There's a moon to-
night--how about starting along about midnight? That would put
us in the Bend early in the forenoon to-morrow."
"Suits me," said Cash. "Now I've made up my mind about going, I
can't go too soon."
"You're on. Midnight sees us started." Bud went out with ropes
to catch and tie up the burros and their two saddle horses. And
as he went, for the first time in two months he whistled; a
detail which Cash noted with a queer kind of smile.
Midnight and the moon riding high in the purple bowl of sky
sprinkled thick with stars; with a little, warm wind stirring the
parched weeds as they passed; with the burros shuffling single
file along the dim trail which was the short cut through the
hills to the Bend, Ed taking the lead, with the camp kitchen
wabbling lumpily on his back, Cora bringing up the rear with her
skinny colt trying its best to keep up, and with no pack at all;
so they started on the long, long journey to the green country.
A silent journey it was for the most part. The moon and the
starry bowl of sky had laid their spell upon the desert, and the
two men rode wordlessly, filled with vague, unreasoning regret
that they must go. Months they had spent with the desert,
learning well every little varying mood; cursing it for its
blistering heat and its sand storms and its parched thirst and
its utter, blank loneliness.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108