The next day dragged along in the same manner; the command
marching bravely along through dust and heat and thirst, as
Kipling's soldier sings:


"With its best foot first
And the road
a-sliding past,
An' every bloomin' campin'-ground
Exactly like the last".


Beal's Springs did not differ from the other ranch, except that
possibly it was even more desolate. But a German lived there, who
must have had some knowledge of cooking, for I remember that we
bought a peach pie from him and ate it with a relish. I remember,
too, that we gave him a good silver dollar for it.

The only other incident of that day's march was the suicide of
Major Worth's pet dog "Pete." Having exhausted his ability to
endure, this beautiful red setter fixed his eye upon a distant
range of mountains, and ran without turning, or heeding any call,
straight as the crow flies, towards them and death. We never saw
him again; a ranchman told us he had known of several other
instances where a well-bred dog had given up in this manner, and
attempted to run for the hills. We had a large greyhound with us,
but he did not desert.

Major Worth was much affected by the loss of his dog, and did not