CHAPTER XXIV

ON THE BURNING DESERT

NO sooner had Dick gained this point than he gave a whoop. It was a sound that Roger would recognize if he were living, and capable of giving back any sort of reply.

Dick's heart seemed to cease beating for the moment, such was the agony of suspense that gripped his whole being. Then, when he caught a return whoop, he knew his chum was at least alive.

"Where are you, Roger?" he called, unable to see anything of the boy, although a little way down the sheer slope he caught sight of the dead sheep, just where it had fallen, after slipping over the edge of the opposite grassy plateau.

"Down below here, making my way to the game," came the reassuring answer.

"Are you badly hurt?" demanded Dick.

"Nothing that counts for much; and I'm bound to get my sheep, now I'm in the hole. You can't really blame me, Dick."

"Never mind about that now," the one above told him; "but do you know how you are ever going to get up out of that place again?"

"There's only one way that I can see, Dick--you must go back, and, when the men come along, borrow that rope Jasper Williams always carries with him. Perhaps he will come back with you, and help drag me up--after I've saved the horns."

Knowing how determined Roger could be, once he had set his mind on a thing, Dick did not attempt to argue with him, though he believed the other was taking advantage of his position.

"Now I can see you, Roger, and, by the way you are advancing along the bottom of the crevice, I reckon you must be all right. Yes, I will go back and get the rope. Perhaps some of the men may want to try mutton for their supper to-night, and, if so, they can haul the carcass of your sheep up out of the hole."

"I'll try to be ready for you when you come back," called Roger, waving his hunting-knife toward his chum; for by that time he had reached the spot where his quarry lay, and was evidently in a big hurry to set to work upon the pair of wonderful, massive horns.

Dick went back over the rocky trail until he reached the pass, where he found the two horses just as he had left them. Voices close at hand gave the welcome news that the other members of the exploring party were approaching; and, even as he looked, the foremost came in sight around a bend in the pass.

The men were greatly interested when they learned that Roger had actually shot a specimen of the mountain sheep of which they had heard the Indians talk. There was no lack of willing recruits when Dick once more climbed the bank, and started toward the place where he had left his chum.

Jasper Williams was one of the three men who insisted on accompanying Dick, and of course he carried with him the long, tough rope which had more than once on the journey proved to be worth its weight in silver, as for instance, when it came to hauling the batteaux up some rapids in the river.

When they reached the abrupt slope, down which Roger had managed to slip, one of the men came very near doing the same thing. Only for the timely assistance given by Jasper Williams, they might have had two comrades to haul up from the depths; and the man, being heavier, might not have escaped so luckily as the boy.

Roger had worked fast, and succeeded in cutting loose the curving horns that had given the old ram such a majestic appearance. He insisted on sending these up the first time the rope came down. Then, at the suggestion of Williams, he next attached the carcass of the sheep, which was also safely hauled up.

Last of all Roger himself came up. He had some minor bruises as the result of his fall, but he bravely stood the pain, and was proud of his recent feat.

Great was the wonder and admiration of Captain Lewis and Captain Clark when they set eyes on their first Rocky Mountain sheep. It was extremely doubtful if any white man had, up to that time, ever beheld a specimen of the _genus_. They could hardly blame Roger for wanting to carry the weighty horns along with him, though doubting the wisdom of such a course.

Dick, after considerable argument, finally convinced his cousin that it would be very foolish to burden his horse after that fashion, when, in crossing those desert lands, they had heard so much about, he would be compelled to carry a supply of water.

"The captain assures me the chances are three to one we will come back by this same pass over the mountains, and why not cache the horns somewhere? Nothing is apt to hurt them, and, once on the way toward the river, it will be easy to carry them with you. Then, when we again get aboard the boats, your troubles will be over."

Roger was not altogether unreasonable. This sort of logic convinced him that most of the others in the party would consider him foolish if he persisted.

In the end the horns were placed securely in a niche in the rocks where they were not likely to be disturbed by any prowling wild beast. The spot was marked so it could be easily found again; and after this had been done Roger felt relieved.

When they came to cook some of the sheep and test its worth as food no one was wildly enthusiastic over it. In fact they pronounced it tough; though admitting that a young specimen might prove altogether different.

Roger was even instructed to remember this in case he ever had another opportunity to procure fresh mutton; and, having already secured the desired horns, he readily promised to keep the advice in mind.

It happened, however, that another chance at the mountain sheep never came his way. In two more days the expedition had crossed the great divide, and found that, when the sun went down, they could see far away toward a level horizon.

Remembering all the dismal tales related by the superstitious Indians of sandy wastes where only a sparse vegetation grew, the men began to feel a new anxiety. Just how far away the goal they were seeking still lay not even the astute leader, Captain Lewis, could more than guess. It might be a hundred miles, and perhaps many times that; for they had by this time reached a point where they had nothing to depend on, save the vague stories told by wandering Indians whom they happened to meet.

Some of these, however, mentioned a great body of salty water, the end of which no human eye could reach, as lying far beyond the hot deserts. There were also rivers spoken of, where the great fish swarmed in countless millions, like the stars in the Milky Way overhead, or the sands on the shore of the "Big Water."

Roger hugged these stories to his heart. He fancied that, once they struck that river of the mighty game fish, he would be in his glory; for, if there was one thing above all others Roger loved to do, it was to fish.

The time finally came when they found themselves on the verge of the desert of which they had heard so much. There could be no such thing done as pass around the sandy waste, and their only course was to head straight into the setting sun.

At the time they had with them an Indian whom Captain Lewis had succored on the way. The fellow had fallen and injured his leg so that he walked with the greatest difficulty, limping badly. He had lost his bow, and being unable to provide himself with food, and far from his home, he stood a good chance of starving to death.

They had fed him and looked after his injuries. The Indian professed to be very grateful for such help, and for several days had clung to the expedition, though able by then to walk fairly well.

He had assured them, through signs mostly, that he could serve them as guide across the hot waste of sand, as he had himself crossed it on many occasions. Captain Lewis considered this a fair return for what he had done. Dick, however, did not altogether like the Indian's looks. He thought he had a crafty way of watching everything, and that his admiration for some of the horses might lead him to attempting a theft, unless he were diligently watched.

Still, since the captain seemed to trust him, Dick did not think it was his duty to say anything. It might look as though he were inclined to be bold. At the same time, he made up his mind that, whenever it was possible, he would keep an eye on the red man.

That night they filled with water the skin bags they had by degrees provided for the purpose. A spring that gurgled close by the camp gave them an unlimited supply of the necessary fluid; and they were warned by the guide that it would be the last waterhole they would expect to come across for many days.

In the morning the start was made, not without misgivings. No one could say what terrible things lay before them, and the men cast wistful glances back toward that cooling spring, as though they disliked to say good-by to it.

That day was one which served to give them a new experience, for, up to then, few of the explorers had ever known what it was to travel over a sandy waste where the sun beat down with blistering effect, and the air seemed fairly to quiver with the heat.

No living thing had they seen all day long, save perhaps a skulking small animal, which the men at first thought to be a dog, though it must have been a coyote; a few sage hens; and some gophers, that burrowed in holes in the ground, from the entrances of which they timidly watched the horses file slowly past.

In every direction lay cacti of various species and heights, while thorny plants belonging to the same family, and bearing a small pear-like fruit which the Indian told them was edible, lay upon the ground.

They were glad when night came with its refreshing air. The camp was made in the open desert, for there was not a tree of any size in sight. And it seemed to the boys that, when the sun went down that evening, it was several times as large as usual, as well as fiery red. It beckoned them on just as before, since they knew well that _somewhere_, beyond the desert, the sun must be setting behind the vast ocean which they all aspired to see.

Another like day followed, and all of them began to suffer more or less on account of the heat, and the sand glare, which affected their eyes. On account of this, it was suggested that hereafter they rest during the hottest part of each day, and continue their journey as far into the night as the horses could stand it.

They seemed to be thirsty most of the time, and the horses, too, needed many a refreshing drink in order to continue their labors. More than one uneasy glance was cast toward the supply of the precious fluid. If the skin sacks should spring a leak the wanderers must face a desperate condition, indeed.

So they settled down for the second night upon the open desert. Each day would be very much like another, unless they were unfortunate enough to experience one of those dreaded sand storms they had heard about, the terrors of which they could now easily imagine.

The guide, however, had spoken cheering words in his own tongue, and, by holding up two fingers of his hand, gave them to understand they were by this time half-way across the desert. If they could stand this for two more days there was hope that the worst would be over.

All of them were very tired after that long day's traveling, and, since no danger could come upon them out on the arid waste, sentries were dispensed with. Dick sat up longer than the rest, thinking he ought to keep an eye on the dusky guide; but the Indian appeared to be soundly sleeping, and weariness finally compelled the boy to succumb.

The morning came and brought with it a very disagreeable surprise. At some time during the night the sorely tempted Indian guide, forgetting his obligations to Captain Lewis, had taken an extra horse they had along and started on the back trail; not only that, but he had also carried off considerable of their supply of water, leaving the adventurers face to face with a terrible calamity.