of that dreary sandy waste of which he was already so heartily sick that he hoped he might never set eyes on another desert in all his life.
And of course the more he considered his deplorable condition, the worse his sensation of hunger became. It seemed to Billie that he could not have eaten much of anything for a whole week, and he feared he would soon become so weak from starvation that it must be impossible for him to put one foot in front of another.
And yet this was the same boy who had devoured almost as much of that cooked venison at noon on the second day previous, as his two chums combined; followed that up with a hearty supper; then a breakfast and a lunch on the day they pushed out on the desert, and finally finished what food he had with him on the preceding evening.
Still, he was frightfully hungry, just as boys who never have missed a regular meal in all their lives, do get, when up against it for a change.
Billie plodded on.
The sun was now an hour high, and getting very hot, he thought, as he stopped to drop his burden and rest; while he took his red bandana handkerchief and mopped his streaming brow with it.
“I wonder how long I can hold out this way?” he asked himself, with a most forlorn air, and a dismal shake of the head. “If I only had some dried beef, or venison like the Injuns call pemmican,
to gnaw on, it wouldn’t be so bad; because then I’d keep my strength; but seems like there’s a gnawing inside me like my appetite was beginning to start on my vitals. I wonder if all starving people feel that way first. Oh! how ashamed I ought to be about the many times I’ve thrown away good crusts of bread, and such things. I’ll never be guilty of such a sinful waste again, so help me. I’ve reformed, I have, and I’m going to lead a different life after this, licking my platter clean every time. If I only had some of the stuff I’ve wasted right now,” and he fairly groaned as the delightful array came before his mental vision to tantalize him.
All at once Billie seemed to feel an electric flush. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again, as though fearing that he was dreaming.
Why, that peculiar haze, which is so often met with in dry seasons of the late summer, and hides the features of the landscape even within a mile of the observer, had apparently mysteriously lifted, so that he could see hills ahead; yes, and at no great distance either, the green trees looking like heavenly dashes of color after his eyes had been so long accustomed to only that deadly white of the desert.