The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-10-06
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the hot air, raised from some distant sand hill
| by the whirlwinds. On be plods, hour after
! hour. looking anxionsly for the faint wheel
marks that guide him. The hot wind burns
his eyes and dries his lips, and he moistens his
parched mouth now aud then witlla few drops
| Of the precious water he is unselfish enough,
too, to spare his dog q little. ri The water does
not refresh him much, for it is very warm and
mawkish, and the rim of the tin pot almost
scorches his lips. AT last he sees a dark gray
cloud suspended over the horizon, quiveFing
in the glare OF reflected heat. He knows that
cloud to be the low timber that skirts the dry
bed of the twentymile lake; he expects to
find water in a pit dug on its edge. Drinking
the last OF his store, he walks on more quick
~; knowing that on such day the trees would
not be visible more than couple of miles, he
bTgins TO have pleasant thoughts OF q pot OF
tea" pipe, and sleep in the shade Of a tree.
he hurries on, the afternoon sun is shining IN
his face, he crosses beaten track almost with
out seeing it.. Perhaps thought may arise
within him as to thepossibility of the pole be-
ing dry, but he viii not think oft. Everything
seems strangely still; why are there no birds
about the water? Not the twittefing OF a
wren, not the croak of crow to break the 81
lence. He notices, with qualm of fear, that
there is no tootniark Of living thing In the
dust of the cattlepaths that lead to the wateT-
hole. ole.------.----------------s .I.raIsaa sgaK zs
Who can tel what p ssthraugh the mind
of The lost sailor. as he Tces1 Overheard in a
gale Of the Horn? Whosca1 realize what that
seaman feels, as the great ship leaves rim, far
behind, upon the pitilass waves, among which
he knows too well, no boat can live to save
him? And this shepherd, as he looks into the
pit, and sees grim death staring himszin the
face,s from the dry mud at the bottom of the
hole? He has heard his mates talk Of dead
mems bones found en- that plain, and he knows
what his end is to be- Poor fellow He is
very thirsty now, his tongue is swelling in his
mouth, he feels giddy and sick and throws
away lispacls. He will stagger on few miles
more, hardly knowing Whther he is going,
hlrei on, perhaps, by the treaeherous mirage
which viii mock his eyes with phantom sheets
ofclear water, rejecting the trees around them,
and Ifppling in the wind, only few hundred
yards ahead He win wander on at random,
throwing Off his clothes; as he becomes weak
er, perhaps he viii feel his knife, and think of
his dog; but his dogh lain down to die un-
der bush, and that last horrible resource is
gone. Then, a gleam Of hope Two dark
forms looming large against the red smoky
mist in which the sun is setting, come up rap
idly until within half a mile of him. Are they
horsemen2l They stop. Do they see him?-
Yes, they have seen him, and they fly before
.t1e hot wind he knows that they are emus
going to water, and that their long legs. will
carry them to the cool river in two hours or
so. 6 J s.. z9Yo sasoor % q
Many months after, some wandering stock
man may see some bones lying on the plain,
and may curse the wild dogs for killing calves;
he viii never notice the round white skull un-
der saltbush few yards oG-[All the Year
Round & - Il y