Imperial Valley press., 1937-01-03
HASKELL
q
Miles
By Jane Archer

A VAST silence was upon the land. The
~ stiffness was so intense it seemed
that God Himself held His breath A
blazing sun hung in a blazing sky and
sweat shafts of piercing heat to wither
the earth beneath Mile on endless mile
the arid desert stretched away, deso-
lation of sagebrush and sand and dark
Joshua trees flinging their deformed
arms skyward in supplication to some
sinister deity of their own devising The
far-off mills drew their misty draperies
closer to them as though shrinking from
the heat, and farther still the secret
mountains thrust themselves into the
sky, the snow on their crests velvet soft
and warm in the distance. Time stood
still, reluctant to shatter the silence with
dragging feet. 1t was as though Nature
herself had set the stage and plotted the
action for the drama that was taking
place in that wilderness of space, and
now satisfied with her work, sat back
to enjoy the final scene.
Two tiny specks rose from the floor
of the desert, rose feebly and painfully
Their breath came labored through
parched throats and cracked lips. The
fierce sunlight tortured their already red
and bloodshot eyes. In silence they gath
cred up their canteens and started drunk
emily across the sand. A lizard darted into
the brush and rattler (too apathetic
for any further exertion) watched with
jaded eyes their eccentric passage.
The two men plodded thus for the
space of half an hour; weaving and fall
ing, one waiting while the other, tum-
bling ludicrously over the brush, rose
and struggled on. At last one fell heavily
and lay still. The other, looking back
and seeing no movement, retraced his
steps and stood beside his friend. He
took his arm, making futile attempts to
draw his friend to his feet.
"It's no use, Bill. Tired. Go on. Can't
make it."
DILL Topped down beside his fallen
y companion. With clumsy fingers he
opened his canteen and moistened the
swollen lips of the other. He waited the
space of few minutes
Come on, Slim Don't be fool. Not
gonna leave you. Well make it. God, two
old desert rats lost in their own terri
tory. Funny, isn't it ?"
With chuckle at his own grim joke,
he dragged the prone Slim to his feet.
The two staggered on, pursuing the same
ragged course, trembling knees giving
away, choking as they fell in the dry
sand, rubbing burning eyes with grimy
hands - two friends, wordless, helping
one another with their last bit of
strength.
Nature smiled. She had seen this drama
played out time after time before. 1t was
always the same but she always enjoyed
it. as child enjoys hearing the same
story night after night from the lips of
his mother.
Now arm in arm, their course more
erratic than ever, the two went on. One
canteen was empty, thrown in the sand
hundred yards behind them. The other
hung over Sims shoulder. Again the
silence was broken with words.
Look, Bill. Signboard. Maybe make
it."
Their poor eyes flickered with hope
They struggled on, the battered sign
board, beside forgotten trail, their goal
Nearer and nearer they came, until with
a hoarse cry of triumph Bill made out
the dim words -HASKELLsS4 miles. The
words, unread SO many years, danced be-
fore their joyous eyes. HASKELL! There
was water there, and BEDS and friends.
They could rest their eyes. Their cracked
lips would heal. There were cool sheets