Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Great American Desert - Part 21
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Part 21

"Hippy's gone down! Hippy's gone down!" she cried.

"Gone down where?" demanded Grace, appearing on the scene at that juncture.

"He must have gone very suddenly, for I surely heard him yell less than five minutes ago," averred Elfreda.

"Look, look!" urged Emma, pointing to Hippy's tent, only the top of which was visible above the ground.

Grace was already running towards the tent, believing she knew just what the trouble was.

"Hippy, are you there?" she called.

"I am that, what's left of me," answered a voice that sounded some distance away.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, Brown Eyes, I am not hurt. Please clear away the wreckage, so we can see what we have here."

Grace and Elfreda hauled the tent out of the hole in the alkali crust and peered in. Hippy was sitting at the bottom, about five feet below the surface, and the instant Grace thrust her head into the opening she uttered a cry.

"Water!" she exclaimed. "I smell it!"

"I tasted it when I landed on my head in the wet sand," answered Hippy. "It was good, but I'd a heap sight rather drink my water standing. One doesn't take in so much sand that way."

"Wa--ater!" gasped Emma Dean. "And it isn't another mirage?"

"It is water, my dear, but how much of a supply there is remains to be seen. What were you doing out so early?"

"I was going out to get some water food from that horrible looking pumpkin plant, or whatever it is."

"Ping! Oh, Ping! Fetch the water buckets. Hurry! Mr. Lang has gone, so we must do what is to be done before the water disappears. What happened, Hippy?" asked Grace.

"This did, Brown Eyes. I turned over on my blanket, then the earth yawned and swallowed me down. I slid in head first."

"Here are the buckets and the canvas. I think I will get down there and a.s.sist you. Girls, drink your fill, then water the ponies. No, you carry the water out and let Ping do the watering."

Hippy a.s.sisted Grace down. She dropped to her knees and immediately began digging in the sand, which was wet and sticky.

With Hippy's aid, she patted the canvas blanket down as she had seen Hi Lang do it, and in a moment the water began seeping through. Grace observed that it seeped much more rapidly than when the guide had performed a similar operation.

"Buckets!" demanded Hippy.

They were lowered, and, in a few moments, half a dozen of them were filled and handed up to the outstretched hands waiting to receive them.

"This is splendid! I wish Mr. Lang were here. Too bad," said Grace.

"Might it not be a good idea for us to fire signal shots to recall him? He may be within hearing. Sound carries a long distance on the desert," suggested Miss Briggs.

"Fine, J. Elfreda. Will you fire the shots?"

Miss Briggs said she would, and, in a few moments, three interval shots rang out. Elfreda fired the signal six times, listening after each signal for a reply. None was heard, however, and Grace suggested that she wait half an hour or so, then try it again.

The baling went on, but the ponies and burros drank the water faster than Grace and Hippy could get it out of the tank and pa.s.s it up to those who were carrying water to Ping who was giving it to the horses, singing as he worked. This was the happy refrain he sang:

"Look-see you bucket, 'fore you tly, Got lopee (rope) 'nuf to pump 'um dly.

One piecee mouse can dlink at liver, But let he mousey tly for ever, All he can do top-sidee sh.o.r.e Is squinch (quench) he t'hirst an 'nuffin more."

"Every 'r' is an 'l' with a Chinaman," laughed Anne.

"That is what makes their pidgin English so quaint," answered Miss Briggs.

"Ping says the horses don't care for any more water," announced Nora, returning with two empty buckets.

"Pa.s.s them down," directed Hippy. "We will fill everything in camp, including ourselves."

When, they had finished with their work, the familiar, "Him come along," in Ping Wing's shrill voice, brought Hippy out of the water hole in a hurry.

"Are you going to leave me down here, Hippy Wingate, or are you going to a.s.sist me out?" reminded Grace.

"A thousand pardons! The thought of food drives every other thought from my mind." Hippy reached down and gave Grace a hand.

"Please fire another set of signal shots," suggested Grace, shaking out her skirt to free it from the damp sand. "Mr. Lang will be surprised when he finds that we have a water tank right here in camp. I hope he hears our shots."

Elfreda, having shot into the air six times, put down her rifle and joined her companions.

"Oh, doesn't that coffee smell good?" she cried. "A warm drink is even more necessary out here than it is in the city. I hope we never have another such a dry time as we have just experienced."

"Listen!" warned Grace, holding up a hand for silence.

The reports of two rifle shots were faintly borne to their ears.

"That's a signal. I heard the first a second before I spoke.

Answer them, Elfreda."

Miss Briggs sprang up and fired the rifle three times. An answer came in the form of three reports that plainly were from a long distance away.

"That must be Mr. Lang. I am glad," said Grace, her face lighting up in a pleased smile.

"Him come along," announced Ping a few moments later, using the elastic expression that stood for the dinner call, as well as to indicate that some one was approaching.

The Overland girls stood up and, shading their eyes, gazed off over the desert. They saw a horseman approaching, but the pony he was riding appeared to be almost dragging himself along.

"That isn't Lang," exclaimed Hippy.

"I see it isn't," agreed Grace.

Being a lone rider the Overlanders knew they were safe from trouble so far as he was concerned, but they observed the rider narrowly as he neared the camp.

"Ping! Fetch water!" ordered Grace incisively. "That man and horse are exhausted."