Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1923-03-01
CHAPTER VI
lie Yanul.

The Yaqul.
| Toward evening of a lowering De-
cember day, some fifty miles west Of
Forlorn River, horseman rode along
an old, dimly defined trail
This lonely horseman bestrode a
steed of magnificent build, perfectly
white except for a dark bar of color
running down the noble head from
ears to nose. Sweat caked dust
stained the long TANKS. The horse
had been running. He was lean,
gaunt, worn a huge machine of muscle
and bone, beautiful only in head and
name, a weight-carrfer, horse strong
and fierce like the desert that had
bred him.
The rider fitted the horse as he fit
ted the saddle. He was a young man
of exceedingly powerful physique,
lwide-shouldered, long big
legged. His lean face, where 1t was
not red, blistered and peeling. was the
hue of bronze. He had a dark eye, a
falcon gaze, rowing and keen. His
jaw was prominent and set, mastiff-
like; his lips were stern. It was youth
with it's softness not yet quite burned
and hardened away that kept the
whole cast Of his face from being
ruthless.
This ycUng man was Dick Gale, but
not the listless traveller, nor the 1oung-
ing wanderer who, two months before,
had by chance dropped into Casita
The desert had claimed Gale, and had
drawn him into its crucible. The
desert had multiplied weeks into
years. Heat, thirst, hunger, loneli-
ness, toll, fear, ferocity pain-he
knew them all. He had felt them all
the white sun, with it's glazed, coales-
cling, lurid fire; the caked split lips
and rasping, dry-puffed tongue; the
sickening ache in the pit Of his stom-
ache: the insupportable silence, the
empty space, the utter desolation, the
contempt of life; the watch and wait,
the dread of ambush, the swift flight
the fierce pursuit of men wild as
Bedouins and as fleet, the willingness
to deal sudden death, the pain of
poison thorn, the singing tear Of lead
through flesh; and that strange para
dox of the burning desert, the cold at
night, the piercing Icy wind, the dew
that penetrated to the marrow, the
numbing desert cold Of the dawn
Ladd's prophecy Of trouble on the
border had been mild compared to
what had become the actuality. With
rebel occupancy of the garrison at
Casita, outlaws, bandits, raiders in
Many a dark-skinned raider bestrode
one of Belongs fast horses; and, in
deed, all except his selected white
thoroughbreds had been stolen. So
the job of the rangers had become
more than patrclling of the bound-
airy line to keep japanese and Chinese
from being Struggled into the United
States.
On this December afternoon the
three rangers, as often, were separ-
ated. Lash was far to the westward
Of Sonoyta, somewhere along Canine
del Diablo that terrible Devils road
where many desert wayfarers had per-
ished. Ladd had long been overdue
in a prearranged meeting with Gale
The fact that Ladd had not shown up
miles west Of the Papago we'll was
significant.
Gale dismounted to lead his horse,
to go forward more slowly. He had
ridden sixty miles since morning, and
he was tired, and not entirely healed
wound in his hip made one leg drag
little. "A mile up the arroyo, near it's
head, lay the Papago well. The need
Of water for his horse entailed a risk
that otherwise he could have avoided.
The well was on Mexican soil. Gale
distinguished faint light Pickering
through the thin, sharp foliage. Camp
ers were at the we'll and, whoever
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