ONCE IN A THOUSAND YEARS.
BY JAMES BARNES
It was quite dark. The sun was not high enough as yet to shine down into the long narrow crevice up which Professor Jensen and the two boys were clambering.
A short distance ahead of them stalked John Coleman, the guide. He was a tall thin man with drooping shoulders, and he carried the Professor's camera, a heavy pick, and a long-handled shovel as if they were no more than feather-weights.
Suddenly the little party turned around a steep wall of shale, and the main cañon was in sight. The Professor paused and mopped his forehead. "There, boys, there it is," he said, pointing with his finger.
Half-way up the steep side of the cliff, in what looked to be a long narrow cleft in the steep descent of rock, stood the home and fortress of the ancient cliff-dwellers, which the boys had come so many miles to see.
From where they were they could make out nothing but some square windows in what appeared to be a line of half-crumbling adobe houses that nearly filled the huge shadowy recess.
George Lyman and Carter Randall were two boys of sixteen who had left home some two months before under the charge of young Professor Jensen. They were making a trip through Arizona and New Mexico in the search of fossils and traces of the prehistoric inhabitants. "Bones and battle-axes," George called them. Through their acquaintance with an army officer at one of the forts they had heard of the guide Coleman, who knew more about the habitations of the old cliff-dwellers than probably any man in the region, for he had been one of the first explorers up in the Glachens and the Black River country.
With this recommendation the Professor had engaged Coleman to guide his little party into the Black River cañon, and show them how to reach one or two of the more accessible fortresses that the strange, almost unknown people had built ages and ages ago.
When they had reached the bottom of the arroyo, and were following the shallow stream, John Coleman turned.
"Whar I'm goin' to take ye," he said, "lots of people have bin before. It's most cleaned out o' relics, I reckin; but thar, see thar!" He turned suddenly, and seized the Professor's arm. "Come here, a few rods further," he went on, pointing at the same time, as he waded up the stream to the opposite side of the cliff.
The village that the boys had first seen was nothing to that which now was plain in sight, under a great beetling brow of stone, that thrust out overhead a hundred feet or so into the cañon. It was fully one thousand feet from where they stood straight up to the ledge upon which this village stood. Sheer and straight it was, without a fissure or the chance for a foothold below, and the overhanging mass above marked it at once as inaccessible. The sides of the houses could be seen as they stood there almost intact, the ends of the roof-beams were plain in sight even to the naked eye, and through the field-glass a pile of pottery could be made out standing near the entrance to one of the larger dwellings.
The Professor gazed in astonishment. "It looks as if it were built yesterday," he said.
"How did they get up there?" inquired Carter, as he plashed up alongside.
"That's more than I can tell you," answered the Professor, slowly. "Major Evans told me of this village, but probably the old method of going there has been destroyed by time. In my opinion, no human foot has been there in the last thousand years or more."
"I'd like to see what it's like," said George, looking up, with his glass to his eye. "I'd like to get in there."
The Professor sighed. "Science would give a great deal to have you," he replied; "but come on; we must hurry to reach the small one over yonder." He pointed again to the ruins on the other side.
By careful climbing and careful stretching from point to point they at last reached the smaller ledge and entered through the narrow opening cut in the solid rock. It was as Coleman had reported; there was evidence of many visitations before them. Under the thick stifling dust they found nothing but some crumbling brick-work, bits of rough earthen jars, and a sandal made of straw.
Professor Jensen was outspoken in his disappointment. It was evident that the destroying power of nature besides that of man had been at work long, long before him.
The village, unlike the one across the chasm, was in a very exposed position, and rain and water had helped to work destruction; but over there in front of them and some hundred feet above their heads was the tantalizing fortress which they could not reach. What treasures it possessed! The Professor sighed; a long trip of three or four days had been next to fruitless.
Suddenly John Coleman turned and spoke to the Professor quite excitedly. "Capt'in," he said, "take that big glass of yourn and look just inside that window whar that rafter hangs." He pointed with his lean finger at the opposite cliff, and his hand was trembling.
The Professor looked through his glass.
"See anything?" asked the guide, his voice almost quivering.
"Yes," said the Professor, "I see something red."
Coleman drew a long breath. "It's thar yet," he whispered. He turned and looked at the group gathered about him as if frightened; then he spoke, still beneath his breath, "I put it thar."
The Professor started. "You! you!" he began, but the guide interrupted him.
"Yes, fifteen year ago las' spring I've bin thar" (with a wave of his arm), "and I've seen things."
The boys stepped forward, and Professor Jensen lowered his glass and glanced at the guide from head to foot.
"Tell us," he said, quietly, raising his hand to keep the boys from speaking.
The tall man was fairly trembling now. "You won't believe me," he faltered; "they never will."
Carter was about to say something, but the elder man suppressed him again with a gesture. "We will believe you, John," he said, as quietly as he had spoken before; "but how in the world, and where did you start from?"
Coleman sat down and clasped his palms together, and the boys and the Professor seated themselves quietly also, without a word.
"I'll tell you the hull story," began the guide, looking appealingly from one to the other. "But I 'ain't told it for nigh eight years now."
"Go on," said Professor Jensen; "we will listen carefully; it may be most important, John. Don't fear to tell it."
"Well," said the guide, beginning slowly, "you know I have lived and hunted in this kintry for more'n eighteen years. I come here from the East, an' I wa'n't older than either of you two boys." The three listeners nodded.
"One day I was huntin' with a party up this here cañon when we discovered this town, whar we be now, and t'other one 'cross the way. We reached this one easy 'nough, as we done to-day, but some one had been 'fore us even then—I suspect as they was Injuns," he added, parenthetically. "There was three others with me then, no good tellin' their names, 'cause they're all dead, but thet comes in the story. We was all young an' ventresome, and I sez to Bill Combs— He was drowned rite down thar!"
The guide broke off so suddenly that it was startling. He pointed with his finger down to where the little stream was slowly running through its sandy bed.
"I've seen it sech," said he, "an' I've seen it from bank to bank, a roarin' tearin' river—'tis now at some seasons o' the year."
For a moment the Professor was afraid that the thread of the story was going to be lost, but Coleman regained himself in half a moment.
"I was talkin' o' Bill Combs," he said. "We were standin' here whar we be now, an' I sez, lookin' over thar, 'Bill, if you lo'ered a man over the top of that ere cañon he could git opposite them houses and have a good squint at 'em.'
"'I reckin no man dares try it,' Bill sez to me.
"'I can,' sez I."
There was a pause, and Coleman stirred the dust nervously with his foot.
"I reckin the traders at Arequitta thought as how that we was crazy," he resumed at last. "But all the money Bill an' me had saved we put in rope, an' six months after that we were right up thar." He pointed to the top of the opposite cliff. "Three o' us, with three burros an' mor'n a thousand feet of rope, an' it warn't none too much. They drove a stake inter the ground, an' I tied the end of the rope 'round my arms, an' they lo'ered me away.
"At first 'twas kinder easy crawlin' backwards over the steep rock, but when I come to the edge an' looked up an' saw 'em so fur off, I tell you I felt scared, an' under me I could see the water rushin' an' jumpin' so far below. I couldn't hear no sound, but thar it was roarin' an' tumblin' up agin the rocks. They shouted somethin' to me, but I couldn't hear 'em, an' then I felt them payin' out the rope again. Well, sir, thar I hung a-swingin', an' lookin' up I could see nothin' but the rope comin' over the round top of the overhangin' rock foot after foot. I felt myself goin' down, twisting first one way an' then t'other, until all of a sudden thar was a jolt, an' I felt as if my arms were goin' to come off the sokits, an' then I stopped quick. Thar I was, sir, not mor'n forty feet from whar you see thet big house on the left, rite opposite to it. I could look inside o' the winders an' see big bottles settin' on the shelves, an' 'long on the ground was a basket full of things that looked like gourds. I had some difficulty from turnin' round, an' every now and then I'd swing about, for thar was quite some breeze flyin' up the cañon. At last the rope twisted so that I could hold myself quiet and still. The sun was nigh overhead by this time, an' it kinder lit up the shadows back in the lidge; an' what you suppose I saw there? Four skeletons, sitting with their backs agin the wall! They was kinder 'rapped up in cloth, but I could make out their ha'r—it was hangin' over their shoulders."
Coleman paused and clasped his hands.
"It was red, sir! Not black like the Injuns, but red, an' light colored like a gal's. Just then I felt a movement on the rope, an' I knowed thet they was tryin' to haul me up. I moved a few inches, and then come down again. Two or three times I felt them heave, but every time back I come to whar I was before. Then I looks up."
He paused.
"I never can forget it! Never, never," he said, half whispering. "The rope was frayin' through over the edge o' th' rock; 'twould only take two or three minits of thet sawin' to drop a plumb thousand feet onter the rocks or down inter the river. Then an idee come into my head, an' I swung myself to and fro much as you see children pumpin' in a swing. At last I was movin' back an' for'ard, longer an' longer, until once or twice I come within most jumpin' distance of the lidge; but I couldn't git the rope from 'round my arms. Then suddenly I thought about my knife, an' still swinging as hard as I could swing, I got it out; but it slipped from my hand, an' down it went; I heard it ring agin the cliff. I was goin' forward with a rush jest then, an' it looked as if the houses was all comin' out to meet me, an' suddenly I didn't know nothin' more."
The Professor was leaning forward expectantly, the boys had grasped hands, great beads of perspiration stood on Coleman's forehead. But he went on in a low even voice that never changed in its expression.
"When I come to I couldn't at first tell whar I was, but then I saw that I was lyin' on my back all kivered up with dust in the middle of a lot of brick pots an' rubbish, an' one of my feet was hangin' out over the cliff.
"Thar's where I landed," he said, pointing across the cañon. "I wasn't much hurt to speak on, an' I got up on to my feet an' looked 'roun' me."
"Well," said the Professor, excitedly, "go on! Go on!"
"It was a queer sight, I tell you," said the guide, resuming. "I had to move careful, for everything tiched raised sech a dust that it 'most strangled me. Thar was them four skeletons close up agin the wall—you can't see them, for they're right behind thet pile o' stones. Jest to the left was a big trough made o' wood, in which was some ears o' corn. I couldn't tell ye what I'd seen, but thar was speers with stone heds, and painted jugs, an' hangin' on a hook was a long cloth coat or somethin'; it was fringed with claws o' bears, an' hanged by a string was a big tooth, like o' which I never seen. There was a picture o' a elephant or sompthin' on the wall, an' a big stick curled like a snake with gold eyes—at least, it looked like gold. A heap o' truck was in a corner; but inside the houses the dust was so thick an' stiflin' when I tiched anythin', thet I'd hev to run out into the air to breathe. So I found a flight of steps, an' goin' up them careful, I got to the roof of thet big house. Thet lidge runs back mor'n a hundred feet, an' I went further in. As I got used to the dryness an' the dark I could see some more bodies—skeletons, at least twenty—sittin' close to the wall; they was crouched up an' 'rapped about with rough cloth ban'ges; some was sewed up in hides. An' then what do you s'pose I foun'?"
There was no answer, and he again resumed, quietly:
"A well, sir! A well, sir! dug into the solid rock, an' down about ten or twelve feet, filled with water. I could hear it tricklin'. I bent down an' looked in. Settin' on the edge was a cup, green an' shiny after I rubbed the dust off it, an' smooth as any plate you ever see. It took some trouble to get down to the water, but with a bit of rope thet I found still 'round my shoulders I man'ged to get a drink; and then it come to me how am I to get out of this place, anyhow?"
It was evident that the best way to get at the end of the story was to let the man go on in his own manner, so after a pause, in which no one spoke, he continued, his voice sounding monotonous in the dead silence:
"Strange to say, jest then I felt a current o' cool air a-comin' from the back o' the lidge beyon' the wall. As I went further in the current grew stronger, and the lidge narrowed down so thet I could jest squeeze myself 'long by bendin' somewhat careful like. At last I came to a hole, an' thar the air was so strong jest as if it war comin' up a chimney, only it was as cold as ice. I put the cup into my pocket, an' sounded the hole with my rope. It didn't go straight down, but sloped away, an' I crawled in it, feet first. It was all pitch dark, but I could make my way 'long, slippin' and pushin' with my elbows. All the time the draft kept gettin' stronger, but seemed to me it was growin' warmer, too, and then—"
Coleman had an exasperating way of stopping when he reached a most exciting place. But now he went on quicker, his voice rising with a rush of words.
"—I felt somethin' pilin' on my shoulders an' runnin' down my neck, an' it was sand! sand! an' the draft an' wind began to die away. At first I thought my head would be buried, for the sand ran over my shoulders an' almost held my arms; but I found I could keep it back by workin' careful, and all the time I was movin' down, feelin' my way with my feet before me. It seems to me I must have gone 'long for hours, when all at once I seed a little dot of light 'way down ahead. It give me hope, an' I pushed 'long, the hole growin' summat bigger, an' the sand pourin' past me so I had to fight to keep ahead of it. Jest as I could make out the entrance plain, I seemed to slip an' slide 'long, fightin' with my arms an' elbows to keep from stiflin', an' then know'd no more.
"When I come to agin I was lyin' on thet slope down thar, an' my clothes was torn inter rags, an' thar was nothin' near me but sand an' shale, an' no hole at all whar I could have come out of. I had to move careful, for the groun' shifted easy when I turned, and thar was the river a-roarin' at my feet. Thet's all the story," he continued, "an' it's true."
"Where were the other men?" Professor Jensen asked.
"Thet's whar the strange part come in; no one heard tell on 'em again. But I found Bill Comb's body rite over whar I pointed out. He may have fell over the cliff for all I know, an' they all may hev been drowned lookin' for him or me."
"What about the cup?" asked the Professor.
"Oh, I forgot!" said the guide, drawing out a leather wallet attached to a string about his neck. "Thet's all that is left of it."
He put into the Professor's hand some fragment of earthenware. It was glazed on both sides like the finest Chinese pottery. The Professor sighed.
"Don't tell 'em I told you," said the guide. "I 'ain't dare to tell that story for eight years, I reckin."
"What is that red thing over there you pointed out?" said Carter.
"Oh!" said the guide, quickly; "thet's a bandanna handkerchief. I tied it thar when I first went in."
[FRAIDIE-CAT.]
I sha'n't tell you what's his name!—
When we want to play a game,
Always thinks that he'll be hurt,
Soil his jacket in the dirt,
Tear his trousers, spoil his hat,—
Fraidie-cat! Fraidie-cat!
Nothing of the boy in him!
Dasn't try to learn to swim;
Says a cow'll hook; if she
Looks at him he climbs a tree;
Scart to death at bee or bat,—
Fraidie-cat! Fraidie-cat!
Claims there're ghosts all snowy white
Wandering around at night
In the attic; wouldn't go
There for anything I know.
B'lieve he'd run if you said "scat!"—
Fraidie-cat! Fraidie-cat!
Clinton Scollard.
A MORTAR BATTERY.