Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1890-03-05

No one who has mos crossed . doeRs
can possibly imagine the fearful condi-
ton TO which . want Of water reduces
him: the food Is swallowed with dim
Guilty. and the system is faint with fever,
while the knowledge Of its absence does
but heixhten the craving OF the body for
its cool refreshment. After our rest We
Get out again. and the time clipped by IN
silence. Later, looking up. saw some
thing, and turned and said 70 Meadows:
Thank God. there is water ahead
See. there is lake few miles OF.
"A lake, exclaimed Moritx Don't
you know what that is;'
What is it. il not a lake." demanded
Meadows.
"a mirage-and nothing else" said
the elder NORTH
"a mirage!" cried. ''Why, can see
the water; there are the reflections Of
the trees and deer drinking.
You'll see what'll become Of your
lake. mynheer. and your trees and your
deer, a. We CO." he replied with short
laugh. NO! you'll see no water till
we're out Of the Karroo and at Verbeck's
farm"
Far away overhead in the brazen sky
was single vulture that made one dizzy
to look at. An hour later the stumbling
horses suddenly pricked mp their ears.
and the leaders neighed.
There is water" said NORTH, in an
undertone Of surprise You may de-
ceive a man, but you can't deceive q
horse"
True enough, in short time we came
up to a nearly dried pool Of filthy water,
little more than mud, as thick as por-
ridge and as brown as chocolate, towards
which the horses rushed with new en-
ergy 1t was cruel act, but we pulled
up suddenly. and Adolph and his brother
leaped to the ground and held them back
while Meadows and l ran forward and
scooped up the liquid and strained it
through handkerchief until we had col
lected q large kettleful. Then we out
spanned and let the horses go, and stood
and watched them as they eagerly licked
up the muddy compound. One may ask
how it was this little pool should be in
the road tracks Of the desert, where.
a. far as we knew, no rain had
fallen. cannot tell; only know
that it was there and that 1t saved
our lives. A fire was made. and the
kettle set on it; we knew We had the
water and could wait. 1t was boiled,
to free it from impurities and germs it
might contain, and then, when properly
heated, we again strained it through a
handkerchief, afterward pouring it all
into a porous pitcher we had with us,
and. incasing that again with strip Of
wet flannel, we placed the pitcher in the
sun. where the evaporation of the steam
ing flannel cooled the water inside to q
delicious freshness, though it could not
improve the flavor.
We drank a large cupful each-it was
the color Of polished mahogany-and put
the rest into the wagon, shaking our thirst
as we drove on. Just before the sun set,
a globe of crimson fire in an empty,
quivering sky we saw before us, touched
with his last beams, distant fringe Of
trees, and we knew we were nearing our
journeys end, for Verbeck's farm lay be-
hind that distant foliage. Our last meal
was eaten on the desert, our last rest
taken till the moon was up, and then on
again we "rekked" through a silent
world.
At midnight Of that same day we
walked our weary horses up to the farm
gate, and were met by the hospital farmer
verbeck and his family, heralded by the
troop of dogs that are invariably to be
found hanging about the Dutch farm
houses. Our journey across the Karroo
was accomplished and we had reached
the farm Of mooifontein beautiful wa
teri. Behind the white walled house
and shaded trees ran a small river to
which We led the horses before taking
them to the barn; and later, over an I'M
promptu supper, we told Verbeck the
latest news from the civilized world,
and slept that night with grateful sense
of perils overcome, far into the morning
light Of the following day.-Illustrated
London News.