carry a burden. It never takes long to
break up an Indian hunting-camp, for there are no carpets or stoves or
beds or pianos, and the band of Long Bear was on its way after Two
Arrows and his dog in remarkably short order.

Judge Parks and his men and all his outfit would have travelled better
and more cheerfully if they could have set out from beside a good spring
of water. As it was, the best they could do was to dream of finding one
before they should try to sleep again.

"Father," said Sile, at about twelve o'clock, "are we to stop anywhere
for dinner? I'm getting husky."

"So is everybody. Imitate old Pine; he's chewing something."

"All the men have stopped chewing tobacco; they say it makes 'em
thirstier."

"Of course it does. Try a chip or a piece of leather or a bit of
meat--not salt meat."

"There isn't anything else."

"The less we eat the better, till we get something to drink."

"We'll all die, at this rate."

"Stand it through, my boy. I hope Pine is right about his trail and
where it leads to."

He seemed confident enough about it, at any rate, and he and his
Roman-nosed mare kept their place steadily at the head of the little
column. So he was always the first to examine a hole or a hollow and
look back and shake his head to let the rest know that it contained no
water.

The sun seemed to shine hotter and hotter, and not a living creature
made its appearance upon the dry and desolate plain. Away in the western
horizon, at last, some dim and cloud-like irregularities began to show
themselves, and Sile urged his weary horse to the side of his father,
pointing at them.

"Will there be some rain?" he asked, in a dry and husky whisper.

"My poor boy! are you so thirsty as that? Those are the mountains."

Sile's mind distinctly connected the idea of mountains with that of
water, and he took off his hat and swung it, vainly trying to hurrah.

"They're a long way off yet, but we can get there. Old Pine is right."

It was wonderfully good news, but every man had been allowed to gather
it for himself. Nobody cared to say an unnecessary word to anybody else.
It was impossible to tell the horses, and the poor brutes were suffering
painfully.

"I reckon they'll hold out," said Pine; "but they'll only jest do it.
We're making the tightest kind of a squeeze."

So they were, and it grew tighter and tighter as they went on. Sile
managed finally to get up to Yellow Pine in the advance, and whisper,