XV
THE PONIES ARE FOUND
The following day the boy sergeants rose from their beds fullyrefreshed, and after breakfast began to explore the town. They madesome purchases in the stores, and found much amusement in watching abevy of Mojave Indian girls buying pigments to be used in adorningtheir necks, arms, and faces. Following the bronze maidens to theshore of a lagoon that backed up to the town from the river, theyseated themselves beneath a cottonwood and witnessed the designing oftracings in many colors, made with endless and musical chatterings,accompanied by an evident consciousness that they were objects ofinterest to two pale-face boys.
After completing the tinting the girls would walk about for a whileand display their work to admiring friends, and then plunge into andswim about the lagoon with the ease and grace of a lot of mermaids;emerging with no trace left of their recent ornamentation, they wouldproceed to renew it in different designs, and take another swim.
"Quite like watering-place belles with extensive wardrobes," remarkedFrank.
"And takes about as long to put on the paint as to put on afashionable dress," said Henry, "but not so long to remove it."
Another thing that amused the boys was a _balsa_, or raft, made by theMojaves, of the cane-grass which grew in the river-bottoms to theheight of fifteen feet. A large bundle bound at the ends with grassropes would sustain two men. The boys borrowed one of an Indian girl,who was sitting in the shade of some willows prinking herselfartistically with an original and intricate pigmentary pattern.Stepping on board, they paddled about the lagoon for a considerableperiod.
Tiring at last of the sport, they separated, Frank saying that he wasgoing for his shot-gun, and perhaps shoot for some quail, and Henrythat he meant to find Tom Clary and set some lines for catfish.
The younger sergeant failing to find the soldier, selected a line,and, procuring some bait, returned alone to the lagoon. On his way hemet the Indian girl walking along the sidewalk, an object ofadmiration and envy to the men and women of her people. Her bronzeflesh was adorned with a lacelike tracery of beautiful design, in manytints.
"How exceedingly pretty!" said Henry, in Spanish, a language fairlywell understood by the aborigines of the Southwest.
"I, or my paint?" asked the girl, coquettishly.
"The paint is well put on; but I think you prettiest just after aswim."
"Thank you, senor."
"May I use the balsa again, Indita?"
"Si, senor, and you may keep it, but return the paddle."
"Thank you. I will leave the paddle on the shore where you weresitting."
With this exchange of civilities Henry walked down to the pool. Anidea had occurred to him. He wondered if he could not float down theriver to the racing-ground and get a peep at Sancho and Chiquita, asthey came in victors. He felt sure no ponies in Arizona could outrunthem. But Mr. Duncan had told the escort not to go to the race. True;but what harm could there be if he kept out of sight?
Placing an empty box on the raft for a seat, he took Vic on board, andbegan paddling out of the lagoon. Speed could not be made with such acraft; it was simply a convenience for crossing or journeying down theriver. The Mojaves, whose village was five miles above La Paz, camedown on freshly made _balsas_ every day, but walked home, carryingtheir paddles.
Once well out of the lagoon, and in the river-current, the boy and dogwere swept along at a swift rate.
A mile down the shore he saw a crowd of men, mounted and on foot,intently watching something inland. He was approaching therace-course. He made a landing on a sand-spit that struck off from anoutward curve of the bank, and dragged the _balsa_ out of the water.
The shore rose abruptly from the bar to a height two feet above hishead. He lifted and boosted Vic up, and seizing the long tufts ofoverhanging grass and thrusting his feet into the loops of willowroots, drew himself to the higher level and crept into a screen of lowbushes.
Peering through the branches, Henry saw a straight-away course,parallel to the river, bordered for three hundred yards with themotley crowd of a mining and Indian country. At the northern end ofthe course was a group of ten ponies, out of which he found nodifficulty in discovering two, a black and a cream-color, andrecognizing in them the property of his brother and himself. In hisopinion they were the handsomest animals in the group.
At the fourth signal--a pistol-shot--the ponies got away. Down thethree-hundred-yard track they sped, and over the last fourth the blackand cream-color led by a length, crossing the goal with Sancho half aneck in advance. Of course the little sergeant knew they would beat,and in spite of his sorrow at the loss of his ponies--intensified bythis stolen sight of them--he could not refrain from clapping hishands and saying, aloud, "Bravo, Sancho! Bravita, Chiquita!"
The subdued cheer was promptly answered by a succession of barks atthe foot of the tree, and Vic, interpreting the boy's clapping andspeech to mean that she was free to go, dashed off at the top of herspeed for the race-course, and to its southern end, where the victorswere now held by their dismounted riders. Vic bounded wildly aboutthem for a few moments, and then, standing still, Henry saw each horsein turn place its nose to the dog's nose. One of the men struck thedog sharply with the loop of his bridle-rein, and as she fled back inthe direction of the tree in which the boy was, he saw the riders holda brief consultation and then follow the dog.
Henry, perceiving he was discovered, let himself down from the tree.Texas Dick and Jumping Jack approached.
"Ven aca, muchacho" (Come here, boy), said the Mexican.
Henry did not stir, and Dick said to his companion, in Spanish: "Hedoes not understand your lingo. I will try him in English: Come here,boy."
Henry had not disregarded Juan's summons for any particular reason,but the remark of Dick gave him an idea. By pretending ignorance ofSpanish he might learn something that would be of advantage to him.Accordingly, he came forward when Dick spoke.
"From Fort Whipple, ain't yer, sonny?"
"I am."
"D' ye know these critters?"
"The black is my brother's, the light is mine."
"Lookin' on 'em up, I s'pect?"
"We shall take them, if we can."
"You see, I was right," continued Dick to his companion, in Spanish."They came here to take these horses."
"Then we better call for the prize, collect our stakes, and leave,"said Juan.
"Where shall we go?" asked Dick. "Arizona's getting uncomfortable forme, and your kin across the Mexican line don't love you."
"Valgame Dios, no! Let's cross the river and go to San Diego or LosAngeles."
"Estar bueno. Come with us, youngster," he added, in English; "andmind ye keep a quiet tongue in yer head or ye'll have no head to wagit in after ye've spoke."
Henry followed the men to the head of the race-course, where theyreceived their prizes and winnings, and withdrew to the river-bank.There they divided the money and held a conference.
"We'd better cross the river to-night and camp at El Rincon untilmorning, and then strike for Dos Palmas and the coast."
"Shall we leave our monte and other stuff in town?" asked Juan.
"No; you stay here and take care of the boy, and I'll go back and sellout. Anastacio Barela will buy. Look sharp that the young soldier doesnot send a message by his dog. I heard lots of strange stories of herperformances in that line at Prescott. I will bring down something forour supper and the road."
Dick galloped away, leaving the Mexican and Henry to await his return.As the twilight deepened into darkness the boy's thoughts grew moreand more despondent. He now fully and sadly realized that hisdisobedience of orders had brought disgrace upon himself, and ruinedevery chance of recovering the ponies, for once the thieves got wellaway they were secure from capture.
It was night when Dick returned and told the Mexican that he had madean advantageous sale of their gambling outfit.
"Now, kid, ye kin slope," he said, addressing the disheartened lad."Tell the lieutenant that he kin lo
ok for us at Hermosilla, on theother side of the Mexican bound'ry. Good-bye."
Henry hurried away towards La Paz, with Vic close at his heels. Therewas no occasion for haste, for he felt that nothing in the town couldovertake the lost Sancho and Chiquita; still he hurried and stumbledon in the darkness.
"Oh, Vicky," said the boy, in his misery, stooping to caress hiscompanion, "I ought to be court-martialled and dishonorably dischargedfrom the service for this. I have done very wrong. I have lost ourponies for good."
The dog licked his hand sympathetically, and then suddenly boundedaway, barking, and Henry heard Frank's voice say:
"Why, Tom, here's Vic!"
"Thin Sargint Hinery must be near," said the soldier.
"Yes, I'm here, Frank--and oh, Frank, I'm in such trouble!" And in acuriously jumbled and half-incoherent manner Henry related hisafternoon's experience.
At the conclusion of the recital the three held a consultation as towhat was best to be done. Time was precious, and the town was nearlytwo miles distant.
"Sargints," said Private Tom Clary, "I belave we can do bist byoursilves. Me afthernoon's lave ixpires at tattoo, but if, as meshuparior officers, ye'll allow me to be out of camp a bit longer, Ithink we can sarcumvint the thaves."
"We'll do our best to get you excused by the lieutenant," said Frank.
"Thank you, sargint laddie. You say the grass-boat is near by, SargintHinery?"
"Not far from here, Tom. Just west of the middle of the race-course."
"And the thaves are going to camp and cook their supper on the otherside?"
"So they said."
"Thin we'll attimpt to interfare with their arrangemints. I think theliftinint will commind an 'absence without lave' if we bring in theraskils and the ponies."
The soldier and boys turned, and, bidding Vic keep close to them,hurried to the bar where Henry had left the gift of the Mojave belle.As they were lifting the elastic raft into the water they heard thevoices of men on the river, accompanied by the splashing of water, andknew that the horse-thieves were fording the stream.
The Colorado was shoal, having an average autumnal depth of four feetat La Paz. Clary secured two poles from the river debris lodged on thebar, one for Frank and one for himself. Henry sat on the box in themiddle, holding his companions' guns across his lap with one hand, andgrasping Vic's collar with the other. The well-filled game-bags laybetween his feet.
The _balsa_ moved slowly towards the opposite shore and swiftlydown-stream, the stalwart Irish soldier's feet settling into theloosely bound stems as he poled. Becoming alarmed when he found thewater standing above his ankles, he called, in a subdued undertone:
"Sargint Frank, I belave I shall go through the bottom of this l'akycraft before we git across."
"Take Henry's paddle, Tom; it lies on the right side of the box. Layit across the reeds and stand on it."
"Ah, sure and that's betther. Kape yer ind a little more up-strame,sargint. We'll steer by the avening star."
In a few minutes the _balsa_ lodged against the shore in the stillwater of a little cove. The boys and soldier were aware that they werelanding some miles below their starting-point, for the current wasstrong and swift, while the horse-thieves had forded the river almostin a direct line. They climbed the bank, and ordering Vic to keepclose by them, began to move as fast as possible up the shore.
They had made their way for nearly an hour over a rough and miryriver-bottom when the setter showed sudden excitement and begansniffing to the right and left.
"She must have struck their path from the river to theircamping-place, Tom," said Frank. "Look sharp, Vicky, look sharp!"
"But she seems to be working up-stream," said Henry. "I should thinkthey would have gone straight inland."
"There's an excillint rayson for that, sargint laddie," returnedClary. "One of the routes t' th' coast begins exactly opposite th'town, and they must go up-strame to foind it; El Rincon thelanding-place is called."
"The Corner?"
"Yis, Th' Corner. Th' shore binds out there a wee bit."
Man and boys continued to struggle along, until across a level,grassless plot they saw, near a clump of cottonwoods, a fire, whereTexas Dick and Jumping Jack were plainly visible, cooking theirsupper. On the side of the fire opposite the river were two saddles,upon which rested their rifles and revolvers. Still farther west thetwo ponies were picketed and grazing.
Clary told Henry to go to the ponies and stay there with Vic, while heand Frank crept upon the thieves. Screening themselves behind tuftsand swells, and lastly behind the saddles, they worked across thelevel, the sound of their moving being covered by the booming andrushing of the mighty river. When within twenty yards of the fire andfive from the saddles, Private Tom Clary sprang to his feet, aimed hisdouble-barrelled shot-gun at the thieves, and shouted:
"Throw up your arrums!"
At the same instant Frank made a flying leap for the saddles, andseized the rifles and revolvers. Henry ran forward and assisted hisbrother in keeping Dick and Juan under the muzzles of their ownrifles, while Clary securely bound them. This accomplished, the boyswent back for a moment to renew their acquaintance with their horses.Yes, the chase was over, and their favorites were again in theirpossession; and it cannot appear strange that the young soldiers wentinto boyish ecstasies of delight at their good-fortune, embracing,patting, and talking to Sancho and Chiquita as if they understood allthat was said to them.
But at last they joined Clary at the fire, and the three, while theycontinued to carry on the interrupted cooking of their captives,discussed ways and means of returning to La Paz, and it was decided tosend the setter with a message. A note was pencilled on a page ofFrank's diary, attached to Vic's collar, and she was taken to theriver-bank and given a stick, with orders to deliver it to her master.With but little hesitation she plunged into the murky current, andsoon disappeared in the darkness in the direction of the other shore.
While the boy sergeants were going through these adventures I remainedin La Paz. At retreat and tattoo roll-calls Corporal Duffey hadreported Private Clary absent, adding the words "and unaccounted for,"and at Mr. Gray's table the boys were absent from supper.
At first I gave myself no anxiety over the absentees, but at midnight,becoming alarmed, I began a search for them. I soon learned that Henryhad been seen to paddle out of the lagoon on a Mojave _balsa_,accompanied by Vic, and that Frank and Clary had gone quail-shooting.I did not feel especially anxious about the older boy, for he was inthe company of one of the most trustworthy of our veteran soldiers,and would probably soon turn up safe. But Henry--gone down theturbulent river on a frail bundle of grass--what might I not fear?
I led all the men of the detail--every one of them as anxious asmyself--on a long and fruitless search beside the river, withoutcoming upon a clew. Returning to Mr. Gray's, and dismissing the men, Isat upon the veranda alone, sadly reflecting upon the absence of myyoung companions and Vic.
In the midst of my sad reflections there scrambled up the steps a wetand bedraggled dog, who dropped at my feet a chip. Carrying her in myarms to my room, I lighted a lamp and examined her collar, and found afew leaves of a memorandum-book covered with Frank's hand-writing.
The news of Vic's arrival with a message spread quickly, and soon thehousehold was gathered in my room and in possession of the news of theexploit of the boys and Tom Clary.
"Good! good!" exclaimed the director of the Navigation Company. "Comewith me to the _Cocopah_. We'll steam across and get the whole party."
On the western shore of the Colorado, Private Tom Clary and the boysergeants sat by the fire broiling quail, which they seasoned from thesupplies of Texas Dick and Juan Brincos, and accompanied by slices oftoasted bread from the same source. In the midst of their enjoyment of"quail on toast" a loud "who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!" came acrossthe river.
"Hullo!" said Henry; "the old _Cocopah_ is starting for the Gulfmighty early. I should think the pilot would find it difficult to keepoff
the shores when it is so dark."
The boys could see by the boat's changing lights that her bow, whichhad been headed up-stream, when she lay at the bank, was swingingslowly out into the stream, and they expected shortly to see herstarboard lights as she headed downward. But she seemed to pause, withher furnace fires and pilot lanterns pointing towards them.
"Who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!--patter, patter, patter." The noise ofthe steamer grew louder and louder, until the boys rose from theirseats and stared in surprise at the rapidly growing lights.
"I really believe she is coming here," said Frank.
"She is, or she nades a dale of space to turn in," observed PrivateTom.
Presently two tall smoke-stacks separated themselves from the darknessand appeared high above their heads.
"Ahoy there, boys!" shouted the captain's voice from the bridge.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Frank.
"Get ready to come on board! Below there--stand by to lowergang-plank! Now!--lower away!"
Down came the plank, and a joyous group of friends walked down to theshore to greet the boys and the soldier.
A few moments afterwards the boy sergeants led their ponies on board,and Private Tom Clary escorted the prisoners. The _Cocopah_ clearedaway and paddled back to the La Paz side, where Texas Dick and JuanBrincos were turned over to the civil authorities, and Sancho andChiquita to the escort in Mr. Gray's corral.
Three days later the boys and I took leave of Mr. Hudson, who was nowin charge of the government storehouse, and, accompanied by Mr. Gray,started for Fort Whipple. Hanging under the hind axle of the ambulancewas a ten-gallon keg, and inside was another. We left La Paz early inthe morning and arrived at Tyson's Wells at nine o'clock. Remainingthere until six o'clock in the evening, we watered our animals, andwith freshly filled kegs started for Hole-in-the-Plain, where westayed until the following evening, the animals passing the day ongrass without water. A second night-drive brought us to CisternasNegras, and the third to Date Creek, from which last point we resumedtravelling by daylight.
At Skull Valley, at the earnest request of Miss Brenda Arnold, Henrywas allowed to remain for a few days' visit. He promised to join thenext incoming mail-rider, and to ride back to the fort by way of themountain-trail.
Captured by the Navajos Page 15