The next few minutes were spent in sweeping the country round, and in a very short time they were pretty well acquainted with their position. For right away forward and to their left the grass grew shorter and shorter for a couple of miles, till it looked more than ever like some lawn whose soft green grew greyer and greyer till it was of a dull shimmering white.
“A great lake,” cried Chris.
“Try again, my boy,” said his father.
“’Tisn’t salt desert, is it?” said the boy.
“Breathe in the air that is coming from it, my lad.”
“Hot and dry,” cried Chris excitedly. “That’s why I was getting so warm. I thought it was from riding so fast.”
“We’re skirting the edge of the desert,” said the doctor, using his glass. “Yes, as far as I can see it is all tableland that way; the grass soon ends, and all is dusty sand with the air quivering over it as it sweeps away towards the mountain chain, while this way to the right the grass and trees seem to run up green and beautiful into the hills, which widen out into a valley.”
“Can you see water, sir?”
“Yes,” said the doctor, scanning the land to his right and away forward; “water in two places. Our course is plain enough—to keep along here at the edge of the great plain where the grass is short and the ground firm. We are on a dividing line between the bad land and the rich park-like patches and the pools and swamp. This ought to take us into the valley yonder and to one of those hills where we can camp in what must be a good hunting country. Forward!”
They cantered on, drawing rein now and then to breathe their horses, to find that the desert land with its quivering layer of air grew more clearly marked on one side, the country more beautiful and park-like, diversified by hill and dale, on the other, and away in front the mighty peak looking as distant as ever, but with its features more plainly defined.