Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1923-05-24

4
i nature of his effort, he would have said
he had climbed mile. The village lay
/ beneath him, with its new adobe struc-
lures and tents and buildings in bright
contrast with the older habitations. He
saw the green alfalfa fields, and Beld-
ing's white horses, looking very small
and motiOnIess. He pleased himself
by imagining he could pick out Blan-
co Sol. Then his gaze swept on to the
river.
Indeed, he realized now why some one
/ had named it Forlorn river. Even at
this season when it was full of water
it had a forlorn aspect. It was doomed
never to mingle with the waters of the
Gulf It wound away down the valley,
growing wider and shallower, en-
croacnlng more and more on the gray
flats, until it disappeared on its sad
journey toward Sonoyta. That vast
shimmering, sun-governed waste recog-
nized its life only at this flood season,
and was already with parched tongue
and insatiate fire licking and burning
up It's futile waters.
Yaqui put a hand on Gales knee.
1t was bronzed, scared, powerful
1 hand, always eloquent Of meaning.
The Indian was listening. His bent
head, his strange dilating eyes, his
rigid form, and that close-pressing
hand, how these brought back to Gale
the terrible lonely night hours on the
lava!
/ sWhat do you hear, Yaqui?" asked
Gale. He laughed little at the mood
that had come over him. But the
sound of his voice did not break the
i spell. He did not want to speak
/ again. He yielded to Yaqui's subtle
nameless influence. He listened him
self, heard nothing but the scream Of
i an eagle. Often he wondered if the
Indian could hear things that made no
sound. Yaqui was beyond understands
ing.
Whatever the Indian had listened
to or for, presently he satisfied him
4 self, and, with grunt that might
! mean anything, he ross and turned
/ away from the rim. Gale followed
i TESI6us
saw that the great cliff they had
/ climbed was only a stairway up to
the huge looming dark bulk Of the
/ plateau above.
Suddenly he again heard the dull
roar of falling water. It seemed to
have cleared itself of muf1ed vibra-
| lions. Yaqui mounted a little ridge
/ and halted. The next instant Gale
stood above a bottomless cleft into
which q white stream leaped His as
founded gaze swept backward along
this narrow swift stream to its nd in
dark, round, Loiling pool. It was a
huge spring, a bubbling well, the OUT
cropping of an underground river
coming down from the vast plateau
above.
Yaqui had brought Gale to the
source Of Forlorn river.
Flashing thoughts in Gales mind
were no swifter than the thrills that
ran over him. He would stake out q
claim here and never be cheated out
of it. bitches on the benches and
troughs on the steep walls would car
ry water down to the valley. Ben
Chase had built great dam which
would be useless If Gale chose to turn
Forlorn river from its natural course.
The fountain head of that mysterious
desert river belonged to him.
His eagerness, his mounting passion.
was checked by Yaqui's unusual ac-
ton. The Indian showed wonder,
hesitation, even reluctance. His
strange eyes surveyed this boiling well
as If they could not believe the sight
they saw. Gale OWNED instantly that
Yaqui had never before seen the
source of Forlorn river. If he had
ever assembled to this plateau, prob
ably it had been to some other part,
| for the water was new to him. He
stood gazing aloft at peaks, at lower
rampants of the mountain, and at
nearer landmarks Of prominence.
Yaqui seemed at fault. He was not
sure of his location.