“I don’t know how we’re going to manage,” thought the boy, as he held the dripping corner of the kerchief towards the mule’s muzzle; but the poor brute did, and acted without hesitation, making a snap as sharply delivered as that of a dog, and catching the end between its strong teeth. Then it gave its head a toss, and treating the water-bearing piece of fabric as if it were a wisp of wet grass, drew it, dripping and cool, right into its mouth, the sharp tug or two given overcoming Ned’s resistance.
Before the boy could recover from his surprise there was a quick juicy sound of champing in accord with the movement of the mule’s jaws, a gulp, and the kerchief had gone.
“You stupid brute!” cried Ned indignantly. “What am I to do now?”
Common-sense suggested what should be his next proceeding, and that was to take off his own handkerchief and his felt hat, which he turned inside out. Then laying it beyond the mule’s reach, he soaked the fresh kerchief till it would hold no more, squeezed it so that the contents fell into the reversed crown of his hat, and repeated the act till about half of half-a-pint of dirty water lay ready. This he held out to the mule, which plunged in its lips and rapidly sucked out every drop.
Repeating the process, Ned managed to give each of the ponies enough to wash out its mouth.
“If I only had a straw or a reed!” thought the boy; but there was hardly a twig of the sage-brush to be seen, and he shook his head in despair.
But there was something else to do. The mule was fidgeting, and any restive action on the beast’s part might mean waste of water; so he hurriedly closed the tompion, leaving its brass chain so that there was no risk of loss; and this was hardly done before, refreshed by its portion, the mule made a desperate effort to rise, but only got its fore-legs well planted, and then sank back. It made two more trials, but with less and less success, and then, apparently fully aware of the fact that the weight carried was too much for it, resignation ensued, and the poor beast lay partly over on its side between the barrels, and made no further effort beyond seeking for a restful position in which to lay its heavy head. This was fully stretched out in the sand, where the last thing Ned seemed to see was the twitching of the poor brute’s long ears to rid itself of the flies which attacked it as if under the idea that they had found something dead.
The sun’s intense heat soon made the boy aware of the fact that his head was bare, and restoring his hat to its proper shape he replaced it, finding it cool enough to enable him to think a little more clearly of his position and ask himself whether he could do anything more. He asked Chris the same question that he had put to himself, but there was no reply, for it was evident that the poor fellow had sunk into a complete state of stupor, and he was soon aware that he was fast following his friend’s example. For the soft black spots began to float before his eyes, growing larger and larger, till they seemed to blot out the objects that had begun to sail slowly round and round.
There was a little reaction after this, and he saw the mule’s eyes closed and the two mustangs sniffing again at the farther barrel, and heard them sigh as if in weary disappointment at not being able to get at the contents. But Ned felt no trouble, for everything seemed to be restful now that he was convinced that he could do no more after doing his best.
There was the glowing haze all around, and the terrible silence of the dusty plain, with the nearest objects standing out with wonderful clearness, till they began at last to sail slowly round and round him, while the black spots formed in front of his eyes—tiny distinct specks at first, which gradually swelled and swelled till they grew soft and blurred; blacker and blacker too, as they blotted out the moving objects, and finally the glowing, hot, silvery haze; and then all was black darkness and silence profound.