In an Arizona desert, there is a well fifty miles from any other source of water. Within fifteen or twenty miles of it many bones lie scattered all around – bones of men and their horses that might have reached the water had it been possible to know where to find it on that featureless plain. As close as five miles stand two wagons, each with skeletons of its party huddled around it. And at the very gateway of the enclosure, a prospector was found one morning lost and dead.
Finally, an owner erected a lighthouse. He planted a tall cottonwood pole and hung a lantern upon it which was always kept lighted. Suffice it to say that no longer are bones of dead men found near the well.
The Epworth Herald says: “We shiver to think that former owners could have been willing to neglect this – to rescue perishing fellow men by so plain a means. But are you and I doing worse than that? Are we leaving our fellows in a more dreadful danger, neglecting to hold out to them the light of salvation?
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