"Not a smell," came from Si. "I thought we'd get something, even if it was pretty riley."
"Onward it is," said Maybe Dixon. "Don't stop to cry over spilt milk."
"That's the talk," said Mark, and they went on as before.
As it grew towards night they could think of nothing but water. Nobody wanted to rest without a drink of something, no matter how bad. Their tongues were swollen and all were "spitting cotton" as Bob put it. Even poor Darling's tongue hung out and the mule looked the picture of suffering.
"He can't drag the load much further," said Mark. "For two pins I'd cut him loose and let him go on alone."
"If we did that, somebody would come along and steal our outfit," said Si.
"What is it, Sammy?" asked Bob, as one of the Socket boys came running up.
"Pap wants to talk to you," answered Sammy.
They halted, and soon Josiah Socket came plodding along.
"My hosses is tuckered out," said he. "I reckon your mule is too. Can't someone go ahead and see if there is water in sight, while the most of us rest?"