The rustler., 1891-11-13

49, aoAn teAl ne iAFncAuaa NcsNEas VIA
iis sin more preeious ooutcntk The
stopper hcu from ia place and
plAsh of water steamed mp from the
hurning rock On which Il fel Mad
" b. jcrkcd up the cantecE- Thank
God. only . little water had heen
wasted and Jet be reflected e. he
rcplacod the cork. he would have
given worlds 70 have slipped what had
fallen. Bui be hasiencd on Tho
warped and split boot sole finally
cracked clean through. and he could
feel the gridiron heat Of the rocks
upon his naked flesh. for his stocking
was quickly worn away.
II was now 80 hot that the rattle
snakes did not venture forth upon the
roclss. - there was NO longer any dan
ger from them. The real danger now.
a. he viewed II. was that he would be
able but a short time longer to keep
the neck ~ the cautcen from his lips
The water had become warm, and yet
Il was his one source Of reviviheation
10 place tine hat side Of the canteen
against his sun-scorchcd face. This
was NJ once a delight and a torture.
for while the can cooled his flesh. the
delicious huggle-gugglc Of the water
nearly drove him made Thrice he
stopped. uncorked the canteen and
raised IL 10 his lips, and then, pushing
il from him by a mighty effort he
dashed wildly on Soon he came to n
place where the ascent was almost per-
pendicular. and where the heat was 50
sitting as almost 10 close his nostrils.
The way up was lined with cactus
scrubs, whose spines pierced his hands
like red-hot needles when he grasped
at something by which TO haul himself
up. The little lizards that darted into
the patches Of shade seemed TO mock
him, and his wistful gaze could be
torn from the cauteen only when II
was absolutely necessary for him to
see his way clear.
"What Is his thirst 20 mine?' he
mOaned as for n fourth time he un-
corked the canteen. "Iie is lying in
the shade, and his brow is famed by
kindly hands, while IL am burning. f"
Then the swollen, purple face Of
Bunster rose up before him, and he
showed the cork into the mouth OF the
eanteen with a spssmodie effort that
seemed almost superhuman. Again he
toiled on-slowly now, for his strength
seemed almost spent.
II was dreary waiting up at the camp
for the return of the water-bearer
Yost gazcd for hours over the white
ground in the direction Of the canyon,
and, at last, he grimly gave up Zach
Rawlins as lost man, though he did
not say SO TO his less experienced
friends Of the camp.
mo chance fur EN- when their feet
slip on the rocks over them air cliffs or
when u rattlesnake nips 'em 'bove the
boot-top He's gone fur sartin'," NUT
tered the guide. wen have TO bury
the big 'un afore nightfall-fur he s
most gone-an' then put back fur the
stage station afore we all drop. It's
just hell-this desert life, an I've bout
got my fill ON it"
Then the ghost OF man, with tatters
of clothing hanging from his form,
darted into view around the rocks.
Yost cursed the on-comer for a fool for
running so hard under the burning sun.
His legs seemed very unsteady, for he
reeled as he ran. II was fully u min
ute before the guide or any of them
could realize that the advancing form
was that of Rawlins, and in that min
ute the scare-crow figure had reached
the couch where Big Bunster lay, and,
uncorling the canteen, had showed the
neck Of II into the nearly unconscious
mans mouth.
Drink, old man! It's WATERFORD,
pure water! Drink hearty, and God
bless 'you" came in thin, sepulchral
tones from between the blackened lips
of the ghostly one. Drink, drink"
And the water-bearer fell beside his
comrade. Great throbs shook his
frame. HIS breath failed. His eyes
became glazed and his dust-covered
head, which had hours ago lost its Gov
ering, sank down upon the sund. But
in the rigid clasp of death his hand held
the canteen to his comrades lips.
Knocked out by the sun, was Yost''
comment; but he brought back full
canteen. Wal, I've seed lots on EN-
but never seed one with his grit
They buried him by the rocks ant
wrote his name on stake, thrust into
the sand at his head. And Bunster
who was coming out Of deaths shadow
looked on and mourned
That very evening came jinglinl
along the trail train of burros, led BY
thick-set Mexican. There was plent,
of good water in his casks and plenty
of good food in his packs, and the trav
elers ate and drank and went thci
way toward Flagstaff in the Mexican
company. And the sound o the tinls
ling bells on the burros' necks echoe,
from the rock under which Zach Raw
Inns lay and Knocked his dull, cold ear
"I've seed lots on EN-" repeate,
Yost, rs he told the tale to the Mexi
can tive seed lots on en- but neve
seed one with his grit"'-Frank i. Nil
lard, in San Francisco Argonaut.
) "-r-7c NO ROMANCE.
The Man Had Nsvcr Nyorkad aud nidu'