He laughed softly to himself then, and picked up the water jug, swinging it foolishly at his side, chagrined to think he had not remembered that the water in the well would be ruined for the time being, wondering if Señorita Anita really thought the jug a mere subterfuge of his to follow her and seek conversation.
Turning, he looked down into the well. Surface water was seeping through the rocks of the curb, and a few feet below the level of the ground a torrent poured into the hole to splash far below.
“Where is that coming from?” the caballero wondered.
He walked to the other side of the curb and bent over to look better. Ten feet from the top was the mouth of a small cavern in the side of the well, and from this the water was pouring in a stream half a foot deep and a vara wide.
“Persons do not turn a drain into a well,” he observed, watching the downpour. “There is something here that needs to be investigated.”
He glanced around. No other person was in the small orchard; none was peering at him over the wall. It was almost dusk. Perhaps the soldier who had followed him from the teepee was watching through a crack in the adobe, but he could not be sure.
He picked up the jug and sauntered toward the wall, stopping where a breach had been made, instead of springing over in the usual place. The soldier had turned back, and was standing at one corner of the plaza talking to a fray, and waiting.
The caballero ran back to the wall again, looked around quickly, and let himself over the curb. Jutting rocks gave holds for his feet and hands. He lowered himself rapidly, until he was at the mouth of the small cavern.
The volume of water pouring out was not so great now. The cavern was not a small storage-place for tallow, as he had half suspected, but a tunnel. Now the spirit of exploration was on him, and he drew himself inside. Foot by foot he made his way through the narrow gorge, splashing in water and mud to his knees, the water dripping upon him from the dirt roof.
Soon he had gone so far that light from the well did not penetrate, and now he journeyed slowly, putting a foot out and feeling around before attempting a step, fearing to be plunged into a pit or another well. He had covered a distance of fifty yards when he came to a turning, and there he stopped for a moment, hesitating whether to go on.