The Arizona sentinel., 1909-12-30
TIL DESERT
Pen Picture of the Life Found in
its ldtitGdeS
Times Sunday Magazine. ]

ideas of those who have not trod
the deserts dreary waste of sand
and rocks, who have not seen its
sparse growth of fantastic veg
citation. 1t is a world in itself,
peculiar to itself, world where
one must learn again the alpha
bet of nature. 1t is a, world that
holds it's inhabitants in thrall
after they once have learned the
lesson OF its mystery.
To him whom time and expert
ence has taught its ways, it's
dangers, it's exactions and its
moods. to him who is it's verita-
BILE son by adoption, its solitude
presents no terrors, but to the
son of "the sod country" it is an
enigma. TO him it first teaches
its primary lesson on the value
of water. He will learn that
water is the most precious thing
known to the desert dweller. He
will come to many stopping
places in his journey where food
is given freely, but water must
be paid for. He will learn that
there are days and portions of
this desert where even water is
powerless to supply moisture to
his body as fast as it evaporates;
that is, unless it is possible for
him to immerse his whole body
in it. He will learn that nothing
produces thirst so quickly as the
knowledge of the emptiness of
the canteen hanging at his side.
So long as he can hear the gen.
tie swish Of the life saving fluid
there, he can withstand the de-
sire to drink, but as soon as the
last drop has been drawn, then
thirst comes in earnest with all
its suffering and haIlucinations.
Days of hungar do not begin to
equal the actual sufferings of one
hour OF desert thirst.
A man goes tOttering unstead-
lily forward, his flannel covered
canteen swings loosely at his
side; it is empty. Onward he
plods his wagering way across
the plains and valleys with ever
recurring swirls of alkali-laden
dust fercely lashing his rough
|ened face and bringing scalding
tears of agony to his halfclosed
eyes. His lips are cracked and
swollen, his tongue thick, black
and protruding. The desert
thirst has him in it's deadly en-
brace. His whole beiug cries
for water, water! Anything for
water! Just a little drop of
water! And then, just as though
God had heard his cry and look
ed with compassion down upon
him, before him, such a little
way-ilst ahead-lies a lake with
green trees about it whose sturdy
forms are mirrored in it's clear
depths. Green verdure covers
it's shores and cattle stand knee
deep in its shadows. There is
house beyond, about whose door
little children play; and orchards
of fruit laden trees extend out
beyond in long, euen rows. 1t
is such little way off, it may
be a mile, perhaps only half a
mile, or even not more than 100
yards. He gasps with joy; he
waves his stiffened arms and
totters into arun. Oh, how de-
licious the water will be when he
reaches it! How he will drink
and drink! How he will roll
himself in it's embrace and drink
it in through each pore of his
poor, shrunken body, Nothing
will keep him from it; nothing
can. It will perhaps not be cool,
but OH! how sweet! how delic-
ious! And then he stops and
gazes. Yes, it is still there, just
little way ahead; not much
nearer than when it first came
in sight: but while he gazes, it
slowly fades away! The fairy
landscape with its homely peace
and it's life giving water is gone.
There Is no water, there are no
trees, nor lake, nor home, nor
cattle, nor little children playing
nj al L