The Quest of the Four Part 45

The four drank together and at the same pace. Never in his life had anything more delicious trickled down Philip Bedford's throat. That yellow, muddy water must have been the nectar that Jupiter and the rest of the G.o.ds drank, when they were lounging about Olympus. Four empty cups came back, and four heartfelt sighs of satisfaction were uttered.

The cups were filled again, but Bill Breakstone held up a warning finger.

"I know you want it bad," he said, "because I want it myself just as bad as any of you, but remember that it's never good for the health to drink too fast, especially when you're nearly dead of thirst."

Phil appreciated the wisdom of his words. Yet he was terribly thirsty.

On the burning desert the evaporation was so rapid that his system was already dry again through and through.

"Now," said Bill Breakstone, "fill again, gentlemen, and drink. Not quite so fast as before. Just let it linger a little, like an epicure over his wine, while the delicious taste tickles your palate, and the delicate aroma fills your nostrils."

The yellow water was all of these things to them, and they did as Bill bade while they drank. After that, they took more cups of it from time to time, and noted with satisfaction that, as they dipped the water out of the pit, more trickled back in again. Toward night they watered the horses a second time, and Arenberg suggested that they spend both the night and the day there, since the water seemed to be plentiful. In the day they could at least sit in the shadow of their horses, and, if pushed hard by the sun, they could sit in their well. As the suggestion came from Arenberg, who had the most reason for haste, it was adopted unanimously and quickly.

In the night, when it was cool and work was easy, they deepened the well considerably, securing a much stronger and purer flow of water. They also gave a greater slope to the sides, and then they went to sleep, very well contented with themselves. The next day, either in reality or imagination, was hotter than any of the others, and they felt devoutly thankful for the well, by which they could stay as long as they chose.

When the sun was at its hottest they literally took refuge in it, sheltering themselves against the sandy bank and putting their hands in the water.

"My hands must be conductors," said Bill Breakstone, "because, when I hold them in the water, I can feel the damp coolness running all through my system. Now, Sir John, you escaped convict, without the striped clothes, did you ever see such a fine well as this before?"

John laughed.

"I'd rather have this well and freedom," he said, "than my cell in the Castle of Montevideo and all the beautiful mountain springs about there."

"Spoken like a man," said Bill Breakstone; "but this well is a beauty on its own account, and not merely by comparison. Look at the flowers all around its brink. Look at the beautiful white stone with which it is walled up. Look at the clearness of the water, like silver, in which my lily white hand now laves itself.

"Our thirst rages; Water is found; Out of Hades At one bound.

"Can you better that descriptive poem, Phil?"

Phil shook his head.

"No, Bill," he replied, "I can't. We're all of us poets at heart, but you're the only one that can give his poetry expression. One poet is enough, another is too many."

At sundown they watered all the horses again, filled every canteen and skin bag with water, bade farewell to the well that they had digged and loved, and again marched westward over the sand. But they were now vigorous and full of hope, the sand was harder, and in the long cool night hours they traveled fast. Their most pressing need now was to secure food for the horses, which were relatively weaker than their masters, and by the moonlight they watched anxiously for some dim line which would indicate the approach of forests or mountains. They saw no such line, but the country was undoubtedly growing hillier. The sand was also packed much harder. At times it seemed to resemble soil, but as yet there was neither gra.s.s nor bushes.

They plodded along in silence, but hopeful. All the horses were weak from the lack of food, and the four walked by the side of them throughout the night. But the night itself was beautiful, a dusky blue sky sprinkled with a myriad of silver stars. The weakness of the horses increased, and the four human beings were much alarmed for their brute comrades, who were so important to them. But toward morning all the horses raised their heads, thrust out their noses, and began to sniff.

"Now what can the matter be?" exclaimed John Bedford.

"They smell water," replied Bill Breakstone. "They can smell it a long way off, and, as it's bound to be surface water, that means gra.s.s. I'm of the opinion, boys, that we're saved."

The horses, despite their weakness, advanced so rapidly now that the four ran in order to keep up.

"Jump on their backs," exclaimed Bill Breakstone, when they had gone about a quarter of a mile. "It's water sure, and they won't mind a little extra weight now."

They sprang into the saddles, and the horses, seeming to take it as a hint, broke into a run. They ascended a slope and saw a dark outline before them.

"Trees! Pines! Fine, good pines!" exclaimed Arenberg. "The sight iss much good!"

They galloped among the pines, which were without undergrowth, and then down the other slope. Phil caught a glimpse of something that set all his pulses beating. It was a surface of dark blue water.

"Yes, the pines are good," he said, "but this is better! A lake, boys!

A lake of pure cold water, a precious jewel of a lake, set here among the hills of the desert, and just waiting for us!"

Phil was right. It was a little lake set down among hills, with a rim of tall forest. It was almost circular, and about a hundred yards in diameter. They rode into it until their horses were up to their bodies.

They let them drink copiously, and then rode back to the bank, after which they were out with the tin cups again and took their fill, finding the water not only pure but cold. Then Philip Bedford sat down on the gra.s.s and looked at the lake. A light wind was making silver lacework of its surface. Beyond it, and apparently for some distance, fine, tall trees stood. Abundant gra.s.s, sheltered by the hills, grew in the open places. At the far edge of the lake a dozen wild ducks swam, evidently not yet understanding human presence. The silver of the water and the green of the gra.s.s were like a lotion to the boy's eyes, used so long to the brazen sun and the hot sand. He looked and looked, and then he cried:

"I think this must be heaven!"

n.o.body laughed. Every one had the same feeling. They had come from the desert, and the power of contrast was so great that the little lake with its trees and gra.s.s was, in truth, like a foretaste of heaven. They took everything from the horses, even the bridles, and turned them loose. There was no danger that they would wander from such a place.

Then John Bedford began to take off his clothes.

"I'm going to have a swim," he said. "I haven't had a real bath in more than three years, and, after this last march of ours, I think I'm carrying at least a hundred pounds of unpleasant desert about my body."

"Me, too," said Phil. "Bet you ten thousand acres of desert that I beat you into the water."

"Go ahead, boys," said Breakstone, "and Hans and I will watch and decide. Remember that you mustn't have on a single garment when you jump, or you'll be disqualified."

Breakstone had scarcely finished the words when two white bodies flashed through the air and struck the water with two splashes that were one in sound. Both disappeared beneath the surface and then came up, spluttering and splashing and swimming with bold strokes.

"A tie," said Bill Breakstone.

Hans Arenberg nodded.

The brothers found the water much colder than they had expected, but they swam so vigorously that they were soon in a fine glow. Bill Breakstone looked at Hans Arenberg. Hans Arenberg looked at Bill Breakstone.

"Why not?" said Bill.

"It iss what we ought to do," said Arenberg.

In two minutes they also were in the lake, enjoying a greater luxury than any Roman ever found in his marble and perfumed bath. All the dust and dirt of the desert were quickly swept from them, and the cold water infused new life into their veins and muscles. Toward the center they found by diving that the lake had a depth of at least twenty feet. As they saw no stream flowing into it, they were of the opinion that it was fed by underground springs, probably the snow water from distant mountains, which accounted for its coldness. At the far side they found the outlet, a rivulet that flowed between rocks and then descended swiftly toward the plain. They marked its course by the rows of trees on either side, and they knew that after its pa.s.sage from the hilly country it would enter the desert, there to be lost among the sands. To the north of them the country seemed to rise considerably, and Breakstone believed that the faint blue haze just under the horizon indicated mountains.

"If so," he said, "we're not likely to suffer much more from the desert, because the mountains in this part of the Southwest generally mean trees and water. Meanwhile, we'll take the goods the G.o.ds provide us, while the lovely lake is here beside us; which bears a little resemblance to more famous lines, and which fits the case just now."

After a splendid swim they lay on the gra.s.s and let the sun dry them, while they soothed their eyes with the view of the lakes and the woods and the horses grazed in peace near the water's edge. It was idyllic, sylvan, and at this moment they felt at peace with everybody, all except Arenberg, who rarely let his boy and the Comanches go out of his thoughts.

"Maybe we're the first white people who have ever seen this lake," said John Bedford.

"Not likely," replied Breakstone. "Hunters and trappers have roved through this region a lot. People of that kind generally see things before the discoverers come along and name 'em."

"At any rate," said Phil, "we've never seen it before, and since it's the color of silver, and it's set here in this bowl, I propose that we call it 'The Silver Cup."

"Good," said Breakstone, and the others, also, approved. They were silent for awhile longer, enjoying their rest, and then Hans Arenberg spoke gravely:

"It iss likely," he said, "that the Comanches know of this lake, and that warriors in time may come here. We are sure that their bands went westward to avoid the American troops. Wherever there iss good water they will come sooner or later, and this water iss the best. It may be that it will pay us to stay here awhile and seek some clue."

"I think you're right," said Bill Breakstone, speaking for all the others. "We don't know just where we are going, and we've got to stop and catch hold to something somewhere. And, as you say, in this part of the world good water is bound to draw people."

Now that they were thoroughly refreshed they dressed and made a very careful inspection of the country. On all sides of "The Silver Cup" but the north the belt of wood was narrow, but northward it seemed to extend to a considerable distance. Looking from an elevation there, they were positive that the blue haze under the horizon meant mountains. There was timber as far as they could see in that direction, and this view confirmed them in their resolution to stay where they were for awhile.