Whipping up the mules, and keeping their necks well into their collars, we dashed across in safety. Immediately the wagon was unloaded, I turned it around and crossed alone. The remainder of the load was put in, with our two men, and, one of them seated by my side with the whip, we "yelled"ourselves across again. Our wagon was stopped in a sandy drift, our grub box thrown out, a fire lighted, and with the impending storm in close proximity, we hurriedly cooked and ate our evening meal. No sooner was my plate cleared than, taking my roll of blankets, I wearily threw them down not more than ten feet from the wagon, too utterly "played out" to seek shelter in the cliff beyond, where a number of cave-like shelves afforded good level sleeping places, secure from the storm. As I unrolled my blankets, I called to the men to be sure to put out the camp fire and place the sugar sack, etc., in the grub box and close the lid. I was no sooner stretched out than I was sound asleep.
A Storm at Night. One of my companions insisted upon unrolling his blankets close to me, in spite of the fact that a terrible storm might break over us at any time. Poor fellow! He had scarcely gotten to sleep when a frightful gust of wind swept down upon us. Awakened with the noise, my eye caught a glimpse of the flaming brands from the fire being tossed into the wagon, and I rushed to the rescue. In a fierce wind, with a wagon and its contents dried out by the fierce Arizona sun, I knew there was not a moment to lose.
Fortunately, I had left a pail, of water close by, and with this I doused out not only the flames in the wagon, but the remnant of the camp fire. It was pitch dark by now. All at once, with a light that was blinding in its intensity, and with a terrible clap of thunder, the storm burst upon us. It was, without any question, one of the fiercest short storms, accompanied with the most vivid lightning, I have ever seen. The darkness was so black, that, like that of Egypt during the plague, it seemed almost as if it might be felt. With a suddenness that was awe-inspiring, it became light as noonday. The lightning was of a brilliant, violet tint, and shone with fervent intensity. And it was not merely a few flashes. It came down in millions of jagged streaks, completely filling the heavens to the horizon in every direction.
A Frightened Traveler. In one of these blinding flashes, I caught sight of my neighbor. His face wore an expression of anguish. In his dread he had arisen, and had tried to pick up his clothes and blankets, in the hope of reaching shelter. In one of the sudden lulls of the tempest, I heard him talking to himself: "Shall I ever live through this awful night? Can Iget to those cliffs? Why doesn't some one come to help me? I'm going to die. There's no help for it!" Taking advantage of the next flash, I picked up my blankets and carried them to the cliffs; then returned to him, gathered up his belongings, and urged him to follow me. As soon as he was secure, I spread out my sopping wet blankets in the first space I could find. Wet through as I was, I rolled myself up in my wetter blankets, and soon should have been asleep, had it not been for the moanings of the man Ihad rescued. He wished he hadn't come; he was sure the exposure would kill him, and he wondered why people were such fools as to take unnecessary trips. Just then the storm waters from above, seeking their accustomed drainage channels, found their way down to a rock which overhung my sleeping-place as a rude spout, and began to pour upon me in bucketfuls. Yet I vowed I would never admit that my sleep was in the slightest disturbed.
So I turned over in my watery bed, and kept up the play until morning came, while the angry man complained the entire time. Funny? In spite of my own misery, it was funny enough to make a burro laugh.
