"I have never been beyond Date Creek in that direction," I replied.
"Is the Xuacaxélla really a desert?"
"Only in the absence of water. Grasses, cacti, and shrubbery not needing much moisture grow there. One of the geological surveys calls it Cactus Plain. It is one hundred miles long. There is water in a fissure of a mountain spur on one side called Cisternas Negras, or Black Tanks; but for the rest of the distance there was formerly no water except after a great rainfall in the depressions, a supply that quickly evaporates under a hot sun and in a dry atmosphere. A man named Tyson has lately sunk two wells thirty miles this side of La Paz."
"It was at the Black Tanks the expressman saw Texas Dick and Juan Brincos with our ponies," said Henry. "What a queer name that is—Juan Brincos, John Jumper, or Jumping Jack, as nearly every one calls him."
"He is well named; he has been jumping government stock for some years."
"I thought Western people always hung horse-thieves."
"Not when they steal from the government. They are apt to look upon army mules and horses as common property."
"Frank," said Henry, just before the boys fell asleep that night, "I felt almost sure we should recapture the ponies when I thought Vic was going; but now I'm afraid we never shall see them again."