Chapter VIII

The Wilderness Cabin



The light was considerably farther away than they had at first supposed,
and as they advanced steadily toward it, the nature of the ground rapidly
changed, becoming irregular, and littered with low growing shrubs. In the
darkness they stumbled over outcroppings of rock, and after a fall or two,
were compelled to move forward with extreme caution. But the mysterious
yellow glow continually beckoned, and with new hope animating the hearts
of both men, they staggered on, nerving themselves to the effort, and
following closely along the bank of the stream.

At last they arrived where they could perceive dimly something of the
nature of this unexpected desert oasis.

The light shone forth, piercing the night, through the uncurtained window
of a log cabin, which would otherwise have been completely concealed from
view by a group of low growing cottonwoods. This was all the black,
enshrouding night revealed, and even this was merely made apparent by the
yellow illumination of the window. The cabin stood upon an island, a strip
of sand, partially covered by water, separating it from the north shore on
which they stood. There was no sign of life about the hut, other than the
burning lamp, but that alone was sufficient evidence of occupancy. In
spite of hunger, and urgent need, Keith hesitated, uncertain as to what
they might be called upon to face. Who could be living in this out-of-the-
way spot, in the heart of this inhospitable desert? It would be no cattle
outpost surely, for there was no surrounding grazing land, while surely no