“IfIcouldonlySEEsomething——somebody，“hemuttered，asheheldthecockedrifleready，“I——I’dshowhim。“
Hereturnedtocamp。Cribbenswassnoring。Theburrohadcomedowntothestreamforitsmorningdrink。Themulewasawakeandbrowsing。McTeaguestoodirresolutelybythecoldashesofthecamp-fire，lookingfromsidetosidewithallthesuspicionandwarinessofatrackedstag。Strongerandstrongergrewthestrangeimpulse。ItseemedtohimthatonthenextinstantheMUSTperforcewheelsharplyeastwardandrushawayheadlonginaclumsy，lumberinggallop。Hefoughtagainstitwithalltheferociousobstinacyofhissimplebrutenature。
“Go，andleavethemine？Goandleaveamilliondollars？No，NO，Iwon’tgo。No，I’llstay。Ah，“heexclaimed，underhisbreath，withashakeofhishugehead，likeanexasperatedandharassedbrute，“ah，showyourself，willyou？“Hebroughttherifletohisshoulderandcoveredpointafterpointalongtherangeofhillstothewest。
“Comeon，showyourself。Comeonalittle，allofyou。I
ain’tafraidofyou；butdon’tskulkthisway。Youain’tgoingtodrivemeawayfrommymine。I’mgoingtostay。“
Anhourpassed。Thentwo。Thestarswinkedout，andthedawnwhitened。Theairbecamewarmer。Thewholeeast，cleanofclouds，flamedopalescentfromhorizontozenith，crimsonatthebase，wheretheearthblackenedagainstit；
atthetopfadingfrompinktopaleyellow，togreen，tolightblue，totheturquoiseiridescenceofthedesertsky。
Thelong，thinshadowsoftheearlyhoursdrewbackwardlikerecedingserpents，thensuddenlythesunlookedovertheshoulderoftheworld，anditwasday。
AtthatmomentMcTeaguewasalreadyeightmilesawayfromthecamp，goingsteadilyeastward。HewasdescendingthelowestspursofthePanaminthills，followinganoldandfaintcattletrail。Beforehimhedrovehismule，ladenwithblankets，provisionsforsixdays，Cribben’srifle，andacanteenfullofwater。Securelyboundtothepommelofthesaddlewasthecanvassackwithitspreciousfivethousanddollars，allintwenty-dollargoldpieces。ButstrangeenoughinthathorridwasteofsandandsagewastheobjectthatMcTeaguehimselfpersistentlycarried——thecanaryinitscage，aboutwhichhehadcarefullywrappedacoupleofoldflour-bags。
Ataboutfiveo’clockthatmorningMcTeaguehadcrossedseveraltrailswhichseemedtobeconverging，and，guessingthattheyledtoawaterhole，hadfollowedoneofthemandhadbroughtupatasortofsmallsundriedsinkwhichneverthelesscontainedalittlewateratthebottom。Hehadwateredthemulehere，refilledthecanteen，anddrankdeephimself。Hehadalsodampenedtheoldflour-sacksaroundthebirdcagetoprotectthelittlecanaryasfaraspossiblefromtheheatthatheknewwouldincreasenowwitheveryhour。Hehadmadereadytogoforwardagain，buthadpausedirresoluteagain，hesitatingforthelasttime。
“I’mafool，“hegrowled，scowlingbackattherangebehindhim。“I’mafool。What’sthematterwithme？I’mjustwalkingrightawayfromamilliondollars。Iknowit’sthere。No，byGod！“heexclaimed，savagely，“Iain’tgoingtodoit。I’mgoingback。Ican’tleaveaminelikethat。“
Hehadwheeledthemuleabout，andhadstartedtoreturnonhistracks，grindinghisteethfiercely，inclininghisheadforwardasthoughbuttingagainstawindthatwouldbeathimback。“Goon，goon，“hecried，sometimesaddressingthemule，sometimeshimself。“Goon，goback，goback。I
WILLgoback。“Itwasasthoughhewereclimbingahillthatgrewsteeperwitheverystride。Thestrangeimpellinginstinctfoughthisadvanceyardbyyard。Bydegreesthedentist’sstepsgrewslower；hestopped，wentforwardagaincautiously，almostfeelinghisway，likesomeoneapproachingapitinthedarkness。Hestoppedagain，hesitating，gnashinghisteeth，clinchinghisfistswithblindfury。
Suddenlyheturnedthemuleabout，andoncemoresethisfacetotheeastward。
“Ican’t，“hecriedaloudtothedesert；“Ican’t，Ican’t。
It’sstrongerthanIam。ICAN’Tgoback。Hurrynow，hurry，hurry，hurry。“
Hehastenedonfurtively，hisheadandshouldersbent。Attimesonecouldalmostsayhecrouchedashepushedforwardwithlongstrides；nowandthenheevenlookedoverhisshoulder。Sweatrolledfromhim，helosthishat，andthemattedmaneofthickyellowhairsweptoverhisforeheadandshadedhissmall，twinklingeyes。Attimes，withavague，nearlyautomaticgesture，hereachedhishandforward，thefingersprehensile，anddirectedtowardsthehorizon，asifhewouldclutchitanddrawitnearer；andatintervalshemuttered，“Hurry，hurry，hurryon，hurryon。“FornowatlastMcTeaguewasafraid。
Hisplanswereuncertain。HerememberedwhatCribbenshadsaidabouttheArmagosaMountainsinthecountryontheothersideofDeathValley。Itwasallhelltogetintothatcountry，Cribbenshadsaid，andnotmanymenwentthere，becauseoftheterriblevalleyofalkalithatbarredtheway，ahorriblevastsinkofwhitesandandsaltbeloweventhesealevel，thedrybed，nodoubt，ofsomeprehistoriclake。ButMcTeagueresolvedtomakeacircuitofthevalley，keepingtothesouth，untilheshouldstriketheArmagosaRiver。Hewouldmakeacircuitofthevalleyandcomeupontheotherside。HewouldgetintothatcountryaroundGoldMountainintheArmagosahills，barredofffromtheworldbytheleaguesofthered-hotalkaliofDeathValley。“They“wouldhardlyreachhimthere。HewouldstayatGoldMountaintwoorthreemonths，andthenworkhiswaydownintoMexico。
McTeaguetrampedsteadilyforward，stilldescendingthelowerirregularitiesofthePanamintRange。Bynineo’clocktheslopeflattenedoutabruptly；thehillswerebehindhim；
beforehim，totheeast，allwaslevel。Hehadreachedtheregionwhereeventhesandandsage-brushbegintodwindle，givingplacetowhite，powderedalkali。Thetrailswerenumerous，butoldandfaint；andtheyhadbeenmadebycattle，notbymen。Theyledinalldirectionsbutone——
north，south，andwest；butnotone，howeverfaint，struckouttowardsthevalley。
“IfIkeepalongtheedgeofthehillswherethesetrailsare，“mutteredthedentist，“Ioughttofindwaterupinthearroyosfromtimetotime。“
Atonceheutteredanexclamation。Themulehadbeguntosquealandlashoutwithalternatehoofs，hiseyesrolling，hisearsflattened。Heranafewsteps，halted，andsquealedagain。Then，suddenlywheelingatrightangles，setoffonajogtrottothenorth，squealingandkickingfromtimetotime。McTeagueranafterhimshoutingandswearing，butforalongtimethemulewouldnotallowhimselftobecaught。Heseemedmorebewilderedthanfrightened。
“He’seatunsomeofthatloco-weedthatCribbensspokeabout，“pantedMcTeague。“Whoa，there；steady，you。“Atlengththemulestoppedofhisownaccord，andseemedtocometohissensesagain。McTeaguecameupandtookthebridlerein，speakingtohimandrubbinghisnose。
“There，there，what’sthematterwithyou？“Themulewasdocileagain。McTeaguewashedhismouthandsetforwardoncemore。
Thedaywasmagnificent。Fromhorizontohorizonwasonevastspanofblue，whiteningasitdippedearthward。Milesuponmilestotheeastandsoutheastthedesertunrolleditself，white，naked，inhospitable，palpitatingandshimmeringunderthesun，unbrokenbysomuchasarockorcactusstump。Inthedistanceitassumedallmanneroffaintcolors，pink，purple，andpaleorange。TothewestrosethePanamintRange，sparselysprinkledwithgraysage-
brush；heretheearthsandsandswereyellow，ochre，andrich，deepred，thehollowsandcanyonspickedoutwithintenseblueshadows。Itseemedstrangethatsuchbarrennesscouldexhibitthisradianceofcolor，butnothingcouldhavebeenmorebeautifulthanthedeepredofthehigherbluffsandridges，seamedwithpurpleshadows，standingsharplyoutagainstthepale-bluewhitenessofthehorizon。
Bynineo’clockthesunstoodhighinthesky。Theheatwasintense；theatmospherewasthickandheavywithit。
McTeaguegaspedforbreathandwipedthebeadsofperspirationfromhisforehead，hischeeks，andhisneck。
Everyinchandporeofhisskinwastinglingandprickingunderthemercilesslashofthesun’srays。
“Ifitgetsmuchhotter，“hemuttered，withalongbreath，“ifitgetsmuchhotter，I——Idon’know——“Hewaggedhisheadandwipedthesweatfromhiseyelids，whereitwasrunningliketears。
Thesunrosehigher；hourbyhour，asthedentisttrampedsteadilyon，theheatincreased。Thebakeddrysandcrackledintoinnumerabletinyflakesunderhisfeet。Thetwigsofthesage-brushsnappedlikebrittlepipestemsashepushedthroughthem。Itgrewhotter。Ateleventheearthwaslikethesurfaceofafurnace；theair，asMcTeaguebreatheditin，washottohislipsandtheroofofhismouth。Thesunwasadiskofmoltenbrassswimmingintheburnt-outblueofthesky。McTeaguestrippedoffhiswoollenshirt，andevenunbuttonedhisflannelundershirt，tyingahandkerchieflooselyabouthisneck。
“Lord！“heexclaimed。“IneverknewitCOULDgetashotasthis。“
Theheatgrewsteadilyfiercer；alldistantobjectswerevisiblyshimmeringandpalpitatingunderit。Atnoonamirageappearedonthehillstothenorthwest。McTeaguehaltedthemule，anddrankfromthetepidwaterinthecanteen，dampeningthesackaroundthecanary’scage。Assoonasheceasedhistrampandthenoiseofhiscrunching，grindingfootstepsdiedaway，thesilence，vast，illimitable，enfoldedhimlikeanimmeasurabletide。Fromallthatgiganticlandscape，thatcolossalreachofbakingsand，therearosenotasinglesound。Notatwigrattled，notaninsecthummed，notabirdorbeastinvadedthathugesolitudewithcallorcry。Everythingasfarastheeyecouldreach，tonorth，tosouth，toeast，andwest，layinert，absolutelyquietandmovelessundertheremorselessscourgeofthenoonsun。Theveryshadowsshrankaway，hidingundersage-bushes，retreatingtothefarthestnooksandcrevicesinthecanyonsofthehills。Alltheworldwasonegiganticblindingglare，silent，motionless。“Ifitgetsmuchhotter，“murmuredthedentistagain，movinghisheadfromsidetoside，“ifitgetsmuchhotter，Idon’knowwhatI’lldo。“
Steadilytheheatincreased。Atthreeo’clockitwasevenmoreterriblethanithadbeenatnoon。
“Ain’titEVERgoingtoletup？“groanedthedentist，rollinghiseyesattheskyofhotbluebrass。Then，ashespoke，thestillnesswasabruptlystabbedthroughandthroughbyashrillsoundthatseemedtocomefromallsidesatonce。Itceased；then，asMcTeaguetookanotherforwardstep，beganagainwiththesuddennessofablow，shriller，nearerathand，ahideous，prolongednotethatbroughtbothmanandmuletoaninstanthalt。
“IknowwhatTHATis，“exclaimedthedentist。Hiseyessearchedthegroundswiftlyuntilhesawwhatheexpectedheshouldsee——theroundthickcoil，theslowlywavingclover-