CHAPTER V.
WHAT THE INDIAN TOLD THE SEER.
In the making of Barbara's Desert the canyon-carving, delta-buildingriver did not count the centuries of its labor; the rock-hewing,beach-forming waves did not number the ages of their toil; the burning,constant sun and the drying, drifting winds were not careful for theyears. Therefore is the time of the real beginning of what happened inthis, the land of my story, unknown.
Somewhere in the eternity that lies back of all the yesterdays, thegreat river found the salt waves of the ocean fathoms deep in what isnow The King's Basin and extending a hundred and seventy miles north ofthe shore that takes their wash to-day. Slowly, through the centuriesof that age of all beginnings, the river, cutting canyons and valleysin the north and carrying southward its load of silt, built from theeast across the gulf to Lone Mountain a mighty delta dam.
South of this new land the ocean still received the river; to the norththe gulf became an inland sea. The upper edge of this new-born sea beathelpless against a line of low, barren hills beyond which lay manymiles of a rainless land. Eastward lay yet more miles of desolatewaste. And between this sea and the parent ocean on the west, extendingsouthward past the delta dam, the mountains of the Coast Range shut outevery moisture-laden cloud and turned back every life-bearing stream.Thus trapped and helpless, the bright waters, with all their life, fellunder the constant, fierce, beating rays of the semi-tropical sun andshrank from the wearing sweep of the dry, tireless winds. Uncountedstill, the centuries of that age also passed and the bottom of that sealay bare, dry and lifeless under the burning sky, still beaten by thepitiless sun, still swept by the scorching winds. The place that hadheld the glad waters with their teeming life came to be an empty basinof blinding sand, of quivering heat, of dreadful death. Unheeding theruin it had wrought, the river swept on its way.
And so--hemmed in by mountain wall, barren hills and rainless plains;forgotten by the ocean; deserted by the river, that thirsty land lay,the loneliest, most desolate bit of this great Western Continent.
But the river could not work this ruin without contributing to thedesert the rich strength it had gathered from its tributary lands.Mingled with the sand of the ancient sea-bed was the silt from farawaymountain and hill and plain. That basin of Death was more than a dustytomb of a life that had been; it was a sepulchre that held the vasttreasure of a life that would be--would be when the ages should havemade also the master men, who would dare say to the river: "Makerestitution!"--men who could, with power, command the rich life withinthe tomb to come forth.
But master men are not the product of years--scarcely, indeed, ofcenturies. The people of my story have also their true beginnings inages too remote to be reckoned. The master passions, the governinginstincts, the leading desires and the driving fears that hew and carveand form and fashion the race are as reckless of the years as are waveand river and sun and wind. Therefore the forgotten land held itswealth until Time should make the giants that could take it.
In the centuries of those forgotten ages that went into the making ofThe King's Basin Desert, the families of men grew slowly into tribes,the tribes grew slowly into nations and the nations grew slowly intoworlds. New worlds became old; and other new worlds were discovered,explored, developed and made old; war and famine and pestilence andprosperity hewed and formed, carved and built and fashioned, even aswave and river and sun and wind. The kingdoms of earth, air and wateryielded up their wealth as men grew strong to take it; the elementsbowed their necks to his yoke, to fetch and carry for him as he grewwise to order; the wilderness fled, the mountains lay bare theirhearts, the waste places paid tribute as he grew brave to command.
Across the wide continent the tracks of its wild life were trodden outby the broad cattle trails, the paths of the herds were marked by thewheels of immigrant wagons and the roads of the slow-moving teamsbecame swift highways of steel. In the East the great cities thatreceived the hordes from every land were growing ever greater. On thefar west coast the crowded multitude was building even as it wasbuilding in the East. In the Southwest savage race succeeded savagerace, until at last the slow-footed padres overtook the swift-footedIndian and the rude civilization made possible by the priests in turnran down the priest.
About the land of my story, forgotten under the dry sky, thisever-restless, ever-swelling tide of life swirled and eddied-swirledand eddied, but touched it not. On the west it swept even to the footof the grim mountain wall. On the east one far-flung ripple reachedeven to the river--when Rubio City was born. But the Desert waited,silent and hot and fierce in its desolation, holding its treasuresunder the seal of death against the coming of the strong ones; waiteduntil the man-making forces that wrought through those long ages shouldhave done also their work; waited for this age--for your age andmine--for the age of the Seer and his companions--for the days of mystory, the days of Barbara and her friends.
The Seer's expedition, returning from the south, made camp on the bankof the Rio Colorado twenty miles below Rubio City. It was the lastnight out. Supper was over and the men, with their pipes andcigarettes, settled themselves in various careless attitudes of reposeafter the long day. Their sun-burned faces, toughened figures and worn,desert-stained clothing testified to their weeks of toil in the openair under the dry sky of an almost rainless land. Some wereold-timers--veterans of many a similar campaign. Two were new recruitson their first trip. All were strong, clean-cut, vigorous specimens ofintelligent, healthy manhood, for in all the professions, not exceptingthe army and navy, there can be found no finer body of men than ourcivil engineers.
Easily they fell to talking of to-morrow night in Rubio City, of bathsand barbers and good beds and clean clothes and dinners and thepleasures of civilization and prospective future jobs. Muchgood-natured chaff was passed with hearty give and take. Jokes that hadbecome time-worn in the many days and nights that the party had beencut off from all other society were revived with fresh interest.Incidents and accidents of the trip were related and reviewed withzest, with here and there a comment on the work itself that was stillfresh in their minds.
Abe Lee, sitting with his back against a wagon-wheel and his long legsstretched straight out in front, listened, enjoying it all in his ownway, taking his share of the chaff with a slow smile, exhaling greatclouds of cigarette smoke and only at rare intervals contributing aword or a short sentence to the talk. Abe was at home with these menout there in the desert night. Under the Chief he was theirmaster--respected, admired and loved. But the old-timers knew thatto-morrow, in town with these same men, dressed in conventional garb,on the street or in the hotel, the surveyor would be as bashful andawkward as a country boy. So they joked him about his numeroussweethearts in Rubio City and related many entirely fictitious loveadventures and romantic experiences that he was said to have passedthrough in different parts of the country during the years they hadknown him. Not one of them but would have been astonished beyond wordshad he known of Abe's adventure the afternoon before they left RubioCity, and how, through every day of the hard, grilling labor with theexpedition, the image of the girl he had watched through his fieldglass was before him.
When the fire of the wits was turned on another mark Abe slowly aroseto his feet and slipped out of the circle. Going quietly to thecook-wagon where the Chinaman sat smoking in solitary grandeur, heasked: "Wing, where is the Chief? I saw him talking to you a littlewhile ago."
"Me no sabe, Boss Abe. Chief, him go off that way." He pointed towardthe river with his long bamboo pipe. "Wing sabe Chief feel velly bad,Boss Abe; damn."
The white man regarded the Chinaman silently for a moment, then:"You're a good boy, Wing. Good night."
"Night, Boss Abe," came the plaintive answer, and the surveyor went onto where a group of Cocopah Indian laborers made their rude camp. Thesehe greeted in Spanish and asked: "Has the Chief been with you sincesupper?"
"No, Senor. He by river there little time past," said one, pointing toa clump of cottonwood trees that rose above a
fringe of willows.
"Buenos noches, hombres," said Abe.
"Buenos noches, Senor," came the chorus of soft voices in the dusk.
On the high bank under the cottonwoods the Seer sat with bowed head. Hedid not heed the broad yellow tide of silt-laden water that swept byhim so silently; he did not see the myriad stars in the velvet sky, nornotice the golden moon climbing slowly up from the dark level of theland. The jovial voices and merry laughter of his men came to him fromthe camp, but he did not hear. To-morrow the expedition would be over,the party disbanded. He would make his report to the capitalists whohad sent him forth. His report!--the Seer groaned. Few words would beneeded to sum up the work of the last two months but it would not beeasy to frame them. His ear caught the snap of a twig and a whiff ofcigarette smoke floated to him. He turned his head quickly. "That you,Abe?"
The long figure of the surveyor settled on the bank by his side. For alittle neither spoke, while the Seer, with slow care, filled andlighted his pipe.
"Well, lad," he said at last, "we have about reached the end of anotherfailure."
"Will you go to New York, sir?"
"No, it will not be necessary. I can write in fifty words all there isto say."
"Perhaps they will send you out again," offered the surveyor.
"Their interest is not strong enough. They only tackled this becausesome other fellows were considering the proposition. That made themthink there might be something in it. If I had the capital to makesurveys and could go to them with data for some other project theymight consider it, but--"
Abe rolled another cigarette and with the first cloud of smoke came theslow words: "Well, then, let's get the data."
Even at what seemed a hopeless suggestion the discouraged heart of theold engineer beat more quickly. He turned his face toward the youngerman. "Where?"
Abe stretched forth a long arm toward the broad Colorado at their feetand toward the desert beyond. "The King's Basin. You've often told meabout that country. If I sabe the lay of the land we're somewhere atthe southern end of it, at the beginning of the high ground of thedelta that shuts out the ocean. There's water enough here for fivetimes that territory."
"Do you mean--" the Seer began quickly and stopped.
"I mean this: you already know the north and northeastern part of theBasin from the railroad. You have been through it from the west on theSan Felipe trail. Send the outfit in to-morrow with the boys. Give themorders on the bank for their pay and let them go. You and I can scoutaround the delta end of that country over there for a week or two andif it looks good, with what you have already seen, you have enough totalk on. Then go on to New York and when you report on the southernproject turn loose on 'em with this."
"Abe," said the engineer thoughtfully, "if anyone but you were topropose that I go before these capitalists to interest them in aproject without ever having put an instrument on it I would knock himdown. Such recklessness would ruin any civil engineer in the world,if--"
"If he guessed wrong," finished Abe dryly.
"If he guessed wrong," admitted the Seer reluctantly.
"If it looked good enough for you to risk an opinion you would havesome strong talking points," ventured Abe. "There must be five hundredthousand acres in that old sea-bed. The Colorado carries water enoughfor five times that area. There's the railroad already built along oneside; there's San Felipe and the whole Coast country within easy reach.It beats the other proposition a hundred to one, if it can be done atall."
The Seer rose and paced up and down in the bright moonlight. Presentlyhe said: "If you accept the position with Hunt up north you should goon at once. That job would be the best thing you ever had. Don't youwant to take it?"
"You know what I want, if you can use me."
"I could manage your present salary for this trip but beyond that youknow how uncertain it all is. Hunt can't wait any longer."
"Look here," said Abe, angrily, "I understood when I made myproposition that our salaries would stop when we cut the outfit. Do youthink I meant for you to take all the risk? I'm only a surveyor and youan educated engineer but this thing means as much to me as it does toyou. Let me share the expense and I'm with you but not on any otherterms. Hunt and his job can go hang. I don't see why you should assumethat it's only my pay that I work for." It was a long speech for Abe.
The engineer put his big hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thank you,Abe," he said. "That does me good. I've always known that it was there.But it's a hard road, lad, a mighty hard road!" Then: "I wonder if wehave an Indian in the outfit who knows this country."
"Yes, sir," Abe answered promptly. "Jose knows it well. I've beenpumping him for a month. I'll get him."
As the tall figure of the surveyor disappeared in the direction of theOocopah camp the Seer smiled to himself. "Been pumping him for amonth," he repeated. "That means that he saw almost before I did thatthe other proposition was no good. Humph!"
He faced toward the river and looked away into the night where TheKing's Basin lay--a weird dream-country under the light of the moon.And because it was impossible to think of Barbara's Desert withoutthinking of Barbara he smiled again, musing that there would be littlesleep that night for the girl in Rubio City if she knew what he and Abewere considering. From across the river came the shrill, snarling,yelping coyote chorus and the engineer saw again the body of a deadwoman at the dry water hole, an empty canteen, and a big-eyed,brown-haired baby stretching out her arms to him.
While the Seer was too careful an engineer to take quickly thesuggestion of Abe, he had seen too many tests of the desert-bredsurveyor's genius not to consider his proposition seriously. He wasalso too much of a dreamer not to be influenced by thoughts of Barbaraand her association in his mind with this particular project. Could itbe that the land which had so tragically given the child into his lifewas now to realize his dreams of Reclamation.
He was interrupted by the return of Abe, who was followed by an old,grizzly-haired Cocopah.
"Tell the Chief what you have told me, Jose," said the surveyor and,stepping aside, he rolled the inevitable cigarette with an air oftaking himself wholly out of the matter under consideration.
"You sabe that country over there, Jose?" asked the Chief.
"Si, Senor," came the soft answer, and reaching out, the Indian gentlyturned the engineer so that the latter stood with his back squarely tothe river. Taking the Seer's right hand and holding it outstretchedwith open palm upward in one of his own and tracing with the otherdark-skinned finger, as one might trace on a relief map, he continuedin Spanish, as he drew his finger carefully along the white man's thumbfrom the wrist: "Here are the mountains that shut out the country bythe Big Sea where is San Felipe. I go there once, long time ago. Mypeople live there." He indicated the space between the first and secondjoints of the thumb. Next he touched the base of the Seer's littlefinger. "Here is Rubio City." Then tracing the outer rim of the palmtoward the wrist: "Here are the hills, and the railroad that the Senormade." His finger paused in the depression between the base of thethumb and the outer edge of the palm at the wrist. "The Senor'srailroad goes through the Pass in the high mountains here." Next, fromthe outer edge of the hand he traced across the palm at the base of thefingers. "The river goes this way to the big water that comes in fromthe sea here." He indicated the open space between the extended thumband the inner edge of the palm.
"We stand now here." He touched the base of the Seer's index finger."It is The Hollow of God's Hand, Senor--La Palma de la Mano de Dios,"he repeated reverently. He dropped the engineer's hand and stoodquietly waiting to be questioned.
Again the Seer put forth his hand and pointing with his own finger tothe inner edge of the palm between the base of the index finger and thethumb, he asked: "The land is high here?"
"Si, Senor, a little. Just like the hand. It is much low here." Hetouched the deepest part of the palm. "And a little high here where westand. Sometimes when much water comes the river goes all over here."He indicated th
e extreme inner edge of the palm. "Most always thiswater go all this way"--toward the open space between the thumb andpalm. "Sometimes a little goes here." He traced the lines that crossthe palm towards the wrist.
"You can show us this country?"
"Si, Senor."
"How long will it take?"
"What you like. From here to Lone Mountain straight--maybe one day go,maybe two day go."
"There is water?"
MAP OF LA PALMA DE LA MANO DE DIOS (THE HOLLOW Of GOD'SHAND) DRAWN BY ALLEN KELLY TECOLOTE RANCHO 1911]
"Si. Much water left from the river last time big water come."
The Chief looked at the silent Abe, then back to the old Indian. "Allright, Jose; we go in the morning--you, Senor Lee and I. Be ready."
"Si, Senor. Buenos noches, Senores."
"Good night! Good night!" returned the two white men.
There was much conjecturing among the surprised surveyors next morning,when the Chief gave to each man his pay check and placed an old-timerin charge with instructions as to the disposition of the outfit whenthey should arrive in Rubio City.
Two loaded pack-mules and three saddle ponies were ready when the Seerhad finished his business with the men. Good-bys were spoken all aroundand the Seer and Abe, with Jose in the lead, turned back toward thesouth.
"Looks like they had forgotten something," said one of the recruits asthe group stood watching the little party jog steadily into thedistance, apparently retracing the tracks the expedition had made theday before.
"Sonny," remarked the veteran left in charge, "what one of that pairforgets the other is dead sure to remember. All the signs say thatthey're makin' big medicine. All we have to do with it is to push forRubio City pronto and cash our pay checks. Lord! but wouldn't I like tobe in it," he added regretfully as he turned away.
With provisions for three weeks on the pack-animals and the assuranceof Jose that there was feed and water in the overflow lands for thehorses, the Seer and Abe proposed to cover most of the territory lyingbetween the Rio Colorado and Lone Mountain. It was here that the greatriver, in the ages long past, had built the delta dam, thus cutting offthe northern end of the gulf that was now The King's Basin Desert. Itwas their plan to follow this high land that separated the ocean fromthe Basin to the mountains, then to work back as far out in the Basinfrom water and feed as they could. They would then follow the river onthe Basin side to Rubio City.
They had barely passed beyond sight of the main party when Jose turneddirectly toward the river. At that stage of water a long bar put outinto the stream and from its point the current set strongly toward theopposite bank.
"Here we cross," said the Indian briefly.
Constructing a rude raft for their supplies and swimming the animals,they reached the other shore some distance below the point of launchingwith no accident, and that night camped well back from the river on thedelta land.
Day after day they rode from sunrise until dark; studying the land,estimating distances and grades, observing the courses of the channelscut by the overflow and the marks of high water, noting the characterof the soil and the vegetation; sometimes together, sometimesseparated; with Jose to select their camping places and to help themwith his Indian knowledge of the country.
And always at night, after the long hard day, when supper--cooked bytheir own hands--was over, with pipe and cigarettes they reviewed theirobservations and compared notes, summing up the results before rollingin their blankets to sleep under the stars.
Some day, perhaps, when the world is much older and very much wiser,Civilization will erect a proper monument to the memory of such men asthese. But just now Civilization is too greedily quarreling over itsnewly acquired wealth to acknowledge its debt of honor to those whomade this wealth possible.
But the Seer and his companion concerned themselves with no suchthoughts as these. They thought only of the possibility of convertingthe thousands of acres of The King's Basin Desert into productivefarms. For this they conceived to be their work.
They had worked across the Basin to Lone Mountain and back to the riverto a point nearly opposite the clump of cotton woods where they hadleft the expedition. To-morrow night they would be in Rubio City.
"Abe," said the Seer, "our intake would go in right here. We couldfollow the old channel of Dry River with our canal about twenty milesout, put in a heading and lead off our mains and laterals."
For two or three hours they discussed plans and estimates, then theengineer shut his note-book with a snap. "If those New Yorkers don'tlisten to what I can tell them of this country now they're a whole lotslower than I take them to be."
"Then you think you will make a guess on the proposition," asked Abeslyly.
The Seer laughed like a boy. "I start for New York to-morrow night," heanswered.
In the afternoon of the next day they struck the San Felipe trail a fewmiles from Rubio City. Perhaps it was the sight of that old road, withits memories for the Seer and his companion, that led the engineer tosay: "It's curious, Abe, but I can't shake off the odd feeling thatBarbara's life is somehow wrapped up in that country out there." As hespoke he turned in his saddle to look back toward the Basin. "She seemsto belong to it somehow as, in a way, it belongs to her. There is alook in her eyes sometimes that makes me think of the desert and thedesert always reminds me of her. I know one thing," he finished with ashort laugh, "if I was to let out some of the fancies that have come tome in this connection it would ruin me forever so far as my professiongoes."
Abe made no reply, possibly because he also had fancies--fancies thathe could not tell even to the Seer.
It is astonishing what a great cloud of dust five animals can stir upon a desert trail. As the little outfit jogged slowly along, the greatyellow mass rolled up into the air high above their heads and hung--along, slow-drifting streamer--above the trail until it vanished in thedistance.
Barbara, who was riding out from town on the Mesa, saw that cloud andstopped to study it intently for a few moments as if debating somequestion. Then touching her animal with the spur, she set off rapidlyin the direction of the approaching horsemen; while the two men watchedthe dust that arose from the single horse's feet with the interest thattravelers in lonely lands always feel in any life that chances to cometheir way.
"Abe, that's a woman," exclaimed the Seer after a time.
Abe said nothing. He had discovered that interesting fact some momentsbefore.
The engineer rose in his stirrups. "Abe, I'll bet a month's salary it'sBarbara."
"I'm not gambling," returned the other, smiling at his companion'sexcitement. "I know it is."
The big engineer dropped into his saddle with a grunt of disgust."Young man, you've got eyes like a buzzard," he said, twisting about toface his companion. "By all traditions I suppose I should say 'eagle,'but you certainly don't look much like that noble king of birds. You'recarrying dirt enough to bury a horse."
The Seer took off his sombrero and began beating the dust from his ownshoulders, while the surveyor looked on in silent amusement.
"She'll think by the dust you're a-raisin' that there's some kind of ascrap goin' on and that she'd better head the other way."
"Not much she wouldn't head the other way from a scrap. She would comeon all the faster. I thought you knew Barbara better than that." Hereplaced his hat. "Why Abe, one time when she was--"
The surveyor interrupted his Chief by standing up in his stirrups inturn and swinging his hat in greeting, while the Seer, in waving hisown sombrero and whooping like a wild man, forgot what he was about torelate.
The girl came on at a run and--guiding her horse between the twodust-covered men--held out a hand to each.
The Winning of Barbara Worth Page 7