ill nearly twenty miles away, it seemed as though the end had
come. For two days neither men nor animals had tasted a drop of water.
At the close of the second day, a slight elevation had disclosed a lake
lying at their feet, glowing in the red beams of the setting sun. With
feeble strength they had rushed to it, and flung themselves into its
tempting waters. They were as salt as brine, and, with this bitter
disappointment, came despair. They lighted fires and made coffee with
the brackish water that oozed into holes dug in the salt-encrusted sand,
but it sickened them, and they could not drink it.

Their lips were cracked, their tongues swollen, their throats like dry
leather, and their voices were hardly more than husky whispers.

As the moon rose that evening, and poured its cold light on the
outstretched forms grouped about the solitary, white-sheeted wagon, a
hand was laid on Glen's shoulder, and the chief's voice bade the boy
rise and follow him. Leading the way to the ambulance in which Binney
Gibbs slept the sleep of utter exhaustion and despair, and to which the
horses Senor and Nettle were fastened, the general said,

"There is but one hope left for us, Matherson. It is certain that some
of the party have not strength enough to carry them to the mountains,
and equally so that, without water, the teams can never reach there. In
the valleys of these mountains are streams, and on these streams are
ranches. If we can get word to one of these, the entire party may yet be
saved. I am going to try and ride there to-night, and I want you to come
with me. Our horses, and yours in particular, are the freshest of all
the animals. I have told Mr. Hobart; but there is no need of rousing any
of the others to a sense of their misery. Will you make the attempt with
me?"

Of course the boy would go; and, for a moment, he almost forgot his
sufferings, in a feeling of pride that he should be selected for such an
undertaking.

A minute later they rode slowly away, and the desert sands so muffled
the sound of their horses' hoofs that their departure was not noted by
those whom they left.

With fresh, strong animals, and without that terrible choking thirst,
that night ride over the moonlight plain would have been a rare
pleasure. Under the circumstances it was like a frightful dream. Neither
of the riders cared to talk; the effort was too painful; but both
thought of the last ride they had taken together in the cab of a
loc