The desert sand was a mystery to the unknown prospector. It held secrets under every rock and crevice that only those with wisdom knew, and this wisdom was gained by the experience of those who had gone on before. Only few had made it back to tell the tale, and none so far had lived beyond that.
The lizard and the liar both had forked tongues, and the journeymen found evidence in what was gained, and not what was believed. Yet neither were amble enough to see through their foolishness that what was gained was a quart of salt, lest he discover it had no value at all. The legends said otherwise.
It was a cloudy day to say the least, but it didn’t keep the sun from rising high above the parched grasses to gleam a path through stone. They had stopped to let the horse and mule drink some water, and Daniel explained that the legend had marked the end of the trail for one conquistador in the year of 1540.
He told them that while exploring the area along the Rio Grande River, some of the men ventured away from the main expedition looking for food and encampment from the Navajos. As legend had it, one of the Spanish cavaliers became infatuated with the daughter of an Indian chief. After convincing the others to go back and tell Coronado of their findings, he stayed behind to explore some more and gain the confidence of the Indian tribe. Once he had impressed them with his firearm, along with his ability as a marksman, the chief allowed his daughter to go hunting with the Spaniard.
One day when they had drank all of the water they were carrying with them, he asked her where they got their water when they were far from camp. She swore him to secrecy and led him to their sacred well. As he went to refill his watering bag, he noticed the sun reflecting off of the gold nuggets in the water. That night, he returned to the well alone, and gathered up all of the gold that he could carry back to Coronado. Then he marked a cross on the side of a nearby cliff and started to fill the spring with fragments of rock. He didn’t know that the Indian chief hadn’t fully trusted him, where he was caught off guard and killed in the darkness.
The Indian had dumped his body into the spring and told the chief what had happened. Soon after, the Navajos returned and filled the well in with rocks and said it was no longer sacred and could be used no more. So the tribe moved their camp elsewhere, without even noticing the cross the Spaniard had left on the face of the cliff.
Emmett had heard the story already, and it was of sore comfort to know that no one so far had returned from the expedition alive. He shifted the weight of his body against the wall of an escarpment they had continued the trek upon, and wondered how much of it was actually true.
“How do you know it’s still there?” he asked Daniel, as some of the loose sand and stone slid away from the side of the mountain.
Daniel reached out an arm and grabbed him steadily, holding onto the lead of the horse. Then he paused to catch his breath.
“Because nobody’s found it since,” he replied. “Only I’ve got a notion it’s those set of mountains beyond that ridge over there.”
He pointed to an area grown over with brush and twisted vines where three small hills appeared to emerge in the distance.
Annabelle stopped just short of the ledge behind him, trying to keep up the pace and already distraught from another days journey. Her blue dress was covered in dirt and wet stains soaked her underarms, not to mention the perspiration on her neck and chest. She made a scowl and swiped a gritty palm across her face to keep the loose hair from dangling, which left a streaked impression there.
“I swear this one better be it, Daniel Stone, or I’ll be digging a well on my own and tossing you in it,” she demanded.
Daniel turned to see that she had just smeared red clay across her cheeks and he laughed.
“And what is so funny now?!” she yelled.
He leaned in close and attempted to wipe it off with his shirt sleeve. “If Coronado was around today, he might mistake you for that old Indian chiefs daughter.”
Emmett, now steady on the path, extended his tin of water towards her.
“Here, Mama. Have a sip,” he said with sympathy.
She reached out and snatched it, glaring at Daniel in the process.
“It’s a good thing I can’t see myself,” she replied annoyed and embarrassed. “I’d probably find a good place to crawl away and hide.”
Daniel swung his head back and forth. “There’s nothing prettier this side of the Rio Grande, I’d swear on it.”
“Yeah well, what about the other side?” she mocked.
“You’re beauty just can’t be matched,” he laughed again, and it felt good to make her feel better about herself, although he too was already frustrated from the long haul.
She smiled, despite her dilemma and pouted, “I’m just slowing you down.”
“What?” he turned to her in with only mild aggravation. “I’d carry you on my back if I thought we’d get there any faster.”
Her eyes filled up with tears, but she turned her head and raised her chin so that it wouldn’t be so obvious.
“I asked you to stop about three hours ago and you said we would, but we haven’t yet,” her voice was as wavy as the heat coming off the rocks.
Daniel instantly felt like a heel, but frustrated just the same and noticing that Emmett was sure to rise to her defense.
“I’ve got a pebble in my shoe,” she continued to complain, “and something’s been trying to make its way up my skirt for the past mile.”
So Daniel stopped the mule that had their goods strapped tight to its back and handed Emmett the lead. Then he bent down and said, “Let’s have a look.” And as he shook the hemline of her skirt, a small black scorpion dropped out.
Her voice curdled with a shriek in dismay and Emmett quickly slid over to have a look.
“That could’ve stung you, Mama,” he said out of a concern and held Daniel in contempt.
With the edge of his boot, Daniel nudged it off the side of the cliff and it disappeared into a crack. Then he stood up and braced her by the shoulders and stared firmly into her eyes.
“I’m sorry you’re having to suffer so, but just you wait until we land that claim. I’ll take you all the way to San Francisco and buy you the best damn dress money can buy!” he encouraged her.
She put on a pretend smile, despite her temporary discomfort and wiped the tears away.
“Then will you make us respectable?” she looked hopeful for a response.
He paused for a moment and glanced back at the valley below.
“Dammit, Belle, we are respectable, and don’t you doubt for a minute that I don’t respect you. Anyone who saw the three of us would know we belong together. Now all we have to do it get over to the next ridge and see what’s waiting for us. I promise you can rest for a spell then,” he demanded.
So she gripped a hand firm against the rock and pressed her way past him, stepping around Emmet, while taking the mule by the strap to lead the way.
Emmett looked up at Daniel, who wiped his brow and gave him a wink, as though having gained the simple argument.
It took two and a half more hours before they reached what he thought to be the Tres Montosas. However, the vines and brush covered the face of the cliffs so that it was hard to see nay visible markings. They had walked its perimeter and pulled back branches until their arms itched from the briars, but Emmett had climbed around until he found an opening in the side of the mountain, formed by the inset of two boulders resting on top of the other.
Daniel slipped himself in first, with a warning for them to wait until he found it vacant, and what he found was a space that crested around seven feet high and then tapered back down on an uneven slant. Annabelle and Emmett joined him inside and helped him inspect the series of chambers, dark and musky with a sweet odor that smelled of a fragrant spice.
“Ceremonial,” he said, as he uncovered a clay piece of pottery, vascular in shape with a misshapen spout. He raised it to his nose and determined that it was herbal leaves with a blend of cinnamon and oil
.
Emmett had already wandered into the second chamber, dimly lit and afraid to venture much farther, but he saw a strand of dark feathers matted against the moist dirt floor. As he pulled it loose, he found that the feathers dangled by pieces of string that were tied to the face of a hard leather circle.
Daniel had wandered into the room as well, having been inspecting the walls with his hands, that were striped with gray and white veins.
“Looks like you found a shield,” he commented. “Probably belonged to an Indian once.”
Emmett was proud of his find and sat it against the wall as he took a small hand pick from the loop of Daniel’s belt and began to dig around on the floor of the narrow space, but more intriguing still, was a tunnel of squatting height. Daniel knelt to its level and peered inside. It was much cooler and too dark to see with the day having already shifted to the hours of evening. The light had mostly diminished so that mostly shadows were visible in contrast.
Daniel took the pick from Emmett and motioned for him to go outside and retrieve the other, while he slid flat on his back into the tunnel and began hacking away at the ceiling. It came crumbling down into chunks of rock, hard and yet held its position enough for him to get out in time, as the dust filled the chamber.
With the sound of it Annabelle turned the corner, seeing him cough as the dust rose around him, and uncertain about what to do.
“I’m okay,” he reassured her. “Only we’re gonna need some light in here.”
Annabelle peered dubiously into the darkened space as though something wild might slither out. “I can get the lantern,” she said as she headed back outside, and remained there long enough for the dust to settle.
There was a loud clap of thunder and then lightning that ignited the air and left goosebumps on their arms and stroked the dimming sky. Emmett had been persuading the mule to draw nearer to the wall as he jerked at the leather saddle strap, but the mule was cantankerous. So Annabelle went and took him by the bit as its lips quivered about in fear, and forced him along, having secured him to the thickness of a stumped base of a root bed. She could see the hairs raised along Emmett’s arms and rubbed her hand against his skin.
“Don’t know what he thinks he found, but we’d best show some encouragement,” she offered as she unclasped the lantern from the saddle strap, and gave him the other hand pick.
Emmett nodded and returned to the chamber, where Daniel was pushing his arm through the rubbish of tunnel rock and heaped up a pile of the more solid chunks.
Annabelle approached him with the lantern and lit the path down over the rocks. As he ran his finger along the smoother broken surface, she could see the shimmer of green and pink in with the ivory beige specks that flaked off in the dirt.
“What do you think it is?” she asked, both curious and impressed with his effort and ready to join in.
“Sure as hell ain’t gold, but it might be opals,” he glanced up to her with a sly faced grin and angled the rock under the light.
“What if it is, Daniel?” her eyes lit up. “What do you think it’s worth?”
Daniel began to beat it against a harder stone and then started picking away at it to see if it might reveal more detail.
“Don’t know exactly, but wouldn’t hurt to get what we can. It has been found around these parts, and the more we take out of here, the better off we’ll be.”
She agreed with a nod and took the other hand pick and began using it to pull the debris from the tunnel, stacking up the rock while Daniel worked to catch his breath. He had breathed in too much dust, and he had a dry nagging cough that had worn on him laboriously.
“Fetch him some water, Emmett,” she turned with a motion and the boy obeyed.
When he had reached the opening again, the mule was shifting its feet against the sand as though pressing mites into it.
“What’s wrong there?” he questioned as the sky lit up again and another shadow danced alongside the top of the adjoining mountain. It was eerie, and his shoulders shook at the electricity from the air and the movement that he saw recede into stone.
Quickly, he grabbed a flask of water from inside the strapped packing and stepped backwards into the opening, getting the water to Daniel and posing the question. “Do you really believe in spirits?” he asked nervously, though he tried not to let it show.
“What of it?” he asked as he drank the water that muddied down his chin and neck.
Annabelle stopped what she was doing and turned to him herself, feeling oddly uneasy about such pondering.
“It’s just that, I thought I saw something is all. Lightning like it is, could just be my imagination,” he turned back towards the other chamber as if keeping an eye over his shoulder for the possibility of an intruding apparition.
Annabelle knew that she had to give him an explanation, but she feared they could be trespassing instead.
“There are spirits, Emmett” she said, “both good and evil. However, I don’t think that we’ve done enough wrong that the bad should overtake us. But what did you see to be exact?”
“Shadows along the ridge that disappeared into the mountain, and a strange chill that came over me. The pack-horse saw it too.”
Daniel wasn’t too sure, but he knew that getting spooked wouldn’t help them to remain anywhere safe. “Could be birds, like an eagle or a hawk, heading for cover. Might even be bats, but let’s not go assuming the worst. If we are being watched, we need to stay alert to anything unusual.., a falling rock, crackling sounds against the ground, or that mule getting too full of piss and vinegar.”
“I’ll guard the opening,” he offered, as he hoisted the rifle over his shoulder and became as brave as he could be in that moment.
“That would be good,” replied Daniel. “We’ll have to stay put all night, so we might as well do what we can while we’re here.”
Annabelle agreed and she went to sit with her son for a short time, until the rain began to strike the side of the mountain. Then she joined Daniel and helped gather the best shaped stones, until the late hours of the night.
When they had finally tired from exhaustion and could do no more, Daniel saw that her bottom lip was trembling and there were tears in her eyes. Emmett had fallen asleep with the gun by his side, and they cuddled in the coolness of the damp spray that blew inside the opening.
“Why the tears?” he asked, as he brushed the hair away from her face and nuzzled her head against his chest.
“I’m not afraid,” she admitted, “it’s just that nothing this good has ever happened to us before.”
“It’s been a hard day,” he sighed and was practically in tears himself from all of the energy that had been unleashed, and the unwillingness to allow sleep to set in.
She sat up and stared at him hard, pressing the words for all it was worth. “Should anything happen, let’s not live with any regret,” she insisted.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he tried to reassure her. “You can rest easy, and I’ll make sure you both are safe.”
“Let’s not regret any of it,” she pressed in again, beaconing for an answer with her eyes, demanding it even.
“Okay then. Whatever you say,” he agreed and pulled her back into his chest. “Just relax and know that I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she replied and closed her eyes, absorbing all that she could from the strength that remained.
Above the ridgeline, an owl shrieked like the shredding tear of something sacred, being ripped by the motion of its wings from an outstretched swoop to the tip of a tree limb. At the base of the tree was a boulder that bowed out over the ledge, and shielded the Comanche from the dark rain.
sorted ruins