The Peril Finders Part 34

"It will be just the place that we want, to give the horses and mules a good long rest for a few days, to feed up well on good pasture while we shoot, and amuse ourselves, and kill buffalo, and eat hot roast beef-- hot roast beef. And drink beautiful, clear, cold water--and you can lie down upon your chest with your face over the running stream, and drink as long as you like of the clear, cold, sparkling water--sparkling water--sparkling water--sparkling--wa--"

"Ah!" said Ned.

"Come, boys; come, boys!" said a familiar voice out of the darkness.

"Sparkling water," repeated Chris drowsily. "Much as you like, Mr Bourne."

"To be sure, my boy," said the owner of the name, laying one hand upon Chris's shoulder, the other upon Ned's, but with no effect whatever save to make them both seem to roll in their saddles as he forced his horse in between them. "Sit up; come, or you'll be falling out of the saddle.

Very sleepy, Ned?"

"Ah!" grunted the boy.

"Poor fellow!" said Bourne, with a sigh. Then aloud--"Can't you keep awake, Chris?"

"Spear fish--salmon--sparkling water," sighed the boy, bowing very low this time.

"Come, try and wake up, my lad; we're getting on higher ground, and it's not so rocky here. As soon as day begins to break we shall come to a halt, and rest for a few hours--that is, if we can be sure that there are no rattlesnakes near."

"Eh? Snakes?" said Chris, sitting very upright now, and gazing in the face of Ned's father. "Yes, snakes. Made the water taste snaky.

Horrid! Dries up your tongue. Tasted snaky."

"Mine didn't," said Bourne. "I thought it was the sweetest drop I ever tasted in my life. Come, come, Ned; do you want me to hold you on your pony? Keep up a little longer, boy."

"Ah!" grunted Ned, straightening himself and feeling about for the reins, which had escaped his hand, not that any guidance was wanted, the intelligent beast following the fight of the lanthorn, clearly seen moving ahead as Griggs' mustang plodded on.

"Why, you're asleep, Ned."

"No, father," answered the boy, telling a most brazen falsehood, for the moment before he was breathing so hard that the sounds were first cousins to heavy snores.

"That's right, then. We've had a long weary ride to-day, but we're going up-hill now and the air's growing cooler. We must be leaving the sandy plains behind."

"Yes, leave behind. Won't fall off," muttered Ned, who was sinking fast into a state of stupor.

And all the while from ahead, close by the moving lanthorn, came the musical _cling, cling, cling, cling_ of the mules' bell, with the low muttering sound made by the doctor and Griggs as they entered into a conversation about the state of the country into which they were penetrating.

"Poor fellows!" said Bourne half-aloud. "I can do nothing to keep them awake. Perhaps they will not fall off, after all."

It was growing darker, but he noted that the mustangs seemed to regulate their movements to those of their riders, and in nowise altered their steady walk when one or the other lurched and made a spasmodic effort to recover himself.

Then Bourne sighed and looked right ahead at the dull star of the lanthorn in front, some of whose rays fell from time to time upon the moving pack carried by one of the mules. From that he turned his eyes upward to the glorious stars, whose rays gave just sufficient light to enable the line of animals to avoid any obstacle in the way, though that was seldom, for Skeeter plodded steadily along with his bell, and the mules which followed almost planted their hoofs, elephant-fashion, in the prints made by those which had gone before.

"What a long, long, weary night!" sighed Bourne at last. "Will the morning never come?"

"Who's that?"--a sharp voice from close behind.

"I. Anything the matter, Wilton?"

"Yes; I nearly fell off my nag just now, to be left behind."

"You mustn't do that. 'Ware snakes."

"Oh, don't mention them," came with a shudder. "But thank goodness!"

"By all means; but for what in particular now?"

"You gave me such a fright."

"I did? How? I've been here with the boys for the last quarter of an hour."

"The boys? Where are they?"

"Here, one each side."

"Oh! I thought those were mules with packs. Do you hear, lads?"

There was no reply.

"What's the matter with them? Tired and sulky?"

"Tired? Yes! Sulky? No. They're both fast asleep."

"Poor fellows! No wonder. So was I just now."

"But you said I gave you a fright. I did nothing. What was it?"

"I was fast asleep, I tell you, holding on I suppose by my knees, when I woke up and found that you were not by my side."

"But I told you I was going to ride on and see how the boys were getting on."

"Did you? I didn't hear a word. I must have been sound."

"But you answered me, and said, 'All right.'"

"Very likely, but it was in my sleep. When I woke up, though, and found you were not with me, it was a regular shock, for I thought you must have fallen off and be lying somewhere in the darkness and your nag beside you. The sensation was horrible, for in my stupid sleepy state I felt that we might never find you again."

"How horrible!"

"It was, I can tell you. It roused me up a bit, and I had common-sense enough left in the midst of my scare to push on first and make sure.

You can't think what a feeling of relief it gave me when you answered.

I say, it would be awful if either of us were lost."

"Awful indeed," said Bourne, with a sigh. "We're on a wild chase, Wilton."

"We are; but we're in for it, and we must carry it through."

"I suppose so; but one night like this is enough. I say, will it ever be morning?"

There was no reply, and they went on for a few minutes in silence, and then there was a sudden check.