just before daylight and many of the passengers, unable to get to land, were drowned. Watt narrowly escaped by reaching the hurricane deck and wading out of the cabin waist deep in the water. "I thought that worse than all the Indians in the world," is the remark with which he sums up this experience.
Upon reaching home the preparation was made for crossing the continent. A band of sheep had been gotten together during Watt's absence, much to the amusement of the neighbors, who could not believe the enterprise would succeed. The progress, indeed, was slow. When rain fell the mud was deep and in dry weather the dust was equally trying. "I have driven day after day, pushing the sheep along by my knees, and could not see them for the dust," says Watt.
The emigrants of 1848 had a comparatively easy time, and a comfortable journey. They were more numerous, were better provided with necessities and better organized than those of former years. How great the contrast between crossing the plains in 1848 and that which had been the occasion of so many difficulties four years before. The ample outfit consisted of two large freight wagons with five yoke of cattle to each. There was loose cattle and sheep and drivers and herders to help with the work. Watt's familiarity with the route, his knowledge of the best camping places and sources of water supply caused many to look naturally to him as a leader, although the dust that rose from the path of the flock of sheep was too much for a close following. Watt was a lover of a practical joke, and his knowledge of the country often gave him an opportunity to indulge this taste. By his advice a company of the emigrants had been induced to camp by the Dry Sandy with the promise that water would be abundant. When they reached the place there was none to be seen. The bed of the stream was as
