He turned uneasily in his seat, like the agitated needle of a
compass, and even in time hazarded the remark that something did not
look natural; but there was nothing to look at but flat land and flat
sky, unless a hawk sailing here and there. At noon we lunched at the
tail of the ambulance, and gently "jollied" the doctor's topography. We
pushed on. Later in the afternoon the thirsty mules went slowly. The
doctor had by this time admitted his doubts--some long blue hills on the
sky-line ought to be farther to the west, according to his remembrance.
As no one else had any ideas on the subject, the doctor's position was
not enviable. We changed our course, and travelled many weary miles
through the chaparral, which was high enough to stop our vision, and
stiff enough to bar our way, keeping us to narrow roads. At last the
bisecting cattle trails began to converge, and we knew that they led to
water--which they did; for shortly we saw a little broken adobe, a
tumbled brush corral, the plastered gate of an _acequia,_ and the blue
water of the tank.
To give everything its due proportion at this point, we gathered to
congratulate the doctor as we passed the flask. The camp was pitched
within the corral, and while the cook got supper we stood in the
after-glow on the bank of the tank and saw the ducks come home, heard
the mud-hens squddle, while high in the air flew the long line of
sand-hill cranes with a hoarse clangor.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33