CHAPTER XVIII
AN OLD INDIAN TRICK
It was the most trying day of their journey that the Overlanders were experiencing, because of the heat and the fact that they were getting further and further below sea level. The heat was a lifeless heat, and the members of the outfit found themselves nodding and swaying in their saddles, keeping awake only by much effort.
"Water only five miles away," called Hippy Wingate late in the afternoon in a cheerful voice. "Wake up, Overlanders! Hi says we will be there before sundown."
A little later the party broke into a gallop, leaving Ping Wing and his lazy burros far to the rear of them. They were now crossing that arid region known as the Pahute Mesa, and, just over the horizon, lay a series of broken mountain ranges, wild, cut off from civilization, and shunned by all save those whose duty, fancy or love of adventure called them there. On beyond these the desert again took up its monotonous reach, hotter, more deadly than before. Just now, however, the thoughts of the Overland Riders were on the water hole for which they were heading, and, next in importance, the cool mountain ranges. Hi Lang beckoned to Grace to ride up to him.
"What is it, Mr. Lang?" she asked.
"Please caution the young ladies to be sparing of the water."
"Why, it isn't possible that we are short of water," protested
Grace.
"We may be."
"Will you please explain? Your words intimate that you may have discovered something."
"I saw dust rising from the desert over yonder, a short time ago. It moved along in a little cloud to the westward and finally disappeared."
"Do you think it was our mysterious horseman?" asked Grace.
"Maybe. There was more than one horse, as I could tell from the dust kicked up."
Grace asked what relation that had to the shortage of water.
"Just this, Mrs. Gray. That cloud rose—and I saw it the instant it appeared—from about where the tank that we are heading for should be. That's all. Of course I don't know what those folks were doing there, but I am warning you to go easy on the water."
Grace thanked him and rode over to her companions to caution them to be sparing of the water, saying that it were possible that they might be short of it, though Grace confessed to herself that she did not see how even a visit of the desert "pirates" to a water hole possibly could prevent her outfit from getting sufficient water for their use. Of course, if there were but little water in the tank it might take a long time to get enough for the ponies.
"Something has occurred, has it not?" questioned Elfreda in a tone barely loud enough for Grace to hear.
"Mr. Lang saw a cloud of dust that aroused his suspicion. The guide has something of an imagination," added Grace, smiling at her perspiring companion.
After a little Hi Lang ordered the party to drop into a slower pace, saying that he wished to save the ponies so far as possible.
"Dismount, but wait before you unpack," directed the guide, when the party arrived at the water hole.
"Girls, please stay where you are for the present," called Grace.
"What's the big idea?" demanded Hippy Wingate.
"Mr. Lang wishes to see if any one has been here. He thought he saw a dust cloud in this direction this afternoon and desires to have a look around, so don't stamp about and destroy the trail, if there is such a thing," admonished Grace.
Hi Lang got down in the water hole, and for a few moments was out of their sight. He rose finally and clambered out, his face wearing a stern expression, and Grace saw at once that the guide was trying desperately to control his temper.
Without so much as looking at the Overlanders, Hi Lang began nosing about, now and then bending over to peer at the ground, stepping cautiously, following a crooked course, all of which excited Hippy Wingate's merriment.
"He works just like a dog does when the rabbit season opens," declared the lieutenant. "What's he up to?"
"Looking for trouble," suggested Emma.
Hi followed the trail he had picked up some little distance out on the desert, which the light of the full moon enabled him to do. He then stood up and gazed at the sky for a brief moment.
"Unsaddle and make camp," he directed tersely.
"Did you find what you expected?" asked Grace.
"Yes. I'll tell you about it as soon as we make camp."
"How's the water?" called Hippy.
"There isn't a drop in the tank, Lieutenant. Ping, you will give the ponies about a quart apiece from our supply, no more. We will stake down now."
Camp was quickly made and the bacon was frying over a small, flickering cook-fire a few moments afterward. Efforts to be merry at supper that night were a failure, and Hi Lang was unusually taciturn.
"May we hear the worst now, Mr. Lang?" asked Grace as they finished the meal.
"As I told you, there is no water in the tank, but the sand is still moist, showing that there was water there a short time since."
"Some one must have been rather dry," observed Hippy, but no one laughed at his humor.
"There probably was not much water left there after the party before us finished helping themselves, but there would have been sufficient for us if they had left the tank alone. They tampered with it, folks!"
"How do you mean, Hi?" questioned Lieutenant Wingate.
"By digging in and poking about in the tank they have managed to start the water seeping deeper into the ground until it finally found a new course and disappeared. It's an old Indian trick they've worked on us."
"Is it possible that men can be so desperate?" wondered Anne
Nesbit.
"Men!" exploded the guide. "They're not men. They're low-down hounds!"
"Why should they wish to do these things to us?" demanded Nora, flushing with resentment.
"There were three men in the party this time, one being the same fellow that has followed us most of the way out here. I don't know who the others are. It isn't so much the water that's bothering me as it is that they don't come out and face us if they have a grudge to settle with us. I'm ready to meet them and I reckon you folks are too."
"I think it would be a relief to have them do so," agreed Elfreda Briggs. "This constant tormenting gets on one's nerves after a time."
"What is your plan? I know you have one, Mr. Lang," spoke up
Grace.
"The clouds are making up in the south, and in a couple of hours they will hide the moon. It isn't advisable to do anything until the night gets good and dark, so I suggest that you folks lie down and get some rest, for we have a long, hard ride ahead of us."
"To-night? Ride to-night?" questioned Emma.
"Yes. Ride and ride hard. Even the lazy burros have got to get a move on. We must ride all night to-night, and when day dawns we must be in or near Forty-Mile Canyon. Then let those pirates find us if they can. They will find us sooner or later, in all probability, but by that time we shall be doing some stalking on our own account. You see, they will be expecting to find us here in the morning, but we shall be far on our journey by then," said the guide.
"What! Ride all night?" demanded Emma. "I'll die! I surely will."
"And probably all day to-morrow," nodded the guide. "I will start the Chinaman on his way the moment the sky becomes overcast, and we will follow an hour or so later. You folks will have that much longer to sleep. Good-night, folks." Hi got up abruptly and walked away to give his orders to Ping Wing.
"This is where we link arms with trouble," observed Miss Briggs, with a shake of the head.
"Stick by me. I have a rope and I know how to throw it, J. Elfreda dear," replied Grace Harlowe laughingly.