back and forth, back and forth. Now the gallant horse was pounding his hoofs through a film of what was undoubtedly water, back and forth, back and forth! Now the water was over his hoofs. Once released, it surged upward swiftly until it was ankle deep. A little more and Slade called a halt. The trench was filled to the brim with clear, sparkling, and cool water.
“Help yourself,” he invited.
Shadow plunged his nose in and drank and drank. Slade dismounted and had a long swig himself. Then, while Shadow desisted for a spell, before drinking some more, he filled the water canteens to the brim, drank the last of his coffee and replaced it with water. Stoppering the canteens, he tucked them into the saddle pouches.
“Come, feller,” he said. Shadow followed him to the shade of the overhang. Slade emptied the remainder of the oats onto the ground, drew a couple of slicesof bread with bacon between them, and man and horse enjoyed a satisfying meal.
“Where did the water come from?” El Halcon replied to a hypothetical question from Shadow. “Geologically speaking the explanation is quite simple. Down there under the sand is a cup-shaped ledge of rock, something in the nature of a trough, scoured out by the action of water untold ages ago, for all this section was once a great inland sea or lake. Rain water seeps through the sand into the rock trough. Of course it cannot permeate the stone, but it does hold up the hard-packed sand, the bottom of the layer being also impervious to water. Perhaps also there is water seepage from those small creeks we encountered over on the rangeland. There the water remains. Under the pounding of your hoofs, a portion of the sand layer sinks, the water filters through and reaches the surface. Before long it will sink again and no trace of it will be left. Long ago the Indians discovered it and figured how to obtain it. Somebody else also understands the geological formation and its possibilities. Who? That I don’t know, yet, and I wish I did. But it is a simple explanation of how a bunch of cows can be run across the desert to the New Mexico hills and market. The cattle are allowed to rest here under the overhang—I’ve already noticed very faint traces of hoof marks the wind-driven sand of evening hasn’t totally obliterated, under that further overhang, which is more shallow than this one. Didn’t pay much attention to them, didn’t even mention them to you, for I knew just what to look for already. Get the idea?”
Shadow snorted his understanding and nosed up the few remaining oats.
“Well, we found it, but I’m hanged if I know what to do with it,” his master added. “We could intercept a stolen herd here, but I’m not at all sure it would do much good. We’ve got to learn who is the head of the outfit, somebody who was either able to piece together old Indian legends or has the geological knowledge necessary to understand this unusual but by no means isolated phenomenon. Somebody who perhaps has in mind something more outstanding than widelooping and robbery which may but be the means to an end.”
Slowly the water sank back out of sight, and as it sank, the liquified sands rose. The wind-drift would finish the chore and soon there would be left no sign of Shadow’s industrious plodding. Slade watched the water vanish and remarked reflectively—
“There is a vast subterranean watershed beneath all this section. Some day folks will realize its potentialities and take advantage of them. Artesian wells will replace the primitive windmill and Amarillo and other towns will be relieved of water shortage. Okay, horse, I guess we’d better be moving in some direction.”
For a few minutes he debated the advisability of staying in the shade of the overhang until after nightfall. It would be far the wiser course, but he was anxious to get back to Amarillo as quickly as possible, even after studying the ominous southwest.
Down there were higher dunes, misty with
“Help yourself,” he invited.
Shadow plunged his nose in and drank and drank. Slade dismounted and had a long swig himself. Then, while Shadow desisted for a spell, before drinking some more, he filled the water canteens to the brim, drank the last of his coffee and replaced it with water. Stoppering the canteens, he tucked them into the saddle pouches.
“Come, feller,” he said. Shadow followed him to the shade of the overhang. Slade emptied the remainder of the oats onto the ground, drew a couple of slicesof bread with bacon between them, and man and horse enjoyed a satisfying meal.
“Where did the water come from?” El Halcon replied to a hypothetical question from Shadow. “Geologically speaking the explanation is quite simple. Down there under the sand is a cup-shaped ledge of rock, something in the nature of a trough, scoured out by the action of water untold ages ago, for all this section was once a great inland sea or lake. Rain water seeps through the sand into the rock trough. Of course it cannot permeate the stone, but it does hold up the hard-packed sand, the bottom of the layer being also impervious to water. Perhaps also there is water seepage from those small creeks we encountered over on the rangeland. There the water remains. Under the pounding of your hoofs, a portion of the sand layer sinks, the water filters through and reaches the surface. Before long it will sink again and no trace of it will be left. Long ago the Indians discovered it and figured how to obtain it. Somebody else also understands the geological formation and its possibilities. Who? That I don’t know, yet, and I wish I did. But it is a simple explanation of how a bunch of cows can be run across the desert to the New Mexico hills and market. The cattle are allowed to rest here under the overhang—I’ve already noticed very faint traces of hoof marks the wind-driven sand of evening hasn’t totally obliterated, under that further overhang, which is more shallow than this one. Didn’t pay much attention to them, didn’t even mention them to you, for I knew just what to look for already. Get the idea?”
Shadow snorted his understanding and nosed up the few remaining oats.
“Well, we found it, but I’m hanged if I know what to do with it,” his master added. “We could intercept a stolen herd here, but I’m not at all sure it would do much good. We’ve got to learn who is the head of the outfit, somebody who was either able to piece together old Indian legends or has the geological knowledge necessary to understand this unusual but by no means isolated phenomenon. Somebody who perhaps has in mind something more outstanding than widelooping and robbery which may but be the means to an end.”
Slowly the water sank back out of sight, and as it sank, the liquified sands rose. The wind-drift would finish the chore and soon there would be left no sign of Shadow’s industrious plodding. Slade watched the water vanish and remarked reflectively—
“There is a vast subterranean watershed beneath all this section. Some day folks will realize its potentialities and take advantage of them. Artesian wells will replace the primitive windmill and Amarillo and other towns will be relieved of water shortage. Okay, horse, I guess we’d better be moving in some direction.”
For a few minutes he debated the advisability of staying in the shade of the overhang until after nightfall. It would be far the wiser course, but he was anxious to get back to Amarillo as quickly as possible, even after studying the ominous southwest.
Down there were higher dunes, misty with
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