I looked straight down on a man who was walking near
the house and appeared no larger than a little doll and his dog
seemed to be the size of a grasshopper, but we heard the dog bark and
heard the cackling of hens quite plainly. On one side of this pit
there was a break in the formation, which made this curious place
accessible by trail.
We had been advised that we would find a natural tank of rain water
in the vicinity of this place and camped there at nightfall. We
turned our stock out, but our herders did not find the promised
water. Our cook reported that there was not a drop of water in camp,
as the spigot of his water tank had been loosened by the roughness of
the road and all the water was lost. Now this would have been a
matter of small consequence if Don Juan had not been taken ill
suddenly. He threw himself on the ground and cried for water. "Agua,
por Dios!" (Water, for God's sake) he cried, "or I shall die." "Why,
Don Juan," I said, "there is no water here. I advise you to wait till
moonrise when the cattle are rested and then leave for the next
watering place, which is Beaver Head, at the foot of the mesa; we
ought to reach there about ten o'clock to-morrow morning. Surely
until then you can endure a little thirst!" "Amiga, I cannot, I am
dying," moaned Don Juan, in great distress.
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