Lil' Sojar

Update item information
Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 07
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1975
Type Text
Format application/pdf
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6154f64
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-26
Date Modified 2005-02-26
ID 325315
Reference URL

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Title Lil' Sojar
Description Andy pressed his pounding head against the earth. Leave Anderson? He couldn't do that as long as the man was alive. Welcome night spread its blanket over the canyon at last, its coolness bringing a little relief. It would afford Andy a chance to move out from under the overhang, thus giving Anderson more room. Andy could feel his tongue beginning to swell. The dust, the heat, and high temperature had dehydrated his body. Soon his lips would crack deeper, and the exuding blood would dry on them Anderson was mumbling again He could make out one word . . . water. WHAT WAS THAT? Andy held his breath. It was the unmistakable sound of hooves against rock. Now it came again, faintly . . and came no more. The Indians were out there, watching, waiting to drive him under the stuffy ledge again. He lay with his burning face against the earth. It didn't matter now, did it? No, it didn't matter at all. His head was throbbing again, and he seemed to be slipping into a strange aberrant state, a distorted reflection on the past, the confused and disorderly present, and the very dead future. Andy raised his head. What was he doing here with the morning sun slanting down on his face? The sun was a good hour high, its ray stabbing down through the oak, forming dancing patterns on the ground and the rock wall. He drew a trembling hand across his eyes. Strange that he should be lying here in his pathetic state with a horse all saddled and bridled and tied to an oak less than twenty yeards away. Andy held his throbbing head and tried to bring the past and present into focus, was it all a hideous nightmare? Perhaps. That was surely his canteen with the ridiculous Indian face painted on the flat side, hanging in the usual place. No, he remembered giving that canteen to a wounded Indian. A moaning sound coming from the overhang seemed to snap him back to reality. "Dear God," he whispered. The only audible sound as he staggered to his weak and treinbling legs were the canyon whisperings. No gunfire from the sidehill, no bantering voice to mock him. Andy wouldn't have been ashamed if the whole world had seen the tears coursing down his grimy face. He broke into a stumbling run, and seconds later his fingers closed on the cool canteen. Source: Inspired by the true story of Little Soldier, Moroni Black Hawk Brochure, 1965. -47-
Format application/pdf
Identifier 056_Lil' Sojar.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol. 7
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325284
Reference URL