The next morning, after taking our breakfast, we moved on, expecting to reach the Barrel Springs about noon, having but one bucket of water left. Noon came, and no water was left in the barrel; and the springs were not yet in sight. Twilight began to curtain the light of day, and our suspicions were aroused lest we had passed the looked-for spot. The weather was warm, the air dry, and our horses that night looked in vain at the empty barrel that lay drying in its hoops, and from which they had quenched their thirst so often. Our sleep that night was haunted with the thought of our probably serious condition; and the next day at early dawn, without breakfast, we hastened in the prescribed direction, knowing that if we had passed the springs, which was the most probable, it might be many miles before we could again find the cooling fluid so essential to life. To turn back to find it was equally as uncertain, so we determined to go forward. The plain grew very sandy, and the sun, without one cloud to veil its brightness, darted its torrid rays upon us with mighty power. Each hour of that long day was an anxious year, and greater pains than we took at every little green spot and hollow to find water by digging deep into the soil could not be taken by any one searching for a morsel upon which hung the last hope of mortal life. Our _horses_, too, by their tardy gait, showed their great weariness; and the whole was truly a thirsty outfit. Night came and no water. That night there was not one cloud in the sky; but the moon did not seem bright to our eyes, and the stars did not seem to twinkle. We were alone in the desert, deserted by all animation, and without one single thing to whisper to us a word of encouragement. To see those poor perishing horses licking that empty barrel, and then gaze at us with their ears dropped to the side of their heads, as if to say, “We are dying of thirst,” was enough to sadden any human, and to call up before our minds the terrible accounts of which we had read of whole outfits of men, women, and little children, whose bones were found withering upon the burning sands. O God! what must be the agony of a parent whose little infants are fast gathering in their innocent countenances the picture of death, and without one drop of water to give them in their last appeal! Softly the night melted into day, and the morn brought no relief. But without showing one spark of discouragement, we pushed on with parched lips. About noon one of the horses became so weak that he could do his part no longer. We unhitched him and put the other one at the end of the tongue; and while I led the fore horse, John whipped the hind one along, followed by the big blood-hound with his great red tongue lolling from his mouth. I imagine many of the most sorrowful sights are only seen by their unfortunate presenters. We would have given five dollars for a cup of water as freely as we ever gave five cents for a glass of soda.