We wandered the rest of the day without striking Sy’s well. I could tell his frustration was mounting at his inability to locate it.
Finally Elijah signaled for a halt in an area we all judged fit for a camp.
Sy, however, continued to roam about, muttering he was sure it was near at hand. The next morning the Captain stumbled upon it. Actually he tripped and fell on his face.
The well had been filled in, packed with rocks. We gathered around it on our knees to remove them. Only to discover the water there had been befouled too. Unfit to drink.
Elijah took up his staff and stirred the water with its tip, drawing out all the impurities.
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