Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Great American Desert Part 19

"I know I am. It's a lake, a lake full of beautiful blue water!"

cried Emma. "Quick! Shoot to let the others know."

Instead of the agreed-upon single shot as the signal that water had been found, Hippy Wingate emptied his revolver into the air, then, urging on his weary pony, rode on ahead, with Emma following, shouting and urging her pony to go faster that she and Hippy might reach the precious water ahead of the others. Even Hippy was excited at the sight that had burst so unexpectedly on his smarting eyes, for there, a mile or so ahead, surely was a body of water that the guide himself had not known of or he surely would have told them.

Attracted by the shots, Hi Lang looked, first in the direction from which the shots had come, then off across the desert. What he saw led him to head towards Hippy and Emma, who themselves were traveling as fast as they could make their ponies go.

Some of the other Overland Riders had followed Emma and Hippy, they too having discovered the blue lake in the near distance.

The guide fired into the air, to recall the excited riders, but they gave no heed to his signal.

"Stop!" he shouted when near enough to make himself heard. "Stop, I say! You'll run your ponies to death."

"Water! Don't you see it?" cried Emma.

"No! That isn't water. Stop, I say!"

"The heat has gone to Hi's head," laughingly confided Hippy to Emma. "All right, old man, just trail along behind us and we'll show you," he flung back.

"Stop, Lieutenant! Listen to reason, won't you? What you see is a desert mirage. There isn't a lake within a hundred miles of us."

Hippy Wingate brought his pony to a slow stop, and Emma, who had heard, stopped about the same time.

"Mirage?" wondered Hippy stupidly.

"M--m--mister Lang, do--do you me--ean that wha--at we see isn't wa--ater at all?"

"It's a mirage, I tell you. Get back to your positions!"

CHAPTER XIII

A STARTLING ALARM

Elfreda Briggs and Grace Harlowe did not give way to the panic that had seized their companions. Both had seen the mirage, each knew instinctively what it was, but when they saw Hi Lang overhaul the two leaders, Grace and Elfreda hurried in from their positions and joined their companions.

"Grace! Oh, Grace," moaned Emma as her friend rode up to them.

"Give me water or I shall die."

"Have courage, Emma dear. We are all suffering from thirst. Hand me your cup and I will give you a swallow. I don't dare trust you with the canteen."

Grace poured out about a tablespoonful of water, which Emma drank in one choking gulp. Each of the others got about the same quant.i.ty, but it was not much of a relief.

"Shall I return to my position now, sir?" questioned Grace of the guide. "Yes, please. I have told the others to do so at once.

Hereafter, in no circ.u.mstances are you people to run away as you did just now. We must go on as rapidly as is consistent, until dark. I wish to reach a certain point before we stop for the night. We may find some relief there unless the storm has buried everything so deep that we cannot find the place," said Hi Lang.

"Do you mean water?" asked Elfreda.

"I am in hopes that it may be so, Miss Briggs."

"Alors! Let's go!"

The party broke up at once and rode to their positions, Emma Dean, red of face, her hair down her back, tear drops still trickling down her cheeks, leaving little furrows behind them, summoning all her courage and doing her best to regain control of herself.

The mirage had disappeared by the time the start was made, and did not appear again to tantalize the suffering Overland Riders. All the rest of the afternoon, eager eyes, reddened by the glare of the sun on the white desert, sought for water holes. None were found, not even dry tanks, but when darkness settled over the desert a faint breeze sprung up. They drank it in eagerly, taking long, deep breaths and uttering sighs of satisfaction.

Hi called the party together with a signal shot.

"How long before we make camp?" called Grace as she rode up.

"About five miles if my reckoning is right," answered the guide.

"No need to look for water holes now that it is dark. We shan't find any unless we accidentally fall into one."

"You are about the most cheerful prophet I've ever known,"

declared Lieutenant Wingate. "Glad you weren't with us in the war."

"At least, Mr. Lang has made good all his forecasts. You must admit that," reminded Miss Briggs.

"He has, bad luck to him!" growled Hippy, which brought a grin to the thin, bronzed face of the desert guide.

It was nearly ten o 'clock when Hi finally ordered a halt. The Riders, upon looking about them, observed that there was considerable vegetation there, sage, cactus, dwarfed trees and shrubbery, scattered, twisted, misshapen things, all of them.

"Turn the ponies loose immediately," directed the guide. "They will get a little moisture from the green stuff. Never mind staking down. They will not run away. Ping, start a fire and cook something. Sorry, folks, but it will have to be a dry supper this time."

"Where is that relief you were promising us a century or so ago?"

demanded Nora Wingate.

"Yes, Mr. Lang. We have been patient and borne our thirst uncomplainingly. Now, we MUST have relief. I don't want a dry supper, I want water!" cried Emma.

Anne said she feared that she too had about reached her limit.

"Be patient, girls. Mr. Lang is doing the best he can," urged Grace.

"Yes, don't we know that?" agreed Miss Briggs. "He is splendid. I hope these unsolicited compliments do not turn your head, Mr.

Lang," teased Elfreda.

The guide laughed silently.

"Come with me. We can pitch our tents later on," he directed, striding away. He led them through mesquite bushes, finally halting before a patch of odd, pumpkin-shaped cactus, that, with its grotesque shape, its spines and fishhooks, was far from being attractive-looking.

Hi's knife was out as he halted, and, with it, he laid open a cactus plant, revealing to the eager eyes of his charges a silver- white pulp glistening with water.

"This will relieve your thirst," he said, handing the white, moist ma.s.s to Emma.

"Oh--h--h--h!" gasped Miss Dean. "This is heavenly."