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."