When he was hungry, he sat down in the shade, ate sparingly of these and of the delicious fruits that abound through all the country, and drank from the clear spring.
Thus passed the first few days of his journeying; but there came a time, when, out in the desert, his food became exhausted, and there were no cooling springs bubbling up from the yellow heat of the burning sand.
There were no trees, no fruit, no shade. He wandered on for two days and nights, until nature was almost exhausted, and when the third night came, he threw himself upon the sand to die.
He prayed devoutly to the Holy Virgin to intercede for his soul, and grant his fevered body rest; when, as he turned his head wearily, far out on the desert gleamed a light.
Hope rose in his bosom, and he drew his aching limbs onward, till nearer and nearer gleamed the blessed light from a cool oasis in the desert. Soon his foot pressed the soft turf, and green trees waved above his head.
The blessed Virgin had pitied him and listened to his prayer. He was saved.
He thought the waters of the running stream the sweetest music he had ever beard, and bending over, with his hand he raised to his parched lips a draught of holy water—for ’twas the Mother of Mercy’s gift—the gift of life.
Extreme thirst is the most intolerable of all sufferings—greater far than hunger. None but those who have endured its pangs, can have the least idea of the excruciating pain it brings.
After Francisco had drank the water, he was for a time very sick, but soon was sufficiently relieved to long for food and rest, so again he looked for the light that had guided him to the oasis.
Just before him, from the thicket of palm-trees it gleamed. He drew near cautiously, fearing it might prove the encampment of hostile Indians.