unted, scraggly trees.

Here was something queer; I thought of Slide-Rock Pete and his luck
charms. I regretted more than ever that I had not got a single bunny.
I felt the need of a rabbit's foot.

Shaking myself to shed rain and forebodings, I crossed the street and
knocked boldly upon the door of the nearest house. There was no
response. Again I knocked, louder and more insistently. My raps came
echoing back emptily. I knocked again. A door, creaking on rusty
hinges, swung slowly inward, but no one peered out, inviting me to
enter. I backed away from the yawning cavern, blacker than the
starless night, into the open road. A little saw-whet owl, seeking, as
I was, supper, swooped by on muffled wings, and sawed wood, saying
nothing. I jeered back at him, and felt my courage rising. I stepped
up resolutely to the next house and beat upon its door. There was
instant commotion, a rattling of pans, the clink of dishes as though
some one hurried to the door. Straightening up and facing the door
expectantly, I smiled in anticipation of a hospitable welcome. Then
the sounds ceased. My courage oozed away--an unreasonable fear crept
over me. I lost my desire for food and rest--I would as soon have
rested in a grave.

Once more I stood in the rutted street, searching its brief length for
a human form. I had the feeling that the inhabitants of the town were
somewhere about, that they had just stepped out, leaving their doors
unlocked against their early return. Perhaps there was a dance or a
celebration of some sort in the neighboring village. Strange some one
didn't stay behind.

The sudden eerie notes of a coyote caused my hair to lift--why couldn't
the brute respect the silence? The wind stirred uneasily, doors banged
about me. The uncanny spell of the place overcame my last shred of
courage--my feet started down the road of their own volition. I found
myself breathing hard, running fast. I jerked to a standstill,
laughing sheepishly at my fears--ashamed. Then I faced about,
determined to stay.

Something touched my elbows. I sprang ten feet and whirled, on the
defensive. A dark, horned form stood before me. My muscles tensed for
another sprint, I held my breath. The thing moved; I made out the
outline of a burro. I breathed again, relieved. Here at last was
something alive, something natural in this desert of silence. I wished
the animal would bray, but he only nosed my pockets suggestively