They gazed in the direction pointed out and saw a small deer running among the sage bushes. Its tongue was hanging from its mouth and it looked hot and thirsty.
"I believe that deer is looking for water!" cried Mark.
"More'n likely, lad," answered Maybe Dixon. "Maybe we'd better follow the critter up instead of shootin' it down."
"A deer ought to be able to scent water a long way off," said Bob. "Let us follow the animal by all means. Even if it wants to run away, it will go towards the water first."
They followed the deer, that was too tired to do more than lope along at a slow gait. The chase led around a small hillock and then to where some distant trees were growing.
"I believe it is going for water!" cried Mark. "If so, we are in luck."
Soon they were within two hundred feet of the clump of trees, which, they now saw, were backed up by a series of rocks. The deer was out of sight.
"We've lost the deer!" murmured Bob. "But I shan't care if only we find water over there."
"I think we shall," said Maybe Dixon. "But how much remains to be seen."
All broke into a run and soon gained the first of the trees. No water was there and they turned towards the rocks. Then Mark caught sight of a thin stream of water gushing out from between two big stones and set up a shout: