He stood up, setting his lips. "Come," he said. "We gain nothing by
sitting here, and we are both fresh; we can walk many leagues before
night."
"Do you know which way to go?" asked Adan.
Roldan swept the horizon with his eyes. The buttes they had passed had
displaced the solitary landmark of the morning. There was not a hoof-
beat on the hard split ground. Roldan shrugged his shoulders.
"We can at least follow the sun. Los Angeles must be due west. Come."
The sun was past the zenith and sloping to the west. The boys turned
their backs upon it and trudged on, only pausing once for a half-hour to
divide the meagre remains of their store. Evening came; the sun leaned
his elbows on the horizon in front of them, leered at the contracted
visages and blinking eyes resolutely facing him, then slid leisurely
down; and night came suddenly. The boys flung themselves on the ground
and slept.
They awoke consumed with hunger and thirst. Their mouths and nostrils
were coated with the fine irritating dust of the desert, scarcely
visible but always felt. But their smarting eyes were greeted by a
refreshing sight: not a half-league before them, directly in their
course, was a lake, a lake as blue as the metallic sky above, and
lightly fringed with palms and orange-trees.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209