The great West. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1889-18??, 1891-11-13

Ca time they had left
- the stage-road station
aaz s:s,;S4kzas and set out on the
trail had come to pass and they were
sore distressed. Bad water and the
insufferable heat of the desert had
stretched Big Bunster out on his blan-
kets, and he was talking about his
mother and asking the others to break
the news to her gently.
Bunster had not felt well when they
left Flagstaff, but, like the well-mean-
ing young idiot that he was, he per-
sisted in facing the dangers OF the trial
steady on his burro and the fever
took a firmer hold upon his big, lazy
body, his head dropped lower over the
pommel, and Jim Yost, the guide and
the only man of the whole six of them
who really knew what danger the big
fellow was in, determined to call a
halt.
II don't want to see him die in his
saddle" Jim said in a whisper to
Zach Rawlins, and unless we kin git
him inter more comfortable shape,
he'll croak afore shutdown"
So they paused in the shade of a
mass OF rocks, piled up in the fashion
the Titans had OF doing things in the
days when the Grand Canon of the
Colorado was young. And they were
nightly glad to rest there, for to be
stared out of countenance all day
NV only a ORC r
desert knows is enough to drive a
man q long way toward ashady spot.
Big Bunster felt easier, but he knew
he would die, he said, unless he could
get a sip of decent water. He saw
clearly enough that that was i'm
possible, and so, in his lazy way, he
was letting 60 of the strings OF life.
Don't wait for me to die, boys"
ne said: "keep along on your way or
you will all drop down as l have
done. l always was rather slow, and
want to take my own time dying.
Don't stop for me-" Then he looked
up into Zach Rawlins' face and smiled
one of the queerest, ghastliest
smiles Zach had ever seen. And
then Zach, who was the best and
truest friend Big Bunster ever had,
stuck his heels in the sand, and said it
was beastly shame that such agood
fellow should come to such an end.
He wanted to know why their miser-
able guide had led them so far out OF
the way, why they were here, forty
miles from nowhere, and why eguide
had promised to find a spring when
he had known nothing of it's existence,
and why, in the name of all that was
holy, something could not be done.
oval, yer needn't git SO cursed
riled," rasped out the grim Yost.
"Nuthin' can be did now. We can't
60 no further, Or your man'n drop
dead as that snake-skin thar. AS it
Is he stands some show. Well strike
Caliente Trail afore dusk, when it
gets cooler. It's right over thar" and
the rugged Yost pointed with a knotty
foretinger across white expanse over
which lines of heat were auivering as
If the very air writhed under the pitt
less fire from on high.
"What good will it do Bunster, if
we do get there?" whispered some one.
"Good?" returned the guide; "why,
thar's water four miles from that air
trail-ef we kin get down to it."
'Get down to it!'' OF course we
will spoke up Rawlins "Cheer up,
old man." he said, soothingly, to the
parched Bunster, whose tongue wasout
and whose eyes were staring across
the plain toward Caliente Trail;
''there's water over there, and you
shall have a good drink, my boy"
"Water-yes, I see it; it's sort OF
grayblue, isn't it? Why there's great
lake-what a sight!'' and the thirst
plagued man stared at the picture his
distorted vision had conjured up; and,
drawing in his tongue, he pressed his
cracked lips together, as if gluing
them to the brim OF glass full of the
sparkling liquid, for which he would
have given anything he possessed for
one soul-satisfying swallow. His tor
ture, and that of the friend who
watched over him while he lay tossing
on his blankets, was allayed to a de-
gree few hours later, when the fierce
sun repented and the night stole on
slowly. AS the evening air famed his
brow, Rawlins, riding by the side of
his sick friend, made light of the days
mlshaps, and even managed to joke
about Big Bunster's burro being
smaller than its rider, which joke
seemed very near the truth, though It
lacked heartiness.
The little caravan made it's way to
Caliente Trail and along it to one of
the outer walls of the great canon,
where it halted for the nig ht.
Very early in the morning, before
the sun had ceased his repentance,
two OF the men slung their canteens to
their, sides and started for the river.
though Yost, after they had gone.
said: cts even chances bout them
gittin water-they mought and they
moughtnt. Them air canon walls is
mighty steep, but thar may be place
to git down Som'ers along thar"