VI: BULL TURNS NURSE
Passing over into the next valley, they came on the body of oldFrancisco, hacked almost to bits. So far Lee had kept a strong grip onherself. But now she burst out crying.
"The poor fellow! He was faithful as a dog. We saw them cut him down,and that caused dad to lose his head. Otherwise he would never havetried to pursue them alone."
"He was old--an' died a man's death," Bull offered her rough comfort."You couldn't wish him a better ending."
It was man's reasoning, therefore contrary to her woman's feelings, yetit helped to control her grief. She acquiesced at once when Bullsuggested that she ride ahead and prepare a room.
By her departure Sliver was afforded an opportunity to get something offhis mind. After a glance at Carleton, who had relapsed again intounconsciousness, he nodded at the horses. "Don't you allow I'd betterleave 'em here? After we get through with him we kin come back an'--" Hestopped, shuffled uneasily, under Bull's stare.
"You're dead right! Don't trouble to say it. I'd steal the horses offena hearse."
Bull's glance dropped again to the unconscious man. Then, very slowly,he voiced his opinion, formed on frontier code: "Wait till he's wellenough to fight for his own. Till then--we leave him alone."
Stepping at a lively gait, they passed in half an hour under the _patio_gateway. Within, arched _portales_ ran around three sides, supportingthe gallery of an upper story. From the red-tiled roof above a wonderfulcreeper poured a cataract of green lace, so dense, prolific, that onlyvigorous pruning kept it from burying the _portales_ beneath. In thecenter rose a great _arbol de fuego_, "tree of fire," contrasting itsflaming blossoms with the rich greens of palms and bananas.
They were met at the entrance by a flock of frightened brown women,house servants, and _peonas_; for of the scores of men who had workedfor Carleton before the wars there were left only three withered_ancianos_ to bear his body up the wide stone stairway to a room thatcaught the fresh breeze from the mountains.
Here Bull redressed the wounds. His skill, however, was only of thesurface. As it would require at least four days to bring a doctor evenfrom Chihuahua, he felt that unless Jake materialized one out of the drydesert air Carleton would surely die. Nevertheless, he stoutly deniedthe possibility to Lee during the two days that he shared her watch.
Sliver, on his part, also did his best to cheer and comfort, relatingmarvelous tales of accidents and illnesses that, by contrast, madeshooting through the lungs and stomach look smaller than a toothache.
"You she'd have seen Rusty Mikel, Miss, the time his Bill-hoss turned aflip-flop onto him. Druv' the pommel clean through his chest, it did.Yet he was up an' around, lively as a bedbug by candle-light, in less 'nfive weeks."
Surely without them the girl would not only have broken down, but herfather could never have survived to see the doctor, whose arrival wasannounced by a rapid beat of hoofs the following evening. For Jake hadachieved the impossible, grabbed him, if not from midair, at least froma revolutionary-hospital train that had stopped at the burned station tobury its dead.
The doctor was American. But even as he dismounted at the gate Bullpicked him for a "colonist." Just how, he himself could not have said.His premature grizzle, unhealthy pallor, might have been due tooverwork. But a certain brooding quiet, seen only in those who have beencut off for long periods from communication with their fellows,impressed even Sliver. He remarked on it while they sat with Jake underthe _portales_ while he ate.
"Say! but he's whitish. Looks like he'd done time."
"He has," Jake nodded. "I had it from a Yankee machine-gunner inValles's army that had got himself shot through both arms an' was beingtaken back to the base hospital with about a hun'red others. When Ilanded at the burned station he was a-setting with his legs dangling outof a box-car door, watching 'em bury his _companeros_ that had died onthe way.
"'Gotter do it quick,' he says. 'They don't keep worth a darn in thisclime.'
"He'd met Carleton once in Chihuahua, an' 'twas him that sent the doctoran' tol' me about him while he was packing his grip. Seems that he'dbelonged to a gang that worked insurance frauds on American companies.They'd insure some _peon_ that was about ready to croak, paying thepremiums themselves an' c'llecting the insurance after he cashed in. Ifhe lingered 'twas said that they hurried him. That was never quiteproved, most of 'em being too far gone to testify when they wasresurrected. But the doc had furnished the death certificate, an' as theMexicans ain't so particular about technicalities as our courts, he wassentenced to be shot along with his pals. If he'd been Mexican they'dhave done it, too. But Diaz, who liked a bad gringo better than a goodgreaser, commuted the sentence to life imprisonment. He'd actuallyserved twelve years--think of it, hombres! twelve years in a Mexicanjail before the revolutionists let him out to serve on theirhospital-trains."
"Twelve years!" Sliver echoed it. "An' just for croaking a few Mex? Heorter ha' practised in New Mexico. They'd have give him a medal upthere."
After Jake had eaten, the Three sat and smoked till the doctor camedown. While eating he made his report. "If I could do any good I'd stay.But he will surely die to-night. It's going to be mighty hard on thatpoor girl. Like most of us"--his glance took in all Three--"Carletondidn't come down here for his health. It's bad form in Mexico to inquireabout a man's past. Nevertheless, it's pretty well known that he killedthe seducer of his wife and came here with the child when she was fouryears old. She's never been away since, and has no kin that she knowsof. To run a hacienda, these days, is too big a job for a girl."
His deep concern showed an underlying goodness. Genuine sadness weightedhis words when he gave his last orders from the saddle. "I've left anopiate in case he suffers. He may regain consciousness, but don't bedeceived. It will be the last flare before the dark."
It happened at midnight. An hour before, Bull had put Lee out of theroom with gentle force to take needed rest. He had then moved his chairto the door, which opened out on the _corredor_, to secure the free airhis rustler's lungs demanded. Across the compound he could see themoon's pale lantern hanging in the branches of a yucca that upraised itsmaimed and twisted shape on a distant knoll. Northward the mountainsloomed, dim and mysterious, in tender light that reduced the vividchromes and blues of lime-washed adobes in the compound to pale violetand clear gold.
_Gringo_ as he was, his people had lived under Carleton's hand fuller,freer lives than their forebears had ever known under the Mexicanoverlords, and, day or night, the _patio_ had never lacked a dozen brown_peonas_ on their knees at their prayers to the saints. Under the _arbolde fuego_ in the center of the _patio_ below three old crones haderected a small altar, and its guttering candles now threw splashes ofgold up through the crimson dusk of the tree. Adding the human notewhich, by contrast, accentuated the infinite mystery of that stillnight, their mutterings rose up to Bull; bits of gossip sandwichedbetween prayers.
"Three crows perched here at sundown, Luisa. Thou knowest what thatmeans?"
"Si; they were devils come for a soul."
"'Tis a pity that all gringos are doomed to the flame. The senor was agood master to us that had felt the iron fist of the Spaniard."
"The senorita? She that is so sweet and good. Thinkest thou, Luisa, thatshe also will be cast into hell?"
"Not if my prayers can save, Pancha. Three great candles, at twentycentavos the candle, have I burned on the altar of Guadalupe for hersoul's sake. There is yet time for her. But the poor senor--" her pausedoomed him. Nevertheless, with greater vigor they returned to theirprayers for his saving.
The dim beauty of the night with its spread of moonlit plain, loom ofdistant mountains, querulous supplication rising under cold stars,combined to produce that awful sense of infinity that shrouds the riddleof life. If Bull was incapable of philosophizing upon it, to translatethe feeling in thought, he still came under its sway. While it weighedheavily upon him, there came a gasp and feverish mutter from the bed.
In a second he was there. As
he removed the shade from the candle he sawCarleton's face lit by the last flare. Recognition and intelligence bothwere there.
"Where is--Lee? Sleeping? Don't wake her. Listen! She--must not--stayhere. Tell William Benson--he's rough and a bully--but honest and good.Tell him to get a permit--from the revolutionists--to drive my cattleand horses--across to the States. They will bring enough--to keep Leefor many--a year. Be sure--"
The halting voice suddenly failed. Even while Bull was reaching for astimulant the soul of the man passed out into the mystery beyond themoonlit plains.
For a while Bull stood looking down upon him. Then, very slowly, he madetoward the door that led to the girl's room. But as her tired face rosebefore him he stopped and shook his head. "Let her finish her sleep."Tiptoeing, instead, out to the gallery rail, he leaned down and softlycalled the old women.
Over the Border: A Novel Page 6