The Peril Finders Part 63

"Oh!" groaned Chris faintly. "And we shall have got the water for nothing."

"No," said Ned. "The ponies will stop, but the mule won't; he'll keep right on along the back trail, and they'll get the water after all."

"Ah!" sighed Chris, with a bright light coming into his eyes. "Then it won't have been for nothing."

"What are you doing?" said Ned, more strongly, as he saw his comrade begin to unfasten the knotted silk kerchief about his neck.

"Going to tie this to the chain. Father will know it's mine, and that it means good-bye, and--"

The effort was too much. The giddiness from which he was suffering mastered him, and he fell over sidewise on to the fast-heating sand, but with his left foot fast in the stirrup-iron, while the pony kept on a few feet before stopping short and turning to gaze down in his rider's face.

"Chris! Chris!" cried Ned, checking his pony as he closed up, while the mule went tramping on with its heavy load as if nothing whatever was the matter.

To the last speaker's wonder and horror, as the excitement of his comrade's mishap drove his own sufferings into the background, Chris raised himself a little and extricated his foot from the stirrup, before hauling himself up by the leather, to stand steadying himself by the saddle, laughing the while what sounded to Ned like a wild, hysterical laugh that was to be his last.

"Chris!" he cried.

"It's all right," gasped the boy, struggling to grow calm. "That tumble has knocked the faintness out of me. I know now--what's--what's the matter with us both."

"Chris!" rang out again.

"I know, I tell you--I felt a little while ago--oh, so ill, as if something was coming on and we were both going to die. But I know now.

Can't you see, Ned?"

There was no answer.

"Then I'll tell you. What did you have to eat yesterday?"

"Eat? I couldn't eat, only drink that little drop of water."

"And I couldn't, and didn't have above half a meal the night before.

Then we've been through so much ever since, and drunk all that water, and the sun's been beating down on us."

"What!" cried Ned, staring. "You mean it's because we're so hungry?"

"Why, of course it is. Now, tumble off your pony and lie down and die if you dare!"

"Chris!"

"That's it, I tell you, and you know it is. Oh dear, I feel so light-headed, and so empty and faint, and nothing else the matter with me at all, only that I'm so miserable because we can't get on faster."

Ned sat staring and thinking hard, but he said no word in contradiction of his companion's theory.

And there they stayed for quite ten minutes, Ned seated in his saddle, Chris standing resting against his, and with his pony pressing against him as if to keep him upright.

"Look at old Skeeter's brother," said Chris, at last. "He must be his brother, because he's so like him."

Ned looked in the same direction as his companion, to see that the mule had gone plodding on along the trail, flapping one ear to keep off the flies, and looking as if nothing would prevent it from going straight back to the camp.

"I say, you feel better now, don't you?" said Chris suddenly.

"I feel very ill and weak and giddy."

"That's how I feel," said Chris, "and I'm afraid to try and get up into the saddle again. I know I shall go down bang."

"No, no, don't," cried Ned excitedly. "Here, I'll get on the other side, and take hold of your hand."

"Shan't I pull you down too?"

"No," said Ned, speaking more strongly; "I won't let you."

"Catch hold, then," cried Chris, as his comrade urged his nag alongside that of Chris, and then as they joined hands, the latter raised his left foot to the stirrup, sprang up, and dropped into the saddle with a sigh of relief.

"Well done us!" he panted. "Who'd ever have thought that being half starved would make two fellows feel like that?"

"It was awful, wasn't it?"

"Not so horrible as thinking about them all dying for want of water.

Oh, Ned, Ned, Ned, can't we get one barrel on your or my pony and ride on fast?"

"No," said Ned decisively. "We couldn't hold it on, and we couldn't go fast."

"And we couldn't fasten the other on the mule's back. Is there nothing else we could do?"

"I can't see anything but going right on. Let's catch up to the mule now and keep on talking so as to forget about being so faint. I say, how fast one's clothes dry!"

"Yes," said Chris; "and how cool one feels in spite of the sun coming down as if it would roast us. Do you know why it is?"

"No," replied Ned.

"I'll tell you, then. Father told me once. He said it was one of the laws of physics."

"I say, don't talk about physic now."

"Who was talking about physic, stupid? I said physics--natural science.

Father said that in evaporation a feeling of coolness always comes on.

That's what we feel now as the water in our clothes evaporates. He showed me how to cool water by filling a bottle and wrapping it in flannel, then keeping it wet and standing it in the sun."

"Yes, I knew that made it cooler, but I didn't know it had anything to do with evaporation. Then the water in the barrels must be nice and cool."

"Nay, not it," said Chris sharply. "That's getting warm, because the outside of the barrels is not kept wet.--Well, old Skeeter's brother, how are you getting on?" he cried, as they rode up one on either side of the mule, the only answer being the c.o.c.king of one ear in the speaker's direction, the other at Ned.

"Let's give up worrying about it, Chris," said Ned at last. "We can do nothing else but keep on as we are, only hoping and praying that they're all lying down trying to sleep till we come. It's impossible to get on any faster."

"Quite," said Chris despairingly. "I will hope and feel sure that all will turn out as it should. It must. It shall. I say, how long have we been coming since we started?"

"I don't know, and I can't think," was the reply.

"I say, I can't see the lake now," cried Chris. "It's all hidden by the thick hot haze that has closed in."