CHAPTER XII
THE CROSSING TRAILS
As Kut-le, with Rhoda in his arms, disappeared into the mesa fissure,John DeWitt threw himself from his horse and was at the opening beforethe others had more than brought their horses to their haunches.
He was met by Alchise's rifle, with Alchise entirely hidden from view.For a moment the four men stood panting and speechless. The encounterhad been so sudden, so swift that they could not believe their senses.Then Billy Porter uttered an oath that reverberated from the rocky wall.
"They will get to the top!" he cried. "Jack, you and DeWitt get upthere! Carlos and I will hold this!"
The two men mounted immediately and galloped along the mesa wall,looking for an ascent. Neither of them spoke but both were breathinghard, and through his blistered skin DeWitt's cheeks glowed feverishly.For a mile up and down from the fissure the wall was a blank, exceptfor a single wide split which did not come within fifty feet of theground. After over half an hour of frantic search, DeWitt found,nearly three miles from the fissure, a rough spot where the wall gaveback in a few narrow crumbling ledges.
"We'll have to leave the horses," he said, "and try that."
Jack nodded tensely. They dismounted, pulled the reins over thehorses' heads and started up the wall, John leading, carefully. Onebitter lesson the desert was teaching him: haste in the hot countryspells ruin! So, though Rhoda's voice still rang in his ears, thoughthe sight of the slender boyish figure struggling in Kut-le's armsstill ravished his eyes, he worked carefully.
The ascent was all but impossible. The few jutting ledges were sonarrow that foothold was precarious, so far apart that only the slightbackward slant of the wall made it possible for them to flatten theirbodies against the crumbling brown rock and thus keep from falling.They toiled desperately, silently. After an hour of utmost effort,they reached the top, and with an exclamation of exultation started inthe direction of the fissure. But their exultation was short-lived.The great split that stopped fifty feet from the desert floor cut themoff from the main mesa. They ran hastily along its edge but at nopoint was it to be crossed. Shortly DeWitt left Jack to follow it backand he hastened to the mesa front where he made a perilous descent andreturned with the horses to Porter.
That gentleman forced John to eat some breakfast while Carlos rodehastily to scour the mesa front to the west. Porter and the Mexicanhad captured two of the horses and the burro that the Indians had left.The other horses had run out into the desert back to the last springthey had camped at, Porter said. To DeWitt's great disappointment, thehorses carried only blankets, and the burro was loaded with bacon andflour. There were none of Rhoda's personal belongings. The animalswere in good condition, however, and the men annexed them to theiroutfit gladly.
John was torn betwixt hope and bitter disappointment.
"Do you think they could climb out of the fissure?" he asked half adozen times, then without waiting for an answer, "Did you see her face,Billy? I had just a glimpse! Didn't she look well! Just that oneglance has put new life in me! I know we will get her! Even thiscursed desert isn't wide enough to keep me from her! God help thatIndian when I get him!"
Porter kept his eyes on Alchise's rifle which had never wavered in thepast three hours.
"I've a notion to shoot the barrel off that thing just for luck!" hegrowled. "John, sit down! You will need all the strength you've gotand then some before you catch that Injun!"
"What are you going to do?" asked John, seating himself in the sandsome few feet from the fissure.
"The big probability is," said Billy, "that they are in the crack. Itwould be just about impossible for a girl to climb out of one of 'em.If they have got out, though, it's just a matter of finding their trailagain. We'll have 'em! It's just this chance crack that saved 'em.If you're rested, ride along the west wall and try for the top again."
For the next five hours, Porter guarded the mesa front alone. It wasnearing six o'clock when Jack returned, exhausted and disappointed. Hehad followed the great split back until the mesa top became so cut andstriated with mighty fissures that progress was impossible.
"Isn't it the devil's own luck," he growled to Porter as he ate, "thatwe should have let him get into that one crack! What next! Unlessthey are still in there, we've lost them and are just losing timesquatting here."
As he spoke, there was a sound of voices in the fissure. The two mencocked their rifles as John and Carlos emerged from the opening. Johnwas scowling and breathless.
"Lost 'em as usual, by our infernal stupidity," he panted, while Carlosdropped his empty canteen and lifted Porter's to his lips. "I roderound to the south of the mesa. There are a couple of possible ascentsthere. I found Carlos making one. We followed a dozen fissures beforewe located this one. We got into it about a mile back from here.Here's a basket we found at the bottom in a burlap bag."
He tossed one of Cesca's pitch baskets at Billy, then threw himself inthe sand.
"They were down off the mesa, I bet," he went on, "before we foolsfound the way up, and it was easy for the chap they left guarding theentrance to avoid us. The mesa is covered with big rocks."
"He got away within the last half-hour then," said Billy, "for I didn'tstir from this spot until the burro started to eat the grub pack, and Inaturally had to wrestle with him. And no human being could a got outthe front even then."
"God! What a country!" groaned DeWitt. "The Indians outwit us atevery step!"
"Well," Jack answered dejectedly, "tell us what we could have donedifferently."
"I'm not blaming any one," replied John.
Billy Porter rose briskly.
"You boys quit your kicking. The scent is still warm. You fellows geta couple of hours' sleep while I take the horses back to Coyote Holefor water. By daylight we got to be on the south side of the mesa topick up the trail."
Billy's businesslike manner heartened Jack and John DeWitt. Theyturned in beside Carlos, who already was sleeping.
Dawn found them examining the ascents on the south side of the mesa butthey found no traces and as the sun came well up they followed the onlypossible way toward the mountains. At noon they found a low spring ina pocket between mesa and mountain. Kut-le was growing either defiantor careless, for he had left a heap of ashes and a pile of half-eatendesert mice. Very much cheered they allowed the horses a fair rest.They found no further traces of camp or trail that day and made campthat night in the open desert.
At dawn they were crossing a heavily wooded mountain. The sun had notyet risen when they heard a sound of singing.
"What's that?" asked DeWitt sharply, as the four pulled up their horses.
"A medicine cry," answered Jack. "We must be near some medicine-man's_campos_."
"Come on," cried DeWitt, "we'll quiz them!"
"Hold up, you chump!" exclaimed Billy. "If you rush in on a cry thatway you are apt not to come back again. You've got to go at 'emcareful. Let me do the talking."
They rode toward the sound of the chant and shortly a dingy _campos_came into view. An Indian buck made his way from the doorway towardthem.
"Who is sick, friend?" asked Billy.
"Old buck," said the Indian.
"Apache?" said Billy.
The Indian nodded.
"You _sabe_ Apache named Kut-le?"
The buck shook his head, but Billy went on patiently.
"Yes, you _sabe_ him. He old Ke-say's son. Apache chief's son. Herun off with white squaw. We want squaw, we no hurt him. Squaw sick,no good for Injun. You tell, have money." Billy displayed a silverdollar.
The Indian brightened.
"Long time 'go, some Injun say he _sabe_ Kut-le. Some Injun say he allsame white man. Some Injun say he heap smart." He looked at Billyinquiringly, and Billy nodded approval. DeWitt swallowed nervously."Come two, three day 'go," the buck went on, his eyes on the silverdollar, "big Injun, carry white squaw, go by here very fast. He gothat way all heap fast." The bu
ck pointed south.
"Did he speak to you? What did he say?" cried DeWitt.
But the Indian lapsed into silence and refused to speak more. Porterfelt well rewarded for his efforts and tossed the dollar to the Indian.
"Gee!" said Billy, as they started elated down the mountain. "I wishwe could overtake him before he outfits again. That poverty-strickenlot couldn't have had any horses here for him to use. I'll bet hemakes for the nearest ranch where he could steal a good bunch. Thatwould be at Kelly's, sixty miles south of here. We'll hike forKelly's!"
This idea did not meet with enthusiastic approval from the other threebut as no one had a better suggestion to make, the trail to Kelly's wastaken. It seemed to John Dewitt that Billy relied little on scienceand much on intuition in trailing the Indians. At first, consideringPorter's early boasts about his skill, DeWitt was much disappointed bythe old-timer's haphazard methods. But after a few weeks' testing ofthe terrible hardships of the desert, after a few demonstrations of theApache's cleverness, John had concluded that intuition was the mostreliable weapon that the whites could hope to discover with which tooffset the Indian's appalling skill and knowledge.
It was an exhausted quartet with its string of horses that drew up atKelly's dusty corral. Dick Kelly, a stocky Irishman, greeted thestrangers pleasantly. When, however, he learned their names he rose tothe occasion as only an Irishman can.
"You gentlemen are at the end of your rope, wid the end frayed atthat!" he said. "Now come in for a few hours' rest and the Chinamanwill cook you the best meal he knows how."
"Lord, no!" cried Billy. "We're so close on the track now that we canhang on to the end. If you've had no trace here we'll just double backand start from the mountains again!"
By this time a dozen cowboys and ranch hands were gathered about thenewcomers. Every one knew about Rhoda's disappearance. Every one knewabout every man in the little search party. In the flicker of thelanterns the men looked pityingly at DeWitt's haggard face.
"Say," said a tall, lank cowman, "if you'll go in and sleep tilldaylight, usn'll scour this part of the desert with a fine-tooth comb.So you all won't lose a minute by taking a little rest. An' if we findthe Injun we'll string him up and save you the trouble."
DeWitt spoke for the first time.
"If you find the Indian," he said succinctly, "he's mine!"
There was a moment's silence in the crowd. These men were familiarwith elemental passion. DeWitt's feeling was perfectly correct intheir eyes. The pause came as each pictured himself in DeWitt's placewith the image of the delicate Eastern girl suffering who knew whattorments constantly before him.
"If Mr. Kelly can arrange for that," said Jack, "I guess it will aboutsave our lives. I'd like a chance to write a letter to my wife."
"You ought to go back to the ditch, Jack," said DeWitt, "Porter and Iwill manage somehow."
Jack gave DeWitt a strange look.
"Rhoda's a lifelong friend of mine. She was stolen from my home by myfriend whom I told her she could trust. Katherine and the foreman canrun the ranch."
By the time that the four had washed themselves, Kelly had his mendotted over the surrounding desert. For the first time in weeks, thesearchers sat down at a table. DeWitt, Porter and Newman were inastonishing contrast to the three who had dined at the Newman ranch thenight of Cartwell's introduction to Porter. Their khaki clothes hadgradually been replaced by nondescript garments picked up at variousranches. DeWitt and Porter boasted of corduroy trousers, while Jackwore overalls. On the other hand, Jack wore a good blue flannel shirt,while the other two displayed only faded gingham garments that mighthave answered to almost any name. All of them were a deep mahoganycolor, with chapped, split lips and bleached hair, while DeWitt's eyeswere badly inflamed from sun-glare and sand-storm.
They ate silently. Dick Kelly, sitting at the head of the table, pliedthem with food and asked few questions. DeWitt's shaking hands toldhim that questions were torture to the poor fellow. After the mealKelly led them to bed at once, and they slept without stirring untilfour o'clock in the morning, when the Chinaman called them. Breakfastwas steaming on the table.
"Now," said Kelly, as his guests ate, "the boys didn't get a smell forye, but we've a suggestion. Have you been through the Pueblo countryyet?"
"No," said Porter.
"Well," the host went on, "Chira is the only place round here except myranch where he could get a new outfit. He's part Pueblo, you know,too. I'd start for there if I was you."
Carlos entered to hear this suggestion.
"I've got a friend at Chira," he said, "who might help us. He's ahalf-breed."
The tired men took eagerly to this forlorn hope. With all thepopulation of the ranch, including the cook, gathered to wish themGodspeed, the four started off before the sun had more than tinted theeast. Kelly had offered them anything on the ranch, from himself, hiscook and his cowboys, to the choice of his horses. His guests left asmuch heartened by his cheerfulness and good will as they were by theactual physical comforts he had given them.
The trail to Chira was long and hard. They reached the little town atdusk and Carlos set out at once in search of his friend, Philip. Hefound him easily. He was half Mexican, half Pueblo. He and Carloschatted briskly in hybrid Spanish while the Americans watched thehorses wade in the little river. Visitors were so common in Chira thatthe newcomers attracted little or no attention.
Carlos finally turned from his friend.
"Philip does not know anything about it. He says for us to come to hishouse while he finds out anything. His wife is a good cook."
The thought of a hot meal was pleasant to the Americans. They followedgladly to Philip's adobe rooms. Here the half-breed left them to hiswife and disappeared. He was gone perhaps an hour when he returnedwith a bit of cloth in his hand, which he handed to Carlos with a fewrapid sentences. Carlos gave the scrap of cloth to DeWitt, who lookedat it eagerly then gave a cry of joy. It was Rhoda's handkerchief.
"He found a little girl washing her doll with it at the river," saidCarlos. "She said she found it blowing along the street this morning."
"Come on!" cried Jack, making for the door.
"Come on where?" said Billy. "If they are in the village, you don'twant to get away very far. And if they ain't, which way are you going?"
"Ask Philip where to go, Carlos," said DeWitt.
He held the little moist handkerchief in his hand tightly while hisheart beat heavily. Once more hope was soaring high.
Philip thought deeply, then he and Carlos talked rapidly together.
"Philip says," reported Carlos, "that you must go out and watch alongthe river front so that if they have not gone you can catch them ifthey try. He and I will go visit every family as if I wanted to buy anoutfit."
Darkness had settled on the little town when the three Americans tookup their vigil opposite the open face of the Pueblo along the river.All that night they stood on guard but not a human being crossed theirline of patrol.