He put the company on rations at the time of starting; ten ounces of flour to each adult, four ounces to children, with bacon, sugar, coffee, and rice served occasionally; for he had been unable to obtain a full supply of provisions. Even in the first days of the march some of the men would eat their day’s allowance for breakfast, depending on the generosity of settlers by the way, so long as there were any, for what food they had until another morning. They were sternly rebuked by their leader for thus, without shame, eating the bread of ungodliness. Their first trouble after leaving the Missouri was with the carts; their construction in all its details had been dictated from on high, but the dust of the parched prairie sifted into the wooden hubs, and ground the axles so that they broke. This caused delay for repairs, and as there was no axle grease, many of them, hungry as they were, used their scanty allowance of bacon to grease the wheels. Yet in spite of these hardships they were cheerful, and in the early days of the march they sang with spirit, to the tune of “A Little More Cider,” the hymn of the hand-cart written by one of their number: “Hurrah for the Camp of Israel! Hurrah for the hand-cart scheme! Hurrah, hurrah! ’tis better far Than the wagon and ox-team. “Oh, our faith goes with the hand-carts, And they have our hearts’ best love; ’Tis a novel mode of travelling Designed by the Gods above. “And Brigham’s their executive, He told us their design; And the Saints are proudly marching on Along the hand-cart line. “Who cares to go with the wagons? Not we who are free and strong. Our faith and arms with a right good will Shall push our carts along.” At Wood River the plains seethed with buffalo, a frightened herd of which one night caused a stampede of their cattle. After that the frail carts had to relieve the wagons of a part of their loads, in order that the remaining animals could draw them, each cart taking on a hundred more pounds. Thus, overworked and insufficiently fed, they pushed valiantly on under burning suns, climbing the hills and wading the streams with their burdens, the vigorous in the van. For a mile behind the train straggled the lame and the sick. Here would be an aged sire in Israel walking painfully, supported by a son or daughter; there a mother carrying a child at her breast, with others holding by her skirts; a few went on crutches.