r a moment, not a word was spoken, back from the
distant hills came the sound, as of many voices, bearing the burden--

"O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."

Three cheers were given for the invisible songsters, who as heartily
responded.

Then we shouldered our tools and in single file followed the footsteps
of the guide's pony into the darkness which surrounded us. All along
the line jokes passed from man to man, laughter rang out in merry
peals, and occasionally a song burst forth. All was joy and mirth.

Our course lay principally over an extensive plain. In the distance
before us could be seen the irregular outline of the mountains toward
which we are making our way. After marching eighteen and a half miles
we came to our camp ground, and a most dismal one it is. No grass to be
seen--nothing but deep sand and sage bushes; no wood nor chips to be
found, and in their place only small twigs and sage bushes to burn; the
only water that from a spring which furnishes poor water and
insufficient quantities of that. The low ground about, which is all
moist, is encrusted with nitrate of soda, magnesia, and potash. A
severe storm of hail and rain occurred after we reached camp, and
between mud and inconvenience our patience was sorely tried. But I
believe, like "Mark Tapley," the worse the circumstances the jollier we
felt.

The Company train came up and joined us this evening, and our tents
were all pitched together. Our tools were turned in, as we are not to
go in advance as a working party any more.

_July 16_ (Friday). We went only six and a half miles to-day, owing to
so many places in the road requiring work. We encamped about a half
mile from Haystack Springs, situated in a deep, rocky ravine at the
base of the mountains, the name derived from three or four high rocks
in the vicinity which bear a strong resemblance, in color and shape, to
haystacks. The country over which we passed is rocky, rough, and
densely covered with wild sage, through which we struggled at the risk
of decorating the bushes with shreds of our clothing and staining them
with our blood, which trickled from numerous scratches inflicted by the
thorny branches. No living thing is found among these sage bushes
except sage hens, a spectral looking hare, ravens, ticks, and ants.

_July 17_ (Saturday). We marched fourteen and a half miles and encamped
at "Wolfs Spring," discovered by one of our Indian hunters, Wolf, and
named