d his canteen to the bottom. Then he
strode on up the canyon, that was deep and dark as a pocket, following
the trail that should lead him to the spring; but as one mile and two
dragged along with no water, he stopped and hid his rifle among the
rocks. A little later he hid his belt with its heavy row of cartridges,
and the sack of dry, useless food. What he needed was water and when he
had drunk his fill he could come back and collect all his possessions.
Two miles, five miles, he toiled up the creek bed with the cottonwoods
rustling overhead; but though their roots were in the water, the sand
was still dry and his tongue was swelling with thirst.

He stumbled against a stone and fell weakly to the ground, only to leap
to his feet again, frightened. Already it was coming, the stupifying
lassitude, the reckless indifference to his fate, and yet he was hardly
tired. The Valley had not been hot, any more than usual, and he had
walked twice as far before; but now, with water just around the corner,
he was lying down in the sand. He was sleepy, that was it, but he must
get to water first or his pores would close up and he would die. He
stripped off his pistol and threw it in the sand, and his hat, and the
bottle of fiery whiskey; and then, head down, he plunged blindly
forward, rushing on up the trail to find water.

The sun rose higher and poured down into the narrow valley with its
fringe of deceptive green; but though the trees became bigger and
bushier in their tops the water did not come to the surface. It was
underneath the sand, flowing along the bed-rock, and all that was needed
was a solid reef of country-rock to bring it up to the surface. It would
flow over the dyke in a beautiful water-fall, leaping and gurgling and
going to waste; and after he had drunk he would lie down and wallow and
give his whole body a drink. He would soak there for hours, sucking it
up with his parched lips that were cracked now and bleeding from the
drought; and then--he woke up suddenly, to find himself digging in the
sand. He was going mad then, so soon after he was lost, and with water
just up the stream. The creek was dry, where he had found himself
digging, but up above it would be full of water. He hurried on again
and, around the next turn, sure enough, he found a basin of water.

It was hollowed from the rock, a round pool, undimpled, and upon its
surface a pair of wasps floated about with airy grace. Their legs were
outstretch