The record-union., 1892-04-30

theIr tongues swollen, and before them
lay the saltpan with right in the center
little gteam of dark blue water which
Knocked their misery. There was moth
ing for it but to lie down beneath the
scanty shade and rest. They were too
weary to push on, all their energy had
departed, and Helm, lying on his back
looking up at the patches OF blue sky
that peeped through the branches, said,
with sigh:
''If we're done for, wish to heaven the
! end would come now. l can't stand the
/ thought of-of-what's it like, old man?
! Is it very bad, do you think?"
| LAS bad as can be-
And is there no hope?"
! What could he say, this man who had
/ lived in the bush ali his life? What hope
| could he give, when practically his expe-
rience told him there was no hope-that
II they would save themselves from need
less pain they would turn pistols against
themselves and die there and at once
But the love Of life is strong in us all,
and the hope of life is as strong How
could they die, these strong men with
lie IN every vein? No, no, surely it was
impossible. An iguana scutled across in
| front Of them, and Helm started up
eagerly.
There" he said, ''there-and / never
thought. Look at that beast. There
must be water somewhere, or how could
he live"
Anderson sighed.
Eyes, there's the bitterness of it.
know there's water about if only we
could ind 1t; but as we didn't find any
when we had everything in our favor,
there's not much good in our wasting
| time looking now. After all l believe
those beasts must live without water,
though they say they don't. No, old chap,
our only hope lies in pushing on to the
| nearest wafer WE know al. -
Then don't let's lie here wasting
! precious minutes. Every moment is OF
consequence; let's make start. We must
| push on"
Push on! They had been pushing on
! ever since they left ''Yerlo" station ten
days ago, and this was what it had brought
! them to.
Its no good wearing ourselves out in
the heat of the day. said Anderson;
wait till evening and We'll do twice as
much."
(which way?"
southeast, l think. If we can only
| hold out we ought to fetch Gerring Ger
| ing Water. AS far as | know, this must be
Iamba Salt Lake, and If So"
harinda's just to the north there
"A hundred and twenty miles at the
| very least, and not drop of water the
| whole way. No, that's out Of the ques-
ton, old man; our only hope lies in reach
| ing OGIIIuS
And you don't see much probability
of our doing that?''
well, we can try"
He felt great pity, this older man, for
the lad-he called him a lad for all his
1our and twenty years, doomed to die,
say, dying at this very moment in the
| prime OF his manhood. They could but
try, he said over and over again, they
could but try.
And then as they rested they fell to
talking of other things-talked Of their
past lives and of their homes as neither,
! perhaps, had ever talked before.
My old mOtherll miss me-" said
| Charlie Helm, with a sigh, Though Lord
knows when she'll ever hear the truth of
the matter"
"'Umph, / don't know, but / guess if
we do peg out, it'll be some considerable
! time before they can read the store ac-
count over US. Have you got any paper
! about youY'
mot scrap. We can leave a message
! on the salt though"
It'll be blown away before tomorrow
| Who 90 you want to write to? Your
mother? That girl?''
Helm turned his face away. This man
| had no right to pry into his private con-
Germs.
Write to your mother lad, write to
| your mother by all means. Mothers are
|
but don't you bother about the other.
| Women are all alike, take my word for
IL. IL out OF sight out Of mind with all
Of them. But write to your mother"
some one may pass this way,' pom
dered the younger man, hardly needing
his words. It's Just worth trying and
he lay silent while Anderson talked on,
or rather thought aloud.
Its of the boy Pm thinking" he said
the poor helpless little one. He never
| throve since his mother died. She didn't
go much on me, but the boy was ev-
erything to her though he was cripple
Well-Well-if l were only certain he was
dead now, it wouldn't be half so hard.
He'd better be dead, l know, but |
couldn't think ilbefore; he was all had,
and the last time l saw him he put up his
little hand-such a mite OF hand-and
clutched his daddy's beard. He was
all l had; how could / wish him dead?
But now-now-my God!-if 1 was GER
tain he was dead and it hadn't hurt
much"
Helm sprang to his feet and swore an
oath.
Were not going to die" he cried, ''not
as easily as all that. Come on; we have
wasted enough precious time"
Not till it's little cooler. It's no
good, tell you, wearing ourselves out in
the heat"
And Helm, seeing the advice was good
lay down again-Iay down and tried TO
listen to the cawing of the crows. the
only sound that broke the Stiffness; tried
! not to think of cool waters; not to think
| OF household down south; not to think
of the girl who, notwithstanding his
mates cynical warning. filled all his
thoughts. He dOzed little and dreamed.
and wakened with a start and strong
feeling upon him that it had been some
thing more than a dream, that some one
had really called him, was calling him
still. Was it his mothers voice. or that
girls, or was it Anderson's? Anderson
was sleeping heavily, and, strong man
as he was, sobbing in his sleep. Helm
stretched out hand to awaken him, and
then paused. Why should he? What
had he better to offer than these broken
dreams?
he broke branch from tree, thereby
scattering the crows, and stepped down
to the edge of the glittering white salt
1t crunched beneath his feet like sand
and he went on till the hard crust began
to give way beneath him and the thick
mud oozed up. Then, when he thought
it was moist enough to resist the fierce
hot wind, which was blowing from the
north like breath from an oven. he pre-
pared TO write his last message. And
then came the difficulty. What was he
to say? What could he say? Not that he
had so little, but so much. And it might
never be read alter all, or at best 1t would
only be read by some station hand who,
once they were dead, would give but a
! passing thought to their message, only a
/ passing thought to their sufferings They
/ had found a skeleton, he remembered,
| the first year he had been on 'Yerlo." a
| skeleton that must have been lying there
years, a poor wind tossed, sunbaked
thing from which all semblance of hu-
manity had long since departed, and he.
in his carelessness, had thought so little
| OF 1t, had never realized the awful suffer-
/ ing that must have been before the strong
/ man came to that
| a nd rnnw-a1nl nom h, 4..l.i- L.. u