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Page 16
Hi Lang had uttered no comment on what had occurred, but he was
keeping up a constant thinking, now and then scowling observingly
at his charges. Of Grace and Elfreda he had no doubts, for, in his
estimation, they had graduated from the tenderfoot class. The
others had yet to prove themselves.
The ride was hot and dusty, and, in order to make up for lost
time, the party was riding fast, but the ponies, though already
flecked with foam, appeared to be as fresh as at the start.
"What time do you think we will reach the mountains?" called Anne,
who was suffering tortures from the heat and dust.
"Sundown," briefly answered the guide. "It will be worse than this
after we reach the desert."
"Worse!" groaned Emma. "I shall expire, I know I shall."
The mountains, for which they were heading, were looming larger
now, and looked cool and inviting compared to the heat of their
present position.
"What is that smoke?" asked Grace Harlowe, as they neared the
range, pointing to a thin spiral of vapor rising from the
mountains.
"I reckon it's in our camp. Ping should have chow ready by the
time we get there."
"You intend to go on this evening, do you not?" asked Grace.
"Yes. You said you were in a hurry to get to the desert."
"I shouldn't put it that way, Mr. Lang, but I am rather eager to
get into the real phase of our journey, and eager to know what the
desert is like. I have a feeling that I shall love it."
"Some do--some hate it," replied the guide thoughtfully.
"Do you hate it?" questioned the Overland Rider.
"I love it," murmured Hi Lang after a brief silence. "Little
woman, I love the white sands, the burning heat of the day, the
deadly, sweet silence of the night when all the stars come down so
close you can almost reach out and touch them. I love the dead
odor, and then--"
"Yes?" urged Grace.
"I hate it, I fight it--and I win," added the guide in a tone that
was almost triumphant. "Yet, I'd rather be out there where the
starving coyotes howl the night through, where the great, gaunt
gray wolves loom up in the night seeking what they may kill and
eat, or where a step in the dark may be your last should you tread
on a desert rattler. I'd rather be there and face all of that, and
the peril of dying from thirst, than be anywhere else in the
world," he concluded, and then lapsed into silence.
"I understand, Mr. Lang. It is the lure of the desert that appeals
to you, though none knows better than you the perils that lurk
there for the unwary traveler. I hope and believe that I may feel
as you do about it."
"You will, and so will Miss Briggs. I am not so certain about the
others."
"When you get to know us better, Mr. Lang, you will find that,
though some of us complain and fret, all are true blue."
"Humph! Beckon I know something about that myself. What I saw to-
day shows me that I don't have to worry about you and Miss Briggs.
Did you know that Ike Fairweather wrote me a long letter about you
folks!"
Grace looked her interest.
"Yes. Ike said I'd have my hands full, and that you folks would
trot a pace that would make my legs weary trying to keep up with
you. Said you weren't afraid of anything that walked, crept or
crawled."
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