Bloom of Cactus

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Bloom of Cactus Page 8

by Robert Ames Bennet


  CHAPTER VIII

  CACTUS CARMENA

  Immediately after the armistice Carmena and Elsie went down to attendthe goats and chickens that were penned in small enclosures a shortdistance up-valley from the cliff house. The girls also gathered asupply of fresh vegetables from a nearby kitchen garden. At dusk therope ladder was hauled up.

  In the morning Carmena took Lennon to see the valley. She had roped apair of ponies near the garden enclosure. Though the rifles werecarried, no occasion arose that called for use of the weapons. TheApaches in charge of the stock merely grunted in response to Carmena'sfriendly greeting and stared stolidly as she and Lennon rode by.

  All the other Indians seemed to have left the valley. But Carmena saidthat guards were always posted in the two main exits. Escape up Devil'sChute with a horse was impossible.

  Beyond the narrow mouth of the Chute canon the two skirted along theedge of the flourishing cornfields and the hay pastures of the lowervalley. All the way they followed an irrigation canal of the ancientcliff dwellers that had been restored to use. It curved and twistedalong the higher ground under the towering cliff walls.

  At the foot of the Hole the valley narrowed, funnel-like, into a ratherwide box canon. The canon bed offered a broad level runway down which ahorse could have sprinted at top speed.

  Carmena caught the glance of pleased surprise that Lennon fixed upon aheavy farm wagon that stood inside the mouth of the canon.

  "It's not so easy as you think," she said. "There's a thirty-foot cliffabout a mile down. Nothing has ever come in or gone out that way exceptby rope, and the windlass is always guarded. Hell Canon is no easier. Itforks, and the forks both fork twice, and there's only one branch youcan get out through. We might be able to make it, either route. Butthere's Dad and Elsie."

  "You spoke of bringing about a difference between Cochise and Slade,"said Lennon. "What is your plan?"

  "It all depends. I have several ideas. One is to offer Slade a share inyour copper-mine deal. But we'll hold that back. He knows that mattersmust soon come to a show-down with the bunch. Cochise has been gettingharder to hold for the past three years. You know, he claims that Elsiebelongs to him."

  Lennon stared in amazement.

  "What! your sister--that little pink and white blossom?"

  "But she's not really my sister. That's the pinch. Cochise brought herwith him when he first came to the Hole, two years before Slade. Heclaimed he had found her over beyond Triple Butte. She was crazed fromthirst--never has been able to remember what had happened or anythingabout her life before she came here."

  "My word! Has no inquiry ever been made for her? Did you not advertise?What were her clothes like?"

  "Rags and tatters. No one came. Nobody outside knows there is such aplace as Dead Hole, except by vague report. Dad and I just happened tostumble into it. About advertising Elsie, we tried that some. There wasno answer. We think she belonged to a stray family, out prospecting. Theothers must have died of thirst."

  "Or were murdered by Cochise," put in Lennon.

  Carmena's eyes narrowed.

  "Maybe--maybe not. It was just after he jumped the Reservation. But hewas only a sulky schoolboy then, playing hookey. Besides, he had notharmed the child. He worked for Dad and was right decent, till he got inwith Slade and the--business started."

  Lennon was not to be diverted to another subject. The mystery of Elsie'sparentage intrigued him. With the realization that the two girls werenot of blood kin, Lennon found himself dwelling upon the differencesbetween them. Elsie, cleared of any kinship to Farley, at once became inhis thoughts a being of finer nature than her foster-sister.

  In contrast, Carmena now seemed to show distinctly the taint of Farley'sblood. Her frank manner took on the tinge of boldness. Her vigour andstrength now seemed mannish, if not coarse.

  Might not what he had taken for high spirit and courage be no more thancallous hardihood? Was there not a certain garishness about her richcolouring? And was all the brown of her skin on the outside? Both herhair and eyes were dark, and there was her Spanish name--Carmena. Wasshe not, in part, of Mexican blood?

  Some hint of Lennon's thoughts may have shown in his expression.Otherwise the girl's next remark was pure coincidence:

  "Ever since Slade added tizwin to the business, I've had to be prettymuch the man of the family. He persuaded us that Dad would die without alot of stimulant. That's how he got hold of Dad. Once the habit wasfixed, I couldn't break Dad of it. With you here, I'm hoping he mayremember his old grit and pride, and brace up."

  "But about your--foster-sister," said Lennon.

  "Isn't she just too sweet for anything!" broke in Carmena. "I've triedto be the cactus fence to guard her against the trampling beasts."

  "Such as this Cochise. You say he claims her?"

  "For the last three years. Indian girls marry young. He'd have kicked away through the cactus fence before this, if it hadn't been for Slade.You know, Slade has his own bunch of Navaho punchers. So, you see,Cochise has to----"

  Carmena stopped to point across the upper end of the valley.

  "Talk of the devil----" she exclaimed.

  Over below the cliff house Lennon saw a small group of mounted menwaiting for the basket that was being lowered to them on the hoist rope.

  "If it's only Elsie's pies; if only they haven't bluffed Dad intosending down a jug of tizwin!" murmured Carmena.

  "We've been outplayed. We can't get back," said Lennon. "Shall I drivethem off again with my rifle?"

  "No. Cochise agreed to wait for Slade. I'm going to make him stick toit. We'll ride on around. Maybe they'll not wait."

  The two had loped along under the precipices on the northwest side ofthe valley and were already near Hell Canon, at the upper end. The mouthof the canon belied its name. The bed, though rocky, was neither steepnor broken. Along the ledges of the cliff foot a canal had been chiseledin the solid rock by the cliff-dwellers. A small stream was flowingthrough it, down around the left corner of the canon mouth.

  Carmena noticed the look of professional interest that Lennon fixed uponthe ancient water way.

  "You're an engineer," she said. "Pretty good piece of irrigation workfor those old mummies, isn't it? All we had to do was rebuild the intakedam and clean out the ditch. Here's the tank."

  The ponies slowed to a walk up the side of an enormous natural pothole,which the ancient builders had converted into a storage reservoir bymeans of an earthen dam.

  Carmena jumped her pony across the intake canal and loped ahead towardthe cliff house. Lennon was too intent upon overtaking her to more thanglance at the stand of rough-made beehives, the kitchen garden, and thegoat and chicken sheds, past which his pony galloped.

  Carmena reined in to jerk her thumb at a tumbledown brush hut.

  "Our home, till Slade got up the cliff."

  "How?"

  "Piecing ladders together, one a-top the other. There are our callers;and it's pie, thank goodness. Keep your gun down. Shake hands, if theyoffer; but let me do the talking."

  "If you wish."

  "I do. The one all in white man's clothes is Cochise. Next him, with theMex sombrero, is Pete. He's one of Slade's Navahos. He stands in withCochise, and I stand in with him. Sabe?"

  "You mean he's your man--tips you off--all that?"

  "Yes. I think we'll be able to count on him later, when it comes to theshow-down. Don't forget now: That run 'cross the Basin never happened.We're all heap good friends and pards."

  Lennon nodded. He did not fancy the situation, but he was willing forthe time being to trust to his companion's lead. Side by side they rodeup and stopped before the seven Indians. Lennon looked them over withthe cool direct gaze of the dominant white man.

  Five of them were replicas of the herdsmen down the valley. Pete theNavaho--he of the Mexican sombrero--also wore Mexican leg-buttonedbreeches and a red cotton shirt, the tails of which hung outside. Helooked to be the youngest of the group. He and Cochise were the onlyones who
did not avoid Lennon's eye.

  Cochise the Apache leader proved a surprise to Lennon. He was as youngas the white man and far from ugly. Though his head, under his oldcowboy hat, was as square and massive as the cloth-bound heads of theother Apaches, and his shoulders were still broader, his face might havebelonged to a Sicilian or Andalusian aristocrat--swarthy, bold-featured,and handsome.

  Carmena raised her voice in cheerful greeting: "How, boys!--_Buenoamigo_, Pete. Howdy, Cochise. Fine day. Hope the pie was good. Shakewith Jack, our new partner."

  The Apache leader wiped the pie juice from his short, small hands uponhis leather chaps, and replied with a show of geniality:

  "Howdy. Fine day. Glad to meet new pard. Shake."

  Lennon offered his left hand. His bridle reins and rifle were looselyheld in his bandaged right. Carmena was thrusting her rifle into itssaddle-sheath. Instead of clasping hands, palm to palm, Cochise clutchedLennon's wrist in a grip that almost crushed the bones. His other handclosed on the hilt of a knife.

  "Sit still, Jack," murmured Carmena.

  The warning was needless. Lennon had not stirred in his saddle or madethe slightest attempt to struggle.

  "Who's the liar now, Cochise?" reproached Carmena. "You said you'd waittill Slade came."

  "I catch your pard. I keep him till Slade come. Then I have my fun. Youswap my woman for him, I let him go now."

  The girl smiled.

  "Maybe you'll let him go anyway, _amigo_. I've got you covered, and Ifigure the first bullet will go through that pie you just ate."

  The glittering black eyes of the Apache shot a sidelong glance downtoward the girl's right hand. It had slipped into a pocket in the foldof her divided skirt. Her smile widened.

  "Think it over," she advised. "What happens to us won't be any fun toyou after you've got yours."

  The steel-sinewed fingers that were clutched about Lennon's wristopened.

  "All dam' good joke--arm handshake," the Apache sought to explain awayhis treacherous attempt. "Make sure you got nerve. Sabe? Guess I got togo. Good-bye."

  "Oh, do stay and visit a bit longer," Carmena smilingly urged him. "Wecan talk a while with you and Pete. But the others may as well bestarting, don't you think?"

  Something in her pocket thrust up the fold of her skirt. Cochisemuttered a word or two that sent the other Apaches loping off down thevalley. When they were some distance away, Carmena nodded almost gaily:

  "Well, boys, I suppose the pie is all gone. So, if you feel you have togo, too.... Good-bye, Pete. Maybe you know, Cochise, it's sometimes asign of bad luck to look back or drop off your horse."

  The two Indians wheeled their ponies and loped after the others.

  Cochise did not look back.

 

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