Skeleton Lode

by Ralph Compton

  “Listen,” said Sandoval, once they were deep into the passage. “It’s that damn river again. God, I hope this ain’t another of them tunnels with a long stretch of the floor gone.”

  “May be worse than that,” Bowdre said. “I reckon we’d better take it slow and be almighty careful.”

  The drop-off, when they reached it, all but took their breath away, and the updraft sucked out their pine torch, leaving them momentarily in the dark. Sandoval turned his back on the abyss arid lit another match. Then Bowdre spoke.

  “Put it out and stand quiet. Somebody’s down there.”

  In the darkness far below them were two bobbing orbs of light. Both the lights were moving away from them and growing dim with distance, soon lost to view.

  “Wells and Holt,” said Sandoval, “and they got lanterns.”

  “Now,” Bowdre said, “shield that match with your hat, light that torch, and let’s see what’s between us and the river.”

  Sandoval lit the pine torch and when he neared the drop-off, the updraft again sucked out the light.

  “Back off,” said Bowdre. “Wells and Holt have the right idea. We can’t tackle this damn cliff with lighted pine splinters. We need lanterns and plenty of rope. Let’s go get some and come back.”

  “My God,” Sandoval said, “it must be a good five-hundred-foot drop to that river. You reckon Wells and Holt went down that wall?”

  “I figure they done it once,” said Bowdre. “Then they follered the river and found some better way. If they done it, so can we. But we’ll wait for them to pull out before we make our try.”

  “Smart thinkin’,” Sandoval said. “We’d make mighty good targets, workin’ our way down that wall with lighted lanterns.”

  Yavapai and Sanchez stumbled on, and to their joy, they caught up to the pair of saddled horses Bowdre had stampeded with the mules. Tired from their run, the animals had stopped to graze.

  “These horse belong to Señor Domingo Vasquez,” said Yavapai. “We take them, and he kill us dead.”

  “Madre de Dios,” Sanchez said, “you already be dead in the cabeza. We ride these horse back to town, and what do you t’ink happen to us? The Señor Vasquez, he say ‘Where my other horse? Where Juarez and these other hombres I send with you?’ We say other horse be gone. We say Juarez and all his companeros be dead. What you t’ink the Señor Vasquez do? He tell the sheriff, ‘These no-good Yavapai and Sanchez kill my men and steal my horse.’ Do we become the thieving bastardos the Señor Vasquez call us, take these horse and ride like hell for Tucson? Or do we tell the señor the truth, which he do not believe, and die like dogs for having kill Juarez and his companeros and steal their horse?”

  “I t’ink,” said Yavapai, “I be ready to become muy bueno amigos with the malo gringo sheriff in Tucson.”

  They looked to the sky above the distant ridge where already buzzards were circling. Without another word they mounted, and kicking their horses into a fast gallop, headed south.

  Kelly and Kelsey held the lanterns while Arlo and Dallas began the painstaking investigation of the walls along the other side of the river. For the rest of the day they searched, without finding any sign. Slowly they worked their way back down the river toward the exit from the underground cavern. It was Arlo who eventually broke the silence.

  “All of you stay where you are while I go out and look around. After the gunplay this morning, I don’t look for them to try again, but we can’t risk it.”

  “I thought the world of Uncle Henry,” Kelsey said, “but I’m so tired of this. Why don’t we just give it up?”

  “We’ve been over this before,” said Dallas. “We can’t give it up. Hoss wouldn’t like that. We’re overlooking something that’s so obvious we can’t see it. I reckon Arlo and me will stay with it. You and Kelly can go back to the cabin if you like.”

  “I’m going to be right here until the end,” Kelly said. “I say either we all go on together or we all quit together. Me, I’m for going on.”

  “Then so will I,” said Kelsey, “and I won’t complain anymore.”

  “Come on,” Arlo said. “I don’t see anybody outside.”

  “Now,” said Dallas, “the big question is, have they taken our horses and mules, leavin’ us on foot?”

  The animals were still there. But from his post on the west rim of the Superstitions, Zondo Carp watched the four ride out.

  “We’re ready, then,” said Bowdre, when Carp took him the news. “Just as soon as Joe gets here with the lanterns and the rope.”

  “Hope he ain’t run into trouble,” Carp said. “He’s been gone a while.”

  “Ain’t likely,” said Bowdre. “That’s why I sent him to Globe instead of Tortilla Flat. It’s a mite farther, but less of a risk.”

  “It’s one hell of a drop to that river,” Sandoval said. “Might take us all night just to get down.”

  “That’s what I expect,” said Bowdre. “I just want to get down that bluff and follow the river to a place where we can get out into the open without goin’ back through that tunnel. Once we’ve done that, we can follow Wells and Holt, or we can search on our own durin’ the night.”

  “When we find a way in and out without goin’ down that drop-off,” Sandoval said, “let’s take Davis down along that river. Might be close enough to the gold to bust through that fog in his head.”

  “Exactly what I aim to do,” said Bowdre.

  “Joe’s comin’,” Carp called.

  “Good,” said Bowdre. “We’ll eat, and then we’ll head for the river. From now on, we got us a double shot at that gold. When Wells and Holt ain’t there, we can do our own searching. But if they should find it first, we can always take it off their hands.”

  Supper was eaten in glum silence.

  “Kelly, let’s walk over to Saguaro Lake,” Dallas finally said. “This is gettin’ on my nerves, us all sittin’ here lookin’ at one another like somebody just died.”

  When Dallas and Kelly had gone, Kelsey turned to Arlo.

  “He’s right,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about us quitting, just because we’d had a bad day.”

  “I understand your feelings,” said Arlo. “We’ve been together a while, and we’re kind of at loose ends. We can’t make any plans, because we’re committed to this search for the gold.”

  “It’s not just that. It’s … well … Dallas and Kelly. Kelly’s my sister, and I think the world of Dallas, but damn it, they’re always around. Am I being terribly selfish when I wish we had some time away from them, some time to ourselves?”

  “No,” Arlo said, and he sat down on the bunk beside her. “After you’d been shot and Kelly stripped you, I felt like tellin’ Dallas to get the hell out, to go sit on a rock and look at the prairie. Somehow I felt cheated, and I was jealous as hell. We’ve been pards for ten years. Am I normal, or just a selfish damn fool cowboy that don’t know straight from crooked?”

  “You’re a normal damn fool cowboy,” she whispered in his ear, “and I’m flattered that you think so highly of me. Sorry I kept kicking off all the blankets, but I was so hot, I felt like I was on fire,”

  “That was the whiskey,” said Arlo. “I wonder about Kelly, how she feels about Dallas. While she was doctorin’ you, it didn’t seem to bother her that Dallas was there, takin’ you in.”

  “That’s Kelly,” she laughed. “In some ways, she’s stronger than I am, and she never feels threatened. Once when we were about fifteen, while we were out riding, we stripped for a swim in a creek. When we came out, there was that skunk Gary Davis, grinning at us. I was just mortified, and grabbed my clothes, but not Kelly. She stood face-to-face with Davis and cussed him until his face went red and he turned away. So if you’re looking for the strongest of us, you’ve made a bad choice.”

  “You’re strong when you need to be,” Arlo assured her. “After them foolish words with Dallas when we was ridin’ in, I just wanted you to know I didn’t like sharin’ you with him, even w
hen we had no privacy and no choice.”

  “Let’s put that behind us,” Kelsey said, “and enjoy this time alone.”

  Arlo moved closer and for a while they forgot everything, including the elusive mine Hoss Logan had left to them.

  Chapter 19

  Dallas and Kelly walked all the way to Saguaro Lake in total silence. For a while they sat beneath the willows, not touching. The stars and a pale quarter moon were reflected in the dark waters, as though there were heavens above them and heavens below. Dallas finally spoke.

  “Kelly, you ain’t… souring on me, are you?”

  “Should I be?” The tone of her voice told him nothing.

  “When I was bullyraggin’ Arlo about him and me always sharin’, it… that… wasn’t meant to include you and Kelsey,” he stammered.

  “My stars,” Kelly laughed, “Dallas Holt, this gunthrowin’ Arizona cowboy, is finally embarrassed. You mean Kelsey got your goat with that bit about you always being close by when she kicked off the blankets?”

  Dallas laughed uneasily. “Yeah, I reckon she did. She… well… made it seem like I… I was… damn it, like I was more interested in her than I was… am… in you.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  He grabbed her in a bear hug, while she giggled and fought him just for the hell of it. In the struggle, she almost bloodied his nose and blacked his left eye with her elbow before he finally subdued her. There followed several prolonged kisses, and when they came up for air, their feet were in the water.

  “Damn,” he said, “how are we gonna explain why we went wadin’ with our boots on?”

  Kelly laughed. “We’ll lie. I fell in the lake and you rescued me.”

  “Not a very convincin’ lie,” Dallas said, “with just our boots wet. We got to do better than that.”

  He seized her, and despite her shrieks, pitched her into the lake.

  “Damn you,” she howled, “this water’s cold! I’m freezing!”

  “Fear not, fair lady,” he bawled, “I’ll save you.” Shucking only his hat, he leaped in after her.

  “I reckon I can save myself,” she said. “It’s only knee deep.”

  Getting to his feet, he gallantly extended his hand. She ignored it, knuckling the water out of her eyes. She then stumbled out, he followed, and they stood there dripping wet, shivering in the night wind. He got in front of her and put his hands on her sodden shoulders.

  “I reckon now you are put out with me,” he said.

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” she asked softly. Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him with gusto.

  Bowdre and Sandoval reached the drop-off with their lanterns, and the first thing they discovered with the improved light was the rope Arlo and Dallas had left looped over a boulder.

  “Backs up what we figured,” Bowdre said. “Let’s haul that rope up and see how far down it goes.”

  The length of rope fell far short of their expectations.

  “Not even a hundred feet,” said Sandoval. “That means when they got to the end of this one, they found somethin’ else to tie to. This rope ain’t even close to bein’ long enough to reach bottom.”

  “This is some hell of a drop,” Bowdre said. “I reckon the length of this rope is proof they found somethin’ down there to rest on, but I ain’t one to lean on somebody else’s luck. We’ll lower one of these lanterns over the edge and maybe get some idea as to what’s down there.”

  Using the hundred-foot length of rope, they lowered a lighted lantern. By its dim glow they could barely see the first ledge Arlo and Dallas had discovered. Beyond that, the poor light from the lantern couldn’t compete with the intense darkness.

  Bowdre looped his belt through the bail of the lantern, and then tied the loose end of the rope securely under his arms. He then eased himself over the edge, using knots in the rope to hand-walk his way down. He was within a few feet of the ledge when there was no longer a reassuring pull on the rope. There was only a terrifying slackness. The rope had broken, and he was falling!

  Cass Bowdre hit the narrow ledge with his left foot and, off balance, dug his fingers into the rough stone of the wall down which he had rapidly descended. Dripping cold sweat, he got his other foot on the ledge and managed to regain his balance. He stood there shaking, weak in the knees.

  “Bowdre,” Sandoval shouted, “you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Bowdre panted. “I was close enough that I was able to hang on when the rope broke.”

  “Broke, hell,” said Sandoval. “It was cut halfway through, near where it was looped around this rock. That damned Wells and Holt cut it just enough so’s it’d break when we put some weight on it.”

  “We’re a prime pair of fools for not thinkin’ of that,” Bowdre replied. “I’ll use this rope to let the lantern on down. tie one of our ropes around that boulder, bring the other lantern and the rest of the rope, and come on down. I don’t see nothin’ here to tie to, so use as long a piece of rope as you got. We’ll have to depend on it to reach another restin’ place somewhere below, if there is one.”

  Sandoval came down the wall and reached the ledge without difficulty. The two of them stood peering into darkness so dense, the lantern’s dim glow was barely able to penetrate it. For a long moment, neither man spoke.

  “It’s too far down,” Sandoval said. “Pull it back up a ways, where maybe we can see somethin’.”

  “Hell,” said Bowdre, “there’s nothin’ to see. That’s why I let it down so far. From here, I ain’t seen a damn thing we can rest a foot on that was near enough to show up in the lantern’s light.”

  “It’s goin’ to be some risky,” Sandoval said. “The next piece of rock offerin’ us any kind of foothold may be a hundred feet down. Worse, there may not be another restin’ place from here to the bottom.”

  “We ain’t come more’n twenty-five feet,” said Bowdre, “so we could still be close to four hundred feet from the bottom. But we got four hundred feet of rope yet, besides the piece you tied to the rock above us. I reckon we’d better tie the rest of what we got to that first piece, in case we don’t find anything else strong enough to tie to. That’ll give us more’n five hundred feet.”

  “By God, I don’t like the looks of this,” said Sandoval. “Suppose we hit the end of all that, and we still ain’t at the bottom?”

  “Then we’re in one hell of a mess,” Bowdre replied. “But I just don’t believe it’s that far to the bottom of this drop-off. Maybe we’ll find us a ledge where we can rest. But we could just as well find nothin’—meanin’ we got no choice but to hang on all the way to the bottom.”

  “If we have to,” said Sandoval, “once we’re down a ways, we can just drop into the river. It’ll play hell with the lanterns, though.”

  “It might play hell with your carcass, too,” Bowdre said. “Noisy as that stream is, it may not be more’n knee deep in places, and there may be some almighty big rocks near the banks.”

  “Talkin’ won’t get us down this bluff,” said Sandoval, “and I reckon it’s my turn to risk my neck. Wait till I get to a stoppin’ place before you start down. I don’t trust this rope with both of us on it.”

  Sandoval made his way down the rope as swiftly as he could, but the strain on his arms, back, and shoulders was almost unbearable. He soon reached the recessed ledge that had saved Arlo Wells, but try as he might, he was unable to gain the momentum to swing himself to it. Already his arms and hands were numb. There was nothing for him to do except continue down the rope, desperately trying to reach the bottom of the drop-off before his hands lost their grip. There was a roaring in his head and cold sweat running into his eyes.

  “Sandoval,” Bowdre shouted, “are you makin’ it all right?”

  But Sandoval was fighting for his life. He had a death grip on the rope, despite having no feeling in his arms and hands. Finally his tortured body could no longer endure the terrible strain. Icy fear swept over him and his heart stopped as he felt his sweaty hands slip
ping, letting go. Then he was falling. He hit on his feet, bending his knees to absorb the impact. He fell face-down, skinning his knees and elbows on sharp rocks. The lantern, fastened to his belt and hanging to his rear, miraculously was unbroken. Slowly he got to his hands and knees. His right hand was caught in something slimy, and in the dim light of the lantern he found it was human hair. Sandoval let out a startled, involuntary squawk as he found himself looking into the sightless eyes of a human skull from which the scalp hadn’t yet rotted away.

  “For God’s sake,” Bowdre shouted, “what’s goin’ on down there?”

  “It’s one hell of a drop,” yelled Sandoval. “I lost my grip and fell the last dozen feet or more. Skint hell out of my arms and legs on the rocks, and then fell face-down on some stinkin’ dead hombre.”