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Page 66
"It really is marvelous, though Mr. Lang doesn't think so,"
replied Elfreda.
From that point on the journey was slow and wearisome. No one
complained, however, and the ponies with their riders moved
through the night like specters of the desert.
The first leaden streaks in the sky in the east next morning found
the Overland Riders still a long distance from their objective,
the clouds not having darkened the moon as early in the evening as
Hi Lang had hoped they might do, thus delaying the start.
"I see nothing to interest us," announced Grace after a survey of
the desert with her glasses.
"Neither do I. Reckon that spy will be surprised when he makes his
morning call and finds us gone," chuckled the guide. "Yonder are
the mountains where we turn in," he added, pointing.
"I thought that was a cloud on the horizon," said Miss Briggs.
"How far is it from here?"
"About five miles. We'll be there in two hours. Mrs. Gray, will
you use your glasses occasionally as we go ahead? Stop now and
then and take your time in making observations. You can catch up
with us without straining the pony, I reckon," grinned the guide.
"Don't we stop for breakfast soon?" begged Emma.
"Tighten your belt," answered the guide. "It may be some hours
before we can settle down for rest and food."
Emma groaned dismally, and Hippy looked serious. Missing a meal
meant taking a good part of the joy of living from his day.
Sweltering heat followed the rising of the sun, and, as it lighted
up the desert with its glare, Grace stopped and began her survey
of the horizon as requested by the guide. She sat her pony until
she had carefully examined it all the way around.
"All clear, so far as I can see, Mr. Lang," she said, riding up to
him.
Hi nodded, but made no comment, for he could read the desert
better than could Grace Harlowe with her powerful binoculars.
It was eight o'clock in the morning when finally they turned into
Forty-Mile Canyon and began picking their way over the rough
ground. The desert heat followed them until the walls of the
canyon rose sheer for several hundred feet, and they came to a
cascade that, falling into the canyon, became a mountain brook.
Here there was a marked change in the temperature.
"Dismount and water the horses; then we will press on," directed
the guide. "Drink cautiously yourselves. This water is too cold to
be gulped down and will chill your blood if you take too much of
it. Do not let the ponies have all they want, either."
"You mean to say that we will go on after breakfast, do you not?"
questioned Lieutenant Wingate.
"No. We move in ten minutes."
"Humph! France in wartime was living. This is--well, I don't
believe my vocabulary is quite equal to the occasion," declared
Hippy.
"Do we go the entire length of this canyon, Mr. Lang?" asked
Grace.
"No. There are several trails leading out of it, but I shall not
take the first one. I prefer to take the second or third trail,
perhaps just before night. Whoever is interested in us will surely
find our trail leading into Forty-Mile Canyon and will follow it,
but by the time they reach, say the second turning-off path, the
canyon will be as dark as a dungeon. They will then either make
camp for the night or turn back, believing that we are going all
the way through the canyon."
Elfreda nodded her appreciation of the guide's reasoning.
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