He hung upon her presence, querulously exacting in his
unfamiliar pain.
Making ready for the start their eyes swept a prospect that showed no
spot of green, and they filled their casks neck high and rolled out
into the dazzling shimmer of the afternoon. The desert was widening,
the hills receding, shrinking away to a crenelated edge that fretted a
horizon drawn as straight as a ruled line. The plain unrolled more
spacious and grimmer, not a growth in sight save sage, not a trickle of
water or leaf murmur, even the mirage had vanished leaving the distance
bare and mottled with a leprous white. At intervals, outstretched like
a pointing finger, the toothed summit of a ridge projected, its base
uplifted in clear, mirrored reflection.
The second half of the day was as unbroken by speech or incident as the
morning. They had nothing to say, as dry of thought as they were
despoiled of energy. The shadows were beginning to lengthen when they
came to a fork in the trail. One branch bore straight westward, the
other slanted toward the south, and both showed signs of recent travel.
Following them to the distance was like following the tracks of
creeping things traced on a sandy shore.
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