The
smallest heap which was also nearest to him, consisted of large metal
canteens for water, such as soldiers of that day carried. His thirst
suddenly made itself manifest again. Doubtless those canteens contained
water, and his body which wanted water so badly cried aloud for it.
It was not recklessness but a burning thirst which caused him to creep
toward the little heap of canteens at the imminent risk of being
discovered. When he reached them he lay flat on the ground and took one
from the top. He knew by its lack of weight that it was empty, and he
laid it aside. Then he paused for a glance at the sentinel who was still
walking steadily on his beat, and whom he now saw very clearly.
He was disappointed to find the first canteen empty, but he was
convinced that some in that heap must contain water, and he would
persevere. The second and third failed him in like manner, but he would
yet persevere. The fourth was heavy, and when he shook it gently he
heard the water plash. That thirst at once became burning and
uncontrollable. The cry of his body to be assuaged overpowered his will,
and while deadly danger menaced he unscrewed the little mouthpiece and
drank deep and long. It was not cold and perhaps a little mud lurked at
the bottom of the canteen, but like the gift of the water palm it
brought fresh life and strength.
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