d burnt up with thirst, those without water to
moisten their parched lips and throats could scarcely keep pace with the
guide. By degrees they threw away their possessions--their blankets,
their clothes,--until the plain behind was strewn with them.

"Don't go so fast," groaned one.

"Won't ye halt a while?" said another uttering a curse--then, suddenly
changing his tone, he implored them to halt.

"We cannot halt. It is death to halt," said the guide, in a tone so
resolute and callous that those who were enfeebled lost heart
altogether, and began to lag behind.

At that time the man Bradling, who had become nearly mad with drinking
brandy, ran in succession to each of those who had water, and offered
all that he possessed of the former for one mouthful of the latter. His
flushed face, glassy eyes, and haggard air, told how terrible was his
extremity; but although some might have felt a touch of commiseration
not one was moved to relieve him. The law of self-preservation had
turned the hearts of all to stone. Yet not quite to stone, for there
were one or two among them who, although nothing would induce them to
give a single drop to a comrade, were content to do with _less_ in order
that they might relieve a friend!

One man in his desperation attempted to lick the bodies of the mules,
hoping to obtain relief from the exudations of their skins, but the dust
on them rendered this unavailing.

Suddenly Bradling darted at the water-skin hanging by the side of the
guide's mule, and swore he would have it or die.

"You'll die, then," observed the guide quietly, cocking a pistol and
presenting it at his head.

Bradling hesitated and looked at the man. There was a cold stony stare,
without the least excitement, in his look, which convinced him that his
attempt, if continued, would end in certain death. He fell back at once
with a deep groan.

Onward they pressed, hour after hour, until, in many of them, exhausted
nature began to give way. They became slightly delirious, and, finding
that they could not keep up with the party, a few determined, if left
behind, to keep together. Among the number was Bradling, and terrible
were the imprecations which he hurled after the more fortunate as they
parted. It seemed cruel; but to remain with them would have done no
good, while it would have sacrificed more lives. Bradling seemed to
regard Frank as his chief enemy, for he shouted his name as he was
moving off, pray