The Peril Finders Part 60

Chris did not rest there many minutes before he sprang up again and walked hurriedly to where Ned stood with the two ponies and the mule.

"Good-bye," said Chris then.

Ned made no reply, and giving his companion one long reproachful look, Chris placed his foot in the stirrup and sprang up into the saddle.

"Won't you say good-bye?" he cried.

"No," was the reply, almost in a whisper, and with the darkness coming on fast now Chris turned away his head and leaned to the farther side of his pony, to catch hold of the long hide-rope attached to the mule's snaffle-bit. Then pressing the mustang's sides with his heels, the brave little beast stepped off boldly, the mule following close behind at the full length of the lariat, while the boy fixed the star with his eyes and made for it straight through the gathering gloom, which seemed to open out to receive him, and then closed in behind, so that after the first glance backward the boy made no other, for tent-cloth, packs, saddles, and the horses and mules had been absorbed by the haze.

If he had turned his head though, ever so little, he would have been able to see Ned standing by his pony; but he felt that he could not do that for fear of the weak feeling which caused a strange swelling in his throat increasing and causing a breakdown of the determination to which he had come.

"I can't do it," he groaned, as he rode on at a walk, and then repeating the word "Good-bye!" in a whisper, he bent forward a little, gave the hide lariat a jerk, and pressing his pony's sides, went off at an ambling trot, the mule following at once with the two barrels rolling against the wood of the pack-saddle, and with the chains making a peculiar hollow and jingling sound.

"If it were not so hot!" he muttered then, as he strove to think only of the object he had in view. "We ought to get over a long distance before daylight, for I feel as if I shall be able to do it, and the mountains may be near when the broad daylight comes."

He was getting along at a fair pace now, gazing straight at the planet and listening to the rattle of the two barrels, when his pony uttered a sharp neigh, which was followed by a squeal from the mule--two challenges uttered by those whose hearing was keener than their master's, and responded to by another neigh from behind.

In less than a minute, and before Chris had made up his mind which of the ponies was following, there was the beat of hoofs, and something shadowy closed in from the haze behind, to come close alongside.

"Who's that? You, Ned?"

"Yes," came in a husky voice.

"What do you want?"

"You know. I can't let you go all alone."

"What!" cried the boy, in a hoa.r.s.e, cracked voice. "You don't mean--"

"Yes, I do. You must be right."

It was the speaker who held out a dimly-seen hand now, one that was grasped and held while the ponies closed in so much together that the boys' legs touched as they cantered steadily on straight for a line drawn down in imagination from the planet now twinkling brightly--the guiding star which both boys mentally prayed might lead them to the object of their quest.

Then cantering steadily till the ponies dropped into a walk to avoid rough ground, the two lads rode on and on, with the barrels rolling behind, and the hours gently gliding by unheeded, till the glittering star sank lower and lower and dropped at last into the great bed of haze which seemed to extinguish it all at once, but not until Chris had marked down another to take its place as their goal.

Neither spoke, for their heads were too full of the object they had in view, with its hopes and many fears.

The ponies kept on straight for the starry guides, not deviating in the least from the point at which their heads had been directed by their riders, and the mule followed steadily behind, with the empty barrels keeping up their hollow, rumbling sound, and it was this that seemed to form a strange lulling accompaniment to the boys' thoughts, which in the course of their progress gradually darkened into a confused nightmare-like state. It was not sleep, but a stupor in which they kept on their horses instinctively, from no voluntary effort of their own.

The state of exhaustion and weakness into which they had been lapsing during the perilous journey must have had much to do with their feelings, and robbed them of the power to feel more than a dull, numbing pain which came and went as their steeds ambled or walked unchecked or guided by rein, for even the lariat had glided from Chris's fingers and trailed along behind the mule upon the sand. Not that it mattered, for the mongrel beast kept steadily on behind its companions, trotting or cantering or dropping into a walk as they gave it the cue, but never once stopping to rest or attempting to browse.

Always onward, straight onward, while the riders sank deeper and deeper into their strange stupor-like state, which, in one faint struggle back into partial consciousness, Chris had likened to the closing-in of the sultry haze which seemed to him to press upon him as if it grew so thick that it held him fast what time he was being urged through it.

Then utter unconsciousness of everything, which lasted without change and as if the very calm, restful, painful end of all things had come.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A MULE'S SCENT.

Ned had much the same account to give as Chris of his sensations about the waking up on hearing a loud snorting and splashing, accompanied by the squealing of the mule and the rattling of the tubs and chain.

Sleep or stupor, whichever it was, the boys had kept their seats during the night, and at early dawn when Chris opened his eyes, half startled by the splashing, he saw what looked like a grey plain covered with dried-up salt, stretching right away to a thick bank of what appeared to be clouds.

Then as he sat staring wonderingly, he saw that the salt plain seemed to be in motion, little waves pa.s.sing away from where he sat; and then, as the truth gradually dawned upon his misty brain, he slipped off his pony, to stand knee-deep in water and begin to scoop up the soft cool fluid and drink.

He had swallowed several mouthfuls before his brain grew clearer, and then his first matter-of-fact un-dreamlike thought was of Ned, and he cried aloud--

"Water, water!"

The answer was a gurgling sound from somewhere to the right, and turning in that direction just as there was a tremendous splashing, he became aware of the fact, dimly-seen in the grey dawn, that his companion was also standing knee-deep and drinking; the ponies were calmly drawing in the refreshing fluid between their slightly-parted lips, and the mule was wallowing and trying to roll over, every now and then sending its legs in the air, for them to come down again and raise quite a spray, for the effort to turn right over was a failure, the two barrels secured to the animal's back acting like buoys and keeping afloat.

The next moment, regardless of his clothes, Chris dropped upon his knees, bent down till his lips were within touch of the water, and then he drank, so it seemed to him, as he had never drunk before.

Breathless after a while he raised his head again.

"Ned! Oh, isn't it glorious!"

There was no reply, for his companion was now bending down and drinking with avidity.

But at last he too raised his head at the same time that the mule ceased splashing, stood up in the water, and gave itself a tremendous shake, before lowering its muzzle and drinking like the mustangs.

"Ned!" cried Chris. "Why don't you say something?"

"I can't," was the reply. And then: "I say, is it true, or only part of the long dream?"

"True, true!" cried Chris. "But look sharp. Let's fill the barrels and get back to camp."

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ned in a long sigh. "Fill the barrels--get back.

Yes, I'm beginning to be able to think now. My head felt all shut up and as if it wouldn't go. We have found water, then."

"Yes, and we've been drinking, and--What are you doing?"

There was no answer, for Ned did not hear, from the simple fact that he had suddenly plunged his head right under water, to hold it there for nearly a minute, before raising it streaming.

"Oh, Chris," he cried, "do that; it's lovely!"

His comrade wanted no more inciting to follow the example set, keeping his head below the surface in despite of the water thundering in his ears, till he was obliged to raise it and breathe.

"If we only had time for a swim," he cried, as he stood up panting once more.

"Yes, let's have one."

"No," said Chris; "the barrels--we must fill them and get back."

"Yes, of course," cried Ned. "I can't think properly yet. My head's all muddly. But how can we fill them? If we take them off can we lift them on the mule's back again?"

"Perhaps not," cried Chris. "But I know," he added, after a pause.