"Why, he hardly uttered a word."
"What does he say?" asked his father.
"Worst kind," said Pine. "He says they have been hunting northerly for several weeks. Little game, and the drought driving it all away. He doubts if we find any water between here and the mountains. Hopes to reach it by to-morrow night in the direction he's taking. The rest of his band are down there now."
"Did he say all that?" exclaimed Sile in amazement.
"You wasn't a-watchin' of him. I told him what I thought about it and what we meant to do. Tell you what, my boy, if you're to meet many redskins you've got to learn sign language. It beats words all holler."
"Well, I did see his hands and yours a-going."
"Yes, and his face and mine too, and elbows and legs. It's as easy as fallin' off a log when you once get the hang of it."
"What do you think we had better do after that?" asked Judge Parks.
"Read our own signs. Push on for water till we get some. It can't be more'n one day, now. I know just about where I am. Risk my life on it."
So they went forward, but that night had to be taken for rest and the morning found men and horses in a terrible plight. Not one drop of water had they left, and all they had been able to do for the horses and mules had been to sponge their parched mouths. They had camped near some trees and bushes, as usual, and it was just about daylight that Yellow Pine came to wake up his employer.