The L'Anse sentinel., 1923-06-08

remaining four shells to drop the sec
ond ram, and by the time he had re-
loaded the others were out of range.
The Yaqui's method Of hunting was
sure and deadly and saving In energy,
but Gale never would try 1t again. He
chose to stalk the game. After being
hunted few times and shot at, the
sheep became exceedingly difficult to
approach. He failed often. The stalk
endurance, cunning, speed. And like
a shadow the faithful Yaqui tried
ever to keep at his heels.
One morning Yaqui spied flock Of
sheep far under the curved, broken
rim Of the main crater. Then began
the stalk. Hiding, slipping, creeping,
crawling, Gale closed In upon his
quarry until the long rifle grew like
stone In his grip, and the whipping
"spang" ripped the silence, and the
strange echo doomed deep in the era
ter, and rolled around, as II in hollow
mockery at the hopelessness of escape.
He waited beside his quarry, and
breathed deep, and swept the long
slopes with searching eyes of habit.
When Yaqui came up they set about
the hardest task of all, to pack the
best of that heavy sheep down miles
of steep, ragged, choya-covered lava.
The torrid summer heat came I'M
perceptibly, or 1t could never have
been borne by white men. 1t changed
the lives Of the fugitives, making
them partly nocturnal In habit. The
nights had the balmy coolness of
spring, and would have been delight
ful. for sleep, butt that would have
made the blazing days uncomfortable.
As Ladd had said, one of their
greatest problems was the passing Of
time. The nights were interminably
long, but they had to be passed In
work or play or dream-anything ex-
cept sleep. That was Ladd's most in
flexible command. He gave no rea-
son. But not improbably the ranger
thought that the terrific heat of the
day spent In slumber lessened a wear
and strain, II not a real danger Of
madness.
Accordingly, at first the occupations
Of this little group were many and
various. They worked II they had
something to do, or could invent a
pretext. They told and retold stories
until all were wearisome. They sang
songs Mercedes taught Spanish.
They played every game they knew.
They invented others that were so
trivial children would scarcely have
been interested, and these they played
seriously. In word, with intelll-
gence and passion, with all that was
civilized and human, they fought the
ever-infringing loneliness, the savage
solitude Of their environment.
Gale believed himself the keenest
Of the party, the one who thought
most, and he watched the effect Of the
desert upon his companions. For
hours, It seemed, Ladd would bend
over his checkerboard and never
make a move. 1t mattered not now
whether or not he had partner. Jim
Lash, the calmest, coolest, most nom
chalant, best.humored westerner Gale
had ever met had by slow degrees
lost that cheerful character which
would have been of such infinite good
to his companions, and always he sat
brooding, silently brooding. Jim had
no ties, few memories, and the desert
was claiming him.
Thorne and Mercedes, however.
were living, wonderful proof. that spir-
It, mind, and heart we're free-free to
soar In scorn Of the colossal barren
ness and silence and space Of that
terible hedging prison of lava. They
were young; they loved; they were
together; and the oasis was almost a
paradise. Thorne and Mercedes had
forgotten the outside world. II they
had been existing on the burned-out
desolate moon they could hardly have
been in a harsher. grimmer, lonelier
spot than this red-walled arroya.
Although the Yaqui was as his
shadow, Gale reached point when
he seemed to wander alone at twi-
light, in the night, at dawn. At night
he had formed habit of climbing up
the lava slope as far as the smooth
trail extended. and there on a promon-
tory he paced to and fro, and watched
the stars, and sat stone-still for hours
looking down at the vast void with its
moving, changing shadows He came
at length to realize that the desert
was teacher. He did not realize all
that he had learned, but he was a
different man. And when he decided
upon that, he was not thinking Of the
slow. sure call to the primal Instincts
Of man; he was thinking that the
desert, as much as he had experienced
and no more, would absolutely over
turn the whole sca'e Of a mans val
ues, break old habits. form new ones,
remake him. More Of desert expert
ence, Gale believed. would be too much
for intellect. The desert did not breed
civilized man
Thus the nights passed. endlessly
long, with Gale fighting for his old or
der Of thought lighting the fascina-
tion Of that infinite shy. ana the
gloomy insulating whiri Of the wide
shadows, lighting for belief, hope.
prayer. lighting against the terrible
ever~recurrins idea Of being lost, lost,
v<~4 o~< A. S~~~-< a~k xe~~ 49, 49,