Davy had a miserable night, and probably the rest did, too, although nobody except Left-over said anything. The mules started out stiffly. But Mr. Baxter suddenly shouted, in a queer wheeze, pointing: “Cheer up, fellows! There’s either a cloud or a mountain――see?” They peered. Away in the west, just touched by the first rays of the sun, peeped over the rolling desert, at the horizon edge, a vague outline that did look like the tip of a cloud. “There’s another!” cried Billy, pointing further to the north. “If those are mountains I reckon this one is Long’s Peak; maybe that other is Pike’s Peak.” Davy gazed constantly at the two vague, cloudlike breaks in the line of horizon and sky. As the sun rose higher they seemed to grow whiter; but they did not move. They must be mountains, then; and oh, so far away! Occasionally, as the wagon labored over a swell in the desert, Davy thought that he could descry other mountains in an irregular ridge connecting the tip in the north with the tip at the south. However, as the sun shone fiercer the whole sandy plain quivered with the heat rays and the horizon blurred. Nobody seemed to care about the mountains now; the main thought was getting through to water. The trail was almost drifted over by sand; the Hee-Haw party appeared to be the only party travelling it. That was discouraging. The mules scarcely moved. At noon they were given a little drink out of Hi’s hat, for the wooden bucket had warped and leaked like a sieve. Davy never had been so thirsty in all his life, and Left-over had to be forced back by main strength from the nearly empty cask. That night, camped in a dry watercourse, where they dug and dug without finding any moisture, they used the last of their water for coffee. “It’s make or break, to-morrow, boys,” said Captain Hi. “We’ll start as early as we can see, and push right through. Ought to strike water soon. The nearer we get to the mountains the better the chance for water from them.” Sunrise of the third day caught them plodding ahead, the poor mules groaning and wheezing, the wagon rolling sluggishly, and Davy, like the rest, with mouth open and tongue bone dry, in the wake. The cloud things in the horizon had remained stationary; some of them were whitish, some purplish; and mountains they certainly were! About ten o’clock Billy cried out thickly. “Water, fellows! Look at those mules’ ears! They smell it!” “’Pears like a creek yonder, sure,” mumbled Captain Hi. “Don’t be disappointed, though, if it’s another mirage.” For they had been fooled several times by the heat waves picturing water. “Those mules smell water, just the same, I bet you,” insisted Billy. Far in the distance shimmered now a thin fringe of green. The mules actually increased their pace; they broke into a labored trot; and shambling heavily behind the outfit pressed on. Left-over groaned and dropped, to lie and moan dismally.