Still Hal Sinclair could sing softly to his horse and to himself; and, though his companions cursed his singing, they blessed him for it in their hearts. Otherwise the whole, listening silence of the desert would have crushed them; otherwise the lure of the mountains would have maddened them and made them push on until their horses would have died within five miles of the labor; otherwise the pain in their slowly swelling throats would have taken their reason. For thirst in the desert carried the pangs of several deaths - death from fire, suffocation, and insanity.
(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand)
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