantage of any land--not less than fifteen or twenty times in the course of the twelve miles! Sometimes a cavalry-man on horseback, "prospecting" the way for the ambulances, would go down, until it seemed impossible to extricate him and his horse. Again, an infantry-man, on foot, would suddenly sink in to his armpits, and call out to his comrades to come and rescue him. Then an ambulance would slip to one side, and half of it commence sinking, while the other half remained on solid ground. Then our six-mule team would go in, and half of the mules would flounder over the tongue, or turn a summerset out of the harness, and, perhaps, come near drowning, before they could be extricated, while the rest would be all right. Now we would be all ashore, clambering along the rocky walls of the cañon, to give the ambulances a better chance; and now, all hands would be out into the water, to start a stalled team, and then such a whooping and shouting, such a whipping and tugging at the wheels, one seldom sees equalled. I campaigned with McClellan, on the Peninsula; I was with Burnside in his Mud Campaign, after Fredericksburg; we had bad roads down in Tennessee and Georgia, when after Joe Johnston and Hood. But this tedious and toilsome drive, through the cañon and quicksands of the Hassayampa, beat all these; and we never would have got through, had we not had light loads, and skilful, plucky, magnificent drivers.