IX. IN THE DESERT CRUCIBLE
That hard experience was but the beginning of many cruel trials for JohnShefford.
He never knew who his assailants were, nor their motive other thanrobbery; and they had gotten little, for they had not found the largesum of money sewed in the lining of his coat. Joe Lake declared it wasShadd's work, and the Mormon showed the stern nature that lay hiddenunder his mild manner. Nas Ta Bega shook his head and would not tellwhat he thought. But a somber fire burned in his eyes.
The three started with a heavily laden pack-train and went down themountain slope into West Canyon. The second day they were shot at fromthe rim of the walls. Lake was wounded, hindering the swift flightnecessary to escape deeper into the canyon. Here they hid for days,while the Mormon recovered and the Indian took stealthy trips to try tolocate the enemy. Lack of water and grass for the burros drove themon. They climbed out of a side canyon, losing several burros on a roughtrail, and had proceeded to within half a day's journey of Red Lakewhen they were attacked while making camp in a cedar grove. Sheffordsustained an exceedingly painful injury to his leg, but, fortunately,the bullet went through without breaking a bone. With that burning painthere came to Shefford the meaning of fight, and his rifle grew hot inhis hands. Night alone saved the trio from certain fatality. Under thecover of darkness the Indian helped Shefford to escape. Joe Lake lookedout for himself. The pack-train was lost, and the mustangs, exceptNack-yal.
Shefford learned what it meant to lie out at night, listening forpursuit, cold to his marrow, sick with dread, and enduring frightfulpain from a ragged bullet-hole. Next day the Indian led him down intothe red basin, where the sun shone hot and the sand reflected the heat.They had no water. A wind arose and the valley became a place of flyingsand. Through a heavy, stifling pall Nas Ta Bega somehow got Shefford tothe trading-post at Red Lake. Presbrey attended to Shefford's injuryand made him comfortable. Next day Joe Lake limped in, surly and somber,with the news that Shadd and eight or ten of his outlaw gang had gottenaway with the pack-train.
In short time Shefford was able to ride, and with his companions wentover the pass to Kayenta. Withers already knew of his loss, and all hesaid was that he hoped to meet Shadd some day.
Shefford showed a reluctance to go again to the hidden village in thesilent canyon with the rounded walls. The trader appeared surprised, butdid not press the point. And Shefford meant sooner or later to tell him,yet never quite reached the point. The early summer brought more workfor the little post, and Shefford toiled with the others. He liked theoutdoor tasks, and at night was grateful that he was too tired to think.Then followed trips to Durango and Bluff and Monticello. He rode fiftymiles a day for many days. He knew how a man fares who packs light andrides far and fast. When the Indian was with him he got along well,but Nas Ta Bega would not go near the towns. Thus many mishaps wereShefford's fortune.
Many and many a mile he trailed his mustang, for Nack-yal never forgotthe Sagi, and always headed for it when he broke his hobbles. Sheffordaccompanied an Indian teamster in to Durango with a wagon and four wildmustangs. Upon the return, with a heavy load of supplies, accident putShefford in charge of the outfit. In despair he had to face the hardesttask that could have been given him--to take care of a crippled Indian,catch, water, feed, harness, and drive four wild mustangs that did notknow him and tried to kill him at every turn, and to get that preciousload of supplies home to Kayenta. That he accomplished it proved to hintthe possibilities of a man, for both endurance and patience. From thattime he never gave up in the front of any duty.
In the absence of an available Indian he rode to Durango and back inrecord time. Upon one occasion he was lost in a canyon for days, with nofood and little water. Upon another he went through a sand-storm in theopen desert, facing it for forty miles and keeping to the trail; When herode in to Kayenta that night the trader, in grim praise, said therewas no worse to endure. At Monticello Shefford stood off a band ofdesperadoes, and this time Shefford experienced a strange, sickeningshock in the wounding of a man. Later he had other fights, but in noneof them did he know whether or not he had shed blood.
The heat of midsummer came, when the blistering sun shone, and a hotblast blew across the sand, and the furious storms made floods in thewashes. Day and night Shefford was always in the open, and any one whohad ever known him in the past would have failed to recognize him now.
In the early fall, with Nas Ta Bega as companion, he set out to thesouth of Kayenta upon long-neglected business of the trader. Theyvisited Red Lake, Blue Canyon, Keams Canyon, Oribi, the Moki villages,Tuba, Moencopie, and Moen Ave. This trip took many weeks and gaveShefford all the opportunity he wanted to study the Indians, and theconditions nearer to the border of civilization. He learned the truthabout the Indians and the missionaries.
Upon the return trip he rode over the trail he had followed alone toRed Lake and thence on to the Sagi, and it seemed that years had passedsince he first entered this wild region which had come to be home, yearsthat had molded him in the stern and fiery crucible of the desert.