[Astweb-users] k-up of the hideous we

[Mahaley <bed...@ub...>]

Might well happen that the dreary desert would be our burial-place and
the loose sand our winding-sheet. It was not exactly a cheering
prospect, but we made the best of it. The colonel marched at the head of
his men, the doctor at the rear, so that he might assist any unfortunate
stragglers, while Jose and I went forward with the guide. With frequent
halts for rest we ploughed our way through the shifting sand, our eyes
aching and our throats terribly dry. About midnight, as near as I could
judge, the guide stopped irresolutely. "What is it?" asked Jose, in an
excited whisper; "what is wrong?" We could not see the fellow's face,
but he seemed very agitated, and there was a break in his voice as he
answered,-- "I don't know--I am not sure--but I can't be certain that we
are on the right track." The words sounded like a sentence of death, and
I could hardly repress a cry of horror. "Be still!" whispered Jose; "the
men must not know. Stay here a minute while I ask the colonel to halt.
That will give us a little breathing-space." He was soon back, and
taking the guide's arm, he exclaimed,-- "Now come, get your wits about
you, and let us see what can be done. Where do you think we ought to
be?" "I don't know," replied the guide helplessly. "The saints preserve
us, or we are lost!" "Now look here," said Jose sternly: "you are giving
way, and that won't do. Pluck up your courage, man, and remember that
all our lives are in your hands." I think, perhaps, this awful
responsibility had much to do with breaking the guide down. He wrung his
hands and groaned, saying aloud that he had brought us to death. "But we