Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1895-12-18
THE MILK WHITE DOE

ears of the skilled huntsman might hear
1t.
It came from hundreds of tiny hoofs,
muffled by the grass In the mountain
park.
"Antelopei"
Together we lay face downward,
and my Indian guide, with our long
rifles at easy rest, and awaited the CON-
ing of the band 1t dashed over hogs
back and into full view, wildly leap
ing, struggling, undnlating mass Of rcd
dish brown, white tufted bodies stretched
to the fullest speed
Nervous? Yes, for in moment more
the band would pass us within easy
range.
We lay with forefngers on the trig
gers as the timid animals, wild with
fear, SKINNED along as if waited by the
spirit of the wind Now they arc direct
ly opposite We will never have such
another shot,
Onward they dash and pass so closely
by that it seems we can hear their heart
beats. Their great. liquid eyes are wild
with terror.
Another moment and the herd has
swept by us; only the hindmost are in
view Now they are out of hearing and
presently are lost to sight.
Absolute silence, save for tho rustic
Of the brown grass as the cooling au-
tumn wind stirs it.
Not shot was fired. My finger was
upon the trigger, my arm certain, but
lacked the power even for the gentle
pressure necessary to send q bullet
straight into the herd was under a
spell.
I looked at Pablo. His dark face
seemed almost pale; his eyes betrayed
excitement, not the excitement Of anger
or fear, but of tender sympathy.
The same power that had staid my
finger when it would have pressed the
trigger had like effect upon him.
"Senor," he said, sit is the milk
white doe that none may slay.
It was overpowering curiosity that
had rendered my forefinger infexible,
for at the head Of the band was the
most beautiful animal had ever seen
O milk white doe. She seemed fleeter,
more timid and Of more graceful con-
tour than any Of the herd. She was the
perfection Of animal grace and beauty.
fancied I heard n SOFT sad moan as
she passed before the muzzle of my rifle.
I was lost briefly in pathetic contem
plation, and the herd was gone.
Come, Pablo, it is almost dusk, but
we must follow. Come, stir yourself,
you unenthusiastic son Of Montczuma.
and let us be gone.
"SenOr, said Pablo, in his calm and
imperturbable manner, yet with sol
emn impressiveness, sit is death to all
who follow the milk white doe"
Nonsense; I-must have her Let us
follow quick. "
Have patience, senior, and tonight
when we smoke by the campfire 1 will
tell You the legend of the milk white
doe. "
And this is the legend he told me:
Before the white man knew there was
q western continent, before the Span
iards came, even before the reign of tho
ancient Quetzalcoatl, lord Of the Seven
Caves of Navatlaques and king of the
Seven Nations, out of which arose the
splendor of the Montezuman empire, the
powerful tribes lived in the north. They
were as the sands of the shore washed
by the great ocean of the rising sun, and
the numbers of their arrows were great
er than the twigs in the forest.
Their queen was Maxtella.
Her skin was as white as the snow on
yonder mountain peak. her lips were as
scarlet as the flaming loco blossom, her
eyes were as blue as the chalchuites in
the Minas de las Perdidas, and from
their liquid depths beamed truth and
purity Of soul
She was virgin queen. Her courtiers
wooed her in vain. The richest Of them
all laid his wealth of chalchuites and
beautiful shells at her feet. The might
lest hunter brought her trophies of the
chase To all she spoke words Of wis
dom and beauty, but her love was for
no one man; it was for all her people.
Her virtue and her beauty were the mar
vels Of those days.
Her counselors were wise beyond their
generation. Many things they knew that
were unknown to the subjects of Queen
Maxtella They knew of the eastern
ocean, Of u great country beyond tc
which their ancestors had gone years be
fore.
The northern hordes were at peace.
So powerful were they that the tribes in
the south did not dare to make war with
then, nor would the queen suffer her
subjects to make war upon those weaker
hordes who dwelt in rocks and caves,
high up in the cliffs that bordered Oh
tie green canyons. There was vassal
chief, Azul. of lowly birth and evil
ways. He saw the beautiful Maxtella,
and the sight Of her touched his black
heart He loved Maxtella not for her
virtue nor her wisdom. He loved her
that he might rule the land, and that
from his blood and hers might come
race Of savage kings, and that the north