Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1923-04-05

not in evidence. His voice was
harsh.
Gales eyes, keen as they were, were
last of the 4argers to see tiny needle
points of light just family perceptible
in the blackness.
"Laddyl CampfresY he asked,
quickly.
Shores you're born, my boy"
"How many?"
Laid did not reply; but Yaqui held
up his hand, his fingers wide. Five
campfres! A strong force C rebels
or raiders or some other desert troop
was camping at Coyote tanks.
Yaqui sat his horse for a moment
motionless as stone, his dark face i'm
mutable and impassive. Then he
stretched his right arm in the direc-
tion of No Name mountains, now los
ing their last faint traces of the after
glow, and he shook his head. He
made the same impressive gesture
toward the Sonoyta oasis with the
same somber negation
Thereupon he turned Diablo's head
to the south and started down the
slope. His manner had been decisive
even stern. Lash did not question it,
nor did Laid. Both rangers hesitated,
however. and showed a strange, almost
sullen reluctance which Gale had
never seen in them before, Raiders
were one thing, Rojas was another;
Canine del Diablo still another; but
that vast and desolate and unwatered
waste of cactus and lava, the Sonora
desert, might appall the stoutest
heart. Gale felt his own sink-felt
himself finch.
"Oh, where is he going?" cried Mer-
cedes. Her poignant voice seemed
to break a SPELL
ashore, lady, Yaqui's goin' home, .
replied Laid gently. "An' considerin'
our troubles, / reckon we ought to
thank God he knows the way
They mounted and rode down the
slope toward the darkening south.
Not until night travel was obstruct-
ed by wall Of cactus did the Indian
halt to make a dry camp. Water and
grass for the horses and fire to cook
by were not to be had. Mercedes bore
up surprisingly; but she fell asleep
almost the instant her thirst had been
allayed. Thorne laid her upon a blan-
ket and covered her. The men ate
and drank Gale lay down weary of
limb and eye. He heard the soft
thump of hoofs, the sough of wind in
the cactus-then no more.
Day dawned with the fugitives in
the saddle A picketed wall of cac-
tus hedged them in, yet the Yaqui
made a tortuous path, that, zigzag as
1t might, in the main always headed
south.
The Yaqui, if not at fault, was yet
uncertain. His falcon eyes searched
and roved, and became fixed at length
at the southwest, and toward this he
turned his horse The great, f1uted
saguaros, fifty, sixt. feet high, raised
columnal forms, and their branching
limbs and curving lines added a grace
to the desert. 1t was the low-bushed
cactus that made the toll and pain of
travel. Yet these thorny forms were
beautiful.
In the basins between the ridges, to
right and left along the floor of low
plains the mirage glistened, wavered
faded, vanished-lakes and trees and
clouds, Inverted mountains hung
suspended in the lilac air and faint
tracery of white-walled cities.
At noon Yaqui halted the cavalcade.
He had selected field Of bisnagi cac-
tus for the place OF rest. Presently
his reason became obvious. Witt long
heavy knife he cut off. the tops of
these barrel-shaped plants. He
scooped out soft pulp, and with stone
and hand then began to pound the
deeper pulp into a juicy mass. When
he threw this out there was little
water left, sweet, cold water which
man and horse shared eagerly. Thus
he made even the deserts ffercest
growths minister to their needs.
But he did not halt long. Miles of
gray-green 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 clung 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 Laid, who
took the girl with him on Torres
broad back. The middle of the after