Chapter　IV
  There　came　a　morning　when　the　sun　shone　angry　and　red　through　a　dull；　smoky　haze。
  〃We're　in　for　sandstorms；〃　said　Cameron。
  They　had　scarcely　covered　a　mile　when　a　desert…wide；　moaning；　yellow　wall　of　flying　sand　swooped　down　upon　them。　　Seeking　shelter　in　the　lee　of　a　rock；　they　waited；　hoping　the　storm　was　only　a　squall；　such　as　frequently　whipped　across　the　open　places。　　The　moan　increased　to　a　roar；　and　the　dull　red　slowly　dimmed；　to　disappear　in　the　yellow　pall；　and　the　air　grew　thick　and　dark。　　Warren　slipped　the　packs　from　the　burros。　　Cameron　feared　the　sandstorms　had　arrived　some　weeks　ahead　of　their　usual　season。
  The　men　covered　their　heads　and　patiently　waited。　　The　long　hours　dragged；　and　the　storm　increased　in　fury。　　Cameron　and　Warren　wet　scarfs　with　water　from　their　canteens；　and　bound　them　round　their　faces；　and　then　covered　their　heads。　　The　steady；　hollow　bellow　of　flying　sand　went　on。　　It　flew　so　thickly　that　enough　sifted　down　under　the　shelving　rock　to　weight　the　blankets　and　almost　bury　the　men。　　They　were　frequently　compelled　to　shake　off　the　sand　to　keep　from　being　borne　to　the　ground。　　And　it　was　necessary　to　keep　digging　out　the　packs。　　The　floor　of　their　shelter　gradually　rose　higher　and　higher。　　they　tried　to　eat；　and　seemed　to　be　grinding　only　sand　between　their　teeth。　　They　lost　the　count　of　time。　They　dared　not　sleep；　for　that　would　have　meant　being　buried　alive。　The　could　only　crouch　close　to　the　leaning　rock；　shake　off　the　sand；　blindly　dig　out　their　packs；　and　every　moment　gasp　and　cough　and　choke　to　fight　suffocation。
  The　storm　finally　blew　itself　out。　　It　let　the　prospectors　heavy　and　stupid　for　want　of　sleep。　　Their　burros　had　wandered　away；　or　had　been　buried　in　the　sand。　　Far　as　eye　could　reach　the　desert　had　marvelously　changed；　it　was　now　a　rippling　sea　of　sand　dunes。　Away　to　the　north　rose　the　peak　that　was　their　only　guiding　mark。　They　headed　toward　it；　carrying　a　shovel　and　part　of　their　packs。
  At　noon　the　peak　vanished　in　the　shimmering　glare　of　the　desert。　The　prospectors　pushed　on；　guided　by　the　sun。　　In　every　wash　they　tried　for　water。　　With　the　forked　peach　branch　in　his　hands　Warren　always　succeeded　in　locating　water。　　They　dug；　but　it　lay　too　deep。　　At　length；　spent　and　sore；　they　fell　and　slept　through　that　night　and　part　of　the　next　day。　　Then　they　succeeded　in　getting　water；　and　quenched　their　thirst；　and　filled　the　canteens；　and　cooked　a　meal。
  The　burning　day　found　them　in　an　interminably　wide　plain；　where　there　was　no　shelter　from　the　fierce　sun。　The　men　were　exceedingly　careful　with　their　water；　though　there　was　absolute　necessity　of　drinking　a　little　every　hour。　　Late　in　the　afternoon　they　came　to　a　canyon　that　they　believed　was　the　lower　end　of　the　one　in　which　they　had　last　found　water。　　For　hours　they　traveled　toward　its　head；　and；　long　after　night　had　set；　found　what　they　sought。　Yielding　to　exhaustion；　they　slept；　and　next　day　were　loath　to　leave　the　waterhole。　　Cool　night　spurred　them　on　with　canteens　full　and　renewed　strength。
  Morning　told　Cameron　that　they　had　turned　back　miles　into　the　desert；　and　it　was　desert　new　to　him。　　The　red　sun；　the　increasing　heat；　and　especially　the　variety　and　large　size　of　the　cactus　plants　warned　Cameron　that　he　had　descended　to　a　lower　level。　　Mountain　peaks　loomed　on　all　sides；　some　hear；　others　distant；　and　one；　a　blue　spur；　splitting　the　glaring　sky　far　to　the　north；　Cameron　thought　he　recognized　as　a　landmark。　　The　ascent　toward　it　was　heartbreaking；　not　in　steepness；　but　in　its　league…and　league…long　monotonous　rise。　　Cameron　knew　there　was　only　one　hopeto　make　the　water　hold　out　and　never　stop　to　rest。　　Warren　began　to　weaken。　Often　he　had　to　halt。　　The　burning　white　day　passed；　and　likewise　the　night；　with　its　white　stars　shining　so　pitilessly　cold　and　bright。
  Cameron　measured　the　water　in　his　canteen　by　its　weight。　　Evaporation　by　heat　consumed　as　much　as　he　drank。　　During　one　of　the　rests；　when　he　had　wetted　his　parched　mouth　and　throat；　he　found　opportunity　to　pour　a　little　water　from　his　canteen　into　Warren's。
  At　first　Cameron　had　curbed　his　restless　activity　to　accommodate　the　pace　of　his　elder　comrade。　　but　now　he　felt　that　he　was　losing　something　of　his　instinctive　and　passionate　zeal　to　get　out　of　the　desert。　　The　thought　of　water　came　to　occupy　his　mind。　　He　began　to　imagine　that　his　last　little　store　of　water　did　not　appreciably　diminish。　　He　knew　he　was　not　quite　right　in　his　mind　regarding　water；　nevertheless；　he　felt　this　to　be　more　of　fact　than　fancy；　and　he　began　to　ponder。
  When　next　they　rested　he　pretended　to　be　in　a　kind　of　stupor；　but　he　covertly　watched　Warren。　　The　man　appeared　far　gone；　yet　he　had　cunning。　　He　cautiously　took　up　Cameron's　canteen　and　poured　water　into　it　from　his　own。
  This　troubled　Cameron。　　The　old　irritation　at　not　being　able　to　thwart　Warren　returned　to　him。　　Cameron　reflected；　and　concluded　that　he　had　been　unwise　not　to　expect　this　very　thing。　　Then；　as　his　comrade　dropped　into　weary　rest；　he　lifted　both　canteens。　　If　there　were　any　water　in　Warren's；　it　was　only　very　little。　　Both　men　had　been　enduring　the　terrible　desert　thirst；　concealing　it；　each　giving　his　water　to　the　other；　and　the　sacrifice　had　been　useless。
  Instead　of　ministering　to　the　parched　throats　of　one　or　both；　the　water　had　evaporated。　　When　Cameron　made　sure　of　this；　he　took　one　more　drink；　the　last；　and　poured　the　little　water　left　into　Warren's　canteen。　　He　threw　his　own　away。
  Soon　afterward　Warren　discovered　the　loss。
  〃Where's　your　canteen？〃　he　asked。
  〃The　heat　was　getting　my　water；　so　I　drank　what　was　left。〃
  〃My　son！〃　said　Warren。
  The　day　opened　for　them　in　a　red　and　green　hell　of　rock　and　cactus。　Like　a　flame　the　sun　scorched　and　peeled　their　faces。　　Warren　went　blind　from　the　glare；　and　Cameron　had　to　lead　him。　　At　last　Warren　plunged　down；　exhausted；　in　the　shade　of　a　ledge。
  Cameron　rested　and　waited；　hopeless；　with　hot；　weary　eyes　gazing　down　from　the　height　where　he　sat。　　the　ledge　was　the　top　step　of　a　ragged　gigantic　stairway。　　Below　stretched　a　sad；　austere；　and　lonely　valley。　　A　dim；　wide　streak；　lighter　than　the　bordering　gray；　wound　down　the　valley　floor。　　Once　a　river　had　flowed　there；　leaving　only　a　forlorn　trace　down　the　winding　floor　of　this　forlorn　valley。
  Movement　on　the　part　of　Warren　attracted　Cameron's　attention。　Evidently　the　old　prospector　had　recovered　his　sight　and　some　of　his　strength。　　for　he　had　arisen；　and　now　began　to　walk　along　the　arroyo　bed　with　his　forked　peach　branch　held　before　him。　　He　had　clung　to　the　precious　bit　of　wood。　　Cameron　considered　the　prospect　for　water　hopeless；　because　he　saw　that　the　arroyo　had　once　been　a　canyon；　and　had　been　filled　with　sands　by　desert　winds。　　Warren；　however；　stopped　in　a　deep　pit；　and；　cutting　his　canteen　in　half；　began　to　use　one　side　of　it　as　a　scoop。　　He　scooped　out　a　wide　hollow；　so　wide　that　Cameron　was　certain　he　had　gone　crazy。　　Cameron　gently　urged　him　to　stop；　and　then　forcibly　tried　to　make　him。　But　these　efforts　were　futile。　　Warren　worked　with　slow；　ceaseless；　methodical　movement。　　He　toiled　for　what　seemed　hours。　　Cameron；　seeing　the　darkening；　dampening　sand；　realized　a　wonderful　possibility　of　water；　and　he　plunged　into　the　pit　with　the　other　half　of　the　canteen。　　Then　both　men　toiled；　round　and　round　the　wide　hole；　down　deeper　and　deeper。　　The　sand　grew　moist；　then　wet。　　At　the　bottom　of　the　deep　pit　the　sand　coarsened；　gave　place　to　gravel。　Finally　water　welled　in；　a　stronger　volume　than　Cameron　ever　remembered　finding　on　the　desert。　　It　would　soon　fill　the　hole　and　run　over。　　He　marveled　at　the　circumstance。　　The　time　was　near　the　end　of　the　dry　season。　　Perhaps　an　underground　stream　flowed　from　the　range　behind　down　to　the　valley　floor；　and　at　this　point　came　near　to　the　surface。　　Cameron　had　heard　of　such　desert　miracles。
  The　finding　of　water　revived　Cameron's　flagging　hopes。　　But　they　were　short…lived。　　Warren　had　spend　himself　utterly。
  〃I'm　done。　　Don't　linger；〃　he　whispered。　　〃My　son；　gogo！〃
  Then　he　fell。　　Cameron　dragged　him　out　of　the　sand　pit　to　a　sheltered　place　under　the　ledge。　　While　sitting　beside　the　failing　man　Cameron　discovered　painted　images　on　the　wall。　　Often　in　the　desert　he　had　found　these　evidences　of　a　prehistoric　people。　　Then；　from　long　habit；　he　picked　up　a　piece　of　rock　and　examined　it。　Its　weight　made　him　closely　scrutinize　it。　　The　color　was　a　peculiar　black。　　He　scraped　through　the　black　rust　to　find　a　piece　of　gold。　　Around　him　lay　scattered　heaps　of　black　pebbles　and　bits　of　black；　weathered　rock　and　pieces　of　broken　ledge；　and　they　showed　gold。
  〃Warren！　　Look！　　See　it！　　Feel　it！　　Gold！〃
  But　Warren　had　never　cared；　and　now　he　was　too　blind　to　see。
  〃Gogo！〃　he　whispered。
  Cameron　gazed　down　the　gray　reaches　of　the　forlorn　valley；　and　something　within　him　that　was　neither　intelligence　nor　emotionsomething　inscrutably　strangeimpelled　him　to　promise。
  The　Cameron　built　up　stone　monuments　to　mark　his　gold　strike。　　That　done；　he　tarried　beside　the　unconscious　Warren。　　Moments　passedgrew　into　hours。　　Cameron　still　had　strength　left　to　make　an　effort　to　get　out　of　the　desert。　　But　that　same　inscrutable　somethin