Right
below me I made out a faint glimmer of white earth in the
starlight. Somehow it reminded me of a little trail I used to
know under a big rock back in Texas.
"Here's a trail," I thought, more than half loco; "I'll follow
it!"
At least that's what half of me thought. The other half was
sensible, and knew better, but it seemed to be kind of standing
to one side, a little scornful, watching the performance. So I
slid and slipped down to the strip of white earth, and, sure
enough, it was a trail. At that the loco half of me gave the
sensible part the laugh. I followed the path twenty feet and
came to a dark hollow under the rock, and in it a round pool of
water about a foot across. They say a man kills himself drinking
too much, after starving for water. That may be, but it didn't
kill me, and I sucked up all I could hold. Perhaps the fishhook
cactus had helped. Well, sir, it was surprising how that drink
brought me around. A minute before I'd been on the edge of going
plumb loco, and here I was as clear-headed as a lawyer.
I hunted up Denton and Schwartz. They drank, themselves full,
too. Then we rested. It was mighty hard to leave that spring--
Oh, we had to do it.
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