He was disappointed by the nearness of the hills; they seemed but a stone's throw away.

If delirium came now he would probably wander back to the water.

He lay down, determining to gather strength for many more miles.

The sand was hot under him, and the heat of a furnace was above, but he lay with his head on his arm and his hat pulled over his face.

Soon he was half-asleep, so that dreams would alternate with flashes of consciousness; or sometimes they merged, so that he would dream he had wandered into a desert, or that the stifling heat of a desert came to him amid the snows of Echo Canon.