The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peril Finders, by George Manville Fenn

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Title: The Peril Finders

Author: George Manville Fenn

Illustrator: Harold Piffard

Release Date: May 11, 2008 [EBook #25429]

Language: English

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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Peril Finders, by George Manville Fenn.

________________________________________________________________________
This is a long and excellent book, though a rare one, and is George
Manville Fenn at his very best.  It starts in California, where several
settlers had been trying to gain a living as fruit-growers, but the
various blights and insects were getting the upper hand, and failure was
in the air all round.  One day an aged and deranged old prospector comes
there, having walked in from the mountains and salt-plains, many
hundreds of miles away.  He has a belt with some excellent samples of
gold, and a story that there are ancient cities out there, where gold is
abundant.  He has a few lucid moments just before dying.  Some of the
settlers decide that they might as well give up, and go in search of
these gold-mountains and their ancient cities.

The distances are huge.  There are episodes with rattle-snakes which are
brilliantly written.  Eventually they come to one of these cities,
carved into the rock.  They find evidence that the city had been sacked
by invaders, many hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years before.  But
while they are there they are attacked by a large number of Apaches,
whom eventually they manage to beat off by an ingenious trick.  So they
are once again on their travels.  They spend several years, but never
manage to find the gold-mountains, though they do find another sacked
city.  Eventually they decide that enough is enough, and they make their
way back to their original fruit-farms, where they find all the other
neighbouring settlers gone, but to their surprise they find their own
farms blooming with excellent fruit, natural predators for the blights
and scale-insects having arrived on the scene.  So they move back into
their old farm buildings, and carry on their businesses.

There are several adults, all men, in the story, but the principals
are two lads whose fathers are leading the expedition.  Another hero is
an American settler, who has great wisdom and character, having much
more experience of the wilderness than any of the others.  Other
important characters are the mules that carry their equipment, and also
the extremely important water kegs.  The horses are very important, too.
You will love this book, especially if you can make it into an
audiobook, but it will be one of no mean duration.

________________________________________________________________________
THE PERIL FINDERS, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE WESTERN PARADISE.

"Well, boys, where have you been?"

The speaker, a sturdy-looking, sun-tanned man, seated upon a home-made
stool at a rough home-made table in a home-made house of rugged,
coarsely-sawn boards, with an open roof covered in with what one of the
boys had called wooden slates, had looked up from his writing, and as he
spoke carefully wiped his pen--for pens were scarce--and corked the
little stone bottle of ink so that it should not evaporate in the
super-heated atmosphere, before it was wanted again for the writing of
one of the rare letters dispatched to England, these being few, the
writer preferring to wait till the much-talked-of better days came--the
days for which they had been patiently waiting five years.

The boys looked sharply one at the other, their eyes seeming to say,
"You tell him!"  But neither of them spoke, and the penman said
sharply--

"Hallo!  Been in some mischief?"

The boys spoke out together then, and muddled or blurred their reply,
for one said, "No, fa," being his shortening of _father_, and the other
cried, "No, sir," both looking indignant at the suggestion.  "What have
you been doing, then?"

"Fishing, sir."

"Good lads!" cried the first speaker, leaning back on his seat, and
starting up and grasping the rough edge of the table to save himself
from falling, while the boys burst out laughing.

"Yes, you may laugh, my fine fellows," said the first speaker rather
pettishly, "but it wouldn't have been pleasant for me if I had gone
down."

"No, fa," said his son, colouring and speaking quickly.  "I beg your
pardon!  I am sorry."

"I know, Chris.  You didn't think.  I suppose it looked droll."

"Yes, sir," said the other boy, hastily.  "I beg your pardon too.  You
thought you were in an arm-chair, didn't you?"

"I did, my boy," was the reply, given in company with a weary sigh.
"But granted, granted, and thank you.  I'm glad to find that though we
are leading this half savage life, you young fellows don't forget that
you are gentlemen."

"Gentlemen's sons, sir," said the second boy modestly.

"Same thing, Ned Bourne.  Well, so we're to have a treat: fish for
dinner, eh?  Where are they?"

The boys exchanged glances again, their eyes twinkling with mirth, and
then they burst out laughing merrily once more.

"A big basketful, boys?"  And the speaker rubbed his hands.

"No, fa," cried the first boy.  "We haven't caught one."

"What!  Why, where did you go?"

"To the upper pool, sir," said the second boy, "and there wasn't a
fish."

"Then why didn't you try the river?"

"There is no river now, fa."

"No river?"

"No, fa; it was all turned into pools when we were there a fortnight
ago, and now there's only a muddy spot here and there; all the rest have
dried-up."

"Tut, tut, tut!  What a place it is!"

"Oh, it will be better soon, sir," said the second boy cheerfully.
"There'll be a heavy rain, the river will fill again, and the fish begin
running up from the sea.  It's such a lovely morning out, and the
flowers are glorious."

"Yes, Ned, lovely and glorious," said the penman sadly.  "It is, as I
have often said, a perfect paradise--a beautiful garden.  I don't wonder
that the old mission fathers called it the Valley of the Angels.  But
though we can drink in the beauty of the place it does not quench one's
thirst, and not being herbivorous people, we can't feed on flowers.  Oh
dear!  Then there are no fish?"

"Not till the rains come, fa."

"And when they do come the wet will find it easy to get to your skin,
Chris--and to yours too, Ned Bourne.  What a pair of ragamuffins you
look!"

The two frank, good-looking lads coloured through their bronzed skins,
and each involuntarily clapped his hand to a guilty spot--that is to
say, one covered a triangular hole in his knickerbockers and the other
pressed together the sides of a long slit in his Norfolk jacket, and
they spoke together again.

"I got hung up in the agaves, father, and the thorns catch like hooks."

"A nail ran into my knicks, sir, when I was on the roof mending the
shingles."

"A very meritorious proceeding, my dear Ned, but there are needles and
thread in the chest: why didn't you mend your knicks, as you call them?
Don't let's degenerate into scarecrows because we are obliged to live
this Robinson Crusoe-like life.  It's many years since I read that book,
Chris, but if I recollect right he used not only to mend his own
clothes, but make new ones out of goat-skins.  `A stitch in time saves
nine,' boys, so mend your ways--I mean the open ways where the wind and
rain get in.  See anything of your father, Ned?"

"Yes, sir; he's working away with Mr Wilton up in the far
orange-grove."

"Far orange-grove," repeated Christopher Lee's father bitterly; "a grove
without oranges.  Is the blight--the scale, I mean--any better up
there?"

"No, sir.  Father said it was a hundred times worse."

"But that was exaggeration, Ned," cried Chris eagerly.  "It's very bad,
but not a hundred times worse than it was last time we were there."

"Say eighty or ninety times worse, then," said Chris's father bitterly.

"No; dad's right, sir," cried Ned Bourne.  "The twigs and leaves are
covered with those nasty little tortoise-like things, and he says they
are sucking all the juices out of the trees."

"They might have waited till the fruit was ripe," said Chris, with a
grin, "and then been contented with sucking a few oranges."

Doctor Lee smiled sadly at his son, and was silent for a few moments
before saying--

"That's bad news indeed, boys; it's like the last straw that breaks the
camel's back.  I did hope that the orange trees were going to be better
this year; it would have made up for that other disappointment."

"What other disappointment, fa?" cried Chris sharply.

"Over the peaches.  I've been through the plantations this morning
before I sat down to write home about our troubles."

"But have the peaches got scale too, father?"

"Yes, my boy, and every other blight and disease possible to them,
without counting the dry shrivelled state they are in from the drought."

"Oh dear!" sighed Chris.  "There seems to be nothing here but
disappointments."

"Oh yes, there is, my boy," said the doctor; "it is a land of beauty and
perfect health."

"Yes, it's beautiful enough, fa," said Chris grudgingly, "and it's
wonderful to see Mr Bourne, who used to be so weak that he had to be
carried out to lie in the shade, while now he can do anything.  He runs
faster than we can, doesn't he, Ned?"

"Ever so much," said the lad proudly, and with glistening eyes.

"And he carried that tree to the saw-pit," said Chris; "the one we
couldn't lift."

"Yes, he has thoroughly recovered," said the doctor, "and we were none
of us so well before in our lives."

"But that makes it so bad for you, fa," said Chris, with something of
his father's bitterness of tone.  "How are you ever going to get a
practice together if people will be so horribly healthy?"

"What!" cried the doctor.  "Horribly healthy, indeed!  Why, you wicked
young ruffian, do you suppose that I want people to be ill?  Thank
goodness that it is such a paradise of beauty and health.  Don't I have
people come from a hundred miles round with their accidents--broken
limbs and cuts?"

"Doctor Lee," said the other boy, who had been sitting on a flour-barrel
very silent and thoughtful and with his brow puckered up, while his
voice sounded eager and inquiring.

"What is it, sir?  Are you going to defend Chris?"

"No, sir; I wasn't thinking about what he said, but about the way
everything we have planted fails.  I can't understand it."

"Can't you, my boy?"

"No, sir.  We all came here from England, didn't we, to seek for
health?"

"That's right, Ned."

"Father gave up his living in Derbyshire because if he had stopped any
longer he would have died."

"Yes, Ned, and Mr Wilton gave up his practice as a lawyer because his
doctor said that he was in the last stage of consumption."

"But you didn't, sir."

"I was not his attendant, my boy.  I had never seen him or Mr Wilton
till I met them here on this land they have taken up."

"Did you think they'd die, sir?"

"I was afraid so, Ned.  I never expected to see them recover as they
have."

"Then I won't say it's a horribly disappointing place," cried Ned,
proudly.  "I say it's beautiful and grand."

"So it is, my boy," said the doctor; "but why have you begun talking
like this?"

"Oh, that's nothing to do with what I was going to say, sir," said the
boy excitedly.

"What were you going to say, then?" asked the doctor, smiling.

"That I can't understand it, sir."

"Well, you said so before," cried Chris grumpily.

"Of course I did; you needn't catch me up, Chris.--I mean this, sir; I
can't understand why it is that the trees and flowers and other things
grow so beautifully here, while the peaches and oranges, bananas and
corns are always killed by frost or want of water, when they are not
covered with insects and grubs which make them wither away."

"That's simple enough, my dear boy," said the doctor gravely.  "All
those things which flourish so well are natives of this part of the
world, and grow wild.  Those which we have planted are foreign to the
soil, and grow after the fashion to which they have been trained by
cultivation.  Nature is a better gardener than man, but fruits of the
soil that she produces and which flourish so bravely are not suited to
our requirements."

"Oh, I see," said Ned thoughtfully.  "But what about the millions of
insects?  Why don't Nature's plants get blighted the same as ours do?"

"They are," replied the doctor; "only in the enormous space and amongst
the millions of trees spread about, we do not notice that a part of them
suffer.  It is only in the plantations and orchards and gardens set
apart by man for growing things quite foreign to the soil, that the
damage is so plain.  Nature never meant groves of oranges to flourish
here, or they would have existed--at least, so it seems to me.  As it
is, we choose to settle down upon wild land that has been the home of
the insects which annoy us ever since the beginning of time, and plant
those foreign trees, so we must take our chance of their succeeding.
Who's that coming across the plantation?"

"Mr Wilton," said Chris, running to the door.

"And father along with him," cried Ned.

"Tut, tut, tut!  To dinner, I suppose," said the doctor dismally.
"Potatoes and damper!  Oh, boys, I did think you would have had a dish
of fish."



CHAPTER TWO.

OUR YANKEE NEIGHBOUR.

The gentlemen named strode into the roughly-furnished kitchen-like room,
looking as unlike a clergyman and a lawyer as could be imagined, for
both were dressed in well-worn garments, half farmer, half back wood
settler, the one with a thistle staff or spud in his hand, the other
shouldering a double gun, which, following the example of his companion,
he set up in a corner in company with the spud and a couple of fishing
rods and a landing-net, before going to the broad shelf over the
fire-place, upon which he placed a cartridge wallet, glancing at the
same time at another fowling-piece and four rifles hanging across upon
hooks.

The whole place was untidy, giving the notion to an observer that no
woman ever entered the shanty; but the firearms looked clean and bright,
and the gentleman who had just deposited the canvas wallet on the
mantel-board was probably answerable for the absence of dust, for he
took an old silk handkerchief from his pocket, and using it liberally,
flicked away a few traces of white wood-ash which had floated up from
the fire smouldering on the hearth in spite of the heat of the day.

"Hallo, boys!" he said; "back again?" and without waiting for an answer,
he continued, "What have you for dinner to-day, Lee?"

"Potatoes--damper--"

"Hang it all, man!  There's a tin or two of preserved meat.  One wasn't
finished."

"No," said the doctor; "I looked at it this morning, and it had gone
bad."

"Too bad to eat--for a hungry man?"

"Yes," said the doctor; "unless he wants to poison himself."

"This sounds cheerful, Bourne."

"Horrible!  There, it's of no use to save up," said the gentleman
addressed.  "You must give us the last tin of bouille beef."

"Gone bad too," said the doctor gruffly.

"What, have you opened it to see?"

"No; the top and bottom are both blown up in a curve with the bad gas
generated."

"Well, upon my word!  Hear this, Wilton!  Can anything be worse?"

"No.  Who says home--Eastward Ho!" replied the gentleman addressed.
"Look here, Lee; we've been talking it all over as we went well over the
plantation this morning.  Everything has gone wrong, and it's madness to
try any longer.  Why, it's five years since we agreed to join hands and
lands and to work the fruit-farm into a success."

"Yes," said the doctor sadly; "and we've worked like slaves."

"I'm afraid," said the gentleman addressed as Bourne, "that no slaves
would have worked half so hard."

"That they would not," cried Wilton.  "There, it's a failure, and we'd
better get to 'Frisco and take passage by a sailing-vessel while we have
the money.  The plantation is going back to a state of nature, and we
shall waste time by trying any more."

"We ought to stay on for a bit," said the doctor, as the two boys stood
listening eagerly and forgetting all about the poor dinner to come.

"What!" cried Wilton, with a bitter laugh.  "Who'd buy it?"

"Oh, we shouldn't make much; only enough to pay our passages back to
Liverpool.  Some newcomer would be glad to have a place fenced in and
planted, and with all the improvements we have made."

"I, for one," said Mr Bourne firmly, "will not be a party to selling
such a miserable failure to a stranger."

"Nor I," cried Wilton angrily.  "It wouldn't be honest."

"Well, I suppose not," said the doctor sadly.  "I'm afraid--no matter
how little we obtained--I should feel as if I had swindled my
brother-seeker for prosperity.  There, I'll join with you in what you
say.  But what a failure we have made!"

"No, no, not altogether," said Ned's father warmly.  "We have found what
we ought to think better than riches.  Eh, Wilton?"

"Hah!  Brother-grumbler, we have indeed," said the other.  "I never
expected to be strong again."

"And we are," said Bourne.  "Strong as horses, thanks to you, Lee."

"No, no, no, I won't take the undeserved credit, my dear fellows; thank
the climate and the out-door life.  The place is a regular Eden."

"Only it won't grow us food-stuffs to live upon."

"Nor fruit to sell," added Wilton.  "There, we've talked it over for
years, worked till we have been worn out, and hoped against hope.  The
plantations are the homes of plagues of every noxious insect under the
western sun, so let's give it up and go."

"Agreed," said the others, and the boys joined in with a hearty
"Hurrah!"

"Then you won't mind going, Ned?" said Mr Bourne.

"No, father.  I should like it--for some things," replied the boy
addressed, and he looked wistfully at his companion.

"What do you say, Chris?" cried the doctor.  "You want to go, then?"

"Yes, fa, I should like to go to England again, but I shall be very
sorry to go away from here, for it is very beautiful, you know."

"But you'd like the change?"

"Yes, fa," said the boy frankly, "for some things.  But I shouldn't like
it if Ned Bourne were not coming too."

"Oh!  I should be coming too, shouldn't I, father?" said the other lad
eagerly.

"Of course, my boy.  I dare say Doctor Lee will think out some plan by
which those years of companionship may be continued," looking at his
friends.

"Oh yes," cried Wilton eagerly; "that must be managed somehow.  I should
say--Who's this?"

"Company?" said Ned's father, turning to look through the open door
towards the track leading to the next plantation.

"Our Yankee neighbour," said the doctor.  "What does he want?"

"It's a patient for you, Lee," said Wilton.

"Hillo, you!" cried the newcomer, in a lusty voice, but in rather a
nasal sing-song tone.  "Doctor there?"

"Yes; come in," was the reply, and a tall, sun-dried, keen-looking man
in grey flannels, the legs of which were tucked into his boots, dropped
the butt of his rifle on the earthen floor with a dull thud, as he
slouched into the room, to show the assembled party that the joke about
a patient for the doctor was a good guess, and that many a true word
really is spoken in jest.



CHAPTER THREE.

THE MAN FROM THE WILDERNESS.

"Howdy, all on you?  Two boys included.  D'yer hear, nippers?  I was a
bit scared about ketching you, doctor.  You're wanted yonder."

"An accident?" cried the doctor quickly.

"Accident?" said the newcomer.  "Wal, yes, that'll do.  You might call
him an accident, poor beggar, for he's about played down to the lowest
level.  Some'd call him a loafer, but we'll say accident--fatal
accident, for I'm thinking he's too far gone for you, friend Lee, clever
doctor as you are."

"Where is he?  At your place?"

"Nay-y-y!  He's trudging along after me.  I said I'd fetch the doctor to
him, poor fellow, but he just found words enough to say he'd come after
me, and he crept along.  Yes," continued the American, turning to the
door.  "Here he comes.  Do what you can for him, and send him back to
me; he can have one of the sheds and as much husk as he likes to lie on
for the time he wants it, and I don't think that'll be long."

"I dare say we can do that for him, poor fellow," said the doctor
coldly, as he stepped towards the door, and then uttered an exclamation.
"For goodness' sake, Bourne, look here!"

Both his companions and the boys hurried to the door to look out where a
strange, gaunt-looking, grey-haired figure came creeping along in the
hot sunshine, walking painfully by the help of a stout six-foot stick.

At the first glance the red-brown skin drawn so tightly over his face
made him resemble a mummy more than a living being, while his worn
canvas and skin garments clung so tightly to him that his bodily aspect
was horribly suggestive of a clothed skeleton.

Upon seeing that he was observed he stopped short, leaning forward
resting heavily upon the stick, to which he clung, peering from beneath
the shadow cast by his bony brows, while his eyes, deeply sunken in
their orbits, seemed to literally glow.

The next moment he turned slowly towards a rough bench fixed beneath a
shade-giving tree and sank slowly down with his back to the trunk,
stretching out a long thin hand towards the doctor, while his dry
greyish lips moved as if appealing naturally to him, the man he believed
able to give that which he sought--help.

"Ugh!  How horrible!" whispered Chris to his companion.  "If I had seen
him lying down I should have thought that he was dead."

The boy's idea was shared by all present, as the doctor stepped forward
to their visitor.

"That's how he looked at me when he came up," said their American
neighbour.  "He can't say a word--only point and make signs."

"But where does he come from?"

"Over yonder," said the American, nodding south-east.  "I caught sight
of him when I first woke this morning, ever so far away, and then forgot
all about him for hours, when I saw him again, and he had crawled
nearer, about a hundred yards an hour, I should say.  He looked so queer
that I went over to him, and tried, as soon as I had got over the first
look, to find out who and what he was."

"Well," said Christopher eagerly; "who is he?"

"You know as much as I do, squire, and that's nothing," was the reply;
"but I guess."

"Yes: what?" cried Ned.

"Strikes me, young sir, that, he's some poor chap who has been regularly
swallowed up in the great desert of salt plains over yonder.  Lost his
way, and his wits too, seemingly.  Lots have been in my time."

"What, crossing the plains?" said Chris.

"Yes.  It's like getting into quicksands.  I never knew of any one
before getting back again after once getting well in.  It's going
straight away to death to go there.  This one's crawled out, poor chap,
but it's only to die.  Look at him; he's as good as dead now, all but
his eyes."

"Yes, it is horrible," said Ned, in a voice hardly above a whisper.
"How can anybody be so foolish as to go?"

"Ah, that's it," said the American, with a harsh chuckle.  "They've seen
yellow, or fancied they have, and been dreaming about it till it's too
much for them, and away they go--mad."

"Yellow?" said Chris wonderingly.  "I don't understand you."

"He's making fun of us, Chris."

"Not a bit of it, my lad," said the American.  "I mean it.  He's had the
yellow fever badly.  I had an awful fit of it when I first came out here
and took up land to grow things that won't grow.  There were plenty of
old settlers and people here in those days, who had come cram full of
stories about the salt desert yonder and what it hid.  They said that
the old mission fathers who first came here to travel about among the
Indians discovered an old city there, half buried in the drifting sand,
and beyond it two great hills.  They said that there was a great
treasure in the city, left by the old people who had lived there, and
that the hills beyond were of solid gold, waiting for any one who would
risk all there was to meet and go.  They said he'd come back the richest
man in the world--if he did come back at all."

"And did anybody go?" said Chris breathlessly.

"Oh yes, my lad, as I said before; but no one had ever heard of any
coming back to be rich.  I didn't go.  Hadn't pluck enough, I s'pose, or
else you might have seen me come back like that poor chap there.  Don't
look very rich, do he?"

"No: horrible," said Chris again.  "Look, Ned; father's doing something
to him."

"Yes," said the American grimly, "and I expect we shall all have to do
something to him soon."

"What?" cried Ned excitedly.

"Dig," replied the American, almost in a whisper, and the boys looked
about at the beautiful scene spreading around, and shuddered as they
felt the full meaning of their neighbour's words.

"Ah, 'tain't nice to think about, is it, lads?" continued the American;
"much better to stop here and grow yellow oranges--not that I've found
it so," he continued, with a sigh.  "It's all been one horrible
disappointment.  Still one is alive and well, while that poor fellow--"

"But he's very, very old," said Chris.

"Old?  Awful.  Looks old too, from what he's gone through.  I should say
he has starved, and been dried-up with thirst, and been hunted by those
brutes of plain Indians, and had all his seven senses driven out of him.
But maybe I'm all wrong, after all."

"Oh no: I think you're right," said Chris eagerly.  "You must be."

"Must, eh?  P'raps it's all my fancy."

"How could a man come like that, then?" cried Ned.

"That's what we've got to learn, my lad; but most likely we shall never
know, for, take my word, that poor chap has found his way to this place
at last as a quiet spot where he may lie down and die."

"And my father won't let him," cried Chris excitedly.  "Look, he's going
to do something for the poor fellow now."

The little group moved towards where the doctor was bending over his new
patient; but he motioned to them to keep back, and all waited, watching
him for the next ten minutes, when he beckoned to Mr Bourne, who
stepped forward, to find the stranger lying motionless and with his eyes
closed.

"Dead?" he whispered in awe-stricken tones, as he gazed down pityingly
at the wasted object before him.

"As near to it as he can be to remain alive," replied the doctor.  "I
can't let him lie here.  Ask Wilton to help you bring the loose door
from the long shed, and we'll get him upon it and carry him there."

"Yes," said Mr Bourne quickly, and he hurried back to the others.

"Come for the physic?" said the American, smiling; but on hearing what
was required he eagerly joined in to help, and in a few minutes the
roughly-made door was placed beside the unfortunate man, who was drawn
upon it and carried into the long open shed and placed upon a heap of
sweet new Indian corn-husks over which a blanket had been laid, a
home-made pillow being fetched by Chris from the shanty the party
shared, and as soon as the stranger felt the restfulness of his shaded
easy couch he uttered a low sigh, opened his eyes, and looked up in the
doctor's, but only to gaze in a strange, far-off, stony way.

"Going to give him something now, doctor?" said the American.

"Not yet," was the reply.  "He is quite exhausted, and disposed to
sleep.  Did you give him anything?"

"Mug o' water with a drop of cold tea in.  He seemed choked with
thirst."

"Then I will wait and see if he sleeps before I do more."

"But say, mister," said the American; "I didn't show him the way here so
as to plant him on to you.  I thought you'd give him some pills now and
a draught to take in the morning.  I could have done this for the poor
chap.  Hadn't you better do something of that sort and let me take him
back?  What do you say to bleeding him?"

"When he has scarcely a drop of blood left in his body?"

"Oh, all right; I don't understand that sort of thing, doctor.  But I
don't want you to think I meant to shuffle from helping a man out of a
hole."

"Oh, I don't think that, Griggs," said the doctor warmly; "but the poor
fellow must not be moved.  He's in the last stage of exhaustion, and
must have suffered terribly."

"Precious old un, ain't he?" said the American, gazing down at the head
no longer covered by the rough cap of puma-skin that the patient had
worn, and all noting the yellow, half-bald head and the long, thin,
perfectly white hair and beard.

"A man of seventy, or more, I should say," replied the doctor gravely.

"Hundred and seventy, you mean," said the American sharply.

"No: about the age I said," replied the doctor.

"Well," cried the American, in a tone full of the surprise he felt, "yew
do surprise me, doctor!"

"Let's leave him for a bit," said the doctor, as he saw that their
visitor's eyes remained closed.  "Perhaps he will sleep for a while."

The party backed out of the airy shed used for storing corn in the
season, and often utilised in the hottest weather for a sleeping-place
by the occupants of the shanty, and the strange visitor was left alone.

"I feel mean over this job, neighbours," said the American, as they
moved towards the shanty; "and now I'm going to be meaner and meaner, as
I am here and had no time to see to my vittling department.  Got
anything to eat?"

"A very poor spread, Griggs," said Wilton, smiling, "but of course we
shall be glad if you'll share it."

"I call that rale kind of you, and I will stop, for I'm downright
hungry, and precious little to home.  I say, if the President ever sends
round for us to vote a new name for this part of the State I shall
propose that we call it Starvationton.  Why, look here, you're a deal
better off for corn and hay than I am to home," he continued, as he sat
back after munching potatoes and damper, and washing all down with fresh
cool water from a little spring which never failed.  "White wine too as
never gets into a fellow's head.  But the place don't answer my
expectations; does it yours?"

"Ours?  No, Griggs," said Mr Bourne sadly.  "We've made up our minds to
give it up."

"Not pull up stakes and go?" cried the American, bringing the haft of
his knife down upon the rough table with a loud rap.

"Yes," said the doctor; "fruit-growing here is fruitless."

"Yes, because we don't get any fruit.  But look here, you neighbour
Wilton, you don't say anything: you don't mean to go too?"

"Indeed, but I do," replied the gentleman addressed.

"Hear him!" cried the American.  "But you lads--you are going?"

"Why, of course we should," cried the boys, in a breath.

"What, and leave me nearly all alone by myself?  Well, as sure as my
name's 'Thaniel Griggs, I call it mean."

He looked round from one to the other, as if asking for an explanation,
and rested his eyes last upon Mr Bourne, as he added--

"On-neighbourly, that it is."

"We shall be sorry to lose so good a neighbour," said Bourne; "but what
is to be gained by trying any longer?"

"Hum!  That's a riddle," said the American.  "Give it up.  Ask me
another."

"What can we do to improve our position anywhere near?"

"Hah!  That's another riddle, and not so easy as t'other.  Got any more,
for I give that one up too."

"I think those two are enough," said Wilton merrily.  "The fact is,
Griggs, we have all come to the conclusion that we are wasting our lives
here."

"Where are you going, then?"

"Home," was the reply.

"Ah!" cried Griggs.  "There's a nice sound about that--Home.  Well, I
shall go with you."

"What!" cried the doctor.  "To England?"

"No, I didn't say that.  I'm not going to cross the herring-pond.  Your
people yonder wouldn't take to me.  But let's try some other place.
Pull up tent-pegs and take up a location farther north, and I'll go with
you.  What do you say, doctor?"

"That you are wasting your life here, Mr Griggs, and that I should
strongly advise you to make a fresh start."

"Along with you and the other neighbours?"

"I do not say that."

"Eh?  Not too proud to have me, are you?"

"Certainly not," said the doctor warmly.  "You have often proved
yourself too good a friend."

"Ah, that sounds better, doctor.  Just you think over what I said, and
don't be in too great a hurry to go back to the old-country.  There,
thankye for the dinner."

"Dinner!" said Wilton contemptuously.  "I wish it was."

"Might have been worse," said the American good-humouredly.  "You
old-country folk have a saying about, `You shouldn't look a gift horse
in the mouth.'  Well, that'll do in this case--noo version.  When you go
out to dinner you shouldn't look at what people give you to put in your
mouth.  There, I'm off.  But lookye here, squires, all of you.  I'm off
now to go on killing blight and things, but as soon as you're tired of
our wild man, just send me word, and I'll fetch him over to my place."

He gave a comprehensive nod all round and was passing through the door,
but turned sharply round.

"Here, I'll just take a peep at the poor fellow as I go, doctor, by your
leave--Go on tip-toe, you know.  P'r'aps you'd like to go with me."

"Yes, I want to see him again," replied the doctor, and they went to the
temporary hospital together, and found the stranger sleeping heavily.

"Man must have gone through a deal to get to look like that, doctor,"
whispered the American, as they stole away.

"A great deal more than we know, or ever shall know, friend Griggs,"
replied Chris's father.

"Oh, I dunno so much about that, mister.  You once get him well, and
he'll spin us a yarn, I expect, such as'll make our hair stand on end."

"But how to get him well?" said the doctor, smiling sadly.

"Oh, you go on; you'll do it.  See how you mended that black fellow the
horse kicked to pieces.  It was wonderful; made me wish I'd been a
doctor myself.  But there, I must be off back."

He turned away, and after another glance at his sleeping patient, who
quite fascinated him by his strangely weird aspect, the doctor returned
to the shanty, where he and his companions began at once to discuss the
bearings of the strange incident, talking over the possibility of the
man having been lost, perhaps for years, in one of the great deserts
towards the south, and having at last found his way back to
civilisation, while the two boys sat silently drinking in every word,
associating their weird visitor with wild and stirring adventures in the
unknown land.

"I say, Ned," said Chris that night when they went to their rough beds,
"shouldn't you like to go right off and see what the wild part of the
country's like?"

"I just should," replied Chris's companion.  "We'd take rifles and
plenty of ammunition, and go exploring.  It would be fine!"

"But they wouldn't let us go," said Chris slowly.

"Think not?"

"Sure of it.  Why, if I was to ask father to give me leave he'd take me
out to the long shed and say, Do you want to come back like that poor
fellow there?  So would your father."

"Yes.  Just as if it was likely!  I dare say he lost himself, poor chap.
We shouldn't," continued Ned.  "The way would be always to take
bearings, and never lose sight of them."

"Or take a big ball of white cotton and unwind it as you go," said
Chris, grinning.  "You're bound to find your way back then."

"Get out!  You're poking fun at me," said Ned quietly.  "I know a better
way than that of yours, which is of course nonsense.  How could a fellow
take miles of cotton in his pocket to unwind!  No: I tell you what!  The
best way would be--Chris!--Chris!--Why don't you answer?  Oh, what a
Dummkopf it is!  Fast as a top in a moment!  I never saw such a fellow
to sleep!"



CHAPTER FOUR.

WENT OFF TO SLEEP.

Chris was, as they say, "fast as a top," but he was the first to awaken
in the morning, according to his regular custom, just when the orange
sun was beginning to tinge the east, and jumping up and scrambling on
his clothes he stepped out into the cool dawn, with the intention of
having a look at the bony features which had haunted his dreams.  But
just as he reached the open doorway and was about to step cautiously
inside, there was a faint rustling sound which made his heart seem to
stand still with the chill of horror which ran through him, for from out
of the darkness where the stranger had been laid a shadowy form rose up
and came forward.

The feeling of dread was only momentary, though it was succeeded by a
strange shrinking from coming face to face with the awe-inspiring object
of his solicitude.  But the boy stood firm.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he said to himself, and then
wonderingly--"You, father!"

"Yes, my boy; what is it?"

"I only came to see if the man was awake."

"Half," said the doctor.  "He is slightly conscious at times.  You are
early, my boy."

"Not so early as you are, father," said the boy, smiling.  "How long
have you been here?"

"All through the night, my boy."

"Oh!"

"I was afraid to leave him--he is so weak.  I have had to give him a
stimulant every hour to keep him alive.  There, go now, and don't talk.
I want him to sleep."

Chris stole away, and then stood thinking whether he should rouse up Ned
to go to one of the pools higher up the nearly-dry river, and bale it
out on the chance of getting a few fish after all.

But on second thoughts he let his comrade rest and went into the lean-to
on the other side of the shanty, where he busied himself in lighting a
fire upon the stone and setting the kettle over it, after which he went
cautiously indoors, to return again with a tin canister, which upon
being opened sent forth a fragrant odour.

A few minutes later he was busy over further preparations, but only to
be interrupted by the sound of some one at the door giving three or four
sharp sniffs in rapid succession.  Then--"Pig!" came from inside.  "Oh,
I say, what a shame!  Might have woke a fellow up to have some too."

"'Tisn't for me," said Chris gruffly.

"Oh no!  I suppose not.  Who's it for, then?"

"The dad: he has been sitting up all night with that poor fellow.  I
thought he'd like a cup of coffee."

"Good boy," said Ned.  "I'll take _pig_ back."

A few minutes later the two boys were making their way through the
rapidly broadening morning, bearing a steaming mug of milkless coffee
towards the shed, but only to stop short on hearing a strangely harsh
voice talking slowly and solemnly for a few moments, before stopping
suddenly, to be followed by a few words from the doctor.

Then all was silent for some little time, before Chris whispered
sharply--

"Father!"

This brought the doctor to the entrance.

"Thanks," he said.  "Very thoughtful of you, Chris.  Go away now."

The boys hurried back to the lean-to and made up the fire, to sit
talking till the other occupants of the shanty began to stir, and the
rough breakfast was prepared.

"Been sitting up with the poor fellow all night, Chris?" said Mr
Bourne.  "Oh, he should have wakened me, and I would have relieved him
for half the watch."

The doctor was still in the shed, but he joined the rest when breakfast
was ready, and answered the inquiries of his companions.

"A hopeless case, I am afraid," he said, "but I shall fight it out to
the last.--What?  Is he sensible?" continued the doctor, in response to
a question from Wilton.  "At times, but for the most part he keeps
wandering about thirst and heat, and wanting to sleep.  The poor fellow
has evidently suffered terribly."

After breakfast the doctor returned to the shed, while the others found
business to do about the blighted plantations, but working in a dull,
despondent fashion, for the recollection of their previous day's
consultation about giving up was still strong in their minds.

"There, let it all go for the present," said Wilton, at last.  "It's no
use to talk about future plans without Lee being here."

But the doctor was too busy with his patient to do more than join them
at dinner, with no better report, for he felt that the man was gradually
sinking.  It was the same too at the evening meal, when the necessity of
some one sharing the night watch came up for discussion, the doctor
consenting to Mr Bourne taking the first half of the night while he
snatched a few hours' sleep.

The arrangement was carried out, with Doctor Lee ready and alert to take
his position by the sufferer's bed at midnight, when Bourne announced
that the patient had only moved once, to ask for water.

"I think he seems to be better.  He is fast asleep now," said Bourne,
after saying "Good-night!" and then he left the doctor to himself.

It was getting on towards morning when, making a faint rustling amongst
the Indian corn-husks, the doctor bent over and laid his cool hand upon
his patient's brow.

"Who's that?" came in a harsh voice.

"The doctor."

"Water."

This was supplied, and the sufferer lay very quiet for another hour, and
then, just as the first faint streaks of dawn appeared, the man asked
who was there in a stronger voice, and upon being told, said--

"Yes, that's right; come nearer.  I want to speak to you."

The doctor bent over his patient, whose voice as he spoke gradually grew
stronger and more emphatic, and he went on speaking eagerly till long
after sunrise, when he was silent for a few minutes, but only to begin
talking uneasily again.

But there was silence in the long shed that morning when Chris took in a
mug of coffee and came softly out again under the impression that his
father's patient was asleep; and when Wilton and Bourne came out they
heard this as the report of the stranger's state.

Breakfast time soon came, and the doctor joined them as before, ready to
answer the first question asked as to how his patient had passed the
night.

"For the most part talking."

"Then he is better?" cried Bourne.

"In a way--yes," replied the doctor solemnly, and every eye was fixed
upon him now, as Wilton said sharply--

"You mean that he is worse?"

"No: better for him, poor fellow," said the doctor sadly.  "Nothing
whatever could be done, and he was in horrible pain.  It is all over
now."

"You don't mean to say--" began Wilton, and stopped short.

"Dead?" said Bourne, in a solemn whisper.

"Yes," said the doctor gravely.  "The agony he was in passed away about
dawn, leaving him calm, patient, and quite in his right senses, talking
to me long and earnestly for quite three hours, before he turned away
and with a low restful sigh went off to sleep--to wake no more."

"You say he talked to you a good deal," said Bourne; "did he say
anything about how he came to be in such a terrible state?"

"Yes, he related everything to me, clearly," replied the doctor gravely.

"Hah!" cried Wilton.  "Poor fellow, he must have gone through a great
deal.  How did it all come to pass?"

"Give me time," said the doctor thoughtfully.  "I should like to lie
down and sleep for a few hours, for I have gone through a good deal
since you left us, Bourne.  To-night we must lay him to rest.
Afterwards I have a great deal that is very startling to tell you both--
to tell you all, I should say, for the boys may hear."



CHAPTER FIVE.

A PIECE OF SKIN.

It was late that same evening when the occupants of the shanty sat about
the rough board table.  The stranger had been laid in his last
resting-place, Mr Bourne had read the service over him, and the
American neighbour, who had been present, had stayed to partake of the
evening meal.

This latter had passed over almost in silence, all waiting then for the
communication the doctor was to make; but he sat still, thoughtful and
silent, till Griggs, after fidgeting a little in his chair, said--

"I can't help feeling a bit sorry, doctor, for bringing the poor fellow
over to you.  I never meant him to stay."

"You need no excuses, Griggs," said the doctor, rousing himself from his
musing fit.  "It was an act of Christian charity, and I am glad that we
were able to share it with you."

"That's right, and nicely spoken of you, doctor," said the American;
"but I wish we had been able to help the poor fellow sooner.  Here, I'm
burning to know how he got into such a state.  I s'pose he told you?"

"He told me a great deal," replied the doctor, "but the time was short,
his words hurried, and what he said has set me considering as to how
much is simple fact and how much the imagination of a diseased brain."

"Hah!" exclaimed the American.  "Then the best way will be for you to
tell us too, and then maybe we shall be able to help you sort it out,
and untangle the real thread from the touzly yarn."

"Exactly," said the doctor.  "Well, it seems that he was one of a dozen
adventurous prospectors whose brains had been excited by one of the old
legends respecting the discovery of gold by the old mission fathers in
one of the deserts between here and Arizona.  They banked their funds
together, purchased necessaries and provisions, and started with a mule
team and a large water-barrel furnished with pole and axles so that it
should act as its own wheels, revolving and bearing its own weight--a
contrivance, the poor fellow said, that answered capitally in the sandy
plains, but only proved a hindrance in the rocky ground."

"Not a bad idea," said Griggs, "if it had been all plain, for, as I
understand, it's want of water that has upset every expedition out that
way."

"When all was ready they started, well armed, as I understood him,
making for the south and west.  They had certain plans which they had
obtained from explorers, and went out in full hope of discovering not
only a new land of gold, but a city said to exist in the middle of one
of the deserts, a ruin now, but containing fabulous wealth amassed by
the emperor, cacique, or whatever he was called, and fostered by the old
mission fathers, who had made the city their home."

"Hah!" cried Griggs.  "This makes one's mouth water.  Go on, doctor."

The latter looked at him seriously, and then continued--

"All this sounded very clear and reasonable, but after a time there was
so much of the marvellous in the poor fellow's descriptions that I could
not help feeling that we were getting into the dreamland of an
enthusiast."

"Let us hear, Lee," said Wilton.

"To be sure," cried Griggs.

"I say that," said the doctor, "because, as I seemed to gather, the
adventurers had not been above a month upon their expedition before
misfortunes began to assail them, and he talked for long enough about
getting amongst Indians who seemed to be always on the watch to hinder
their advance."

"Yes," said Mr Bourne thoughtfully, "I have read that the Indian tribes
have had handed down to them by tradition the existence of great sacred
treasures which they are bound to protect, and which would have been
discovered long enough ago but for their watchfulness."

"Never mind the Injuns," said Griggs.  "You're sure to meet them if you
go south, and, treasure or no treasure, they are always on the kill and
rob system."

"I wish they wouldn't talk so much, but let father go on," whispered
Chris.

"They had fights desperate and many with these people," continued the
doctor, "but they pushed on, to find as they plunged further into the
desert that there were worse enemies to encounter."

"Oh, that's nonsense," cried Griggs; "he must have been off his head a
bit there.  It's the regular old cock-and-bull story about dragons
guarding the treasure.  I know those sort of things--magic and gammon."

"No," said the doctor, smiling; "the enemies he meant were drought,
heat, and fever, all of which helped to slay his brother adventurers.
Some perished at the hands of the Indians, but more from exhaustion and
disease, so that at last, after going through the most terrible
privations, he found himself the sole survivor."

"That's bad," said Griggs, "and bad at that.  But, I say, how long did
this take?"

"I don't know, and he could not explain.  Time seemed to be quite out of
his calculations.  It must have taken years, for he said that he was a
young and vigorous man when he started."

"But look here," said Griggs, "Murrica's a big place, and I s'pose he
joined Mexico on to it in his travels; but you could get over a deal of
ground in years.  How far away was it from here?"

"Distances seemed with him to be alike," continued the doctor.  "Much of
what he said in this respect seems to me to be all imagination, for he
talked of the vast unknown land that he and his companions had
penetrated, and in which they passed away, leaving him alone."

"Poor chap, to find out that the gold story was all a hatch-up, and that
he had given up the best years of his life in a great hunt after a
yellow nothing.  Well, go on, doctor."

"There is not much more to tell you," was the reply.

"Then I'm right," said Griggs; "he went through all that to find
nothing."

The doctor was silent for a short space, before he continued.

"No," he said; "you are wrong, according to the poor old adventurer's
account, and here comes the strange part of his story.  He said that he
believed he went raving mad after being forced to cover the remains of
his last companion with pieces of rock, and for a long time he could
think of nothing but getting back to civilisation; but the more he tried
the more he seemed to be led deeper and deeper into the great hot,
sandy, stony wilderness.  It was as if something from which he could not
escape kept on driving him to continue the search upon which he had
started, till one day he came upon a wider and more level plain of salt
and sand, while in the distance, far down upon the horizon, he could see
a clump of mountains, towards which he made his way, toiling on day
after day, week after week, as it seemed to him, and the range seemed to
be always receding with tantalising regularity, while he was parching
with thirst and the tops were covered with snow.

"At last, though, when he had been compelled to lie down and rest every
few steps from exhaustion, and after months of toil, he reached the foot
of the mountains."

"Poor fellow!" said Griggs.  "They must have been a long way off, and no
mistake.  In dreamland, I'm afraid."

"And I too," said the doctor.  "This part of his narrative is very
suggestive of a fever dream; but he spoke calmly, and as if he believed
every word to be true.  There was a simple earnestness, too, in the way
in which he told me of how, dried-up as he was, he revelled in the
ice-cold water that trickled down from the mountain-peaks in stream
after stream which only meandered for a few hundred yards before every
drop was soaked up in the burning sand."

"That's the worst of the salt plains southward," said Griggs quietly.

"I suppose so," said the doctor, "and this sounded very simple and
truthful, but it seemed to me that here fiction was a good deal mingled
with fact.  He went on to say that these were the mountains of which he
and his friends had been in search, for he was not long in discovering
now that those hills were composed of the richest gold ore, while in a
central tableland some two thousand feet up stood the remains of the
city of which he had been in search.

"This proved to be completely ruined, one mass of crumbling stone wall;
but every here and there he discovered proofs that the old inhabitants
had utilised the rich metal contained in the hills by which they were
surrounded.  The place had evidently been destroyed in some catastrophe,
in all probability by the attack of an enemy, for not a trace save
charred beams remained of the woodwork that must have been plentifully
used, and in many parts he found the scattered and gnawed bones of the
slain."

"I should like to explore that place, doctor and neighbours all," said
Griggs, "but I'm afraid that the nation of people who built that city
belonged to the imagination."

"That was my own idea," said the doctor gravely, "especially when the
poor fellow told me that he made his home there for years, taking
possession of a little temple-like place, covering the roof in with
cedar-boughs to keep off the sun, and living upon what he could secure
by means of his gun."

"And always getting a fresh supply of powder and shot from Noo York by
mail, eh, neighbours?"

"The narrative is most improbable," continued the doctor, "but it does
contain elements open to belief."

"But if he had discovered such treasure as that," said Wilton, "why
didn't he get back to civilisation, so as to profit by it?"

"To be sure," said Bourne.  "But what about the Indians who ought to
have been there to watch over the gold?"

"He did not mention them," replied the doctor; "but his reason for not
returning was that the poor fellow felt that he dared not attempt to go
through the same horrors that he had encountered on his way out.  He had
friends with him then, but now he was alone, weak, and wanting in
spirit.  In fact, much as he longed to get back to civilisation, he
dared not attempt the journey, but kept on putting it off for years."

"For years, eh?" said Griggs derisively.

"Yes, for years, in the hope of some travellers or prospectors
accidentally discovering the place.  At last, though, he seems to have
wakened up to the fact that if ever he was to see civilisation again it
must be by some effort of his own, and so he made the venture, to suffer
terribly, and finally crawl here to die, as we have seen."

"But he told his story," said Griggs, "and I don't know, doctor, but it
half seems to me as if you believe in the poor old lunatic."

"I told you in the beginning that I was somewhat disposed to credit his
history."

"Oh, come, Lee," cried Wilton.

"My dear Lee," cried Bourne.  "Why, this legend of treasure cities and
golden mountains is as old as the hills."

"Yes, I know.  I have heard it and read it time after time."

"And don't know any better now, doctor," cried Griggs.  "Oh, come, I
say, what is there in this story that makes you more ready to believe it
than any of the others?"

"The simple fact that I have seen and talked with the historian--one who
was ready to give me some tangible idea of the truth of his narration."

"Tangible?" cried Bourne.

"Yes; tangible."

"Why, he had got no specimens with him, had he?"

The doctor made no direct reply to the American's question, but went on
to tell that his patient had concluded his short history by thanking him
for his patient kindness.

"`My life has been a failure, doctor,' he said; `you can make yours a
great success.  Mine was used up in discovering the great treasure.  It
was the work of years and years.  You can go straight to the place by
the bearings I have marked down for you as I came back.  There, I give
you that for which I have died, glad to be at rest.  It is yours, and
yours alone.'

"I tried to draw his attention to another subject," continued the
doctor, but he smiled.

"`You think I am only a madman,' he said sadly.  `In your place I should
have thought the same.  You believe that the treasure is only in my
weary brain.  I am clearer now, and I can see by the way you look at me;
but it is true.  Take the skin belt from round my waist.  It is yours.
In it you will find what I brought from the hills.  There are a few
ounces, but where I broke the pieces off with a lump of stone--half
gold--there were tons upon tons.'

"I was not aware that he was wearing anything beneath his rags of skin,
but when to satisfy him I cut through and drew away his pouch-like belt,
I could feel inside it pieces of something hard."

"Gold!" cried Griggs excitedly, and the boys' eyes shone with
excitement.

"I don't know," said the doctor quietly.

"What, didn't you look?" cried Wilton.

"No; the exertion he made in trying to lift himself so that I could draw
away the belt was too much for him, and every thought went to the effort
to revive him from his swoon; but it was all in vain, the poor fellow
came to sufficiently to show that he was conscious, and caught my hand
in his to draw it towards where the belt lay.  He pressed my fingers
round it, and then lay gazing at me wildly as I bathed his face, till I
awoke to the feet that I was trying to revive the dead."

There was silence then for a few moments before Wilton spoke the words
that the two boys were eager to utter.

"I'm afraid it's all the poor fellow's dream," he said.  And then, "I
have no hunger or thirst for gold, but I must confess to a feeling of
excitement and desire to know what is in the belt."

"Open it then, and let's all see," said the doctor, and he drew what
looked like the well-rubbed and stained skin of a serpent about four
feet long from his jacket pocket, and laid it upon the table.

"Skin of a rattler--a copperhead, I should say," cried Griggs.  "Well,
not a bad idea for a cash belt.  There's something hard in it anyhow,"
he continued, as the doctor let the end drop.  "But I say, look here:
don't open it for a few moments, because I don't want for us to be
disappointed."

"I don't think we shall be," said Bourne.  "It is quite possible that in
his wanderings the poor fellow found gold, even if he magnified his
findings in his imagination."

"That's right, parson," cried Griggs, "but you don't see my point.  What
I meant about being disappointed was this--supposing this long shot-belt
sort of thing does hold so many nuggets of gold, what then?"

"What then?" cried Wilton.  "Why, it is gold."

"To be sure; but what about finding the tons, doctor?"

"By the bearings the poor fellow mentioned," replied Chris's father.

"Right again, sir," continued the American; "but the bearings--where are
they?"

Every one looked hard at the speaker in silence.

"I don't want to chuck cold water on what may mean a fortune for you,
doctor,--but look here: I'm not a sailor, but I do know that when you go
to find anything by the bearings you have a sort of map or chart with
compass points on it, and arrows and dots and marks to guide you in the
way you are to go.  What about them?  Had he a pocket-book anywhere?"

"Nothing of the kind," replied the doctor, "and I was surprised to find
his belt."

"Then the poor chap died a bit too soon, and he's taken his secret with
him, I should say."

"It seems so," said the doctor.  "I had forgotten all that," and the
boys drew a deep breath as they suffered each a sharp pang of
disappointment.

"Well, I thought it just as well to speak out, doctor," said Griggs.

"I wish you hadn't, sir," cried Wilton angrily.  "You seem to have
crushed out our hopes."

"Better to know the truth and the worst at once, my dear Wilton," said
Bourne.

"Oh, I don't know that," replied Wilton.  "The idea of discovering tons
of gold does stir one a bit."

"Hah!" sighed Chris, who was indulging in a golden dream, and he kicked
out one leg under the table, involuntarily catching Ned on the side of
the ankle in a way which made him utter a yell.

"Here, don't shout like that, young squire, because you're a bit
disappointed," cried Griggs; and without waiting for an explanation, he
continued, "Well, doctor, I vote that the belt be opened.  P'r'aps,
after all, these inside are only bits of glittering stuff such as some
people think is gold, but which is only iron and sulphur.  Anyhow, let's
look."

"Open it, Wilton," said the doctor, and the former sat with his elbows
on the table holding the snakeskin belt with his hands near the ends, so
that they hung down over the fingers, softly lissome, while the horny
middle sank in a curve.

"Let's have it, squire," cried Griggs.  "Go on ahead.  You look as if
you were making a plan for a suspension bridge over our creek when it's
full of water."

"The skin seems to have been slipped off the snake by turning it over
from the mouth," said Wilton, whose voice now sounded rather hoarse.
"Those ends are wonderfully soft too, as if the skin had been well
tanned."

"Not it," said Griggs; "say it was only dried in the sun, and then
rubbed soft.  There, let's see what is in it.  Hold it up by the tail,
and the nuggets'll all fall out."

Wilton did as he was told, but the nuggets--if there were any--did not
fall out, for the neck of the snake had been strained and dragged out
till it was thin like the tail part, and had doubtless shrunk to its
present proportions after the stones or metal had been carefully placed
inside.  The consequence was that Wilton shook and shook in vain.

"I should take out my knife, open it, and slit the skin right up, if it
was my job," said Griggs indifferently.

"No, no; it would be a pity," cried Bourne.

"I could do it," cried Chris--"if I might."

"Try, then," said Wilton, who hastily threw the long skin down, his
hands being wet with excitement, which showed in a deck upon his
forehead.

Chris eagerly snatched up the belt from where it lay, and then dropped
it, startled by the warning uttered loudly by Griggs.

"Take care!" he cried.  "That's a rattler's skin, with the head
complete.  P'r'aps there's both poison-fangs in the skull still."

"Ugh!" cried Chris.

"There, pick it up again, young un," cried Griggs, laughing.  "There's
nothing there but skin.  The poison-fangs went along with the flesh and
bones."

"Of course," said Chris shortly.  "How stupid!  Here, catch hold of the
tail, Ned."

The next moment the round belt was stretched out between them, and
Chris's hand as he passed it along the middle felt within it so many
hard round pieces of something about as large as marbles.  While
confining his attention to the one nearest the head, he worked it along
to the mouth, and let it fall with a sharp rap upon the table, to lie
shining dully in the light shed by the hanging spirit-lamp.

"Quartz with gold in it, and no mistake," cried Griggs eagerly.

"Gold, with some specks of quartz in it," cried the doctor, raising the
heavy roughly-rounded and hammered fragment nearer the lamp.

"Yes, three-quarters gold," said Wilton, while after taking it in his
fingers and handling it for a few minutes, Bourne laid it down with a
sigh.

"Let's have some more, Squire Christopher," cried Griggs; but the words
were hardly out of his lips before there was again a sharp rap on the
table, and then another and another, the boy continuing till a dozen of
the dull frosted-looking specimens lay upon the boards, shining with a
soft dull glow.

"Excessively rich ore," said the doctor, breaking the silence, after the
party had been busily turning over the pieces.

"And no doubt about it, doctor," cried Griggs.  "Well, that's yours,
anyhow."

"No," said the doctor quickly.  "You brought the poor fellow here."

"Right, but you doctored him and made him able to speak.  'Sides, he
gave it to you, and it's yours.  What's more, he gave you the hills
where the tons of it lie--somewhere."

"Yes, somewhere," said the doctor; "but where is that?"

"Where the poor old chap came from.  He ought to have given you the map
with all its bearings marked down.  Are you sure that he hadn't got it
in his pocket?"

"Certain," replied the doctor, "for he had no pockets."

"Well, sewed up then in his jacket?"

"I carefully examined that so as to get some information about him."

"Of course," said Griggs.  "Nothing more inside the sarpent, is there,
Squire Chris?"

"No," replied the boy, after running his hand along the soft skin until
it touched Ned's.  "It's all stuffed full of something of this last part
to keep the gold from getting any further."

"Yes, that's it," said Ned; "so as to keep the gold in the middle, and
leave the ends soft to tie together."

"It doesn't quite feel like that," said Chris thoughtfully.  "If that
had been meant, why wasn't there a sort of soft roll of something at the
head end?  I say, father, there is something like a roll."

"Draw it out then, my boy," was the reply.

"It won't come," said Chris.  "We shall have to slit the skin here."

"Nay, skin it out as if it were a bit of the rattler's body left in.
Pull the mouth open over the neck.  No, no; not like that.  Draw it open
a bit.  That's the way.  Now you'll do it, my lad."

Chris jumped at the American's hints, and acting upon them, found that
the task was comparatively easy, and in a few minutes a little roll of
soft cream-coloured leather, about an inch in diameter and eight or nine
long, carefully wound round with what looked like fine twine, but proved
to be a remarkably fine kind of animal integument, lay upon the table.

"Leather of some kind--I mean, soft skin," said Griggs, bending over the
little roll as it lay before them.  "Say, doctor, I'm beginning to think
you've got the bearings after all.  You must use your knife this time."

"Yes," said the doctor, taking out a many-bladed knife, and then pausing
to pass the object round before going farther.

But the roll was returned to him quickly in the impatience felt by all
to see whether it should prove to be a scroll containing valuable
information, and the doctor inserted the point of his knife beneath the
thin twine-like bond.  There was a sharp sound as it was divided, and
upon being unwound there before the party lay the edge of a roll of very
thin, carefully smoothed, yellowish skin, looking like badly-prepared
vellum, only feeling far more soft.

"A map, or writing," said Wilton hoarsely.

"A map, I'm sure," said Bourne.

"That's about it, sir," cried Griggs.  "Say, neighbour, you've made a
find, and the old man wasn't so mad as he looked."

"So it seems," said the doctor, rather breathless in spite of his calm
self-contained nature, accustomed to crises.

"Are we on the brink of a great discovery?" said Wilton.  "If so, how
does the matter stand?"

"It's the doctor's find," cried Griggs, and the two boys began to
breathe audibly as they rested their chins in their hands and seemed to
devour the little leather scroll.

"No; you brought the poor fellow here."

"Tchah!  What's the good of fighting about what we haven't got?" said
Griggs, laughing.  "What do you say to whacks?"

"What!" cried Bourne.

"Share and share alike all round, when there's anything to share."

"To be sure," said Wilton.

"And I say that the youngsters come into the swim; only look here, young
squires, if there's nothing you get nought."

"Agreed," cried the boys, in a breath.

"Agreed all," cried Griggs merrily.  "Now then, doctor, open the roll
and let's see; but before you begin, who'll buy my share for ten
cents?--What, all silent?  No buyers?  Tchah!  There's speculation!  I
won't sell it now.  Read away, doctor, and let's hear--or see."



CHAPTER SIX.

A WILD-GOOSE CHASE.

The doctor carefully opened the roll of skin upon the table, while Chris
turned the lamp up a little higher, keeping one eye upon his father's
actions the while and then scanning eagerly the plainly-seen marks which
pretty well covered the little guide.

For that it was evidently intended to be, so as to give future searchers
an easy means of reaching the treasure that the unfortunate adventurer
had discovered.

All gazed down at the skin, which had been smoothed out, and for some
minutes not a word was spoken.  But it did not take long for the whole
of the party to come to the same conclusion, and it was this--

That the adventurer had taken great pains in the preparation of his map
for another's benefit, in case he should not be able to seek for the
treasure himself, but that to make his chart available it needed
something more.

Griggs was the first to give his feelings words, which expressed the
thoughts of the rest exactly.

"This is all very well," he said, as he wrinkled his brow and scratched
his head viciously, "and it's very nicely done for a man who seems to
have begun by making his own makeshift for paper, and then his own pen
and ink.  What do you make this skin to be, doctor?"

"The nearest guess I can give is that it is the skin of a jack-rabbit
that has been pegged-out tightly and dried in the sun."

"Same here," said Griggs; "but what about the ink?"

"Ah, that looks like charcoal ground very fine, mixed with water and
some kind of tree gum, and painted on with a pointed piece of wood."

"That's just what I thought it might be," cried Griggs, "and a deal of
trouble the poor fellow has taken with it.  Look here, neighbours, east
and west and north and south plain enough.  What does he say
here?--`Des--' Yes, that's right enough, and means desert.  Plenty of it
too.  And what's here?--`No water.'  Of course, and over and over again,
`N.W.'  That means no water, of course.  Mountains under these stars.
Plenty of 'em too.  More desert, and then three stars set triangle
fashion about what looks like a square box with some one's name on it."

"No," cried both boys together; "it's `temple.'"

"So it is, boys," cried Griggs, "and these dots all round it--I mean all
square about it, must mean the city walls.  Well, that's clear enough."

"Look there," cried Chris.

"Yes, I'm looking," said Griggs.  "What is it?"

"That big W," said Chris.  "That must mean water or well."

"Very likely, my boy," said the doctor.

"And these square bits must mean houses, I s'pose," continued Griggs.
"Well, it's a prettily-done, careful sort of map, made under
difficulties.  Mountains here and mountains there, and all the rest
desert.  But he means whoever uses the map to go straight for the place,
by sticking in all these little arrows right away from the north-east
corner across the desert to the temple."

"Yes, that's the way to go, plainly enough," cried Bourne.

"That's what I thought, neighbour."

"Well, then, what are you finding fault about?" cried Wilton sharply.
"You talk as if you despised it."

"Oh no, not I, squire.  It's a very pretty little map, and took the poor
chap a long time to do; but it seems to me that it's no good at all."

"I don't understand you," said Wilton sharply.  "Look here, he gives a
starting-place marked with a big dot, and the little arrows go right
across to the three mountains and the temple."

"That is how he described it to me," said the doctor.

"Just so, sir.  That's how I understand it, neighbours; but what then?"

"Why, of course!" came in chorus, as every one at the table grasped the
hitch that the American had seen.

"Ah, you all hit it now," said Griggs, laughing.

"I think I understand what you mean," said the doctor thoughtfully.

"So do I," came in chorus, and then Bourne said quickly--

"Suppose you speak out and say what you mean, Lee."

"It seems to me," said the doctor gravely, "that though this chart has
been prepared so carefully, and points out the trend of the deserts and
mountains, and also where the gold-hills, the city, and the temple
stand, while the points of the compass are shown as well, it might be a
chart of any part of the country, a mere patch, or a territory of great
extent."

"That's so, doctor," interposed Griggs; "but you haven't quite hit it
yet."

"No, but I was coming to your point directly.  You mean that the map
gives us no hint of the direction in which the gold-hills lie."

"Now you've hit it right in the bull's-eye, doctor," cried Griggs.
"That's it.  Say we made up our minds to go and look for it, starting
from here, are we to begin north, south, or east?  Couldn't go very far
west, because that would mean going straight out to sea."

"Of course--of course!" was chorused.

"But we could find the place, after all," cried Chris excitedly.

"How?" said Wilton.

"Mr Griggs can tell us which direction the poor old fellow was coming
from."

"No, he can't," said the personage spoken of.  "He was zig-zagging about
all sorts of ways, and more than once after a stumble I saw him get upon
his legs and go back the same way he came, as if he was half blind."

"Oh!" cried Chris, in a disappointed tone.

"You meant, young squire, that if I could tell you the direction from
which he had come, all we should have to do would be to go right along
his track till we saw the three mountains?"

"Yes, that is something like what I thought," said Chris, who felt
damped.

"Wouldn't work, youngster," cried Griggs.  "Even if he had come on the
last day in a straight line that wouldn't help us about how he came on
the other days; and as to his trail--why, the poor old fellow had been
on the tramp for years.  Look here, all of you; I'll give you another
chance for a spec.  I'll take five cents for my share.  Who'll buy?
Don't all speak at once.  What, no one?  Well, you are a poor lot!  Only
five cents.  Well, never mind; if you won't make yourselves rich it's no
fault of mine.  I'll keep my share myself in a goose-quill stopped up at
the end with wax--when I get it."

"I should very much have liked to go in search of that place," said
Wilton, who hardly heard their American neighbour's words.

"And I too," said Bourne.  "Setting aside the gold discovery, it would
be most interesting to visit the relics of the ancient city."

"I could do without seeing the old place," said Griggs dryly.  "Depend
upon it, you'd find it terribly out of repair.  I should be dead on the
gold.  How do you feel, doctor?"

"I should like to explore the old place," he replied, "but I certainly
should make a point of getting all the gold I could."

"Then why not try and find the spot?" cried Chris.  "It must be
somewhere south."

"Yes," cried Ned.  "Oh, father, don't let's give up without a good try
to find it."

The doctor laughed at the boy's eagerness.

"Somewhere due south," he said; "a nice vague direction.  Somewhere due
south may mean anywhere between here and Cape Horn."

"No, no, father," cried Chris; "not so far as that.  I haven't forgotten
all my geography since I've been here, and I know that there are plenty
of desert regions such as that poor fellow may have been wandering in
between here and Panama."

"Hear, hear!" cried Griggs.  "But give us one or two, squire."

Chris grew red and uncomfortable, but he caught his father's eye looking
keenly at him, and he spoke out.

"I don't know about being exactly south," he said.  "Perhaps some of the
places lie east; but the old man might have been wandering in the
mountainous parts of Colorado or Lower California, or--or--"

"New Mexico," whispered Ned.

"Yes, New Mexico, or California, or perhaps have got to Mexico itself."

"Well done, our side!" cried Griggs, thumping the table.  "Three cheers
for our own private professor of geography.  To be sure, there's desert
land in all those places, as I've learned myself from fellows who have
been there.  But what's Arizona done to be left out in the cold?"

"In the sun, you mean," cried Chris eagerly.  "That's the hottest and
dryest place of all of them."

"To be sure," said the doctor--"the arid zone."

"Dessay it's true," said Griggs.  "I vote we go and see."

"Why not Lower California, or one of the other States?" said the doctor
dryly.

"To be sure, why not?" said Griggs, and the boys, who smelt change in
the air, thumped the table.

"Quiet, quiet, boys!" said the doctor sternly.  "I'm afraid, neighbour
Griggs, that your plantation would suffer a good deal during your
absence on such a wild-goose chase."

"What!  My plantation suffer?" cried Griggs, chuckling.  "Oh, come,
that's too good a joke, doctor!  Suffer?  Have you been round it
lately?"

"Not for a year past," was the reply.  "I've been too busy slaving over
our own."

"Then you don't know.  Why, my good neighbour, it's in nearly as bad a
condition as that poor old fellow we have just buried."

"Have you tried to sell it to some immigrant?"

"Have I tried to swindle some poor fellow just come into the country?"
cried Griggs sharply.  "No, I haven't.  I don't set up for being much of
a citizen, but, 'pon my word, doctor, I wouldn't be such a brute as to
even give it to a man on condition that he would live there and farm it.
Your joint plantation here is bad enough, but my bit's ten times
worse."

"I join issue there," cried Wilton sharply; "it can't be."

"Oh, can't it!" cried the American.  "You don't know what it's took out
of me.  Why, I'd have pitched the whole thing up a couple of years ago
if it hadn't been for you three here."

"What had we to do with it?" said Bourne sharply.

"Everything.  I used to see you folk and these boys plodding along,
working like niggers, no matter how your crops turned out, and waiting
patiently for better times to come."

"Well, what of that?" said Wilton.  "Of course we wanted to get on."

"So did I, squire, and seeing you all keep at it so when I wanted to
chuck up, I pitched into myself and called him--this chap, 'Thaniel
Griggs, you know--all the idle, lazy scallywags and loafers I could
think of, and made him--'Thaniel, you know--so ashamed of himself that
he worked harder than ever.  `They've all cut their eye-teeth, Griggy,
my boy,' I said, `and they wouldn't keep on if there wasn't some good to
come out of it by and by,' and after that I worked away.  But now you
all talk of giving up, and say you've proved that there's no good in the
place, what's the use of my niggering away by myself?"

"You'd sooner go on such a wild, harum-scarum search as this, eh?" said
the doctor, looking at the tall, sun-burnt man grimly.

"To be sure I would.  There'd be some fun and adventure in it."

"And risk."

"Well, yes, neighbour; I don't expect it would be all honey.  There'd be
some mustard and cayenne in it too."

"And danger of wasting your life as that poor fellow yonder did his."

"Some," said the American coolly.  "You can't make fortunes without a
bit of a fight.  I came here to this place to make mine, but there's no
stuff here to make it of.  If we should find the gold-hills now, that
would be something like.  The fortune's already made.  All it wants is
for us to go and pack it up and bring it away."

"To find it first," said Ned's father bitterly.

"Nay, it's already found, parson.  The poor old boy found it, and gave
the job over to the doctor here, along with those title-deeds."

"Which don't say where the land lies."

"Oh, never mind that.  I boggled about it at first, and thought it was a
regular blind lead.  But I don't now.  Amurrykee isn't such a big place
as all that comes to.  There's the gold somewhere, and we've got some
sort of a guide as well as the right to it.  We're none of us so old
that we can't afford to spend a few years, if it's necessary, in hunting
through first one desert and then another.  Can't you see what a chance
we shall have?"

"I must confess I do not," said the doctor.

"Well, I do, sir.  We shall have those places all to ourselves.
There'll be no one to complain of our making footmarks over their
gardens and strawberry-patches."

"What about the Indians, Mr Griggs?" asked Bourne.

"The Injun?  Yes, there's the Injun, but we shouldn't go as one.  We
should be half-a-dozen, and if the 'foresaid Injun takes my advice he'll
stop at home and leave me alone.  I ain't got more pluck in me than most
fellows have, but though I called 'Thaniel Griggs all the lazy coons I
could lay my tongue to, I've a great respect for that young man.
Selfish or not, I like him better than any fellow in this country, and I
should no more mind drawing a straight bead on the savage who tried to
kill him than I should mind putting my heel on a sleeping rattler's head
while I drew my knife and 'capitated him.  There, now."

"Self-preservation's the first law of nature, friend Griggs," said
Wilton.

"Is it, now?" replied the American.  "Then all I can say is that number
two and all the rest of her laws have got to be very good ones if they
come up to number first, sir.  Oh, I shouldn't stop for no Injuns if I
made up my mind to go, sirree.  I should chance that, practise up my
shooting, and never go a step without having my rifle charged in both
barrels."

"But can't you see that the chances are very much against any one
finding this place?"

"No, sir.  It'll be a tight job, no doubt; but what one man could do,
going without the slightest idee where to go nor what there was to find,
surely half-a-dozen of us, counting the young nippers in, could do,
knowing that the gold's there waiting for us, and that we've only got to
find the right spot."

"Only!" said Bourne sadly.

"Yes, sir, only.  There, if I talk much more I shall want to go back
home to see if there is one ripe orange on my plantation that I can
suck.  So I'll just put my opinions down straight.  Those is them--I
say, Squire Ned, that's bad grammar, ain't it?"

"Horrible," replied the boy, laughing.

"Never mind; you understood it.  Look here, gentlemen, there's a fine
chance here for a fortune, and I say, have a try for it, and take me
with you to help, share and share alike.  I'll work with you, fight for
you, and share all the trouble like a man.  It's worth the try, and I
think so much of it that if you say downright that you won't go I shall
see if I can find a trusty mate, and go myself.  There, that's all."

Griggs threw himself back on his seat so as to get his back square
against the wall, tilting the stool on two legs, and looked sharply
round the table, and then at Wilton, who had risen and come round to him
to offer his hand.

The American looked at the long brown fingers and then up in their
owner's face.

"What's that for?" he said.  "Want me to shake, and then go home,
because you're tired of me?"

"No," cried Wilton fiercely.  "It's for you to give me yours.  I say
you're right, Griggs.  The place must be found, and I'll go with you to
work and fight, and through thick and thin, for I believe in you as a
true man.  I'll go with you, and we'll find the treasure or come back,
worn out, to die."

"Not we!" cried the American, seizing Wilton's hand in his strong grip.
"I'm with you, to stick to you, Mister Wilton, like a brother man.  I'm
ready to start with you to-morrow, if you like, if the doctor here will
hand over that dockyment.--Any more going on?"

The two boys sprang to their feet and looked at their fathers, who spoke
as one man.  "Sit down, boys!" they cried.

"Why, you rash young reprobate," cried the doctor.  "Do you mean to tell
me that you'd go off on this mad journey without asking my leave?"

"No, father, of course not.  Ned wouldn't either without Mr Bourne's
consent; but I want to go with old Griggs, who has always been such a
good fellow to us, and I feel sure you and Mr Bourne both mean to go
too."

"What makes you say that, sir?" cried the doctor sternly.

"Oh, first because Mr Wilton's going, and you'd neither of you like him
to go without you."

"Any other reason, sir?"

"Yes, father.  It seems to me that as we are going away to make a fresh
start, it would be much better to go in search of this treasure than to
be sailing straight back to England, not knowing what we should do when
we got there."

"Oh, that's what you think, is it, sir?" said the doctor.--"By your
leave, Bourne!--Now, Master Ned, pray what do you think about it all?"

"Oh," cried the boy addressed, speaking to the doctor, but looking hard
and searchingly in his father's face, "I want to go with Chris, of
course, and I think just the same as he does.  Why, it would be grand,
Mr Lee.  We should have no end of adventures, and see the beautiful
country."

"And the dismal desert.  Why, you romantic young dreamer!  You'll never
see a place south of here half so beautiful."

"But what's the good of its being beautiful if we can't live upon it?"

"Then you'd be glad to go?"

"Oh yes, sir," cried Ned.

"Humph!  Well, Bourne, it seems then that you and I will have to go back
to England empty and alone."

"No, you won't, father," said Chris quickly.  "I shouldn't go without
you went too."

"And I shouldn't either, father," said Ned huskily, as he went and stood
behind his father with his hands resting on Bourne's shoulders.

"Here, I wish you two young fellows had held your tongues," said Griggs
roughly, "because it's like filling a man full of pleasure, and then
making a hole and letting it all out again.  But it's all right, lads,
and thankye all the same.  No, you can't go away and leave your two
dads; it wouldn't be right, and you couldn't expect to prosper if you
did.  But I wish they'd think as we do, and say they'd go and chance it.
Raally, doctor, and raally, Mr Bourne, I'd go to bed and sleep on it.
P'r'aps you'd feel a bit different in the morning.  What do you say?"

The doctor was silent for a few moments, gazing full in the American's
face, the latter receiving the look without blenching.

"Let me see, Mr Griggs," he said; "I've known you nearly four years,
haven't I?"

"Four years, four months, doctor, and that's just as long as I've known
you."

"Yes," said the doctor, at last.  "Bourne, what do you say to all this--
shall we go and sleep on it?"

The two boys caught hands and gazed hard at Ned's father, who was also
silent for a few moments, before he drew a deep breath and said firmly--

"Yes, Lee, old friend, I say let us go to rest now, think deeply, and as
we should, over what may mean success or failure, and decide in the
morning what we ought to do."

"Shout, boys," cried Griggs, springing up.  "Not one of your English
hoo-roars, but a regular tiger--_ragh_--_ragh_--_ragh_!  That's your
sort.  They mean to go."

"Yes, Griggs, old neighbour," said the doctor; "in spite of all the
terrible obstacles I can see plainly in our path, I feel that to-morrow
morning my friend and I will have made up our minds that this is too
great a thing to give up easily, and that we shall decide to go."



CHAPTER SEVEN.

ALL FOR GOLD.

It was not until the doctor rapped sharply at the wooden partition that
separated the boys' from the men's quarters at the shanty, that the
murmuring buzz ceased.  "Look here, you two," he said; "if you don't
want to sleep we do, so just be quiet.  It's somewhere about one
o'clock, and when getting-up time comes you'll want to sleep."

"All right, father," said Chris, in a very wakeful tone; "we won't talk
any more."

But they did, in a whisper, for something in the way of recrimination
began.

"It was all your fault," said Ned.  "I wanted to go to sleep hours ago,
but you would keep beginning again about the bothering old chart."

"Oh come, I like that!" replied Chris.  "Who kept on wondering whether
we should meet Indians, and whether they scalped people now!"

"Well, yes, I did say something about that.  Only fancy, though, how
horrid!"

"Shan't!  We're to go to sleep.  I say, though, Ned; think we shall
really get away from this bothering old hoeing and weeding and killing
blight?"

"Can't think: I'm nearly asleep."

"Oh, what a thumper!  You're as wide awake as I am."

_S-n-n-o-r-r-r-e_!

"Gammon!"

"Oh!" and a sudden jump.

"What's the matter?"

"You stuck a pin into my leg."

"Must have been a mosquito."

"I'll skeeter you to-morrow morning, Master Chris!"

"Don't wait: do it now!"  (defiantly.)

"You coward!  You know that if I hit at you the doctor would jump up in
a rage."

"No, he wouldn't, because we'd creep out through the open door and go
into the shed.  Come on; I'm ready."

"I shan't.  I want to sleep."

"I don't.  I can't.  I feel all over of a tingle.  I should like a
set-to.  Come on out, and then I should like you to skeeter me."

"Don't be a fool, Chris.  Let's go to sleep and get ready for to-morrow.
My word, what a day we shall have!  It seems wonderful.  I can hardly
believe it's true."

"That is," said Chris, for there was an angry rap on the partition,
given by the doctor, who felt as nervously excited as the two boys.

The final rap brought calm, though, sending the lads off into a deep
sleep which lasted till sunrise, when they stepped out of their rough
bunks, hurried down to the water-pool to have a bathe, and had just
finished bathing when Chris caught sight of the tall gaunt figure of the
American striding through the Bartlett-pear plantation.

"_Coo-ee_!" cried Chris.

"Oh, there you are, young 'uns," came in reply.  "Mornin'.  Well, what
time will you be ready to start?"

"Directly after breakfast," cried Chris.

"Packed up your duds?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, look sharp."

"All right.  But if we go--"

"_But if_!  Why, we are going."

"I hope so," cried Ned.  "But I say, Griggs, what are you going to do
about your shanty?  Are you going to lock it up and leave the key with
the nearest neighbour?"

"Tchah!  Nonsense!  I'm going to put together what I want in a mule-car,
ready for hitching the two kickers on, and then I'm going to take a
hammer and a bag of spikes, and nail up the door and window.  I shall
advise your gov'nors to do the same here."

"But of course we shall take no end of things with us," said Chris.

"You won't, my lad.  We shall load up two or three cars, but it will be
with meal and tinned meat, bacon and ham.  Tea, coffee, and sugar, of
course.  Ammunition, a few tools, a waterproof or two, and a tent.
That's all."

"What about clothes?"

"Oh, we shall bring them on our backs.  It's going to be light
marching-order, I can tell you."

"That won't matter," said Ned.  "I shall like it.  I say, Griggs, it'll
be like one long jolly great picnic."

"Yes, if we keep well, and the Indians let us alone."

"But, shall we meet Indians, Griggs?" cried Chris excitedly.

"Not we.  Sooner go miles round; but they'll meet us, I expect."

"Oh!" said Chris thoughtfully.  "But what for?"

"To get our mules and carts, and all we have with us."

"But what about ourselves?"

"Oh, we're no use to them," said the American dryly.  "They'll pitch us
aside as so much rubbish--if we'll let 'em."

"Get on!" cried Ned.  "He's talking like that to frighten us.  But I
say, Griggs, what about the gold?"

"Well, what about it?"

"If there's tons upon tons of it, how are we going to bring it away?"

"Ah, yes.  I've been thinking about that," said the American dryly, "and
I've settled upon this."

"Yes!  What?" cried the boys eagerly.

"To find it first.  It's of no use to settle how you'll cook your bird
till you've caught it."

"But we couldn't expect the mules to drag tons of metal across the
desert."

"Oh yes, we could, easily.  We might expect a deal more than that; but
they wouldn't do it."

"Get out!  He's laughing at us, Ned."

"Of course I was.  Here, are your governors up yet?"

"They weren't when we came out," replied Chris.

"Well, I wonder at them, I dew," said Griggs.  "Sleeping, with an idea
like this to think about.  I never had a wink all night.  Say, this is
going to be a change from pruning and weeding, eh?"

"Oh, it's glorious--splendid!" cried the boys.

"Is it?  Wait a bit.  Now come on; you're dressed enough, ain't you?"

"Yes, quite right now."

"Then let's go and hunt up the gov'nors.  I want to know whether they
really mean business."

"Oh yes, they'll go," cried Chris.

"Think so?"

"I feel sure of it."

"So do I," added Ned.  "My father's quite eager to go."

"_Bagh_!" cried Griggs.  "I was afraid that after sleeping on it they'd
draw back.  This is good news, boys, for, oh, how tired I am of drudging
on here for nothing!  Come on."

There was not much need for coming on.  They had not gone half-way to
the big shanty before they came suddenly upon the doctor and his two
friends, who met them with the customary good-morning.

"Well, Mr Griggs," said the doctor, "you've come to say that the idea
of last night is wild and impossible."

"Who told you so, sir?" cried the young American.

"No one.  I only came to that conclusion."

"Then you thought wrong, sir, and perhaps it was what you had made up
your mind to yourself."

"Oh no, Griggs.  We have decided quite the contrary.  If there is any
drawing back it will be on your side."

"That's right then, sir.  When do we start?"

"As soon as we have settled our affairs and bought the necessary
stores."

"But we shall try and find a purchaser for the plantation--of course, at
a reasonable price," said Bourne.  "Just about the value of what we have
put into the place, the building and the tools."

"If we wait for that, gentlemen," said Griggs, "we shall never get off.
But you try."

"Yes, we will try," said the doctor.  "Of course it will be amongst the
settlers a few miles round."

This was decided upon, and the doctor and Bourne rode off that morning,
making a tour of about thirty miles from plantation to plantation,
before they returned, tired out, to the evening meal, and found Griggs
busy with Wilton and the boys just finishing up the task of thoroughly
cleaning and oiling the firearms.

"Back again, then?" said Griggs.  "Will you want my hammer and spikes,
gentlemen?"

"Your hammer and spikes?" cried the doctor, wonderingly.  "What for?"

"To lock up your doors and windows here, same as I'm going to do mine."

"Oh, I see," said the doctor.  "Yes, I expect we shall."

"Didn't find no customers then, sir?"

"Customers?" cried the doctor querulously.  "Every one wanted to sell.
My impression was that not one settler we broached the subject to would
have taken our plantation as a gift."

"That's about how it stands, sir," said Griggs.  "They wouldn't.  Why
should they?  It would only make them more work and less profit.  You do
as I do, sir--I mean, as I'm going to do: nail up the doors and
shutters.  I don't suppose any one would meddle with the shanty.  If he
did he couldn't take away the land, so it would be here all right if you
ever came back and wanted it, which isn't likely, is it?"

"Not at all," said Bourne emphatically.

"Didn't say you were going gold-hunting, I s'pose, sir?" asked Griggs.

"Not exactly."

"Then some one did ask questions?"

"Everybody did," replied the doctor, "and I said we were going
prospecting."

"Oh, you might have said the real thing, sir.  They sneer at you as much
for one as for t'other.  But that don't matter.  I don't know, though:
if they knew as much as we know we should have the whole settlement
after us; not that I should mind every one I know having a nibble at the
yellow cake, but where half-a-dozen people might manage to find enough
water, fifty folk would die of thirst, and perhaps tell us it was all
our fault."

"Yes, the smaller our party the better, I say," said Bourne.

"Which means I'd better stop out of it, sir," said Griggs shortly.

"No, it does not, Griggs," cried the doctor warmly.  "Cer-tain-ly not,"
added Bourne.  "You will come with us, of course."

"Well, I--"

"That'll do, Griggs; no backing out," said Wilton shortly.--"Now then,
what about stores?"

"I propose that two of us decide what money will be necessary, and then
go over to Mainton with two mule-carts and spend it on such things as we
shall want.  That will take a week, including the obtaining a
sufficiency of ammunition."

"Which means plenty, gentlemen, for we might be regularly besieged in
our wagon, and have to beat the Injuns off."

"I don't anticipate that," replied the doctor calmly, while the boys
felt their nerves tingle; "but we will be prepared.  Then we shall come
back--I mean those who undertake the task will come back, and that will
be all that is necessary to be done, save having one or two good
discussions as to the route we shall take.  Then we'll start upon our
wild quest."

"Wild indeed, I'm afraid," said Bourne.

"Nay!  Not it," cried Griggs.  "We've got plenty of time."

"And plenty of room," said Wilton, laughing.

"To be sure we have," continued Griggs.  "Lookye here, I've been
thinking this little bit of a job over, and it seems to me as plain as A
B C."

"Indeed!" said the doctor, smiling.  "How do you make that out?"

"This way.  We've got the map of the part where it is."

"Certainly, and all we've got to find out is whereabouts that part
lies."

"Of course: and there lies the difficulty."

"Difficulty, doctor?  Not it.  Now, just look here.  We've got, say,
three States where it's likely to be.  Say, at a guess, Colorado,
Arizona, and New Mexico."

"Oh yes, and California, Texas, and you can join on Old Mexico."

"Nay, nay; the three I said will do for a beginning.  If neither of them
turns out right we'll begin on one of the others.  Say, we give two or
three years apiece to the first lot.  We've plenty of time, as
aforesaid."

"Then you are going to set aside nine years of our lives to begin with,
and when they are gone--wasted--begin another nine years?"

"Time won't be wasted, doctor; we shall have found out something or
another."

"The question seems to me," said Bourne, "is it worth the trouble?"

"If we'd got to spend nine more years in making a fortune here, doctor,
we shouldn't think the time too long."

"Perhaps not."

"Well, it wouldn't be in getting the gold, even if it took nine years,
and if we're lucky it mightn't take nine months.  It's all chance
whether we hit on the right trail to begin with or at the last."

"It's a wild and desperate adventure," said the doctor sternly, "and
only excusable on the ground that we have wasted years upon this
plantation and are now in a desperate state."

"Oh, don't call it desperate, doctor.  We're going on a job that's going
to be full of fun.  We've only got to hold together pluckily to do it.
Why, it's as easy as easy."

"To go and seek blindly through three great States for the spot
delineated on this rough map?" cried Bourne.

"We shan't go blindly, sir; you may depend on that.  We shall keep our
eyes open pretty wide," said Griggs, with a merry look at the boys.
"Now, look here, gentlemen, I tell you I've been thinking all this out,
and it seems to me that we can cut it all down into a small patch."

"How?" said the doctor.

"By getting rid of all the outside useless bits of the job."

"I don't understand you," cried Wilton.  "Hard or easy, I've made up my
mind to see the thing through; but just explain a little more what you
mean, Griggs."

"That's right enough, sir; I will.  Now, look here; we've got our map,
or plan, or whatever you call it."

"Yes," said Bourne.

"It's not very good writing, nor yet nicely finished off, but to my mind
one thing's very clear, and it's this: wherever the ruined city is it
must be somewhere that hasn't been settled by emigrants and ranchers."

"Certainly," cried the doctor; "that's clear."

"Very well, then, sir; if you think a moment you'll see that you clear
away thousands o' square miles of settled country at once, where we
needn't go to look."

"Yes, he's right there," said Bourne.  "Go on, Griggs."

"Give me time, sir.  Well, then, the only parts we've got to search are
those where the country's quite wild, and no one been there but
Indians."

"Exactly," said the doctor.

"Then the parts we have got to search are not half so big already, being
only the bad desert lands."

"Good," cried Wilton.

"Here's where the map comes in now, gentlemen," continued Griggs.  "What
does it say on it--what does it show?"

"Very little," replied Bourne.

"That's true, sir.  I could make a better map myself; but it does show
one thing, and that is that the gold city lies amongst the mountains."

"Yes, quite true," said the doctor.

"Then here you are, sir: if the gold city lies amongst the mountains it
can't be any good for us to go hunting for it among the plains."

"Of course not."

"There you are, then, sir.  Look, as the proper maps'll show you, what a
big hunch of these three States we're going to search is marked off as
prairie-land."

"To be sure."

"Then that as good as halves what we've got to go over again.  We've got
to make for the mountain-path always till we find those three
sugar-loafy bits the poor fellow marked down.  Why, neighbour, we're
cutting off a lot of pieces that we shan't need to meddle with.  You
see, it's coming down and getting less every time we begin to work."

"There's a deal in what you say," said the doctor thoughtfully, "but the
country is immense."

"So was the Atlantic Ocean, sir, when Mr Christopher Columbus set sail
in his ship to find land.  That was jumping right into the darkness."

"Hear, hear!" cried Bourne and Wilton together, and the boys hammered
the table.

"Yes," said the doctor, more thoughtfully, "and he had nothing but a
kind of faith to work on.  You are quite right, Griggs; we have some
grounds to go upon."

"Instead of deep water, sir," said the American, grinning.

"And you being captain of the expedition, Lee," cried Wilton, "will have
a far better chance of success."

"Shall I?  I don't see why."

"You will, because you'll have a smaller crew, one that will not rise in
mutiny against you and want to go back."

"How do I know that?" said the doctor dryly.

"Because we promise you, to a man--and boy--eh, Chris--Ned?--that we'll
stick to you to the end."

"Of course," cried the boys together; while the others said, "Hear,
hear!"

"That's all very well," said the doctor dryly.  "We're sitting here
comfortably at this table, and in this shanty, and rough as it is we
have found it a comfortable home.  We've had our evening meal, and we're
going to lie down for a good night's rest.  But wait till some day when
we're all worn out with hunger and fatigue--out, perhaps, in some
thirsty desert--without a roof to cover us, and surrounded by dangers
such as at the present time we cannot conceive.  How will you feel
then--what will you say then?"

"Never say die, father," cried Chris.

"Britons never shall be slaves," cried Ned.

"Nor Yankee Doodles neither, doctor," cried Griggs, laughing.

"I say we'll all stick to our captain like men," said Wilton warmly.

"And I that I shall clap you on the shoulder, Lee, and say, Thank
goodness, we've fought through our troubles so far, and that, please
goodness, we'll go on bravely to the end."

"Hah!" exclaimed the doctor, uttering a long-drawn sigh.  "Yes, I find I
shall be better off than Columbus, and I begin to feel that with such
help I shall have a much easier task.  There: we'll go.  Our friend
Griggs has put quite a different complexion on the expedition, and I
begin to think now that all we have to do is to keep on till we find the
ruined city."

"If it exists," said Bourne.

"If it exists?  Oh, it must exist, if you can say that of a dead city,"
cried Wilton.

"The poor fellow we buried may have invented it all, being so bent upon
his search, and gone crazy at last and made up that chart out of his own
head."

"No," said the doctor thoughtfully.  "I had the advantage of you others
in being with him during his last moments, and hearing him talk calmly
and sensibly to the end.  He had suffered horribly from fever, and
doubtless had been delirious again and again, but that chart was the
work of no madman; half-an-hour's conversation with him satisfied me
that he knew perfectly well what he was talking about, and, after all
said and done, there is nothing preposterous in what he told me.  We
have had proofs enough of there being rich gold-loving nations in North,
South, and Central America who built great temples--the Mexicans, the
Peruvians, and the nations who have left the huge ruins in Yucatan.  I
do not see why there should not be another gold city and temple here."

"Here!" said Bourne dryly.  "Where?"

"In the desert place among the mountains that we are going to find, my
dear sir," said the doctor firmly.

"_Bagh!  Bagh!  Bagh!  Bagh_!" roared Griggs enthusiastically, and the
boys joined in the "tiger," as he called it.

"Don't say any more, doctor," he cried.  "That's enough.  I began to
think you were playing fast and loose, and I said to myself, Doctor's
got too much shilly-shally, willy-nilly in him to make a good leader of
this expedition, but I don't now.  I can see farther than I did, and
that you've been weighing it all over and looking before you leaped.
And that's the right way to succeed.  Gentlemen, and you two youngsters,
we've got a grand captain--one that can lead us and guide us, and cure
us, and set us up when we're down.  What more can we want?  We're sure
to succeed.  I won't sell my share now for anything."

There was a fresh cheer at this, and the party broke up to take the
necessary rest.

"Ned," said Chris, after they had been in bed a short time, "we're off."

"Yes," said Ned.  "_Bagh!  Bagh!  Bagh_! as Griggs has it."

"Hush, or you'll wake my dad."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

SHUTTING UP SHOP.

"I didn't believe we ever should start," said Chris, one morning at
daybreak.

"But you were wrong," said Ned, "and here's good-bye to the old place."

It was a month later, during which time the journey had been made to the
nearest town, the stores and other necessaries purchased, and after
preparations which had lasted till midnight, every one had declared that
there was nothing else to be done, and all had lain down to sleep,
Griggs included, he having decided to stay at the ranch for the last
night, after bringing over his baggage and animals, and he had by a
gruesome kind of choice elected to sleep in the long shed.

"Where the poor old adventurer was put," he said, "and that will make me
dream about him and perhaps have some happy thoughts about the best way
to go."

There were not many farewells to bid, for the settlers at the nearest
plantations were scattered widely about the district, and all for the
most part too much worried about their own disappointments to pay much
heed to a few neighbours who were giving up and going to try their
fortune elsewhere, and for the most part were ready to sneer at the
restless folk who were going prospecting where, according to their own
ideas, they were not likely to do half so well.

Hence it was that as soon as it was light, and while Griggs with a
hammer and spikes was nailing up the last windows and the door, for
which pieces of board cut to the exact size lay ready, there was not a
stranger there to see them off.

It was a busy time.  They had all breakfasted by the light of the
out-door fire which had boiled their coffee, cooked their damper, and
frizzled their bacon, and now were all hard at work loading the dozen
mules that had been purchased for the purpose of carrying their baggage,
and in whose management every one had taken lessons from an old
mule-driver who had made many journeys into the Far West.

For there was much to learn.  "Obstinate as a mule" is a good old
proverb, and the party had plenty of reason for learning its truth.
They had heard too of the vicious nature of these same animals.  They
were used as beasts of burden, and they seemed to have made up their
minds to be a burden to every one there.  The old Yankee, who had made
many a journey with mule teams, had taught them, and taught them well,
all he could about the mysteries of lasso and lariat, and the
diamond-hitch; but even after a fortnight's practice it was not easy to
bind the loads well-balanced upon each mule's back without getting
kicked, and when this was done, the mules having been disappointed at
not being able to kick anybody, mostly made desperate attempts to kick
at nothing, the result of which was the loosening of the ropes so that
the loads rattled and in one case went flying.

This load had been tied on by the boys, who stood looking at one another
and then at the mule, which, as soon as it was free, gave its ears a few
twinkles, shook its shabby tail, and then began to graze quite
contentedly on some alfalfa grass, or lucerne.

"Come, boys, don't stand looking on," cried the doctor.  "Try again, or
we shall be waiting for you.  You must put your feet against the brute's
side and haul tight, as you were taught."

"We did, sir," cried Ned, who was hot and angry.

"Not tight enough, my lad.  You'll soon do it better."

"Not with this one, father.  It's such a beast."

"They all are, my boy," said the doctor, laughing at his son's perplexed
countenance.

"I mean such a wretch, father.  It's so artful.  When you've got the
load on all right and balanced, and there's nothing to do but tighten
the lariat, the nasty, spiteful, cunning brute waits till you begin to
haul tight, and then fills itself full of wind and swells itself out.
Then you pull till all is as tight as tight, and fasten off the knots."

"Well, that's right," said the doctor, who looked, like the rest,
wonderfully business-like and ready for the journey, in leather Norfolk
jacket, knickerbockers, and cowboy's hat.

"Yes, so we thought, sir," said Ned, "till I heard the brute sigh."

"Oh, poor thing, it was because it had such a heavy load."

"No, it wasn't, father; it was because it was breathing out all the wind
again, and we didn't know what it meant till we found that the load was
all loose, and when we went up to tighten it the wretch wheeled round
and tried to kick us, and because it couldn't it kicked itself out of
its load."

"Never mind, don't waste time, Chris.  I want to start.  We'll halt
somewhere at mid-day for a rest, and set things right.  After a few
days' practice we shall get on better, and all these things will come
easy."

"I hope they will," said Chris, as the doctor went off to where the
carefully-folded tent and its poles and stretchers were being secured to
another of the dozen mules which formed their team.  "But look here,
Ned, old chap, I'm not going to get in a passion now; I'm going to save
it up, and before long I'm going to show this gentleman which of us two
is going to be master."

"Oh, nonsense!  My father said that we were to break the mules in with
gentle treatment.  They are obstinate, he said, because they've become
so used to being beaten."

"Old Dence told me that kindness is thrown away upon a mule.  He said
you must let go at 'em with your tongue and a good thick stick; but if
when you're using it you see one lay its ears down flat and draw its
lips away from its teeth and laugh, it's because you don't hit hard
enough.  Well, this one did."

"Yes, I saw the brute grin," said Ned.

"Well, just you wait.  I'm going to save up this fellow's dose, and he
shall have it some day with interest."

"He told me," said Ned, "that you couldn't drive mules without using bad
language.  He did--lots."

"Yes, I heard him," said Chris.

"I told my father, and he was angry and said it was all nonsense.  All
you had to do was to shout at the brutes loudly, and as if you were in a
rage.  Then he laughed, and told me what to do."

"What was that?" said Chris, rather breathlessly, for he was busy
arranging the mule's load.

"He said I was to stamp and yell, and begin to decline a Latin noun to
the mules."

"Oh, bother the Latin nouns!" said Chris pettishly.  "Who's to think of
cases when you're driving a mule?  Here, come on and help.  And I say, I
nearly forgot."

"Forgot what?  I dare say we've forgotten lots of things."

"But we mustn't forget this.  We're loading the leading mule, and it's
the one that wears that bell round its neck.  Where is it?"

"The bell?  Last time I saw it was when father hung it on one of the
gun-pegs over the fire-place."

"Oh!" exclaimed Chris, "and old Griggs is just finishing nailing up the
door."

"Then he'll have to un-nail it again," said Ned grumpily.  "Hi, Griggs!"

There were two or three echoing raps with the hammer, and then a couple
of finishing blows, before the American cried--

"Hallo, there!"

"You're nailing up the mule's bell."

"Who says so?" and there was the commencement of the driving in of
another nail.

"I do," cried Ned.  "You must open the door again."

_Rap, rap, rap, rap, bang, bang, bang_, as another nail went home.

"Can't be done."

"But we must have that strap and bell."

"Come and fetch it then.  It's hanging on the hitching-up hook at the
end of the house."

"Oh!" sighed Ned in a voice full of relief, and he ran to the place
specified, to lift down the bell and the collar-strap, to come back
ringing it loudly.

"Hoi!  Hallo, there!  Steady!" cried Wilton excitedly.  "Don't do that."

Ned gagged the bell at once by thrusting his left hand in its mouth and
holding the clapper; but the little peal he had rung had done its work
of setting all the mules in motion, bringing them all up close to the
ringer, who found himself in the midst of a knot of squealing and
kicking brutes, who diversified their vicious play by running
open-mouthed at one another to bite.

But they were all loaded at length, there was a final look round, and
then a move was made for the long shed, whose big door gaped wide, and
as their footsteps were heard there was a shrill neigh from within and
the sound of impatient stamping.

"This looks like a start at last, doctor," said Griggs, who came up
last.

"Yes, at last," said the doctor.

"Got the map all right, sir?"

"Yes, in my saddle-bag.  You said you had done everything that fell to
your share."

"Everything but locking up this door, sir, and here are the keys," cried
the American, holding up a leather bag, in which he jingled the hammer
and a few of the big nails within.

"That's right," cried the doctor.  "Now then," he shouted, "every one
tighten his mustang's girths a hole or two, and sling his rifle across
his back before mounting.  Got your revolvers, boys?"

"Yes, father--yes, sir!" came in response, and the next minute
half-a-dozen rough-looking wiry cobs were being unhitched and led out
through the low doorway, to stand champing their big bits, fidgeting to
be mounted and given their heads for a canter.

"Every one see that his bag and blanket are all right," cried the
doctor; and then Griggs' voice was heard.

"Some one take my nag's rein," he said.  "Will you, Squire Chris?"

For answer the boy reached out and took hold of the strap, casting his
eye over the sturdy little steed, which seemed too small to carry so
tall a man as its rider.

Chris noted that there was the long hide lasso-rope curled up and
hanging in its place by the saddle-bow, and that the saddle-bags were in
their places, carefully strapped on, so that a tin bucket, which was
also hung behind, should rest on one and not prove a nuisance to horse
or rider.

Ned was close to his companion, and he said--

"I say, it would have been much better if we had kept to our old idea
and had, say, three light mule-carts.  What a lot of these odds and ends
we could have stowed out of the way."

"I said so to old Griggs," replied Chris, and then he was silent.

"Well, what did he say?"

"Only grinned at first."

"Well, what then?"

"He said it would have taken so long and been so expensive, because we
should have had to send an army of men on first to make a road all the
way we were going."

"Which means he was laughing at you."

"Grinning, I call it.  But I suppose he's right, because when you come
to think of it, there'll be no track, and a lot of our travelling will
be in and out among the mountains.  There, that's the last door," said
Chris with a sigh, as there was a loud bang following the creaking of
hinges that had been rarely used.  Directly after, Griggs' hammer came
into play, making the horses restive and back away from the noise to the
full extent of their reins.

"Yes," said Ned, with a sigh, "the last door.  I say, Chris, now it has
come to it, don't you feel a bit sorry to go away from the old place?"

"Horribly," said the boy in a low, husky voice.  "What fun we used to
have!"

"Yes," said Ned, "before everything got to be so dull because things
failed so and made my father so low-spirited."

"He wasn't so low-spirited as my father was; but I s'pose there wasn't
much difference," replied Chris, to the accompaniment of Griggs' hammer
and the fidgeting of his nag.  "Quiet, will you, stupid!  He isn't going
to hurt you."

"I say, how jolly grumpy it used to make Mr Wilton."

"Hah!" ejaculated Chris.  "A year ago he was always ready for a bit of
fun, fishing, snaking, squirrel-hunting, or seeking honey.  But there,
no wonder; he felt like father, that it was all lose, lose, lose, and
that it was unfair not to be at work."

"And it took all the fun out of our games."

"Yes, no more games now, Neddy.  Father said last night when we were
alone that we must bid good-bye to being boys with the place--leave all
that here, and begin to think of being and acting like men."

"Yes, and my father said something like that to me, Chris; and somehow
now it has come to making the start I don't feel as if I want to be a
man yet.  It was so jolly to be a boy here in the dear old place.  Oh,
bother the old gold!  I wish that poor old chap hadn't come here to
die."

"So do I," said Chris, and his voice sounded very husky now as he gazed
round him at the many familiar objects.  "I say, look how my apple-tree
has grown!"

"Yes, and my pear," said Ned quickly.  "It has beaten your old apple all
to bits."

"Well, of course it has," said Chris roughly.  "Pears do run up tall and
straight and weak.  Apples grow stout and strong and slow."

"They've done well enough."

"Yes; but then see what pains we took to water and manure them.  Nothing
else has done well."

"No, nothing.  As father says, it has all been like slow ruin coming on;
but I like the dear old place all the same, because we helped to make it
out of the wilderness into a great garden.  Oh, Chris, I wish we weren't
going."

"So do I, but it's of no use to go on wishing.  We should have felt much
more miserable when we were starting to go back to England, not knowing
what we were going to do.  We should have had to go, and this is going
to be like a great roving holiday, seeing something fresh and new every
day."

"So it will be.  There, I begin to feel better now.  I say, look at the
sun rising--isn't it glorious!"

"Always is," said Chris cheerily.  "How different it makes things look!
I always feel better when the sun shines.  There, good-bye, old place,
if we never see you again."

"But I say, Chris, we might come back some day, you know."

"Not likely."

"Why?  We might find the gold, and then come back here to live.  It
wouldn't matter then about the peaches and grapes and things failing."

"No; father wouldn't want the money then," said Chris thoughtfully.  "I
should like to come back, after all, but--"

_Bing_!--Bing!--Bang!

"That's done it, sir," cried Griggs, his voice ringing out cheerily in
the morning air.  "I'll tuck the hammer and nails in my pouch.  They may
come in useful.  No, I can't; it's full.  I'll tuck the hammer handle
through my belt.  Either of you youngsters got room for a few nails in
your pocket?"

"I have, Griggs," cried Chris quickly, and, with something to do, the
pain of the farewell to the beautiful scene came to an end.

"Ready?" cried the doctor sharply.

"Aye, aye!" came back, and the horses shuffled and spread their legs.

"Mount!" cried the doctor, and every one sprang to his saddle amidst the
stamping of the mustangs' feet.  "Lead on, Griggs," cried the doctor.

The American pressed his cob's sides and trotted to where the leading
mule stood browsing, ready to raise its head, shaking the bell
violently, and make a vicious snap at the horse's neck with its bared
teeth.

But Griggs was ready for it, and threw out one of his long legs, the toe
of his boot catching the mule in the cheek and spoiling the aim.

"Look here, my fine fellow," he cried, "don't you try that game again,
or I'll fix a spike to the end of a stout hickory ready for lancing
those gums of yours.  I'm afraid you've got toothache, or you wouldn't
be so ready to bite.  Now then, ring up.  Get on."

"Forward!" snouted the doctor; and as the mule led the way under the
American's direction the whole heavily-laden team filed after, settling
down steadily enough, the horsemen bringing up the rear, looking like a
little detachment of irregular cavalry as they wound along the tracks
through the blighted plantation, straight away for the uncultivated
wilds.

"Good-bye to five years' labour," said the doctor, turning in his saddle
for a last look.

"Five years' disappointment," said Wilton sadly.

"Five years of buried hopes," said Bourne slowly; but the boys were
silent, neither daring to trust his voice.

"And now," cried the doctor, "for five years of unburied hope and
looking forward to the future.  Here, boys, you ought to give a cheer.
Who'll lead?"

No one: the moments were too sad, for there seemed to be a thick black
veil hanging before them right in front, and neither dared to think of
what might be to come.

Onward, onward into the future, with the wilderness unseen waiting to
swallow up the adventurers in the unknown way--the perils to be
encountered happily hidden from them as yet.



CHAPTER NINE.

A NIGHT SCARE.

It had been decided that they should make for the farthest part known to
them south and west, where the wildest country lay, and they had been
twice before, Griggs having paid double that number of visits in search
of game.  There the cultivation ceased entirely, for the rich soil gave
place to sage-brush and a far-stretching tract of salt or alkali desert,
Griggs proposing that they should cross this, for after a good deal of
questioning the settlers in that direction, he elicited the information
that one of the settlers upon the verge of the good lands had seen a
strange-looking tramp, as he called him, pass his lonely shanty one
evening, but feeling no desire for any such company he had stood back
among the trees, and his place had certainly not been seen by the
stranger.

"That shows we should be a bit nearer where he came from," said Griggs,
"and it would be a fair day's journey for a beginning.  We could find a
spot to camp out for the night, and start early the next morning to see
if we could not cross the bad land before dark."

"How far would it be?" asked Bourne.

"Ah, that we must find out from the man who lives nearest to the edge,"
replied Griggs.  "He's pretty sure to have been some distance into the
desert shooting, and even if he doesn't know he'll be able to tell us
where we can find water, for that's what we must always go by.  When
it's too far off for a day's journey we must take our bottles and the
little casks full."

The mules soon steadied down; the day was hot, but not unpleasantly so,
and after crossing a very wild patch some miles in extent they picked up
a track and followed it, to come upon cultivated land again, and the
track led them to a shanty built upon the bank of a river also dried
into a series of pools; but as they approached the house and obtained a
near inspection of the cultivated ground it became very plain that no
hoe had been between the rows of fruit-trees that year, and on riding up
to the shingled wood house, they found no sign of living creature--no
ducks paddling in the pool, or fowls pecking about near the enclosed
yard; all was still and silent.  They had come upon another sign of
failure, for, as far as they could see, the place had been deserted for
quite a year.

"A sign that we are not alone in giving up," said the doctor; "but it
will make a capital place for our first halt.  Go and see what the water
is like in that farthest pool, Chris.  This one is nearly all mud."

Chris urged his mustang forward towards where there was a glint of water
through some trees four or five hundred yards ahead, but he had not gone
one-fourth of the distance before he was overtaken by Ned, who was as
eager as he to see what the place was like.

They soon knew--a carefully-tended Far West estate, given up and allowed
to go back to a state of nature.  Fruit-trees had been planted in
abundance, but as the boys got farther from the house the wild vines and
weeds were gradually mastering the useful trees, and in another year or
two the plantations would have lost all trace of the hand of man and be
wild jungle once more.

"I dare say there'll be fish enough," said Chris.  "This is a deeper
pool than we generally see.  I say, how sandy the ground is here!"

The next minute they realised why it was so sandy, for instead of its
being a cleared track it proved to be the dried-up bed of a little sandy
river, one that linked the pools together when the wet season came on.

"It looks as if no water had been along here for a twelvemonth," said
Chris.  "Look there."

His cob had seen the object at which he pointed first, and stopped short
with its ears pricked forward to where, grey and glistening, a snake lay
basking in the hot sunshine amongst some stones, but now, alarmed by the
snort given by Chris's mustang, it began to glide away, passing amongst
some dried-up reeds and leaves, giving forth its strange soft rattling
sound with its tail the while.

"Well, we don't want to waste powder and shot on him," said Chris.
"Come on," and they rode on to the edge of what proved to be a shallow
lagoon some acres in extent, from which they startled a few waterfowl
into flight, the ducks, as they splashed along the surface before
rising, starting off other occupants of the pool in turn, a little shoal
of fish darting off and raising a wave which marked their course towards
the middle, where, the water growing deeper, they disappeared.

"Well," said Chris, "we know all we want to know now.--There are
rattlers about, and if it wasn't for them it wouldn't be a bad place for
a long halt."

"We can take care to avoid the snakes," said the doctor, "and as there
is plenty of good water we'll stay here till the morning; but as we are
in such good time two or three of us will ride on to see what the
country's like further on.  Perhaps the next plantation may have some
one to give us a little information."

Camp was formed then as far as was necessary, the fairly-well-built
house offering plenty of shelter, and the place round, ample
grazing-ground for the beasts.

A hasty meal was made, and then Wilton and Griggs were appointed scouts,
riding off and returning at sundown with the information that the
plantation they were on was the farthest to be seen--all beyond was
wilderness, but with nothing in the shape of high ground beyond, save in
one spot where a hill or two rose faintly blue against the sky.

"Isn't it jolly!" said Ned, after they had partaken of an exceedingly
muddly meal, the water being fetched from the lagoon, and the fire for
boiling their coffee having been made of wood that was indisposed to
burn, while no matter where they arranged the provisions it was only to
have them attacked by insects, which came from under planks or stones,
dropped from the rough ceiling of the decaying shanty, came flying,
crawling, hopping, or with sharp raps as if they had formed part of the
charge of a gun.

But it was a change.  Everything was fresh, and this first start had
ended the monotonous drudgery of their unsatisfactory life at the
plantation.

So Ned had given his opinion that it was jolly, an idea which, now he
had shaken off the feeling of depression at leaving what had for years
been his home, Chris fully shared.

For the boys' spirits had risen as they rode through the bright sunny
day, and they only found disappointment in one thing--the fact of being
compelled to regulate the pace of their mustangs by that of the
heavily-laden mules, whose rate of progress was about equal to that of
an ordinary British donkey driven in from a common.

Over and over again they longed to give their sturdy, well-chosen little
nags a touch with the heel to send them racing along through the
dusty-looking sage-brush; but they had to be contented with plodding
steadily along behind the train, save when Chris found that there was
something he wanted to ask Griggs, who kept on by the leading mule and
its bell, and then the question seemed to be so important and weighty
that it took two boys to carry it.

The first few times the doctor had taken no notice, but after Chris had
cantered forward four times to rein up on one side of the American, with
Ned on the other, his father said dryly when he overtook him--

"There's a good old saying that has to do with thoughtfulness, Chris.
It is this: Let your head save your heels.  To apply it in this case, it
should be, Save your pony's heels."

"I don't understand you, father," said the boy.

"Don't you?  I only meant, the next time you want to ask about something
that has been left behind, keep it in your head till you think of the
next thing, and the next.  You might collect half-a-dozen, and then you
could go and ask them altogether.  Do you see?"

"Yes, father," said Chris, who turned rather red.

"Be patient, my boy, and you'll have plenty of hard riding, perhaps more
than you anticipate."

There seemed to be no necessity for the precaution so near home, but the
doctor said that they had better begin as they would have to go on "when
in the enemy's country," as he put it, with a smile.

"Before long we may be where there will be risk of our animals
stampeding, or being stolen.  Later on, when we are in the Indians'
country, we shall have to guard against attack, so we will divide the
night into watches."

This was before settling down for the night in and about the deserted
fruit-farm.

"Oh," cried Wilton; "but surely this is being too particular.  Every one
is tired.  We have had a very wearing day, beginning so early as we did
with the packing and getting off."

"Yes," said the doctor coldly, "but the success or failure of the
expedition depends upon our being punctilious.  A stitch in time saves
nine, my dear boy."

"But--" began Wilton, in a tone of protest.

"One moment," said the doctor.  "Let me make a suggestion.  We want to
start early every morning for Unknownia, if you will let me coin a name
for the place of our search."

"Of course," said Bourne.

"We must always break the neck of our journey by getting over a good
many miles before the heat of the day sets in."

"That's good advice," cried Griggs.

"Very well, then," continued the doctor; "we don't want to waste time in
lighting fires and hunting up horses and mules that have strayed no one
knows where in the course of the night, do we?"

"No, of course not.  I see," said Wilton.  "I give in."

"The man who takes the morning watch will have breakfast ready before
daybreak, and then there will be nothing to do but load up the mules and
start off the moment it is light enough."

There were no dissenters from the leader's practical proposals, and he
elected to take the first half of the night's watch himself, Griggs to
take the second, and soon afterwards the animals were hobbled and left
to graze, one of the barn-like buildings was chosen for resting-place,
and those who were free from duty lay down to sleep.  The two boys
naturally enough made up their bed of dry sage-brush on the decaying
floor of the building, and then, in response to the doctor's orders to
get off to sleep at once so as to be well rested and fresh for the next
day's work, they lay wide awake, talking in whispers.

To do them justice, this was no fault of theirs.  They were tired
enough, but their eyelids felt as if they were furnished with springs
which held them wide open, to stare through the open side of the barn at
the glittering stars, while their ears were all on the strain to listen
to the different sounds that came from all around.

At first there was the cropping of the horses and mules, as they feasted
on the fresh shoots of the abundant growth, owing to the moisture
beneath the little dry river-bed having kept the coarse grasses pretty
succulent.  There was the hum of mosquitoes and the boom of big beetles,
and every now and then the cry and answering cry of some animal unknown
from out in the sage-brush.  But for a time the lads lay silent, till a
peculiar mournful shout, as it seemed to be, came from the direction of
the lagoon, sounding so mournful and human that it was too much for Ned,
who whispered--

"Awake, Chris?"

"Of course.  Who's to go to sleep with millions of things getting up
your legs and arms and down your neck?  I wish I'd taken off my clothes.
Isn't it hot!"

"Yes, yes; but did you hear that?"

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"Owl," said Chris shortly.

"I know it was a howl," said Ned, "but it was more like a shout or
hail."

"Owl, owl, hunting about over the brush for young hares or rats and
mice."

"Oh, of course.  I never thought of that," said Ned, and he settled down
quietly for a few minutes, before saying in a whisper: "I say, isn't it
queer that one seems to hear hundreds of things now that one never
noticed at home?"

"I don't know.  Perhaps we should have heard some of these ticks and
squeaks and rustlings if we had lain awake.  I say, Ned, I believe all
the wild things from round about are coming to see what we want here."

"Very likely.  What's that?"

"What?"

"That flash of light.  Is it a storm coming?"

"Pooh!  No.  Father threw some bits of dry stuff on the fire."

"To be sure.  But I say, Chris, that's why all these insects and things
come creeping up.  It's the light that attracts them."

"Of course it is.  I wish you'd go to sleep."

"I will as soon as I can, but you needn't be so disagreeable."

"Enough to make me.  I'm tired, and you keep on talking like an old
woman.  Not frightened, are you?"

"Nonsense!  No.  Ugh!"

Ned started up, his action following the ejaculation belying his words,
for all of a sudden from near at hand came a dull thud as if a heavy
blow had been struck, followed by what sounded in Ned's ears like a
shriek of agony.  "What's that?" he gasped.

"One mule tried to bite another in the back, had a kick for his pains,
and called `Murder!' in mulese," said Chris sourly.  "I say, I shall
have a bed-room to myself to-morrow night if you're going on like this."

Ned was silent, for his companion's words rankled.

"Perhaps I ought to have known," he said, "but it's all so strange lying
out here in the darkness."

He turned over on the other side, determined to sleep now, and he tried
hard for quite a quarter of an hour, the effort seeming to make him more
wakeful than ever, for his senses were all upon the strain, while as the
night progressed fresh noises, some of them quite peculiar, seemed to
arise.  Once he started, for there was a heavy splash which in the clear
air sounded quite near, but which was evidently from the lagoon; and it
put to flight an idea he had been nursing up of going down to the sheet
of water and ridding himself of his hot tickling clothes so as to have a
good swim before breakfast.  That was all over now, for that splash told
of alligators swimming in the lagoon to his heated imagination.  He had
never heard of the reptiles existing in that part of the country, but he
knew that there were plenty in the swamps farther to the south, and
there was no reason why there might not be some in the wild districts
into which they were plunging.

Another splashing noise succeeded, and he felt that it might have been
made by a fish, and others which succeeded have been caused by
waterfowl.  But all idea of bathing was dismissed.

At last, after a long hot lapse of time, during which he had given many
a vicious rub to the unclothed parts of his body, and turned again,
feeling as if there were far too many buttons on his clothes, which
instead of confining themselves to their proper duty of holding the said
garments in their places, felt as if they had become animate and were
engaged in treating his flesh as if it was wax and they were seals.

"Hah!" he sighed, at last, as the sounds grew apparently more dull and
distant, Chris's breathing heavy and regular, and a feeling of restful
ease began to pervade his being.

"Old Chris is fast asleep, and I'm going off at last.  Oh, how tired,
how sleepy I do--Ugh!"

He did not rub now, he dared not, and that ejaculation was like a husky
sigh--very low; but it was loud enough to rouse Chris into wakefulness.

"What's the matter?" he whispered.

There was no reply for a few moments, and Chris repeated the question,
adding, "Did you speak?"

"I must have been dropping off and dreamed it," thought Chris, but the
next moment his name was uttered in a strange whisper.

"Yes?  All right!  What is it?"

"There's something on me," came back faintly.

"Well, knock it off."

"I daren't.  I can't move."

"What, is it so heavy?" said Chris mockingly.

"N-no.  I'm afraid it'll bite."

"A skeeter?"

"No," said Ned, more faintly.  "Call to your father for help."

"What for?  Here, shall I strike a light?"

"N-no.  It might make it angry."

"It?  It?" said Chris, with all the petulance of one who had been
previously disturbed by his bed-fellow's alarms.  "What is _it_?"

"Down by the pool--the hot sand--you know--amongst the stones."

"What!  A snake?" whispered Chris, alarmed in turn now, and feeling the
cold perspiration breaking out on his temples.

"Yes--a rattler."

"Look here, you boys," said a stern voice, in a whisper from close at
hand, "I begged you to--"

"A light, father!  Be careful!" gasped Chris, and the next moment there
was a sharp scratching sound, a flash, and a pale light played over the
recumbent figures.

"Now then, what is it?"

"Oh, it's gone now," groaned Ned.  "I felt it glide off when you struck
the match, sir."

"Leap off, you mean," said the doctor.  "Rats don't glide."

"Oh, it wasn't a rat, sir," said the boy faintly.  "It was a rattler."

"Nonsense!  Not here."

"Yes, sir; they swarm.  Chris and I saw a big one down in the river-bed
this afternoon."

"Pooh!" cried the doctor.  "But this is your bed, not the river's.  It
is not likely that one would be here.  If there were any about, they'd
be a deal more likely to favour me by the fire.  You've been dreaming,
my boy."

"Oh no, sir.  It was too horribly real."

"Real enough, but some little animal--a mouse, more likely," said the
doctor, putting out the second match he had lit most carefully.  "Look
here, have you boys got matches?"

"Yes, father."

"Be careful how you use them, then.  This place is as dry as tinder.
Now then, go to sleep."

He backed out of the place, and the boys lay listening to the rustle and
crackle of his departing steps.

"Think it was--not a snake, Chris?" said Ned, at last.

"Yes.  If it had been a rattler father wouldn't have gone off like that.
You didn't feel it crawl, did you?"

"Yes, right up in my chest, and I bore it till I felt it touch my neck,
and then--Oh, it was a horrid sensation!"

"Yes," said Chris slowly, "a horrid sensation, but it wasn't a rattler.
I say, think you can go to sleep now?"

"I'm going to try.  But, I say, I never thought that sleeping out in the
wilds--"

"We haven't got to the wilds yet," said Chris.

"No, no; but this is bad enough."

"Pooh!  We shall get used to it, and think nothing of sleeping anywhere.
I say, I was asleep, and you woke me out of a beautiful dream--such a
lovely one."

"Did I?" said Ned, rather uneasily.  "What was it?"

"I dreamed that we had found the place just as it is on the map, and you
couldn't put your foot down anywhere without treading upon gold; and
then your rattlesnake came and spoiled it.  Here, I'm going to sleep
again to finish that dream.  Can't you go now?"

"I'll try," said Ned, who felt horribly ashamed about his false alarm.

But it took no trying.  Five minutes later both boys were sleeping
soundly after this initiation in what they would have to encounter
during their wild journey.



CHAPTER TEN.

ON THE WAY.

Ned was ready to laugh at his scare when riding forward in the sunshine
of a brilliant morning.  He had been awakened by Griggs with a cheery
hail, to find the cool damp air of morning impregnated with the
agreeable odour of coffee fuming away over the embers of a crackling
fire which showed up the browsing animals here and there in the
darkness.  Then came a hearty breakfast, over which the day's
proceedings were discussed, and the doctor's decision accepted that they
could not do better than strike right away in the direction of the hill
seen the previous afternoon, making that their observatory for deciding
future proceedings.

"Our plan of campaign is simple enough," he said; "we must avoid all
traces of civilisation, and keep to the wilds.  The rest lies with
chance and good fortune."

It was only beginning to get light when all set to loading up the mules,
to find it nearly as hard a task as before; but it was mastered, a sharp
lookout given round to make sure that nothing was left behind, and then
the order was given, "Forward!"  Griggs led off once more, with the
biting mule's bell jingling, and the low brush, wet with dew, giving out
a peculiar rustling as it was trampled down or passed through, the
direction of the hill being determined by compass, the result of their
leader's observation taken the day before.

But soon after the darkness grew grey, there was a faint band visible in
the heavens which gradually broadened, trees started into view to right
and left, and after progressing some distance in silence, Chris and Ned,
who had taken up their positions on starting right and left of Griggs,
began to find their tongues and make remarks about the faint streaks of
orange colour which lit up the zenith.  Soon after it was as if the
coming light of day was illumining them as well as the landscape, and
they ended by asking questions and then talking loudly about what had
passed in the night.

Griggs was ready enough to reply in a bantering, boyish spirit in
response to one of Chris's questions.

"Yes," he said; "your dad roused me up out of about the most delicious
sleep I ever remember to have had.  Oh, it's just grand sleeping out in
the open.  You have so much room to breathe."

"Why, you slept in the house place the same as we did," cried Ned.  "I
saw where you lay down."

"Likely enough, but you didn't see me get up again.  It was too hot and
stuffy in there, with things creeping into your hair and ears.  I soon
got up and shook them off so as to go and pick a place near where the
doctor was watching, so that he should know where to find me.  Then I
lay down on one of nature's own spring mattresses, made by spreading a
blanket over the sage-brush, and the next minute I was asleep."

"But suppose there had been a rattler under where you lay down?" cried
Ned.

"Well, then he'd have just had time to take one bite at the blanket and
fill his teeth full of wool before I'd squeezed him flat.  I weigh nigh
upon twelve stone, horseman's weight, and that would have taken all the
music out of his tail if he'd been there.  But don't you make any
mistake about those gentlemen; they've an ugly way of biting if they're
obliged, but from what I know, the first thing a rattler does when he
hears feet coming is to take himself away somewhere so that no one shall
tread on his music."

It was then that Chris annoyed his companion by relating the night
alarm, though Ned was ready enough to join in the laugh against himself.

"Say," said Griggs suddenly, as they passed a clump of trees standing
like an island upon a little elevation above the monotonous plain which
had succeeded the oasis where the fruit-farm lay in the solitude, and he
pointed off to his left.

"Say what?  Can you see anything?" asked Chris.

"Yes; ain't that the hill we've got to make 'smorning?"

"Yes; of course," cried Chris, shading his eyes from the level sunbeams.

"Then we're leaving it too much to the left."

The opinion was endorsed before anything had been done, by an order from
their leader, who had been using his glass, and now shouted from the
rear that they should bear off to the left and then make straight for
the elevation dimly-seen like a low cloud in their front.

"Our boss is going to keep us all up to the mark, and no mistake," said
Griggs, "only I hope he's going to play fair with us."

"Why, of course he will," cried Chris indignantly.

"I don't know," said the American, with a curious smile about the
corners of his lips and a twinkle in his eye.  "I don't think he was
quite square in the night."

"Why not?"

"Well, you see, he had to rouse me up to relieve him about midnight,
when I was in such a beautiful sleep that it was a sin to break it, and
what does he do but snap it in two about an hour before he ought."

"I don't believe he would," cried Chris.

"No, you don't, because he's your father.  He ain't my father, and so I
believe he did."

"But did you look at your watch?"

"Nay, but I felt as if his must have been an hour too fast if he looked
at it and found it twelve o'clock.  Say, we might as well let watches
take their chance now, and trust to the sun.  He don't want any winding
up, and we shall have plenty to do without seeing to keys and that sort
of thing."

"I shall keep mine wound up," said Chris decisively.

"So shall I," cried Ned.  "We don't want to turn savages because we are
going into the wilds."

"Just as you like, squires, but you'll do more good, I say, by being
sure to wind up your revolvers and setting your rifles ready to strike
one or two when they're wanted.  I say, we must talk to the boss about
having some shooting if we see a chance."

"There's one then for the shot-barrel," cried Chris excitedly, as he
pointed to a hare--a jack-rabbit, as they called it--just startled by
their animals' feet, and bounding away as hard as he could go.

"Nay, we're not going to waste powder and shot upon those things.  I
don't like that bitter sort of meat."

"They are bitter," observed Ned.  "My father says it's because they eat
so many of the artemisia shoots."

"Eh?  What shoots?" cried Griggs.

"Artemisia--this stuff we're riding through."

"Oh, the sage-brush!  Well, p'r'aps it is, but I allus thought it was
from swallowing so much alkali dust.  Regular soda plain, this."

"What are we likely to find farther on, Griggs?" said Chris, after that
gentleman had been remonstrating a little with the bell-mule for trying
to bite Ned's mustang, the said remonstrating being performed with the
butt of his rifle, which had to be applied hard upon the vicious
animal's head.

"What are we likely to find to shoot?" replied Griggs, with a satisfied
grunt, for the mule was plodding steadily on again.  "Well, Indians."

"But we can't eat them," cried Chris, laughing.

"No, my lad; I should say buck Indian would be as tough as his own
teepee [skin lodge, hut, or tent].  Matter o' taste, though, I s'pose.
No cannibal that I ever heard of in our family."

"No nonsense, Griggs," said Ned.  "What are we really likely to find?"

"The gold if we're lucky," said the American dryly.

"I mean, what are we likely to shoot for the pot?"

"All depends how far south we get, and whether we come into woods and
mountains.  If we strike them we may drop upon a flock of gobblers now
and then."

"What!  Turkeys?"

"Yes."

"Splendid!" cried the boys in a breath.  "But do you really think we
shall find them?"

"Like enough; if we're far enough away from settlements and Indians."

"But if we don't find turkeys, what then?" asked Chris.

"I dunno.  We're going into the wildest parts we can find, places that
haven't been hunted over.  We might come upon buffalo or a deer now and
then.  All depends upon our getting into quite lonely spots.  But there
you are," continued the speaker, pointing with his piece, and then
administering another punch to the mule, who was beginning to smile
previous to making a bite.

"What are you pointing at?" asked Ned.

"Can't you see those birds skimming along just over the brush, my lads?"

"No," said Ned.

"Yes," cried Chris.  "I see them--partridges."

"Something of that kind.  Prairie hens, or cocks.  They're good to eat
sometimes."

"Of course; we've often had them."

"Here, I must cut a good thick cudgel first chance on purpose for this
lovely playful insect here.  We ought to christen him Mosquito.  He's
always trying for a bite out of something--hungry beggar.  I say, dessay
he wouldn't mind trying a bit of Indian."

"Give him another punch with your rifle."

"No!" cried Griggs emphatically.  "Never again.  I did that idiotic
thing twice over before I thought what a fool I was towards myself, and
teaching you two lads at the same time."

"How?  What do you mean?"

"Doing what is sure to mean an accident some day.  Can't you see, one
holds by the barrel and reaches down the butt?"

"Of course."

"Well, some day that means jarring the rifle off and sending its charge
into you who hold the barrel.  Never try such a thing, whatever you do.
It's the work of an idiot, my lads.  A man that does such a thing
oughtn't to be trusted with a gun."

"Then we ought to take Mr Nathaniel Griggs' rifle away from him, Ned,"
said Chris, with mock seriousness.

"Ah, you may laugh, my lads, but I deserve it," said the American
seriously.  "It gave me a cold shudder just now when I thought of what a
mad thing I had done.  There's more fooling about with guns than people
think.  Every now and then a donkey comes into a room, sees a gun, picks
it up, and presents it, saying to some one, `I'll shoot you,' and pulls
the trigger, bringing some poor fellow down.  If ever you see any one
aim at a person with a gun, knock him over, and save accident.  A poor
boy or girl is shot, and then the idiot says, `Oh, I didn't know it was
loaded!'  It oughtn't to have been, but at such times guns generally
are.  I don't know how many accidents of that kind I've heard of.  We're
always going to be carrying our pieces on this journey, and never ought
to have one out of our hands, so we should be the more careful.  I don't
want to be buried out here in the desert, nor yet go home again without
a head.  What would be the use of the gold to me then?" he added, with a
dry chuckle.

"Ah, what indeed?" said Chris seriously.  "But don't talk about it.  I
say, when you were keeping watch in the night, did you hear or see
anything?"

"Didn't see much, but I seemed to hear a good deal that was a bit
strange."

"What?" asked Chris eagerly.

"Oh, I don't know; creepy sounds in the black darkness under the trees,
and splashings in the big pool, just as if it was full of six-foot
alligators waiting for something or some one to eat."

"I heard that," said Chris; "but it was only fish."

"Like enough, my lad.  I never heard of any 'gators in these parts.
Hallo!  That was something.--Nearly had me off."

"A snake!" cried Chris, for Griggs' mustang had suddenly plunged,
bounding sidewise with a jerk to its rider which nearly sent him out of
his saddle.

"Rattler, I expect; nearly trod on him.  Isn't bitten, or he wouldn't go
on so quietly," added the American, turning in his saddle to look back
at the trampled track they had made through the brush, but nothing was
to be seen.

"Oughtn't we to ride back and warn the others?" said Chris.

"No need, my lad; that gentleman, if he was a rattler, has gone to earth
fast enough, and won't show himself till we're gone.  Yes, I don't think
my nag was touched.  I shouldn't like that.  Deal rather Master Skeeter
here got it.  A bite would make him smile and look more handsome than he
does now."



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

NED SEES SOMETHING.

"No luck yet, Griggs," said the doctor, riding up to the head of the
little caravan one morning, after many, many days of travel since the
party made its first plunge into the unknown, untraversed wilds, to keep
trudging on at the rate dictated by the mules, which, laden as they
were, could not be hurried.  Sometimes when the track they made for
themselves was easy and level a good many miles were got over; at others
the hindrances seemed to multiply, and Griggs laughingly said it never
rained but it poured, and then the tale of miles traversed became very
few at the end of the day.

But the American worked harder than any one, and always with unfailing
good-humour.  There were times when he seemed to be furious, raging out
in language especially his own, the vocabulary being wonderful, the
names he called astounding in their fluency, novelty, and peculiarity;
still the objects of these displays of temper were never his
fellow-travellers, but the mules, and as soon as he had roared himself
hoarse he stood wiping his perspiring face, smiling contentedly, to say
to one, the other, or both of the boys, "I feel a deal better for having
got rid of all that nasty stuff.  It kinder eases my mind, youngsters,
and now look at 'em," he continued, pointing at his obstinate charges;
"see how nicely they go.  Don't you ever tell me that mules have no
brains.  Look at Skeeter, how he's listening to my voice, and you wait a
moment and you'll see him begin working those ears of his about.  There,
do you see?  That's his way of telegraphing his opinions about what he
has heard to all the rest.  There's a deal more in mules than people
think."

Be this right or wrong, the baggage-carrying animals did their best when
Griggs was near them, and a few absurd words from his powerful lungs
stopped kicking, biting, and squealing when a revolution seemed to be on
the way, and a fight of heels had begun, to the imminent risk of
disaster to the packs.

"No luck yet, sir?" cried Griggs, when the doctor had spoken on that
particular morning.  "Why, I was just thinking how lucky we had been."

"How?" said the doctor, and the boys pricked up their ears to listen to
the conversation.

"Haven't lost a mule; always got over some of the ground to bring us
nearer to the place we're looking for; and the way in which we are
enjoying ourselves in this compound frolic of a picnic is wonderful."

"Enjoying, eh?  Well, I'm glad you take it so."

"Oh, I think we're been wonderfully lucky, seeing what might have
happened."

"Do you hear, boys?" said the doctor.  "That's the spirit to take our
journey in.  But look here, Griggs, we've been trenching too much on our
stores, and that's bad."

"The mules don't think so, sir," said the American, laughing; "but as we
can't buy fresh, going on in this way, perhaps we had better be on the
lookout a little more for the pot, and leave the stores as much alone as
we can."

"Yes," said the doctor.  "I say, don't let anything eatable go by.  By
the way, you're deviating a little from the course we laid down this
morning."

"Just a little, sir," replied Griggs.  "It was Skeeter's doing."

"Oh, I did not know that the mule took the lead."

"He doesn't always, sir, but sometimes he stops short, lifts up that
muzzle of his, lays his ears flat down, and sings one of those pleasant
little airs of his; and when he does that I've noticed more than once
that it means he smells water somewhere.  So this time when he snapped
at a fly trying to lay eggs in his skin, and bore off a little to the
left, I didn't interfere."

"But the lookout forward does not seem promising," said the doctor,
raising his double glass to his eyes and sweeping the horizon.

"No, sir, it looks like warm stuff out of the kegs to-night, and none to
spare for a wash."

"I'm afraid so," said the doctor, closing his glass and drawing rein so
as to let Wilton and Bourne close up.  "Tired, Chris--Ned?"

"Oh no," they replied.

"It's soon in the day yet, father," added Chris.

"That seems a pity about the water, Griggs," said Ned, as they rose
slowly on.  "Oh how I should like a good swim in a clear river!"

"Wouldn't be amiss; but when you can't get beef, mutton ain't bad."

"I knew that," said Chris dryly.

"But you don't seem to know that when you can't get plenty of water for
bathing, nice clean sand isn't a bad thing for a good dry wash.  It's
better without soap too."

Chris laughed.

"Ah, you may grin, but it's a nasty habit, I think, that of rubbing
grease turned into what you call soap all over your skin.  Look yonder
on that patch of sand," he continued, pointing, for his keen eyes seemed
to miss nothing.

"Snakes!" cried Chris, bringing his rifle sharply round.

"Nay, nay, don't shoot.  What's the good?  You might scare something
better."

"Better!" said Ned, with his upper lip curling up and the corners of his
mouth going down.

"Yes; I don't care about snake," said the American dryly, "but I hev
heard that some of the Injuns cut the rattlers' heads off and roast them
in wood-ashes, and that they're uncommonly good."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Ned.

"Yes, that's just how I feel, my lad," continued Griggs, in his calm,
dry manner.  "I'm like that countryman of mine who was hard up for tuck,
out in the backwoods, and when some one asked him afterwards how he
managed to live, he said he shot and cooked the crows."

"Horrid!" cried Ned.

"Yes, that's what t'other one said; and then he says, `But surely you
don't like crows?'  `No,' says the first one, `I don't kind o' hanker
arter them.'  It's the same here, I don't kind o' hanker arter snake;
but it's all a matter o' habit."

"Oh, ugh!" cried Ned.

"Ah, you may say ugh, but it all depends; when a fellow's hungry he's
got to eat something, and I don't see why a snake shouldn't be as good
to eat as an eel."

"But they're poisonous," cried Chris.

"Only in the head, and it's easy to cut that off.  Now, look yonder;
there lie four fine fat rattlers, fast asleep on that patch of sand.
We're not exactly short of food, but a little extra would be very
useful, and as rattlers are so plentiful it seems almost a pity that we
can't make them good to eat, and knock over all we come across."

"How can you talk in that horrid way, Griggs!" cried Chris, with a
shudder.

"I don't see nothing horrid about it.  Snake's a nice clean enough sort
of thing; and, as I say, it's all a matter of habit.  They tell me frogs
are delicious, but I'd as soon eat snake."

"Reptiles!  Ugh!" cried Ned.

"So's turtle reptile," said Griggs.  "Nasty-looking thing too.  Might
just as well eat alligator.  I've a good mind to get down and cripple
two or three of those rattlers, so as to try how they eat."

"No, no, don't!" cried the boys in a breath, and before the others
grasped what he was about to do, Chris pulled up, slipped off his
mustang, gathered up a handful of small stones, and sent a shower
amongst the sleeping reptiles.

In an instant there was a scattering of sand and a rush for safety, the
snakes taking refuge amongst the brush around, leaving not a sign of
their presence.

"There goes dinner for six," said Griggs dryly.  "I say, there's plenty
of those creeping gentry about here."

"Almost the only inhabitants," said Chris.  "Well, if we do have to come
to eat 'em, perhaps we shall get monuments set up to us in our honour
for introducing a new kind of useful food of which there's plenty being
wasted in the far west.  Pity they're so small.  They'd shrink too in
the cooking.  Why, a hungry man would be able to polish off one easy."

"Do you want to make me ill, Griggs?" said Ned, shuddering.

"Certainly not, my lad."

"But I say, Griggs," cried Chris, "how big do those things grow--how
long were the largest you ever saw?"

"Oh, they don't come quite up to boa constrictors.  Let me see, the
largest I ever saw measured was--was--"

"Twenty-five feet?"

"Nay, nay, nay, not quite as long as that, but quite six feet, which is
bigger than I like, after all.  Most of 'em's little, like those.
Dangerous sort of things, and don't the horses and mules understand!
Don't catch them going near a rattler if they know it."

"My nag has shied four times this morning at the poisonous brutes," said
Chris.

"Seems to me," said Griggs, "that they like this part of the country.
I'd be pretty careful about walking about when we get down.  It'd be as
well to ride about a bit when we stop for camping, so as to scare the
beggars away.  We don't want to get bitten."

But from that time, oddly enough, they saw no sign or trace of the
reptiles.  The sun grew hotter and hotter, but neither in sandy level
nor rugged stony patch was a snake seen basking.  Nothing was visible
but lizards, and they disappeared when the doctor called a halt in the
most rugged part of a stony waste where there was an overhanging cliff
and a broken gully which promised at a distance to be the home of a
spring; but though it had evidently been at one time a pool overhung by
rocks, there was not a trace of moisture.  It afforded a little shelter,
however, in an overhanging part where there was a rugged projecting
shelf, and there being nothing better, the halt was made there, only to
prove too hot a one for endurance, the rocks seeming to glow, and
keeping off such air as was astir as well as the sun; so after a short
time the doctor decided to go on once more in search of some more likely
place.

In those hot, weary hours the elasticity and cheerfulness of the boys
died away.  In the early morning it had been all laugh and chat and
notice of everything they passed that seemed novel, but with the coming
of noon quite a change came over them, and Ned took to sighing from time
to time, then to murmuring, and at last after a long, low expiration of
the breath--

"Oh dear," he cried, "I am getting so tired of this!"

"Well, you are a fellow!" grumbled Chris.  "Only an hour or two ago you
talked as if you liked it."

"Ah, I wasn't so hot and fagged out then.  It gets so jolly monotonous.
Here we go on, ride and tramp, ride and tramp, day after day, seeing
nothing but sand and sage-brush, sand and sage-brush.  Always tired,
always being scorched by the sun till one's giddy, and--"

"Here, father!" cried Chris, but without turning his head.

"What are you going to do?" said Ned, in a hurried whisper.

"Call father up, for you to grumble to him."

"Nonsense!" whispered Ned.  "Don't be a stupid donkey.  Can't I say a
word or two without you wanting to tell tales?"

"I don't want to tell tales; I want for you to tell father yourself.
You talked as if you had had enough of it, and wanted to go back."

"Who wants to go back?" cried Ned angrily.  "Nice thing if one can't say
what one likes about one's feelings!  I only said what I did because I
was hot and tired, and it is so tiresome, one day just like another, and
not a bit of adventure to go through.  Why, I expected no end of fun in
that way--I mean, no end of excitement."

"Do you understand what he means, Griggs?" said Chris.  "I think you've
upset him by talking about cooking and eating snake."

"It wasn't that," said Griggs.  "He must have got out of bed the wrong
way this morning."

"Yes; a nice sort of bed!  Nothing but rough sage-brush, crumbling up as
soon as it's moved, and looking like so much gritty imitation tea."

"Same sort of bed as we had, squire, and we don't grumble.  Why, you're
not half a fellow.  Like to go back perhaps?"

"That I shouldn't!" snapped out Ned, so suddenly that his mustang
started and had to be checked and soothed.  "Can't a fellow speak?  I
don't want to grumble, but it is so monotonous."

"You said that before," cried Chris banteringly.

"I know, Clevershakes!" retorted Ned.  "And now I say it again.  I've as
good a right to speak as you have.  If you don't like the word
monotonous, I'll say dull and stupid.  It's ride and walk, ride and
walk."

"And walk and ride, walk and ride," said Chris, imitating his old
companion's words and tones.  "No adventures--nothing to see."

"Not even a rattlesnake," said Griggs softly.

"Look here, Mr Griggs," snapped out Ned, "I wish you wouldn't keep
interrupting me when I'm speaking.  It's precious rude."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Griggs politely.

"Well, don't do it again," said Ned shortly.--"Phew!  How hot it is!
I'm sure it's ever so much hotter than it has been before."

"Much," said Chris, with his eyes twinkling, but he looked straight
before him.  So did Griggs, and Ned went on--

"It's just as if the sand got to be red-hot and all the heat was
reflected back in one's face.  I wouldn't care, though, only it's so
dull and monot--dreary!" the boy snapped out, looking sharply from one
to the other as if to see whether another remark was about to be made
respecting his repetition; but neither of his companions moved a muscle
of his face, and he went on murmuring in the same irritable way--

"There seem to be no fish to catch, no birds to shoot.  I wouldn't have
believed that there could have been so much miserable desert if I hadn't
seen it.  I quite thought that by this time, after getting right away
from all settlements and into the wildest of the wild country--"

"What!" said Griggs sharply.  "Oh, nonsense!  Wildest of the wild?  Why,
this is nothing to what we've got to come.  We haven't seen a regular
good mountain yet."

"No, nor yet a wild beast.  I thought we should have had plenty of
adventures with them by now."

"Oh, that's what you mean, is it?" cried Griggs, with mock seriousness,
giving Chris a peculiar look at the same time, as if asking him to back
up any assertions that he might make.  "You expected that we would spend
half our time shooting lions and stalking tigers?"

"Yes," said Ned, passing his hand over his eyes and shaking his head, as
if the heat had made him sleepy and giddy.  "_No, no_!" he added
hastily.  "Of course I know that there are no lions and tigers here.
You're laughing at me."

"Well, it's enough to make a cat laugh to hear you go on finding fault,
when here we are in a regular wonderful country, such as I should never
have expected to find so soon.  Of course I know that it wouldn't do for
a plantation, but here we are, just at the beginning of rising ground,
and a mile or two further we shall be all amongst rocks and stones, and,
for all we can tell, we shall come upon the sugar up yonder among those
mountains rising up as if they were growing out of what was a plain."

"Sugar?  What sugar?" said Ned, staring.

"Well, the gold amongst the three sugar-loaf mountains shown on the
chart."

"I only wish we could find it," said Chris.

"Well, have patience, and the more patience you use up the more you'll
want.  We shan't find the gold without."

"But I'm like Ned," said Chris thoughtfully; "I think as he does, that
it does seem wonderful that there should be such a lot of regularly
useless land in the world.  Look at this: as far as we can see it's so
salt and dry that nothing will grow.  Stones and sand, and sand and
stones, and all of no use at all."

"Who says so?" said Griggs coolly.

"Why, I do; you heard me."

"Yes, you say so, but what do you know about it?  You say it's of no use
because it's of no use to you; but you know nothing at all about what
may be underneath all this sand and stone."

"Nothing at all; not even water," cried Chris.

"You don't know.  There may be gold or silver or lead, tin or copper, or
some of those minerals that chemists and such folk use.  I don't like to
hear you grumble, my lad, about things when you've only just looked and
not tried.  What about precious stones--diamonds and rubies?"

"Or pearls perhaps," said Ned, with a sneer.

"Yes, or pearls," said Griggs, and the boys both burst out laughing
heartily.

Ned's tide of ill-humour had turned.

"Got me?" said Griggs gravely.  "I say, you are clever ones!"

"Well, I like to hear you make a blunder sometimes, Griggs.  You often
have the laugh at us; now we've got one at you."

"Yes, you are clever ones," said the American grimly, "but you're wrong
this time.  You're both grinning and looking at one another as much as
to say, Hark at old Griggs!  He's forgotten that pearls come out of
oysters and oysters live in the sea."

"Of course," cried the boys together.

"Yes, of course, and I don't know that there mayn't be fossil oyster
shells somewhere about here with pearls still in them.  I've seen shells
sometimes looking quite pearly inside though they've been buried in rock
no end of time.  You didn't hear your father say only day before
yesterday that all this salt desert land must at one time have been the
bottom of the sea.  What do you say to that?"

"Oh!" said Chris thoughtfully, and Ned pushed his broad-leaved hat a
little on one side so as to scratch his ear.

"You're right, though, after all, about lions and tigers, and so was I.
Only they're American lions and tigers--pumas and jaguars, and pumas
without any manes, and jaguars with spots instead of stripes.  Wait a
bit, and we shall come upon some of them.  Not here, though; it's not
likely sort of country for them, but there's mountain land yonder
piled-up higher than we shall be able to take our mustangs and mules.
We shall find watercourses soon, and that means trees and grass and
quite a different climate.  The sort of place where we're quite likely
to find Uncle Ephraim at home."

"What, grizzly bear?" cried Chris excitedly.

"That's the gentleman," replied Griggs; "and as like as not after
crossing a ridge or two we may come upon buffalo."

"What, in the mountains?"

"Perhaps.  More likely in the plains.  There, don't you chaps grumble
any more.  Your fathers have got quite enough to think about without
having to talk to you about being a little more plucky and patient."

"Yes, I know," cried Chris, wincing; "we're only grumbling to you."

"Oh, then I don't matter?"

"Not a bit.  You're such a good-tempered, patient chap, and you seem
like one of us.  But I say, Griggs, do you really think we are going to
find a change in the country soon?"

"Certain."

"Oh come, that's better!  We have had enough of sand and sage-brush, and
we do want a regular change."

"You'll get it, then, and I dare say before night.  Can't you see that
we're on the slope of the mountains now?"

"No, not a bit of it."

"But we are; just slowly rising, and by night we shall find that we are
in quite a different place, hundreds of feet higher than where we had
breakfast this morning."

"Well, I hope you're right," said Chris.

No more was said then, the two boys sometimes riding, sometimes walking,
till after some hours Griggs pulled up, to point to the fact that they
had reached what seemed to be the summit of an enormous land-wave heaved
up and rising for miles either way across the desert, but right in front
descending slowly into a vast hollow plain which glistened in its
desolation as if frosted with silver.

"Why, it must be silver," cried Ned enthusiastically.

"Nay, nay, only salt, my lad.  Looks like a dried-up lake."

"Yes; where's your herd of buffaloes?" cried Chris.  "Oh, shouldn't I
like for us to shoot one and have some beef!"

"Yes; buffalo hump isn't bad," said Griggs.  "It's rich and tender and
gravyish."

"But where is it?" said Ned.

"Higher up, I suppose, where there's prairie-land and grass.  You don't
expect to see buffler where there's nothing to graze on, do you?  Look
at the stones, though.  Regular rocky ridges rising up one above the
other on the other side of that frosty lake part.  Shouldn't wonder if
we found something fresh there."

He pointed to his left, where there was a manifest change in the scenery
as seen through the shimmering haze which hindered the view.

"Yes," he cried eagerly, "if you look hard you can just get a glimpse of
a great ridge, and just beyond--_ragh_!  There are the mountains at
last!"

"I can't see them," said Chris thoughtfully.  "Are they near?"

"No; but near enough for us to reach to-morrow night."

"But what about to-night?  I say, that isn't salt.  I can see it
glittering quite plainly; it's water."

"No, my lad; no water there.  I wish there was," added Griggs to
himself.

"Then what are we to do for water to-night?"

"There'll be enough to make our tea."

"But the horses and mules?" said Chris.

"We must try and find a hollow with some shrubby stuff that they can
chew, poor beasts, for they'll get nothing else.  What are you pointing
at, squire?"

Ned made no answer, but sat fast where he had checked his pony, pointing
to where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heavy grey stones lay scattered
widely about over the sandy slope.

"Well, I can see them; stones, looking as if a mountain had crumbled all
away in an earthquake, or in some volcanic explosion which had shattered
it all to pieces."

"No, no," said Ned huskily; "not there.  More to the left.  It is that
tree I mean."

"Tree?  There's no tree there."

"Yes, that great one that was turned over in the earthquake, and all of
the trunk and top buried in the stones."

"I say, my lad," said Griggs anxiously, "has the heat been too much for
you?"

"Yes, it made my head ache."

"That's it, then.  Made you fancy you can see a tree upside down."

"'Tisn't fancy," said Ned huskily.  "I can see plain enough, but it
isn't natural.  It's all alive, and the roots are twisting and twining
about as if the tree was alive and in pain."

"Here, don't stare at it.  Shut your eyes for a bit, my lad.  I'll take
your mustang's rein."

"But I must look at it," cried Ned excitedly.  "I can't help it.
Horrid!  Here, you two are not looking the right way."

"I'm looking at you, my lad," said Griggs kindly.

"And so are you, Chris.  Don't--please don't.  Look there; I want you to
see what it means."

"Ugh!" gasped Chris, as he turned his eyes in the direction pointed out
by his companion, and that which he saw then was evidently seen now by
his nag, which started violently, and but for the tight hand the lad had
upon the rein it would have dashed off.

"Here, have you got it too?" cried Griggs.  "There, sit still till the
water-kegs come up, and you must have a drink apiece.  The sun has been
too much for you, and--"

He said no more, but sat staring in one direction with his mouth wide
open and his eyes seeming ready to start out of his head.

"Hallo, here! hallo!" cried the doctor, cantering up, closely followed
by Wilton and Bourne, leaving their position in the rear unguarded.
"What's the matter--the boys taken ill?"

"Snakes," cried Griggs hoarsely.  "Look yonder."

Griggs' words were unnecessary, for the doctor's eyes had lighted upon
the extraordinary sight that had startled Ned into his wild
announcement.

The next moment his companions had grasped the phenomenon, and had hard
work to keep their mounts from dashing frantically away.

For about a hundred yards from them, half-hidden among the stones, was
something which pretty well warranted Ned's comparison to a tree turned
wrong way up, so that only its roots were visible above the ground, the
object being, in fact, a monstrous knot of hundreds of snakes twined
together as if they were all engaged in the attempt to get their heads
into the centre of the tangled mass which, all in motion, heaved and
sank and rolled from side to side, the lower portions of the serpents'
bodies and their tails being free to lash and writhe about in the air,
while at a second glance the spectators began to realise the fact that
all around, gliding in and out amongst the stones, were hundreds upon
hundreds more of the reptiles, apparently urged on by some savage
instinct to form other knots, till the whole of the hollow in front
seemed to be alive with the loathsome creatures.

"Did you ever see anything like this before, Griggs?" said the doctor,
who was the first to speak.

"Never, sir; but an old gold prospector once told me that he had seen
just such a sight, only I put it down to being a yarn told to cram me."

"But they're not poisonous--not rattlesnakes, surely?" said Bourne.

"They surely are," cried Wilton.  "Hark!  Can't you hear?  It's like a
dull thrilling sound.  Here, I don't want to be the first to run, but I
can't stand this; I'm off."

"We'd better all be off," cried the doctor.  "Here, Griggs, head round
your bell-mule and let's get away.  You seem to have led us right into
the empire of snakes.  Quick, look alive, or the poor brutes will be
right amongst the reptiles."

"Not they, sir; they smell 'em now.  Come and help, or we shall have a
stampede."



CHAPTER TWELVE.

CHRIS HAS A FIT.

Every one made a dash to avert the disaster on hearing their leader's
words, but the stampede had already begun.  Disaster of a serious kind
was about to fall upon the little expedition, and but for the energy of
Griggs and Chris matters would have been worse than they were.

For panic had seized upon two or three of the mules, which took alarm
from the startled mustangs, and directly after they would all have been
in headlong flight, kicking wildly as they tore away, when the same
thought came to two of the party who had the energy and nerve to put it
into action.

The idea was that even then, frightened as they were, the mules would
obey their old habit, so driving their heels into their snorting
mustangs' sides, Griggs and Chris raced after Skeeter as he was tearing
along at full speed, shaking his load loose, and making his bell jangle
loudly as he squealed and galloped.

Almost at the same moment the two pursuers grasped the mule's rein on
either side and drew their own, with the result that with the bell
ringing still loudly, three animals were going along swiftly close
abreast, but moment by moment becoming more and more under control,
Skeeter the calmest of all, for he acted as if he felt comparatively
safe with a stout cob pressing against each side.

The rest of the mules were still galloping, but Skeeter led, and his
behaviour began to influence his companions to such an extent that as
they grew farther from the object of their alarm the kicking and
plunging gradually subsided.  The effort of going full speed under loads
generally carried at a walk began to tell, and at the end of half-a-mile
all were under control and following their bell-bearing leader, till
Skeeter was checked, no serpents were in view, and the controllers of
the wild race sat panting upon their mustangs, ready to round up any
mule which made a fresh start, and every living thing panting from their
late exertions, the bipeds eagerly calculating the damage that had been
done.

"Sit fast," cried the doctor, "and be ready in case they make a fresh
dash.  Griggs!  Chris! splendid; but keep fast hold of that bell-mule's
rein."

"Got him tight, father," cried Chris.

"Same here, doctor," panted Griggs.  "He'll have to leave his head
behind this time if he tries to make a start.  Say, Squire Ned," he
continued to the boy, who now joined him, "you were grumbling about
having no adventures.  What do you say to this for a regular red-hot
one, quite noo out of nature's oven?"

"Oh, I don't know," cried Ned excitedly.  "Do you think the rattlesnakes
will pursue us?"

"No that I don't, my lad; but I say, doctor, just look."

The leader was already gazing back over the ground they had covered, to
see that it was dotted with packs and various odds and ends sent flying
from the mules' loads, from a tin cross-handled kettle to bags of meal
and a great elongated roll which represented the tent.

The doctor groaned, for there lay the scattered objects in sight, while
how many lay beyond his ken he was afraid to think.

Of course he felt that they could be collected again, and that they were
not of a nature to have suffered much damage, but it would probably be
the beginning of another stampede to force any of the animals back along
a track infested by serpents, and a task that would try the nerves of
the stoutest of them seeing how horribly insidious was the danger, when
the lifting of a bale might mean the incurring of a deadly stroke from a
hidden foe.

In all probability no reader of this ever encountered a mule team
represented by so many sets of four legs, a head, and tail, and a body
hidden by the load secured upon the backs of the owners of the legs by
means of cords tied with what a mule-driver calls the diamond-hitch.
The reader has also probably never seen a mule dissatisfied with the
load it has been called upon to bear, and doing its best to shed the
same load.  Every one is aware of the brute's kicking powers, but in
this respect it is at its best when, plunging and flinging out its legs,
it squeezes itself up tightly within its skin and tries its best--worst
would be the proper term--to shoot itself out through the diamonds of
rope which form the hitch.

Griggs had secured most of the loads that day, and he had done well; but
all did not stand the strain, and the appearance of the mules standing,
hanging of head, stamping, twitching their ears and whisking their tails
to get rid of the flies, was painfully ludicrous.

Skeeter, as became him, being leader, and, thanks to the way in which he
had been checked, was the most reputable-looking of the team, for others
were horrible.  Here stood one mule with his load resting upon the sand,
the animal striding across it, head and fore-legs in front, hind-legs
and tail behind, and nothing upon its back but tightened ropes.

A little farther on was one which had shed its load and stood with
drooping head, looking as if it had been ornamented with a tangle of
rope.

Again, not many yards away was another snuffling and nuzzling at the
sand, which it blew aside now and then with a snort which raised a
little cloud--doing all this under difficulties, being nearly
overbalanced by its load, which had slipped over till it bulged straight
out from its side.  Another sat up like a cat, being held in position by
its pack, which had slipped over its tail, while again another had
kicked till it went down upon its nose, kneeling, so to speak, with its
hind-quarters high up, and its load like a pair of panniers resting upon
its neck.

"What a horrible confusion!" cried the doctor, and he was going to say
something more, but his words were drowned by Skeeter, who had evidently
been surveying the wreck of the train and the dismal condition of his
companions, especially that of the one farthest off, which had tried to
roll its load off till it had been brought up short by getting its legs
perpendicular to paw the air--being unable to get over to right or left,
consequent upon the two packs thoroughly wedging it up, so that its
razor back resembled the hull of a boat whose keel was fitted in the
chocks, the pawing legs looking like so many motive masts.

All this seemed to be too much for Skeeter, who stretched out his neck
till his muzzle was in a line therewith, literally shed tears, opened
his mouth, distended his nostrils, and with ears quivering, emitted the
most startling sound ever heard.  It was not a neigh like his mother
would have given, nor a bray such as his father would have uttered, but
a hoarse yell made up of the most discordant elements of both, and it
was no wonder that the doctor's voice was drowned.

"Be quiet, you brute!" he cried angrily, making a pretence of kicking it
in the pack; and then he stared in wonder, for it seemed as if a fresh
misfortune had affected one member of the expedition in a peculiar way.
That member was Chris, who suddenly dropped his hold of Skeeter's rein,
and with his face horribly distorted, began to roll about in his saddle.

"Oh, Griggs!" he gasped.  "Ned!  Somebody!  Hold me on."

"What is it, boy?" cried the doctor--"Bitten?"

"N-n-n-n-no, father," he panted.  And then, "Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I--I--
I--I--I can't help it.  I--"

There were other words, but they were confused and strange; but though
they did not convey in words the meaning of the seizure, they pointed
out what was the matter.  For it became evident that Chris was laughing
wildly--madly--hysterically, and to such an extent that he had lost all
control of himself, and had hard work to keep in the saddle.

To make matters worse, the mirth proved contagious to such an extent
that Griggs sat looking at him, then at the mules, and back again, with
his mouth expanding into a broad grin, while Ned slid off his mustang
quietly, held on to the rein, and then lay down in the sand, to laugh in
the same uncontrolled fashion.

"Well," cried Bourne angrily, "this is a nice way to treat our
misfortunes!"

"I--I--I can't help it, father," panted Ned, and he laughed more than
ever, while Wilton's lips as he sat looking on began to quiver and then
widen out.

"Here, stop it, you two," he growled at last.  "Come and help collect
the things."

"I--I can't yet," panted Ned, who laughed more than ever, till Wilton
gave the doctor and Bourne a sharp look, and then said aloud--

"Oh, let them laugh it out; but I say, are those some of the
rattlesnakes coming after us?"

"Eh?" cried Ned, who was sobered in an instant, and sat up to exclaim,
"Which way?  Whereabouts?"

"I--I--I can't help it if they do come," gurgled out Chris.  "Oh,
father, plea-please stop me; it hurts.  Gi-give me something--a drop of
water."

"Yes, the boy's quite hysterical," said the doctor.  "Water.  Ah!  Where
are the kegs?"

All looked round, but no kegs were visible.  There was the mule that
should have borne them, though, with the rough pack-saddle upon which
they had been lashed one on each side, twisting its head round and
striving to reach a fly that was busy at work depositing its eggs in the
animal's coat, the teeth being not long enough to scrape it out.

"Why, the water-kegs have gone!" cried the doctor wildly.

"Here, catch hold of the mule, somebody," cried Griggs, and Chris was
sobered in an instant, for the water represented life to all, and it was
no time for laughing then.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

IN A STRANGE NEST.

Chris's mirth had passed away as quickly as it came, and he sat erect in
his saddle.

"Going back to look for the kegs, Griggs?" he said faintly.

"Yes, of course, unless you like the job," was the gruff reply.

"I'll go with you," said Chris briskly.

"Then you'll have to nip your pony's ribs pretty tightly," cried Griggs,
"for the moment he sees a snake he'll spin round and bolt."

"I'll mind," said Chris, setting his teeth.

"Come on, then."

The pair rode off back along the track littered with their impedimenta,
while the doctor and the others began to try and reduce the loads of the
mules in difficulty to something like order.

"Oh dear, what a muddle!" cried Chris, as they went back at an amble.
"Why, half the things are lying about."

"Not a quarter," said Griggs gruffly, as his eyes scanned not only the
scattered necessities, but every stone and scrap of dry, parched-up
growth.

"Think any of the rattlers will be about?" said Chris.

"I dunno.  I want to set eyes on those two tubs."

But the tubs were not visible, and the pair rode on till they felt that
at any moment they ought to be in sight of the enemies that put horse
and mule to flight.

Still nothing was visible.  The last-kicked-off pack had been passed,
but there were no tubs, and the part of the desert where the tangled
mass of serpents had been seen was so close that the next minute they
felt that they were bound to see the writhing creatures somewhere among
the stones in front.

But strange to state, their ponies displayed no uneasiness, the tight
hands kept upon their reins were not needed, and the docile little
animals stepped steadily onward towards the stone-dotted slope and
basin.

"Why, where are they?" said Chris, in a whisper, as he gazed wild-eyed
and excitedly over his mount's ears and from side to side.

"I dunno, my lad," replied Griggs.  "It caps me.  Why, there were
hundreds and thousands all about yonder when the stampede began."

"Of course there were," said Chris, "and now I can't see one."

"Not so much as a rattler.  They must all have holes somewhere here
among the stones.  Mind!  Take care!"

"What for?  Why?"

"They may come darting out and attack us."

"I say," continued Griggs, after a careful look round, "weren't dazed
with the hot sun and dreamed all that, did we?"

"Did the mules and horses dream it too?" cried Chris scornfully.

"No, of course not.  But it's a puzzle, my lad.  I wouldn't have
believed such a sight possible; but there it was.  And now I wouldn't
have believed this could have happened; but it has, for I can't see a
snake."

"Never mind the snakes as they're not here," said Chris, setting the
example of reining up, for the two mustangs to stand calmly enough; "I
want to find those two water-barrels."

"Ah, to be sure; we've come for them," said Griggs, looking curiously
about.  "I say, was that the mule that carried the kegs?"

"Oh yes; didn't you see the pack-saddle?"

"To be sure.  If it hadn't been for that I should have been ready to say
that the one with the water had gone right off somewhere."

"Oh, that was the one," persisted Chris.  "I know him well enough by his
white muzzle."

"To be sure.  That's right.  Then where are the kegs?  Snakes ain't
thirsty things.  They couldn't have rolled them away, could they?"

"What nonsense!" cried Chris.  "But it is really strange.  If we were on
a slope I should have thought that they had gone rolling right away out
of sight."

"We are on a steep slope, lad, but the barrels would have to roll up it
to get out of sight like this, and I never knew barrels carry on games
like that out of a book of fairy tales."

"Griggs," cried Chris, after a moment or two of thought, "are we in the
right place?  These stones are very confusing."

"Right place?  Yes, look there; you can see our trail."

"Yes," replied Chris thoughtfully, as he bent down over his saddle-bow,
"and--Ugh!  Look there!"

"Eh?  See snakes?" cried Griggs excitedly.

"No, but look there; surely all those windings in the sand were made by
them."

"To be sure.  Oh yes, we're in the right spot, without a doubt.  Then I
tell you what.  We can't see very far away any way amongst these
dotted-about stones; there must be a sharp slope somewhere near, perhaps
the edge of a precipice, or great hole in the ground."

"Crater of a volcano, perhaps," cried Chris.

"That's it, lad; the one that played at pitch-and-toss with all these
blocks of stone, and threw them all over the place."

"Then where is the hole?" said Chris.

"I dunno; somewhere about," said Griggs thoughtfully, as he looked
about, peering in among the rocks.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Chris, as thoughtfully, "if it is quite close
here, and when the mule kicked off the tubs they went rolling down into
it and were lost."

"Oh, don't say that, boy!" cried Griggs excitedly.  "You don't think of
what value that drop of water may be to us now."

"Oh yes, I do.  I'm so thirsty; but I say, Griggs, suppose the hole into
which they have rolled is the one that the snakes live in."

"Not it; they live in little holes and cracks just big enough for them
to creep into.  Well, I don't know where the things have gone.  Look
sharp and find 'em; your eyes are younger than mine.  We shall have the
doctor after us directly to physic us both for not finding them."

"Hurrah!" cried Chris.  "There they are!"

"Where?  I can't see from here."

"Come nearer this way," said Chris, easing his horse off to the right.
"There, just at the foot of that great block."

"And hurrah the second!" cried Griggs, as soon as he had pressed his
horse into the right position.  "I couldn't have seen them from where I
was even if we had been closer.  My word!  They rolled a good way,
didn't they?"

"No; they couldn't, because they are chained together so that they hung
across the pack-saddle.  The mule must have galloped round that way when
he kicked them off."

"Yes, I suppose you're right.  Come along; I'll sling 'em across my tit
and walk back."

Griggs sprang off his mustang, and was in the act of passing the reins
over the animal's head, when Chris made a snatch at his collar and held
on.

"What did you do that for?" cried Griggs.

"Hist!  Don't make a sound.  Look," whispered Chris.

"Why, what's the matter?" said Griggs, lowering his voice, for the boy's
manner impressed him, he looked so blank and strange.

"Look!  Can't you see?"

"No, not from where I am," was the reply.

"Oh, it's horrid," whispered Chris; "dreadful!  The kegs are lying on a
nest of snakes, and they're rising and falling and playing about them
like flames round logs of wood."



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A FIGHT WITH THE ENEMY.

Griggs uttered one low whistle as he slipped his arm through the rein so
as to leave his hands at liberty, one to press back his cowboy's hat,
the other to sweep the gathering drops of perspiration from his brow.
"I never could abear snakes," he said huskily.  Then after a pause he
drew a long, deep breath, to say with an attempt--a very sorry attempt--
at cheerfulness--"Well, we've found the kegs, anyhow."

"Yes," said Chris bitterly, "and where the snakes are."

"Bless 'em, yes!" said Griggs, looking in the direction of the horrible
reptiles.  "Well, we don't want them."

"But we want the water."

"Of course."

"What's to be done, Griggs?"

"I can't think o' nothing but say _Sh_! to 'em to frighten them away."

"Oh, don't do that," cried Chris, in alarm.  "It might make them attack
us."

"It might," said Griggs thoughtfully.  "Well, I'm about beat.  I've got
a tidy bit of pluck in me when I'm stirred up--as much as most men
have--but I can't stand rattlers.  The idea of getting bitten sends a
cold chill all down my back.  I'd a deal sooner be hugged by a grizzly.
Poison snakes and mad dogs make a regular coward of me."

"They would of anybody," said Chris.  "But I say, what is to be done?"

"Sit down and wait, my lad.  I s'pose snakes have some sense in 'em,
same as other critters.  They're bound to find out before long that they
can't break the iron hoops nor bore through the staves to get at the
water; and when they're tired perhaps they'll give up and go home."

"But we can't wait.  Father will be coming soon to see why we're so
long."

"Well, he'll be able to see without our telling him."

"But can't we do something to drive them away?"

"I know what I should do if we were in some places," said Griggs.

"Yes!  What?"

"Light a big fire of brushwood and green-stuff that would make a
stifling smoke just to wind'ard of them.  That would soon scare them
off."

"But there's not a handful of stuff that would burn," cried Chris, in
despair.

"Nary scrap, my lad."

"Look here; suppose we creep as near as we dare, and then fire off all
four barrels of our rifles as closely together as we could, right at
them.  That would startle them into moving off."

"P'r'aps," said Griggs; "but the thing would be, which way would they
go?"

"Which way?  Why, from where the smoke and fire came."

"Maybe, but I shouldn't like to risk it.  I'm afraid we shall have to
wait, my lad--wait till it's dark.  Snakes always go back to their holes
when the sun sets."

"But that will take so long, and I'm choking with thirst," cried Chris
peevishly.  "I say, how would it do to keep on pitching great pieces of
stone in amongst them, or handfuls of small bits that would scatter and
make a noise?"

"Only make 'em savage, I'm afraid.  I should have most faith in putting
a pound of powder and laying a train ready, so that one could light a
bit of touch-tinder and get away to a safe distance.  When that went off
with a good explosion, I should think the rattlers would scuttle away."

"Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Griggs!" cried Chris.  "Who's to go and lay the
train and place the powder ready?"

"Ah, that would be awkward," said the American thoughtfully.

"Besides, if you had such an explosion you'd burst the barrels."

"Hah!  So we should.  I say, couldn't lasso the barrels, could we?  I
can throw a noose pretty well."

"You'd catch serpent as well as the barrels."

"Yes, and that would be nice, to have a savage rattler thrashing and
striking about, trying to get his fangs into you somewhere.  Say, Chris
Lee, lad, we've got in a tangle.  Hallo!  I thought as much; here's the
doctor."

The gentleman in question rode slowly up.

"Well," he said, "have you found the barrels?"

Chris answered him mutely by pointing to the objects of their search.

"Very well," said the doctor.  "Why don't you--Oh, I see, you've just
dismounted to sling them across your saddle.  We were beginning to think
you very long.  But I don't see any snakes.  Where are they, Chris?"

"Yonder, twining all about the water-kegs, father.  It's alive with
them."

The doctor shaded his eyes with his hand and looked across at the
barrels, his face contracting with horror at the sight which met his
eyes.

"No wonder you were so long," he said bitterly.  "What do you propose to
do?"

"Nothing, father.  We can't think of a way," said Chris sadly.  "Can you
tell us?"

"There seems to be no way save one."

"Wait till the snakes have gone back to their holes, father?"

"Yes, after dark; and then it will not be a pleasant task to get the
kegs away.  Worse and worse."

"Oh, there can't be anything worse, sir," cried Griggs.

"I think there can, sir," replied the doctor.  "This forces us to
bivouac, as the soldiers call it, in the serpent-inhabited desert.  But
we must do it, I suppose.  The snakes will not be stirring during the
darkness.  But we must hope that when we find the gold region, it will
not be such a serpent-haunted spot as this; the gold could not have
better guardians to keep it safe."

No one spoke for a few minutes, during which the doctor sat upon his
horse watching the movements of the serpents.

"That seems to be the only way," he said at last.

"To wait, father?"

"Yes.  We had better build up a cairn with some of these stones to guide
us to the spot when we come to hunt for it in the dark."

"No need to build a cairn, sir, if I plant three or four stones on the
top of that big rock there."

"No; but what about finding it in the dark?"

"Lanthorn will set that right, sir."

"Very well.  Up with them, then.  Help him, Chris; I'll hold the
horses."

The reins were handed to the speaker, and Griggs pointed to a large
light-grey piece of lava.

"If you can lift one end of that, squire, to help me, that bit would
stand upright on the top of this block.  This would do, for it's
light-coloured.  Can you do it?"

"Oh yes; it's the same sort of stone as this," said Chris, pushing a
piece with his foot, "all full of holes, like sponge and cinder."

"Come on, then."

They stooped down one at either end of the fragment, some three feet
long and one wide, looking squared like a crystal, and as if Nature had
taken the first steps towards providing the builder of a house with a
piece to form part of a door-post.

"Yes, it's light enough," said Chris, lifting one end, and then uttering
a cry as he dropped it again, to start back, for there was a sharp hiss,
a dull rattling sound--not sharp enough for a rattle--and a large snake
glided from beneath, to curl up menacingly, while from the other side a
second had appeared, to begin writhing and darting about, striking at
random into the air as far as it could reach, while the doctor had hard
work to restrain the prancing horses.

Needless to say, Chris and his companion had lost no time in getting
beyond reach of the poisonous reptiles, and helping the doctor by each
seizing his horse's rein.

"A pretty narrow escape," cried the latter.  "Why, the place is alive
with the reptiles."

"Looks like it, sir," said Griggs.  "Dessay we're standing on some of
their holes now."

"But don't you see?" cried Chris excitedly; "that second one's pinned by
the tail.  When I let my end fall it must have caught it fast."

"Rather a pity," said Griggs cynically.  "It must have spoiled the
rattle.  S'pose it hurts too.  Look at him!--That's no good, my beauty.
Stone can't feel.  Ah, you idiot, you don't belong to the wise serpents
we read about.  Look at him biting at the stone."

"In impotent malice," said the doctor, watching the frantic efforts of
the reptile.

"That chap's safe enough now, Squire Chris."

"Safe!  I shouldn't like to risk going near him."

"But you might; he's held fast by that tail of his, and all he could do
would be to thrash you with his long body."

"And bite," said Chris.

"Nay; his biting would go for nothing now."

"What about his fangs?"

"Snapped off like points of glass.  They were sharp enough and poisonous
enough, but bound to say the poison's all out on the stone, along with
the teeth.  Razors are very sharp and would make horrible cuts, but not
after you'd been chopping a piece of stone with them like that, eh,
doctor?"

"I think you are right, Griggs," said the doctor, who seemed fascinated
by the reptile's impotent struggles.

"Well, you are a sneak," cried Griggs.  "Gahn with you!  I'd put my tail
between my legs if I were you, only you haven't got none.  That's right;
rattle away.  I say, I hope he hasn't gone to fetch a lot of his mates
to pitch into us."

"That's not likely," said the doctor, as he watched the bigger and free
snake gliding swiftly away, heedless of the struggles of its companion,
which was evidently growing exhausted by its furious efforts to release
the lower portion of its body.

"What are you going to do?" said the doctor quickly, as Griggs handed
him his horse's rein again.

"I'm going to put that chap out of his misery, sir," replied the
American.

"No, no; don't fire.  It's waste of a charge."

"Not a-going to, sir.  There's more ways of killing a cat, you know,
than hanging it.  Eh, Squire Chris?"

As he spoke Griggs put his hand to his belt, in which a stout keen
hunting or bowie-knife was stuck, and drew out the glittering blade.

"Going to cut his head off?" said Chris eagerly.

"Yes, unless you like to, squire."

"I will," cried Chris.

"I don't want you to run any risks, my boy," said the doctor.  "Do you
think you can do it without danger?"

"Oh yes, father," said the lad, drawing his own perfectly new knife.
"See how slowly the thing keeps on lifting up its head, to hold it
quivering in the air before letting it fall down again on the rock."

"But if it saw you go near it might strike at you."

"I don't think so, father.  Look, it must be blind.  It has battered its
head horribly against the stone.  I think it's quite blind."

"So it is, sir," said Griggs.  "There's no more danger there, sir.  Let
him do it.  We want him to be cool and ready for anything now."

"May I do it, father?"

"Well, yes; but stand well at arm's length, and give a good, careful,
sweeping draw-cut with your knife."

Chris eagerly handed his rein to his father, and then went cautiously
towards the quivering reptile, which kept on rising up and falling down
inert with a regular action, save that it grew more slow.

Chris drew near till he was almost within striking distance, and waited
till the snake had risen to its greatest height, that is to say, about
two feet above the stone and three feet in all from the sand on which
the boy stood.

"Take care," said the doctor.

Chris made an offer, as boys call it, cutting horizontally from his left
shoulder, the knife flashing in the sunshine as it _whished_ through the
air, passing inches from the snake's neck; but the motion of the air
affected the reptile, which winced, dropped flat to the stone, and began
to writhe frantically.

"Be careful, Chris; there's a great deal of life in it yet."

"That was only a try, father," replied the boy; "I didn't try to cut it.
I will, though, now," he continued, as the writhing ceased; but the
battered head began to rise again slowly and steadily in the air till it
was at its greatest elevation, and seemed to be kept up by a stiffening
of the whole body.

Meanwhile, watching it carefully, the boy had advanced his foot a few
inches till he felt that he was in exact striking distance, when there
was another bright flash of rays reflected from the glistening blade, as
the cut was made and the snake dropped down again upon the stone, for
the writhings to recommence.

"Missed him?" cried Griggs excitedly.

"No; I just touched him with the point," said Chris coolly.  "I wasn't
quite near enough."

Proof of the correctness of his words was given by a red mark or two on
the surface of the stone as the writhings ceased and the reptile began
once more to raise itself, quivering slowly till it was rigid, and at
its full height, when without a moment's pause the knife flashed again,
there was a vigorous draw-cut, and the dangerous head dropped with a
loud pat on the stone, leaving the erect neck and body stiffly poised
for a few moments, slowly waving to and fro, before falling like a piece
of stick, and seeming to break as part fell out of sight.

"Bravo!" cried Griggs.

"Ah, my boy!  Mind!" cried the doctor.

But before his warning cry was half uttered there had been another flash
as of something glistening in the air, and Chris started back again,
receiving what felt to be a sharp blow in the chest, while a larger
rattlesnake than either of the others dropped back behind the stone and
glided rapidly away.

The doctor had Chris by the arms the next moment.

"Where--where did it strike you?" he cried.

"Here, father--such a thump," said the boy coolly, touching the fold of
his Norfolk jacket with his left hand.  "Ugh!  Something wet."

He snatched back his hand, to hold it out, for a tiny smear of moisture
to be seen glistening in the sun upon the palm of his hand.

The doctor seized him by the wrist, and then examined the fold of the
jacket.

"Do you feel anything--a prick in the chest?" he said hoarsely.

"No, father.  It was a sharp thump, as if some one had thrown a stone."

"Here is the venom on the thick frieze," said the doctor, tearing open
the jacket and examining the thin flannel shirt beneath.  "No!  Thank
Heaven!" he cried, with a sigh of relief.  "The fangs did not go
through.  Chris, boy, you have escaped.  If the reptile had driven its
fangs deeper, I fear that I couldn't have saved your life."

"That doesn't sound very nice, father," said the boy coolly; but Griggs
noted that he changed colour, and then laid his hands upon his father's
shoulders, after dropping his knife on the ground.

"It was a miss, doctor," said Griggs, breaking the silence, as he
scooped up some of the dried sand and rubbed Chris's hand, and with
another handful dried the fold of the jacket.

This he repeated two or three times, and also paused to look well inside
the fold next the boy's chest.

"Didn't go through, sir; that's for certain," he said.  "There'll be no
danger in the poison as soon as it's dried in the sun."

"None whatever, I should say," replied the doctor.  "There, let's get
away from this horrible place.  I don't know how we're going to get
those kegs again.  The danger seems too great."

"Not after dark, sir," said Griggs coolly.  "We must have 'em though,
and I'm going to do it somehow, cost what it may."

The next minute they had mounted and were riding slowly back to where
the others were about to come in search of them, in alarm at their
prolonged absence.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

DRY FISHING.

There was a short, sharp council of ways and means held in the soft
evening light which bathed the sterile rocky plain and the distant
mountainous land with a weird beauty, that made those who gazed around
feel a sensation of wonder, that nature could spread such a mask over a
scene whose aspect to the adventurers was full of the horrors of thirst,
and death by the stroke of the venomous reptiles.

Close at hand, and showing no disposition to stray, were the horses and
the mules, with their coats bristling with dried sweat, and the dust
through which they had travelled.

Their packs remained untouched, for every one felt that it was
impossible to stay where they were, while before starting afresh water
was an absolute necessity--a draught each to allay the feverish thirst,
and the contents of one keg carefully divided so that about a pint each
could be given to the wearied beasts.

"But there must be water somewhere near on that higher ground," said
Wilton excitedly, and the doctor noted that his eyes looked bloodshot
and wild.  "Here, I tell you what; I'll take our bearings and ride off
to see what I can find, and then come back."

"No," said the doctor, "it is impossible.  Look at your horse: he cannot
carry you right up yonder for miles upon miles in the state he is in."

"Then I must walk," cried Wilton impetuously.

"You would break down before you had been gone an hour," said the
doctor, "and we should have to search for you and bring you back."

"Oh! give me credit for a little more strength and determination, sir,"
said Wilton petulantly.  "We must have water, and it is to be found up
yonder in the hills.  What do you say, Bourne?"

"I agree with you that water may be found yonder, but we must keep
together.  Our party is small enough as it is; we must not make it less
by letting one of our most active members break away."

"Then what are we to do?" cried Wilton, and the boys' lips moved as if
they echoed his words.

"We must wait till dark, and then get the kegs.  After the whole party
is refreshed, we must strike up into the hills at once and search the
valleys till we find a fall or spring, but on no account must we
separate."

So spoke the doctor, but Wilton was in no humour for obeying orders.

"I think you are wrong," he cried.

"Well," replied the doctor stiffly, "you have a right to think so, but
you might as well bear in mind that you have sworn to obey orders, that
I was elected to be chief of this expedition, and that it is your duty
to obey--in reason."

"Do you want to quarrel?" cried Wilton, clapping his hand to his
revolver-holster.

"Certainly not with a man half mad with thirst," said the doctor
quietly.  "Come, Wilton, be reasonable."

"Reasonable!  Are we not all half dead with thirst?"

"Suffering, not half dead," replied the doctor, who noted that Bourne
and Griggs had moved a little nearer to their angry companion.  "Now,
look here, we want your cool consideration of our position.  We have
water a few hundred yards away."

"What!  Where?"

"In the kegs, which lie where I told you."

"Oh, there!" cried Wilton contemptuously.  "We don't want that, but some
big clear flowing spring such as I offer to risk my life to find."

"Risk your life in another way," said the doctor firmly.

"How?"

"Go and fetch in the kegs from where they are lying."

"Bah!  If I am to die, it shall be a decent death--not stung by some
horrible reptile.  I'll risk losing my way going in search of water."

"I have already told you," said the doctor, "that the state of the
horses will not allow of such a search being made till they have had
such water as we have near.  The only thing to be done is to contrive
some way of getting the kegs here without risk."

"Exactly," said Bourne laconically; "but can you propose any way?  For I
must own that I cannot without horrible risk."

"At present no way," said the doctor sadly.  "My only hope is in the
horrible pests returning deeply underground at night; but I am sorry to
say I know very little about the habits of these creatures.  Do you,
Wilton?"

"No," replied their companion bitterly.  "Latin, Greek, and mathematics
were taught me, rattlesnakes left out."

"But you," said the doctor, wincing at his companion's contemptuous
manner, "you, Griggs, have seen a good deal of these reptiles in your
time?"

"Tidy bit, sir.  I saw one poor fellow die four hours after being
bitten, and I've killed a few of the varmint; but I've seen more of 'em
to-day than in all my life before."

"Then you cannot say whether it would be safe to risk an attempt to get
the kegs away?"

"Well, I don't know about that," said Griggs, who noted that Chris was
watching him intently.  "You see, sir, I've been thinking pretty closely
about that matter.  We must have those kegs somehow, even if the one who
gets 'em is bitten for his pains."

"Oh, but no such risk must be run," cried the doctor excitedly.

"It seems to me, sir, that it must.  There's half-a-dozen of us, and one
has to take his chance so that the other five may live."

"Our position is not so bad as that, Griggs," said the doctor warmly.

"I don't want to contradict, sir, but I about think it is.  It's the
sort of time like you read about at sea when they cast lots and one has
to swim ashore with a rope so as to get help.  We must have that water,
and Mr Wilton here says he won't risk the job of fetching the kegs, so
it rests with five of us instead of six.  Then you go a bit further and
one says, here's three men and two boys, and we who are men can't hold
back and let a boy go."

"Certainly not," said the doctor and Bourne, as if in one voice.

"Then we come down to three," continued Griggs, "and one of them is the
boss of the expedition--the captain.  He can't go, of course.  So you
see, Mr Bourne, it lies between us two."

"No, no," cried the doctor, "between us three."

"Us _two_, Mr Bourne," said the American, almost fiercely.  "The
doctor's out of it.  Now, sir, you're a deal better man than I am in
learning and proper living, and several other things that I've noticed
since we've been neighbours, all through your having been a minister, I
suppose?"

"I am but a man, Griggs, with the weaknesses of my nature."

"Exactly, sir," cried the American, totally misconstruing the speaker's
meaning.  "That's what I was aiming at--weaknesses of your nature.
Consequently I'm a much better man than you are for this job.  So we
want no casting lots, for I'm going to get those kegs out of that
serpent's nest, if I die for it."

"No, no," cried the doctor fiercely.  "I will not consent to your going.
We must try some other plan."

"There aren't no other plan, doctor."

"I think there is," cried Chris excitedly.

"Be silent, boy!" said the doctor.

"Yes, you're out, squire," said Griggs good-humouredly.  "You've had
your innings, and nearly got bitten.  That's taste enough for you.  Let
me have a bit of the fun.  But look here, doctor; when a man is bitten
you get out a bottle and a little squirt thing, make a hole in one of
the veins, and send in a lot of stuff, don't you?"

"Inject ammonia?" replied the doctor.  "Yes; as a resource after lancing
the wound and drawing out the poison, I should try that."

"Ammonia," said Griggs thoughtfully.  "Yes, that's it--counteracts the
poison, doesn't it?"

"Yes, and in some cases successfully, if it has been injected soon
enough."

"Hah!" cried the American.  "That's what I wanted to get at--soon
enough.  Now how would it be if to get quite soon enough you got out
your bottle and gave me a dose of that stuff before I started?"

"What, injected into one of your veins?"

"Yes, sir.  What do you say to that?"

"Impossible!  I would not venture upon such an experiment except with a
bitten subject."

"Sorry to hear that, sir," said Griggs thoughtfully.  "Well, how would
it be if I swallowed some?"

"I fear that it would be useless."

"Very well, sir; you know best, and I must do without it.  My boots will
pull up a bit higher, and I'll slip on another pair of trousers and my
thick jersey over my jacket; then if one of the beauties bites, his
teeth may not go through.  There'll only be my hands and face."

"But what do you propose doing--running in, seizing the kegs, and trying
to carry them out?"

"Nay, that makes the job too risky, sir.  It would be just stirring the
creatures up like bees in a hive, and they'd come raging out to fight.
I've got a better plan than that."

"Yes; what is it?" said the doctor, and Chris took a step nearer.

"Just this, sir.  I'll take a couple of the hide-ropes, knot them
together, and coil them up lasso fashion.  After that I'm going to make
a fire and heat one of these iron tent-pegs red-hot--one of those with
the eye to them.  Soon as it's well hot I'm going to bend it round into
a hook, slip one end of the rope through the eye and make fast, and then
I'm going to fish with that hook--throwing it in till it catches the keg
chain that couples them together, and as soon as I've got a bite run out
the line ready for a couple of us to haul the water right away clean
from the snake's nest.  What do you say to that?"

"I say it isn't fair," cried Chris excitedly.  "You, Ned, you are a
sneak to go and tell him."

"I didn't tell him," cried Ned indignantly.

"How did he know, then?" said Chris, growing angry.  "I never said a
word to any one else."

"What do you mean, Chris?" said the doctor sternly.

"Why, I invented that plan, father," cried Chris, "exactly as Griggs
says; and I was going to propose it, only Griggs spoke first."

"I never knew you thought the same way, squire," said Griggs quietly.

"It was my invention," said Chris warmly.

"Very well, lad, you may have it," said Griggs.  "It's yours, then."

"Yes," cried Chris, "and I'll go and throw the hook till I catch the
chain."

"Nay!  That's where I come in, my lad," cried Griggs.  "You shall have
all the credit, but I'll do the work."

"No, no," said Chris angrily.  "It's my invention, and I shall do it."

"No," said the doctor firmly; "you both had the same idea, my boy, but
Mr Griggs is your senior, he is better adapted for the dangerous task,
and you must give way."

"Must I, father?" said the boy, in a disappointed tone.

"Yes.  You have run risks enough for one day."

"Ha, ha!" cried Ned, laughing, to the astonishment of all, and his
satisfaction rang out in his tones.  "You can't do it, after all,
Griggs," and though he said no more his eyes looked a finish to the
sentence--serve you right for getting the better of Chris!

"Why can't I do it?" said Griggs quietly.

"Because there's no fire to heat the iron."

"But I can soon make one."

"What of?  Stones?"

Griggs brought his right fist down into his left hand with a loud
_spang_, uttering a low hiss the while, for there was not a scrap of
wood in sight.

Then his face lit up and he went to the mule laden with the tent, cast
loose a rope, and ran an iron ringed peg about two feet long off from
where it had been placed for safety, and walked off amongst the rocks
till he found a crevice suited to his purpose.  There he thrust the thin
end of the peg in between the sides some six inches, and exerting his
strength a little, bent the iron round till the lower part stood off at
right angles to the upper.  This done, he raised the iron, placed the
point upon the surface of a level block, and pressed heavily down, the
point yielding slowly, and, the iron being fairly soft, he very shortly
produced a roughly-made hook.

"'Taint so neat as I could wish," he said quietly; "but it is a hook,
and you can't call it anything else."

"Yes," said Chris frankly, "and it's a better one than I expected; but
wouldn't it be better to try if you can catch the chain with it before
it gets dark?"

"He would have to keep on throwing several times perhaps," said Bourne,
"and bring the snakes swarming out."

"Well I don't know that it would matter much," said Griggs thoughtfully.
"I should be standing perhaps a dozen yards from where the hook kept on
falling, and they'd strike at it and not at me.  I shall try it at once,
doctor, for it'll be far better than doing it by lanthorn light."

"Yes," said the doctor thoughtfully; "and at the worst, if the reptiles
swarmed out, we would hurry away till they settled down again."

"Yes," said Griggs, with a quick nod of the head, and a few minutes
later he had his tackle ready, the hook securely tied on, the rope
hanging in coils from his hand, and all ready for the advance.

"I'll go alone, please, and at once," he said sharply.  "In ten minutes
it will be getting dusk.  Did any one notice whether the chain lay at
the top?"

"Yes," cried Chris sharply; "I did.  So that it would be quite easy to
catch."

"Good," cried Griggs, in a satisfied tone.  "Then here goes."

"Promise me you'll be careful, Griggs," said the doctor.

"Yes, sir," said the American, smiling, "if you'll strike a bargain."

"What do you mean?"

"Promise me you'll have that stuff ready to give me a strong dose if I'm
bitten."

"Trust me," said the doctor.

"And trust me, sir," cried Griggs.

The next minute he was striding along over the sand in and out amongst
the scattered blocks of stone, and followed by his friends, cautiously
on the alert for any reptiles that might be coiled up asleep.

But it was past their time; the sun had gone down, and the dusk of
evening was rapidly growing into darkness, showing the party that if
they had waited until a lanthorn was necessary there would have been
great difficulty in putting into practice that which in theory sounded
as easy as drawing on a glove.

Not a snake was to be seen when the party halted, following Griggs's
example, and standing about thirty feet behind him, the many blocks of
rugged stone in front completely hiding the place where the barrels lay.

"Can you see any of the enemy?" said the doctor, just loudly enough for
his voice to reach the American's ears.

Griggs turned quickly, shook his head to indicate that the coast was
clear, and then turned back to face his task.

The next minute they saw the deftly-thrown hook flying through the air,
describing a curve, and the rings of the rope opening out as they
followed the iron.

There was a loud jangling sound, and Chris held his breath as he saw the
operator begin to draw upon the rope hand over hand, fully expecting to
see a check, and that the hook had caught.

The boy was not disappointed--it had, and Chris uttered a low cheer.

"Got it!" he whispered.--"Why is he doing that?"

_That_ was the jerking of the rope to set it at liberty to be drawn in
again, for the simple reason that the catch was only the corner of a
rock.

But Griggs was soon ready again, and he mounted on to the top of a stone
before taking careful aim, as he swung the hook to and fro, and then
once more launched it through the air, to fall this time with a dull
sound as if it had struck upon wood.

"He'll do it this time," whispered Ned excitedly.  "Yes: he has got it."

For as Griggs hauled there was again a check, evidently, from the sound
of the iron, against wood.

"Oh!" groaned Chris, as they saw the rope hauled in again quickly for
another throw.  "What a while he is!  He won't be able to see."

"All right, Chris," cried Ned cheerily; "third time never fails."

"We shall have to do it, Ned," replied Chris merrily.  "Now then, once
to be ready, twice to be steady, three times to be off: there it goes."

Away went the hook, and after it the dimly-seen coils of rope, followed
by a sharp clang again of iron upon stone.

"Now he's hauling," whispered Ned, and all held their breath, for the
change from daylight into darkness was rapidly going on, and Griggs's
figure standing erect upon the grey rock began to look as if some thin,
filmy, smoke-tinted veil was being drawn over it.

_Tchingle_! came--clearly heard!

"Hurrah!" cried Chris.  "He has caught the chain this time.  He'll want
us to help haul."

The boy strained forward as if ready to start at the first call; but he
did not, for no call came, but Griggs himself began to move sharply
after a tug at the rope, and then leaping down from the stone upon which
he had stood, he came running towards them swiftly, dodging in and out
amongst the stones standing in his way.

"Off with you," he shouted; "the varmint are coming along the rope!"

All turned at the order, retreating steadily to allow Griggs to overtake
them, which he did directly.

"I don't think we need go far," he said.  "I don't suppose they'll come
further than the end of the rope.  I could see dozens of them striking
at the barrel and the hook at that last throw.  We shall have to let
them settle down before we try to get the water, but I've hooked the
chain fast."

"Then we can do the rest after dark," said the doctor.

"Well, not quite, sir.  We shall have to bring a light to find the end
of the rope and see that there are none of the reptiles hanging on to
it."

"Yes, exactly."

"Why not bring one of the mules next time?" cried Chris eagerly.

"What for?" said Griggs sharply.

"To make fast the line to his saddle or pack, and let him drag the
barrels over the sand."

"Good!" cried Griggs.

"Excellent!" said the doctor.

"I wonder whether the snakes will follow when the kegs are being dragged
over the sand?" said Bourne.

"I don't think they will, sir," said the American.  "They might perhaps
if there are any about after dark, but there are lots of small stones
about where they lie, and the critters will have an ugly time of it
ground under those two heavy tubs."

"I'm in hopes that we shall have no further trouble," said the doctor
thoughtfully.  "The only thing to decide now is, how long had we better
wait?"

"An hour," said Wilton decisively; and that hour was passed in luxury,
for a soft cool air came whispering among the reeking stones which had
been bathing all day long in the sunshine, and there was a crispness and
revivifying sensation in that gentle evening breeze which seemed to
affect even the animals, the mules crouching down in the sand and the
horses standing facing the quarter from which the wind blew, as if
satisfied to wait for the water that they instinctively expected would
come.

The hour seemed long, and then with a dull star-like lanthorn Griggs
began to pick his way through the transparent darkness, holding the
light low in his lookout for enemies, till the end of the rope was
found, though not without difficulty, the boys, who led one of the mules
between them, having to stop at last and wait till the search came to an
end.

"No snakes about here," said Griggs, in a low voice; "bring the mule on,
lads.  That's right.  Now then, turn.  Back him a little more."

This was done, the rope made fast to the pack-saddle, and all was ready.

"Now," said the doctor, "will the enemy follow the two kegs or no?
Forward!"



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SADDLE NAPS.

The start was made in the direction of the spot where the rest of the
train was gathered together, and with all present feeling flushed with
excitement and in dread of what might happen, the rope tightened with a
jerk, and then threatened to break, for there was no yielding on the
part of the kegs after they had followed for a few yards, the sound
announcing that they had caught and become wedged amongst the stones.

In the midst of a painful silence Griggs said in rather an altered
tone--

"Well, it's of no use to make bones about it.  I shall have to go and
give 'em a clearing shove or two."

"You'll do no such mad thing," cried the doctor angrily.  "If the
rattlesnakes will face the darkness they must be swarming out of their
holes after this disturbance.  Here, start afresh, Chris.  Take the
mule's rein and lead him on steadily a little more to the right."

This was done, but the kegs did not move.

"Try to the left now, my boy."

Chris led the animal in the required direction, but the kegs remained
fast.

"You'll break the rope," said Griggs.

"Then we must make fast another," replied the doctor.  "We must go
farther off now, and pull at right angles."

"You'll only get the rope cut by some of the upright stones," said
Griggs bitterly.  "It's of no use, doctor.  I must go back and--"

_Bump_!

At that moment, before the American had finished his sentence, there was
a quick movement, the tubs had yielded to the steady strain kept up by
the mule, and for the next few minutes they came on, gliding easily over
the sand, bumping and hopping over stones, against some of which they
collided in a way that threatened to knock off hoops or drive in staves,
but they kept on coming till the mule reached the first of its
companions, when the doctor called a halt.

"Now then," he said, "lanthorn here!"

"What are you going to do, father?" cried Chris anxiously.

"Pass the light along the rope till I reach the tubs, to see if there
are any snakes twisted about the chain."

"Nay, that's my job, sir," cried Griggs eagerly.

"We'll go together," said the doctor.  "Every one else stand back."

The next minute Chris and Ned stood anxiously watching the light of the
lanthorn, which was made to run along the rope and the ground till it
played only upon the two kegs, which looked dull and indistinct by the
shadowy figures which could be dimly-seen.

"Look out, sir; there's one!" shouted Griggs out of the gloom, and the
lanthorn seemed to make a sudden jump.

So did Chris's heart at the thought of the danger to which his father
might be exposed.

The next moment the boy's pulsations seemed to have ceased, but only for
a heavy throbbing to set in, before he gave vent to a low gasp of
relief.  For the doctor's voice came clearly to them in the grateful
word, "_Crushed_!"

"It's all right, sir," said Griggs loudly then.  "I've cut through him
twice, and he has dropped off.  Haul away there and pull 'em close up."

The order was obeyed by hand, and the kegs, illumined by the light cast
upon them by the lanthorn, were drawn right up to the halting-place.

"Don't cheer, boys," said the doctor, anticipating a shout.  "Here,
Griggs," he continued, "let's have a little sand over the chain where
you cut that horrible reptile away."

"Hold the light a little lower, sir," said the American.  "It's all
right," he added the next minute, after the light had played over the
connecting-links of the two kegs.  "Sand's cleared it all away as they
came.  They're as clean as can be.  I can't see anything on the rope or
hook either."

"Was there one on it?" asked Chris eagerly.

"Yes, a big 'un," replied Griggs.  "He'd tied himself in a tight knot
close round the hook and the chain."

"It must have been that he was crushed when the kegs were first moved,"
said the doctor.

"Nay, sir; I fancy that it was when I hooked the chain.  I fancy I must
have caught him fast and dragged him close up."

"And then, in resentment," said the doctor, "the beast twined itself up
tightly;--just like an eel on a night-line, boys," he added.

"Did you cut it away, Griggs?" asked Chris.

"Yes.  I just slipped the point of my knife in between two of his coils
twice over, gave a sharp push, and he dropped down wriggling at once."

"Did you see many more?" asked Ned.

"Nary one, my lad."

"A bucket here," said the doctor.  "Let's run out a pannikin from one
keg for each of the mustangs."

"Won't want a bucket then, sir."

"Nonsense, man!  We can't give the mustangs their drop out of a tin.  I
want it poured into the bottom of the bucket so that each can suck it up
to the last drop."

"I see, sir," cried Griggs, and as the tompion-like stop was unscrewed
from the bung-hole of a keg, a shallow iron bucket was cast loose from
one of the mule's loads, the noise in the darkness nearly driving the
whole team frantic, connecting the rattle of the handle as they did with
water.

But they were kept back while the mustangs each took their tiny
portions, uttering a piteous remonstrance-like sigh as the bucket was
withdrawn again from its muzzle; and this done, the mules had their
turn, two of them proving outrageous after getting their taste of water,
Skeeter, as Griggs called him, seizing the edge of the bucket with his
teeth and holding on till a sharp crack on the flank made him let go.

"Poor brutes!" said Ned's father.  "It seems very hard upon them.  Such
a tiny drop each."

"Yes," replied the doctor, "but a score of these tiny drops make a hole
in the contents of the keg.  There, I don't think we have been
unmerciful to our beasts.  They have had the first turn.  It is ours
now."

The animals were driven back, and after the first keg had been as
carefully closed up as if its contents were fine gold-dust, the second
was opened, and a tin mug filled by the doctor, Wilton holding the
little cask.

"Now, Ned, you're the youngest," cried the doctor.

"Oh, you have some first, sir," said the boy.

"Tip it up," cried the doctor fiercely.  "My good lad, you don't know
what agony it is to practise self-denial and etiquette at a time like
this."

The doctor spoke so fiercely that his words, combined with the intense
thirst from which he suffered, made the boy raise the cup to his lips,
to feel a thrill of delight as the lukewarm water trickled down his
parched throat.

The next moment, thanks to his father's teaching, he literally dragged
the cup from his lips and thrust it in the face of Chris, who was
looking at him by the lanthorn light, feeling in agony, and as if his
eyes were starting out of his head.

"No, no!" he panted.

"Drink!" yelled Ned savagely.

"Yes, drink, boy!" cried the doctor.  "Quick!"

The doubling of the emphatic command made Chris obey, and he too sighed
bitterly as he drained the last drop from the half-filled mug and passed
it back.

"Quick, no more ceremony," cried the doctor, "or I shall be ready to
forget myself, for I'm half mad with thirst.  Fill up, Wilton.  Now,
Bourne, drink."

"No, no; you first."

"Drink!" roared the doctor, in a tone which startled his son, and
without another word Ned's father half emptied the mug and handed it to
Wilton, who hurriedly drained it, and began to fill it once more.

"My turn to order now," he cried, holding it to the doctor.  "We've all
had a taste now, Lee; you drink all that."

Griggs did not move a muscle, but stood firm, holding the lanthorn now;
but he gave a side glance at the glistening cup as the doctor drank,
suffering agony the while, but only to heave a sigh of thankfulness on
seeing that his leader only swallowed half and then passed him the
remainder.

"I thought dad wouldn't forget him," whispered Chris to Ned, and perhaps
it might have been only a couple of drops of the water that had gone the
wrong way, but certainly something like a couple of tears glistened for
a few moments in Chris's eyes.

"Thank ye, doctor," said Griggs hoarsely, and the next moment there was
a sound like _glug_--_glug_!! and the tin mug was empty.

"Must have another drink round; eh, doctor?" said Wilton.

"Drink?" was the reply.  "Well, yes; fill up.  We must find water
to-morrow."

Half a cupful was passed to each then, swallowed with avidity, and then
Wilton sighed as he helped to secure the tompion in its place.

"Now," cried the doctor, "we all want to lie down and rest, but I'm sure
we should none of us sleep for thinking of water.  The night is fairly
clear, and I feel that I can guide you up the rising ground, so I
propose that we go on at once."

"Yes, yes," cried Bourne; "on at any cost, to get away from this
horrible nest of reptiles."

"But suppose we go blundering on among them," cried Wilton.  "What do
you say, Griggs?"

"I say let's get on, sir, for if we stop here we shall be getting no
nearer water, and we shall be having the snakes coming to see where we
are for killing that last one of their friends."

To get away from the horrors that haunted the spot was the great desire
of all, and with the doctor and Griggs leading, the first a little in
advance, and bearing the light, so as to avoid the blocks of stone
projecting from the sand, the little party went slowly on hour after
hour, ready to stop again and again to throw themselves down and rest.
But no one dared to do so lest the jar given to the earth should send
some of the poisonous reptiles to the surface in search of the enemy
that had intruded upon the solitude which they seemed from their numbers
to have marked down for their own domain.

The greater part of that night seemed to the two boys like a feverish
dream, during which they had been compelled by some strange force to
keep plodding on through horrors unspeakable, and tortured by a thirst
that was maddening.

At times, where the stones lay thick, hardly a word was spoken, but now
and again Chris would begin questioning his companion loudly, eager to
obtain his opinion as to whether he did not think it must be nearly
morning.

But Ned's answers were not encouraging.  There was no romance in them;
they were too near the truth to suit Chris, and he liked them the less
because at heart he felt that they must be correct and his own hopes too
sanguine.  But all the same he clung to his own ideas--they were so
tempting.  They were that with daylight they should have reached the end
of the wild desert, and that from high up on some sunlit slope they
would be gazing down into a broad green valley--some natural paradise
through which flowed a rippling stream.

He described his notions to Ned, who seemed to be listening attentively
in the darkness, and now and then said "Oh," or "Ah, yes;" but all the
time he was clinging involuntarily to his saddle, his head nodding
forward again and again, only to be brought back to the perpendicular
with a jerk, while Chris was too drowsy himself to notice it, as he went
muttering on.

"It won't be the place where the gold city and temple are, Ned," he
said; "but it will be just the spot where we can rest for a few days."

"Ah!" said Ned.

"There'll be fish in that river, you know," said Chris--"salmon that
have come up out of the Pacific; and we can spear them after we've drunk
all we want, and bathed till we've soaked all this horrible dryness out
of our skins.  All along by the river too there'll be park-like
meadows--meadows--green meadows.  Do you hear?"  Ned grunted.

"And in those park-like prairie places there are sure to be droves of
buffalo.  Beef--do you hear?--beef!"

Chris's head bowed down as if he were going to lay his forehead upon his
mustang's neck; but the thought of roast beef woke him up again, and he
clung a little more tightly with his knees and kept on with his
muttering.

"I say, don't go to sleep, Ned," he said, as he saw his companion follow
his own example and bow low.  "I feel as sure as sure that's the sort of
place we shall come to.  There'll be great spreading fir-trees too, such
as Griggs talked about seeing up north in the Rockies--trees with boughs
that will keep off the sun and rain, eh?"

"Ah!" grunted Ned.

"It will be just the place that we want, to give the horses and mules a
good long rest for a few days, to feed up well on good pasture while we
shoot, and amuse ourselves, and kill buffalo, and eat hot roast beef--
hot roast beef.  And drink beautiful, clear, cold water--and you can lie
down upon your chest with your face over the running stream, and drink
as long as you like of the clear, cold, sparkling water--sparkling
water--sparkling water--sparkling--wa--"

"Ah!" said Ned.

"Come, boys; come, boys!" said a familiar voice out of the darkness.

"Sparkling water," repeated Chris drowsily.  "Much as you like, Mr
Bourne."

"To be sure, my boy," said the owner of the name, laying one hand upon
Chris's shoulder, the other upon Ned's, but with no effect whatever save
to make them both seem to roll in their saddles as he forced his horse
in between them.  "Sit up; come, or you'll be falling out of the saddle.
Very sleepy, Ned?"

"Ah!" grunted the boy.

"Poor fellow!" said Bourne, with a sigh.  Then aloud--"Can't you keep
awake, Chris?"

"Spear fish--salmon--sparkling water," sighed the boy, bowing very low
this time.

"Come, try and wake up, my lad; we're getting on higher ground, and it's
not so rocky here.  As soon as day begins to break we shall come to a
halt, and rest for a few hours--that is, if we can be sure that there
are no rattlesnakes near."

"Eh?  Snakes?" said Chris, sitting very upright now, and gazing in the
face of Ned's father.  "Yes, snakes.  Made the water taste snaky.
Horrid!  Dries up your tongue.  Tasted snaky."

"Mine didn't," said Bourne.  "I thought it was the sweetest drop I ever
tasted in my life.  Come, come, Ned; do you want me to hold you on your
pony?  Keep up a little longer, boy."

"Ah!" grunted Ned, straightening himself and feeling about for the
reins, which had escaped his hand, not that any guidance was wanted, the
intelligent beast following the fight of the lanthorn, clearly seen
moving ahead as Griggs' mustang plodded on.

"Why, you're asleep, Ned."

"No, father," answered the boy, telling a most brazen falsehood, for the
moment before he was breathing so hard that the sounds were first
cousins to heavy snores.

"That's right, then.  We've had a long weary ride to-day, but we're
going up-hill now and the air's growing cooler.  We must be leaving the
sandy plains behind."

"Yes, leave behind.  Won't fall off," muttered Ned, who was sinking fast
into a state of stupor.

And all the while from ahead, close by the moving lanthorn, came the
musical _cling, cling, cling, cling_ of the mules' bell, with the low
muttering sound made by the doctor and Griggs as they entered into a
conversation about the state of the country into which they were
penetrating.

"Poor fellows!" said Bourne half-aloud.  "I can do nothing to keep them
awake.  Perhaps they will not fall off, after all."

It was growing darker, but he noted that the mustangs seemed to regulate
their movements to those of their riders, and in nowise altered their
steady walk when one or the other lurched and made a spasmodic effort to
recover himself.

Then Bourne sighed and looked right ahead at the dull star of the
lanthorn in front, some of whose rays fell from time to time upon the
moving pack carried by one of the mules.  From that he turned his eyes
upward to the glorious stars, whose rays gave just sufficient light to
enable the line of animals to avoid any obstacle in the way, though that
was seldom, for Skeeter plodded steadily along with his bell, and the
mules which followed almost planted their hoofs, elephant-fashion, in
the prints made by those which had gone before.

"What a long, long, weary night!" sighed Bourne at last.  "Will the
morning never come?"

"Who's that?"--a sharp voice from close behind.

"I.  Anything the matter, Wilton?"

"Yes; I nearly fell off my nag just now, to be left behind."

"You mustn't do that.  'Ware snakes."

"Oh, don't mention them," came with a shudder.  "But thank goodness!"

"By all means; but for what in particular now?"

"You gave me such a fright."

"I did?  How?  I've been here with the boys for the last quarter of an
hour."

"The boys?  Where are they?"

"Here, one each side."

"Oh!  I thought those were mules with packs.  Do you hear, lads?"

There was no reply.

"What's the matter with them?  Tired and sulky?"

"Tired?  Yes!  Sulky?  No.  They're both fast asleep."

"Poor fellows!  No wonder.  So was I just now."

"But you said I gave you a fright.  I did nothing.  What was it?"

"I was fast asleep, I tell you, holding on I suppose by my knees, when I
woke up and found that you were not by my side."

"But I told you I was going to ride on and see how the boys were getting
on."

"Did you?  I didn't hear a word.  I must have been sound."

"But you answered me, and said, `All right.'"

"Very likely, but it was in my sleep.  When I woke up, though, and found
you were not with me, it was a regular shock, for I thought you must
have fallen off and be lying somewhere in the darkness and your nag
beside you.  The sensation was horrible, for in my stupid sleepy state I
felt that we might never find you again."

"How horrible!"

"It was, I can tell you.  It roused me up a bit, and I had common-sense
enough left in the midst of my scare to push on first and make sure.
You can't think what a feeling of relief it gave me when you answered.
I say, it would be awful if either of us were lost."

"Awful indeed," said Bourne, with a sigh.  "We're on a wild chase,
Wilton."

"We are; but we're in for it, and we must carry it through."

"I suppose so; but one night like this is enough.  I say, will it ever
be morning?"

There was no reply, and they went on for a few minutes in silence, and
then there was a sudden check.

"What's wrong now?" said Wilton sharply.

"Anything the matter, Lee?" cried Bourne, for the mules seemed to have
come to a sudden stop, just as if all had been moved by one impulse
communicated to them by their leader.

"I don't know yet, and I'm obliged to be very cautious."

"Strikes me that we've been coming up and up for the last hour, sir,"
said Griggs, "and that we're now just at the edge of a canon with a drop
down to nowhere just ahead.  Skeeter came to a stop all at once."

"I'll get down and see what I can make out with the lanthorn."

"Wait a minute, sir, while I get a rope uncoiled.  You shall have it
fast round you and the other end to my saddle.  These places go straight
down sometimes hundreds of feet to a river.  Listen!  Can you hear
water?"

There was silence for a few moments before the doctor said--

"No."

"Too deep down perhaps, sir."

"Well, I can soon see if I go cautiously, and you let the rope pass
slowly through your hands.  But try first if the bell-mule will take a
step or two in advance."

"Not he, sir.  I can see; he's got his legs all spread-out like a
milking-stool."

The doctor was off his horse, and the next minute he was advancing
slowly, with the lanthorn held near the ground.

"There's nothing here that need have stopped him, but--Oh, what a
blessing!"

"What is, sir?"

"Here's short grass, and the mules cropping it."

"Then there's no canon, sir," said Griggs sharply.  "The poor brutes are
all dead beat; they've come to something that they can nibble, and
they've struck work.  The ponies are at it too.  It's as good as saying
that they won't stir another peg till daylight, if they will then."

"Why, two of the mules have regularly squatted down, with their loads
touching the ground," said the doctor, holding up the lanthorn.

"Yes, it's all right, sir," cried Griggs.  "There's no canon, but level
ground all about, I'll be bound.  They've called a halt without being
told, so we must do the same."

"But here, with those horrible snakes about?" cried Bourne.

"None here, sir," said Griggs.  "If there were one it would have been
smelt out by this time, and the poor beasts wouldn't have been so quiet.
Oh, we're right for a time, sir; and, I say, hadn't we better follow
the beasts' example and find a bit of something to eat?"

"And drink?" said Wilton.

"Nay, eating will make our mouths turn a bit moist; we've no business to
touch any more of that water till we know where the next is to come
from.  Let's chance it, sir, and relieve the poor brutes of their
packs."

"Very well," said the doctor, "but I don't like halting without knowing
our ground.  You know my rules that I laid down."

"No rule without an exception," said Wilton drowsily.  "This is one.  I
don't want anything to eat, but if I die for it I must sleep."

"Well, I'll do the best I can to keep watch with the lanthorn," said the
doctor; "but some one must relieve me soon."

"Put the light out, sir," said Griggs.  "There's morning coming yonder.
It's of no use, sir.  We must chance everything and sleep.  I can't keep
awake any more."

"Let's have the packs off, then.  By the way, where are the boys?"

"Here are their ponies," replied Bourne, peering about in the darkness.
"Tut, tut, tut!  Here they are upon the ground, fast asleep too.  Here,
Ned--Chris!  Wake up, my lads; you can't lie there."

Ned's father was never more away from the truth in an assertion.  In
fact, he was quite wrong, for the two boys were proving that they could
lie there, and were sleeping heavily, careless of snakes, and ponies' or
mules' hoofs, careless of everything but obeying the stern dictates of a
monitor who bade them sleep and make up for lost time.

Hunger and thirst did not exist to them then, nor did they to any other
member of the expedition, for when day came brightly, not very long
after, it was to look down upon the strange group of horses, mules,
packs, and men, lying anyhow upon a wide down-like place covered with
thin, short, crisp grass, which the animals were browsing upon
contentedly enough.

Fortunately for the party there was no sign of danger far or near--
nothing but rolling down for a few miles, and beyond that mountains
towering up towards the clouds, looking clear and distinct in the pearly
grey of morning, and apparently close at hand, though some sixty or
seventy miles away.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE, BUT--

"Hallo!  What's that?" said Chris softly, as he lay on his left side
gazing at an elevation about a couple of feet from his nose; and it was
some time before he could make out that it was a sack, stuffed so full
that it threatened to burst the coarse stitches down one side.

His head felt confused and thick.  His thinking apparatus would not work
properly, but seemed to be struggling to carry on the narrative of some
weary dream in which there had been snakes, heat, thirst, and riding,
till his bones seemed to ache and he felt sore all over.

It was very puzzling, and though he tried to make out where he was, he
could see nothing but that big sack.

After lying still for some minutes, his reasoning powers began to act,
and overcoming the disinclination to move, consequent upon his being so
horribly stiff, he gave himself a wrench and turned right over on his
other side.

This brought a little illumination, bodily and mental too, for the sun
was beating down upon his face making him raise his hand stiffly to
shade his eyes; and there before him lay Ned, flat upon his back, with
his mouth wide open.

The mist floating in his brain now began to disperse, and rising upon
one elbow he could see first one and then another of the party, lying
fast asleep in different attitudes with the packs belonging to the
expedition dotted-about anyhow, just as they had been released from the
mules' backs.

Then there were the bearers of the said packs about a couple of hundred
yards away, every one with its muzzle near the ground, browsing busily
at some kind of low, scrubby, greyish growth that looked like very dwarf
juniper, while in quite another direction, there they were--all six--
forming a group to themselves--the mustangs, their saddles still on and
the reins upon the ground, cropping away at the thin wiry grass that
clothed the sandy earth.

"Of course; I recollect now," thought Chris.  "I went to sleep on my
pony, and must have fallen off without waking.  Am I hurt?"

He screwed himself about and raised arms and legs, wincing a little the
while.

"Yes, I am hurt," he muttered.  "I can hardly move, but I don't think
anything's broken: it's just as if the mules had been kicking me and the
ponies walking about on my chest."

His eyes wandered round again, and he sat up now with a start, the
aforesaid eyes dilating and the lids getting so wide that he showed a
good deal of white, while it seemed as if all the blood in his body had
rushed to his heart, so horrible were his thoughts.  But he could see no
sign of rattlesnakes, and the heavy throbbing in his breast calmed down,
to give place to a sensation of pleasure, as he breathed in the fresh
elastic air and let his eyes rest upon a great blue mountain which
towered up above a clump of a dozen or so on one side and as many more
spreading away in a row, their tops looking like the teeth of a gigantic
saw.  In fact, it was one of the ranges to which the old Spanish
settlers gave the name of Sierras.

"It is not what I dreamed about," said Chris to himself.  "Let me see--
yes, that was of looking down into a glorious green valley with a
sparkling river running through and beautiful park-like prairies on each
side for the mules and ponies to graze in while we hunted and shot the
buffaloes.  Of course; I remember it all quite clearly, and about our
going to bathe and drink, and--oh, how thirsty I am!"

"Why, there must be water here, or the animals wouldn't be so contented.
Get enough juice out of what they're eating, I suppose," he added,
after a few minutes' more thought.  "Well, this is a hundred times
better than the salt desert, and there must be water in the valleys over
yonder.  How blue it all looks!  That doesn't seem as if there were
trees, because they'd look green.  But there must be valleys because
there are mountains, and--Here, I say, Ned, don't snore like that," he
said aloud.  "Wake up, lazy!  It's ever so late."

His words having no effect, he reached out one foot and gave the boy
such a vigorous push that Ned sat up, staring.

"Who--Here, you, Chris, why did you kick me like that?" he cried.

"I didn't kick, only pushed.  To wake you up.  You can't sleep all day.
Oh, I say, what a face you've got!"

Ned, who had roused up at once, clapped his hands to the part of his
person alluded to, and retaliated.

"So have you got a face," he cried.  "Why, it looks as if it had got a
crust of salt and sand all over it."

"So it has, I suppose," said Chris, rather gruffly, as he began to pat
his cheeks softly, rub his eyes, and then deal very tenderly with his
cracked lips.  "Oh dear, shouldn't I like a swim, even if it was only in
a water-hole that was half mud!"

"But I say, Chris, look here.  What about the rattlesnakes?  Have we
left them all behind?"

"I hope so.  There seems to be no sign of any here."

"And I say, this is quite a different sort of country.  Look at the
mountains."

"I have."

"We must be all right then, now," continued Ned.  "I began to think
yesterday that we were going to tramp along till the heat and thirst
were too much for us, and we had to lie down and die.  I say, I
shouldn't have liked that."

"And you'll never find any one who would.  Bother the old gold!  It
would have been horrid.  Better have gone on weeding in the plantation."

"Ever so much; but do you think the place marked in the plan is over
yonder?"

Ned pointed at the beautiful amethystine mountains, but Chris shook his
head.

"Don't look like the place; but never mind that now.  Let's see about
breakfast."

The boys rose as if animated by one spirit, and stood looking round.

"What about a fire?" said Ned dismally.

"No wood," replied Chris, with a groan, and his voice made his father
start, look sharply round, and spring to his feet.

"Ah, boys!" he cried.  "How long have you been awake?"

This question, loudly uttered, had the effect of a call to the other
sleepers, who rose to their feet to look about in a dazed and wondering
manner, but with signs of satisfaction dawning upon their countenances
as they grasped the improvement in their position.

"Yes," said the doctor, after a brief conversation, "the cattle are all
right, and will be able to go on after another hour's grazing; but there
is no water, I'm afraid, nearer than the mountains yonder."

"But there'll be plenty there, doctor," said Griggs confidently, "and I
don't see that we need wait for the animals to graze any more; they
haven't done much amiss by the state of their portmanteaus.  We can halt
again when we like, and the pasture's sure to get better as we go along
towards the mountain-slopes.  Would you mind getting out your glass?"

This was quickly done, and the American focussed it and stood gazing
long and intently at the distant range.

"Far as I can make out," he said at last, "there's river and valley and
forest yonder, sir."

"Forests with blue trees, Griggs?" said Chris.

"Forests with trees that look blue at this distance," replied the
American.  "That last makes a wonderful difference in the look of
things.  So do sunrise and sunset.  Why, you've seen the woods look
orange and scarlet, haven't you?"

"Yes, of course," said Chris, looking abashed.  "I forgot.  But, I say,
if there were water there, shouldn't we see it glitter?"

"Not a bit.  Don't you know how the rivers in these parts run down in
the canons?  Why, I've seen a dozen or two that you didn't know were
there when you were a hundred yards away."

"And these may be ten miles off," cried Ned.

"Ten?  Yes, quite that," said Griggs dryly.

"Ah, they're a long way off, Ned, my boy," said Bourne thoughtfully.
"How far do you make it, Griggs?"

"Well, sir, I should say it's a hundred miles from here to the highest
part of that peak."

"A hundred miles!" cried Ned.

"Yes, and a good sixty to the hills about the foot."

"Then we shan't get there to-day," said the doctor decisively.

"If we do half of it, sir, we shan't have done badly," replied Griggs;
"but in thirty miles I fancy we shall have reached water, and be in a
better country than we're in now, worse luck."

"What!" cried Chris.

"What I say, squire.  We don't want to go dawdling about in pretty
places.  We must go yonder for rest and water, say for a day or two, but
the old prospector's map won't fit in there."

"How do you know?" said Wilton sharply.

"Because if there'd been a landmark like that big peak anywhere near the
city he'd have been safe to mark it down."

"Of course," said the doctor thoughtfully.  "Where should you think that
mountain is?"

"Don't know, sir, and I don't see that it matters to us in what State
the old temple and its treasure is.  All we've got to do is to find the
wilderness that hides it away, and we may as well make up our minds that
it'll take all the patience we can store up.  But what do you say about
our start, sir?"

"As soon as we have had something in the way of breakfast," replied the
doctor.  "Unfortunately we can have no coffee.  It seems impossible to
scrape together enough fuel to make a fire."

"Not till to-night, sir, but I think we might drink what water we like.
The horses and mules will be able to get along without."

"Yes, we might venture upon a tinful each before starting," said the
doctor.

That tinful each was the first part of the meal, and declared merrily by
both boys to have quite a rattle-snaky flavour.  The solid portion of
the late breakfast was not appetising.

"But never mind, squires," cried Griggs cheerily; "we're going to get
game as we go along to-day.  It'll be roast birds for dinner if you keep
your eyes open.  I don't mean for the game."

"For what then?" asked Chris.

"The wood to cook it, my lad.  We must carry the axe ready, and if we do
happen to come across a few shrubs they must be loaded on top of the
water-kegs, for the mule that carries them is getting to have a precious
light load, and he deserves a heavy one for causing us all that trouble
yesterday."

A very short time after they were going straight for the mountain--the
great peak forming their goal, and the doctor taking its bearings by
compass so as to know their route if mist should hide it, and when
darkness came on.

To the surprise of all, both ponies and mules stepped briskly and well,
the pasture upon which they had been busy having had a wonderfully good
effect.  The hardy beasts seemed now to need no water, and made light of
their loads, while as the stiffness suffered by the riders passed off
with movement in the warm bracing air, the difficulties and perils of
the past seemed to die away.

Griggs proved to be right, too, before they had been two hours on the
way, for first one or two, then a covey of the large partridge-like
birds that haunted the open appeared, and as the day went on several
plump additions to their stores fell to the guns.

But the wood was so far wanting, and it was not until evening was
approaching that they came upon a scattered patch of trees, which grew
for a long distance in a meandering way, just one here and there, and
from which a sufficiency for their purpose was obtained; but the pasture
was no more plentiful, and they kept on, till all at once Griggs slapped
his hand down heavily upon his leg.

"Got it!" he cried.

"Got what?" exclaimed the doctor, and the boys stared.

"That idea.  Can't you see, doctor?  These trees have been all along on
our right for quite a time."

"Yes, that's plain enough," was the reply.

"And they go right on as far as we can see, wandering in and out, but
getting thicker."

"Yes, I can see all that, but I confess that I don't see what it has to
do with your excitement."

"Don't you, doctor?" cried Griggs.  "Well, it means this: there's been a
watercourse here some time or other, and there's enough moisture
underground to keep these little scrubby trees alive."

"I see.  It is possible."

"As it gets farther from the hills there are fewer trees, but as we
follow it up you can see they are getting thicker, and I believe that if
we keep on far enough we shall come upon grass and water, perhaps a
pool."

"Then we'll keep on," said the doctor, "certainly; and may you prove to
be right."

Griggs did prove to be right, for when the course of the trees had been
followed for about four miles, the party found themselves upon a marshy
patch of a vivid green, the trees they had followed ending at the very
edge.  Pools of clear water were plentiful, and the banks and swampy
ground between them and the lakes were rich in deep green succulent and
coarse reeds and grassy patches such as cattle delight in.

A dry slope some fifty feet above the swamp was soon selected for the
temporary halt--a place which proved to be quite free from reptiles; and
here the mules were unladen, the fire was lit, and the boys joined
eagerly in the culinary preparations, all being eager to help in the
preparation of the evening meal.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

PEACE AND PLENTY.

"What do you think of this, boys?" said Griggs, at sunrise the next
morning.

"Splendid!" cried Chris.

"Glorious!" shouted Ned.  "Oh, bother the old gold and the tramping
through choking deserts.  Come along, Chris."

"Here, what are you going to do?" cried Griggs.

"Swell ourselves out again," replied Chris.  "I'm dried-up like a stalk
with all that miserable tramping, and I shan't come right again till
I've been in for an hour."

"In where?"

"Why, in that big pool.  You listen.  You can hear me crackle with the
salt and dust caked over me.  I'm afraid to laugh, for fear I should
crack my skin."

"Get out!  But a good wash will be a treat.  I say, though, that place
looks deep.  You can both swim very well?"

"Oh, tidily--eh, Ned?"

"I should think so!"

"That's all right then," said Griggs; "but how about--"

"About what?" cried Chris, for the American stopped.

"The anacondas and alligators and snapping turtles and garfish with
teeth sharp as sharks?"

"Oh, I say," cried Ned, with his face contracting as he glanced at the
smooth clear waters of the largest pool in sight.  "You don't think
there's anything of that sort in there, do you?"

"I dunno.  Haven't given it a thought," replied the American.

"Come along," cried Chris; "he's laughing at us."

"Not I," said Griggs.

"Anacondas," said Chris thoughtfully.  "Yes, they are the big
boa-constrictor-like chaps that half live in the water, and lay hold of
anything that goes in.  No, it's all stuff, Ned.  They don't live here;
they're in South America.  There's nothing to mind."

"I don't know so much about that," said Griggs.  "What about alligators
and snapping turtles?  There's safe to be plenty of them in a place like
this."

"But they wouldn't try to touch us," cried Chris.  "I shall chance it."

Ned looked anxious.

"Here, I say, Griggs," he said.  "No games.  We want a bathe horribly.
You don't think there really are any biting things in the water, do
you?"

"I dunno, my lad.  This is a new place altogether to me.  There are
plenty of vicious hungry things down in Mississippi and Florida, I know
that."

"But we're not in Mississippi nor yet in Florida," cried Chris.  "I say,
Griggy, where are we?"

"Why, here, to be sure," replied the American.

"Don't talk stuff!" cried Chris angrily.  "What part are we in?"

"I'm not a geography-book, my lad, and I don't know where we are, only
that we've travelled south-west.  No finger-posts up here and no lines
to show where the States are divided."

"Now you're bantering again, Griggs," cried Chris irritably.  "You must
know."

"If you come to that, why, so must you, my lad.  But I really don't
know, only that we're well into the wild unsettled parts of the country,
and I should say nobody had ever been here before but prospectors--chaps
like the poor fellow who came crawling to us regularly done up."

"But where should you think we are?"

"Well, I'm inclined to think that we're got well into Arizona, my lad,
where the great unexplored salt deserts are."

"Very well, then, we've explored that part and come across the deserts,
and got into the good land now."

"Oh, have we?" said Griggs derisively.  "Why, we've only just tasted a
bit of one.  Do you know how big these wilds are?"

"A few miles across, I suppose--fifty or so, at the outside."

"That's mild for a guess," said Griggs.  "Why, I believe, there's room
enough out in these wilds for us to lose ourselves and wander about for
years."

"Very well, then, let's wander," cried Chris.  "That's nothing to do
with what we want to do here, and that's to bathe and get rid of all
this sand and dust."

"Well, then, if you'll take my advice you'll keep on the shallows close
to the edge, in case--Yah!  Look at that!"

The boys were already looking, their attention having been caught by the
rising of a little wave caused by some fish or reptile rushing through
the water for a few yards before curving over, making a great splash as
it disappeared.

"A big fish seizing a small one," cried Chris.  "Well, that won't hurt
us," and hurrying along the edge of the pool they were not long before
plunging in for a good swim, to come out ready to dry themselves in the
sun, and, after dressing, enjoying the sensation of being freed from the
dust and salt which had clung to their skins.

"I say, bother the old gold!" said Ned again, as they stood gazing at
the mountains half bidden by the delicate clouds of mist curling about
their sides and clinging to the great peak which had formed their guide.
"Isn't it lovely!  Why can't we live here?"

"Because we've got something else to do," said Chris grimly.  "Besides,
how could we live?"

"Live?  Why, the same as we did at the plantation.  I believe that
everything would grow here and that we could raise abundance of fruit."

"And who should we sell it to?"

"Bother!  Never mind about selling it," cried Ned contemptuously.  "Eat
it ourselves."

"Live on oranges, eh?  What stuff you talk!  Ask your father what he
thinks."

"But there'd be plenty of other things here to eat.  We could grow corn,
and graze cattle, and keep poultry.  I dare say we shall come across
buffaloes and deer.  Then there are abundance of birds, and I dare say
these fish in the pools would be good, without reckoning on the salmon."

"What salmon?" said Chris grimly.

"The salmon in the rivers that come down from the mountains over there."

"Of course!" cried Chris mockingly.  "Here, let's go salmon-fishing this
morning.  We've got hooks and lines packed up somewhere, and I don't
suppose it will take us long to find a salmon-river."

Ned stared wide-eyed at his comrade, who burst out laughing.

"Oh I say, Ned, what a baby you are!  I shall tell them over our
breakfast everything you--Oh!  I say!  Smell that?"

"Yes," cried Ned eagerly.  "Coffee."

"No, no; that other smell.  I know! old Griggs is frying something for
breakfast.  Come on."

The scene around was glorious; there was the blue sunlit sky, in the
distance the purple mist and the glistening silver of pool after pool,
while all else was golden green--tree, bush, and waving reed, rush and
grass.  To a couple of boys whose eyes had been smarting for days in the
dusty glare, the country around seemed perfect in its beauty.  But
though they had been revelling therein, and enjoyed it to the full, now
that they were refreshed by their bath all seemed as nothing compared
with the film of grey smoke that arose from close by the heap of packs
beyond which the ponies and mules were grazing, half-hidden by the lush
rich grass which brushed their flanks.

But it was not only the sight of that slow-rising smoke, there was the
odour which floated to their nostrils, and set them off running in a way
which seemed to suggest that their swim had washed away all the
stiffness and languor of the day before.

"Breakfast," shouted Griggs as they drew near, and his cry brought up
Wilton, Bourne, and the doctor, each with his double rifle and shot-gun
across his shoulder.

The change was so great after the sufferings and excitement of the past
hours, that every one was enthusiastic, and the conversation became
general about the future; but very soon all but one became listeners,
the one being the doctor, who laid down the law as to future
proceedings, giving it as his opinion that the success of the
expedition, or more especially the continuance thereof, must depend upon
their keeping in touch with water.

"Yes, that's right," said Griggs, as if speaking to himself.

"You see," said the speaker, "our stores must rapidly grow less, and we
have to face the fact that we shall have to throw ourselves upon the
resources of the country; hence to go on journeying through the deserts
means failure, perhaps worse, for we may find some day that we have gone
so far that we cannot retrace our steps.  You follow me, Griggs?"

"Quite, sir," was the reply.  "You are saying what I think, only much
better.  I don't want to push forward my opinions, but I know a little
about these matters, having journeyed farther north years ago, and
having had a good deal to do with the horrible alkali plains, as they
called them."

"Exactly, and we shall always be glad of your advice and counsel," said
the doctor.  "Now, it seems to me that wherever we can we must keep to
the mountains.  It will be more arduous for our beasts, but near the
high lands we may generally find water.  Where there is water there are
grass and trees, and where there are these we may find food in the shape
of birds and other animals, as well as provision for our ponies and
mules."

"Plenty of fish in that big pool," said Chris.

"Oh!" cried Ned in protest.  "We only saw one."

"But he was after another," said Chris sharply, "and that big one is
sure to have plenty of young ones."

"His relatives, eh?" said Bourne, smiling.

"Of course," added Wilton, with a laugh, "and that will include the old
folks as well as the young."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and you boys must try your hands at catching
them whenever there is a chance.  In fact, we must all bear in mind that
it is urgent that we should be on the lookout for food--not in a
destructive way, but so as to have the next day's supplies in hand.  But
now about to-day.  We have excellent quarters here, the beasts are
revelling in good pasture, and though I am anxious to go on I think we
had better stay where we are, say for a couple of days more, not to do
nothing, but to let this be the camp from which we make an expedition or
two towards that peak and part of the way up its slopes, so as to
determine in which direction we shall go next."

There was a murmur of assent here, and Wilton took up the debate.

"I believe," he said, "that we shall find the source of a river up
there, and that then it would be wise to follow it down."

"That would take us towards the sea," said Ned's father decisively.

"Not for certain, sir," cried Griggs.

"Well, then, towards where the river joined another which ran into the
sea."

"Not for certain, sir," repeated Griggs.

"Very well, then, where it runs into some good-sized lake."

"Not for certain, sir," paid Griggs, so decisively that Chris laughed,
"But a river must fall into something," said Ned's father sharply,
Griggs' interruptions having made him feel nettled.

"Yes, sir, of course; but in a desert country such as it is about here
they fall into difficulties."

"I know," cried Chris; "Griggs means that they tumble down into those
great canons like that one on the Colorado, isn't it, where the banks
are a mile deep?"

"No, I don't, squire," said Griggs firmly, "though I shouldn't be a bit
surprised if we came across one of those gashes in the desert.  I meant
that some of the little rivers that come down from the mountains run
bright and clear for a time in amongst the rocks till they get to the
more level ground, and then they spread-out and grow wide and shallow so
that you find they're only up to your knees.  A mile or two lower down
they're not up to your ankles, while a bit lower there's no river at
all."

"What, gone down a sink-hole?" cried Chris.

"No, squire; spread-out and soaked away into the sand, which begins by
looking dark-coloured and has patches of grass growing in it for a bit,
and then you get farther and the sun has drunk up all the sand had not
swallowed."

"But there must be pools and marshes," said Wilton.

"Pools sometimes, but where you do find one it's as salt as the sea,
only a deal nastier, and if you drink any of it you find it makes you
ill."

"You've had that experience?" said the doctor.

"More'n once, sir," replied Griggs, "and it aren't nice.  Which way do
you mean to go to-day, sir?"

"Straight for the mountains," replied the doctor.

"Humph!" grunted Griggs.  "Won't get there in one journey."

"No," replied the doctor, scanning the beautiful elevation through his
glass, "but I think we might do what we can in the way of selecting
another camp to which we can move a day or two later."

"Yes, we can do that, sir.  But what about here?"

"I should set up the tent here before we start," suggested Wilton.

"What for, sir?" asked Griggs sharply.

"It will be a big white object for our guidance on our way back."

Griggs shook his head and smiled.

"We shall take our bearings, and be able to find our camp again.  The
water here will do for one big mark when we're yonder on the hills.  If
you set up that tent with no one to mind it, the mules won't be long
before they come rubbing themselves against the ropes and upsetting it,
for one thing.  Another is, that if a roving band of mounted Indians
came along they'd be down upon it at once to see what there was worth
taking."

"But surely there are no mounted Indians about here?" said Ned eagerly.

"Maybe no, maybe yes, my lad.  I don't know that there are, and I don't
know that there aren't.  Here's plenty of room for them, and a nice
country where there's water and perhaps game.  Likely enough there may
be Indians.  For they're here to-day and a hundred miles off to-morrow,
roving about in search of eatables."

"Yes," said the doctor gravely, "and the thought of the life they lead
is encouraging to me."

"Encouraging?" cried Bourne and Wilton together.

"Certainly.  I have been a good deal exercised in my mind about the
failing of our provisions forcing us at last to turn back, but if we
follow the example of the Indians there is no reason why we, so long as
we have sufficient ammunition, should not be able to keep on for years
if it were necessary.  What one band can do, surely another can."

"That's what you think, then, is it, sir?" said Griggs sharply.

"Yes; why do you speak like that?"

"Only because I'm glad you see fully what we've got to do, sir, and are
ready to do it."

"But we must husband our stores," said Bourne.

"Of course, sir," said Griggs, with his eyes twinkling.  "We will, as
long as they'll stop to be husbanded; but they'll shrink away to nothing
at last, and we must look forward to the time when all the extras'll be
gone and we shall have to live on meat and water."

"Rather starvation rations, Griggs," said Wilton, while the boys stared
at one another.

"Oh no, sir.  I've been through it, and it isn't half bad.  You soon get
used to it, and then you find out what roast meat and cold water really
are--about the most delicious eating and drinking in the world.  Your
appetite's splendid; you can sleep like a top; and as to what you can
do, it's wonderful.  You never seem to be tired."

"Then you don't feel any apprehension about our having to give up for
want of supplies?"

"Not a bit, sir, as long as the powder and shot last.  When they're done
the sooner we make for civilisation the better."

"Yes," said the doctor thoughtfully.  "You must be right, Griggs."

"Yes, sir, I am right," said Griggs, without a shadow of brag in his way
of speaking.  "I wouldn't speak out as I do if I hadn't proved it."

"How long did you lead such a life as that?" asked Chris.

"Going on for four years.  Why, I've talked to you and Squire Ned here
often."

"Yes, of course, about your experiences in the big north-west," said
Chris; "but I didn't know it lasted so long."

"Don't you remember about his fight with the Indians, when they rode
round his party?" asked Ned.

"Yes, I remember," said Chris.  Then thoughtfully, "You think we shall
find Indians out here?"

"No, I don't, my lad; but I feel pretty sure they'll find us."

"Most likely," said the doctor, nodding his head; "but we can beat them
off.  You feel, then, Griggs, that we need be under no apprehension
about our stores?"

"Not a bit, sir, so long as we keep within touch of the mountains.  I'd
almost go as far as to say that we could do better without them.  We
could after a time, for it will save a lot of trouble in loading up the
baggage.  But they won't fail yet awhile.  A man can do without tea and
coffee and sugar and pepper, and without meal too when he's obliged.  We
shan't want for salt, I dessay, though the less we come across that the
better.  We shan't fail over finding where that poor old chap made his
map, on account of the eating and drinking.  I was thinking about him in
the night when I woke up to have a look round."

"What about him?" said Chris, for the American had stopped short.

"'Bout how long he'd been living out somewhere in these parts."

"Or some other parts," said Wilton.

"That's right, sir."

"How long had he been out here, then?" asked Ned eagerly.

"Can't say, squire; but a many, many years, for he was pretty nigh worn
out, warn't he, doctor?"

"By privation principally," said Bourne thoughtfully.

"Privation had had a good deal to do with it certainly," said the
doctor; "but Griggs is right, he was nearly worn out."

"With his long fight?" said Wilton.

"Principally from old age.  He must have been very far past seventy."

"What?" cried Bourne.

"Oh yes, he was very old," replied the doctor quietly.

"Ay, he seemed so," said Griggs.  "Old enough to be a hundred; not that
he was.  I'll say eighty.  Well, he might easily have been wandering
about in his gold hunt for twenty or thirty or forty years."

"Oh, absurd!" cried Wilton.

"P'r'aps so, sir; but look here, he went out with a party of
prospectors, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"And he was the only survivor?"

"To be sure; he told Lee so."

"Well, it's an old story about the parties of prospectors going out into
the desert in search of gold and never coming back."

"Yes, we have heard it often."

"Then tell me this, Mr Wilton," said Griggs sharply.  "When a party
goes out exploring, what sort of chaps are they?"

"A very brave, enterprising set."

"Of old men, I s'pose, sir, nearly worn out?"

"Nonsense!  Able-bodied, vigorous, young and active fellows," cried
Wilton decisively.

"That's right, sir.  Then how many years is it since that poor old
fellow was young, able-bodied, and vigorous, and started off into the
desert with his party?  It wasn't yesterday, I'll be bound."

"No!" said Wilton, very slowly and thoughtfully.

"He managed to live a long time out here, sir, eh?" said Griggs,
smiling, "and so can we.  We've got a hundred times his chance, for, as
I said before, we know what he didn't."

"What do you mean?" said Ned's father.

"We know that the gold city is somewhere, and we've got his plan to work
upon.  Now, doctor," continued the speaker suddenly, "what do you say to
making a start for the mountain to have a look round?"

"The sooner the better," said the doctor, "only let's make a stack of
our stores."

"That's soon done," said Griggs, and all started to place the bales so
that the mules might not investigate matters that were no concern of
theirs.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DISMOUNT!--QUICK!

"Isn't it grand!" cried Chris, as he tightened the girths of his saddle
during the final preparations for the start, every one being well armed,
and in face of the fact that they meant to be back at the camp the same
evening, burdened with nothing but a wallet containing a little food and
a bottle of water.

"Isn't what grand?" replied Ned.

"Why, riding off into a country where nobody has been before, and not
knowing what wonderful discoveries we may make."

"Oh yes, I suppose so; but I wish old Griggs had spoken out as he has
now before we started."

"What about?"

"What about?  Why, our having to go on and on till all the stores are
finished, and then for us to get nothing but frizzled meat to eat and
water to drink.  That's a nice lookout, upon my word!  Here, see if you
can get my girth tightened to this hole.  This brute has been eating
till he's as round as a tub."

"So has mine.  I haven't got the girth as tight as it was last time by
three holes."

"Oh!  Then you needn't bother.  I'm one hole better than you."

"All right, then.  We shall have to tighten up two or three times
to-day."

"Ready, boys?" cried the doctor.  "That's right.  Now sling your guns.
Are you loaded?"

"Yes, father--bullet in one barrel, shot-cartridge in the other."

"Now then, mount.  You follow us, and Griggs will bring up the rear."

"That's right," said Chris in a whisper.  "We can make him talk to us
and tell us about how he got on when he was travelling before."

The start was made, and as soon as the marshy part was cleared there was
no need to ride in single file.  The doctor allowed his two friends to
come up abreast, and Griggs urged his pony forward to get between the
boys.

"Here we are, then," he said cheerily.  "Now we can have a palaver."

"About Indians," said Ned eagerly.

"Indians?  Not a bit of it.  We don't want any Indians.  I say, nice
thing to find when we get back that they had raided the camp and cleared
off everything, mules and all."

"Oh, I say, Griggs," cried the boys together, "don't!  It would be
horrible.  Why, part of us ought to stop and guard the camp."

"Either of you like the job?" said the American.  Chris and Ned leaned
so as to gaze across Griggs' pony in each other's eyes.

"Bah!  They won't find it, even if there are any in this neighbourhood,"
cried the American.  "Nice country, ain't it?  Rather better than the
desert."

"But isn't it a pity that we are not going right up the mountain
to-day?"

"Like to go all the way?" said Griggs.

"Yes, I should," cried Chris eagerly.  "I want to get the glass and look
round.  I think I could make out the mountains on the old map if I saw
them."

"Very nice if you could," said Griggs dryly.  "But it's early morning
yet.  You wait till afternoon, and then see if you wish the same.  I
think you'll fancy we've had enough of it for one day, and want to get
back to camp for supper."

"Oh, I don't know," said Chris merrily.  "I'm not always thinking of
eating like Ned is."

"Eh?  Oh, I say!  I like that!  Why, I never do."

"Didn't you grumble just now about the time when we should have nothing
but meat and water?  Here--I say--Griggs, what's that--I mean those?
There's more than one."

"Yes; keep quiet.  More than twenty, my lads."

"Not Indians, are they?" whispered Chris with bated breath.

"Where?--where?" panted Ned.

"Over yonder--half-a-mile away.  You can just see their black heads
above the grass.  They're watching us."

"What, in that open grassy piece with those trees?  Yes, I see now.
I'll canter forward and tell them."

"No, no, sit still and go steadily on.  I don't want 'em scared.  It's a
sight worth seeing.  They're getting scarce now; nearly all have been
shot up in the north."

"Yes, I know they're getting scarce up there," said Chris excitedly,
while Ned's eyes began to open wider and wider.  "But we ought to warn
my father."

"Nay, I dare say he sees them by now."

"Shout to him in case he doesn't," said Chris excitedly.

"No, no," replied Griggs, who was shading his eyes to keep off the sun.
"They'd hear us if I shouted, and be off at once."

"But I'm afraid they'll begin shooting."

"Who'll begin shooting?"

"Those Indians."

Griggs turned in his saddle to look wonderingly at the speaker, and then
his features began to relax, but grew hard again at once, and he said
quietly--

"Oh, I see--shoot at us.  Why, they're doing that now, and making
bulls'-eyes."

"What do you mean?" cried Chris sharply.  "What have I said?  Here, Ned,
he's laughing at us."

"That I wasn't," cried Griggs.  "I only nearly smiled.  Why, do you mean
to tell me that you don't know what those are?"

"Indians, aren't they?  Blackheads or blackfeet--I don't know."

"That's very evident," said Griggs grimly.  "Why, they're buffaloes--
bisons, staring at us with their heads just above the grass."

"Oh-h-h!" cried Chris.  "So they are."

"Then they mean beef," cried Ned excitedly.

"There, what did I say?" said Chris, laughing.  "He's thinking about
roast beef for dinner."

"Then he won't get any to-day," cried Griggs.  "There they go; they've
taken alarm."

"Oh!" cried Ned, as the black objects suddenly disappeared.  "We ought
to have shot one."

"They're all right," said Griggs coolly.  "We know that there are
buffaloes in this part of the country, and we can stalk one when we
like.  We don't want meat to-day.  I say boys, we've only seen them, but
we know now there's something else."

"What?" cried Ned.

"Wolves."

"How do you know?"

"Always are.  They follow the bison-droves."

"But a great bull bison could easily kill a wolf."

"But a calf couldn't," said Griggs dryly.  "They hang about after the
droves so as to pull down the very young calves, and kill the mothers
too, sometimes.  Well, this is a good beginning, and I only hope we may
find beef like this in our larder wherever we go, till we discover the
old city."

"They haven't seen them," said Chris.  "Shout and tell them, then, now."
Chris gave a hail, and made the announcement.

"Where?" shouted Wilton excitedly.

"Out of sight now, sir," replied Griggs.  "The grass is very high down
in that hollow, but if you look towards those trees you may see what I
can now, the tall grass waving as if something was plunging through it."

"I see them," said Bourne directly after.

"And I," cried Wilton.  "Let's ride hard and cut them off."

But a word from the doctor checked him.

"Why not?" he said.  "We shall want the food."

"Yes, sometime," said the doctor.  "The buffaloes will not go far from
such abundant pasture, with water close at hand.  We can pick up a few
birds as we come back, I dare say, enough for this evening and
to-morrow.  I want to get on as far as we can to-day and see for a new
camping-place, as we agreed."

"That's right, sir," said Griggs.  "If we stop to get a shot or two at
those fellows they may lead us another way, and what with the shooting,
skinning, and cutting up, we shall make such a hole in the morning that
we must put off our exploring till to-morrow."

"Oh, very well," said Wilton, rather ungraciously; "but when we do want
our joints, mark my words, we shall not be able to get a shot."

Griggs laughed and shook his head.

"Don't agree with you, Mr Wilton," he said.  "There goes something
else."

"Eh?  Where?" cried Wilton.

"Through the tall grass yonder.  I fancy it's deer of some kind;
something small, but I can't see what it is."

"Whatever it may be," said the doctor, "it's running through the grass
in the direction we are going.  Look at the grass yonder, it's waving as
something passes through."

But whatever it was they could not get a glimpse of it, though time
after time, when they felt that the game had either been passed or had
gone off to right or left, they saw the grass in motion again.

Then it stopped altogether, and the grass began to grow shorter before
them, the longer beds being down to their right where the land sloped
down, and they here and there caught the glint of water.

"Why, we must be following up the bed of an underground river," said
Bourne, "and this keeps breaking out from time to time, forming quite a
chain of little lakes.  Yes, there, look; those must be ducks."

"Ducks they are," cried Griggs, as a little flock rose cackling from
somewhere away to their right and skimmed along over the top of some
waving reed-beds, but far out of shot.

"Another proof that we shall not starve," said the doctor, as they rode
slowly on, with the grass in places reaching to their saddle-bows.
"Let's strike away to the left here," he continued.  "I fancy the ground
is drier.  It is certainly wetter down to the right there, and the grass
longer."

He was quite right, for by bearing off a little they found at the end of
about half-a-mile that their progress had grown more and more easy, the
grass now only reaching to their stirrup-irons, while away further to
their left it was shorter still, looking quite lawn-like in the
distance.

"We're a good deal higher than we were at the camp, aren't we?" asked
Bourne.

"Certainly, and far-off as we are we certainly seem to be approaching
the mountain by a gradual slope."

"And that chain of pools and swamps is something of a river or stream
that comes down from one of the valleys yonder.  Hallo! look out!"

Every one present had already been put on the _qui vive_ by a quick
rustling in front, followed by a loud whirring sound, as some
half-a-dozen birds, which they had evidently been driving before them
through the long grass in which they had kept out of sight, had now
found themselves too much exposed in the shorter herbage and taken
flight.

"Big partridges--monsters!" cried Chris excitedly.

"Yes," said the doctor dryly; "the most monstrous partridges I ever saw,
Chris.  Why, they're turkeys, boy.  They're making for those trees
yonder across the pools, eh, Griggs?"

"That's right, sir.  They'd be worth stalking too, but I don't think we
could follow them through that swamp.  I dare say, though, that we could
get a shot at them some other day.  Might perhaps as we come back."

"We'll be ready for them then," said the doctor quietly.  "Now then, the
ground's firm, and the grass getting shorter; let's try a canter."

He pressed his pony's sides and led off, the rest following in single
file now, with the ground slowly rising, the grass getting shorter and
shorter, till at the end of about half-an-hour the doctor reached the
bottom of a mound, drew rein, and let his mount walk to the summit,
where he halted for his companions to join him and drink in the soft
cool air as yet unheated by the ardent sun.

The next few minutes were spent in sweeping the country round, and in a
very short time they were pretty well acquainted with their position.
For right away forward and to their left the grass grew shorter and
shorter for a couple of miles, till it looked more than ever like some
lawn whose soft green grew greyer and greyer till it was of a dull
shimmering white.

"A great lake," cried Chris.

"Try again, my boy," said his father.

"'Tisn't salt desert, is it?" said the boy.

"Breathe in the air that is coming from it, my lad."

"Hot and dry," cried Chris excitedly.  "That's why I was getting so
warm.  I thought it was from riding so fast."

"We're skirting the edge of the desert," said the doctor, using his
glass.  "Yes, as far as I can see it is all tableland that way; the
grass soon ends, and all is dusty sand with the air quivering over it as
it sweeps away towards the mountain chain, while this way to the right
the grass and trees seem to run up green and beautiful into the hills,
which widen out into a valley."

"Can you see water, sir?"

"Yes," said the doctor, scanning the land to his right and away forward;
"water in two places.  Our course is plain enough--to keep along here at
the edge of the great plain where the grass is short and the ground
firm.  We are on a dividing line between the bad land and the rich
park-like patches and the pools and swamp.  This ought to take us into
the valley yonder and to one of those hills where we can camp in what
must be a good hunting country.  Forward!"

They cantered on, drawing rein now and then to breathe their horses, to
find that the desert land with its quivering layer of air grew more
clearly marked on one side, the country more beautiful and park-like,
diversified by hill and dale, on the other, and away in front the mighty
peak looking as distant as ever, but with its features more plainly
defined.

Twice over they came to a halt, the first time being at the edge of a
narrow lake which resembled a piece cut off from a tolerably wide river,
whose ends had been filled up by the growth of reeds.

Noon was long past, but the air was so fresh and invigorating and their
level track so easy to follow, that the doctor decided upon pushing on
again for another couple of hours, before making a final halt for
refreshment, and then turning back.

This final stoppage was beneath a clump of fairly grown trees whose
boughs formed a goodly shade from the westering sun, and all revelled in
the beauty of the view forward as they partook of their scanty meal.

"Glorious!" said the doctor at last.  "We can't do better than make our
way up here to-morrow.  The journey for the mules will be easy enough if
we bear more to the left, and they ought to get up here by night."

The others agreed, Griggs being full of approbation.

"And two days will easily take us right up the slope of that mountain.
Shouldn't wonder, if we started early enough, if we did it in one.  But
hadn't we better be going back now, sir?"

"Yes, at once," said the doctor.  "Can you pick up our trail now and
then, only leaving it when we can cut off some of the way?"

"I shouldn't wonder if I could, sir," was the reply.  "I'll try."

"That's right; but we must spread-out a little, and be on the lookout
for a shot or two, so as to have something to cook when we reach camp."

"Partridges, father," said Chris, unslinging his gun.

"Yes," said the doctor, smiling; "we ought to get one or two of those
monsters if we get a chance."

But, as Wilton had suggested, now that they wanted something in the way
of game, nothing was to be seen, and they were fully half-way back and
the evening coming on fast, but with the moon well up ready to give its
light as the sun went down, before there was a fair chance.  They had
seen partridges again, and sent a flock of ducks skimming over the
reeds, but in both cases they had risen far out of shot.

"We must get more into the longer grass," said Griggs at last.  "We
shall get something then, and as soon as we've got enough we can bear
off again into the short, and canter."

It proved to be good advice, for about half-an-hour later, when they had
been compelled by the thickness of the growth to proceed at a walk,
Griggs, who was in front, suddenly turned in his saddle.

"Come more into line," he said; "there is something on in front waiting
to be flushed."

The evolution was made, and the six ponies went steadily on through the
dense growth with a loud rustling sound, while from time to time a
glimpse was obtained of the waving green surface being agitated not far
in front, plainly showing that they were driving something before them.

"Which way will they go, Griggs, when we flush them?" said the doctor.

"I don't see any trees to the left, sir, or they'd fly for them; so I
fancy they'll rise and make for the open plain yonder.  It looks quite
clear, and if we don't bring any down when they rise we ought to canter
out after them and get a shot there, or ride them down."

"Too long a task, as it's getting so late."

"Oh no, sir; they're very heavy birds.  But I don't like this; we're
getting into longer grass and--down--dismount--quick, every one--quick!"

Nobody stopped to ask why, but obeyed one whom they knew to be the most
experienced member of the party, and his tone of voice was so eager and
intense that all thought the time had come for a good shot, as dropping
from their saddles they stood ready to fire over their ponies' heads.

"Well, where's the game?" said the doctor, after a few moments' silence.

"Here, sir," said Griggs hoarsely.  "We're it if we've been seen."

"What do you mean?"

"Look yonder, sir, over the grass out towards the desert where there's
that golden shimmer above the plain."

"I don't see--yes, I do.  Stoop, stoop, every one, or we shall be seen,
if it isn't too late."

There was a quick movement amongst the party, every head being lowered--
every one stooping a little to peer over the level top of the grass, to
see as it were a panorama of black figures moving along a golden band, a
party of some thirty or forty mounted Indians walking their ponies in
single file, as if going in the same direction as the explorers, and not
a quarter of a mile away.

"Haven't they seen us, Griggs?" whispered the doctor.

"Don't know yet, sir," said the American, "but if they haven't they must
be half blind.  Yes, they've seen us, for certain, I should say, and
they're bearing inward so as to cut us off."



CHAPTER TWENTY.

DANGEROUS NEIGHBOURS.

Chris's heart beat fast, and as he glanced at Ned he could see that
there was a peculiar look in his eyes and strain in his countenance
which suggested discomfort, if not fear.

But all this was momentary.  There was something else to think about
beside how his companion looked, especially his father's words, for the
doctor suddenly whispered--

"Keep close everybody, and have your rifles ready when they come on.
Mind, no one is to fire till I give the order, and then all together.
Give them the right-hand barrels, loaded with shot, a scattering volley
right into the midst.  That ought to scare them and make them turn about
and gallop off."

"And if they don't?" said Wilton, in a hoarse whisper.

"Give them the bullets then, and let every one be carefully aimed, for
we shall be fighting for our lives."

"They can't have seen us," thought Chris then, for though the Indians
were drawing nearer and nearer, they did not seem to be searching the
long grass as if they feared danger, but came on in a line, each man, as
could be plainly-seen now, with his rein lying loosely upon his horse's
neck, his hands being occupied in holding a short bow with an arrow
fitted to the string ready for drawing to the head and launching.

"Why, they can't see us," thought Chris again, for as the low-down sun
struck nearly horizontally it lit up the enemies' eyes in a peculiar
way, showing their transparency, and at the same time it seemed to the
boy that as they came on in line at a walk they were looking in advance
of where his party were waiting.

The next minute all was made clear, for the line of Indians advanced
obliquely towards the long grass till the leading man came almost in
touch a couple of hundred yards in advance, when all at once there was
the wild whirr of wings, and about a couple of dozen great birds sprang
into the air.

The next instant there was a peculiar dull twanging sound, followed by
the fall of heavy bodies, a wild yell, and the galloping off of the
enemy out into the open after the retreating flock.  But three of the
savages reined in, leaped from their horses, and leaving them began to
seek amongst the strands of the tall grass, their search being rewarded
by the discovery of four heavy turkeys, two of which were quite dead,
but the others kept on flapping their wings heavily, their beautiful
coppery bronze plumage gleaming brightly in the sun, till a heavy blow
or two gave them their quietus, when the Indians began to twist up some
of the grass, to tie the birds' legs together tightly so that a couple
of the fierce-looking fellows could hang them across their ponies'
necks.

This done, amidst a good deal of grinning and gabbling perfectly
incomprehensible to the listeners, the Indians mounted again and sat
gazing with shaded eyes across the grassy plain, till, apparently
satisfied of the direction their companions had taken, one of them
uttered a deep-toned _Hugh_! and rode off, followed by the rest.

"What an escape!" sighed the doctor, after waiting till the party was
well out of hearing.  "It is marvellous that they did not see us."

"They had no eyes for that, sir," said Griggs.  "They expected to find
turkey, and they were too much on the watch for the birds to be looking
for us.  They had no suspicion of our being near."

"But the wretches have carried off our supplies," said Ned bitterly.

"Hallo!  What's that?" said Chris, as a flapping noise was heard in the
grass.

He did not wait for an answer to his question, but forced his way
through the grass towards the spot whence the sound had come.

"Look out," he shouted, for there was a beating of wings, and a big bird
rose from close to his right-hand, passing out of his reach, but not to
escape, for the next moment there was a dull thud and a fall, for as it
passed over him Griggs had struck at it with his rifle-barrel, breaking
its wing.

The fall was followed by a repetition of the beating which had first
taken the boy's attention.

"I thought that wasn't the one I heard," he cried, and pushing forward
he literally threw himself upon another of the birds, lying in the thick
grass and frantically beating its wings with such violence that it
levelled the grass for some distance round.

"Take care," cried the doctor warningly; "they can strike very hard with
their wings."

"I've found that out," grumbled Chris bitterly, as he winced from a
couple of blows, but retaliated with such vigorous action by means of
the butt of his rifle that the beating ceased, the great bird's head
fell over, and the prize lay inert.

"Splendid!" cried Wilton and Bourne in a breath, as, hot and panting,
Chris dragged his capture to where his companions stood watching the
encounter.

"They did not take much pains about retrieving their game," said the
doctor.

"Sign that it's too plentiful for them to need it, sir," said Griggs,
laughing.  "I say; they're not bad shots, to bring a lot like that down
flying.  Six birds out of one flock, with bows and arrows too."

"There were such a lot of them to shoot, though," said Chris, "and the
birds were all quite together.  I say, Ned, look at this arrow.  Gone
right through the neck.--Think they'll come back to look for more,
father?"

"No," was the reply.  "I can just see them under the sun, riding right
away.  We might go on now slowly if we keep in the thick grass."

The word was given, and all mounted, but not until Griggs had followed
the Indians' example of tying the two birds' legs together and swinging
them across his saddle-bow, Chris's proposal to carry his own capture
being negatived on the declaration that it would be much easier for two
to be carried together than one.

"You'll get your supper after all, Ned," said Chris, after they had been
riding slowly on through the grass as near to their trail as could be
guessed, for it was still considered advisable to keep as much under
cover as possible, the Indians' sense of sight being well known to be
very acute.

"There, you needn't try to joke about that," was the reply, in a weary,
querulous tone.  "You're as fond of good things as I am."

"Never said I wasn't," cried Chris, laughing.  "But I say, Griggs, we
must have one of those for supper to-night, no matter how late we are."

"All right," said the American.  "I begin to feel as if I can pick a bit
myself; but you won't like raw turkey, will you?"

"Haw?  Nonsense!  We must make a good fire, and frizzle bits over the
embers."

"A good fire, to show the Indians where we've made our camp?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Chris.  "I never thought of that," and he was silent for
a few minutes, but only to break out again with, "We shall be too far
off for any Indians to see, for we've got many miles to go yet to camp."

"And we can make our fire in the shelter of the trees," added Ned.
"That'll be all right.  But I say, Griggs, you ought to begin picking
one of the birds at once, so as to be ready when we get back."

"To be sure," said Griggs; "capital idea.  You're a nice fellow to take
care of yourself out in an Indian country!"

"What do you mean?" cried Ned.

"Preparing a trail for the savages to follow."

"I don't understand you."

"What!  Didn't you propose that I should begin plucking the turkey and
sprinkling the feathers about as we go?  Nice trail for the brutes to
follow.  Why, if they picked it up they'd come along at a gallop."

"Yes," said the doctor, who had heard a part of the conversation; "we
shall have to be very cautious till we get right away from the district
the Indians haunt."

The night was coming on fast, for the twilight which had followed the
disappearance of the sun was brief; but as the evening passed away, the
moon which had looked pale and wan began to grow more and more silvery,
till it was dazzling in the pure bright air, casting the riders' shadows
on the rustling grass and making their way easy.

The stars were beginning to glitter too, and pool after pool was passed
which looked as if it were dotted with points of light.

It was a glorious ride, and not without incident.  Wherever there was
water the fowl which frequented the marshy pools could be heard feeding,
and the wild cries of the animals which haunted the far-spreading plain
came frequently to the ear, while the sharp yelping barks, or the long,
low-drawn wails like those of jackals and the dismally weird snapping
shout of the prairie wolf came plainly from far away where the salt bush
was known to be plentiful.

Every now and then too some owl came hawking by on silent wing, fixing
its great eyes upon one or other of the party as it swooped past.  Twice
over Griggs paused in doubt as to their course, for the crushed-down
grass trampled by the ponies was at times hard to trace in the
moonlight; but he was not long in picking up the trail again, and at
last the camp was reached, with everything looking just as it had been
left that morning, while the mules were still grazing, apparently as
hungry as ever, though a little closer observation proved they were
picking and choosing amongst the youngest and juiciest twigs.

"Hah!" sighed Ned, dropping wearily from his pony.  "Now for a good fire
and some of that turkey, Griggs."

"Eh?  Didn't you hear what the doctor said just now when he came up
alongside?"

"No," said Ned anxiously; "what?  That I was not to light the fire?"

"No, nor any one else, lad.  He said that no fire was to be lit
to-night, and that we must all make shift with a bite of what we left in
camp this morning."

"Oh!" groaned Ned, so dismally that Chris was not too weary to forget
his own disappointment and laugh and chuckle with delight at his
companion's discomfiture.

But that was not the only disappointment, for as soon as the ponies had
been unsaddled and freed from their bits, to be turned loose for a roll
and graze, Griggs, who had been to examine the provender, came back to
announce that there was none to examine.

"What!" cried the boys in a breath.  "Why, we left plenty for a cold
supper."

"Yes," said Griggs, "but the jackals, or wolves, or whatever they were,
haven't."

"You don't mean to say--" began Chris, who felt far from mirthful now.

"Yes, I do; they've been here and cleared out everything."

"But no fire, no turkey, no tea," cried Ned.  "What are we to do?"

"Just as the mustangs have, my lad; have a good long drink, a roll, and
then--"

"We can't graze," cried Chris.

"No, but we can take it out in sleep."



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

ON THE TRAIL.

It was horribly disappointing in their hungry and weary state, but it
was no time for finding fault.

"Roll yourselves up in your blankets, boys, and go to sleep," said
Griggs.

"Is that what you are going to do?" said Chris dismally.

"No," was the reply; "I'm going to have the first watch."

"First watch?" said Chris, staring.

"Yes, and your father is going to relieve me at the end of four hours."

"But--watch?  What for?"

"Because there are Indians about.  You don't suppose we could leave the
camp unguarded at a time like this, do you?"

"I--I never thought about it," stammered Chris.  "Did you, Ned?"

"Of course not.  But is it necessary?"

"If you want to take care of your scalp, yes, my lad," said the American
dryly.

"Oh, but--" began Chris.

"You think there's no risk, eh?  Well, perhaps it's not quite so bad as
that, but we don't want to wake up and find that the mules and horses
have been swept off in the night.  There, lie down and sleep.  Whoever
has the morning watch will wake you up to a good fire and such a
breakfast as will make up for your cold water supper.  Well--why don't
you lie down?--Here: stop!  What are you going to do?"

"Going to speak to father."

"No, no, don't disturb him.  I dare say he's asleep by now."

"He can't be," replied Chris sturdily; "there hasn't been time."

"What!" cried Griggs, laughing.  "Not time?  Well, come with me and
look; I'll be bound to say he is.  But what do you want to say to him?"

Chris hesitated to answer, but the American pressed him, and the boy
spoke out.

"I only wanted to tell him that I didn't want to be such a selfish pig
as to go to sleep and leave him to keep watch."

"Oh!" said Griggs gravely.

"And to say that I was going to order you to wake me when the four hours
are up, and I'd go on duty."

"I see," said Griggs.  "Well, come along; he's over there by the packs;
but promise me if he's asleep that you will not waken him."

Chris hesitated for a moment or two, and then promised unwillingly, the
boys following the American softly to where the heavy breathing of three
sleepers could be plainly heard.

"There," said Griggs, leading them back; "are you satisfied?"

"Yes," replied Chris.  "They haven't been long going off."

"Do you know how long it takes a tired man to go to sleep, my lad?"

"No.  I never noticed."

"Just about as long sometimes as it takes him to shut his eyes."

"Nonsense!"

"And sometimes not so long, for he's asleep before they're shut."

"Old Griggs is making this up, Ned," said Chris.

"No, he isn't, my lad, for I've seen it; and I tell you what I've often
seen too--a man go off fast asleep on horseback.  There, now lie down
and get your own share."

"I wish I'd told father."

"Tell him in the morning over your breakfast, when you're eating
frizzled bird.  Now then, no more talking."

"I haven't done yet," said Chris stubbornly, and now feeling wonderfully
wide awake.  "Look here, I'm not going to have father woke up in four
hours.  He's more tired than I am, and you are going to wake me to take
your place."

"No, I'm not, boy."

"Yes, you are.  I order you to," said Chris.

"Are you boss of this expedition?"

"You know I'm not."

"Who is, then?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," said Chris irritably.  "You know: father."

"That's right, and he gave the orders of the night--that I was to watch
four hours before calling him, and I was to see that all was right in
the camp.  Now then, you're kicking up a disturbance instead of going to
sleep and resting yourself so that you may be useful in the morning."

"But, Griggs--"

"You obey orders, sir," said the man sternly.  "Do you want to wreck the
expedition by breaking rules?"

"No."

"Then go to sleep."

"But I can't sleep now."

"Then lie down and keep awake."

"Yes, I'll do that," said Chris, spreading out his blanket.  "Come on,
Ned; we'll lie down and wait till he calls father, and then we'll talk
to him and get him to lie down again while we take his watch.  Will
you?"

"Of course," said Ned eagerly.

"Hah!  That's better," said Griggs.  "Now you're talking sensibly.  It
doesn't do to oppose your captain at a time like that.  Well rolled up,
both of you?"

"Yes," was the reply, from the ground where the boys were seated.

"Better lie down, my lads; you'll keep warmer.  There's a chilly wind
coming down from the mountains with a bite of frost in it."

"Very well, then:--there!" said Chris peevishly.

Griggs did not speak then, but stood with his rifle-butt upon the ground
and his hands resting on the muzzle for a few minutes, before he began
to shake.

But it was not from cold.  It was with perfectly silent mirth, as he
said to himself--

"I honestly believe that they were both asleep as soon as their heads
touched the ground."

Then after a pause, during which he had been slowly and watchfully
gazing about him in every direction, his thoughts came back to the
sleepers at his feet.

"I like that," he thought, "for it was all real and plucky and true.
Not a bit of sham in it.  He meant it all, and he meant to go to his
father when it was time for me to call him in nearly four hours' time.
But nature's too strong for him.  He won't wake up, and I shan't rouse
him.  It will be the doctor who does that."

It was the doctor, and directly after--at least, so it seemed to Chris,
who opened his eyes to stare at his father, and then at the fire
crackling and smoking in a sheltered spot among the nearest bushes and
trees.

"Why, it's to-morrow morning," cried the boy excitedly.

"Ah, that's what you ought to have said last night, my boy," said the
doctor, laughing, as he pressed Ned's side with his toe.  "Come, Ned,
lad: breakfast."

Ned sprang up as sharply as if he had been kicked.

"Eh?  What?" he cried.--"Oh!  We've been to sleep."

"Of course you have," said the doctor.  "You lay down to sleep, didn't
you?"

"No, father; we lay down to keep awake till it was time to call you,"
cried Chris.

"Ah, yes, I know.  Griggs told me; but you didn't keep awake.  Now then,
go and have a wash, and then come and help me do some cooking.  Be
sharp."

"One moment, father.  Have you heard or seen any Indians?"

"No, not one.  And look here; you'll be attending to the fire when you
come back; don't make it up with green wood, but pick up the pieces of
the dry and dead.  I don't want more smoke than we can possibly help to
be rising up above the trees.  Now: off!"

There was water near at hand, but no time to undress for a swim, and the
boys were soon back, with the stiffness produced by the previous day's
exertion dying out before the bright buoyancy produced by a sound sleep
in the beautiful cool, elastic air, while the feeling of ravenous
appetite that began to attack them made their task of shifting wooden
fresh green spits, rather than skewers, laden with pieces of bird, from
place to place, where they could catch most heat from the glowing
embers, one that was tantalisingly hard.

There was bread-cake, too, in the hot ashes, and water boiling in the
big tin, ready for the tea to be thrown in, and very soon afterwards the
whole party were restoring strength over as delicious a breakfast as
could fall to the lot of hungry men and boys, who never once troubled
themselves at the want of milk, a table, or chairs.

"Now," said the doctor at last, "the sooner we're off the better; so
pack up."

"Do you mean to follow our yesterday's trail?" said Bourne.

"Certainly," said the doctor.  "There is only that, or to go back; and
we can't do that."

"Certainly not," came in chorus.

"But is it not possible to take some other line, on account of the
Indians?" said Wilton.

"No," said the doctor and Griggs, almost together.

"If we strike off over the open land it means desert, and we shall be
full in sight of Indians if they came near," said Griggs.

"And if we strike in through the long grass we shall go more and more
into the bed of the unseen river, with the marshes to stop us before we
can get far."

"I see," said Wilton.  "Off for the mountains, then.  Yes, that's the
only way."

Half-an-hour later the little train was steadily advancing, the mules
making light of their loads, and proving by their playfulness--which
took the form of a disposition to bite or kick every one of their
fellows within reach--that they were thoroughly rested, refreshed, and
ready for as much work as would be demanded of their sturdy legs.

A sharp lookout was kept to their left over the open country as the
leading mule was steered, as he called it, by Griggs, close in to the
high grass, which acted as a screen against which they would have been
hardly seen; but nothing alarming appeared in the distance, and no
footprints of man and horse other than their own in the soft soil showed
that any enemy had crossed their trail to make for the hunting-grounds
to their right.

But night came on ere the slow pace of the laden mules had covered the
distance the explorers had got over by the previous afternoon, and there
the little caravan was guided right into a sheltered valley to the
borders of an elongated pool, where, well hidden from the plain,
preparations were made for their next camp.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

BEAR AND BUFFALO.

Distance is illusive in the clear atmosphere of high mountain lands, and
it took two days longer than had been calculated before a position well
upon the slope of the giant peak was reached--a grand shelf, covered
with verdure close to where a sparkling stream gushed out of a patch of
rocks and made a leap of fully a hundred feet down into a rift, along
which it gurgled musically beneath a rainbow-like arch of ever-changing
beauty on its way to the plain below.

A more beautiful spot could not have been selected for the camp,
presenting as it did shelter, shade, a comprehensive view of the country
for probably a hundred miles round, and of the valleys that ran down and
opened out from the mountain side into the plains, so that the presence
of enemies could be made out and favourable parts selected for finding
game.

But Chris was not satisfied, and Ned expressed his disapprobation
plainly to Griggs.

"I thought we were going right up to the top of the peak," he said.
"This isn't more than a quarter the way."

"It's as far as we could get the mules and ponies by now," replied the
American.  "What do you want to go up higher for?"

"Why, to see, of course," cried Ned.

"You're a hard one to satisfy," said Griggs.  "There's hundreds of times
as much down yonder as you can see anyhow.  Besides, do you know how it
would be if you climbed higher?"

"Splendid."

"No it wouldn't," said Griggs.  "It would be so cold you couldn't bear
it."

"What, up there in the blazing sunshine?"

"Yes, up there in the blazing sunshine.  That only lasts till sundown;
after that ice would be forming in the water-bottles, while the wind
would be so cold that you couldn't bear it.  We should want bearskin
coats," added Griggs meaningly, as he sheltered his eyes from the sun's
glare.

He and the boys had climbed, after helping with the camping
arrangements, some three or four hundred feet above the shelf, armed
with the doctor's glass.

"We could keep ourselves warm enough, I dare say," said Ned surlily, for
the ponies had been walked up the final portion of that day's journey so
as to relieve them of their loads.

"Strikes me," said Griggs, "that this place will about do for a couple
of weeks, and then we can get right round to the other side for a day or
two to see what we can make out there."

"I should say we had better start right off there to-morrow," said
Chris, after taking a comprehensive glance round.  "How far can I see,
do you think?"

"From here?  Why, big things a hundred miles off, I dare say."

"Then it's all a failure, so far," said Chris; "there's no sign of the
mountains on the map.  This is not the right part."

"I didn't expect it would be," said the American coolly.

"Then why did we come?" cried Chris.

"Just to make sure, my lad.  That's the sort of thing we shall have to
do: keep on trying, and always expecting we are not right."

"Oh!" cried Ned impatiently.

"Ah, you may `Oh,' my lad, but that's the way to succeed.  We shall go
about to hundreds of places before we've done, and out of those hundreds
there's only one can be right, and it isn't natural to expect that it
will be ready for us at the start.  There's no hurry."

"No hurry?" cried the boy, staring.

"Not a bit.  You chaps are a long way off twenty yet, and if you find
the gold city before you're seventy you'll do well."

"Hark at him!" cried Chris merrily.  "Griggs turned philosopher.  What
about you then?  You're past thirty."

"Ever so much," said the American, "but I don't mind if I never find it.
This life's quite good enough for me."

"Do you mean to tell me that you don't want to find the old city?" cried
Chris.

"No, of course not.  I should like to find it, my lads, and be a rich
man; but I shan't break my heart if we never go near the place.  We
shall have travelled half over America and seen plenty of the country.
That's good enough for a man who only wants to live."

"You're a rum chap, Griggs," said Chris.

"I am, my lad, but I can't help it.  Now, let's see: we came up here to
see what there was to be seen, and you wanted to go up higher."

"And you said we should want bearskin coats."

"To be sure I did," without moving a muscle.  "Well, there's one over
yonder."

"A bearskin coat?" cried Ned.  "Nonsense!  Bearskin coats don't grow on
trees."

"Thank you for the information," said Griggs, "but tell me something
else; I knew that."

"Tell us something else," cried Ned.  "A bearskin coat on the mountain
side!  Where?"

"Over yonder, I tell you, with the gentleman it belongs to wearing it.
A splendid fit too, I should say, but it's too far off to make sure."

The boys involuntarily cocked their pieces, as Chris said excitedly--

"A man in a bearskin coat--an Indian?"

"Oh no.  Can't you see him?"

"No!  Where?"

"Look yonder across that bare slope that glistens in the sun as if the
rock were granite."

"Yes, I see where you mean--a little higher up than we are."

"That's right.  Now, just above it there's a patch of green running up
to the fir-trees, all low bushes sprinkled about with the rocks
between."

"Yes," said Chris, "I can see that too.  Well?"

"Look, look, Chris," cried Ned; "I can see it now--there, just crossing
from one lot of bushes to another.  There it goes."

"Yes, I see now.  Why, you mean wool, Griggs.  It's a mountain-sheep.--
No, it isn't," cried Chris excitedly; "it's a bear."

"Yes, all alive, oh! and in his skin coat."

"And quite beyond reach, unless we stalk him.  I say, Griggs, how lucky!
Is that a grizzly?"

"Oh, no; they're twice as big.  That's only a brown bear."

"But is he coming after our mules?"

"Not he.  He's hunting for wild fruit--berries and things of that sort."

"Then it's not a dangerous one?"

"Not if you leave him alone.  He'd show fight, though, I dare say, if
you went after him."

"Let's climb higher up and get above him.  We can easily get a shot at
him then," said Chris.

"Do you want his skin?" said Griggs.

"No."

"Well, you wouldn't care about eating him, though bear ham isn't bad."

"Oh, we don't want to eat him," cried Ned, watching the movements of the
brute eagerly.

"You don't want his fat to make bear's grease for your hair, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then I'd leave him alone.  We've plenty of ammunition now, but we don't
want to waste any."

"But suppose he had been a grizzly?" said Chris, bringing the glass to
bear on the distant animal.

"If it had been a grizzly I should say the best thing would be to let
him alone, and the same with a cinnamon, for they're very dangerous
beasts.  If either of them came smelling after the mules or ponies of
course it would be a different thing.  There wouldn't be room enough for
him and us too on the same mountain side.  Well! he's gone, hasn't he?"

"Yes, right up amongst the fir-trees."

"Ah, he'll be much safer there," said Griggs.  "You fellows would be
tempted to have a shot at him if he came within reach.  Now then, lend
me the glass."

The binocular was handed to him, and while the two lads stood watching
the woodland patch where the bear had disappeared, in expectation of its
coming into sight again, the American stood sweeping the horizon and
then bringing the glass to bear upon the wondrous view in every
direction where he could bring mountain, valley, hill, and plain into
the field of the glass.

He had turned slowly till he was gazing in the direction from which they
had come, leaving what looked like a band of deep green, to bring the
glass to bear upon the pale ash-coloured desert part, which rapidly
brightened into silvery grey, and from that became like the sea,
half-hidden by a soft haze which died away into the sky-line.

Quite ten minutes must have passed away, the boys having been too much
occupied with the bear to heed their companion, when Ned said in a
disappointed tone--

"Gone!  I should have liked to shoot that bear."

"And had his skin," said Chris.  "But look at Griggs," he added, in a
whisper; "he can see something.--What are you looking at?" cried the
boy, aloud.

"That patch far away over the salt plain.  You can't see it with the
naked eye.--Yes: I can, but it only looks like a shadow.  Here, try the
glass."

He handed the binocular to the boy, who looked but could see nothing
till his companion had given him a hint or two to follow an imaginary
line upward from one of the eminences below.

Chris caught the object sought then.

"Yes," he cried, "I see.  Why, it's a herd of buffalo!"

"Try again," said Griggs.

"Yes: a herd of buffalo," said Chris, lowering his glass and trying to
fix the object with his eyes.  "I can see it without the glass.  Just
like a cloud-shadow in the glistening, heaving plain, and moving slowly.
I shouldn't have thought that buffalo would be seen on a dry place like
that."

"Let me look," cried Ned, and after a try or two he caught the object
visible through the glass.

"Yes, buffalo," he said, "and they're moving slowly."

"Coming this way?" said Griggs.

"I can't hold the glass steadily enough to make sure.  Yes, I can see
now; they're not coming straight for here, but they seem to be sloping
across as if to get to the rich grass.  That must be it, I think."

"Very likely," said Griggs quietly.  "Hunting."

"Yes, hunting for grass," said Chris.  "Let's have another look, Ned."

He caught the glass and took a long look at the dimly-seen distant patch
on the plain, to cry decisively without lowering the instrument--

"Yes; you're quite right, Ned.  Why, they must be miles away.  I should
never have seen them.  What eyes you have, Griggs!"

"Been used more than yours have, lad, and that has made them a bit
keener, I suppose.  Try again, and see whether you can see buffalo."

"Yes," said Chris, after a long pause, "buffalo, and they're coming what
you call it--diagonally across the country."

"That's right," said Griggs; "but they're not buffalo."

"What then?  They're too big to be wolves."

"Yes," said Griggs coolly; "it's a big band of mounted Indians.  Come
down, quick."

The news they had to carry was too important to admit of delay, and the
little party hurried down to camp, where fortunately as soon as the
doctor had brought the glass to bear he was able to announce that the
Indians were not visible from the sheltered nook that had been chosen on
account of the trees and rocks around.

"It's fortunate for us that they have no telescope in their
civilisation," said Bourne.

"Ah, but they have far sharper eyes than we have, sir," said Griggs.
"What do you mean to do, doctor?"

"Send you up above again with the glass while we get the animals
together ready for a start if it should prove necessary.  The enemy are
miles away yet."

"Yes, sir, and it's hardly likely that they will come up here unless
they see us or hit upon our trail.  What do you say to the boys taking
the glass up higher?  You'll want me."

"Very well," replied the doctor.  "Go up, boys, and while one keeps his
eyes upon their movements, the other can act as messenger and come and
tell us whether the situation gets better or worse."

The two lads started at once, eager to undertake the task like men, but
in five minutes they were back like boys.

"What is it?" said the doctor eagerly.  "Are the Indians coming on?"

"No, father," said Chris, hesitating, for he stopped short, and Bourne
looked anxiously at his son.

"You two have not been disagreeing?" he said sharply.

"No, father, not disagreeing," said Ned, "but--"

"Come, out with it," cried the doctor sternly.  "Why have you both come
back?"

"We've come back for orders, father," said Chris, with a sharp look at
Ned.

"I thought I had given you full explanation as to what I wish you to
do," said the doctor.

"Not quite, father.  You left something out."

"What is it?  Quick; we have no time to spare."

"You didn't say which of us was to have the glass and do the looking
out."

The doctor uttered a low angry sound which had he been a dog would have
been called a growl, before saying firmly--

"Ned is to use the glass, and you are to be messenger, for your words
and tone say plainly enough that you have been stickling for your right
to the glass, when you should at such a time of emergency have been
ready to give up for the sake of all.  Off with you."

"Serve you right," said Ned, as they climbed quickly up towards the
place from whence they had first seen the Indians.  "If it had been my
father's glass I'd have given up in a moment instead of laying claim to
it."

Chris was silent, and involuntarily he touched both of his cheeks, as if
to feel whether they were as hot outside as they were in.

He found them hotter, and they grew hotter still by the time they had
reached their lookout, creeping to it during the last fifty yards and
keeping behind stones and bushes and every other bit of cover in their
way.  "Wo-ho!" cried Chris cheerily then, as he lay on his chest looking
down towards the salt plain, with the nettled feeling dying out fast.
"Come on; you can see capitally from here."

"Oh!" cried Ned sharply.--"Here, catch hold."

As he spoke he held out the glass.

"What's the matter?"

"Something in my right eye.--I can't see."

He was rubbing it violently, and it certainly looked red and inflamed.

"Got something in it?"

"Yes, a fly or a bit of dust, or else I've rubbed it too hard.  You must
look out, and I'll take the messages."

"Father's orders were that you should use the glass and I was to take
the messages."

"Yes, I know," cried Ned irritably, "but who's to use a glass with a fly
in his eye?"

"Lie down and turn over.  I'll take it out with a bit of grass," said
Chris gruffly.

"No, no, catch hold of the glass and don't waste time.  I shall be able
to rub it out directly."

"Better let me wipe it out gently with the strand of grass.  I shan't
hurt you."

"Yes, you will.  Eye's such a tender part.  I know; I'll pull the lid up
and look at the sun.  Then it'll water horribly, and wash the fly away."

"No, it won't," said Chris.

"What!--How do you know?"

"Because it isn't a fly."

"What!" cried Ned, whose cheeks were scarlet, as much as could be seen
for one hand held over the closed eye.

"You heard what I said," cried Chris.  "It isn't a fly."

"What is it, then?" said Ned, who kept on rubbing hard at the inflamed
part.  "A bit of grit or dust?"

"No, it's a fib, and it's in both your eyes."

"What?"

"There, don't keep on whating about it.  I can see it quite plainly."

"Don't talk nonsense," cried Ned hurriedly.  "Can't you see how it hurts
me?"

"Yes; but you needn't have told a cram about it."

"What should I tell an untruth for?" cried Ned hotly.

"Because you wanted to cheat me into using the glass because you thought
I was hurt and disappointed."

"I tell you one of my eyes smarts horribly."

"Of course it does--stuffing your knuckles into it and rubbing like
that.  There, focus the glass and look out."

"I can't see clearly with my right eye, Chris, honour bright.  Catch
hold."

"If a fellow tells you a fib once, you don't believe him next time."

"What do you want me to say to make you believe me?  It does hurt,
really."

"Say there was no fly in the case, to begin with."

"Will you use the glass if I do?"

"If you can make me believe that you can't see well."

"Look, then," cried Ned, and he dropped his hand, to open his right eye,
which was quite bloodshot, "Now, is it likely that I can see steadily
with that aching and watering so that I'm half blind?"

"No," said Chris quietly, and he took the glass and began to focus it on
a distant object.  "Now, own up; you did rub that hard on purpose?"

Ned was silent.

"I'm going to give you the glass back," cried Chris.

"No, you're not; and you're going to have a good look out.  But I say,
mind; don't let the sun shine on the glass, or the Indians may see the
flash.  Pull out the sunshades."

"I have," said Chris, taking a long look out in the direction of the
enemy.

"See 'em?"

"No.  All's clear there."

"Take a good long sweep round and keep watching till you find out where
the Indians are.  I'm going down to the bottom of the fall to bathe my
eye.  It is bad."

"Make haste, then."

"All right.  Call or whistle when you see them.  I shall hear you."

Chris nodded and grunted, and then went on examining every part of the
plain below, but without result, and he thought and muttered to himself
the while.

"He needn't have told a fib over it.  Now, I wonder where those red
niggers are.--He might have known that I should see through him at
once.--A nigger can't be red.  That's stupid.--It was rather nice of old
Ned, though.  I'm afraid I shouldn't have done as much for him.--They
must have gone in amongst the grass and trees somewhere about there.  I
wish I could see them.  But I don't think they're after us--only
hunting."

He lay stretched out on his chest, slowly moving the glass so that he
could sweep the edge of the plain; but the time went on, and the mounted
party might, after all, have been a cloud-shadow for all the sign that
he could see, and at last he began to grow weary and think of whistling
to Ned to come up to him.

"He ought to have been back again by now."

The words had hardly been muttered before Chris started, for a hand was
laid upon his leg.

"See 'em?"

"No.  I was just going to whistle.  How's your eye?"

"Getting all right again now.  But you ought to be able to see the
enemy.  Have you looked well?"

For answer Chris began to shuffle himself back, moving on hands and toes
till he was level with Ned.

"Looked well?  Of course.  Here, you catch hold and have a good look
yourself.--Ah!  Don't you say another word about that eye, or we shall
fall out.  I know: you've bathed it well, and it's ever so much better.
Catch hold, I say."

Ned took the glass without a word and crept up to the stone which had
sheltered the observer, and there was silence for a few minutes, during
which Chris's patience became exhausted.

Then he cried--

"You ought to have seen them by this time.  What are they doing?"

"Cooking," said Ned laconically.

"What!" cried Chris in astonishment.

"Well, I'm not sure they're cooking, but they've made a fire."

"Where--where?  I say: no nonsense.  Can you really see them?"

"No, but I can see the smoke of a fire curling up, and their horses are
grazing just at the edge of the forest part where the long grass
begins."

"Your eye must have grown worse and worse," said Chris, with grim
humour, as he crawled up alongside of his companion.  "It must be very
bad indeed, or you couldn't see all that.  Let's have a look."

"Keep your head down, mind," said Ned, handing the glass.

"Oh, that's all right; they couldn't tell heads from stones at this
distance.  You must have been dreaming, Ned; I can't see smoke or
horses."

"You're not looking in the right direction; bear round more to the
left."

Chris made the object-glass of the binocular describe the segment of a
circle, and then after another look he gave vent to a long, low whistle.

"I never thought to look so far this way," he said, as softly as if he
was afraid of being heard.

"You can see them, then?"

"Yes, and the Indians too; dozens of them, I think.  Here, catch hold."

"What are you going to do?"

"Tell them down below, and see what they mean to do."

The glass was passed into Ned's hand with a warning not to lose sight of
the enemy again, and then Chris shuffled back and downward for a few
yards, and then hurried down to the camp by an easier way of travelling
than crawling on hands and toes.

He was not long in doubt as to what was to be done, for the doctor gave
his orders at once, all hands setting to work to drive in the mules,
which were rapidly loaded up, Chris being sent back to rejoin Ned and
return from time to time with any news worth communication.

He descended twice to announce that the fire was burning still and the
Indians' mustangs still grazing, there being no suggestion of movement,
and as soon as possible the little mule-train was once more in motion,
the doctor making for a great gully a quarter of a mile beyond in the
mountain side, a rift which opened into one of several by which they
hoped to get round in time to the further side of the peak, though the
way was long and the impediments many--not that this was minded, for
every impediment partook in some way of a screen from the enemy behind,
while the way was so rocky that the trail left was of the slightest
kind.

Camp that night there was none.  There was a short halt or two, but they
journeyed on for mile after mile by moonlight, and it was not till
morning was well advanced towards mid-day that a suitable gully was
found, offering all they needed in the way of water and pasturage,
joined to a good lookout place for danger, which could only come to them
from below, while the travellers had opened out to them an entirely
fresh panorama of mountain and plain, any portion of which might contain
the object for which they aimed.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A BIVOUAC.

"Oh, I say, Griggs, isn't this a lovely place!" said Ned that evening
just before sundown, as they sat beside a glowing wood fire, waiting for
the sufficient cooking of the bread-cakes that had been made.  Griggs
was combining the duties of watch and cook; the animals were grazing
contentedly; the rest of the party were sleeping just where they had
wearily thrown themselves down after their long journey--all save Ned.
He had woke up a few minutes before, to sit staring about him, wondering
where he was, and with a vague notion in his head that the setting sun,
whose horizontal rays were searching the gully to its deepest depth and
staining the sky with the most glorious tints wherever they could rest
upon a fleecy cloud, was rising, and that the odour that saluted his
nostrils was given off by the breakfast cakes.

Griggs was busy raking the glowing ashes over one of those cakes, and as
he did not seem to hear, Ned glanced at where Chris lay with his head
upon a doubled-up blanket, and repeated his question, which this time
brought forth a reply.

"Yes; it's beautiful enough, my lad, but not the place we want."

"You haven't had a good look round yet," said Ned.

"Quite good enough to satisfy me that the map was not made here."

Ned was silent for a few minutes, and then he said suddenly--

"Yes, it's going down, and it will soon be night.  I was puzzled at
first.  I thought it was morning.  It all comes through lying down at
such an unnatural time."

"Ah, you mustn't expect to go on in the regular way when you're
travelling, my lad," said Griggs, "but get your bit of sleep when the
chance comes."

"I suppose so," said Ned; "but it was ever so long before I could go
off, though I was as tired as a dog.  Chris was just as bad, but he's
sleeping soundly enough now."

"No, I'm not," said Chris quietly.  "I'm wide awake, listening to what
you say, and smelling the cakes.  Are they nearly done, Griggs?"

"Want another quarter of an hour, and then I shall make the tea."

"Then I shall go and bathe my face," said Chris.  "That'll freshen me
up.  Will you come?"

This was to Ned, who rose at once, and they walked off together towards
where a little stream came gurgling and splashing down from the heights
above.

"They sleep well enough," said Chris, with a side wag of the head.

"Yes; but I couldn't.  I say, shall we have to watch to-night?"

"No, I think not.  I'm sure we shall have our turn to sleep till
morning."

"That's right.  I know I shall go off like a top.  But I say, look at
the sky and those fir-trees up there."

"Lovely," said Chris.  "Some parts are so bright, all red and orange,
and others look quite purple and black.  It keeps changing so fast too,
that the black shadows seem to move."

"Yes; that's what I thought more than once as I lay there before you
woke.  It was just as if something was creeping about under the boughs."

"Not an Indian spy on all fours, was it?" said Chris quickly.

"Nonsense!  He wouldn't have shown himself like that."

"Wasn't a wild beast?"

"Of course not.  If it had been it would have scared the mules and
ponies.  No, it was only a shadow creeping along, and I suppose, after
all, I wasn't quite awake.  Now then for that water.  It's sure to be
fresh and cold, and will wash all the sleepy feeling away."

Ned was quite right.  The water had come tumbling down from somewhere
high up the peak, and felt quite icy as they lay down upon their faces
amongst the stones and scooped it up out of a little moss-grown
rock-pool for a few minutes, before rising up to dry their faces,
feeling bright and elastic once more and wonderfully ready for the
evening meal, the preparations for which sent forth another scent far
more attractive than that which came from the ferns which grew in every
crevice of the rocks, and the pines whose aromatic resin shed a fainter
perfume now that the heat of the sun had died away.

So beautiful was the soft gloom in the valley, so delicious the warm
glow above, about the summit of the peak, that every one looked content
and dreamy, as they sat almost in silence about the camp-fire and
partook of their welcome repast.

"My turn to-night, Lee," said Wilton suddenly.  "I don't think we shall
be disturbed--do you?"

"No; I feel sure that we got away unseen, and in an hour it will be so
still that you can hear the slightest sound."

"And so dark that an enemy could not find us."

"Till the moon rises," said Bourne, "and then I come on.  I say, doctor,
you're going to have as idle a time as the boys."

"And I'm sure father wants it," said Chris sharply; "he nearly works
himself to death."

"And never felt better in my life," said the doctor, with a pleasant
laugh.  "This mountain air is glorious after the work in those dreary
salt plains.  But thank you all the same, Chris, my boy; you'll take
care that I am not quite worked to death, eh?"

"You won't let me," said the boy quickly.

"No," replied the doctor.  Then changing the subject, he turned to
Griggs.  "Just a word with you, neighbour," he said.  "You feel pretty
confident about to-night, don't you?"

"Yes; we'll have a good rest, and to-morrow--"

"Well, what about to-morrow?" said the doctor, for the American paused.

"Strike right off to the south."

"Why?" said Wilton sharply.

"Because, grand as all this part is, it won't do.  A man wouldn't dry up
with starvation and thirst in such a country as this, but get fat and
lazy.  We're not anywhere near the map land yet."

"I'm afraid not," said the doctor; "but the climate is perfect.  One
would like to settle here, for some things."

"One?" said Bourne.  "I know two."

"Three," said Wilton.

"All of us," cried Chris.

"I didn't speak," said Griggs dryly.

"No; but you said you liked the place if it wasn't for the Indians,"
cried Ned.

"Ah, I wasn't thinking about the gold then, my lad."

"The gold!" cried Bourne contemptuously.  "What is the gold, after all,
but so much yellow metal?"

"That's right enough, sir," said Griggs, "but precious--"

"Precious!" said Bourne, with more contempt in his tone.  "A fancy
word."

"I hadn't finished what I meant to say, sir," said Griggs.

"Finish then," cried Bourne.  "I don't believe you are a slave to the
lust for gold."

"Slave, eh?" said Griggs merrily.  "Britons never shall be slaves, as
you sing--nor Murricans neither.  No, sir.  I was going to say precious
useful, when you cut me short."

"I beg your pardon, Griggs."

"Granted, sir.  I was speaking as a man who has toiled for years and
years to get a decent living by his plantation, and I must say, after
all my disappointments I should like to drop all at once upon that gold
city where the stuff's lying waiting to be carted away."

"Yes," said the doctor; "after all our lost labour it would be
pleasant."

"I don't want to wear gold chains and rings, and to keep carriages,"
continued Griggs, "but I should like to have enough of the yellow stuff
to put in a bank, and one might do a good deal of good if one made a
pile."

"Yes, I quite agree with you," said the doctor.  "We all do, and we'll
work till we find it."

"Of course," cried Wilton; "but I don't like that striking off south
to-morrow; why should we do that?"

"It means getting clear of the Indians," said Griggs, "and into a more
likely part."

"But we should have to go right across that desert yonder.  I could see
it stretching away to the horizon from one point we passed to-day."

"So did I, sir," said Griggs.

"Then why not keep hugging the mountains?"

"Or letting them hug us, Ned," whispered Chris.

"Didn't use the glass when you looked out over the salt plain, did you,
Mr Wilton?" said Griggs.

"No; there wasn't any need.  I could see nothing else but one vast
alkali plain."

"That's a pity, sir," said the American.

"That's what I say, and I propose that we keep on in the mountains till
we can see a place likely to be that we are looking for."

"Look here, gentlemen," said Griggs, "I'm Amurrican, and I speak with a
slow sort of drawl which comes nat'ral to me.  You don't give me time.
I've got a lot more to say about that lookout and the glass, only--
snip-snap, you cut my speech right in two."

"I'm very sorry, Griggs," cried Wilton.  "Did you use the glass up
there?"

"Up there, and several other places too.  That's why I asked the doctor
here to let me carry it."

"Well, and what did you see?" cried Wilton.

"Nothing, till we got to that highest part."

"And then?"

"Why then, right away south where the salt plains seemed to come to an
end--"

"Ah!" cried the doctor.

"I could see just a line of faint clouds or shadows."

"Yes, clouds," said Wilton--"shadows."

"Nay, it warn't," said Griggs.  "Clouds and shadows miles away--a
hundred, perhaps--seen through this clear air look like clouds and
shadows."

"Of course," said Wilton.

"Blackish or greyish.  These didn't."

"How did they look then?" said Bourne.

"Like mountains, sir; just that beautiful, wonderful, soft, pale pinkish
blue.  We were very high up, it was as clear as clear, and I don't say
how far it was off; most likely a hundred miles away, perhaps two; but
there they were, a long line of 'em, some high and some low.  Mountains,
and no mistake, and that's where we ought to go."

"Right across that scorching desert?" said Wilton.

"Yes, sir.  It won't be nice, but we'll take plenty of water."

"And risk the rattlesnakes?"

"Yes, sir, and leave the Indians to themselves here," said Griggs.
"They may have this part and welcome.  We don't want it.  What do you
say, doctor?"

"That we'll have a good rest to-night, and climb to-morrow morning as
high above us as we can to get another glimpse of your mountains,
Griggs, and then map down our course by the compass and start, after
making the best preparations we can.  Have you anything more to say
against the plan, Wilton?"

"Not a bit," cried the latter.  "I didn't know that Griggs had got
another range of mountains up his sleeve.  There, I'm a lazy one, and I
can't help longing to loaf about in a beautiful place like this.  I
should like to stop and shoot and explore.  The place is lovely."

"Wait till we've got the gold, sir," said Griggs merrily, "and then I'm
with you.  Nothing I should like better than to stop about here if Mr
Lo! the poor Indian, would leave us alone.  But he wouldn't, I know of
old, and I've a great objection to standing still for him to make a
target of me and stick me as full of arrows as a porcupine.  Say, I
wonder we haven't seen any of those gentlemen, and those black and white
fellows with the feathery tails."

"The skunks!" cried the doctor.  "No, nor do we want to.  Then now for a
good rest.  Sleep, boys, and `pay attintion to it,' like Barney
O'Reardon.  This moss will feel like feather-beds to-night.  My word,
how dark it has grown while we have been talking!  Good-night, every
one.  I'm half-asleep now."

Five minutes later he was quite, and the rest, saving the watch, were
rapidly following his example, the only sounds heard being the distant
hoot of an owl, the musical trickling of falling water, and the crop,
crop of the grazing beasts.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A NIGHT VISITOR.

Chris Lee's bed that night was a contrivance of his own.  It was between
two long pieces of rock, a narrow passage which, after taking the axe to
lop them off, he filled full of aromatic pine branches.  These lay close
and were elastic and yielding.  Over them he stretched a blanket, upon
which he rolled another piece of rock, which filled up one end of the
narrow passage, and there, snugly protected at head and sides, was the
delightful couch for a wholesomely tired lad, only wanting another
blanket to cover him if he felt chilly, or to be ready to throw off if
he found it warm.

Silence, darkness save for the glittering stars on high, sweet pure air,
and an excellent appetite for sleep, there was all he could desire, and
after laying his rifle and revolver ready and lifting his
cartridge-pouch and hunting-knife a little over the rocks to prevent
them from making dents in his sides, he said good-night to those near,
let his head sink down, gazed for a few minutes at a brilliant star in
the zenith which his father had told him was Aldebaran--one which he
recollected well from its unscientific name--the Bull's-eye, he closed
his own and began dreaming at once, but not pleasantly.  The fact was
that he had eaten a very hearty supper and lain down to sleep very soon
afterwards, two rather foolish things to do if a calm and restful sleep
be sought.

Chris did not know why it was--the doctor told him afterwards--but he
began to dream soon afterwards of rattlesnakes.  Not of such as he had
seen on the rocky slope, the largest of which did not exceed six feet in
length, but of dreamland rattlesnakes, monsters of twenty feet long, and
with bony tails which kept up a constant whirr previous to their owners
striking at that which they meant to destroy.

It was evident in the dream that they did not mean to destroy him, for
though they hovered over him with their heads playing up and down upon
their elastic necks, while their eyes glittered and their forked tongues
darted in and out of the opening in their jaws, they did not strike,
only kept him in a state of horror and suspense, till they made way for
one of the porcupines that had been named at supper-time.  This came
quietly up to the foot of his bed, and walked up from his boots to his
knees, with its black and white quills lying down as smoothly as if they
formed so much excessively coarse hair.  But then as the creature
continued its walk, to be soon upon the boy's chest, it seemed to get
into a violent passion, setting up its quills at all angles and rattling
them together till it seemed about to dash at him.  But instead of doing
anything obnoxious it suddenly disappeared before the advance of a
skunk, which came trotting up his body from his feet, just after the
same fashion as the porcupine, but looking fiercely aggressive, in spite
of the beauty of its clean, glossy, black and white fur.  Its eyes
gleamed and sparkled; it showed its glistening sharp white teeth, and
waving its erect tail, which curved over its back like a squirrel's, it
twitched in the same way, and seemed every moment about to make a rush
at the boy's face to inflict one of its dangerously poisonous bites,
while the twitching tail threatened the discharge of the horribly
offensive fluid which will send a determined dog yelling plaintively,
as, completely cowed, it beats a retreat.

It seemed an hour of expectancy for what did not come off, and all the
time the sleeper lay half-conscious in the painful experience, telling
himself that it was all fancy, for it was only a dream.

This was just as he was about to recover full consciousness, for the
skunk gradually died away from where it had seemed to be standing upon
his chest, and Chris lay wide awake with his heart beating, painfully
wide awake now, and with every nerve on the strain, as he listened and
tried to make out the meaning of a strange heavy breathing mingled with
a sniffing, snuffling which came from somewhere at the back of his head.

Chris's first thought was of springing up out of the trough-like
bed-place he had selected and escaping by the foot; but before he could
put this into effect there was a rustling sound on the big piece of rock
he had jammed in behind his head, and though he could see nothing he
could feel that something had stepped up on to the stone and was bending
over him; the snuffling breathing grew louder, and, to his horror, he
felt a puff of hot breath full in his face.

There was no springing up now.  An icy feeling chilled him, and he lay
perfectly motionless, unable to stir, and feeling as if he had suddenly
sunk into another dream--a nightmare this, by which he was completely
fettered.

His rifle lay on one side, loaded; his revolver was on the other, and
within reach of his hand; but he could not lift a finger, only stare
upward with his eyes fixed upon the stars, which now seemed to be
eclipsed by something dark passing between his face and them and
remaining perfectly motionless for a few seconds.  Then it passed onward
and he could see the stars again, conscious the while that whatever the
creature might be that had visited him it was now standing or sitting
upon the long rock, to his left, breathing hard, with its head very near
his own, and that, apparently dissatisfied with its position, or uneasy,
it raised itself up and stepped over to the other side of the bed,
forming what looked faintly like a black arch before the hind-legs
followed the fore and it began to shuffle about uneasily upon the rock
to the boy's right.  Then there was a scraping sound, and something fell
with a thump on to the listener's chest and slipped down between the
rock and his ribs.

Chris's heart had ceased its heavy beating, but at this point it gave a
tremendous bound which seemed to give him a momentary feeling of
resolution and strength; but momentary only.  He could not stir even
now, only think, and listen to the creature upon the rock as it uttered
a peculiar whining sound, followed by a deep grunt.

Then all was still, as if the animal had been slightly alarmed and was
now listening.

"If I stir," thought Chris--for he knew what his visitant must be--"if I
stir it will seize me with its claws and bury its teeth in my throat.
Oh, it is hard!"

For he knew what had happened: the bear had in changing its position
upon the long piece of rock disturbed the revolver lying there, and
knocked it off on to the sleeper's chest, from which it had glided down
between his ribs and the rock to lie close to his hand, where he could
not seize it for his defence without rousing the animal to an attack
before he could cock the pistol and fire.

The position was horrible, for Chris felt that the monster must be a
grizzly, one of the fiercest and most powerful beasts that roam the
forest, and though so much help was close at hand, it seemed to the boy
that it might as well be a mile away, for he dared not--no, not dared,
but simply could not--utter a sound.

How long this agony lasted he could not tell, but all the time he felt a
strange combination of sensations, for it was as if his body was turned
to ice, his head was on fire, and hot and cold together he was melting
away.

He could see dimly the bulky dark figure of his visitant, but he judged
that it could see him plainly, for it kept on moving about uneasily, and
twice over changed its position from one rock to the other, bridging
them over, and then sitting up as if listening, before coming down
softly on all fours again, to stretch out its neck and begin sniffing at
him from end to end.

At last, when a horrible feeling of faintness was creeping up from head
to brain, a thrill ran through the boy, for a great paw was stretched
out, touched him on the breast, and he felt the claws catch in the right
side of his jacket as he was lifted up a little with a strange scraping
sound against the rock, and something rolled over on to his chest as he
was lowered down again, and then rolled back against his right-hand.

The shuffling sound began again, and as if to claw him out of the narrow
trench-like place in which he lay, the bear reached out once more,
thrusting its great paw down between him and the rock, and with the
claws right under him began to lift him out.

Chris felt himself rising slowly, and knew that the next thing would be
that he would be seized by the animal's teeth and slowly carried off to
his lair.

But a change had come over the lad in those moments, ever since the
first movement had sent something on to his chest to roll back against
his hand.  For that something was the revolver, about whose butt Chris's
fingers closed, and as the bear's shuffling had raised him up there was
a _click, click_ of the lock, a movement of the boy's wrist which
directed the muzzle of the little piece upward, and then in an agony of
desperation his right finger pressed the trigger and there was a sharp
echoing report, followed by a furious yell and crash which was followed
by a call for help, and the voice of Wilton.

"Who fired that shot?" he shouted.

"I did," gasped Chris, who had scrambled to his feet, trembling in every
limb.

"Who called for help?" shouted Griggs.

"I!  Help!" came again.

"That you, Bourne?" said the doctor.

"Yes," came in a choking voice as of some one being suffocated.

"Oh, it's father!" shrieked Ned, and he rushed in the direction of the
sound, just as there was a snarling, worrying sound and the breaking of
wood as if a heavy body was rushing among the trees.

"Ah!" came in Bourne's voice, loudly.  "No, my boy, not hurt, but I
thought I was gone."

The speaker was the centre of a little group now, two of whom struck
matches, and Wilton produced a lanthorn, which was lit and held up, to
disclose the face of Bourne, covered with blood, and his jacket hanging
down below his waist, literally ripped up.

"Help him to lie down," said the doctor anxiously.  "Now, old fellow,
tell me, where are you wounded?"

"Only in my jacket, I hope," was the reply, given cheerfully enough.
"Who shot the brute?"

"I did," said Chris.

"You?" cried Griggs.  "Then it was not you, Mr Bourne?"

"I?  No!  I was woke up by the shot, and coming to see, when I was
knocked down by the brute.  It fell on me, pinning me to the ground,
kicking and struggling the while.  I thought I should have been
smothered.  Is this its blood all over me?"

"Yes, if you are not torn."

"I'm not hurt that I know of.  One of its fangs caught me somewhere
about the collar and tore my jacket right down to the waist."

"No, you can't be wounded," said the doctor, "or you wouldn't talk like
that.  Here, Chris, you say you fired?"

"Yes, father," said the boy, and he hurriedly related his experience.

"What an escape for you both!" cried the doctor.  "The brute must have
been desperately wounded by your pistol-shot, Chris, my boy.  You hit
him hard."

"Couldn't very well miss him at that distance, sir," said Griggs dryly.
"The brute's lying somewhere about.  Look out, every one, for he'll be
pretty dangerous."

"He must have gone ever so far," cried Ned, "for I heard the trees
breaking for long enough.  But are you quite sure you're not hurt,
father?"

"Not a bit, my boy; I only want a wash and another jacket.  Ugh!  This
blood is horrible.  But I say, Wilton, you're a pretty sort of a fellow
to keep guard while we slept!"

"Oh, I was on the lookout for Indians.  You didn't say anything about
bears.  What was this one--a grizzly, Griggs?"

"Didn't see it, neighbour, but I shouldn't think it was.  Black one or
brown one, I should say.  Cinnamon, p'r'aps."

"Why not a grizzly?"

"Because he wouldn't have taken a shot in him so quietly.  He'd be
rampaging about here ready to tear us all to pieces."

"Hadn't we better try and follow up the brute with the lanthorn?"

"I should say not," was the reply.  "If he's only wounded he must be
lying up savage-like, and as soon as he sees the light he'll show fight.
If he's badly hurt he may have gone on till he drops, and be nearly
dead by now."

"But we can't lie down and go to sleep again after this."

"Well, no, sir," said Griggs coolly; "it don't sound tempting."

"Then you would try and track the brute?"

"Yes, when the sun's up, sir."

"But what shall we do now?"

"Well," said the American, as coolly as could be, "seems to me that this
is just a nice suitable time to sit round the lanthorn and tell bear
stories."

"What!" cried the doctor.

"Tell bear stories, sir.  Young Chris here might begin by telling his
experience over again with all the flourishes, crosses, and dots that he
left out.  He didn't half tell it, I think."

"Oh, that's absurd," said Wilton.  "By the way, though, I didn't hear a
sound till Chris fired."

"Hadn't dropped asleep, had you?" said Griggs banteringly.

"No, certainly not," said Wilton, angrily.

"Here, every one look to his rifle," said the doctor, "and we'll sit
together and watch and listen.  The brute may come back."

This was done in silence for some time, when their patience getting
exhausted, remarks were made about the ponies and mules, and wonder was
expressed about their not having stampeded.

"Say," said Griggs suddenly, "I forgot all about them.  Where are they?"

"Feeding about somewhere, quietly," said the doctor.

"I don't know so much about that," cried Griggs.  "P'r'aps one of you
will come with me and the lanthorn, and we'll see.  I can't hear any of
them grass-chopping.  Will you come with me, Chris, or have you been too
much shook up?"

"Oh, I'll come," said Chris quietly.  "I don't think I've been too much
`shook up.'"

In a few minutes the lanthorn was seen lighting up the rocks and trees
in the direction of the best pasturage, where the cattle had been left;
and those left in camp watched till it disappeared, waiting anxiously
till the light was in sight again, and finally came up to where the
glowing embers kept on brightening and dying out again as the soft
breeze blew down the gully from time to time.

"Can't see or hear anything of the animals," said Griggs, at last, as he
strode up with the light.  "Ain't heard any more of Mr B'ar, have you?"

"No," was the reply.

"They were scared off by the shooting, I expect, or else by getting a
sniff of the b'ar's wound."

"Would they go far?" asked the doctor.

"Can't say, sir, but not so far that we can't follow them by their
trail."

"It's a great nuisance, just when we had decided to make an early start
in the morning.  Now everything depends upon our finding the animals and
bringing them back."

There was of course no more sleep that night, neither, much as it was
expected, was there any return of the visitor of the night during the
long hours of the watch.

But the morning broke at last, and as soon as it was light enough the
party began to follow the trail of the bear, starting from the spot
where Bourne had his alarming adventure, the traces of which were plain
enough, the earth and growth being torn up by the brute's claws.  From
there the spots of blood which had fallen from the bear's wound were
plain enough at intervals, and they were followed for about a quarter of
a mile, where the animal had plunged into the dense forest, where the
trees and undergrowth presented a front that could not be penetrated by
a human being, though comparatively easy for a quadruped.

Further pursuit was given up, and the party returned to follow up the
trail of the ponies and mules.

This was found at once, the animals, obeying their gregarious instinct,
having, after being alarmed, closed in together for mutual protection
and made off down the gully to the open country and the plains.

Griggs took the lead from old experience of such accidents, and pointed
out how the frightened beasts had galloped frantically for miles, then,
pretty well exhausted, subsided to a trot, which had been kept up for
several more before their progress became a walk, with halts here and
there for grazing.  In fact, it was several hours before the poor brutes
were sighted right out on the salt plain, and when overtaken and headed
off on the return journey, not even a single mule seemed to make the
slightest objection, for they all closed up into a drove and walked
steadily back, every animal with roughened coat stiffened by dust and
ready to hang its head with the look of one which had done enough work
for one day.

It was not until the afternoon that the dreary tramp back brought the
party in sight of their last night's camp, and that was not reached
until close upon sundown, a long halt having been necessary to water the
weary beasts and let them graze.

"I don't think we're going to make much of a start to-day, Griggs," said
Chris, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I know I'm not, squire," said the American.  "It seems a shame to
neglect human beings for the sake of horses, but it has to be done.
Here, I meant to have a few birds for a roast this evening, and now it's
only tea and fried bacon.  But it might be worse, eh?"

"Ever so much," replied Chris.  "But I am hungry."

"I say," said Ned, laughingly, "oughtn't some of us to go again and try
to find the bear, while the others light the fire and boil the kettle?"

"No," said Chris.  "We had enough bear last night."

"Yes," said Ned, "but that was live bear; I meant slices of him to
frizzle in the pan.  Griggs says bear's ham is good."

"So it is, squire, and if we had a haunch of the brute I'd set you an
example to eat it."

"What does it taste like?" said Chris.

"Well, it's rather hard to say.  A good fat bear's ham looks rather like
a bit of a pig salted and dried; but it doesn't taste like it a bit."

"Like what, then?" cried Chris.

"Something like a mutton ham that has been trying to make-believe that
it had grown on a pig's hind-quarters.  'Tain't bad, but don't you two
get letting your mouths water, because you'll get none to-night.  It's
tea and cake and a bit o' bacon.  That's our tackle this time, and very
glad I shall be to get even that."

In another hour they were quietly enjoying the simple meal, during which
the doctor said--

"An early start in the morning, boys.  You'll be able to sleep to-night,
Chris, without dreaming about porcupines and skunks, which were all
consequences of indigestion and the later supper."

"But the bear wasn't, father," said Chris quickly.

"Well, no," said the doctor dryly; "we'll leave out the bear."

"You ought to include it in your lesson on indigestion, though," said
Bourne, giving himself a rub.  "I didn't eat too heartily last night,
but I suffered horribly from bear lying heavily upon my chest."

"My watch to-night," said the doctor; and soon after the camp was once
more in a state of repose, but Chris Lee had chosen a different position
for his bed.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THINKING OF SUPPER.

The party was astir soon after daybreak, nothing having interfered with
the night's repose, and the first thing seen to, was the state of the
horses and baggage animals.

They too were all the better for the rest, but the result of the
examination was a discussion between the doctor and Griggs over the
injuries the animals had received.

Two of the mules had been down, and showed injuries to their knees.  One
had evidently met with a bad fall over a piece of rock, and limped
painfully, while two of the ponies wore the aspect of having been
over-ridden.

"I think they ought to have another day's rest, Griggs," said the
doctor.

"And I think they ought to have two," was the reply; "but what about
staying here?  The Indians may find and follow our trail."

"We must not think of waiting two days," replied the doctor, "but I
think we might risk one, and we must send out a scout along the road we
have come, to select a suitable spot on high ground and keep a lookout.
If he sees danger on the way he must ride back and warn us.  Meanwhile
we'll have everything ready for an immediate start, keeping the animals
close in, and the packs, so that we can load up at once."

Griggs nodded.

"What about the scout?" he said.

The doctor looked at him in silence.

"You mean you would like me to go?"

"Yes, but there is no reason why you should go alone.  I could easily
spare one of the boys."

"That's right--Chris," said the American, and in pretty good time that
morning these two, with their wallets well supplied and their
water-bottles filled, rode off along the back track to make a
reconnoissance, with the understanding that they were to rejoin their
friends that night.

It was a glorious ride through a lovely country, slowly and cautiously
taken, till a spot was reached commanding the portion along which danger
seemed sure to come if it was astir, and here, with their ponies hobbled
to graze, Chris and the American watched hour after hour, enjoying the
rest.

"But doesn't it seem queer," said Chris, as the day wore on, "just
because we are bound to be so careful, and dare not fire a shot for fear
of taking the enemy's attention, we have had chance after chance of
getting birds?  I should have liked to take three or four brace back
with us."

"Yes," said Griggs shortly.  "Been a nice change; but it wouldn't do."

The sun was getting low when Griggs finished a long search of the back
country with the glass he carried, and ended by closing it and thrusting
it into the case.

"No Indians to-day, or we should have seen them.  I think we may start
back now."

They were soon in the saddle, and, to Chris's delight, he found that his
pony's stiffness had pretty well passed off, while, to the intense
satisfaction of both, the slight lameness grew better and promised well
for the next day.

They kept to a walk, pausing wherever a good view back could be
obtained, till it began to grow dark, but they kept steadily on.

"Another hour ought to bring us to camp," said Griggs suddenly.

"And they'll be waiting supper for us," said Chris.  "I hope they have
done a little shooting.  A turkey would be splendid to-night.  Don't you
think so?" added the boy, after waiting in vain for an answer.

"I was thinking about something else," said the American slowly.

"What about--the gold city?"

"No, my lad, I was thinking about how awkward it would be if the Indians
had found a better road than we did, and had got to the camp while we've
been away."

"Griggs!" cried Chris in an agonised voice.--"Oh, nonsense!  You said
that to scare me."

"No; it's too serious a thing to cut jokes about.  This is a big
country, and we are only feeling our way, being strangers.  Those Indian
fellows were born in it, and must know it by heart."

"Here, let's ride on as fast as we can," said Chris huskily.  "You
think, then, that they may have been surprised?"

"I only felt that it might be possible."

"Then let's get on at full speed," cried Chris.  "It's horrible to think
that they may be wanting our help."

"We can't ride at full speed," said Griggs quietly, "only go at a walk;
and I dare say it's all my fancy."

"But we might go faster than this," said Chris excitedly.

"No; the way's so bad that we should only throw our ponies down."

"But if--" began Chris.

"But if anything had happened there we should want our ponies to be
fresh and ready for a gallop.  It would be madness to hurry them over
rough ground.  There, I'm sorry I spoke, lad, for I honestly believe
that I have alarmed you for nothing."

"I can't help thinking it is not for nothing," said Chris bitterly.
"Why do you say that now?  It's only to comfort me."

"Not quite all.  I've been thinking.  Suppose the camp has been
attacked.  It could not have been from this side."

"No, because we should have seen the Indians."

"Then it must have been from the other."

"Of course."

"What would the doctor do then?"

"Defend it to--the last," said Chris, with the final words seeming to
stick before they would come.

"No, he wouldn't; he'd keep up a running fight."

"What, retreating?"

"I should say so; retiring on the detachment he had sent out, as a
soldier would say.  To put it differently, he'd begin to think as you
did, for though you said nothing I could see your first thought was
about your father.  Wasn't it?"

"Of course," said Chris huskily.

"Yes, of course; and he'd say to himself, `There's my boy over yonder
with that long, thin Yankee chap.'  We must join them at once.  Now,
don't you see, if anything had happened we should have met them before
now?"

Chris could not speak, but reached over to hold out his hand, which was
warmly grasped by Griggs, who then began to talk cheerily.

"Very stupid of me," he said.  "I was feeling tired and mouldy.  I've
had precious little sleep, fidgeting about this wild-goose sort of
expedition.  I'm precious hungry too, and that makes a poor fellow feel
low-spirited.  My word, I mean to make my mark in that roast turkey
to-night!  _Sniff, sniff, sniff_!  That isn't roasting I can smell,
coming with the wind, is it?"

Chris laughed, and Griggs went on chatting.

"Keep a tight rein over these stony bits.  I do like to take care of a
horse," he said.  "Poor beggars, they're the best of friends, but I do
wish they wouldn't be such cowards.  Getting up a stampede like that and
chipping and straining themselves, all on account of a bear.  They've no
pluck."

"Then I suppose I've none either," said Chris, "for the bear frightened
me."

"Ha, ha!  Yes, and poor Mr Bourne too.  My word, didn't he holloa!"

"And no wonder," said Chris.  "Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"I just should.  I say, though, I hope they haven't shot any of those
tough old gobblers, years old.  They're as stringy as a fiddle.  One
just a full year old's the sort of fellow we want.  Who'll be cook?
Your comrade Ned, I expect.  If he has let the bird burn I'll never
forgive him."

"There'll be no turkey, Griggs," said Chris.

"What!  Why?"

"Because father won't have any firing."

"Well, they might trap one, or knock one over with a stick sent flying
like a boomerang."

"Here, I say, don't!" cried Chris.  "I'm so hungry too that it makes my
mouth water.  Here, I know what we shall have for supper."

"Yes, what?" cried Griggs eagerly.

"One of those big tins of preserved meat warmed up with water in the
kettle like a thick soup, and damper cakes, and tea as well."

"And not a bad supper either, lad, for hungry folks.  Glad of it, for
I've no faith in Ned Bourne's cooking.  He can make capital tea and
coffee, but when it comes to roasting a turkey, or cutting it up and
frying it in a pan, I'd beat him hollow.  How much farther have we to
go?"

"About a mile," said Chris, and he had hardly spoken before from out of
the darkness ahead came the Australian cry--_Coo-ee_!

"There's Ned," said Chris eagerly.  "Come to meet us.--_Coo-ee_!  Is it
all right?"

"Yes, all right," came back.

"Tain't," said Griggs gruffly.  "He's left the fire, and that turkey
will burn."

"Soup," said Chris merrily.

"Well, soup, then," growled Griggs.  "Why can't he stick to his work?"

"Anyone with you?" cried Chris.

"No; I came on alone.  Where's Griggs?"

"Here I am," replied the American to the voice out of the darkness.  "I
say, how came you to leave that turkey?"

"Turkey!  What turkey?"

"The one you were cooking for our supper."

"Oh, father's cook to-night; but there's no turkey."

"What, then?" said Griggs.

"Oh, a mess of tinned beef."

"There, I told you so," cried Chris.

"You never said a word about a mess," growled Griggs; "but I might have
known.  A nice mess it will be!"

Ned did not hear, for he was questioning and being questioned about the
doings of the day, which had been as uneventful in camp as out of it.

Ten minutes later they were sitting near the fire enjoying the waiting
supper, and in the reflection from the glowing embers Chris could see
Griggs' face beaming with the smiles of satisfaction, as he made liberal
use of a pewter spoon, and took semi-circular bites out of a hot
bread-cake liberally ornamented with grey wood-ashes.

"How's the mess, Griggs?" said Chris merrily.

Griggs had only one word to say, and it fitted itself for usage as a
long-drawn husky drawl.

The word was _Prime_!



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A VICTIM.

"And you made it all out clear straight and took your bearings, doctor?"
said Griggs the next morning, as the last pulls were given to the
mule-ropes--the last diamond-hitches made fast.

"Yes, and it will be as easy as steering a boat.  I could see the blue
mountains from up yonder distinctly, but I'm afraid they're more than a
hundred miles away."

"Oh, I don't know, sir; distances are deceiving, and it all depends upon
the weather.  Why, I've seen a mountain look fifty miles nearer just
before rain.  Now then, is there anything else we ought to do?"

"I did everything yesterday that I thought right."

"Water-barrels well full?"

"Yes, and every bottle and tin as well."

"Good," said Griggs; "then the sooner we're off the better."

Wilton sighed as they mounted, and gave a last glance at the beauties of
the gully in which they had encamped, and again soon after as the little
train wound on, with Skeeter's bell chiming to the motion of his head,
for at a turn before descending to the lower ground he had a glimpse of
the far-spreading desert they were about to attack.  It was beautiful in
its way, but the grey monotony soon palled upon him who looked, and the
eyes eagerly turned again to the refreshing green.

In a couple of hours the last shrub had been left behind, and every one
drew his breath hard and set his teeth, in the determination not to be
baffled by the lesser troubles likely to hinder their way; but all the
same, sighs once more rose for the beauty of the scenes and the
refreshing breath of the mountains, which was already rapidly giving
place to the hot reek of the sand and salt.

For a time the boys were startled into wonderment at the change which
came over the scene as the sun rose higher, for as the hazy mist that
overspread the plain began to rise, there before them lay spread-out a
wonderful expanse of water, one huge lake extending right to the
horizon, dotted here and there with islands of beautiful form.

"Why, I didn't know--" began Chris.

"Nor I," cried Ned.  "We shan't want for water."

They pressed on to join the doctor and Griggs, who were once more
leading, and before either of the boys could open his lips to question,
the former exclaimed--

"There, boys, you never saw the mirage so beautiful as that."

"Mirage!  Then it isn't water?"

"Water?  No; only a peculiar effect seen in the atmosphere over a heated
plain.  We shall see no water till we near the mountains on the other
side.  But there, talk as little as you can, and avoid this heated dust
which rises from the mules' hoofs."

"It's wonderful!" cried Ned thoughtfully.  "I felt sure that we were
near a beautiful lake."

"Such as deceives travellers sometimes."

"Ah, it's bad," said Griggs, "when you're crossing a plain, choking with
thirst, and the water-bottles are empty.  A sight like that has driven
men mad before now with disappointment."

The boys recalled these words over and over again during their journey,
for from the very first they realised what a tramp through such a desert
meant--the sun came down with scorching power, and it was reflected up
from the white sand and salt.  At mid-day when they halted where there
was no shadow but that cast by their four-footed companions, there was
not a breath of air, and the poor brutes stood with hanging heads and
drooping ears, panting and even sighing, while when the evening drew
near the wind swept boisterously over the plain, but brought no
refreshment, for not only was it hot, but it wafted up the fine,
irritating dust and produced additional sensations of thirst.

The march was kept on long after sundown, when another halt was made for
refreshment; but there seemed to be none, for the amount of water used
was small in the extreme, and after about an hour's wait, during which
the baggage animals had been relieved of their burdens, the doctor rose.

"Now then," he said sternly, "load up.  We must keep on all through the
night, and refresh again at daybreak."

"Refresh!" said Wilton dismally.

"Well, rest the mules," replied the doctor.  "Then go on again for three
or four hours and try and sleep through the hottest part of the day."

"What about keeping our course correctly through the night?" said
Bourne.

"There are the stars," replied the doctor, pointing up to the clear sky.
"I know exactly what to do.  We must keep on now we have started, and
bear it like men."

No one spoke, but "buckled to," as Griggs called it, and to relieve the
horses the party tramped by their side for the greater part of the
night, during the early hours of which Chris grew more and more sleepy;
but as they approached "night's dull noon," he grew more wakeful and
relieved the tedium by talking to first one and then the other
cheerfully enough, and never at a loss for something to say.

"It might be worse, Ned," he said once during the night.

"Couldn't be," was the surly reply.

"Oh, couldn't it!  It might come on to rain tremendously.  Well, what
are you laughing at?" he continued, for Griggs burst out into a hoarse
guffaw.

"You," replied the American.  "Don't I wish it would rain!  Why, it
would cool everything.  No, I don't know that, for the earth's so hot
that all day to-morrow we should be in the midst of steam.  It would
refresh the horses and mules, though.  Nice place this, isn't it?"

"Horrible!  What's the use of having all this desert?"

"Don't know," said Griggs bluntly.  "You tell me what's the use of
having all that sea, and then perhaps I'll tell you."

They relapsed into silence then, and the monotonous tramp went on.
There was no kicking or squealing among the mules.  Skeeter tramped on
with his bell going _clang_--_clang_--_clang_--_clang_, in accompaniment
to his steps, and the other mules followed as if walking like so many
shadows in their sleep, while the ponies seemed to follow their masters
like dogs, ready to accept every pat on the neck or word of
encouragement, and after raising their muzzles to the offered hand and
looking through the darkness appealingly, as if asking how long it would
be before they came to water.

Morning at last.  A halt, packs lowered to the ground, each animal's
mouth washed out with about a pint of the precious fluid--water, and
then their ration given in the form of very stiff gruel.

All this carefully done before the breakfast was attacked.

"I don't call it a breakfast," grumbled Ned.

"No, I wouldn't," said Chris.  "Cheer up; we haven't so far to go now as
we had yesterday morning."

"Well, I know that," snarled Ned, who seemed all on edge.  Chris called
it gritty, and said it was the sand--to himself.

"He gets it on his temper," thought the boy.  "How queer it is that
being hot and tired and thirsty makes any one so cross."

"Forward!" said the doctor at last, when the packs had been readjusted;
and the dreary tramp began again, with the sun getting hotter and hotter
every hour.

"Oh dear!" groaned Ned, as they tramped side by side, each with his hand
resting upon his pony's neck and holding on by the mane.  "That
miserable tinful of water!  Why, it was only half-a-pint, and it will be
hours before we're allowed any more.  Why not let us have a pint all at
once?"

"Against the rules," said Chris.  "You should have made believe, as I
did."

"Believe what?"

"No, I didn't believe it," said Chris; "I only played at it.  I drank my
half-pint very slowly, and pretended it was a pint.  You do the same the
next time."

"Not going to be such a fool," said Ned gruffly.  "It's all too real to
play.  Bother!  Hang it!  Yah!  I wish there wasn't a scrap of gold in
the world."

"But there is, all the same.  Come, cheer up, lad."

"Cheer down, you mean.  It's getting worse and worse, and I don't
believe we shall ever get across this horrible plain.  What is there to
be cheerful about?"

"Well, here's one thing--we've got away from the Indians.  There isn't a
sign of them behind."

"Of course there isn't," grumbled Ned.  "Indians are not such idiots as
to come across a place like this."

"Griggs says they do sometimes."

"I don't believe it; they must always go round.  Oh, I do wish we hadn't
come."

Somehow or other, the more low-spirited and doleful Ned became, the more
hopeful and cheery Chris seemed.  Perhaps it was what he called
make-believe, and put on by a great effort, but he was the brightest of
the party and brought a smile to the lip of every one in turn with his
light, trivial remarks, all of which, however, had a suggestion that, in
spite of their terrible sufferings, he was looking at the best side of
things.

"I say, father," he cried, as mid-day was approaching, "this is a better
desert than the other one we crossed."

"I don't see much difference, my boy.  Why do you think so?"

"It's so nice and smooth.  You don't have to keep stumbling over
stones."

"But that's a fault, boy," said his father.  "Some of those great stones
cast a little shade.  Here we have none.  Halt!" he cried loudly.  "Four
hours' rest and sleep."

The mules were unloaded, the ponies' saddles removed, and the tent-sheet
was spread over the horizontal raised pole for shade, such as it was;
and then no one thought of how, but lay down to sleep, lying motionless
till the doctor summoned them again for the resumption of the march,
when all began to compare notes.

"Sleep?  No, I never had a wink," said Ned.  "Who could sleep, with the
sun seeming to burn a hole in that canvas?"

"I didn't go to sleep either," said Chris; "but one feels a bit rested
with lying down."

"No, one don't," said Ned; and the weary tramp went on, with nothing
visible in front of the overstrained eyes but the glare, and a thick
misty look as if the atmosphere was full of hot, dusty sand.

The pace at which they went on appeared to be slower, but it was the
party's want of perception which diminished and magnified at the same
time, principally the latter, in making the journey appear longer than
it really was, while that hot afternoon went on in a nightmare-like
waking dream which made Ned complain at last that he was going off his
head.

"I'm not," said Chris, laughing.  "I feel as if I'm always going off my
legs."

"What nonsense!" grumbled Ned.

"It isn't; I feel so.  It's just as if my body goes on while my feet
keep sinking in the sand and won't keep up."

"I wish you wouldn't talk," said Ned.

"Why?  Do you want to think?"

"No, of course I don't.  I only want to keep on in this half-asleep way;
it makes it a little better then."

Another halt at sundown, a fairly good meal, and a refreshing sleep,
before the doctor roused all once more towards midnight for the tramp
that was to last till about ten o'clock the next day.  All was done this
time in silence, save that Bourne tried to say hopefully--

"I should think we shall see the mountains quite clearly when day
dawns."

But no one answered, for nobody believed they would.  A feeling of
despondency was making itself too plainly felt, and when broad daylight
did at last come all that could be seen was sand and soda everywhere,
not so much as a shrub or scrap of grass, only scattered stones here and
there, and the party shrank from looking in each other's wild and
bloodshot eyes.

"Forward," said the doctor, at last.  "We'll keep on till about two
hours before noon, and then have a good meal and rest till the sun's
low.  We must be getting well on to our journey's end."

About this time the doctor edged up close to Griggs and entered into
conversation with him in a low tone, "What do you think of it?" he said.

"Don't think at all, sir," was the reply.

"But we shall do it?"

"Must, sir."

"That's right," said the doctor, with a sigh of relief.  "We must not
think, but we must do it.  We've got over the worst of it now, I feel
sure."

The doctor was wrong, for there was an unexpected trouble ahead.

Towards the promised time for the halt there was what all took for a
more hopeful sign: the plain was growing more stony and undulatory,
while sage-brush peeped out in clumps here and there, to be gladly
welcomed by the animals, which lost not an opportunity of cropping the
bitter shoots.

The sun was getting hotter and hotter, and the doctor drew out his
watch, to close it again with a snap which sounded curiously loud in the
painful silence.

"Only another hour," he said, in a husky voice, "and then rest and
breakfast."

He had hardly uttered the words when one of the mules, which had broken
a little way from the line with outstretched muzzle, to nibble a few
grey twigs, gave a leap which nearly dislodged its pack, and uttering a
dismal squeal which was answered by two or three of its fellows, who
turned their weary, straining eyes towards their companion, which now
stood snorting and stamping angrily.

"What's the matter with the poor brute?" cried the doctor, who hurried
towards the animal, closely followed by Griggs.

"Take care, sir--that," said the latter, in a whisper.

"That?  What do you mean?"

"Bitten," said Griggs laconically, as he raised the double rifle that he
had unslung, took a rapid aim, and fired the barrel loaded with small
shot at what seemed to be an undulating line of grey sand.

The report sounded dull and dead, while as the smoke rose the undulating
line of sand became a writhing tangle of something tying itself up into
knots, untying itself, lashing the sand and dust up into a little cloud,
and then as the dust rose the loathsome-looking length of a big snake
became gradually clear to see, with the tail in the air announcing its
owner's nature by keeping up a peculiar skirring sound something like
the running down of a distant piece of clockwork.

"That's done for him," said Griggs, quietly reloading his piece.
"Almost as big a one as they make 'em."

The little party closed round the dying reptile, and then followed the
doctor to where he stepped up to the mule, which kept on stamping and
making efforts to curve round and bite at its near hind-leg, but could
not reach it on account of the pack it bore.

Griggs slung his double rifle and seized the end of the pack-rope,
casting loose the load and letting it slide to the ground, while the
doctor cautiously approached to examine the place at which the mule now
tore fiercely with its teeth.

"Better not, sir," said Griggs warningly.

"But I want to try and help the poor brute," said the doctor.

"Yes, sir; that's nice and humane," said Griggs; "but mules are not
horses nor dogs.  The poor brute is mad with agony, and you'll be kicked
or bitten, to a dead certainty."

"I feel as if I must risk it," said the doctor.  "I might inject
ammonia, and save its life."

He approached closer, holding out one hand and speaking soothingly to
the poor beast; but it turned upon him viciously and snapped at the
extended hand like a dog, fortunately biting short, for the snap was
sharper than the snatch back made by the doctor's hand.

"I told you so," said Griggs reproachfully.  "Yes, we're going to be a
mule short this morning."

For the effort seemed to be too much for the animal, which staggered,
spread-out its legs far apart, uttered a wild squealing bray, fell over
on one side, and lay kicking and plunging as if going at full gallop as
it lay.

"You're right, Griggs," said the doctor.  "But what strength there must
be in that horrible poison!  I should not have believed it would be so
rapid and have such an effect upon an animal like that."

"It got a full dose of it close up where the skin's thinnest, I suppose;
and it was a big rattler, and no mistake."

Just then the mule made an effort to rise to its feet, but sank back to
its former position, and its kicking and plunging grew weaker and
weaker, till it lay panting, with outstretched neck and heaving flanks,
evidently dying fast.

"I might try and do something now," said the doctor thoughtfully, "if
the poor beast were held."

"Too late," said Griggs quietly.  "I don't understand much about snake
poison, but I should say that's running all through the poor thing now."

But Chris's father would not give up.  Hide-ropes were cast loose, while
he hurried to the load which contained the little case of medicines and
surgical appliances which was kept ready for emergencies, and then armed
with bottle and syringe he superintended while nooses were placed round
the poor animal's neck and four fetlocks, each being tightened and the
rope held by some one.  Chris and Ned were ordered to the fore-legs,
Griggs took the neck rope, and Wilton and Bourne the hind-legs.

At a word from the doctor the ropes were drawn taut and the poor beast
stretched out helplessly upon its back, while the doctor seated himself
astride, sought for the tiny punctures made by the rattlesnake's
poison-fangs, and found them where the skin was thinnest and most devoid
of hair, the successful discovery being due to a tiny drop of yellowish
gummy matter which had oozed out.

A caustic was applied to this as soon as the tiny wound had been freely
lanced and set bleeding, and then with the proper instrument a strong
application of ammonia was forced into one of the mule's larger veins,
and all with the slightest of resistance being offered.  Lastly,
encouraged by the animal's quiescence, a strong stimulative ball was
thrust beyond the tongue and seen to pass down the throat.

"I can do no more," said the doctor, "but I should not have been
satisfied if I had not tried.  Be careful now how you loosen the ropes."

There was no difficulty, for the patient lay as still as if it had been
utterly stupefied by the poison, and seemed to all appearance stretched
out dead.

Chris looked at Griggs, who loosened his noose last, and the man shook
his head.

"Could it breathe while that rope was round its neck?" said the boy.

"Breathe?  Yes, of course, my lad.  The lariat did not press upon the
wind-pipe.  There's no strangling in the poor brute's case.  It's
poison's the matter there.  I say, it has wakened us all up."

It was curious to note the effect to which Griggs had drawn attention.
Before the mule was stricken every one in the party had been giddy and
ready to faint with heat and exhaustion, oppressed by a sense of despair
and the dread that the end of the present journey would never be seen;
but as soon as a demand was made upon their energies, all the other
troubles seemed to be forgotten on the instant, and they worked together
heartily and with wonderful spirit, till they all stood watching the
motionless mule.

Bourne was the first to draw attention to the state of affairs, as he
began wiping away the perspiration that streamed down his face.

"I don't think you've done the poor brute much good, Lee," he said.

"I'm afraid not.  I ought to have begun sooner."

"But you've done us a lot," continued Bourne.  "Half-an-hour ago I
didn't seem to have an ounce of energy left in me.  I felt as if there
was nothing to do but lie down and die."

"And I felt the same," chimed in Wilton.

"But as soon as the demand was made upon me I forgot everything in the
excitement, and I feel now ready to go on for hours."

"Yes," said Wilton; "I feel as if Lee had been injecting new life
through my veins.  We've got all the benefit, while the poor mule is
worse."

"Not much, sir," cried Griggs.  "Look at that!"

There was no need for the order, every eye being directed at the injured
animal, which after lying quiescent upon its side with outstretched neck
and no signs of life save the slow, regular heaving of its flank,
suddenly uttered a hoarse shout, gathered itself together, and rose
quickly to its feet, to stand breathing heavily and coughing.

"Why, I do believe he's mastering the poison, doctor, and coming round."

There was no reply, every one being intent upon the mule's movements.

The hard breathing gradually ceased, and the poor brute shook itself,
stamped with its injured hind-leg heavily, shook itself again, uttered
an angry squeal, and curving itself round reached at the wound to bite
the skin, acting, as Chris afterwards said, just as if it had been
bitten by a fly.  The next moment it straightened itself again,
stretched out its neck, and whinnied in a way which brought answers from
some of its companions, and then dropped upon its knees and rolled over,
struggling a little before lying still, its last breath coming in a
weary sigh.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

WON'T YOU SAY GOOD-BYE?

Every eye kept a sharp lookout as soon as the journey was recommenced,
and a strong effort was made to place a few miles between the party and
a spot evidently infested with the venomous reptiles of whose power such
a terrible example had been seen.  Plenty of energy too was displayed
for quite a couple of hours.  Then it died out at once; the boys and
animals seemed as if they could go no farther, and a halt was called in
about the barest spot they had seen.  Several more suitable places had
been passed--places where there was a scanty growth of sage-brush,
others where the plain was rocky or encumbered with stones; but the
doctor's word was "Forward," and the order was obeyed, for in the eyes
of the adventurers every bush and every stone appeared to be the haunt
of a dangerous enemy.

Where they halted at last the plain all round was thick with a dull
silvery haze which intensified the heat of the sun, whose rays seemed to
be passing through a burning-glass, and it was only in obedience to
desperate efforts that the tent-cloth was stretched for shelter and the
animals watered and fed more sparingly than before.  The provisions were
spread-out, but no one could eat.  Every word and look was about the
water and directed at the fast-emptying keg that carried it, other
vessels having long since been exhausted.

"We must lie here till the sun goes down," said the doctor, almost
solemnly, in spite of his effort to speak calmly; "it would be madness
to persevere through this heat.  Then we must make a brave effort to
reach the mountains by morning."

"And if we don't?" said Wilton.

"Don't say if, sir," cried Griggs.  "We must do it."

"If there are any to reach," said Bourne, to himself; but his words were
heard.

"If there are any!" cried the doctor hoarsely.  "I tell you there are.
We saw them distinctly, Griggs and I."

"That's so, gentlemen," said the American.  "Then you must have lost
your way, doctor."

"I have not if there is any truth in a compass.  I laid down our course,
and we have not deviated a bit.  The sun and stars too have endorsed my
calculations.  Come, lie down and try to sleep.  Afterwards we will
serve out some more water, and walk all through the night.  We must be
nearly across now."

There was no answer made to this, every one lying down to try and forget
the agonies of the intense heat and thirst in the sleep which would not
come.

Chris and Ned were together, and lay so that they could look into each
other's eyes despairingly; but neither spoke, closing their lids at last
so as not to see, though with no expectation of obtaining the
much-needed restful forgetfulness.  But it came, and when Chris opened
his eyes again it was to see by the dull red glow that evening was close
at hand.

He raised himself upon his arm, and the faint sound he made was
sufficient to rouse Ned, who also sat up, and looked at him wonderingly,
as if he did not quite understand where he was, till Chris bent towards
him and whispered--"Come outside."

Ned followed him without glancing at the speaker, and they stood
together in the misty heat glow, to note with wonder that some one was
moving about from pack to pack and pausing from time to time to pat the
mules.

The haze seemed to have thickened with the approaching night, so that
the figure was indistinct and hard to see, but after making a few steps
Chris said quickly--

"Why, it's Griggs.  What's the matter with him?  He's staggering about
as if looking for something."

"The water-barrels," whispered Ned hoarsely, and he caught Chris by the
arm.

"What!  He wouldn't," said the boy angrily.  "Let's see what he's
doing."

The American evidently heard their approach, for he turned to gaze at
them strangely; but he made no effort to join them, standing slowly
rocking himself to and fro and saving himself from falling by clinging
to the mule at whose side he stood.

"What's the matter, Griggs?" said Chris hoarsely.

"Oh, it's you!" was the reply.  "I could see you both coming, but you
looked swollen up into giants, and I couldn't make it out."

"But what are you doing here?"

"Doing here?  Yes, I remember.  We must find where the water is
to-night, or it will be too late."

"Oh, don't say that," cried Ned, in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes, that's it," said Griggs strangely.  "Must find the water to-night,
or it will be too late.  I'm going to ride on, but I can't find the
mustangs."

"They're over yonder," said Ned quickly, pointing to where the ponies
could be dimly-seen.

"No; I've been over there, and they're gone."

"Going to ride on?" said Chris, as a thought struck him.

"Yes, before it's too late."

"But you are not in a fit state to ride on, Griggs."

"No.  Everything is going round and round.  Head's all strange and
queer."

"You couldn't sit a horse now."

"No," said the man drowsily, as he laid his arms across the mule's back,
falling forward to slide to the ground, for the mule took two or three
steps to get out of his way.

"Oh, Chris," groaned Ned, "what shall we do?"

The boy addressed did not reply for some moments, and then he repeated
the American's words as if to himself.

The next minute he seemed full of energy, and caught his companion by
the shoulder.

"Ned," he said, "let's take the mule with the empty barrels, and ride on
to get water."

"Where?" said Ned dismally.

"Amongst the mountains."

"Where are they?"

"Over there," said Chris, pointing.

"Where's over there?"

"To the left of where the sun's going down.  That's where we've been
making for all the time."

"Ride on?"

"Yes; it will be quickest."

"Come and ask father what he thinks."

"No," said Chris; "it would be losing time."

"We should never find it, and only die of thirst right away from the
others."

"We should find it.  We must find it, and bring some back."

"But the barrels--they're not empty yet."

"They are," said Chris solemnly.  "I stood by this afternoon, and saw
every drop drained out."

"Oh!" groaned Ned.  "Then it's all over now."

"It isn't, I tell you.  We must go."

"We couldn't do it; we're too weak.  Come and ask your father what he
says."

"It's of no use: I feel sure he's like poor Griggs here.  There, the
sun's going down, looking red as blood.  Quick; the ponies can carry us,
and we'll get the mule with the empty barrels between.  He'll go then."

"Let's ask Wilton to go."

"Let's try and act like men," cried Chris passionately.  "There, you
mustn't oppose me.  That's the way, straight there by where the sun is
sinking.  It must be right.  You must, you shall come."

One weaker than Chris was then would have been sufficient to overawe Ned
in those terrible moments, and he yielded without another word.

The two water-barrels with their linking-chain and the wooden
wool-stuffed pack-saddle lay ready, and the mule that had borne them
suffered itself to be led to where it stood snuffling at the wooden
vessels and passing its tongue about the bung-holes, till they were
slung across its back, and then it stood quietly enough, as if
instinctively grasping the object of this movement.

As for the ponies, they raised their heads from where they were striving
to get a little nourishment from some dust-covered twigs, and whinnied
their welcome to their masters when they were saddled and bridled.

All was soon ready, when Chris raised his head to mark exactly where the
sun had disappeared--a hard task, for the heat haze was thicker than
ever.

"Where's that star?" he said impatiently.

"Which star?"

"That one that goes down of a night three hours after the sun.  The one
my father used to guide us by in the early part of the night, and said
that it was a planet."

"I don't know.  I never heard him say anything about it."

"He did to me.  There, there.  High up; I can see it now; but it looks
faint through this thick dusty air, and it's higher up than I thought
for.  It will be clearer, and lower down by and by."

"Are you going to steer by that?"

"Yes, of course.  Ready?"

"No; we must go and tell our fathers what we are going to do."

"No, we mustn't," said Chris stubbornly; "they'd only say we mustn't go,
and after what Griggs said I'm sure it's our only chance.  We must get
water and bring it back, if they're to be saved."

"But are you sure of that?  Mayn't they be better in the morning, and
ready to go on?"

"Not unless we get back with water.  Now then, will you come?"

"I daren't, Chris," said Ned, with a groan; "it's too horrible."

"Then you're afraid?"

"How can I help it?  See how dreadful it will be to strike right off
into the desert all alone."

"Not so horrible as to stop here and see the others die like that
poisoned mule.  Come."

"I can't: it's cowardly to go and leave them."

"It isn't," cried Chris; "it's brave, and we shall find the water and
bring it back.  Come, we're wasting time.  Come on."

"I dare not."

"Very well," said Chris.  "When father wakes in the morning, tell him
what I've done, and why."

"What shall I say?" cried Ned hoarsely.

"That I felt it was the only chance of saving all our lives; and if I
don't come back it's because I couldn't find water, Ned."

"And then?"

"Good-bye."

"What do you mean by good-bye?"

"I don't know," said Chris sadly.  "Only good-bye."

He held out his hand, but snatched it back and hurried beneath the
spread-out tent-canvas, to drop upon his knees close to where the doctor
lay plunged in a deep stupor more than sleep.

Chris did not rest there many minutes before he sprang up again and
walked hurriedly to where Ned stood with the two ponies and the mule.

"Good-bye," said Chris then.

Ned made no reply, and giving his companion one long reproachful look,
Chris placed his foot in the stirrup and sprang up into the saddle.

"Won't you say good-bye?" he cried.

"No," was the reply, almost in a whisper, and with the darkness coming
on fast now Chris turned away his head and leaned to the farther side of
his pony, to catch hold of the long hide-rope attached to the mule's
snaffle-bit.  Then pressing the mustang's sides with his heels, the
brave little beast stepped off boldly, the mule following close behind
at the full length of the lariat, while the boy fixed the star with his
eyes and made for it straight through the gathering gloom, which seemed
to open out to receive him, and then closed in behind, so that after the
first glance backward the boy made no other, for tent-cloth, packs,
saddles, and the horses and mules had been absorbed by the haze.

If he had turned his head though, ever so little, he would have been
able to see Ned standing by his pony; but he felt that he could not do
that for fear of the weak feeling which caused a strange swelling in his
throat increasing and causing a breakdown of the determination to which
he had come.

"I can't do it," he groaned, as he rode on at a walk, and then repeating
the word "Good-bye!" in a whisper, he bent forward a little, gave the
hide lariat a jerk, and pressing his pony's sides, went off at an
ambling trot, the mule following at once with the two barrels rolling
against the wood of the pack-saddle, and with the chains making a
peculiar hollow and jingling sound.

"If it were not so hot!" he muttered then, as he strove to think only of
the object he had in view.  "We ought to get over a long distance before
daylight, for I feel as if I shall be able to do it, and the mountains
may be near when the broad daylight comes."

He was getting along at a fair pace now, gazing straight at the planet
and listening to the rattle of the two barrels, when his pony uttered a
sharp neigh, which was followed by a squeal from the mule--two
challenges uttered by those whose hearing was keener than their
master's, and responded to by another neigh from behind.

In less than a minute, and before Chris had made up his mind which of
the ponies was following, there was the beat of hoofs, and something
shadowy closed in from the haze behind, to come close alongside.

"Who's that?  You, Ned?"

"Yes," came in a husky voice.

"What do you want?"

"You know.  I can't let you go all alone."

"What!" cried the boy, in a hoarse, cracked voice.  "You don't mean--"

"Yes, I do.  You must be right."

It was the speaker who held out a dimly-seen hand now, one that was
grasped and held while the ponies closed in so much together that the
boys' legs touched as they cantered steadily on straight for a line
drawn down in imagination from the planet now twinkling brightly--the
guiding star which both boys mentally prayed might lead them to the
object of their quest.

Then cantering steadily till the ponies dropped into a walk to avoid
rough ground, the two lads rode on and on, with the barrels rolling
behind, and the hours gently gliding by unheeded, till the glittering
star sank lower and lower and dropped at last into the great bed of haze
which seemed to extinguish it all at once, but not until Chris had
marked down another to take its place as their goal.

Neither spoke, for their heads were too full of the object they had in
view, with its hopes and many fears.

The ponies kept on straight for the starry guides, not deviating in the
least from the point at which their heads had been directed by their
riders, and the mule followed steadily behind, with the empty barrels
keeping up their hollow, rumbling sound, and it was this that seemed to
form a strange lulling accompaniment to the boys' thoughts, which in the
course of their progress gradually darkened into a confused
nightmare-like state.  It was not sleep, but a stupor in which they kept
on their horses instinctively, from no voluntary effort of their own.
The state of exhaustion and weakness into which they had been lapsing
during the perilous journey must have had much to do with their
feelings, and robbed them of the power to feel more than a dull, numbing
pain which came and went as their steeds ambled or walked unchecked or
guided by rein, for even the lariat had glided from Chris's fingers and
trailed along behind the mule upon the sand.  Not that it mattered, for
the mongrel beast kept steadily on behind its companions, trotting or
cantering or dropping into a walk as they gave it the cue, but never
once stopping to rest or attempting to browse.

Always onward, straight onward, while the riders sank deeper and deeper
into their strange stupor-like state, which, in one faint struggle back
into partial consciousness, Chris had likened to the closing-in of the
sultry haze which seemed to him to press upon him as if it grew so thick
that it held him fast what time he was being urged through it.

Then utter unconsciousness of everything, which lasted without change
and as if the very calm, restful, painful end of all things had come.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A MULE'S SCENT.

Ned had much the same account to give as Chris of his sensations about
the waking up on hearing a loud snorting and splashing, accompanied by
the squealing of the mule and the rattling of the tubs and chain.

Sleep or stupor, whichever it was, the boys had kept their seats during
the night, and at early dawn when Chris opened his eyes, half startled
by the splashing, he saw what looked like a grey plain covered with
dried-up salt, stretching right away to a thick bank of what appeared to
be clouds.

Then as he sat staring wonderingly, he saw that the salt plain seemed to
be in motion, little waves passing away from where he sat; and then, as
the truth gradually dawned upon his misty brain, he slipped off his
pony, to stand knee-deep in water and begin to scoop up the soft cool
fluid and drink.

He had swallowed several mouthfuls before his brain grew clearer, and
then his first matter-of-fact un-dreamlike thought was of Ned, and he
cried aloud--

"Water, water!"

The answer was a gurgling sound from somewhere to the right, and turning
in that direction just as there was a tremendous splashing, he became
aware of the fact, dimly-seen in the grey dawn, that his companion was
also standing knee-deep and drinking; the ponies were calmly drawing in
the refreshing fluid between their slightly-parted lips, and the mule
was wallowing and trying to roll over, every now and then sending its
legs in the air, for them to come down again and raise quite a spray,
for the effort to turn right over was a failure, the two barrels secured
to the animal's back acting like buoys and keeping afloat.

The next moment, regardless of his clothes, Chris dropped upon his
knees, bent down till his lips were within touch of the water, and then
he drank, so it seemed to him, as he had never drunk before.

Breathless after a while he raised his head again.

"Ned!  Oh, isn't it glorious!"

There was no reply, for his companion was now bending down and drinking
with avidity.

But at last he too raised his head at the same time that the mule ceased
splashing, stood up in the water, and gave itself a tremendous shake,
before lowering its muzzle and drinking like the mustangs.

"Ned!" cried Chris.  "Why don't you say something?"

"I can't," was the reply.  And then: "I say, is it true, or only part of
the long dream?"

"True, true!" cried Chris.  "But look sharp.  Let's fill the barrels and
get back to camp."

"Hah!" ejaculated Ned in a long sigh.  "Fill the barrels--get back.
Yes, I'm beginning to be able to think now.  My head felt all shut up
and as if it wouldn't go.  We have found water, then."

"Yes, and we've been drinking, and--What are you doing?"

There was no answer, for Ned did not hear, from the simple fact that he
had suddenly plunged his head right under water, to hold it there for
nearly a minute, before raising it streaming.

"Oh, Chris," he cried, "do that; it's lovely!"

His comrade wanted no more inciting to follow the example set, keeping
his head below the surface in despite of the water thundering in his
ears, till he was obliged to raise it and breathe.

"If we only had time for a swim," he cried, as he stood up panting once
more.

"Yes, let's have one."

"No," said Chris; "the barrels--we must fill them and get back."

"Yes, of course," cried Ned.  "I can't think properly yet.  My head's
all muddly.  But how can we fill them?  If we take them off can we lift
them on the mule's back again?"

"Perhaps not," cried Chris.  "But I know," he added, after a pause.

"Do you?  Oh, my head's so muddly.  Let's be quick and get back.  I'm
beginning to think now.  Why, what wretches we are, drinking away here,
and my father must be dying of thirst."

"Yes.  Don't talk," cried Chris huskily.  "Here, get to the other side
of the mule and take hold of the bit."

Ned stared, but obeyed, and together they led the animal between them,
wading farther into the lake, with the water gradually getting deeper,
when as it grew breast-high Ned burst out with--

"Yes, the water seems to have melted something in my head, and I can
think now.  I say, are there any alligators here?"

"I don't know," replied Chris.  "Perhaps.--Come on, you brute!" he
roared, for the mule began to jib and refused to go any farther in when
from its own natural buoyancy and that of the barrels its legs refused
to touch the bottom.

Chris's fierce shout was accompanied by a heavy dig in the side from his
knee, an act which Ned imitated with the result that the mule snorted,
tossed up its head, and then lowered it, prior to kicking up its heels.
But in performing the evolution of lowering its muzzle its mouth went
down into the cool water, and the opposition ceased in the enjoyment of
drawing in mouthfuls of the limpid element, while with all four legs
separated to the utmost, the animal now refused to move.

"You brute!" roared Ned.

But the mule was quite aware of that fact.  It knew it was one of the
most despised of brutes, and had been told so till it ceased to have any
effect, while now that it was drinking, whip or spur, kick or blow would
have had no effect.

"Never mind," cried Chris.  "I know--we can manage."  As he spoke he
rapidly opened the tompion-like cover of one bung-hole, letting it
rattle down by the side of the empty barrel and hang by its little brass
chain, and then dragged at the barrel, trying vainly to bring the
opening down to a level with the water.

"Oh, do something, Ned," shouted Chris.  "We ought to be on the way
back.  Shove your barrel up as high as you can."

Ned thrust his shoulder under the side and forced the barrel up, and the
wooden pack-saddle gave a little at the same time.

"That do?" he cried.

"Yes, splendid!"  For by pressing down with all his force Chris got the
opening level at last with the water, which began to stream in till its
weight rendered the task less difficult, and by degrees the barrel kept
its own position, the air within going out in strange hollow sounds as
it was dislodged.

"Now I'm more than half full, Ned," cried Chris eagerly.  "I'll hoist up
my side while you draw your barrel down."

This task proved more difficult, but after a few tries a little water
rushed into the empty receptacle.  Then a little more and a little more,
till Chris thrust upward with all his might, and the clear fluid ran in
with a rush, till the mule raised its head, shook the drops from its
muzzle, and whinnied.

Then, feeling far less buoyant from what it had drunk and the way in
which the light barrels began to be turned into weights which kept it
steady, there was no more resistance to being led in deeper, so that
with very little effort the casks were lowered in turn till the water
ceased to flow in, and the tompions were replaced and safely secured.

The water was now, at every movement made, passing in little waves right
over the mule's spine, and there it stood showing its teeth as if
preparing to bite, but made no vicious effort, only stood blinking its
eyes and turning its ears in all directions as if in the height of
enjoyment.

As soon as the second barrel was secured, "full to the bung," the mule's
head was turned.

"Go on!" shouted Chris, and it slowly walked out of the shallowing
water, till it stood dripping on the sandy marge.

"Now," cried Chris, "I'm going to lead my mustang in as far as I can
wade, so as to get regularly soaked, and it will freshen the beasts
too."

"Yes, capital.  Shall we take off the saddles?"

"No, we won't stop."

The ponies were led in till only their necks were out of the water, and
then turned towards the shore; but they stopped twice to drink, and were
approaching the spot where the mule stood, when Chris uttered a cry and
caught at his saddle to save himself, his pony at the same moment making
a plunge and snorting violently.

"What's the matter?" cried Ned anxiously.

"Some big fish struck at me suddenly.  No, I know, it must have been a
big alligator."

Ned's jaw dropped and his eyes opened very wide as he began to splash
through the water as hard as he could go, the pony following willingly
enough, but only to snort and plunge as a swell of water rose before
them where the water was very shallow, and a dark, bark-like, glistening
back was seen for a moment, followed by a tapering tail, as a reptile
glided by.

"I wonder whether the brutes would bite," said Ned.

"I shouldn't like to trust them," was the reply.  "But oh, what a change
since last night," continued the boy, half-wild with delight, as the sun
began to show a little over the edge of the horizon, flooding the world
with golden light and turning the pale, silvery lake as it were into
glowing fire.

The boys only glanced for a moment or two at the glorious scene before
them of lake and undulating country backed by mountains.  Then, after
tying the trailing lariat about the mule's neck, they mounted their
ponies, all dripping as they were, ready for the march to camp, but only
to suffer a chill of misery as the same thought struck both--

Which was the way back?

"Why, we shall never find them!"

"Coming here as we did, fast asleep as we must have been," groaned Ned.

"The mule must have smelt the water far-off," said Chris, "and found the
way here."

"Yes, but he won't find the way back to camp.  What shall we do?  What
shall we do?"

There was a piteous, despairing ring in Ned's voice as he sat gazing
woefully in Chris's eyes.

"We might go right away," said the latter thoughtfully, and then in a
tone full of exultation, "We're a pretty pair," he cried; "look how
plain the hoof-marks are in the sand.  Why, we've only got to pick up
the trail and follow it back.  There, you go that way and I'll go this.
It can't be far away."

"No, of course not," cried Ned, urging his pony forward in the direction
indicated, while Chris started in the other, keeping close to the
water's edge, where the sand was firm.

But the mule was not going to be left alone, and followed Chris's mount.
Not for far.  Within a hundred yards there were the hoof-prints of the
animals, going straight into the shallow lake on one side and on the
other leading straight away over the sandy plain, which here came right
up to the water's edge.

"_Coo-ee_!" shouted Chris, and Ned came cantering back.

"Found the trail?" he cried.

"Yes, here it is, with the mule leading.  That's where he walked right
into the lake.  And we've been abusing mules and calling them names ever
since I can remember.  Ned, I'll never be a brute to a mule again.  Will
you lead?"

"No.  You found the trail.  Go on, and I'll come last.  As fast as you
can."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

DESPERATE STRAITS.

Chris uttered a wild whoop of delight.

"Water!  Water!  Water!" he shouted.  "Here we come!"

The announcement was intended for those he had left at the camp, but the
words seemed to be lost in the immensity of space.  But he did not heed
this, only pressed on, to halt at the end of a hundred yards for the
others to come up.  His pony had lowered its head as if recognising the
track and started off at a canter; but Chris realised directly that the
progress did not depend upon him but the mule, which at starting refused
to go in advance of Ned, and stubbornly stood still, and no urging would
make it move.

"Come on first, Ned," shouted Chris, as the efforts of his companion
proved to be in vain.

"Oh, he is a brute!" cried Ned, but he did as he was ordered, following
his leader, and the mule, heavily-laden as it was, lowered its head and
began to lounge along last at the regular mule pace.

"Oh, but this won't do," cried Chris, as they came up.  "I never thought
of it when we were filling the barrels.  It'll take no end of time to
get back like this."

He led on again in silence, seeing the trail marked plainly enough, and
wonderfully straight, the animals having pretty well always stepped in
their leader's tracks.  But at the end of a few minutes' advance at a
walk he turned his head to shout back--

"Oh, Ned, Ned, what shall we do?  Everything, you see, depends on this
mule, and he'll only keep to his regular pace.  His load's too heavy.
We must run half of it away."

"What!  Waste that water?  No."

"But it seems so heavy."

"He wouldn't go a bit faster if you poured away nearly all."

"I'm afraid not," groaned Chris.  "What can we do?  I say, I wonder how
far it is to camp.  Can you guess, Ned?"

The boy shook his head.

"It must be," continued Chris, as he rode on, wrenching right round in
his saddle, and trusting to his mustang to follow the back trail, "just
as far as the mule would walk from the time we started till daybreak
this morning.  Hours and hours and hours, all going so slowly, for we
should have been woke up if they had broken into a fast trot.  I'm
afraid we must spill out some of the water."

"But I tell you that this slow wretch wouldn't go a bit faster.  He's
walking now just at the same rate as when the barrels were empty."

Chris felt that these were the words of truth, and remained silent.  He
would have gone behind the animal and bullied or urged it forward with
blows, in spite of his late words, but he felt confident that the result
would only be a stubborn fit, kicking or perhaps lying down.

A short time before the boy had felt in the highest glee.  Success had
attended their effort, and there seemed to be nothing else to do but
hurry back to the fainting sufferers with the life-giving fluid and
receive their thanks and praise, while now, in addition to the bitter
despair and misery, there was a fresh sensation which he connected then
with a feeling of sinking that made him gaze piteously at his companion,
but only to be struck with his sunken eyes and agonised aspect.

"Don't look like that, Ned," he said.  "Why, you're worse than I am."

"I can't help it.  I feel quite ill.  We shall never get back to them in
time.  Father looked as if he wouldn't be able to get up again."

"So did my father.  I never saw him look so dreadful before.  He must be
in an awful state, or else he'd have been able to take something from
the medicine-chest to help him hold out longer.  But there, it's of no
use to give way like this.  We must get back to camp with this water.
Do you hear?  We must!"

"Yes," said Ned mournfully.  "We must.--Chris."

"Yes?"

"If I fall off my nag and can't get up again--"

"Oh, don't talk like that.  It's idiotic."

"I can't help it.  If I fall over and lie still on the sand, I want you
to promise me something."

"Then I shan't," cried Chris shortly.  "Get out!  You're going to
pretend that you'll lie down and die, and you're going to make your
will."

"No; it wasn't exactly that; but if you get back to them and are saved,
you may have my four-bladed knife with the stone-pick and lancet in it."

"Oh, hang your old knife!" cried Chris ungraciously.  "I don't want it.
Mine's ever so much better, and doesn't hurt your hand when you're
cutting anything.  Now, no nonsense!  Fancying you're going to fall off
your pony and not being able to get up again!  Why, if you go on
fancying such things as that in the hot sunshine, you're pretty well
sure to turn giddy and go down.  Look here."

"Yes?" sighed Ned.

"I feel just as bad as you do, but I don't begin a lot of nonsense about
leaving you my knife.--Such stuff!"

"It isn't stuff," sighed Ned.  "I'm horribly ill now.  So faint and
strange."

"Have some water.  I'll get some out."

"No, no, no; I've had enough.  I don't feel a bit parched and thirsty
now, for the water seems to have gone right into me from my wet
clothes."

"The same here," said Chris, after a glance over his shoulder to see if
his pony was keeping to the return trail, and being convinced that he
was.  "I could talk like you, for I never felt so ill before.  I say,
how one's things are drying in the sunshine!  I've quite done dripping."

"Yes; but, Chris, I haven't told you all I was going to say."

"And you needn't.  You were going to say that I might have your German
silver pocket-comb too."

"I wasn't," said Ned reproachfully.  "But you may, and everything else
I've got, for I shall never want them again."

"Yes, you will, stupid.  Oh, I say, don't be such a Molly."

Ned shook his head.

"Won't you listen to me?" he said piteously.

"Why, of course I will, old chap.  I'm only talking like this because I
want you to be plucky.  Ned, you're not going to lie down and die.  You
can't--you shan't.  I've felt like this for the last half-hour, but I
won't let myself believe that it's all through the despair and misery we
feel."

"But it is, Chris.  I'm glad I came with you, though," said the poor
fellow sadly.

"So am I, and it was very jolly and chummy of you.  Just like you, Ned.
We've often had rows, but we always made it up again, and I never liked
you any the less.  Never half so much as I did when you came trotting
after me to look for this water."

"I like to hear you say that," said Ned, smiling faintly.  "If you get
safe back I want you to think still in this way after I've gone."

"After you've gone!" cried Chris passionately.  "Oh, if we'd only plenty
of time and weren't so faint, I should like to have the worst row with
you that we ever tried to fight out.  You're not going to lie down and
die.  It would be absurd after we've got the water, and--"

Ned started and bent forward, holding on to the pommel of his saddle
with both hands to steady himself, for as he rode almost backwards Chris
suddenly clutched at nothing and nearly fell from his seat.

"There, there!" panted Ned.  "Oh, don't fall, Chris!  One of us is
enough.  You mustn't fall and lie there, because I want you to do
something for me."

"Yes," said Chris softly, and with a wild-eyed stare at his companion.

"I want you to tell father that I held out to the last, and tried hard
to do my duty as he told me to always."

"Yes--yes," sighed Chris hoarsely.  "I'll--I'll tell him, if I get back
to camp.  But oh, Ned, it is so hard now, when we've got the water.  All
the strength has gone from me.  I say, tell me, if we both fall out of
our saddles and lie there, do you think that the ponies will go on to
the camp?"

"No; I'm sure they won't.  They'll stop beside us, looking down in our
faces with their big, patient eyes.  They won't stir for ever so long."

"Oh!" groaned Chris faintly.  "And we shall have got the water for
nothing."

"No," said Ned.  "The ponies will stop, but the mule won't; he'll keep
right on along the back trail, and they'll get the water after all."

"Ah!" sighed Chris, with a bright light coming into his eyes.  "Then it
won't have been for nothing."

"What are you doing?" said Ned, more strongly, as he saw his comrade
begin to unfasten the knotted silk kerchief about his neck.

"Going to tie this to the chain.  Father will know it's mine, and that
it means good-bye, and--"

The effort was too much.  The giddiness from which he was suffering
mastered him, and he fell over sidewise on to the fast-heating sand, but
with his left foot fast in the stirrup-iron, while the pony kept on a
few feet before stopping short and turning to gaze down in his rider's
face.

"Chris!  Chris!" cried Ned, checking his pony as he closed up, while the
mule went tramping on with its heavy load as if nothing whatever was the
matter.

To the last speaker's wonder and horror, as the excitement of his
comrade's mishap drove his own sufferings into the background, Chris
raised himself a little and extricated his foot from the stirrup, before
hauling himself up by the leather, to stand steadying himself by the
saddle, laughing the while what sounded to Ned like a wild, hysterical
laugh that was to be his last.

"Chris!" he cried.

"It's all right," gasped the boy, struggling to grow calm.  "That tumble
has knocked the faintness out of me.  I know now--what's--what's the
matter with us both."

"Chris!" rang out again.

"I know, I tell you--I felt a little while ago--oh, so ill, as if
something was coming on and we were both going to die.  But I know now.
Can't you see, Ned?"

There was no answer.

"Then I'll tell you.  What did you have to eat yesterday?"

"Eat?  I couldn't eat, only drink that little drop of water."

"And I couldn't, and didn't have above half a meal the night before.
Then we've been through so much ever since, and drunk all that water,
and the sun's been beating down on us."

"What!" cried Ned, staring.  "You mean it's because we're so hungry?"

"Why, of course it is.  Now, tumble off your pony and lie down and die
if you dare!"

"Chris!"

"That's it, I tell you, and you know it is.  Oh dear, I feel so
light-headed, and so empty and faint, and nothing else the matter with
me at all, only that I'm so miserable because we can't get on faster."

Ned sat staring and thinking hard, but he said no word in contradiction
of his companion's theory.

And there they stayed for quite ten minutes, Ned seated in his saddle,
Chris standing resting against his, and with his pony pressing against
him as if to keep him upright.

"Look at old Skeeter's brother," said Chris, at last.  "He must be his
brother, because he's so like him."

Ned looked in the same direction as his companion, to see that the mule
had gone plodding on along the trail, flapping one ear to keep off the
flies, and looking as if nothing would prevent it from going straight
back to the camp.

"I say, you feel better now, don't you?" said Chris suddenly.

"I feel very ill and weak and giddy."

"That's how I feel," said Chris, "and I'm afraid to try and get up into
the saddle again.  I know I shall go down bang."

"No, no, don't," cried Ned excitedly.  "Here, I'll get on the other
side, and take hold of your hand."

"Shan't I pull you down too?"

"No," said Ned, speaking more strongly; "I won't let you."

"Catch hold, then," cried Chris, as his comrade urged his nag alongside
that of Chris, and then as they joined hands, the latter raised his left
foot to the stirrup, sprang up, and dropped into the saddle with a sigh
of relief.

"Well done us!" he panted.  "Who'd ever have thought that being half
starved would make two fellows feel like that?"

"It was awful, wasn't it?"

"Not so horrible as thinking about them all dying for want of water.
Oh, Ned, Ned, Ned, can't we get one barrel on your or my pony and ride
on fast?"

"No," said Ned decisively.  "We couldn't hold it on, and we couldn't go
fast."

"And we couldn't fasten the other on the mule's back.  Is there nothing
else we could do?"

"I can't see anything but going right on.  Let's catch up to the mule
now and keep on talking so as to forget about being so faint.  I say,
how fast one's clothes dry!"

"Yes," said Chris; "and how cool one feels in spite of the sun coming
down as if it would roast us.  Do you know why it is?"

"No," replied Ned.

"I'll tell you, then.  Father told me once.  He said it was one of the
laws of physics."

"I say, don't talk about physic now."

"Who was talking about physic, stupid?  I said physics--natural science.
Father said that in evaporation a feeling of coolness always comes on.
That's what we feel now as the water in our clothes evaporates.  He
showed me how to cool water by filling a bottle and wrapping it in
flannel, then keeping it wet and standing it in the sun."

"Yes, I knew that made it cooler, but I didn't know it had anything to
do with evaporation.  Then the water in the barrels must be nice and
cool."

"Nay, not it," said Chris sharply.  "That's getting warm, because the
outside of the barrels is not kept wet.--Well, old Skeeter's brother,
how are you getting on?" he cried, as they rode up one on either side of
the mule, the only answer being the cocking of one ear in the speaker's
direction, the other at Ned.

"Let's give up worrying about it, Chris," said Ned at last.  "We can do
nothing else but keep on as we are, only hoping and praying that they're
all lying down trying to sleep till we come.  It's impossible to get on
any faster."

"Quite," said Chris despairingly.  "I will hope and feel sure that all
will turn out as it should.  It must.  It shall.  I say, how long have
we been coming since we started?"

"I don't know, and I can't think," was the reply.

"I say, I can't see the lake now," cried Chris.  "It's all hidden by the
thick hot haze that has closed in."

"Can you see the beautiful country and the mountains there still?"

"No; nothing but the thick, hot, transparent mist and the sand and
sage-brush everywhere, behind, just as it is now in front.  I say, how
well old muley keeps to the trail!  I wish it wasn't so hazy; we should
see the tent perhaps then."

Ned turned off the conversation at a tangent, for the sight of a clump
of stones gave him a subject full of interest.

"Stones and rocky bits, with little heathery-like bushes.  I say, Chris,
keep a good lookout.  Isn't this the sort of country for rattlesnakes?"

"Ugh!" ejaculated Chris.  "I say, how horrible if the mule were to step
on one of the nasty reptiles now."

"We should have to fit the barrels on one of the ponies then, and take
turns at walking.  But let's try and guide them more away from the
heath."

They tried, but the mule resisted their efforts at once and showed a
stern determination to keep to the trail, while the ponies backed it up
on either side.

Then the conversation dropped, was resumed again twice, but in vain at
last, for the heat and exertion were telling upon the poor lads now to a
terrible extent.  Their eyes grew wild and bloodshot, the faintness came
on with increased force and refused to be exorcised, with each brain
swimming at first a little, then more and more, till a heavy stupefying
state of torpor supervened, and it was no longer the riders that
directed their four-footed friends, but the latter leading them on and
on hour after hour.

Though the boys could not realise the fact, the sun had crossed the
meridian and was slowly beginning to descend, when there was a sudden
arousing from the torpor-like state, brought about by the mule coming to
a standstill with its legs spread-out widely, hanging its head, while
its drooping ears and starting eyes told plainly enough that it was
suffering acutely from heat and exhaustion, its eyes seeming to say
mutely--

"The burden is too heavy, masters; if I stir another foot I must drop."

"Can we do something--open one of the barrels and soak a handkerchief to
hold it to the poor thing's mouth?" said Chris loudly--he meant it to
be, but it was only a hoarse, harsh sound which came from his lips,
while when he descended from his saddle to step towards the barrel
nearest to him, it suddenly seemed to fade away into the haze through
which they had been passing, and in his effort to catch it poor Chris
fell headlong to the ground and lay staring blankly upwards at Ned.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

WAKING UP.

"Oh, Chris!" groaned Ned, as he dismounted feebly, to fall on one knee
by his companion's side.

Chris's eyes followed every movement, and he seemed to hear what was
said, for he smiled faintly.

"That's you, isn't it, Ned?" he said slowly.  "Can't see.  Black spots
floating about in front, and everything going round and round."

Ned's answer was another groan, for the trouble was on the increase.

The poor mule had done its best and kept on till it could do no more.
Just then it made an effort to go on again, looking wistfully at Ned, in
whose acts it evidently read an order for it to advance.

Drawing its legs together into a more natural attitude, it took a step
or two, stumbled, and then dropped upon its knees, made another effort
to rise, but failed, and doubled its hind-legs under it, to crouch so
that the two barrels rested on the sand; and then the poor beast uttered
a long hoarse sigh as if of relief, while for a time it made no further
effort to stir.

Ned glanced at the ponies, the thought occurring to him that he ought to
secure their reins; but they did not display the slightest desire to
leave their companion, only stretching out their necks towards the mule
and breathing hard before pressing forward slightly, to begin snuffing
at one of the barrels.

This act set Ned's wits working, and he recalled what Chris was about to
do.  He was so faint and giddy that it required a painful effort even to
stir, but he caught the kerchief from his companion's hand and began to
unfasten the well-secured stopper of the nearest barrel, which stood
steady enough now in the sand.

This done, he thrust in about half of the kerchief, let it soak full of
water, raised it carefully so that every superabundant drop should fall
back into the barrel, and then, pressing open Chris's lips, squeezed a
few drops between them, more and more as they were swallowed with
avidity, and passed his wet hands over the prostrate lad's temples.

This he did again and again, suffering an acute longing to treat himself
in the same way, but resisting the temptation, till Chris closed his
eyes with a weary sigh, his lips tightening together, and he lay
motionless.

Ned soaked the handkerchief again, and pressed its contents in his own
mouth, swallowing the moisture with avidity, noting the while that the
two ponies were licking the farther barrel and breathing hard, as if
they could feel the cool fresh odour of the water playing in their
nostrils, while at the same time the mule, pinned down by the weight of
the two barrels, strained its neck round and whinnied, as it looked
piteously in his face.

The look had its effect, for the end of the kerchief was once more
thrust into the barrel, allowed to soak, and then drawn out.

"I don't know how we're going to manage," thought the boy, as he held
the dripping corner of the kerchief towards the mule's muzzle; but the
poor brute did, and acted without hesitation, making a snap as sharply
delivered as that of a dog, and catching the end between its strong
teeth.  Then it gave its head a toss, and treating the water-bearing
piece of fabric as if it were a wisp of wet grass, drew it, dripping and
cool, right into its mouth, the sharp tug or two given overcoming Ned's
resistance.

Before the boy could recover from his surprise there was a quick juicy
sound of champing in accord with the movement of the mule's jaws, a
gulp, and the kerchief had gone.

"You stupid brute!" cried Ned indignantly.  "What am I to do now?"

Common-sense suggested what should be his next proceeding, and that was
to take off his own handkerchief and his felt hat, which he turned
inside out.  Then laying it beyond the mule's reach, he soaked the fresh
kerchief till it would hold no more, squeezed it so that the contents
fell into the reversed crown of his hat, and repeated the act till about
half of half-a-pint of dirty water lay ready.  This he held out to the
mule, which plunged in its lips and rapidly sucked out every drop.

Repeating the process, Ned managed to give each of the ponies enough to
wash out its mouth.

"If I only had a straw or a reed!" thought the boy; but there was hardly
a twig of the sage-brush to be seen, and he shook his head in despair.

But there was something else to do.  The mule was fidgeting, and any
restive action on the beast's part might mean waste of water; so he
hurriedly closed the tompion, leaving its brass chain so that there was
no risk of loss; and this was hardly done before, refreshed by its
portion, the mule made a desperate effort to rise, but only got its
fore-legs well planted, and then sank back.  It made two more trials,
but with less and less success, and then, apparently fully aware of the
fact that the weight carried was too much for it, resignation ensued,
and the poor beast lay partly over on its side between the barrels, and
made no further effort beyond seeking for a restful position in which to
lay its heavy head.  This was fully stretched out in the sand, where the
last thing Ned seemed to see was the twitching of the poor brute's long
ears to rid itself of the flies which attacked it as if under the idea
that they had found something dead.

The sun's intense heat soon made the boy aware of the fact that his head
was bare, and restoring his hat to its proper shape he replaced it,
finding it cool enough to enable him to think a little more clearly of
his position and ask himself whether he could do anything more.  He
asked Chris the same question that he had put to himself, but there was
no reply, for it was evident that the poor fellow had sunk into a
complete state of stupor, and he was soon aware that he was fast
following his friend's example.  For the soft black spots began to float
before his eyes, growing larger and larger, till they seemed to blot out
the objects that had begun to sail slowly round and round.

There was a little reaction after this, and he saw the mule's eyes
closed and the two mustangs sniffing again at the farther barrel, and
heard them sigh as if in weary disappointment at not being able to get
at the contents.  But Ned felt no trouble, for everything seemed to be
restful now that he was convinced that he could do no more after doing
his best.

There was the glowing haze all around, and the terrible silence of the
dusty plain, with the nearest objects standing out with wonderful
clearness, till they began at last to sail slowly round and round him,
while the black spots formed in front of his eyes--tiny distinct specks
at first, which gradually swelled and swelled till they grew soft and
blurred; blacker and blacker too, as they blotted out the moving
objects, and finally the glowing, hot, silvery haze; and then all was
black darkness and silence profound.

At last.

Ned did not know what that meant.  He did not hear any words spoken nor
how it was.  It was his coming back into a state of consciousness, and
all he felt was that it somehow was at last.  Time had nothing to do
with it, and the first consistent thought was that it rained hard; the
next that something was stinging his nostrils as if hundreds of tiny
points were being inserted into the soft, delicate skin.

Soon after he seemed to be listening to people talking a long way off.
They were making remarks about some one else, but he had no idea what,
till it was as if something cracked in each ear and he started with his
eyes wide open, to see that the sky above was all of a deep red glow,
and on looking round him there were faces and mules, and packs lying
just as if they had been taken off the mules' backs.

"He's coming round now," said a familiar voice, and then he started
again, to find that everything was clear, and that he was looking in the
doctor's face.

"Is he?" said Ned sharply, in a voice that he did not know for his own.
"Has he been very bad?"

"Worse than any of us, Ned, my boy," said another familiar voice.

"Is that you, father?" cried Ned.

"What's left of me, my boy.  I began to think we should never shake
hands again.  You two fellows saved our lives."

Ned was silent, and lay with his hand pressed to his forehead, waiting
till he could quite grasp that which seemed to be dancing strangely in
his brain.

"No, father," he said at length; "I recollect now.  We did try, but we
couldn't.  We broke down."

"Yes," said the doctor; "but just where we could find you when we were
struggling on and nearly at the last gasp."

"I don't understand you, Mr Lee.--Who's that--Griggs?"

"Yes, it's me," said the American, "but I'm feeling pretty thin, my lad,
I can tell you.  May I shake hands?"

"Why, of course!" cried Ned.

"Come away from him now," said the doctor in a whisper.  "I'm rather
troubled about his head."

"Oh, it don't ache now," said Ned sharply, "and things are not going
round now.  But you said Chris was better?"

"Yes.  He's sleeping under the tent.  I kept you here because there is
more air."

"Where are we?" asked Ned anxiously.

"Just in the same spot as when we found you, with the mule broken-down
under the heavy load of water."

"Of course.  I remember it all now," cried Ned excitedly.  "I broke down
first, and after I got better it was poor old Chris.  But he's all right
now?"

"He will be soon," said the doctor.

"Can you tell us how far it is to the water, Ned?" said Wilton, making
himself heard for the first time.

"No," said Ned thoughtfully, "but I'm afraid it's a long way.  Why?"

"Because we've finished one of the barrels and half of the other, my
boy," said Bourne.  "We must be getting on again, then, doctor?"

"Yes; as soon as they can sit their horses."

"Can't be very far, sir," said Griggs, "because of the time they were
away.  Say, Ned, my lad, can you tell us when you started back with the
water?"

"Yes," said the boy; "directly after sunrise."

"And when did the mule cave in?"

"I don't quite know, because my head felt so thick; but it was when the
sun was hottest.  I think I could show you the way, though."

"Oh, we can find the way, squire; you have written that down clearly
enough in the sand.  Tell us one thing more, though," said Griggs.
"What did you find--a rock spring or a pool?"

"A great lake that stretched out as far as we could see."

There was a faint cheer at this, and the boy smiled.

"But there are big 'gators in it."

"I don't care if there are crocodiles in it half-a-mile long," cried
Griggs.  "We're going to have our share.  Then it's beyond the salt
desert?"

"Oh yes.  Beautiful green country, with mountains and trees."

"Within half-a-day's journey," said the doctor.  "Then I think we may
give the poor beasts what water there is left."

"Yes, sir," said Griggs.  "I'll give 'em my share; but I never grudged
parting with it so much before in my life.  Shall I begin?"

"Yes, poor things; but they will not have much apiece even now."

Griggs laughed.

"No, sir," he said.  "Skeeter would get outside the whole half-barrel if
you gave him a chance, and then roll round the whites of his eyes and
ask for more."

By the time the water had been given to the beasts, all but a small
portion reserved for the two boys, it was dark, with the stars just
dimly-seen through the haze.  All was ready, and the mules and horses
stepped out briskly, the last drink having worked wonders; but probably
the wonderful instinct of the mules taught them that they were nearing
the end of their horribly toilsome journey.  Perhaps it is not too much
to say that by some subtle power of communication they had learned the
fact from those which had made the journey before.  Certainly our dumb
friends do communicate good and bad information to one another.

Neither Chris nor Ned seemed much the worse since they had had a light
meal, but sat their ponies well enough once more, while there was no
need for their guidance, for the mule which had borne the water-barrels,
unladen now, having been placed with the bell-bearer in front, started
off freely enough, and needed no guidance to keep it to the track.

Naturally enough the two boys rode that night knee to knee with the
doctor and Bourne, each giving and receiving a faithful account of their
proceedings, and the lads too learning exactly what had taken place on
the awakening at the camp, when, utterly worn out and suffering, not one
of the four felt in a fit condition to stir, Griggs, naturally the
strongest of the party and best able to cope with the arduous work,
being by far the worst.

But he was the first to recover upon the discovery being made that the
boys were gone.  In fact, he took note of everything during the first
few minutes, and was able to point out that they had taken with them a
mule bearing the two water-barrels, and also found and pointed out the
trail the two ponies and the mule had made in the parching sand.

No one felt fit to stir, and the beasts of burden seemed to be in worse
plight than their masters.

But the doctor insisted upon a start being made at once, following upon
the trail, and all expected to come before long upon the pair lying dead
from thirst and exhaustion at the end of the track.

"We never expected to see you alive again, Chris," said the doctor; "and
when we came upon you at last, just as we all felt that we could go no
farther, we stopped short, no one daring to approach, for we found you
lying just as we had pictured you.

"The expedition was to all of us quite at an end, and we approached you
at last to lie down by your sides and die, when Griggs saw something
that neither I nor Ned's father had noted."

"What was that, father?" asked Chris.

"That the mule's head was pointing in our direction, and that the trail
on ahead was blurred, showing that you had been somewhere and were on
the way back.  The next minute he was shouting frantically for us to
come on, and we did, having literally crawled up, to find you both alive
and the two casks full of that which saved our lives."

That night camp was made in the midst of plenty, and the sun rose in the
morning over the thick desert-heated air to shine upon the dazzling
waters of the lake and the rich forest-land spreading upward towards a
range of mountains of a vivid blue.

It seemed to be the land of plenty that they had reached, where
abundance of game awaited the rifle, fish in shoals were in the lake,
and, most attractive of all, away on the horizon, amidst the range of
mountains running to right and left, were peaks among any of which the
golden city of which they were in search might be waiting to be compared
with the unfortunate old prospector's map.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

OFF AGAIN.

A short halt of a day or two only was made by the lake at first, and
then an excursion which had been made successfully in search of game
having resulted in the discovery of a more suitable spot higher up
towards the mountains, a week was spent there in a beautiful little
valley, where an abundant stream of crystal purity emptied itself into
the wide-spreading lake.  Pasturage was there for the horses and mules,
and almost without effort food was to be had at the expense of a few
cartridges, while very little skill was needed for Griggs and the boys
to draw salmon-like and trout-like fish to the banks.

In a day or two the perils and sufferings of the journey across the salt
plains were forgotten, and careful searching for signs of Indians having
proved that they were the sole occupants of the district, the whole
party gave themselves up to the pleasures of the peaceful life they were
enjoying.  But not for long.

Griggs had entered into the spirit of the chase, the fishing and the
search for vegetable food.  He was as eager too when the doctor led
excursions into gully and up hill-sides of a part of the world that
seemed to the adventurers as if it had never before been trodden by the
foot of man, and ready to point out fresh flowers, or indications of
metal or other minerals where the cliff was bared or splintered by some
fall from above.  But over the camp-fire at night, in some rocky nook,
or beneath the spreading boughs of a gigantic spruce-fir, a hint or a
word or two brought him back to the prime motive of their journey.

"I'm ready when you are, gentlemen," he cried.  "I don't say this isn't
grand, and that we oughtn't to be as happy as the day is long in a place
like this, but we didn't come out here only to enjoy a hunting-party.
There's that map, you know."

"Yes," said the doctor gravely, "there's the map.  But you don't think
this is a likely part of the country?"

"Not down here, sir; but from where we stood to-day after stalking those
birds, I could see the mountains opening out in gulch and rift and
hollow, beyond which there was peak and point and pass that looked as
much like the sort of country as could be."

"I noted the grand scenery too," said the doctor.

"And I," added Wilton.  "It's made me long to begin exploring again, for
there was no sign of desert that I could see."

"It's a grand country," said Bourne, "and the wonder to me is that it
has not been settled.  Why do you laugh, boy?"

"Oh, it was only at something I thought, sir," said Chris.

"What was it?"

"That the salt plains were enough to keep anybody from coming as far as
this."

"That's it, my lad," said Griggs.  "Men may have come prospecting in
this direction for gold, but I shouldn't be a bit surprised to find that
this is only a patch of good land round and about these mountains, and
that if we went far enough in any direction we should come to the salt
plains again, shutting it in and keeping people back."

"It is possible," said the doctor.

"It's more than likely, sir.  If it were not so, wouldn't people have
settled here?"

"It is very far from civilisation, Griggs," said Bourne.

"Most new places are far from civilisation, sir," cried Griggs.  "But
look all round here, sir; if a good strong party of men came here with
their wives and children they'd make their own civilisation, for it
seems to me that we can find here already pretty well everything a man
could want.  See what it would be after a few years of farm-stock
rearing and gardening."

"Then why not stop and settle here?" said the doctor, smiling.

"Because we've got gold on the brain, sir," replied Griggs grimly.  "We
set ourselves to see if that poor old fellow's story was a fact, and
having started, I say let's carry out our work.  If we don't find out
that his map told the truth, I'm ready to come and open out this bit of
country, if you like, for it's ten times the place that we came from.
Even now if you say we'll go no further, I'll set to work with you; but
because it's so beautiful ought we to forget how we're cutting ourselves
off from the rest of the world?"

"No," said the doctor emphatically.  "I propose we make a fresh start
to-morrow farther up into the mountains, and see what there is yonder."

There was a murmur of agreement at this, in which the boys joined.

"Yes," said Chris, as he sauntered away soon after with his eyes roaming
in every direction in search of danger or something new.  "Griggs is
right.  It's as fine as fine here, and I don't like leaving the fishing;
but I am beginning to want a change, aren't you?"

"No going down-hill again to be roasted and choked with thirst."

"Of course not," said Chris; "we've had enough of that.  I want to do
some of that shooting Griggs was talking about last night."

"What, the goats up in the mountains?"

"Yes, and those big horned sheep; but I feel sure he was laughing at us
about their jumping about the precipices, and running along ledges full
gallop when they're only a few inches wide."

"Oh, I don't know; he hadn't got that queer cock of the eye that he has
when he's spinning a yarn."

"Well, no; but it was a good deal like throwing the hatchet.  Didn't you
see how serious your father looked?"

"Yes, but not so serious as your father did when Griggs declared that
he'd seen flocks of those sheep running away from people stalking them
till they got to the edges of the precipices where they could go no
farther; and then jump down head first so as to come on the great thick
twisted horns which cover their foreheads, and bounce up again, and go
on running along a lower part."

"Yes, I saw.  Why, a big, heavy sheep if he came down like that would
break his horns."

"Break his horns!" cried Ned.  "He'd break his neck."

"I should like to shoot one of those fellows," said Chris.

"Or be below when one of them jumped, came down on his head, and broke
his neck," said Ned.  "I say, mutton--neck of mutton--leg of mutton!
Wouldn't a good roast joint be a treat?"

"Oh, what a fellow you are for thinking about eating!" cried Chris
impatiently.

"And so are you for drinking," replied Ned.  "You're always on the
lookout for water."

"Well, we must drink a great deal in such a thirsty land."

"Yes, and we must eat a deal to keep up one's strength," said Ned.  "I
can't help getting hungry when we're walking about so much.  I suppose
it's because I'm growing fast."

"Yea, that's it," said Chris, smiling.  "I get very hungry too.  It's
all right; I won't laugh at you any more.  I say, what lots of those
little gophers there are here.  Look there; why, there must be about a
hundred up on that patch of sandy ground.  Watching us to see if we're
coming, and ready to pop into their holes."

"I see them.  There's one of those little round tots of owls sitting
there too just outside the burrow.  It's quite comic to see the gophers
living so sociably with the little owls."

Chris gave a shout just then, and the colony of little burrowing animals
resembling the marmots of the Alps disappeared into their holes with an
accompaniment of angry warning whistles, just as a huge eagle came
sailing along overhead, swooping so near that a good marksman could
easily have brought it down.

"Seems a pity to go away from a place where there's so much to see,"
said Chris, after a time.  "And what for?  To find gold.  Well, it's
only yellow metal.  We might stay here and find some."

"Or silver," said Ned.

"Yes, or lead, or antimony."

"Or coal," cried Ned.

"Ah, that would be useful for making our cooking fire," said Chris.
"But there's plenty of wood everywhere, and I won't complain.  I want to
go on and see more.  Every place we come to seems more wonderful than
the last, and there's no knowing what we may find next."

"We shall see," said Ned, yawning, for the darkness was sweeping up the
sides of the hills, leaving the hollows black, and they had had a long
and tiring day.  "I suppose we shall start, then, to-morrow."

"For a certainty.  I wonder what our next camping-place may be like."

"That ruined city described by the old prospector, perhaps," said Ned,
laughing.  "But what are we going to do then--load the mules with gold,
and go back again?"

"I hope not," cried Chris.  "I don't want to go back.  Why, we haven't
shot a buffalo yet."

"So much the better for the buffalo," said Ned, yawning again.

"I say, don't do that," cried Chris querulously.

"I wasn't doing anything."

"Yes, you were; opening your mouth as wide as you could, just like old
Skeeter when he's getting ready to bray."

"Whinny," said Ned correctively.  "He isn't a donkey."

"I know that.  He can't bray.  He whinnies and squeals; but he tries to
bray, and opens his mouth just like you do."

"Perhaps so," said Ned, changing the conversation at once.  "I say,
doesn't that peak look beautiful?  It's just as if it is red-hot."

"You'd find it pretty cold if you were up there," said Chris, giving up
making rude allusions to his companion's yawning.

"Yes; that always seems to me so strange," said Ned.

"What does?"

"That the nearer you get up to the sun the colder it is.  It ought to be
hotter."

"Don't find fault with nature," said Chris dogmatically.  "I wasn't
finding fault.  I only say it seems queer.  I want to thoroughly
understand why it is."

"Ask your father, he knows."

"I did," said Ned, "and he said it was because the atmosphere was
thinner, the higher you get."

"Then the lower you get I suppose the thicker it is," said Chris
thoughtfully, "and that's why it's so thick and hot down there on the
salt desert.  Oh, my word, how it used to scorch!  It was just as if the
haze was one great burning-glass."

"Oh, I say," cried Ned dolefully, "I wish you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Talk about the heat on the salt plains.  We're going to start off
afresh to-morrow morning, and I shall begin dreaming about what we went
through over yonder."

"Poor old chap!"

"Ah, you may laugh, but it'll all come back like a nightmare, with the
burning thirst and giddiness, and the black spots before one's eyes."

"That's biliousness," said Chris, speaking authoritatively, like a
doctor's son.

"I don't care what it is.  It's very horrible," said Ned, "and if I
thought we were going through a time like that again I should want to
stop at home."

"Where's that?" said Chris dryly.

"Ah, to be sure," said Ned, with a sigh.  "I forgot where we were.  I
suppose there'll be no home again till we've found the gold."

"And that won't be to-night," said Chris, as a shrill whistle rang out
through the clear evening air.  "There's old Griggs calling us just as
if we were dogs.  I've a good mind not to hear."

But Chris answered the whistle all the same, and the boys were soon
after joined by the American, who had come to meet them, and his first
words were--

"Now, boys, bed and a good long sleep.  We're off again at daybreak."



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

PETRA THE SECOND.

Daybreak came all too soon for Chris, who sprang up rubbing his eyes and
yawning, in response to a summons from Griggs, who stood over the boy
like a black figure cut out of cardboard showing against a ruddy glow.

"Why--oh bother!  It can't be time," cried the boy.

"Yes, it is, and we're late."

"So we are.  You said daylight, and the sun's rising."

"Is it?" said Griggs.  "Then it's before its time.  There, unbutton your
eyelids and look again.  The sun doesn't crackle and spit when it gets
over the world's edge."

"Humph!" grunted Chris, as he realised the truth that a roaring fire of
pinewood was burning in a sheltered spot.  "Have you woke Ned?"

"Yes, and he's growling for his breakfast.  Going to have a sluice
first?  You'll just have time."

Griggs went back to see after the breakfast, and Chris turned to where
Ned had lain down on a fragrant pine-bough couch.

"Here, look sharp," he said.  "I suppose we must have a dose of cold
water."

Ned grunted and seemed as ill-humoured as his companion at being
awakened from sleep, and the pair hurried through the gloom to the side
of the gully, where there was a soft, splashing roar caused by water
falling like so much foam from a ledge about a hundred feet above their
heads into a rock-pool at their feet.

The boys' preparations did not take long, neither did the application of
their bath.  Chris stepped into the rock-pool, took a couple of paces,
and stood right in the middle of the descending broken water, uttered a
gasp or two, stepped out, and began to apply a rough home-made towel
with tremendous energy.

"Is it cold?" said Ned, with a preliminary shiver.

"Ugh!  Horrid!" was the smothered reply.

The words seemed to check Ned, but the shock had to be suffered, and he
too stepped into the natural shower-bath, and sprang out again, to
follow his companion's example.

"Feel sleepy now?" cried Chris, with a laugh, and in quite a different
tone of voice.

"Sleepy?  Who could?" was the reply, punctuated with gasps.  "My!  Isn't
it icy this morning!"

"Yes.  Washed all the snarl out of you, old chap," cried Chris merrily.
"I say, you did sound disagreeable."

"Oh, I like that!" said Ned.  "Why, a bear with a sore head was nothing
to you."

"Humph!" grunted Chris, feeling too guilty to defend himself.  "I say,
feel cold now?"

"No; burning hot," was the reply.  "I say, what a pity there are not
falls like this all over the salt desert."

"There'd be no salt desert if there were," said Chris, who was now
dressing rapidly in the increasing light.  "They'd soon wash all the
salt away.  Look sharp: old Griggs will be shouting directly."

The word "Breakfast!" came almost as he spoke, and as the boys hurried
towards the fire, fully alert now and ready for anything, they saw that
the mules were all laden but the one which carried the kitchen, as they
called it, and this beast was feasting in company with the ponies.

"Oh, I say, father, it isn't fair," cried Chris, in response to the
morning greeting.  "You know I like to help load."

"Yes, my boy, but we woke earlier than usual, and I wanted you two to
have a good rest, for we shall have a long day."

Ned was making a similar protest to his father, who responded by telling
him that he would be tired enough before night.

The words proved to be quite true, for they had a long, long journey
through rugged valley, up steep mountain side, down precipitous gulch,
and across many a roaring torrent, one of which necessitated the use of
knotted-together ropes to ensure that the mules with their loads were
not swept away.

For in spite of the descents they were gradually ascending into a higher
mountainous region which grew more and more grand, while,
notwithstanding the fierce heat of the sun, fatigue seemed non-existent,
as the party drank in the strong, invigorating air.

The ideas that had been suggested about this part of the country being
island-like, rising out of a vast sea of salt desert, were proved to be
correct, for during quite a fortnight's journeyings here and there they
obtained glimpses in the far distance of the glistening plains over
which hung the cloud-like haze of heat.

But whenever after scaling some height their approach towards the
boundaries of the island was revealed, the doctor called a halt, and
after a discussion with Griggs they struck off in a fresh direction
through what proved to be a perfect wonderland of mountain gorge and
forest, the home of wild animals and birds, every valley and plain
furnishing supplies, while the want of water was never once felt.

"Why, we must have pretty well explored this part of the country," said
Wilton, one evening, as they sat resting and watching the sun-glow dying
out amongst the peaks.

"A little bit of it, sir," said Griggs dryly; "just to show us how we
might spend a year or two."

"What!" cried Wilton with a mocking laugh.  "If we started west
to-morrow in a couple of good marches we should be right out on the salt
plains again."

"Perhaps so; but this Amurrica's a bigger place than you think for, sir.
We're going south-west to-morrow, aren't we, doctor, so as to get a
lookout from that double-topped mountain where the tongue of desert came
right in?"

"Yes; that is what I proposed," said the doctor.  "He is quite right,
Wilton.  We have seen only a little of one of the grandest parts of the
country I have been in."

"Like some of the Rockies, sir," cried Griggs enthusiastically.  "I
guess that Mr Wilton will alter his opinion as we go on."

"Perhaps," said Wilton good-humouredly.  "I don't mind.  It is, as you
folks say, very grand."

"Grander than you think, sir," said Griggs.  "I went higher than the
doctor yesterday, and I think we're going to have a surprise to-morrow."

The surprise did not come that next day as Griggs had prophesied, but
two days later, when after an arduous struggle through a wild ravine,
with the perpendicular cliffs rising to such a height on either side
that the bottom was in twilight at mid-day, they took advantage of a
fall of water to halt and refresh their ponies and mules, letting them
drink their fill and then begin cropping the rich grass growing near,
while wallets were opened and the tired party lay about partaking with
excellent appetite of the provisions they had brought with them.

"This is about the wildest place we've been in yet, father," said Chris,
as he looked up at the mighty cliffs by which they were enclosed.

The doctor nodded, but Wilton, who heard the remark, made reply.

"Yes," he said; "I shouldn't care about being here in a storm.  I should
expect to have the rocks loosened by every peal of thunder, and come
tumbling down upon our heads."

"A frightful gorge," said Bourne; "but we seem to have come to the end.
It closes in yonder.  A regular blind lead."

"Just the sort of place where we ought to search for minerals," said the
doctor.

"Why don't you come and lie down for a rest, Griggs?" cried Ned, for the
American, after hurrying through his lunch, had gone forward a hundred
yards or so to begin climbing up from ledge to ledge, pausing to look
round from time to time.

He heard Ned's question, which came to his ears like a strange whisper,
and then again louder as if it was reflected from the rock-face on his
left; but he only waved his hand by way of reply and went on climbing
higher.

"If he were not as active as a goat," said the doctor, "I should feel
nervous and expect to see him fall."

"Yes, it is very risky," said Bourne thoughtfully, "and, though we have
you with us, a broken limb would not add to the comfort of our journey."

"Oh, Griggs won't fall," said Chris decisively.  "He's going up there to
see where the spring comes from."

"No," said the doctor.  "He is climbing up beside the fall because the
water has worn the gully into rough steps and formed a staircase by
which we might get out of this gorge and perhaps find ourselves in
another perhaps wilder valley.  What's he doing now?"

"Chipping at the stones by the water-side to see if there's any gold,"
said Ned, who was watching their companion attentively.  "But he hasn't
found any, for he's going on."

This was the case, and at last they saw him come to a stand as if
unwilling, or unable, to go any farther.

"Quite a blind lead there," said the doctor.

"You wouldn't attempt to take the mules up there, would you," said
Wilton, "even if he said it was passable?"

"No, it would be folly; too much risk.  We'll go back soon, and try some
other way."

"Here he comes back," said Chris, as he saw the American turn and begin
to descend by another way, leaving the rushing torrent above him and
following the sharp descent into the bottom of the gorge, along which he
made his way till he was level with and joined them.

"Find the door locked?" said Wilton, laughing.

"No," was the reply, as the American stretched himself on the grass.

"No?  You couldn't have got along that way any further, could you?" said
the doctor.

"Oh yes; the place seems to come to a blank end from here, but from up
yonder you can see that it doubles back round a sharp corner to the
left."

"But the mules couldn't get by?"

"Oh yes; it looks narrow, but not so strait as that.  We can ride
along."

"Indeed?" cried Bourne, while the boys listened eagerly.

"I half thought we should have to go back, but it's all right.  This
place only zigzags a bit, and we can get through into the next valley
when the beasts have had their feed.  It's much better to go forward
than journey back."

"Did you find anything when you were chipping up there?" said Ned.

"Yes," replied the American coolly; "there's gold in the rock up yonder
by the water, and I found this in one little hole."

He took a scrap of yellow metal from his pocket, and held it out to the
doctor.

"A nugget of gold," said that gentleman, "very much worn by the water."

"And the stones," said Griggs sharply; "and no wonder, for it was being
swept round and round.  One minute I could see it, the next it was gone;
but it was washed right into my hand at last.  I dare say we might wash
a good deal here."

"But you do not propose to stop?"

"No, sir; I've an idea that this is the most likely part we've come to
yet.  Let's get on.  We could come back then if we found nothing
better."

Griggs' remarks roused the interest of all present, and at the end of
half-an-hour, spent by the boys in washing the sand in a pool lower
down, where they found a few scales of the rich metal, the journey was
continued, Griggs leading, to where all further progress seemed
impossible, for they were compelled to halt by the apparent closing-in
of the gorge, which presented, in fact, an unclimbable precipice.  A few
steps farther there was a narrow rift extending from their feet to the
top of the cliff a couple of thousand feet above their heads, and
literally doubling back into this, they threaded their way along a
passage not twenty feet in width, which zigzagged here and there for
about a quarter of a mile deeper and deeper into the mountains, growing
more and more gloomy, and then all at once displaying the bright glow of
sunshine right in front, as if it came round an elbow of the way.  A few
minutes later Griggs led the party into a vast amphitheatre walled in by
towering walls that were on the whole perpendicular, but seamed with
rifts running up to natural terraces or breaks in the strata of which
the vast walls were composed.

The change from the gloom of the zigzag ravine along which they had made
their way, to the sunlit amphitheatre, was almost painful, and the party
stood in a group shading their eyes, gazing about in silence, till Chris
suddenly snatched off his hat, waved it in the air, and with a shout
startled the mules into the beginning of a stampede.

But this was nipped in the bud, and as soon as the animals were calmed
down, the boy cried excitedly--

"I didn't mean to do that.  But, I say, we've found the old city at
last."

"Nay," cried Griggs, shaking his head.  "This don't go on all fours with
our map."

"But it's a city," cried Ned eagerly.  "It's precious old; but look all
along there, and up yonder, and down that bit--everywhere, there are
houses with doorways and windows.  Why, there's quite one side of a
street along at the back of that shelf."

"Yes, boys; it's a city, sure enough," said the doctor almost as
excitedly as the lads.  "Why, Griggs, this must be one of the old
pueblas that the Spaniards talked about."

"Yes, sir, that's it, sure enough; a city cut out of the rock-faces of
this great shut-in place.  Why, it must have been a regular stronghold
where thousands of people lived, and we've hit upon the way in.  I
shouldn't wonder if there's no way out."

"Oh, there may be at the end yonder.  How far is it to where that great
rock-wall closes in?"

"Mile and a quarter, I should say," replied the American.

"Then at the widest part yonder it must be nearly half-a-mile across,"
cried Bourne.

"Hardly, sir; say quarter, and here and there not half that."

"But the cliffs seem about the same height," cried Chris, "just as if
they had been cut level."

"Nature cut them then," cried Griggs, laughing.  "Seems to me that it's
just one great fault in a bit of tableland."

"But how could it come so regular?" said Wilton thoughtfully.

"Who knows, sir?  Earthquake perhaps, or shrinking.  Anyhow, here it is,
regular rock city such as we've read about; and the old folks made it by
cutting away.  Chopped it out of the stone and by filling up and
securing the openings."

"But look at the terraces one above the other.  They must have built
those."

"Nay, squire; those regular lines are just how the rocks form in ledges
and cracks.  I s'pose, doctor, we shan't go any further to-day?"



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE WATER SEARCH.

"Certainly not," cried the doctor.  "We must explore this place.  But it
looks so fresh that most likely we shall find a tribe of Indians living
here still."

"Nay," said Griggs, shaking his head as his keen eyes wandered from
place to place along the vast opening.  "Indians who lived here must
have had horses for going about, and there isn't a sign of one anywhere.
Besides, if there had been any Indians we should have had some of them
showing.  The fighting men might be away, but there'd be their wives and
papooses skulking here and there."

"Yes; a city of the dead," said the doctor, sweeping the sides of the
amphitheatre with his glass.  "Not a sign of life but some marmot-like
animals yonder.  And, as far as I know, there are no Indians who build
or carve out such houses as these living now, except the puebla Indians.
Well, this is a discovery indeed.  We are bound to find some
interesting relics here if other travellers have not been beforehand
with us."

"Then we shall camp here for a day or two, father?" cried Chris eagerly.
"Let's ride on to the end, and see if there's a way out yonder."

"Yes, it will be as well," said the doctor, "and at the same time we can
select our camp.  But the first thing is to find water."

"If there is none we must go back to that torrent where the gold was
found."

"And make some excursions here," said Wilton.

"Must be water somewhere here, sir," said Griggs uneasily.  "There must
have been a strong tribe living here at some time--hundreds of 'em,
perhaps--and they couldn't live without drinking."

There was a desolate look about the newly-discovered city, but the
bottom between the vast walls was every here and there verdant with
grass and shrub, while the walls themselves were dotted with the growth
of ages.  Bushes were everywhere, while in every crack and cleft, trees
had taken root, some being of a pendent growth spreading graceful boughs
which waved in the soft wind that from time to time swept through the
great depression.

"Let's leave the mules to browse here," said the doctor; "there's enough
of this short bush to keep them together while we ride on and explore,
for I think we may make sure that we have the place to ourselves."

"I won't say yes to that yet, sir," said Griggs dryly; "not till we've
had a good look round.  And first thing I've got to say is, 'Ware
snakes."

"What!" cried the boys, in a breath.

"'Ware snakes, as aforesaid, neighbours," repeated the American.  "You
may depend upon it some of those gentlemen came creeping or tumbling
down from the flats above, found the premises convenient, and are living
with large families up in some of these houses."

These words had a strange effect upon the listeners.  It was as if all
the interest in the place had been crashed out; all desire to explore
the wonders of this old city of the past had died away on the instant.
As for the boys, their adventures in the desert came back, and clearly
standing out were the creeping and writhing poisonous reptiles whose
stroke meant a horrible death, lurking ready for them wherever they
turned: and a shudder ran through them as if they had just been swept by
some icy wind.

Then the doctor spoke.

"That's a horrible notion of yours, Griggs," he said; "but, after all,
it is only a guess: there may not be a reptile here."

"So much the better for us, sir," cried the American cheerily; "but all
the same I say it once more--'Ware snakes."

"Yes: you all have a shot-cartridge ready?" said the doctor.

"Yes," came back--one word, and everybody unslung his double piece.

"The mules," said the doctor then--"we must not have them bitten."

"They'll be pretty safe where they are grazing," said Griggs coolly.
"Rattlesnakes don't care for places like that.  It's in the stony sandy
bits where they can get the full heat of the sun that there is most
risk."

"Yes," said the doctor thoughtfully; "perhaps we might leave them as
they are."

"And pick our way slowly and carefully, doctor.  Shall I go first?"

"I don't like setting you always where there is most danger," replied
the doctor.

"None for me here," replied Griggs.  "It's my poor mustang who has to
run the risk; but I'll try and save him all I can."

"How?"

"Well, I've a sort of idea that I can manage it this way," replied the
American, re-slinging his rifle and taking out his strong keen-edged
hunting-knife, after dismounting and throwing his rein upon the ground
over his pony's head.  The sturdy little creature stood gazing at it, as
if full of the belief that the rein held it fast to a peg driven firmly
into the ground, and never attempting to move, while its master stepped
to a clump of young fir-trees, selecting a sapling about a dozen feet
high and cutting it off close to the ground.

This done, he proceeded quickly to lop off all the horizontal branches
close to the stem, clearing them quickly away all but the thick top,
where he left a tuft, and on finishing, had provided himself with a
rough lance whose green brush-like top furnished him with the weapon of
offence and defence with which he intended to protect his pony.

"What are you going to do?" asked Chris, who had been watching him
intently.

"You come next, and see," was the reply.  "Now, gentlemen, I'll lead;
please follow in single file."

Griggs sent his pony forward at a walk towards the far end of the
amphitheatre, holding the fir-pole well-balanced and low-down in front,
while, rising in his stirrups, he bent forward, lancer-like, keeping his
eyes fixed upon the ground before him, over which he guided his mount.
In this way he advanced, still keeping at a walk, avoiding every
dangerous-looking spot, keeping to the open, and wherever there was the
possibility of a lurking enemy being at hand the tuft at the point of
the pole was lowered to the ground and used as a beater to drive out any
reptile that might be there.

At the commencement the mustang seemed disposed to start and shy, but a
few soothing words calmed it, and as if divining the object in view, it
stepped out finally, only uttering a snort or two when the green head of
the spear was rustled about, the snorts sounding as if given to help
scare any danger away.

"Don't seem to be any, Griggs," said Chris.

"Not yet, my lad," was the reply.  "You see, I'm picking out the least
likely bits; but one never knows."

"There goes one," shouted Chris the next moment, and he raised his piece
to his shoulder.

"Don't fire; he's got well into cover," cried Griggs.  "It was a snake,
but I don't think it was a rattler, for he didn't talk with his tail."

"No; I didn't hear him rattle.  Why did you tell me not to fire?"

"Because you wouldn't have hit the brute, only wasted a cartridge."

There had been no check, and they rode slowly on and on till the end of
the depression had been reached, Griggs's plan resulting in starting off
altogether five dangerous-looking serpents from the spots where they lay
ready to scuttle in amongst the growth at the first movement of the
extemporised weapon--the last of the fleeing reptiles proving its
dangerous nature as it hurried away by giving off a harsh, dull,
rattling sound with its quivering tail.

A careful examination was made to the left without effect, and another
to the right, but everywhere they were faced by the precipitous wall of
cliff, carved-out and terraced, and here and there offering facilities
for climbing up more or less high, the stones from above having fallen
from the weakening and decay of time till a glacis-like slope had been
formed; but after the reptiles that had been started in the less likely
places, there was no present temptation for ascending the stony slopes,
bathed in the hot sunshine and looking thoroughly suited for the home of
the dangerous creatures.

This exploration of the lower part of the amphitheatre, ravine, or
depression tempted farther search, the party riding on, and after
examining cautiously the sides, visiting the upper portion near the
zigzag gorge by which they had entered; but only to find that there was
no other means of access to the city unless by a descent from the
tableland in which the place seemed to be formed.

"And snakes seem to be the only inhabitants," said Chris to his
companion.  "Why, Griggs, we can't stop here."

"Not unless we can find water," said the American.

"And not even then," replied the boy, "with the risk of getting bitten."

"If there are no more than we started we're not going to give up for
that," said Griggs coolly.  "Why, they're quite scarce."

"But we haven't been upward on those terraces.  They may be swarming
there," cried Chris.

"Yes, and there may be none.  We don't want to go up there to-day.  What
we want is water.  Now, where is it?"

"Nowhere, seemingly."

"Oh, that notion won't do," said the American.  "Here, it is plain
enough that once upon a time this was a big place with no end of people
living in it."

"Yes; so my father thought."

"Very well, then; I dare say it was just such a dry, hot place as it is
now, and they must have had water close at hand, or they wouldn't have
settled here."

"They got it out of the gully through which we came."

"No, that won't do," cried Griggs.  "This was the old people's
stronghold, where they could be safe and set all their enemies at
defiance.  Everything points to that.  Don't it?"

"I think so," said Chris grudgingly.

"Well, then, it isn't likely that they would depend on a fall of water
from which the first enemies who attacked them could cut them off and
leave them to die of thirst."

"I never thought of that," said Chris, as, separated now from the rest,
they allowed their ponies to pace slowly on, nibbling off such juicy
shoots as came in their way.

"It isn't likely," said Griggs.  "There must be water somewhere--a fine
fall that comes down from the plain up above, or they wouldn't have
chosen this spot."

"Perhaps there used to be one, and it has dried-up."

"Nay; the place is too green.  Water must come on the high ground
somewhere and find its way into this great hollow.  Anyhow, it's out of
sight, so it's underneath somewhere."

"Then we shan't find it."

"I don't know about that, my lad," replied the American, with a little
laugh.  "There's other senses besides seeing."

"Yes, smelling," said Chris, with a smile; "but we can't find it that
way."

"Don't you be in too great a hurry, my lad.  We're going to have another
good hunt round at the bottom of these great cliffs, and if that comes
to nothing we might try smelling."

"Ah!  Nothing but a dog would be any use there."

"In a hurry again, boy.  I'd back something else to find water before a
dog."

"A fish on dry land?"

"Tchah!  No.  What was it found the lake for us the other day?"

"The mule," cried Chris.

"Got it again," said Griggs, laughing.  "I don't say he would, but I
shouldn't at all wonder, if we brought old Skeeter round, as like as not
he'd smell out the place."

"Buried under some of these great stone slides that have come down?"

"To be sure, my lad.  Now, that's a likely place."

Griggs pointed to a huge gap in the cliff away to their right where the
carved-out openings running along behind a rough terrace a hundred feet
up the vast wall suddenly ceased as if broken off, and commenced again
at about the same height on the other side of the gap.

"Let's go and look, then," said Chris; "but it doesn't seem very likely,
for it's all one bank of piled-up stones."

"That have run down from up yonder like those avalanches we read about.
Mind how you come, for it's a snaky-looking bit.  Go on, old chap; I'll
sweep the way for you with my fir-pole."

Chris felt a creepy sensation at the allusion to snakes, and his eyes
looked very wide open as he followed close behind his companion, whose
pony picked its steps with the greatest caution, the way growing more
and more encumbered with stones as they neared the slope which filled up
the gap.

"It looks as if there had been an earthquake.  What a roar there must
have been when these stones came tumbling down!"

"More likely that water had been coming down in a regular stream for
hundreds and hundreds of years till all the earth and small stones had
been washed away and made a great hollow underneath which held up the
cliff as long as it could, and then gave way all at once."

"You're talking as if a torrent ran down from the top of the cliff
yonder."

"Jusso," said Griggs.

"Then where did it go to?" said Chris.

"That's what we've got to find out.  Got a hole of its own underground,
perhaps, and dives down, to come up again miles away, perhaps, and--
Water it is!"

"Where?" cried Chris excitedly, and he threw up his head, his nostrils
expanded, and he sniffed loudly.

Griggs threw up his head too, but he did not open his nostrils and sniff
loudly.  He only laughed.

"More ways of killing a cat than hanging it," he cried merrily.  "Other
ways besides seeing and smelling.  Hark!"

They had pushed their way in among the outer blocks that had bounded
farthest, and their ponies had halted at the bottom of the slope because
they could go no farther without attempting to climb.

"Hark?  What to--what at?  I can't hear anything.  Yes, I can," cried
the boy excitedly.  "It's a singing, gurgling noise.  Why, Griggs,
you're right.  There's water running down below here."

"Well done, hearing!" cried Griggs.  "I'll be bound to say there's a big
natural tunnel down below here.  One minute.  Let's try a bit more to
the right."

They dismounted, and Griggs led the way, brushing the rocks about with
his pole as he climbed up and up, listening the while, for about sixty
or seventy yards, and then he stopped short, picked up a stone about as
big as his head, and pitched it away forward.

There was silence for a few moments, and then, just as Chris climbed up
alongside and found himself on the edge of a deep chasm going down into
gloom, he heard a hollow, echoing splash.

"Sounds like water," said Griggs coolly, "and plenty of it."

"Yes," cried Chris, as he listened.  "Why, I heard that dull, rumbling
sound before," he continued, as he bent over, "but it seemed to come
from high up in the cliffs, and I thought it was the wind."

"So did I," said Griggs.  "I suppose the sound comes up and strikes
against the rock-face, to be reflected off to where we could hear it
down below."

"Would it be?"

"To be sure, my lad.  Sound's just like light in that.  It strikes
against anything and goes off, they say, at the same angle, and then
perhaps it's only in one position that you can see it.  Same here:
there's one part down below where we can catch this rumbling, hissing
echo."

"But you don't call that finding water?  What a horrible place!  How are
we to get at it?"

"Oh, easily enough," said Griggs coolly.  "You'll have to go down with
all the bottles and fill them."

"What!  Down there?"

"Yes.  Shouldn't you like the job?"

"Of course not."

"Well, then, I must," said Griggs, laughing.

"No, that wouldn't be fair."

"Never mind; we'll argue that out afterwards," said Griggs merrily.
"Anyhow, we've found what we wanted."

Clapping his hands to the sides of his mouth, he shouted "Water!" and
the rest of the party began to move towards them, delighted with the
news.

"Any snakes about?" cried the doctor, as they reached the foot of the
slope.

"Haven't seen any up here," was the reply; and the party climbed up to
stand at the edge of the great pit-like place, gazing down and listening
to the hollow, echoing roar of what was evidently a large body of water.

"Well done!" cried the doctor.  "Why, there must be quite a tunnel below
here."

"I think not, sir; it's only a narrow path in the side of the place,
partly filled up with the big stones fallen from above; but there's
evidently a great well-like place going right down ever so deep to flow
underground."

"But how are we to get at the water now we have found it?" said Wilton.
"I for one am not going down there."

"It ought to be some one light and active, not a big, strong man," said
Griggs dryly.  "P'r'aps Mr Ned here wouldn't mind."

Ned's face underwent such a change, becoming contracted in so absurd a
manner, that Chris burst into a roar of laughter and began to stamp
about.

"Oh yes, it's very funny," cried Ned, in an ill-used tone.  "Perhaps
Chris would like the job."

"Not I," cried the boy.  "Nobody could go down there."

"I'm afraid not," said the doctor, peering down and listening to the
deep, hollow roar.  "Then we've had all our trouble for nothing."

"Oh no, sir," said Griggs; "the hole doesn't go straight down.  We're
all thirsty, and it would be a long job to go all the way back to that
fall.  We'd better give the animals what we have in the tubs, and I'll
go down with one and fill it again."

"No, no; we must go back."

"Before we've explored this place, sir?  Why, as likely as not we shall
find it is another gold city when we come to search.  I'll go down."

"It is too risky, man.  Suppose you slipped?"

"Ah, that would be awkward; and you'd have to go miles away to look for
the hole where I came out," said Griggs, laughing; "but I'm not going to
run any risks of that sort.  I've too much liking for old Griggs, as
young Chris here calls me.  Oh, it's easy enough, sir.  I'll take down
one of the barrels with some of the lariats knotted together and one end
made fast round my chest.  Then if I slip you can haul me up."

"I hardly like letting you go," said the doctor, speaking dubiously.

"It'll be easy enough," said the American coolly.  "I'll do it."

They went back to where the mules were grazing, distributed the contents
of one barrel amongst them, and then brought the empty vessel up to the
edge of the gap, where Griggs set busily to work knotting the hide-ropes
they had with them tightly together, after which a bundle of dry
pine-boughs was lit, after being bound together with a bit of chain
attached to the end of the lariats.

The wood was soon blazing brightly, and it was then lowered down, to
keep on touching at the side of what proved to be a sharp slope, but
only to be shaken clear again and go on lighting up the sloping,
cave-like place, till as the watchers peered down they suddenly caught
sight of the reflection of the ruddy, smoky light, and upon the blazing
faggot descending another few feet after lodging once more, they could
see the rushing water tearing along, to pass right beneath where the
observers stood.

By this time the faggot was burning rapidly away, and fiery brands began
to drop, to fall with a hiss into the underground torrent, some to
become extinct on the moment, while others glided out of sight on the
surface, giving a good idea of the extent of the place.

"There," said Griggs coolly, "it's all right, you see, sir.  We'll have
two ropes, one for the barrels and one for a life-line.  I shall take
one of the lanthorns down with me.  Say, young Chris, I hope we shan't
have made the water taste of burnt wood and turpentine."

"There's no fear of that," said the doctor; "all that water will be far
away before you reach the surface.  Are you making those knots sure?"

"You may trust me, sir," said Griggs, coolly enough.  "Why, what a fuss
we're making about going twenty feet down at the end of a rope.  I
believe I could creep down those stones easy enough without.  May as
well have a line round me, though, I suppose."

"You'll not go down without," said the doctor decisively.

The preparations did not take long, "only long enough to make us more
thirsty," Griggs said; and then of the two lines made ready, one was
attached to the barrel carefully and well, the other made fast about the
American's chest.

"I don't like for him to go down," said Chris, aside, to his companion.

"I don't either," replied Ned.

"It seems so unfair when I'm so much lighter," continued Chris
excitedly, "and as if I ought to go."  Then on the impulse of the
moment, "Here, father, I'll go down instead."

"Shame!" cried Griggs merrily.  "Do you want to rob a poor fellow of
having the first drink?  No, thank you; this is my job, and I won't give
it up to any one.  Now then, we're all ready, I think."

"What about the lanthorn?" cried Bourne.

"I won't have it, thank you, sir," said Griggs.  "It'll only be in the
way, and I shan't want it.  Looks dark down there, but it'll be light
enough when I get below for all that I've got to do."

"But it looks horribly dark," whispered Chris, who stood close to
Griggs.

"Yes, from here, because you are looking into a dark hole.  When I am
down there I shall be able to look up here at the sunshine."

"Light the lanthorn, boys, and tie it to the end of a couple of the
ropes.  We have plenty, have we not?"

"Oh yes, plenty," said Wilton, and in a very short time the light was
ready in case of an emergency.

"Now then," said Griggs; "I dare say I shall be able to climb up again
after I have done, but if I can't I suppose two will be strong enough to
haul me up."

"We can have three if necessary," said Bourne excitedly, for he looked
the most nervous of any one present.

"Lower down the barrel, then, my lads.  You can do that," said Griggs.
"Just let it touch the water.  You'll know when it does, for there will
be a tug to sweep it away; but don't let it go.  Haul it up a few feet
then, and be ready to lower it again when I shout."

"Yes," was the reply, in a husky whisper, and directly after the barrel
was following the course previously taken by the burning faggot, but
without catching, its shape allowing it to pass down the steep slope,
till the expected jerk was given as it kissed the water, when it was
snatched back out of the current's reach.

"That's all right, then," said Griggs cheerily.  "Now, look here, I
shall want you to lower it again so that I can press the bung-hole under
water.  Most likely I shall have to do this with my foot, because my
hands will be wanted for holding on.  You understand?"

"Oh yes, we see," cried Chris.

"Then down I go," said Griggs.

"Stop!" cried the doctor, and his companions drew a deep breath which
sounded as if they were greatly relieved.

"What's the matter?  Knots loose?"

"No, but I don't see that it is necessary for you to go down.  We'll let
the barrel go into the water, and it will fill itself."

"Not it," said Griggs.  "It will only be battered to pieces against the
rocks there."

"I don't know," said the doctor.  "We'll try.  I don't think we ought to
let you go down save as a last resource."

"Very well, then," cried Griggs.  "Suppose you try."

The doctor had already joined the boys at the rope and helped to lower
the barrel down to the surface once again, to be, as it were, literally
seized by the current; and as those above held on there was a strange,
hollow, echoing noise as it was banged from side to side for a minute or
two, before Griggs cried--

"That'll do.  If there's much more of that all the hoops will be torn
off.  Haul up a bit.  You see I must go, sir."

The barrel was raised a little once more, and as soon as this was done
Griggs turned to Wilton and Bourne, who held the rope fastened about his
breast.

"Ready?" he said.

"Yes," was the reply.

"Keep it just tight enough to feel me, but not enough to hinder me as I
get down from stone to stone.  I don't mean to if I can help it, but be
prepared for a slip."

The next minute they could see their companion descending from block to
block, his form growing fainter each few seconds, during which he made
no strain upon the rope, which was steadily drawn through the holders'
hands, the doctor having stepped behind the others to form a third,
while Chris and Ned lay down upon their chests so as to watch the brave
fellow's descent.

"All easy going," said Griggs, his voice coming up out of the gloom, and
sounding hollow and strange.

The rope glided down, and a strange, harsh, rasping sound was made as
the adventurer lowered himself from stone to stone till he must have
been half-way down, when all at once there was a violent tug at the
rope, a crash as of something giving way, and directly after a deep,
echoing roar as of a heavy body plunging into deep water far below.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE OLDEN FOLK.

"Pull, pull, pull!" cried Chris wildly.

"No, no!" came from below.  "I'm all right.  Only a big stone I
loosened.  Wait a moment, and then let me go on."

Chris uttered a hoarse gasp, and turned faint, while Ned felt the
hide-rope attached to the barrel turn wet and slippery in his hands.

"Go on!  Gently!" cried Griggs, and the rope was once more allowed to
glide steadily down; the rasping of boots on the blocks of stone below
continued, and at the end of another minute ceased as Griggs shouted
up--

"There, I'm all right--standing on a big block with the water rushing
along about a foot below me.  Keep tight hold now.  You, boys, ease down
the barrel till I shout.  Don't let it go when the water grabs it.
Lower away.  Right!  I have it; now ease a little more and a little
more.  Now keep tight; I'm going to force it under water."

It seemed to Chris that he could see everything quite plainly as their
hands which held the hide-ropes were drawn lower and lower.

"That's right," came up in Griggs' hoarse, echoing voice, which sounded
as if he were panting from the way in which he was exerting himself; and
then with the barrel rope jerking violently, the boys felt a peculiar
thrill and a sensation as if the weight was increasing for what seemed,
though only a few minutes, a terribly long time.

"All right!" at last.  "She's full.  Now, then, haul up.  I'm safe here,
on good standing-ground.  Two hold my rope.  Up with the barrel."

Those at the surface needed no second order, but began to haul away,
Chris's hands now growing wet as a horrible thought made him more
nervous; and that thought was, What would be the consequence if the rope
broke or the barrel slipped from its fastenings?

He shuddered again and again at the idea, as with Bourne now helping,
the barrel was drawn higher and higher, and then all at once was checked
by catching against some projection.

"Lower it a little," whispered Chris huskily, and the weight was allowed
to descend a few inches, being in the gloom as it went down.

"Up now," cried Chris again, and the next moments were exciting in the
extreme, as he anticipated another check when the projection was
reached.  But Chris's gasp turned into a faint hurrah as the barrel
hoops scraped over the projection, and it came up now hand over hand
till it reached the surface and was drawn right away to stand amongst
the loose stones.

"Got it?" came from below.

"Yes," cried the doctor.  "All right.  Can you climb up?"

There was no answer for some seconds, and then the American said, in a
peculiarly husky voice--

"Coming up.  Haul steady."

Three pairs of hands were at the rope now, and their owners exchanged
glances as they kept up a steady strain, feeling that Griggs was trying
to climb, but jerking the line again and again as if his efforts
resulted in a series of slips.  After the last the adventurer's efforts
seemed to be so feeble that the haulers kept on steadily gathering in
the rope hand over hand, till Griggs' hands came within reach, when
Chris and Ned each seized one to give the final tug which drew him over
the edge of the hole and right away to a level spot, where he sank down,
apparently quite exhausted, and with a peculiarly strained look about
his eyes.

"Feel overdone?" said the doctor.

"A little, sir," was the faint reply.  "Can you give me a drop of the
water?"

This was quickly obtained, and the poor fellow swallowed it with
difficulty, and then seemed to revive a little, while the doctor, who
looked anxious, held one of his hands.

"Better now," panted Griggs.  "That's beautiful water, cold and sweet;
but I should have to be very bad before I dared go down to get any more.
I didn't know I was such a cur."

"I felt that it was too much for a man to do, Griggs," said the doctor
quietly.

"So did I, sir," was the feeble reply; "but it had to be done, and I
thought I could make a better finish out of the job.  I say, nice
example to set you two lads.  It has made me feel as weak as a rat.
Ugh!  It was very horrid when that stone gave way.  I thought I was
gone."

"It was horrible!" said the doctor.  "There, you succeeded; now don't
think any more about it."

"Can't help it, sir.  I feel as if I must.  I say, I hope that the
people who lived here didn't all disappear down that hole and never come
up again."

"It has quite unnerved you, Griggs," said the doctor kindly.

"I don't know about that, sir, but it has made me feel that I daren't go
down that place again, even if it was to save my life.  There, I'm sorry
I made such an exhibition of myself.  I did try to be plucky; but that
place below there, with the water trying to sweep you off into the black
darkness and the end, was too much for me.  I believe I nearly lost my
senses once.  Well," he cried, half-fiercely, after a short pause,
during which he looked keenly at first one and then the other of the
boys, "you've both got the laugh of me this time.  Did you ever see such
a coward before?"

"Come along down below there, and see about a fire and a meal," said the
doctor quietly.  "Let it go now, Griggs.  You didn't feel more nervous
than I did.  I was worse, I believe, for I felt guilty as well for
letting you go down.  There, I don't think we shall want to get our
water from that place again."

"Why not?" said Ned suddenly.  "We could get some up with a bucket if
there was a heavy stone in the bottom.  It would only mean
half-a-bucketful at a time, but there's no reason why we couldn't do
that."

Every one glared at the speaker as if wroth with him for proposing so
simple and self-evident a means of getting at the water at a time when
they had only succeeded at the risk of losing a valuable life.

But no one spoke, all preparing to descend the slope, at the bottom of
which the barrel was slung and carried between Wilton and Bourne to the
spot chosen for their camp.  Here a good fire was soon made, dead wood
being plentiful, and over the evening meal, hastily prepared, the
incident of the afternoon was gravely discussed, Griggs joining in
calmly enough now, for he seemed to have quite recovered his nerve.

"You'll have a good examination made of this place in the morning, sir?"
he said.

"I was thinking of moving off," said the doctor quietly, "and getting to
somewhere better suited for a temporary camp."

"You couldn't get a better place than this, doctor," said Griggs
quietly.  "I've been thinking over what young Ned here said about
dipping out water, and he's quite right.  Don't think of going until the
place has been thoroughly searched.  I'm quite right now."

"Very well," said the doctor; "we'll have another day, at all events;
but I do not anticipate making much of a find here."

"I don't know, sir," said Griggs gravely.  "We're getting into the gold
country now, and such a place as this wouldn't have been made for
nothing, nor be the living camp of a few poor wandering Indians.  I
shouldn't be a bit surprised to find traces of mining with furnaces and
crucibles for melting the gold somewhere through these openings.  They
were evidently a big race of people who lived up here."

"We shall find that out to-morrow," said the doctor.  "But what about
keeping watch?  Do you think there is any danger of Indians tracing us
here?"

"Not a bit, sir," replied the American.  "They don't care much for these
rocky parts; they like the plains, where their horses feel at home."

"But there must have been a big tribe here."

"No, sir; not of Indians such as rove the plains.  These must have been
a different kind of people--miners and builders.  Your regular Red
Indian thinks of nothing but his horse, his hunting, and a fight with
his enemies so as to get plunder.  The people who mined for gold were a
different kind of folk altogether."

"Well, we shall see to-morrow," said the doctor; "there are sure to be
some traces of them in their old homes."

"I don't care what they were or what they did," said Chris that night,
as they laid down to sleep in the dark bottom of the depression, gazing
up at the great lustrous stars; "but I don't want any more water got
like that.  Ugh!  It almost had a nasty taste when it was made into tea.
Didn't you notice it?" he said, after a pause; but there was no reply.
"I say, didn't you notice that the water seemed to taste nasty?" said
Chris, a little louder; but still there was no reply.

"Oh, what a fellow you are!" cried the boy impatiently.  "Such a one as
you are for eating and noticing everything, I should have thought you'd
have had something to say about it.  Asleep again!  Why, I couldn't
sleep after what we've gone through to-day, even if I tried."

That was Chris's opinion, but he evidently could sleep without trying,
for the next minute he was breathing heavily, and without a single
troublous dream born of the perils of the day.



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

IN THE STONE AGE.

The experiment was tried next day.  A bucket, loaded with stones heavy
enough to sink it, was lowered down the black-looking pit, and was drawn
up again nearly full of water.  This was given to the nearest grazing
animals, and the bucket sent down again, to catch against some
projecting block and tilt out the ballast, after which it refused to
sink, but made a jerk or two to escape, and then had to be drawn out.

Fresh stones were put in the bottom, and again were tilted out, but the
result of another trial from a little different spot resulted in the
vessel's coming up full.

More trying resulted in the adventurers finding that they could depend
upon obtaining about five bucketfuls out of a dozen trials, and with
this they were content.

An attempt to reach the first terrace was now made, and this did not
prove to be so difficult as it appeared from below, Chris finding a spot
where the rock-face was a good deal broken away and proposing to try and
climb it.

The doctor hesitated.

"What about the snakes?" he said.

Chris started, looked up, and then looked down, to see that Ned's eyes
were fixed upon him, and he turned red.

"A snake couldn't climb up there!" he said sharply.

"No," said his father, "I should doubt whether one could; but there is
every probability that one or many might have come down from above."

"Bother!" exclaimed the boy, and he hesitated for a few moments before
saying, "If one did fall, or come creeping down one of those great
cracks, perhaps, it wouldn't stop there.  Snakes want something to eat,
and there doesn't seem to be anything to live on up there.  Wouldn't it
come down lower, after all?"

"Possibly," said the doctor, laughing.  "You want to venture?"

"Yes, father."

"Very well, go.  But take a good stick with you--say such a piece of
sapling as Griggs carried, only much shorter, and use it well as you
go."

Chris nodded, and without asking the American, hurried off to cut such a
piece as he required, ending by trimming it well and leaving quite a
small bush-like tuft of green at the end.

"You mean to go, then?" said Ned quietly.

"Yes.  Will you come with me?"

"No," said Ned, wincing.  "I hate snakes."

"Not half so much as I do."

"Yes, I will.  I'll come too."

"Like to go first?" asked Chris mischievously.

"N-yes, give me the stick.  I can climb up there as easily as you can.
Well, why don't you give me the stic