CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE CALABASH STEW
I had agreed with Denton to stick to the beach, but Schwartz could notlast much longer, and I had not the slightest idea how far it mightprove to be to Mollyhay. So I turned up the trail.
We climbed a mountain ten thousand feet high. I mean that; and I know,for I've climbed them that high, and I know just how it feels, and howmany times you have to rest, and how long it takes, and how much itknocks out of you. Those are the things that count in measuringheight, and so I tell you we climbed that far. Actually I suppose thehill was a couple of hundred feet, if not less. But on account of thegrey mist I mentioned, I could not see the top, and the illusion wascomplete.
We reached the summit late in the afternoon, for the sun was square inour eyes. But instead of blinding me, it seemed to clear my sight, sothat I saw below me a little mud hut with smoke rising behind it, and asmall patch of cultivated ground.
I'll pass over how I felt about it: they haven't made the words--
Well, we stumbled down the trail and into the hut. At first I thoughtit was empty, but after a minute I saw a very old man crouched in acorner. As I looked at him he raised his bleared eyes to me, his headswinging slowly from side to side as though with a kind of palsy. Hecould not see me, that was evident, nor hear me, but some instinct notyet decayed turned him toward a new presence in the room. In my wilddesire for water I found room to think that here was a man even worseoff than myself.
A vessel of water was in the corner. I drank it. It was more than Icould hold, but I drank even after I was filled, and the waste ran fromthe corners of my mouth. I had forgotten Schwartz. The excess made mea little sick, but I held down what I had swallowed, and I reallybelieve it soaked into my system as it does into the desert earth aftera drought.
In a moment or so I took the vessel and filled it and gave it toSchwartz. Then it seemed to me that my responsibility had ended. Asudden great dreamy lassitude came over me. I knew I needed food, butI had no wish for it, and no ambition to search it out. The man in thecorner mumbled at me with his toothless gums. I remember wondering ifwe were all to starve there peacefully together--Schwartz and hisremaining gold coins, the man far gone in years, and myself. I did notgreatly care.
After a while the light was blotted out. There followed a slightpause. Then I knew that someone had flown to my side, and was kneelingbeside me and saying liquid, pitying things in Mexican. I swallowedsomething hot and strong. In a moment I came back from wherever I wasdrifting, to look up at a Mexican girl about twenty years old.
She was no great matter in looks, but she seemed like an angel to methen. And she had sense. No questions, no nothing. Just business.The only thing she asked of me was if I understood Spanish.
Then she told me that her brother would be back soon, that they werevery poor, that she was sorry she had no meat to offer me, that theywere VERY poor, that all they had was calabash--a sort of squash. Allthis time she was bustling things together. Next thing I know I had abig bowl of calabash stew between my knees.
Now, strangely enough, I had no great interest in that calabash stew.I tasted it, sat and thought a while, and tasted it again. By and by Ihad emptied the bowl. It was getting dark. I was very sleepy. A mancame in, but I was too drowsy to pay any attention to him. I heard thesound of voices. Then I was picked up bodily and carried to anout-building and laid on a pile of skins. I felt the weight of ablanket thrown over me--
I awoke in the night. Mind you, I had practically had no rest at allfor a matter of more than two weeks, yet I woke in a few hours. And,remember, even in eating the calabash stew I had felt no hunger inspite of my long fast. But now I found myself ravenous. You boys donot know what hunger is. It HURTS. And all the rest of that night Ilay awake chewing on the rawhide of a pack-saddle that hung near me.
Next morning the young Mexican and his sister came to us early,bringing more calabash stew. I fell on it like a wild animal, and justwallowed in it, so eager was I to eat. They stood and watched me--andI suppose Schwartz, too, though I had now lost interest in anyone butmyself--glancing at each other in pity from time to time.
When I had finished the man told me that they had decided to kill abeef so we could have meat. They were very poor, but God had broughtus to them--
I appreciated this afterward. At the time I merely caught at the word"meat." It seemed to me I could have eaten the animal entire, hide,hoofs, and tallow. As a matter of fact, it was mighty lucky theydidn't have any meat. If they had, we'd probably have killed ourselveswith it. I suppose the calabash was about the best thing for us underthe circumstances.
The Mexican went out to hunt up his horse. I called the girl back.
"How far is it to Mollyhay?" I asked her.
"A league," said she.
So we had been near our journey's end after all, and Denton wasprobably all right.
The Mexican went away horseback. The girl fed us calabash. We waited.
About one o'clock a group of horsemen rode over the hill. When theycame near enough I recognised Denton at their head. That man was oftempered steel--
They had followed back along the beach, caught our trail where we hadturned off, and so discovered us. Denton had fortunately found kindand intelligent people.
We said good-bye to the Mexican girl. I made Schwartz give her one ofhis gold pieces.
But Denton could not wait for us to say "hullo" even, he was so anxiousto get back to town, so we mounted the horses he had brought us, androde off, very wobbly.
We lived three weeks in Mollyhay. It took us that long to get fed up.The lady I stayed with made a dish of kid meat and stuffed olives--
Why, an hour after filling myself up to the muzzle I'd be hungry again,and scouting round to houses looking for more to eat!
We talked things over a good deal, after we had gained a littlestrength. I wanted to take a little flyer at Guaymas to see if I couldrun across this Handy Solomon person, but Denton pointed out thatAnderson would be expecting just that, and would take mighty good careto be scarce. His idea was that we'd do better to get hold of a boatand some water casks, and lug off the treasure we had stumbled over.Denton told us that the idea of going back and scooping all that dineroup with a shovel had kept him going, just as the idea of getting evenwith Anderson had kept me going. Schwartz said that after he'd carriedthat heavy gold over the first day, he made up his mind he'd get thespending of it or bust. That's why he hated so to throw it away.
There were lots of fishing boats in the harbour, and we hired one, anda man to run it for next to nothing a week. We laid a course north,and in six days anchored in our bay.
I tell you it looked queer. There were the charred sticks of the fire,and the coffeepot lying on its side. We took off our hats at poorBilly's grave a minute, and then climbed over the cholla-covered hillcarrying our picks and shovels, and the canvas sacks to take thetreasure away in.
There was no trouble in reaching the sandy flat. But when we got therewe found it torn up from one end to the other. A few scattered timbersand three empty chests with the covers pried off alone remained. HandySolomon had been there before us.
We went back to our boat sick at heart. Nobody said a word. We wentaboard and made our Greaser boatman head for Yuma. It took us a weekto get there. We were all of us glum, but Denton was the worst of thelot. Even after we'd got back to town and fallen into our old ways oflife, he couldn't seem to get over it. He seemed plumb possessed ofgloom, and moped around like a chicken with the pip. This surprisedme, for I didn't think the loss of money would hit him so hard. Itdidn't hit any of us very hard in those days.
One evening I took him aside and fed him a drink, and expostulated withhim.
"Oh, HELL, Rogers," he burst out, "I don't care about the loot. But,suffering cats, think how that fellow sized us up for a lot ofpattern-made fools; and how right he was about, it. Why all he did wasto sail out of sight around the next
corner. He knew we'd start acrosscountry; and we did. All we had to do was to lay low, and save ourlegs. He was BOUND to come back. And we might have nailed him when helanded."
"That's about all there was to it," concluded Colorado Rogers, after apause, "--except that I've been looking for him ever since, and when Iheard you singing that song I naturally thought I'd landed."
"And you never saw him again?" asked Windy Bill.
"Well," chuckled Rogers, "I did about ten year later. It was inTucson. I was in the back of a store, when the door in front openedand this man came in. He stopped at the little cigar-case by the door.In about one jump I was on his neck. I jerked him over backwardsbefore he knew what had struck him, threw him on his face, got my handsin his back-hair, and began to jump his features against the floor.Then all at once I noted that this man had two arms; so of course hewas the wrong fellow. "Oh, excuse me," said I, and ran out the backdoor."