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Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali

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<h3> CHAPTER IX </h3> <h4> THE BOYS DISCOVER A RIVER </h4> "Where's that river you were talking about?" demanded the lads when the outfit pulled up at noon next day. "Don't you see it?" smiled Parry. "Not a river," answered Ned, gazing about him, then allowing his glance to rest on the face of the guide to determine if Parry were making sport of them. "I am not sure myself. I know where it should be. Whether it's there or not is another matter. Fetch the shovels and we'll soon find out." "Finding a river with shovels!" muttered Stacy. "Huh! Who ever heard of such a thing?" But as soon as the boys had returned with the digging implements, Parry swung the tools over his shoulder and strode confidently to the left of where they were encamped for the noonday rest. The boys followed him full of curiosity. Finally the guide threw down the tools and began to run his hands over the hot, yellow soil. "Guess the sun's gone to his head," muttered Ned, as he squatted down to observe more closely what the guide was doing. The other three lads followed his example. In a moment they were on all fours, hopping about like so many quadrupeds. Parry was shaking with laughter as he observed them. "Bow! Bow wow!" barked Chunky, jumping on hands and feet, snapping his teeth together suggestively. The boys looked at each other and burst out laughing. They had discovered all at once what a ridiculous figure they were making. "Sun gone to your head, too, Chunky?" chuckled Ned. "Oh, no, I forgot; it's dog days," he added maliciously. "Your master had better get a collar and chain for you, then, Ned," laughed Stacy, in high good humor with himself. The guide's voice put a sudden end to their merriment. "Here's the river," he cried. "There is plenty of water in it, too." The boys gathered about him quickly. "I don't see any river," averred Walter. "There isn't any," answered Ned, in a low voice. "I'll show you whether there is or not," snapped Parry, who had overheard the remark. "You boys think I have gone crazy, don't you? You'll find there is something to learn about this old Nevada Desert—some things that you never even dreamed of. Hand me a shovel, please." All at once Stacy began pushing his companions roughly aside. "Here, here, Fatty! What are you trying to do?" the others demanded, beginning to struggle with him to prevent being bowled over. "I'm saving your lives," cried the fat boy. "Saving our lives?" cried Ned. "Go shake the alkali out of your eyes." "Yes, you'll fall in and drown." "In what?" "In the river. Don't you see the river right there in front of you?" queried Stacy, his eyes fairly beaming with importance. "No, I don't. If there was a river there you'd be the first one to fall in, and don't you forget that." "What's this? What's this?" inquired the Professor, approaching. "It's a river," answered Stacy solemnly. "A river?" "Yes, sir. Don't you hear it roar? Wish I had a boat." "Is it water you are digging for, Mr. Parry?" asked Professor Zepplin. But the guide did not hear the question. He was too busy with his mining operations at the moment. "Come on, boys," he urged. "Get busy here." "At what?" asked Ned. "We're with you, but we don't know what you want us to do." "Yes; can we help you?" inquired Tad. "Of course you can. Get those other shovels and dig." "Where?" "Right here. Make the dirt fly as fast as you want to. I'll show you something in a minute." He did. All at once the sand beneath them gave way, and the Pony Rider Boys, all except Stacy Brown, uttered a yell as they sank waist deep into a sink of soft, wet sand. Parry had felt the sand giving way, and with a warning had leaped from the hole. The lads had not been quick enough. "There's no danger. Don't be alarmed. You'll get wet feet, that's all." "What is it?" asked the Professor in amazement. "Water, my dear sir. Water in plenty. It's a branch of the Pancake River. These streams run underground for great distances on the desert, but they change their course so often that you can't place any dependence on them. We're lucky, boys." "Hurrah for the water!" shouted the lads. "Keep on digging. We haven't got it yet. Master Stacy, will you run to the camp and bring the folding buckets? We'll soon have the hole cleaned so we can dip up some water." "Sure," answered the fat boy, thrusting his hands in his trousers pockets and strolling off at a leisurely gait as if there were no necessity for haste. "That's Chunky's idea of running," laughed Ned Rector, jerking his head in Stacy's direction. The three lads finding there was no danger in their position, had made no attempt to clamber from the hole. Instead, they began digging, until the dirt flew so fast that the Professor was obliged to withdraw. Somehow most of the dirt seemed to be flying through the air right in his direction. Now the water began to rise above the caved-in sand. It was a dirty yellow in color and the boys' clothing suffered as a result. But the youngsters did not care. Besides, they were cooling off. At last the hole had been cleared sufficiently to enable them to dip up some water, but Stacy not having returned with the pails, the Professor was sent to fetch him. He found the lad enjoying himself tickling the nose of a drowsy burro. Professor Zepplin led Chunky out to the water sink, by one ear. The lads now quickly dipped up pailful after pailful, which they passed to the guide on the bank. He ran with them to the stock, giving each of the animals a little, so that all might share in the first instalment. Ponies and burros were wide awake now, expressing their pleasure in loud whinnies and blatant brays. "It's foggy on the river," laughed Ned. "The burros have started up their fog horns." When Parry returned he brought with him the drinking cups, which he had taken from the saddles. "Is it fit to drink?" asked Tad as the cups were passed down to them. "It's wet." "So are we," retorted Ned. "But we're dirty. Uh! That's horrible stuff." "Strongly alkaline," nodded the Professor, after sipping gingerly at the brimming cup Parry had passed to him. "Do you not think we had better wait a little while until it settles?" "Not a second, if you're thirsty," answered the guide shortly. "This stream is liable to change its course in the next ten minutes. Don't you take any chances with a desert stream. Fill the water bags and the canteens as fast as we can that's what we'll do. Then, if the water holds out, there will be time enough to empty out our supply and fill with fresh." "Hey, Chunky! Haul those water bags over here," called Walter. "Can't," called Stacy. He was sitting on the ground pulling off a shoe. "What's the trouble now?" snorted Ned. "Got a cramp?" "No; I've got a sore toe." "Supposing we duck him," suggested Ned. "We'll save all the water we have," warned the guide sharply. "No nonsense about it, either." The party was in great good humor, now that they had found a water hole, and the animals had drunk until their sides were distended like balloons in process of being inflated. "They've had enough," announced the guide, going to the animals and glancing over the herd sharply. "No more water for the present." "Then perhaps we might as well be on our way," suggested the Professor. Parry did not reply. He was shading his eyes with one hand, gazing intently off over the desert. The Professor, following the direction in which the guide was looking, discovered a cloud of dust rising into the air. The cloud was approaching them at a rapid rate. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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