slowly up a slope, nearly
a dozen miles on this third stage of the desert route, when a
horseman overtook us, who proved to be Mr. Gray. He slowed up,
listened to my account of our perplexities, and after saying many
hopeful and cheering things, telling us that Tyson's Wells were now
not far ahead, he galloped swiftly away in the darkness.

At midnight the road ascended to a considerably higher level and
became suddenly hard and smooth. The driver urged the team into a
series of brief and spasmodic trots, which lasted a couple of hours,
when we again descended to a lower level, where the wearily slow gait
was resumed. With the slower pace our spirits fell and our thirst
increased. As Private Tom Clary expressed it to the driver:

"In a place like this a gallon of Black Tanks water would be
acciptible without a strainer, and no reflictions passed upon the
wigglers."

"That's so, Tom," called Henry, from the depths of his blankets; "I
could drink two quarts of it--half and half."

"Half and half--what do you mean?" I asked.

"Half water and half wigglers," was the answer.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Can't sleep, sir; I'm too thirsty. Did drop off once for two or three
minutes, and dreamed of rivers, waterfalls, springs, and wells that I
could not reach."

"I've not slept at all," said Frank; "just been thinking whether I
ever rode over a mile in Vermont without crossing a brook or passing a
watering-trough."

"It's beginning to grow light in the east," observed the driver. "By
the time we reach the top of the next roll we can see whether we are
near the Wells."

"You may stop the team, Marr," said I; "we will wait for the escort to
close up."

We got out to stretch our legs, while the straggling soldiers slowly
overtook us. The man on the wounded bronco did not arrive until the
edge of the sun peeped above the horizon, and I ordered him to remove
the saddle and bridle, hitch the animal behind the ambulance, and take
a seat beside the driver.

Just when we were about to start again, Frank asked permission to run
ahead with the field-glass to the rising ground and look for Tyson's
Wells. I consented, and told him to signal us if he saw them, and that
if he did not we would halt, turn out, and send the least worn of the
escort ahead for relief.

Frank started, and presently disappeared behind some brush at a turn
in the road. An instant later he shouted and screamed at the top of
his voice. Whether he