|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 50
"Buckets!" demanded Hippy.
They were lowered, and, in a few moments, half a dozen of them
were filled and handed up to the outstretched hands waiting to
receive them.
"This is splendid! I wish Mr. Lang were here. Too bad," said
Grace.
"Might it not be a good idea for us to fire signal shots to recall
him? He may be within hearing. Sound carries a long distance on
the desert," suggested Miss Briggs.
"Fine, J. Elfreda. Will you fire the shots?"
Miss Briggs said she would, and, in a few moments, three interval
shots rang out. Elfreda fired the signal six times, listening
after each signal for a reply. None was heard, however, and Grace
suggested that she wait half an hour or so, then try it again.
The baling went on, but the ponies and burros drank the water
faster than Grace and Hippy could get it out of the tank and pass
it up to those who were carrying water to Ping who was giving it
to the horses, singing as he worked. This was the happy refrain he
sang:
"Look-see you bucket, 'fore you tly,
Got lopee (rope) 'nuf to pump 'um dly.
One piecee mouse can dlink at liver,
But let he mousey tly for ever,
All he can do top-sidee shore
Is squinch (quench) he t'hirst an 'nuffin more."
"Every 'r' is an 'l' with a Chinaman," laughed Anne.
"That is what makes their pidgin English so quaint," answered Miss
Briggs.
"Ping says the horses don't care for any more water," announced
Nora, returning with two empty buckets.
"Pass them down," directed Hippy. "We will fill everything in
camp, including ourselves."
When, they had finished with their work, the familiar, "Him come
along," in Ping Wing's shrill voice, brought Hippy out of the
water hole in a hurry.
"Are you going to leave me down here, Hippy Wingate, or are you
going to assist me out?" reminded Grace.
"A thousand pardons! The thought of food drives every other
thought from my mind." Hippy reached down and gave Grace a hand.
"Please fire another set of signal shots," suggested Grace,
shaking out her skirt to free it from the damp sand. "Mr. Lang
will be surprised when he finds that we have a water tank right
here in camp. I hope he hears our shots."
Elfreda, having shot into the air six times, put down her rifle
and joined her companions.
"Oh, doesn't that coffee smell good?" she cried. "A warm drink is
even more necessary out here than it is in the city. I hope we
never have another such a dry time as we have just experienced."
"Listen!" warned Grace, holding up a hand for silence.
The reports of two rifle shots were faintly borne to their ears.
"That's a signal. I heard the first a second before I spoke.
Answer them, Elfreda."
Miss Briggs sprang up and fired the rifle three times. An answer
came in the form of three reports that plainly were from a long
distance away.
"That must be Mr. Lang. I am glad," said Grace, her face lighting
up in a pleased smile.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|