The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1902-02-07

was his one source Of revivihcation to
place the fat side of the canteen
against his sun scorched face. This
was at once a delight and q torture,
for, while the can cooled his flesh, the
delicious huggle guggle Of the water
nearly drove him mad. Thrice he STOP
ped. uncorked the canteen and raised
II TO his lips. and then, pushing 1t from
him by mighty effort, he dashed wild
ly on. Soon he came to place where
the ascent was almost perpendicular
and where the heat was so stifiing as
almost to close his nostrils. The way
up was lined with cactus scrubs.
whose spines pierced his hands like
redhot needles when he grasped at
something by which 10 haul himself
up. The little lizards that darted into
the patches Of shade seemed TO mock
from the canteen only when II was alb
solutely necessary for him to see bis
way clear.
what is his thirst to miner" he
moaned as for a fourth time he uncork-
ed the canteen. He Is lying In the
shade, and his brow Is famed by kind
ly hands, while IL am burning"
Then the swollen, purple face of
Bunster rose up before him, and he
showed back the cork into the mouth Of
the canteen with a spasmodic effort
that seemed almost superhuman. Again
he toiled on, slowly now. for his
strength seemed almost spent.
1t was dreary waiting up at the camp
for the return of the water bearer.
Yost gaZed for hours over the white
ground In the direction of the canyon.
| and at last he grimly gave up Zach
Rawlins as lost man. though he did
| not say so to his less experienced
friends of the camp.
mo chance fur 'em when their feet
| slip on the rocks over them air cliffs or
when a rattlesnake nips 'em 'bOve the
boot top. He's gone fur sartin." NUT
| tered the guide. We'll have to bury
the big un afore nightfall. fur he's
most gone. an then put back fur the
stage station afOre We all drop. It's
Just hell, this desert life. an I've bout
| got my fill on it,,
4
OF clothing hanging from his form,
darted into view around the rocks.
Yost cursed the oncomer for a fool for
running so hard under the burning sun.
His legs seemed very unsteady, for he
| reeled as he ran. 1t was fully a minute
before the guide or any Of them could
realize that the advancing form was
that of Rawlins, and In that minute
the scarecrow figure had. reached the
couch where Big Bunster lay and. un-
corking the canteen. had showed the
neck of 1t into the nearly unconscious
mans mouth. .
Drink. ole man! It's water-good
pure water! Drink hearty, and God
bless your came In thin. sepulchral
tones from between the b3ackened lips
of the ghostly one. Drink, drinkr'
And the water bearer fell beside his
comrade. Great throbs shook his frame
His breath failed. his eyes became
glazed. and his dust covered head
which had hours ago lost Its covering
sank down upon the sand But In the
rigid clasp of death his hand held the
canteen to his comrades lips.
Knocked out by the sum-" wa,
Yost's comment; but he brought bacl
full canteen. WAL, I've seed lots or
'em, but ! never seed one with hii
gritr
They buried him by the rocks ant
wrote his name on stake thrust int
the sand at his head. And Bunster
who was coming out of deaths shadow
looked on and mourned.
That very evening came jingling alon,
the trail train Of burros, led by
thickset Mexican. There was plent.
. of good water In his casks and plent,
!, Of good food in his packs, and the trav
! elers ate and drank and went their wa.
toward Flagstaff In the Mexican's CON
, pany. And the sound of the tinklin
, bells on the burros' necks echoed fror
the rock under. which Zach Rawlin
lay and Knocked his dull, cold ear.
''I've seed lots on 'em." repeated Yos
, as he told the tale to the Mexican; 'Fv
: | seed lots on 'em, but l never seed on
with his gritr'