Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, N.D.) 1909-1915, 1910-07-01
MY. QUIET: =fl FOURTH
by ROBERT ooNMELL.

EAou6 oIO udy as AulueF~WeQL aLCcr~kue
cactus-to scrape the ~spines OF and
leave it soft. velyety AFFAIR." Make
the Fourth just a dream day for Sizes
tas and somnolence. dedicated to the
great white god Silence?
Very well. Let them do it. After
about one or a fraction Of one such
silent Fourth they'll be glad to get
back to the pop proposition. I know,
beloved, because once experienced an
absolutely silent Fourth Of July.
My noiseless Fourth took place some
where near the middle Of the Nevada
desert You can find places in that
desert today where there isn't sound
for hundreds Of miles because there's
nothing to make sound. l was herd
ing cattle in those days-punching
cows, the elegant eastern writer's call
it. Caliente was my headquarters.
Ever see Caliente? l mean, rather,
did you ever feel Caliente? There isn't
much to see. but In midsummer you
can feel Caliente. It feels just as its
Spanish name implies-hot. Cauente
Is surrounded by barren mountains.
beyond which stretches, barren desert
Nowadays there is q railroad. that
finds entrance and exit between the
passes, but in those days the lonesome
little burg was an isolated speck.
Strange to say, the town had run out
Of ammunition by the end Of June
oto id cs}v
er there wasn't cartridge left in Cal
iente. And as for other fireworks ma.
terial there wasn't q cracker-except
whip crackers.
Caliente couldn't stand for a fire
voorhees, Fourth. so was detailed to
ride horseback eighty miles across the
shimmering desert and bring back
from the nearest railroad town q sup
ply Of noise producers. My horse had
a lame hoof. so the boss proffered his
"You'll have to tether him down pref
| ty tight when you camp" said the
boss, "for you know he's mighty slzit-
dsh."
calculated-being from New England
can calculate. you see-that could
get the fireworks and reach Caliente in
time for the celebration to begin about
noon of the Fourth. l made the rail
road town all right, strapped big bun
dies Of pyrotechnics to the horse and
got back within thirty miles of Cali
ente by the evening Of the third l
was dog tired. So was the horse prob
ably But determined to rest only an
hour, eat bite and plug along a few
hours before making camp, SO that l
could get into Caliente little earlier
| than l was expected.
Dismounting. hitched the horse to
a cactus bush and sat down to unlace
my Shoes / proposed easing my own
feet before easing the animal by IN
saddling him. i went sound asleep
with one shoe OF and one on. An hour
later l awoke The horse was gone.
He had pulled the top of the brittle
cactus bush and released himself. he
carried with him Canente's entire
stock Of fireworks; also my six shooter,
slung over the saddle in its holster.
| Islept soundly until daybreak ON the
sandy ground: Arising at dawn on the
Fourth Of July. set out at a brisk
pace for Caliente. as thought. 1t
was sultry day, and the heat in.
creased as the hours advanced. By
noon / was wondering why hadn't
hit the pass into Caliente. discov,
cred that had been walking in big
circle. Just then ! was about fifty
miles away from Caliente. I knew old
to his master. had reached town hours
before with the fireworks. 10"
There are no birds In the desert to
make twittering song. There are nc
/ trees through which the breeze blows
q subdued strain. was the only nv.
ing thing, so far as knew. for fifty
miles in each direction. The absolute
stiffness Of the scene appalled, me.
yearned for some sound-a thunder
crash, an earthquake, anything, jus,
SO 1t made noise. In my imagina
ton, but only there, I could hear the
"pop, pop, pop of the crackers along
Saloon row. -, -...,.-...r. 80
T. / was dred-awfully tired. l was
footsore; was hungrys ! was thirsty
I was hot-fercely hot. But wan
% confess right here and npw thai
none Of these aisagr1eabls Things
caunsa mo half auch agnuy; % thai
Il dreadful, dumb, desolGta nRfyereal 81
q lence, with o big g. I. fTsad 10 sheut
Il but my dry tongue gnva, forth N
Fl 4,,t<xS<p i91v a.