It was now about half past four. Up to this time I had not had a drop of water, although I had hunted for it in creeks and "hog wallows." The cravings of appetite did not bother me much--my thirst was too keen. Arriving at the point just mentioned, I discovered a pool of muddy water, and getting on my hands and knees, I proceeded to slake my thirst. I took one swallow, and it burnt my throat like molten lead. It was alkali water, and the strongest I ever tasted. It was a bitter disappointment, but it was near night; I was but a few miles from town, and under the cover of darkness I could get water and maybe something to eat. Night at last arrived, and under its sable folds I reached the railroad bed, and proceeded on my way--my place of destination, Merced. About seven o'clock I reached the outskirts of the town, and, proceeding cautiously to Fourteenth street, through Chinatown, crossed the railroad track below the El Capitan Hotel. Just as I stepped on the track two men passed on their way to town--evidently men from one of the farms beyond Merced. I was then about five hundred yards from my home, and I determined at any risk to find out the fate of my would be brother and poor dear mother, (whom I expected home on Monday night). Crawling on my hands and knees to within one hundred yards of the house (which was the last one at the west end of Seventeenth street), I watched for about five minutes to see if the place was under the surveillance of the mob. Discovering no indication of any one on the outside, I crept along, reached the back door, and cautiously tried to get a view into the interior, but could see nothing, as the windows were covered with heavy curtains. I shuddered at the gloomy appearance of everything about the house; I wondered if any of the family were dead within. I then opened the back door, and looking in discovered the children and a neighbor lady, Mrs. Keogh. When I opened the door the children ran off frightened, as they did not know who I was. I hastily asked Mrs. Keogh where the family was. She replied "all gone." "Are they all alive?" She answered "yes." Just then I heard a noise at the front door and beat a hasty retreat out the back door. I dare not venture back where there were so many children, so I went to another part of town, where I knew almost to a certainty those who were thirsting for my blood. I ventured to look into the house of two persons whom I did not know, I saw them through the windows of their house, and knew that if they were not friends they were not enemies. Going to the door, I rapped. The door was opened, and standing in the dark I requested a drink of water, which was handed to me. It was the first water I had tasted since leaving the Half-Way House. I then stepped boldly into the room and said: "I suppose you know who I am? I am Granice." They remarked, "Yes." "Well," said I, "give me something to eat; I am almost starved."