blackberries, which afforded us an unexpected and welcome treat. We encamped here for the night; and did not hobble the horses,[1] as we were certain the luxurious herbage of the prairie would prevent them from wandering.
At four A. M. on the 16th we set off from our encampment, still pursuing a northerly course. The country still champaign, and the grass long and coarse, but loosely imbedded in a sandy soil. About eight we came to a fine spring, at which we breakfasted, as our guide told us we should not find water beyond it for a great distance. After waiting here a few hours, we reloaded, and pursued our journey in the same direction. During the remainder of the day no "green spot bloomed on the desert" around us. The country was completely denuded of wood; and as far as the eye extended, nothing was visible but immense plains covered with parched brown grass, swarming with rattlesnakes. The horses suffered dreadfully, as well as their masters, from heat and thirst. Two fine pointers belonging to Mr. Clarke were so exhausted that we were compelled to leave them behind, and never saw them
- ↑ When we were apprehensive that the horses might wander from an encampment, their two fore legs were tied together. This we called hobbling.
