He　writhed　in　the　struggle　of　desperation；　foaming　blasphemies。
  The　uncouth　bundle　rolled　here　and　there。　　But　inexorably　the
  other；　from　the　advantage　of　his　position；　drew　the　thongs
  tighter。
  And　then；　all　at　once；　from　vituperation　the　bronco…buster　fell
  to　pleading；　not　for　life；　but　for　death。
  〃For　God's　sake；　shoot　me！〃　he　cried　from　within　the　smothering
  folds　of　the　rawhide。　　〃If　you　ever　had　a　heart　in　you；　shoot　me！
  Don't　leave　me　here　to　be　crushed　in　this　vise。　　You　wouldn't　do
  that　to　a　yellow　dog。　　An　Injin　wouldn't　do　that；　Buck。　　It's　a
  joke；　isn't　it？　　Don't　go　away　and　leave　me；　Buck。　　I've　done　you
  dirt。　　Cut　my　heart　out；　if　you　want　to；　I　won't　say　a　word；　but
  don't　leave　me　here　for　the　sun〃
  His　voice　was　drowned　in　a　piercing　scream；　as　Estrella　came　to
  herself　and　understood。　　Always　the　rawhide　had　possessed　for　her
  an　occult　fascination　and　repulsion。　　She　had　never　been　able　to
  touch　it　without　a　shudder；　and　yet　she　had　always　been　drawn　to
  experiment　with　it。　　The　terror　of　her　doom　had　now　added　to　it
  for　her　all　the　vague　and　premonitory　terrors　which　heretofore
  she　had　not　understood。
  The　richness　of　the　dawn　had　flowed　to　the　west。　　Day　was　at
  hand。　　Breezes　had　begun　to　play　across　the　desert；　the　wind
  devils　to　raise　their　straight　columns。　　A　first　long　shaft　of
  sunlight　shot　through　a　pass　in　the　Chiricahuas；　trembled　in　the
  dust…moted　air；　and　laid　its　warmth　on　the　rawhide。　　Senor
  Johnson　roused　himself　from　his　gloom　to　speak　his　first　words　of
  the　episode。
  〃There；　damn　you！〃　said　he。　〃I　guess　you'll　be　close　enough
  together　now！〃
  He　turned　away　to　look　for　his　horse。
  CHAPTER　FOURTEEN
  THE　DESERT
  Button　was　a　trusty　of　Senor　Johnson's　private　animals。　　He　was
  never　known　to　leave　his　master　in　the　lurch；　and　so　was
  habitually　allowed　certain　privileges。　　Now；　instead　of　remaining
  exactly　on　the　spot　where　he　was　〃tied　to　the　ground；〃　he　had
  wandered　out　of　the　dry　arroyo　bed　to　the　upper　level　of　the
  plains；　where　he　knew　certain　bunch　grasses　might　be　found。　　Buck
  Johnson　climbed　the　steep　wooded　bank　in　search　of　him。
  The　pony　stood　not　ten　feet　distant。　　At　his　master's　abrupt
  appearance　he　merely　raised　his　head；　a　wisp　of　grass　in　the
  corner　of　his　mouth；　without　attempting　to　move　away。　　Buck
  Johnson　walked　confidently　to　him；　fumbling　in　his　side　pocket
  for　the　piece　of　sugar　with　which　he　habitually　soothed　Button's
  sophisticated　palate。　　His　hand　encountered　Estrella's　letter。
  He　drew　it　out　and　opened　it。
  〃Dear　Buck；〃　it　read；　〃I　am　going　away。　　I　tried　to　be　good；　but
  I　can't。　　It's　too　lonesome　for　me。　I'm　afraid　of　the　horses　and
  the　cattle　and　the　men　and　the　desert。　　I　hate　it　all。　　I　tried
  to　make　you　see　how　I　felt　about　it；　but　you　couldn't　seem　to
  see。　　I　know　you'll　never　forgive　me；　but　I'd　go　crazy　here。　　I'm
  almost　crazy　now。　　I　suppose　you　think　I'm　a　bad　woman；　but　I　am
  not。　　You　won't　believe　that。　　Its'　true　though。　　The　desert
  would　make　anyone　bad。　　I　don't　see　how　you　stand　it。　　You've
  been　good　to　me；　and　I've　really　tried；　but　it's　no　use。　　The
  country　is　awful。　　I　never　ought　to　have　come。　　I'm　sorry　you　are
  going　to　think　me　a　bad　woman；　for　I　like　you　and　admire　you；　but
  nothing；　NOTHING　could　make　me　stay　here　any　longer。〃　　　She
  signed　herself　simply　Estrella　Sands；　her　maiden　name。
  Buck　Johnson　stood　staring　at　the　paper　for　a　much　longer　time
  than　was　necessary　merely　to　absorb　the　meaning　of　the　words。
  His　senses；　sharpened　by　the　stress　of　the　last　sixteen　hours；
  were　trying　mightily　to　cut　to　the　mystery　of　a　change　going　on
  within　himself。　　The　phrases　of　the　letter　were　bald　enough；　yet
  they　conveyed　something　vital　to　his　inner　being。　　He　could　not
  understand　what　it　was。
  Then　abruptly　he　raised　his　eyes。
  Before　him　lay　the　desert；　but　a　desert　suddenly　and　miraculously
  changed；　a　desert　he　had　never　seen　before。　　Mile　after　mile　it
  swept　away　before　him；　hot；　dry；　suffocating；　lifeless。　　The
  sparse　vegetation　was　grey　with　the　alkali　dust。　　The　heat　hung
  choking　in　the　air　like　a　curtain。　　Lizards　sprawled　in　the　sun；
  repulsive。　　A　rattlesnake　dragged　its　loathsome　length　from　under
  a　mesquite。　　The　dried　carcass　of　a　steer；　whose　parchment　skin
  drew　tight　across　its　bones；　rattled　in　the　breeze。　　Here　and
  there　rock　ridges　showed　with　the　obscenity　of　so　many　skeletons；
  exposing　to　the　hard；　cruel　sky　the　earth's　nakedness。　　Thirst；
  delirium；　death；　hovered　palpable　in　the　wind；　dreadful；
  unconquerable；　ghastly。
  The　desert　showed　her　teeth　and　lay　in　wait　like　a　fierce　beast。
  The　little　soul　of　man　shrank　in　terror　before　it。
  Buck　Johnson　stared；　recalling　the　phrases　of　the　letter；
  recalling　the　words　of　his　foreman；　Jed　Parker。　　〃It's　too
  lonesome　for　me；〃　　〃I'm　afraid；〃　　〃I　hate　it　all；〃　　〃I'd　go　crazy
  here；〃　　〃The　desert　would　make　anyone　bad；〃　　〃The　country　is
  awful。〃　　And　the　musing　voice　of　the　old　cattleman；　　〃I　wonder　if
  she'll　like　the　country！〃　　They　reiterated　themselves　over　and
  over；　and　always　as　refrain　his　own　confident　reply；　〃Like　the
  country？　　Sure！　　Why　SHOULDN'T　she？〃
  And　then　he　recalled　the　summer　just　passing；　and　the　woman
  who　had　made　no　fuss。　　Chance　remarks　of　hers　came　back　to　him；
  remarks　whose　meaning　he　had　not　at　the　time　grasped；　but　which
  now　he　saw　were　desperate　appeals　to　his　understanding。　　He　had
  known　his　desert。　　He　had　never　known　hers。
  With　an　exclamation　Buck　Johnson　turned　abruptly　back　to　the
  arroyo。　　Button　followed　him；　mildly　curious；　certain　that　his
  master's　reappearance　meant　a　summons　for　himself。
  Down　the　miniature　cliff　the　man　slid；　confidently；　without
  hesitation；　sure　of　himself。　　His　shoulders　held　squarely；　his
  step　elastic；　his　eye　bright；　he　walked　to　the　fearful；　shapeless
  bundle　now　lying　motionless　on　the　flat　surface　of　the　alkali。
  Brent　Palmer　had　fallen　into　a　grim　silence；　but　Estrella　still
  moaned。　　The　cattleman　drew　his　knife　and　ripped　loose　the　bonds。
  Immediately　the　flaps　of　the　wet　rawhide　fell　apart；　exposing　to
  the　new　daylight　the　two　bound　together。　　Buck　Johnson　leaned
  over　to　touch　the　woman's　shoulder。
  〃Estrella；〃　said　he　gently。
  Her　eyes　came　open　with　a　snap；　and　stared　into　his；　wild　with
  the　surprise　of　his　return。
  〃Estrella；〃　he　repeated；　〃how　old　are　you？〃
  She　gulped　down　a　sob；　unable　to　comprehend　the　purport　of　his
  question。
  〃How　old　are　you；　Estrella？〃　he　repeated　again。
  〃Twenty…one；〃　she　gasped　finally。
  〃Ah！〃　said　he。
  He　stood　for　a　moment　in　deep　thought；　then　began　methodically；
  without　haste；　to　cut　loose　the　thongs　that　bound　the　two
  together。
  When　the　man　and　the　woman　were　quite　freed；　he　stood　for　a
  moment；　the　knife　in　his　hand；　looking　down　on　them。　　Then　he
  swung　himself　into　the　saddle　and　rode　away；　straight　down　the
  narrow　arroyo；　out　beyond　its　lower　widening；　into　the　vast
  plains　the　hither　side　of　the　Chiricahuas。　　The　alkali　dust　was
  snatched　by　the　wind　from　beneath　his　horse's　feet。　　Smaller　and
  smaller　he　dwindled；　rising　and　falling；　rising　and　falling　in
  the　monotonous　cow…pony's　lope。　　The　heat　shimmer　veiled　him　for
  a　moment；　but　he　reappeared。　　A　mirage　concealed　him；　but　he
  emerged　on　the　other　side　of　it。　　Then　suddenly　he　was　gone。　　The
  desert　had　swallowed　him　up。
  End