There was a moment of anxious waiting. Then: “Hi!--Don’t worry, Sid! We’re all right!” called up Scotty’s voice in a peculiar dead inflection, for his ears were evidently numb. “The thing went off like a cannon. Only Vasquez himself, who was in the direct line of it, got killed. We’re all shaken up some, but nothing serious.” Sid whooped with joy. Never till then did he realize how deep was his affection for Scotty--that enduring bond that a mere temporary difference could affect only superficially. “The cave mouth’s shattered, but I think we can pick it loose,” came Scotty’s voice more strongly after a time. Presently the watch-fire flared up again and there came sounds of men heaving and working and the crash of stones tumbling down the lava apron. Then: “Yeaay--Sid!... Listen! She’s all right! She’s clear! I’m coming right up!” yelled Scotty’s voice, and there were muffled voices of men entering the cave. Honanta and Scotty joined them on the apron ledge shortly after. Sid felt a deep restful sense of thankfulness now that it was all over. The menace of starvation for Red Mesa was gone; Vasquez, the only other person who knew about the mine, could do no more harm. He wanted to sleep now, and sleep well. After that, a last appeal to Scotty in which Big John, he was sure, would join him. After mutual congratulations had been exchanged he got his bed roll and laid it out beside Big John’s cot, thoroughly tired and relaxed. The cowman was sleeping peacefully. After that glad hail of Scotty’s, Nurse Nature had claimed him immediately! It was not until morning that the real disaster to Red Mesa became known. A cry from one of the squaws awoke Sid. He rolled sleepily out of his blankets, to find her pointing excitedly at the lava basin of the tank. It was half empty! Down at least six feet below the rim was now the level of the water, as Sid stared at it unbelievingly. It was all too cruel to sense at first; too great an irony of fate for the human mind to comprehend. But, after the first interval of stupefaction, Sid understood what had happened. That explosion had opened a fissure in the lava bottom of the tank--and Red Mesa was slowly bleeding to death! A rush to the rim of the basin confirmed it. There, down along one edge of the apron, a thin trickle of water was flowing silent, unceasingly sapping away the life blood of his ideal Indian community, giving their precious indispensable water to those thirsty sands of the desert drinking it up far below! What a thing is puny man! Armed with the unlimited strength of dynamite, _one man_ had done all this; destroyed at a blow all living things that flourished here, upset the huge yet delicate balance of Nature, driven into a wandering exile a once happy people.