Jack angrily slammed his hat down onto his head again. He was alone in the new country of America, and his scouting party had left him out here. Of course, it had been an accident, but it had happened.
He wasn't sure if he was going to survive; with very little food and water, there wasn't much he could do. He only had a small bag and his horse. The only thing he could see was open plains; he was in the middle of the dessert. No water in sight, except for mirages in the distance that they already knew weren't real.
Nothing to do but keep going. There wasn't much hope of finding his scouting party; he wasn't very important in the group. When they had come to America a few months ago, they had told the scouting parties that it was very common to lose people on the trips. His death wouldn't come as a shock.
Silently Jack jumped off his horse, patting its head. She neighed, and dipped her head, drool falling from her mouth.
"It's okay, girl," he whispered. "I know you're thirsty- I am too... We'll find somewhere cool to spend the night." I hope.
She didn't understand him; he hadn't expected her to. Silently he took her saddle and began to lead her on, choosing to walk instead of ride. It would tire her out more, and if she died now, he had basically no chance of survival.
Jack traveled for a few more hours, believing he had heard something in the distance. His horse was already starting to slow down; they both needed rest.
Problem was... there was no shelter. He had no idea what kind of animals hunted here at night; would they be in danger if they collapsed in the middle of the dessert, with not a single tree for shelter? Would the savages his leaders told him about kill him? Questions swirled through his mind, and his empty stomach, and tired out body didn't help him solve them at all.
Without warning, his horse suddenly stopped walking. She was panting, her skin moist from sweat. Drool spattered the ground more, and she closed her eyes.
"C'mon, old girl... we have to find shelter. Places like these, it might be dangerous at night." He attempted to push her forward, but she wouldn't budge, and he didn't have the strength to push her.
"Aw man, this is a complication," he muttered under his breath. Silently he watched her lay down, still panting. He didn't have much water left, but he pulled out a knife, and quickly constructed a small dish out of a piece of cactus. The plant was dry as a bone, and it didn't give much moisture for drinking purposes.
After a while Jack got up again, leaving his horse there. He didn't think of leaving her there to die; merely to find shelter and be able to bring her there by force.
He didn't have any luck. A few meters away from his horse, he himself fell as well, tripping over a rock. He landed, face-forward, onto a cactus, ripping his face open. Now he was surely to die.