The guide, for the moment lost in thought, finally turned to the lad again.
"Moods, did you say? Well, that describes it. The desert is as moody as an old hen with a brood of chickens. Know the Nevada Desert? Sometimes I think I do; then again, I know I don't."
"But you could not get lost——"
"I have," smiled the guide. "I've been wandering about the alkali for days without being able to find my way back. If you are able to read trails and the droop of the scattering sage brush you will have made a long stride toward knowing your way about the desert."
"I don't understand," wondered the lad.
"No; of course not. It's a long story, but when we have time I will initiate you into the mysteries of reading the desert signs. The west is clearing up. That's good," the guide exclaimed in a relieved tone.
"Which means that we go on?"
"Yes."
"Are we turning off into the desert, did you say?" asked Walter Perkins, with sparkling eyes.
"Well, not just yet, Master Walter. We shall have to refill our water-bags before leaving the range. I take it, you boys would not care to be without water?"