Warren H. Miller

“ What a thing is puny man! Armed with the unlimited strength of dynamite, one man had done all this; destroyed at a blow all living things that flourished here, upset the huge yet delicate balance of [248] Nature, driven into a wandering exile a once happy people.
A great sob rose in Sid’s throat as what all this meant came over him in an overwhelming wave of emotion. What Scotty might have done in leading here the slow advance of civilization, that villain Vasquez had brought about in one mad moment of callous cupidity. Sid ground his teeth in helpless rage. ”

“ Face to face with the reality, with these vast fields of scowling lava, with the dry and level plains of endless creosote bushes, with these parched and stunted bisangas, choyas, and saguarros, his dream shriveled and faded. A mine! Here, in all this five hundred square miles of barren lava! A railroad to it! How cross the grim ranges of Pinacate, looming up now not twenty miles away to the west? It all seemed so hopeless! It would take a far sterner and more determined man than he to push through such a project!
But Sid sang happily as they rode toward Cerro Colorado. ”

“ Sid held his breath in wonderment, to see the red bath of color spread down the flanks of that huge and imposing presence, widening and broadening its base with color, bringing out the vivid green posts of [83] saguarros, the dark greens of creosote, and the white patches of barrel cactus wrapped in their dense mantles of thorns. They were in the heart of the giant cactus country now. The floor of the desert was dotted all over with them. Everywhere their weird candelabra shapes stood like sentinels, upholding bent and contorted arms, notes of bright green on a gray and pale green waste. ”

“ Nature has a grim way of playing tricks that upset our best schemes—cruel tricks, sometimes. For, hardly had the Mexican riders gotten well through the gap with yells of delight as they followed the trail into that beautiful desert garden, when, from up on the high mountain flanks behind Big John’s position, came a sudden rolling of stones bounding down the hill. The Mexicans all halted and looked up, shouting to each other eagerly. Big John looked around inquiringly, and Hano gazed with an expression of anguish in his black eyes. ”

“ Presently Blaze let out a volleying bray and raced on up the rocks toward the ridge. There came a clatter of rolling stones, and Sid looked up to see a huge ram, followed by two ewes, silhouetted for [101] an instant against the blue skyline. Immense curled horns encircled the big sheep’s head. For a moment he stopped and looked back, his superb head poised grandly, his horns branching out in regular symmetrical spirals, his white ears standing out like thumbs in front of the horns and his white nose, cleft with the black mouth and nostril lines, a circle of white against his brown neck. ”

“ Presently there emerged two stalwart bucks, bearing the carcass of the ram that Sid had seen shot before his eyes that morning. The three arrows that still stuck in his side identified him for Sid. In addition its body was now gayly decorated with prayer sticks and symbolic feathers signifying thankful remembrance to the Great Mystery who had given them this food. All the village turned out rejoicing at the hunters’ song. From the grass huts came squealing children, laughing girls, and lithe young men, all sunburned black as negroes which gave Sid the idea that most of them had been born here. ”

“ Big John was Blaze’s idol; the one human who knew everything and always gave him the most glorious times of his life. When hurt before, it had been always Big John, his man-partner of their hunts who, strong and tender, had somehow made his hurts come well. Sid, as Little Master was all right, but Blaze hardly gave him a thought now, for this trouble was too terrible and he must find Big John! Trembling all over and yelping every time the arrow stub struck against a passing bush, Blaze struggled on down the hill. ”

“ Blaze’s progress grew slower and slower. At times he would stop and howl dismally for some one to come and help him. Then, after a grim and expectant period of waiting, he would crawl on again, floundering and tumbling down the steep flanks of the mountain. In time he reached the plain, where they had started up after the ram. Here was Sid’s pinto, and the animal whinnied eagerly for he was already thirsty and weary of waiting for their return. Blaze’s nose led him back to the tracks of the main party, where the familiar scent of Big John’s white mustang at last smote his nostrils. ”

“ To match it, you had to go back two hundred years to the time when religion was everything in an Indian’s life, when warfare was an incentive to chivalry similar to our own warfare of the middle ages; when there were no white men to set one tribe against another, to teach them to scalp one another by offering a bounty for the hair of a fellow red man, or to sell them whisky and weapons far more deadly than any they naturally used.
Sid felt himself playing traitor to his best instincts when he thought of what the coming of Scotty and Big John would mean to these people. ”

“ Sid knew that he was whispering the name of the Great Mystery into his son’s ear, the very first word of the human voice that the newborn Indian babe hears. It was an old, old ritual of ancient Indian custom.
Then: “Farewell, little one!” he heard Hano’s anguished tones murmur as he passed the child over to its mother. The girl started back and looked at him astounded, then at Sid, and finally she turned to the chief, her eyes dark pools of questioning.
“It must be, my daughter,” said Honanta. “My son has erred grievously. It is for the old men to decide.” ”

“ More than many, many white men could eat, they shot! Then rose up your son, Hano, out of ambush and cursed them, as I too would have done. He fired my rifle at them, killing many horses. When the shells were all gone he left us. That is all I know.”
“Who does know what became of Hano, then, Niltci?” inquired Sid eagerly.
The Navaho pointed to the silent figure of Big John.
“Hai!” breathed Honanta’s deep voice. “He must live! I must know what has happened to my son! If he died, it was as a great chief should die, for his people. ”

“ A murderer, with them, might be pardoned, if he could show sufficient cause, but a liar was always summarily dealt with, for no one in the tribe felt safe with him who spoke with a forked tongue.
“I have a friend,” answered Sid, after a pause in which Honanta stood with his eyes searching his to their depths, “I came with him. His reason for visiting Pinacate is not mine to tell you.”
The chief smiled slightly. “It is good. Friendship of man for man is our highest test of character. He who betrays a friend, even under torture, is unworthy. ”

“ Vasquez smiled—a practical declaration of ownership—a maddening, infuriating smile; the superior smile of the older man toward youth, which seems to question the right of the young man to busy himself with anything at all but the toys of childhood. Sid found it particularly unbearable. He had been smiled at that way before, when some staid and sophisticated professor had smiled indulgently at him over some of his own theories in Indian ethnology, theories which Sid propounded with all the fire of his youthful enthusiasm and conviction. ”

“ It was all too cruel to sense at first; too great an irony of fate for the human mind to comprehend. But, after the first interval of stupefaction, Sid understood what had happened. That explosion had opened a fissure in the lava bottom of the tank—and Red Mesa was slowly bleeding to death! A rush to the rim of the basin confirmed it. There, down along one edge of the apron, a thin trickle of water was flowing silent, unceasingly sapping away the life blood of his ideal Indian community, giving their precious indispensable water to those thirsty sands of the desert drinking it up far below! ”

“ I stand here—ashamed, Honanta—ashamed of my race!”
“Take your mine! It is always so when the white man finds gold! All this must die! The red man must go!”
“No!” barked Scotty wildly through his tears. “No, chief! You won’t have to go! Concrete can fix it! As soon as the water is gone we shall get at the crack and seal it. We’ll mend the basin and then leave you in peace forever. I promise it, here and now! Never, never shall any mention of your mine cross my lips!”
“My son, many, many rains it took to fill that tank! ”

“ Red Mesa was really a valley then, inclosed by two giant walls [117] and shut off from below by that ancient lava apron! And it was inhabited by a band of Apache!
That much Sid’s sense of reasoning had told him before the squeals of children and the cries of squaws and shouts of men came to his ears. People were all around him now, exclaiming in Apache, every word of which he understood. Then the deep voice of some one in authority came toward them and a guttural command to untie him was given. The bandanna was at once whisked from Sid’s eyes. ”

“ Every inch of soil was being cultivated. As it was the dry season, great woolly clouds of lavender and rose, empty of rain, were flying across high over the red ramparts in the blue sky. A few squaws were irrigating the higher plants, carrying up large jugs of water from the pond.
A little further on he came to a deep gorge, cleft in the high rock, and Sid stopped, his heart beating swiftly. Here was the mine described on that Red Mesa plaque! It ran like a fissure through the granite, a wide seam of black lava trap, and with it was a vein of rich, dark ore. ”

“ Peace or war with this chief, the Navaho boy faced him undaunted and Niltci was going to defend that place to the last! Below him was the little rocky lair where lay Big John, silent, face downward.
The Apache raised his hand in the peace sign. “Navaho, thou art a brave man! He that risks his life for a friend!” he dropped his arm significantly as if to say that no higher test of character existed. “Come; my young men pursue them, and none shall escape. Let us take this white man where his wounds can be cared for, my brother.”
Just at that instant Sid came around the rocks about the lava lair. ”

“ Sid followed him, once the heavy bulk of the cowman had left the pole on the other side. Below him dropped away an endless shadowy chasm, with the tiny pines and firs of the [14] valley visible hot in the sunlight far below. On both sides towered above him the huge smooth walls of the chimney made by the pinnacle and its neighbors. Sid cast a mere glance at the prospect below, and then climbed over swiftly and joined Big John in the black depths of the tunnel.
It was some time before their eyes became accustomed to the dim light. Up and up inside the living rock the narrow fissure climbed. ”

“ Sid listened, waiting respectfully while the chief paused again, sunk in reverie. As an ethnologist he was learning the true inwardness of the Indian’s soul from a red man’s own lips. For some reason Honanta seemed to have laid hold upon his sympathy and he now poured it all out as to the first white man who really comprehended the fundamentals of that marvelous Indian creed now lost to mankind forever. ”

“ There is no such speed as an old Tom can put on when in a tight place! He seemed literally to fly through the air, Blaze and Ruler a jump or two behind him. Niltci gave up the chase and snatched at the bridle of his pony as that faithful creature raced up after him. Scotty put spurs to the mare and galloped off in hot pursuit. ”

“ Sid laughed gayly. There was no quenching the giant Montanian’s humor so long as the breath of life existed in him! “Guess you’re better, all right!” he answered, relieved.
“Whar’s my dear friend, Mister Spigotty?” inquired Big John with elaborate sarcasm. “Last I seen of him, he was fixin’ to turn loose a machine-gun onto me.”
“We’re still worrying about him, John,” replied Sid seriously. “He got away. The chief’s arrow took him just as he was about to pull trigger on you, but I think that loose serapé he wore saved him. An arrow just loses its punch in it. ”

“ Blaze bawled out in pain, then sprawled out flat, with all four of his furry paws spread out like woolly broom handles, while his pained eyes looked up piteously to Sid. An arrow transfixed him above his shoulders. The dog seemed paralyzed as Sid dropped beside him, hot anger welling up in his heart. A hurt to one’s own person does not cause a whiter rage than one [106] done to a dumb pet! Sid peered about him, seeking with glittering eye for something to fire at. Beside him Blaze moaned, sighed deeply, and then fell over stiffly, the arrow sticking in the rock and partly supporting him. ”

“ Gambel’s quail ran through the bushes in droves and caused many a chase and much popping of the small six-shooters that the boys carried. An occasional road runner darted through the creosotes, long-legged and long-tailed. Desert wrens sang from the white choyas where their nests lay adroitly concealed from predatory hawks. It was high noon before the Growler mountains were reached. They rose abruptly out of the plain, so very steep and sudden that Scotty was convinced that the foothills that properly belong to all mountains must lay [85] buried in the sand underneath the horses’ hoofs. ”

“ Many a miner’s stampede has been started on less.
As the trail reached the foothills they drew rein and looked back. Far across the plain that little knot of horsemen was still coming on in the tireless lope of the Indian pony. Give them twenty miles of it and their own horses would be run off their feet!
“Here’s where we’ve got to step light and easy, old-timer!” grinned Sid. “The Indians will be in their own country in these hills, and they know every short cut to head us off. I wish Big John and Niltci were here.”
Scotty growled assent abstractedly as they rode up a bare and rocky arroyo. ”

“ No man in his senses would attempt to climb over that mountain in the dark through all its bristly cactus and choyas, Sid reflected. The only practicable route would be along its base, where the sand would deaden hoofbeats and a man could approach unseen. ”

“ Scotty thinks he’s a millionaire already. He talks about buying the tribe a great reservation somewhere, as if Honanta’d agree even to that. What he wants is just peace—and isolation. Nowhere else would his people be free from corruption by every white rapscallion who roams the state. ”

“ Next morning as he was led from the lodge, a notable change in the village greeted him. A high Sun Dance pole had been erected during the night, with a cross bar secured near its top. From the bar dangled two effigies; the figure of a man and of a mountain sheep. Sid recognized the symbol of it. The figure represented Honanta, dead but for the intervention of the Great Mystery in the person of that white officer who had spared his mother. The mountain sheep represented man’s physical life, his principal means of sustenance, the gift of Mother Earth, replacing the buffalo of plains ceremonies. ”

“ Niltci and Big John unlimbered their rifles and climbed to a vantage point on the low rocky spur jutting out to the east of the main range.
They were not many minutes too soon! Over the waste of sand dunes to the north a small white cavalcade was toiling slowly along toward them. The guerrillas, about a dozen of them, they noted, were riding two by two. They were clad in white, with huge white sombreros on head and the shining [184] bands of cartridge belts crossing their chests at a slant. Over their backs jutted up the slender muzzles of Mausers. ”