CHAPTER V
_A SOLITARY EXPLORER_
As Matt Larkin brought his car to a stop, the traveller greeted them asif he were an old acquaintance and had made an appointment for them tomeet him at this very spot in the desert and had been waiting andexpecting them to come along. He took it as a matter of course that hewould be invited to ride and the moment the door of the car was openedhe scrambled in with quick, nervous movements.
He was a thin faced little man, stoop shouldered as if he had spent hislife bent over books, but there was a charm in his twinkling eyes thatmade friends at once for him, no matter what society he entered. Hewas equally at home with people of wealth as he was with the poorest ofhis friends.
So eager was the old man to be seated, out of the scorching rays of thesun, that he left his bundle lying at the side of the road.
"Your pack!" called Kit, as Matt was about to start the car. "You'veforgotten your pack!"
The man gave her a grateful smile. "That's just like me to leave it.Alicia said I was sure to do just that," he laughed nervously.
He jumped out of the car and quickly recovered his property. "Don'tknow what I would have done if I'd lost it--all my sustenance andbooks."
"Listen to the old chap," whispered Joy in Shirley's ear. "He's aregular highbrow. Hear him talk! 'Sustenance', what does that mean?"
"Why, his food, of course," replied Shirley with a laugh.
"Then why didn't he say so? Isn't the word 'food' polite enough forhim?" giggled Joy.
"I wonder who he is?" Kit was puzzled by the man. He did not belongto the desert, of that she was sure.
As if in answer to her thought, the stranger announced: "I am AntonGillette of Dorsey College. I'm on an exploring expedition."
"A professor!" gasped Joy in a low voice. "He'll spoil all our fun.We'll have to pretend we're clever or something of the sort." This waswhispered in Bet's ear and brought forth a laugh.
"Be yourself, Joy! Don't try to be clever. It might strain you." Betleaned forward eagerly and addressed the old man. "An exploringexpedition! How interesting that sounds. What are you going toexplore? And where?"
"Are you going to find a buried city?" asked Enid excitedly.
"Hardly a buried city in this country," he returned.
"But why? When there were seven cities of Troy and maybe more, whycan't it be possible that there is one buried city here?"
"And maybe we could find a King Tut grave," suggested Shirley.
"That's an idea," said Bet, and the girls joined in the laugh, but theprofessor was serious.
"I don't mind telling you that it is something of that sort that I amafter. I want to find the ruins of an old Indian village and find thegrave of a certain old chief. How did you guess it?"
"We didn't," laughed Kit. "We were just hoping it might be so."
"This old chief was supposed to have been buried with many historicalobjects of the tribe, and it is his grave that I must find. It is allvery interesting--very," nodded the professor.
"There are Indian mounds all over Arizona," said Kit. "I don't see howyou will ever find the right one."
"I have a clue. It may be only an old legend without any foundation oftruth in it, but I don't think so. It was at the scene of an Indianmassacre. A common enough story it is. The white men encroaching onthe Indian lands," began Professor Gillette but Kit interrupted.
"There are thousands of legends like that. They are like the cactus,they grow everywhere in Arizona."
But the old professor was not to be discouraged so easily. "TheIndians killed some white men and then soldiers came and there was amassacre--mostly whites."
"There's nothing unusual about that story, Professor Gillette."
"True. But in this case a princess, the daughter of a chief, cursedher own people for their cruelty. And within a year the tribe at thatvillage died out. Every man of them."
"Why that's the legend of Lost Canyon!" exclaimed Kit excitedly. "Anddoes this princess come back and haunt the canyon, does she appear whenanything crooked is being done around that section?"
"Yes, yes, that's the story. Lost Canyon, do you know where LostCanyon is?" asked the old man with trembling eagerness.
"Lost Canyon was my playground since babyhood. It's like my frontyard. I love it!"
"How wonderful! Then maybe you know this man." He fumbled in hispockets, taking out the contents of all of them, before he found theletter which he handed to Kit. "This is an introduction to a man whomay be very useful to me."
Kit laughed happily as she read the name on the envelope. "Mr. WilliamPatten." Returning the paper to the professor she said, "I should knowthat man well. He's my father!"
"Oh isn't that jolly, Kit!" cried Joy. "Imagine meeting someone who ison the way to see your father! That's a bit of luck, isn't it?"
"Dad will be very glad to help you," continued Kit.
"What a strange coincidence!" remarked the professor glowing withpleasure. His boyish smile offset the formal style that might havebothered the girls. His dark eyes were small and twinkling and he wasso very nearsighted that it was necessary for him to look intently inorder to see anything.
At that moment a loud report startled them. Joy gave a scream offright. "What is it?" she cried excitedly. "Indians!"
"Shooting?" exclaimed the professor, half rising in his seat. "Is it ahold up?" He looked around in all directions. But the desert seemeddevoid of human life.
"It means that we've blown out a tire," smiled Matt as he brought thecar to a stop at the side of the road and got out muttering, "Of allthe ding-busted places to get a flat! Not even a spear of grass forshade and no water hole nearer than Coyote Creek and that's ten milesaway." Matt puffed as he unstrapped the spare tire and prepared tojack up the wheel.
The girls stood around, anxious to make themselves useful, but Mattpaid no attention to their offers of help. He even scowled atProfessor Gillette, and went on without answering him. Matt's face wasred with the effort under the burning sun that scorched the flesh withits blistering rays. It seemed impossible that life could exist inthat burned-out sandy waste.
Bet Baxter had not spoken. She was tremendously interested in thethings she saw around her. Suddenly she gave an exclamation ofsurprise as her foot touched what appeared at first to be alight-colored stone, and saw it move.
"What under the sun is this?" she cried as she stooped over the nowmotionless little creature.
"Oh, that's a horn toad, it won't bother you," laughed Kit. "You'llsee plenty of them around."
"Isn't it pretty!" Bet picked up the little creature between her thumband forefinger gingerly. "Just look at its funny little tail! I neverknew a toad had a tail."
"And look at the thorns all over its body. Isn't it funny?" Enidpoked her finger at the toad, prodding it in the sides.
The toad was motionless now as if dead, only an occasional blinking ofthe eyes showed that it had life.
"If it isn't poisonous, I'd like to take it along for a pet." Betturned toward the car.
"Oh, leave it where it is, Bet. Maybe it wouldn't want to be partedfrom its family," said Shirley in her quiet way.
Kit burst into a peal of laughter. "That's what I call considerate.Its mother mightn't like to have it go out for a ride in an auto withstrange people."
Bet paid no attention to Kit's nonsense. She was fascinated by thisstrange creature, covered with horn-like spines.
But at that moment Matt's voice rang out: "Let's go! And here's hopingwe'll have no more tire trouble before we reach the ranch."
Bet turned to put down the horn toad, then exclaimed excitedly: "Look,Kit, what kind of a bird is that?"
"That's just a road runner. You'll see plenty of them before thesummer is over."
"What a funny name for a bird!" answered Bet.
"You can call it a Chapparal Cock, if that suits your fancy," laughedMatt Larkin.
"I'll do it!" Bet said wit
h a toss of her head. "That name sounds verystylish. And it suits it much better. Look at its lovely blue crest,and its bronze-green body!" The girls gave a little gasp as the largebird, evidently startled by the engine, went off on a run that lookedridiculous in a bird. Aided by its large wings, it made rapid progress.
"I like that bird!" cried Joy with enthusiasm. "I believe it could betaught to dance."
"You can have the job of teaching it," remarked Shirley Williams with ashiver. "I wouldn't want to get a nip from that long bill."
"If you want to know what that bill can do, just get the opinion of therattlesnakes and lizards around here. Those birds are the worstenemies the snakes have. They certainly fade away when Mr. Road Runneris out for a walk. And by the way, Bet, this bird has a third name,it's 'Snake killer'."
But Matt was calling impatiently and the girls finally left theirobservations of desert life and took their seats in the car.
For a few miles Matt sent the machine ahead at a rate which troubledthe girls but finally his impatience wore away and he slowed down tohis ordinary careful driving.
Kit nodded approval and whispered to Bet: "Matt forgot he was driving acar; he thought he was riding a bronc."
"I am greatly relieved," said the professor quietly. "Speed is thecurse of the age. We should take lessons from the Indians."
"That's all you know about Injins, Injins ain't so slow as you mightthink. I've seen 'em with plenty of ginger in 'em. They're only slowwhen there's work to be done." Matt Larkin had made the longest speechthat Kit had ever heard from him at one time. He was not a talkativeman, and rarely addressed anyone.
But that did not shake the professor in his conviction that Indians hadled a quiet, placid existence and should be an example.
"Yes, we have much to learn from the red man," he continued just as ifMatt had not spoken. And if he heard the contemptuous snort from thedriver, he did not let on.
Mile after mile slid by quickly and soon the walls of the ranch housewere visible.
"There it is!" cried Kit, hardly able to sit still. "We're almosthome!"
"At long last!" Joy burst out impatiently. "I had almost given upexpecting it. It's been ages since we left the station."
"But wasn't every minute of it perfect!" Enid Breckenridge wasenjoying the feeling of ownership in the land. Part of this strangecountry was hers, her home. "Didn't you enjoy it all?"
"No, I didn't," Joy answered. "I got so tired of those tallsmoke-stack cactus things that I wanted to scream." She pointed herhand at the towering pillars of the suhuaro, or giant cactus. "And Ihope I'll never have to see a cow again. They're everywhere! Only onething I dislike more, that's cactus."
"Why, Joy Evans, I think they are the most romantic looking objectsI've ever seen. They're wonderful!" exclaimed Bet.
"And as for me, I've taken pictures every time Matt has slowed downenough. That shows what I think of them. I'm enthused overeverything! I've taken six pictures of cattle." Shirley, the quietone, rarely spoke so whole-heartedly over things. She appreciated butseldom expressed her emotions.
Bet had half risen in the auto and craned her neck to catch a glimpseof the ranch buildings, but all they could see for the moment was thehigh wall of sun-dried bricks.
"What's the idea of that wall about a ranch?" she asked. In spite ofBet's lively imagination, she always wanted a reason for everything shesaw. "They don't have Indian raids any more, do they?" Bet's toneindicated that she almost wished they did.
"Oh, I hope not!" cried Joy. "Those fierce-looking Indians that we sawracing toward the station didn't look exactly peaceful. I'm sure Idon't feel so very safe."
"Don't worry, girls, the Indians are tame enough now. But the wallsdate back to the time when they weren't," Kit explained. "When thatwall was built the settlers needed it badly."
"Isn't it romantic!" Bet thrilled as she looked at the old adobe wallfully ten feet high with small porthole openings at intervals. "Andthere are the tiny windows they used to shoot through at the Indians.I'd love to have seen it."
"Oh, Bet, you make me ashamed of you! And you know well enough youwouldn't have wanted to see an Indian raid," sniffed Joycontemptuously. "You're just trying to appear brave and wild."
But there was a look in Bet's eyes that confirmed her remarks. Shelonged for adventure, wild fighting and glorious deeds of valor. Ifshe had been born earlier and been a boy she would have chosen the lifeof a soldier or a pirate. Of that she was very sure.
"And down back of that wall is the canyon, where the Indians hid andthen rushed the ranch before the people inside knew they were there.The old Indian trail runs off over the mountain on the other side ofthe canyon," Kit informed her friends.
"Think of having to live out here in those days when there was so muchdanger! I'm glad I didn't have to," Enid sighed. The memory of herown isolated existence on Campers' Trail through that hard winter wasstill too fresh in her memory. She did not often mention theunpleasantness of her life. Most of it was too bitter.
Eagerly the girls watched for the first sight of the ranch house, butit was not until the car reached the wide gateway that they were ableto glimpse it. It stood far back toward the edge of the cliff and wasso completely surrounded by trees that it was impossible to tell justwhat kind of a house it was. If it had not been for a few windows itmight have been taken for part of the old wall. There was no attemptat ornament, in that adobe structure. The front was bare and withoutimagination. The door was in the center with a stone walk leading toit.
Bet especially felt disappointed. She had planned on a Spanish castleor something equally imposing. A romantic setting for Enid, a gorgeousframe that would bring out all the loveliness of her friend.
Everything was quiet. There was no sign of life.
Matt brought the car to a stand-still, and jumping out, opened thedoors. The girls dismounted and stood there hardly knowing what to do.
Then a Chinese boy opened the door of the house and Bet caught aglimpse beyond him of a great patio, or interior court, full oftropical plants like a hot house.
Here at last was a spot romantic enough to suit her taste. Bet clungto Kit's arm as they went along the stone walk to the door.
"It's perfect, Kit, it's perfect!" she gasped.