“Is there no water?”
“There’s a tenaja they’re depending on. But I doubt if they find any water there now. It’s been an extra dry season.”
“A tenaja?” queried the Ad-Visor.
“Rock-basin holding rainwater,” explained the hunter. “There’s been no rainfall since August. If they find the tenaja empty they’ll, have barely enough in the canteens they pack to get them to the next water, the Tenaja Poquita, around behind the mountains and across the desert into the next range.”
“What’s the next water to that?”
“The Stream of Palms. That’s a day and a half on foot.”
For the space of a hundred oar-strokes Average Jones ruminated.
“Suppose—er—they didn’t—er—find any water in the Tenaja Poquita, either?” he drawled.
“Then they would be up against it.”
“And there’s no other water in the Pintos?”