On the outside the wiry spines stood in rows like two-inch knife blades; but now the juicy heart, laid open by the fall, was exposed, and the cattle munched it greedily. A sudden hope came to Hardy as he watched them feed, and, climbing higher, he felled two more of the desert giants, dropping them from their foothold against the butte far down into the rocky canyon. As they struck and burst, and the sickly aroma filled the air, the starved cattle, bitten with a new appetite, rushed forward in hordes to eat out their bitter hearts. At last, when the battle had seemed all but over, he had found a new food,--one that even Pablo Moreno had overlooked,--each plant a ton of bitter pulp and juice. The coarse and wiry spines, whose edges would turn an axe, were conquered in a moment by the fall from the precipitous cliffs. And the mesa was covered with them, like a forest of towering pin-cushions, as far as the eye could see! A great gladness came over Hardy as he saw the starved cattle eat, and as soon as he had felled a score or more he galloped up to Carrizo to tell the news to Jeff. The mesa was deserted of every living creature. There was not a snake track in the dust or a raven in the sky, but as he topped the brow of the hill and looked down into the canyon, Hardy saw a great herd of cattle, and Creede in the midst of them still hacking away at the thorny _palo verdes_. At the clatter of hoofs, the big man looked up from his work, wiping the sweat and grime from his brow, and his face was hard and drawn from working beyond his strength. "Hello!" he called. "How's things down your way--water holdin' out? Well, you're in luck, then; I've had to dig the spring out twice, and you can see how many cows I'm feedin'. But say," he continued, "d'ye think it's as hot as this down in hell? Well, if I thought for a minute it'd be as dry I'd take a big drink and join the church, you can bet money on that. What's the matter--have you got enough?" "I've got enough of cutting _palo verdes_," replied Hardy, "but you just lend me that axe for a minute and I'll show you something." He stepped to the nearest _sahuaro_ and with a few strokes felled it down the hill, and when Creede saw how the cattle crowded around the broken trunk he threw down his hat and swore. "Well--damn--me," he said, "for a pin-head! Here I've been cuttin' these ornery _palo verdes_ until my hands are like a Gila monster's back, and now look at them cows eat giant cactus! There's no use talkin', Rufe, the feller that wears the number five hat and the number forty jumper ain't worth hell-room when you're around--here, gimme that axe!" He seized it in his thorn-scarred hands and whirled into the surrounding giants like a fury; then when he had a dozen fat _sahuaros_ laid open among the rocks he came back and sat down panting in the scanty shade of an ironwood.