[to be continued.]
[CROSSING THE XUACAXÉLLA.]
BY CAPTAIN CHARLES A. CURTIS, U. S. A.
V.
The boy sergeants wandered about the town, made some purchases, and found great amusement in watching a bevy of Mojave Indian girls ornament their arms, necks, and faces with colored chalks in various fanciful designs, display themselves briefly to their admiring friends, and then plunge into and swim about a lagoon that backed up to the town from the river. Emerging with no trace left of their recent adornment, they would proceed to renew it in a different design, 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 interested 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 withes would sustain two men. The boys borrowed one of an Indian girl, who was sitting in the shade of a cottonwood prinking herself artistically with an original and intricate pigmentary pattern. Stepping on board, they paddled about the quiet lagoon for some time.
Tiring at last of the sport, they separated, Frank saying that he was going to look over his shot-gun, and, perhaps, go for some quail; and Henry, that he meant to find 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 ornamented with a lacelike tracery 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.
"The paint is well put on; but I think you look prettiest just after a swim."
"Thank you, señor."
"May I take 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."
With this exchange of civilities Henry walked down to the pool. Selecting a lid of a packing-box, he shaped a rude paddle with his pocket-knife. 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 Chiquita and Sancho as they came in victors; for he felt sure no ponies in Arizona could beat them. But the Lieutenant had told the escort not to go to the race. True. But what harm could there be if he kept out of sight; and there must be some bushes or hummocks on the river-bank where he could conceal himself. He determined to try it. If there was no shelter, he could float past, land below, abandon the balsa, and return to town by a circuitous route.
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 got out of 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.
Snatched by the rippling and undulating current of the murky river, the boy and dog were swept along at a swift rate. By using his paddle vigorously he kept near the shore, until, sweeping around a bend, he saw the steamer Cocopah tied up to the bank, and realized that if he did not quickly work out a piece his sheaf of cane-grass would be carried under her bow. It proved a desperate struggle, and he cleared the steamboat with no space to spare.
He floated swiftly on, and saw half a mile down the shore 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 straightaway 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 track was a group of ten ponies.
Eager to obtain an unobstructed view of the race, the boy dashed for a gnarled cottonwood on his left, ordered Vic to lie down at its foot, and swung himself into its branches. Climbing into the top, he found no difficulty in picking out two ponies, a black and a cream-color, and recognizing 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 ten 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 the ponies—intensified by this stolen sight of them—he could not refrain from swinging his cap, and uttering a subdued, "Bravo, Sancho! bravita, Chiquita!"
The cheer was promptly answered by a succession of barks at the foot of the tree, and Vic, interpreting the boy's words to mean that she was set free, dashed off at the top of her speed for the race-course, and down its length to where the victors were now held by their dismounted riders. She 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 boy's outlook, he saw them separate from the crowd, and, after a brief consultation, follow her.
Henry, perceiving he was discovered, let himself down from the tree. Texas Dick and Jumping Jack approached.
"Ven acá, muchacho," said the Mexican.
Henry did not stir, and Dick said, in Spanish:
"He does not understand your lingo. I'll try him in English. Come here, boy."
Henry had not disregarded Juan's summons, for any reason, but the remark of Dick gave him an idea. By pretending to be ignorant of Spanish he might learn something that would prove of advantage to him. Accordingly he came promptly forward when Dick spoke.
"From Fort Whipple, ain't yer, youngster?"
"I am."
"D'ye know these critters?"
"The black is my brother's; the light is mine."
"Yer lookin' on 'em up, I s'pect?"
"We shall take them, if we can."
"You see, I was right," continued Dick in Spanish to his companion. "They are here to take these horses."
"Then we'd better collect the prize and our stakes, and leave," replied Juan.
"Where shall we go?" asked Dick. "Arizona is getting uncomfortable for me, and your people 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 still tongue in yer head, or it'll go hard with yer."
Henry followed the men to the head of the race-course, where they received their prizes and the 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," said Dick.
"Shall we leave our monte and other stuff in town?" asked Juan.
"No; you stay here and watch the boy, and I'll go back and sell out. Anastacio Barella will buy. Look sharp that the young soldier does not send a message by his dog. I have heard strange stories of her. I will bring down something for our supper."
Dick galloped away, leaving the Mexican and Henry to await his return. As the darkness deepened in the river-bottom the boy's thoughts grew more and more despondent. When he heard the men forming their plans of escape he had thought of sending a message to the Lieutenant by Vic, and his hopes had risen with the prospect of causing the arrest of Dick in town, and the pursuit and capture of Juan at the race-course. But Dick's last caution to his comrade had shattered all. He realized that by his disobedience of what he knew to be the Lieutenant's wishes he had brought disgrace upon himself, and ruined every chance of recovering the ponies.
It was night when Dick returned and reported to his fellow thief that he had made an advantageous sale of their gambling property.
"Now, kid, yer kin slope," said he, addressing the disheartened lad. "Tell th' Liftinint that he can look for us at Hermosilla, on th' other side ther bound'ry. Good-by."
Henry hurried away toward 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 along in the darkness.
"Oh, Vicky," said the boy, in his misery, stooping to pat her head, "I ought to be reduced to the ranks, and dishonorably discharged from the service for this. I have done very wrong. I've lost the 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 adventures.
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 two miles distant.
"Sargints," said Private Tom, "I belave we can do bist by oursilves. You say the grass-boat is close by, Hinery?
"Not far from here, Tom."
"And the thaves are going to camp and cook their supper on the other side?"
"So they said."
"Thin lit's interfere with their arringemints. I think the Liftinint will overlook an 'absince 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, and knew that the horse-thieves were fording the stream.
The Colorado was shoal, having an average summer 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 were between his feet.
The balsa moved slowly towards the opposite shore and rapidly 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 THIS L'AKY GONDOLA BEFORE WE GET ACRASS."
"Sargint Frank, I belave I shall go through this l'aky gondola before we get acrass."
"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, that's betther! Kape yer ind a little more up-strame, sargint. We'll steer by the avening-star."
The distance to the western side slowly lessened. A landing could not be selected where all was dark; that must be left to chance. But chance proved kindly, and the balsa lodged against the shore in the still water of a little cove. The three climbed the bank, and soon began to move upstream. They knew that the ponies, having waded most of the way, had not been carried down much by the current, and must have landed far above them. Vic was cautioned to "watch out," for the pursuers depended upon her scent to show them where the ponies left the water.
They had made their way for nearly an hour over a rough and miry river-bottom when the setter paused. She began sniffing the ground to the right and left for a few moments, and then settled to a course, going west for half a mile, and then north, parallel to the river.
"She must be on the trail, Tom," said Frank; "but I do not see why the men went upstream."
"There's an excillint rayson for that, sargint," said Clary. "One of the routes to the coast is from La Paz, and the ford and landing is nearly opposite the town. The thaves have gone to El Rincon, as the landing is called."
The boys and soldier continued to struggle through tangling grass, intertwining bushes, and over uneven ground, until they reached an open space, and saw a light ahead. Bidding Vic drop behind and remain silent, they moved cautiously in its direction, until they came out upon a hard, level, and grassless plat, the river end of the California trail.
Across the level, near a clump of cottonwoods, was a fire where Texas Dick and Jumping Jack were plainly visible cooking their supper. On the side of their fire opposite the river were two saddles, upon which rested their rifles and revolvers. Still farther west the two ponies were picketed and grazing.
Frank told Henry to go to the ponies and remain there with Vic, while he and Clary moved towards the fire. Screening themselves behind tufts and swells, and lastly behind the saddles, they worked across the level, the sound of their movements being covered by the booming and rushing of the great 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 moment Frank made a flying leap for the saddles, and seized the rifles and revolvers. Henry was told to come forward and assist 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 little 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 the ponies, as if they understood all that was said to them.
At last they rejoined Clary at the fire, and the three fell into a discussion of how they were to return to La Paz. Each one felt that it would be impossible to ford the river and yet retain possession of the prisoners. Either of the boys must go on one of the horses or Vic be sent. It was decided to send the setter. A message was written, and after much persuasion Vic was made to understand that she was to swim the Colorado, and struck across for the other shore.
While the boy sergeants were going through these adventures I had remained in La Paz. At retreat roll-call Corporal Duffey had reported "Private Clary absent and unaccounted for," and at Mr. Gray's table the boys were absent from supper.
At first I did not give myself any uneasiness over the absentees, thinking they had miscalculated a distance in their rambles and would soon appear. The Captain and Director of the steamer Cocopah were present, closing the transportation business. When finished, the Captain left to prepare his boat for an early start.
Becoming alarmed at the boys' continued absence, at midnight I began a search for them, and soon learned that Frank and Clary had gone quail-shooting, and that Henry had been seen to paddle out of the lagoon on a Mojave balsa, accompanied by Vic. I did not feel especially anxious concerning the older boy; he and Clary were probably astray, and would turn up safe.
I led the men in a long search beside the river without finding a clew, and returning to Mr. Gray's, sat a long time on the veranda alone, sadly reflecting upon the probable fate of Henry and the absence of Vic. I thought if the boy was simply in trouble, he would have sent our never-failing messenger to me. The fact that he had not done so made me fear the worst. Perhaps the faithful Vic was now watching his stranded body on the shores of the great river.
In the midst of these 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 examined her collar, and found a few leaves of a memorandum-book covered with Frank's handwriting.
The news of Vic's arrival with a message spread quickly, and the whole household was gathered in my room when the wet leaves were unfolded and the boys' exploit learned.
"Good! good!" exclaimed the Director. "Come with me to the Cocopah. We'll steam across, and get the whole party—boys, soldier, ponies, and scamps. Such boys must have the best transportation on the river."
On the west side 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 "whoof! whoof! whoof!" 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 was swinging out into the stream, and 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. "Whoof! whoof! whoof!—patter, patter, patter,"—the noise of the steamboat 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 Tom Clary.
Presently two tall smoke-stacks separated themselves from the surrounding darkness and appeared high above the campers' heads.
"Ahoy there, boys!" shouted the Captain's voice from the pilot-house.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Frank.
"Get ready to come on board! Below, there—ready with the gang-plank! 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 little time 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. Baldwin, who was now in charge of the government store-house, 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 at six in the evening and reached Tyson's Wells at ten. Remaining there until four o'clock the next afternoon, we filled the kegs with water, and drove all night, arriving at Hole-in-the-Plain at sunrise. Remaining all day, the animals grazing without water, we made a second night's drive to Black Tanks; and then a third to Date Creek, where we resumed travelling by daylight. It is an old army custom to make night drives in warm weather over long distances between water. The nights of the far West being invariably cool, the strain is less on man and beast.
Two days after our arrival at Whipple the mail brought an order from the Department Commander relieving me from duty in Arizona that I might comply with an order from the War Department detailing me as Military Professor at Oldenu Military Academy. The same mail brought a letter from Colonel Burton, directing that his sons accompany me to San Francisco.
As rapidly as possible preparations were made for our departure. It chanced that Tom Clary's term of enlistment terminated a week before we were to start, and we were glad enough to give so worthy and useful a man free transportation in our ambulance to the coast, and by steamer to San Francisco.
In those days there were no overland railroads. After a two weeks' holiday at the Presidio, the boys, Clary, Vic, and I took the steamer for Panama and New York, Colonel Burton paying Tom's passage in the steerage. More than that; through my influence Clary was appointed to a vacant janitorship in the academy, and when Manuel Perea and Sapoya and the four ponies arrived the following spring he had the care of the animals.