Each of the party, with sad heart and quivering voice, all doing their best to present an indifferent exterior, bade the waiting members of their families, the gathered neighbors, and the members of the survey crew a hearty goodbye, and drove northward, knowing full well that their toilsome progress across the valley would be followed by tear stained eyes and aching hearts, until the evening shades settled and the thin spiral column of dust, watched for a time after the object which caused it to mount high into the heated atmosphere had been hidden by a cloak of darkness. The first night out the travelers spent at a small spring that flowed in a feeble stream down the rock ledge that formed the northern boundary of the desert, and sank from sight, being swallowed by the thirsty sands. It was a hard drive that brought them to this place, and during the hours that intervened between their departure from the well and arrival at their first camp, was spent in almost silence. Each of those present seemed lost in silent contemplation of the difficulties that confronted him. Various subjects had been brought up for discussion, followed for a few moments, and then were allowed to drop. All except Travis Gully, who was driving, seemed lost to their surroundings. It was a varied assortment of which this little group of men was composed, taken at random from various points, from different walks of life, no common interest in the way of mechanics or profession, yet bound together by stronger ties, a mutual understanding of each other's absorbing ambition to build a home; appreciating to the fullest extent the difficulties and hardships endured, the disappointments and suffering caused by the one common affliction, poverty. There was the muscular iron molder from Pittsburg, who would sit, with half closed eyes, and liken the heat of the desert to the fiery glow of the familiar furnaces; the clouds of dust to the dense smoke of his home city, and ask himself: "Had he moved wisely?" The pressman, from one of the largest printing establishments in Denver, who would in dreamy silence listen to the constant clatter of the wagon, and in fancy hearing the rumble of his once favorite machine, the press, rolling out in endless sheets items of news, gathered from all over the world; suddenly the wagon wheel strikes a stone, and with a lurch, he starts with outstretched hand to adjust a roller, replace a belt, or take up the torn web. Smiles feebly at his absentmindedness and resumes his seat. The professor, who for years taught in a college in Kansas, watched with earnest gaze each specimen of desert plant life that struggled for existence beside the dusty road, unable to release himself from the desire to increase his botanical knowledge. An exsoldier and Travis Gully, the farmer, completed this incongruous party.