Phil shook his head.
"No, Bill," he replied, "I can't. We're all of us poets at heart, but you're the only one that can give his poetry expression. One poet is enough, another is too many."
At sundown they watered all the horses again, filled every canteen and skin bag with water, bade farewell to the well that they had digged and loved, and again marched westward over the sand. But they were now vigorous and full of hope, the sand was harder, and in the long cool night hours they traveled fast. Their most pressing need now was to secure food for the horses, which were relatively weaker than their masters, and by the moonlight they watched anxiously for some dim line which would indicate the approach of forests or mountains. They saw no such line, but the country was undoubtedly growing hillier. The sand was also packed much harder. At times it seemed to resemble soil, but as yet there was neither grass nor bushes.
They plodded along in silence, but hopeful. All the horses were weak from the lack of food, and the four walked by the side of them throughout the night. But the night itself was beautiful, a dusky blue sky sprinkled with a myriad of silver stars. The weakness of the horses increased, and the four human beings were much alarmed for their brute comrades, who were so important to them. But toward morning all the horses raised their heads, thrust out their noses, and began to sniff.
"Now what can the matter be?" exclaimed John Bedford.
"They smell water," replied Bill Breakstone. "They can smell it a long way off, and, as it's bound to be surface water, that means grass. I'm of the opinion, boys, that we're saved."
The horses, despite their weakness, advanced so rapidly now that the four ran in order to keep up.
"Jump on their backs," exclaimed Bill Breakstone, when they had gone about a quarter of a mile. "It's water sure, and they won't mind a little extra weight now."
They sprang into the saddles, and the horses, seeming to take it as a hint, broke into a run. They ascended a slope and saw a dark outline before them.
"Trees! Pines! Fine, good pines!" exclaimed Arenberg. "The sight iss much good!"