Arizona Nights
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BURIED TREASURE
The Old Timer's voice broke a little. We had leisure to notice thateven the drip from the eaves had ceased. A faint, diffused lightvouchsafed us dim outlines of sprawling figures and tumbled bedding.Far in the distance outside a wolf yelped.
We could do nothing for him except shelter him from the sun, and wethis forehead with sea-water; nor could we think clearly for ourselvesas long as the spark of life lingered in him. His chest rose and fellregularly, but with long pauses between. When the sun was overhead hesuddenly opened his eyes.
"Fellows," said he, "it's beautiful over there; the grass is so green,and the water so cool; I am tired of marching, and I reckon I'll crossover and camp."
Then he died. We scooped out a shallow hole above tide-mark, and laidhim in it, and piled over him stones from the wash.
Then we went back to the beach, very solemn, to talk it over.
"Now, boys," said I, "there seems to me just one thing to do, and thatis to pike out for water as fast as we can."
"Where?" asked Denton.
"Well," I argued, "I don't believe there's any water about this bay.Maybe there was when that chart was made. It was a long time ago. Andany way, the old pirate was a sailor, and no plainsman, and maybe hemistook rainwater for a spring. We've looked around this end of thebay. The chances are we'd use up two or three days exploring aroundthe other, and then wouldn't be as well off as we are right now."
"Which way?" asked Denton again, mighty brief.
"Well," said I, "there's one thing I've always noticed in case of folksheld up by the desert: they generally go wandering about here and therelooking for water until they die not far from where they got lost. Andusually they've covered a heap of actual distance."
"That's so," agreed Denton.
"Now, I've always figured that it would be a good deal better to startright out for some particular place, even if it's ten thousand milesaway. A man is just as likely to strike water going in a straight lineas he is going in a circle; and then, besides, he's getting somewhere."
"Correct," said Denton,
"So," I finished, "I reckon we'd better follow the coast south and tryto get to Mollyhay."
"How far is that?" asked Schwartz.
"I don't rightly know. But somewheres between three and five hundredmiles, at a guess."
At that he fell to glowering and grooming with himself, brooding overwhat a hard time it was going to be. That is the way with a German.First off he's plumb scared at the prospect of suffering anything, andwould rather die right off than take long chances. After he gets intothe swing of it, he behaves as well as any man.
We took stock of what we had to depend on. The total assets proved tobe just three pairs of legs. A pot of coffee had been on the fire, butthat villain had kicked it over when he left. The kettle of beans wasthere, but somehow we got the notion they might have been poisoned, sowe left them. I don't know now why we were so foolish--if poison washis game, he'd have tried it before--but at that time it seemedreasonable enough. Perhaps the horror of the morning's work, and thesight of the brittle-brown mountains, and the ghastly yellow glare ofthe sun, and the blue waves racing by outside, and the big strong windthat blew through us so hard that it seemed to blow empty our souls,had turned our judgment. Anyway, we left a full meal there in thebeanpot.
So without any further delay we set off up the ridge I had started tocross that morning. Schwartz lagged, sulky as a muley cow, but wemanaged to keep him with us. At the top of the ridge we took ourbearings for the next deep bay. Already we had made up our minds tostick to the sea-coast, both on account of the lower country over whichto travel and the off chance of falling in with a fishing vessel.Schwartz muttered something about its being too far even to the nextbay, and wanted to sit down on a rock. Denton didn't say anything, buthe jerked Schwartz up by the collar so fiercely that the German gave itover and came along.
We dropped down into the gully, stumbled over the boulder wash, andbegan to toil in the ankle-deep sand of a little sage-brush flat thisside of the next ascent. Schwartz followed steadily enough now, buthad fallen forty or fifty feet behind. This was a nuisance, as we badto keep turning to see if he still kept up.
Suddenly he seemed to disappear.
Denton and I hurried back to find him on his hands and knees behind asagebrush, clawing away at the sand like mad.
"Can't be water on this flat," said Denton; "he must have gone crazy."
"What's the matter, Schwartz?" I asked.
For answer he moved a little to one side, showing beneath his knee onecorner of a wooden box sticking above the sand.
At this we dropped beside him, and in five minutes had uncovered thewhole of the chest. It was not very large, and was locked. A rockfrom the wash fixed that, however. We threw back the lid.
It was full to the brim of gold coins, thrown in loose, nigh twobushels of them.
"The treasure!" I cried.
There it was, sure enough, or some of it. We looked the rest through,but found nothing but the gold coins. The altar ornaments and jewelswere lacking.
"Probably buried in another box or so," said Denton.
Schwartz wanted to dig around a little.
"No good," said I. "We've got our work cut out for us as it is."
Denton backed me up. We were both old hands at the business, had eachin our time suffered the "cotton-mouth" thirst, and the memory of itoutweighed any desire for treasure.
But Schwartz was money-mad. Left to himself he would have staid onthat sand flat to perish, as certainly as had poor Billy. We hadfairly to force him away, and then succeeded only because we let himfill all his pockets to bulging with the coins. As we moved up thenext rise, he kept looking back and uttering little moans against thecrime of leaving it.
Luckily for us it was winter. We shouldn't have lasted six hours atthis time of year. As it was, the sun was hot against the shale andthe little stones of those cussed hills. We plodded along until lateafternoon, toiling up one hill and down another, only to repeatimmediately. Towards sundown we made the second bay, where we plungedinto the sea, clothes and all, and were greatly refreshed. I suppose aman absorbs a good deal that way. Anyhow, it always seemed to help.
We were now pretty hungry, and, as we walked along the shore, we beganto look for turtles or shellfish, or anything else that might comehandy. There was nothing. Schwartz wanted to stop for a night's rest,but Denton and I knew better than that.
"Look here, Schwartz," said Denton, "you don't realise you're enteredagainst time in this race--and that you're a damn fool to carry allthat weight in your clothes."
So we dragged along all night.
It was weird enough, I can tell you. The moon shone cold and whiteover that dead, dry country. Hot whiffs rose from the baked stones andhillsides. Shadows lay under the stones like animals crouching. Whenwe came to the edge of a silvery hill we dropped off into pitchyblackness. There we stumbled over boulders for a minute or so, andbegan to climb the steep shale on the other side. This was fearfulwork. The top seemed always miles away. By morning we didn't seem tohave made much of anywhere. The same old hollow-looking mountains withthe sharp edges stuck up in about the same old places.
We had got over being very hungry, and, though we were pretty dry, wedidn't really suffer yet from thirst. About this time Denton ranacross some fishhook cactus, which we cut up and chewed. They have asticky wet sort of inside, which doesn't quench your thirst any, buthelps to keep you from drying up and blowing away.
All that day we plugged along as per usual. It was main hard work, andwe got to that state where things are disagreeable, but mechanical.Strange to say, Schwartz kept in the lead. It seemed to me at the timethat he was using more energy than the occasion called for--just as manruns faster before he comes to the giving-out point. However, thehours went by, and he didn't seem to get any more tired than the restof us.
We ke
pt a sharp lookout for anything to eat, but there was nothing butlizards and horned toads. Later we'd have been glad of them, but bythat time we'd got out of their district. Night came. Just at sundownwe took another wallow in the surf, and chewed some more fishhookcactus. When the moon came up we went on.
I'm not going to tell you how dead beat we got. We were pretty toughand strong, for all of us had been used to hard living, but after thethird day without anything to eat and no water to drink, it came to bepretty hard going. It got to the point where we had to have someREASON for getting out besides just keeping alive. A man wouldsometimes rather die than keep alive, anyway, if it came only to that.But I know I made up my mind I was going to get out so I could smash upthat Anderson, and I reckon Denton had the same idea. Schwartz didn'tsay anything, but he pumped on ahead of us, his back bent over, and hisclothes sagging and bulging with the gold he carried.
We used to travel all night, because it was cool, and rest an hour ortwo at noon. That is all the rest we did get. I don't know how fastwe went; I'd got beyond that. We must have crawled along mighty slow,though, after our first strength gave out. The way I used to do was tocollect myself with an effort, look around for my bearings, pick out alandmark a little distance off, and forget everything but it. Then I'dplod along, knowing nothing but the sand and shale and slope under myfeet, until I'd reached that landmark. Then I'd clear my mind and pickout another.
But I couldn't shut out the figure of Schwartz that way. He used towalk along just ahead of my shoulder. His face was all twisted up, butI remember thinking at the time it looked more as if he was worried inhis mind than like bodily suffering. The weight of the gold in hisclothes bent his shoulders over.
As we went on the country gradually got to be more mountainous, and, aswe were steadily growing weaker, it did seem things were piling up onus. The eighth day we ran out of the fishhook cactus, and, being on ahigh promontory, were out of touch with the sea. For the first time mytongue began to swell a little. The cactus had kept me from thatbefore. Denton must have been in the same fix, for he looked at me andraised one eyebrow kind of humorous.
Schwartz was having a good deal of difficulty to navigate. I will sayfor him that he had done well, but now I could see that his strengthwas going on him in spite of himself. He knew it, all right, for whenwe rested that day he took all the gold coins and spread them in a row,and counted them, and put them back in his pocket, and then all of asudden snatched out two handfuls and threw them as far as he could.
"Too heavy," he muttered, but that was all he could bring himself tothrow away.
All that night we wandered high in the air. I guess we tried to keep ageneral direction, but I don't know. Anyway, along late, but beforemoonrise--she was now on the wane--I came to, and found myself lookingover the edge of a twenty-foot drop. Right below me I made out a faintglimmer of white earth in the starlight. Somehow it reminded me of alittle trail I used to know under a big rock back in Texas.
"Here's a trail," I thought, more than half loco; "I'll follow it!"
At least that's what half of me thought. The other half was sensible,and knew better, but it seemed to be kind of standing to one side, alittle scornful, watching the performance. So I slid and slipped downto the strip of white earth, and, sure enough, it was a trail. At thatthe loco half of me gave the sensible part the laugh. I followed thepath twenty feet and came to a dark hollow under the rock, and in it around pool of water about a foot across. They say a man kills himselfdrinking too much, after starving for water. That may be, but itdidn't kill me, and I sucked up all I could hold. Perhaps the fishhookcactus had helped. Well, sir, it was surprising how that drink broughtme around. A minute before I'd been on the edge of going plumb loco,and here I was as clear-headed as a lawyer.
I hunted up Denton and Schwartz. They drank, themselves full, too.Then we rested. It was mighty hard to leave that spring--
Oh, we had to do it. We'd have starved sure, there. The trail was agame trail, but that did us no good, for we had no weapons.
How we did wish for the coffeepot, so we could take some away. Wefilled our hats, and carried them about three hours, before the waterbegan to soak through. Then we had to drink it in order to save it.
The country fairly stood up on end. We had to climb separate littlehills so as to avoid rolling rocks down on each other. It took it outof us. About this time we began to see mountain sheep. They wouldcome right up to the edges of the small cliffs to look at us. We threwstones at them, hoping to hit one in the forehead, but of coursewithout any results.
The good effects of the water lasted us about a day. Then we began tosee things again. Off and on I could see water plain as could be inevery hollow, and game of all kinds standing around and looking at me.I knew these were all fakes. By making an effort I could swing thingsaround to where they belonged. I used to do that every once in awhile, just to be sure we weren't doubling back, and to look out forreal water. But most of the time it didn't seem to be worth while. Ijust let all these visions riot around and have a good time inside meor outside me, whichever it was. I knew I could get rid of them anyminute. Most of the time, if I was in any doubt, it was easier tothrow a stone to see if the animals were real or not. The real onesran away.
We began to see bands of wild horses in the uplands. One day bothDenton and I plainly saw one with saddle marks on him. If only one ofus had seen him, it wouldn't have counted much, but we both made himout. This encouraged us wonderfully, though I don't see why it shouldhave. We had topped the high country, too, and had started down theother side of the mountains that ran out on the promontory. Denton andI were still navigating without any thought of giving up, but Schwartzwas getting in bad shape. I'd hate to pack twenty pounds over thatcountry even with rest, food, and water. He was toting it on nothing.We told him so, and he came to see it, but he never could persuadehimself to get rid of the gold all at once. Instead he threw away thepieces one by one. Each sacrifice seemed to nerve him up for anotherheat. I can shut my eyes and see it now--the wide, glaring, yellowcountry, the pasteboard mountains, we three dragging along, and thefierce sunshine flashing from the doubloons as one by one they wentspinning through the air.