I Married a Ranger

by Dama Margaret Smith

Chapter XV: FOOLS, FLOOD, AND DYNAMITE

The Chief and I stayed home for a few days, and life rambled on without untoward incident. I began to breathe easier and stopped crossing my fingers whenever the phone rang.

I even grew so placid that I settled myself to make a wedding dress for the little Mexican girl who helped me around the house. Her father was head of the Mexican colony whose village lies just out of Headquarters. Every member of the clan was a friend of mine, for I had helped them when they were sick and had saved all the colored pictures in magazines for their children.

The wedding day dawned early, very early! At five o'clock I dragged myself from my warm bed and went to the schoolhouse where the wedding was staged. Father Vabre married the couple, and then we all went home with the happy pair. An accordion and a harmonica furnished music enough for several weddings; at least they made plenty of racket. We were seated at the table with the bride and groom. They sat there all day long, she still wearing her long wedding veil. The groom was attired in the niftiest shepherd-plaid suit I ever beheld. The checks were so large and so loud I was reminded constantly of a checker-board. A bright blue celluloid collar topped the outfit. I do not think the bridal couple spoke a word all day. They sat like statues and stonily received congratulations and a kiss on each cheek from all their friends. There was such a lot of dancing and feasting, and drinking the native wine secured for that grand occasion. Our plates were loaded with food of all sorts, but I compromised with a taste of the wine and a cup of coffee. The dancing and feasting lasted two or three days, but one day exhausted my capacity for endurance.

Soon after the wedding, a tiny baby sister of the bride died, and its father came to get permission to bury it in the Park cemetery. I asked if I could do anything to help them, and Sandoval said I was to make the dress and put it on the baby for them. He produced bright orange organdie and pink ribbons for the purpose. Next morning I took the completed dress and some flowers the El Tovar gardener had contributed down to their home. I dressed the wee mite in the shroud, which was mightily admired, and placed the crucifix the mother gave me in its tiny waxen fist. Then the bride came with her veil and wreath of orange blossoms, and said she wanted to give them to the little sister. The mother spoke no English, but she pointed here and there where she wanted the flowers and bright bows of ribbon pinned. Strange, it looked to me, the little dead baby decked out in wedding finery, but the poor mother was content. She patted a ribbon and smoothed the dress, saying to me in Spanish:

"The Madonna will find my baby so beautiful!"

One hot August day, the Chief and Ranger West went down into Salt Creek Basin, at the bottom of the Canyon, to look for some Government horses that had strayed away. In spite of their feeble protests I tagged along.

We had checked up on the stock and were following the trail homeward. Ranger West rode in front on Black Dixie. Ordinarily he would have been humming like an overgrown bumblebee, or talking to Dixie, who he said was the only female he knew he would tell secrets to. But we had ridden far that day, and the heat radiated from the great ore rocks was almost beyond endurance. Now and then we could catch a glimpse of the river directly at the foot of the ledge our trail followed, and the water looked invitingly cool. All at once Dixie stopped so suddenly that Ranger West almost took a header. A man's hat was lying in the trail. Dismounting, the men looked for tracks. A quite legible story was written there for them to read. Some tenderfoot, thirst-crazed, had stumbled along that trail since we had passed that way a couple of hours earlier. Putting our horses to a lope we rode on until we came to his empty canteen; and a little farther on to a discarded coat and shirt. The tracks in the sand wavered like those of a drunken man.

"We'll find his shoes next," the Chief called to Ranger West; "and then pretty soon the end of the trail for him. Can't go far barefoot in this hot sand."