The San Francisco call., 1904-02-28
Copyright, 1908. by the Bobbs- Merrill
Company.
CHAPTER I.
THE DESERT.


TO every man a damsel two. Judges
The vast. gray eXpanse of the desert
lay still as a picture in the heat Of the
early afternoon. The silence Of waste
places held it, 1t was gaunt and sterile.
clad with A drab growth Of sage, fat as
q table, and with the white scurf of the
skin. II was the earth, lean, sapless.
and marked with disease. A chain of
purple hills looked down on its dead
level. over which a wagon road passed
like a scar across a haggard face.
From the brazen arch Of the sky heat
poured down and was thrown back
from the scorched surface Of the land.
It was August in the Utah Desert in
the early ffties.
in the silence and deadness of the
scene there was one point of life. The
canvas top Of an emigrant wagon made
a white spot on the monotone Of gray.
At noon there had been but one shad-
ow ia the desert and this was that be-
meath the wagon, which was stationary
IN The road. Now the sun was declining
from the zenith and the shadow was
broadening; first mere edge, then
substantial margin of shade.
in il two women were crouched
watching a child that iey gasping.
Some distance away beside his two
horses, a man sat on th> ground, his
hat over his eyes.
one of the thousand tragedies the
desert had seen was being enacted.
Crushed between shat dead indiffer-
ence OF earth and sky, its participa-
tors seemed to feel the hopelessness Of
-nra -
but the child, who was dying with that
solemn aloofness 20 surroundings Of
which only those who are passing know
the secret His loud breathing sounded
like z defiance IL the silence Of that
savaseiy unsympEthizing nature The
man. the woman. the horses, were like
part II the picture in their mute i'm
mobility. only the dying child dared
defy IL.
he WAS a pretty boy Of 8, and had
succuinbed TO one Of the slight, Juvenile
ailments that during the rlgors Of the
overland march developed tragic pow
ers OF death. His mother sat beside
him staring at him. She was I9 years
Of age, and had been married four
years before TO the man who sat in the
shadow Of the horses. She looked 40,
tanned, haggard, half clad. Dazed by
hardship and the blow that had Just
fallen, she had the air of a stupehed
animal She said nothing and made no
attempt to alleviate the sufferings Of
her FIRST born.
The other woman was some ten years
older. and was a buxom. handsome
creature. large-framed. capable, stall
wart- a woman built for struggle and
endurance-the mate OF the pioneer.
She. too. was the wife Of the man who
sat by the horses. He was OF the Nor
mon faith. which he had joined a year
before for the purpose OF marrying her
The sun sloDed its burning course
across the pale sky The edges of the
desert shimmered through wells Of heat.
Far on the horizon the mirage of a
blue lake. with little waves creeping up
2 crescent Of sand. painted itself on the
quivering air. The shadow OF the wag-
on stealthily advanced. Suddenly the
child moved, drew a huttering breath
or two, and died. The two women
leaned forward. the mother helplessly;
the other, with certain prompt deci-
sion that marked all her movements,
felt OF the pulse and heart.
It's all over. Lucy" she said
brusquely. but not unkindly; II guess
you'd better get into the wagon; Jake
and I'll do everything"
The girl rose slowly like a person ac-
cUstomed 10 obey. moved TO the back Of
the wagon, and climbed in.
The man. who had seen this sudden
flutter of activity. pushed back his hat
ard locked at his wives. but did NOT
move or speak The second wife COW
cred the dead child with her apron, and
approached him.
Hes dead" she said.
oh" he answered.
We must bury him." was her next
remark.