TO SAN FELIPE CITY 261 



heat into the scarcely cooler air of the night. We 

 had made a fifteen hours' march with one stop of 

 less than an hour at midday. 



At first daylight we took the horses again to the 

 hole, thinking they would by now be forced to drink. 

 Wellson's animals both drank a little, though with 

 every token of repugnance; but Kaweah would 

 have none of it, though he snuffed eagerly at each 

 bucketful I brought him. Probably the water, be- 

 sides being alkaline and stagnant, was putrid with 

 dead animals — birds, snakes, possibly a coyote or 

 two. My gorge rises now when I think of the place. 



Breakfast almost ended our own water, and the 

 first necessity for all concerned was to get to a new 

 supply. Six miles to the north a settler had sunk a 

 well and obtained a small flow, sufficient for house- 

 hold needs, though not for irrigation. We made for 

 this place, my poor Kaweah in distress and panting 

 hard as I led him. 



The relations between man and horse who are 

 much together, especially when for long spells they 

 two are alone, take on a touch of sentiment, on the 

 man's side (and I do not doubt on the other's also), 

 that to some people might seem overdone. The 

 loyalty of the dumb beast, patiently doing his best, 

 accepting his master's will without thought of dis- 

 pute, and taking for granted that his service will 

 be repaid by care for the needs which he is prevented 

 from supplying for himself — the pathos of this 

 becomes better recognized in the daily sharing of 

 chances. And whenever, as here, my trusty com- 

 panion has had to suffer, I have had pangs, I don't 



