Then, dipping down into another of the gravelly draws, he noticed a narrow trail swinging through the middle of it. His tired horse pricked its ears, and quickened its pace. A coyote trail, this—yes, marked by antelope hoofs, too; evidently going somewhere. An antelope trail usually led to water, if followed far enough. If the water happened to be near—then, hurrah! It would be great luck for a boy to find water when General Dodge, the explorer, and General Rawlins, chief-of-staff of the United States Army, both were looking for it. So Terry hopefully pressed forward, in the narrow antelope trail.
The draw turned a rocky shoulder; a couple of coyotes lifted their sharp noses, and were away like tawny shadows; Terry’s horse eagerly nickered; and here, near before, there was a spot of green in the desert dun.
A spring, sure enough!
Terry hauled his horse about—“General Rawlins first, old fellow. But you’ll get some”—and forced him up the side of the draw, to spread the good word.
One after another the men saw him, and in they came, answering his signals. General Dodge was nearest.
“What is it? Water?”
“Yes, sir. We found a spring.”
“Good! Where?”
“Straight down in this draw, sir.”
“Sweet water? Did you taste it?”