San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-04-23

form OF his partner he could hardly keep
back the tears.
Crack! crack go Il couple of shots Off to
his left, and he sees the dust flying up
from near his feet. He tries to draw his
limbs up to get them in safer position.
Tries again, and the cold sweat breaks
from him. lie cannot move them!
They are dead-paralyzed!
Something like a sob breaks from him.
1t is all over. In the first flush of possible
| escape he hal not thought of the spine
being injured. He knew it now The game
was played. \ few hours longer at the
best. Tomorrow and the next day, and
the days and the years to come would find
him there. Theend was only question of
a short time. IeV he had only thought it
a scratch.
With his arms he drags himself into q
safer position. This done, he unbuckles
his belt, and as he lays it before him to
have it handy he thinks of the time away
back on the Platte when he had first put
one on. How proud he then felt, as a strip
ling boy, of the outfit! How bright the
future had lookedI And now it was all to
end. After ALL life to him had been hard
one. 1t had brought to him few of the
treasures for which he had longed. For an
shooter and end it alp"
"Suicide2"
"No," he would die fighting.
He would take some of them with him.
Yet, why XII az all They were but saw
ages-Apaches. Their deaths would mean
nothing, would gain nothing. Better to
kill himself and keep from them the salts
faction of doing it. No; relief might come.
nf I hE. M ti of
airy always in the field, or perhaps
party of prospectors might hear the firing,
and then with good doctor all would yet
be we'll. He could find one at any of the
military posts,
All these thoughts and a thousand
others crowded through his brain while
he was placing himself in better position
for defense. Cautiously raising himself
he glanced ever the bowlder in the direc-
ton whence the last shots came. Crack!
crack! crack! the bullets whiz surlily
around him.
Bang! bang! bangl goes the rife.
A new feeling takes possession of him.
His nerves tighten like steel, and he pumps
empty shells out of the rifles chamber and
cartridges in with a fierce speed. KILL
kill! Let him take one of those bowling
| murderers with him, and he doesn't care
how soon after death comes. But what is
the matter with his aim? lie has not yet
killed one, not even s. 't"Icd enc that he
knows Of Ii ret.il5 magazine of his
rife in nervous tr'-"gI.l haste, and then
peeps through IT,, CTevices of the powders
to see if there is an enemy in sight. None.
They are there, though. They are waiting
and he is dying. How hot it isl He is
burning up with thirst and heat. How
''it" hurts He has got so that he thinks
| of his wound only as lit" as if it were
| some terrible monster that he could not
escape.
The blood-small as the quantity-that
| flows from his wound has formed pool,
| clotted and coagulated. 1t adds to his dis
| comfort by its sickness. He thinks how
| strange that ones own blood should annoy
| one so, and then wonders where so many
| flies could have come from, as he raises a
| swarm by the movement of his body. He
| looks across TO where the burro has fallen
| with the canteen, and sees that the vessel
has been damned by coming in contact
with the bowlder and that the precious
| fluid has nearly all run out How much
| he would give to have what little water re-
mains! He feels almost tempted to try to
reach it, but no; that would mean throw
| ing his life away without chance for re-
venge. Revenge? He will have it. Thirst
| is nothing; death is nothing now il he can
only kill, kill!
II he could only kill them all, how happy
| he would die!
He looks over the bowlder. Nothing in
sight but powders, lava, cacti, sand and
| gazette grass. They are there, though"
He almost laughs in sarcasm as he catches
himself scanning the horizon to see if any
relief were in sight. Relief? For days he
and the man that lay dead there had trav-
eled without finding n trail made by a shod
hOrse-without finding trail Of any kind
How childish to expect any helpl Better
brace up and die like a man.
| He looked Mt the body of the dead man.
How hideous the face looked with its swol-
len lips, open mouth, staring eyesI How
black Il had grown, What vast quantity
of blood had come from the wound in the
head His eye catches movement in the
tuft of grass to his left. Bang! bangi goes
his rifle. Nothing there" he thinks, rs
he crouches closer TO the ground to escape
the shots that come in return.
So the hours go by, but he hardly marks
their flight. The sun is getting lower in
the west, and the white heat of day gives
way to the yellowish purple haze that in
Apache land is always the forerunner of
night. How when ne was first hit he had
longed for night How little he cared for it
now! lie could feel himself growing weak
err His Winchester was heavier than any
he had ever before lifted. Even st." that
terrible thing that chained him there,
panied him less, but the thirst grew horri-
BILE Anyhow night would give him n
chance to reach the canteen. AT times he
felt almost drowsy, but fought off the
feeling. He was merely waiting for the