A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT
A wan and considerably mussed up party of girls met Grace and the
guide when the two rode into what was left of their camp.
"Well, here we are at last," cried Grace cheerily.
"We thought you were lost. How could you have missed such an
opportunity?" wondered Miss Briggs.
"I did not miss it, Elfreda dear. I got beautifully lost and
didn't know it. Most persons when they get lost are very much
alive to the fact, but I traveled on in blissful ignorance of the
fact that I was headed straight for Death Valley."
"I wish you wouldn't talk about it. Death Valley reminds me of the
experience we had last night," complained Emma.
"Oh, then you have been to Death Valley?" questioned Anne.
"No, I said--I mean I said--I mean I meant to have said that---"
"Let it go at that. You will get tongue-tied if you keep on,"
warned Hippy Wingate. "We have something more serious on hand than
to listen to your--"
"Yes, girls," interrupted Grace. "Mr. Lang tells me that we MUST
move on immediately, that we MUST find water, and that, too,
without delay. What shape are we in with regard to equipment?"
"We have our tents," answered Elfreda.
"Some cooking utensils, and our food, which Ping had the foresight
to take to bed with him," said Anne Nesbit whimsically.
"Were the rifles saved?"
"All secure, and the ammunition too," replied Lieutenant Wingate.
"I believe that a few blankets were blown away and lost, together
with numerous odds and ends that weren't nailed down. What could
you expect with a wind strong enough to blow our horses far out on
the desert. Got any water?"
"I have some. Do you mean to tell me, Hippy Wingate, that an old
campaigner like yourself has drunk up all the water he had in his
canteen, and in the face of a great drouth?" demanded Grace,
trying hard not to smile.
"Every last drop of it," admitted Hippy. "But what's a fellow to
do when he is thirsty and his throat is cracking open?"
"Use the precious stuff sparingly. Here! Take a sip from my
canteen. Only a sip, Lieutenant."
With the eyes of the entire party on him, Hippy dared not take
more than enough water to moisten his throat. Grace then took the
canteen from him, passing it to Emma.
"The same holds good for you, Emma," she said, "Take a sip and
pass it along. What water is there may have to be our only supply
all the rest of the afternoon."
"That's right, Mrs. Gray," spoke up Hi Lang. "Ping!"
"Les?"
"Are you all packed and ready?"
"Me belongee chop-chop," answered Ping, meaning that he was ready
to move.
"Follow along behind us, but make those lazy burros keep close up.
We don't want to lose you and have to look all over the desert for
you. Now, folks, please listen carefully to what I have to say.
While I do not wish to alarm you, it is well that you thoroughly
understand what our situation is. We must find water. You will all
spread out with an interval of a hundred yards, say, between
ponies, and scrutinize every foot of ground on either side."
"Who goes where?" interrupted Emma.
"Please be quiet," rebuked Grace.
"I am coming to that," resumed the guide. "Two things I wish you
to look for, alkali crusts that may cover a tank, and
discolorations on the desert. That is, if you find a spot darker
than the prevailing color of the ground, that discoloration may be
the result of moisture. Do you get me?"
"Yes," answered the Overlanders in chorus.
"In the event of such a discovery, shout, or if I am too far away
to hear your voice, fire one shot into the air. About the crusts
that I spoke of, when you find one, hop off and break it in. You
probably will not see water, even though it is there, but, after
you have broken open the crust, thrust your head into the opening
and sniff the air."
"What we need is a thirsty bird dog in this outfit," observed
Hippy, without the suggestion of a smile on his face.
Hi Lang permitted himself a brief silent laugh.
"What are we to sniff for?" questioned Emma in all seriousness.
"For a damp odor. The air under the crust, too, will be perhaps a
degree cooler than the outer air. If it is a dry tank you will get
a dry, earthy odor that you cannot mistake. The one who finds
water will, as I have suggested, shout or shoot. The others will
hold their positions until I have investigated.
"Another thing. Ponies familiar with desert conditions, as most of
ours are, sometimes can smell water when they can't see it. If one
of your animals suddenly bolts in a direction that you think he
should not go, give him his head for a little way. He may lead you
to water."
"Why didn't I think to put a divining rod in my pocket?" chuckled
Hippy.
"You brought a sweet little parasol, that blew away on the wings
of the storm," reminded Nora. "Why didn't you bring something
useful while you were about it?"
"Nora darling, didn't I bring you along? What, tell me, could be
more useful to this outfit than your own beautiful little self?"
"Go on, go on with ye! If there were a Blarney Stone here I'd
throw it at ye!" rebuked Nora, laughing in spite of her effort to
be stern, joined in her merriment by the other girls of the
outfit.
"Take your positions!" ordered the guide. "The lieutenant will
take the center. To the right, Miss Dean, Miss Briggs. Left, Mrs.
Nesbit, Mrs. Wingate and Mrs. Gray. I will take the extreme right.
You, Mrs. Gray, will look after the extreme left. Keep your
formation as well as you can so that we do not straggle too much.
All ready!"
The Overland Riders swung themselves to their saddles and moved to
the positions assigned to them, then started away, walking their
ponies. Their line looked like a troop of cavalry going into
action, except that the horses moved listlessly.
Emma found the first alkali tank, and getting off, broke the crust
and thrust her head in the opening.
"What do you find?" called Hippy.
"Ugh! It smells like a rummage sale," answered Miss Dean.
"Dry!" announced Hippy. "Move along."
All along the line the girls were trying to make merry, trying to
forget the terrible heat, a deadly burning heat, but their efforts
in this direction were not very successful.
Heat waves shimmered over the white sands of the desert with not a
breath of air stirring to relieve the deadly monotony. It did not
seem possible to Elfreda Briggs that human beings long could
endure such heat, and she wondered at the cheerfulness of her
companions.
Hi Lang rode around behind the line of riders to see what it was
that Emma Dean had discovered, but he paused at the dry water hole
for but a moment, then hurried back to his position. Now and then
one of the riders would dismount and examine a patch of ground,
only to meet with disappointment.
They had come up to a vast cup-like depression in the desert,
white with the alkali crust that covered its bottom, when Hi fired
a signal shot to indicate that they were to halt for a rest.
"What is that big hole?" called Lieutenant Wingate.
"A prehistoric lake, in whose alkaline dust no plant, not even
sage-brush, can grow, and upon which a puddle of rainwater becomes
an almost deadly poison. This is one of the most thoroughly hated
spots on the desert, hated and shunned by most of those who travel
this way."
"Is there not water under the crust at the bottom?" asked Miss
Dean.
"Not a drop. There probably has not been in centuries. No water is
known to have been found within a few miles of this spot either,
but, as I have said, one never knows, and the traveler must take
nothing for granted."
"Fine place for a summer outing," observed Hippy.
"Probably there is on all the globe no other spot more forbidding,
more desolate, more deadly," added the guide. "We must be going.
Move on!"
All that afternoon the Overland Riders plodded wearily along, now
and then hopes suddenly raised being dashed to earth by dry water
holes. At the next halt, Hi passed along the line, giving each
rider a sip of water from the slender supply in his canteen, Grace
smilingly declining to drink.
"Have you any left in your canteen?" he asked.
"A few drops, but I am saving them until I am thirsty. I have been
sucking the cork for the last hour." Grace then asked about the
dry lake, and the guide repeated what he had said to Emma and
Hippy.
"How are the girls standing the strain?" she questioned.
"Very well indeed. I hope they hold out as well until we find
water."
"Now that there is no one but ourselves present, please tell me
what the prospects are?" requested Grace.
"I can't, Mrs. Gray, for the very good reason that I don't know.
Of course water we must have or we shall perish, and so will the
ponies. As a last resort we can head for the nearest mountain
range, but it would take us nearly two days to make it with ponies
and riders in good working condition."
"Then the situation really is serious!" asked Grace.
"No, not yet, but we are on the verge of a serious situation. Yes,
that about expresses it. However, I have hopes that we may find a
tank about ten miles from here, one that I have never failed to
find some water in, though at times it has been a mighty slow
process to get it. I must get to the other end of the line now.
Good luck."
Several tanks were found during the next few hours, but not a drop
of water in any of them. It fell to Emma Dean to make a discovery,
however, that thrilled all within sound of her voice.
"Water!" she screamed. "Water!"
"I believe you are right. Hooray!" shouted Hippy Wingate.
"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!"