“There aren’t many around here,” explained Mr. Pierce, who had heard Jack’s interpretation of the question. “Oh, the West isn’t half so wild and woolly as some book writers make it out to be.”
“Are you boys pretty good at going dry?” asked Tanker Ike, turning to Jack, when they had accomplished several miles more of their journey.
“Going dry?” repeated our hero.
“Yes. Can you go without a drink if you have to?”
“Why?”
“Well, you see, we’ll start to cross the desert to-morrow, and though we’ll take plenty of water along, you never can tell what will happen. It usually takes two days to make it, but sometimes an accident happens to a wagon, or a horse or a mule may go lame, and then you’re longer on the trip. When you are, your water doesn’t always last, and many a time I’ve finished the journey with my tongue hanging out of my mouth, and the poor beasts as dry as powder-horns. So I just thought I’d ask you if you were pretty good at going dry.”
“Well, Nat and I were shipwrecked once,” answered Jack, “and if it hadn’t rained we’d have been in a bad way, eh, Nat?”
“That’s what. Sanctified sand-fleas! but that was a tough time,” he added, as he thought of the cruise of the Polly Ann.
“Well, it never rains on this desert,” commented Mr. Pierce.
“Can’t you carry enough water so that if you’re four days instead of two crossing the desert you’ll have plenty?” asked Bony.