The Texan shook his head: "I had bad luck with that bottle; it knocked
against a rock an' got busted. So we've got to lump the snake-bite with
the thirst, an' take a chance on both of 'em."

"How far is the water-hole?" Alice asked, as she eyed the flask that the
cowboy was making fast in his slicker.

"About forty miles, I reckon. We've got this, and three cans of
tomatoes, but we want to go easy on 'em, because there's a good ride
ahead of us after we hit Split Rock, an' that's the only water, except
poison springs, between here an' the old Miszoo."

Bat, who had come up with the horses, pointed gloomily at the moon which
had just topped the shoulder of a mountain. "She all squash down. Dat
ain' no good she look so red." The others followed his gaze, and for a
moment all stared at the distorted crimson oblong that hung low above the
mountains. A peculiar dull luminosity radiated from the misshapen orb
and bathed the bad lands in a flood of weird murky light.

"Come on," cried Tex, swinging into his saddle, "we'll hit the trail
before this old Python here finds something else to forebode about. For
all I care the moon can turn green, an' grow a hump like a camel just so
she gives us light enough to see by." He led the way across the little
plateau and the others followed. With eyes tight-shut and hands gripping
the saddle-horn, Alice gave her horse full rein as he followed the
Texan's down the narrow sloping ledge that answered for a trail. Nor did
she open her eyes until the reassuring voice of the cowboy told her the
danger was past.

Tex led the way around the base of the butte and down into the coulee he