The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista
"They'll have a great feast here when we leave withwhat we want," said Bill Breakstone. "They're notinviting creatures, but I'm sorry for 'em sometimes, theyseem so eternally hungry."
After the task was finished, three went back for thehorses to carry their food supply, and Phil was left toguard it. He was tired now, and he sat down on theground with his rifle across his knee. The moon cameout more brightly, and he saw well across the prairie.The slender, shadowy forms there increased in numbers, and they whined with eagerness, but the boy did not havethe slightest fear. Nevertheless, he was glad they werenot the great timber wolves of the North. That wouldhave been another matter. At last he took a piece of thebuffalo that his comrades and he would not use and flungit as far as he could upon the prairie.
There was a rush of feet, a confused snarling andfighting, and then a long death howl. In the rush some wolfhad been bitten, and, at the sight of the blood, the othershad leaped upon him and devoured him.
Phil, who understood the sounds, shuddered. He hadnot meant to cause cannibalism, and he was glad whenhis comrades returned with the horses. They spent twodays jerking the buffalo meat, as best they could in thetime and under the conditions, and they soon found theprecaution one of great wisdom, as they did not see anymore game, and, on the second day afterward, entered aregion of sand. The buffalo grass disappeared entirely, and there was nothing to sustain life. This was genuinedesert, and it rolled before them in swells like the grassyprairie.
The four, after going a mile or so over the hot sand, stopped and regarded the gloomy waste with someapprehension. It seemed to stretch to infinity. They did notsee a single stalk or blade of vegetation, and the sandlooked so fine, or of such small grain, to Phil that hedismounted, picked up a handful of it, and threw it intothe air. The sand seemingly did not fall back, butdisappeared like white smoke. He tried it a second and athird time, with the same result in each case.
"It's not sand," he said, "it's just dust."
"Dust or sand," said Bill Breakstone, "we must rushour way through it, and I'm thinking that we've got tomake every drop of water we have in the bags last as longas possible."
They rode on for several hours, and the very softnessof the sand made the going the worst that they had everencountered. The feet of the horses sank deep in it, andthey began to pant with weariness, but there was norelief. The vertical sun blazed down with a fiery splendorthat Phil hitherto would have believed impossible. Thewhole earth shimmered in the red glare, and the raysseemed to penetrate. All of them had broad brimmedhats, and they protected their eyes as much as possible.The weariness of the horses became so great that afterawhile the riders dismounted and walked by the side ofthem. Two hours of this, and they stopped in order thatBreakstone might take the direction with a little compassthat he carried in a brass box about two inches indiameter. He had made the others buy the same kind, butthey had not yet used them.
"This is the best kind of compass to put in your baggageon such a trip as this," he said, "and it says thatwe re going straight on in the way we want to go. Comeboys, the more sand we pass the less we have in front of us."
They staggered bravely on, but the glare seemed togrow. The whole sky was like a hot, brassy cover thatheld them prisoners below. It scarcely seemed possibleto Phil that trees, green grass, and running water had everexisted anywhere. A light wind arose, but, unlike otherwinds that cool, this wind merely sent the heat againsttheir faces in streams and currents that were hotter thanever. It also whirled the fine sand over them in blindingshowers. Acting on the advice of Breakstone, they drewup their horses in a little circle, and stood in the centershielding their eyes with their hands. Peering over hishorse's back, Phil saw hills of sand four or five feet highpicked up and carried away, while hills equally high wereformed elsewhere. Ridges disappeared, and new ridgeswere formed. The wind blew for about two hours, andthen the four, covered with sand, resumed their marchnoting with joy that the sun was now sinking and the heatdecreasing. The very first shadows brought relief, butthe greatest solace was to the eye. Despite the protectionof hand and hat-brims, they were so burnt by the sandand glare that it was a pain to see. Yet the four were soweary of mind and body that they said nothing, as theytrudged on until the edge of the sun cut into the westernplain on the horizon. Phil had never before seen such asun. He had not believed it could be so big, so glaring, and so hot. He was so glad now that the earth wasrevolving away from it that he raised his clenched handand shook his fist in its very eye.
"Good-by to you," he exclaimed. "And I was neverbefore so glad to see you go!"
Phil spoke in such deadly earnest that Bill Breakstone, despite his aching muscles and burning throat, broke into laughter.
"You talk as you feel, Phil," he said, "but it's nogood to threaten the sun. It's just gone for a little while, and it will be back again to-morrow as bright and hot asever."
"But while it iss gone we will be glad," said Arenberg.
Down dropped the shadows, deeper and deeper, anda delicious coolness stole over the earth. It was like adew on their hot eyeballs, and the pain there went swiftlyaway. A light wind blew, and they took the fresh air inlong, deep breaths. They had been old three or fourhours ago, now they were young again. The horses, feeling the same influence, raised their lowered heads andwalked more briskly.
The shadows merged into the night, and now it wasactually cold. But they went on an hour or more inorder to find a suitable place for a camp. They chose atlast a hollow just beyond a ridge of sand that seemedmore solid than usual. On the slope grew a huge cactuswith giant arms, the first that they had seen in a longtime.
"Here we rest," said Bill Breakstone. "What morecould a man ask? Plenty of sand for all to sleep on. Nocrowding. Regular king's palace. Water in the water-bags, and firewood ready for us."
"Firewood," said John Bedford. "I fail to see it."
Breakstone pointed scornfully to the huge cactus.
"There it is, a whole forest of it," he said. "Webreak down that cactus, which is old and dry, and itburns like powder. But it will burn long enough to boilour coffee, which we need."
But they took a good drink of water first, and gaveanother to every one of the horses. Then they choppeddown the giant cactus and cut it into lengths. AsBreakstone had said, it burned with a light flame and wasrapidly consumed, leaving nothing but thin ashes. But theywere able to boil their coffee, which refreshed them evenmore than the food, and then they lay on their blankets, taking a deep, long rest. The contrast between night andday was extraordinary. The sun seemed to have takenall heat with it, and the wind blew. They could put oncoats again, draw blankets over their bodies, and getready for delicious sleep. They knew that the sun withall its terrors would come back the next day, but theyresolved to enjoy the night and its coolness to the full.
The wind rose, and dust and sand were blown acrossthe plain, but it passed over the heads of the four wholay in the narrow dip between the swells, and they soonfell into a sleep that built up brain and muscle anew forthe next day's struggle.
CHAPTER XX
THE SILVER CUP
They awoke at the coming dawn, which began swiftlyto drive away the coolness of the night, and, using what was left of the giant cactus, they boiledcoffee and heated their food again. This was a brieftask, but by the time it was finished the whole world wasenveloped once more in a reddish glare. All that daythey advanced, alternately riding and walking through anabsolutely desolate land. The single cactus that theyhad burned loomed in Phil's memory like a forest. Thewater was doled out with yet more sparingness, and, afew minutes after they drank it, throat, tongue, and lipsbegan to feel as parched as ever.
Phil did not see a living thing besides themselves.No rattlesnake, no lizard, no scorpion dwelled in thisburning sand. Two or three of the horses began to showsigns of weakness.
"If we only had a tent to shelter us from this awfulglare," said Breakstone, "we could camp for the day, andthen travel at night, but it will be worse standing stillthan going on. And get on we must. The horses havehad no food, and they cannot stand it much longer."
They slept on the sand that night until a little pasttwelve o'clock, and then, to save time, resumed the marchonce more. The air was cool and pleasant at that time, but the desert looked infinitely weird and menacing underthe starlight. The next day they entered upon a regionof harder sand and in one or two places found a patch ofscanty herbage, upon which the horses fed eagerly, butthere was not a sign of water to ward off the new andformidable danger that was threatening them, as thecanteens and water-bags were now almost empty.
"To-morrow they will be empty," said Bill Breakstone.
His dismal prophecy came true. At noon of thefollowing day the last drop was gone, and John and Phillooked at each other in dismay. But Bill Breakstonewas a man of infinite resource.
"I mean to find water before night," he said."Not any of your Mississippis or Missouris, nor even abeautiful creek or brook, not anything flowing or prettyto the eye, but water all the same. You just wait andsee."
He spoke with great emphasis and confidence, but theothers were too much depressed to believe. Nevertheless,Bill Breakstone was watching the ground critically. Henoticed that the depressions between the swells haddeepened, and that the whole surface seemed to have ageneral downward slope. Toward the twilight they cameto a deeper depression than any that they had seen before.Two or three slender trees, almost leafless grew in it.The trees themselves seemed to cry aloud: "I thirst! Ithirst!" But Bill Breakstone was all cheeriness.
"Here is our water!" he cried briskly. "Get ready all!"
He himself took out a stout shovel from the baggageon his horse, and began to dig, with great vigor, in thelowest part of the bowl.
"I see," said Phil, "you're going to dig a well."
"I am, and you're going to help me do it, too."
"But will we find anything at the bottom of it?"
"We will. Many a man has died of thirst in thedesert, with plenty of water not twenty feet away. Somemen are born without brains, Phil. Others have brains, but never use them, but I am egotistical enough to thinkthat I have some brains, at least, and some will andcapacity to use them. Now I've thrown up a pretty goodpile of sand there, and I'm growing tired. You take thatshovel and see what you can do, but make it a wide hole.You don't want a ton of sand caving in on you."
Phil took the shovel and worked with energy. Johnand Arenberg with tin cups also leaped down into thehole and helped as much as they could. As the sand wassoft they descended fast, and Phil suddenly uttered ashout. He drew up a shovelful of wet sand, and, afterthat, sand yet wetter.
"That will do," said Breakstone a minute or twolater. "Stand aside now and watch the water come intoour well."
They had reached an underground seepage or soakage, draining from the higher ground above, and slowly apool of water gathered at the bottom. The four uttered ashout of joy, entirely pardonable at such a time. Thewater was muddy, and it was warm, but it was pure waterwithout any alkali, and, as such it meant life, life to menand beasts in the desert.
"The horses first," said Breakstone, "or they'll betumbling in here on our heads, and they are entitled toit, anyhow."
They filled their kettles and pans with water, climbingout again and again. The horses drank greedily anduttered deep sighs of satisfaction. It took a long timeto give them enough by this method, but when they weresatisfied the men took their tin cups and drank.
"Slowly now," said Breakstone. "Don't you be tooeager there, John, you escaped convict! Phil, youaccidental buffalo killer, just hold that cup of yours steady,or you'll be dashing its contents into your mouth beforethe rest of us. Now then, you sun-scorched scamps, drink!"
The four drank together and at the same pace. Neverin his life had anything more delicious trickled downPhilip Bedford's throat. That yellow, muddy watermust have been the nectar that Jupiter and the rest of thegods drank, when they were lounging about Olympus.Four empty cups came back, and four heartfelt sighs ofsatisfaction were uttered. The cups were filled again, but Bill Breakstone held up a warning finger.
"I know you want it bad," he said, "because I wantit myself just as bad as any of you, but remember thatit's never good for the health to drink too fast, especiallywhen you're nearly dead of thirst."
Phil appreciated the wisdom of his words. Yet hewas terribly thirsty. On the burning desert the evaporationwas so rapid that his system was already dry againthrough and through.
"Now," said Bill Breakstone, "fill again, gentlemen, and drink. Not quite so fast as before. Just let itlinger a little, like an epicure over his wine, while thedelicious taste tickles your palate, and the delicate aromafills your nostrils."
The yellow water was all of these things to them, andthey did as Bill bade while they drank. After that, theytook more cups of it from time to time, and noted withsatisfaction that, as they dipped the water out of the pit, more trickled back in again. Toward night they wateredthe horses a second time, and Arenberg suggested thatthey spend both the night and the day there, since thewater seemed to be plentiful. In the day they could atleast sit in the shadow of their horses, and, if pushedhard by the sun, they could sit in their well. As thesuggestion came from Arenberg, who had the most reasonfor haste, it was adopted unanimously and quickly.
In the night, when it was cool and work was easy, they deepened the well considerably, securing a muchstronger and purer flow of water. They also gave agreater slope to the sides, and then they went to sleep, very well contented with themselves. The next day, either in reality or imagination, was hotter than any ofthe others, and they felt devoutly thankful for the well,by which they could stay as long as they chose. Whenthe sun was at its hottest they literally took refuge in it, sheltering themselves against the sandy bank and puttingtheir hands in the water.
"My hands must be conductors," said Bill Breakstone,"because, when I hold them in the water, I canfeel the damp coolness running all through my system.Now, Sir John, you escaped convict, without the stripedclothes, did you ever see such a fine well as this before?"
John laughed.
"I'd rather have this well and freedom," he said,"than my cell in the Castle of Montevideo and all thebeautiful mountain springs about there."
"Spoken like a man," said Bill Breakstone; "butthis well is a beauty on its own account, and not merelyby comparison. Look at the flowers all around itsbrink. Look at the beautiful white stone with which itis walled up. Look at the clearness of the water, likesilver, in which my lily white hand now laves itself.
"Our thirst rages;Water is found;Out of HadesAt one bound."Can you better that descriptive poem, Phil?"
Phil shook his head.
"No, Bill," he replied, "I can't. We're all of uspoets at heart, but you're the only one that can give hispoetry expression. One poet is enough, another is toomany."
At sundown they watered all the horses again, filledevery canteen and skin bag with water, bade farewell tothe well that they had digged and loved, and againmarched westward over the sand. But they were nowvigorous and full of hope, the sand was harder, and inthe long cool night hours they traveled fast. Their mostpressing need now was to secure food for the horses, whichwere relatively weaker than their masters, and by themoonlight they watched anxiously for some dim linewhich would indicate the approach of forests ormountains. They saw no such line, but the country wasundoubtedly growing hillier. The sand was also packedmuch harder. At times it seemed to resemble soil, butas yet there was neither grass nor bushes.
They plodded along in silence, but hopeful. All thehorses were weak from the lack of food, and the fourwalked by the side of them throughout the night. Butthe night itself was beautiful, a dusky blue sky sprinkledwith a myriad of silver stars. The weakness of the horsesincreased, and the four human beings were much alarmedfor their brute comrades, who were so important to them.But toward morning all the horses raised their heads, thrust out their noses, and began to sniff.
"Now what can the matter be?" exclaimed John Bedford.
"They smell water," replied Bill Breakstone. "Theycan smell it a long way off, and, as it's bound to besurface water, that means grass. I'm of the opinion, boys, that we're saved."
The horses, despite their weakness, advanced sorapidly now that the four ran in order to keep up.
"Jump on their backs," exclaimed Bill Breakstone, when they had gone about a quarter of a mile. "It'swater sure, and they won't mind a little extra weightnow."
They sprang into the saddles, and the horses, seemingto take it as a hint, broke into a run. They ascendeda slope and saw a dark outline before them.
"Trees! Pines! Fine, good pines!" exclaimed Arenberg."The sight iss much good!"
They galloped among the pines, which were withoutundergrowth, and then down the other slope. Philcaught a glimpse of something that set all his pulsesbeating. It was a surface of dark blue water.
"Yes, the pines are good," he said, "but this is better!A lake, boys! A lake of pure cold water, a preciousjewel of a lake, set here among the hills of the desert, and just waiting for us!"
Phil was right. It was a little lake set down amonghills, with a rim of tall forest. It was almost circular, and about a hundred yards in diameter. They rode intoit until their horses were up to their bodies. They letthem drink copiously, and then rode back to the bank, after which they were out with the tin cups again andtook their fill, finding the water not only pure but cold.Then Philip Bedford sat down on the grass and looked atthe lake. A light wind was making silver lacework ofits surface. Beyond it, and apparently for some distance, fine, tall trees stood. Abundant grass, sheltered by thehills, grew in the open places. At the far edge of thelake a dozen wild ducks swam, evidently not yetunderstanding human presence. The silver of the water andthe green of the grass were like a lotion to the boy's eyes, used so long to the brazen sun and the hot sand. Helooked and looked, and then he cried:
"I think this must be heaven!"
Nobody laughed. Every one had the same feeling.They had come from the desert, and the power of contrastwas so great that the little lake with its trees and grasswas, in truth, like a foretaste of heaven. They tookeverything from the horses, even the bridles, and turnedthem loose. There was no danger that they would wanderfrom such a place. Then John Bedford began to take offhis clothes.
"I'm going to have a swim," he said. "I haven'thad a real bath in more than three years, and, after thislast march of ours, I think I'm carrying at least ahundred pounds of unpleasant desert about my body."
"Me, too," said Phil. "Bet you ten thousand acresof desert that I beat you into the water."
"Go ahead, boys," said Breakstone, "and Hans andI will watch and decide. Remember that you mustn'thave on a single garment when you jump, or you'll bedisqualified."
Breakstone had scarcely finished the words when twowhite bodies flashed through the air and struck the waterwith two splashes that were one in sound. Both disappearedbeneath the surface and then came up, splutteringand splashing and swimming with bold strokes.
"A tie," said Bill Breakstone.
Hans Arenberg nodded.
The brothers found the water much colder than theyhad expected, but they swam so vigorously that they weresoon in a fine glow. Bill Breakstone looked at HansArenberg. Hans Arenberg looked at Bill Breakstone.
"Why not?" said Bill.
"It iss what we ought to do," said Arenberg.
In two minutes they also were in the lake, enjoying agreater luxury than any Roman ever found in his marbleand perfumed bath. All the dust and dirt of the desertwere quickly swept from them, and the cold water infusednew life into their veins and muscles. Toward the centerthey found by diving that the lake had a depth of at leasttwenty feet. As they saw no stream flowing into it, theywere of the opinion that it was fed by undergroundsprings, probably the snow water from distant mountains, which accounted for its coldness. At the far side theyfound the outlet, a rivulet that flowed between rocks andthen descended swiftly toward the plain. They markedits course by the rows of trees on either side, and theyknew that after its passage from the hilly country itwould enter the desert, there to be lost among the sands.To the north of them the country seemed to rise considerably, and Breakstone believed that the faint blue hazejust under the horizon indicated mountains.
"If so," he said, "we're not likely to suffer muchmore from the desert, because the mountains in this partof the Southwest generally mean trees and water.Meanwhile, we'll take the goods the gods provide us, while thelovely lake is here beside us; which bears a littleresemblance to more famous lines, and which fits the case justnow."
After a splendid swim they lay on the grass and letthe sun dry them, while they soothed their eyes with theview of the lakes and the woods and the horses grazed inpeace near the water's edge. It was idyllic, sylvan, andat this moment they felt at peace with everybody, allexcept Arenberg, who rarely let his boy and the Comanchesgo out of his thoughts.
"Maybe we're the first white people who have everseen this lake," said John Bedford.
"Not likely," replied Breakstone. "Hunters andtrappers have roved through this region a lot. People ofthat kind generally see things before the discoverers comealong and name 'em."
"At any rate," said Phil, "we've never seen it before, and since it's the color of silver, and it's set here in thisbowl, I propose that we call it 'The Silver Cup."
"Good," said Breakstone, and the others, also, approved. They were silent for awhile longer, enjoyingtheir rest, and then Hans Arenberg spoke gravely:
"It iss likely," he said, "that the Comanches knowof this lake, and that warriors in time may come here.We are sure that their bands went westward to avoid theAmerican troops. Wherever there iss good water theywill come sooner or later, and this water iss the best. Itmay be that it will pay us to stay here awhile and seeksome clue."
"I think you're right," said Bill Breakstone, speaking for all the others. "We don't know just where weare going, and we've got to stop and catch hold tosomething somewhere. And, as you say, in this part of theworld good water is bound to draw people."
Now that they were thoroughly refreshed they dressedand made a very careful inspection of the country. Onall sides of "The Silver Cup" but the north the belt ofwood was narrow, but northward it seemed to extend to aconsiderable distance. Looking from an elevation there, they were positive that the blue haze under the horizonmeant mountains. There was timber as far as they couldsee in that direction, and this view confirmed them intheir resolution to stay where they were for awhile.
They also took into account another consideration. Ithad been many months since the battle of Buena Vista.Much had happened since then, and the summer waswaning. With winter approaching, it was more thanlikely that the Comanches would either hug the warmplains or return toward them. It was an additionalreason why warriors might come to The Silver Cup. Suchcoming, of course, brought danger, but the likelihood ofsuccess increased with the danger.
They found a sheltered place on the north side of thelake, but about forty yards distant. It was a kind ofrocky alcove, sloping down toward the water, with greattrees growing very thickly on every side. They put theirsupplies in here and made beds of dry leaves. Just abovethem was a fine open space richly grassed, into whichthey turned the horses.
"Those four-footed friends of ours will be our sentinelsto-night," said Bill Breakstone. "I don't think anycreeping Comanche could pass them without an alarmbeing raised, and, as we all need rest, we'll leave thewatching to them and take the chances."
