Besides that I did not want them walking into that pool; it was clear, seemed clean.

The dogs finished drinking. I looked at Fritz and wished that he could talk as well as a mule. Did I have anything to write on? No, not a durn thing! If I told him to fetch Dora, Fritz wouId try-but would she come? I had told her flatly to stay in the kraal till I got back. Minerva, I wasn't thinking straight; the heat and no water had got to me. I should have given Dora contingency instructions...because if I stayed away too long and it started to get dark, she was going to come looking for me no matter what.

Hell, I hadn't even fetched a bucket!

In the meantime I at least had sense enough to scoop up and drink a couple of handfuls of water, Gideon style. That seemed to clear my head some.

I dropped the straps of my overalls, got my shirt off, soaked it in water, and gave it to Fritz. "Find Dora! Fetch Dora! Fast!" I think he thought I had gone nuts, but he left, carrying that wet shirt.

Then the first mule showed up-old Buck, praise Allah!- and I ruined a hat.

That hat Zack had fetched as a present for me. It was alleged to be an all-weather hat, so porous it would let air in, yet so water-repellent that it would keep your head dry in a pouring rain. The former allegation was only moderately true; the latter I had not had a chance to test.

Buck snorted and was all for going into the water up to his knees; I stopped him. Then I offered him a hatful of water. Then a second. And a third.

"Enough for now, Buck. Assembly. Water call."

With his throat wet Buck could do it. He let out a trumpeting bellow that was mule talk, not English, and I won't attempt to reproduce it, but it meant "Line up for water" and nothing else. "Fall in to be harnessed" was another soil of bellow.

Then I was trying to cope with a dozen-odd thirst-crazed mules. But between me, Buck, Beulah who was Buck's straw boss, Lady Macbeth who was used to helping Buck too-and a hat that wasn't quite all that waterproof-we made it. I never did learn how seniority was established among mule's, but the mules knew and Buck enforced it and water call always found them queued up in the same order, and heaven help the youngster who tried crowd in out of turn; the least he could expect was a nipped ear.

By the time the last had been given a hatful of water my hat was a mess-but here came Dora with Fritz, her needle gun in her right fist, and, glory be!-two buckets in her left hand. "Water call!" I told my top sergeant. "Line 'em up again, Buck!"

With two buckets and two of us working we got a full bucket into each mule pretty rapidly. Then I got my shirt back from Fritz, scrubbed out the buckets a bit, filled them, and announced a third water call, telling Buck to let them drink from the pond.

He did so, but he still maintained discipline. As Dora and I left, each with a bucket of water in one hand and a drawn gun in the other, Buck was still requiring them to drink one at a time, by seniority.

It was nearly sundown when Dora and I and the dogs got back to the wagons, almost full dark as we finished watering goats and sow and cats and chickens. Then we celebrated. Minerva, I swear solemnly: on the half bucket of water we saved for ourselves Dora and I got stinkin' drunk.

Despite earlier resolutions not to stop short of the pass, we bivouacked there three days-but very useful days. The mules grazed steadily and filled out, plenty of water, plenty of forage. I shot a prairie goat at the water hole; what we couldn't eat, Dora sliced and dried as jerky. I filled all the barrels-not as easy as it sounds as Buck and I had to work out a route to the water hole, then I had to chop some, then I had to take the wagons in one at a time; it took me a day and a half.

But we had cooked fresh meat and all we could eat-and hot baths! With soap. With shampoos. With a shave for me. I carried Dora's big iron kettle to the pool, she fetched a bucket, I built a fire-then we took turns getting the stink off, one guarding while the other washed.

When we rolled toward the pass the morning of the fourth day, we were not only in fine shape, but Dora and I smelled good and kept telling each other so, in high spirits.

We were never again short of water. There was snow somewhere above us; you could feel it in the breeze and sometimes catch a distant glimpse of white in a saddle between peaks. The higher we got, the oftener we encountered rivulets, water that never reached the prairie in so dry a year. The forage was green and good.

We stopped in a little alp close to the pass. There I left Dora with the wagons and the mules and with flat-footed instructions about what to do in case I did not come back. "I expect to be back by dark. If I am not, you can wait a week. No longer. Understand me?"

"I understand you."

"All right. At the end of a week, lighten the first wagon by chucking out anything you can do without on trek. Put all food into that wagon, empty the barrels in the second wagon and put them in the first wagon, turn the sow and the chickens loose, and head back. Fill all your barrels at that trickle we crossed earlier today. After that, don't stop for anything; roll all day from dawn till dark. You should reach Separation in half the time it took to get us up here. Okay?"

"No, sir."

Minerva, a few centuries earlier I would have started to boil up at that point. But I had learned. It took me about a tenth of a second to realize that I could not make her do anything-if I were gone-and that a promise made under duress won't hold. "All right, Dora, tell me why not and what you intend to do instead. If I don't like it, perhaps we both will start back for Separation."

'"Woodrow, while you did not say so, you are asking me to do what I should do-and I would do!-if I were a widow."

I nodded. "Yes, that's right. Dearest, if I'm not back in a week, you're a widow. No possible doubt."

"I understand that. I also understand why you are leaving the wagons here; you can't be sure that you can turn them around higher up."

"Yes. That's probably what happened to earlier parties- reached a place where they couldn't go forward and couldn't turn around...then tried one or the other and went over."

"Yes. But, my husband, you mean to be gone only one day-half a day out, half a day back. Woodrow, I won't assume that you are dead-I can't!" She looked at me steadily and her eyes filled with tears, but she did not cry. "I must see your dear body, I must be certain. If I am certain, I will go back to Separation as fast and as safely as possible. And then to the Magees as you have told me, and have your child and bring him up to be as much like his father as possible. But I must know."

"Dora, Dora! In one week you will know. No need to look for my bones."

"May I finish, sir? If you aren't back tonight, I'm on my own. At dawn tomorrow I start out on Betty, with another saddle mule following. At noon I turn back.

"Perhaps, if I can't find you, I'll find a spot higher up where I can take one wagon and turn it around. If I find such a spot, I'll move one wagon up and use it as a base and look farther. I could have missed your track. Or I might have followed mule tracks-but you aren't on the mule. Whatever it is, I'll search and search again. Until there's no hope at all! Then...I will go to Separation as fast as mules can get me there.

"But, my darling, if you are alive-maybe with a broken leg but alive-if you still have a knife or even your bare hands, I don't believe that a loper or anything can kill you. If you are alive, I'll find you. I will!"

So I backed down and checked watches with her and agreed on what time I would turn back. Then Buck and I, with me up on Beulah, set out to scout ahead.

Minerva, at least four parties had tried that pass; none had come back. I'm certain enough that they each failed from being too eager, not patient enough, unwilling to turn back when the risk was too great.