ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST
ensibly, and our beasts to flag and droop, ' while our sensations of thirst seemed in creased ten-fold. If this was the case in the morning, what would be the result ere another night? We shuddered at the thought.
About noon, the appearance of the ground began to change for the worse, which, in spite of ourselves, was productive of no little alarm. Gradually it became more and more sandy, and an hour's further progress brought us to a desert more barren than ever, where not a living thing, vegetable or animal, could be seen, over a dreary expanse, that, for all we knew, might be hundreds of miles in extent.
To add to the horrors of our situation, our horses were evidently on the point of giving out for as they buried their feet in the white, hot sand, they occasionally floundered, and reeled, and seemed inclined to lie down while our own throats, lips, and tongues began to swell, and the skin of our faces and hands to blister and crack. I recalled to mind the accounts I had read of bones being found in the great Arabian deserts, and I fancied that many years hence, some more fortunate traveler might so discover ours.
Cheering each other as well as we could, we kept on for another hour, when the horse of Huntly reeled, dropped upon his knees, and fell over upon his side.
"Oh God !" cried my friend in despair, "we are lost we are lost! a nd such a death !"
"Our last hope is here," I rejoined, dis mounting and plunging my knife into the dying beast; and as the warm blood spout ed forth, we placed our parched lips to it, and drank with a greediness we had never felt nor displayed for anything before.
This gave us no little relief for the time, and added vigor to our already drooping and weakened frames. But what could it avail us? It might relieve us now might prolong our lives a few hours only to go through the same terrible tortures and find death at last. Unless we could reach a spring by another day's travel, or come in sight of one, our case was certainly hope less; and to carry us forward, we now had nothing to depend on but. our own limbs and strength, while our path must be over a bed of hot, loose sand, where every step would be buried ankle deep.
"Well, Frank," sighed Huntly at length, "what are we to do now? I suppose we may as well die here as elsewhere."
"No! not here, my friend; we will make one trial more at least."
"And have we any prospect, think you, of saving our lives of seeing another green spot?"
"Why, you remember when on the Wahsatch, we saw some hills away in the distance; and unless it was an optical illusion, I have a faint hope of being able to reach them before this time to-morrow."
"God grant it, my friend! for though I fear not death more than another, there is something horrible in the thought of leaving my bones here in the wilderness."
"Well, well, cheer up, Huntly! and trust in Providence to carry us safely through."
A farther consultation resulted in the decision to await the night, and if my horse proved able to proceed, to let him carry our sacks, rifles, <fec., while we were to keep him company on foot.
By the time the sun had fairly set, we resumed our journey; but after a la] " ri- ous travel of half a mile, my horse gaTv' out. Taking from him a portion of the jerked meat, our rifles, and such small articles as we could not well do without, we left him to his fate, with many a sigh of regret.
It was a clear, starlight night, and the air just cool enough to be comfortable; but unlike the preceding one, we no longer had the refreshing dew to moisten our bodies and renew our strength. Still we succeeded better than I had anticipated, and, by exertions almost superhuman, placed many a long mile between us and our starting point, ere the first crimson streak in the east told that day was again dawning. To add hope to our drooping spirits, we now found the ground becoming more and more solid, and ere the sun pec-red over the mountains which were almost lost to view in the distance, we set our feet once more upon hard earth, similar in appearance to that we had quitted for the sands. Struggling on a mile or two farther, we ascended a slight elevation, and, joy inexpressible! beheld far away before us a
