76 Audubon's Western Journal 



moisture seemed to have left the face of nature, 

 the distant prairies, broken only here and there by 

 a musquit, gave a wild desolation to the scene, 

 and as we fell into line without an order being 

 given, I thought I had never seen a more forlorn, 

 haggard set of men. Sadly indeed, did we bear 

 our late companion to his last home, and when we 

 reached the grave only eleven men had had 

 strength to follow. We lowered the body with 

 our lariats and I read the funeral service. As I 

 said, "Let us pray," all kneeled, and when I added 

 a short but heartfelt prayer for courage, energy 

 and a return of health to our ill-fated company, 

 not a dry eye was amongst us; not one man but 

 felt our position one of solemnity seldom, if ever, 

 experienced before by any of us. We returned to 

 our desolate camp to look on others still in danger 

 and needing consolation, even if we could not give 

 relief. So ended our last day on the banks of the 

 Alamo, and we retired to our tents to think on who 

 might be the next to go, all ideas of business being 

 for the time driven from our minds; even those 

 not ill, seemed almost apathetic. 



March 2jd. Again came morning with its 

 fiery sun burning and drying everything. Break- 

 fast was tasted, but not eaten. A committee from 

 the company came to know what should be done. 

 Col. Webb with one of our doctors and four men 

 went ofT to Mier, to get out of the sun, for with all 



