Tepid, gritty, foul—was it water I 
had swallowed? The horse assigned to 
me, a small, white, benevolent animal 
named ‘ Whiskers, waded in knee 
deep and did the same. Whiskers was 
a ‘lady’s horse,’ which, being inter- 
preted, meant aged eighteen or twenty, 
with all spirit knocked out by hard 
work ; a broken down cow pony, in 
fact, or, in| local’ parlance, a) “skate,aca 
‘goat. He had lagged considerably 
behind the rest of the party. 
However, Whiskers did not matter; 
nothing mattered but the waves on 
waves of heat that quivered before my 
eyes. I shut them and began repeat- 
ing cooling rhymes, such as ‘twin 
peaks snow clad,’ ‘From Greenland’s 
Icy Mountains, and the ‘Frozen 
North,’ by way of living up to Pro- 
fessor James’ teachings. Whiskers was 
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