114 NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY 



it, and then commenced, with axes and knives, to dig it out and 

 enlarge it. By the time that Mr. N., and myself arrived, they 

 had excavated a large space which was filled to overflowing with 

 muddy water. We did not wait for it to settle, however, but 

 throwing ourselves flat upon the ground, drank until we were 

 ready to burst. The tales which I had read of suffering travellers 

 in the Arabian deserts, then recurred with some force to my re- 

 collection, and I thought I could, — though in a very small 

 measure, — appreciate their sufferings by deprivation, and their 

 unmingled delight and satisfaction in the opportunity of assuaging 

 them. 



Poor Jim, the mulatto man, was found by one of the people, 

 who went back in search of him, lying where he had first fallen, 

 and either in a real or pretended swoon, still obstinate about 

 dying, and scarcely heeding the assurances of the other that 

 w-ater was within a mile of him. He was, however, at length 

 dragged and carried into camp, and soused head foremost into 

 the mud puddle, where he guzzled and guzzled until his eyes 

 seemed ready to burst from his head, and he was lifted out and 

 laid dripping and flaccid upon the ground. 



The next morning we made an early start towards a range of 

 willows which we could distinctly see, at the distanceof fifteen or 

 twenty miles, and which we knew indicated Goddin's creek, so 

 called from a Canadian of that name who was killed in this 

 vicinity by the Blackfcet. Goddin's son, a half-breed, is now 

 with us as a trapper ; he is a fine sturdy fellow, and of such 

 strength of limb and wind, that he is said to be able to run down 

 a buffalo on foot, and kill him with arrows. 



Goddin's creek was at length gained, and after travelling a few 

 miles along its bank we encamped in some excellent pasture. 

 Our poor horses seemed inclined to make up for lost time here, 

 as yesterday their only food was the straggling blades of a little 



