Chapter 10

"How! how! how!" Frank joined in, and at once the sixteen redmen sprang to their feet, apparently none the worse for Henry's double charge of bird-shot at short range. They held their weapons above their heads, and continuing to utter their friendly "How!" rapidly advanced towards the boys.

"They aren't playing us a trick, are they, Frank?" asked Henry, in an anxious tone.

"No," replied the elder boy, after snatching a glance to the rear. "The lieutenant and soldiers are saddling. The Indians dare not harm us on an open plain in sight of a mounted force."

The boys stopped, and the redmen came up and began shaking hands in a most friendly manner, over and over again, repeating "How!" many times. They were clad in loose and sleeveless cotton shirts, all ragged and dirty, with no other clothing. The one who appeared to be chief was distinguished by the possession of three shirts, worn one above the other. Each man possessed several hares and field-rats, held against his waist by tucking the heads under his belt.

The boy sergeants and their strange guests reached the camp-fire, and the hand-shaking and exchange of amicable civilities went on for some time. The chief approached me and, placing a finger on one of my shoulder-straps, asked, in mongrel Spanish:

"Usted capitan?" (Are you the captain?)

I replied in the affirmative.

"Yo capitan, tambien; mucho grande heap capitan." (I'm a captain, too; a very great heap captain.)

He then asked where we were from and where we were going, and informed us that they were Yavapais on a hunting expedition. We exchanged hard bread with them for a few cottontails, and set Clary to making a rabbit-stew, the boys and I deferring our supper until it should be ready.

"Oh, Mr. Duncan," shouted Henry from the direction of the Indians, a few moments later, "come and see what these creatures are doing!"

I left the ambulance and joined the group of soldiers who stood in a circle about an inner circle of seated Indians. Each Yavapai had selected a rat from the collection in his belt, and had laid it on the coals without dressing it or in any way disturbing its anatomy. He rolled the rat over once or twice, and took it up and brushed and blew off the singed hair. He placed it again on the coals for a moment, and, taking it up, pinched off the charred fore legs close to the body and the hind legs at the ham-joint. Replacing it on the fire, he turned it over a few more times. Picking it up for the third time, he held it daintily in the palm of his left hand, and with the fingers of his right plucked off the flesh and put it in his mouth.

When we were making our beds ready for the night, Vic, whom we had forgotten in the exciting events of the evening, trotted into camp and laid a horseshoe in Henry's lap. The lad took it up, and exclaimed:

"One of Chiquita's shoes!--a left hind shoe!"

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Private Sattler always shaped the heel of the left shoe like this, to correct a fault in her gait."

"May I look at the shoe, sergeant?" asked Corporal Duffey, approaching from the group of men near the guard's fire. "Shoes are like hand-writing--no two blacksmiths make them alike. I am a blacksmith by trade, and know all the shoes made by the smiths of our regiment. This," examining it, "is one of Sattler's. He put a side-weight on it, and here is the bevel-mark of his hammer."

"Then our ponies have certainly passed here, and Vic was on their trail when we saw her coming from the Tanks," remarked Frank; "but there could have been no scent after so long a time."

"Oh, she knows Sancho's and Chiquita's tracks," asseverated Henry; "she knows their halters, bridles, and will bring them when told to, without mistake."

The sentinel awakened us next morning at four o'clock, and informed us that the Indians had left two hours before. The animals were again driven to the Tanks, the vessels and canteens filled, and at six o'clock we were on the road. Nearly all our water was used in the preparation of breakfast, except that in the canteens. It would have been better if we had made a third trip to the cisterns and refilled our coffee-pot and camp-kettles; but the delay necessary to do it, and the assurance that there was water at Hole-in-the-Plain, determined me to go on at once. The weather was a repetition of that of the previous day--hot and windless.

The road proved generally smooth, but there were occasional long stretches over which it was impossible to drive faster than a walk. About four in the afternoon we reached Hole-in-the-Plain, and found nothing but a few hundred square yards of thin mud. The fierce rays of the sun had nearly evaporated every vestige of the recent rainfall, and in twenty-four hours more the mud would be baked earth.

Vic, consumed with thirst and suffering in the extreme heat, waded into the mud and rolled in it until she was the color of a fresh adobe, and was, in consequence, made to ride thereafter in disgrace on the driver's foot-board.

We had intended to pass the night at the Hole, but want of water compelled us to move on. Very gloomy and doubtful of the outcome, we left the Hole-in-the-Plain. We were toiling slowly up a slope, nearly a dozen miles on this third stage of the desert route, when a horseman overtook us, who proved to be Mr. Gray. He slowed up, listened to my account of our perplexities, and after saying many hopeful and cheering things, telling us that Tyson's Wells were now not far ahead, he galloped swiftly away in the darkness.

At midnight the road ascended to a considerably higher level and became suddenly hard and smooth. The driver urged the team into a series of brief and spasmodic trots, which lasted a couple of hours, when we again descended to a lower level, where the wearily slow gait was resumed. With the slower pace our spirits fell and our thirst increased. As Private Tom Clary expressed it to the driver:

"In a place like this a gallon of Black Tanks water would be acciptible without a strainer, and no reflictions passed upon the wigglers."

"That's so, Tom," called Henry, from the depths of his blankets; "I could drink two quarts of it--half and half."

"Half and half--what do you mean?" I asked.

"Half water and half wigglers," was the answer.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Can't sleep, sir; I'm too thirsty. Did drop off once for two or three minutes, and dreamed of rivers, waterfalls, springs, and wells that I could not reach."

"I've not slept at all," said Frank; "just been thinking whether I ever rode over a mile in Vermont without crossing a brook or passing a watering-trough."

"It's beginning to grow light in the east," observed the driver. "By the time we reach the top of the next roll we can see whether we are near the Wells."

"You may stop the team, Marr," said I; "we will wait for the escort to close up."

We got out to stretch our legs, while the straggling soldiers slowly overtook us. The man on the wounded bronco did not arrive until the edge of the sun peeped above the horizon, and I ordered him to remove the saddle and bridle, hitch the animal behind the ambulance, and take a seat beside the driver.

Just when we were about to start again, Frank asked permission to run ahead with the field-glass to the rising ground and look for Tyson's Wells. I consented, and told him to signal us if he saw them, and that if he did not we would halt, turn out, and send the least worn of the escort ahead for relief.

Frank started, and presently disappeared behind some brush at a turn in the road. An instant later he shouted and screamed at the top of his voice. Whether he was shouting with joy or terror, or had gone out of his senses, we were unable to guess. It sounded like "Who-o-o-op! water! water! water!"

Had the boy seen a mirage and gone mad? We could see nothing but the broad hollow about us, barren and dry as ever. But still the boy continued to shout, "Water! water!" and presently he appeared round the bend, running and holding up what appeared to be a letter. It was a letter. When Frank reached the ambulance tears were in his eyes as he handed me a yellow envelope.

"Found it on the head of a barrel over there, with a stone on it to prevent it from blowing away."

Breaking open the envelope with trembling fingers, I read:

"TYSON'S WELLS.

"DEAR LIEUTENANT.--Please accept four barrels of water and four bushels of corn, with my compliments.

"GRAY."

Need I confess the emotions with which we realized the service this brave Arizona merchant had done us? or need I mention that Mr. Gray--God bless him, wherever he may be!--is always remembered with gratitude by me? for this is no idle incident invented to amuse a reader, but an actual occurrence.

Water!--four barrels!--one hundred and sixty gallons! That meant two gallons for every man and boy, and eight gallons for each animal. It meant rest, speed, safety.

We moved across the ravine and found the four barrels by the road-side. The animals were secured to the ambulance and the acacia bushes, the heads of the barrels removed, and after each person had satisfied his thirst the camp kettles were used, until horses and mules had drunk the contents of one each. The stock was then turned out to graze.

When coffee was poured, Private Tom Clary arose, and, holding up his tin cup, said to his comrades:

"Here's a toast to be drunk standin', b'ys, and for many raysons, which I think nade not be explained to this assimbly, I'm glad to drink it in a decoction whose principal ingraydiant is wather. Here's to Mr. Gray, whose conduct at Soldiers' Holes, at Date Creek, and on the Walkerhelyer has won our admiration. May he niver lack for the liquid he has so ginerously dispinsed, nor a soft hand to smooth his last pillow, and plinty of masses for the repose of his sowl!"

Frank and Henry sprang towards the circle of soldiers, raised their cups as Clary finished his sentiment, and joined in the hearty response when he closed.

At one o'clock the animals were caught up, given the remainder of the water and their portion of the corn, and got ready for the road. Once up the slope Marr cracked his whip, the mules started into a trot, the horses of the escort broke into a canter, and amid the cheerful clatter of hoofs and the rattle of wheels we sped on our way as fresh as if we were just leaving Fort Whipple. A ride of twenty miles brought us to Tyson's Wells. These were two in number, sunk at an intersection of several roads leading to settlements and mines, an accommodation to trains, flocks, and herds, and a profit to the owner.

I learned from Colonel Tyson that immediately upon his arrival Mr. Gray had hired a wagon to take water and corn to us. He had bargained for the driver to go until he met us, but the man being prepaid may account for his not fulfilling his agreement to the letter.

The rest of the day and night was spent at the Wells, the boys and I taking our supper at the Desert Hotel, kept by the colonel. At the table, Henry, in a tone of evident anxiety, asked if we should return the way we came.

"Yes, if we can find a few kegs in La Paz that will hold water," I answered.

"But we cannot haul kegs enough in the ambulance to supply the animals."

"It will not be difficult. We will follow the army custom in such cases, and I will promise you that there will be no suffering from thirst when we cross the desert again."

Just as we were preparing for bed Mr. Hudson arrived from La Paz. He informed me that Texas Dick and Jumping Jack were there and in possession of the ponies; that there was to be a horse-race the day after to-morrow, and the ponies had been entered. At this news the boy sergeants became much excited, and proposed a dozen impracticable ways of going on at once and seizing their property.

Hudson said he had talked the matter over with Mr. Gray, and the merchant had advised that we give out a report in La Paz that we were there on the transportation and storehouse business only, and make no immediate attempt to capture the ponies. He said the town was full of the friends of the horse-thieves, and that our movements would be closely watched and reported to them. If they became alarmed they would probably run across the Mexican boundary at once.

"But why cannot we attend the race with the escort, as spectators, and seize them?" asked Frank.

"That is a move they will be sure to be looking for. If any of you go to the race, I believe neither of those men nor the ponies will be there."

I told Hudson to return to La Paz before daylight and circulate the report that I was coming for the purpose he had mentioned. I also requested him to watch Jack and Dick, and if he saw them making preparations for flight to come and meet me. We were met on the outskirts of the town by Mr. Gray, who told us we were to be his guests during our stay, and that his corral and store-rooms were at the service of my men and stock.

Going directly to the house of the hospitable trader, we found it to consist of well-furnished bachelor quarters, with several spare rooms for guests. The boys were assigned a room by themselves, and I one adjoining them, in which we found ample evidence that our host had looked forward with pleasure to our visit and had fully understood boyish needs and desires.

Henry, after exchanging his travelling-dress for a neat uniform, appeared upon the veranda with glowing face and shining hair.

"Mr. Gray, how pleasant you have made our room for us! Have you any boys of your own?" he asked.

"Only two nephews, Sandy and Malcolm, in the 'Land of Cakes,'" was the reply.

"What a good uncle you must be to them!"

"Thank you, laddie. I hope the bairns are as fine boys as you and your brother."

"You are very kind to say so, sir. May I ask you a question?"

"A dozen, laddie. What is it?"

"When you overtook us on the desert you said it was not far to Tyson's Wells, and that we should soon be there."

"Ah! then you thought it a long way, sergeant?"

"Perhaps my terrible thirst had something to do with it, but it seemed more than twenty-five miles. I thought you had a queer notion of distances."

"Only a little deception to keep up your heart, laddie. I saw you were in sad need of water, and I made a hard ride to send it to you, but I wanted you to do your best to meet it. What do you think of the shrinking properties of water when applied to a desert road?"

"Wasn't it great, though! Those last twenty miles your four barrels shrank into nothing but a pleasant three hours' ride."

After dinner Mr. Hudson reported that he had dropped information at the hotels and business places that we were here to meet a director of the Colorado Navigation Company. We also learned from him that the steamer _Cocopah_ had arrived that morning from up-river, and was now lying at her landing, one mile below town, awaiting the return of the director from Wickenburg. Both Mr. Gray and Hudson were of the opinion that the horse-thieves were suspicious of our presence, for their agents had been unable to locate the ponies at any stable in town. The horse-race was advertised to come off on the afternoon of the following day, half a mile below the steamboat-landing, and Texas Dick and Juan Brincos had entered horses for the stakes.

Mr. Gray thought the appearance of the ponies in the race would depend entirely upon what course we pursued. If we attended the race the ponies would not be there; if we stayed away he had no doubt they would run.

Believing the trader's convictions to be correct, I instructed the escort not to go south of the town during the day of the races, and told Frank and Henry to amuse themselves about the streets or in the vicinity of Mr. Gray's residence. I then started with our host to procure a building for a military storehouse.

For the rest of the day the boys showed little disposition to wander about; they spent most of their time lounging on their beds with a book, or asleep.

XV

THE PONIES ARE FOUND

The following day the boy sergeants rose from their beds fully refreshed, and after breakfast began to explore the town. They made some purchases in the stores, and found much amusement in watching a bevy of Mojave Indian girls buying pigments to be used in adorning their necks, arms, and faces. Following the bronze maidens to the shore of a lagoon that backed up to the town from the river, they seated themselves beneath a cottonwood and witnessed the designing of tracings in many colors, made with endless and musical chatterings, accompanied by an evident consciousness that they were objects of interest to two pale-face boys.

After completing the tinting the girls would walk about for a while and display their work to admiring friends, and then plunge into and swim about the lagoon with the ease and grace of a lot of mermaids; emerging with no trace left of their recent ornamentation, they would proceed to renew it in different designs, and take another swim.

"Quite like watering-place belles with extensive wardrobes," remarked Frank.

"And takes about as long to put on the paint as to put on a fashionable dress," said Henry, "but not so long to remove it."

Another thing that amused the boys was a _balsa_, or raft, made by the Mojaves, of the cane-grass which grew in the river-bottoms to the height of fifteen feet. A large bundle bound at the ends with grass ropes would sustain two men. The boys borrowed one of an Indian girl, who was sitting in the shade of some willows prinking herself artistically with an original and intricate pigmentary pattern. Stepping on board, they paddled about the lagoon for a considerable period.

Tiring at last of the sport, they separated, Frank saying that he was going for his shot-gun, and perhaps shoot for some quail, and Henry that he meant to find Tom Clary and set some lines for catfish.

The younger sergeant failing to find the soldier, selected a line, and, procuring some bait, returned alone to the lagoon. On his way he met the Indian girl walking along the sidewalk, an object of admiration and envy to the men and women of her people. Her bronze flesh was adorned with a lacelike tracery of beautiful design, in many tints.

"How exceedingly pretty!" said Henry, in Spanish, a language fairly well understood by the aborigines of the Southwest.

"I, or my paint?" asked the girl, coquettishly.

"The paint is well put on; but I think you prettiest just after a swim."

"Thank you, señor."

"May I use the balsa again, Indita?"

"Si, señor, and you may keep it, but return the paddle."

"Thank you. I will leave the paddle on the shore where you were sitting."

With this exchange of civilities Henry walked down to the pool. An idea had occurred to him. He wondered if he could not float down the river to the racing-ground and get a peep at Sancho and Chiquita, as they came in victors. He felt sure no ponies in Arizona could outrun them. But Mr. Duncan had told the escort not to go to the race. True; but what harm could there be if he kept out of sight?

Placing an empty box on the raft for a seat, he took Vic on board, and began paddling out of the lagoon. Speed could not be made with such a craft; it was simply a convenience for crossing or journeying down the river. The Mojaves, whose village was five miles above La Paz, came down on freshly made _balsas_ every day, but walked home, carrying their paddles.

Once well out of the lagoon, and in the river-current, the boy and dog were swept along at a swift rate.

A mile down the shore he saw a crowd of men, mounted and on foot, intently watching something inland. He was approaching the race-course. He made a landing on a sand-spit that struck off from an outward curve of the bank, and dragged the _balsa_ out of the water.

The shore rose abruptly from the bar to a height two feet above his head. He lifted and boosted Vic up, and seizing the long tufts of overhanging grass and thrusting his feet into the loops of willow roots, drew himself to the higher level and crept into a screen of low bushes.

Peering through the branches, Henry saw a straight-away course, parallel to the river, bordered for three hundred yards with the motley crowd of a mining and Indian country. At the northern end of the course was a group of ten ponies, out of which he found no difficulty in discovering two, a black and a cream-color, and recognizing in them the property of his brother and himself. In his opinion they were the handsomest animals in the group.

At the fourth signal--a pistol-shot--the ponies got away. Down the three-hundred-yard track they sped, and over the last fourth the black and cream-color led by a length, crossing the goal with Sancho half a neck in advance. Of course the little sergeant knew they would beat, and in spite of his sorrow at the loss of his ponies--intensified by this stolen sight of them--he could not refrain from clapping his hands and saying, aloud, "Bravo, Sancho! Bravita, Chiquita!"

The subdued cheer was promptly answered by a succession of barks at the foot of the tree, and Vic, interpreting the boy's clapping and speech to mean that she was free to go, dashed off at the top of her speed for the race-course, and to its southern end, where the victors were now held by their dismounted riders. Vic bounded wildly about them for a few moments, and then, standing still, Henry saw each horse in turn place its nose to the dog's nose. One of the men struck the dog sharply with the loop of his bridle-rein, and as she fled back in the direction of the tree in which the boy was, he saw the riders hold a brief consultation and then follow the dog.

Henry, perceiving he was discovered, let himself down from the tree. Texas Dick and Jumping Jack approached.

"Ven acá, muchacho" (Come here, boy), said the Mexican.

Henry did not stir, and Dick said to his companion, in Spanish: "He does not understand your lingo. I will try him in English: Come here, boy."

Henry had not disregarded Juan's summons for any particular reason, but the remark of Dick gave him an idea. By pretending ignorance of Spanish he might learn something that would be of advantage to him. Accordingly, he came forward when Dick spoke.

"From Fort Whipple, ain't yer, sonny?"

"I am."

"D' ye know these critters?"

"The black is my brother's, the light is mine."

"Lookin' on 'em up, I s'pect?"

"We shall take them, if we can."

"You see, I was right," continued Dick to his companion, in Spanish. "They came here to take these horses."

"Then we better call for the prize, collect our stakes, and leave," said Juan.

"Where shall we go?" asked Dick. "Arizona's getting uncomfortable for me, and your kin across the Mexican line don't love you."

"Valgame Dios, no! Let's cross the river and go to San Diego or Los Angeles."

"Estar bueno. Come with us, youngster," he added, in English; "and mind ye keep a quiet tongue in yer head or ye'll have no head to wag it in after ye've spoke."

Henry followed the men to the head of the race-course, where they received their prizes and winnings, and withdrew to the river-bank. There they divided the money and held a conference.

"We'd better cross the river to-night and camp at El Rincon until morning, and then strike for Dos Palmas and the coast."

"Shall we leave our monte and other stuff in town?" asked Juan.

"No; you stay here and take care of the boy, and I'll go back and sell out. Anastacio Barela will buy. Look sharp that the young soldier does not send a message by his dog. I heard lots of strange stories of her performances in that line at Prescott. I will bring down something for our supper and the road."

Dick galloped away, leaving the Mexican and Henry to await his return. As the twilight deepened into darkness the boy's thoughts grew more and more despondent. He now fully and sadly realized that his disobedience of orders had brought disgrace upon himself, and ruined every chance of recovering the ponies, for once the thieves got well away they were secure from capture.