ed skies in
general until now.

This sky was so deeply, wonderfully blue, the stars so real, alive and
sparkling, that all other stars she had ever seen paled before them into
mere imitations. The spot looked like one of Taylor's pictures of the
Holy Land. She half expected to see a shepherd with his crook and sheep
approaching her out of the dim shadows, or a turbaned, white-robed David
with his lifted hands of prayer standing off among the depths of purple
darkness. It would not have been out of keeping if a walled city with
housetops should be hidden behind the clumps of sage-brush farther on.
'Twas such a night and such a scene as this, perhaps, when the wise men
started to follow the star!

But one cannot sit on the edge of a water-tank in the desert night
alone and muse long on art and history. It was cold up there, and the
howling seemed nearer than before. There was no sign of a light or a
house anywhere, and not even a freight-train sent its welcome clatter
down the track. All was still and wide and lonely, save that terrifying
sound of the beasts; such stillness as she had not ever thought could
be--a fearful silence as a setting for the awful voices of the wilds.

The bruises and scratches she had acquired set up a fine stinging, and
the cold seemed to sweep down and take possession of her on her high,
narrow seat. She was growing stiff and cramped, yet dared not move much.
Would there be no train, nor any help? Would she have to sit there all
night? It looked so very near to the ground now. Could wild beasts
climb, she wondered?

Then in the interval of silence that came between the calling of those
wild creatures there stole a sound. She could not tell at first what it
was. A slow, regular, plodding sound, and quite far away. She looked to
find it, and thought she saw a shape move out of the sage-brush on the
other side of the track, but she could not be sure. It might be but a
figment of her brain, a foolish fancy from looking so long at the
huddled bushes on the dark plain. Yet something prompted her to cry out,
and when she heard her own voice she cried again and louder, wondering
why she had not cried before.

"Help! Help!" she called; and again: "Help! Help!"

The dark shape paused and turned toward her. She was sure now. What if
it were a beast instead of a human! Terrible fear took possession of
her; then, to her infinite relief, a nasal voice sounded out:

"Who's thar?"

But when she opene