rains
for a solution to the mystery.

The forms he had seen drift by had been larger than any horse. So
vague had their outlines been in the semi-darkness, however, that
beyond an impression of their great size, he had no more definite idea
of the apparitions. That they were travelling at a tremendous pace was
doubtless, for hardly had he sighted them before they vanished, and he
could not have had his head out of its shelter for more than a second
or so.

While the lad lay in the semi-suffocation of the saddle, his mind
revolved the problem, but no explanation that he could think of would
fit the case. "Might they not have been wild horses?" he thought.

But no,--these were three times the size of any horse he had ever seen.
Besides, their blotty-looking outlines bore no semblance to the form of
a horse.

But presently something happened which put the thought of the
mysterious shadows out of his mind. The wind began to abate. To be
sure, at first it hardly seemed to have diminished its force, but in
the course of half an hour or so the party could once more emerge, like
so many ostriches, from their sand-piles, and gaze about them.

Very little sand was in the air now, but it was everywhere else. In
their eyes, mouths, ears, while, if they shook their heads, a perfect
little shower of it fell all about them. The animals, too, struggling
to their feet out of the little mounds that had formed around them,
were covered with a thick coat of grayish dust. It was a sorry-looking
party. With red-rimmed eyes, cracked, parched lips and swollen
tongues, they looked as if they had been dragged through a blast
furnace.

The sky above them now shone with its brilliant, metallic blue once
more, while ahead, the sun was sinking lower. In a short time it would
have set, and, as Ralph Stetson, in a choked voice, called for "Water,"
the same thought flashed across the minds of all of them simultaneously.

If they didn't get water pretty soon, their predicament promised to be
a serious one.

An examination of the canteens showed that not much more than a gallon
remained. If only they could yet "pick up" the mesa before dark, this
would not be so serious a matter, but, situated as they were, it was
about as bad as bad could be.

"Waal," said Pete, at length, stroking the last grains of sand out of
his bleached moustache, "waal, I reckon we might as well hang fer a
sheep as er lamb, anyhow. Ef we don't hit water pur