- START -

The sun rose high over the gunslinger and Pips, beating down on them and the hard-baked dirt like a hammer. The gunslinger had been traveling two days, and had entered what was known to the locals as Dante's Desert, a large parching streach of land over two hundred miles long. The gunslinger had the foresight to gather as many canteens as he could get, and filled them with water. For in Dante's Desert, there was only one sorce of water, almost exactally in the the middle of the cooked wastelands.

Pips had been making good time in the semi-rough terrain, though he was unused to this type of work. Still, the gunslinger was grateful that his horse was easily coming into the role of a traveler, a part he himself hadn't played in over five years. He hand't traveled this route before, though. There was a better road that went around the Desert, small towns and watering holes along the way, but the gunslinger didn't want to waste any time going a direction he knew the Man in Black wouldn't take. His wife's murderer would have come from Yuma, then to his house. The gunslinger would do the same. This was a game he played once before.

After all, the gunslinger had tracked and captured the Man in Black ten years ago, when he was a Marshall.

By the middle of the thrid day, most of the canteens were empty. The gunslinger had tried to conserve the life-giving water, but between him and the five-hundred pound horse, water went quickly in the sweltering heat. He opened the third to last, knowing that it wouldn't last even until sundown, the too-warm water tasting bland in his mouth. The gunslinger poured some in a mouthcup for Pips, which the pack horse greedily drank. The gunslinger took his hat off, wiping the sweat off his brow, and donned the hat on again, looking onto the shimmering horizon. Still several hours until dusk, but he hoped that the end of the day's travel would bring him to the only relief that this cursed land had to offer. Sighing, the gunslinger took the now emptied mouthcup off Pips, storing it, saddled himself back on the horse, and clucked him on. The sun continued to beat on them mercilessly.

After the long day journey, near sunset on the thrid day, with all the water in the canteens used up, the gunslinger and Pips reached sight of their salvation, a small Oasis. The ex-lawman smiled, and let out a painful shout out of heat-blistered lips. Spuring the horse on, they reached the Oasis a minute later, with the sun starting to sink onto the horizon. The gunslinger quickly dismounted, leading Pips to the small cool pond that stood out in the baking hell of a Desert. The horse plunged its' head into the water, drinking the water. The gunslinger broke out into a big grin, and followed suit. The water stunk his wounded chin and lips, but the cool water after the hot travel was well worth the pain.

The next day, canteen's filled, bellies filled, the duo resumed their scorching path towards Bisbee, still seven days out, which included the four in the hellish Desert. Traveling after the Oasis became more plesent after their water rations were improved. The land flattened, and the man and horse made better time, and it was the gunslinger's imagination, but it seemed a little cooler, too.

Until the second day after the Oasis, when the fever started taking him.

It started at night, when no matter the cooler temperature of night, the gunslinger still felt as hot as a wood-burning oven. Getting up the next day, he almost blacked-out sattling up on Pips. Drinking more water and running some over his face, the gunslinger continued, stopping in the Desert being a suicidal idea. As the day wore on, and the temperature soared, so did the gunslinger's. The wound under his chin burned hotter than his head, and even the touch of it felt inflamed, as if touched by a branding poker. As the hours passed, the gunslinger's head sunk lower as he became more delerious, more feverish. At night, when Pips stopped himself, he ninnied at his master, who had long ago lost consciousness. Pips, looking around the darkening horizon, saw a small light to the Southeast. It didn't seem too far, and at risk of breaking his own leg, Pips walked through the night, burdened with his sick (possibly dying?) master, towards the light.

Hopefully, towards help.

- END -

12/20/2003

Author's Note: Explainations: Dante's Desert - Named after the Florancian poet, Dante Alighieri, who wrote the Divine Comedy, which includes Hell. Fictious place. Yuma, Arizona - A major territorial city, along the Arizona/California border. Mouthcup - A small strap-on cup that a horse can drink out of during travels when there is no other water source available. Beatrice Oasis - a small grove oasis almost in the center of Dante's Desert. Named after Dante Alighieri's love, Beatrice, who leads him to Paradise. Fictious place. Bisbee, Arizona - The fifth most dangerous Wild West town in American History. One of the Clanton brothers (think the O.K. Corral shootout) eventally found his way here. branding poker - What ranchers use to identify cows and horses as their own, with a burned symbol on an animal's rump. Sometimes used on traitors for the same reason. ...at risk of breaking his own leg... - Riders harld ever traveled at night with a horse, in fear of snapping the horse's leg in a hole or rut, and having to put the horse down.

Posted on 12/21/2003
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