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Page 46
"Have courage, Emma dear. We are all suffering from thirst. Hand
me your cup and I will give you a swallow. I don't dare trust you
with the canteen."
Grace poured out about a tablespoonful of water, which Emma drank
in one choking gulp. Each of the others got about the same
quantity, but it was not much of a relief.
"Shall I return to my position now, sir?" questioned Grace of the
guide. "Yes, please. I have told the others to do so at once.
Hereafter, in no circumstances are you people to run away as you
did just now. We must go on as rapidly as is consistent, until
dark. I wish to reach a certain point before we stop for the
night. We may find some relief there unless the storm has buried
everything so deep that we cannot find the place," said Hi Lang.
"Do you mean water?" asked Elfreda.
"I am in hopes that it may be so, Miss Briggs."
"Alors! Let's go!"
The party broke up at once and rode to their positions, Emma Dean,
red of face, her hair down her back, tear drops still trickling
down her cheeks, leaving little furrows behind them, summoning all
her courage and doing her best to regain control of herself.
The mirage had disappeared by the time the start was made, and did
not appear again to tantalize the suffering Overland Riders. All
the rest of the afternoon, eager eyes, reddened by the glare of
the sun on the white desert, sought for water holes. None were
found, not even dry tanks, but when darkness settled over the
desert a faint breeze sprung up. They drank it in eagerly, taking
long, deep breaths and uttering sighs of satisfaction.
Hi called the party together with a signal shot.
"How long before we make camp?" called Grace as she rode up.
"About five miles if my reckoning is right," answered the guide.
"No need to look for water holes now that it is dark. We shan't
find any unless we accidentally fall into one."
"You are about the most cheerful prophet I've ever known,"
declared Lieutenant Wingate. "Glad you weren't with us in the
war."
"At least, Mr. Lang has made good all his forecasts. You must
admit that," reminded Miss Briggs.
"He has, bad luck to him!" growled Hippy, which brought a grin to
the thin, bronzed face of the desert guide.
It was nearly ten o 'clock when Hi finally ordered a halt. The
Riders, upon looking about them, observed that there was
considerable vegetation there, sage, cactus, dwarfed trees and
shrubbery, scattered, twisted, misshapen things, all of them.
"Turn the ponies loose immediately," directed the guide. "They
will get a little moisture from the green stuff. Never mind
staking down. They will not run away. Ping, start a fire and cook
something. Sorry, folks, but it will have to be a dry supper this
time."
"Where is that relief you were promising us a century or so ago?"
demanded Nora Wingate.
"Yes, Mr. Lang. We have been patient and borne our thirst
uncomplainingly. Now, we MUST have relief. I don't want a dry
supper, I want water!" cried Emma.
Anne said she feared that she too had about reached her limit.
"Be patient, girls. Mr. Lang is doing the best he can," urged
Grace.
"Yes, don't we know that?" agreed Miss Briggs. "He is splendid. I
hope these unsolicited compliments do not turn your head, Mr.
Lang," teased Elfreda.
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