As for the stock, they were still plunging wildly about and snorting in a terrified fashion, and, had it not been for their stout raw-hide tethers, they would undoubtedly have stampeded.
Drawing a match, Pete held it high as he neared the stricken bulk outstretched before them. The next minute he gave an astonished cry:
"A camel!"
"A what!" gasped the entire group in unison.
"Jes' what I said, a backterian camel," reiterated Pete, striking another match.
They could all see then that he spoke the truth, astounding as it seemed. The creature that lay still before them, a bullet through its brain, was a veritable, undoubted specimen of the Bactrian species.
"But—but—great heavens!" cried Jack, hardly able to believe his eyes, "how,—what——"
"What on earth is a camel doing out here on the New Mexican desert?" the professor finished for him.
"Going eight days without a drink," suggested Ralph in an undertone; but none of the party was in a mood for humor just then.
It was Pete who solved the mystery.