dark face, autocratic and domineering in manner.

Night came and the boy went once more to the palm. When he struck with
his machete the water came forth, but in a much weaker stream. In
reality he was yet thirsty after he drank the full flow, but he would
not cut into the stem again. He knew that he must practice the severest
economy with his water supply.

The third night came and as soon as he was safe from observation Ned
slashed the palm once more. The day had been very hot and his thirst was
great. The water come forth but with only half the vigor of the morning,
which itself had shown a decrease. The poor palm, too, trembled and
shook when he cut into it with the machete and the blades drooped. Ned
drank what it supplied and then turned away regretfully. It was a kindly
palm, a gift to man, and yet he must slay it to save his own life.

He lay down again, but he did not sleep as well as usual. His nerves
were upset by the long delay, and the decline of the palm, and he was
not refreshed when he awoke in the morning. His head felt hot and his
limbs were heavy.

As it was not yet bright daylight he went to the palm and cut into it.
The flow of water was only a few mouthfuls. Cautious and doubly
economical now he pursed his lips that not a single drop might escape.
Then, after eating a little food he lay down, protected as much as
possible by the scanty bushes, and also sheltering himself at times from
the sun with the serape which he drew over his head. He felt
instinctively and with the power of conviction that the Mexicans would
not depart. The coming of Cos had taken the hope from him. Cos! He hated
the short, brusque name.