“What it does is to follow the bed-rock,” explained the lieutenant. “The water sinks to the rock. Where the rock stratum lies deep, the water disappears in the sand; where the rock stratum approaches the surface, the water is brought above the sand again.”
For about sixteen miles the course of the stream was dust-dry; then, suddenly, out had popped the water, in a series of welcome pools. By the tokens of bones and rags this evidently was a customary camping-ground, between marches. When Oliver, who had been busy helping herd the cavvy, returned to the fires, he beheld there six strange Indians—the six who had been spoken of by the mansito guide, and who had been in advance of the company.
Five were Mohaves, and one was a California Indian who lived with them. All were naked; the Mohaves, of coppery bronze skin, straight legs, tall erect stature, were the handsomest Indians whom Oliver ever had seen. The party were equipped with unusually long bows, and each man carried a gourd, slung in a cord mesh, for water. The Californian spoke some Spanish, learned at the missions. He said that they came from a large village of the Mohaves at the crossing of the River Colorado, below the large canyons, in the desert three days’ travel eastward.
“I remember the village,” confirmed Kit. “Captain Young crossed thar, when we came out in Twenty-nine. Injuns war peaceable: we bought a fat mare to eat, an’ some squash, for we war nigh starved. But same Injuns had attacked another party, at the crossing, year before, so we war watching sharp.”
From the camp where the Indians joined, the Frémont and Carson company followed a little further down the erratic Mohave River, eastward, although the main trail veered more northward, for the ridges. The six Indians were afoot. They claimed that when they brought back horses the northern desert Indians stole them. They also claimed to be poor and hungry; and when, upon the next day’s march, three cattle, miserably worn, must be killed, after the camp had satisfied itself the six fell to until they had left only the bones.
The Indians’ banquet began in the afternoon and continued all the night. While Oliver and Jacob the colored youth (to whom the Mohaves were as interesting as he was curious to them) were watching them as by daylight they hacked and tore at the carcasses, from the camp welled a significant murmur.
“Somebody coming—riding from the no’th,” announced Jacob. “Looks laike they’re in a monstrous hurry. What foh, I wonder. Huh! Two men.”
“Man and boy; Mexicans,” proclaimed Oliver, keener of sight.
Yes, by token of their serapes, or blanket-scarfs enveloping their shoulders, and their bell-brimmed, high conical hats, Mexicans they were; and man and boy they were; riding desperately, upon foaming, sweating horses, across the trackless sand and rocks, for the camp. As soon as they arrived they were surrounded by an excited audience, and reeling in their saddles were telling their story. The man, with many rapid gestures, and staccato exclamations from the boy as well as from himself, was the chief speaker.
“We are Mexicans, señors,” he panted. “Two out of a party of six in advance of the main caravan from the Pueblo de los Angeles for Santa Fé. Thirty horses we had, and we thought by setting out ahead we should get the better grass. Ay de mi! And what happened! The other four were my dear wife, the mother and father of this boy, and a friend Santiago Giacome, who was our guide. We found good grass, and at the camping-place of the Archilette, about eighty miles beyond here, on the main trail, señors, we at last made halt to wait for the caravan to overtake us. We had gone into the desert far enough, being few in numbers. But after we had been at the Archilette, unmolested, for more than a day, señors, several Indians ventured to visit us, from where they had been watching us. They left us, with good words, but in a few days afterward came back with an immense crowd, an army of them, señors; and before we could prepare defence they charged, shooting and yelling. We were only six, and two of us women, with thirty horses. Pablo (and he indicated the boy) and I were on horse-guard; part of the barbarians surrounded the herd, but Giacome shouted to us to take it and flee—we must save the horses while he and this boy’s father fought to protect the women. So we did, the boy and I: we drove the animals right through the savages, and at full speed, with halts only to change saddles from one mount to another, we traversed back down the trail, until this morning we reached the camping spot of Agua de Tomaso, about twenty miles from here. Now having left the herd there, lest the savages should overtake us as well as it, we were hastening on to meet the caravan and inform it, when we sighted your camp, señors. Ay de mi! Alas and alas! Our four companions, two of them women, are murdered—and by this time the horses also are gone!”