"It's mighty stupid o' ye drinkin' so much after a heavy supper," said he, reprovingly. "It's real bad for your digestion, I reckon."
CHAPTER XIII The Mystic Mountain
"Latitude 27° 42´ 10´´, longitude 128° 7´ 11´´." It was noon three days after leaving Thirsty Spring, as their last strangely-found well had been designated, and Bob read aloud these observations as he noted them down in his log-book. They had reached the vicinity of Bentley's last camp, and all eyes had been alert for the melancholy symbols of the ill-fated expedition. Away to the east the country extended back in a series of rugged "blows" until they suddenly merged into apparent nothingness; a swelling, white haze obscured the true horizon in this direction, but north and south well-wooded grassy plains stretched into the dim distance. The uttermost edge of the desert seemed to have been reached at last.
"Ay, it was just about here that the camel broke away," said Mackay, musingly, "and over there"—he pointed to the east—"lies the mountain."
"It must be a terrible long way over there, Mac," commented Emu Bill, "for we should see it 'bout forty miles off if it is any size, an' you said it was a whopper."
Mackay looked puzzled; certainly no mountain was visible at this period.
"It must be there," he reiterated grimly.