[THE PAINTED DESERT.]
A STORY OF NORTHERN ARIZONA.
BY KIRK MUNROE,
Author of "Rick Dale," "The Fur-Seal's Tooth," "Snow-Shoes and Sledges," "The Mate Series," etc.
CHAPTER III.
LOST ON THE PAINTED DESERT.
illed with a determination not to become rattled by the perils surrounding him, our young hunter at once proceeded to select a camping-place and make his scanty preparations for passing the long hours of darkness. With neither wood, water, nor grass to be seen in any direction, and all places looking alike uninviting, the task was not difficult. Dismounting, and leading his horse to a little recessed gully at the foot of a steep bluff, which would at least afford a shelter from the wind, Todd unsaddled, fastened the free end of the picket-rope to a bowlder, cleared away the rocky fragments from a small space of level sand, and unrolled his blankets.
Thus the sorry camp was made; and as the poor boy contrasted it with the one he had occupied but the night before—a camp of cheerful fires, merry talk, an abundance of food, and an atmosphere of perfect security—the horrors of his present position crowded upon him like black forms, from which he recoiled with a shiver of apprehension. He found in one of his pockets half a hard biscuit that remained from his lunch of that day, and this, with a sup of lukewarm water from the scanty supply still remaining in his canteen, formed his evening meal. Then, with the saddle for a pillow and rifle by his side, he rolled himself in his blankets and tried to sleep.