The Peril Finders

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by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  A MULE'S SCENT.

  Ned had much the same account to give as Chris of his sensations aboutthe waking up on hearing a loud snorting and splashing, accompanied bythe squealing of the mule and the rattling of the tubs and chain.

  Sleep or stupor, whichever it was, the boys had kept their seats duringthe night, and at early dawn when Chris opened his eyes, half startledby the splashing, he saw what looked like a grey plain covered withdried-up salt, stretching right away to a thick bank of what appeared tobe clouds.

  Then as he sat staring wonderingly, he saw that the salt plain seemed tobe in motion, little waves passing away from where he sat; and then, asthe truth gradually dawned upon his misty brain, he slipped off hispony, to stand knee-deep in water and begin to scoop up the soft coolfluid and drink.

  He had swallowed several mouthfuls before his brain grew clearer, andthen his first matter-of-fact un-dreamlike thought was of Ned, and hecried aloud--

  "Water, water!"

  The answer was a gurgling sound from somewhere to the right, and turningin that direction just as there was a tremendous splashing, he becameaware of the fact, dimly-seen in the grey dawn, that his companion wasalso standing knee-deep and drinking; the ponies were calmly drawing inthe refreshing fluid between their slightly-parted lips, and the mulewas wallowing and trying to roll over, every now and then sending itslegs in the air, for them to come down again and raise quite a spray,for the effort to turn right over was a failure, the two barrels securedto the animal's back acting like buoys and keeping afloat.

  The next moment, regardless of his clothes, Chris dropped upon hisknees, bent down till his lips were within touch of the water, and thenhe drank, so it seemed to him, as he had never drunk before.

  Breathless after a while he raised his head again.

  "Ned! Oh, isn't it glorious!"

  There was no reply, for his companion was now bending down and drinkingwith avidity.

  But at last he too raised his head at the same time that the mule ceasedsplashing, stood up in the water, and gave itself a tremendous shake,before lowering its muzzle and drinking like the mustangs.

  "Ned!" cried Chris. "Why don't you say something?"

  "I can't," was the reply. And then: "I say, is it true, or only part ofthe long dream?"

  "True, true!" cried Chris. "But look sharp. Let's fill the barrels andget back to camp."

  "Hah!" ejaculated Ned in a long sigh. "Fill the barrels--get back.Yes, I'm beginning to be able to think now. My head felt all shut upand as if it wouldn't go. We have found water, then."

  "Yes, and we've been drinking, and--What are you doing?"

  There was no answer, for Ned did not hear, from the simple fact that hehad suddenly plunged his head right under water, to hold it there fornearly a minute, before raising it streaming.

  "Oh, Chris," he cried, "do that; it's lovely!"

  His comrade wanted no more inciting to follow the example set, keepinghis head below the surface in despite of the water thundering in hisears, till he was obliged to raise it and breathe.

  "If we only had time for a swim," he cried, as he stood up panting oncemore.

  "Yes, let's have one."

  "No," said Chris; "the barrels--we must fill them and get back."

  "Yes, of course," cried Ned. "I can't think properly yet. My head'sall muddly. But how can we fill them? If we take them off can we liftthem on the mule's back again?"

  "Perhaps not," cried Chris. "But I know," he added, after a pause.

  "Do you? Oh, my head's so muddly. Let's be quick and get back. I'mbeginning to think now. Why, what wretches we are, drinking away here,and my father must be dying of thirst."

  "Yes. Don't talk," cried Chris huskily. "Here, get to the other sideof the mule and take hold of the bit."

  Ned stared, but obeyed, and together they led the animal between them,wading farther into the lake, with the water gradually getting deeper,when as it grew breast-high Ned burst out with--

  "Yes, the water seems to have melted something in my head, and I canthink now. I say, are there any alligators here?"

  "I don't know," replied Chris. "Perhaps.--Come on, you brute!" heroared, for the mule began to jib and refused to go any farther in whenfrom its own natural buoyancy and that of the barrels its legs refusedto touch the bottom.

  Chris's fierce shout was accompanied by a heavy dig in the side from hisknee, an act which Ned imitated with the result that the mule snorted,tossed up its head, and then lowered it, prior to kicking up its heels.But in performing the evolution of lowering its muzzle its mouth wentdown into the cool water, and the opposition ceased in the enjoyment ofdrawing in mouthfuls of the limpid element, while with all four legsseparated to the utmost, the animal now refused to move.

  "You brute!" roared Ned.

  But the mule was quite aware of that fact. It knew it was one of themost despised of brutes, and had been told so till it ceased to have anyeffect, while now that it was drinking, whip or spur, kick or blow wouldhave had no effect.

  "Never mind," cried Chris. "I know--we can manage." As he spoke herapidly opened the tompion-like cover of one bung-hole, letting itrattle down by the side of the empty barrel and hang by its little brasschain, and then dragged at the barrel, trying vainly to bring theopening down to a level with the water.

  "Oh, do something, Ned," shouted Chris. "We ought to be on the wayback. Shove your barrel up as high as you can."

  Ned thrust his shoulder under the side and forced the barrel up, and thewooden pack-saddle gave a little at the same time.

  "That do?" he cried.

  "Yes, splendid!" For by pressing down with all his force Chris got theopening level at last with the water, which began to stream in till itsweight rendered the task less difficult, and by degrees the barrel keptits own position, the air within going out in strange hollow sounds asit was dislodged.

  "Now I'm more than half full, Ned," cried Chris eagerly. "I'll hoist upmy side while you draw your barrel down."

  This task proved more difficult, but after a few tries a little waterrushed into the empty receptacle. Then a little more and a little more,till Chris thrust upward with all his might, and the clear fluid ran inwith a rush, till the mule raised its head, shook the drops from itsmuzzle, and whinnied.

  Then, feeling far less buoyant from what it had drunk and the way inwhich the light barrels began to be turned into weights which kept itsteady, there was no more resistance to being led in deeper, so thatwith very little effort the casks were lowered in turn till the waterceased to flow in, and the tompions were replaced and safely secured.

  The water was now, at every movement made, passing in little waves rightover the mule's spine, and there it stood showing its teeth as ifpreparing to bite, but made no vicious effort, only stood blinking itseyes and turning its ears in all directions as if in the height ofenjoyment.

  As soon as the second barrel was secured, "full to the bung," the mule'shead was turned.

  "Go on!" shouted Chris, and it slowly walked out of the shallowingwater, till it stood dripping on the sandy marge.

  "Now," cried Chris, "I'm going to lead my mustang in as far as I canwade, so as to get regularly soaked, and it will freshen the beaststoo."

  "Yes, capital. Shall we take off the saddles?"

  "No, we won't stop."

  The ponies were led in till only their necks were out of the water, andthen turned towards the shore; but they stopped twice to drink, and wereapproaching the spot where the mule stood, when Chris uttered a cry andcaught at his saddle to save himself, his pony at the same moment makinga plunge and snorting violently.

  "What's the matter?" cried Ned anxiously.

  "Some big fish struck at me suddenly. No, I know, it must have been abig alligator."

  Ned's jaw dropped and his eyes opened very wide as he began to splashthrough the water as hard as he could go, the pony following willinglyenough, but only to snort and plunge as a
swell of water rose beforethem where the water was very shallow, and a dark, bark-like, glisteningback was seen for a moment, followed by a tapering tail, as a reptileglided by.

  "I wonder whether the brutes would bite," said Ned.

  "I shouldn't like to trust them," was the reply. "But oh, what a changesince last night," continued the boy, half-wild with delight, as the sunbegan to show a little over the edge of the horizon, flooding the worldwith golden light and turning the pale, silvery lake as it were intoglowing fire.

  The boys only glanced for a moment or two at the glorious scene beforethem of lake and undulating country backed by mountains. Then, aftertying the trailing lariat about the mule's neck, they mounted theirponies, all dripping as they were, ready for the march to camp, but onlyto suffer a chill of misery as the same thought struck both--

  Which was the way back?

  "Why, we shall never find them!"

  "Coming here as we did, fast asleep as we must have been," groaned Ned.

  "The mule must have smelt the water far-off," said Chris, "and found theway here."

  "Yes, but he won't find the way back to camp. What shall we do? Whatshall we do?"

  There was a piteous, despairing ring in Ned's voice as he sat gazingwoefully in Chris's eyes.

  "We might go right away," said the latter thoughtfully, and then in atone full of exultation, "We're a pretty pair," he cried; "look howplain the hoof-marks are in the sand. Why, we've only got to pick upthe trail and follow it back. There, you go that way and I'll go this.It can't be far away."

  "No, of course not," cried Ned, urging his pony forward in the directionindicated, while Chris started in the other, keeping close to thewater's edge, where the sand was firm.

  But the mule was not going to be left alone, and followed Chris's mount.Not for far. Within a hundred yards there were the hoof-prints of theanimals, going straight into the shallow lake on one side and on theother leading straight away over the sandy plain, which here came rightup to the water's edge.

  "_Coo-ee_!" shouted Chris, and Ned came cantering back.

  "Found the trail?" he cried.

  "Yes, here it is, with the mule leading. That's where he walked rightinto the lake. And we've been abusing mules and calling them names eversince I can remember. Ned, I'll never be a brute to a mule again. Willyou lead?"

  "No. You found the trail. Go on, and I'll come last. As fast as youcan."

 

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