Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1892-11-20

where we were We hunted diligently. We
went several miles IN every possible direc-
| tion, but for some reason or other we missed
Just the right one.
The Retreat to the Windmill.
At last We surrendered. We saddled up
the horses, and made up our minds to get
! out of the mountain while we were able to
walk, and to get as far as we could on our
way to the windmill without giving up.
My throat was all swelled up, and found
J it not at all easy to speak much louder than
a whisper. We neither of us wanted to eat
what we wanted was water-barrels of it.
| 1t seems an awful waste of good material,
when you remember that the State of
Illinois and all the Middle States were
under water from the floods just at this
time.
At nightfall we just dropped down in our
tracks and went to sleep. We were still q
long way from the windmill, and the night
was too dark and the horses too tired to at
tempt to go much further We took the
saddles off the. horses, and did not pretend
to prepare any meal for ourselves. We
just pulled our blankets over our heads and
tried to forget our sore throats and swollen
tongues in sleep. We awoke just as dawn
was showing in the sky. We staggered to
our feet, saddled up the horses and tottered
on. In half an hour we could see the wind
mill, still little way off By o'clock we
we're within a mile; every foot of that
mile seemed league; then, as We came
nearer, we saw that not breath of air was
stirring, and the windmill was still But
there was reservoir in connection with
every windmill, into which the overflow of
the trough runs, and We felt sure that there
would be plenty of water in this. Eagerly
we pressed on, the. horses seemed to realize
orip xuofn L.,
dragging. Soon we could see that several
hundred steers were standing around the
windmill, evidently on the same errand as
ourselves, and the horrible conviction was
forced upon us that there was no water
The reservoir was empty, or contained very
little beyond a sediment of sinking green
slime, and dead cattle lay around, pollut-
ing every drop of stagnant water that could
accumulate.
Man of Expedients.
'There surely must be a way out of this"
said the Grow. "Yes," I said, s'there
ought to be. There is a ladder down into
the we'll, but it is 60 feet deep; we might
60 down and get drink, but in the state
We are we couldn't carry tin cupful up
that distance But the Grow is a man
of expedients. He climbed up the ladder
leading to the mill. and watching for the
"ihos. tnPeiCeP.iunS ufeaths VI air, lie
started the windmill by hand. Working
like horse, he succeeded in getting the
water to run. I filled our tin pals and
took long drink-surely the sweet
est draught that ever passed a mans lips
Then 1 gave the dog drink, and then
I filled up the bucket and gave the horses q
little. By this time the Crow was tired, so
went up and took his place, and so by al
ternately pumping and drinking, and firing
a shot occasionally, to keep the steers away
till we were done, for they were nearly
frantic when they saw the water trickling
from the pipe, We succeeded in quenchng
our own thirst and our horses, and got
enough water in the canteens to make some
coffee. For bv this time we were hungry:
we wanted coffee, and the coffee we made
(though we should probably have killed
waiter if he had brought such stuff to us in