The
portal to the mountains through which we passed was formed by immense
buttes of yellow clay and sand, with large flakes of mica and seams of
gypsum. Nothing could be more forlorn and desolate in appearance. The
gypsum had given some consistency to the sand buttes, which were washed
into fantastic figures. One ridge formed apparently a complete circle,
giving it the appearance of a crater; and although some miles to the
left, I should have gone to visit it, supposing it to be a crater, but
my mule was sinking with thirst, and water was yet at some distance.
Many animals were left on the road to die of thirst and hunger, in
spite of the generous efforts of the men to bring them to the spring.
More than one was brought up, by one man tugging at the halter and
another pushing up the brute, by placing his shoulder against its
buttocks. Our most serious loss, perhaps, was that of one or two fat
mares and colts brought with us for food; for, before leaving camp,
Major Swords found in a concealed place one of the best pack mules
slaughtered, and the choice bits cut from his shoulders and flanks,
stealthily done by some mess less provident than others.
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