The Round-Up: A Romance of Arizona; Novelized from Edmund Day's Melodrama

by Marion Mills Miller, Edmund Day, and John Murray

  CHAPTER XII

  The Land of Dead Things

  Forth to the land of dead things, through the cities that areforgotten, fared Dick Lane. Tricked by his friend, with the woman heloved lost to him, he wandered onward.

  Automatically he took up again his quest for buried treasure. Thatwhich in the flush of youthful enthusiasm and roseate prospects of lifeand love had seized him as a passion was now a settled habit. Andfortunately so, for it kept him from going mad. He had no thought ofgain--only the achievement of a purpose, a monomania.

  With this impulse was conjoined a more volitional motive--he wished torevenge himself upon the Apaches, and chiefly upon the renegade McKee,whom he supposed still to be with them. Somehow he blamed him, ratherthan Jack Payson, as being the chief cause of his miseries. "If he hadnot stolen the buried gold, I would have returned in time," hemuttered. "He is at the bottom of all this. As I walked away from Jackin the garden, I felt as if it was McKee that was following me with hisblack, snaky eyes."

  Accordingly, Dick directed his way to a region reputed to be both richin buried treasure and infested by hostile Indians.

  The fable of the Quivira, the golden city marked now by the ruins ofthe Piro pueblo of Tabiri, south of the salt-deposits of the Manzano,is still potent in Arizona and New Mexico to lure the treasure-seeker.Three hundred and fifty years ago it inspired a march across the plainsthat dwarfs the famous march of the Greeks to the sea. It led to theexploration of the Southwest and California before the Anglo-Saxonsettlers had penetrated half a hundred miles from the Atlantic coast.The cities are forgotten to-day. The tribe which gave it a name provedto be utter barbarians, eaters of raw meat, clad only in skins, withoutgold, knowing nothing of the arts; Teton nomads, wandering throughKansas. Yet each decade since witnesses a revival of a wonderful storyof the buried treasures of the Grand Quivira.

  The myth originated in New Mexico in 1540. Antonio de Mendoza was theviceroy of New Spain. Having practically conquered the New World, theadventurers who formed his court, having no fighting to do with commonenemies, began to hack each other. Opportunely for the viceroy, FraMarcos discovered New Mexico and Arizona. Gathering the doughtyswordsmen together, Mendoza turned them over to the brilliant soldierand explorer, Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, with strict orders to getthem as far from the viceroy as he could, and then lose them.

  Coronado and his band were the first to see the Grand Canon of theColorado. In the latter weeks of 1540 they were in the town of Tiguex.As they were less welcome than the modern tourists, who are now preyedupon where these preyed, the natives sent them on to the pueblo of thePecos. Mendoza had sent Coronado into New Mexico on the strength ofthe trimmings of the myth of the "Seven Cities of Cibola." The fabledcities of gold proved to be peaceful settlements. Coronado attemptedto lose his cut-throats by having them settle in the country. A plainsIndian, captive among the Pecos, changed his plans, and led him toundertake his wonderful march. The Pecos wished to get rid of theguests, so they concocted a marvelous story of buried treasures, andmade the poor captive father it. To the gold-chasers the captive wasknown as "The Turk," his head being shaven and adorned only with ascalp-lock, a custom noticeable because of its variance from that ofthe long-haired Pueblos.

  "The Turk" told of a tribe of plainsmen who had a great store of theyellow substance. They were called the Quivira. He would lead them tothe ancient Rockefellers. Coronado put him at the head of his band,and followed him eastward over the plains. For months they ploddedafter him, the Indian trying to lose Coronado, and that valiant warriorendeavoring to obey orders to "shake" his band. About the middle ofwhat is now the Indian Territory, Coronado began to suspect that "TheTurk" was selling him a gold brick instead of a bonanza. Landmarksbegan to look strangely alike. "The Turk," as he afterward confessed,was leading them in a circle. Coronado sent the most of his band backto the Mexican border, retaining about thirty followers. With the helpof heated bayonets and sundry proddings, he then impressed upon "TheTurk" that it was about time for him to find the Quiviras, or prepareto go to the happy hunting-grounds of his ancestors. After manyhardships, "The Turk" located the tribe they were seeking near thepresent site of Kansas City. All that Coronado found in the way ofmetal was a bit of copper worn by a war-chief. Not only was the bubbleburst, but the bursting was so feeble that Coronado was disgusted. Hebeheaded the guide with his own hands as a small measure of vengeance.With his followers he retraced his weary road to Tiguex. The lessonlasted for half a century, when the myth, brighter, more alluring thanever, arose and led others on to thirsty deaths in the bad lands anddeserts of the Southwest.

  It was to the modern version that Lane had succumbed. From theSweetwater he roved to the south of Albuquerque, where the narrowvalley of the Rio Grande is rimmed on the east by an arid plateautwenty miles wide; and this is, in turn, walled in by a longcordillera. Through the passes, over the summit, Lane climbed,descending through the pineries, park-like in their grandeur andimmensity, to the bare, brown plains which stretch eastward to therising sun. In the midst of the desert lies a chain of salines,accursed lakes of Tigua folk-lore. Beyond them the plain melts andrebuilds itself in the shimmering sun.

  To the south and southeast spectral peaks tower to the clouds.Northward the blue shadows of the Sante Fe fall upon the pine-cladfoot-hills.

  Along the lower slopes of the Manzano are the ruins of the ancientpueblos. Abo and Cuarac are mounds of fallen buildings anddesert-blown sand. Solemn in their grandeur, they dominate the lonelylandscape in a land of adobe shacks.

  Thirty miles from Cuarac, to the southeast, lies Tabiri, the "GrandQuivira." Huddled on the projecting slopes of the rounded ridges,access to it is a weary, dreary march. The nearest water is fortymiles away. Toiling through sand ankle-deep, the traveler plods acrossthe edge of the plains, through troughlike valleys, and up the woodedslope of the Mesa de los Jumanos. A mile to the south a whale-backridge springs from the valley, nosing northward.

  No sound breaks the stillness of the day. From the higher ridges theeye falls upon the pallid ghost of the city. Blotches of juniperrelieve the monotony of the brown, lifeless grass. Grays fade intoleaden hues, to be absorbed in the ashy, indeterminate colors of thesun-soaked plains. No fitter setting for a superstition could befound. Once a town of fifteen hundred inhabitants, the topography ofridge gave it an unusual shape. Ruins of three four-story terracehouses face one another across narrow alleys. Six circular cisternsyawn amid mounds of fallen walls. At the center of the southerlyblocks towers a gray quadrangular wall, the last of a large building.At the western terminus of the village, where the slope falls away tothe valley, is a gigantic ruin. Its walls are thirty feet high and sixfeet thick. The roof has fallen, and the topmost layers of thebluish-gray limestone are ragged and time-worn.

  The building had a frontage of two hundred and two feet, and itsgreatest depth was one hundred thirty-one feet. Flat-faced prisms,firmly laid in adobe mortar, are placed at irregular intervals in thewalls.

  The northern part of the ruin is one great cross-shaped room,thirty-eight feet wide and one hundred and thirty-one feet long. A gatefifteen feet wide and eleven feet high opens to the eastward. A mightytimber forms an arch supporting fifteen feet of solid masonry.

  South of this is a great chamber cut up into smaller rooms, with longhalls, with walls twenty feet in height. In one of the rooms is afireplace, and over the doorways are carved wood lintels. An entrancefrom the south is given through a spacious antechamber. The rafters,hauled fifteen miles, must have weighed a ton.

  Here lies the Colchis of the modern Argonaut. At first the Mexicanpried through the debris-choked rooms, or feebly tunneled under thewalls. With the coming of the white races and the drill, holes havebeen sunk into the original bed-rock. To the simple stories of thenatives, fable-bearers have added maps, dying confessions, anddiscovered ciphers.

  This ruin, which has caused so many heart-breaks and disappointments,are but the fra
gments of an old mission founded by Francisco de Atevedoin 1628. Tabiri was to be the central mission of Abo and Cuarac. Theabsence of water leads the modern explorer to believe that when thetown was deserted the spring was killed. The gentle fathers who builtthe church supervised the construction of a water-works. On a higherride are three crudely made reservoirs, with ditches leading to thevillage. The Piros had no animals save a few sheep, and the watersupply was needed only for domestic uses, as the precipitationfurnished moisture for small crops of beans and corn.

  All these towns were wiped out by the Apaches, the red plague of thedesert. First they attacked the outlying forts of the Salines, oncesupposed to be well-watered, teeming with game, and fruitful.Tradition again takes the place of unrecorded history, and tells thatthe sweet waters were turned to salt, in punishment of the wife of oneof the dwellers in the city, who proved faithless. In 1675 the lastvestige of aboriginal life was wiped out. For a century the Apachesheld undisputed control of the country; then the Mexican pioneer creptin. His children are now scattered over the border. The Americanranchman and gold-seeker followed, twisting the stories of a Christianconquest into strange tales of the seekers of buried treasures.

  Through this land Dick had wandered, finding his search but a rainbowquest. But he kept on by dull inertia, wandering westward to Tularosa,then down to Fort Grant, and toward the Lava Beds of southwesternArizona. In all that arid land there was nothing so withered as hissoul.

  Jack, well mounted, with a pack-mule carrying supplies, had picked upDick's trail, after it left Tularosa, from a scout out of Fort Grant.

  Slim Hoover headed for Fort Grant in his search for Jack. Although theranchman had only a brief start of him, Slim lost the track at theriver ford. Knowing Dick had gone into the desert, Jack headedeastward, while Slim, supposing that Jack was breaking for the borderto escape into a foreign country turned southward.

  From the scout who had met Jack and Dick, the Sheriff learned that thetwo men were headed for the Lava Beds, which were occupied by hostileApaches.

  Detachments of the 3d Cavalry were stationed at the fort, with ColonelHardie in command of the famous F troop, a band of Indian fightersnever equaled. In turn, they chased Cochise, Victoria, and Geronimowith their Apache warriors up and down and across the Rio Grande. Hardpressed, each chieftain, in turn, would flee with his band first to theLava Beds, and then across the border into Mexico, where the UnitedStates soldiers could not follow. Hardie fooled Victoria, however.Texas rangers had met the Apache chief in an engagement on the banks ofthe Rio Grande. Only eight Americans returned from the encounter.Hardie took up his pursuit, and followed Victoria across the river.The Indians had relaxed their vigilance, not expecting pursuit anddespising the Mexican Rurales. Troop F caught them off guard in themountains. The fight was one to extermination. Victoria and hisentire band were slain.

  This was the troop which was awaiting orders to go after the Apaches.

  Colonel Hardie told Slim that the Indians were bound to head for theLava Beds. If the men for whom he was looking were in the desert, thetroops would find them more quickly than Slim and his posse.

  Slim waited at Fort Grant for orders, writing back to Sage-brush,telling him of his plans.

  Fort Grant followed the usual plan of all frontier posts. A row ofofficers' houses faced the parade-grounds. Directly opposite were thecavalry barracks fort. On one side of the quadrangle were the stables,and the fourth line consisted of the quartermaster's buildings and thepost-trader's store. Small ranchmen had gathered near the fort forprotection, and because of the desire of the white man for company. Indays of peace garrison life was monotonous. But the Apaches neededconstant watching.

  As a soldier, the Apache was cruel and cowardly. He always foughtdismounted, never making an attack unless at his own advantage. Asinfantryman he was unequalled. Veteran army officers adopted theApache tactics, and installed in the army the plan of mounted infantry;soldiers who move on horseback but fight on foot detailing one man ofevery four to guard the horses. Methods similar to those used by theApaches were put into use by the Boers in the South African War.

  Indeed, the scouting of these Dutch farmers possessed many of thecharacteristics of the Apaches. So, too, the Japanese soldiers hidfrom the Russians with the aid of artificial foliage in the same waythat an Indian would creep up on his victim by tying a bush to theupper part of his body and crawling toward him on his knees and elbows.

  Mounted on wiry ponies inured to hardships, to picking up a living onthe scanty herbage of the plains, riding without saddles, and carryingno equipment, the Indians had little trouble in avoiding the soldiers.Leaving the reservation, the Apaches would commit some outrage, andthen, swinging on the arc of a great circle, would be back to camp andsettled long before the soldiers could overtake them. Hampered byorders from the War Department, which, in turn, was molested by thesentimental friends of the Indians, soldiers never succeeded in tamingthe Apache Crook cut off communications and thrashed them so thoroughlyin these same Lava Beds that they never recovered.

  In Slim's absence, Buck McKee and his gang had taken possession ofPinal County. Rustlers and bad men were coming in from Texas and theStrip. Slim's election for another term was by no means certain. Hedid not know this, but if he had, it would not have made any differenceto him. He was after Jack, and, at any cost, would bring him back toface trial. The rogues of Pinal County seized upon the flight of Jackas a good excuse to down Slim. The Sheriff was more eager to find Jackand learn from him that Buck's charge was false than to take himprisoner. He knew the accusation would not stand full investigation.

  Slowly the hours passed until the order for "boots and saddles" wassounded, and the troops trotted out of the fort gate. Scouts soonpicked up their trail, but that was different from finding the Indians.Oft-times the troopers would ride into a hastily abandoned camp withthe ashes still warm, but never a sight of a warrior could be had.Over broad mesas, down narrow mountain trails, and up canons so deepthat the sun never fully penetrated them, the soldiers followed therenegades.

  For a day the trail was lost. Then it was picked up by the print of apony's hoof beside a water-hole. But always the line of flight ledtoward an Apache spring in the Lava Beds.

  Slim and his posse took their commands from the officers of thepursuers. The cow-punchers gave them much assistance as scouts,knowing the country, through which the Indians fled. Keeping in touchwith the main command, they rode ahead to protect it from any surprise.The chief Indian scout got so far ahead at one time in the chase thathe was not seen for two days. Once, by lying flat on his belly,shading his eyes with his hands, and gazing intently at a mountainsideso far ahead that the soldiers could scarcely discern it, he declaredhe had seen the fugitives climb the trail. The feat seemed impossible,until the second morning after, when the scout pointed out to thecolonel the pony-tracks up the mountainside. The Apache scouts kepttrack of the soldiers' movements, communicating with the main body withblanket-signals and smoke columns.

  The sign-language of the Indians of the South is an interesting fieldof study. On the occasion of a raid like the one described, thewarriors who were to participate would gather at one point andconstruct a mound, with as many stones in it as there were warriors.Then they would scatter into small bands. When any band returned to themound, after losing a fight and the others were not there, the leaderwould take from the mound as many stones as he had lost warriors.Thus, the other bands, on returning, could tell just how many men hadfallen.

  In the arid regions of the West, water-signs are quite frequent. Theyusually consist of a grouping of stones, with a longer triangular stonein the center, its apex pointing in the direction where the water is tobe found. In some cases the water is so far from the trail that fouror five of these signs must be followed up before the water is found.

  Only the Indian and the mule can smell water. This accomplishmentenabled the fleeing Apaches to take every advantage of the pursuingtroope
rs, who must travel from spring to spring along known trails.

  In the long, weary chase men and horses began to fail rapidly. Shortrations quickly became slow starvation fare. Hardie fed his men andhorses on mesquit bean, a plant heretofore considered poisonous. Forwater he was forced to depend upon the cactus, draining the fluidsecreted at the heart of the plant.

  With faces blistered by the sun and caked with alkali, blue shirtsfaded to a purple tinge, and trousers and accouterments covered with agray, powdery dust, the soldiers rode on silently and determinedly.Hour after hour the troop flung itself across the plains and into theheart of the Lava Beds, each day cutting down the Apache lead.