The Pike's Peak Rush Part 11

"Where is the keg?" asked Terry, peering.

"There it is--that first dot. See? The gunny sacks are beyond, and the sauerkraut last. Let's turn the critters about. You bring them on and I'll go ahead. Maybe something else was jounced out."

Duke and Jenny were turned, after considerable shouting and shoving; Harry set off on a straight line for the keg, and Terry followed more slowly with the team and cart. It did seem rather tough luck that they had lost the hors.e.m.e.n's trail to the next stake; now they'd simply have to guess at direction, unless they happened to be near the stage line and a stage came.

Golly, but he was thirsty! His mouth was glued. He hoped that they all--that is, Harry and he and Shep--would get a good drink from that keg. As for Duke and Jenny, they did not deserve a drink, although doubtless they needed one. And what about something to eat?

Harry was waiting at the keg, a queer look on his perspiring, grimy face. He had set the keg on end.

"Thirsty?" he queried.

"Thirsty's no name for it," panted Terry.

"So am I. But we'll have to go easy. The bung flew out of the keg, and half the water's followed. I found the bung, but I can't find the water."

Harry evidently tried to speak lightly, but Terry read concern in his tone and face both.

"Can you stand a short drink?" encouraged Harry. "There'll be plenty on ahead somewhere."

"Sure," declared Terry, manfully, feeling thirstier than ever. "We've got a little, haven't we? And if we strike that trail maybe it'll lead us to a creek."

So they hoisted in the keg, tightly stoppered again (but it was suspiciously light), and Harry trudged ahead once more, to find the gunny sacks.

"We'll never mind the sauerkraut," he called back. "Let it stay. The lighter we travel, the better, from here to water."

Shep went with him. They dipped into a shallow, narrow draw; Terry heard Shep barking, and then Harry hallooing. And when, urging Duke and Jenny, he could see into the draw, Harry was there, at one side, beckoning and shouting to him, and at the same time examining some object on the ground.

"Haw, Duke! Haw! Hep with you!" Along the shallow draw they toiled, for he was afraid to leave the team.

Harry was kneeling, Shep was nosing and busily waving his tail. They were engaged over that object. It could not be the gunny sacks. The gunny sacks had not rolled so far from the back trail.

"Whoa-oa, Duke, Jenny! Stand, now!" And Terry trudged a few steps to join the investigation. He stopped short, astounded.

Harry and Shep had found a man--no, looked more like a boy; lying crumpled and motionless in a little saucer-shaped hollow amidst the brush.

"Say! Is he dead?" gasped Terry.

"No. Hasn't even been stepped on, I think," answered Harry. "But he needs food and water mighty bad--'specially water. Open the keg, quick."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TERRY FLEW TO THE CART ... FLEW BACK AGAIN WITH THE PRECIOUS FLUID"]

CHAPTER VI

JUST IN TIME

Terry flew to the cart, wrestled with the keg until he might pour from it, and lavishly plashing a tin cup full, even to running over, flew back again.

Harry sopped his handkerchief and mopped the up-turned face of the cast-away; trickled a few drops, now and then, in between the cracked, parted lips; wet the thin wrists. Skin and lips seemed to absorb water like a dry sponge.

The unconscious refugee was small and exceedingly thin; he could not be over eighteen or nineteen at the most. He wore coa.r.s.e shoes and trousers, and a flannel shirt open at the chest. Harry wet the white chest. Terry and Shep watched expectantly.

"He must be a stray from some pilgrim outfit," remarked Harry. "Got lost. Expect he tried to strike across country by himself, and had no food or water. Queer that the buffalo didn't harm him. They went right over him."

And that was so. All the brush, save in this oasis, was crushed, and the ground was stamped and furrowed by the myriad plunging hoofs. But somehow they had leaped the little hollow, or avoided it.

"Did you find him?" asked Terry.

"No; Shep found him. More water, please." And Harry pa.s.sed up the emptied cup.

When Terry returned with it filled again, a change had occurred in their patient. His eyes were fluttering, and he was feebly moving his bony hands. He greedily gulped for the water, and even tried to seize the cup when Harry removed it. Some of the water flowed over his face, but some of it was swallowed.

Terry hated to see any of it wasted on the ground. He was thirsty himself; so were they all--Duke bawled hoa.r.s.ely and Jenny essayed to beg, smelling water and asking for it.

The patient appeared to be attempting to speak--signed for more, more.

"A little at a time, a little at a time," repeated Harry. "You're all right. You're among friends, but you mustn't drink too much at once.

Might make you sick. Another swallow? There you are."

The second cup was emptied. The patient was beginning to mutter thickly and seemed to be seeing--signed for more, more. A slight color tinged his smooth sunken cheeks.

"He's coming round," declared Harry. "Next thing is to get him out of this sun and into the cart. We can't stay here. Whew, this sun is hot!

Watch him and shade him as much as you can, will you, while I fix things?"

Having fumbled inside the cart, away limped Harry, and returned lugging the bale of gunny sacks. He cut the binding with his knife, and opened the bale--spread the sacks in the cart, for a bed, and leaping out with a buffalo robe, brought it to the hollow.

"Now let's put him on this and hoist him aboard."

That was done, Terry tugging from inside the cart and Harry lifting from outside. The sacks and the buffalo robe made a very comfortable, snug bed, and wedged the sides so as to hold the patient securely.

"Water," feebly implored a voice.

"One cup full, this time," granted Harry. "Drink slowly--slowly, now."

The boy clutched the cup with both hands, and Harry with difficulty prevented his draining it at a gulp. But having drained it, he sank back with a sigh.

"Ho, hum!" And Harry paused, to sigh too, and wipe his streaming face with his handkerchief. Duke and Jenny had their heads turned, expectantly; Shep was sitting, his tongue out, his eyes eager, likewise demanding a share from the keg. "I suppose we'll all have a small drink apiece, but we've got another mouth to supply."

"We won't have enough, will we?" anxiously asked Terry. "We hardly had enough before."

This did loom as tough luck: to have been limited in water anyway, then to have lost the trail, and to have lost part of the water, and to have used half of the valuable day in getting nowhere in particular, but in being made thirstier than ever, and now to have added still another thirsty mouth to the company. Of course----

"Never mind," a.s.serted Harry. "Everything's all right. Don't you see--if the stampede hadn't come Duke and Jenny wouldn't have run, and if they hadn't run, we might not have lost the trail, and if the things hadn't bounced out we wouldn't have back-tracked to gather them, and if we hadn't back-tracked, we would never have found the boy, and if he hadn't been found today, he'd have died, down there in that hollow. Now we'll all get through. We won't stop to eat, but Duke and Jenny will travel a little faster for a drink, and so will the rest of us. Half a cup for you, and half a cup for me, and half a pail for them, to wash the dust out of their throats, and a dozen laps for Shep. And one more cupful for our new partner, when he needs it."

"Well," said Terry, dubiously, "I don't know whether there's that much in the keg or not."