Therewasnothinginsight。Formilesaround，thealkaliwasempty，solitary，quiveringandshimmeringunderthepeltingfireoftheafternoon’ssun。
Butoncemorethespurbitintohisbody，goadinghimon。
Therewastobenorest，nogoingback，nopause，nostop。
Hurry，hurry，hurryon。Thebrutethatinhimsleptsoclosetothesurfacewasaliveandalert，andtuggingtobegone。Therewasnoresistingthatinstinct。Thebrutefeltanenemy，scentedthetrackers，clamoredandstruggledandfought，andwouldnotbegainsaid。
“ICAN’Tgoon，“groanedMcTeague，hiseyessweepingthehorizonbehindhim，“I’mbeatout。I’mdogtired。Iain’tsleptanyfortwonights。“Butforallthatherousedhimselfagain，saddledthemule，scarcelylessexhaustedthanhimself，andpushedononcemoreoverthescorchingalkaliandundertheblazingsun。