THE FIRST DESERT CAMP
"How far do we go to-night?" asked Grace, after a long silence,
during which the party moved steadily forward.
"Until we find a tank," was the brief reply uttered by Hi Lang.
"What's that he says?" questioned Hippy.
"Mr. Lang says that we must keep on going until we reach a tank,
whatever that may be," answered Grace. "Will you please explain,
Mr. Lang?"
"Tank is a water hole covered by a thin crust of alkali. Sometimes
the crust is there but the water isn't," the guide informed her.
"Do you know where to find one?" questioned Hippy.
"I know where one ought to be, but you can't most always tell.
Ought to reach this one about midnight. If we get water there we
will be all right. Go easy with your canteens, for if we shouldn't
find water you will need what you have."
"Mine is all gone now," spoke up Emma Dean. "May I have a drink of
yours, Grace? My throat is burning."
"One little swallow," admonished Grace, passing her canteen to
Emma. "You heard what the guide said."
"Yes, you'll wish you were a camel before you have done with this
journey," added Lieutenant Wingate.
Too weary to talk, Anne and Nora were nodding on their saddles,
but Elfreda was wide awake and alert, filled with a wonder that
was akin to awe at the vast mysteriousness of the desert night.
It was shortly after midnight when Hi Lang halted and sat
surveying his surroundings.
"Dismount and rest!" was his brief command.
The Overland girls slid from their saddles, and the guide, after
handing his bridle-rein to Ping, strode off into the darkness.
"Oh, this is terrible!" wailed Emma. "I know I shall expire."
"Good! Then we shall have a little peace," retorted Hippy
laughingly.
"Don't," begged Grace. "The poor girl really is suffering, but
when she gets used to the heat and discomforts out here I think
she will really enjoy it." Grace petted the wet neck of her pony
and he nosed her cheek and nibbled at the brim of her sombrero.
"How do you feel, Elfreda?"
"As if I had been wearing a mustard-plaster suit. I am burned from
head to foot."
"Yes, that's the way I feel," cried Emma. "What is good for it,
Grace?"
"Sand," interjected Miss Briggs, which sally caused a laugh and
made the girls feel better.
At this juncture Hi Lang came up to them, walking briskly.
"Stake down and make camp," he ordered.
"You have water?" questioned Hippy.
"Yes. Ping! Hustle your bones. Get some firewood and make a blaze
so we can see what we're doing. When that is ready, get supper
ready, and then pitch the camp."
"Firewood!" scoffed Hippy. "I should like to know where you are
going to find it?"
"Sagebrush! Plenty of that hereabouts."
Hippy could not understand how a fire could be made from green
sagebrush, but he waited to be shown before making further
comments. In a few moments the Chinaman had a little fire blazing,
the guide and Hippy, in the meantime, having staked down the
ponies and relieved the burros of their packs. The burros were
left to roam where they would, Hi assuring his charges that the
pack animals were too lazy to run away.
The girls, while Ping was preparing a light supper for them, set
to work to pitch the tents. Carrying canvas buckets, Hippy and the
guide then hurried to the water hole.
"It won't do to wait for the water, for it has a habit, in this
country, of suddenly disappearing while you wait," explained Hi.
"Yes, but where's the water?" wondered Lieutenant Wingate, as Hi
got down in a hole that he had opened by breaking down the crust
with his boots.
"Give me that blanket and I'll show you," he said, reaching for a
canvas square, which he spread out in the opening and pressed down
with his hands.
In a few moments water began seeping up through the blanket, which
was so placed that it was lower in the middle than at the sides.
"That beats me," marveled Hippy. "How did you know there was water
here?"
"I didn't. I knew where I found it the last time I was this way,
but that didn't mean it would be here this time. These desert
underground streams shift their courses almost as often as the
wind does. Hand me a bucket."
Two buckets were finally filled and passed up to Hippy.
"Water the ponies first. Give them only a little at first. They're
too warm to drink their fill. When you come back bring the red
buckets for water for us to drink," directed the guide.
Hippy, marveling at the ways of the desert, took the buckets and
began watering the ponies. The two bucketfuls answered for four of
them, and by the time he returned to the water hole Hi had two
more bucketfuls ready for him. In this way all the ponies and the
burros were supplied with water, and Hi, working as fast as he
could, filled all the buckets for the night's use of man and
beast, then scrambled out of the water hole.
"I hope we still find water here in the morning," he said.
"What if we do not?"
"Then we go without it, Lieutenant. One has to get used to thirst
out here. You will see many a dry day before we finish our
journey."
"Hm--m--m--m!" mused Hippy reflectively.
"Him come along," cried Ping Wing in a shrill voice, meaning that
supper was ready, as the two men with their water buckets entered
the camp.
"Four meals a day, eh?" grinned Hippy. "That is what I call the
proper thing. I shall have to readjust myself so as to know how to
live on four meals a day, but I am so hungry now that you can see
right through me."
"We always could," teased Miss Briggs.
Now that the supper was ready, Ping piled more sagebrush on the
fire and made a blaze that lighted up the little desert camp, its
white tents standing out clearly defined in the light and
appearing very small. Just beyond them the "crunch, crunch" of the
ponies' teeth as they tore at the sage, which was to be their only
food for a long time to come, could be heard, and it really was a
soothing sound in this sea of silence and mystery.
There was bacon, biscuit with honey, and tea for their midnight
luncheon. Emma and Hippy were first to try the bacon, but no
sooner did they taste of it than they began to choke and sputter.
"Awful! What stuff are you feeding me?" cried Emma.
"Yes, some one is trying to poison us," groaned Hippy.
"What's the matter?" grinned the guide.
"It is the most awful stuff I ever put in my mouth, so bitter I
simply can't eat it," complained Emma.
Grace smiled. She had nibbled at a slice of bacon and knew
instantly what caused its bitter taste.
"Alkali," the guide told them. "Everything you eat and drink out
here will taste bitter, but time you will not notice the bitter
taste."
Emma uttered a suppressed wail. There were complaints from each of
the other girls, except Grace, who, though she disliked that
bitter taste as much as did her companions, was too plucky to
voice her dislike.
"You must make certain that your tents are cleared of tarantulas
before you take off your shoes, folks. If you get out of bed in
the night be certain to put your shoes on first so you do not step
on one of the pesky fellows," warned the guide.
"Any other cheerful little features about this camp that you can
think of?" asked Hippy solemnly.
"Plenty, but I'll tell you about them some other time, unless you
discover them for yourselves before then."
"I wish to goodness that I had gone to the seashore where the
worst that can happen to one is to be pinched by a crab or to
drown in the surf," complained Emma.
A laugh cleared the atmosphere, and the girls, immediately after
supper, prepared for bed, which they welcomed eagerly; and soon
after that the camp settled down for the night, enveloped in deep
and profound silence. A gentle breeze, sweetly cool after the
burning heat of the day, crept in and lulled the tired Overlanders
to sleep.
Now and then the silence was broken by the far off echoing scream
of a prowling coyote or the distant hoot of an owl. But the
Overlanders did not hear. They were sleeping soundly, storing up
energy for the coming day, a day that was destined to be filled
with hardships and excitement and peril for them.