as if he would never leave off,
for he kept on pouring down horn after horn, and smacking his lips with
satisfaction.

"Ah, my lad!" he exclaimed at last, "I've drunk everything in my time,
whiskey, and _aguardiente_, and grape wine, and molasses rum, but there
isn't one of 'em as comes up anywhere like a horn of sparkling water
like that when you are parched and burnt up with thirst."

"It is delicious, Joses," said Bart; "but now had we not better go
back?"

"Yes, if we mean to be to our time; but suppose we go a little lower
down there into the plain, and try if there's anything like what the
master's hunting for in the sands."

They went down for about a quarter of a mile to where there was a smooth
sandy reach, and a cup being produced, they set to and washed several
lots of sand, in each case finding a few specks but nothing more, and at
last they gave it up, when Joses pointed to some footprints in the soil,
where there was evidently a drinking-place made by deer.

"What are those?" said Bart, "panthers?"

"Painters they are, my lad, and I daresay we could shoot one if we had
time. Make a splendid skin for little Miss. I dessay we could find a
skunk or two hereabouts. Eh! nasty? Well, they are, but their fur's
lovely."

They saw neither panther nor skunk, though footprints, evidently made
the previous night, were plentiful about the stream; and now, as time
was getting on, they sturdily set themselves to their backward journey,
Joses praising the water nearly all the way, when he was not telling of
some encounter he had had with Indian or savage beast in his earlier
days.

"Do you think we shall see any more of the Indians, Joses?" said Bart at
last.

"What, Old Arrow--in--the--arm!"

"Yes."

"Sure to," said Joses. "He's a good fellow that is. 'Taint an Indian's
natur to show he's fond of you, but that chap would fight for the master
to the last."

"It seemed like it the other day, but it was very strange that he should
go off as he did."

"Not it, my lad. He's gone to watch them Injuns, safe."

"Then he will think us ungrateful for going away."

"Not he. Depend upon it, he'll turn up one of these days just when we
don't expect it, and sit down just as if nothing had happened."

"But will he find our trail over such stony ground?"

"Find it? Ah! of course he will, and before you know where you are."

They trudged on in silence now, for both were growing tired, but just
about the