Chapter V: Part 5

I was convinced that Mr. Hopkins's inferences were correct; but in order that no mistake should be made, I sent two veterans in frontier service, Privates Clary and Hoey, to reconnoitre both flanks. They were gone half an hour, and returned with the information that no demonstration was being made towards our right, but that a dozen or more men had gathered on the opposite shore, at a point where they could cross and turn our left flank.

Preparations to meet this movement were begun at once. Sergeant Frank was sent to the ambulance with orders for the men in charge to bring in the animals, two at a time, and fasten them in the rear of the stable and stack. This was easily accomplished in the darkness. The ambulance was left in charge of Vic.

While this was going on, and I was overlooking the construction of rifle-shelters on the flanks, Sergeant Henry approached and asked if he could not be of some use. Something in the tone of the boy's voice showed me he felt he had been neglected, while his brother had been kept busy.

"What would you like to do?" I asked.

"Does a soldier choose his duty, sir?" was the reply, uttered with some dignity.

"Not usually, sergeant, it is true. I have a very important thing for you to do--something for which I was intending to look you up. Go and find Private Clary, and tell him to help you carry several armfuls of hay from the stack to the right of the slope. Make a heap, so that when it is lighted it will illuminate the approach from the creek. Ask Mr. Hopkins if he has any kerosene or other inflammable stuff to sprinkle on the hay and make it flash up quickly and burn brilliantly. Then throw up a shelter in which you can lie and be ready to light the hay when signalled."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. I'll attend to everything."

Not more than fifteen minutes had elapsed when the boy sergeant returned and informed me that the bundle of hay was prepared and a shelter constructed.

"Mr. Hopkins has two gallons of axle-grease and two quarts of spirits of turpentine."

"Excellent. Mix them together and sprinkle the hay thoroughly. Then place yourself in the shelter, and when you see a light flash from the west window of the house light your bonfire."

"I'll do so, sir," and the boy ran away in the darkness.

An hour had passed when loud whoops gave us warning of the enemy's approach. It was the war-cry of the terrible Apaches. Not a sound came from the creek. I strained my eyes in that direction, but nothing was visible in the black darkness beneath the pendulous branches of the willows.

At last I saw the fixed reflections of the stars in the surface of the pool diffuse themselves into myriads of sparkling atoms. A considerable body of Indians must be in the water, but none appeared in sight. Yes, they were crossing in two columns, to the right and left of the notch, concealed by the high shore, and would shortly unite and charge up the slope. Baldwin ran to the stable to tell the men there that the Apaches were coming, and to be on the alert.

The whoops of the flanking party redoubled, and were accompanied by a desultory firing, which the four men opposing them answered in the same way. Then I saw the sparkling water of the pool cut off from my sight, and knew that a body of men stood on the slope between us and the creek.

"Frank, show the light! Men, ready!"

The lantern flashed from the window, quickly answered by a flash on the bank, and a mass of red flame threw its luminous tresses skyward, bathing the whole scene in light. In the notch, half-way up the slope, stood a momentarily paralyzed group of nearly a hundred painted warriors. Every rifle in the hands of the white men in the two buildings spoke, and instantly the notch emptied itself pell-mell of its living throng. Only a few prostrate bodies showed the Apaches had been there.

With the discharge of fire-arms a silence immediately fell upon the scene, in marked contrast to the shrieking and yelling of a moment before. The bonfire burned low, and went out. Once more we were in darkness.

We believed the Indians would make no further demonstration, and an hour later a scouting party ascertained that they had gathered their dead and departed. Sentinels were posted, the ambulance run in by hand, the stock fed, and a midnight meal cooked.

While sitting by the camp-fire, listening to the sizzling of the bacon and sniffing the aroma of the coffee, Mr. Hopkins introduced me to his men and guests, and I heard an explanation of the tracks and blood at Soldiers' Holes.

Early that morning three gentlemen, who had passed the night at the ranch, started for Prescott. They were a Mr. Gray, a Scotch merchant at La Paz; Mr. Hamilton, a lawyer of the same place; and a Mr. Rosenberg, a freighter. When near the Holes, Mr. Hamilton, who was riding in advance, was shot by Indians concealed in the sage-brush. Mr. Rosenberg's mule was wounded, and plunged so that his rider fell to the ground. Mr. Gray, seeing the plight of the freighter, rode to his side, seized him by the collar, and aided him to leap to a seat behind him.

It is probable that this act of generous daring might have ended in the death of both men but for a diversion caused by the sudden and unexpected appearance of the military expressman. He came up a slope from a lower level, and, taking in the situation at a glance, let fly three shots from his breech-loading carbine that caused the Indians to lie low. The three men rode to the ranch, and Mr. Hopkins and his three workmen accompanied them to bring in the body of Mr. Hamilton. The Indians did not begin to concentrate at the creek until after the burial.

Supper being over, the boys and I were getting into our blankets for the rest of the night, when Mr. Hudson, who had been preparing to depart, came to bid us good-bye.

"I seem to take frequent leave of you, these times, lieutenant," he said.

"Yes; and your farewell ride with the Whipple mail so far seems to have been anything but monotonous. I think the _Anabasis_ would be a more suitable subject of study on this route than the _Memorabilia_."

"'Hence they proceeded one day's journey, a distance of five parasangs, and fell in with the barbarians,' might well be said of this trip, for a fact."

"Hadn't you better travel with me the rest of the way?"

"I think we have seen the last of the Apaches. They do not range south and west of here. Good-bye, sir."

"Good-bye, until we meet at Tyson's Wells."

The next morning, when the boys, Vic, and I were taking our places in the ambulance, Mr. Hopkins and his men, Mr. Gray and Mr. Rosenberg, approached us mounted. They informed me that they were going to La Paz.

"The Ingins are gettin' a little too thick here," observed the ranchman. "I find it diffikilt to git proper rest after a hard day's work. Think I'll stay away until Uncle Sam's boys thin 'em out a little more."

"Can I obtain a five or ten gallon keg of you, Mr. Hopkins?" I asked. "Ours was accidentally smashed on the road."

"Haven't a keg to my name, lieutenant. One way 'n' ernuther all's been smashed, give away, or lent."

The ride from the ranch to the edge of the desert plain was twelve miles, a portion of it over a rugged ridge. To the point where we were to ford the creek was two miles, and there the hired men, pack-mules, and ranch cattle turned off on the Bill Williams Fork route to the Rio Colorado.

Once on the level of the Xuacaxélla our team broke into a brisk trot, and we rolled along with a fair prospect of soon crossing the one hundred miles between Date Creek and La Paz. Messrs. Gray, Rosenberg, and Hopkins shortly turned into a bridle-path which led into a mine. Before taking leave of us Mr. Gray told me that my camping-place for the night would be at the point of the third mountain-spur which jutted into the plain from the western range.

We had not travelled long before we realized our misfortune in having smashed our water-keg. Each individual in our party possessed a three-pint army canteen, which had been filled when we forded the creek in the early dawn. These were to last us until evening, through an exceedingly sultry day. Frank, Henry, and I did our best to overcome our desire for water, but the younger boy could not refuse the appeals of Vic, when she looked up with lolling tongue and beseeching eyes to the canteens.

The men were the greatest sufferers, unless I except their horses. Long before mid-day their canteens were empty and their mouths so dry that articulation was difficult and they rarely spoke.

At five we arrived opposite the third spur, where we found a wand sticking in the ground and holding in its cleft end a slip of paper. It proved to be a note from Mr. Hudson, saying that this was the place to camp, and the Black Tanks were on the southern side of the spur, three miles distant.

In a few minutes, with the horses and mules divested of saddles, bridles, and harnesses, leaving two men behind to guard the property and collect fuel for a fire, we were on the way to water.

Hurrying along, we saw before us a long, irregular range, apparently three thousand feet in height, which had been cleft from summit to base as if by a wedge. In this rent we found water--water deposited in a natural reservoir by the periodical rainfalls in millions of gallons, a reservoir never known to be dry.

Climbing over the dike which enclosed the main deposit, we descended to the cistern, filled our cups, and swallowed the contents without taking a breath. When we dipped up a second, Tom Clary looked into the depths of his cup with knitted brows.

"Whist, now, sergeant laddies!" he exclaimed. "Look into the wather! It's aloive with wigglers of ivery variety. They're 's plinty as pays in a soup."

"Ugh! And we are full of them, too, Tom," said Henry, looking into his cup with narrow-eyed anxiety.

Pausing in the act of taking a second drink, I looked into my cup, and saw that it contained myriads of animalcula and larvæ, which zigzagged from side to side in the liveliest manner.

"Will they hurt us, Tom?" questioned Henry.

"I rickon they've got the worst of it, sergeant laddie; but I think I'd fale a bit aisier if I was blindfolded or takin' a drink in the dark. I prefer me liquid refrishment with a little less mate, not to minshin its bein' less frisky."

We had come to the Cisternas Negras with towels, intending to wash off the dust of travel. We now used one of them to strain the water, and were astonished to see that each gallon left behind it a plump spoonful of animalcula. The water was sweet, but, after discovering the abundant life in it, we deferred drinking more of it until it had been boiled.

As we pursued the narrow path to camp in single file, we noticed Vic a considerable distance to the right, scouting and nosing about in an earnest manner. Evidently she thought she had made an important discovery, for she several times paused and looked in our direction and barked. But we were too hungry to investigate, and soon she disappeared from our view.

When we reached the ambulance the boys put a few cakes of hard bread in their pockets, and, taking their shot-guns, went out to look for some "cottontails" while supper was being prepared. Believing we were well out of the range of hostile Indians, I did not object to their going alone. They passed a considerable distance beyond the growth of _Cereus giganteus_, over a level stretch covered with knee-high bunch-grass and desert weeds, without seeing a hare. Pausing on the brink of a shoal, dry ravine, they stood side by side, and rested the butts of their guns upon the ground. Just then a shout of "Supper! supper!" came from the group at the camp-fire.

"Hate to go back without anything," said Frank, so I afterwards heard. "Strange we can't see a rabbit now, when we saw dozens on the way to the Tanks."

"That's because we didn't have a gun," said Henry.

"You don't believe the rabbits knew we weren't armed then and know we are now?"

"Hunters tell bigger stories than that about 'Brer Rabbit.' Not one has bobbed up since we got our guns."

Suddenly from the flat surface of the plain, not twenty yards from where the boys stood, where nothing but bunch-grass and low shrubbery grew, sixteen Indians sprang up to full height, like so many Jacks-in-a-box.

XIV

ON THE DESERT WITHOUT WATER

The boys were frightened. Their hearts leaped into their throats, and it was difficult for them to restrain an impulse to turn and run; but a soldierly instinct brought them to a "ready," with eyes fixed upon the probable enemy.

"Quick, Henry! shoot!" exclaimed Frank, intending to reserve his own fire.

The younger sergeant raised his double-barrelled shot-gun to his shoulder and pulled both triggers. Down went the sixteen Indians as if the bird-shot had been fatal to all. The plain became in an instant as objectless as it was a moment before.

"Load, Henry, and, backward, march!" said Frank, ready to fire whenever a head showed above the grass, and at the same time moving as rapidly as possible towards the camp-fire.

"How! how! how!" was chorused from the direction of the Indians, and several naked brown arms were stretched upward, holding rifles horizontally in the air.

"That means peace," said Henry. "They aren't going to fire. Let's answer. How! how! how!"

"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.

It was night when Dick returned and told the Mexican that he had made an advantageous sale of their gambling outfit.

"Now, kid, ye kin slope," he said, addressing the disheartened lad. "Tell the lieutenant that he kin look for us at Hermosilla, on the other side of the Mexican bound'ry. Good-bye."

Henry hurried away towards La Paz, with Vic close at his heels. There was no occasion for haste, for he felt that nothing in the town could overtake the lost Sancho and Chiquita; still he hurried and stumbled on in the darkness.

"Oh, Vicky," said the boy, in his misery, stooping to caress his companion, "I ought to be court-martialled and dishonorably discharged from the service for this. I have done very wrong. I have lost our ponies for good."

The dog licked his hand sympathetically, and then suddenly bounded away, barking, and Henry heard Frank's voice say:

"Why, Tom, here's Vic!"

"Thin Sargint Hinery must be near," said the soldier.

"Yes, I'm here, Frank--and oh, Frank, I'm in such trouble!" And in a curiously jumbled and half-incoherent manner Henry related his afternoon's experience.

At the conclusion of the recital the three held a consultation as to what was best to be done. Time was precious, and the town was nearly two miles distant.

"Sargints," said Private Tom Clary, "I belave we can do bist by oursilves. Me afthernoon's lave ixpires at tattoo, but if, as me shuparior officers, ye'll allow me to be out of camp a bit longer, I think we can sarcumvint the thaves."

"We'll do our best to get you excused by the lieutenant," said Frank.

"Thank you, sargint laddie. You say the grass-boat is near by, Sargint Hinery?"

"Not far from here, Tom. Just west of the middle of the race-course."

"And the thaves are going to camp and cook their supper on the other side?"

"So they said."

"Thin we'll attimpt to interfare with their arrangemints. I think the liftinint will commind an 'absence without lave' if we bring in the raskils and the ponies."

The soldier and boys turned, and, bidding Vic keep close to them, hurried to the bar where Henry had left the gift of the Mojave belle. As they were lifting the elastic raft into the water they heard the voices of men on the river, accompanied by the splashing of water, and knew that the horse-thieves were fording the stream.

The Colorado was shoal, having an average autumnal depth of four feet at La Paz. Clary secured two poles from the river débris lodged on the bar, one for Frank and one for himself. Henry sat on the box in the middle, holding his companions' guns across his lap with one hand, and grasping Vic's collar with the other. The well-filled game-bags lay between his feet.

The _balsa_ moved slowly towards the opposite shore and swiftly down-stream, the stalwart Irish soldier's feet settling into the loosely bound stems as he poled. Becoming alarmed when he found the water standing above his ankles, he called, in a subdued undertone:

"Sargint Frank, I belave I shall go through the bottom of this l'aky craft before we git across."

"Take Henry's paddle, Tom; it lies on the right side of the box. Lay it across the reeds and stand on it."

"Ah, sure and that's betther. Kape yer ind a little more up-strame, sargint. We'll steer by the avening star."

In a few minutes the _balsa_ lodged against the shore in the still water of a little cove. The boys and soldier were aware that they were landing some miles below their starting-point, for the current was strong and swift, while the horse-thieves had forded the river almost in a direct line. They climbed the bank, and ordering Vic to keep close by them, began to move as fast as possible up the shore.

They had made their way for nearly an hour over a rough and miry river-bottom when the setter showed sudden excitement and began sniffing to the right and left.

"She must have struck their path from the river to their camping-place, Tom," said Frank. "Look sharp, Vicky, look sharp!"

"But she seems to be working up-stream," said Henry. "I should think they would have gone straight inland."

"There's an excillint rayson for that, sargint laddie," returned Clary. "One of the routes t' th' coast begins exactly opposite th' town, and they must go up-strame to foind it; El Rincon the landing-place is called."

"The Corner?"

"Yis, Th' Corner. Th' shore binds out there a wee bit."

Man and boys continued to struggle along, until across a level, grassless plot they saw, near a clump of cottonwoods, a fire, where Texas Dick and Jumping Jack were plainly visible, cooking their supper. On the side of the fire opposite the river were two saddles, upon which rested their rifles and revolvers. Still farther west the two ponies were picketed and grazing.

Clary told Henry to go to the ponies and stay there with Vic, while he and Frank crept upon the thieves. Screening themselves behind tufts and swells, and lastly behind the saddles, they worked across the level, the sound of their moving being covered by the booming and rushing of the mighty river. When within twenty yards of the fire and five from the saddles, Private Tom Clary sprang to his feet, aimed his double-barrelled shot-gun at the thieves, and shouted:

"Throw up your arrums!"

At the same instant Frank made a flying leap for the saddles, and seized the rifles and revolvers. Henry ran forward and assisted his brother in keeping Dick and Juan under the muzzles of their own rifles, while Clary securely bound them. This accomplished, the boys went back for a moment to renew their acquaintance with their horses. Yes, the chase was over, and their favorites were again in their possession; and it cannot appear strange that the young soldiers went into boyish ecstasies of delight at their good-fortune, embracing, patting, and talking to Sancho and Chiquita as if they understood all that was said to them.

But at last they joined Clary at the fire, and the three, while they continued to carry on the interrupted cooking of their captives, discussed ways and means of returning to La Paz, and it was decided to send the setter with a message. A note was pencilled on a page of Frank's diary, attached to Vic's collar, and she was taken to the river-bank and given a stick, with orders to deliver it to her master. With but little hesitation she plunged into the murky current, and soon disappeared in the darkness in the direction of the other shore.

While the boy sergeants were going through these adventures I remained in La Paz. At retreat and tattoo roll-calls Corporal Duffey had reported Private Clary absent, adding the words "and unaccounted for," and at Mr. Gray's table the boys were absent from supper.

At first I gave myself no anxiety over the absentees, but at midnight, becoming alarmed, I began a search for them. I soon learned that Henry had been seen to paddle out of the lagoon on a Mojave _balsa_, accompanied by Vic, and that Frank and Clary had gone quail-shooting. I did not feel especially anxious about the older boy, for he was in the company of one of the most trustworthy of our veteran soldiers, and would probably soon turn up safe. But Henry--gone down the turbulent river on a frail bundle of grass--what might I not fear?

I led all the men of the detail--every one of them as anxious as myself--on a long and fruitless search beside the river, without coming upon a clew. Returning to Mr. Gray's, and dismissing the men, I sat upon the veranda alone, sadly reflecting upon the absence of my young companions and Vic.

In the midst of my sad reflections there scrambled up the steps a wet and bedraggled dog, who dropped at my feet a chip. Carrying her in my arms to my room, I lighted a lamp and examined her collar, and found a few leaves of a memorandum-book covered with Frank's hand-writing.

The news of Vic's arrival with a message spread quickly, and soon the household was gathered in my room and in possession of the news of the exploit of the boys and Tom Clary.

"Good! good!" exclaimed the director of the Navigation Company. "Come with me to the _Cocopah_. We'll steam across and get the whole party."

On the western shore of the Colorado, Private Tom Clary and the boy sergeants sat by the fire broiling quail, which they seasoned from the supplies of Texas Dick and Juan Brincos, and accompanied by slices of toasted bread from the same source. In the midst of their enjoyment of "quail on toast" a loud "who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!" came across the river.

"Hullo!" said Henry; "the old _Cocopah_ is starting for the Gulf mighty early. I should think the pilot would find it difficult to keep off the shores when it is so dark."

The boys could see by the boat's changing lights that her bow, which had been headed up-stream, when she lay at the bank, was swinging slowly out into the stream, and they expected shortly to see her starboard lights as she headed downward. But she seemed to pause, with her furnace fires and pilot lanterns pointing towards them.

"Who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!--patter, patter, patter." The noise of the steamer grew louder and louder, until the boys rose from their seats and stared in surprise at the rapidly growing lights.

"I really believe she is coming here," said Frank.

"She is, or she nades a dale of space to turn in," observed Private Tom.

Presently two tall smoke-stacks separated themselves from the darkness and appeared high above their heads.

"Ahoy there, boys!" shouted the captain's voice from the bridge.

"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Frank.

"Get ready to come on board! Below there--stand by to lower gang-plank! Now!--lower away!"

Down came the plank, and a joyous group of friends walked down to the shore to greet the boys and the soldier.

A few moments afterwards the boy sergeants led their ponies on board, and Private Tom Clary escorted the prisoners. The _Cocopah_ cleared away and paddled back to the La Paz side, where Texas Dick and Juan Brincos were turned over to the civil authorities, and Sancho and Chiquita to the escort in Mr. Gray's corral.

Three days later the boys and I took leave of Mr. Hudson, who was now in charge of the government storehouse, and, accompanied by Mr. Gray, started for Fort Whipple. Hanging under the hind axle of the ambulance was a ten-gallon keg, and inside was another. We left La Paz early in the morning and arrived at Tyson's Wells at nine o'clock. Remaining there until six o'clock in the evening, we watered our animals, and with freshly filled kegs started for Hole-in-the-Plain, where we stayed until the following evening, the animals passing the day on grass without water. A second night-drive brought us to Cisternas Negras, and the third to Date Creek, from which last point we resumed travelling by daylight.

At Skull Valley, at the earnest request of Miss Brenda Arnold, Henry was allowed to remain for a few days' visit. He promised to join the next incoming mail-rider, and to ride back to the fort by way of the mountain-trail.

XVI

APACHES IN SKULL VALLEY

It was near midnight, four days after my return from La Paz, that I sat by my open fire, absorbed in a recently published popular novel. I was suddenly aroused by a distant and rapid clatter of horse's feet. The sound came distinctly through the loop-holes in the outer wall of the room--loop-holes made for rifles and left open for ventilation. Dropping my book upon the table, I listened intently to the hoof-beats. Some one was riding from the direction of Prescott, evidently in great haste; and Arizona being a country of alarms, I surmised that the rider was coming to the fort. The horseman stopped at the great gates.

"Halt! Who comes there?" rang out the voice of Private Tom Clary, who was sentinel No. 1, stationed at the post entrance. "Sargint Hinery, is it you, laddie?" the voice continued, in a lower and gentler tone.

"Yes, Tom; and, oh, tell Mr. Duncan, quick, that--"

"Whist! Take care, laddie! Howld on a bit!" and a rifle fell clattering to the ground and two solid feet sprang forward with a rush.

Hearing this, I started for the secret postern, and as I opened my door, heard the honest old soldier shout:

"Corpril uv th' guard, No. 1!" and, in a lower and appealing tone: "Liftinint, if ye hear me, come quick to the little sargint. I fear th' dear b'y is dyin'."

In an instant I was through the narrow gate-way, standing beside a group of the guard that surrounded Clary, who, kneeling beside a panting and reeking pony, held the inanimate form of Henry Burton in his arms.

"Corpril Duffey, will ye let one uv the b'ys walk me bate a minate till I can take the laddie in?" asked Tom.

"Yes, Clary, go ahead, and stay as long as you're needed," was the kindly answer.

"Is it to your room I'll be takin' him, sor?" asked Clary, rising and holding his burden across his breast.

"Of course, and place him on my bed. Corporal Duffey, send a man for the surgeon and hospital steward, and send another with the pony to the stable."