prosperity and dying suddenly
beneath the sun. Along the river's edge little shreds of watercress
took root and threw out sprouts and blossoms; the clean water brought
forth snaky eel-grass and scum which fed a multitude of fishes; in the
shadows of deep rocks the great bony-tails and Colorado River salmon
lay in contented shoals, like hogs in wallows, but all the time the
water grew less and less. At every shower the Indian wheat sprang up
on the mesas, the myriad grass-seeds germinated and struggled forth,
sucking the last moisture from the earth to endow it with more seeds.
In springtime the deep-rooted mesquites and _palo verdes_ threw out
the golden halo of their flowers until the canyons were aflame; the
soggy _sahuaros_ drank a little at each sparse downpour and defied the
drought; all the world of desert plants flaunted their pigmented green
against the barren sky as if in grim contempt; but the little streams
ran weaker and weaker, creeping along under the sand to escape the
pitiless sun.

As Creede and Hardy rode out from Hidden Water, the earth lay dead
beneath their horses' feet--stark and naked, stripped to the rocks by
the sheep. Even on Bronco Mesa the ground was shorn of its covering;
the cloven hoofs of the sheep had passed over it like a scalping
knife, tearing off the last sun-blasted fringe of grass. In open
spaces where they had not found their way the gaunt cattle still
curled their hungry tongues beneath the bushes and fetched out spears
of grass, or licked the scanty Indian wheat from the earth itself.

With lips as tough and leathery as their indurated faces, the hardiest
of them worked their way into bunches of stick-cactus and _chollas_,
breaking down the guard of seemingly impenetrable spines and munching
on the juicy stalks; while along the ridges long-necked cows bobbed
for the high browse which the sheep had been unable to reach.

The famine was upon them; their hips stood out bony and unsightly
above their swollen stomachs as they racked across the benches, and
their eyes were wild and haggard. But to the eye of Creede, educated
by long experience, they were still strong and whole. The weaklings
were those that hung about the water, foot-sore from their long
journeyings to the distant hills and too weary to return. At the
spring-hole at Carrizo they found them gathered, the runts and roughs
of the range; old cows with importunate calves bunting at their
flaccid udders; young heifers, u