“He looks sort ashamed of himself, doesn’t he?”
Yet, after a few moments, it was evident that the beast felt refreshed by the cool application and Carlos exclaimed:
“Good! If it’s helping him it will be nice for us, too.”
“Then I’ll bruise a lot and we can put them in our hats and walk to the hills. I shall not ride poor Noni another step till he gets well.”
This simple craft, of the crushed leaves, was of infinite value to the straying children, who sturdily pressed forward toward the mountains—though these seemed to retreat rather than draw nearer. After they had been walking for a long time, till they were almost exhausted, Carlota stopped and clapped her hand to her eyes, exclaiming:
“Oh! I see things! Houses, and trees, and queer, rushing wagons! Water, too! Water, water! But they’re all upside down—they are all coming out of the sky—head first!”
Carlos had seen such strange “pictures in the sky” when he had been a-field with his father and understood what she meant.
“A mirage—that’s what it is, just a mirage. Which way? Maybe I can see it, too.”
She pointed out the curious thing and the lad studied it attentively, then explained:
“I know what those queer wagons are. See? They are leaving the houses—they are going—going—away. They are like the pictures in the books, when you hold the page wrong side up. They are—railway—cars—and—an—engine!”