"You have a watch, have you not?" asked Tom Parry.
"Why, yes; but that"s not a compa.s.s."
"Oh, yes, it is," smiled the guide. "You can get your direction just as well with that as you could with a tested compa.s.s."
"Never heard that before," muttered Tad.
"Nor I," added Ned, at once keenly interested.
"I"m easy. I"ll ask how? What"s the answer?" questioned Stacy, gazing innocently at Tom Parry.
"I am not joking, boys. Every watch is a compa.s.s. You can get your direction from it unerringly whenever you can see the sun."
"Indeed?" marveled the Professor.
"The method is very simple," continued Parry. "All you have to do is to point the hour hand directly at the sun. Half way between the hour hand and the figure twelve on the watch dial you will find is due south."
"I"ll try it," answered Tad.
"There comes the sun now," said Ned.
The boys drew out their watches, having halted the ponies and turned facing the rising sun.
"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed the lads in one voice.
"It is, indeed, the fact," marveled the Professor.
"You can depend upon that whenever you have lost your way," said Tom Parry. "It has helped me out on many occasions."
"But what if there isn"t any sun--what if the sky is clouded?"
questioned Stacy.
"Then you"ll have to sit down and wait for it," laughed the guide.
After this brief rest the party continued on its way. They had come out on the level plain, and before them for several miles stretched the white alkali of the Nevada Desert. As the sun rose higher, they found the glare of the glistening plain extremely trying to the eyes. The guide suggested that they put on their goggles. But the boys would have none of them. Stacy"s right eye was badly swollen, yet he refused to cover it, though the fine dust of the plain got into it, causing it to smart until the tears ran down his cheek.
"Where do the wild horses congregate?" asked Tad, riding up beside the guide.
"Likely to see them anywhere, though they do not, as a rule, go far out on the desert on account of the scarcity of water. We may see some in the Little Smoky Valley and the Hot Creek Range when we reach there."
"Is it difficult to catch them?"
"Very. There is one magnificent white stallion that the horse-hunters have been trying to capture for the past five years."
"Why can"t they get him?"
"Too smart for them. He knows what they are up to almost as well as if the hunters had confided their plans to him. Twice, in the beginning, the hunters succeeded in getting him in a trap, but he managed to get away from his would-be captors."
"I"d like to get a chance to take him," mused Tad Butler.
"I"m afraid you wouldn"t have much luck, but we"ll have a hunt when we get down in the horse country, and I promise you that you will see some exciting sport. Better than hunting coyotes by moonlight," laughed the guide.
"I"d like to capture and break a real live wild horse," said young Butler, his eyes sparkling at the thought. "It would be a fine prize to take away with me, now wouldn"t it?"
"If you chanced to capture a good one, yes. The poor stock, however, has been pretty well taken up, so that the horses on the ranges now are splendid specimens."
"Anybody want to run a race?" interrupted Stacy, riding up near the head of the procession.
"Too hot," answered Tad.
"Just the kind of a day for a horse race. I"ll run any of you to see who cooks the supper," persisted Stacy.
"Oh, go back with the burros. I wouldn"t eat any supper that you cooked, anyway."
"I"ll remember that, Ned. Well, if none of you has s.p.u.n.k enough to race with me, I"ll run a race with myself."
"That a dare?" questioned Walter.
Stacy nodded, blinking his blackened eye nervously.
Walter shook out the reins.
"Come on, then. I suppose you won"t be satisfied until you"ve gotten into more trouble. Where do you want to race to?"
"See that patch of ground whiter than the rest off there?"
"Yes."
"Well, we"ll race there and back. How far is it from here, Mr. Parry?"
""Bout half a mile, I should say," answered the guide, measuring the distance with his eyes.
"Whew! I didn"t think it was so far," marveled Stacy. "But we"ll run it, anyway."
"I"ll be the starter," announced Ned. "If you break your neck, Chunky, remember that I am not to blame for it."
"If I break my neck I won"t be likely to remember anything, so you"re safe," retorted Stacy.
The others were too busy discussing wild-horse hunting to give heed to the boys" plan.
"All ready!"
"Yes."
"Go!"
Both lads uttered a sharp yell, at the same time giving their spurs a gentle pressure, and away they went across the blazing alkali, their tough little ponies steaming in the intense heat as they straightened out, entering into the spirit of the contest with evident enthusiasm.