VII
WHITE HORSES
"A CRIPPLED Yaqui! Why the hell did you saddle yourself with him?"roared Belding, as he laid Gale upon the bed.
Belding had grown hard these late, violent weeks.
"Because I chose," whispered Gale, in reply. "Go after him--he droppedin the trail--across the river--near the first big saguaro."
Belding began to swear as he fumbled with matches and the lamp; but asthe light flared up he stopped short in the middle of a word.
"You said you weren't hurt?" he demanded, in sharp anxiety, as he bentover Gale.
"I'm only--all in.... Will you go--or send some one--for the Yaqui?"
"Sure, Dick, sure," Belding replied, in softer tones. Then he stalkedout; his heels rang on the flagstones; he opened a door and called:"Mother--girls, here's Dick back. He's done up.... Now--no, no, he'snot hurt or in bad shape. You women!... Do what you can to make himcomfortable. I've got a little job on hand."
There were quick replies that Gale's dulling ears did not distinguish.Then it seemed Mrs. Belding was beside his bed, her presence so cooland soothing and helpful, and Mercedes and Nell, wide-eyed andwhite-faced, were fluttering around him. He drank thirstily, butrefused food. He wanted rest. And with their faces drifting away in akind of haze, with the feeling of gentle hands about him, he lostconsciousness.
He slept twenty hours. Then he arose, thirsty, hungry, lame, overworn,and presently went in search of Belding and the business of the day.
"Your Yaqui was near dead, but guess we'll pull him through," saidBelding. "Dick, the other day that Indian came here by rail and footand Lord only knows how else, all the way from New Orleans! He spokeEnglish better than most Indians, and I know a little Yaqui. I gotsome of his story and guessed the rest. The Mexican government istrying to root out the Yaquis. A year ago his tribe was taken inchains to a Mexican port on the Gulf. The fathers, mothers, children,were separated and put in ships bound for Yucatan. There they weremade slaves on the great henequen plantations. They were driven,beaten, starved. Each slave had for a day's rations a hunk of sourdough, no more. Yucatan is low, marshy, damp, hot. The Yaquis werebred on the high, dry Sonoran plateau, where the air is like a knife.They dropped dead in the henequen fields, and their places were takenby more. You see, the Mexicans won't kill outright in their war ofextermination of the Yaquis. They get use out of them. It's ahorrible thing.... Well, this Yaqui you brought in escaped from hiscaptors, got aboard ship, and eventually reached New Orleans. Somehowhe traveled way out here. I gave him a bag of food, and he went offwith a Papago Indian. He was a sick man then. And he must have fallenfoul of some Greasers."
Gale told of his experience at Papago Well.
"That raider who tried to grind the Yaqui under a horse's hoofs--he wasa hyena!" concluded Gale, shuddering. "I've seen some blood spilledand some hard sights, but that inhuman devil took my nerve. Why, as Itold you, Belding, I missed a shot at him--not twenty paces!"
"Dick, in cases like that the sooner you clean up the bunch thebetter," said Belding, grimly. "As for hard sights--wait till you'veseen a Yaqui do up a Mexican. Bar none, that is the limit! It's bloodlust, a racial hate, deep as life, and terrible. The Spaniards crushedthe Aztecs four or five hundred years ago. That hate has had time togrow as deep as a cactus root. The Yaquis are mountain Aztecs.Personally, I think they are noble and intelligent, and if let alonewould be peaceable and industrious. I like the few I've known. Butthey are a doomed race. Have you any idea what ailed this Yaqui beforethe raider got in his work?"
"No, I haven't. I noticed the Indian seemed in bad shape; but Icouldn't tell what was the matter with him."
"Well, my idea is another personal one. Maybe it's off color. I thinkthat Yaqui was, or is, for that matter, dying of a broken heart. Allhe wanted was to get back to his mountains and die. There are no Yaquisleft in that part of Sonora he was bound for."
"He had a strange look in his eyes," said Gale, thoughtfully.
"Yes, I noticed that. But all Yaquis have a wild look. Dick, if I'mnot mistaken, this fellow was a chief. It was a waste of strength, aneedless risk for you to save him, pack him back here. But, damn thewhole Greaser outfit generally, I'm glad you did!"
Gale remembered then to speak of his concern for Ladd.
"Laddy didn't go out to meet you," replied Belding. "I knew you weredue in any day, and, as there's been trouble between here and Casita, Isent him that way. Since you've been out our friend Carter lost abunch of horses and a few steers. Did you get a good look at thehorses those raiders had at Papago Well?"
Dick had learned, since he had become a ranger, to see everything withkeen, sure, photographic eye; and, being put to the test so oftenrequired of him, he described the horses as a dark-colored drove,mostly bays and blacks, with one spotted sorrel.
"Some of Carter's--sure as you're born!" exclaimed Belding. "His bunchhas been split up, divided among several bands of raiders. He has agrass ranch up here in Three Mile Arroyo. It's a good long ride in U.S. territory from the border."
"Those horses I saw will go home, don't you think?" asked Dick.
"Sure. They can't be caught or stopped."
"Well, what shall I do now?"
"Stay here and rest," bluntly replied Belding. "You need it. Let thewomen fuss over you--doctor you a little. When Jim gets back fromSonoyta I'll know more about what we ought to do. By Lord! it seemsour job now isn't keeping Japs and Chinks out of the U. S. It's keepingour property from going into Mexico."
"Are there any letters for me?" asked Gale.
"Letters! Say, my boy, it'd take something pretty important to get meor any man here back Casita way. If the town is safe these days theroad isn't. It's a month now since any one went to Casita."
Gale had received several letters from his sister Elsie, the last ofwhich he had not answered. There had not been much opportunity forwriting on his infrequent returns to Forlorn River; and, besides, Elsiehad written that her father had stormed over what he considered Dick'sfalling into wild and evil ways.
"Time flies," said Dick. "George Thorne will be free before long, andhe'll be coming out. I wonder if he'll stay here or try to takeMercedes away?"
"Well, he'll stay right here in Forlorn River, if I have any say,"replied Belding. "I'd like to know how he'd ever get that Spanish girlout of the country now, with all the trails overrun by rebels andraiders. It'd be hard to disguise her. Say, Dick, maybe we can getThorne to stay here. You know, since you've discovered the possibilityof a big water supply, I've had dreams of a future for ForlornRiver.... If only this war was over! Dick, that's what itis--war--scattered war along the northern border of Mexico from gulf togulf. What if it isn't our war? We're on the fringe. No, we can'tdevelop Forlorn River until there's peace."
The discovery that Belding alluded to was one that might very well leadto the making of a wonderful and agricultural district of Altar Valley.While in college Dick Gale had studied engineering, but he had not setthe scientific world afire with his brilliance. Nor after leavingcollege had he been able to satisfy his father that he could hold ajob. Nevertheless, his smattering of engineering skill bore fruit inthe last place on earth where anything might have been expected ofit--in the desert. Gale had always wondered about the source ofForlorn River. No white man or Mexican, or, so far as known, noIndian, had climbed those mighty broken steps of rock called No NameMountains, from which Forlorn River was supposed to come. Gale haddiscovered a long, narrow, rock-bottomed and rock-walled gulch thatcould be dammed at the lower end by the dynamiting of leaning cliffsabove. An inexhaustible supply of water could be stored there.Furthermore, he had worked out an irrigation plan to bring the waterdown for mining uses, and to make a paradise out of that part of AltarValley which lay in the United States. Belding claimed there was goldin the arroyos, gold in the gulches, not in quantities to make aprospector rejoice, but enough to work for. And the soil on the higherlevels of Altar V
alley needed only water to make it grow anything theyear round. Gale, too, had come to have dreams of a future for ForlornRiver.
On the afternoon of the following day Ladd unexpectedly appearedleading a lame and lathered horse into the yard. Belding and Gale, whowere at work at the forge, looked up and were surprised out of speech.The legs of the horse were raw and red, and he seemed about to drop.Ladd's sombrero was missing; he wore a bloody scarf round his head;sweat and blood and dust had formed a crust on his face; little streamsof powdery dust slid from him; and the lower half of his scarred chapswere full of broken white thorns.
"Howdy, boys," he drawled. "I shore am glad to see you all."
"Where'n hell's your hat?" demanded Belding, furiously. It was aridiculous greeting. But Belding's words signified little. The darkshade of worry and solicitude crossing his face told more than hisblack amaze.
The ranger stopped unbuckling the saddle girths, and, looking atBelding, broke into his slow, cool laugh.
"Tom, you recollect that whopper of a saguaro up here where Carter'strail branches off the main trail to Casita? Well, I climbed it an'left my hat on top for a woodpecker's nest."
"You've been running--fighting?" queried Belding, as if Ladd had notspoken at all.
"I reckon it'll dawn on you after a while," replied Ladd, slipping thesaddle.
"Laddy, go in the house to the women," said Belding. "I'll tend toyour horse."
"Shore, Tom, in a minute. I've been down the road. An' I found hosstracks an' steer tracks goin' across the line. But I seen no sign ofraiders till this mornin'. Slept at Carter's last night. That raid theother day cleaned him out. He's shootin' mad. Well, this mornin' Irode plumb into a bunch of Carter's hosses, runnin' wild for home.Some Greasers were tryin' to head them round an' chase them back acrossthe line. I rode in between an' made matters embarrassin'. Carter'shosses got away. Then me an' the Greasers had a little game of hidean' seek in the cactus. I was on the wrong side, an' had to breakthrough their line to head toward home. We run some. But I had acloser call than I'm stuck on havin'."
"Laddy, you wouldn't have any such close calls if you'd ride one of myhorses," expostulated Belding. "This broncho of yours can run, andLord knows he's game. But you want a big, strong horse, Mexican bred,with cactus in his blood. Take one of the bunch--Bull, White Woman,Blanco Jose."
"I had a big, fast horse a while back, but I lost him," said Ladd."This bronch ain't so bad. Shore Bull an' that white devil with hisGreaser name--they could run down my bronch, kill him in a mile ofcactus. But, somehow, Tom, I can't make up my mind to take one of themgrand white hosses. Shore I reckon I'm kinda soft. An' mebbe I'dbetter take one before the raiders clean up Forlorn River."
Belding cursed low and deep in his throat, and the sound resembledmuttering thunder. The shade of anxiety on his face changed to one ofdark gloom and passion. Next to his wife and daughter there wasnothing so dear to him as those white horses. His father andgrandfather--all his progenitors of whom he had trace--had been loversof horses. It was in Belding's blood.
"Laddy, before it's too late can't I get the whites away from theborder?"
"Mebbe it ain't too late; but where can we take them?"
"To San Felipe?"
"No. We've more chance to hold them here."
"To Casita and the railroad?"
"Afraid to risk gettin' there. An' the town's full of rebels who needhosses."
"Then straight north?"
"Shore man, you're crazy. Ther's no water, no grass for a hundredmiles. I'll tell you, Tom, the safest plan would be to take the whitebunch south into Sonora, into some wild mountain valley. Keep themthere till the raiders have traveled on back east. Pretty soon therewon't be any rich pickin' left for these Greasers. An' then they'llride on to new ranges."
"Laddy, I don't know the trails into Sonora. An' I can't trust aMexican or a Papago. Between you and me, I'm afraid of this Indian whoherds for me."
"I reckon we'd better stick here, Tom.... Dick, it's some good to seeyou again. But you seem kinda quiet. Shore you get quieter all thetime. Did you see any sign of Jim out Sonoyta way?"
Then Belding led the lame horse toward the watering-trough, while thetwo rangers went toward the house, Dick was telling Ladd about theaffair at Papago Well when they turned the corner under the porch.Nell was sitting in the door. She rose with a little scream and cameflying toward them.
"Now I'll get it," whispered Ladd. "The women'll make a baby of me.An' shore I can't help myself."
"Oh, Laddy, you've been hurt!" cried Nell, as with white cheeks anddilating eyes she ran to him and caught his arm.
"Nell, I only run a thorn in my ear."
"Oh, Laddy, don't lie! You've lied before. I know you're hurt. Comein to mother."
"Shore, Nell, it's only a scratch. My bronch throwed me."
"Laddy, no horse every threw you." The girl's words and accusing eyesonly hurried the ranger on to further duplicity.
"Mebbe I got it when I was ridin' hard under a mesquite, an' a sharpsnag--"
"You've been shot!... Mama, here's Laddy, and he's been shot!.... Oh,these dreadful days we're having! I can't bear them! Forlorn Riverused to be so safe and quiet. Nothing happened. But now! Jim comeshome with a bloody hole in him--then Dick--then Laddy!.... Oh, I'mafraid some day they'll never come home."
The morning was bright, still, and clear as crystal. The heat waveshad not yet begun to rise from the desert.
A soft gray, white, and green tint perfectly blended lay like a mantleover mesquite and sand and cactus. The canyons of distant mountainshowed deep and full of lilac haze.
Nell sat perched high upon the topmost bar of the corral gate. Dickleaned beside her, now with his eyes on her face, now gazing out intothe alfalfa field where Belding's thoroughbreds grazed and pranced andromped and whistled. Nell watched the horses. She loved them, nevertired of watching them. But her gaze was too consciously averted fromthe yearning eyes that tried to meet hers to be altogether natural.
A great fenced field of dark velvety green alfalfa furnished a richbackground for the drove of about twenty white horses. Even withoutthe horses the field would have presented a striking contrast to thesurrounding hot, glaring blaze of rock and sand. Belding had bred ahundred or more horses from the original stock he had brought up fromDurango. His particular interest was in the almost unblemished whites,and these he had given especial care. He made a good deal of moneyselling this strain to friends among the ranchers back in Texas. Nomercenary consideration, however, could have made him part with thegreat, rangy white horses he had gotten from the Durango breeder. Hecalled them Blanco Diablo (White Devil), Blanco Sol (White Sun), BlancaReina (White Queen), Blanca Mujer (White Woman), and El Gran ToroBlanco (The Big White Bull). Belding had been laughed at by ranchersfor preserving the sentimental Durango names, and he had beenunmercifully ridiculed by cowboys. But the names had never beenchanged.
Blanco Diablo was the only horse in the field that was not free to roamand graze where he listed. A stake and a halter held him to onecorner, where he was severely let alone by the other horses. He did notlike this isolation. Blanco Diablo was not happy unless he wasrunning, or fighting a rival. Of the two he would rather fight. Ifanything white could resemble a devil, this horse surely did. He hadnothing beautiful about him, yet he drew the gaze and held it. Thelook of him suggested discontent, anger, revolt, viciousness. When hewas not grazing or prancing, he held his long, lean head level,pointing his nose and showing his teeth. Belding's favorite was almostall the world to him, and he swore Diablo could stand more heat andthirst and cactus than any other horse he owned, and could run down andkill any horse in the Southwest. The fact that Ladd did not agree withBelding on these salient points was a great disappointment, and also aperpetual source for argument. Ladd and Lash both hated Diablo; andDick Gale, after one or two narrow escapes from being brained, hadinclined to the cowboys' side of the question.
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bsp; El Gran Toro Blanco upheld his name. He was a huge, massive,thick-flanked stallion, a kingly mate for his full-bodied, glossyconsort, Blanca Reina. The other mare, Blanca Mujer, was dazzlingwhite, without a spot, perfectly pointed, racy, graceful, elegant, yetcarrying weight and brawn and range that suggested her relation to herforebears.
The cowboys admitted some of Belding's claims for Diablo, but they gaveloyal and unshakable allegiance to Blanco Sol. As for Dick, he had tofight himself to keep out of arguments, for he sometimes imagined hewas unreasonable about the horse. Though he could not understandhimself, he knew he loved Sol as a man loved a friend, a brother. Freeof heavy saddle and the clumsy leg shields, Blanco Sol was somehowall-satisfying to the eyes of the rangers. As long and big as Diablowas, Sol was longer and bigger. Also, he was higher, more powerful.He looked more a thing for action--speedier. At a distance thehonorable scars and lumps that marred his muscular legs were notvisible. He grazed aloof from the others, and did not cavort norprance; but when he lifted his head to whistle, how wild he appeared,and proud and splendid! The dazzling whiteness of the desert sun shonefrom his coat; he had the fire and spirit of the desert in his noblehead, its strength and power in his gigantic frame.
"Belding swears Sol never beat Diablo," Dick was saying.
"He believes it," replied Nell. "Dad is queer about that horse."
"But Laddy rode Sol once--made him beat Diablo. Jim saw the race."
Nell laughed. "I saw it, too. For that matter, even I have made Solput his nose before Dad's favorite."
"I'd like to have seen that. Nell, aren't you ever going to ride withme?"
"Some day--when it's safe."
"Safe!"
"I--I mean when the raiders have left the border."
"Oh, I'm glad you mean that," said Dick, laughing. "Well, I've oftenwondered how Belding ever came to give Blanco Sol to me."
"He was jealous. I think he wanted to get rid of Sol."
"No? Why, Nell, he'd give Laddy or Jim one of the whites any day."
"Would he? Not Devil or Queen or White Woman. Never in this world!But Dad has lots of fast horses the boys could pick from. Dick, I tellyou Dad wants Blanco Sol to run himself out--lose his speed on thedesert. Dad is just jealous for Diablo."
"Maybe. He surely has strange passion for horses. I think Iunderstand better than I used to. I owned a couple of racers once.They were just animals to me, I guess. But Blanco Sol!"
"Do you love him?" asked Nell; and now a warm, blue flash of eyes swepthis face.
"Do I? Well, rather."
"I'm glad. Sol has been finer, a better horse since you owned him. Heloves you, Dick. He's always watching for you. See him raise his head.That's for you. I know as much about horses as Dad or Laddy any day.Sol always hated Diablo, and he never had much use for Dad."
Dick looked up at her.
"It'll be--be pretty hard to leave Sol--when I go away."
Nell sat perfectly still.
"Go away?" she asked, presently, with just the faintest tremor in hervoice.
"Yes. Sometimes when I get blue--as I am to-day--I think I'll go. But,in sober truth, Nell, it's not likely that I'll spend all my life here."
There was no answer to this. Dick put his hand softly over hers; and,despite her half-hearted struggle to free it, he held on.
"Nell!"
Her color fled. He saw her lips part. Then a heavy step on thegravel, a cheerful, complaining voice interrupted him, and made himrelease Nell and draw back. Belding strode into view round the adobeshed.
"Hey, Dick, that darned Yaqui Indian can't be driven or hired or coaxedto leave Forlorn River. He's well enough to travel. I offered himhorse, gun, blanket, grub. But no go."
"That's funny," replied Gale, with a smile. "Let him stay--put him towork."
"It doesn't strike me funny. But I'll tell you what I think. Thatpoor, homeless, heartbroken Indian has taken a liking to you, Dick.These desert Yaquis are strange folk. I've heard strange stories aboutthem. I'd believe 'most anything. And that's how I figure his case.You saved his life. That sort of thing counts big with any Indian,even with an Apache. With a Yaqui maybe it's of deep significance.I've heard a Yaqui say that with his tribe no debt to friend or foeever went unpaid. Perhaps that's what ails this fellow."
"Dick, don't laugh," said Nell. "I've noticed the Yaqui. It'spathetic the way his great gloomy eyes follow you."
"You've made a friend," continued Belding. "A Yaqui could be a realfriend on this desert. If he gets his strength back he'll be ofservice to you, don't mistake me. He's welcome here. But you'reresponsible for him, and you'll have trouble keeping him frommassacring all the Greasers in Forlorn River."
The probability of a visit from the raiders, and a dash bolder thanusual on the outskirts of a ranch, led Belding to build a new corral.It was not sightly to the eye, but it was high and exceedingly strong.The gate was a massive affair, swinging on huge hinges and fasteningwith heavy chains and padlocks. On the outside it had been completelycovered with barb wire, which would make it a troublesome thing to workon in the dark.
At night Belding locked his white horses in this corral. The Papagoherdsman slept in the adobe shed adjoining. Belding did not imaginethat any wooden fence, however substantially built, could keepdetermined raiders from breaking it down. They would have to taketime, however, and make considerable noise; and Belding relied on thesefacts. Belding did not believe a band of night raiders would hold outagainst a hot rifle fire. So he began to make up some of the sleep hehad lost. It was noteworthy, however, that Ladd did not shareBelding's sanguine hopes.
Jim Lash rode in, reporting that all was well out along the line towardthe Sonoyta Oasis. Days passed, and Belding kept his rangers home.Nothing was heard of raiders at hand. Many of the newcomers, bothAmerican and Mexican, who came with wagons and pack trains from Casitastated that property and life were cheap back in that rebel-infestedtown.
One January morning Dick Gale was awakened by a shrill, menacing cry.He leaped up bewildered and frightened. He heard Belding's boomingvoice answering shouts, and rapid steps on flagstones. But these hadnot awakened him. Heavy breaths, almost sobs, seemed at his very door.In the cold and gray dawn Dick saw something white. Gun in hand, hebounded across the room. Just outside his door stood Blanco Sol.
It was not unusual for Sol to come poking his head in at Dick's doorduring daylight. But now in the early dawn, when he had been locked inthe corral, it meant raiders--no less. Dick called softly to thesnorting horse; and, hurriedly getting into clothes and boots, he wentout with a gun in each hand. Sol was quivering in every muscle. Likea dog he followed Dick around the house. Hearing shouts in thedirection of the corrals, Gale bent swift steps that way.
He caught up with Jim Lash, who was also leading a white horse.
"Hello, Jim! Guess it's all over but the fireworks," said Dick.
"I cain't say just what has come off," replied Lash. "I've got theBull. Found him runnin' in the yard."
They reached the corral to find Belding shaking, roaring like a madman.The gate was open, the corral was empty. Ladd stooped over the ground,evidently trying to find tracks.
"I reckon we might jest as well cool off an' wait for daylight,"suggested Jim.
"Shore. They've flown the coop, you can gamble on that. Tom, where'sthe Papago?" said Ladd.
"He's gone, Laddy--gone!"
"Double-crossed us, eh? I see here's a crowbar lyin' by the gatepost.That Indian fetched it from the forge. It was used to pry out thebolts an' steeples. Tom, I reckon there wasn't much time lost forcin'that gate."
Belding, in shirt sleeves and barefooted, roared with rage. He said hehad heard the horses running as he leaped out of bed.
"What woke you?" asked Laddy.
"Sol. He came whistling for Dick. Didn't you hear him before I calledyou?"
"Hear him! He came thunderin' right under my window. I jumped up inbed, an' when he let ou
t that blast Jim lit square in the middle of thefloor, an' I was scared stiff. Dick, seein' it was your room he blewinto, what did you think?"
"I couldn't think. I'm shaking yet, Laddy."
"Boys, I'll bet Sol spilled a few raiders if any got hands on him,"said Jim. "Now, let's sit down an' wait for daylight. It's my ideawe'll find some of the hosses runnin' loose. Tom, you go an' get someclothes on. It's freezin' cold. An' don't forget to tell the womenfolks we're all right."
Daylight made clear some details of the raid. The cowboys found tracksof eight raiders coming up from the river bed where their horses hadbeen left. Evidently the Papago had been false to his trust. His fewpersonal belongings were gone. Lash was correct in his idea of findingmore horses loose in the fields. The men soon rounded up eleven of thewhites, all more or less frightened, and among the number were Queenand Blanca Mujer. The raiders had been unable to handle more than onehorse for each man. It was bitter irony of fate that Belding shouldlose his favorite, the one horse more dear to him than all the others.Somewhere out on the trail a raider was fighting the iron-jawed savageBlanco Diablo.
"I reckon we're some lucky," observed Jim Lash.
"Lucky ain't enough word," replied Ladd. "You see, it was this way.Some of the raiders piled over the fence while the others worked on thegate. Mebbe the Papago went inside to pick out the best hosses. Butit didn't work except with Diablo, an' how they ever got him I don'tknow. I'd have gambled it'd take all of eight men to steal him. ButGreasers have got us skinned on handlin' hosses."
Belding was unconsolable. He cursed and railed, and finally declaredhe was going to trail the raiders.
"Tom, you just ain't agoin' to do nothin' of the kind," said Laddcoolly.
Belding groaned and bowed his head.
"Laddy, you're right," he replied, presently. "I've got to stand it.I can't leave the women and my property. But it's sure tough. I'm soreway down deep, and nothin' but blood would ever satisfy me."
"Leave that to me an' Jim," said Ladd.
"What do you mean to do?" demanded Belding, starting up.
"Shore I don't know yet.... Give me a light for my pipe. An' Dick, gofetch out your Yaqui."