by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER VI. "I GO WHERE WAGALEXA CONKA SAY"
That afternoon Ramon joined them, suave as ever and seeming very much atpeace with the world and his fellow-beings. He watched the new leadingwoman make a perilous ride down a steep, rocky point and dash up tocamera and on past it where she set her horse back upon, its hauncheswith a fine disregard for her bones and a still finer instinct forputting just the right dash of the spectacular into her work withoutoverdoing it.
"That senora, she's all right, you bet!" he praised the feat to thosewho stood near him; "me, I not be stuck on ron my caballo down thatplace. You bet she's fine rider. My sombrero, he's come off to thatlady!"
Jean, hearing, glanced at him with that little quirk of the lips whichwas the beginning of a smile, and rode off to join her father and LiteAvery. "He made that sound terribly sincere, didn't he?" she commented."It takes a Mexican to lift flattery up among the fine arts." Then shethought no more about it.
Annie-Many-Ponies was sitting apart, on a rock where her gay blanketmade a picturesque splotch of color against the gray barrenness of thehill behind her. She, too, heard what Ramon said, and she, too, thoughtthat he had made the praise sound terribly sincere. He had not spoken toher at all after the first careless nod of recognition when he rodeup. And although her reason had approved of his caution, her sore heartached for a little kindness from him. She turned her eyes toward himnow with a certain wistfulness; but though Ramon chanced to be lookingtoward her she got no answering light in his eyes, no careful littlesignal that his heart was yearning for her. He seemed remote, asindifferent to her as were any of the others dulled by accustomednessto her constant presence among them. A premonitory chill, as fromsome great sorrow yet before her in the future, shook the heart ofAnnie-Many-Ponies.
"Me, I fine out how moch more yoh want me campa here for pictures,"Ramon was saying now to Luck who was standing by Pete Lowry, scribblingsomething on his script. "My brother Tomas, he liking for us at ranchnow, s'pose yoh finish poco tiempo."
Luck wrote another line before he gave any sign that he heard.Annie-Many-Ponies, watching from under her drooping lids, saw that BillHolmes had edged closer to Ramon, while he made pretense of being muchoccupied with his own affairs.
"I don't need your camp at all after today." Luck shoved the script intohis coat pocket and looked at his watch.
"This afternoon when the sun is just right I want to get one or twocut-back scenes and a dissolve out. After that you can break camp anytime. But I want you, Ramon--you and Estancio Lopez and Luis Rojas. I'llneed you for two or three days in town--want you to play the heavy in abank-robbery and street fight. The makeup is the same as when you workedup there in the rocks the other day. You three fellows come over andgo in to the ranch tomorrow if you like. Then I'll have you when I wantyou. You'll get five dollars a day while you work." Having made himselfsufficiently clear, he turned away to set and rehearse the next scene,and did not see the careful glance which passed between Ramon and BillHolmes.
"Annie," Luck said abruptly, swinging toward her, "can you come downoff that point where Jean Douglas came? You'll have to ride horseback,remember, and I don't want you to do it unless you're sure of yourself.How about it?"
For the first time since breakfast her somber eyes lightened with agleam of interest. She did not look at Ramon--Ramon who had told hermany times how much he loved her, and yet could praise Jean Douglas forher riding. Ramon had declared that he would not care to come ridingdown that point as Jean had come; very well, then she would show Ramonsomething.
"It isn't necessary, exactly," Luck explained further. "I can show youat the top, looking down at the way Jean came; and then I can pickyou up on an easier trail. But if you want to do it, it will save somecut-backs and put another little punch in here. Either way it's up toyou."
The voice of Annie-Many-Ponies did not rise to a higher key when shespoke, but it had in it a clear incisiveness that carried her answer toRamon and made him understand that she was speaking for his ears.
"I come down with big punch," she said.
"Where Jean came? You're riding bareback, remember."
"No matter. I come down jus' same." And she added with a haughty tilt ofher chin, "That's easy place for me."
Luck eyed her steadfastly, a smile of approval on his face. "All right.I know you've got plenty of nerve, Annie. You mount and ride up thatdraw till you get to the ridge. Come up to where you can see camp overthe brow of the hill--sabe?--and then wait till I whistle. One whistle,get ready to come down. Two whistles, you, come. Ride past camera, justthe way Jean did. You know you're following the white girl and trying tocatch up with her. You're a friend and you have a message for her, butshe's scared and is running away--sabe? You want to come down slow firstand pick your trail?"
"No." Annie-Many-Ponies started toward the pinto pony which was hermount in this picture. "I come down hill. I make big punch for you. Peteturn camera."
"You've got more nerve than I have, Annie," Jean told her good-naturedlyas she went by. "I'd hate to run a horse down there bareback."
"I go where Wagalexa Conka say." From the corner of her eye she saw thequick frown of jealousy upon the face of Ramon, and her pulse gave anextra beat of triumph.
With an easy spring she mounted the pinto pony, took the reins of hersquaw bridle that was her only riding gear, folded her gay blanketsnugly around her uncorseted body and touched the pinto with hermoccasined heels. She was ready--ready to the least little tensed nervethat tingled with eagerness under the calm surface.
She rode slowly past luck, got her few final instructions and a warningto be careful and to take no chances of an accident--which brought thatinscrutable smile to her face; for Wagalexa Conka knew, and she knewalso, that in the mere act of riding down that slope faster than a walkshe was taking a chance of an accident. It was that risk that lightenedher heart which had been so heavy all day. The greater the risk, themore eager was she to take it. She would show Ramon that she, too, couldride.
"Oh, do be careful, Annie!" Jean called anxiously when she was ridinginto the mouth of the draw. "Turn to the right, when you come to thatbig flat rock, and don't come down where I did. It's too steep. Really,"she drawled to Rosemary and Lite, "my heart was in my mouth when I camestraight down by that rock. It's a lot steeper than it looks from here."
"She won't go round it," Rosemary predicted pessimistically. "She's inone of her contrary moods today. She'll come down the worst way she canfind just to scare the life out of us."
Up the steep draw that led to the top, Annie-Many-Ponies rodeexultantly. She would show Ramon that she could ride wherever the whitegirl dared ride. She would shame Wagalexa Conka, too, for his injusticeto her. She would put the too, for big punch in that scene or--she wouldride no more, unless it were upon a white cloud, drifting across themoon at night and looking, down at this world and upon Ramon.
At the top of the ridge she rode out to the edge and made the peace-signto Luck as a signal that she was ready to do his bidding. Incidentally,while she held her hand high over her head, her eyes swept keenly thebowlder-strewn bluff beneath her. A little to one side was a narrowbackbone of smoother soil than the rest, and here were printed deep themarks of Jean's horse. Even there it was steep, and there was abank, down there by the big flat rock which Jean had mentioned.Annie-Many-Ponies looked daringly to the left, where one would say thebluff was impassable. There she would come down, and no other place. Shewould show Ramon what she could do--he who had praised boldly anotherwhen she was by!
"All right, Annie!" Luck called to her through his megaphone. "Go backnow and wait for whistle. Ride along the edge when you come, from bushesto where you stand. I want silhouette, you coming. You sabe?"
Annie-Many-Ponies raised her hand even with her breast, and swept itout and upward in the Indian sign-talk which meant "yes." Luck's eyesflashed appreciation of the gesture; he loved the sign-talk of the oldplains tribes.
"Be careful, Annie," he cried impulsively. "I don't want
you to behurt." He dropped the megaphone as she swung her horse back from theedge and disappeared. "I'd cut the whole scene out if I didn't know whata rider she is," he added to the others, more uneasy than he cared toown. "But it would hurt her a heap more if I wouldn't let her ride whereJean rode. She's proud; awfully proud and sensitive."
"I'm glad you're letting her do it," Jean said sympathetically. "She'dhate me if you hadn't. But I'm going to watch her with my eyes shut,just the same. It's an awfully mean place in spots."
"She'll make it, all right," Luck declared. But his tone was not soconfident as his words, and he was manifestly reluctant to place thewhistle to his lips. He fussed with his script, and he squinted intothe viewfinder, and he made certain for the second time just where theside-lines came, and thrust half an inch deeper in the sandy soil theslender stakes which would tell Annie-Many-Ponies where she must guidethe pinto when she came tearing down to foreground. But he could delaythe signal only so long, unless he cut out the scene altogether.
"Get back, over on that side, Bill," he commanded harshly. "Leave herplenty of room to pass that side of the camera. All ready, Pete?" Then,as if he wanted to have it over with as soon as possible, he whistledonce, waited while he might have counted twenty, perhaps, and sentshrilling through the sunshine the signal that would bring her.
They watched, holding their breaths in fearful expectancy. Then they sawher flash into view and come galloping down along the edge of the ridgewhere the hill fell away so steeply that it might be called a cliff.Indian fashion, she was whipping the pinto down both sides with the endof her reins. Her slim legs hung straight, her moccasined toes pointingdownward. One corner of her red-and-green striped blanket flapped outbehind her. Haste--the haste of the pursuer--showed in every movement,every line of her figure.
She came to the descent, and the pinto, having no desire for applausebut a very great hankering for whole bones in his body, planted hisforefeet and slid to a stop upon the brink. His snort came clearly downto those below who watched.
"He won't tackle it," Pete Lowry predicted philosophically while heturned the camera crank steadily round and round and held himself readyto "panoram" the scene if the pinto bolted.
But the pinto, having Annie-Many-Ponies to reckon with, did not bolt.The braided rein-end of her squaw bridle lashed him stingingly; themoccasined heels dug without mercy into the tender part of his flanks.He came lunging down over the first rim of the bluff; then since hemust, he gathered himself for the ordeal and came leaping down and downand down, gaining momentum with every jump. He could not have stoppedthen if he had tried--and Annie-Many-Ponies, still the incarnation ofeager pursuit, would not let him try.
At the big flat rock of which Jean had warned her, the pinto would haveswerved. But she yanked him into the straighter descent, down over thebank. He leaped, and he fell and slid twice his own length, his noserooting the soil. Annie-Many-Ponies lurched, came hard against a boulderand somehow flung herself into place again on the horse. She liftedhis head and called to him in short, harsh, Indian words. The pintoscrambled to his knees, got to his feet and felt again the sting of therein-end in his flanks. Like a rabbit he came bounding down, downwhere the way was steepest and most treacherous. And at every jump therein-end fell, first on one side and then along the other, as a skilledcanoeman shifts the paddle to force his slight craft forward in atreacherous current.
Down the last slope he came thundering. On his back Annie-Many-Ponieslashed him steadily, straining her eyes in the direction which Jean hadtaken past the camera. She knew that they were watching her--she knewalso that the camera crank in Pete Lowry's hands was turning, turning,recording every move of hers, every little changing expression. Sheswept down upon them so close that Pete grabbed the tripod with onehand, ready to lift it and dodge away from the coming collision. Stillleaning, still lashing and straining every nerve in pursuit, she dashedpast, pivoted the pinto upon his hind feet, darted back toward thestaring group and jumped off while he was yet running.
Now that she had done it; now that she had proven that she also hadnerve and much skill in riding, black loneliness settled upon her again.She came slowly back, and as she came she heard them praise the ride shehad made. She heard them saying how frightened they had been when thepinto fell, and she heard Wagalexa Conka call to her that she had madea strong scene for him. She did not answer. She sat down upon a rock, alittle apart from them, and looking as remote as the Sandias Mountains,miles away to the north, folded her blanket around her and spoke no wordto anyone.
Soon Ramon mounted his horse to return to his camp. He came riding downto her--for his trail lay that way--and as he rode he called to theothers a good natured "Hasta luego!" which is the Mexican equivalent of"See you later." He did not seem to notice Annie-Many-Ponies at all ashe rode past her. He was gazing off down the arroyo and riding with allhis weight on one stirrup and the other foot swinging free, as is thenonchalant way of accustomed riders who would ease their muscles nowand then. But as he passed the rock where she was sitting he murmured,"Tonight by the rock I wait for you, querida mia." Though she gave nosign that she had heard, the heart of Annie-Many-Ponies gave a throb ofgladness that was almost pain.