The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1892-08-04
ON THE TOANO GRADE.
BY FRANK BAILEY NIILIARD.

| Dark and dumb and cold as death
itself lay the dry mesa. twas late at
night The coyotes had ceased to
howl. The owls no longer gave forth
their dismal boots No breath stirred
the leaves Of the dry greesewood and
sage. The cold stars shone out as they
only shine through the rare. clear air
OF the desert The slim horn of the
cold moon, dropping down over the
far away buttes, glinted the wheel
worn edges Of two steel rails that run
away into the blackness on either side
Of the spot. Near the railroad track
stood a ghostly telegraph pole, and its
wires ran away into the Darkness
If there were any sounds at all in the
air, they came from the wires. But
they must have been mere whisper
ings, for the man who lay awake I'M
der them heard them not.
The man was frightfully. strained
ly awake But by his side and under
the same blanket, lay another man
who was sound asleep.
1t is best for a supersensitive man
to sleep, and sleep soundly, if he must
needs lie on the desert under the stars.
1t is an awful thing for such one to
be cursed by sleeplessness at such a
time and in such place
The horrible stiffness and dumbness
of nature weighed upon the .wakeful
man, who lay there upon his back,
looking up at the myriad eyes that
peeped through the dark roof Of the
world. He felt the oppressiveness of
it all as keenly as he felt the numbing
of the chill night air
He turned on his unyielding bed of
sand, and heard the crackle of Il sage
twig under his body. A pistol shot
would have sounded no louder to his
overwrought ear. Why did not the
sound awaken the sleeper at his side?
If only he would waken or even turn.
But poor, tired man, he had tranped
many long mile over the burning
plain, through alkali dust and by sago
and cactus wastes. Let him sleep.
The sleepless one raised his hand
to his face, on which the skin was
tightly drawn. How hot the unwink
ing eye of heaven had blazed upon
him through the day. 1t seemed to
have scared his cheek and forehead
God. If | had but one glass of
rum-one glass; he groaned half
aloud
And then he went over his life. and
made himself to see clearly why he
had become so dependent upon n
fiery fluid for his peace OF mind. 1t
was the thirst-the cursed thirst that
had built itself up within HIM out of
the very elements with which he had
thought to appease it. And the con
sequences of shat thirst, His mind
ran back to his home. How she must
hate him-that patient wife. who had
borne with him so long. Did she?
Was it hate that blazed from her eyes
when they had had that final quarrel.
and he had left her. never to return?
He could not bring himself to think
that it was. He was so frightfully
alone-so much in need of being in
some ones kindly thoughts that
The man at his side did turn aG last.
But lie settled down at once to peace
ful slumber. He had not awakened
Ii he only could awake, his cheery
Irish banter would make the night
less hideous for time, perhaps; but
let him sleep. He should not trespas5
on his good nature by arousing him.
Although only the acquaintance Of
day, he had. i'll his genial Celtic way,
been more than kind. He had given
Il most unworthy and undeserving
man food from hisslim store. and now
he was sharing with him his Door thin
blanket. An unworthy man-yes.
most unworthy. Had he not left his
wife to shift for herself? Had he not
wholly deserted her? Yes. but she no
longer loved him. He had been such
drag upon her such burden. She
was better off without him-far bet
ter. The immoving tide of this heavy
thought bore down upon him more
than all the oppressiveness of the
night silence on the desert. more than
the fearful thirst. 1t was better that
she should live without him. far better.
tie was unworthy. How cut off he
seemed from the whole world, The
little warmth he felt from the mans
body lying by his own. made its i'm
press on his mind Ia spite of all his
desire for independence when he had
started off on that wild journey with
only a few coins in his pocket, his hot
assertion that he could go his way
without reference to others seemed
now to have been part of his weak
ness of character Even the strong
est must lean on some one None
could go their way wholly alone How
independent was the whole race Of
man.
And she had leaned on him. Per
haps she did still in way. For
mlGht She NOT he lnnLincr fo,. hin, To