the drifting herd. It was nearly noon the next day before the cattle
began to arrive at the water holes in squads of from twenty to fifty.
Pitiful objects as they were, it was a novelty to see them reach the
water and slack their thirst. Wading out into the lakes until their
sides were half covered, they would stand and low in a soft moaning
voice, often for half an hour before attempting to drink. Contrary to
our expectation, they drank very little at first, but stood in the
water for hours. After coming out, they would lie down and rest for
hours longer, and then drink again before attempting to graze, their
thirst overpowering hunger. That they were blind there was no
question, but with the causes that produced it once removed, it was
probable their eyesight would gradually return.

By early evening, the rear guard of our outfit returned and reported
the tail end of the herd some twenty miles behind when they left them.
During the day not over a thousand head reached the lakes, and towards
evening we put these under herd and easily held them during the night.
All four of the men who constituted the rear guard were sent back the
next morning to prod up the rear again, and during the night at least
a thousand more came into the lakes, which held them better than a
hundred men. With the recovery of the cattle our hopes grew, and with
the gradual accessions to the herd, confidence was again completely
restored. Our saddle stock, not having suffered as had the cattle,
were in a serviceable condition, and while a few men were all that
were necessary to hold the herd, the others scoured the country for
miles in search of any possible stragglers which might have missed the
water.

During the forenoon of the third day at the lakes, Nat Straw, the
foreman of Ellison's first herd on the trail, rode up to our camp. He