The water at Navajo Springs was said to be pure.
Ten o'clock next morning found us at the springs. They were fifteen in
number, clustered in an area of less than an acre. Each was of the
dimensions of a barrel set upon end in the ground, with a mere thread
of water flowing from it--a thread which the fierce sun evaporated
before it had flowed a rod from its source. It soon became plain to
every one that we could not long remain there.
The Indians had said there had been a heavy rainfall at the west. Five
and one-twentieth miles over a rough, red, and verdureless country
brought us to the Rio Puerco of the West. There was not a drop of
water in it.
The commanding officer ordered me to take ten cavalrymen, with
shovels, and go on to Carizo Creek, and, if I found no running water,
to sink holes in a line across its bed. The boy corporals were allowed
to go with me.
The distance to Carizo was seven miles, over a high, intervening
ridge, and the creek, when we reached it, was in no respect different
from the one we had just left.
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