, however, but the
soil was hard and baked like a stone. Then they saw on their left high
but bare and desolate mountains, and soon they came to a little river of
clear water, apparently flowing down from the range. The stream was not
over twenty feet wide and two feet deep, but its appearance was
inexpressibly grateful to both. They sat down on its banks and looked at
each other.

"Ned," said Obed, "how much dust of the desert do you think I am
carrying upon me? Let your answer be without prejudice. Friendship in
this case must not stand in the way of truth."

"Do you mean by weight or by area?"

"Both."

"Answering by guess I should say about three square yards, or about
three pounds. Wouldn't you say about the same for me?"

"Just about the same. I should say, too, that we carry at least twelve
or fifteen kinds of dirt. It is well soaked in our hair and also in our
clothes, and, as we may not get another good chance for a bath in a
month, we'd better use our opportunity."

They reveled in the cool waters. They also washed out all their
clothing, including their serapes, and let the garments dry in the sun.
It was the most luxurious stop that they had made and they enjoyed it to
the full. Ned, scouting a little distance up the stream, shot a fine fat
deer among the bushes, and that night they had a feast of tender steaks.
Obed had obtained flint and steel at the Indian village, at which they
had seen the fandango, and he could light a fire with them, a most
difficult thing to do. Their fire was of dried cactus, burning rapidly,
but it lasted long enough for their cooking. After the heartiest meal
that they had eaten in a long time, they stretched out by the river,
listening to its pleasant flow. The remainder of the deer they had hung
high in the branches of a myrtle oak about forty yards away.

"We haven't got our horses," said Obed, "but we're making progress. Time
and tide will carry man with them if he's ready with his boat."

"Perhaps we've been lucky, too," said Ned, "in passing through what is
mostly a wilderness."

"That's so. The desert is a hard road, but in our case it keeps enemies
away."

They were lying on their serapes, the waters sang softly, the night was
dark but very cool and pleasant, and they were happy. But Ned suddenly
saw something that made him reach out and touch his companion.

"Look!" he whispered, pointing a finger.

They saw a dark figure creep on noiseless feet toward the