"Remember? And wasn't it hot?"
The talk drifted aimlessly, round and about from the western
ranches to Flicker Alley and the London Music Halls, only to
return in the end, as it naturally would, to the water hole at
Rugged Rocks and our chances of finding lion. The discussion was
lengthy on this point--it always was.
By the time the sun came, the expedition had entered the plain of
the Rift Valley, and with the rising of the sun the thirst began.
Toward noon we halted for a couple of hours to allow the worst of
the heat to pass over, gave the horses and the porters a little
of the water that was carried on one of the wagons, and then
inspanned again and went on. As the horsemen took the road the
Colonel outlined his plan.
"We'll give the horses a good rest to-night, for we ought to make
camp early, and then start hunting the first thing in the
morning. We've got enough horse-feed to last us three or four
days if the water holds out that long. In that time we ought to
get a lion if there's any there. I'll ride on now a bit and look
for signs."
The Colonel's horse was a faster walker than the others and
slowly he forged ahead.
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