The citizen. [volume] (Berea, Ky.) 1899-1958, 1910-05-26

leaving a funnel-shapped hollow in
the sand where 1t had been. If any
water still leaked through from with
out II lost itself under the sand, and
the man and the girl were at the bot
tom Of a great natural well that was
quite dry. Baraka looked up, and she
saw a vulture sitting in the sun on a
pinnacle, 300 feet above her head. He
would sit there till she was dead, for
he knew what was coming; then he
would spread his wings a little and let
himself down awkwardly, half-hying
and half-scrambling. When he had
finished, he would sit and look at her
bones and doze, till he was able to fly
away.
The hours passed, and the sun rose
higher in the sky and struck deeper
into the shady well. till he was almost
overhead, and there was scarcely any
shadow left 1t became very hot and
sitting, because the passage through
which the air, had entered with the
water was shut up. Then the traveller
took off his loose jacket, and opened
his flannel shirt at the neck. and
turned up his sleeves for GOODNESS.
and he erept backwards into the hol-
low where the ruby mine was, to shell
ter himself from the sun. But Baraka
edged away to the very foot of the
cliff, where there remained a belt of
shade, even at noon; and as she sat
there she took the hem of her one
garment ia her hands and slowly
famed her little feet Neither he nor
she had spoken for many hours, and
she could see that in the recess OF the
rock he was sitting as before, with
his forehead against his hands that
we're clasped on his knees, in the at
titude and bearing of despair.
He began to be athirst now, in the
heat. II he had not known that there
was no water he could easily have
done without II through a long day,
but knowledge that there was none,
and that he was never to drink again,
parched his life and his throat and his
tongue till it felt like dried fig in his
mouth. He did not feel hunger, and
indeed he had little food in a wallet
he carried; but he could not have eat
en- without water, and 1t did not occur
to him that Baraka might be hungry.
Perhaps, even II he had known that
she was, he would not have given her
of what he had; he would have kept
IL for himself. What was the life of
wild hill-girl compared with his? But
the vulture was watching him, as we'll
as Baraka, and would not move from
it's pinnacle till the end, though days
might pass.
Baraks was not thirsty yet, because
she had drunk her fill in the morn
ing, and was not used to drink often;
1t was enough that she could look at
the man she loved, for the end would
come soon enough without thinking
about it. All day long the traveller
crouched in the hollow of the ruby
cave, and Baraka watched him from
her place; when IL grew dark the vul-
ture on the pinnacle of rock thrust its
ugly head under its wing. As soon as
Baraka could not see any more she
curled herself up on the white sand
like a little wild animal and went to
sleep, though she was thirsty.
It was dawn when she awoke, and
her linen garment was damp with the
dew, so that the touch of 1t refreshed
her. The traveller had come out and
was lying prone on the sand, his face
buried against his arm, as soldiers
sleep in a bivouac. She could not tell
whether he was asleep or not, but she
knew that he could not see her. and