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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1892-4-21, Page 2"LOT." tinder now, hanging at their necks, were a bevy burden, Wiser than their masters, they had crawled beneath the shade,scnty A S UM' ar the Anserawan tensile as it was, of the boxwood trees, and stood there patiently waiting—for what ? For death and the pitiless crows patiently wail. ing overhead, "Exactly," Helm answered, his compete. ion's unspoken thought, "but we can't sit and wait like,that. Man, we must try to get out of this at any rate. We can't. at here and wait for the crows." Anierson sighed heavily. t What eau we do.?" he asked. • "• We must spell a bit. The horses are done. As It is, Prn afraid your's will have to be lefta.nd we'll have to go on loot. There must be water about somewhere, for look at the crows; but we can't find it, and we couldn't have searched more carefully." "Why dot shoot the old terse if he's no good, His blood migitt---" " Nonsense, man. Aren't you bushman enough yet to know that drinking blood's otininitv_t_he,leeginning of the end t Once we do Well after?" asked Heim. But the other did Dot answer, foe he, too in his heart, was asking, "After?" And their lips were dry and parched, and their tongues swollen, and before them lay the salt -pan with right in the °sutra a little gleam of dark blue water which molted their misery. TLere was nothing for it but, to lie down beneath the scanty shade and rest. They were too weary to push on, all their energy bed departed, and Helm, lying on his back looking up at the patches of blue sky that peeped- through the branches, said with a sigh; "If we're done for, I wish to heaven the end would come now. I can't stand the thought of—of—What's it like °Uinta? Is it very bad, do you think?" "As bad as bad can be," "And is there no hope?" Helm, old man, we've lost the break !" "Don't be a howlingeidiot, man, Lost ! how could we be lost? Why, there's the tee,* right ahead, and pretty fresh, too." But Anaemia flungatimself off his horse en ta the dry crisp grass andcovered his face with his hands. "1 tell you," reiterated his mate, leaning forward in his saddle and shading his eyes, 4'1 ae,a hoof -marks quite plain. Why, they might have been inade yesterday !" They were made yesterday," groaned the other hopelessly, 'Don't you see, my dear fellow, we made theta ourselves." " What !" Ifelna raised his head and swore a passion- ate oath, then sprang fronan his horse, stoop- ed over the faint track, ran wildly along it for a few yards, turned back, and agatn cried out that the other was playing some pestle, joke off on him. "It's two bad, Anderson, too bad. Get op, man and. don't. be a fool ! Come on, there's very- likely water on the other side of that. ridge. You'll feel better after you've had a good drink." "That's the ridge we paased lest night, I tell you. Water—eh, yes, there's water there, but it's as salt as the sea." 4' The salt -pan ! No, by heaven, no, I won't believe that.! That's miles behind "Nevertheless," said the other man drearily, "it's the same old salt -pan. You'll gee iethe moment we cross the ridge." " Come on, then, come on, Don't sit groaning there; let's know the worst. I carat believe it, I won't believe it till I see for myself." "The horses ought to have a, spell if we're ever to get out of this," muttered Anderson but he followed hita companionnlead, mount- ed his tired horse'and rode slowly cm after litin towards the still distant ridge. Out beck beyond. the Mulligan is No Man's Land. They had gone out to seek new country, crossed the Queensland border into South Australia, and now, old bushman as be was, Anderson bed only the vagneat idea of them whereabouts. Ever sinee they started it had been the same troable. The season had. been exceptionally dry, and everywhere the waters were dried up. Firat one horse had died, then another, until at last they were reduced to only three; still they had pushed on, for the blacks told a tale of a magnificent water -bole where the water was permanent, and Anderson bad a certain amount of faith in the unerring wisdom of the children of the soil where water was concerned. So he pushed on, hoping against hope, till the younger man, more fearful, perhaps more prudent per- suaded him to turn -back. But it was too late. The weakest horse, the one they had mewl as 5. pack -horse, gave in, and had to be left behind. the first day of their return lourney ; and new, on the fourth, they had test made the terrible discovery they were going round on their own tracks. They hacl been so thankful—so hopeful—when they struck that track in the morning. Anderson knew there was another party put batter appointed than they were; these might be their tracks, and possibly they had water with them—they might even have nome across watar—and water—water—if Drily they had v. little water. And so they had pushed on, eagerly, hopefully, till the terrible truth began to dawn on the elder and more experienced bushman. The weather for the last two days had been dull and cloudy, they had not taught a glimpse of the sun, and hourly they had expeeted a thunder -storm, which would ;tot only clear the air, but would supply them with the water they needed ; but to. day the clouds had all cleared away, and the only effect of their presence had been that they had lost their bearings complete- ly. Where and when they bad lost them .A.nderson could not say evea now, and he was loath at first to share his misgivings with his mate; but the sight of the ridge decided him. If they found, as he fully ex- pected to, the salt -pan they had. passed the night before on, the other side, then most surely they were lost men—lost ia a cruel, thirsty land where no water was. He pondered it over in his mind as he rode slowly after his companion. "There was no hope. There could possibly be no hope." Over and over again he said it to himself as a man who bardly realizes his own words— and then they topped the low ridge, and right at his feet lay the salt -pan glittering in the sun. "Cruel—cruel—cruel !" Helm had flung himself face downwards on the hard ground now and given way to a paroxysm of dis- pair all the more bitter for his former hope- fulness. Anderson looked down on him pityingly for a moment, as oue who had no part in his trouble; then he looked away again. Save for the sunshine, it was exact- ly the same scene, the very same they had looked upon last night—there lay the glit- teringsalt-pan, white as driven snow, above it the hard blue cloudless sky, and all around the dreary plain, broken only by the ridge Ii which they stood. And yet in different ...c.t.weetanees he eweht have admired the landscape, for it haa a weird itealetee ple its own; mules and miles he could see in the clear bright atmosphere, far away to the other side of the wide lake, where a dark clump of trees or scrub was apparently rais- ed in the sky, high above the horizon. He knew it was only the effect of the mirage, another token, had he needed a token, that th re was no moisture, no water, not the fai West chance of a drop of ram. haul yet there had been some rain not so very long ago, tor the mecombryanthemum, growing in dark green patches close to the edge of the salt, was all in fiower—pink, and red, and brightest yellow, such gorgeous color- ing—and by that strange association of ideas, for which who shall account, his thoughts flew back to the last Cup Day, and he saw again the Flemington race -course, and heard an fancy the shouts of the people as the favorite passed the winning.post, On tlte groand in front of him -were long lines of crows, perched in the stunted boxwood trees above his head, filling the air with their monotonous cawing. He laughed at the mockery of the thing. The other man raised his head. "Old man, what is it Is it possible that hat -could he say, this man who had lived in the bush all els ? What hope could he give, when practically his exper- ience told him there was no hope—that if they would mime themselves from needless pain they would turn their pistols against theroaelves and dio there and at owe. Bat the love of life ie stroog la us all and the hope of life is as strong. How could they dies these strong men with life in every vein? No no, surely it was impassible. An iguana sodttled acros3 ia front of them, and Heim started up eagerly. "There." Le said, "there—ad mid I never thonsbt. Look at that beast. There must be water somewhere, en how could he hve." Anderson sighed. 'Yes, there's the bitterness of it. I know there's water about if only we could find it; butes we didn't find any when we had everything in our favor, there's uot much good in our wasting time looking now. After all I believe those beasts must live without, though they say they don't, No, ,old chap, our only hope ties in pushing on to the neareet water we know of,' Then don't let's lie here wasting precious minutes, Every moment is of consequence; let's make a start. We mustpush on." Push on 1 They had been pushing on ever since they left " Yerla" station ten days ago, and this was what it had brought them to, no good wearing ourselves out in the heat of the day," said Anderson ; "wait till evening and we'll do twice as much." "Which way?" What wild imaginings for the moment had passed through his brain he could not himself have told; but, whatever his hopes might have been, they were gone the moe meet he looked in his mate's face. "Man," he said, sharply, " ere you mad?" Anderson was entered in a second. "No' he said, bitterly, " but as far as I can zee, it must come to that before we've done." No, no, we won't give up hope yet! Is there no hope?" Anderson sat downbeside him and point- ed silently to the horses. If ever poor beasts were done, were at their last gasp, they were, as they need there, their noses touch- ing the ground. The bushman's slender equipment had been reduced to its scanti- est proportions, and yet it seemed cruelty to force them to carry even those slender packs; even the %nom water -bags, dry as He broke a branch from a tree, thereby scattering the crows, and stepped down to the edge of the glittering white- salt. It crunched beneath his feet like sand, and he Went on till the hard crust began to give way beneath hira and the thiek mud oozed up. Then, when he thought it was moist enough to resist the fierce hob wiad, whieh was blowing from the north like a breath from au oven, he prepared to write his last message. And then came the diffioulty. What was he to say? What. could he say? Not that he had so little, but so much. And itaraight never be read after all, or at best it would only be read by some station baud who, once they were dead, would give but • a passing thought to their message, only a passingethought to their - sufferings. They had found a skeleton, he remembered, the firse year he had been on Yerlo," a skeleton' that must have been lying there years, a poor, wind -tossed, sun- baked thing from which all semblance of humanity had long since departed, and he, in his carelessness, had thought so little of it, had never realized the awful suffering that must have been before the strong man came to that. And now—and now—he toe& his stick and wrote in large printed letters on the crisp salt : "STOP. "LOST. "jams Anderson and Charles Helm were lost on the 20th Gabber, They have gone S. E. from the selt-pan. Will you kindly send word to Mrit elm, The Esplat male, St. Kilda, and to Miss Drysdale, Gipps Street, East alelborne?" Then he tvrote bis mane, "Charles Hel in." It seemed so feeble, so inadequate, not a hendredth vart of what lie felt did it er. press, and yet, what could he say? Not even itt his extremity could he write tender messages to his loved ones there. They would. know, surely they would know, they would understand that ins thoughts bad beeu full of them when he wrote that cold message What more could he say? But would they ever knew the love andlonging that had fillea his heart? Would his mother ever know that her boy bad thought of her at the last? Would Mabel Drysdale under. stand how he had eared for her ?—all he bad meant to convoy by the mere mention of her name? He atepped slowly back and wakened his companion. "Mate," he said, "don't you think weal better be travelling? It's a little cooler now, and it's getting late," Anderson struggled 1,0 his feet wearily, and then went down to the salt -pan. "So you've been leaving a last message," he said; "I'm afraid it's not much good. Who's likely to pass this way?" "It's only a chance, of course," said Helm, "but—well—Pd like them, if pos- sible, to know ra thought of tam." "And a woman, too," laughtd Anderson cynically; "if we get out of this you'll learn I expect, past about how little value she sot on your care for her." You've been unlucky," said the young- er man gently '• "there are women who— but th' ere I don't suppose we'll come through. Anyhow it's time we started." " Well—well keep your taith and r11 keep mine. Perhaps here and there there may be woman worth cuing about, but they're few and far between.' "Don't you want to say anything '1" ask- ed Helm. Southeast, I think. If we can only hold out we ought to fetch Gerring Gerring Water. As far as I know, this must be Tamba salt lake, and if so---" " Karinden just to the north there." "A hundred and twenty miles at the very least, and not a drop of water the whole Way. No, that's out of the queetion, old man; our only hope lies in reaching Gearing Gerring.' "And you don't see much probability of our doing that?" "Well, we can try." He felt a great pity, this older man, for the lad—he called him a lad for all his four and twenty years—doomed to die, nay, dying at this very moment, in the prime of his manhood. They could but try, he said, over and over amain they could but try. And then as they rested they fell to talk- ing ot other things —talked of their past lives and of their homes as neither, perhaps, had ever talked. before. My old motheral miss me," said Charlie Helm, with a sigh, "though Lord knows when she'll ever hear the truth of the matter." " Umph, I don't know but I guess if we do peg out, it'll be some considerable One before they can read the store account over us. liave you got any paper about you ? " "Not a scrap. We es,n leave a message on the salt though." "Itill be blown away before to -morrow. Wh,o do you want to write bo? Your moth- er That girl ?" Helm turned his face away. This man had no right to pry into his private con - mew. "Write to your mother, lad, write to your mother by all means. Mothers are made of different clay from other women; but don't you bother aboub the other. Women are all alike, take my word for it. It's out of sight out of nand with all of them. But write to your mother." grass, in *thus, not a living thing visible; even the crows had gone, and though the foul birds had filled Helm with a shrinking horror, their abseuce WAS still more terrible, for did it not show that they were plunging farther and farther into the desert, feather and farther from the, water without which they could not live out another (lay? The sun, rose higher and higher till the full force of his rays seemed more than they could bear, and yet the nearest shade was miles away, a line of trees or scrub dim on the horizon. Neither mentioned the significance of the absence of the crows, though both wero thinking of it, but at last Helm said: "The trees—lee's g� for the trees, This is past bearing." But Anderson shook his head. "They're clean out of the way, man he said sadly. "Try to hold out, a little ;orig. er. 'The old horse is keeping up wonder- fully. I never thought he'd hold out so long." "He's very nearly at his last gasp," eaid Helm, and they relapsed into silence again. On, and on, and on. The thirst was so bad now they could hardly speak to one an- other ; still they pushed =ander the burn. ing raes of the almost vertical sun every atep it seemed must be their last. Was it really only last night they diatovered they were lost—only last night? Another mile, and another, and the heat grew unbearable, and Helm without e word turned to the left and made for the trees. Anderson paused a moment and then followed him, though to him it was giving up the struggle. If they turned out of the path which led to the only water they knew of, turned into this path- less wilderness, what possible chamee was there fcts them? And yet how could they stand thisterrible heat any longer? "I tell you I shall go mad," moaned Helm "I didn't think I was a coward, but I can't stand this. Old chap, don't let me go mad; shoot me if you see I'm going mad."l "Mad," saia the other bravely; " non- sense, mau, you're all right. You'll feel better presently when you've had a spell." The line of trees resolved itself on closer inspection into close growing gidya scrub, and long before they reached It the craws had again made their appeerauce. A little flock kept them comp.any, waiting on in Iron; rushing up belted as if perehance they might be late, wheeling rotted on ei- ther side. "There must be water there," said Reim eagerly; "look et the crows agent" "Don't build on it, old obap," said the other. "The scrub Is too thick for us to find it," But Helm was not to be dissuaded, and he wasted his energies in a frantic seam]) for water. His mete looked more soberly, be- cause more hopelessly, but the result was the seine, mid finally they lay down in the shade and slept again, slept soundly too, in spite of the crows, which were more confi- dent, more impudent than ever. Night fell, end with the darknees grew in Hahn an Intense desire to be on the way again. " We're wasting time," he kept saying hoarsely, for hia tongue was so swollen he could hardly speak at all—" wasting time. Don'e you see they'll be expecting us in to supper at Gerring Gerring, and I shouldn't like the crows to get there -first. They might frighten her, you know; she's only a girl and she beside seen so much of them as you and me. Those knowing old crows they're not here now. Don't you see that's why they want to get there first?" " Be quiet, man. You're dreaming." "Dreaming, was I? Anderson, Anderson, mate, I'm not going mad. For God's sake, don't lot me go mad." " No, no, old man, it's all right. We're on the right track now. Here, I'll take the horse and you give me your arm. There, now then, if we luck we may hit (tarring Gerring before morning." They walked on in silence, but Haim kept stumbling, a d but for his companion's sup- porting arm would have hake tnore than WOO. The moon rose up, and as it grew light an day again he stopped short and looked solemnly in his companion's face, It was worn and haggard and weary, but not i so wild, be felt nstinctively, as his own. "Anderson," he said, "I know I'm done for. My head's all wrong. It's cooler now, but what'll it be to -morrow? If—if—if I do anything marl before I die don't tell her. I'd like her to think well of me. Suet shy I died, don't say how it hurts.' "All right, mate," said the oeher," for he had no comfort to give. And then they walked on again in silenee till the moon declined before the coining day, the cruel day, which brought the heat and the following crows again. Dawn brought them to a patch of "dead finish,' as the settlers call a dense and thorny scrub with pretty green leaves through which it is well -Melt impossible to force a way even under the racist favorable circumstances, and which p. :Wed an utterly impassable barrier 1.0 men in their condition. They turned aside tines more, and Anderson thought to bunself that they must -indeed have given up hope to bestopped by an lin. pasilik barrier aud yet to make no moan. it was surely the very depths of hopeless- ness when all ways were alike to them. Be looked back on their tracks and dismay fill- ed his heart; they were not firm 9.nd straight, but wavering and evanderine_elike those of inen in the last extremity. He had follow- ed tracks like these before now, and they always lea to the Barna thing. He won- dered dully would any one ever follow those marks. A little farthet on Helin let go his cart and ran on ahead. . "We'll never do any good ab this rate." he gasped, "never—never" and he pulled at the collar of his shire till he tore it away. "We mast have soniething to drink. We'll die else, and I MUM to have a fight for my life. There's the old horse, he can't stagger a step farther; what's the good of keeping him? Let's shoot him—ana—and.----There's enough blood in him to—to---" "No, no, man, no. I tell you that's the beginning of the end—more than the begin- ning—the end in face" . "1 don't care. I can't stand this "; and before Anderson could stop him, Helm had drawn his pistol end shot the horse in the head. The poor beast was at his last gasp, and for the last hour • Anderson heel been medi- tating the advisability of lea.ving him behind so it .was no material loss; Ins only care now was to prevent his mate •froin.drinkieg the blood, which, according to the faith of the bushman, is worse than drinking ,salt water. . "Poor old beggar," he said, taking bis pistols and cartridges from the saddle, where they had been wrapped among the blankets, "1 suppose it was about the kindest. thing we could do for him., Coale ow mate, we must leave him to the crows now," and he caught Helm's arm, and would have led him on. But the other resisted, and breaking free ran back, and before he could stop him had drawn his knife acrosa the horse's throat ana taken a long draught of blood, Does it mind ghastly') But Stich things, ere, aed his lips were dry and parched, and his throat eo swollen that he could , only speak in hoarse whispers, and so great was the temptation that Anderson, looking " Who ? I? No. Who is there to care a straw whether I leave my carcase to tho crows or not? There's only the boy, aud he's too young to underatand. But, I says you might have mentionea the name of the station," and taking the stick from Helm's hand, he walked out on the salt and wrote: "Please let them know Yerlo,' "and signed his name, " James Anderson." There's my lase will and testament," he said. "Come on now." Hahn went up to the horses. " no go," he "My poor old beggar's done." I expected it, old chap. We'll have to foot it ; mines only a. shade better than yours. Clearly we'll have to leave yours behind. Mine can carry the pack a little farther, but I really don't think he can carry me." It was still very hot, but the shadows of the boxwood trees had grown longer and there was just a promise of the coming night in the air. They must tvalk, for they had only the one horse now, and it did not seem likely he could out leng. The other bat lain down to die, and whether this ono could crawl on under their slender pack was a tmes- Won Anderson asked himself more than once. That he could carry either of them was tete Of the question. 'They put a blank- ket er two on his beck, their pistols, 9,nd the empty water -bags, and then it seemea cruelty to force the poor beast to move, bub necessity knows 210 law, and they started slowly on their hopeless journey round the salt -pan, Anderson lending the way, Helm following with the horse. So slowly they went, aud their only hope lay in speech Helm looked back el ittle sadly at the dying horse, which had made an effort to rise as if in mute protest against being left. "Poor old beggar," le said, " Wouldn't it be kinder to put him out of his misery ?" "Oh, give him a chance for his life," said Anderson. "I've known horsee to recover in the mostwonderful way. After he's had a spell he may find water for himself ; any- how we'll give him the chance." It was a blessed relief when the sun sank beneath the horizon: the night was still 9,nd hot, but the wind dropped. at sundown and the men found it easier to walk in the dark. The crows had followed them as long as it was day, but they, too, left as soon as the darkness fell. They were unaccustomed to walking,. and it would_ have been hard work under the most favorable circumstan- ces; as it was, it WAS cruel. They did not talk much for what had they to say An hour or two and the moon rose, a hill moon, red and fiery; and as she rose slowly to the zenith, silvering as she rose, the plain grew light as day. Every little stick and stone, every little grass blade, was clearly 'outlined • the low ridge which they were leaving behind, the ridge where they had found their worst fears realized, loomed large ;behind them, while the salt -pan to their left stretched away one great lake of glittering white, which it seemed to Helm they could never round. "How long, Anderson," he asked, "be- fore we can hope to reach the other side?" " Not before morning, man. a don't see we can do it before morning." • Then they plodded on alittle farther, nei- ther liking to be the first to give in, though their mouths were parched and burning thirst was consuming them. But (till they walked steadily on till more than half the night was gone; at list Helm flung himself down on the ground. ' " I must rest," he said "if I die for ie;" and Anderson sat down quietly beside him. Then sleep, merciful sleep, came to them in their weariness, and they slept till the first faint streaks of dawn began to appear in the eastern sky. It was a dreary, hope- less waking. The salt lake was behind them now and all areund wa,s the plain, bare, hard earth in some ola.ces, patches of "Some one may pass this way," pondered the younger man, hardly heeding his words. "TVs just worth trying," and he lay silent while Anderson talked on, or ra.therthought aloud. "It's of the boy I'm thinking," he saAd— " the poor helplesa little one. He never throve since his mother died. She didn't go much on me, but the boy was everything to her though he was a cripple. Well—well —if I were only certain he was dead now, it wouldn't, be half so hard. He'd be better dead, I know, but I couldn't think it before; he was all I had, and the last time I saw him he put up his little hand—such a mite of a hand—and clutched hie daddy's beard. He was all I had; how could I wish him dead? But now—now—my God l—if I was certain he was dead and it hadn't hurt much." Helm sprang to hie feet and swore an oath. " We're not going to die," he cried "not as easily al; all that. COMA Oil ; we have wasted enoughanecious time." " Not till it's a little cooler. It's no good I tell you, wearing ourselves out in the heat." And Helm, seeing the advice was good, lay down again—lay down and triecl. not to listen to the cawing of the cows, the only sound that broke the stillness—tried not to think of cool waters; not to think of a household down south ; not to think of the girl who, notwithstanding his mate's cynic. al warning, filled all his thoughts. He dozed a little and dreamed, and wakened with a start and a strong feeling upon him that it had been something more than a dream, that some one had really called him, was calling him still. Was it his mother's voice, or that girl's, or was it Anderson's? Ander- son was sleeping heavily, and, strong man as he WAS, sobbing in his sleep. Iielm stretched out a hand to awaken him, and then paused. Why should he? What had he better to offer than these brokenalreams ? mooking mirage in the distance, felt that he too aught as well drink and ; only the thought of the cripple boy who would. be alone in the world but for him made him nake one more desperate effort for self -con - :rot. He took the younger MAO'S arm and drag - gad hint on, skirting slowly round tile "dead finish" till at length late in the afternoon, it gave place to boree. His owa senses were clear enough, but Helm, was muttering wildly, and he listened with un- heeding ears to his babble of home and moth- er and, sweetheart. They could not go fir, and soon they forced their way 'in among the scrub, and though the burning thirst, was worse than ever, the shade was grateful. The crows stopped too, and settled on the low trees, turning their evil blue -black heads on one side to get a better view of their prey, "I can't keep my head," moaned Helm, "I can't I have been mad all day. I know I have, It has stretched, out into ages, this long day, mid not over yea When were we lost? Yesterda The day before? It feels like years." "Never mind," said Anderson, not un- kindly; "it cau't be much longer now, Try to sleep, old man." "Sleep with a thousand devils tearing at inc But they did sleep after all, wearied, troubled sleep, a broken sleep full of fright-. fel dreams, or still more cruel ones of cool- ing streams and rippling waters. Night came, and Anderson awoke from whatseem- ed to him a doze of a moment to find his companion gone from his side. For a. second the thought came to him that it was not worth while to look for him, He was mad —mad, and where was the use of troubling about him any further? And then his better feelings, and perhaps that longing for human compauionship winch we all must feel, made him rise up and look for him. Up and down, he was staggering up and down, a hundred feet one way and then back again on his own tracks. We must get on, old chap," he mutter- ed when he sew Anderson, we must get on, You rest if you like theugh ; there istat anybody waiting for you ; but alabel, alie's waiting for me, and I most try and get back. She woold be disappointed else. thieve I ot °aurae she'll grieve if I'm lost. All the world isn't a cynic like you. Anderson took his arm again. We'll go together," he said. "If you do care a straw about seeing her again, come on quietly with me." He yielded for the moment, but it requir- ed one continuous effort on Anderaonti part to keep him up to it. Plainly Ida reason was gone, and tho other man, growing weaker and weaker, found by the time the sun was high in the heavens that the effort was more them he could make. It was the end, or so close that he could only hope and pray the end would eome quickly. The young fellow had atrugglecl on so bravely, so hopeinlly, and now it had cone to this. They had left the serab behind theist and Andersen made his way to a tree the only specimen of it a kind in all the wide plain, and lay down beneath its branchee—to reab ? No, he felt in his heare it was to die. Helm he could not persuade to lie down. 'Ho kept staggering on hopelesely round and round the tree, struggling to keep in the shade, fancying, as many a lost lean has done beano him, that he was "pushing on." It was the same old story. Anderson had heard it told hundreds of times over the camp-fire—one man will lie down to die quietly and the other will go raving mad. So Helm had gone mad, poor chap; and then he remembered his passionate prayer to him, nob to let him go mad, to shape hiin if he saw he was going mad, and he lay and look- ed up at the hard blue sky through the leaves, and at the watchingarows, and knew that he was only waiting for deatb, knew that he was too utterly weary to aid in any way his mate. He listened to him mutter- ing to himaelf for a ,little, watched him as he went monotonously round and round. It was not so bard alter all—not near so hard for him as for Helm. If only the boy were dead he thought wearily, if only the boy were dead he would be glad thatthis should end it ; his life was never worth much, be had failed all through, he would be glad to be at rest—if only the boy were there before hint; but the boy—the poor little helpless thing—he must make another effort for the boy's sake, and he struggled to his feet again. But the burning. landscape was a blood -red blur before Ms eyes, and then quite suddenly, it seemea to him, sight an hearing kft him. He was dying—was this death? How merciful death was—if only the boy -- Very wearily he opened his eyes. Could it be that some one was pourina water down his throat? Some one was bathing his face. "He's coming to," said a voice in his ear. "]3y Jove, it was a marrow shave. The other poor chap's done for isn't he, Ned ?" "Quite dead. He went mad evidently, clean off his head. .Why, the peer chap had begun on his own grave." Anderson flung the reins to the lad and walked quietly into the house. It i/vas mistake, he clearly saw, coming back, from the grave. He wished he bad died within five miles of Gerring tterring Wettae-,- Mary. Ga,unt ie the Englieh Illustrated egume, When Anderson came to himself he found he had been picked up by the other explor- ing party: "We pecked up your tracks away by the dead fluish" there," said the leader, 'and I thought it mustbe pretty near U P with you. You've had the devil's own luck, mate. Why, you were within five miles of Gerring Gerring Water, and over by the dead finish' you passed within three miles of a very decent waterhole, quite good enough to have kept life within you. You shot the horse ?" . "My mate did. He was mad, poor fellow. "Poor beggar, he seems to have nasi a bad time, but it's all over now." It was indeed all over now. They had wrapped him inc blanket and were digging a shallow grave. He had begun it himself, they said, and had been digging with his long knife, though whether it was for water, or whether it WAS really intended for a grave, no one could now say. His sufferings were ended. They left him there in the desert, the young fellow who had fought so hard for life 9,nd set so much store by it; and as soon as Andersen was a little recovered set out for " Yerlo" again. It was over a week before he reached the station, so far had he wandered out of the track, and as he rode up to the house a stable -boy lounged up to him. "What a while you've been away, bets," Ise said, "We'd most given you up for lost. The mail's in and there's a pile of letters for Mr, Helm. None for you though." "Is everything all right ?" asked Ander- SOB, feeling like a man who had come back from the grave. bad. news. don't "N-o-o,there's mighty Olike touttewilittlhioitu,gilnia'n" Don't keep me wait - The Dog Howled, on His Grave. Mr. William Gohm, clerk of the tow* of Macaulay, Muskoka, a reliable an. ti ful man, relates this story, which c substantiated by several of his neigh viz., the Zimmdrmens, Longforde and lips. Oa the corner of the Longford and north of Mr. Gohm's there is a graveyard. About two months ago a known collie dog was seen in the dey and heard howling and crying at nig 9,nd around the graveyard. About weeks thereafter it was aseertaaned the dog belonged to Robert Cooper this day Robert Was passing the grave when the dog save hint and ran to him followed him. hoine."-Robert had been well for some time, but got much wors next day and died in about a week. reinains were interred in this grave and the dog has been there nearly all time since ancl makes the MOAB hideou its mournful howling. It has been home and tied, but returns to the gram soon as let loose. The people around t are not given to superstition, being I headed kind of Methodists, but they puzzled to know why the dog visited graveyard and remained, there howling fore his master died. ••••P•••••••.•1. Quite a Noticeable Difference. " the mon troat you any„ differs since you hey° been promoted ? aeke friend. " Yes; a little." "Moro respectful to you, I suppose " Ye.es ; but thet'a nct the most ao able thing." • "Don't grumble when you ask then do anything, perhaps ?" "Not $o much as they used to; but isn't the greatest difference.' "Wall, then, what is ?" "Why, they always laugh now wit telt a funny ,stery." "Really 1 ' " Oh, yes; and they seem intere when I talk of the brizitt things my ail say and do,” The friend gave a dubious shake a head. "Don't yon let Blaine bear of that,' said, James G. Blaine?" asked the othe surprise. "Certainly." "Why not?" "He'll be offering them foreign missi You bave office full of diplomats (Chicago Herald. An Amicable Arrange= Row is it, Uncle Bastes," said a tleiran to a darkey, "that you I married ? Aren't you an admirer of the er sex ?" " 1 fat er duel winni 'bout a replied Uncle Rastus. ' r A duel?" " salt ; yeabs and yeahs ago. Jackson an myself, we boalubbed da gal; we were bof boun' to git dab, A business climaxed in er duel. We aid a trifle nahvons, sah, an"stead ob sne tin' Sam or Sam hittin' me we brou down a vallyble mutat t walistandire de fence." "Ansi did you fire again ?" asked gentlemen, very much interested. "No, mix, clat wuz a vary vallyble sr boss, and' WO bof felt kinder skeart like we entered into and anaericable prearra menth "How did you settle it ?" " Sam tuk de gal an"greed to pay fo mule, an' I hale% tubbed sence . Germany's Ex -Chancellor. Prince Bismarck was seventy-seven ye old on A.pril 1st. The day was marked the attendance at Friedrichsruhe, wh the Prince resides, of a much larger num of persons than usually have visited h there on similar occasions. The Prince h a reception in the park and had a hear word for all who called upon him. looked remarkably well. A. large numb of floral gifts was sent to him from all par of the empire. Numerous depu Wens from various parts of the count waited upon and congratulated him thanking a deputation representing 10, miners in the I3ochum district, the Prin said that coal and iron were closely a sociated with husbandry. He himself w a farmer, and he never credited aspersio upon the Bochum industry. The enviro ot Friedriclisrulie were densely thronged day with people, all desirous of honorin the great German statesman. At night tl place was brilliantly illuminated and a torc lighb procession was held. The Prince' birthday was warmly celebrated inBerlin an other placeethroughout,Germany. A tel grain of congratulations was sent to th former Chancellor on beataf of the member of the National Liberal Party. mg. The lad looked away and turned his pipe froin one side of his mouth to the other. "It's your youngster," he sai4. " He had convulsions last Sunday.. Mrs. Brook —ahe said as nothitig couldn't have saved away at the bare pitiless plain with the hine " It was a blessed release," she ciaid." Could 'Wait a Little. Peddler—"Is your mother in?" Little Girl—"I haven't any. She's dead.' "How long has she been dead ?" "'Bout a year." "Is your stepmother in r' "1 haven't any yet." "Well, Pll wait." -- Vigorous Kissing. Mother—" Bobby, come right up stairs this instant and change your shoes and stockings." Bobby—" They islet wet." Mother -et" Indeed they are, just soaking, I can hear them sop, sop, sop,' whenever you walk." Bobby—" That's Sis and Mr. Nicefello' in th' parlor." A Puzzling Reply. Col. Yerger, having waited a considerable length of time for his supper at an Austin restaurant, as a sort of a hint Joked the Irish waiter what o'clock it was "Twenty tninutes to ate, sor," was the reply. . Col. Yerger was puzzled to know whether the waiter meant twenty minutes to wait, twenty minutes to eight, or twenty minutes to ate. Business Abtrat to rick IT% Wilkins," said the proprietor of the green -house, "how are we off for flowers this rnotning ?" We've got a pretty good supply," re- plied the junior florist. "Plenty of Jack' roses, American Beau- ties, violets and lanes of the'velleys ?" e, ,"Lotsehe ol'enirL "Raise e of them ttventy-five per caennottheaur aweifneg.maguerenanr8e8riniai Sistant They've g°t' 05 Oc, tante:tea se•-te,h, •