Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1923-01-19

deeper pulp into a juicy mass. wnen
he threw this out there was a little
water left, sweet, cold water which
man and horse shared eagerly. Thus
he made even the deserts fiercest
growths minister to their needs.
But he did not halt long. Miles of
spiked walls lay between
him and that line Of ragged, red lava
which manifestly he must reach be
fore dark. The travel became faster,
straighter. And the, glistening thorns
clutched and chung to leather and
cloth and flesh. The horses reared,
snorted, baked, leaped-but they
were sent on. Only Blanco Sol, the
patient. the plodding, the indomitable,
needed no goad or spur. Mercedes
reeled in her saddle. Thorne babe
her drink, bathed her face, supported
her. and then gave way to Ladd, who
took the girl with him On Torres
broad back. The middle of the after
noon saw Thorne reeling in his saddle,
and then, wherever possible, Gales
powerful arm lent him strength to
hold his seat.
The fugitives were entering a desc
late. burned-out world. The waste
of sand began TO yield to cinders.
The horses sank to their fetlocks as
they toiled on. A fine, choking dust
blew back from the leaders. and men
coughed and horses snorted. But the
sun was now behind the hills. In be
tween ran the stream of lava. IT
was broken, sharp, dull rust color, full
of cracks and caves and crevices, and
everywhere upon its jagged surface
grew the white-thorned choya.
, Again twilight encompassed the
travellers. But there was still light
enough for Gale to see the CONSTRUCTED
passage open into a wide, deep space
where the dull color was relieved by
the gray of gnarled and dwarfed mes
quite. Blanco Sol, geenest of scent,
whistled his welcome herald of water.
The other horses answered, quickened
their gait. Gale smelled 1t, too, sweet,
cool, damp on the dry air.
Yaqui turned the corner of a pocket
In the lava wall. The file of white
horses rounded the corner after him.
And Gale, coming last, saw the pale,
glancing CLEAN of a pool of water
beautiful in the twilight.
Next day the Yaqui's relentless
driving demand on the horses was no
longer in evidence. He lost no time,
but he did not hasten, His course
wound between low cinder dunes
which limited their view of the sur
rounding country. These dunes finally
sank down to a black floor as hard as
flint, with tongues of ava to the left,
and to the right the slow descent into
the cactus plain. Yaqui was now
travelling due west. 1t was Gales
idea that the Indian was skirting the
first sharp-toothed slope of a vast vol
canic plateau which formed the west
ern half of the Sonora desert and ex-
tended to the Gulf Of California.
Travel was slow, but not ~eXhausting
for rider or beast.
Thirty miles of easy stages brought
the fugitives to another waterhole, a
little round pocket under the heaved-
up edge of lava. There was spare,
short, bleached grass for the horses,
but no wood for a fire. This night
there were question and reply, con-
lecture, doubt, opinion and conviction
expressed by the men of the party.
But the Indian, who alone could have
told where they were, where they
were going, what chance they had to
escape, maintained his stoical silence.
Gale took the early watch, Ladd the
midnight one, and Lash that of the
morning. The day broke rosy, glori-
Gus, cold as ice. Action was neces-
sary to make useful benumbed hands
and feet. Mercedes was fed while yet
wrapped in blankets.
1t was a significant index to the
days travel that Yaqui should keep
a blanket from the pack and tear it
into strips to bind the legs of the
horses. 1t meant the dreaded choya