As it grew towards night they could think of nothing but water. Nobody wanted to rest without a drink of something, no matter how bad. Their tongues were swollen and all were "spitting cotton" as Bob put it. Even poor Darling's tongue hung out and the mule looked the picture of suffering. "He can't drag the load much further," said Mark. "For two pins I'd cut him loose and let him go on alone." "If we did that, somebody would come along and steal our outfit," said Si. "What is it, Sammy?" asked Bob, as one of the Socket boys came running up. "Pap wants to talk to you," answered Sammy. They halted, and soon Josiah Socket came plodding along. "My hosses is tuckered out," said he. "I reckon your mule is too. Can't someone go ahead and see if there is water in sight, while the most of us rest?" "I'll do it!" cried Mark. "I'll go along!" added Bob. "Si, you can stay with the outfit. If we find any water we'll come back. And anyway, we'll be back by morning, water or no water." So it was arranged, and Maybe Dixon said he would go forward with the two boys. No time was lost in starting and they set off at a smart pace, considering how they had been traveling since early morning. At this point the trail was a broad one--that is, there were a dozen paths to follow, taken by different pioneers, all in search of water on their journey westward. As a consequence, they soon reached a point where nobody was in sight. "We don't want to get lost," said Bob. "We haven't even got a compass to steer by." "I think I can remember the trail," said Dixon. "That is, if we don't turn around too many times." Mark was carrying the shotgun,--in hopes of seeing some small game that he might bring down. Maybe Dixon was armed with a rifle, a weapon he had not used since leaving Independence. "It's queer we don't meet many Indians," said Mark, as they trudged along. So far they had only met a handful of the red men and these had been little more than beggars. "I guess they don't want to live in such a dry country as this," answered the former sailor boy. "We may meet them in the mountains." "Maybe we'll meet 'em when we don't want to," said Dixon, and then he put up his hand. "Look there!" he said, softly. They gazed in the direction pointed out and saw a small deer running among the sage bushes. Its tongue was hanging from its mouth and it looked hot and thirsty. "I believe that deer is looking for water!" cried Mark. "More'n likely, lad," answered Maybe Dixon. "Maybe we'd better follow the critter up instead of shootin' it down." "A deer ought to be able to scent water a long way off," said Bob. "Let us follow the animal by all means. Even if it wants to run away, it will go towards the water first." They followed the deer, that was too tired to do more than lope along at a slow gait. The chase led around a small hillock and then to where some distant trees were growing. "I believe it is going for water!" cried Mark. "If so, we are in luck."