that's goin' to get us back on the right road."

"What will he do for water?"

"Take an empty cask behind the saddle and trust to God."

"But there's water in one of our casks yet."

"Yes, he knows it, but he's goin' to leave that for us. And we got to
hang on to it, Missy. Do you understand that?"

She nodded, frowning and biting her underlip.

"Are you feelin' bad?" said the old man uneasily.

"Not a bit," she answered. "Don't worry about me."

He laid a hand on her shoulder and looked into her face with eyes that
said more than his tongue could.

"You're as good a man as any of us. When we get to California we'll
have fun laughing over this."

He gave the shoulder a shake, then drew back and picked up his rifle.

"I'll get you a rabbit for supper if I can," he said with his cackling
laugh. "That's about the best I can do."

He left her trailing off into the reddened reaches of the sage, and she
went back to the rock, thinking that in some overlooked hollow, water
might linger. She passed the mouth of the dead spring, then skirted
the spot where David lay, a motionless shape under the canopy of the
blanket. A few paces beyond him a buttress extended and, rounding it,
she found a triangular opening inclosed on three sides by walls, their
summits orange with the last sunlight. There had once been water here
for the grasses, and thin-leafed plants grew rank about the rock's
base, then outlined in sere decay what had evidently been the path of a
streamlet. She knelt among them, thrusting her hands between their
rustling stalks, jerking them up and casting them away, the friable
soil spattering from their roots.

The heat was torrid, the noon ardors still imprisoned between the
slanting walls. Presently she sat back on her heels, and with an
earthy hand pushed the moist hair from her forehead. The movement
brought her head up, and her wandering eyes, roving in morose
inspection, turned to the cleft's opening. Courant was standing there,
watching her. His hands hung loose at his sides, his head was drooped
forward, his chin lowered toward his throat. The position lent to his
gaze a suggestion of animal ruminance and concentration.

"Why don't you get David to do that?" he said slowly.

The air in the little cleft seemed to her suddenly heavy and hard to
breathe. She caught it into her lungs with a quick inhalation.
Dropping her eyes to the weeds she said sharply, "David's sick. He
can't do