an oven. And not a cloud to be seen in that fiery sky. It is maddening."
"We must not despair," said the doctor. "These great heats are invariably succeeded by storms in this latitude, and they arise with extreme rapidity. Notwithstanding the wonderful serenity of the sky, a great change may arise within an hour."
"But, after all, something must indicate it," said Kennedy.
"Well," replied the doctor, "it appears to me that the barometer is a trifle lower."
"Heaven grant it, Samuel, for we are now bound to earth like a bird with broken wings."
"With this difference, my dear Dick, that our wings are whole, and I have great hope they will serve us well yet."
Oh for a wind! for wind!" cried Joe, "to waft us to a stream, or a well, and we should want nothing more; our provisions are sufficient, and with water we could remain a month without any trouble. But thirst is an awful thing."
Not only thirst, but there was the incessant contemplation of the desert to fatigue the mind; there was no rising ground, no sand-heap, not even a stone, upon which to fix the eyes. This flatness was irritating, and gave rise to what is denominated "the desert sickness." The impassibility of the blue dryness of the sky and the yellow expanse of the sand was terrifying. In this burning atmosphere the heat seemed to quiver as over a furnace; the mind grew desperate in beholding the fearful calm, and could not get a glimpse of any reason why or when such a state of things would have an end. The immensity was a sort of eternity.
Thus these unfortunate people, deprived of water in this torrid heat, began to experience symptoms of hallucination; their eyes grew hollow, and their vision became troubled.
When night fell the doctor resolved to shake off this feeling by a rapid walk; he wished to explore the sandy plain for several hours—not for exploring, but for walking's sake.
"Come!" said he to his companions; "believe me, it will do you good."
