Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1900-03-28

III
Dor. The :linching Of the lips to- sup
press q groan when one is thirst-mad-
dened may require more heroism than
facing a cannon with flags flying and
drums beating, inasmuch as che that
ruleth his own spirit is greater than
he that taketh city,"
At last one day the Missourian gave
out utterly. He was not of the cow
boy build. in the first place, but his
splendid craftsmanship and enthusiasm
had induced Wilson, the boss, or
yankee Bill" as he was called, to take
him on. In his delirium he lay and
cried for water, day and night. He
blubbered and begged for water, and
called upon the names of those he had
known in his childhood. Every man
went about his own business, which
was largely the formulating of fervent
and eloquent oaths anent the heat,
the drought and the delay; and ap-
parently no one heard his cries. Water
was the one thing he wanted, and the
one thing he could not get, so, after
they had put his boots under his head
to make him comfortable, they let him
alone. Under ordinary circumstances
Missourian more or less was of no
great consequence to "Yankee Bill -
but this break in the ranks shattered
the last vestige of hope. Whatever
may have been done after that in the
effort to keep up their spirits was mere
bravado, for each man foresaw the
end.
The Missourian had been a quiet
sort in the camp, and no one had ever
heard him talk much, but now he
talked necessarily in the soft, thick
drawl of the south. And always Of
home scenes, the memories of boyhood
that whetted the edge of their tor
ture till it was beyond all enduring.
Now he was fishing along some stream
and swearing in round terms at some
"fat-headed niger" for soaring the
fish; now he was in school struggling
with some problem he could never
solve beyond ''carry seven" Always
coherent enough to call up memories
in their own minds of a youth, mis-
spent for the most part. They could
not move farther away because they
were camped under the only shade in
sight. They thought of dragging him
off beyond ear-shot, but while every
one would have been glad to have it
done, no man could do it himself. Their
horny hands had grown gentle in their
ministering touches.
Escape was long since out of the
question, for the horses were worse off
than the men; not one of them could
carry saddle, much less rider. Each
man had saved a last charge in his
revolver, knowing that that perhaps
would be their only deliverance from
death too horrible to name. All bit
"East-Side," who, when decision had
to be made between himself and his
horse, had led her out behind little
ACTIVITY and put his last charge
through her game little heart. Now
he must make his exit in some other
way, if he would let his disembodied
spirit pass on unincumbered by sun
parched frame. The knife he carried
in his boot was a miserable hack of
a thing, fit only for shaving tobacco
or chunking bacon. He felt momen-
tary regret as he ran his fingers along
it's Jagged edges that man with his
record should be obliged to make his
end with so mean q weapon. The big
Swede in moment of madness had
raised his pistol as if it had been a
jug, saying: oval, boys, here's to a
wetter country!" But he had not shot.
The cold iron seemed to cool the rash
ness of his brain, and the mirage OF
hope lured them on a day farther.
After the second day the Missouri
ans talk began to grow less, his raw
ing subsidized into weak, incoherent
babbling; at last it ceased altogether,
and he lay staring wide-eyed into the
relentless sky. AS they had done
everything else, they did this silently,
stoically. A shallow bed was scooped
out and the canvas taken off the
wagon for a winding sheet. When
the broken circle closed in around
the open grave, the boss cleared his
throat and said: Boys, before we 20
any farther, some one must make a
prayer. sabe?"
They sabed, but although every
mans soul might be consumed with a
voiceless cry to some power above
himself for the repose of the departed
soul, and release from a like fate,
they were all dumb when confronted
by the thought of taking the name of
God reverently. Instinctively they
turned to "East-Side."
''It's your lead, 'East-Side,'" they
said. And "East-Side," cropping blind
~ backward toward the memories of
his youth, tried to recall something
of religious import. Slowly through
his desiccated brain percolated a line
from a church hymn: "Greenland's
Icy Mountains" but, although the
thought was pleasant in this burning
desert, the words were not to the
point-besides, that was all he knew
of it. He shook his head sorrowfully.
I'm the beginning"-he thought he
had struck the right lead there-"In
the beginning, God created" But
again he was stuck and could go no
further.
LEAD up, 'East-side!' they urged.
Then the light broke. The backward
cropping had brought him down to
the days of his childhood, to the
words his grandfather had been wont
to say, as with bowed heads the fam
lily, to the third and fourth genera