The sun, the damned sun! Beating him like a club into the sand. Why had he come to this miserable damned desert to start with? He had been lured here, like so many others, with the false promise of wealth. He knew if he didn't find Warm Springs soon, he would perish. The desert constantly lied to him, showing him the promise of an oasis and then snatching that promise away into the super heated air.
In the distance he thought he saw some mountains. Probably another mirage, he thought, but he trudged toward them because he had nowhere else to go. He looked for anything that might offer some shade. There was nothing but barren sand for as far as he could see. He walked slowly toward the mountains. The sun was getting low on the horizon. It cast a shadow where he thought the mountains were. They must be real!
But in the desert, there is no way to estimate distance. They might one mile away or a hundred. He knew the sun wouldn't last much longer. He also knew that the desert gets cold at night. He needed to rest badly. He was almost out of energy when he saw the faint glimmer of light in the distance. It was probably another mirage, but he struck off straight toward it. Maybe if he walked all night, he could reach it.
Five hours later he still hadn't reached the light but it did appear to be closer. He was completely exhausted and threw down his pack, sinking to his knees to rest. Despite his best efforts, sleep overwhelmed him.
He woke up just as the first faint hint of daylight threatened the eastern sky. The faint light was still there. He drank half of his remaining water. Today his water ration would run out. Then he would die. He walked toward the light.
A small collection of shacks appeared out of the desert sands. The light was coming from the nearest shack. He couldn't believe his luck! He staggered up to the shack and was met by an old man with a long grey beard.
"Howdy stranger," the old man said. "Say, you look like you could use a meal and something to drink."
"I'm mighty grateful for your hospitality," the desert rat thanked him as he took a long drink of cool water. "What is this place?"
"This here's Tonopah. Where were you headed?"
"I don't rightly know. I got turned around out in the desert. My mules died and I was left afoot. I'm damned near out of water. I figured I'd die sometime tonight or tomorrow for sure."
"Well, I can fix you up with some water and a meal, but I ain't got no mules."
"I thought I saw some mountains off in the distance. Are they really there or are they a mirage?"
"They ain't no mirage. They're real alright but they're a long ways off. At lease three days walking."
"Is there anything there worth walking for?"
"I don't know, I've never been there."
"Do you mind if I bunk in here for a day to get my strength back?"
"No, I'm glad for the company. The supply wagon only gets out here once a month if I'm lucky. If you want to catch a ride on it, it'll be here in five more days. You're welcome to stay until then."
"What's your name?" he asked the old man.
"I'm Pete Travers. Folks call me Desert Pete. I've been out here for three years. Who are you?"
"My name's Jonathan Deever. I've been prospecting for ten years out and about here. I guess I'll never strike it rich, but I've gotta keep tryin'"
It was a lot cooler in the shack than out in the sun. Jon was so thankful for the rest he received. He made up his mind to get on the supply wagon and join the gold rush near Sacramento.
It took six days for the supply wagon to show up. Jon negotiated with the wagon captain and they settled on a deal. With a friendly wave to the old man, Jon rode out of Tonopah.
It took a full day for the wagon to reach the hills. Jon got off the wagon as soon as he saw green grass. The wagon took off and Jon marched resolutely into the west. The next day he found a creek. He refilled his canteens and walked down the hillside beside the bubbling water. Two days later he found the lake. He stripped off his clothes and dived into the cold water. He washed his clothes and enjoyed his first shave in eight months.
He was swimming across the lake when he saw the girl. She was standing on a rock watching him swim. All she had on were her knickers. She was barefoot.
Jon surmised that he was in her swimming hole. "Come on in," he yelled.
She jumped off the rock and scampered over the closest hill.
He made a temporary camp in a glade beside the lake. The next day the girl appeared again. He watched as she carefully surveyed the lake and surrounding hills. She didn't spot his camp. She peeled off her knickers and dived into the lake. Jon watched her swimming nude for a long time. She got out of the water, picked up her clothes and washed them in the lake. She laid beside them on the big rock, drying in the sun. When she sat up, she saw Jon watching her. He heard her yelp, "Oh my!" She pulled on her clothes and again disappeared over the hill.
I wonder where she goes, Jon thought. He gave her an hour head start and then followed her over the hill. Jon was an expert tracker, so it was easy for him to follow her trail through the grass. He followed her tracks for a couple of miles and then he spotted the cabin. He crept down to the edge of the woods and watched closely.
The girl was carrying a load of firewood into the little hut. He heard a man yelling something, but he couldn't make it out. The girl appeared at the doorway and the man was right behind her. He had a whip in his hand. As she ran for the woodpile, he cracked the whip across her back. She stumbled and fell. The man was on her in a trice. She lay whimpering as he beat her. Finally he went back inside as she dragged herself to her feet and set out again for the wood pile.
Jon crept closer to the hovel as she toted another load of wood inside.
The man yelled in an obviously drunk voice, "Get me some supper, you lazy slut! I'm hungry."
"Yes daddy," the girl whined.
Jon waited until dark and quietly walked down next to the cabin. He heard the drunk say, "Get them clothes off and get over here. I want some pussy!"
The girl whimpered, "Yes daddy."
Jon could here the grunting sounds from within as the father took the daughter. She was crying and screaming. By that time Jon was thoroughly pissed off. Nobody should treat a woman that way, much less a daughter. Jon resolved to do something about it. He walked back to his camp.
He waited in the brush along the trail the next day. It wasn't long until the girl came walking quietly up the trail. When she got just past him, him grabbed her from behind. She struggled hard, but Jon had muscles hardened from years of hard work. After a while the girl calmed down enough for him to talk to her.
"I'm not gonna hurt you. I want to help you."
"Nobody can help me," she squeaked. "Just leave me alone!"
"You know that sooner or later that drunken son of a bitch is going to kill you."
"He has the right. He's my daddy. A daddy can do anything to his daughter. It's the law!"
"Who told you that nonsense? Daddies are supposed to protect their daughters, not beat them and rape them. Your daddy is a liar, a drunk and a criminal."
"No, no daddy has the right. He told me so."
She had stopped struggling now, realizing that he wasn't going to hurt her. He sat her in the grass and turned her loose. She started to jump and run but something made her stop.
"What do you care anyway? You don't even know me or my daddy."
"I'm just a man who doesn't like to see women abused. Especially pretty young daughters. What your daddy is doing is against every law in every state in the Union. I can help you if you want. You don't have to live like a dog anymore."
"But what can you do? If you tell daddy to stop, he'll wait until you're gone and then he'll beat me to death."
"Well, there are ways of talking to guys like that. You go back to the cabin and I'll be there in a little bit."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna rescue you from the plight you're in. Get going!"
