"Well, what about it?"

"If there's tons upon tons of it, how are we going to bring it away?"

"Ah, yes. I've been thinking about that," said the American dryly, "and I've settled upon this."

"Yes! What?" cried the boys eagerly.

"To find it first. It's of no use to settle how you'll cook your bird till you've caught it."

"But we couldn't expect the mules to drag tons of metal across the desert."

"Oh yes, we could, easily. We might expect a deal more than that; but they wouldn't do it."

"Get out! He's laughing at us, Ned."

"Of course I was. Here, are your governors up yet?"

"They weren't when we came out," replied Chris.

"Well, I wonder at them, I dew," said Griggs. "Sleeping, with an idea like this to think about. I never had a wink all night. Say, this is going to be a change from pruning and weeding, eh?"

"Oh, it's glorious—splendid!" cried the boys.

"Is it? Wait a bit. Now come on; you're dressed enough, ain't you?"

"Yes, quite right now."

"Then let's go and hunt up the gov'nors. I want to know whether they really mean business."

"Oh yes, they'll go," cried Chris.

"Think so?"

"I feel sure of it."

"So do I," added Ned. "My father's quite eager to go."

"Bagh!" cried Griggs. "I was afraid that after sleeping on it they'd draw back. This is good news, boys, for, oh, how tired I am of drudging on here for nothing! Come on."

There was not much need for coming on. They had not gone half-way to the big shanty before they came suddenly upon the doctor and his two friends, who met them with the customary good-morning.

"Well, Mr Griggs," said the doctor, "you've come to say that the idea of last night is wild and impossible."

"Who told you so, sir?" cried the young American.

"No one. I only came to that conclusion."

"Then you thought wrong, sir, and perhaps it was what you had made up your mind to yourself."

"Oh no, Griggs. We have decided quite the contrary. If there is any drawing back it will be on your side."

"That's right then, sir. When do we start?"

"As soon as we have settled our affairs and bought the necessary stores."

"But we shall try and find a purchaser for the plantation—of course, at a reasonable price," said Bourne. "Just about the value of what we have put into the place, the building and the tools."

"If we wait for that, gentlemen," said Griggs, "we shall never get off. But you try."

"Yes, we will try," said the doctor. "Of course it will be amongst the settlers a few miles round."

This was decided upon, and the doctor and Bourne rode off that morning, making a tour of about thirty miles from plantation to plantation, before they returned, tired out, to the evening meal, and found Griggs busy with Wilton and the boys just finishing up the task of thoroughly cleaning and oiling the firearms.

"Back again, then?" said Griggs. "Will you want my hammer and spikes, gentlemen?"

"Your hammer and spikes?" cried the doctor, wonderingly. "What for?"

"To lock up your doors and windows here, same as I'm going to do mine."

"Oh, I see," said the doctor. "Yes, I expect we shall."

"Didn't find no customers then, sir?"

"Customers?" cried the doctor querulously. "Every one wanted to sell. My impression was that not one settler we broached the subject to would have taken our plantation as a gift."

"That's about how it stands, sir," said Griggs. "They wouldn't. Why should they? It would only make them more work and less profit. You do as I do, sir—I mean, as I'm going to do: nail up the doors and shutters. I don't suppose any one would meddle with the shanty. If he did he couldn't take away the land, so it would be here all right if you ever came back and wanted it, which isn't likely, is it?"

"Not at all," said Bourne emphatically.

"Didn't say you were going gold-hunting, I s'pose, sir?" asked Griggs.

"Not exactly."

"Then some one did ask questions?"

"Everybody did," replied the doctor, "and I said we were going prospecting."

"Oh, you might have said the real thing, sir. They sneer at you as much for one as for t'other. But that don't matter. I don't know, though: if they knew as much as we know we should have the whole settlement after us; not that I should mind every one I know having a nibble at the yellow cake, but where half-a-dozen people might manage to find enough water, fifty folk would die of thirst, and perhaps tell us it was all our fault."

"Yes, the smaller our party the better, I say," said Bourne.

"Which means I'd better stop out of it, sir," said Griggs shortly.

"No, it does not, Griggs," cried the doctor warmly. "Cer-tain-ly not," added Bourne. "You will come with us, of course."

"Well, I—"

"That'll do, Griggs; no backing out," said Wilton shortly.—"Now then, what about stores?"

"I propose that two of us decide what money will be necessary, and then go over to Mainton with two mule-carts and spend it on such things as we shall want. That will take a week, including the obtaining a sufficiency of ammunition."

"Which means plenty, gentlemen, for we might be regularly besieged in our wagon, and have to beat the Injuns off."

"I don't anticipate that," replied the doctor calmly, while the boys felt their nerves tingle; "but we will be prepared. Then we shall come back—I mean those who undertake the task will come back, and that will be all that is necessary to be done, save having one or two good discussions as to the route we shall take. Then we'll start upon our wild quest."

"Wild indeed, I'm afraid," said Bourne.

"Nay! Not it," cried Griggs. "We've got plenty of time."

"And plenty of room," said Wilton, laughing.

"To be sure we have," continued Griggs. "Lookye here, I've been thinking this little bit of a job over, and it seems to me as plain as A B C."

"Indeed!" said the doctor, smiling. "How do you make that out?"

"This way. We've got the map of the part where it is."

"Certainly, and all we've got to find out is whereabouts that part lies."

"Of course: and there lies the difficulty."

"Difficulty, doctor? Not it. Now, just look here. We've got, say, three States where it's likely to be. Say, at a guess, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico."

"Oh yes, and California, Texas, and you can join on Old Mexico."

"Nay, nay; the three I said will do for a beginning. If neither of them turns out right we'll begin on one of the others. Say, we give two or three years apiece to the first lot. We've plenty of time, as aforesaid."

"Then you are going to set aside nine years of our lives to begin with, and when they are gone—wasted—begin another nine years?"

"Time won't be wasted, doctor; we shall have found out something or another."

"The question seems to me," said Bourne, "is it worth the trouble?"

"If we'd got to spend nine more years in making a fortune here, doctor, we shouldn't think the time too long."

"Perhaps not."

"Well, it wouldn't be in getting the gold, even if it took nine years, and if we're lucky it mightn't take nine months. It's all chance whether we hit on the right trail to begin with or at the last."

"It's a wild and desperate adventure," said the doctor sternly, "and only excusable on the ground that we have wasted years upon this plantation and are now in a desperate state."

"Oh, don't call it desperate, doctor. We're going on a job that's going to be full of fun. We've only got to hold together pluckily to do it. Why, it's as easy as easy."

"To go and seek blindly through three great States for the spot delineated on this rough map?" cried Bourne.

"We shan't go blindly, sir; you may depend on that. We shall keep our eyes open pretty wide," said Griggs, with a merry look at the boys. "Now, look here, gentlemen, I tell you I've been thinking all this out, and it seems to me that we can cut it all down into a small patch."

"How?" said the doctor.

"By getting rid of all the outside useless bits of the job."

"I don't understand you," cried Wilton. "Hard or easy, I've made up my mind to see the thing through; but just explain a little more what you mean, Griggs."

"That's right enough, sir; I will. Now, look here; we've got our map, or plan, or whatever you call it."

"Yes," said Bourne.

"It's not very good writing, nor yet nicely finished off, but to my mind one thing's very clear, and it's this: wherever the ruined city is it must be somewhere that hasn't been settled by emigrants and ranchers."

"Certainly," cried the doctor; "that's clear."

"Very well, then, sir; if you think a moment you'll see that you clear away thousands o' square miles of settled country at once, where we needn't go to look."

"Yes, he's right there," said Bourne. "Go on, Griggs."

"Give me time, sir. Well, then, the only parts we've got to search are those where the country's quite wild, and no one been there but Indians."

"Exactly," said the doctor.

"Then the parts we have got to search are not half so big already, being only the bad desert lands."

"Good," cried Wilton.

"Here's where the map comes in now, gentlemen," continued Griggs. "What does it say on it—what does it show?"

"Very little," replied Bourne.

"That's true, sir. I could make a better map myself; but it does show one thing, and that is that the gold city lies amongst the mountains."

"Yes, quite true," said the doctor.

"Then here you are, sir: if the gold city lies amongst the mountains it can't be any good for us to go hunting for it among the plains."

"Of course not."

"There you are, then, sir. Look, as the proper maps'll show you, what a big hunch of these three States we're going to search is marked off as prairie-land."

"To be sure."

"Then that as good as halves what we've got to go over again. We've got to make for the mountain-path always till we find those three sugar-loafy bits the poor fellow marked down. Why, neighbour, we're cutting off a lot of pieces that we shan't need to meddle with. You see, it's coming down and getting less every time we begin to work."

"There's a deal in what you say," said the doctor thoughtfully, "but the country is immense."

"So was the Atlantic Ocean, sir, when Mr Christopher Columbus set sail in his ship to find land. That was jumping right into the darkness."

"Hear, hear!" cried Bourne and Wilton together, and the boys hammered the table.

"Yes," said the doctor, more thoughtfully, "and he had nothing but a kind of faith to work on. You are quite right, Griggs; we have some grounds to go upon."

"Instead of deep water, sir," said the American, grinning.

"And you being captain of the expedition, Lee," cried Wilton, "will have a far better chance of success."

"Shall I? I don't see why."

"You will, because you'll have a smaller crew, one that will not rise in mutiny against you and want to go back."

"How do I know that?" said the doctor dryly.

"Because we promise you, to a man—and boy—eh, Chris—Ned?—that we'll stick to you to the end."

"Of course," cried the boys together; while the others said, "Hear, hear!"

"That's all very well," said the doctor dryly. "We're sitting here comfortably at this table, and in this shanty, and rough as it is we have found it a comfortable home. We've had our evening meal, and we're going to lie down for a good night's rest. But wait till some day when we're all worn out with hunger and fatigue—out, perhaps, in some thirsty desert—without a roof to cover us, and surrounded by dangers such as at the present time we cannot conceive. How will you feel then—what will you say then?"

"Never say die, father," cried Chris.

"Britons never shall be slaves," cried Ned.

"Nor Yankee Doodles neither, doctor," cried Griggs, laughing.

"I say we'll all stick to our captain like men," said Wilton warmly.

"And I that I shall clap you on the shoulder, Lee, and say, Thank goodness, we've fought through our troubles so far, and that, please goodness, we'll go on bravely to the end."

"Hah!" exclaimed the doctor, uttering a long-drawn sigh. "Yes, I find I shall be better off than Columbus, and I begin to feel that with such help I shall have a much easier task. There: we'll go. Our friend Griggs has put quite a different complexion on the expedition, and I begin to think now that all we have to do is to keep on till we find the ruined city."

"If it exists," said Bourne.

"If it exists? Oh, it must exist, if you can say that of a dead city," cried Wilton.

"The poor fellow we buried may have invented it all, being so bent upon his search, and gone crazy at last and made up that chart out of his own head."

"No," said the doctor thoughtfully. "I had the advantage of you others in being with him during his last moments, and hearing him talk calmly and sensibly to the end. He had suffered horribly from fever, and doubtless had been delirious again and again, but that chart was the work of no madman; half-an-hour's conversation with him satisfied me that he knew perfectly well what he was talking about, and, after all said and done, there is nothing preposterous in what he told me. We have had proofs enough of there being rich gold-loving nations in North, South, and Central America who built great temples—the Mexicans, the Peruvians, and the nations who have left the huge ruins in Yucatan. I do not see why there should not be another gold city and temple here."

"Here!" said Bourne dryly. "Where?"

"In the desert place among the mountains that we are going to find, my dear sir," said the doctor firmly.

"Bagh! Bagh! Bagh! Bagh!" roared Griggs enthusiastically, and the boys joined in the "tiger," as he called it.

"Don't say any more, doctor," he cried. "That's enough. I began to think you were playing fast and loose, and I said to myself, Doctor's got too much shilly-shally, willy-nilly in him to make a good leader of this expedition, but I don't now. I can see farther than I did, and that you've been weighing it all over and looking before you leaped. And that's the right way to succeed. Gentlemen, and you two youngsters, we've got a grand captain—one that can lead us and guide us, and cure us, and set us up when we're down. What more can we want? We're sure to succeed. I won't sell my share now for anything."

There was a fresh cheer at this, and the party broke up to take the necessary rest.

"Ned," said Chris, after they had been in bed a short time, "we're off."

"Yes," said Ned. "Bagh! Bagh! Bagh! as Griggs has it."

"Hush, or you'll wake my dad."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

SHUTTING UP SHOP.

"I didn't believe we ever should start," said Chris, one morning at daybreak.

"But you were wrong," said Ned, "and here's good-bye to the old place."

It was a month later, during which time the journey had been made to the nearest town, the stores and other necessaries purchased, and after preparations which had lasted till midnight, every one had declared that there was nothing else to be done, and all had lain down to sleep, Griggs included, he having decided to stay at the ranch for the last night, after bringing over his baggage and animals, and he had by a gruesome kind of choice elected to sleep in the long shed.

"Where the poor old adventurer was put," he said, "and that will make me dream about him and perhaps have some happy thoughts about the best way to go."

There were not many farewells to bid, for the settlers at the nearest plantations were scattered widely about the district, and all for the most part too much worried about their own disappointments to pay much heed to a few neighbours who were giving up and going to try their fortune elsewhere, and for the most part were ready to sneer at the restless folk who were going prospecting where, according to their own ideas, they were not likely to do half so well.

Hence it was that as soon as it was light, and while Griggs with a hammer and spikes was nailing up the last windows and the door, for which pieces of board cut to the exact size lay ready, there was not a stranger there to see them off.

It was a busy time. They had all breakfasted by the light of the out-door fire which had boiled their coffee, cooked their damper, and frizzled their bacon, and now were all hard at work loading the dozen mules that had been purchased for the purpose of carrying their baggage, and in whose management every one had taken lessons from an old mule-driver who had made many journeys into the Far West.

For there was much to learn. "Obstinate as a mule" is a good old proverb, and the party had plenty of reason for learning its truth. They had heard too of the vicious nature of these same animals. They were used as beasts of burden, and they seemed to have made up their minds to be a burden to every one there. The old Yankee, who had made many a journey with mule teams, had taught them, and taught them well, all he could about the mysteries of lasso and lariat, and the diamond-hitch; but even after a fortnight's practice it was not easy to bind the loads well-balanced upon each mule's back without getting kicked, and when this was done, the mules having been disappointed at not being able to kick anybody, mostly made desperate attempts to kick at nothing, the result of which was the loosening of the ropes so that the loads rattled and in one case went flying.

This load had been tied on by the boys, who stood looking at one another and then at the mule, which, as soon as it was free, gave its ears a few twinkles, shook its shabby tail, and then began to graze quite contentedly on some alfalfa grass, or lucerne.

"Come, boys, don't stand looking on," cried the doctor. "Try again, or we shall be waiting for you. You must put your feet against the brute's side and haul tight, as you were taught."

"We did, sir," cried Ned, who was hot and angry.

"Not tight enough, my lad. You'll soon do it better."

"Not with this one, father. It's such a beast."

"They all are, my boy," said the doctor, laughing at his son's perplexed countenance.

"I mean such a wretch, father. It's so artful. When you've got the load on all right and balanced, and there's nothing to do but tighten the lariat, the nasty, spiteful, cunning brute waits till you begin to haul tight, and then fills itself full of wind and swells itself out. Then you pull till all is as tight as tight, and fasten off the knots."

"Well, that's right," said the doctor, who looked, like the rest, wonderfully business-like and ready for the journey, in leather Norfolk jacket, knickerbockers, and cowboy's hat.

"Yes, so we thought, sir," said Ned, "till I heard the brute sigh."

"Oh, poor thing, it was because it had such a heavy load."

"No, it wasn't, father; it was because it was breathing out all the wind again, and we didn't know what it meant till we found that the load was all loose, and when we went up to tighten it the wretch wheeled round and tried to kick us, and because it couldn't it kicked itself out of its load."

"Never mind, don't waste time, Chris. I want to start. We'll halt somewhere at mid-day for a rest, and set things right. After a few days' practice we shall get on better, and all these things will come easy."

"I hope they will," said Chris, as the doctor went off to where the carefully-folded tent and its poles and stretchers were being secured to another of the dozen mules which formed their team. "But look here, Ned, old chap, I'm not going to get in a passion now; I'm going to save it up, and before long I'm going to show this gentleman which of us two is going to be master."

"Oh, nonsense! My father said that we were to break the mules in with gentle treatment. They are obstinate, he said, because they've become so used to being beaten."

"Old Dence told me that kindness is thrown away upon a mule. He said you must let go at 'em with your tongue and a good thick stick; but if when you're using it you see one lay its ears down flat and draw its lips away from its teeth and laugh, it's because you don't hit hard enough. Well, this one did."

"Yes, I saw the brute grin," said Ned.

"Well, just you wait. I'm going to save up this fellow's dose, and he shall have it some day with interest."

"He told me," said Ned, "that you couldn't drive mules without using bad language. He did—lots."

"Yes, I heard him," said Chris.

"I told my father, and he was angry and said it was all nonsense. All you had to do was to shout at the brutes loudly, and as if you were in a rage. Then he laughed, and told me what to do."

"What was that?" said Chris, rather breathlessly, for he was busy arranging the mule's load.

"He said I was to stamp and yell, and begin to decline a Latin noun to the mules."

"Oh, bother the Latin nouns!" said Chris pettishly. "Who's to think of cases when you're driving a mule? Here, come on and help. And I say, I nearly forgot."

"Forgot what? I dare say we've forgotten lots of things."

"But we mustn't forget this. We're loading the leading mule, and it's the one that wears that bell round its neck. Where is it?"

"The bell? Last time I saw it was when father hung it on one of the gun-pegs over the fire-place."

"Oh!" exclaimed Chris, "and old Griggs is just finishing nailing up the door."

"Then he'll have to un-nail it again," said Ned grumpily. "Hi, Griggs!"

There were two or three echoing raps with the hammer, and then a couple of finishing blows, before the American cried—

"Hallo, there!"

"You're nailing up the mule's bell."

"Who says so?" and there was the commencement of the driving in of another nail.

"I do," cried Ned. "You must open the door again."

Rap, rap, rap, rap, bang, bang, bang, as another nail went home.

"Can't be done."

"But we must have that strap and bell."

"Come and fetch it then. It's hanging on the hitching-up hook at the end of the house."

"Oh!" sighed Ned in a voice full of relief, and he ran to the place specified, to lift down the bell and the collar-strap, to come back ringing it loudly.

"Hoi! Hallo, there! Steady!" cried Wilton excitedly. "Don't do that."

Ned gagged the bell at once by thrusting his left hand in its mouth and holding the clapper; but the little peal he had rung had done its work of setting all the mules in motion, bringing them all up close to the ringer, who found himself in the midst of a knot of squealing and kicking brutes, who diversified their vicious play by running open-mouthed at one another to bite.

But they were all loaded at length, there was a final look round, and then a move was made for the long shed, whose big door gaped wide, and as their footsteps were heard there was a shrill neigh from within and the sound of impatient stamping.

"This looks like a start at last, doctor," said Griggs, who came up last.

"Yes, at last," said the doctor.

"Got the map all right, sir?"

"Yes, in my saddle-bag. You said you had done everything that fell to your share."

"Everything but locking up this door, sir, and here are the keys," cried the American, holding up a leather bag, in which he jingled the hammer and a few of the big nails within.

"That's right," cried the doctor. "Now then," he shouted, "every one tighten his mustang's girths a hole or two, and sling his rifle across his back before mounting. Got your revolvers, boys?"

"Yes, father—yes, sir!" came in response, and the next minute half-a-dozen rough-looking wiry cobs were being unhitched and led out through the low doorway, to stand champing their big bits, fidgeting to be mounted and given their heads for a canter.

"Every one see that his bag and blanket are all right," cried the doctor; and then Griggs' voice was heard.

"Some one take my nag's rein," he said. "Will you, Squire Chris?"

For answer the boy reached out and took hold of the strap, casting his eye over the sturdy little steed, which seemed too small to carry so tall a man as its rider.

Chris noted that there was the long hide lasso-rope curled up and hanging in its place by the saddle-bow, and that the saddle-bags were in their places, carefully strapped on, so that a tin bucket, which was also hung behind, should rest on one and not prove a nuisance to horse or rider.

Ned was close to his companion, and he said—

"I say, it would have been much better if we had kept to our old idea and had, say, three light mule-carts. What a lot of these odds and ends we could have stowed out of the way."

"I said so to old Griggs," replied Chris, and then he was silent.

"Well, what did he say?"

"Only grinned at first."

"Well, what then?"

"He said it would have taken so long and been so expensive, because we should have had to send an army of men on first to make a road all the way we were going."

"Which means he was laughing at you."

"Grinning, I call it. But I suppose he's right, because when you come to think of it, there'll be no track, and a lot of our travelling will be in and out among the mountains. There, that's the last door," said Chris with a sigh, as there was a loud bang following the creaking of hinges that had been rarely used. Directly after, Griggs' hammer came into play, making the horses restive and back away from the noise to the full extent of their reins.

"Yes," said Ned, with a sigh, "the last door. I say, Chris, now it has come to it, don't you feel a bit sorry to go away from the old place?"

"Horribly," said the boy in a low, husky voice. "What fun we used to have!"

"Yes," said Ned, "before everything got to be so dull because things failed so and made my father so low-spirited."

"He wasn't so low-spirited as my father was; but I s'pose there wasn't much difference," replied Chris, to the accompaniment of Griggs' hammer and the fidgeting of his nag. "Quiet, will you, stupid! He isn't going to hurt you."

"I say, how jolly grumpy it used to make Mr Wilton."

"Hah!" ejaculated Chris. "A year ago he was always ready for a bit of fun, fishing, snaking, squirrel-hunting, or seeking honey. But there, no wonder; he felt like father, that it was all lose, lose, lose, and that it was unfair not to be at work."

"And it took all the fun out of our games."

"Yes, no more games now, Neddy. Father said last night when we were alone that we must bid good-bye to being boys with the place—leave all that here, and begin to think of being and acting like men."

"Yes, and my father said something like that to me, Chris; and somehow now it has come to making the start I don't feel as if I want to be a man yet. It was so jolly to be a boy here in the dear old place. Oh, bother the old gold! I wish that poor old chap hadn't come here to die."

"So do I," said Chris, and his voice sounded very husky now as he gazed round him at the many familiar objects. "I say, look how my apple-tree has grown!"

"Yes, and my pear," said Ned quickly. "It has beaten your old apple all to bits."

"Well, of course it has," said Chris roughly. "Pears do run up tall and straight and weak. Apples grow stout and strong and slow."

"They've done well enough."

"Yes; but then see what pains we took to water and manure them. Nothing else has done well."

"No, nothing. As father says, it has all been like slow ruin coming on; but I like the dear old place all the same, because we helped to make it out of the wilderness into a great garden. Oh, Chris, I wish we weren't going."

"So do I, but it's of no use to go on wishing. We should have felt much more miserable when we were starting to go back to England, not knowing what we were going to do. We should have had to go, and this is going to be like a great roving holiday, seeing something fresh and new every day."

"So it will be. There, I begin to feel better now. I say, look at the sun rising—isn't it glorious!"

"Always is," said Chris cheerily. "How different it makes things look! I always feel better when the sun shines. There, good-bye, old place, if we never see you again."

"But I say, Chris, we might come back some day, you know."

"Not likely."

"Why? We might find the gold, and then come back here to live. It wouldn't matter then about the peaches and grapes and things failing."

"No; father wouldn't want the money then," said Chris thoughtfully. "I should like to come back, after all, but—"

Bing!—Bing!—Bang!

"That's done it, sir," cried Griggs, his voice ringing out cheerily in the morning air. "I'll tuck the hammer and nails in my pouch. They may come in useful. No, I can't; it's full. I'll tuck the hammer handle through my belt. Either of you youngsters got room for a few nails in your pocket?"

"I have, Griggs," cried Chris quickly, and, with something to do, the pain of the farewell to the beautiful scene came to an end.

"Ready?" cried the doctor sharply.

"Aye, aye!" came back, and the horses shuffled and spread their legs.

"Mount!" cried the doctor, and every one sprang to his saddle amidst the stamping of the mustangs' feet. "Lead on, Griggs," cried the doctor.

The American pressed his cob's sides and trotted to where the leading mule stood browsing, ready to raise its head, shaking the bell violently, and make a vicious snap at the horse's neck with its bared teeth.

But Griggs was ready for it, and threw out one of his long legs, the toe of his boot catching the mule in the cheek and spoiling the aim.

"Look here, my fine fellow," he cried, "don't you try that game again, or I'll fix a spike to the end of a stout hickory ready for lancing those gums of yours. I'm afraid you've got toothache, or you wouldn't be so ready to bite. Now then, ring up. Get on."

"Forward!" snouted the doctor; and as the mule led the way under the American's direction the whole heavily-laden team filed after, settling down steadily enough, the horsemen bringing up the rear, looking like a little detachment of irregular cavalry as they wound along the tracks through the blighted plantation, straight away for the uncultivated wilds.

"Good-bye to five years' labour," said the doctor, turning in his saddle for a last look.

"Five years' disappointment," said Wilton sadly.

"Five years of buried hopes," said Bourne slowly; but the boys were silent, neither daring to trust his voice.

"And now," cried the doctor, "for five years of unburied hope and looking forward to the future. Here, boys, you ought to give a cheer. Who'll lead?"

No one: the moments were too sad, for there seemed to be a thick black veil hanging before them right in front, and neither dared to think of what might be to come.

Onward, onward into the future, with the wilderness unseen waiting to swallow up the adventurers in the unknown way—the perils to be encountered happily hidden from them as yet.



CHAPTER NINE.

A NIGHT SCARE.

It had been decided that they should make for the farthest part known to them south and west, where the wildest country lay, and they had been twice before, Griggs having paid double that number of visits in search of game. There the cultivation ceased entirely, for the rich soil gave place to sage-brush and a far-stretching tract of salt or alkali desert, Griggs proposing that they should cross this, for after a good deal of questioning the settlers in that direction, he elicited the information that one of the settlers upon the verge of the good lands had seen a strange-looking tramp, as he called him, pass his lonely shanty one evening, but feeling no desire for any such company he had stood back among the trees, and his place had certainly not been seen by the stranger.

"That shows we should be a bit nearer where he came from," said Griggs, "and it would be a fair day's journey for a beginning. We could find a spot to camp out for the night, and start early the next morning to see if we could not cross the bad land before dark."

"How far would it be?" asked Bourne.

"Ah, that we must find out from the man who lives nearest to the edge," replied Griggs. "He's pretty sure to have been some distance into the desert shooting, and even if he doesn't know he'll be able to tell us where we can find water, for that's what we must always go by. When it's too far off for a day's journey we must take our bottles and the little casks full."

The mules soon steadied down; the day was hot, but not unpleasantly so, and after crossing a very wild patch some miles in extent they picked up a track and followed it, to come upon cultivated land again, and the track led them to a shanty built upon the bank of a river also dried into a series of pools; but as they approached the house and obtained a near inspection of the cultivated ground it became very plain that no hoe had been between the rows of fruit-trees that year, and on riding up to the shingled wood house, they found no sign of living creature—no ducks paddling in the pool, or fowls pecking about near the enclosed yard; all was still and silent. They had come upon another sign of failure, for, as far as they could see, the place had been deserted for quite a year.

"A sign that we are not alone in giving up," said the doctor; "but it will make a capital place for our first halt. Go and see what the water is like in that farthest pool, Chris. This one is nearly all mud."

Chris urged his mustang forward towards where there was a glint of water through some trees four or five hundred yards ahead, but he had not gone one-fourth of the distance before he was overtaken by Ned, who was as eager as he to see what the place was like.

They soon knew—a carefully-tended Far West estate, given up and allowed to go back to a state of nature. Fruit-trees had been planted in abundance, but as the boys got farther from the house the wild vines and weeds were gradually mastering the useful trees, and in another year or two the plantations would have lost all trace of the hand of man and be wild jungle once more.

"I dare say there'll be fish enough," said Chris. "This is a deeper pool than we generally see. I say, how sandy the ground is here!"

The next minute they realised why it was so sandy, for instead of its being a cleared track it proved to be the dried-up bed of a little sandy river, one that linked the pools together when the wet season came on.

"It looks as if no water had been along here for a twelvemonth," said Chris. "Look there."

His cob had seen the object at which he pointed first, and stopped short with its ears pricked forward to where, grey and glistening, a snake lay basking in the hot sunshine amongst some stones, but now, alarmed by the snort given by Chris's mustang, it began to glide away, passing amongst some dried-up reeds and leaves, giving forth its strange soft rattling sound with its tail the while.

"Well, we don't want to waste powder and shot on him," said Chris. "Come on," and they rode on to the edge of what proved to be a shallow lagoon some acres in extent, from which they startled a few waterfowl into flight, the ducks, as they splashed along the surface before rising, starting off other occupants of the pool in turn, a little shoal of fish darting off and raising a wave which marked their course towards the middle, where, the water growing deeper, they disappeared.

"Well," said Chris, "we know all we want to know now.—There are rattlers about, and if it wasn't for them it wouldn't be a bad place for a long halt."

"We can take care to avoid the snakes," said the doctor, "and as there is plenty of good water we'll stay here till the morning; but as we are in such good time two or three of us will ride on to see what the country's like further on. Perhaps the next plantation may have some one to give us a little information."

Camp was formed then as far as was necessary, the fairly-well-built house offering plenty of shelter, and the place round, ample grazing-ground for the beasts.

A hasty meal was made, and then Wilton and Griggs were appointed scouts, riding off and returning at sundown with the information that the plantation they were on was the farthest to be seen—all beyond was wilderness, but with nothing in the shape of high ground beyond, save in one spot where a hill or two rose faintly blue against the sky.

"Isn't it jolly!" said Ned, after they had partaken of an exceedingly muddly meal, the water being fetched from the lagoon, and the fire for boiling their coffee having been made of wood that was indisposed to burn, while no matter where they arranged the provisions it was only to have them attacked by insects, which came from under planks or stones, dropped from the rough ceiling of the decaying shanty, came flying, crawling, hopping, or with sharp raps as if they had formed part of the charge of a gun.

But it was a change. Everything was fresh, and this first start had ended the monotonous drudgery of their unsatisfactory life at the plantation.

So Ned had given his opinion that it was jolly, an idea which, now he had shaken off the feeling of depression at leaving what had for years been his home, Chris fully shared.

For the boys' spirits had risen as they rode through the bright sunny day, and they only found disappointment in one thing—the fact of being compelled to regulate the pace of their mustangs by that of the heavily-laden mules, whose rate of progress was about equal to that of an ordinary British donkey driven in from a common.

Over and over again they longed to give their sturdy, well-chosen little nags a touch with the heel to send them racing along through the dusty-looking sage-brush; but they had to be contented with plodding steadily along behind the train, save when Chris found that there was something he wanted to ask Griggs, who kept on by the leading mule and its bell, and then the question seemed to be so important and weighty that it took two boys to carry it.

The first few times the doctor had taken no notice, but after Chris had cantered forward four times to rein up on one side of the American, with Ned on the other, his father said dryly when he overtook him—

"There's a good old saying that has to do with thoughtfulness, Chris. It is this: Let your head save your heels. To apply it in this case, it should be, Save your pony's heels."

"I don't understand you, father," said the boy.

"Don't you? I only meant, the next time you want to ask about something that has been left behind, keep it in your head till you think of the next thing, and the next. You might collect half-a-dozen, and then you could go and ask them altogether. Do you see?"

"Yes, father," said Chris, who turned rather red.

"Be patient, my boy, and you'll have plenty of hard riding, perhaps more than you anticipate."

There seemed to be no necessity for the precaution so near home, but the doctor said that they had better begin as they would have to go on "when in the enemy's country," as he put it, with a smile.

"Before long we may be where there will be risk of our animals stampeding, or being stolen. Later on, when we are in the Indians' country, we shall have to guard against attack, so we will divide the night into watches."

This was before settling down for the night in and about the deserted fruit-farm.

"Oh," cried Wilton; "but surely this is being too particular. Every one is tired. We have had a very wearing day, beginning so early as we did with the packing and getting off."

"Yes," said the doctor coldly, "but the success or failure of the expedition depends upon our being punctilious. A stitch in time saves nine, my dear boy."

"But—" began Wilton, in a tone of protest.

"One moment," said the doctor. "Let me make a suggestion. We want to start early every morning for Unknownia, if you will let me coin a name for the place of our search."

"Of course," said Bourne.

"We must always break the neck of our journey by getting over a good many miles before the heat of the day sets in."

"That's good advice," cried Griggs.

"Very well, then," continued the doctor; "we don't want to waste time in lighting fires and hunting up horses and mules that have strayed no one knows where in the course of the night, do we?"

"No, of course not. I see," said Wilton. "I give in."

"The man who takes the morning watch will have breakfast ready before daybreak, and then there will be nothing to do but load up the mules and start off the moment it is light enough."

There were no dissenters from the leader's practical proposals, and he elected to take the first half of the night's watch himself, Griggs to take the second, and soon afterwards the animals were hobbled and left to graze, one of the barn-like buildings was chosen for resting-place, and those who were free from duty lay down to sleep. The two boys naturally enough made up their bed of dry sage-brush on the decaying floor of the building, and then, in response to the doctor's orders to get off to sleep at once so as to be well rested and fresh for the next day's work, they lay wide awake, talking in whispers.

To do them justice, this was no fault of theirs. They were tired enough, but their eyelids felt as if they were furnished with springs which held them wide open, to stare through the open side of the barn at the glittering stars, while their ears were all on the strain to listen to the different sounds that came from all around.

At first there was the cropping of the horses and mules, as they feasted on the fresh shoots of the abundant growth, owing to the moisture beneath the little dry river-bed having kept the coarse grasses pretty succulent. There was the hum of mosquitoes and the boom of big beetles, and every now and then the cry and answering cry of some animal unknown from out in the sage-brush. But for a time the lads lay silent, till a peculiar mournful shout, as it seemed to be, came from the direction of the lagoon, sounding so mournful and human that it was too much for Ned, who whispered—

"Awake, Chris?"

"Of course. Who's to go to sleep with millions of things getting up your legs and arms and down your neck? I wish I'd taken off my clothes. Isn't it hot!"

"Yes, yes; but did you hear that?"

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"Owl," said Chris shortly.

"I know it was a howl," said Ned, "but it was more like a shout or hail."

"Owl, owl, hunting about over the brush for young hares or rats and mice."

"Oh, of course. I never thought of that," said Ned, and he settled down quietly for a few minutes, before saying in a whisper: "I say, isn't it queer that one seems to hear hundreds of things now that one never noticed at home?"

"I don't know. Perhaps we should have heard some of these ticks and squeaks and rustlings if we had lain awake. I say, Ned, I believe all the wild things from round about are coming to see what we want here."

"Very likely. What's that?"

"What?"

"That flash of light. Is it a storm coming?"

"Pooh! No. Father threw some bits of dry stuff on the fire."

"To be sure. But I say, Chris, that's why all these insects and things come creeping up. It's the light that attracts them."

"Of course it is. I wish you'd go to sleep."

"I will as soon as I can, but you needn't be so disagreeable."

"Enough to make me. I'm tired, and you keep on talking like an old woman. Not frightened, are you?"

"Nonsense! No. Ugh!"

Ned started up, his action following the ejaculation belying his words, for all of a sudden from near at hand came a dull thud as if a heavy blow had been struck, followed by what sounded in Ned's ears like a shriek of agony. "What's that?" he gasped.

"One mule tried to bite another in the back, had a kick for his pains, and called 'Murder!' in mulese," said Chris sourly. "I say, I shall have a bed-room to myself to-morrow night if you're going on like this."

Ned was silent, for his companion's words rankled.

"Perhaps I ought to have known," he said, "but it's all so strange lying out here in the darkness."

He turned over on the other side, determined to sleep now, and he tried hard for quite a quarter of an hour, the effort seeming to make him more wakeful than ever, for his senses were all upon the strain, while as the night progressed fresh noises, some of them quite peculiar, seemed to arise. Once he started, for there was a heavy splash which in the clear air sounded quite near, but which was evidently from the lagoon; and it put to flight an idea he had been nursing up of going down to the sheet of water and ridding himself of his hot tickling clothes so as to have a good swim before breakfast. That was all over now, for that splash told of alligators swimming in the lagoon to his heated imagination. He had never heard of the reptiles existing in that part of the country, but he knew that there were plenty in the swamps farther to the south, and there was no reason why there might not be some in the wild districts into which they were plunging.

Another splashing noise succeeded, and he felt that it might have been made by a fish, and others which succeeded have been caused by waterfowl. But all idea of bathing was dismissed.

At last, after a long hot lapse of time, during which he had given many a vicious rub to the unclothed parts of his body, and turned again, feeling as if there were far too many buttons on his clothes, which instead of confining themselves to their proper duty of holding the said garments in their places, felt as if they had become animate and were engaged in treating his flesh as if it was wax and they were seals.

"Hah!" he sighed, at last, as the sounds grew apparently more dull and distant, Chris's breathing heavy and regular, and a feeling of restful ease began to pervade his being.

"Old Chris is fast asleep, and I'm going off at last. Oh, how tired, how sleepy I do—Ugh!"

He did not rub now, he dared not, and that ejaculation was like a husky sigh—very low; but it was loud enough to rouse Chris into wakefulness.

"What's the matter?" he whispered.

There was no reply for a few moments, and Chris repeated the question, adding, "Did you speak?"

"I must have been dropping off and dreamed it," thought Chris, but the next moment his name was uttered in a strange whisper.

"Yes? All right! What is it?"

"There's something on me," came back faintly.

"Well, knock it off."

"I daren't. I can't move."

"What, is it so heavy?" said Chris mockingly.

"N-no. I'm afraid it'll bite."

"A skeeter?"

"No," said Ned, more faintly. "Call to your father for help."

"What for? Here, shall I strike a light?"

"N-no. It might make it angry."

"It? It?" said Chris, with all the petulance of one who had been previously disturbed by his bed-fellow's alarms. "What is it?"

"Down by the pool—the hot sand—you know—amongst the stones."

"What! A snake?" whispered Chris, alarmed in turn now, and feeling the cold perspiration breaking out on his temples.

"Yes—a rattler."

"Look here, you boys," said a stern voice, in a whisper from close at hand, "I begged you to—"

"A light, father! Be careful!" gasped Chris, and the next moment there was a sharp scratching sound, a flash, and a pale light played over the recumbent figures.

"Now then, what is it?"

"Oh, it's gone now," groaned Ned. "I felt it glide off when you struck the match, sir."

"Leap off, you mean," said the doctor. "Rats don't glide."

"Oh, it wasn't a rat, sir," said the boy faintly. "It was a rattler."

"Nonsense! Not here."

"Yes, sir; they swarm. Chris and I saw a big one down in the river-bed this afternoon."

"Pooh!" cried the doctor. "But this is your bed, not the river's. It is not likely that one would be here. If there were any about, they'd be a deal more likely to favour me by the fire. You've been dreaming, my boy."

"Oh no, sir. It was too horribly real."

"Real enough, but some little animal—a mouse, more likely," said the doctor, putting out the second match he had lit most carefully. "Look here, have you boys got matches?"

"Yes, father."

"Be careful how you use them, then. This place is as dry as tinder. Now then, go to sleep."

He backed out of the place, and the boys lay listening to the rustle and crackle of his departing steps.

"Think it was—not a snake, Chris?" said Ned, at last.

"Yes. If it had been a rattler father wouldn't have gone off like that. You didn't feel it crawl, did you?"

"Yes, right up in my chest, and I bore it till I felt it touch my neck, and then—Oh, it was a horrid sensation!"

"Yes," said Chris slowly, "a horrid sensation, but it wasn't a rattler. I say, think you can go to sleep now?"

"I'm going to try. But, I say, I never thought that sleeping out in the wilds—"

"We haven't got to the wilds yet," said Chris.

"No, no; but this is bad enough."

"Pooh! We shall get used to it, and think nothing of sleeping anywhere. I say, I was asleep, and you woke me out of a beautiful dream—such a lovely one."

"Did I?" said Ned, rather uneasily. "What was it?"

"I dreamed that we had found the place just as it is on the map, and you couldn't put your foot down anywhere without treading upon gold; and then your rattlesnake came and spoiled it. Here, I'm going to sleep again to finish that dream. Can't you go now?"

"I'll try," said Ned, who felt horribly ashamed about his false alarm.

But it took no trying. Five minutes later both boys were sleeping soundly after this initiation in what they would have to encounter during their wild journey.



CHAPTER TEN.

ON THE WAY.

Ned was ready to laugh at his scare when riding forward in the sunshine of a brilliant morning. He had been awakened by Griggs with a cheery hail, to find the cool damp air of morning impregnated with the agreeable odour of coffee fuming away over the embers of a crackling fire which showed up the browsing animals here and there in the darkness. Then came a hearty breakfast, over which the day's proceedings were discussed, and the doctor's decision accepted that they could not do better than strike right away in the direction of the hill seen the previous afternoon, making that their observatory for deciding future proceedings.

"Our plan of campaign is simple enough," he said; "we must avoid all traces of civilisation, and keep to the wilds. The rest lies with chance and good fortune."

It was only beginning to get light when all set to loading up the mules, to find it nearly as hard a task as before; but it was mastered, a sharp lookout given round to make sure that nothing was left behind, and then the order was given, "Forward!" Griggs led off once more, with the biting mule's bell jingling, and the low brush, wet with dew, giving out a peculiar rustling as it was trampled down or passed through, the direction of the hill being determined by compass, the result of their leader's observation taken the day before.

But soon after the darkness grew grey, there was a faint band visible in the heavens which gradually broadened, trees started into view to right and left, and after progressing some distance in silence, Chris and Ned, who had taken up their positions on starting right and left of Griggs, began to find their tongues and make remarks about the faint streaks of orange colour which lit up the zenith. Soon after it was as if the coming light of day was illumining them as well as the landscape, and they ended by asking questions and then talking loudly about what had passed in the night.

Griggs was ready enough to reply in a bantering, boyish spirit in response to one of Chris's questions.

"Yes," he said; "your dad roused me up out of about the most delicious sleep I ever remember to have had. Oh, it's just grand sleeping out in the open. You have so much room to breathe."

"Why, you slept in the house place the same as we did," cried Ned. "I saw where you lay down."

"Likely enough, but you didn't see me get up again. It was too hot and stuffy in there, with things creeping into your hair and ears. I soon got up and shook them off so as to go and pick a place near where the doctor was watching, so that he should know where to find me. Then I lay down on one of nature's own spring mattresses, made by spreading a blanket over the sage-brush, and the next minute I was asleep."

"But suppose there had been a rattler under where you lay down?" cried Ned.

"Well, then he'd have just had time to take one bite at the blanket and fill his teeth full of wool before I'd squeezed him flat. I weigh nigh upon twelve stone, horseman's weight, and that would have taken all the music out of his tail if he'd been there. But don't you make any mistake about those gentlemen; they've an ugly way of biting if they're obliged, but from what I know, the first thing a rattler does when he hears feet coming is to take himself away somewhere so that no one shall tread on his music."

It was then that Chris annoyed his companion by relating the night alarm, though Ned was ready enough to join in the laugh against himself.

"Say," said Griggs suddenly, as they passed a clump of trees standing like an island upon a little elevation above the monotonous plain which had succeeded the oasis where the fruit-farm lay in the solitude, and he pointed off to his left.

"Say what? Can you see anything?" asked Chris.

"Yes; ain't that the hill we've got to make 'smorning?"

"Yes; of course," cried Chris, shading his eyes from the level sunbeams.

"Then we're leaving it too much to the left."

The opinion was endorsed before anything had been done, by an order from their leader, who had been using his glass, and now shouted from the rear that they should bear off to the left and then make straight for the elevation dimly-seen like a low cloud in their front.

"Our boss is going to keep us all up to the mark, and no mistake," said Griggs, "only I hope he's going to play fair with us."

"Why, of course he will," cried Chris indignantly.

"I don't know," said the American, with a curious smile about the corners of his lips and a twinkle in his eye. "I don't think he was quite square in the night."

"Why not?"

"Well, you see, he had to rouse me up to relieve him about midnight, when I was in such a beautiful sleep that it was a sin to break it, and what does he do but snap it in two about an hour before he ought."

"I don't believe he would," cried Chris.

"No, you don't, because he's your father. He ain't my father, and so I believe he did."

"But did you look at your watch?"

"Nay, but I felt as if his must have been an hour too fast if he looked at it and found it twelve o'clock. Say, we might as well let watches take their chance now, and trust to the sun. He don't want any winding up, and we shall have plenty to do without seeing to keys and that sort of thing."

"I shall keep mine wound up," said Chris decisively.

"So shall I," cried Ned. "We don't want to turn savages because we are going into the wilds."

"Just as you like, squires, but you'll do more good, I say, by being sure to wind up your revolvers and setting your rifles ready to strike one or two when they're wanted. I say, we must talk to the boss about having some shooting if we see a chance."

"There's one then for the shot-barrel," cried Chris excitedly, as he pointed to a hare—a jack-rabbit, as they called it—just startled by their animals' feet, and bounding away as hard as he could go.

"Nay, we're not going to waste powder and shot upon those things. I don't like that bitter sort of meat."

"They are bitter," observed Ned. "My father says it's because they eat so many of the artemisia shoots."

"Eh? What shoots?" cried Griggs.

"Artemisia—this stuff we're riding through."

"Oh, the sage-brush! Well, p'r'aps it is, but I allus thought it was from swallowing so much alkali dust. Regular soda plain, this."

"What are we likely to find farther on, Griggs?" said Chris, after that gentleman had been remonstrating a little with the bell-mule for trying to bite Ned's mustang, the said remonstrating being performed with the butt of his rifle, which had to be applied hard upon the vicious animal's head.

"What are we likely to find to shoot?" replied Griggs, with a satisfied grunt, for the mule was plodding steadily on again. "Well, Indians."

"But we can't eat them," cried Chris, laughing.

"No, my lad; I should say buck Indian would be as tough as his own teepee [skin lodge, hut, or tent]. Matter o' taste, though, I s'pose. No cannibal that I ever heard of in our family."

"No nonsense, Griggs," said Ned. "What are we really likely to find?"

"The gold if we're lucky," said the American dryly.

"I mean, what are we likely to shoot for the pot?"

"All depends how far south we get, and whether we come into woods and mountains. If we strike them we may drop upon a flock of gobblers now and then."

"What! Turkeys?"

"Yes."

"Splendid!" cried the boys in a breath. "But do you really think we shall find them?"

"Like enough; if we're far enough away from settlements and Indians."

"But if we don't find turkeys, what then?" asked Chris.

"I dunno. We're going into the wildest parts we can find, places that haven't been hunted over. We might come upon buffalo or a deer now and then. All depends upon our getting into quite lonely spots. But there you are," continued the speaker, pointing with his piece, and then administering another punch to the mule, who was beginning to smile previous to making a bite.

"What are you pointing at?" asked Ned.

"Can't you see those birds skimming along just over the brush, my lads?"

"No," said Ned.

"Yes," cried Chris. "I see them—partridges."

"Something of that kind. Prairie hens, or cocks. They're good to eat sometimes."

"Of course; we've often had them."

"Here, I must cut a good thick cudgel first chance on purpose for this lovely playful insect here. We ought to christen him Mosquito. He's always trying for a bite out of something—hungry beggar. I say, dessay he wouldn't mind trying a bit of Indian."

"Give him another punch with your rifle."

"No!" cried Griggs emphatically. "Never again. I did that idiotic thing twice over before I thought what a fool I was towards myself, and teaching you two lads at the same time."

"How? What do you mean?"

"Doing what is sure to mean an accident some day. Can't you see, one holds by the barrel and reaches down the butt?"

"Of course."

"Well, some day that means jarring the rifle off and sending its charge into you who hold the barrel. Never try such a thing, whatever you do. It's the work of an idiot, my lads. A man that does such a thing oughtn't to be trusted with a gun."

"Then we ought to take Mr Nathaniel Griggs' rifle away from him, Ned," said Chris, with mock seriousness.

"Ah, you may laugh, my lads, but I deserve it," said the American seriously. "It gave me a cold shudder just now when I thought of what a mad thing I had done. There's more fooling about with guns than people think. Every now and then a donkey comes into a room, sees a gun, picks it up, and presents it, saying to some one, 'I'll shoot you,' and pulls the trigger, bringing some poor fellow down. If ever you see any one aim at a person with a gun, knock him over, and save accident. A poor boy or girl is shot, and then the idiot says, 'Oh, I didn't know it was loaded!' It oughtn't to have been, but at such times guns generally are. I don't know how many accidents of that kind I've heard of. We're always going to be carrying our pieces on this journey, and never ought to have one out of our hands, so we should be the more careful. I don't want to be buried out here in the desert, nor yet go home again without a head. What would be the use of the gold to me then?" he added, with a dry chuckle.

"Ah, what indeed?" said Chris seriously. "But don't talk about it. I say, when you were keeping watch in the night, did you hear or see anything?"

"Didn't see much, but I seemed to hear a good deal that was a bit strange."

"What?" asked Chris eagerly.

"Oh, I don't know; creepy sounds in the black darkness under the trees, and splashings in the big pool, just as if it was full of six-foot alligators waiting for something or some one to eat."

"I heard that," said Chris; "but it was only fish."

"Like enough, my lad. I never heard of any 'gators in these parts. Hallo! That was something.—Nearly had me off."

"A snake!" cried Chris, for Griggs' mustang had suddenly plunged, bounding sidewise with a jerk to its rider which nearly sent him out of his saddle.

"Rattler, I expect; nearly trod on him. Isn't bitten, or he wouldn't go on so quietly," added the American, turning in his saddle to look back at the trampled track they had made through the brush, but nothing was to be seen.

"Oughtn't we to ride back and warn the others?" said Chris.

"No need, my lad; that gentleman, if he was a rattler, has gone to earth fast enough, and won't show himself till we're gone. Yes, I don't think my nag was touched. I shouldn't like that. Deal rather Master Skeeter here got it. A bite would make him smile and look more handsome than he does now."



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

NED SEES SOMETHING.

"No luck yet, Griggs," said the doctor, riding up to the head of the little caravan one morning, after many, many days of travel since the party made its first plunge into the unknown, untraversed wilds, to keep trudging on at the rate dictated by the mules, which, laden as they were, could not be hurried. Sometimes when the track they made for themselves was easy and level a good many miles were got over; at others the hindrances seemed to multiply, and Griggs laughingly said it never rained but it poured, and then the tale of miles traversed became very few at the end of the day.

But the American worked harder than any one, and always with unfailing good-humour. There were times when he seemed to be furious, raging out in language especially his own, the vocabulary being wonderful, the names he called astounding in their fluency, novelty, and peculiarity; still the objects of these displays of temper were never his fellow-travellers, but the mules, and as soon as he had roared himself hoarse he stood wiping his perspiring face, smiling contentedly, to say to one, the other, or both of the boys, "I feel a deal better for having got rid of all that nasty stuff. It kinder eases my mind, youngsters, and now look at 'em," he continued, pointing at his obstinate charges; "see how nicely they go. Don't you ever tell me that mules have no brains. Look at Skeeter, how he's listening to my voice, and you wait a moment and you'll see him begin working those ears of his about. There, do you see? That's his way of telegraphing his opinions about what he has heard to all the rest. There's a deal more in mules than people think."

Be this right or wrong, the baggage-carrying animals did their best when Griggs was near them, and a few absurd words from his powerful lungs stopped kicking, biting, and squealing when a revolution seemed to be on the way, and a fight of heels had begun, to the imminent risk of disaster to the packs.

"No luck yet, sir?" cried Griggs, when the doctor had spoken on that particular morning. "Why, I was just thinking how lucky we had been."

"How?" said the doctor, and the boys pricked up their ears to listen to the conversation.

"Haven't lost a mule; always got over some of the ground to bring us nearer to the place we're looking for; and the way in which we are enjoying ourselves in this compound frolic of a picnic is wonderful."

"Enjoying, eh? Well, I'm glad you take it so."

"Oh, I think we're been wonderfully lucky, seeing what might have happened."

"Do you hear, boys?" said the doctor. "That's the spirit to take our journey in. But look here, Griggs, we've been trenching too much on our stores, and that's bad."

"The mules don't think so, sir," said the American, laughing; "but as we can't buy fresh, going on in this way, perhaps we had better be on the lookout a little more for the pot, and leave the stores as much alone as we can."

"Yes," said the doctor. "I say, don't let anything eatable go by. By the way, you're deviating a little from the course we laid down this morning."

"Just a little, sir," replied Griggs. "It was Skeeter's doing."

"Oh, I did not know that the mule took the lead."

"He doesn't always, sir, but sometimes he stops short, lifts up that muzzle of his, lays his ears flat down, and sings one of those pleasant little airs of his; and when he does that I've noticed more than once that it means he smells water somewhere. So this time when he snapped at a fly trying to lay eggs in his skin, and bore off a little to the left, I didn't interfere."

"But the lookout forward does not seem promising," said the doctor, raising his double glass to his eyes and sweeping the horizon.

"No, sir, it looks like warm stuff out of the kegs to-night, and none to spare for a wash."

"I'm afraid so," said the doctor, closing his glass and drawing rein so as to let Wilton and Bourne close up. "Tired, Chris—Ned?"

"Oh no," they replied.

"It's soon in the day yet, father," added Chris.

"That seems a pity about the water, Griggs," said Ned, as they rose slowly on. "Oh how I should like a good swim in a clear river!"

"Wouldn't be amiss; but when you can't get beef, mutton ain't bad."

"I knew that," said Chris dryly.

"But you don't seem to know that when you can't get plenty of water for bathing, nice clean sand isn't a bad thing for a good dry wash. It's better without soap too."

Chris laughed.

"Ah, you may grin, but it's a nasty habit, I think, that of rubbing grease turned into what you call soap all over your skin. Look yonder on that patch of sand," he continued, pointing, for his keen eyes seemed to miss nothing.

"Snakes!" cried Chris, bringing his rifle sharply round.

"Nay, nay, don't shoot. What's the good? You might scare something better."

"Better!" said Ned, with his upper lip curling up and the corners of his mouth going down.

"Yes; I don't care about snake," said the American dryly, "but I hev heard that some of the Injuns cut the rattlers' heads off and roast them in wood-ashes, and that they're uncommonly good."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Ned.

"Yes, that's just how I feel, my lad," continued Griggs, in his calm, dry manner. "I'm like that countryman of mine who was hard up for tuck, out in the backwoods, and when some one asked him afterwards how he managed to live, he said he shot and cooked the crows."

"Horrid!" cried Ned.

"Yes, that's what t'other one said; and then he says, 'But surely you don't like crows?' 'No,' says the first one, 'I don't kind o' hanker arter them.' It's the same here, I don't kind o' hanker arter snake; but it's all a matter o' habit."

"Oh, ugh!" cried Ned.

"Ah, you may say ugh, but it all depends; when a fellow's hungry he's got to eat something, and I don't see why a snake shouldn't be as good to eat as an eel."

"But they're poisonous," cried Chris.

"Only in the head, and it's easy to cut that off. Now, look yonder; there lie four fine fat rattlers, fast asleep on that patch of sand. We're not exactly short of food, but a little extra would be very useful, and as rattlers are so plentiful it seems almost a pity that we can't make them good to eat, and knock over all we come across."

"How can you talk in that horrid way, Griggs!" cried Chris, with a shudder.

"I don't see nothing horrid about it. Snake's a nice clean enough sort of thing; and, as I say, it's all a matter of habit. They tell me frogs are delicious, but I'd as soon eat snake."

"Reptiles! Ugh!" cried Ned.

"So's turtle reptile," said Griggs. "Nasty-looking thing too. Might just as well eat alligator. I've a good mind to get down and cripple two or three of those rattlers, so as to try how they eat."

"No, no, don't!" cried the boys in a breath, and before the others grasped what he was about to do, Chris pulled up, slipped off his mustang, gathered up a handful of small stones, and sent a shower amongst the sleeping reptiles.

In an instant there was a scattering of sand and a rush for safety, the snakes taking refuge amongst the brush around, leaving not a sign of their presence.

"There goes dinner for six," said Griggs dryly. "I say, there's plenty of those creeping gentry about here."

"Almost the only inhabitants," said Chris. "Well, if we do have to come to eat 'em, perhaps we shall get monuments set up to us in our honour for introducing a new kind of useful food of which there's plenty being wasted in the far west. Pity they're so small. They'd shrink too in the cooking. Why, a hungry man would be able to polish off one easy."

"Do you want to make me ill, Griggs?" said Ned, shuddering.

"Certainly not, my lad."

"But I say, Griggs," cried Chris, "how big do those things grow—how long were the largest you ever saw?"

"Oh, they don't come quite up to boa constrictors. Let me see, the largest I ever saw measured was—was—"

"Twenty-five feet?"

"Nay, nay, nay, not quite as long as that, but quite six feet, which is bigger than I like, after all. Most of 'em's little, like those. Dangerous sort of things, and don't the horses and mules understand! Don't catch them going near a rattler if they know it."

"My nag has shied four times this morning at the poisonous brutes," said Chris.

"Seems to me," said Griggs, "that they like this part of the country. I'd be pretty careful about walking about when we get down. It'd be as well to ride about a bit when we stop for camping, so as to scare the beggars away. We don't want to get bitten."

But from that time, oddly enough, they saw no sign or trace of the reptiles. The sun grew hotter and hotter, but neither in sandy level nor rugged stony patch was a snake seen basking. Nothing was visible but lizards, and they disappeared when the doctor called a halt in the most rugged part of a stony waste where there was an overhanging cliff and a broken gully which promised at a distance to be the home of a spring; but though it had evidently been at one time a pool overhung by rocks, there was not a trace of moisture. It afforded a little shelter, however, in an overhanging part where there was a rugged projecting shelf, and there being nothing better, the halt was made there, only to prove too hot a one for endurance, the rocks seeming to glow, and keeping off such air as was astir as well as the sun; so after a short time the doctor decided to go on once more in search of some more likely place.

In those hot, weary hours the elasticity and cheerfulness of the boys died away. In the early morning it had been all laugh and chat and notice of everything they passed that seemed novel, but with the coming of noon quite a change came over them, and Ned took to sighing from time to time, then to murmuring, and at last after a long, low expiration of the breath—

"Oh dear," he cried, "I am getting so tired of this!"

"Well, you are a fellow!" grumbled Chris. "Only an hour or two ago you talked as if you liked it."

"Ah, I wasn't so hot and fagged out then. It gets so jolly monotonous. Here we go on, ride and tramp, ride and tramp, day after day, seeing nothing but sand and sage-brush, sand and sage-brush. Always tired, always being scorched by the sun till one's giddy, and—"

"Here, father!" cried Chris, but without turning his head.

"What are you going to do?" said Ned, in a hurried whisper.

"Call father up, for you to grumble to him."

"Nonsense!" whispered Ned. "Don't be a stupid donkey. Can't I say a word or two without you wanting to tell tales?"

"I don't want to tell tales; I want for you to tell father yourself. You talked as if you had had enough of it, and wanted to go back."

"Who wants to go back?" cried Ned angrily. "Nice thing if one can't say what one likes about one's feelings! I only said what I did because I was hot and tired, and it is so tiresome, one day just like another, and not a bit of adventure to go through. Why, I expected no end of fun in that way—I mean, no end of excitement."

"Do you understand what he means, Griggs?" said Chris. "I think you've upset him by talking about cooking and eating snake."

"It wasn't that," said Griggs. "He must have got out of bed the wrong way this morning."

"Yes; a nice sort of bed! Nothing but rough sage-brush, crumbling up as soon as it's moved, and looking like so much gritty imitation tea."

"Same sort of bed as we had, squire, and we don't grumble. Why, you're not half a fellow. Like to go back perhaps?"

"That I shouldn't!" snapped out Ned, so suddenly that his mustang started and had to be checked and soothed. "Can't a fellow speak? I don't want to grumble, but it is so monotonous."

"You said that before," cried Chris banteringly.

"I know, Clevershakes!" retorted Ned. "And now I say it again. I've as good a right to speak as you have. If you don't like the word monotonous, I'll say dull and stupid. It's ride and walk, ride and walk."

"And walk and ride, walk and ride," said Chris, imitating his old companion's words and tones. "No adventures—nothing to see."

"Not even a rattlesnake," said Griggs softly.

"Look here, Mr Griggs," snapped out Ned, "I wish you wouldn't keep interrupting me when I'm speaking. It's precious rude."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Griggs politely.

"Well, don't do it again," said Ned shortly.—"Phew! How hot it is! I'm sure it's ever so much hotter than it has been before."

"Much," said Chris, with his eyes twinkling, but he looked straight before him. So did Griggs, and Ned went on—

"It's just as if the sand got to be red-hot and all the heat was reflected back in one's face. I wouldn't care, though, only it's so dull and monot—dreary!" the boy snapped out, looking sharply from one to the other as if to see whether another remark was about to be made respecting his repetition; but neither of his companions moved a muscle of his face, and he went on murmuring in the same irritable way—

"There seem to be no fish to catch, no birds to shoot. I wouldn't have believed that there could have been so much miserable desert if I hadn't seen it. I quite thought that by this time, after getting right away from all settlements and into the wildest of the wild country—"

"What!" said Griggs sharply. "Oh, nonsense! Wildest of the wild? Why, this is nothing to what we've got to come. We haven't seen a regular good mountain yet."

"No, nor yet a wild beast. I thought we should have had plenty of adventures with them by now."

"Oh, that's what you mean, is it?" cried Griggs, with mock seriousness, giving Chris a peculiar look at the same time, as if asking him to back up any assertions that he might make. "You expected that we would spend half our time shooting lions and stalking tigers?"

"Yes," said Ned, passing his hand over his eyes and shaking his head, as if the heat had made him sleepy and giddy. "No, no!" he added hastily. "Of course I know that there are no lions and tigers here. You're laughing at me."

"Well, it's enough to make a cat laugh to hear you go on finding fault, when here we are in a regular wonderful country, such as I should never have expected to find so soon. Of course I know that it wouldn't do for a plantation, but here we are, just at the beginning of rising ground, and a mile or two further we shall be all amongst rocks and stones, and, for all we can tell, we shall come upon the sugar up yonder among those mountains rising up as if they were growing out of what was a plain."

"Sugar? What sugar?" said Ned, staring.

"Well, the gold amongst the three sugar-loaf mountains shown on the chart."

"I only wish we could find it," said Chris.

"Well, have patience, and the more patience you use up the more you'll want. We shan't find the gold without."

"But I'm like Ned," said Chris thoughtfully; "I think as he does, that it does seem wonderful that there should be such a lot of regularly useless land in the world. Look at this: as far as we can see it's so salt and dry that nothing will grow. Stones and sand, and sand and stones, and all of no use at all."

"Who says so?" said Griggs coolly.

"Why, I do; you heard me."

"Yes, you say so, but what do you know about it? You say it's of no use because it's of no use to you; but you know nothing at all about what may be underneath all this sand and stone."

"Nothing at all; not even water," cried Chris.

"You don't know. There may be gold or silver or lead, tin or copper, or some of those minerals that chemists and such folk use. I don't like to hear you grumble, my lad, about things when you've only just looked and not tried. What about precious stones—diamonds and rubies?"

"Or pearls perhaps," said Ned, with a sneer.

"Yes, or pearls," said Griggs, and the boys both burst out laughing heartily.

Ned's tide of ill-humour had turned.

"Got me?" said Griggs gravely. "I say, you are clever ones!"

"Well, I like to hear you make a blunder sometimes, Griggs. You often have the laugh at us; now we've got one at you."

"Yes, you are clever ones," said the American grimly, "but you're wrong this time. You're both grinning and looking at one another as much as to say, Hark at old Griggs! He's forgotten that pearls come out of oysters and oysters live in the sea."

"Of course," cried the boys together.

"Yes, of course, and I don't know that there mayn't be fossil oyster shells somewhere about here with pearls still in them. I've seen shells sometimes looking quite pearly inside though they've been buried in rock no end of time. You didn't hear your father say only day before yesterday that all this salt desert land must at one time have been the bottom of the sea. What do you say to that?"

"Oh!" said Chris thoughtfully, and Ned pushed his broad-leaved hat a little on one side so as to scratch his ear.

"You're right, though, after all, about lions and tigers, and so was I. Only they're American lions and tigers—pumas and jaguars, and pumas without any manes, and jaguars with spots instead of stripes. Wait a bit, and we shall come upon some of them. Not here, though; it's not likely sort of country for them, but there's mountain land yonder piled-up higher than we shall be able to take our mustangs and mules. We shall find watercourses soon, and that means trees and grass and quite a different climate. The sort of place where we're quite likely to find Uncle Ephraim at home."

"What, grizzly bear?" cried Chris excitedly.

"That's the gentleman," replied Griggs; "and as like as not after crossing a ridge or two we may come upon buffalo."

"What, in the mountains?"

"Perhaps. More likely in the plains. There, don't you chaps grumble any more. Your fathers have got quite enough to think about without having to talk to you about being a little more plucky and patient."

"Yes, I know," cried Chris, wincing; "we're only grumbling to you."

"Oh, then I don't matter?"

"Not a bit. You're such a good-tempered, patient chap, and you seem like one of us. But I say, Griggs, do you really think we are going to find a change in the country soon?"

"Certain."

"Oh come, that's better! We have had enough of sand and sage-brush, and we do want a regular change."

"You'll get it, then, and I dare say before night. Can't you see that we're on the slope of the mountains now?"

"No, not a bit of it."

"But we are; just slowly rising, and by night we shall find that we are in quite a different place, hundreds of feet higher than where we had breakfast this morning."

"Well, I hope you're right," said Chris.

No more was said then, the two boys sometimes riding, sometimes walking, till after some hours Griggs pulled up, to point to the fact that they had reached what seemed to be the summit of an enormous land-wave heaved up and rising for miles either way across the desert, but right in front descending slowly into a vast hollow plain which glistened in its desolation as if frosted with silver.

"Why, it must be silver," cried Ned enthusiastically.

"Nay, nay, only salt, my lad. Looks like a dried-up lake."

"Yes; where's your herd of buffaloes?" cried Chris. "Oh, shouldn't I like for us to shoot one and have some beef!"

"Yes; buffalo hump isn't bad," said Griggs. "It's rich and tender and gravyish."

"But where is it?" said Ned.

"Higher up, I suppose, where there's prairie-land and grass. You don't expect to see buffler where there's nothing to graze on, do you? Look at the stones, though. Regular rocky ridges rising up one above the other on the other side of that frosty lake part. Shouldn't wonder if we found something fresh there."

He pointed to his left, where there was a manifest change in the scenery as seen through the shimmering haze which hindered the view.

"Yes," he cried eagerly, "if you look hard you can just get a glimpse of a great ridge, and just beyond—ragh! There are the mountains at last!"

"I can't see them," said Chris thoughtfully. "Are they near?"

"No; but near enough for us to reach to-morrow night."

"But what about to-night? I say, that isn't salt. I can see it glittering quite plainly; it's water."

"No, my lad; no water there. I wish there was," added Griggs to himself.

"Then what are we to do for water to-night?"

"There'll be enough to make our tea."

"But the horses and mules?" said Chris.

"We must try and find a hollow with some shrubby stuff that they can chew, poor beasts, for they'll get nothing else. What are you pointing at, squire?"

Ned made no answer, but sat fast where he had checked his pony, pointing to where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heavy grey stones lay scattered widely about over the sandy slope.

"Well, I can see them; stones, looking as if a mountain had crumbled all away in an earthquake, or in some volcanic explosion which had shattered it all to pieces."

"No, no," said Ned huskily; "not there. More to the left. It is that tree I mean."

"Tree? There's no tree there."

"Yes, that great one that was turned over in the earthquake, and all of the trunk and top buried in the stones."

"I say, my lad," said Griggs anxiously, "has the heat been too much for you?"

"Yes, it made my head ache."

"That's it, then. Made you fancy you can see a tree upside down."

"'Tisn't fancy," said Ned huskily. "I can see plain enough, but it isn't natural. It's all alive, and the roots are twisting and twining about as if the tree was alive and in pain."

"Here, don't stare at it. Shut your eyes for a bit, my lad. I'll take your mustang's rein."

"But I must look at it," cried Ned excitedly. "I can't help it. Horrid! Here, you two are not looking the right way."

"I'm looking at you, my lad," said Griggs kindly.

"And so are you, Chris. Don't—please don't. Look there; I want you to see what it means."

"Ugh!" gasped Chris, as he turned his eyes in the direction pointed out by his companion, and that which he saw then was evidently seen now by his nag, which started violently, and but for the tight hand the lad had upon the rein it would have dashed off.

"Here, have you got it too?" cried Griggs. "There, sit still till the water-kegs come up, and you must have a drink apiece. The sun has been too much for you, and—"

He said no more, but sat staring in one direction with his mouth wide open and his eyes seeming ready to start out of his head.

"Hallo, here! hallo!" cried the doctor, cantering up, closely followed by Wilton and Bourne, leaving their position in the rear unguarded. "What's the matter—the boys taken ill?"

"Snakes," cried Griggs hoarsely. "Look yonder."

Griggs' words were unnecessary, for the doctor's eyes had lighted upon the extraordinary sight that had startled Ned into his wild announcement.

The next moment his companions had grasped the phenomenon, and had hard work to keep their mounts from dashing frantically away.

For about a hundred yards from them, half-hidden among the stones, was something which pretty well warranted Ned's comparison to a tree turned wrong way up, so that only its roots were visible above the ground, the object being, in fact, a monstrous knot of hundreds of snakes twined together as if they were all engaged in the attempt to get their heads into the centre of the tangled mass which, all in motion, heaved and sank and rolled from side to side, the lower portions of the serpents' bodies and their tails being free to lash and writhe about in the air, while at a second glance the spectators began to realise the fact that all around, gliding in and out amongst the stones, were hundreds upon hundreds more of the reptiles, apparently urged on by some savage instinct to form other knots, till the whole of the hollow in front seemed to be alive with the loathsome creatures.

"Did you ever see anything like this before, Griggs?" said the doctor, who was the first to speak.

"Never, sir; but an old gold prospector once told me that he had seen just such a sight, only I put it down to being a yarn told to cram me."

"But they're not poisonous—not rattlesnakes, surely?" said Bourne.

"They surely are," cried Wilton. "Hark! Can't you hear? It's like a dull thrilling sound. Here, I don't want to be the first to run, but I can't stand this; I'm off."

"We'd better all be off," cried the doctor. "Here, Griggs, head round your bell-mule and let's get away. You seem to have led us right into the empire of snakes. Quick, look alive, or the poor brutes will be right amongst the reptiles."

"Not they, sir; they smell 'em now. Come and help, or we shall have a stampede."



CHAPTER TWELVE.

CHRIS HAS A FIT.

Every one made a dash to avert the disaster on hearing their leader's words, but the stampede had already begun. Disaster of a serious kind was about to fall upon the little expedition, and but for the energy of Griggs and Chris matters would have been worse than they were.

For panic had seized upon two or three of the mules, which took alarm from the startled mustangs, and directly after they would all have been in headlong flight, kicking wildly as they tore away, when the same thought came to two of the party who had the energy and nerve to put it into action.

The idea was that even then, frightened as they were, the mules would obey their old habit, so driving their heels into their snorting mustangs' sides, Griggs and Chris raced after Skeeter as he was tearing along at full speed, shaking his load loose, and making his bell jangle loudly as he squealed and galloped.

Almost at the same moment the two pursuers grasped the mule's rein on either side and drew their own, with the result that with the bell ringing still loudly, three animals were going along swiftly close abreast, but moment by moment becoming more and more under control, Skeeter the calmest of all, for he acted as if he felt comparatively safe with a stout cob pressing against each side.

The rest of the mules were still galloping, but Skeeter led, and his behaviour began to influence his companions to such an extent that as they grew farther from the object of their alarm the kicking and plunging gradually subsided. The effort of going full speed under loads generally carried at a walk began to tell, and at the end of half-a-mile all were under control and following their bell-bearing leader, till Skeeter was checked, no serpents were in view, and the controllers of the wild race sat panting upon their mustangs, ready to round up any mule which made a fresh start, and every living thing panting from their late exertions, the bipeds eagerly calculating the damage that had been done.

"Sit fast," cried the doctor, "and be ready in case they make a fresh dash. Griggs! Chris! splendid; but keep fast hold of that bell-mule's rein."

"Got him tight, father," cried Chris.

"Same here, doctor," panted Griggs. "He'll have to leave his head behind this time if he tries to make a start. Say, Squire Ned," he continued to the boy, who now joined him, "you were grumbling about having no adventures. What do you say to this for a regular red-hot one, quite noo out of nature's oven?"

"Oh, I don't know," cried Ned excitedly. "Do you think the rattlesnakes will pursue us?"

"No that I don't, my lad; but I say, doctor, just look."

The leader was already gazing back over the ground they had covered, to see that it was dotted with packs and various odds and ends sent flying from the mules' loads, from a tin cross-handled kettle to bags of meal and a great elongated roll which represented the tent.

The doctor groaned, for there lay the scattered objects in sight, while how many lay beyond his ken he was afraid to think.

Of course he felt that they could be collected again, and that they were not of a nature to have suffered much damage, but it would probably be the beginning of another stampede to force any of the animals back along a track infested by serpents, and a task that would try the nerves of the stoutest of them seeing how horribly insidious was the danger, when the lifting of a bale might mean the incurring of a deadly stroke from a hidden foe.

In all probability no reader of this ever encountered a mule team represented by so many sets of four legs, a head, and tail, and a body hidden by the load secured upon the backs of the owners of the legs by means of cords tied with what a mule-driver calls the diamond-hitch. The reader has also probably never seen a mule dissatisfied with the load it has been called upon to bear, and doing its best to shed the same load. Every one is aware of the brute's kicking powers, but in this respect it is at its best when, plunging and flinging out its legs, it squeezes itself up tightly within its skin and tries its best—worst would be the proper term—to shoot itself out through the diamonds of rope which form the hitch.

Griggs had secured most of the loads that day, and he had done well; but all did not stand the strain, and the appearance of the mules standing, hanging of head, stamping, twitching their ears and whisking their tails to get rid of the flies, was painfully ludicrous.

Skeeter, as became him, being leader, and, thanks to the way in which he had been checked, was the most reputable-looking of the team, for others were horrible. Here stood one mule with his load resting upon the sand, the animal striding across it, head and fore-legs in front, hind-legs and tail behind, and nothing upon its back but tightened ropes.

A little farther on was one which had shed its load and stood with drooping head, looking as if it had been ornamented with a tangle of rope.

Again, not many yards away was another snuffling and nuzzling at the sand, which it blew aside now and then with a snort which raised a little cloud—doing all this under difficulties, being nearly overbalanced by its load, which had slipped over till it bulged straight out from its side. Another sat up like a cat, being held in position by its pack, which had slipped over its tail, while again another had kicked till it went down upon its nose, kneeling, so to speak, with its hind-quarters high up, and its load like a pair of panniers resting upon its neck.

"What a horrible confusion!" cried the doctor, and he was going to say something more, but his words were drowned by Skeeter, who had evidently been surveying the wreck of the train and the dismal condition of his companions, especially that of the one farthest off, which had tried to roll its load off till it had been brought up short by getting its legs perpendicular to paw the air—being unable to get over to right or left, consequent upon the two packs thoroughly wedging it up, so that its razor back resembled the hull of a boat whose keel was fitted in the chocks, the pawing legs looking like so many motive masts.