swollen feet, thus in a measure protecting them from the blistering sun over the excoriating alkaline dust and ashes.
Opposite where we met that morning was a broad sheet of dried mud, broken from the bed of what in the moment of a cloud-burst had been a roaring torrent, capable of sweeping away a whole train in an instant, as one was swept away near there in 1866, when men were drowned and their bodies carried miles away into the desert, and set up on end like a grave-stone. Some passing miners on the back track had spent an hour or more in cutting an inscription on this monument, as follows:
"In memory of the Infernal Asses who left home, square meals, and the comforts of civilization behind them in San Francisco, and sought their eternal fortunes among the mines in the blessed regions beyond the Colorado, of which are we. This monument was raised at the joint expense of the merchants of Los Angeles and San Bernardino, who drove a thriving trade, and had a grand thing out of it while the excitement lasted. And of such is the kingdom of Heaven."
We looked at each other and at the monument by turns with mournful interest. The cork of Noble's canteen flew out with a pop, propelled by the force of the sulphur gas generated from the half-boiling, stinking water, as it was shaken about as he limped along. "Here, Fly-up-the-Creek—I've forgotten your other name—take a drink!" said he. "You are another, my beauty, and I cannot refuse!" I replied, and swallowed a mouthful of the nauseating fluid.
