in
that Gale had never before known a horse.

The spot of secluded ground was covered with bunches of galleta grass
upon which Sol began to graze. Gale made a long halter of his lariat
to keep the horse from wandering in search of water. Next Gale kicked
off the cumbersome chapparejos, with their flapping, tripping folds of
leather over his feet, and drawing a long rifle from its leather
sheath, he slipped away into the shadows.

The coyotes were howling, not here and there, but in concerted volume
at the head of the arroyo. To Dick this was no more reassuring than
had been the flickering light of the campfire. The wild desert dogs,
with their characteristic insolent curiosity, were baying men round a
campfire. Gale proceeded slowly, halting every few steps, careful not
to brush against the stiff greasewood. In the soft sand his steps made
no sound. The twinkling light vanished occasionally, like a
Jack-o'lantern, and when it did show it seemed still a long way off.
Gale was not seeking trouble or inviting danger. Water was the thing
that drove him. He must see who these campers were, and then decide
how to give Blanco Sol a drink.

A rabbit rustled out of brush at Gale's feet and thumped away over the
sand. The wind pattered among dry, broken stalks of dead ocatilla.
Every little sound brought Gale to a listening pause. The gloom was
thickening fast into darkness. It would be a night without starlight.
He moved forward up the pale, zigzag aisles between the mesquite. He
lost the light for a while, but the coyotes' chorus told him he was
approaching the campfire. Presently the light danced through the black
branches, and soon grew into a flame. Stooping low, with bushy
mesquites between him and the fire, Gale advanced. The coyotes were in
full cry. Gale heard the tramping, stamping thumps of many hoofs. The
sound worried him. Foot by foot he advanced, and finally began to
crawl. The wind favored his position, so that neither coyotes nor
horses could scent him. The nearer he approached the head of the
arroyo, where the well was located, the thicker grew the desert
vegetation. At length a dead palo verde, with huge black clumps of its
parasite mistletoe thick in the branches, marked a distance from the
well that Gale considered close enough. Noiselessly he crawled here
and there until he secured a favorable position, and then rose to peep
from behind his covert.

He saw a bright fire, not a cook