"Bring Me His Ears"

by Clarence Edward Mulford

Here they found a dry stretch, despite the heavy rains; had they now gone down or up its bed they would have found alternating sections of water and dry sand, and in the water sections they would have found a current. Some of the traders maintained that its real bed was solid, unfractured rock, many feet below the sand which covered it, which held the water as in a pipe and let it follow its tendency to seek its level. The deep sand blotted and hid the meager stream where the bottom was farther below the sand's surface; but where the porous layer was not so thick, the volume of water, being larger than that of the sand, submerged the filling and flowed in plain sight. Some of the more uncritical held that the water flowed with the periodicity of tides, which like many other irrational suppositions, seemed to give the required explanation of the river's peculiarities. There was no doubt, however, about the porosity of its sandy bed, nor the amount of sand in it, for even after the most severe and prolonged summer rainstorms, which filled the river to overflowing, a few days sufficed to dry it up again and restore its characteristics.

Having full water casks again the hysteria had subsided and the caravan set out toward the lower spring, which was reached just before nightfall. Here they found two men comfortably camped, despite the fact that they were in the country of their implacable foes. At first they showed a poorly hidden alarm at the appearance of the wagons but, finding that they aroused no especial interest, they made themselves a part of the camp and began to get acquainted; but it was noticeable that they chose the hunters and trappers in preference to the traders, and carefully ignored the many Mexicans with the train. But no matter how careful they were in their speech they could not hide their identity, for the buttons on their torn and soiled clothing all showed the Lone Star of Texas, and to certain of the plainsmen this insignia made them cordially welcome. Among the Mexicans it made them just as cordially hated.

Tom Boyd espied them when the corral had been formed and invited them to join him and Hank at supper. A few words between the Texans and the two plainsmen established a close bond between them, and they became friends the instant Tom mentioned the partner he had lost on the march of the First Texan Expedition. Hank's careless reference to the treatment his partner had given Armijo on the streets of Santa Fe caused them to look carefully around and then, in low voices, tell the two plainsmen about the events which recently had transpired between the Cimarron and the Arkansas.

"Th' greasers in this hyar train air plumb lucky," said one of the Texans, who called himself Jed Burch. "Ain't that so, Buck?"

Buck Flint nodded sourly. "They kin thank them d——d dragoons o' yourn, friend," he answered.

"How's that?" asked Tom. "An' what about th' fight we saw signs of, a couple o' days back?"

"It's all part of a long story," replied Jed, gloomily. "Reckon ye might as well have th' hull of it, so ye'll know what's up, out hyar." He looked around cautiously. "Don't want no d——d greasers larnin' it, though. Who air these fellers comin' now?"

"Good friends o' ourn," said Hank. "Couple o' hunters that hang out, most o' th' time, at Bent's Fort."

Jim and Zeb arrived, were introduced and vouched for, and the little circle sat bunched together as the strangers explained some recent history.

"Ye see, boys," began Burch, "us Texans air pizen ag'in greasers, 'specially since Armijo treated McLeod's boys wuss nor dogs. So a passel o' us got together this spring an' come up hyar ter git in a crack they wouldn't fergit. Me an' Buck, hyar, was with th' first crowd, under Warfield, an' we larned 'em a lesson up on th' Mora. Thar warn't more'n a score of us, an' we raided that village, nigh under th' nose o' Santer Fe, killed some o' th' greasers, didn't lose a man, an' run off every hoss they had, ter keep 'em from follerin' us. But we got careless an' one night th' danged greasers an' settlement Injuns come up ter us an' stampeded all thar own hosses an' ourn, too, an' didn't give us a lick at 'em. That put us afoot with all our stuff. Thar warn't nothin' we could do, then, but burn our saddles an' what we couldn't carry, an' hoof it straight fer Bent's. We was on U.S. soil thar, so Warfield disbanded us an' turned us loose; but we knowed whar ter go, an' we went.