CHAPTER VI.
THE LEGEND OF A FORGOTTEN RACE.
Leaping and scrambling over the top of the hollow altar to the best oftheir abilities, the four explorers found their cow-puncher frienddancing wildly about on the edge of the mesa, in imminent peril oftumbling over altogether. He was wildly excited, and, as they emerged,he pointed down over the cliff edge.
"Whatever is the matter?" exclaimed Jack, regarding the antics of theusually staid cow-puncher with amazement.
"The stock! Look at the stock!" yelled Pete.
Peering over the edge at the bunch-grass belt in which their ponieswere tethered, the adventurers saw a spectacle which might well havebeen calculated to excite the cow-puncher. One Spot, Two Spot andThree Spot were tearing round and round at the end of their tethers, inthe wildest alarm, evidently, while the cayuses were stamping andsnorting, with distended nostrils and wild, frightened eyes.
"What's the matter with them?" gasped Walt, astonished at the sight, aswell he might be. The desert was as empty as ever, and there was nosign of anything in the rocky hills to the south that might haveexcited their alarms.
"Thet's jes' it," said Pete. "What is the matter with 'em? They ain'tactin' up thet er way fer nuthin', you kin bet."
"Something must have scared them," said Jack. "Maybe it was thoserocks you were throwing down."
"No, it warn't that, son. Ole One Spot he looked up here a minute ago,and giv' his eye a knowin' wink, as much as ter say: 'Go ahead; I knowyou won't hurt us.' No, siree; it's suthin' they've smelled out, erseen, that's given 'em the scare of their young lives."
"Maybe it was something on the other side of the mesa. Let's go andlook," cried Jack.
Followed by the others, he ran across the flat summit, but an earnestinspection of the surroundings on that side failed to reveal anyexplanation for the animals' sudden terror. For all the strangeobjects that lay about them, they might have been in the middle of adesolate ocean.
"No wonder they call this the Haunted Mesa," snorted Pete. "I tellyou, perfusser, ther sooner you git them thar measurements a-measured,and we're hiking out of this neck of the woods, the better I'll bepleased. 'Tain't natural, all these queer goings on."
"Maybe a coyote or something scared them," suggested Ralph.
"And them used ter seeing 'em every day," scoffed Pete. "Guess again,son. It takes something with hoofs, horns and red fire about it toscare a burro, and you kin bet your Sunday sombrero on that."
"Well, I propose that we adjourn the meeting till after dinner,"laughed Jack; "all in favor, will signify by saying 'aye.'"
The chorus that answered him left no doubt of "the sense of themeeting," and a rapid descent of the mysterious mesa was begun. A goodmeal was not long in being prepared, thanks to Coyote Pete's skill as acamp cook. Seated over their dinner, the main topic of conversationwas naturally the unaccountable occurrence of the morning. Butalthough a score of explanations were advanced, nobody could hit on onethat seemed to fit the case.
"This water is singularly pure and sparkling,"' said the professorfinally, by way of changing the subject, and holding up his full tincup.
"Yep; I remember hearing old cowmen say that there's no water in NewMexico any better than this from the Haunted Mesa," said Pete,stretching himself out, and lighting his inevitable after-meal-timepipe. "Though that ain't sayin' a heap," he admitted.
"Wonder how those old what-you-may-call-ums ever managed to dig such awell?" questioned Ralph.
"Comes to my mind now," said Pete, "that it ain't exactly a well. Anold Injun that used ter hang around with the Flying Z outfit tole usoncet that thar was a subterranean river flowed under here, and thatonce upon a time afore all the country dried up, considerable morewater came to the surface here than there does now."
"A subterranean river?" asked the professor, at once interested.
"Yes, sir," rejoined Pete, "and not the only one in the West, either.There's one in Californy that flows underground fer purty near fiftymiles, as I've heard tell."
"This is most remarkable," said the professor. "I, too, have heard ofsubterranean rivers in this part of the world, but I have never had theopportunity to explore one. Did this Indian you speak of ever tell youwhere this river emerges?"
"He said it come out some place across the frontier in Chihuahua; Idon't jest rightly recollect where," said Pete carelessly, as if thesubject did not interest him much, as indeed it did not.
"I don't see what use a subterranean river is to anybody, anyhow," hewent on. "If it was on top, now, it might be some use."
"But this is most interesting," protested the professor, while the boyslay about with their chins propped in their hands in intent attitudes."Then, too, if this river exists, perhaps it is even navigable."
"Why, professor!" exclaimed Jack. "Is it not possible that it was tothis river that those drawings of boats that interested and puzzled youso much had reference?"
"Quite possible, my boy," agreed the man of science.
"I wish we could find some way of getting down into it," said Ralphwistfully, poking at the ground, as if he thought he might force anentrance that way.
"Thar you go," laughed Pete. "Giv' you boys a cayuse, an' you'll ridehim to death. I jes' mentioned that a lying, whisky-drinking old Injunhad sprung a pipe-dream about a lost river, and thar you go navagatin'it in a Coney Island steamboat."
The boys could not help bursting into a laugh at the cow-puncher'swhimsical way of talking. The professor joined in, too, for nonerealized better than he did that for a moment he, too, had been quitecarried away by the idea.
"I expect that it is as you say, Pete," he agreed. "These Indians aremost unreliable people. If anybody was to believe all the weirdlegends an Indian tells him, he would spend the best part of his lifeon wild-goose chases. Why, the Indians of the Mojave desert inCalifornia can even tell a circumstantial story about a buried city ofMojave. According to their contention, a great flood, occurring longago, wiped it out and buried it in the sands of the desert."
"Has any one ever tried to find it?" asked Jack.
"Many expeditions have been fitted out for the purpose, my boy," wasthe rejoinder, "but so far no trace has ever been found of it, and itis, no doubt, like the lost river of which Pete was telling us, a meremyth."
"I didn't say it was a miff," protested Pete. "I jes' said I didn'tbelieve it."
The remainder of that afternoon was spent in making more measurementsand sketches of the interesting mesa, and the boys, on their ownaccount, conducted a search for a possible entrance to the lost river.But, as may be supposed, they found none.
"I guess as romance-seekers we are not a success," said Jack, as atsun-down they prepared to quit. "Just think, what a proud bunch we'dhave been if we could say we--The Border Boys--discovered the lostriver of the mesa dwellers."
"We might be a sorry bunch, too," amended the practical Walt. "I tellyou, Jack, I don't want anything to do with lost rivers, especiallywhen they are underground."
"Walt, the spirit of adventure is lacking in you," laughed Jack."You'd never make a Don Quixote----"
"A donkey who?" asked Walt innocently.
"Oh, you're the limit," chuckled Ralph, going off into a roar oflaughter at the ranch boy's expense.
That evening the animals' pasture was changed to the opposite side ofthe mesa, where they could find fresh grass. The camp, however, wasleft as it was. After supper watches were assigned, as usual, thelatter part of the night guardianship falling to Coyote Pete and Jackonce more. When, soon after midnight, Walt and Ralph Stetson arousedthem, there was nothing much to report except that One Spot had engagedin a spirited kicking match with his brethren. Outside of that, allhad been, to quote Walt:
"Quiet along the Mesomac."
"We'll patrol round the whole mesa," said Coyote Pete, as he and Jackshouldered their rifles, "meeting by the stock on the other side."
After a few words more, the two sentries strode off into the
darknessin different directions, meeting, as arranged, by the stock. Neitherhad anything to report, and in this way they kept up the night watchfor an hour or more. They had met for the sixth time by the tentscontaining their sleeping comrades, when from the opposite side of themesa came a shrill neigh of terror, followed by sounds of wildgalloping and snorting.
"Something's up!" shouted Pete, as, with his rifle in readiness andfollowed closely by Jack, he tore around the mesa to ascertain thecause of the trouble.
As the two sentries emerged into view of the spot in which the stockhad been tethered, they came upon a spectacle which, for a moment,caused them to recoil as abruptly as if a deep canyon had suddenlyopened up before them.
Border Boys Across the Frontier Page 6