Noon found him plunging down the steep bank of a dry gulch, a hideous gash in the breast of the hideous land.  He found a spot where there was a little shade under a clump of bushes growing upon the bank’s edge.  He ate a little of his dried beef; he treated himself to half a dozen big, slow swallows of water; then he lay and rested for half an hour.  Again he rose; he moistened his mouth and lips, shut his teeth hard together as he took the first step upon swollen feet; again he wandered monotonously through a monotonous land.  There was no wind now save, infrequently, frolicsome little whirlwinds which danced about him and were gone.  When he found that their play angered him, that they seemed to mock at his weariness and dying energies, he frowned.  This was no time and here was no place for nerves.

In the late afternoon, after having laboured all day through a hell of tedium and distress, he came to the water-hole.  He marked it from afar by its dusty willows; he wondered if this time he would find water.  It struck him that he must.  He began to walk faster; he curbed a heady desire to break into a run.  As it was, he came slowly, steadily to the spot.  And there was no water.  He would not believe it.  He walked along the line of willows, looking carefully everywhere.  And not until he had looked everywhere did he give up.  Oddly, his compelling want at the moment was less for a drink than for a smoke.  He began rolling a cigarette.  Half-way through the brief task he desisted, returning the thimbleful of tobacco to its sack.  For the hot smoke would merely dry out further his already dry mouth.

He lay down in what shade he could find and estimated very carefully the amount of water in his canteen.  He weighed the vessel in his hand; he unscrewed the top and held it so as to look into it.

‘I’ve got about three cupfuls,’ he told himself.

Again he studied his map.  Again he ate sparingly and thereafter took a sip of water.  He screwed the top on quickly and tightly, jealous even of a drop which might evaporate in this sponge-air.  He stood up, knowing that he must not loiter.  For each second his thirst would increase as the arid air took the moisture forth through the pores of his body.  Before he had moved a step forward he saw a man coming toward him.  He laughed outright, a laugh of suddenly relieved nerves which had been very tense.  That man would have water and would know where other water was to be found.

The man came neither from the direction of Quigley nor yet of Desert Valley.  Rather he was coming in from the north, would cut Howard’s trail almost at right angles.  He was on foot.  Howard wondered at that.  Further, the man had a strange way of walking.  He was half naked and about his head a dark cloth was tied.  He trotted a few steps, seemed to hesitate and balance, he came on head down.  Something seemed to get in the way of his feet; he stumbled, caught himself, stumbled a second time and fell on his face.  He got to his hands and knees, slowly rose to his feet and came on, walking crazily.  Then Howard understood.  The man was an Indian or a half-breed and he was dying of thirst.