15 files changed, 58361 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/13345-0.txt b/13345-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1cf1784
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13345-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11022 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13345 ***
+
+[Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have
+been preserved in this etext.]
+
+
+VANGUARDS
+OF THE PLAINS
+
+[Illustration: I COULD NOT SPEAK THEN, FOR ONE SENTENCE WAS RINGING IN
+MY EARS--"I WAS ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU"]
+
+VANGUARDS OF
+THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE OLD SANTA FÉ TRAIL
+
+BY
+MARGARET HILL McCARTER
+
+AUTHOR OF
+_The Price of the Prairie_
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+[Illustration]
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+1917, Harper & Brothers
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+
+This story of the old Santa Fé Trail would do honor to the memory of
+those stalwart men who defied the desert, who walked the prairies
+boldly, and who died bravely--_vanguards_ in the building of a firm
+highway for the commerce of a westward-moving Empire.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+       FOREWORD
+
+PART I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+I. THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+II. A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+III. THE WIDENING HORIZON
+IV. THE MAN IN THE DARK
+V. WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+VI. SPYING OUT THE LAND
+VII. "SANCTUARY"
+VIII. THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+PART II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+IX. IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+X. THE HANDS THAT CLING
+XI. "OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+XII. THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+XIII. IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+XIV. OPENING THE RECORD
+XV. THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+XVI. FINISHING TOUCHES
+XVII. SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+PART III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+XVIII. WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+XIX. A MAN'S PART
+XX. GONE OUT
+XXI. IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+PART IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+XXII. THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+Westward, along the level prairies of a kingdom yet to be, my memory
+runs, with a clear vision of the days when romance died not and strong
+hearts never failed. The glamour of the plains is before my eyes; the
+tingle of courage, danger-born, is in my pulse-beat; the soft hand of
+love is touching my hand. I live again the drama of life wherein there
+are no idle actors, no stale, unmeaning lines. And beyond the action,
+this way _up_ the years, there runs also the forward-gazing vision
+toward a new Hesperides:
+
+
+       Through the veins
+  Of whose vast Empire flows, in strength'ning tides,
+  Trade, the calm health of nations.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+       And sometimes I would doubt
+  If statesmen, rocked and dandled into power,
+  Could leave such legacies to kings.
+
+
+
+I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE SANTA FÉ TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+
+
+  There came a time in the law of life
+    When over the nursing sod
+  The shadows broke, and the soul awoke
+    In a strange, dim dream of God.
+ --LANGDON SMITH.
+
+
+It might have been but yesterday that I saw it all: the glinting
+sunlight on the yellow Missouri boiling endlessly along at the foot of
+the bluff; the flood-washed sands across the river; the tangle of tall,
+coarse weeds fringing them, edged by the scrubby underbrush. And beyond
+that the big trees of the Missouri woodland, so level against the
+eastern horizon that I used to wonder if I might not walk upon their
+solid-looking tops if I could only reach them. I wondered, too, why the
+trees on our side of the river should vary so in height when those in
+the eastern distance were so evenly grown. One day I had asked Jondo the
+reason for this, and had learned that it was because of the level ground
+on the farther side of the valley. I began then to love the level places
+of the earth. I love them still. And, always excepting that one titanic
+rift, where the world stands edgewise, with the sublimity of the
+Almighty shimmering through its far depths, I love them more than any
+other thing that nature has yet offered to me.
+
+But to come back to that picture of yesterday: old Fort Leavenworth on
+the bluff; the little and big ravines that billow the landscape about
+it; the faint lines of trails winding along the hillsides toward the
+southwest; the unclouded skies so everlastingly big and intensely blue;
+and, hanging like a spray of glorious blossoms flung high above me, the
+swaying folds of the wind-caressed flag, now drooping on its tall staff,
+now swelling full and free, straight from its gripping halyards.
+
+Between me and the fort many people were passing to and fro, some of
+whom were to walk with me down the long trail of years. Evermore that
+April day stands out as the beginning of things for me. Dim are the days
+behind it, a jumble of happy childish hours, each keen enough as the
+things of childhood go; but from that one day to the present hour the
+unforgotten deeds of busy years run clearly in my memory as I lift my
+pen to write somewhat of their dramatic record.
+
+And that this may not seem all a backward gaze, let me face about and
+look forward from the beginning--a stretch of canvas, lurid sometimes,
+sometimes in glorious tinting, sometimes intensely dark, with rifts of
+lightning cleaving through its blackness. But nowhere dull, nowhere
+without design in every brush-stroke.
+
+I had gone out on the bluff to watch for the big fish that Bill Banney,
+a young Kentuckian over at the fort, had told me were to be seen only on
+those April days when the Missouri was running north instead of south.
+And that when little boys kept very still, the fish would come out of
+the water and play leap-frog on the sand-bars.
+
+If I failed to see them this morning, I meant to run back to the
+parade-ground and play leap-frog myself with my cousin Beverly, who
+wanted proof for most of Bill Banney's stories. Beverly was growing wise
+and lanky for his age. I was still chubby, and in most things innocent,
+and inclined to believe all that I heard, or I should not have been
+taken in by that fish story.
+
+We were orphans with no recollection of any other home than the log
+house near the fort. We had been fathered and mothered by our uncle,
+Esmond Clarenden, owner of the little store across the square from our
+house, and a larger establishment down at Independence on the Missouri
+River.
+
+Always a wonderful man to me was that Esmond Clarenden, product of one
+of the large old New England colleges. He found time to guard our young
+years with the same diplomatic system by which he controlled all of his
+business affairs. He laid his plans carefully and never swerved from
+carrying them through afterward; he insisted on order in everything; he
+rendered value for value in his contracts; he chose his employees
+carefully, and trusted them fully; he had a keen sense of humor, a
+genial spirit of good-will, and he loved little children. Fitted as he
+was by culture and genius to have entered into the greater opportunities
+of the Eastern States, he gave himself to the real up-building of the
+West, and in the larger comfort and prosperity and peace of the Kansas
+prairies of to-day his soul goes marching on.
+
+The waters, as I watched them, were all running south toward that vague,
+down-stream world shut off by trees at a bend of the course. I waited a
+long time there for the current to shift to the north, wondering
+meanwhile about those level-topped forests, and what I might see beyond
+them if I were sitting on their flat crests. And, as I wondered, the
+first dim sense of being _shut in_ came filtering through my childish
+consciousness. I could not cross the river. Big as my playground had
+always been, I had never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff
+up-stream, nor down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the
+southwest. What lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and
+again. I had been a dreamer all of my short life, and this new feeling
+of being shut in, held back, from something slipped upon me easily.
+
+As I sat on the bluff in the April sunshine, I turned my face toward
+the west and stretched out my chubby arms for larger freedom. I wanted
+to _see the open level places_, wanted till it hurt me. I could cry
+easily enough for some things. I could not cry for this. It was too deep
+for tears to reach. Moreover, this new longing seemed to drop down on me
+suddenly and overwhelm me, until I felt almost as if I were caught in a
+net.
+
+As I stared with half-seeing eyes toward the wooded ravines beyond the
+fort, suddenly through the budding branches I caught sight of a horseman
+riding down a half-marked trail into a deep hollow. Horsemen were common
+enough to forget in a moment, but when this one reappeared on the hither
+side of the ravine, I saw that the rider's face was very dark, that his
+dress, from the sombrero to the spurred heel, was Mexican, and that he
+was heavily armed, even for a plainsman. When he reached the top of the
+bluff he made straight across the square toward my uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's little storehouse, and I lost sight of him.
+
+Something about him seemed familiar to me, for the gift of remembering
+faces was mine, even then. A fleeting childish memory called up such a
+face and dress somewhere back in the dim days of babyhood, with the
+haunting sound of a low, musical voice, speaking in the soft Castilian
+tongue.
+
+But the memory vanished and I sat a long time gazing at the wooded west
+that hid the open West of my day-dreams.
+
+Suddenly Jondo came riding up on his big black horse to the very edge
+of the bluff.
+
+"You are such a little mite, I nearly forgot to see you," he called,
+cheerily. "Your Uncle Esmond wants you right away. Mat Nivers, or
+somebody else, sent me to run you down," he added, leaning over to lift
+me up to a seat on the horse behind him.
+
+Few handsomer men ever graced a saddle. Big, broad-shouldered, muscular,
+yet agile, a head set like a Greek statue, and a face--nobody could ever
+make a picture of Jondo's face for me--the curling brown hair, soft as a
+girl's, the broad forehead, deep-set blue eyes, heavy dark brow, cheeks
+always ruddy through the plain's tan, strong white teeth, firm square
+chin, and a smile like sunshine on the gray prairies. Eyes, lips,
+teeth--aye, the big heart behind them--all made that smile. No grander
+prince of men ever rode the trails or dared the dangers of the untamed
+West. I did not know his story for many years. I wish I might never have
+known it. But as he began with me, so he ended--brave, beloved old
+Jondo!
+
+Down on the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden and Mat Nivers were sitting
+with their feet crossed under them, tailor fashion, facing each other
+and talking earnestly. Over by the fort, Esmond Clarenden stood under a
+big elm-tree. A round little, stout little man he was, whose sturdy
+strength and grace of bearing made up for his lack of height. Like a
+great green tent the boughs of the elm, just budding into leaf, drooped
+over him. A young army officer on a cavalry horse was talking with him
+as we came up.
+
+"Run over there to Beverly now. Gail," my uncle said, with a wave of his
+hand.
+
+I was always in awe of shoulder-straps, so I scampered away toward the
+children. But not until, child-like, I had stared at the three men long
+enough to take a child's lasting estimate of things.
+
+I carry still the keen impression of that moment when I took,
+unconsciously, the measure of the three: the mounted army man, commander
+of the fort, big in his official authority and force; Jondo on his great
+black horse, to me the heroic type of chivalric courage; and between the
+two, Esmond Clarenden, unmounted, with feet firmly planted, suggesting
+nothing heroic, nothing autocratic. And yet, as he stood there,
+square-built, solid, certain, he seemed in some dim way to be the real
+man of whom the other two were but shadows. It took a quarter of a
+century for me to put into words what I learned with one glance that day
+in my childhood.
+
+As I came running toward the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, Gail! Shut your little mouth and open your big ears, and
+I'll tell you something. Maybe I'd better not tell you all at once,
+though. It might make you dizzy," he added, teasingly.
+
+"And maybe you better had," Mat Nivers said, calmly.
+
+"Maybe you'd better tell him yourself, if you feel that way," Beverly
+retorted.
+
+"I guess I'll do that," Mat began, with a twinkle in her big gray eyes;
+but my cousin interrupted her.
+
+Beverly loved to tease Mat through me, but he never got far, for I
+relied on her to curb him; and she was not one to be ruffled by trifles.
+Mat was an orphan and, like ourselves, a ward of Esmond Clarenden, but
+there were no ties of kinship between us. She was three years older than
+Beverly, and although she was no taller than he, she seemed like a woman
+to me, a keen-witted, good-natured child-woman, neat, cleanly, and
+contented. I wonder if many women get more out of life in these days of
+luxurious comforts than she found in the days of frontier hardships.
+
+"Well, it's this way, Gail. Mat doesn't know the straight of it,"
+Beverly began, dramatically. "There's going to be a war, or something,
+in Mexico, or somewhere, and a lot of soldiers are coming here to drill,
+and drill, and drill. And then--"
+
+The boy paused for effect.
+
+"And then, and then, _and_ then--or some time," Mat Nivers mimicked,
+jumping into the pause. "Why, they'll go to Mexico, or somewhere. And
+what Bev is really trying to tell hasn't anything to do with it--not
+directly, anyhow," she added, wisely. "The only new thing is that Uncle
+Esmond is going to Santa Fé right away. You know he has bought goods of
+the Santa Fé traders since we couldn't remember. And now he's going down
+there himself, and he's going to take you boys with him. That's what
+Bev is trying to get out, or keep back."
+
+"Whoopee-diddle-dee!" Beverly shouted, throwing himself backward and
+kicking up his heels.
+
+I jumped up and capered about in glee at the thought of such a journey.
+But my heart-throb of childish delight was checked, mid-beat.
+
+"Won't Mat go, too?" I asked, with a sudden pain at my throat. Mat
+Nivers was a part of life to me.
+
+The smile fell away from the girl's lips. Her big, sunshiny gray eyes
+and her laughing good nature always made her beautiful to Beverly and
+me.
+
+"I don't want to go and leave Mat," I insisted.
+
+"Oh, I do," Beverly declared, boastingly. "It would be real nice and
+jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out on the
+prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were shooting
+Indians?"
+
+He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and arrow.
+But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered a sob.
+
+"She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden, and,
+besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo, and I reckon
+he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.
+
+Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of the
+orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the championship
+of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond Clarenden, who said little
+to children, and was instinctively trusted by all of them.
+
+With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes. It was
+never lost from them long at a time.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you keep _your_ little mouth shut and _your_ big
+ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the whole sheboodle better 'n
+any of you, and I'm not teasing and whimpering both at the same time,
+neither. Bev doesn't know anything except what I've told him, and I
+wasn't through when you got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war
+in Texas, and our soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look
+up at that flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars
+and Stripes go they _stay_."
+
+"Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied, pulling
+down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond hasn't
+anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he has been doing
+here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a merchant, and I guess he's
+just about as good as a general--a colonel, anyhow. But he's too short
+to fight, and too fat to run."
+
+"He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.
+
+"Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men that
+keeps things going everywhere."
+
+"I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
+straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he came
+here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war in
+Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa Fé, even if Uncle
+Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all a girl knows about
+things," Beverly insisted.
+
+Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked straight at the boy.
+
+"I don't pretend to know what I don't know, but I'll bet a million
+billion dollars there is something else besides just all this war stuff.
+I can't tell it, I just feel it. Anyhow, I'm to stay here with Aunty
+Boone till you come back. Girls can be trusted anywhere, but it may take
+the whole Army of the West, yet, to follow up and look after two little
+runty boys. And let me tell _you_ something, Bev, something I heard
+Aunty Boone say this morning." She said: "Taint goin' to be more 'n a
+minnit now till them boys grows up an' grows together, same size, same
+age. They been little and big, long as they goin' to be. Now you know
+what you're coming to."
+
+Mat was digging in the ground with a stick, and she flipped a clod at
+Beverly with the last words. Both of us had once expected to marry her
+when we grew up, unless Jondo should carry her away as his bride before
+that time. He was a dozen years older than Mat, who was only fourteen
+and small for her age. A flush always came to her cheeks when we talked
+of Jondo in that way. We didn't know why.
+
+We sat silent for a little while. A vague sense of desolateness, of the
+turning-places of life, as real to children as to older folk, seemed to
+press suddenly down upon all three of us. Ours was not the ordinary
+child-life even of that day. And that was a time when children had no
+world of their own as they have to-day. Whatever developed men and women
+became a part of the younger life training as well. And while we were
+ignorant of much that many children then learned early, for we had lived
+mostly beside the fort on the edge of the wilderness, we were alert, and
+self-dependent, fearless and far-seeing. We could use tools readily: we
+could build fires and prepare game for cooking; we could climb trees,
+set traps, swim in the creek, and ride horses. Moreover, we were bound
+to one another by the force of isolation and need for playmates. Our
+imagination supplied much that our surroundings denied us. So we felt
+more deeply, maybe, than many city-bred children who would have paled
+with fear at dangers that we only laughed over.
+
+No ripple in the even tenor of our days, however, had given any hint of
+the coming of this sudden tense oppression on our young souls, and we
+were stunned by what we could neither express nor understand.
+
+"Whatever comes or doesn't come," Beverly said at last, stretching
+himself at full length, stomach downward, on the bare ground, "whatever
+happens to us, we three will stand by each other always and always,
+won't we, Mat?"
+
+He lifted his face to the girl's. Oh, Beverly! I saw him again one day
+down the years, stretched out on the ground like this, lifting again a
+pleading face. But that belongs--down the years.
+
+"Yes, always and always," Mat replied, and then because she had a
+Spartan spirit, she added: "But let's don't say any more that way. Let's
+think of what you are going to see--the plains, the Santa Fé Trail, the
+mountains, and maybe bad Indians. And even old Santa Fé town itself. You
+are in for 'the big shift,' as Aunty Boone says, and you've got to be
+little men and take whatever comes. It will come fast enough, you can
+bet on that."
+
+Yesterday I might have sobbed on her shoulder. I did not know then that
+out on the bluff an hour ago I had come to the first turn in my
+life-trail, and that I could not look back now. I did know that I
+_wanted to go with Uncle Esmond._ I looked away from Mat's gray eyes,
+and Beverly's head dropped on his arms, face downward--looked at nothing
+but blue sky, and a graceful drooping flag; nothing but a half-sleepy,
+half-active fort; nothing but the yellow April floods far up-stream,
+between wooded banks tenderly gray-green in the spring sunshine. But I
+did not see any of these things then. Before my eyes there stretched a
+vast level prairie, with dim mountain heights beyond them. And marching
+toward them westward, westward, past lurking danger, Indians here and
+wild beasts there, went three men: the officer on his cavalry mount;
+Jondo on his big black horse; Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor on
+foot, it seemed, but going forward somehow. And between these three and
+the misty mountain peaks there was a face--not Mat Nivers's, for the
+first time in all my day-dreams--a sweet face with dark eyes looking
+straight into mine. And plainly then, just as plainly as I have heard it
+many times since then, came a call--the first clear bugle-note of the
+child-soul--a call to service, to patriotism, and to love.
+
+All that afternoon while Mat Nivers sang about her tasks Beverly and I
+tried to play together among the elm and cottonwood trees about our
+little home, but evening found us wide awake and moping. Instead of the
+two tired little sleepy-heads that could barely finish supper, awake,
+when night came, we lay in our trundle-bed, whispering softly to each
+other and staring at the dark with tear-wet eyes--our spiritual
+barometers warning us of a coming change. Something must have happened
+to us that night which only the retrospect of years revealed. In that
+hour Beverly Clarenden lost a year of his life and I gained one. From
+that time we were no longer little and big to each other--we were
+comrades.
+
+It must have been nearly midnight when I crept out of bed and slipped
+into the big room where Uncle Esmond and Jondo sat by the fireplace,
+talking together.
+
+"Hello, little night-hawk! Come here and roost," Jondo said, opening his
+arms to me.
+
+I slid into their embrace and snuggled my head against his broad
+shoulder, listening to all that was said. Three months later the little
+boy had become a little man, and my cuddling days had given place to
+the self-reliance of the fearless youngster of the trail.
+
+"Why do you make this trip now, Esmond?" Jondo asked at length, looking
+straight into my uncle's face.
+
+"I want to get down there right now because I want to get a grip on
+trade conditions. I can do better after the war if I do. It won't last
+long, and we are sure to take over a big piece of ground there when it
+is over. And when that is settled commerce must do the real building-up
+of the country. I want to be a part of that thing and grow with it. Why
+do you go with me?"
+
+My uncle looked directly at Jondo, although he asked the question
+carelessly.
+
+"To help you cross the plains. You know the redskins get worse every
+trip," Jondo answered, lightly.
+
+I stared at both of them until Jondo said, laughingly:
+
+"You little owl, what are you thinking about?"
+
+"I think you are telling each other stories," I replied, frankly.
+
+For somehow their faces made me think of Beverly's face out on the
+parade-ground that morning, when he had lifted it and looked at Mat
+Nivers; and their voices, deep bass as they were, sounded like Beverly's
+voice whispering between his sobs, before he went to sleep.
+
+Both men smiled and said nothing. But when I went to my bed again Jondo
+tucked the covers about me and Uncle Esmond came and bade me good
+night.
+
+"I guess you have the makings of a plainsman," he said, with a smile, as
+he patted me on the head.
+
+"The beginnings, anyhow," Jondo added. "He can see pretty far already."
+
+For a long time I lay awake, thinking of all that Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+had said to me. It is no wonder that I remember that April day as if it
+were but yesterday. Such days come only to childhood, and oftentimes
+when no one of older years can see clearly enough to understand the
+bigness of their meaning to the child who lives through them.
+
+All of my life I had heard stories of the East, of New York and St.
+Louis, where there were big houses and wonderful stores. And of
+Washington, where there was a President, and a Congress, and a strange
+power that could fill and empty Fort Leavenworth at will. I had heard of
+the Great Lakes, and of cotton-fields, and tobacco-plantations, and
+sugar-camps, and ships, and steam-cars. I had pictured these things a
+thousand times in my busy imagination and had longed to see them. But
+from that day they went out of my life-dreams. Henceforth I belonged to
+the prairies of the West. No one but myself took account of this, nor
+guessed that a life-trend had had its commencement in the small events
+of one unimportant day.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+
+
+  One stone the more swings to her place
+    In that dread Temple of Thy worth;
+  It is enough that through Thy grace
+    I saw naught common on Thy earth.
+
+
+The next morning I was wakened by the soft voice of Aunty Boone, our
+cook, saying:
+
+"You better get up! Revilly blow over at the fort long time ago. Wonder
+it didn't blow your batter-cakes clear away. Mat and Beverly been up
+since 'fore sunup."
+
+Aunty Boone was the biggest woman I have ever seen. Not the tallest,
+maybe--although she measured up to a height of six feet and two
+inches--not the fattest, but a woman with the biggest human frame,
+overlaid with steel-hard muscles. Yet she was not, in her way, clumsy or
+awkward. She walked with a free stride, and her every motion showed a
+powerful muscular control. Her face was jet-black, with keen shining
+eyes, and glittering white teeth. In my little child-world she was the
+strangest creature I had ever known. In the larger world whither the
+years of my manhood have led me she holds the same place.
+
+She had been born a princess of royal blood, heir to a queenship in her
+tribe in a far-away African kingdom. In her young womanhood, so the tale
+ran, the slave-hunter had found her and driven her aboard a slave-ship
+bound for the American coast. He never drove another slave toward any
+coast. In Virginia her first purchaser had sold her quickly to a Georgia
+planter whose _heirs_ sent her on to Mississippi. Thence she soon found
+her way to the Louisiana rice-fields. Nobody came to take her back to
+any place she had quitted. "Safety first," is not a recent practice. She
+had enormous strength and capacity for endurance, she learned rapidly,
+kept her own counsel, obeyed no command unless she chose to do so, and
+feared nothing in the Lord's universe. The people of her own race had
+little in common with her. They never understood her and so they feared
+her. And being as it were outcast by them, she came to know more of the
+ways and customs, and even the thoughts, of the white people better than
+of her own. Being quick to imitate, she spoke in the correcter language
+of those whom she knew best, rather than the soft, ungrammatical dialect
+of the plantation slave or the grunt and mumble of the isolated African.
+Realizing that service was to be her lot, she elected to render that
+service where and to whom she herself might choose.
+
+One day she had walked into New Orleans and boarded a Mississippi
+steamer bound for St. Louis. It took three men to eject her bodily from
+the deck into a deep and dangerous portion of the stream. She swam
+ashore, and when the steamer made its next stop she walked aboard again.
+The three men being under the care of a physician, and the remainder of
+the crew burdened with other tasks, she was not again disturbed. Some
+time later she appeared at the landing below Fort Leavenworth, and
+strode up the slope to the deserted square where Esmond Clarenden stood
+before his little store alone in the deepening twilight.
+
+I have heard that she had had a way of appearing suddenly, like a beast
+of prey, in the dusk of the evening, and that few men cared to meet her
+at that time alone.
+
+My uncle was a snug-built man, sixty-two inches high, with small,
+shapely hands and feet. Towering above him stood this great, strange
+creature, barefooted, ragged, half tiger, half sphinx.
+
+"I'm hungry. I'll eat or I kill. I'm nobody's slave!"
+
+The soft voice was full of menace, the glare of famine and fury was in
+the burning eyes, and the supple cruelty of the wild beast was in the
+clenched hands.
+
+Esmond Clarenden looked up at her with interest. Then pointing toward
+our house he said, calmly:
+
+"Neither are you anybody's master. Go over there to the kitchen and get
+your supper. If you can cook good meals, I'll pay you well. If you
+can't, you'll leave here."
+
+Possibly it was the first time in her strange and varied career that she
+had taken a command kindly, and obeyed because she must. And so the
+savage African princess, the terror of the terrible slave-ship, the
+untamed plantation scourge, with a record for deeds that belong to
+another age and social code, became the great, silent, faithful,
+fearless servant of the plains; with us, but never of us, in all the
+years that followed. But she fitted the condition of her day, and in her
+place she stood, where the beloved black mammy of a gentler mold would
+have fallen.
+
+She announced that her name was Daniel Boone, which Uncle Esmond
+considered well enough for one of such a westward-roving nature. But
+Jondo declared that the "Daniel" belonged to her because, like unto the
+Bible Daniel, no lion, nor whole den of lions, would ever dine at her
+expense. To us she became Aunty Boone. With us she was always
+gentle--docile, rather; and one day we came to know her real measure,
+and--we never forgot her.
+
+I bounced out of bed at her call this morning, and bounced my breakfast
+into a healthy, good-natured stomach. The sunny April of yesterday had
+whirled into a chilly rain, whipped along by a raw wind. The skies were
+black and all the spring verdure was turned to a sickish gray-green.
+
+"Weather always fit the times," Aunty Boone commented as she heaped my
+plate with the fat buckwheat cakes that only she could ever turn off a
+griddle. "You packin' up for somepin' now. What you goin' to get is
+fo'casted in this here nasty day."
+
+"Why, we _are_ going away!" I cried, suddenly recalling the day before.
+"I wish, though, that Mat could go. Wouldn't you like to go, too, Aunty?
+Only, Bev says there's deserts, where there's just rocks and sand and
+everything, and no water sometimes. You and Mat couldn't stand that
+'cause you are women-folks."
+
+I stiffened with importance and clutched my knife and fork hard.
+
+"Couldn't!" Aunty Boone gave a scornful grunt. "Women-folks stands
+double more 'n men. You'll see when you get older. I know about you
+freightin' off to Santy Fee. _You_ don't know what desset is. _You_
+never _see sand_. You never _feel_ what it is to _want watah_. Only
+folks 'cross the ocean in the real desset knows that. Whoo-ee!"
+
+I remembered the weird tales she had told us of her girlhood--tales that
+had thrilled me with wonder--told sometimes in the twilight, sometimes
+by the kitchen fire on winter nights, sometimes on long, still,
+midsummer afternoons when the air quivered with heat and the Missouri
+hung about hot sand-bars, half asleep.
+
+"What do you know about this trip, Aunty Boone?" I asked, eagerly; for
+although she could neither read nor write, she had a sponge-like
+absorbing power for keeping posted on all that happened at the fort.
+
+"Cla'n'den"--the woman never called my uncle by any other name--"he's
+goin' to Santy Fee, an' you boys with him, 'cause--"
+
+She paused and her shining eyes grew dull as they had a way of doing in
+her thoughtful or prophetic moments.
+
+"He knows what for--him an' Jondo. One of 'em's storekeeper an' t'other
+a plainsman, but they tote together always--an' they totin' now. You
+can't see what, but they totin', they totin', just the same. Now run out
+to the store. Things is stirrin'. Things is stirrin'."
+
+I bolted my cakes, sodden with maple syrup, drank my mug of milk, and
+hurried out toward the storehouse.
+
+Fort Leavenworth in the middle '40's was sometimes an indolent place,
+and sometimes a very busy one, depending upon the activity of the
+Western frontier. On this raw April morning everything was fairly ajerk
+with life and motion. And I knew from child-experience that a body of
+soldiers must be coming up the river soon. Horses were rushed to-day
+where yesterday they had been leisurely led. Orders were shouted now
+that had been half sung a week ago. Military discipline took the place
+of fatigue attitudes. There was a banging of doors, a swinging of
+brooms, a clatter of tin, and a clanging of iron things. And everywhere
+went that slapping wind. And every shallow place in the ground held a
+chilly puddle. The government buildings always seemed big and bare and
+cold to me. And this morning they seemed drearier than ever, beaten upon
+by the fitful swish of the rain.
+
+In contrast with these were my uncle's snug quarters, for warmth was a
+part of Esmond Clarenden's creed. I used to think that the little
+storeroom, filled with such things as a frontier fort could find use
+for, was the biggest emporium in America, and the owner thereof suffered
+nothing, in my eyes, in comparison with A.T. Stewart, the opulent New
+York merchant of his day.
+
+As I ran, bareheaded and coatless, across the wide wet space between our
+home and the storehouse a soldier came dashing by on horseback. I dodged
+behind him only to fall sprawling in a slippery pool under the very feet
+of another horseman, riding swiftly toward the boat-landing.
+
+Neither man paid any attention to me as I slowly picked myself up and
+started toward the store. The soldier had not seen me at all. The other
+man's face was dark, and he wore the dress of the Mexican. It was only
+by his alertness and skill that his horse missed me, but as he hurried
+away he gave no more heed to me than if I had been a stone in his path.
+
+I had turned my ankle in the fall and I could only limp to the
+storehouse and drop down inside. I would not cry out, but I could not
+hold back the sobs as I tried to stand, and fell again in a heap at
+Jondo's feet.
+
+"Things were stirrin'" there, as Aunty Boone had said, but withal there
+was no disorder. Esmond Clarenden never did business in that way. No
+loose ends flapped about his rigging, and when a piece of work was
+finished with him, there was nothing left to clear away. Bill Banney,
+the big grown-up boy from Kentucky, who, out of love of adventure, had
+recently come to the fort, was helping Jondo with the packing of certain
+goods. Mat and Beverly were perched on the counter, watching all that
+was being done and hearing all that was said.
+
+"What's the matter, little plainsman?" Jondo cried, catching me up and
+setting me on the counter. "Got a thorn in your shoe, or a stone-bruise,
+or a chilblain?"
+
+"I slipped out there behind a soldier on horseback, right in front of a
+little old Mexican who was just whirling off to the river," I said, the
+tears blinding my eyes.
+
+"Why, he's turned his ankle! Looks like it was swelling already," Mat
+Nivers declared, as she slid from the counter and ran toward me.
+
+"It's a bad job," Jondo declared. "Just when we want to get off, too."
+
+"Can't I go with you to Santa Fé, Uncle Esmond?" I wailed.
+
+"Yes, Gail, we'll fix you up all right," my uncle said, but his face was
+grave as he examined my ankle.
+
+It was a bad job, much worse than any of us had thought at first. And as
+they all gathered round me I suddenly noticed the same Mexican standing
+in the doorway, and I heard some one, I think it was Uncle Esmond, say:
+
+"Jondo, you'd better take Gail over to the surgeon right away--" His
+voice trailed off somewhere and all was blank nothingness to me. But my
+last impression was that my uncle stayed behind with the strange
+Mexican.
+
+In the excitement everybody forgot that I had on neither hat nor coat as
+they carried me through the raw wet air to the army surgeon's quarters
+beyond the soldiers' barracks.
+
+A chill and fever followed, and for a week there was only pain and
+trouble for me. Nothing else hurt quite so deeply, however, as the fear
+of being left behind when the Clarendens should start for Santa Fé. I
+would ask no questions, and nobody mentioned the trip, for which
+everything was preparing. I began at last to have a dread of being left
+in the night, of wakening some morning to find only Mat and myself with
+Aunty Boone in the little log house. Uncle Esmond had already been away
+for three days, but nobody told me where he had gone, nor why he went,
+nor when he would come back. It kept me awake at night, and the loss of
+sleep made me nervous and feverish.
+
+One afternoon about a week after my accident, when Beverly and Mat were
+putting the room in order and chattering like a couple of squirrels,
+Beverly said, carelessly:
+
+"Gail, it's been a half a week since Uncle Esmond went down to our other
+store in Independence, and we are going to start on our trip just as
+soon as he gets back, unless he sends for me and Jondo."
+
+I knew that he was trying to tell me that they meant to go without me,
+for he hurried out with the last words. No boy wants to talk to a
+disappointed boy, and I had to clinch my teeth hard to keep back the
+tears.
+
+"I want to get well quicker, Mat. I want to go to Santa Fé with
+Beverly," I wailed, making a desperate effort to get out of bed.
+
+"You cuddle right down there, Gail Clarenden, if you want to get well at
+all. If you're real careful you'll be all right in a day or two. Let's
+wait for Uncle Esmond to come home before we start any worries."
+
+It was in her voice, girl or woman, that comforting note that could
+always soothe me.
+
+"Mat, won't you try to get them to let me go?" I pleaded.
+
+She made no promises, but busied herself with getting my foot into its
+place again, singing softly to herself all the while. Then she read me
+stories from our few story-books till I fell asleep.
+
+It was twilight when I wakened. Where I lay I could hear Esmond
+Clarenden and Aunty Boone talking in the kitchen, and I listened eagerly
+to all they said.
+
+"But it's no place for a woman," my uncle was urging, gravely.
+
+"I ain't a woman, I'm a cook. You want cooks if you eats. Mat ain't a
+woman, she's a girl. But she's stronger 'n Beverly. If you can't leave
+him, how can you leave her? An' Gail never get well if he's left here,
+Cla'n'den, now he's got the goin' fever. Never! An' if you never got
+back--"
+
+"I don't believe he would get well, either." Then Uncle Esmond spoke
+lower and I could not hear any more.
+
+Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing in
+together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in with them,
+and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment.
+
+"We are all going to Santa Fé over the long trail. Every last gun of us.
+Aunty Boone, and Mat, and you, and me, and Jondo, and Uncle Esmond,
+rag-tag and bobtail. Whoop-ee-diddle-dee!" Beverly threw up his cap,
+and, catching Mat by the arms, they whirled around the room together.
+
+"Who says so, Bev?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Them as knows and bosses everything in this world. Jondo told me, and
+he's just the boss's shadow. Now guess who," Beverly replied.
+
+"It's all true, Gail," Mat assured me. "Esmond Clarenden _is_ going to
+Santa Fé in spite of 'war, pestilence, famine, and sword,' as my
+_History of the World_ says, and he _is_ going to take son Beverly, and
+son Gail to watch son Beverly; and Miss Mat Nivers to watch both of them
+and shoo Indians away; and Aunt Daniel Boone to scare the Mexicans into
+the Gulf of California, if they act ugly, see!"
+
+She capered about the room, and as she passed me she stooped and patted
+me on the forehead. I didn't want her to do that. I had taken a long
+jump away from little-boy-dom a week ago, but I was supremely content
+now that all of us were to take the long trail together.
+
+That evening while Mat and Beverly went to look after some fishing-lines
+they had set--Mat and Bev were always going fishing--and Jondo was down
+at the store, the officer in command of the fort came in. He paid no
+attention to me lying there, all eyes and ears whenever shoulder-straps
+were present.
+
+"What did you decide to do about the trip to Santa Fé?" he asked, as he
+tipped back in his chair and settled down to cigars and an evening chat.
+
+"We shall be leaving on the boat in the morning," my uncle replied.
+
+The colonel's chair came down with a crack. "You don't mean it!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"I told you a week ago that I would be starting as soon as possible,"
+Esmond Clarenden said, quietly.
+
+"But, man, the war is raging, simply raging, down in Mexico right now.
+Our division will be here to commence drill in a few weeks, and we start
+for the border in a few months. You are mad to take such a risk." The
+commander's voice rose.
+
+"We must go, that's all!" my uncle insisted.
+
+"We? We? Who the devil are 'we'? None of my companies mutinied, I hope."
+
+The words did not sound like a joke, and there was little humor in the
+grim face.
+
+"'We' means Jondo, Banney, a young fellow from Kentucky--" Uncle Esmond
+began.
+
+"Humph! Banney's father carried a gun at Fort Dearborn in 1812. I
+thought that young fellow came here for military service," the colonel
+commented, testily.
+
+"Rather say he came for adventure," Esmond Clarenden suggested.
+
+"He'll get a deuced lot of it in a hurry, if you persuade him off with
+you."
+
+A flush swept over Esmond Clarenden's face, but his good-natured smile
+did not fail as he replied:
+
+"I don't persuade anybody. The rest of the company are my two nephews
+and the little girl, my ward, with our cook, Daniel Boone, as
+commander-in-chief of the pots and pans and any Indian meat foolish
+enough to fall in her way."
+
+Then came the explosion. Powder would have cost less than the energy
+blown off there. The colonel stamped and swore, and sprang to his feet
+in opposition, and flung himself down in disgust.
+
+"Women and children!" he gasped. "Why do you sacrifice helpless innocent
+ones?"
+
+Just then Aunty Boone strode in carrying a log of wood as big as a man's
+body, which she deftly threw on the fire. As the flame blazed high she
+gave one look at the young officer sitting before it, and then walked
+out as silently and sturdily as she had entered. It was such a look as a
+Great Dane dog full of superiority and indifference might have given to
+a terrier puppy, and from where I lay I thought the military man's face
+took on a very strange expression.
+
+"I 'sacrifice my innocent ones,'" my uncle answered the query, "because
+they will be safer with me than anywhere else. Young as they are, there
+are some forces against them already."
+
+"Well, you are going to a perilous place, over a most perilous trail, in
+a most perilous time of national affairs, to meet such treacherously
+villainous men as New Mexico offers in her market-places right now? And
+all for the sake of the commerce of the plains? Why do you take such
+chances to do business with such people, Clarenden?"
+
+Esmond Clarenden had been staring at the burning logs in the big
+fireplace during this conversation. He turned now and faced the young
+army officer squarely as he said in that level tone that we children had
+learned long ago was final:
+
+"Colonel, I'd go straight to hell and do business with the devil himself
+if I had any business dealings with him."
+
+The colonel's face fell. Slowly he relighted his cigar, and leaned back
+again in his chair, and with that diplomacy that covers a skilful
+retreat he said, smilingly:
+
+"If any man west of the Missouri River ever could do that it would be
+you, Clarenden. By the holy Jerusalem, the military lost one grand
+commander when you chose a college instead of West Point, and the East
+lost one well-bred gentleman from its circles of commerce and culture
+when you elected to do business on the old Santa Fé Trail instead of
+Broadway. But I reckon the West will need just such men as you long
+after the frontier fort has become a central point in the country's
+civilized area. And, blast you, Clarenden, blast your very picture! No
+man can help liking you. Not even the devil if he had the chance. Not
+one man in ten thousand would dare to make that trip right now. You've
+got the courage of a colonel and the judgment of a judge. Go to Santa
+Fé! We may meet you coming back. If we do, and you need us, command us!"
+
+He gave a courteous salute, and the two began to talk of other things;
+among them the purposes that were bringing young men westward.
+
+"So Banney, right out of old blue-grassy Kentucky, is going to back out
+of here and go with you," the colonel remarked.
+
+"I've hired him to drive one team. It's a lark for him, but the army
+would be a lark just the same," Esmond Clarenden declared. "He says he
+is to kill rattlesnakes and Mexicans, while Jondo kills Indians and I
+sit tight on top of the bales of goods to keep the wind from blowing
+them away. And the boys are to be made bridle-wise, _plains-broke_ for
+future freighting. That's all that life means to him right now."
+
+I do not know what else was said, nor what I heard and what I dreamed
+after that. If this journey meant a lark to a grown-up boy, it meant a
+pilgrimage through fairyland to a young boy like myself.
+
+And so the new life opened to us; and if the way was fraught with
+hardship and danger, it also taught us courage and endurance. Nor must
+we be measured by the boy life of to-day. Children lived the grown-up
+life then. It was all there was for them to live.
+
+The yellow Missouri boiled endlessly along by the foot of the bluff. The
+flag flapped broadly in the strong breeze that blew in from the west;
+the square log house--the only home we had ever known--looked forlornly
+after us, with its two front windows with blinds half drawn, like two
+half-closed, watching eyes; the cottonwoods and elms, the tiny
+storehouse--everything--grew suddenly very dear to us. The fort
+buildings throwing long shadows in the early morning, the level-topped
+forests east of the Missouri River, and the budding woodland that
+overdraped the ravines to the west, even in their silence, seemed like
+sentient things, loving us, as we loved them.
+
+We children had gone all over the place before sunrise and touched
+everything, in token of good-by; from some instinct tarrying longest at
+the flagpole, where we threw kisses to the great, beautiful banner high
+above us. Now, at the moment of leaving all these familiar things of all
+our years, a choking pain came to our throats. Mat's eyes filled with
+tears and she looked resolutely forward. Beverly and I clutched hands
+and shut our teeth together, determined to overcome this home-grip on
+our hearts. Aunty Boone sat in a corner of the deck as the boat swung
+out into the stream, her eyes dull and unseeing. She never spoke of her
+thoughts, but I have wondered often, since that big day of my young
+years, if she might not have recalled other voyages: the slave-ship
+putting out to sea with the African shores fading behind her; and the
+big river steamer at the New Orleans dock where brutal hands had hurled
+her from the deck into the dangerous floods of the Mississippi. This was
+her third voyage, a brief run from Fort Leavenworth to Independence. She
+was apart from her fellow-passengers as in the other two, but now nobody
+gave her a curse, nor a blow.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WIDENING HORIZON
+
+
+  Whose furthest footsteps never strayed
+    Beyond the village of his birth,
+  Is but a lodger for the night
+    In this old Wayside Inn of Earth.
+
+
+The broad green prairies of the West roll back in huge billows from the
+Missouri bluffs, and ripple gently on, to melt at last into the level
+grassy plains sloping away to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Up
+and down these land-waves, and across these ripples, the old Santa Fé
+Trail, the slender pathway of a wilderness-bridging commerce, led out
+toward the great Southwest--a thousand weary miles--to end at last,
+where the narrow thoroughfare reached the primitive hostelry at the
+corner of the plaza in the heart of the capital of a Spanish-Mexican
+demesne.
+
+It was a strange old highway, tying the western frontier of a new,
+self-reliant American civilization to the eastern limit of an autocratic
+European offshoot, grafted upon an ancient Indian stock of the Western
+Hemisphere. In language, nationality, social code, political faith, and
+prevailing spiritual creed, the terminals of this highway were as
+unlike as their geographical naming. For the trail began at
+_Independence_, in Missouri, and ended at Santa Fé, the "_City of the
+Holy Faith_," in New Mexico.
+
+The little trading town of Independence was a busy place in the frontier
+years of the Middle West. Ungentle and unlovely as it was, it was the
+great gateway between the river traffic on the one side, and the plains
+commerce of the far Southwest on the other. At the wharf at Westport,
+only a few miles away, the steamers left their cargoes of flour and
+bacon, coffee and calicoes, jewelry and sugar--whatever might have a
+market value to merchants beyond the desert lands. And here these same
+steamers took on furs, and silver bullion, and such other produce of the
+mountains and mines and open plains as the opulently laden caravans had
+toiled through long days, overland, to bring to the river's wharf.
+
+To-day the same old gateway stands as of yore. But it may be given only
+to men who have seen what I have seen, to know how that our Kansas City,
+the Beautiful, could grow up from that old wilderness outpost of
+commerce threescore and more years ago.
+
+The Clarenden store was the busiest spot in the center of this busy
+little town. Goods from both lines of trade entered and cleared here. In
+front of the building three Conestoga wagons with stout mule teams stood
+ready. A fourth wagon, the Dearborn carriage of that time, filled
+mostly with bedding, clothing, and the few luxuries a long camping-out
+journey may indulge in, waited only for a team, and we would be off to
+the plains.
+
+Jondo and Bill Banney were busy with the last things to be done before
+we started. Aunty Boone sat on a pile of pelts inside the store, smoking
+her pipe. Beverly and Mat stood waiting in the big doorway, while I sat
+on a barrel outside, because my ankle was still a bit stiff. A crowd had
+gathered before the store to see us off. It was not such a company as
+the soldier-men at the fort. The outlaw, the loafer, the drunkard, the
+ruffian, the gambler, and the trickster far outnumbered the stern-faced
+men of affairs. When the balance turns the other way the frontier
+disappears. Mingling with these was a pale-faced invalid now and then,
+with the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.
+
+"What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled with men.
+
+"Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle Esmond
+hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know, but he rigged
+this littler wagon out in a twinkle."
+
+"That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us children are
+to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the driving," Mat added.
+
+Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.
+
+"How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd inquired.
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he replied.
+"I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm in a hurry."
+
+"What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They tell me
+things look squally out West."
+
+"All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
+returned.
+
+"They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of more
+mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving class who
+sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.
+
+"These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They are
+all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle said.
+
+Women and children did not cross the plains in those days, nor could
+public welfare allow that so valuable a piece of property as Aunty Boone
+would be in the slave-market should be lost to commerce, and the storm
+of protest that followed would have overcome a less determined man. It
+was not on account of sympathy for the weak and defenseless that called
+out all this abuse, but the lawless spirit that stirs up a mob on the
+slightest excuse.
+
+I slid away to the door, where, with Mat and Beverly, I watched Esmond
+Clarenden, who was listening with his good-natured smile to all of that
+loud street talk.
+
+"No man's life is insurable in these troublesome times, with our troops
+right now down in Mexico," a suave Southern trader urged. "Better sell
+your slave and put that nice little gal in a boardin'-school somewhere
+in the South."
+
+"I'll give you a mighty good bargain for that wench, Clarenden. She
+might be worth a clare fortune in New Orleans. What d'ye say to a cool
+thousand?" another man declared, with a slow. Southern drawl.
+
+Aunty Boone took the pipe from her lips and looked at the stranger.
+
+"Y'would!" she grunted, stretching her big right hand across her lap,
+like a huge paw with claws ready underneath.
+
+"Them plains Injuns never was more _hostile_ than they air right now. I
+just got in from the mountains an' I know. An' they're bein' set on by
+more _hostile_ Mexican devils, and political _intrigs_," a bearded
+mountaineer trapper argued.
+
+"'Sides all that," interposed the suave Southern gentleman, "it's too
+early in the spring. Freightin's bound to be delayed by rains--and a
+nice little gal with only a nigger--" He was not quite himself, and he
+did not try to say more.
+
+"Seems like some of these gentlemen consider you are some sort of a
+fool," a tall, lean Yankee youth observed, as he listened to the babble.
+
+I had climbed back on the barrel again to see the crowd better, and I
+stared at the last speaker. His voice was not unpleasant, but he
+appeared pale and weak and spiritless in that company of tanned, rugged
+men. Evidently he was an invalid in search of health. We children had
+seen many invalids, from time to time, at the fort harmless folk, who
+came to fuss, and stayed to flourish, in our gracious land of the open
+air.
+
+"You are a dam' fool," roared a big drunken loafer from the edge of the
+crowd. "An' I'd lick you in a minnit if you das step into the middle of
+the street onct. Ornery sneak, to take innocent children into such
+perils. Come on out here, I tell ye!"
+
+A growl followed these words. Many men in that company were less than
+half sober, and utterly irresponsible.
+
+"Le's jes' hang the fool storekeepin' gent right now; an' make a
+free-fur-all holiday. I'll begin," the drunken ruffian bawled. He was of
+the sort that always leads a mob.
+
+The growl deepened, for blood-lust and drunkenness go together.
+
+Terrified for my uncle's safety, I stood breathless, staring at the
+evil-faced crowd of men going suddenly mad, without excuse. At the
+farthest edge of the insipient mob, sitting on his horse and watching my
+uncle's face intently, was the very Mexican whom I had twice seen at
+Fort Leavenworth. At the drunken rowdy's challenge, I thought that he
+half-lifted a threatening hand. But Esmond Clarenden only smiled, with a
+mere turn of his head as if in disapproval. In that minute I learned my
+first lesson in handling ruffians. I knew that my uncle was not afraid,
+and because of that my faith in his power to take care of himself came
+back.
+
+"I want to leave here in half an hour. If you have any good
+plains-broke mules you will sell for cash, I can do business with you
+right now. If not, the sooner you leave this place the better."
+
+He lifted his small, shapely hand unclenched, his good-natured smile and
+gentlemanly bearing unchanged, but his low voice was stronger than all
+the growls of the crowd that fell back like whipped dogs.
+
+As he spoke a horse-dealer, seeing the gathering before the store, came
+galloping up.
+
+"I'm your man. Money talks so I can understand it. Wait five minutes and
+ten seconds and I'll bring a whole strand of mules."
+
+A rattling of wagons and roar of voices at the far end of the street
+told of the arrival of a company coming in from the wharf at Westport,
+and the crowd whirled about and made haste toward the next scene of
+interest.
+
+Only two men remained behind, the tall New England youth and the Mexican
+on the farther side of the street sitting motionless on his horse. A
+moment later he was gone, and the street was empty save for the
+pale-faced invalid who had come over to the doorway where Mat and
+Beverly and I waited together.
+
+"Why don't you youngsters stay home with your mother, or is she going
+with you?" he asked, a gleam of interest lighting his dull face as he
+looked at Mat Nivers.
+
+"We haven't any of us got a mother," Mat replied, timidly, lifting her
+gray eyes to his.
+
+"Mother! Ain't you all one family?" the young man questioned in
+surprise.
+
+"No, we are three orphan children that Uncle Esmond has adopted all our
+lives, I guess." Beverly informed him.
+
+A wave of sympathy swept over his face.
+
+"You poor, lonely, unhappy cubs! You've never had a mother to love you!"
+he exclaimed, in kindly pity.
+
+"We aren't poor nor lonely nor unhappy. We have always had Uncle Esmond
+and we didn't need a mother," I exclaimed, earnestly.
+
+The young man stared at me as I spoke. "What's he, a bachelor or married
+man?" he inquired.
+
+"He couldn't be married and keep us, I reckon, and he's taking us with
+him so nothing will happen to us while he's gone. He's really truly
+Bev's uncle and mine, but he's just the same as uncle to Mat, who hasn't
+anybody else," I declared, enthusiastically. Uncle Esmond was my pride,
+and I meant that he should be fully appreciated.
+
+The Yankee gazed at all three of us, his eyes resting longest on Mat's
+bright face. The listlessness left his own that minute and a new light
+shone on his countenance. But when he turned to my uncle the seeming
+lack of all interest in living returned to his face again.
+
+"Say," he drawled, looking down at the stubborn little merchant from his
+slim six feet of altitude, "you are such a dam' fool as our friend, the
+tipsy one, says, that I believe I'll go along 'cross the plains with
+you, if you'll let me. I've not got a darned thing to lose out there but
+a sick carcass that I'm pretty tired of looking after," he went on,
+wearily. "I reckon I might as well see the fun through if I never set a
+hoof on old Plymouth Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at
+Lexington. Say"--he paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the
+bean-eaters who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth,
+there wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
+tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men myself make
+the same claim. But my granddad was the real article in the minute-men
+business. And I've always admired his grit most of any man in the world.
+He was about your shape, I reckon, from his picture that old man Copley
+got out. But, man! he wasn't a patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the
+preposterous-est unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just
+straight murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
+plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico, and I
+like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If you will, I'll
+deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've got only a little wad
+of money to get well on or die on. I can spend it either way--not much
+difference which. My name is Krane, Rex Krane, and in spite of such a
+floopsy name I hail from Boston, U.S.A."
+
+There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth, redeemed only
+by the twinkle in his eye.
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated men
+easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.
+
+"I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want to
+turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles or more on
+the trail. You can try it that far and see how you like it. I'll furnish
+you your board. There are always plenty of bedrooms on the ground floor
+and in one of the wagons on rainy nights. You can take a shift driving a
+team now and then, and every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some
+of the time. You understand the dangers of the situation by this time.
+Here comes my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a
+string of mules up the street.
+
+"Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.
+
+"I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the bargain
+was closed.
+
+Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and Aunty
+Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.
+
+"You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.
+
+"Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
+Clarenden replied.
+
+But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the crowd
+had been. The foolish risk of losing so valuable a piece of property as
+Daniel Boone ought to be in the slave-market taxed his powers of
+understanding, profanity, and abuse.
+
+"Cussin' solid, an' in streaks," Aunty Boone chuckled, softly, as she
+listened to him unmoved.
+
+Equally unmoved was Esmond Clarenden. But his genial smile and
+diplomatic power of keeping still did not prevent him from being as set
+as the everlasting hills in his own purpose.
+
+"This here critter is all I'll sell you," the trader declared at last,
+pulling a big white-eyed dun animal out of the group. "An' nobody's
+goin' to drive her easy."
+
+"I'll take it," Uncle Esmond said, promptly, and the vicious-looking
+beast was brought to where Aunty Boone stood beside the wagon-tongue.
+
+It was a clear case of hate at first sight, for the mule began to plunge
+and squeal the instant it saw her. The woman hesitated not a minute, but
+lifting her big ham-like foot, she gave it one broadside kick that it
+must have mistaken for a thunderbolt, and in that low purr of hers, that
+might frighten a jungle tiger, she laid down the law of the journey.
+
+"You tote me to Santy Fee, or be a dead mule. Take yo' choice right now!
+Git up!"
+
+For fifty days the one dependable, docile servant of the Clarendens was
+the big dun mule, as gentle and kitten-like as a mule can be.
+
+And so, in spite of opposing conditions and rabble protest and doleful
+prophecy and the assurance of certain perils, we turned our faces
+toward the unfriendly land of the sunset skies, the open West of my
+childish day-dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The prairies were splashed with showers and the warm black soil was
+fecund with growths as our little company followed the windings of the
+old trail in that wondrous springtime of my own life's spring. There
+were eight of us: Clarenden, the merchant; Jondo, the big plainsman;
+Bill Banney, whom love of adventure had lured from the blue grass of
+Kentucky to the prairie-grass of the West; Rex Krane, the devil-may-care
+invalid from Boston; and the quartet of us in the "baby cab," as Beverly
+had christened the family wagon. Uncle Esmond had added three swift
+ponies to our equipment, which Jondo and Bill found time to tame for
+riding as we went along.
+
+We met wagon-trains, scouts, and solitary trappers going east, but so
+far as we knew our little company was the only westward-facing one on
+all the big prairies.
+
+"It's just like living in a fairy-story, isn't it, Gail?" Beverly said
+to me one evening, as we rounded a low hill and followed a deep little
+creek down to a shallow fording-place. "All we want is a real princess
+and a real giant. Look at these big trees all you can, for Jondo says
+pretty soon we won't see trees at all."
+
+"Maybe we'll have Indians instead of giants," I suggested. "When do you
+suppose we'll begin to see the real _bad_ Indians; not just Osages and
+Kaws and sneaky little Otoes and Pot'wat'mies like we've seen all our
+lives?"
+
+"Sooner than we expect," Beverly replied. "Could Mat Nivers ever be a
+real princess, do you reckon?"
+
+"I know she won't," I said, firmly, the vision of that fateful day at
+Fort Leavenworth coming back as I spoke--the vision of level green
+prairies, with gray rocks and misty mountain peaks beyond. And
+somewhere, between green prairies and misty peaks, a sweet child face
+with big dark eyes looking straight into mine. I must have been a
+dreamer. And in my young years I wondered often why things should be so
+real to me that nobody else could ever understand.
+
+"I used to think long ago at the fort that I'd marry Mat some day,"
+Beverly said, reminiscently, as if he were looking across a lapse of
+years instead of days.
+
+"So did I," I declared. "But I don't want to now. Maybe our princess
+will be at the end of the trail, Bev, a real princess. Still, I love Mat
+just as if she were my sister," I hastened to add.
+
+"So do I," Beverly responded, heartily.
+
+A little grain of pity for her loss of prestige was mingling with our
+subconscious feeling of a need for her help in the day of the giant, if
+not in the reign of the princess.
+
+We were trudging along behind our wagon toward the camping-place for the
+night, which lay beyond the crossing of the stream. We had lived much
+out of doors at Fort Leavenworth, but the real out of doors of this
+journey was telling on us already in our sturdy, up-leaping strength, to
+match each new hardship. We ate like wolves, slept like dead things, and
+forgot what it meant to be tired. And as our muscles hardened our minds
+expanded. We were no longer little children. Youth had set its seal upon
+us on the day when our company had started out from Independence toward
+the great plains of the Middle West. Little care had we for the
+responsibility and perils of such a journey; and because our thoughts
+were buoyant our bodies were vigorous.
+
+Our camp that night was under wide-spreading elm-trees whose roots
+struck deep in the deep black loam. After supper Mat and Beverly went
+down to fish in the muddy creek. Fishing was Beverly's sport and solace
+everywhere. I was to follow them as soon as I had finished my little
+chores. The men were scattered about the valley and the camp was
+deserted. Something in the woodsy greenness of the quiet spot made it
+seem like home to me--the log house among the elms and cottonwoods at
+the fort. As I finished my task I wondered how a big, fine house such as
+I had seen in pictures would look nestled among these beautiful trees. I
+wanted a home here some day, a real home. It was such a pleasant place
+even in its loneliness.
+
+To the west the ground sloped up gently toward the horizon-line,
+shutting off the track of the trail beyond the ridge. A sudden longing
+came over me to see what to-morrow's journey would offer, bringing back
+the sense of being _shut in_ that had made me lose interest in fishes
+that wouldn't play leap-frog on the sand-bars. And with it came a
+longing to be alone.
+
+Instead of following Mat and Beverly to the creek I went out to the top
+of the swell and stood long in the April twilight, looking beyond the
+rim of the valley toward the darkening prairies with the great splendor
+of the sunset's afterglow deepening to richest crimson above the
+purpling shadows.
+
+Oh, many a time since that night have I looked upon the Kansas plains
+and watched the grandeur of coloring that only the Almighty artist ever
+paints for human eyes. And always I come back, in memory, to that April
+evening. The soul of a man must have looked out through the little boy's
+eyes on that night, and a new mile-stone was set there, making a
+landmark in my life trail. For when I turned toward the darkening east
+and the shadowy camp where the evening fires gleamed redly in the dusk,
+I knew then, as well as I know now, if I could only have put it into
+words, that I was not the same little boy who had run up the long slope
+to see what lay next in to-morrow's journey.
+
+I walked slowly back to the camp and sat down beside Esmond Clarenden.
+
+"What are you thinking about, Gail?" he asked, as I stared at the fire.
+
+"I wish I knew what would happen next," I replied.
+
+Jondo was lying at full length on the grass, his elbow bent, and his
+hand supporting his head. What a wonderful head it was with its crown of
+softly curling brown hair!
+
+"I wonder if we have done wrong by the children, Clarenden," the big
+plainsman said, slowly.
+
+Uncle Esmond shook his head as he replied:
+
+"I can't believe it. They may not be safe with us, but we know they
+would not have been safe without us."
+
+Just then Beverly and Mat came racing up from the creek bank.
+
+"Let us stay up awhile," Mat pleaded. "Maybe we'll be less trouble some
+of these days if we hear you talk about what's coming."
+
+"They are right, Jondo. Gail here wants to know what is coming next, and
+Mat wants a share in our councils. What do you want, Beverly?"
+
+"I want to practise shooting on horseback. I can hit a mark now standing
+still. I want to do it on the run," Beverly replied.
+
+I can see now the earnest look in Esmond Clarenden's eyes as he
+listened. I've seen it in a mother's eyes more than once since then, as
+she kissed her eldest-born and watched it toddle off alone on its first
+day of school; or held her peace, when, breaking home ties, the son of
+her heart bade her good-by to begin life for himself in the world
+outside.
+
+The last light of day was lost over the western ridge. The moon was
+beginning to swell big and yellow through the trees. Twilight was
+darkening into night. Bill Banney and Rex Krane had joined us now, for
+every hour we were learning to keep closer together. Jondo threw more
+wood on the fire, and we nestled about it in snug, homey fashion as if
+we were to listen to a fairy-tale--three children slipping fast out of
+childhood into the stern, hard plains life that tried men's souls. As we
+listened, the older men told of the perils as well as the fascinating
+adventures of trail life, that we might understand what lay before us in
+the unknown days. And then they told us stories of the plains, and of
+the quaint historic things of Santa Fé; of El Palacio, home of all the
+Governors of New Mexico; an Indian pueblo first, it may have been
+standing there when William the Norman conquered Harold of the Saxon
+dynasty of England; or further back when Charlemagne was hanging heathen
+by the great great gross to make good Christians of them; or even when
+old Julius Cæsar came and saw and conquered, on either side of the
+Rubicon, this same old structure may have sheltered rulers in a world
+unknown. They told us of the old, old church of San Miguel, a citadel
+for safety from the savage foes of Spain, a sanctuary ever for the
+sinful and sorrowing ones. And of the Plaza--sacred ground whereon by
+ceremonial form had been established deeds that should change the
+destinies of tribes and shape the trend of national pride and power in a
+new continent. And of La Garita, place of execution, facing whose blind
+wall the victims of the Spanish rule made their last stand, and,
+helpless, fell pierced by the bullets of the Spanish soldiery.
+
+And we children looked into the dying camp-fire and builded there our
+own castles in Spain, and hoped that that old flag to which we had
+thrown good-by kisses such a little while ago would one day really wave
+above old Santa Fé and make it ours to keep. For, young as we were, the
+flag already symbolized to us the protecting power of a nation strong
+and gentle and generous.
+
+"The first and last law of the trail is to 'hold fast,'" Jondo said, as
+we broke up the circle about the camp-fire.
+
+"If you can keep that law we will take you into full partnership
+to-night," Esmond Clarenden added, and we knew that he meant what he
+said.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE MAN IN THE DARK
+
+
+  A stone's throw from either hand,
+  From that well-ordered road we tread,
+  And all the world is wide and strange.
+                              --KIPLING
+
+
+"We shall come to the parting of the ways to night if we make good time,
+Krane," Esmond Clarenden said to the young Bostonian, as we rested at
+noon beside the trait. "To-night we camp at Council Grove and from there
+on there is no turning back. I had hoped to find a big crowd waiting to
+start off from that place. But everybody we have met coming in says that
+there are no freighters going west now. Usually there is no risk in
+coming alone from Council Grove to the Missouri River, and there is
+always opportunity for company at this end of the trail."
+
+We were sitting in a circle under the thin shade of some
+cottonwood-trees beside a little stream; the air of noon, hot above our
+heads, was tempered with a light breeze from the southwest. As my uncle
+spoke, Rex glanced over at Mat Nivers, sitting beside him, and then
+gazed out thoughtfully across the stream. I had never thought her
+pretty before. But now her face, tanned by the sun and wind, had a
+richer glow on cheek and lip. Her damp hair lay in little wavelets about
+her temples, and her big, sunny, gray eyes were always her best feature.
+
+Girls made their own dresses on the frontier, and I suppose that
+anywhere else Mat would have appeared old-fashioned in the neat,
+comfortable little gowns of durable gingham and soft woolen stuffs that
+she made for herself. But somehow in all that long journey she was the
+least travel-soiled of the whole party.
+
+At my uncle's words she looked up questioningly and I saw the bloom
+deepen on her cheek as she met the young man's eyes. Somebody else saw
+that shadow of a blush--Bill Banney lying on the ground beside me, and
+although he pulled his hat cautiously over his face, I thought he was
+listening for the answer.
+
+The young New-Englander stared long at the green prairie before he
+spoke. I never knew whether it was ignorance, or a lack of energy, that
+was responsible for his bad grammar in those early days, for Rex Krane
+was no sham invalid. The lines on his young face told of suffering, and
+the thin, bony hands showed bodily weakness. At length he turned to my
+uncle.
+
+"I started out sort of reckless on this trip," he said, slowly. "I'm
+nearly twenty and never been worth a dang to anybody anywhere on God's
+earth; so I thought I might as well be where things looked interestin'.
+But"--he hesitated--"I'm gettin' a lot stronger every day, a whole lot
+stronger. Mebby I'd be of some use afterwhile--I don't know, though. I
+reckon I'd better wait till we get to that Council Grove place. Sounds
+like a nice locality to rest and think in. Are you goin' on, anyhow,
+Clarenden, crowd or no crowd?"
+
+"Though the heavens fall," my uncle answered, simply.
+
+Jondo had turned quickly to hear this reply and a great light leaped
+into his deep-set blue eyes. I glanced over at Aunty Boone, sitting
+apart from us, as she ever chose to do, her own eyes dull, as they
+always were when she saw keenest; and I remembered how, back at Fort
+Leavenworth, she had commented on this journey, saying: "They tote
+together always, an' they're totin' now." Child though I was, I felt
+that a something more than the cargo of goods was leading my uncle to
+Santa Fé. What I did not understand was his motive for taking Beverly
+and Mat and me with him. I had been satisfied before just to go, but now
+I wanted very much to know why I was going.
+
+Council Grove by the Neosho River was the end of civilization for the
+freighter. Beyond it the wilderness spread its untamed lengths, and
+excepting Bent's Fort far up the Arkansas River on the line of the first
+old trail, rarely followed now, it held not a sign of civilization for
+the traveler until he should reach the first outposts of the Mexican
+almost in the shadow of Santa Fé. It is no wonder that wagon-trains
+mobilized here, waiting for an increase in numbers before they dared to
+start on westward. And now there were no trains waiting for our coming.
+Only a gripping necessity could have led a man like Esmond Clarenden to
+take the trail alone in the certain perils of the plains during the
+middle '40's. I did not know until long afterward how brave was the
+loving heart that beat in that little merchant's bosom. A devotee of
+ease and refinement, he walked the prairie trails unafraid, and made the
+desert serve his will.
+
+The dusk of evening had fallen long before we pitched camp that night
+under the big oak-trees in the Neosho River valley outside of the little
+trading-post. Up in the village a light or two gleamed faintly. From
+somewhere in the darkness came the sound of a violin, mingling with loud
+talking and boisterous laughter in a distant drinking-den. It would be
+some time until moon-rise, and the shadowy places thickened to
+blackness.
+
+In fair weather all of us except Mat Nivers slept in the open. On stormy
+nights the younger men occupied one of the wagons, Jondo and Beverly
+another, and my uncle and myself the third. Mat had the "baby-cab" as
+Beverly called it, with Aunty Boone underneath it. The ground was Aunty
+Boone's kingdom. She sat upon it, ate from it, slept on it, and seemed
+no more soiled than a snake would be by the contact with it.
+
+"Some day I goes plop under it, and be ground myself," she used to say.
+"Good black soil I make, too," she always added, with her low chuckle.
+
+To-night we were all in the wagons, for the spring rains had made the
+Neosho valley damp and muddy. I was just on the edge of dreamless
+slumber when a low voice that seemed to cut the darkness caught my ear.
+
+"Cla'nden! Cla'nden!" it hissed, softly.
+
+My uncle slipped noiselessly out to where Aunty Boone stood, her head so
+near to the canvas wagon-cover inside of which I lay that I could hear
+all that was said.
+
+She was always a night prowler. What other women learn now from the
+evening newspaper or from neighborly gossip she, being created without a
+sense of fear, went forth in her time and gathered at first hand.
+
+"I been prospectin' up 'round the saloon, Cla'nden. They's a nasty mess
+of Mexicans in town, all gettin' drunk."
+
+Then I heard a faint rustle of the bushes and I knew that the woman was
+slipping away to her place under the wagon. I remembered the Mexican
+whom I had last seen across the street from the Clarenden store in
+Independence. These were bad Mexicans, as Aunty Boone had said, and that
+man had seemed in a silent way a friend of my uncle. I wondered what
+would happen next. It soon happened. My uncle Esmond came inside the
+wagon and called, softly:
+
+"Gail, wake up."
+
+"I'm awake," I replied, in a half-whisper, as alert as a mystery-loving
+boy could be.
+
+"Slip over to Jondo and tell him there are Mexicans in town, and I'm
+going across the river to see what's up. Tell him to wake up everybody
+and have them stay in the wagons till I get back."
+
+He slid away and the shadows ate him. I followed as far as Jondo's
+wagon, and gave my message. As I came back something seemed to slip away
+before me and disappear somewhere. I dived into our wagon and crouched
+down, waiting with beating heart for Uncle Esmond to come back. Once I
+thought I heard the sound of a horse's feet on the trail to the
+eastward, but I was not sure.
+
+All was still and black in the little camp for a long time, and then
+Esmond Clarenden and Rex Krane crept into the wagon and dropped the flap
+behind them.
+
+"Krane, have you decided about this trip yet?" Uncle Esmond asked. "If
+not, you'd better get right up into town and forget us. You can't be too
+quick about it, either."
+
+"Ain't we going to stay here a few days? Why do you want to know
+to-night?"
+
+Rex Krane, Yankee-like, met the query with a query.
+
+"Because there's a pretty strong party of Mexican desperadoes here who
+are going on east, and they mean trouble for somebody. I shouldn't care
+to meet them with our strength alone. They are all pretty drunk now and
+getting wilder every minute. Listen to that!"
+
+A yell across the river broke the night stillness.
+
+"There is no telling how soon they may be over here, hunting for us. We
+must get by them some way, for I cannot risk a fight with them here.
+Which chance will you choose, the possibility of being overtaken by that
+Mexican gang going east, or the perils of the plains and the hostility
+of New Mexico right now? It's about as broad one way as the other for
+safety, with staying here for a time as the only middle course at
+present. But that is a perfectly safe one for you."
+
+"I am going on with you," Rex Krane said, with his slow Yankee drawl.
+"When danger gets close, then I scatter. There's more chance in seven
+hundred miles to miss somethin' than there is in a hundred and fifty.
+And even a half-invalid might be of some use. Say, Clarenden, how'd you
+get hold of this information? You turned in before I did."
+
+"Daniel Boone went out on scout duty--self-elected. You know she
+considers that the earth was made for her to walk on when she chooses to
+use it that way. She spied trouble ahead and came back, and gave me the
+key to the west door of Council Grove so I could get out early," my
+uncle replied.
+
+"I reckoned as much," Rex declared.
+
+In the dark I could feel Esmond Clarenden give a start.
+
+"What do you mean?" he inquired.
+
+"Oh, I saw the fat lady start out, so I followed her, but I located the
+nest of Mexicans before she did, and got a good deal out of their
+drunken jargon. And then I cat-footed it back after a snaky-looking,
+black Spaniard that seemed to be following her. There were three of us
+in a row, but the devil hasn't got the hindmost one, not yet--that's
+me."
+
+"You saw some one follow Daniel into camp?" my uncle broke in,
+anxiously. But no threatening peril ever hurried Rex Krane's speech.
+
+"Yes, and I also followed some one; but I lost him in this ink-well of a
+hole, and I was waitin' till he left so I could put the cat out, an'
+shut the door, when you cut across the river. I've been sittin' round
+now to see that nothin' broke loose till you got back. Meantime, the
+thing sort of faded away. I heard a horse gallopin' off east, too. Mebby
+they are outpostin' to surround our retreat. I didn't wake Bill. He's
+got no more imagination than Bev. If I had needed anybody I'd have
+stirred up Gail, here."
+
+In the dark I fairly swelled with pride, and from that moment Rex Krane
+was added to my little list of heroes that had been made up, so far, of
+Esmond Clarenden and Jondo and any army officer above the rank of
+captain.
+
+"Krane, you'll do. I thought I had your correct measure back in
+Independence," Uncle Esmond said, heartily. "As to the boys, I can risk
+them; they are Clarendens. My anxiety is for the little orphan girl. She
+is only a child. I couldn't leave her behind us, and I must not let a
+hair of her head be harmed."
+
+"She's a right womanly little thing," Rex Krane said, carelessly; but I
+wondered if in the dark his eyes might not have had the same look they
+had had at noon when he turned to Mat sitting beside my uncle. Maybe
+back at Boston he had a little sister of his own like her. Anyhow, I
+decided then that men's words and faces do not always agree.
+
+Again the roar of voices broke out, and we scrambled from the wagon and
+quickly gathered our company together.
+
+"What did you find out?" Jondo asked.
+
+"We must clear out of here right away and get through to the other side
+of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing it. They are a
+gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross the river if we should
+wait till morning. They have already sent a spy over here, and they are
+waiting for him to report."
+
+"Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.
+
+"They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of him
+went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into nothin' toward
+the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to me."
+
+Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further words,
+Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman would put through
+whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For Aunty Boone was right when
+she said, "They tote together."
+
+"We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't belong
+together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And remember now,
+Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with 'em, I'll do it
+myself," Jondo said.
+
+"Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter more," I
+urged, as we hastily broke camp.
+
+"He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives for
+nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned hesitatingly toward
+Mat Nivers.
+
+In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no wonder
+that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity of the plains
+in those days, when even as children we ran to meet danger with
+courageous daring.
+
+"You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own ford," Jondo
+commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the northwest side of
+town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody tries to stop you, ride like
+fury for the ridge."
+
+"Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me this
+side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll be gone.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred all of
+us.
+
+"You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you must run
+make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.
+
+"You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick man
+ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to John-the-Baptist this
+procession and air the parlor bedrooms."
+
+"Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the wagon
+with me," Bill Banney urged.
+
+"Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward, and I'm
+foot-loose. It's my job to give the address of welcome over t'other side
+of this Mexican settlement."
+
+The tall, thin young man slouched his cap carelessly on his head and
+strode away toward the river. Youth was reckless in those days, and the
+trail was the home of dramatic opportunity. But none of us had dreamed
+hitherto of Rex Krane's degree of daring and his stubborn will.
+
+The big yellow moon was sailing up from the east; the Neosho glistened
+all jet and silver over its rough bed; the great shadowy oaks looked
+ominously after us as we moved out toward the threatening peril before
+us. Slowly, as though she had time to kill, Aunty Boone sent the brown
+mule and trusty dun down to the river's rock-bottom ford. Slowly and
+unconcernedly she climbed the slope and passed up the single street
+toward the saloon she had already "prospected." Pausing a full minute,
+she swung toward a far-off cabin light to the south, jogging over the
+rough ground noisily. The door of the drinking-den was filled with dark
+faces as the crowd jostled out. Just a lone wagon making its way
+somewhere about its own business, that was all.
+
+As the crowd turned in again three ponies galloped up the street toward
+the slope leading out to the high level prairies beyond the Neosho
+valley. But who could guess how furiously three young hearts beat, and
+how tightly three pairs of young hands clutched the bridle reins as we
+surged forward, forgetting the advice to keep in the shadow.
+
+Just after we had crossed the river, a man on horseback fell in behind
+us. We quickened our speed, but he gained on us. Before we reached the
+saloon he was almost even with us, keeping well in the shadow all the
+while. In the increasing moonlight, making everything clear to the eye,
+I gave one quick glance over my shoulder and saw that the horseman was a
+Mexican. I have lived a life so fraught with danger that I should hardly
+remember the feeling of fear but for the indelible imprint of that one
+terrified minute in the moonlit street of Council Grove.
+
+Two ruffians on watch outside the saloon sprang up with yells. The door
+burst open and a gang of rowdies fairly spilled out around us. We three
+on our ponies had the instinctive security on horseback of children born
+to the saddle, else we should never have escaped from the half-drunken
+crew. I recall the dust of striking hoofs, the dark forms dodging
+everywhere, the Mexican rider keeping between us and the saloon door,
+and most of all I remember one glimpse of Mat Nivers's face with big,
+staring eyes, and firm-set mouth; and I remember my fleeting impression
+that she could take care of herself if we could; and over all a sudden
+shadow as the moon, in pity of our terror, hid its face behind a tiny
+cloud.
+
+When it shone out again we were dashing by separate ways up the steep
+slope to the west ridge, but, strangely enough, the Mexican horseman
+with a follower or two had turned away from us and was chasing off
+somewhere out of sight.
+
+Up on top of the bluff, with Rex Krane and Aunty Boone, we watched and
+waited. The wooded Neosho valley full of inky blackness seemed to us
+like a bottomless gorge of terror which no moonlight could penetrate. We
+strained our ears to catch the rattle of the wagons, but the noise from
+the saloon, coming faintly now and then, was all the sound we could hear
+save the voices of the night rising up from the river, and the
+whisperings of the open prairie to the west.
+
+In that hour Rex Krane became our good angel.
+
+"Keep the law, 'Hold fast'! You made a splendid race of it, and if
+Providence made that fellow lose you gettin' out, and led him and his
+gang sideways from you, I reckon she will keep on takin' care of you
+till Clarenden resumes control, so don't you worry."
+
+But for his brave presence the terror of that lonely watch would have
+been harder than the peril of the street, for he seemed more like a
+gentle mother than the careless, scoffing invalid of the trail.
+
+Midnight came, and the chill of midnight. We huddled together in our
+wagon and still we waited. Down in the village the lights still burned,
+and angry voices with curses came to our ears at intervals.
+
+Meantime the three men across the river moved cautiously, hoping that
+we were safe on the bluff, and knowing that they dared not follow us too
+rapidly. The wagons creaked and the harness rattled noisily in the night
+stillness, as slowly, one by one, they lumbered through the darkness
+across the river and up the bank to the village street. Here they halted
+and grouped together.
+
+"We must hide out and wait, Clarenden," Jondo counciled. "I hope
+the ponies and the wagon ahead are safe, but they stirred things up. If
+we go now we'll all be caught."
+
+The three wagons fell apart and halted wide of the trail where the
+oak-trees made the blackest shade. The minutes dragged out like hours,
+and the anxiety for the unprotected group on the bluff made the three
+men frantic to hurry on. But Jondo's patience equaled his courage, and
+he always took the least risk. It was nearly midnight, and every noise
+was intensified. If a mule but moved it set up a clatter of harness
+chains that seemed to fill the valley.
+
+At last a horseman, coming suddenly from somewhere, rode swiftly by each
+shadow-hidden wagon, half pausing at the sound of the mules stamping in
+their places, and then he hurried up the street.
+
+"Three against the crowd. If we must fight, fight to kill," Jondo urged,
+as the ready firearms were placed for action.
+
+In a minute or two the crew broke out of the saloon and filled the
+moonlit street, all talking and swearing in broken Spanish.
+
+"Not come yet!"
+
+"Pedro say they be here to-morrow night!" "We wait till to-morrow
+night!"
+
+And with many wild yells they fell back for a last debauch in the
+drinking-den.
+
+"I don't understand it," Jondo declared. "That fellow who rode by here
+ought to have located every son of us, but if they want to wait till
+to-morrow night it suits me."
+
+An hour later, when the village was in a dead sleep, three wagons slowly
+pulled up the long street and joined the waiting group at the top, and
+the crossing over was complete.
+
+Dawn was breaking as our four wagons, followed by the ponies, crept away
+in the misty light. As we trailed off into the unknown land, I looked
+back at the bluff below which nestled the last houses we were to see for
+seven hundred miles. And there, outlined against the horizon, a Mexican
+stood watching us. I had seen the same man one day riding up from the
+ravine southwest of Fort Leavenworth. I had seen him dashing toward the
+river the next day. I had watched him sitting across the street from the
+Clarenden store in Independence.
+
+I wondered if it might have been this man who had hung about our camp
+the evening before, and if it might have been this same man who rode
+between us and the saloon mob, leading the crowd after him and losing us
+on the side of the bluff. And as we had eluded the Council Grove danger,
+I wondered what would come next, and if he would be in it.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+
+
+  "So I draw the world together, link by link."
+                                      --KIPLING.
+
+
+Day after day we pushed into the unknown wilderness. No wagon-trains
+passed ours moving eastward. No moccasined track in the dust of the
+trail gave hint of any human presence near. Where to-day the Pullman car
+glides in smooth comfort, the old Santa Fé Trail lay like a narrow brown
+ribbon on the green desolation of Nature's unconquered domain. Out
+beyond the region of long-stemmed grasses, into the short-grass land, we
+pressed across a pathless field-of-the-cloth-of-green, gemmed with
+myriads of bright blossoms--broad acres on acres that the young years of
+a coming century should change into great wheat-fields to help fill the
+granaries of the world. How I reveled in it--that far-stretching plain
+of flower-starred verdure! It was my world--mine, unending, only
+softening out into lavender mists that rimmed it round in one unbroken
+fold of velvety vapor.
+
+At last we came to the Arkansas River--flat-banked, sand-bottomed,
+wide, wandering, impossible thing--whose shallow waters followed
+aimlessly the line of least resistance, back and forth across its bed.
+Rivers had meant something to me. The big muddy Missouri for
+Independence and Fort Leavenworth, that its steamers might bring the
+soldiers, and my uncle's goods to their places. The little rivers that
+ran into the big ones, to feed their currents for down-stream service.
+The creeks, that boys might wade and swim and fish, else Beverly would
+have lived unhappily all his days. But here was a river that could
+neither fetch nor carry. Nobody lived near it, and it had no deep waters
+like our beloved, ugly old Missouri. I loved the level prairies, but I
+didn't like that river, somehow. I felt exposed on its blank, treeless
+borders, as if I stood naked and defenseless, with no haven of cover
+from the enemies of the savage plains.
+
+The late afternoon was hot, the sky was dust-dimmed, the south wind
+feverish and strength-sapping. At dawn we had sighted a peak against the
+western horizon. We were approaching it now--a single low butte, its
+front a sheer stone bluff facing southward toward the river, it lifted
+its head high above the silent plains; and to the north it stretched in
+a long gentle slope back to a lateral rim along the landscape. The trail
+crept close about its base, as if it would cling lovingly to this one
+shadow-making thing amid all the open, blaring, sun-bound miles
+stretching out on either side of it.
+
+As Beverly and I were riding in front of Mat's wagon, of which we had
+elected ourselves the special guardians, Rex Krane came up alongside
+Bill Banney's team in front of us. The young men were no such
+hard-and-fast friends as Beverly and I. For some reason they had little
+to say to each other.
+
+"Is that what you call Pike's Peak, Bill?" Rex asked.
+
+"No, the mountains are a month away. That's Pawnee Rock, and I'll
+breathe a lot freer when we get out of sight of that infernal thing,"
+Bill replied.
+
+"What's its offense?" Rex inquired.
+
+"It's the peak of perdition, the bottomless pit turned inside out," Bill
+declared.
+
+"I don't see the excuse for a rock sittin' out here, sayin' nothin',
+bein' called all manner of unpleasant names," the young Bostonian
+insisted.
+
+"Well, I reckon you'd find one mighty quick if you ever heard the
+soldiers at Fort Leavenworth talk about it once. All the plainsmen dread
+it. Jondo says more men have been killed right around this old stone
+Sphinx than any other one spot in North America, outside of
+battle-fields."
+
+"Happy thought! Do their ghosts rise up and walk at midnight? Tell me
+more," Rex urged.
+
+"Nobody walks. Everybody runs. There was a terrible Indian fight here
+once; the Pawnees in the king-row, and all the hosts of the Midianites,
+and Hivites, and Jebusites, Kiowa, Comanche, and Kaw, rag-tag and
+bobtail, trying to get 'em out. I don't know who won, but the citadel
+got christened Pawnee Rock. It took a fountain filled with blood to do
+it, though."
+
+Rex Krane gave a long whistle.
+
+"I believe Bill is trying to scare him, Bev," I murmured.
+
+"I believe he's just precious wasting time," Beverly replied.
+
+"And so," Bill continued, "it came to be a sort of rock of execution
+where romances end and they die happily ever afterward. The Indians get
+up there and, being able to read fine print with ease as far away as
+either seacoast, they can watch any wagon-train from the time it leaves
+Council Grove over east to Bent's Fort on the Purgatoire Creek out west;
+and having counted the number of men, and the number of bullets in each
+man's pouch, they slip down and jump on the train as it goes by. If the
+men can make it to beat them to the top of the rock, as they do
+sometimes, they can keep the critters off, unless the Indians are strong
+enough to keep them up there and sit around and wait till they starve
+for water, and have to come down. It's a grim old fortress, and never
+needs a garrison. Indians or white men up there, sometimes they defend
+and sometimes attack. But it's a bad place always, and on account of
+having our little girl along--" Bill paused. "A fellow gets to see a lot
+of country out here," he added.
+
+"Banney, just why didn't you join the army? You'd have a chance to see a
+lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on," Rex Krane said,
+meditatively.
+
+"I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
+likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone please,"
+Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this country the most good.
+They are useful enough when they are useful, Lord knows. And we'll
+always need a decent few of 'em around to look after women and children,
+and invalids," he went on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden
+that's going to make these prairies worth something one of these days.
+The men who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
+That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about army
+folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight and measure,
+is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."
+
+Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.
+
+"Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead tired and
+this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due as soon as it lays
+a bit, and we would be sort of protected here. A tornado's a giant out
+in this country, you know."
+
+"This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling public,
+does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.
+
+"Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of it
+isn't a bad place to shoot from."
+
+"What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney inquired.
+
+"We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo assured us.
+"I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got to be careful. This
+point has a bad reputation, and I naturally begin to _feel_ Indians in
+the air as soon as I come in sight of it. If we need the law of the
+trail anywhere, we need it here," he admonished.
+
+Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of _bad_ Indians,
+but nothing had happened to us yet, and we could not believe that any
+danger was near us now, although we were foolishly half hoping that
+there might be, for the excitement of it.
+
+"There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill. Where
+would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were getting into camp
+order for the night.
+
+Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it had been
+in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and fishes playing
+leap-frog.
+
+"They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout lying flat
+on the top of old Pawnee Rock, up there, lookin' benevolently down at us
+over the rim of his spectacles right now," Bill replied, as he pulled
+the corral ropes out of the wagon.
+
+"What makes you think so?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"What Jondo said about his _feeling Indians_, I guess, but he reads
+these prairie trails as easy as Robinson Crusoe read Friday's footprints
+in the sand, and he hasn't read anything in 'em yet. Indians don't
+fight at night, anyhow. That's one good thing. Get hold of that rope,
+Bev, and pull her up tight," Bill replied.
+
+Every night our four wagons in camp made a hollow square, with space
+enough allowed at the corners to enlarge the corral inside for the
+stock. These corners were securely roped across from wagon to wagon.
+To-night, however, the corral space was reduced and the quartet of
+vehicles huddled closer together.
+
+At dusk the hot wind came sweeping in from the southwest, a wild,
+lashing fury, swirling the sand in great spirals from the river bed. Our
+fire was put out and the blackness of midnight fell upon us. The horses
+were restless and the mules squealed and stamped. All night the very
+spirit of fear seemed to fill the air.
+
+Just before daybreak a huge black storm-cloud came boiling up out of the
+southwest, with a weird yellow band across the sky before it. Overhead
+the stars shed a dim light on the shadowy face of the plains. A sudden
+whisper thrilled the camp, chilling our hearts within us.
+
+"Indians near!" We all knew it in a flash.
+
+Jondo, on guard, had caught the sign first. Something creeping across
+the trail, not a coyote, for it stood upright a moment, then bent again,
+and was lost in the deep gloom. Jondo had shifted to another angle of
+the outlook, had seen it again, and again at a third point. It was
+encircling the camp. Then all of us, except Jondo, began to see moving
+shapes. He saw nothing for a long time, and our spirits rose again.
+
+"You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he stared
+into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal wind. It's one
+darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."
+
+"I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big plainsman
+replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The trouble is that it is
+watching now. Everybody lay low. It will come to life again. I hope
+there's only one of it."
+
+We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about and
+fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.
+
+It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
+Something creeping near, and nearer.
+
+The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
+beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung like a
+weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a form rose from
+the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both arms toward us. And a
+low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our ears.
+
+Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their foes
+out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a little girl, no
+larger than our Mat--and again came the low call. The voice was Indian,
+the accent Spanish, but the words were English.
+
+"Come to us!" Esmond Clarenden answered back in a clear, low tone; and
+slowly and noiselessly the girl approached the camp.
+
+I can feel it all now, although that was many years ago: the soft
+starlight on the plains; the hot, still air holding its breath against
+the oncoming tornado; the group of wagons making a deeper shadow in the
+dull light; beyond us the bold front of old Pawnee Rock, huge and gray
+in the gloom; our little company standing close together, ready to hurl
+a shower of bullets if this proved but the decoy of a hidden foe; and
+the girl with light step drawing nearer. Clad in the picturesque garb of
+the Southwest Indian, her hair hanging in a great braid over each
+shoulder, her dark eyes fixed on us, she made a picture in that dusky
+setting that an artist might not have given to his brush twice in a
+lifetime on the plains.
+
+A few feet from us she halted.
+
+"Throw up your hands!" Jondo commanded.
+
+The slim brown arms were flung above the girl's head, and I caught the
+glint of quaintly hammered silver bracelets, as she stepped forward with
+that ease of motion that generations of moccasined feet on sand and sod
+and stone can give.
+
+"Take me," she cried, pleadingly. "The Mexicans steal me from my people
+and bring me far away. They meet Kiowa. Kiowa beat me; make me slave."
+
+She held up her hands. They were lacerated and bleeding. She slipped the
+bright blanket from her brown shoulder. It was bruised and swollen.
+
+"You go to Santa Fé? Take me. I do you good, not bad."
+
+"What would these Kiowas do to us, then?"
+
+It was Bill Banney who spoke.
+
+"They follow you--kill you."
+
+"Oh, cheerful! I wish you were twins," Rex Krane said, softly.
+
+Jondo lifted his hand.
+
+"Let me talk to her," he said.
+
+Then in her own language he got her story.
+
+"Here we are." He turned to us. "Stolen from her people by the Mexicans,
+probably the same ones we passed in Council Grove; traded to the Kiowas
+out here somewhere, beaten, and starved, and held for ransom, or trade
+to some other tribe. They are over there behind Pawnee Rock. They got
+sight of us somehow, but they don't intend to bother us. They are on the
+lookout for a bigger train. She has slipped away while they sleep. If we
+send her back she will be beaten and made a slave. If we keep her, they
+will follow us for a fight. They are fifty to our six. What shall we
+do?"
+
+"We don't need any Indians to help us get into trouble. We are sure
+enough of it without that," Bill Banney declared. "And what's one
+Indian, anyhow? She's just--"
+
+"Just a little orphan girl like Mat," Rex Krane finished his sentence.
+
+Bill frowned, but made no reply.
+
+The Indian girl was standing outside the corral, listening to all that
+was said, her face giving no sign of the struggle between hope and
+despair that must have striven within her.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances." Beverly's boyish
+voice had a defiant tone, for the spirit of adventure was strong within
+him. The girl turned quickly and a great light leaped into her eyes at
+the boy's words.
+
+"Save a life and lose ours. It's not the rule of the plains,
+but--there's a higher law like that somewhere, Clarenden," Jondo said,
+earnestly.
+
+The girl came swiftly toward Uncle Esmond and stood upright before him.
+
+"I will not hide the truth. I go back to Kiowas. They sell me for big
+treasure. They will not harm you," she said. "I stay with you, they say
+you steal me, and they come at the first bird's song and kill you every
+one. They are so many."
+
+She stood motionless before him, the seal of grim despair on her young
+face.
+
+"What's your name?" Esmond Clarenden asked. "Po-a-be. In your words,
+'Little Blue Flower,'" the girl said.
+
+"Then, Little Blue Flower, you must stay with us."
+
+She pointed toward the eastern sky where a faint light was beginning to
+show above the horizon. "See, the day comes!"
+
+"Then we will break camp now," my uncle said.
+
+"Not in the face of this storm, Clarenden," Jondo declared. "You can
+fight an Indian. You can't do a thing but 'hold fast' in one of these
+hurricanes."
+
+The air was still and hot. The black cloud swept swiftly onward, with
+the weird yellow glow before it. In the solitude of the plains the trail
+showed like a ghostly pathway of peril. Before us loomed that grim rock
+bluff, behind whose crest lay the sleeping band of Kiowas. It was only
+because they slept that Little Blue Flower could steal away in hope of
+rescue.
+
+Hotter grew the air and darker the swiftly rolling clouds; black and
+awful stood old Pawnee Rock with the silent menace of its sleeping
+enemy. In the stillness of the pause before the storm burst we heard
+Jondo's voice commanding us. With our first care for the frightened
+stock, we grouped ourselves together as he ordered close under the
+bluff.
+
+Suddenly an angry wind leaped out of the sky, beating back the hot dead
+air with gigantic flails of fury. Then the storm broke with tornado rage
+and cloudburst floods, and in its track terror reigned. Beverly and I
+clung together, and, holding a hand of each, Mat Nivers crouched beside
+us, herself strong in this second test of courage as she had been in the
+camp that night at Council Grove.
+
+I have never been afraid of storms and I can never understand why timid
+folk should speak of them as of a living, self-directing force bent
+purposely on human destruction. I love the splendor of the lightning and
+the thunder's peal. From our earliest years, Beverly and Mat and I had
+watched the flood-waters of the Missouri sweep over the bottomlands, and
+we had heard the winds rave, and the cannonading of the angry heavens.
+But this mad blast of the prairie storm was like nothing we had ever
+seen or heard before. A yellow glare filled the sky, a half-illumined,
+evil glow, as if to hide what lay beyond it. One breathed in fine sand,
+and tasted the desert dust. Behind it, all copper-green, a broad, lurid
+band swept up toward the zenith. Under its weird, unearthly light, the
+prairies, and everything upon them, took on a ghastly hue. Then came the
+inky-black storm-cloud--long, funnel-shaped, pendulous--and in its
+deafening roar and the thick darkness that could be felt, and the awful
+sweep of its all-engulfing embrace, the senses failed and the very
+breath of life seemed beaten away. The floods fell in streams, hot, then
+suddenly cold. And then a fusillade of hail bombarded the flat prairies,
+defenseless beneath the munitions of the heavens. But in all the wild,
+mad blackness, in the shriek and crash of maniac winds, in the swirl of
+many waters, and chill and fury of the threshing hail, the law of the
+trail failed not: "Hold fast." And with our hands gripped in one
+another's, we children kept the law.
+
+Just at the moment when destruction seemed upon us, the long swinging
+cloud--funnel lifted. We heard it passing high above us. Then it dropped
+against the face of old Pawnee Rock, that must have held the trail law
+through all the centuries of storms that have beaten against its bold,
+stern front. One tremendous blast, one crashing boom, as if the
+foundations of the earth were broken loose, and the thing had left us
+far behind.
+
+Daylight burst upon us in a moment, and the blue heavens smiled down on
+the clean-washed prairies. No homes, no crops, no orchards were left in
+ruins in those days to mark the cyclone's wrath on wilderness trails. As
+the darkness lifted we gathered ourselves together to take hold of life
+again and to defend ourselves from our human enemy.
+
+A shower of arrows from the top of the bluff might rain upon us at any
+moment, yelling warriors might rush upon us, or a ring of riders
+encircle us. It was in times like this that I learned how quickly men
+can get the mastery.
+
+Jondo and Esmond Clarenden did not delay a minute in protecting the camp
+and setting it in order, taking inventory of the lost and searching for
+the missing. Three of our number, with one of the ponies, were missing.
+
+Aunty Boone had crouched in a protected angle at the base of the bluff,
+and when we found her she was calmly smoking her pipe.
+
+"Yo' skeered of this little puff?" she queried. "Yo' bettah see a simoon
+on the desset, then. This here--just a racket. What's come of that
+little redskin?"
+
+She was not to be found. Nor was there any trace of Rex Krane anywhere.
+In consternation we scanned the prairies far and wide, but only level
+green distances were about us, holding no sign of life. We lived hours
+in those watching minutes.
+
+Suddenly Beverly gave a shout, and we saw Little Blue Flower running
+swiftly from the sloping side of the bluff toward the camp. Behind her
+stalked the young New-Englander.
+
+"I went up to see what she was in such a hurry for to see," he
+explained, simply. "I calculated it would be as interestin' to me as to
+her, and if anything was about to cut loose"--he laid a hand carelessly
+on his revolver--"why, I'd help it along. The little pink pansy, it
+seems, went to look after our friends, the enemy," Rex went on. "The
+hail nearly busted that old rock open. I thought once it had. The ponies
+are scattered and likewise the Kiowas. Gone helter-skelter, like
+the--tornado. The thing hit hard up there. Some ponies dead, and mebby
+an Indian or two. I didn't hunt 'em up. I can't use 'em that way," he
+added. "So I just said, 'Pax vobiscum!' and a lot of it, and came
+kittering back."
+
+Little Blue Flower's eyes glistened.
+
+"Gone, all gone. The rain god drove them away. Now I know I may go with
+you. The rain god loves you."
+
+It was to Beverly, and not to my uncle, that her eyes turned as she
+spoke, but he was not even listening to her. To him she was merely an
+Indian. She seemed more than that to me, and therein lay the difference
+between us.
+
+If she had been interesting under the starlight, in the light of day she
+became picturesque, a beautiful type of her race, silent, alert of
+countenance, with big, expressive, black eyes, and long, heavy braids of
+black hair. With her brilliant blanket about her shoulders, a turquoise
+pendant on a leather band at her throat, silver bracelets on her brown
+arms, she was as pleasing as an Indian maiden could be--adding a touch
+of picturesque life to that wonderful journey westward from Pawnee Rock
+to Santa Fé. Aunty Boone alone resented her presence among us.
+
+"You can trust a nigger," she growled, "'cause you know they none of 'em
+no 'count. But you can't tell about this Injun, whether she's good or
+bad. I lets that sort of fish alone."
+
+Little Blue Flower looked up at her with steady gaze and made no reply.
+
+Out of that morning's events I learned a lasting lesson, and I know now
+that the influence of Rex Krane on my life began that day, as I recalled
+how he had followed Aunty Boone about the dark corners of the little
+trading-post on the Neosho; and how he had looked at Mat Nivers once
+when Uncle Esmond had suggested his turning back to Independence; and
+how he had gone before all of us, the vanguard, to the top of the bluff
+west of Council Grove; and now he had followed this Indian girl. From
+that time I knew in my boy heart that this tall, careless Boston youth
+had a zealous care for the safety of women and children. How much care,
+events would run swiftly on to show me. But welded into my life from
+that hour was the meaning of a man's high, chivalric duty. And among all
+the lessons that the old trail taught to me, none served me more than
+this one that came to me on that sweet May morning beneath the shadow of
+Pawnee Rock.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+SPYING OUT THE LAND
+
+
+  City of the Holy Faith,
+    In thy streets so dim with age,
+  Do I read not Faith's decay,
+    But the Future's heritage.
+                        --LILIAN WHITING.
+
+
+Day was passing and the shadows were already beginning to grow purple in
+the valleys, long before the golden light had left the opal-crowned
+peaks of the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains beyond them.
+
+On the wide crest of a rocky ridge our wagons halted. Behind us the long
+trail stretched back, past mountain height and cañon wall, past barren
+slope and rolling green prairie, on to where the wooded ravines hem in
+the Missouri's yellow floods.
+
+Before us lay a level plain, edged round with high mesas, over which
+snowy-topped mountain peaks kept watch. A sandy plain, checkered across
+by verdant-banded arroyos, and splotched with little clumps of trees and
+little fields of corn. In the heart of it all was Santa Fé, a mere group
+of dust-brown adobe blocks--silent, unsmiling, expressionless--the
+city of the Spanish Mexican, centuries old and centuries primitive.
+
+As our tired mules slackened their traces and drooped to rest after the
+long up-climb, Esmond Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, children. Yonder is the end of the trail."
+
+We gathered eagerly about him, a picture in ourselves, maybe, in an age
+of picturesque things; four men, bronzed and bearded; two sturdy boys;
+Mat Nivers, no longer a little girl, it seemed now, with the bloom of
+health on her tanned cheeks, and the smile of good nature in wide gray
+eyes; beside her, the Indian maiden, Little Blue Flower, slim, brown,
+lithe of motion, brief of speech; and towering back of all, the
+glistening black face of the big, silent African woman.
+
+So we stood looking out toward that northwest plain where the trail lost
+itself among the low adobe huts huddled together beside the glistening
+waters of the Santa Fé River.
+
+Rex Krane was the first to speak.
+
+"So that's what we've come out for to see, is it?" he mused, aloud.
+"That's the precious old town that we've dodged Indians, and shot
+rattlesnakes, and sunburnt our noses, and rain-soaked our dress suits
+for! That's why we've pillowed our heads on the cushiony cactus and
+tramped through purling sands, and blistered our hands pullin' at
+eider-down ropes, and strained our leg-muscles goin' down, and busted
+our lungs comin' up, and clawed along the top edge of the world with
+nothin' but healthy climate between us and the bottom of the bottomless
+pit. Humph! That's what you call Santa Fé! 'The city of the Holy Faith!'
+Well, I need a darned lot of 'holy faith' to make me see any city there.
+It's just a bunch of old yellow brick-kilns to me, and I 'most wish now
+I'd stayed back at Independence and hunted dog-tooth violets along the
+Big Blue."
+
+"It's not Boston, if that's what you were looking for; at least there's
+no Bunker Hill Monument nor Back Bay anywhere in sight. But I reckon
+it's the best they've got. I'm tired enough to take what's offered and
+keep still," Bill Banney declared.
+
+I, too, wanted to keep still. I had only a faint memory of a real city.
+It must have been St. Louis, for there was a wharf, and a steamboat and
+a busy street, and soft voices--speaking a foreign tongue. But the
+pictures I had seen, and the talk I had heard, coupled with a little
+boy's keen imagination, had built up a very different Santa Fé in my
+mind. At that moment I was homesick for Fort Leavenworth, through and
+through homesick, for the first time since that April day when I had sat
+on the bluff above the Missouri River while the vision of the plains
+descended upon me. Everything seemed so different to-night, as if a gulf
+had widened between us and all the nights behind us.
+
+We went into camp on the ridge, with the journey's goal in plain view.
+And as we sat down together about the fire after supper we forgot the
+hardships of the way over which we had come. The pine logs blazed
+cheerily, and as the air grew chill we drew nearer together about them
+as about a home fireside.
+
+The long June twilight fell upon the landscape. The piñon and scrubby
+cedars turned to dark blotches on the slopes. The valley swam in a
+purple mist. The silence of evening was broken only by a faint bird-note
+in the bushes, and the fainter call of some wild thing stealing forth at
+nightfall from its daytime retreat. Behind us the mesas and headlands
+loomed up black and sullen, but far before us the Sangre-de-Christo
+Mountains lifted their glorified crests, with the sun's last radiance
+bathing them in crimson floods.
+
+We sat in silence for a long time, for nobody cared to talk. Presently
+we heard Aunty Boone's low, penetrating voice inside the wagon corral:
+
+"You pore gob of ugliness! Yo' done yo' best, and it's green corn and
+plenty of watah and all this grizzly-gray grass you can stuff in now.
+It's good for a mule to start right, same as a man. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The low voice trailed off into weird little whoops of approval. Then the
+woman wandered away to the edge of the bluff and sat until late that
+night, looking out at the strange, entrancing New Mexican landscape.
+
+"To-morrow we put on our best clothes and enter the city," my uncle
+broke the silence. "We have managed to pull through so far, and we
+intend to keep on pulling till we unload back at Independence again.
+But these are unsafe times and we are in an unsafe country. We are going
+to do business and get out of it again as soon as possible. I shall ask
+you all to be ready to leave at a minute's notice, if you are coming
+back with me!"
+
+"Now you see why I didn't join the army, don't you, Krane?" Bill Banney
+said, aside. "I wanted to work under a real general."
+
+Then turning to my uncle, he added:
+
+"I'm already contracted for the round trip, Clarenden."
+
+"You are going to start back just as if there were no dangers to be
+met?" Rex Krane inquired.
+
+"As if there were dangers to be _met_, not run from," Esmond Clarenden
+replied.
+
+"Clarenden," the young Bostonian began, "you got away from that drunken
+mob at Independence with your children, your mules, and your big Daniel
+Boone. You started out when war was ragin' on the Mexican frontier, and
+never stopped a minute because you had to come it alone from Council
+Grove. You shook yourself and family right through the teeth of that
+Mexican gang layin' for you back there. You took Little Trailing Arbutus
+at Pawnee Rock out of pure sympathy when you knew it meant a fight at
+sun-up, six against fifty. And there would have been a bloody one, too,
+but for that merciful West India hurricane bustin' up the show. You
+pulled us up the Arkansas River, and straddled the Gloriettas, with
+every danger that could ever be just whistlin' about our ears. And now
+you sit there and murmur softly that 'we are in an unsafe country and
+these are unsafe times,' so we'd better be toddlin' back home right
+soon. I want to tell _you_ something now."
+
+He paused and looked at Mat Nivers. Always he looked at Mat Nivers, who
+since the first blush one noonday long ago, so it seemed, now, never
+appeared to know or care where he looked. He must have had such a sister
+himself; I felt sure of that now.
+
+"I want to tell _you_," Rex repeated, "that I'm goin' to stay with you.
+There's something _safe_ about you. And then," he added, carelessly, as
+he gazed out toward the darkening plain below us, "my mother always said
+you could tie to a man who was good to children. And you've been good to
+this infant Kentuckian here."
+
+He flung out a hand toward Bill Banney without looking away from the
+open West. "When you want to start back to God's country and the land of
+Plymouth Rocks and Pawnee Rocks, I'm ready to trot along."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said. "I shall
+need all the help I can get on the way back. Because we got through
+safely we cannot necessarily count on a safe return. I may need you in
+Santa Fé, too."
+
+"Then command me," Rex replied.
+
+He looked toward Mat again, but she and Little Blue Flower were coiling
+their long hair in fantastic fashion about their heads, and laughing
+like school-girls together.
+
+Little Blue Flower was as a shy brown fawn following us. She had a way
+of copying Mat's manner, and she spoke less of Indian and Spanish and
+more of English from day to day. She had laid aside her Indian dress for
+one of Mat's neat gingham gowns. I think she tried hard to forget her
+race in everything except her prayers, for her own people had all been
+slain by Mexican ruffians. We could not have helped liking her if we had
+tried to do so. Yet that invisible race barrier that kept a fixed gulf
+between us and Aunty Boone separated us also from the lovable little
+Indian lass, albeit the gulf was far less deep and impassable.
+
+To-night when she and Mat scampered away to the family wagon together,
+she seemed somehow to really belong to us.
+
+Presently Jondo and Rex Krane and Bill and Beverly rolled their blankets
+about them and went to sleep, leaving Esmond Clarenden and myself alone
+beside the dying fire. The air was sharp and the night silence deepened
+as the stars came into the skies.
+
+"Why don't you go to bed, Gail?" my uncle asked.
+
+"I'm not sleepy. I'm homesick," I replied. "Come here, boy." He opened
+his arms to me, and I nestled in their embrace.
+
+"You've grown a lot in these two months, little man," he said, softly.
+"You are a brave-hearted plainsman, and a good, strong little limb when
+it comes to endurance, but just once in a while all of us need a
+mothering touch. It keeps us sweet, my boy. It keeps us sweet and fit to
+live."
+
+Oh, many a time in the years that followed did the loving embrace and
+the gentle words of this gentle, strong man come back to comfort me.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Gail. I'm going to need a boy like you to
+help me a lot before we leave Santa Fé, and I shall count on you."
+
+Just then a noise at the far side of the corral seemed to disturb the
+stock. A faint stir of awakening or surprise--just a hint in the air.
+All was still in a moment. Then it came again. We listened. Something,
+an indefinite something, somewhere, was astir. The surprise became
+unrest, anxiety, fear, among the mules.
+
+"Wait here, Gail. I'll see what's up," Uncle Esmond said, in a low
+voice.
+
+He hurried away toward the corral and I slipped back in the shadow of a
+rock and leaned against it to wait.
+
+In the dim beams of a starlit New Mexican sky I could see clearly out
+toward the valley, but behind the camp all was darkness. As I waited,
+hidden by the shadows, suddenly the flap of the family-wagon cover
+lifted and Little Blue Flower slid out as softly as a cat walks in the
+dust. She was dressed in her own Indian garb now, with her bright
+blanket drawn picturesquely about her head and shoulders. Silently she
+moved about the camp, peering toward the shadows hiding me. Then with
+noiseless step she slipped toward where Beverly Clarenden lay, his
+boyish face upturned to the stars, sleeping the dreamless sleep of
+youth and health. I leaned forward and stared hard as the girl
+approached him. I saw her drop down on one knee beside him, and, bending
+over him, she gently kissed his forehead. She rose and gave one hurried
+look around the place and then, like a bird lifting its wings for
+flight, she threw up her arms, and in another moment she sprang to the
+edge of the ridge and slipped from view. I followed, only to see her
+gliding swiftly away, farther and farther, along the dim trail, until
+the shadows swallowed her from my sight.
+
+A low whinny from the corral caught my ear, followed by a rush of
+horses' feet. As I slipped into my place again to wait for my uncle to
+return, the smoldering logs blazed out suddenly, lighting up the form of
+a man who appeared just beyond the fire, so that I saw the face
+distinctly. Then he, too, was gone, following the way the Indian girl
+had taken, until he lost himself in the misty dullness of the plains.
+
+Presently Esmond Clarenden came back to the camp-fire.
+
+"Gail, the pony we lost in that storm at Pawnee Rock has come back to
+us. It was standing outside the corral, waiting to get in, just as if it
+had lost us for a couple of hours. It is in good condition, too."
+
+"How could it ever get here?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Any one of a dozen ways," my uncle replied. "It may have run far that
+stormy morning when it broke out of the corral, and possibly some party
+coming over the Cimarron Trail picked it up and roved on this way. There
+is no telling how it got here, since it keeps still itself about the
+matter. Losing and finding and losing again is the law of events on the
+plains."
+
+"But why should it find us right here to-night, like it had been led
+back?" I insisted.
+
+"That's the miracle of it, Gail. It is always the strange thing that
+really happens here. In years to come, if you ever tell the truth about
+this trip, it will not be believed. When this isn't the frontier any
+longer, the story of the trail will be accounted impossible."
+
+Everything seemed impossible to me as I sat there staring at the dying
+fire. Presently I remembered what I had seen while my uncle was away.
+
+"Little Blue Flower has run away," I said, "and I saw the Mexican that
+came to Fort Leavenworth the day before I twisted my ankle. He slipped
+by here just a minute ago. I know, for I saw his face when the logs
+flared up."
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most remarkable
+memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he said.
+
+"Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony after
+us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I ever see him
+before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"
+
+"You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But dreams
+don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are needed."
+
+"Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.
+
+"Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it comes to
+doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a bit reckless
+sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them level."
+
+"Don't I do, too?" I inquired.
+
+"Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you mustn't
+forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must
+fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who come after us may be
+the better for our having them. What was it you said about Little Blue
+Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten her for the moment.
+
+"She's gone to Santa Fé, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle Esmond? Tell me all
+about things," I urged.
+
+"We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
+freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't know
+what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just felt Indian, as
+Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you, Gail, that it may have been
+the Mexican who got our pony for us. He is a strange fellow, walks like
+a cat, has ears like a timber wolf, and the cunning of a fox."
+
+"Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me an
+important message, and he waited at Independence to see us off. Do you
+remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council Grove? I think he
+followed the Mexican spy across the river to our camp and sent him on
+east. Then he went back and got the crowd all mixed up by his report,
+while their own man scouted the trail out there for miles all night. He
+is the man who put you through town and decoyed the ruffians to one
+side. He located us after we had crossed the river, and then broke up
+their meeting and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That
+is the way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
+and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.
+
+"Sooner or later however," my uncle went on, "we will have to reckon
+with that Kiowa tribe for stealing their captive. They meant to return
+her for a big ransom price.... Great Heavens, Gail! You seem like a man
+to me to-night instead of my little boy back at the fort. The plains
+bring years to us instead of months, with just one crossing. I am
+counting on you not to tell all you've been told and all you've seen. I
+can be sure of you if you can keep things to yourself. You'd better get
+to sleep now. There will be plenty to see over in Santa Fé. And there is
+always danger afoot. But remember, it is the coward who finds the most
+trouble in this world. Do your part with a gentleman's heart and a
+hero's hand, and you'll get to the end of every trail safely. Now go to
+bed."
+
+Where I lay that night I could see a wide space of star-gemmed sky, the
+blue night-sky of the Southwest, and I wondered, as I looked up into
+the starry deeps, how God could keep so many bright bodies afield up
+there, and yet take time to guard all the wandering children of men.
+
+With the day-dawn the strange events of the night seemed as unreal as
+the vanishing night-shadows. The bluest skies of a blue-sky land curved
+in fathomless majesty over the yellow valley of the Santa Fé. Against
+its borders loomed the silent mountain ranges--purple-shaddowed,
+silver-topped Ortiz and Jemez, Sandia and Sangre-de-Christo. Dusty and
+deserted lay the trail, save that here and there a group of dark-faced
+carriers of firewood prodded on their fagot-laden burros toward the
+distant town. As our wagons halted at the sandy borders of an arroyo the
+brown-clad form of a priest rose up from the shade of a group of scrubby
+piñon-trees beside the trail.
+
+Esmond Clarenden lifted his hat in greeting.
+
+"Are you going our way? We can give you a ride," he paused to say.
+
+The man's face was very dark, but it was a young, strong face, and his
+large, dark eyes were full of the fire of life. When he spoke his voice
+was low and musical.
+
+"I thank you. I go toward the mountains. You stay here long?"
+
+"Only to dispose of my goods. My business is brief," Esmond Clarenden
+declared.
+
+The good man leaned forward as if to see each face there, sweeping in
+everything at one glance. Then he looked down at the ground.
+
+"These are troublesome days. War is only a temporary evil, but it makes
+for hate, and hate kills as it dies. Love lives and gives life." A smile
+lighted his eyes, though his lips were firm. "I wish you well. Among
+friends or enemies the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+Uncle Esmond bowed his head reverently.
+
+"You will find it beside the trail near the river. The walls are very
+old and strong, but not so old as hate, nor so strong as love. A little
+street runs from it, crooked--six houses away. Peace be to all of you."
+He broke off suddenly and his last sentence was spoken in a clear,
+strong tone unlike the gentler voice.
+
+"I thank you, Father!" Jondo said, as the priest passed his wagon.
+
+The holy man gave him one swift, searching glance. Then lifting his
+right hand as if in blessing, and slowly dropping it until the
+forefinger pointed toward the west, he passed on his way.
+
+Jondo's brown cheek flushed and the lines about his mouth grew hard.
+
+"Take my place, Bev," he said, as he left his wagon and joined Esmond
+Clarenden.
+
+The two spoke earnestly together. Then Jondo mounted Beverly's pony.
+
+"If you need me--" I heard him say, and he turned away and rode in the
+direction the priest had taken.
+
+Uncle Esmond offered no explanation for this sudden action, and his
+sunny face was stern.
+
+Usually wagon-trains were spied out long before they reached the city,
+and a rabble attended their entry. To-day we moved along quietly until
+the trail became a mere walled lane. On either side one-story adobe huts
+sat with their backs to the street. No windows opened to the front, and
+only a wooden door or a closed gateway stared in blank unfriendliness at
+the passer-by. Little straggling lanes led off aimlessly on either side,
+as narrow and silent as the strange terminal of the long trail itself.
+
+I was only a boy, with the heart of a boy and the eyes of a boy. I could
+only feel; I could not understand the spell of that hour. But to me
+everything was alluring, wrapt as it was in the mystery of a
+civilization old here when Plymouth Rock felt the first Pilgrim's foot,
+or Pawnee Rock stared at the first bold plainsman of the pale face and
+the conquering soul.
+
+I was riding beside Beverly's wagon as we neared the quaint,
+centuries-old, adobe church of San Miguel, rising tall and silent above
+the low huts about it, its rough walls suggesting a fortress of
+strength, while its triple towers might be an outlook for a guardsman.
+
+"Look at that church. Bev, I wonder how old it is," I exclaimed.
+
+"I should say about a thousand years and a day," Beverly declared. "See
+that flopsy steeple thing! It looks like building-blocks stacked up
+there."
+
+"Maybe this is the sanctuary that priest was talking about," I
+suggested. "He said the walls were old as hate and strong as love, with
+a crooked street beside it somewhere."
+
+"Oh, you sponge! Soaking up everything you see and hear. I wonder you
+sleep nights for fear the wind will tell the pine trees something you'll
+miss," Beverly declared. "I can tell a horse's age by its teeth, but
+churches don't have teeth. Go and ask Mat about it. She knows when the
+De Sotos and Cortéses and all the other Spanish grandaddees came to
+Mexico."
+
+I had just turned back alongside of Mat's wagon--she was always our book
+of ready reference--when a little girl suddenly dashed out of a walled
+lane opening into the street behind us. She stopped in the middle of the
+road, almost under my pony's feet, then with a shout of laughter she
+dashed into the deep doorway of the church and stood there, peering out
+at me with eyes brimful of mischief.
+
+I brought my pony back on its haunches suddenly. I had seen this girl
+before. The big dark eyes, the straight little nose, the curve of the
+pink cheek, the china-smooth chin and neck, and, crowning all, the cloud
+of golden hair shading her forehead and falling in tangled curls behind.
+
+I did not notice all these features now. It was only the eyes, dark
+eyes, somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, and maybe the halo of
+hair that had been in my vision on that day when Beverly and Mat Nivers
+and I sat on the parade-ground facing a sudden turn in our life trail.
+
+I stared at the eyes now, only half conscious that the girl was laughing
+at me.
+
+"You big brown bob-cat! You look like you had slept in the Hondo 'royo
+all your life," she cried, and turned to run away again.
+
+As she did so a dark face peered round the corner of the church from the
+crooked street beside it. A sudden gleam of white teeth and glistening
+eyes, a sudden leap and grip, and a boy, larger than Beverly, caught the
+little girl by the shoulders and shook her viciously.
+
+She screamed and struggled. Then, with a wild shriek as he clutched at
+her curls, she wrenched herself away and plunged inside the church. The
+boy dived in after her. Another scream, and I had dropped from my pony
+and leaped across the road. I pushed open the door against the two
+struggling together. With one grip at his coat-collar I broke his hold
+on the little girl and flung him outside.
+
+I have a faint recollection of a priest hurrying down the aisle toward
+the fighting children, as the little girl, freed from her assailant,
+dashed out of the door.
+
+"He jumped at her first, and shook her and pulled her hair," I cried, as
+the priest caught me by the shoulder. "I'm not going to see anybody
+pitched into, not a little girl, anyhow."
+
+I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At the
+corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her eyes
+blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her face.
+
+"I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and"--her voice softened and the defiant
+eyes grew mischievous--"you aren't a bob-cat. You're a--Look out!"
+
+She shouted the last words and disappeared up the narrow, crooked
+street, just as a fragment of rock whizzed over my shoulder. I jumped on
+my pony to dash away, when another rock just missed my head, and I saw
+the boy, Marcos, beside the church, ready for a third hurl. His black
+eyes flashed fire, and the grin of malice on his face showed all his
+fine white teeth.
+
+I was as mad as a boy can be. Instead of fleeing, I spurred my pony
+straight at him.
+
+"You little beast, I dare you to throw that rock at me! I dare you!" I
+cried.
+
+The boy dropped the missile and sped away after the girl. I followed in
+time to see them enter a doorway, six or seven houses up the way. Then I
+turned back, and in a minute I had overtaken our wagons trailing down to
+the ford of the Santa Fé River.
+
+"I thought mebby you'd gone back after Jondo and that holy podder," Rex
+Krane greeted me. "Better begin to wink naturally and look a little
+pleasanter now. We'll be in the Plazzer in two or three minutes."
+
+The drivers flourished their whips, the mules caught their spirit, and
+with bump and lurch and rattle we swung down the narrow crack between
+adobe walls that ended before the old Exchange Hotel at the corner of
+the Plaza.
+
+This open square in the center of the city was shaded by trees and
+littered with refuse. The Palace of the Governors fronted it along the
+entire north side, a long, low, one-story structure whose massive adobe
+walls defy the wearing years. Compared to the kingly palaces of my
+imagination, this royal dwelling seemed a very commonplace thing, and
+the wide portal, or veranda, that ran along its front looked like one of
+the sheds about the barracks at the fort rather than an entranceway for
+rulers. Yet this was the house of a ruler hostile to that flag to which
+I had thrown a good-by kiss, up at Fort Leavenworth.
+
+On the other three sides of the Plaza were other low adobe buildings,
+for the business of the city faced this central square.
+
+A crowd was gathered there when we reached it. Somebody standing before
+the Palace of the Governors was haranguing in fiery Spanish, if gesture
+and oral vehemence are true tokens.
+
+As our wagons rumbled up to the corner of the square the crowd broke up
+with a shout.
+
+"Los Americanos! Los Carros!"
+
+The cry went up everywhere as the rabble left the speaker to flock about
+us--men, women, children, Mexican, Spanish, Indian, with now and then a
+Saxon face among them. Our outfit was as well appointed as such a
+journey's end permitted. We were in our best clothes--clean-shaven
+gentlemen, well-dressed boys, and one girl, neat and comely in a
+dark-blue gown of thin stuff with white lace at throat and wrist; and
+last, and biggest of all, Aunty Boone, in a bright-green lawn with
+little white dots all over it.
+
+As I sat on my pony beside my uncle's wagon, I caught sight of the slim
+figure of Little Blue Flower, well back in the shade of the Plaza. She
+was watching Beverly, who sat in Jondo's wagon, staring at the crowd and
+seeing no one in particular. A minute later a tall young Indian boy
+stepped in front of her, and when he moved away she was gone.
+
+Many men came forward to greet Esmond Clarenden, and there were many
+inquiries regarding his goods and many exclamations of surprise that he
+had come alone with so valuable a cargo.
+
+It was the first time that Beverly and I had seen him among his equals.
+At Fort Leavenworth, where the army overruled everything else, men stood
+above him in authority or below him in business affairs; and while he
+never cringed to the one, nor patronized the other, where there are no
+competitors there are no true measures. That day in the Plaza of Santa
+Fé the merchant was in his own kingdom, where commerce stood above
+everything else.
+
+Moreover, this American merchant, following a danger-girt trail, had
+come in fearlessly, and those men of the Plaza knew that he was one to
+exact value for value in all his dealings. But I believe that his real
+power lay in his ready smile, his courtesy, his patience, and his
+up-bubbling good nature that made him a friendship-builder.
+
+Among the men who came to make acquaintance with the American trader was
+a Mexican merchant. Evidently he was a man of some importance, for an
+interpreter hastened to introduce him, explaining that this man had been
+away on a journey of some weeks among the mines of New Mexico and the
+Southwest, and only the day before he had come in from Taos.
+
+"You will find him a prince of merchants, a sound, unprejudiced business
+man. His name is Felix Narveo," the American interpreter added.
+
+The two men shook hands, greeting each other in the Spanish tongue. This
+Felix Narveo was well dressed and well groomed, but I recognized him at
+once as the Mexican of Fort Leavenworth and Independence and Council
+Grove.
+
+There was one man in that company, however, who did not come forward at
+all. When I first caught sight of him he was looking at me. I stared
+back at him with a boy's curiosity, but he did not take his eyes from me
+until I had dropped my own. After that I watched him keenly. He seemed
+almost too fair for a Mexican--a tall, spare-built man with black hair,
+and eyes so steely blue that they were almost black. Everywhere I saw
+him--at the corners of the little crowd and in the thick of it. He was
+an easy mark, for he towered above the rest, and, being slender, he
+seemed to worm his way quickly from place to place. At sight of him,
+Aunty Boone, who had been peering out with shining eyes, drew her head
+in as quick as a snake, under the shadow of the wagon cover, and her
+eyes grew dull. He had not seen her, but I could see that he was
+watching the remainder of us, and especially my uncle; and I began to
+feel afraid of him and to wish that he would leave the Plaza. It was
+years ago that all this happened, and yet to-day my fear of that man
+still sticks in my memory.
+
+When he turned away, suddenly I caught sight of the boy, whom I had
+flung out of the church, standing behind him, the boy whom the little
+girl had called Marcos. Although his face was dark and the man's was
+fair, there was a strong likeness between the two.
+
+This Marcos stared insolently at all of us. Then with a laugh and a
+grimace at me, he ran after the man and they disappeared together around
+the corner of the Palace of the Governors. And in the rush of strange
+sights I forgot them both for a time.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+"SANCTUARY"
+
+
+  Our dwelling-place in all generations.--Psalms xc, 1.
+
+
+They are wonderful to me still--those few brief days that followed.
+While Esmond Clarenden was forcing his business transactions to a speedy
+climax, he was all the time foreseeing Santa Fé under the United States
+Government. He had not come here as a spy, nor a speculator, but as a
+commerce-builder, knowing that the same business life would go on when
+the war cloud lifted, and that the same men who had made the plains
+commerce profitable under the Mexican flag would not be exiled when the
+Stars and Stripes should float above the old Palace of the Governors.
+Belief in the ethics of his calling and trust in manhood were ever a
+large part of his stock in trade, making him dare to go where he chose
+to go, and to do what he willed to do.
+
+But no concern for commerce nor extension of national territory
+disturbed our young minds in those sunlit days, as Mat and Beverly and I
+looked with the big, quick-seeing eyes of youth on this new strange
+world at the end of the trail.
+
+We were all together in the deserted dining-room on our first evening in
+Santa Fé when the man whom I had seen on the Plaza strolled leisurely
+in. He sat down at one of the farthest tables from us, and his eyes,
+glistening like blue-black steel, were fixed on us.
+
+Once at Fort Leavenworth I had watched in terror as a bird fluttered
+helplessly toward a still, steel-eyed snake holding it in thrall. And
+just at the moment when its enemy was ready to strike, Jondo had
+happened by and shot the snake's head off. The same terror possessed me
+now, and I began half-consciously to long for Jondo.
+
+In the midst of new sights I had hardly thought of him since he had left
+us out beyond the big arroyo. He had come into town at dusk, but soon
+after supper he had disappeared. His face was very pale, and his eyes
+had a strange look that never left them again. Something was different
+in Jondo from that day, but it did not change his gentle nature toward
+his fellow-men. During our short stay in Santa Fé we hardly saw him at
+all. We children were too busy with other things to ask questions, and
+everybody but Rex Krane was too busy to be questioned. Having nothing
+else to do, Rex became our chaperon, as Uncle Esmond must have foreseen
+he would be when he measured the young man in Independence on the day we
+left there.
+
+To-night Esmond Clarenden, smiling and good-natured, paid no heed to the
+sharp eyes of this stranger fixed on him.
+
+"What's the matter now, little weather-vane? You are always first to
+sense a coming change," he declared.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, I saw that man watching us like he knew us, out there on
+the Plaza to-day. Who is he?" I asked, in a low tone.
+
+"His name is Ferdinand Ramero. You will find him watching everywhere.
+Let that man alone as you would a snake," my uncle warned us.
+
+"Is that his boy?" I asked.
+
+"What boy?" Uncle Esmond inquired.
+
+"Marcos, the boy I pitched endways out of the church. He's bigger than
+Bev, too," I declared, proudly.
+
+"Gail Clarenden, are you crazy?" Uncle Esmond exclaimed.
+
+"No, I'm not," I insisted, and then I told what had happened at the
+church, adding, "I saw Marcos with that man in the Plaza, and they went
+away together."
+
+Esmond Clarenden's face grew grave.
+
+"What kind of a looking child was she, Gail?" he asked, after a pause.
+
+"Oh, she had yellow hair and big sort of dark eyes! She could squeal
+like anything. She wasn't a baby girl at all, but a regular little
+fighter kind of a girl."
+
+I grew bashful all at once and hesitated, but my uncle did not seem to
+hear me, for he turned to Rex Krane and said, in low, earnest tones:
+
+"Krane, if you can locate that child for me you will do me an invaluable
+service. It was largely on her account that I came here now, and it's a
+god-send to have a fellow like you to save time for me. Every man has
+his uses. Your service will be a big one to me."
+
+The young man's face flushed and his eyes shone with a new light.
+
+"If any of you happen to see that girl let me know at once," my uncle
+said, turning to us, "but, remember, don't act as if you were hunting
+for her."
+
+"I know now right where she lives. It's up a crooked street by that
+church. I saw her run in there," I insisted.
+
+"Every hut looks like every other hut, and every little Mex looks like
+every other little Mex," Beverly declared.
+
+Uncle Esmond smiled, but the stern lines in his face hardly broke as he
+said, earnestly, "Keep your eyes open and, whatever you do, stay close
+to Krane while Bill helps me here, and don't forget to watch for that
+little girl when you are sight-seeing."
+
+"There's not much to see, as Bev says, but the outside of 'dobe walls
+five feet thick," Rex Krane observed. "But if you know which wall to
+look through, the lookin' may be easy enough. Seein' things is my
+specialty, and we'll get this princess if we have to slay a giant and an
+ogre and take a few dozen Mexican scalps first. The plot just thickens.
+It's a great game." The tall New-Englander would not take life seriously
+anywhere, and, with our trust in his guardianship, we could want no
+better chaperon.
+
+That night Beverly Clarenden and I were in fairyland.
+
+"It's the princess, Bev, the princess we were looking for," I joyously
+asserted. "And, oh, Bev, she is beautiful, but snappy-like, too. She
+called me a 'big brown bob-cat', and then she apologized, just as nice
+as could be."
+
+"And this little Marcos cuss, he'll be the ogre," Beverly declared. "But
+who'll we have for the giant? That priest, footing it out by that dry
+creek-thing they call a 'royo?"
+
+"Oh no, no! He and Jondo made up together, and Jondo's nobody's bad man
+even in a story. It will be that Ferdinand Ramero," I insisted. "But,
+say, Bev, Jondo wrote a new name on the register this evening, or
+somebody wrote it for him, maybe. It wasn't his own writing. 'Jean
+Deau.' I saw it in big, round, back-slanting letters. Why did he do
+that?"
+
+"Well, I reckon that's his real name in big, round, back-slanting
+letters down here," Beverly replied. "It's French, and we have just been
+spelling it like it sounds, that's all."
+
+"Well, maybe so," I commented, and when I fell asleep it was to dream of
+a princess and Jondo by a strange name, but the same Jondo.
+
+The air of New Mexico puts iron into the blood. The trail life had
+hardened us all, but the finishing touch for Rex Krane came in the
+invigorating breath of that mountain-cooled, sun-cleansed atmosphere of
+Santa Fé. Shrewd, philosophic, brave-hearted like his historic ancestry,
+he laid his plans carefully now, sure of doing what he was set to do.
+And the wholesome sense of really serving the man who had measured his
+worth at a glance gave him a pleasure he had not known before. Of
+course, he moved slowly and indifferently. One could never imagine Rex
+Krane hurrying about anything.
+
+"We'll just 'prospect,' as Daniel Boone says," he declared, as he
+marshaled us for the day. "We are strangers, sight-seein', got no other
+business on earth, least of all any to take us up to this old San Miguel
+Church for unholy purposes. 'Course if we see a pretty little dark-eyed,
+golden-haired lassie anywhere, we'll just make a diagram of the spot
+she's stand'n' on, for future reference. We're in this game to win, but
+we don't do no foolish hurryin' about it."
+
+So we wandered away, a happy quartet, and the city offered us strange
+sights on every hand. It was all so old, so different, so silent, so
+baffling--the narrow, crooked street; the solid house-walls that hemmed
+them in; the strange tongue, strange dress, strange customs; the absence
+of smiling faces or friendly greetings; the sudden mystery of seeking
+for one whom we must not seem to seek, and the consciousness of an
+enemy, Ferdinand Ramero, whom we must avoid--that it is small wonder
+that we lived in fairyland.
+
+We saw the boy, Marcos, here and there, sometimes staring defiantly at
+us from some projected angle; sometimes slipping out of sight as we
+approached; sometimes quarreling with other children at their play. But
+nowhere, since the moment when I had seen the door close on her up that
+crooked street beside the old church, could we find any trace of the
+little girl.
+
+In the dim morning light of our fifth day in Santa Fé, a man on
+horseback, carrying a big, bulky bundle in his arms, slipped out of the
+crooked, shadow-filled street beside the old church of San Miguel. He
+halted a moment before the structure and looked up at the ancient crude
+spire outlined against the sky, then sped down the narrow way by the
+hotel at the end of the trail. He crossed the Plaza swiftly and dashed
+out beyond the Palace of the Governors and turned toward the west.
+
+Aunty Boone, who slept in the family wagon--or under it--in the
+inclosure at the rear of the hotel, had risen in time to peer out of the
+wooden gate just as the rider was passing. It was still too dark to see
+the man's face distinctly, but his form, and the burden he carried, and
+the trappings of the horse she noted carefully, as was her habit.
+
+"Up to cussedness, that man is. Mighty long an' slim. Lemme see! Humph!
+I know _him_. I'll go wake up somebody."
+
+As the woman leaned far out of the gate she caught sight of a little
+Indian girl crouching outside of the wall.
+
+"You got no business here, you, Little Blue Flower! Where do you live
+when you _do_ live?"
+
+Little Blue Flower pointed toward the west.
+
+"Why you come hangin' 'round here?" the African woman demanded.
+
+"Father Josef send me to help the people who help me," she said, in her
+soft, low voice.
+
+"Go back to your own folks, then, and tell your Daddy Joseph a man just
+stole a big bunch of something and rode south with it. He can look after
+that man. We can get along somehow. Now go."
+
+The voice was like a growl, and the little Indian maiden shrank back in
+the shadow of the wall. The next minute Aunty Boone was rapping softly
+on the door of the room whose guest had registered as Jean Deau. Ten
+minutes later another horseman left the street beside the hotel and
+crossed the Plaza, riding erect and open-faced as only Jondo could ride.
+Then the African woman sought out Rex Krane, and in a few brief
+sentences told him what had been taking place. All of which Rex was far
+too wise to repeat to Beverly and me.
+
+That afternoon it happened that we left Mat Nivers at the hotel, while
+Rex Krane and Beverly and I strolled out of town on a well-beaten trail
+leading toward the west.
+
+"It looks interestin'. Let's go on a ways," Rex commented, lazily.
+
+Nobody would have guessed from his manner but that he was indulgently
+helping us to have a good time with certain restriction as to where we
+should go, and what we might say, nor that, of the three, he was the
+most alert and full of definite purpose.
+
+We sat down beside the way as a line of burros loaded with firewood from
+the mountains trailed slowly by, with their stolid-looking drivers
+staring at us in silent unfriendliness.
+
+The last driver was the tall young Indian boy whom I had seen standing
+in front of Little Blue Flower in the crowd of the Plaza. He paid no
+heed to our presence, and his face was expressionless as he passed us.
+
+"Stupid as his own burro, and not nearly so handsome," Beverly
+commented.
+
+The boy turned quietly and stared at my cousin, who had not meant to be
+overheard. Nobody could read the meaning of that look, for his face was
+as impenetrable as the adobe walls of the Palace of the Governors.
+
+"Bev, you are laying up trouble. An Indian never forgets, and you'll be
+finding that fellow under your pillow every night till he gets your
+scalp," Rex Krane declared, as we went on our way.
+
+Beverly laughed and stiffened his sturdy young arms.
+
+"He's welcome to it if he can get it," he said, carelessly. "How many
+million miles do we go to-day, Mr. Krane?"
+
+"Yonder is your terminal," Rex replied, pointing to a little settlement
+of mud huts huddling together along the trail. "They call that little
+metropolis Agua Fria--'pure water'--because there ain't no water there.
+It's the last place to look for anybody. That's why we look there. You
+will go in like gentlemen, though--and don't be surprised nor make any
+great noise over anything you see there. If a riot starts I'll do the
+startin'."
+
+Carelessly as this was said, we understood the command behind it.
+
+Near the village, I happened to glance back over the way we had come,
+and there, striding in, soft-footed as a cat behind us, was that young
+Indian. I turned again just as we reached the first straggling houses at
+the outskirts of the settlement, but he had disappeared.
+
+It was a strange little village, this Agua Fria. Its squat dwellings,
+with impenetrable adobe walls, had sat out there on the sandy edge of
+the dry Santa Fé River through many and many a lagging decade; a single
+trail hardly more than a cart-width across ran through it. A church,
+mud-walled and ancient, rose above the low houses, but of order or
+uniformity of outline there was none. Hands long gone to dust had shaped
+those crude dwellings on this sunny plain where only man decays, though
+what he builds endures.
+
+Nobody was in sight and there was something awesome in the very silence
+everywhere. Rex lounged carelessly along, as one who had no particular
+aim in view and was likely to turn back at any moment. But Beverly and I
+stared hard in every direction.
+
+At the end of the village two tiny mud huts, separated from each other
+by a mere crack of space, encroached on this narrow way even a trifle
+more than the neighboring huts. As we were passing these a soft Hopi
+voice called:
+
+"Beverly! Beverly!" And Little Blue Flower, peeping shyly out from the
+narrow opening, lifted a warning hand.
+
+"The church! The church!" she repeated, softly, then darted out of
+sight, as if the brown wall were but thick brown vapor into which she
+melted.
+
+"Why, it's our own little girl!" Beverly exclaimed, with a smile, just
+as Little Blue Flower turned away, but I am sure she caught his words
+and saw his smile.
+
+We would have called to her, but Rex Krane evidently did not hear her,
+for he neither halted nor turned his head. So, remembering our command
+to be quiet, we passed on.
+
+"I guess we are about to the end of this 'pure water' resort. It's
+gettin' late. Let's go back home now," our leader said, dispiritedly. So
+we turned back toward Santa Fé.
+
+At the narrow opening where we had seen Little Blue Flower the young
+Indian boy stood upright and motionless, and again he gave no sign of
+seeing us.
+
+"Let's just run over to that church a minute while we are here. Looks
+interestin' over there," Rex suggested.
+
+I wondered if he could have heard Little Blue Flower, and thought her
+suggestion was a good one, or if this was a mere whim of his.
+
+The church, a crude mission structure, stood some distance from the
+trail. As we entered a priest came forward to meet us.
+
+"Can I serve you?" he asked.
+
+The voice was clear and sweet--the same voice that we had heard out
+beyond the arroyo southeast of town, the same face, too, that we had
+seen, with the big dark eyes full of fire. Involuntarily I recalled how
+his hand had pointed to the west when he had pronounced a blessing that
+day.
+
+"Thank you, Father--" Rex began.
+
+"Josef," the holy man said.
+
+"Yes, thank you, Father Josef. We are just looking at things. No wish to
+be rude, you know."
+
+Rex lifted his cap and stood bareheaded in the priestly presence.
+
+Father Josef smiled.
+
+"Look here, then."
+
+He led us up the aisle to where, cuddled down on a crude seat, a little
+girl lay asleep. Her golden hair fell like a cloud about her face,
+flowing over the edge of the seat almost to the floor. Her cheeks were
+pink and warm, and her dimpled white hands were clasped together. I had
+caught Mat Nivers napping many a time, but never in my life had I seen
+anything half so sweet as this sleeping girl in the beauty of her
+innocence. And I knew at a glance that this was the same girl whom I had
+seen before at the door of the old Church of San Miguel.
+
+"Same as grown-ups when the sermon is dull. Thank you, Father Josef.
+It's a pretty picture. We must be goin' now." Rex Krane dropped some
+silver in the priest's hand and we left the church.
+
+At the door we passed the Indian boy again, and a third time he gave no
+sign of seeing us. I was the only one who was troubled, however, for Rex
+and Beverly did not seem to notice him. As we left the village I caught
+sight of him again following behind us.
+
+"Look there, Bev," I said, in a low voice. Beverly glanced back, then
+turned and stared defiantly at the boy.
+
+"Maybe Rex knows about Indians," he said, lightly. "That's three times I
+found him fooling around in less than an hour, but my scalp is still
+hanging over one ear."
+
+He pushed back his cap and pulled at his bright brown locks. Happy Bev!
+How headstrong, brave, and care-free he walked the plains that day.
+
+The evening shadows were lengthening and the peaks of the
+Sangre-de-Christo range were taking on the scarlet stains of sunset when
+we raced into town at last. Rex Krane went at once to find Uncle Esmond,
+and Beverly and I hurried to the hotel to tell Mat of all that we had
+seen.
+
+Her gray eyes were glowing when she met us at the door and led us into a
+corner where we could talk by ourselves.
+
+"Uncle Esmond has sold everything to that Mexican merchant, Felix
+Narveo, and we are going to start home just as soon as he can find that
+little girl."
+
+"Oh, we've found her! We've found her!" Beverly burst out. But Mat
+hushed him at once.
+
+"Don't yell it to the sides, Beverly Clarenden. Now listen!" Mat dropped
+her voice almost to a whisper. "He's going to take that little girl back
+with us as far as Fort Leavenworth, and then send her on to St. Louis
+where she has some folks, I guess."
+
+"Isn't he a clipper, though," Beverly exclaimed.
+
+"But what if the Indians should get us?" I asked, anxiously. "I heard
+the colonel at Fort Leavenworth just give it to Uncle Esmond one night
+for bringing us."
+
+"You are safe or you are not safe everywhere. And if we got in here I
+reckon we can get out," Mat reasoned, philosophically. "And Uncle Esmond
+isn't afraid and he's set on doing it. We aren't going to take any goods
+back, so we can travel lots faster, and everything will be put in the
+wagons so we can grab out what's worth most in a hurry if we have to."
+
+So we talked matters over now as we had done on that April day out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. But now we knew something of what
+might be before us on that homeward journey. Thrilling hours those were.
+It is no wonder that, schooled by their events, young as we were, we put
+away childish things.
+
+That night while we slept things happened of which we knew nothing for
+many years. There was no moon and the glaring yellow daytime plain was
+full of gray-edged shadows, under the far stars of a midnight blue sky,
+as Esmond Clarenden took the same trail that we had followed in the
+afternoon. On to the village of Agua Fria, black and silent, he rode
+until he came to the church door. Here he dismounted, and, quickly
+securing his horse, he entered the building. The chill midnight wind
+swept in through the open door behind him, threatening to blot out the
+flickering candles about the altar. Father Josef came slowly down the
+aisle to meet him, while a tall man, crouching like a beast about to
+spring, rather than a penitent at prayer, shrank down in the shadowy
+corner inside the doorway.
+
+The merchant, solid and square-built and fearless, stood before the
+young priest baring his head as he spoke.
+
+"I come on a grave errand, good Father. This afternoon my two nephews
+and a young man from New England came in here and saw a child asleep
+under protection of this holy sanctuary. That child's name is Eloise St.
+Vrain. I had hoped to find her mother able to care for her. She--cannot
+do it, as you know. I must do it for her now. I come here to claim what
+it is my duty to protect."
+
+At these words the crouching figure sprang up and Ferdinand Ramero, his
+steel-blue eyes blazing, came forward with cat-like softness. But the
+sturdy little man before the priest stood, hat in hand, undisturbed by
+any presence there.
+
+"Father Josef," the tall man began, in a voice of menace, "you will not
+protect this American here. I have confessed to you and you know that
+this man is my enemy. He comes, a traitor to his own country and a spy
+to ours. He has risked the lives of three children by bringing them
+across the plains. He comes alone where large wagon-trains dare not
+venture. He could not go back to the States now. And lastly, good
+Father, he has no right to the child that he claims is here."
+
+"To the child that is here, asleep beside our sacred altar," Father
+Josef said, sternly.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned upon the priest fiercely.
+
+"Even the Church might go too far," he muttered, threateningly.
+
+"It might, but it never has," the holy man agreed. Then turning to
+Esmond Clarenden, he continued: "You must see that these charges do not
+stand against you. Our Holy Church offers no protection, outside of
+these four walls, to a traitor or a spy or even an unpatriotic
+speculator seeking to profit by the needs of war. Nor could it sanction
+giving the guardianship of a child to one who daringly imperils his own
+life or the lives of children, nor can it sanction any rights of
+guardianship unless due cause be given for granting them."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero smiled as the priest concluded. He was a handsome man,
+with the sort of compelling magnetism that gives controlling power to
+its possessor. But because I knew my uncle so well in after years, I can
+picture Esmond Clarenden as he stood that night before the young priest
+in the little mud-walled church of Agua Fria. And I can picture the
+tall, threatening man in the shadows beside him. But never have I held
+an image of him showing a sign of fear.
+
+"Father Josef, I am willing to make any explanation to you. As for this
+man whom you call Ramero here--up in the States he bears another name
+and I finished with him there six years ago--I have no time nor breath
+to waste on him. Are these your demands?" my uncle asked.
+
+"They are," Father Josef replied.
+
+"Do I take away the little girl, Eloise, unmolested, if you are
+satisfied?" Esmond Clarenden demanded, first making sure of his bargain,
+like the merchant he was.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero stiffened insolently at these words, and looked
+threateningly at Father Josef.
+
+"You do," the holy man replied, something of the flashing light in his
+eyes alone revealing what sort of a soldier the State had lost when this
+man took on churchly orders.
+
+"I am no traitor to my flag, since my full commerical purpose was
+known and sanctioned by the military authority at Fort Leavenworth
+before I left there. I brought no aid to my country's enemy because my
+full cargo was bargained for by your merchant, Felix Narveo, before the
+declaration of war was made. I merely acted as his agent bringing his
+own to him. I have come here as a spy only in this--that I shall profit
+in strictly legitimate business by the knowledge I hold of commercial
+conditions and my acquaintance with your citizens when this war for
+territory ends, no matter how its results may run. I deal in wholesome
+trade, not in human hate. I offer value for value, not blood for blood."
+
+Up to this time a smile had lighted the merchant's eyes. But now his
+voice lowered, and the lines about his mouth hardened.
+
+"As to the guardianship of children, Father Josef, I am a bachelor who
+for nearly nine years have given a home, education, support, and
+affection to three orphan children, until, though young in years, they
+are wise and capable. So zealous was I for their welfare, that when word
+came to me--no matter how--that a company of Mexicans were on their way
+to Independence, Missouri, ostensibly to seek the protection of the
+United States Government and to settle on the frontier there, but really
+to seize these children in my absence, and carry them into the heart of
+old Mexico, I decided at once that they would be safer with me in New
+Mexico than without me in Missouri.
+
+"In the night I passed this Mexican gang at Council Grove, waiting to
+seize me in the morning. At Pawnee Rock a storm scattered a band of
+Kiowa Indians to whom these same Mexicans had given a little Indian
+slave girl as a reward for attacking our train if the Mexicans should
+fail to get us themselves. Through every peril that threatens that long
+trail we came safely because the hand of the Lord preserved us."
+
+Esmond Clarenden paused, and the priest bowed a moment in prayer.
+
+"If I have dared fate in this journey," the merchant went on, "it was
+not to be foolhardy, nor for mere money gains, but to keep my own with
+me, and to rescue the daughter of Mary St. Vrain, of Santa Fé, and take
+her to a place of safety. It was her mother's last pleading call, as
+you, Father Josef, very well know, since you yourself heard her last
+words and closed her dead eyes. Under the New Mexican law, the
+guardianship of her property rests with others. Mine is the right to
+protect her and, by the God of heaven, I mean to do it!"
+
+Esmond Clarenden's voice was deep and powerful now, filling the old
+church with its vehemence.
+
+Up by the altar, the little girl sat up suddenly and looked about her,
+terrified by the dim light and the strange faces there.
+
+"Don't be afraid, Eloise."
+
+How strangely changed was this gentle tone from the vehement voice of a
+moment ago.
+
+The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no child
+ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held Beverly and me
+in loving obedience all the days of our lives with him.
+
+Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the girl
+reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm protectingly
+about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with tears; the head with its
+sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned against him for a moment. Then the
+fighting spirit came back to her, so early in her young life had the
+need for defending herself been forced upon her.
+
+"Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded.
+
+"You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly.
+
+"And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good! Let's go
+now!"
+
+She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at Esmond
+Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open door.
+
+"Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this good
+man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your mother would
+want you to be." His musical voice was full of pathos.
+
+Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the aisle.
+
+"I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand
+between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from her
+face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek.
+
+Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned hastily
+toward the altar.
+
+"Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp, bitter
+voice filling the church.
+
+"By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so long as
+you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them you reckon with
+me."
+
+Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing gesture.
+
+"I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for that
+sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would have been safe
+here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as long as you choose in
+the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot outside these walls and I say
+again you reckon with me."
+
+His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and his
+charge clinging to his arm.
+
+"Set but a foot outside these walls and _you_ will reckon with _me_."
+
+It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up suddenly
+behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.
+
+"You meant to hide in the old Church of San Miguel because it is so near
+to the home where you have kept this little girl. But Gail Clarenden
+blocked your game and found your house and this child in the church door
+before our wagon-train had reached the end of the trail. You found this
+church your nearest refuge, meaning to leave it again early in the
+morning. I have waited here for you all day, protected by the same means
+that brought word to Santa Fé this morning. Come out now if you wish.
+You dare not follow me to the States, but I dare to come to your land.
+Can you meet me here?" Jondo was handsome in his sunny moods. In his
+anger he was splendid.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero dropped to a seat beside Father Josef.
+
+"I have told you I cannot face that man. I will stay here now," he said,
+in a low voice to the priest. "But I do not stay here always, and I can
+send where I do not follow," he added, defiantly.
+
+Esmond Clarenden was already on his horse with his little charge, snugly
+wrapped, in his arms.
+
+Father Josef at the portal lifted his hand in sign of blessing.
+
+"Peace be with you. Do not tarry long," he said. Then, turning to Jondo,
+he gazed into the strong, handsome face. "Go in peace. He will not
+follow. But forget not to love even your enemies."
+
+In the midnight dimness Jondo's bright smile glowed with all its
+courageous sweetness.
+
+"I finished that fight long ago," he said. "I come only to help others."
+
+Long these two, priest and plainsman, stood there with clasped hands,
+the gray night mists of the Santa Fé Valley round about them and all the
+far stars of the midnight sky gleaming above them.
+
+Then Jondo mounted his horse and rode away up the trail toward Santa Fé.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+  I will even make a way in the wilderness.
+                              --ISAIAH.
+
+
+Bent's fort stood alone in the wide wastes of the upper Arkansas valley.
+From the Atlantic to the Pacific shores there was in America no more
+isolated spot holding a man's home. Out on the north bank of the
+Arkansas, in a grassy river bottom, with rolling treeless plains
+rippling away on every hand, it reared its high yellow walls in solitary
+defiance, mute token of the white man's conquering hand in a savage
+wilderness. It was a great rectangle built of adobe brick with walls six
+feet through at the base, sloping to only a third of that width at the
+top, eighteen feet from the ground. Round bastions, thirty feet high, at
+two diagonal corners, gave outlook and defense. Immense wooden doors
+guarded a wide gateway looking eastward down the Arkansas River. The
+interior arrangement was after the Mexican custom of building, with
+rooms along the outer walls all opening into a big _patio_, or open
+court. A cross-wall separated this court from the large corral inside
+the outer walls at the rear. A portal, or porch, roofed with thatch on
+cedar poles, ran around the entire inner rectangle, sheltering the rooms
+somewhat from the glare of the white-washed court. A little world in
+itself was this Bent's Fort, a self-dependent community in the solitary
+places. The presiding genius of this community was William Bent, whose
+name is graven hard and deep in the annals of the eastern slopes of the
+Rocky Mountain country in the earlier decades of the nineteenth century.
+
+Hither in the middle '40's the wild trails of the West converged:
+northward, from the trading-posts of Bent and St. Vrain on the Platte;
+south, over the Raton Pass from Taos and Santa Fé; westward, from the
+fur-bearing plateaus of the Rockies, where trappers and traders brought
+their precious piles of pelts down the Arkansas; and eastward, half a
+thousand miles from the Missouri River frontier--the pathways of a
+restless, roving people crossed each other here. And it was toward this
+wilderness crossroads that Esmond Clarenden directed his course in that
+summertime of my boyhood years.
+
+The heat of a July sun beat pitilessly down on the scorching plains. The
+weary trail stretched endlessly on toward a somewhere in the yellow
+distance that meant shelter and safety. Spiral gusts of air gathering
+out of the low hills to the southeast picked up great cones of dust and
+whirled them zigzagging across the brown barren face of the land. Every
+draw was bone dry; even the greener growths along their sheltered
+sides, where the last moisture hides itself, wore a sickly sallow hue.
+
+Under the burden of this sun-glare, and through these stifling
+dust-cones, our little company struggled sturdily forward.
+
+We had left Santa Fé as suddenly and daringly as we had entered it, the
+very impossibility of risking such a journey again being our, greatest
+safeguard. Esmond Clarenden was doing the thing that couldn't be done,
+and doing it quickly.
+
+In the gray dawn after that midnight ride to Agua Fria a little Indian
+girl had slipped like a brown shadow across the Plaza. Stopping at the
+door of the Exchange Hotel, she leaned against the low slab of petrified
+wood that for many a year served as a loafer's roost before the hotel
+doorway. Inside the building Jondo caught the clear twitter of a bird's
+song at daybreak, twice repeated. A pause, and then it came again,
+fainter this time, as if the bird were fluttering away through the Plaza
+treetops.
+
+In that pause, the gate in the wall had opened softly, and Aunty Boone's
+sharp eyes peered through the crack. The girl caught one glimpse of the
+black face, then, dropping a tiny leather bag beside the stone, she sped
+away.
+
+A tall young Indian boy, prone on the ground behind a pile of refuse in
+the shadowy Plaza, lifted his head in time to see the girl glide along
+the portal of the Palace of the Governors and disappear at the corner of
+the structure. Then he rose and followed her with silent moccasined
+feet.
+
+And Jondo, who had hurried to the hotel door, saw only the lithe form of
+an Indian boy across the Plaza. Then his eye fell on the slender bag
+beside the stone slab. It held a tiny scrap of paper, bearing a message:
+
+_Take long trail QUICK. Mexicans follow far_. Trust bearer anywhere.
+JOSEF.
+
+An hour later we were on our way toward the open prairies and the Stars
+and Stripes afloat above Fort Leavenworth.
+
+In the wagon beside Mat Nivers was the little girl whose face had been
+clear in the mystic vision of my day-dreams on the April morning when I
+had gone out to watch for the big fish on the sand-bars; the morning
+when I had felt the first heart-throb of desire for the trail and the
+open plains whereon my life-story would later be written.
+
+We carried no merchandise now. Everything bent toward speed and safety.
+Our ponies and mules were all fresh ones--secured for this journey two
+hours after we had come into Santa Fé--save for the big sturdy dun
+creature that Uncle Esmond, out of pure sentiment, allowed to trail
+along behind the wagons toward his native heath in the Missouri bottoms.
+
+We had crossed the Gloriettas and climbed over the Raton Pass rapidly,
+and now we were nearing the upper Arkansas, where the old trail turns
+east for its long stretch across the prairies.
+
+As far as the eye could see there was no living thing save our own
+company in all the desolate plain aquiver with heat and ashy dry. The
+line of low yellow bluffs to the southeast hardly cast a shadow save for
+a darker dun tint here and there.
+
+At midday we drooped to a brief rest beside the sun-baked trail.
+
+"You all jus' one color," Aunty Boone declared. "You all like the dus'
+you made of 'cep' Little Lees an' me. She's white and I'm black. Nothin'
+else makes a pin streak on the face of the earth."
+
+Aunty Boone flourished on deserts and her black face glistened in the
+sunlight. Deep in the shadow of the wagon cover the face of Eloise St.
+Vrain--"Little Lees," Aunty Boone had named her--bloomed pink as a wild
+rose in its frame of soft hair. She had become Aunty Boone's meat and
+drink from the moment the strange African woman first saw her. This
+regard, never expressed in caress nor word of tenderness, showed itself
+in warding from the little girl every wind of heaven that might visit
+her too roughly. Not that Eloise gave up easily. Her fighting spirit
+made her rebel against weariness and the hardships of trail life new to
+her. She fitted into our ways marvelously well, demanding equal rights,
+but no favors. By some gentle appeal, hardly put into words, we knew
+that Uncle Esmond did not want us to talk to her about herself. And
+Beverly and Mat and I, however much we might speculate among ourselves,
+never thought of resisting his wishes.
+
+Eloise was gracious with Mat, but evidently the boy Marcos had made her
+wary of all boys. She paid no attention to Beverly and me at first. All
+her pretty smiles and laughing words were for Uncle Esmond and Jondo.
+And she was lovely. Never in all these long and varied years have I seen
+another child with such a richness of coloring, nor such a mass of
+golden hair rippling around her forehead and falling in big, soft curls
+about her neck. Her dark eyes with their long black lashes gave to her
+face its picturesque beauty, and her plump, dimpled arms and sturdy
+little form bespoke the wholesome promise of future years.
+
+But the life of the trail was not meant for such as she, and I know now
+that the assurance of having saved her from some greater misfortune
+alone comforted Uncle Esmond and Jondo in this journey. For Aunty Boone
+was right when she declared, "They tote together always."
+
+As we grouped together under that shelterless glare, getting what
+comfort we could out of the brief rest, Jondo sprang up suddenly, his
+eyes aglow with excitement.
+
+"What's the matter? Because if it isn't, this is one hot day to pretend
+like it is," Rex Krane asserted.
+
+He was lying on the hot earth beside the trail, his hat pulled over his
+face. Beverly and Bill Banney were staring dejectedly across the
+landscape, seeing nothing. I sat looking off toward the east, wondering
+what lay behind those dun bluffs in the distance.
+
+"Something is wrong back yonder," Jondo declared, making a half-circle
+with his hand toward the trail behind us.
+
+My heart seemed to stop mid-beat with a kind of fear I had never known
+before. Aunty Boone had always been her own defender. Mat Nivers had
+cared for me so much that I never doubted her bigger power. It was for
+Eloise, Aunty Boone's "Little Lees," that my fear leaped up.
+
+I can close my eyes to-day and see again the desolate land banded by the
+broad white trail. I can see the dusty wagons and our tired mules with
+drooping heads. I can see the earnest, anxious faces of Esmond Clarenden
+and Jondo; Beverly and Bill Banney hardly grasping Jondo's meaning; Rex
+Krane, half asleep on the edge of the trail. I can see Mat Nivers, brown
+and strong, and Aunty Boone oozing sweat at every pore. But these are
+only the setting for that little girl on the wagon-seat with white face
+and big dark eyes, under the curl-shadowed forehead.
+
+Jondo stared hard toward the hills in the southeast. Then he turned to
+my uncle with grim face and burning eyes; His was a wonderful voice,
+clear, strong and penetrating. But in danger he always spoke in a low
+tone.
+
+"I've watched those dust-whirls for an hour. The wind isn't making all
+of them. Somebody is stirring them up for cover. Every whirl has an
+Indian in it. It's all of ten miles to Bent's. We must fight them off
+and let the others run for it, before they cut us off in front. Look at
+that!"
+
+The exclamation burst from the plainsman's lips.
+
+That was my last straight looking. The rest is ever a kaleidoscope of
+action thrilled through with terror. What I saw was a swiftly moving
+black splotch coming out of the hills, with huge dust-heaps flying here
+and there before it. Then a yellow cloud spiral blinded our sight as a
+gust of hot wind swept round us. I remember Jondo's stern face and
+blazing eyes and his words:
+
+"Mexicans behind the Indians!"
+
+And Uncle Esmond's voice:
+
+"Narveo said they would get us, but I hoped we had outrun them."
+
+The far plains seemed spotted with Indians racing toward us, and coming
+at an angle from the southeast a dozen Mexicans swept in to cut us off
+from the trail in front.
+
+I remember a quick snatching of precious things in boxes placed for such
+a moment as this, a quick snapping of halter ropes around the ponies'
+necks, a gleaming of gun-barrels in the hot sunlight; a solid cloud of
+dust rolling up behind us, bigger and nearer every second; and the
+urgent voice of Jondo: "Ride for your lives!"
+
+And the race began. On the trail somewhere before us was Bent's Fort. We
+could only hope to reach it soon. We did not even look behind as we tore
+down that dusty wilderness way.
+
+At the first motion Aunty Boone had seized Eloise St. Vrain with one
+hand and the big dun mule's neck-strap with the other.
+
+"Go to the devil, you tigers and cannibals!" She roared with the growl
+of a desert lioness, shaking her big black fist at the band of Mexicans
+pouring out of the hills.
+
+And dun mule and black woman and white-faced, terror-stricken child
+became only a dust-cloud far in front of us. Mat and Beverly and I
+leaped to the ponies and followed the lead of the African woman. Nearest
+to us was Rex Krane, always a shield for the younger and less able. And
+behind him, as defense for the rear and protection for the van, came
+Esmond Clarenden and Bill Banney, with Jondo nearest the enemy, where
+danger was greatest.
+
+I tell it calmly, but I lived it in a blind whirl. The swift hoof-beat,
+the wild Indian yells, the whirl of arrows and whiz of bullets, the
+onrush to outrun the Mexicans who were trying to cut us off from the
+trail in front. Lived it! I lived ages in it. And then an arrow cut my
+pony's flank, making him lurch from the trail, a false step, the pony
+staggering, falling. A sharp pain in my shoulder, the smell of fire, a
+shriek from demon throats, the glaring sunlight on the rocking plain,
+searing my eyes in a mad whirlpool of blinding light, the fading
+sounds--and then--all was black and still.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When I opened my eyes again I was lying on a cot. Bare adobe walls were
+around me, and a high plastered roof resting on cedar poles sheltered
+that awful glare from my eyes. Through the open door I could see the
+rain falling on the bare ground of the court, filling the shallow places
+with puddles.
+
+I tried to lift myself to see more as shrieks of childish laughter
+caught my ear, but there was a sickish heat in my dry skin, an evil
+taste in my throat, and a sharp pain in my left shoulder; and I fell
+back again.
+
+Another shriek, and Eloise St. Vrain came before my doorway, pattering
+with bare white feet out into the center of the _patio_ puddles and
+laughing at the dashing summer shower. Her damp hair, twisted into a
+knot on top of her head, was curling tightly about her temples and neck,
+her eyes were shining; her wet clothes slapping at her bare white
+knees--a picture of the delicious happiness of childhood. A little child
+of three or four years was toddling after her. He was brown as a berry,
+and at first I thought he was a little Indian. I could hear Mat and
+Beverly splashing about safe and joyous somewhere, and I forgot my fever
+and pain and the dread of that awful glare coming again to sear my
+burning eyeballs as I watched and listened. A louder shriek as the
+little child ran behind Eloise and gave her a vigorous shove for one so
+small.
+
+"Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you've done," Mat cried; and then Beverly
+was picking up "Little Lees," sprawling, all mud-smeared and happy, in
+the very middle of the court.
+
+The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a wicked
+mischief, but he said not a word.
+
+Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a cot
+beyond mine. An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me. I stared
+back at him and neither of us spoke. His head was bandaged and his cheek
+was swollen, but with my memory for faces, even Indian faces, I knew him
+at once for the boy who had followed us into Agua Fria and out of it
+again.
+
+Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at me.
+
+"Are you awake?" Eloise asked.
+
+Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and Beverly
+and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious. They gave no heed to the
+Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep. Once, however, I caught him
+watching Beverly, and his eyes were like dagger points.
+
+"We are having the best times. You must get well right away, because we
+are going to stay." They all began to clatter, noisily.
+
+Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped suddenly.
+
+"Clear out of here, you magpies," he commanded, and they scuttled away
+into the warm rain and the puddles again.
+
+"Do you want anything, Gail?" Rex asked, bending over me.
+
+I drew his head down with my right arm.
+
+"I want that Indian out of here," I whispered.
+
+"Out he goes," Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew it the
+boy was taken away. When we were alone the tall young man sat down
+beside me.
+
+"You want to ask me a million questions. I'll answer 'em to save you
+the trouble," he began, in his comfortable way.
+
+"You are wounded in your shoulder. Slight, bullet, that's Mexican; deep,
+arrow, that's Indian. But you are here and pretty much alive and you
+will be well soon."
+
+"And Uncle Esmond? Jondo? Bill?" I began, lifting myself up on my well
+arm.
+
+"Keep quiet. I'll answer faster. Everybody all right. Clarenden and
+Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a military
+escort permits."
+
+I dropped down again.
+
+"The U.S. Army, en route for perdition, via Santa Fé, is camping in the
+big timbers down-stream now. Jondo and Esmond Clarenden will leave you
+boys and girls here till it's safe to take you out again. And I and
+Daniel Boone, vestal god and goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep
+you from harm till that time. Bill's joining the army for sure now, and
+our happy family life is ended as far as the Santa Fé Trail is
+concerned. I'm a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell
+me."
+
+"Tell me about this." I pointed to my shoulder.
+
+"All in good time. It was a nasty mess of fish. A dozen Mexicans and as
+many Indians had followed us all the way from the sunny side of the
+Gloriettas. You and Bev and Mat had got by the Mexics. Daniel Boone and
+'Little Lees' were climbing the North Pole by that time. The rest of us
+were giving battle straight from the shoulder; and someway, I don't know
+how, just as we had the gang beat back behind us--you had a sniff of a
+bullet just then--an Indian slipped ahead in the dust. I was tendin' to
+mite of an arrow wound in my right calf, and I just caught him in time,
+aimin' at Bev; but he missed him for you. I got him, though, and clubbed
+his scalp a bit loose."
+
+Rex paused and stared at his right leg.
+
+"How did that boy get here, Rex? Is he a friendly Indian?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Jondo brought him in out of the wet. Says the child was made to
+come along, and as soon as he could get away from the gang he had to run
+with up here; he came right into camp to help us against them. Fine
+young fellow! Jondo has it from them in authority that we can trust him
+lyin' or tellin' the truth. _He's all right._"
+
+"How did he get hurt?" I inquired, still remembering in my own mind the
+day at Agua Fria.
+
+"He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it happened,"
+Rex replied.
+
+"Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up with
+the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily.
+
+"At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?"
+
+"I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that way. He's
+got faith in that redskin and he's going to see that he gets back to New
+Mexico safely--after while."
+
+"Rex, that's the same boy that was down in Agua Fria, the one Bev
+laughed at. He's no good Indian," I declared.
+
+"You are too wise, Gail Clarenden," Rex drawled, carelessly. "A boy of
+your brains had ought to be born in Boston. Jondo and I can't agree
+about him. His name, he says, is Santan. There's one 'n' too many. If
+you knock off the last one it makes him Santa--'holy'; but if you knock
+out the middle it's Satan. We don't knock out the same 'n', Jondo and
+me."
+
+Just then the little child came tumbling noisily into the room.
+
+"Look here, youngun. You can't be makin' a racket here," Rex said.
+
+The boy stared at him, impudently.
+
+"I will, too," he declared, sullenly, kicking at my cot with all his
+might.
+
+Rex made no reply but, seizing the child around the waist, he carried
+him kicking and screaming outside.
+
+"You stay out or I'll spank you!" Rex said, dropping him to the ground.
+
+The boy looked up with blazing eyes, but said nothing.
+
+"That's little Charlie Bent. His daddy runs this splendid fort. His
+mother is a Cheyenne squaw, and he's a grim clinger of a half-breed.
+Some day he'll be a terror on these plains. It's in him, I know. But
+that won't interfere with us any. And you children are a lot safer here
+than out on the trail. Great God! I wonder we ever got you here!" Rex's
+face was very grave. "Now go to sleep and wake up well. No more thinkin'
+like a man. You can be a child again for a while."
+
+Those were happy days that followed. Safe behind the strong walls of old
+Fort Bent, we children had not a care; and with the stress and strain of
+the trail life lifted from our young minds, we rebounded into happy
+childhood living. Every day offered a new drama to our wonder-loving
+eyes. We watched the big hide-press for making buffalo robes and furs
+into snug bales. We climbed to the cupola of the headquarters department
+and saw the soldiers marching by on their way to New Mexico. We saw the
+Ute and the Red River Comanche come filing in on their summer
+expeditions from the mountains. We saw the trade lines from the far
+north bearing down to this wilderness crossroads with their early fall
+stock for barter.
+
+Our playground was the court off which all the rooms opened. And however
+wild and boisterous the scenes inside those walls in that summer of
+1846, in four young lives no touch of evil took root. Stronger than the
+six-feet width of wall, higher than the eighteen feet of adobe brick
+guarding us round about, was the stern strength of the young Boston man
+interned in the fort to protect us from within, as the strength of that
+structure defended us from without.
+
+And yet he might have failed sometimes, had it not been for Aunty Boone.
+Nobody trifled with her.
+
+"You let them children be. An give 'em the run of this shack," she
+commanded of the lesser powers whose business was to domineer over the
+daily life there. "The man that makes trouble wide as a needle is across
+is goin' to meet me an' the Judgment Day the same minute."
+
+"When Daniel gets on her crack-o'-doom voice, the mountains goin' to
+skip like rams and the little hills like lambs, an' the Army of the West
+won't be necessary to protect the frontier," Rex declared. But he knew
+her worth to his cause, and he welcomed it.
+
+And so with her brute force and his moral strength we were unconsciously
+intrenched in a safety zone in this far-isolated place.
+
+With neither Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in our
+remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we needed. For
+with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in which a child's
+day may be harried unless the child asserts himself. We had the years of
+children but the sturdy defiance of youth. So we were happy within our
+own little group, and we paid little heed to the things that nobody else
+could forestall for us.
+
+Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child of the
+proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered into all of our
+sports with a quickness and perseverance and wilfulness that was
+thoroughly American. He took defeat of his wishes, and the equal measure
+of justice and punishment, with the silent doggedness of an Indian; and
+on the edge of babyhood he showed a spirit of revenge and malice that
+we, in our rollicking, affectionate lives, with all our teasing and
+sense of humor, could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and
+ignored his imperious demands.
+
+Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending him in
+everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if we would
+submit to the making, which we seldom did.
+
+And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican masters
+for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's shrewdness, never to
+let us out of his sight. But he gave us no opportunity to approach him.
+He lived in his own world, which was a savage one, but he managed that
+it should overlap our world and silently grasp all that was in it.
+Beverly had persistently tried to be friendly for a time, for that was
+Beverly's way. Failing to do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for
+all time.
+
+"We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly told the
+Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good Indians like her.
+She's one clipper."
+
+Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and made no
+reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly from that
+moment.
+
+The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in a
+corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season and the
+night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the open space,
+edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver. There was much noise
+and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room where the heads of affairs
+played together. Rex Krane had gone to bed early. Out by the rear gate
+leading to the fort corral, Aunty Boone was crooning a weird African
+melody. Crouching in the deep shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the
+Indian boy, Santan, listened to all that was said.
+
+To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength of the
+military guard who should keep us safe along the way. Then, as children
+will, we began to speculate on what should follow for us.
+
+"When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill and me.
+We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the trail. I'm going
+back to Santa Fé and kill that boy that stared at me like he was crazy
+one day at Agua Fria."
+
+In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to us as
+Beverly ran on flippantly:
+
+"I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the Bents
+do, and live happily ever after."
+
+"I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time," Mat
+Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what this long
+journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.
+
+"I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said, meditatively. "He
+won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook back the curly tresses,
+gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and squeezed my hand as she sat beside
+me.
+
+"What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.
+
+"I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from home," I
+declared.
+
+"Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos cuss's nose
+if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as Aunty Boone would say,"
+Beverly broke in.
+
+I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I would
+have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we talked together
+as boys do, in the confidences they never give to anybody else.
+
+A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept down
+inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises inside the
+billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors except ours were
+closed. Santan had crept between us and the two open doorways leading to
+our rooms. What if he should slip inside. A snake would have seemed
+better to me.
+
+A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I held it
+tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not speak nor move.
+Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and everything had grown weird
+and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of some wild thing of the night
+plains outside crept to our ears, making us shiver.
+
+"When the stars go to sleep an' the moon pulls up the gray covers, it's
+time to shut your eyes an' forget." Aunty Boone's soft voice broke the
+spell comfortingly for us. "Any crawlin' thing that gits in my way now,
+goin' to be stepped on."
+
+At the low hissing sound of the last sentence there was a swift
+scrambling along the shadows of the porch, and a door near the kitchen
+snapped shut. The big shining face of the African woman glistened above
+us and the court was flooded again with the moon's silvery radiance. As
+we all sprang up to rush for our rooms, "Little Lees" pulled me toward
+her and gently kissed my cheek.
+
+"You never would let Marcos in if he came to Fort Leavenworth, would
+you?" she whispered.
+
+"I'd break his head clear off first," I whispered back, and then we
+scampered away.
+
+That night I dreamed again of the level plains and Uncle Esmond and
+misty mountain peaks, but the dark eyes were not there, though I watched
+long for them.
+
+The next day we left Fort Bent, and when I passed that way again it was
+a great mass of yellow mounds, with a piece of broken wall standing
+desolately here and there, a wreck of the past in a solitary land.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+
+
+  Love took me softly by the hand,
+    Love led me all the country o'er,
+  And showed me beauty in the land,
+    That I had never seen before.
+                       --ANONYMOUS.
+
+
+You might not be able to find the house to-day, nor the high bluff
+whereon it stood. So many changes have been wrought in half a century
+that what was green headland and wooded valley in the far '50's may be
+but a deep cut or a big fill for a new roadway or factory site to-day.
+So diligently has Kansas City fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+"every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be
+made low."
+
+Where the great stream bends to the east, the rugged heights about its
+elbow, Aunty Boone, in those days, was wont to declare, did not offer
+enough level ground to set a hen on. Small reason was there then to hope
+that a city, great and gracious, would one day cover those rough ravines
+and grace those slopes and hilltops in the angle between the Missouri
+and the Kaw.
+
+Aunty Boone had resented leaving Fort Leavenworth when the Clarenden
+business made the young city at the Kaw's mouth more desirable for a
+home. But Esmond Clarenden foresaw that a military post, when the
+protection it offers is no longer needed, will not, in itself, be a
+city-builder. The war had brought New Mexico into United States
+territory; railroads were slowly creeping westward toward the
+Mississippi River; steamboats and big covered wagons were bringing
+settlers into Kansas, where little cabins were beginning to mark the
+landscape with new hearth-stones. Congress was wrangling over the great
+slavery question. The Eastern lawmakers were stupidly opposing the
+efforts of Missouri statesmen to extend mail routes westward, or to
+spend any energy toward developing that so-called worthless region which
+they named "the great American desert." And the old Santa Fé Trail was
+now more than ever the highway for the commerical treasures of the
+Rocky Mountains and the great Southwest.
+
+It was the time of budding things. In the valley of the Missouri the
+black elm boughs, the silvery sycamores and cottonwoods, and the vines
+on the gray rock-faced cliffs were veiled in shimmering draperies of
+green, with here and there a little group of orchard trees faintly pink
+against the landscape's dainty verdure.
+
+Beverly Clarenden and I stood on the deck of a river steamer as it made
+the wharf at old Westport Landing, where Esmond Clarenden waited for us.
+And long before the steamer's final bump against the pier we had noted
+the tall, slender girl standing beside him. We had been away three
+years, the only schooling outside of Uncle Esmond's teaching we were
+ever to have. We were big boys now, greatly conscious of hands and feet
+in our way, "razor broke," Aunty Boone declared, brimful of hilarity and
+love of adventure, and eager for the plains life, and the dangers of the
+old trail by which we were to conquer or be conquered. In the society of
+women we were timid and ill at ease. Aside from this we were
+self-conceited, for we knew more of the world and felt ourselves more
+important on that spring morning than we ever presumed to know or dared
+to feel in all the years that followed.
+
+"Who is she, Gail, that tall one by little fat Uncle Esmond?" Beverly
+questioned, as we neared the wharf.
+
+"You don't reckon he's married, Bev? He's all of twenty-four or five
+years older than we are, and we aren't calves any more." I replied,
+scanning the group on the wharf.
+
+But we forgot the girl in our eagerness to bound down the gang-plank and
+hug the man who meant all that home and love could mean to us. In our
+three growing years we had almost eliminated Mat Nivers, save as a happy
+memory, for mails were slow in those days and we were poor
+letter-writers; and we had wondered how to meet her properly now. But
+when the tall, slender girl on the wharf came forward and we looked into
+the wide gray eyes of our old-time playmate whom, as little boys, we
+had both vowed to marry, we forgot everything in our overwhelming love
+for our comrade-in-arms, our jolliest friend and counselor.
+
+"Oh, Mat, you miserable thing!" Beverly bubbled, hugging her in his
+arms.
+
+"You are just bigger and sweeter than ever. I mistook you for Aunty
+Boone at first," I chimed in, kissing her on each cheek. And we all
+bundled away in an old-fashioned, low-swung carriage, happy as children
+again, with no barrier between us and the dear playmate of the past.
+
+The new home, on the high crest overlooking the Missouri valley, nestled
+deep in the shade of maple and elm trees, a mansion, compared to that
+log house of blessed memory at Fort Leavenworth. A winding road led up
+the steep slope from a wooded ravine where a trail ran out from the
+little city by the river's edge. Vistas of sheer cliff and stretches of
+the muddy on-sweeping Missouri and the full-bosomed Kaw, with scrubby
+timbered ravines and growing groves of forest trees, offered themselves
+at every turn. And from the top of the bluff the world unrolled in a
+panorama of nature's own shaping and coloring.
+
+The house was built of stone, with vines climbing about its thick walls,
+and broad veranda. And everywhere Mat's hands had put homey touches of
+comfort and beauty. An hundredfold did she return to Esmond Clarenden
+all the care and protection he had given to her in her orphaned
+childhood. And, after all, it was not military outposts, nor railroads,
+nor mail-lines alone that pushed back the wilderness frontier. It was
+the hand of woman that also builded empire westward.
+
+"Mat's got her wish at last," I said, as we sat with Uncle Esmond after
+dinner under a big maple tree and looked out at the far yellow Missouri,
+churning its spring floods to foam against the snags along its
+high-water bound.
+
+"What's Mat's wish?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"To have a good home and _stay there_. She wished that one night, years
+ago back in old Fort Bent. Don't you remember, Bev, when we were out in
+the court, and how scared blue we all were when the moon went under a
+cloud, and that Indian boy, Santan, was creeping between us and the home
+base?"
+
+"No, I don't remember anything except that we were in Fort Bent. Got in
+by the width of a hair ahead of some Mexicans and Indians, and got out
+again after a jolly six weeks. What's the real job for us now, Uncle
+Esmond?"
+
+Uncle Esmond was staring out toward the Kaw valley, rimmed by high
+bluffs in the distance.
+
+"I don't know about Mat having her wish," he said, thoughtfully, "but
+never mind. Trade is booming and I'm needing help on the trail this
+spring. Jondo starts west in two weeks."
+
+Beverly and I sprang up. Six feet of height, muscular, adventure-loving,
+fearless, we had been made to order for the Santa Fé Trail. And if I was
+still a dreamer and caught sometimes the finer side of ideals, where
+Beverly Clarenden saw only the matter-of-fact, visible things, no
+shrewder, braver, truer plainsman ever walked the long distances of the
+old Santa Fé Trail than this boy with his bright face and happy-go-lucky
+spirit unpained by dreams, untrammeled by fancies.
+
+"Two weeks! We are ready to start right after supper," we declared.
+
+"Oh, I have other matters first," Uncle Esmond said. "Beverly, you must
+go up to Fort Leavenworth and arrange a lot of things with Banney for
+this trip. He's to go, too, because military escort is short this
+season."
+
+"Suits me!" Beverly declared. "Old Bill Banney and I always could get
+along together. And this infant here?"
+
+"I'm going to send Gail down to the Catholic Mission, in Kansas. You
+remember little Eloise St. Vrain, of course?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"We do!" Beverly assured him. "Pretty as a doll, gritty as a sand-bar,
+snappy as a lobster's claw--she dwells within my memory yet."
+
+All girls were little children to us, for the scheme of things had not
+included them in our affairs.
+
+I threw a handful of grass in the boy's face, and Uncle Esmond went on.
+
+"She's been at St. Ann's School at the Osage Mission down on the Neosho
+River for two or three years, and now she is going to St. Louis. In
+these troublesome times on the border, if I have a personal interest, I
+feel safer if some big six-footer whom I can trust comes along as an
+escort from the Neosho to the Missouri," Uncle Esmond explained.
+
+And then we spoke of other things: the stream of emigration flowing into
+the country, the possibilities of the prairies, the future of the city
+that should hold the key to the whole Southwest, and especially of the
+chance and value of the trail trade.
+
+"It's the big artery that carries the nation's life-blood here," Esmond
+Clarenden declared. "Some day when the West is full of people, and
+dowered with prosperity, it may remember the men who built the highway
+for the feet of trade to run in. And the West may yet measure its
+greatness somewhat by the honesty and faithfulness of the merchant of
+the frontier, and more by the courage and persistence of the boys who
+drove the ox-teams across the plains. Don't forget that you yourselves
+are State-builders now."
+
+He spoke earnestly, but his words meant little to me. I was looking out
+toward the wide-sweeping Kaw and thinking of the journey I must make,
+and wondering if I should ever feel at ease in the society of women.
+Wondering, too, what I should say, and how I should really take care of
+"Little Lees," who had crossed the plains with us almost a decade ago;
+the girl who had held my hand tightly one night at old Fort Bent when
+the shadow had slipped across the moon and filled the silvery court with
+a gray, ghostly light.
+
+That night the old heart-hunger of childhood came back to me, the
+visions of the day-dreaming little boy that were almost forgotten in the
+years that had brought me to young manhood. And clearly again, as when I
+heard Uncle Esmond's voice that night on the tableland above the valley
+of the Santa Fé, I heard his gentle words:
+
+"Sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must fight for, and
+even die for, that those who come after us may be the better for our
+having them."
+
+But these thoughts passed with the night, and in my youth and
+inexperience I took on a spirit of fatherly importance as I went down to
+St. Ann's to safeguard a little girl on her way through the Kansas
+territory to the Missouri River.
+
+It had been a beautiful day, and there was a freshness in the soft
+evening breeze, and an up-springing sweetness from the prairies. A
+shower had passed that way an hour before, and the spirit of growing
+things seemed to fill the air with a voiceless music.
+
+Just at sunset the stage from the north put me down in front of St.
+Ann's Academy in the little Osage Mission village on the Neosho.
+
+A tall nun, with commanding figure and dignified bearing, left the
+church steps across the road and came slowly toward me.
+
+"I am looking for Mother Bridget, the head of this school," I said,
+lifting my hat.
+
+"I am Mother Bridget." The voice was low and firm. One could not imagine
+disobedience under her rule.
+
+"I come from Mr. Esmond Clarenden, to act as escort for a little girl,
+Eloise St. Vrain, who is to leave here on the stage for Kansas City
+to-morrow," I hesitatingly offered my letter of introduction, which
+told all that I had tried to say, and more.
+
+The woman's calm face was gentle, with the protective gentleness of the
+stone that will not fail you when you lean on it. One felt sure of
+Mother Bridget, as one feels sure of the solid rock to build upon. She
+looked at me with keen, half-quizzical eyes. Then she said, quietly:
+
+"You will find the little girl down by Flat Rock Creek. The Indian girl,
+Po-a-be, is with her. There may be several Indian girls down there, but
+Po-a-be is alone with little Eloise."
+
+I bowed and turned away, conscious that, with this good nun's sincerity,
+she was smiling at me back of her eyes somehow.
+
+As I followed the way leading to the creek I passed a group or two of
+Indian girls--St. Ann's, under the Loretto Sisterhood, was fundamentally
+a mission school for these--and a trio of young ladies, pretty and
+coquettish, with daring, mischievous eyes, whose glances made me flush
+hot to the back of my neck as I stumbled by them on my way to the
+stream.
+
+The last sun rays were glistening on the placid waters of the Flat Rock,
+and all the world was softly green, touched with a golden glamour. I
+paused by a group of bushes to let the spell of the hour have its way
+with me. I have always loved the beautiful things of earth; as much now
+as in my childhood days, when I felt ashamed to let my love be known; as
+now I dare to tell it only on paper, and not to that dear, great circle
+of men and women who know me best to-day.
+
+The sound of footsteps and the murmur of soft voices fitted into the
+sweetness of that evening hour as two girls, one of them an Indian, came
+slowly down a well-worn path from the fields above the Flat Rock Valley.
+They did not see me as they sat down on some broad stones beside the
+stream.
+
+I started forward to make myself known, but caught myself mid-step, for
+here was a picture to make any man pause.
+
+The Indian girl facing me was Little Blue Flower, the Kiowas' captive,
+whom we had rescued at Pawnee Rock. Her heavy black hair was coiled low
+on her neck, a headband of fine silverwork with pink coral pendants was
+bound about her forehead and gleaming against her jetty hair. With her
+well-poised head, her pure Indian features, her lustrous dark eyes, her
+smooth brown skin, her cheeks like the heart of those black-red roses
+that grow only in richest soil--surely there was no finer type of that
+vanishing race in all the Indian pueblos of the Southwest. But the girl
+beside her! Was it really so many years ago that I stood by the bushes
+on the Flat Rock's edge and saw that which I see so clearly now? Then
+these years have been gracious indeed to me. The sun's level beams fell
+on the masses of golden waves that swept in soft little ripples back
+from the white brow to a coil of gold on the white neck, held, like the
+Indian girl's, with a headband of wrought silver, and goldveined
+turquoise; it fell on the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the
+cheek, the red lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their
+fringe of long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the
+curves of the white throat and the round white arms. Only a master's
+hand could make you see these two, beautiful in their sharp contrast of
+deep brown and scarlet against the dainty white and gold.
+
+"Oh, Little Blue Flower, it will not make me change."
+
+I caught the words as I stepped toward the two, and the Indian's soft,
+mournful answer:
+
+"But you are Miss St. Vrain now. You go away in the morning--and I love
+you always."
+
+The heart in me stopped just when all its flood had reached my face.
+
+"Miss St. Vrain," I repeated, aloud.
+
+The two sprang up. That afternoon they had been dressed for a girls'
+frolic in some Grecian fashion. I cannot tell a Watteau pleat from
+window-curtain. I am only a man, and I do not name draperies well. But
+these two standing before me were gowned exactly alike, and yet I know
+that one was purely and artistically Greek, and one was purely and
+gracefully Indian.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am Mr. Clarenden," I managed to say.
+
+At the name Little Blue Flower's eyes looked as they did on that hot May
+night out at Pawnee Rock when she heard Beverly Clarenden's boyish voice
+ring out, defiantly:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+But the great light that had leaped into the girl's eyes died slowly out
+as she gazed at me.
+
+"You are not Beverly Clarenden," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"No, I'm Gail, the little one. Bev is up at Fort Leavenworth now," I
+replied.
+
+She turned away without a word and, gathering her draperies about her,
+sped up the pathway toward the fields above the creek.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And we two were alone together--the dark-eyed girl of my boyhood vision,
+deep-shrined in the boy-heart's holy of holies, and I who had waited for
+her coming. It was the hour of golden sunset and long twilight afterglow
+on the glistening Flat Rock waters and the green prairies beyond the
+Neosho.
+
+A sudden awakening came over me, and in one swift instant I understood
+my boyhood dreams and hopes and visions.
+
+"You will pardon me for coming so abruptly, Miss St. Vrain," I said.
+"Mother Bridget told me I would find you here."
+
+The girl listened to my stumbling words with eyes full of laughter.
+
+"Don't call me Miss St. Vrain, please. Let me be Eloise, and I can call
+you Gail. Even with your height and your broad shoulders you haven't
+changed much. And in all these years I was always thinking of you
+growing up just as you are. Let's sit down and get acquainted again."
+
+She offered me her hand and we sat down together. I could not speak
+then, for one sentence was ringing in my ears--"I was always thinking of
+you." In those years when Beverly and I had put away all thoughts of
+sweethearts--they could not be a part of the plainsman's life before
+us--sweethearts such as older boys in school boasted about, "she was
+always thinking of me." The thought brought a keen hurt as if I had done
+her some great wrong, and it held me back from words.
+
+She could not interpret my silence, and a look of timidity crept over
+her young face.
+
+"I didn't mean to be so--so bold with a stranger," she began.
+
+"You aren't bold, and we aren't strangers. I was just too stupid to
+think anybody else could get out of childhood except old Bev Clarenden
+and myself," I managed to say at last. "I even forgot Mat Nivers, who is
+a young lady now, and Aunty Boone, who hasn't changed a kink of her
+woolly hair. But we couldn't be strangers. Not after that trip across
+the plains and living at old Fort Bent as we did."
+
+I paused, and the memory of that last night at the fort made me steal a
+glance at Eloise to see if she, too, remembered.
+
+She was fair to see just then, with the pink clouds mirrored on the
+placid waters reflected in the pink of her cheeks.
+
+"Do you remember what I called you the first time I saw you?" She
+looked up with shining eyes.
+
+"You called me a big brown bob-cat, and you said I looked like I'd slept
+in the Hondo 'royo all my life. I know I looked it, too. I'll forgive
+you if you will excuse my blunder to-day. What became of that boy,
+Marcos? Have you ever seen him since you left Santa Fé?" I asked.
+
+The fair face clouded, and a look of longing crept into the big, dark
+eyes lifted pleadingly a moment to mine. I wanted to take her in my arms
+right then and look about for something to kill for her sake. Yet I
+would not, for the gold of all the Mexicos, have touched the hem of her
+Grecian robe.
+
+"Yes, I have seen Marcos many times. His father went to old Mexico after
+the war, but the Rameros do not stay long anywhere. Marcos made life
+miserable for me sometimes." She paused suddenly.
+
+"The Rameros. Then he was the son of the man who was my uncle's enemy.
+Maybe you did as much for him, too, sometimes. You had the spirit to do
+it, anyhow," I said, lightly, to hide my real feeling.
+
+"I was a little cat. I'm a lot better now. Let's not go too much into
+that time. Tell me where you have been and where you are going." Eloise
+changed the subject easily.
+
+"I've been in Cincinnati, attending a boys' school for three years. I
+start for Santa Fé in two weeks. My uncle's store is doing a big over
+land business, and he keeps the ox-teams just fanning one another,
+coming and going across the prairies. I'm crazy to go and see the open
+plains again. Cincinnati is a city on stilts, and our little
+Independence-Westport Landing-Kansas City place, as the Cincinnati of
+the great American desert, is also pretty bumpy, the last place on earth
+to put a town--only we can see almost to Santa Fé, New Mexico, from the
+hilltops. Won't it be great to view that mud-walled town again? Bev is
+going, too--to kill a few Indians for our winter's meat, he says, in his
+wicked, blood-thirsty way." So I ran on, glad to be alive in the
+delicious beauty of that spring evening as we together went back over
+the days of our young years.
+
+"Gail, may we take another passenger to-morrow?" Eloise asked, suddenly.
+
+"Why, as many as the stage will hold! There's to be a nun and a priest
+and yourself. I'm chaperon. I could take the priest on my lap if he
+isn't too bulky," I answered.
+
+"I want to take Po-a-be. I can't tell you why now."
+
+The lashes dropped over the brown eyes, and I wondered how she could
+think that I could refuse her anything.
+
+"Oh, we'll take her on faith and the stage-coach. She can come right to
+Castle Clarenden and stay till she gets ready to hurdle off to her own
+'wickie up'. She has grown into a beautiful Indian woman, though I
+couldn't call her a squaw."
+
+"She isn't a squaw. I'm glad to hear you say that. I think it will make
+her very happy to stay at your home for a while. She will miss me a
+little when we leave here, maybe," Eloise said, looking at me with a
+grateful smile that sent a tingle to my fingertips.
+
+"Won't you stay, too?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this beautiful
+girl might slip away as easily as she had come into my life here.
+
+Eloise laughed at my earnestness.
+
+"I couldn't stay long," she said, lightly.
+
+"And why not?" I burst in, eagerly. "What have you in Santa Fé?"
+
+"A little money and a lot of memories," she replied, seriously.
+
+"Oh, I can bring the money up to Kansas for you in an ox-train easily
+enough, and you could blow up the old mud-box of a town and not hurt a
+hair on the head of a single memory. You know you can take them anywhere
+you go. I do mine."
+
+"I'm going to St. Louis, anyhow," Eloise returned, "and you have no
+sacred memories--boys don't care for things like girls do."
+
+"They don't? They don't? And I have forgotten the little girl who was
+afraid one moonlit night out in the court at Fort Bent and asked me that
+I shouldn't ever let Marcos pull her hair. Yes, boys forget."
+
+I laid my hand on her arm and bent forward to look into her face. For
+just one flash those big dark eyes looked straight at me, with something
+in their depths that I shall never forget.
+
+Then she moved lightly from me.
+
+"Oh, all children remember, I suppose. I do, anyhow--a thousand things
+I'd like to forget. It is lovely by the river. Suppose we go down there
+for a little while. I must not stay out here too long."
+
+I took her arm and we strolled down the quiet path in the twilight
+sweetness to where the broad Neosho, brim full from the spring rains,
+swept on between picturesque banks. The afterglow of sunset was flaming
+gorgeously above the western prairies, and the mists along the Neosho
+were lavender and mother-of-pearl. And before all this had deepened to
+purple darkness the full moon would swing up the sky, swathing the earth
+with a softened radiance. All the beauty of this warm spring night
+seemed but a setting for this girl in her graceful Greek draperies, with
+the waving gold of her hair and her dainty pink-and-white coloring.
+
+A new heaven and a new earth had begun for me, and a delicious longing,
+clean and sweet, that swept every commoner feeling far away. What matter
+that the life before me be filled with danger, and all the coarse and
+cruel things of the hard days of the Santa Fé Trail? In that hour I knew
+the best of life that a young man can know. Its benediction after all
+these years of change is on me still. Awhile we watched the flashing
+ripples on the river, and the sky's darkening afterglow. Then we turned
+to the moonlit east.
+
+"Do you know what the people of Hopi-land call this month?" Eloise
+asked.
+
+"I don't know Hopi words for what is beautiful," I replied.
+
+"They call it 'the Moon of the Peach Blossom', and they cherish the time
+in their calendar."
+
+"Then we will be Hopi people," I declared, "for it was in their Moon of
+the Peach Blossom that you grew up for me from the little girl who
+called me a bob-cat down in the doorway of the old San Miguel Church in
+Santa Fé, and from Aunty Boone's 'Little Lees' at old Fort Bent, to the
+Eloise of St. Ann's by the Kansas Neosho."
+
+The sound of a sweet-toned bell told us that we must not stay longer,
+and together we followed the path from the Flat Rock up to the academy
+door. And all the way was like the ways of Paradise to me, for I was in
+the peach-blossom moon of my own life.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE HANDS THAT CLING
+
+
+    The hands that take
+  No weight from your sad cross, oh, lighter far
+  It were but for the burden that they bring!
+  God only knows what hind'ring things they are--
+    The hands that cling.
+                      --ESTHER M. CLARK
+
+
+The next morning three of us waited in the stage before the door of St.
+Ann's Academy. A thin-faced nun, who was called Sister Anita, sat beside
+Eloise St. Vrain, her snowy head-dress, with her black veil and somber
+garments, contrasting sharply with the silver-gray hat and traveling
+costume of her companion. Hints of pink-satin linings to coat-collar and
+pocket-flaps, and the pink facing of the broad hat-brim, seemed borrowed
+from the silver and pink of misty morning skies, with the golden hair
+catching the glint of all the early sunbeams. There was a tenderness in
+the bright face, the sadness which parting puts temporarily into young
+countenances. The girl looked lovingly at the church, and St. Ann's, and
+the green fields reaching up to the edge of the mission premises.
+
+As we waited, Mother Bridget and Little Blue Flower came slowly out of
+the academy door. The good mother's arm was around the Indian girl, and
+her eyes filled with tears as she looked down affectionately at the dark
+face.
+
+Little Blue Flower, true to her heritage, gave no sign of grief save for
+the burning light in her big, dry eyes. She listened silently to Mother
+Bridget's parting words of advice and submitted without response to the
+embrace and gentle good-by kiss on her brown forehead.
+
+The good woman gazed into my face with penetrating eyes, as if to
+measure my trustworthiness.
+
+"You will see that no harm comes to my little Po-a-be. The wolves of the
+forest are not the only danger for the unprotected lambs," she said,
+earnestly.
+
+"I'll do my best, Mother Bridget," I responded, feeling a swelling pride
+in my double charge.
+
+Mother Bridget patted Eloise's hand and turned away. She loved all of
+her girls, but her heart went out most to the Indian maidens whom she
+led toward her civilization and her sacred creed.
+
+As she turned away, the priest who was to go with us came out of the
+church door to the stage.
+
+Little Blue Flower sat with the other two women, facing us, her
+dark-green dress with her rich coloring making as strong a contrast as
+the nun's black robe against the pink-touched silver-gray gown. And the
+Indian face, strong, impenetrable, with a faintly feminine softening of
+the racial features, and the luminous black eyes, gave setting to the
+pure Saxon type of her companion.
+
+I turned from the three to greet the priest and give him a place beside
+me. His face seemed familiar, but it was not until I heard his voice, in
+a courteous good-morning, that I knew him to be the Father Josef who had
+met us on the way into Santa Fé years before, and who later had shown us
+the little golden-haired girl asleep on the hard bench in the old
+mission church of Agua Fria. A page of my boyhood seemed suddenly to
+have opened there, and I wondered curiously at the meaning of it all.
+Life, that for three years had been something of a monotonous round of
+action for a boy of the frontier, was suddenly filling each day with
+events worth while. I wondered many things concerning Father Josef's
+presence there, but I had the grace to ask no questions as we five
+journeyed over the rolling green prairies of Kansas in the pleasant time
+of year which the Hopi calls the Moon of the Peach Blossom.
+
+The priest appeared hardly a day older than when I had first seen him,
+and he chatted genially as we rode along.
+
+"We are losing two of our stars," he said, with a gallant little bow.
+"Miss St. Vrain goes to St. Louis to relatives, I believe, and Little
+Blue Flower, eventually, to New Mexico. St. Ann's under Mother Bridget
+is doing a wonderful work among our people, but it is not often that a
+girl comes here from such a distance as New Mexico."
+
+I tried to fancy what the Indian girl's thoughts might be as the priest
+said this, but her face, as usual, gave no clue to her mind's activity.
+
+Where the Santa Fé Trail crossed the Wakarusa Father Josef left us to
+join a wagon-train going west. Sister Anita, who was hurrying back to
+Kentucky, she said, on some churchly errand, took a steamer at Westport
+Landing, and the three of us came to the Clarenden home on the crest of
+the bluff.
+
+We had washed off our travel stains and come out on the veranda when we
+saw Beverly Clarenden standing in the sunlight, waiting for us. I had
+never seen him look so handsome as he did that day, dressed in the full
+regalia of the plains: a fringed and beaded buckskin coat, dark
+pantaloons held inside of high-topped boots, a flannel shirt, with a
+broad black silk tie fastened in a big bow at his throat, and his
+wide-brimmed felt hat set back from his forehead. Clean-shaven, his
+bright brown hair--a trifle long, after the custom of the
+frontier--flung back from his brow, his blooming face wearing the happy
+smile of youth, his tall form easily erect, he seemed the very
+embodiment of that defiant power that swept the old Santa Fé Trail clean
+for the feet of its commerce to run swiftly along. I am glad that I
+never envied him--brother of my heart, who loved me so.
+
+He was not as surprised as I had been to find the grown-up girl instead
+of the little child. That wasn't Beverly's way.
+
+"I'm mighty glad to meet you again," he said, with jaunty air, grasping
+Eloise by the hand. "You look just as--shall I say promising, as ever."
+
+"I'm glad to see you, Beverly. You and Gail have been my biggest assets
+of memory these many years." Eloise was at ease with him in a moment.
+Somehow they never misunderstood each other.
+
+"Oh, I'm always an asset, but Gail here gets to be a liability if you
+let him stay around too long."
+
+"Here is somebody else. Don't you remember Little Blue Flower?" Eloise
+interrupted him.
+
+"Little Blue Flower! Why, I should say I do! And are you that little
+blossom?"
+
+Beverly's face beamed, and he caught the Indian girl's hand in both of
+his in a brotherly grasp. He wasn't to blame that nature had made him
+frank and unimaginative.
+
+"I haven't forgotten the last time I saw your face in a wide crack
+between two adobe shacks. A 'flower in the crannied wall' in that 'pure
+water' sand-pile in New Mexico. I'd have plucked you out of the cranny
+right then, if old Rex Krane hadn't given us our 'forward march!'
+orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high and sneaky as a cat, hadn't
+been lurking in the middle distance to pluck _me_ as a brand _for_ the
+burning. And now you are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How
+did you ever get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"
+
+Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but at the
+mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright face became
+expressionless.
+
+Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth the
+way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a visit.
+
+"We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on, gaily.
+"Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse packing
+merchandise for the Santa Fé trade. Even big black Aunty Boone, getting
+supper in there, is still a feature of this circus. If only that slim
+Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to
+be here soon, and if all goes well he will go with us to Santa Fé again.
+How about it, Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"
+
+But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below us. Her
+wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were pink with
+excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane striding up the hill,
+with the easy swing of vigorous health. No longer the slender, slouching
+young idol of my boyhood days, with Eastern cut of garment and
+devil-may-care dejection of manner, all hiding a loving tenderness for
+the unprotected, and a daring spirit that scorned danger.
+
+"It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
+tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace pipe."
+
+Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands he
+reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And he held
+them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful eyes.
+
+A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the trail
+in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always looked at Mat when
+he talked to all of us. And I used to think that he must have had a
+little sister like her. Now I knew in an instant why Mat could not meet
+his eyes to-day with that unconcern with which she met them when she was
+a child to me, and he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown
+up. I knew more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by
+the shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
+alive to every tint and odor and musical note for every other wayfarer
+therein.
+
+That was a glorious week that followed, and one to remember on the long
+trail days coming to us. I have no quarrel with the happy youth of
+to-day, but I feel no sense of loss nor spirit of envy when they tell
+me--all young people are my friends--when they tell me of golf-links and
+automobile rides, or even the daring hint of airplanes. To the heart of
+youth the gasolene-motor or the thrill of the air-craft to-day is no
+more than the Indian pony and the uncertain chance of the crude old
+canoe on the clear waters of the Big Blue when Kansas City was a village
+and the Kansas prairies were in their virgin glory.
+
+Bill Banney had come out of the Mexican War, no longer an adventure
+lover, but a seasoned frontiersman. His life knew few of the gentler
+touches. He gave it to the plains, where so many lives went, unhonored
+and unsung, into the building of an enduring empire.
+
+We would have included him in all the frolic of that wonderful week in
+the Moon of the Peach Blossom--but he gave us no opportunity to do so.
+And we were young, and the society of girls was a revelation to us. So
+with the carelessness of youth we forgot him. We forgot many things that
+week that, in Heaven's name, we had cause enough to remember in the
+years that followed after.
+
+"There's a theatrical troupe come up from St. Louis to play here
+to-night," Rex Krane announced, after supper. "Mat, will you let me take
+you down to see the villain get what's due all villains? Then if we have
+to kill off Gail and Bev, it will not be so awkward."
+
+"Can't we all go?" Mat suggested.
+
+"Never mind us, Lady Nivers. Little Blue Flower, may I have the pleasure
+of your company? I need protection to-night," Beverly said, with much
+ceremony.
+
+Little Blue Flower was sitting next to him, or it might not have begun
+that way.
+
+"Oh, say yes. He's no poorer company than that company of actors down
+town," Rex urged.
+
+The Indian girl assented with a smile.
+
+She did not smile often and when she did her eyes were full of light,
+and her red lips and perfect white teeth were beautiful enough for a
+queen to envy.
+
+"Little Lees, it seems you are doomed to depend on Gail or jump in the
+Kaw. I'd prefer the Kaw myself, but life is full of troubles. One more
+can be endured." Rex had turned to Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"Seems to me, having first choice, you might have been more considerate
+of my lot yourself," Eloise declared.
+
+"He was. He saved you from a worse fate when he chose Mat," I broke in.
+
+"May we have a song by the choir?" Beverly interrupted, and with his
+full bass voice he began to roar our some popular tune of that time.
+
+And it went on as it began, the rambles about the rugged bluffs and
+picturesque ravines, where to-day the hard-surfaced Cliff Drive makes a
+scenic highway through the beauty spots of a populous city; the daring
+canoe rides on the rivers; the gatherings of the young folk in the town;
+and the long twilight hours on the crest of the bluff overlooking the
+two great waterways. And as by the first selection, Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower were companions. Nobody could be unhappy with Bev, least of
+all the shy Indian girl with a face full of sunshine, now. And I? I
+walked a pathway strewn with rose petals because the golden-haired
+Little Lees was beside me. Each day was a frolic day for us, teasing one
+another and making a joke of life, and for the morrow we took no thought
+at all.
+
+One evening Eloise St. Vrain and I sat together on the bluff. It was the
+twilight hour, and all the far valley of the Kaw was full of iridescent
+misty lights, with gold-tipped clouds of pale lavender above, and the
+glistening silver of the river below. We could hear Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower laughing together in a big swing among the maples. Aunty
+Boone was crooning some African melodies in the bushes half-way down the
+slope. Rex and Mat had gone to the ravine below to meet Uncle Esmond.
+
+"Little Lees, the first time I ever saw you you were away out there in
+such a misty light as that, and I saw only your hair and your eyes then,
+but as clearly as I see them now."
+
+Eloise turned questioningly toward me, and the light in her dark eyes
+thrilled to the heart of me. In all her stay with us I had hardly spoken
+earnestly of anything before.
+
+"When was that Gail?" she asked, the frivolous spirit gone from her,
+too.
+
+"When I was a little boy, one day at Fort Leavenworth. And when I caught
+sight of you at the door of old San Miguel I knew you," I replied.
+
+The girl turned her face toward the west again and was silent. I felt my
+cheeks flush hotly. I had made her think I was only a dream-sick fool,
+when I had told her of the sacredest moment of my life, and I had for
+the minute foolishly felt that she might understand. How could I know
+that it was I who could not understand?
+
+At last she looked up with a smile as full of mischief as on that day
+when she had called me a big brown bob-cat.
+
+"You must have been having a nightmare in your sleep," she declared.
+
+"I think I was," I replied, testily. "Let me tell you something, Little
+Lees, something really important."
+
+"I don't believe you know one important thing," Eloise replied, "but
+I'll listen, and then if it is I'll tell you something more important."
+
+"I'm willing to hear it now. Tell me first," I replied, wondering the
+while how nature, that gives rough-hewn bearded faces to men, could make
+a face so daintily colored, in its youthful roundness, as hers.
+
+"I'm going to start to St. Louis day after to-morrow at six o'clock in
+the morning. Isn't that important?"
+
+Was there a real earnestness under the lightly spoken words, or did I
+imagine it so? If I had only made sure then--but I was young.
+
+"Important! It's a tragedy! I start west in three days, at eight o'clock
+in the morning," I said, carelessly.
+
+Sometimes the gray shadows fall on us when neither sunlight nor
+moonlight nor starlight is dimmed by any film of vapor. They fell on me
+then, and I shivered in my soul. How could I speak otherwise than
+carelessly and not show what must not be known? And how could the girl
+beside me know that I was speaking thus to keep down the shiver of that
+cold shadow? I suppose it must always be the same old story, year after
+year--
+
+     till the leaves of the judgment book unfold.
+
+"What was that important something you were going to tell me? What Mat
+told me last night when we were watching the moon rise?" Eloise asked.
+
+"That Rex and Mat are going to be married to-morrow evening at early
+candle-lighting--'early mosquito-biting,' Bev calls it. Rex has loved
+Mat since the day when he joined our little wagon-train out of a foolish
+sort of notion that he could protect us children, otherwise his life was
+useless to him. But something in his own boyhood made him pity all
+orphan children. I think it was through neglect in childhood he became
+an invalid at nineteen. He doesn't show the marks of it now."
+
+I paused and looked at the young girl beside me, whose eyes were like
+stars in the deepening gloom of the evening. It was delicious to have
+her look at me and listen to me. It was delicious to live in a rose-hued
+twilight, and I forgot the chill of that gray shadow lurking near.
+
+The next evening was entrancing with the soft air of spring, a night
+made purposely for brides. The wedding itself was simple in its
+appointments, as such events must needs be in the frontier years. All
+day we had worked to decorate the plain stone house, which the deftness
+of Little Blue Flower and the artistic touch of Little Lees turned into
+a spring bower, with trailing vines and blossoms everywhere.
+
+Mat's wedding-gown was neither new nor elaborate, for the affair had
+been too hastily decided on, but Eloise had made it bride-like by
+draping a filmy veil over Mat's bright brown hair, and Little Blue
+Flower had brought her long strands of turquoise beads, "old and
+borrowed and blue," to fulfil the needs of every bride.
+
+In the bridal party Beverly and I walked in front, followed by the two
+girls in the white Greek robes which they had worn at the school frolic
+at St. Ann's, and wearing their headbands, the one of silver and
+turquoise, the other of silver and coral. Then came Rex Krane and Bill
+Banney. Poor Bill! Nobody guessed that night that the bridal blossoms
+were flowers on the coffin of his dead hope. And last of all, Esmond
+Clarenden and Mat Nivers, with shining eyes, leaning on his arm. I had
+never seen Uncle Esmond in evening dress before, nor dreamed how
+splendid a figure he could make for a drawing-room in the costume in
+which he was so much at ease. But the handsomest man of all the large
+company gathered there that night was Jondo, big, broad-shouldered
+Jondo, his deep-blue eyes bright with joy for these two. And in the
+background was Aunty Boone, resplendent in a new red calico besprinkled
+with her favorite white dots, her head turbaned in a yellow silk
+bandana, and about her neck a strand of huge green glass beads. Her eyes
+glistened as she watched that night's events, and her comfortable
+ejaculations of approval were like the low purr of a satisfied cat. Then
+came the solemn pledges, the benediction and congratulations. There was
+merrymaking and singing, cake and unfermented wine of grapes for
+refreshing, and much good will that night.
+
+When the guests were gone and the lights, save one kitchen candle, were
+all out, I had slipped from the dining-room with the last burden of
+dishes, when I paused a minute beside the open kitchen window to let the
+midnight breeze cool my face.
+
+On the side porch, a little affair made to shelter the doorway, I saw
+Beverly Clarenden and Little Blue Flower. He was speaking gently, but
+with his blunt frankness, as he patted the two brown hands clinging to
+his arm. The Indian girl's white draperies were picturesque anywhere. In
+this dramatic setting they were startlingly beautiful, and her face,
+outlined in the dim light, was a thing rare to see. I could not hear her
+words, but her soft Hopi voice had a tender tone.
+
+I was waiting to let them pass in when I heard Beverly's voice, and I
+saw him bend over the little maiden, and, putting one arm around her, he
+drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. I knew it was a brother's
+sympathetic act--and all men know how dangerous a thing that is; that
+there are no ties binding brother to sister except the bonds of kindred
+blood. The girl slipped inside the dining-room door, and a minute later
+a candle flickered behind her bedroom window-blind in the gable of the
+house. I waited for Beverly to go, determined never to mention what I
+had seen, when I caught the clear low voice whose tones could make my
+pulse thresh in its walls.
+
+"Beverly, Beverly, it breaks my heart--" I lost the remainder of the
+sentence, but Beverly's words were clear and direct and full of a frank
+surprise.
+
+"Eloise, do you really care?"
+
+I turned away quickly that I might not hear any more. The rest of that
+night I sat wide awake and staring at the misty valley of the Kaw, where
+silvery ripples flashed up here and there against the shadowy sand-bars.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The steamboat for St. Louis left the Westport Landing wharf at six
+o'clock in the morning, before the mists had lifted over the big yellow
+Missouri. From our bluff I saw the smoke belch from its stacks as it
+pulled away and started down-stream; but only Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+waited to wave good-by to the sweet-faced girl looking back at them from
+its deck. Beverly had overslept, and Little Blue Flower had left an hour
+earlier with a wagon-train starting west toward Council Grove. In her
+room lay the white Grecian robe and the headband of wrought silver with
+coral pendants. On the little white pin-cushion on the dressing-table
+the bright pin-heads spelled out one Hopi word that carries all good
+will and blessing,
+
+LOLOMI.
+
+Twenty-four hours later Rex Krane left his bride, and he and Bill Banney
+and Beverly and I, under command of Jondo, started on our long trip
+overland to Santa Fé. And two of us carried some memories we hoped to
+lose when new scenes and certain perils should surround us.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+"OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+
+
+  And you all know security
+  Is mortal's chiefest enemy.
+
+              SHAKESPEARE.
+
+
+In St. Louis and Kansas City men of Esmond Clarenden's type were sending
+out great caravans of goods and receiving return cargoes across the
+plains--pioneer trade-builders, uncrowned sovereigns of national
+expansion--against whose enduring power wars for conquest are as
+flashlight to daylight. And Beverly Clarenden and I, with the whole
+battalion of plainsmen--"bull-whackers," in the common parlance of the
+Santa Fé Trail--who drove those caravans to and fro, may also have been
+State-builders, as Uncle Esmond had declared we would be. Yet we hardly
+looked like makers of empire in those summer days when we followed the
+great wagon-trains along the prairies and over the mountain passes.
+
+Two of us had come home from school hilariously eager for the trail
+service. But the silent plains made men thoughtful and introspective.
+Days of endless level landscapes under wide-arching skies, and nights
+in the open beneath the everlasting silent stars, give a man time to get
+close to himself, to relive his childhood, to measure human values, to
+hear the voice in the storm-cloud and the song of low-purring winds, to
+harden against the monotonous glare of sunlight, to defy the burning
+heat, and to feel--aye, to feel the spell of crystal day-dawns and the
+sweetness of velvet-shadowed twilights. Beverly and I were typical
+plainsmen in that we never spoke of these things to each other--that is
+not the way of the plainsman.
+
+Our company had been organized at Council Grove--three trains of
+twenty-six wagons each, drawn by three or four spans of mules or yoke of
+oxen, guarded by eightscore of "bull-whackers." And there were a dozen
+or more ponies trained for swift riding in cases of emergency. There
+were also half a dozen private outfits under protection of the large
+body.
+
+The usual election before starting had made Jondo captain of the whole
+company. His was the controlling type of spirit that could have bent a
+battalion or swayed a Congress. For all the commanders and lawmakers of
+that day were not confined to the army and to Congress. Some of them
+escaped to the West and became sovereigns of service there. And Jondo
+had need for an intrepid spirit to rule that group of men, as that
+journey across the plains proved.
+
+On the day before we left Council Grove he was sitting with the heads of
+the other wagon-trains under a big oak-tree, perfecting final plans for
+the journey.
+
+"Gail, I want you to sign some papers here," he said. "It is the
+agreement for the trip among the three companies owning the trains."
+
+I read aloud the contract setting forth how one Jean Deau, representing
+Esmond Clarenden, of Kansas City, with Smith and Davis, representing two
+other companies from St. Louis, together agreed to certain conditions
+regarding the journey.
+
+Smith and Davis had already signed, and as I took the pen, a
+white-haired old trapper who was sitting near by burst out:
+
+"Jean Deau! Jean Deau! Who the devil is Jean Deau?"
+
+Jondo did not look up, but the lines hardened about his mouth.
+
+"It's a sound. Don't get in the way, old man. Go ahead, Clarenden,"
+Smith commanded.
+
+Few questions were asked in those days, for most men on the plains had a
+history, and it was what a man could do here, not what he had done
+somewhere else, that counted.
+
+So I, representing Esmond Clarenden, signed the paper and the two
+managers hurried away. But the old trapper sat staring at Jondo.
+
+"Say, I'm gittin' close to the end of the trail, and the divide ain't
+fur off for me. D'ye mind if I say somethin'?" he asked at last.
+
+Jondo looked up with that smile that could warm any man's heart.
+
+"Say on," he commanded, kindly.
+
+"You aint never signin' your own name nowhere, it sorter seems."
+
+Jondo shook his head.
+
+"Didn't you and this Clarenden outfit go through here 'bout ten years
+ago one night? Some Mexican greasers was raisin' hell and proppin' it up
+with a whisky-bottle that night, layin' fur you vicious."
+
+Jondo smiled and nodded assent.
+
+"Well, them fellers comin' in had a bargain with a passel of Kioways to
+git you plenty if they missed you themselves; to clinch their bargain
+they give 'em a pore little Hopi Injun girl they'd brung along with a
+lot of other Mexicans and squaws."
+
+"I had that figured out pretty well at the time," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"But, Jean Deau--" the old man began.
+
+"No, Jondo. Go on. I'm busy," Jondo interrupted.
+
+The old man's watery eyes gleamed.
+
+"I just want to say friendly-like, that them Kioways never forgot the
+trick you worked on 'em, an' the _tornydo_ that busted 'em at Pawnee
+Rock they laid to your bad medicine. They went clare back to Bent's Fort
+to fix you. Them and that rovin' bunch of Mexicans that scattered along
+the trail with 'em in time of the Mexican War. They'd 'a' lost you but
+fur a little Apache cuss they struck out there who showed 'em to you."
+
+Jondo looked up quickly now. Santan, Beverly's "Satan," whom our
+captain had defended, flashed to my mind, but I knew by Jondo's face
+that he did not believe the old trapper's story.
+
+"Them Kioways is still layin' fur you ever' year, I tell you, an'
+they're bound to git you sooner or later. I'm tellin' ye in kindness."
+
+The old man's voice weakened a little.
+
+"And I'm taking you in kindness," Jondo said. "You may be doing me a
+great service."
+
+"I shore am. Take my word an' keep awake. Keep awake!"
+
+In spite of his drink-bleared eyes and weakened frame, there was a hint
+of the commander in him, a mere shadow of the energy that had gone years
+ago into the wild, solitary life of the trapper who foreran the trail
+days here.
+
+"One more trip to the ha'nts of the fur-bearin' and it's good-by to the
+mountain trails and the river courses fur me," he said, as he rose and
+stalked unsteadily away, and--I never saw him again.
+
+At daybreak the next morning we were off for Santa Fé. Our wagons,
+loaded with their precious burdens, moved forward six abreast along the
+old sun-flower bordered trail. Morning, noon, and evening, pitching camp
+and breaking camp, yoking oxen and harnessing mules, keeping night vigil
+by shifts, hunting buffalo, killing rattlesnakes, watching for signs of
+hostile Indians, meeting incoming trains, or solitary trappers, at long
+intervals, breathing the sweet air of the prairies, and gathering rugged
+strength from sleep on the wholesome earth--these things, with the
+jolliest of fellowship and perfect discipline of our captain, Jondo,
+made this hard, free life of the plains a fascinating one. We were
+unshaven and brown as Indians. We lost every ounce of fat, but we were
+steel-sinewed, and fear, that wearing element that disintegrates the
+soul, dropped away from us early on the trail.
+
+But when the full moon came sweeping up the sky, and all the prairie
+shadows lay flat to earth under its surge of clear light, in the
+stillness of the great lonely land, then the battle with home-sickness
+was not the least of the plains' perils.
+
+One midnight watch of such a night, Jondo sat out my vigil with me. Our
+eighty or more wagons were drawn up in a rude ellipse with the stock
+corraled inside, for we were nearing the danger zone. And yet to-night
+danger seemed impossible in such a peaceful land under such clear
+moonlight.
+
+"Gail, you were always a far-seeing youngster, even in your cub days,"
+Jondo said, after we had sat silent for a long time. "We are moving into
+trouble from to-night, and I'll need you now."
+
+"What makes you think so, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"That train we met going east at noon."
+
+"Mexicans with silver and skins worth double our stuff, what have they
+to do with us?" I inquired.
+
+"One of the best men I have ever known is a Mexican in Santa Fé. The
+worst man I have ever known is an American there. But I've never yet
+trusted a Mexican when you bunch them together. They don't fit into
+American harness, and it will be a hundred years before the Mexican in
+our country will really love the Stars and Stripes. Deep down in his
+heart he will hate it."
+
+"I remember Felix Narveo and Ferdinand Ramero mighty well," I commented.
+
+Jondo stared at me.
+
+"Can't a boy remember things?" I inquired.
+
+"It takes a boy to remember; and they grow up and we forget they have
+had eyes, ears, feelings, memories, all keener than we can ever have in
+later years. Gail, the Mexican train comes from Felix Narveo, and Narveo
+is a man of a thousand. They bring word, however, that the Kiowas are
+unusually friendly and that we have nothing to fear this side of the
+Cimarron. They don't feel sure of the Utes and Apaches."
+
+"Good enough!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, only they lie when they say it. It's a trap to get us. No Kiowa on
+the plains will let a Clarenden train through peacefully, because we
+took their captive, Little Blue Flower. It's a hatred kept alive in the
+Kiowas by one man in Santa Fé through his Mexican agents with Narveo's
+train."
+
+"And that man is Ramero?" I questioned.
+
+"That man is Ramero, and his capacity for hate is appalling. Gail,
+there's only one thing in the world that is stronger than hate, and that
+is love."
+
+Jondo looked out over the moonlit plains, his fine head erect, even in
+his meditative moods.
+
+"When a Mexican says a Kiowa has turned friendly, don't believe him.
+And when a Kiowa says it himself--kill him. It's your only safe course,"
+Jondo said, presently.
+
+"Jondo, why does Ramero stir up the Indians and Mexicans against Uncle
+Esmond?" I asked.
+
+"Because Clarenden drove him into exile in New Mexico before it was
+United States territory," Jondo replied.
+
+"What did he do that for?" I asked.
+
+"Because of what Ramero had done to me," Jondo replied.
+
+"Well, New Mexico is United States territory now. What keeps this Ramero
+in Santa Fé, if he is there?"
+
+"I keep him there. It's safer to know just where a man like that is. So
+I put a ring around the town and left him inside of it."
+
+Jondo paused and turned toward me.
+
+"Yonder comes Banney to go on guard now. Gail, I'll tell you all about
+it some day. I couldn't on a night like this."
+
+The deep voice sent a shiver through me. There was a pathos in it, too
+manly for tears, too courageous for pity.
+
+The days that followed were hard ones. Word had gotten through the camp
+that the Indians were very friendly, and that we need not be uneasy this
+side of the Cimarron country. Smith and Davis agreed with the train
+captain, Jondo, in taking no chances, but most of the one hundred sixty
+bull-whackers stampeded like cattle against precaution, and rebelled at
+his rigid ruling. He had begun to tighten down upon us as we went
+farther and farther into the heart of a savage domain. The night guard
+was doubled and every precaution for the stock was demanded, giving
+added cause for grumbling and muttered threats which no man had the
+courage to speak openly to Jondo's face. I knew why he had said that he
+would need me. Bill Banney was always reliable, but growing more silent
+and unapproachable every day. Rex Krane's mind was on the girl-wife he
+had left in the stone house on the bluff above the Missouri. Beverly was
+too cock-sure of himself and too light-hearted, too eager for an Indian
+fight. Jondo could counsel with Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains,
+but only as a last resort would he dictate to them. So he turned to me.
+
+We were nearing Pawnee Rock, but as yet no hint of an Indian trail could
+we find anywhere. Advance-guards and rear-guards had no news to report
+when night came, and the sense of security grew hourly. The day had been
+very warm, but our nooning was shortened and we went into camp early.
+Everything had gone wrong that day: harness had broken; mules had grown
+fractious; a wagon had upset on a rough bit of the trail; half a dozen
+men, including Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains, had fallen
+suddenly ill; drinking-water had been warm and muddy; and, most of all,
+the consciousness of wide-spread opposition to Jondo's strict ruling
+where there were no signs of danger made a very ugly-spirited group of
+men who sat down together to eat our evening meal. Bets were openly
+made that we wouldn't see a hostile redskin this side of Santa Fé.
+Covert sneers pointed many comments, and grim silence threatened more
+than everything else. Jondo's face was set, but there was a calmness
+about his words and actions, and even the most rebellious that night
+knew he was least afraid of any man among us.
+
+At midnight he wakened me. "I want you to help me, Gail," he said. "The
+Kiowas will gather for us at Pawnee Rock. They missed us there once
+because they were looking for a big train, and it was there we took
+their captive girl. The boys are ready to mutiny to-night. I count on
+you to stand by me."
+
+Stand by Jondo! In my helpless babyhood, my orphaned childhood, my
+sturdy growing years toward young manhood, Jondo had been father,
+mother, brother, playmate, guardian angel. I would have walked on
+red-hot coals for his sake.
+
+"I want you to slip away to-night, when Rex and Bev are on guard, and
+find out what's over that ridge to the north. Don't come back till you
+do find out. We'll get to Pawnee Rock to-morrow. I must know to-night.
+Can you do it? If you aren't back by sunrise, I'll follow your trail
+double quick."
+
+"I'll go," I replied, proud to show both my courage and my loyalty to my
+captain.
+
+The night was gray, with a dying moon in the west, and the north ridge
+loomed like a low black shadow against the sky. There was a weird
+chanting voice in the night wind, pouring endlessly across the open
+plains. And everywhere an eyeless, voiceless, motionless land, whereon
+my pony's hoof-beats were big and booming. Nature made my eyes and ears
+for the trail life, and matched my soul to its level spaces. To-night I
+was alert with that love of mastery that made me eager for this task. So
+I rode forward until our great camp was only a dull blot on the
+horizon-line, melting into mere nothingness as it grew farther away. And
+I was alone on the earth. God had taken out every other thing in it,
+save the sky over my head and the uneven short-grass sod under my feet.
+
+On I went, veering to the northwest from instinct that I should find my
+journey's end soonest that way. Over the divide which hid the wide
+valley of the Arkansas, and into the deep draws and low bluffs of a
+creek with billowy hills beyond, I found myself still instinctively
+_smelling_ my way. I grew more cautious with each step now, knowing that
+the chance for me to slip along unseen gave also the chance for an enemy
+to trail me unseen.
+
+At last I caught that low breathing sound that goes with the sense of
+nearness to life. Leaving my pony by the stream, I climbed to the top of
+a little swell, and softly as a cat walks on a carpet, I walked straight
+into an Indian camp. It was well chosen for outlook near, and security
+from afar. There was a growing light in the sky that follows the
+darkness of moonset and runs before the break of dawn. Everything in
+the camp was dead still. I saw evidences of war-paint and a recent
+war-dance that forerun an Indian attack. I estimated the strength of the
+enemy--possibly four hundred warriors, and noted the symbols of the
+Kiowa tribe. Then, thrilled with pride at my skill and success, I turned
+to retrace my way to my pony--and looked full into the face of an Indian
+brave standing motionless in my path. A breath--and two more braves
+evolved out of gray air, and the three stood stock-still before me. Out
+of the tail of my eye, I caught sight of a drawn bow on either side of
+me. I had learned quickness with firearms years ago, but I knew that two
+swift arrows would cut my life-line before the sound of my ready
+revolver could break the stillness of the camp. Three pairs of snaky
+black eyes looked steadily at me, and I stared back as directly into
+them. Two arrow-points gently touched my ears. Behind me, a tomahawk
+softly marked a ring around my scalp outside of my hat. I was standing
+in a circle of death. At last the brave directly before me slowly drew
+up his bow and pointed it at me; then dropping it, he snapped the arrow
+shaft and threw away the pieces. Pointing to my cocked revolver, he
+motioned to me to drop it. At the same time the bows and tomahawks, of
+the other warriors were thrown down. It was a silent game, and in spite
+of the danger I smiled as I put down my firearms.
+
+"Can't any of you talk?" I asked. "If you are friendly, why don't you
+say so?"
+
+The men did not speak, but by a gesture toward the tallest tepee--the
+chief's, I supposed--I understood that he alone would talk to me.
+
+"Well, bring him out." I surprised myself at my boldness. Yet no man
+knows in just what spirit he will face a peril.
+
+One of the braves ran to the chief's tent, but the remaining five left
+me no chance for escape. It was slowly growing lighter. I thought of
+Jondo and his search at sunrise, and the moments seemed like hours. Yet
+with marvelous swiftness and stillness a score of Indians with their
+chief were mounted, and I, with my pony in the center of a solid ring,
+was being hurried away, alive, with friendly captors daubed with
+war-paint.
+
+There was a growing light in the east, while the west was still dark. I
+thought of the earth as throwing back the gray shadowy covers from its
+morning face and piling them about its feet; I thought of some joke of
+Beverly's; and I wondered about one of the oxen that had seemed sick in
+the evening. I tried to think of nothing and a thousand things came into
+my mind. But of life and death and love and suffering, I thought not at
+all.
+
+Meantime, Jondo waited anxiously for my coming. Rex and Beverly had gone
+to sleep at the end of their watch and nobody else in camp knew of my
+going. At dawn a breeze began to swing in from the north, and with its
+refreshing touch the weariness and worries of yesterday were swept away.
+Everybody wakened in a good humor. But Jondo had not slept, and his
+face was sterner than ever as the duties of the day began.
+
+Before sunrise I began to be missed.
+
+"Where's Gail?" Bill Banney was the first to ask.
+
+"That's Clarenden's job, not mine," another of the bull-whackers
+resented a command of Jondo's.
+
+"Gail! Gail! Anybody on earth seen Gail Clarenden this morning?" came
+from a far corner of the camp.
+
+"Have you lost a man, Jondo?" Smith, still sick in his wagon, inquired.
+
+And the sun was filling the eastern horizon with a roseate glow. It
+would be above the edge of the plains in a little while, and still I had
+not returned.
+
+Breakfast followed, with many questions for the absent one. There was an
+eagerness to be off early and an uneasiness began to pervade the camp.
+
+"Jondo, you'll have to dig up Gail now. I saw him putting out northwest
+about one o'clock," Rex Krane said, aside to the train captain.
+
+"If he isn't here in ten minutes. I'll have to start out after him,"
+Jondo replied.
+
+Ten minutes are long to one who waits. The boys were ready for the camp
+order. "Catch up!" to start the harnessing of teams. But it was not
+given. The sun's level rays, hot and yellow, smote the camp, and a low
+murmur ran from wagon to wagon. Jondo waited a minute longer, then he
+climbed to the wagon tongue at the head of the ellipse of vehicles, his
+commanding form outlined against the open space, his fine face illumined
+by the sunlight.
+
+"Boys, listen to me."
+
+Men listened when Jondo spoke.
+
+"I believe we are in danger, but you have doubted my word. I leave the
+days to prove who is right. At midnight I sent Gail Clarenden to find
+out what is beyond that ridge--a band of men running parallel with us
+that shadows us day by day. If he is not here in ten minutes, we must go
+after him."
+
+A hush fell on the camp. The oxen switched at the first nipping insects
+of the morning, and the ponies and mules, with that horse-sense that all
+horsemen have observed in them at times, stood as if waiting for a
+decision to be made.
+
+Beverly Clarenden was first to speak.
+
+"If anybody goes after Gail, it's _me_, and I'll not stop till I get
+him," he cried, all the brotherly love of a lifetime in his ringing
+voice.
+
+"And me!" "And me!" "And me!" came from a dozen throats. Plainsmen were
+always the truest of comrades in the hour of danger. Nobody questioned
+Jondo's wisdom now. All thought was for the missing man.
+
+Rex Krane had leaped up on the wagon next to Jondo's and stood gazing
+toward the northwest. At this outburst of eagerness he turned to the
+crowd in the corral.
+
+"You wait five minutes and Gail will be here. He's gettin' into sight
+out yonder now," he declared.
+
+Another shout, a rush for the open, and a straining of eyes to make sure
+of the lone rider coming swiftly down the trail I had followed out at
+midnight. And amid a wild swinging of hats and whoops of joy I rode into
+camp, hugged by Beverly and questioned by everybody, eager for my story
+from the time I left the camp until I rode into it again.
+
+"They took me to Pawnee Rock before they let me know anything, except
+that my scalp would hang to the old chief's war-spear if I tried one
+eye-wink to get away from them. But they let me keep my gun, and I took
+it for a sign," I told the company. "They had a lot of ceremony getting
+seated, and then, without any smoking-tobacco or peace-pipe, they gave
+their message."
+
+"Who said the Kiowas wasn't friendly? They already sent us word enough,"
+one man broke in.
+
+Jondo's face, that had been bright and hopeful, now grew grave.
+
+"They said they mean us no harm. They were grateful to Uncle Sam for the
+favors he had given them. That the prairies were wide, and there was
+room for all of us on it," I continued. "In proof, they said that we
+would pass that old rock to-day unharmed where once they would have
+counted us their enemies. And they let me go to bring you all this word.
+They are going northeast into the big hunting-ground, and we are safe."
+
+No man could take defeat better than Jondo.
+
+"I am glad if I was wrong in my opinion," he said. "Fifteen years on
+that trail have made me cautious. I shall still be cautious if I am your
+captain. They did not smoke the peace-pipe. In my judgment the Kiowas
+lied. Two or three days will prove it. Choose now between me and my
+unchanged opinion, and some new train captain."
+
+"Oh, every man makes some bad guesses, Jondo. We'll keep you, of course,
+and it's a joke on you, that's all." So ran the comment, and we
+hurriedly broke camp and moved on.
+
+But with all of our captain's anxiety Pawnee Rock stood like a
+protecting shield above us when we camped at its base, and the long
+bright days that followed were full of a sense of security and good
+cheer as we pulled away for the Cimarron crossing of the Arkansas River,
+miles ahead.
+
+All day Jondo rode wide of the trail, sometimes on one side and
+sometimes on the other, watching for signs of an enemy. And the bluff,
+jovial crowd of bull-whackers laughed together at his holding on to his
+opinion out of sheer stubbornness.
+
+On the second night he asked for a triple guard and nobody grumbled, for
+everybody really liked the big plainsman and they could afford to be
+good-natured with him, now that he was unquestioningly in the wrong.
+
+The camp was in a little draw running down to the river, bordered by a
+mere ripple of ground on either side, growing deeper as it neared the
+stream and flattening out toward the level prairie in its upper
+portion. In spite of the triple guard, Jondo did not sleep that night;
+and, strangely enough, I, who had been dull to fear in the hands of the
+Indians two nights before, felt nervous and anxious, now when all seemed
+secure.
+
+Just at daybreak a light shower with big bullet-like drops of rain
+pattered down noisily on our camp and a sudden flash of lightning and a
+thunderbolt startled the sleepy stock and brought us to our feet, dazed
+for an instant. Another light volley of rain, another sheet of lightning
+and roar of thunder, and the cloud was gone, scattering down the
+Arkansas Valley. But in that flash all of Jondo's cause for anxiety was
+justified. The widening draw was full of Kiowas, hideous in war-paint,
+and the ridges on either side of us were swarming with Indians beating
+dried skins to frighten and stampede our stock, and all yelling like
+fiends, while a perfect rain of arrows swept our camp. With the river
+below us full of holes and quicksands, our enemies had only to hold the
+natural defense on either side while they drove us in a harrowing wedge
+back to the water. If our ponies and mules should break from the corral
+they would rush for the river or be lost in the widening space back from
+the deeper draw, where a well-trained corps of thieves knew how to
+capture them. I had estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two
+nights before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
+Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or hell
+that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake, with the foe
+four to one, man for man against us.
+
+Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write these
+words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning, clear and
+strong above the awful din, for nature made him to command in moments of
+peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one force to guard the corral, one
+to seize and hold either bank and one to charge on the advance of the
+Indians down the draw. We were on the defensive, as our captain had
+planned we should be, and every man of us realized bitterly now how much
+he had done for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.
+
+On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And the
+sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots had sped
+home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid plan of action
+against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds and gods were with
+them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the eastern sky was aflame, casting
+a lurid glare across the edges of the draw as a stream of savages with
+painted faces and naked bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral.
+In an instant the chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and
+our mules and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
+they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the entire
+battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by arrows,
+tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they had cleared the
+ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of hoofs on the hard
+earth told how well the thing had been done and how furiously our
+animals were being whirled away.
+
+"Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"
+
+Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a dozen
+bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling wide, we rode
+like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid our precious
+property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad burst of speed to save
+our own. We were gaining now, and turning the cloud toward the river.
+Another spurt, and we would have them checked, faced about, subdued. I
+saw the end, and as the boys swung forward I urged them on.
+
+"To the river. To the river. Head 'em south!" I cried.
+
+And Rex Krane, like a centaur, swirled by me to do the thing I ordered.
+Behind me rode Beverly Clarenden bareheaded, his face aglow with power.
+As I looked back the dust engulfed him for a moment, and then I heard an
+arrow sing, and a sharp cry of pain. The dust had lifted and Beverly and
+a huge Indian, the tallest I have ever seen, were grappling together, a
+scalping-knife gleaming in the morning light. I dashed forward and
+felled the savage with the butt of my revolver. He leaped to his feet
+and sprang at me just as Beverly, with unerring aim, sent a blaze of
+fire between us. As the savage fell again, my cousin seized his pony;
+and with an arrow still swinging to his arm, dashed into the chase, and
+left it only when the stock, with the loss of less than a fourth, was
+driven up the river's sandy bank and over the swell into the camp
+inclosure.
+
+Meantime, Jondo at the front of his men charged into the very center of
+the savage battle-line as, furious for blood, they threshed across the
+narrow draw--the disciplined arm and courageous heart against a
+blood-thirsty foe. A charge, a falling back, another surge to win the
+lost ground, a steady holding on and sure advance, and then Jondo, with
+one triumphant shout of victory, struck the last fierce blow that sent
+the Kiowas into full flight toward the northwest, and the day was won.
+
+Out by the river, a sudden dullness seized me. I lifted my eyes to see
+Beverly free and Rex directing the charge; cattle, mules, and ponies
+turned back toward safety, and something crawling and writhing about my
+feet; Jondo's great shout of victory far away, it seemed, miles and
+miles to the north; a cloud of dust sweeping toward me; the crimson east
+aflame like the Day of judgment; the dust cloud rolling nearer; the
+yellow sands and slow-moving waters of the Arkansas; and six silent
+stalwart Kiowa braves, with snaky black eyes, looking steadily at me.
+Shadows, and the dust cloud upon me. Then all was night.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+
+
+    Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,
+    But we do not fall on the neck, nor kiss when we come together.
+                          --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+The whole thing was clear now, clear as the big white day that suddenly
+beamed along the prairies, scattering the clouds into gray strands
+against the upper heavens. The treachery of the Kiowas had been cleverly
+executed. Word of their friendliness had come to us through the Mexican
+caravan which could have no object in deceiving us, since it was on its
+way to Kansas City to do business with the Clarenden house there. And
+Jondo had sent a spy by night into the Kiowa camp as if they were not to
+be trusted. Yet they had taken no offense; but, letting me keep my
+firearms, had led me into their council on the top of Pawnee Rock, where
+they had told me in clear English that they had nothing but love for the
+white brothers of the plains. And to prove it we should pass unharmed
+along the trail where once we had wronged them by stealing their
+captive. The prairies were wide enough for all of us and they had
+forgotten--as an Indian always forgets--all malice against us. They had
+sent me back to camp with greetings to my captain, and had gone on their
+way to the heart of the Grand Prairie in the northeast.
+
+It was only Jondo, as he rode wide of the trail for two days, who could
+see any mark of an Indian's track. And we had not believed Jondo. We
+never made that mistake again: But trust in his shrewdness now, however,
+would not bring back the oxen lost and the mules and ponies captured by
+the thieving band of Dog Indians. But there was a greater loss than
+these. The Kiowas had come for revenge. It was blood, not plunder, they
+wanted. A dozen men with arrow wounds reported at roll call, and six men
+lay stark dead under the pitiless sky. Among them Davis of the St. Louis
+train, who had been too ill to take part in the struggle. One more loss
+was there to report, but it was not discovered until later.
+
+Indians seldom leave their dead on the field of battle, but the
+blood-stained sod beside their fallen ponies told a story of heavy toll.
+Blood marked the trail of hoofprints to the northwest in their wild rout
+thither. One comrade they had missed in their flight. He lay down near
+the river where the ground had been threshed over by the stampeded
+stock. He must have been a giant in life, for his was the longest grave
+made in the prairie sod that day. At the river's edge the sands were
+pricked with hoofprints, where the struggle to carry away the dead
+seemed to have reached clear into the thin yellow current of the
+Arkansas, although no trail led out on the far side of the stream.
+
+"That's the very copper cuss with yellow trimmings who had me down when
+that arrow stopped me," Beverly exclaimed. "He was seven feet tall and
+streaked with yellow just that way. I thought ten million rattlesnakes
+and eight billion polecats had hit me. His club was awful. Then I caught
+sight of old Gail's face in the dust-storm, coming back to help me. He
+gave the Indian one dose and got one back, a good hard bill, and then
+the dust closed in and Gail was off again to the northwest out there,
+like a hurricane. I could hear him a mile away. Couldn't I Gail? Where
+is Gail?"
+
+Where?
+
+"Oh, back there with the stock!"
+
+No?
+
+"Out there looking over the draw for things that's got all scattered."
+
+No? Not there?
+
+"Oh, he's getting breakfast. And we are all hungry enough to eat raw
+Kiowas now."
+
+No? No?
+
+"Gail would be helping the wounded, anyhow, or straightening out dead
+men's limbs. Poor fellows--to lose six! It's awful!"
+
+No? No? No?
+
+"Bathing in the river? Where? Over there across the sand-bar?"
+
+Nowhere! Nowhere!
+
+"By the eternal God, they've got him!" Jondo's agonized voice rang
+through the camp.
+
+"We can take care of the wounded, and those fellows lying over there
+don't need us. But, oh, Gail! They'll torture him to death!" Rex Krane's
+voice choked and he ground his teeth.
+
+"Gail, my Gail!" Beverly sat down white and desparingly calm--Beverly,
+whose up-bubbling spirits nobody could repress.
+
+The others wrung their hands and cursed and groaned aloud. Only Bill
+Banney, the unimaginative and stern-hearted, stood motionless with set
+jaws and black-frowning brows. Bill, whom the plains had made hard and
+unfeeling.
+
+"We won't give up Gail, will we, Bill?" Jondo spoke sternly, but his
+face--they said his face was bright with courage and that his eyes shone
+with the inspiration of his will. In all that crowd of eager, faithful
+men, he turned now to Bill Banney. Every man had his place on the
+plains, and Jondo out of the chrism of his own life-struggle knew that
+Bill was bearing a cross in silence, and that his was the martyr spirit
+that finds salvation only in deeds. Bill was the man for the place.
+
+And so while straying animals were slowly recovered, while the camp was
+set in order, while the dead were laid with simple reverence in
+un-coffined graves, and the sick were crudely ministered to, while
+Beverly grew feverish and his arrow wound became a festering sore, and
+Rex Krane, master of the company, cared for every thing and everybody
+with that big mother-heart of his--Jondo and Bill Banney pushed alone
+across the desolate plains toward where the Smoky Hills wrapped in their
+dim gray-blue mist mark the low watershed that rims the western valley
+of the Kaw.
+
+They went alone because skill, and not numbers, could save a captive
+from the hands of the Kiowas, and the sight of a force would mean death
+to the victim before he could be rescued.
+
+A splash of water against a hot hand hanging down; a sense of light, of
+motion; a glimpse of coarse sands and thin straggling weeds beside the
+edge of the stream down which the pathway ran; a sharp aching at the
+base of the brain; an agony of strained muscles--thus slowly I came to
+my senses, to memory, to the knowledge that I was bound hand and foot to
+a pony's back; that the sun was hot, and the sands were hotter, and the
+glare on the waters blinding; that every splash of the pony's hoofs sent
+up glittering sparkles that stabbed my aching eyes like white-hot
+dagger-points; that the black and clotted dirt on the pony's shoulder
+was not mud, but blood; that before and behind were other splashing
+feet, all hiding the trail in the thin current of the wide old Arkansas;
+that the quick turns to follow the water and the need for speed gave no
+consideration to the helpless rider. The image of six pairs of snaky
+black eyes came to help the benumbed brain, and I knew with whom I was
+again captive. But there was no question about the friendly motive now,
+for there was no friendly motive now. And as we pushed on east, Jondo
+and Bill Banney were hurrying toward the northwest, and the space
+between us widened every minute. A wave of helplessness and despair
+swept over me; then a wild up-leaping prayer for deliverance to a
+far-away unpitying Heaven; a sudden sense of the futility of prayer in a
+land the Lord had forgotten; and then anger, hot and wholesome, and an
+unconquered, dominant will to gain freedom or to die game, swept every
+other feeling away, marvelously mastering the sense of pain that had
+ground mercilessly at every nerve. Then came that small voice which a
+man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the blare of
+daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who notes the
+sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death, slow-lingering,
+inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely plain. The glare on the
+waters softened. The heat fell away. The despair and agony lifted. In
+all the world--my world--there was only one, God; not a far, unpitying,
+book-made Lord beyond the height of the glaring blue dome above me. God
+beside me on, the yellow waters of the Arkansas. His hand in my hot
+hand! His strength about me, invisible, unbreakable, infinite. When a
+man enters into that shielding Presence, nothing else matters.
+
+I do not know how many miles we went down-stream, leaving no trail in
+the shallow water or along its hard-baked edges. But by the time we
+dropped that line I had begun to think coherently and to take note of
+everything possible to me, bound as I was, face downward, on the pony's
+back. It was when we had left the river that the hard riding began, and
+a merciful unconsciousness, against which I fought, softened some
+stretches of that long day's journey. We crossed the Santa Fé Trail and
+were pushing eastward out of sight of it to the north. No stop, no word,
+nothing but ride, ride, ride. Truly, I needed the Presence that went
+with me on the way.
+
+At sunset we stopped, and I was taken from my pony and thrown to the
+ground. I managed, in spite of my bonds, to sit up and look about me.
+
+We were on the top of Pawnee Rock. The heat of the day was spent and all
+the radiant tints of evening were making the silent prairies unspeakably
+beautiful. I do not know why I should have noted or remembered any of
+this, save that the mind sometimes gathers impressions under strange
+stress of suffering. I had had no food all day, and when our ponies
+stopped to drink, the agony of thirst was maddening. My tongue was
+swollen and my lips were cracked and bleeding. The leather thongs that
+bound me cut deep now. But--only the men who lived it can know what all
+this meant to the pioneer of the trail.
+
+I have sat on the same spot at sunset many a time in these my sunset
+years; have gazed in tranquil joy at the whole panorama of the heavens
+that hang over the prairies in the opalescent splendor of the
+after-sunset hour; have looked out over the earthly paradise of waving
+grain, all glowing with the golden gleam of harvest, in the heart of the
+rich Kansas wheat-lands--and somehow I'm glad of soul that I foreran
+this day and--maybe--maybe I, too, helped somewhat to build the way--the
+way that Esmond Clarenden had helped to clear a decade before and was
+building then.
+
+The six Indians gathered near me. One of them with unmerciful mercy
+loosened my bonds a trifle and gave me a sup of water. They did not want
+me to die too soon. Then they sat down to eat and drink. I did not shut
+my eyes, nor turn my head. I defied their power to crush me, and the
+very defiance gave me strength.
+
+The chill air of evening blew about the brow of the rock, the twilight
+deepened, and down in the valley the shadows were beginning to hide the
+landscape. But the evening hour is long on the headlands. And there was
+ample time for another kind of council than that to which I had listened
+three mornings ago, when I had been set free to bear a friendly message
+to my chief.
+
+They carried me--helpless in their hands--to where, unseen myself, and
+secured by rock fragment and rawhide thong, I could see far up the trail
+to the eastward. But I could give no signal of distress, save for the
+feeble call of my swollen, thirst-parched throat. Then the six bronze
+sons of the plains sat down before me, and looked at me. Looked! I never
+see a pair of beady black eyes to-day--and there are many such--that I
+do not long to kill somebody, so vivid yet is the memory of those
+murdering eyes looking at me.
+
+At last they spoke--plains English, it is true--but clear to give their
+meaning.
+
+"Chief Clarenden thinks Kiowas forget. He comes with little train across
+the prairies; Kiowas go to meet big train east and fight fair for
+Mexican brothers who hate Chief Clarenden. They do not stop to look for
+little sneaking coyotes when they seek big game. Clarenden steals away
+Kiowas' captive Hopi. Cheat Kiowas of big pay that white Medicine-man
+Josef would give for her. Mexican brothers and Kiowa tribe hate
+Clarenden. They take his son, _you_, to show Clarenden they can steal,
+too. Hopi girl! white brave! all the same."
+
+The speaker's words came deliberately, and he gave a contemptuous wave
+of the hand as he closed. And the six sat silent for a time. Then
+another voice broke the stillness.
+
+"Yonder is your trail. Chief Clarenden and big white chiefs go by to
+Santa Fé to buy and sell and grow rich. Indian sell captives to grow
+rich! No! White chief not let Indians buy and sell. But we do not kill
+white dogs. We leave you here to watch the trail for wagon-trains. They
+may not come soon. They may not see you nor hear you. You can see them
+pass on their way to get rich. You can watch them. Hopi girl would have
+brought us big money. We get no richer. Watch white men go get rich. You
+may watch many days till sun dries your eyes. Nothing trouble you here.
+Watch the trail. No wild animal come here. No water drown you here. No
+fine meat make you ache with eating here. Watch."
+
+The six looked long at me, and as the light faded their black eyes and
+dark faces seemed like the glittering eyes and hooked bills of six great
+dark birds of prey.
+
+When the last sunset glow was in the west the six rose up and walked
+backward, still looking at me, until they passed my range of vision and
+I could only feel their eyes upon me. Then I heard the clatter of
+ponies' feet on the hard rock, the fainter stroke on the thin, sandy
+soil, the thud on the thickening sod. Thump, thump, thump, farther and
+farther and farther away. The west grew scarlet, deepened to purple and
+melted at last into the dull gray twilight that foreruns the darkness of
+night. One ray of pale gold shimmered far along toward the zenith and
+lost itself in the upper heavens, and the stars came forth in the
+blue-black eastern sky. And I was alone with the Presence whose arm is
+never shortened and whose ear grows never heavy.
+
+The trail to the east was only a dull line along the darker earth. I
+looked up at the myriad stars coming swiftly out of space to greet me.
+The starlit sky above the open prairie speaks the voice of the Infinite
+in a grandeur never matched on land or sea.
+
+I thought of Little Blue Flower on that dim-lighted dawning when she had
+showed us her bleeding hands and lashed shoulders. And again I heard
+Beverly's boyish voice ring out:
+
+"Let's take her and take our chances."
+
+And then I was beside the glistening waters of the Flat Rock, and Little
+Blue Flower was there in her white Grecian robe and the wrought-silver
+headband with coral pendants. And Eloise. The golden hair, the soft dark
+eyes, the dainty peach-bloom cheek. Eloise whom I had loved always and
+always. Eloise who loved Beverly--good, big-hearted, sunny-faced
+Beverly, who never had visions. Any girl would love him. Most of all,
+Little Blue Flower. What a loving message she had left us in the one
+word, _Lolomi_. God pity her.
+
+A thousand sharp pains racked my body. I tried to move. I longed for
+water. Then a merciful darkness fell upon me--not sleep, but
+unconsciousness. And the stars watched over me through that black night,
+lying there half dead and utterly alone.
+
+Out to the northwest Jondo and Bill Banney rode long on the trail of the
+fleeing Kiowas. A picture for an artist of the West, these two rough men
+in the garb and mount and trappings of the plainsman, with eyes alert
+and strong faces, riding only as men can ride who go to save a life more
+eagerly than they would save their own. Not in rash haste, but with
+unchecked speed, losing no mark along the trail that should guide them
+more quickly to their goal, so they passed side by side, and neither
+said a word for hours along the way. Night came, and the needs of their
+ponies made them pause briefly. The trail, too, was harder to follow
+now. They might lose it in the darkness and so lose time. And those two
+men were going forth to victory. Not for one single heart-beat did they
+doubt their power to win, and the stead-fast assurance made them calm.
+
+Daylight again, and a fresher trail made them hurry on. They drank at
+every stream and ate a snatch of food as they rode. They reached the
+hurriedly quitted Kiowa camp, and searched for the sign of vengeance on
+a captive there. Jondo knew those signs, and his heart beat high with
+hope.
+
+"They haven't done it yet," he said to his companion. "They want to get
+away first. We are safe for a day."
+
+And they rode swiftly on again.
+
+"There's trouble here," Bill Banney declared as he watched the ground.
+"Too many feet. Could it be here?"
+
+His voice was hardly audible. The two men halted and read the ground
+with piercing eyes. Something had happened, for there had been a
+circling and chasing in and out, and the sod was cut deep with
+hoofprints.
+
+"No council nor ceremony, no open space for anything." Jondo would not
+even speak the word he was bound not to know.
+
+"They've divided, Jondo. Here goes the big crowd, and there a smaller
+one," Bill declared.
+
+"There were a lot of Dog Indians along for thieving. They've split here.
+Seem to have fussed a bit over it, too. And yonder runs the Kiowa trail
+to the north. Here go the Dogs east." Jondo replied. "We'll follow the
+Kiowas a spell," he added, after a thoughtful pause.
+
+And again they were off. It was nearing noon now, and the trail was
+fresher every minute. At last the plainsmen climbed a low swell, halting
+out of sight on the hither side. Then creeping to the crest, they looked
+down on the Indian camp lying in a little dry valley of a lost stream
+whose course ran underground beneath them.
+
+Lying flat on the ground, each with his head behind a low bush on the
+top of the swell, the men read the valley with searching eyes. Then
+Jondo, with Bill at his heels, slid swiftly down the slope.
+
+"Gail Clarenden isn't there. We must take the trail east, and ride
+hard," he said, in a hoarse voice.
+
+And they rode hard until they were beyond the range of the Kiowa
+outposts.
+
+"What's your game, Jondo?" Bill asked, at length.
+
+"They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's lost
+somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't quite
+understand, but we'll go on."
+
+It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the hardship of
+the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected him to give up. The
+sun blazed down in the heat of the late afternoon, and the baking earth
+lay brown and dry beneath the heat-quivering air. There was no sound
+nor motion on the plains as the two faithful brothers--in
+purpose--followed hard on the track of the Dog Indian band.
+
+Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of their
+chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far ahead. Jondo
+and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover was in sight, but if
+the Indians were unsuspicious they might not be discovered. On went the
+outlaw band, and the two white men followed after. Suddenly the Indians
+halted and grouped themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly
+for the cause. Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into
+view. They, too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two
+dull, motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
+White men didn't belong there.
+
+The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing eastward.
+Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band spurted east as
+rapidly.
+
+Jondo looked at Bill.
+
+"I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he cried,
+triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.
+
+"What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.
+
+"Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs out
+yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils getting
+him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the six. They have
+left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting back to join the tribe.
+They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll run down this trail to the south.
+Hurry, Bill! For God's sake, hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't
+see us back here."
+
+That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same clear
+sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green prairies; but
+it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and choking with thirst
+through the awful lengths of that summer day. Fitful unconsciousness,
+with fever and delirium, seeing mocking faces with snaky black eyes,
+looking long at me; food almost touching my lips, and floods of crystal
+waters everywhere just out of reach. I was on the bluff above the river
+at Fort Leavenworth again, watching for the fish on the sand-bars. They
+were Indians instead of fish, and they laughed at me and called me a big
+brown bob-cat. Then Mother Bridget and Aunty Boone would have come to me
+if I could only make them hear me. But the sun beat hot upon my burning
+face, and my swollen lips refused to moan.
+
+And then I looked to the eastward and hope sprang to life within me. A
+wagon-train was crawling slowly toward Pawnee Rock. Tears drenched my
+eyes until I could hardly count the wagons--twenty, thirty, forty. It
+must be far in the afternoon now, and they might encamp here. But they
+seemed to be hurrying. I could not see for pain, but I knew they were
+near the headland now. I could hear the rattle of the wagon-chains and
+the tramp of feet and shouts of the bull-whackers. I tugged masterfully
+at my bonds. It was a useless effort. I tried to shout, but only low
+moans came forth from my parched lips. I strove and raged and prayed.
+The wagons hurried on and on, a long time, for there were many of them.
+Then the rattling grew fainter, the voices were far off, the thud of
+hoof-beats ceased. The train had passed the Rock, never dreaming that a
+man lay dying in sight of the succor they would so gladly have given.
+
+The sun began to strike in level rays across the land, and the air was
+cooler, but I gave no heed to things about me. Death was waiting--slow,
+taunting death. The stars would be kind again to-night as they had been
+last night, but death crouching between me and the starlight, was slowly
+crawling up Pawnee Rock. Oh, so slowly, yet so surely creeping on. The
+sun was gone and a tender pink illumined the sky. The light was soft
+now. If death would only steal in before the glare burst forth. I forgot
+that night must come first. Pity, God of heaven, pity me!
+
+And then the Presence came, and a sweet, low voice--I hear it still
+sometimes, when sunsets soften to twilight, "_My presence shall go with_
+_thee, and I will give thee rest."_ I felt a thrill of triumph pulse
+through my being. Unconquered, strong, and glad is he who trusts.
+
+"I shall not die. I shall live, and in God's good time I shall be
+saved." I tried to speak the words, but I could not hear my voice. My
+pains were gone and I lay staring at the evening sky all
+mother-of-pearl and gold above my head. And on my lips a smile.
+
+And so they found me at twilight, as a tired child about to fall asleep.
+They did not cry out, nor fall on my neck, nor weep. But Bill Banney's
+strong arms carried me tenderly away. Water, food, unbound swollen
+limbs, bathed in the warm Arkansas flow, soft grass for a bed, and the
+eyes of the big plainsman, my childhood idol, gentle as a girl's,
+looking unutterable things into my eyes.
+
+I've never known a mother's love, but for that loss the Lord gave
+me--Jondo.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+
+
+    Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be
+    The dearest bond between my heart and thee.
+                       --ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
+
+
+When we reached the end of the trail and entered a second time into
+Santa Fé the Stars and Stripes were floating lazily above the Palace of
+the Governors. Out on the heights beyond the old Spanish prison stood
+Fort Marcy, whose battlements told of a military might, strong to
+control what by its strength it had secured. In its shadow was La
+Garita, of old the place of execution, against whose blind wall many a
+prisoner had started on the long trail at the word of a Spanish bullet,
+La Garita changed now from a thing of legalized horror to a landmark of
+history.
+
+But the city itself seemed unchanged, and there was little evidence that
+Yankee thrift and energy had entered New Mexico with the new government.
+The narrow street still marked the trail's end before the Exchange
+Hotel. San Miguel, with its dun walls and triple-towered steeple, still
+good guard over the soul of Santa Fé, as it had stood for three sunny
+centuries. The Mexican still drove down the loaded burro-train of
+firewood from the mountains. The Indian basked in the sunny corners of
+the Plaza. The adobe dwellings clustered blindly along little lanes
+leading out to nowhere in particular. The orchards and cornfields,
+primitively cultivated, made tiny oases beside the trickling streams and
+sandy beds of dry arroyos. The sheep grazed on the scant grasses of the
+plain. The steep gray mesa slopes were splotched with clumps of
+evergreen shrubs and piñon trees. And over all the silent mountains kept
+watch.
+
+The business house of Felix Narveo, however, did not share in this
+lethargy. The streets about the Plaza were full of Conestoga wagons,
+with tired ox-teams lying yoked or unyoked before them. Most of the
+traffic borne in by these came directly or indirectly to the house of
+Narveo. And its proprietor, the same silent, alert man, had taken
+advantage of a less restricted government, following the Mexican War, to
+increase his interests. So mine and meadow, flock and herd, trappers'
+snare and Indian loom and forge, all poured their treasures into his
+hands--a clearing-house for the products of New Mexico to swell the
+great overland commerce that followed the Santa Fé Trail.
+
+For all of which the ground plan had been laid mainly by Esmond
+Clarenden, when with tremendous daring he came to Santa Fé and spied out
+the land for these years to follow.
+
+A boy's memory is keen, and all the hours of that other journey hither,
+with their eager anticipation and youthful curiosity, and love of
+surprise and adventure, came back to Beverly Clarenden and me as we
+pulled along the last lap of the trail.
+
+"Was it really so long ago, Bev, that we came in here, all eyes and
+ears?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"No, it was last evening. And not an eyebrow in this Rip Van Winkle town
+has lifted since," Beverly replied. "Yonder stands that old church where
+the gallant knight on a stiff-legged pony spied Little Lees and knocked
+the head off of that tormenting Marcos villain, and kicked it under the
+door-step. Say, Gail, I'd like mighty well to see the grown-up Little
+Lees, wouldn't you? And I'd as soon this was Saint Louis as Santa Fé."
+
+Since the night of Mat's wedding, I had been resolutely putting away all
+thought of Eloise St. Vrain. I belonged to the plains. All my training
+had been for this. I thought I was very old and settled now. But the
+mention of her pet name sent a thrill through me; and these streets of
+Santa Fé brought back a flood of memories and boyhood dreams and
+visions.
+
+"Bev, how many auld-lang-syners do you reckon we'll meet in this land of
+sunshine and _chilly_ beans?" I asked, carelessly.
+
+"Well, how many of them do you remember, Mr. Cyclopedia of Prominent Men
+and Pretty Women?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"Oh, there was Felix Narveo and Father Josef--and Little Blue
+Flower"--A shadow flitted across my cousin's face for a moment, leaving
+it sunny as ever again.
+
+"And there was that black-eyed Marcos boy everywhere, and Ferdinand
+Ramero whom we were warned to step wide of," I went on.
+
+"Oh, that tall thin man with blue-glass eyes that cut your fingers when
+he looked at you. Maybe he went out the back door of New Mexico when
+General Kearny peeped in at the front transom. There wasn't any fight in
+that man."
+
+"Jondo says he is still in Santa Fé." Just as I spoke an Indian swept by
+us, riding with the ease of that born-to-the-horseback race.
+
+"Beverly, do you remember that Indian boy that we saw out at Agua Fria?"
+I asked.
+
+"The day we found Little Lees asleep in the church?" Beverly broke in,
+eagerly.
+
+In our whole journey he had hardly spoken of Eloise, and, knowing
+Beverly as I did, I had felt sure for that reason that she had not been
+on his mind. Now twice in five minutes he had called her name. But why
+should he not remember her here, as well as I?
+
+"Yes, I remember there was an Indian boy, sort of sneaky like, and deaf
+and dumb, that followed us until I turned and stared him out of it.
+That's the way to get rid of 'em, Gail, same as a savage dog," Beverly
+said, lightly.
+
+"What if there are six of them all staring at you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Gail, for the Lord's sake forget that!"
+
+Beverly cried, affectionately. "When you've got an arrow wound rotting
+your arm off and six hundred and twenty degrees of fever in your blood,
+and the son of your old age is gone for three days and nights, and you
+don't dare to think where, you'll know why a fellow doesn't want to
+remember." There were real tears in the boy's eyes. Beverly was deeper
+than I had thought.
+
+"Well, to change gradually, I wonder if that centaur who just passed us
+might be that same Indian of Agua Fria of long ago."
+
+"He couldn't be," Beverly declared, confidently. "That boy got one
+square look at my eagle eye and he never stopped running till he jumped
+into the Pacific Ocean. 'I shall see him again over there.'" Half
+chanting the last words, Beverly, boy-hearted and daring and happy,
+cracked his whip, and our mule-team began to prance off in mule style
+the journey's latter end.
+
+Oh, Beverly! Beverly! Why did that day on the parade-ground at Fort
+Leavenworth and a boy's pleading face lifted to mine, come back to me at
+that moment? Strange are the lines of life. I shall never clearly read
+them all.
+
+Down in the Plaza a tall, slender young man was sitting in the shade,
+idly digging at the sod with an open pocket-knife. There was something
+magnetic about him, the presence that even in a crowd demands a second
+look.
+
+He was dressed in spotless white linen, and with his handsome mustache,
+his well-groomed black hair, and sparkling black eyes, he was a true
+type of the leisure son of the Spanish-Mexican grandee. He stared at
+our travel-stained caravan as it rolled down the Plaza's edge, but his
+careless smile changed to an insolent grin, showing all his perfect
+teeth as he caught sight of Beverly and me.
+
+We laid no claims to manly beauty, but we were stalwart young fellows,
+with the easy strength of good health, good habits, clear conscience,
+and the frank faces of boys reared on the frontier, and accustomed to
+its dangers by men who defied the very devil to do them harm. But even
+in our best clothes, saved for the display at the end of the trail, we
+were uncouth compared to this young gentleman, and our tanned faces and
+hard brown hands bespoke the rough bull-whacker of the plains.
+
+As our train halted, the young man lighted a cigar and puffed the smoke
+toward us, as if to ignore our presence.
+
+"Its mamma has dressed it up to go and play in the park, but it mustn't
+speak to little boys, nor soil its pinafore, nor listen to any naughty
+words. And it couldn't hold its own against a kitten. Nice little
+clothes-horse to hang white goods on!"
+
+Beverly had turned his back to the Plaza and was speaking in a low tone,
+with the serious face and far-away air of one who referred to a thing of
+the past.
+
+"Bev, you are a mind-reader, a character-sketcher--" I began, but
+stopped short to stare into the Plaza beyond him.
+
+The young man had sprung to his feet and stood there with flashing eyes
+and hands clenched. Behind him was the same young Indian who had passed
+us on the trail. He was lithe, with every muscle trained to strength and
+swiftness and endurance.
+
+He had muttered a word into the young white man's ear that made him
+spring up. And while the face of the Indian was expressionless, the
+other's face was full of surprise and anger; and I recognized both faces
+in an instant.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, there are two auld-lang-syners behind you right now.
+One is Marcos Ramero, and the other is Santan of Bent's Fort," I said,
+softly.
+
+Beverly turned quickly, something in his fearless face making the two
+men drop their eyes. When we looked again they had left the Plaza by
+different ways.
+
+After dinner that evening Jondo and Bill Banney hurried away for a
+business conference with Felix Narveo. Rex and Beverly also disappeared
+and I was alone.
+
+The last clear light of a long summer day was lingering over the valley
+of the Rio Grande, and the cool evening breeze was rippling in from the
+mountains, when I started out along the narrow street that made the
+terminal of the old Santa Fé Trail. I was hardly conscious of any
+purpose of direction until I came to the half-dry Santa Fé River and saw
+the spire of San Miguel beyond it. In a moment the same sense of loss
+and longing swept over me that I had fought with on the night after
+Mat's wedding, when I sat on the bluff and stared at the waters of the
+Kaw flowing down to meet the Missouri. And then I remembered what Father
+Josef had said long ago out by the sandy arroyo:
+
+"Among friends or enemies, the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+I felt the strong need for a haven from myself as I crossed the stream
+and followed the trail up to the doorway of San Miguel.
+
+The shadows were growing long, few sounds broke the stillness of the
+hour, and the spirit of peace brooded in the soft light and sweet air. I
+had almost reached the church when I stopped suddenly, stunned by what I
+saw. Two people were strolling up the narrow, crooked street that
+wanders eastward beside the building--a tall, slender young man in white
+linen clothes and a girl in a soft creamy gown, with a crimson scarf
+draped about her shoulders. They were both bareheaded, and the man's
+heavy black hair and curling black mustache, and the girl's coronal of
+golden braids and the profile of her fair face left no doubt about the
+two. It was Marcos Ramero and Eloise St. Vrain. They were talking
+earnestly; and in a very lover-like manner the young man bent down to
+catch his companion's words.
+
+Something seemed to snap asunder in my brain, and from that moment I
+knew myself; knew how futile is the belief that miles of prairie trail
+and strength of busy days can ever cast down and break an idol of the
+heart.
+
+In a minute they had passed a turn in the street, and there was only
+sandy earth and dust-colored walls and a yellow glare above them, where
+a moment ago had been a shimmer of sunset's gold.
+
+"The one haven of safety always is the holy sanctuary."
+
+Father Josef's words sounded in my ears, and the face of old San Miguel
+seemed to wear a welcoming smile. I stepped into the deep doorway and
+stood there, aimless and unthinking, looking out toward where the Jemez
+Mountains were outlined against the southwest horizon. Presently I
+caught the sound of feet, and Marcos Ramero strode out of the narrow
+street and followed the trail into the heart of the city.
+
+I stared after him, noting the graceful carriage, the well-fitting
+clothes, and the proud set of the handsome head. There was no doubt
+about him. Did he hold the heart of the golden-haired girl who had
+walked into my life to stay? As he passed out of my sight Eloise St.
+Vrain came swiftly around the corner of the street to the church door,
+and stopped before me in wide-eyed amazement. Eloise, with her clinging
+creamy draperies, and the vivid red of her silken scarf, and her
+glorious hair.
+
+"Oh, Gail Clarenden, is it really you?" she cried, stretching out both
+hands toward me with a glad light in her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Little Lees, it is I."
+
+I took both of her hands in mine. They were soft and white, and mine
+were brown and horny, but their touch sent a thrill of joy through me.
+She clung tightly to my hands for an instant. Then a deeper pink swept
+her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes and stepped back.
+
+"They told me you were--lost--on the way; that some Kiowas had killed
+you."
+
+She lifted her face again, and heaven had not anything better for me
+than the depths of those big dark eyes looking into mine.
+
+"Who told you, Eloise?"
+
+The girl looked over her shoulder apprehensively, and lowered her voice
+as she replied:
+
+"Marcos Ramero."
+
+"He's a liar. I am awfully alive, and Marcos Ramero knows I am, for he
+saw me and recognized me down in the Plaza this afternoon," I declared.
+
+Just then the church door opened and a girl in Mexican dress came out. I
+did not see her face, nor notice which way she took, for a priest
+following her stepped between us. It was Father Josef.
+
+"My children, come inside. The holy sanctuary offers you a better
+shelter than the open street."
+
+I shall never forget that voice, nor hear another like it. Inside, the
+candles were burning dimly at the altar. The last rays of daylight came
+through the high south windows, touching the carved old rafters and gray
+adobe with a red glow. Long ago human hands, for lack of trowels, had
+laid that adobe surface on the rough stone--hands whose imprint is
+graven still on those crudely dented walls.
+
+We sat down on a low seat inside of the doorway, and Father Josef passed
+up the aisle to the altar, leaving us there alone.
+
+"Eloise, Marcos Ramero is your friend, and I beg your pardon for
+speaking of him as I did."
+
+I resented with all my soul the thought of this girl caring for the son
+of the man who in some infamous way had wronged Jondo, but I had no
+right to be rude about him.
+
+"Gail, may I say something to you?" The voice was as a pleading call and
+the girl's farce was full of pathos.
+
+"Say on, Little Lees," was all that I could venture to answer.
+
+"Do you remember the day you came in here and threw Marcos Ramero out of
+that door?"
+
+"I do," I replied.
+
+"Would you do it again, if it were necessary? I mean--if--" the voice
+faltered.
+
+I had heard the same pleading tone on the night of Mat's wedding when
+Eloise and Beverly were in the little side porch together. I looked up
+at the red light on the old church rafters and the rough gray walls. How
+like to those hand-marked walls our memories are, deep-dented by the
+words they hold forever! Then I looked down at the girl beside me and I
+forgot everything else. Her golden hair, her creamy-white dress, and
+that rich crimson scarf draped about her shoulders and falling across
+her knees would have made a Madonna's model that old Giovanni Cimabue
+himself would have joyed to copy.
+
+"Is it likely to be necessary? Be fair with me, Eloise. I saw you two
+strolling up that little goat-run of a street out there just now.
+Judging from the back of his head, Marcos looked satisfied. I shouldn't
+want to interfere nor make you any trouble," I said, earnestly.
+
+"It is I who should not make you any trouble, but, oh, Gail, I came here
+this evening because I was afraid and I didn't know where else to go,
+and I found you. I thought you were dead somewhere out on the Kansas
+prairie. Maybe it was to help me a little that you came here to-night."
+
+Her hands were gripped tightly and her mouth was firm-set in an effort
+to be brave.
+
+"Why, Eloise, I'd never let Marcos Ramero, nor anybody else, make you
+one little heart-throb afraid. If you will only let me help you, I
+wouldn't call it trouble; I'd call it by another name." The longing to
+say more made me pause there.
+
+The light was fading overhead, but the church lamps gave a soft glow
+that seemed to shield off the shadowy gloom.
+
+"Father Josef came all the way from New Mexico to St. Ann's to have me
+come back here, and Mother Bridget sent Sister Anita, you remember her,
+up to St. Louis to come with me by way of New Orleans. I didn't tell you
+that I might be here when your train came in overland because--because
+of some things about my own people--"
+
+The fair head was bowed and the soft voice trembled.
+
+"Don't be afraid to tell me anything, Little Lees," I whispered,
+assuringly.
+
+"I never saw my father, but my mother was very beautiful and loving, and
+we were so happy together. I was still a very little girl when she fell
+sick and they took me away from her. I never knew when she died nor
+where she was buried. Ferdinand Ramero had charge of her property. He
+controlled everything after she went away, and I have always lived in
+fear of his word. I am helpless when he commands, for he has a strange
+power over minds; and as to Marcos--you know what a little cat I was. I
+had to be to live with him. It wasn't until we were all at Bent's Fort
+that I got over my fear of you and Beverly. The day you threw Marcos out
+of here was the first time I ever had a champion to defend me."
+
+I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her what I dared not think she
+would let me say. So I listened in sympathetic silence.
+
+"Then came an awful day out at Agua Fria, and Father Josef took me in
+his arms as he would take a baby, and sang me to sleep with the songs my
+mother loved to sing. I think it must have been midnight when I wakened.
+It was dreary and cold, and Esmond Clarenden and Ferdinand Ramero were
+there, and Father Josef and Jondo."
+
+And then she told me, as she remembered them, the happenings of that
+night at Agua Fria, the same story that Jondo told me later. But until
+that evening I had known nothing of how Eloise had come to us.
+
+"You know the rest," Eloise went on "I have had a boarding-school life,
+and no real friends, except the Clarenden family, outside of these
+schools."
+
+"You poor little girl! One of the same Clarenden family is ready to be
+your friend now," I said, tenderly, remembering keenly how Uncle Esmond
+and Jondo had loved and protected three orphan children.
+
+"The Rameros think nobody but a Ramero can do that now. Marcos is very
+much changed. He has been educated in Europe, is handsome, and courtly
+in his manners, and as his father's heir he will be wealthy. He came
+to-night to ask me, to urge and plead with me, to marry him." Eloise
+paused.
+
+"Do you need the defense of a bull-whacker of the plains against these
+things?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, I could depend on myself if it were only Marcos. He comes with
+polished ways and pleasing words," Eloise replied. "It is his father's
+iron fist back of him that strikes at me through his graciousness. He
+tells me that all the St. Vrain money, which he controls by the terms of
+my father's will, he can give to the Church, if he chooses, and leave me
+disinherited."
+
+"We don't mind that a bit as a starter up in Kansas. Come out on our
+prairies and try it," I suggested.
+
+"But, Gail, that isn't all. There is something worse, dreadfully worse,
+that I cannot tell you, that only the Rameros know, and hold like a
+sword over my head. If I marry Marcos his father will destroy all
+evidence of it and I shall have a handsome, talented, rich husband."
+Eloise bowed her head and clasped her hands, crushed by the misery of
+her lot.
+
+"And if you refuse to marry this scoundrel?" I asked, bluntly.
+
+"Then I will be a penniless outcast. The Rameros are powerful here, and
+the Church will be with them, for it will get my inheritance. I am
+helpless and alone and I don't know what to do."
+
+I think I had never known what anger meant before. This beautiful girl,
+homeless, and about to be robbed of her fortune, reared in luxury, with
+no chance for developing self-reliance and courage, was being hemmed in
+and forced to a marriage by threats of poverty and a secret something
+against which she was powerless. All the manhood in me rallied to her
+cause, and she was an hundredfold dearer to me now, in her helplessness.
+
+"Eloise, I'm a horny-handed driver of a bull-team on the Santa Fé Trail,
+but you will let me help you if I can. So far as your money is
+concerned, there's a lot of it on earth, even if the Church should grab
+up your little bit because Ferdinand Ramero says your father's will
+permits it. There are evil representatives in every Church, no matter
+what its name may be, Catholic, Protestant, Indian, or Jew, but Father
+Josef up there is bigger than his priestly coat, and you can trust that
+size anywhere. And as to the knowledge of this 'something' known just to
+Ferdinand Ramero, if he is the only one who knows it, it is too small to
+get far, if it were turned loose. And any man who would use such
+infamous means to get what he wants is too small to have much influence
+if he doesn't get it. This is a big, wide, good world, Little Lees, and
+the father of Marcos Ramero, with all his power and wealth, has a short
+lariat that doesn't let him graze wide. Jondo holds the other end of
+that lariat, and he knows."
+
+Eloise listened eagerly, but her face was very white.
+
+"Gail, you don't know the Ramero blood. I am helpless and terrified with
+them in spite of their suave manners and flattering words. Why did
+Father Josef bring me back here if the Church is not with them? And then
+that awful shadow of some hidden thing that may darken my life. I know
+their cruel, pitiless hearts. They stop at nothing when they want their
+way. I have known them to do the most cold-blooded deeds."
+
+Poor Eloise! The net about her had been skilfully drawn.
+
+"I don't know Father Josef's motive, but I can trust him. And no shadow
+shall trouble you long, Little Lees. Jondo and Uncle Esmond tote
+together,' Aunty Boone said long ago. They know something about the
+Ramero blood, and Jondo has promised to tell me his story some day. He
+must do it to-night, and to-morrow we'll see the end of this tangle.
+Trust me, Eloise," I said, comfortingly.
+
+"But, Gail, I'm afraid Ferdinand will kill you if you get in his way."
+Eloise clung to my arm imploringly.
+
+"Six big Kiowas got fooled at that job. Do you think this thin streak of
+humanity would try it?" I asked, lightly.
+
+Eloise stood up beside me.
+
+"I must go away now," she said.
+
+"Then I'll go with you. Thank you, Father Josef, for your kindness," I
+said as the priest came toward us.
+
+"You are welcome, my son. In the sanctuary circle no harm can come.
+Peace be with both of you."
+
+There was a world of benediction in his deep tones, and his smile was
+genial, as he followed us to the street and stood as if watching for
+some one.
+
+"I will meet you at San Miguel's to-morrow afternoon, Gail," Eloise
+said, as we reached a low but pretentious adobe dwelling. "This is my
+home now."
+
+"Your new Mexican homes are thick-walled, and you live all on the
+inside," I said, as we paused at the doorway. "They make me think of the
+lower invertebrates, hard-shelled, soft-bodied animals. Up on the Kansas
+prairies and the Missouri bluffs we have a central vetebra--the family
+hearth-stone--and we live all around it. That is the people who have
+them do. There isn't much home life for a freighter of the plains
+anywhere. Good by, Little Lees." I took her offered hand. "I'm glad you
+have let me be your friend, a hard-shelled bull-whacker like me."
+
+The street was full of shadows and the evening air was chill as the door
+closed on that sweet face and cloud of golden hair. But the pressure of
+warm white fingers lingered long in my sense of touch as I retraced my
+steps to the trail's end. At the church door I saw Father Josef still
+waiting, as if watching for somebody.
+
+All that Eloise had told me ran through my mind, but I felt sure that
+neither financial nor churchly influence in Santa Fé could be turned to
+evil purposes so long as men like Felix Narveo and Father Josef were
+there. And then I thought of Esmond Clarenden, himself neither Mexican
+nor Roman Catholic, who, nevertheless, drew to himself such
+fair-dealing, high-minded men as these, always finding the best to aid
+him, and combating the worst with daring fearlessness. Surely with the
+priest and the merchant and Jondo as my uncle's representative, no harm
+could come to the girl whom I knew that I should always love.
+
+And with my mind full of Eloise and her need I sought out Jondo and
+listened to his story.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OPENING THE RECORD
+
+
+  Fighting for leave to live and labor well,
+  God flung me peace and ease.
+                  --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+I found Jondo in the little piazza opening into the hotel court.
+
+"Where did you leave Krane and Bev?" he asked, as I sat down beside him.
+
+"I didn't leave them; they left me," I answered.
+
+"Oh, you young bucks are all alike. You know just enough to be good to
+yourselves. You don't think much about anybody else," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"I think of others, Jondo, and for that reason I want you to tell me
+that story about Ferdinand Ramero that you promised to tell me one night
+back on the trail."
+
+Jondo gave a start.
+
+"I'd like to forget that man, not talk about him," he replied.
+
+"But it is to help somebody else, not just to be good to myself, that I
+want to know it," I insisted, using his own terms. And then I told him
+what Eloise had told me in the San Miguel church.
+
+"Are the Ramero's so powerful here that they can control the Church in
+their scheme to get what they want?" I asked.
+
+"It would be foolish to underestimate the strength of Ferdinand Ramero,"
+Jondo replied, adding, grimly, "It has been my lot to know the best of
+men who could make me believe all men are good, and the worst of men who
+make me doubt all humanity." He clenched his fists as if to hold himself
+in check, and something, neither sigh nor groan nor oath nor prayer, but
+like them all, burst from his lips.
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the green
+prairies and the open plains, and the danger-stimulus of the old Santa
+Fé Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard,
+rebellious heart, and make you see things big, and despise the narrow
+little crooks in your path."
+
+One must have known Jondo, with his bluff manner and sunny smile and
+daring spirit, to feel the force, of these brave sad words. I felt
+intuitively that I had laid bare a wound of his by my story.
+
+"It is for Eloise, not for my curiosity, that I have come to you," I
+said, gently.
+
+"And you didn't come too soon, boy." Jondo was himself in a moment. "It
+is another cruel act in the old tragedy of Ramero against Clarenden and
+others."
+
+"Will the Church be bribed by the St. Vrain estate and urge this
+wedding?" I asked.
+
+"The Church considers money as so much power for the Kingdom. I have
+heard that the St. Vrain estate was left in Ramero's hands with the
+proviso that if Eloise should marry foolishly before she was twenty-five
+she, would lose her property. Do you see the trick in the game, and why
+Ramero can say that if he chooses he can take her heritage away from
+her? But as he keeps everything in his own hands it is hard to know the
+truth about anything connected with money matters."
+
+"Would Father Josef be party to such a transaction?" I asked, angrily.
+
+"Ramero thinks so, but he is mistaken," Jondo replied.
+
+"What makes you think he won't be?" I insisted.
+
+"Because I knew Father Josef before he became a priest, and why he took
+the vows," Jondo declared. "Unless a man brings some manhood to the
+altar, he will not find it in the title nor the dress there, it makes no
+difference whether he be Catholic, Protestant, Hebrew, or heathen.
+Father Josef was a gentleman before he was a priest."
+
+"Well, if he's all right, why did he bring Eloise back here into the
+heart of all this trouble?" I questioned.
+
+Jondo sat thinking for a little while, then he said, assuringly:
+
+"I don't know his motive, unless he felt he could protect her here
+himself; but I tell you, my boy, he can be trusted. Let me tell you
+something, Gail. When Esmond Clarenden and I were boys back in a New
+England college we knew two fellows from the Southwest whose fathers
+were in official circles at Washington. One was Felix Narveo,
+thoroughbred Mexican, thoroughbred gentleman, a bit lacking in
+initiative sometimes, for he came from the warmer, lazier lands, but as
+true as the compass in his character. The other fellow was Dick Verra,
+French father, English mother; I think he had a strain of Indian blood
+farther back somewhere, but he would have been a prince in any tribe or
+nation. A happy, wholesome, red-blooded, young fellow, with the world
+before him for his conquest.
+
+"We knew another fellow, too, Fred Ramer, self-willed, imperious,
+extravagant in his habits, greedy and unscrupulous; but he was handsome
+and masterful, with a compelling magnetism that made us admire him and
+bound us to him. He had never known what it meant to have a single wish
+denied him. And with his make-up, he would stop at nothing to have his
+own way, until his wilful pride and stubbornness and love of luxury
+ruined him. But in our college days we were his satellites. He was
+always in debt to all of us, for money was his only god and we never
+dared to press him for payment. The only one of us who ever overruled
+him was Dick Verra. But Dick was a born master of men. There was one
+other chum of ours, but I'll tell you about him later. Boys together, we
+had many escapades and some serious problems, until by the time our
+college days were over we were bound together by those ties that are
+made in jest and broken with choking voices and eyes full of tears."
+
+Jondo paused and I waited, silent, until he should continue.
+
+"Things happened to that little group of college men as time went on.
+You know your uncle's life, leading merchant of Kansas City and the
+Southwest; and mine, plainsman and freighter on the Santa Fé Trail.
+Felix Narveo's history is easily read. Esmond Clarenden came down here
+at the outbreak of the Mexican War, and together he and Narveo laid the
+foundation for the present trail commerce that is making the country at
+either end of it rich and strong. Dick Verra is now Father Josef." Jondo
+paused as if to gather force for the rest of the story. Then he said:
+
+"Back at college we all knew Mary Marchland, a beautiful Louisiana girl
+who visited in Washington and New England, and all of us were in love
+with her. When our life-lines crossed again Clarenden had come to St.
+Louis. About that time his two older brothers and their wives died
+suddenly of yellow fever, leaving you and Beverly alone. It was Felix
+Narveo who brought you up to St. Louis to your uncle."
+
+"I remember that. The steamboat, and the Spanish language, and Felix
+Narveo's face. I recalled that when I saw him years ago," I exclaimed.
+
+"You always were all eyes and ears, remembering names and faces, where
+Beverly would not recall anything," Jondo declared.
+
+"And what became of your Fred Ramer?" I asked.
+
+"He is Ferdinand Ramero here. He married Narveo's sister later. She is
+not the mother of Marcos, but a second wife. She owned a tract of land
+inherited from the Narveo estate down in the San Christobal country.
+There is a lonely ranch house in a picturesque cañon, and many acres of
+grazing-land. She keeps it still as hers, although her stepson, Marcos,
+claims it now. It is for her sake that Narveo doesn't dare to move
+openly against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
+with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
+freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's why I
+knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at Pawnee Rock. I
+could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He joined the Catholic
+Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But the traits of his young
+manhood, intensified, are still his. He is handsome, and attractive, and
+rich, and influential, but he is also cold-blooded, and greedy for money
+until it is his ruling passion, villainously unscrupulous, and
+mercilessly unforgiving toward any one who opposes his will; and his
+capacity for undying hatred is appalling."
+
+And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of Eloise St.
+Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.
+
+"The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in his life
+that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he went mad with
+jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters than whisky and opium,
+once they get a man down."
+
+Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one who,
+from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an enemy and turn
+away.
+
+"When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her life. He
+came between her and the man she loved with such adroit cruelty that
+they were separated, and although they loved each other always, they
+never saw each other again. Through a terrible network of
+misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by the way, was the
+other college chum I spoke of just now. He and his foster-brother,
+Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father. But their guardian, the
+elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their property and there was bitter
+enmity between them and him. Theron and Mary were the parents of Eloise
+St. Vrain. It is no wonder that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland
+for a mother. Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his
+property fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend
+to Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy marriage. In
+that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give the estate to the
+Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died, nor where she is buried,
+except Fred and his confessor, Father Josef."
+
+"How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a truer
+eye and a sweeter smile than my big Jondo.
+
+"Fred Ramer was desperately in need of money when he was plotting to
+darken the life of Mary Marchland--that was just before the birth of
+Eloise--and through her sorrow to break the heart of the man whom she
+loved--I said we college boys were all in love with her, you remember.
+Let me make it short now. One night Fred's father was murdered, by whom
+was never exactly proven. But he was last seen alive with his ward,
+Theron St. Wain, who, with his foster-brother, Bertrand, thoroughly
+despised him for his plain robbery of their heritage.
+
+"The case was strong against Theron, for the evidence was very damaging,
+and it would have gone hard with him but for the foster-brother.
+Bertrand St. Wain took the guilt upon himself by disappearing suddenly.
+He was supposed to have drowned himself in the lower Mississippi, for
+his body, recognized only by some clothing, was recovered later in a
+drift and decently buried. So _he_ was effaced from the records of man."
+
+In the dim light Jondo's blue eyes were like dull steel and his face was
+a face of stone, but he continued:
+
+"Just here Clarenden comes into the story. He learned it through Felix
+Narveo, and Felix got it from the Mexicans themselves, that Fred Ramer
+had plotted with them to put his father out of the way--I said he was
+desperately in need of money--and to lay the crime on Theron St.
+Vrain, by whose disgrace the life of Mary Marchland would be blighted,
+and Fred would have his revenge and his father's money. Narveo was
+afraid to act against Ramer, but nothing ever scared Esmond Clarenden
+away from what he wanted to do. Through his friendship for St. Vrain, to
+whom some suspicion still clung, and that lost foster-brother, Bertrand,
+he turned the screws on Fred Ramer that drove him out of the country. He
+landed, finally, at Santa Fé, and became Ferdinand Ramero. He managed by
+his charming manners to enchant the sister of Felix Narveo--and you know
+the rest."
+
+Jondo paused.
+
+"Didn't Felix Narveo go to Fort Leavenworth once, just before Uncle
+Esmond brought us with him to Santa Fé?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, he went to warn Clarenden not to leave you there unprotected, for
+a band of Ramero's henchmen were on their way then to the Missouri
+River--we passed them at Council Grove--to kidnap you three and take you
+to old Mexico," Jondo said. "An example of Fred's efforts to get even
+with Clarenden and of the loyalty of Narveo to his old college chum. The
+same gang of Mexicans had kidnapped Little Blue Flower and given her to
+the Kiowas."
+
+"You told me that Uncle Esmond forced Ferdinand Ramero out of the
+country on account of a wrong done to you, Jondo," I reminded the big
+plainsman.
+
+"He did," Jondo replied. "I told you that we all loved Mary Marchland.
+Fred Ramer broke under his loss of her, and became the devil's own tool
+of hate and revenge, and what generally gets tied up with these sooner
+or later, a passion for money and irregular means of getting it. Money
+is as great an asset for hate as for love, and Fred sold his soul for it
+long ago. Clarenden came to the frontier and lost himself in the
+building of the plains commerce, and his heart he gave to the three
+orphan children to whom he gave a home. When New Mexico came under our
+flag Narveo came with it, a good citizen and a loyal patriot. He married
+a Mexican woman of culture and lives a contented life. Dick Verra went
+into the Church. I came to the plains, and the stimulus of danger, and
+the benediction of the open sky, and the healing touch of the prairie
+winds, and the solemn stillness of the great distances have made me
+something more of a man than I should have been. Maybe I was hurt the
+worst. Clarenden thought I was. Sometimes I think Dick Verra got the
+best of all of us."
+
+Jondo's voice trailed off into silence and I knew what his hurt
+was--that he was the man whom Mary Marchland had loved, from whom Fred
+Ramer, by his cruel machinations, had separated her--"_and although they
+loved each other always, they never saw each other again_." Poor Jondo!
+What a man among men this unknown freighter of the plains might have
+been--and what a loss to the plains in the best of the trail years if
+Jondo had never dared its dangers for the safety of the generations to
+come.
+
+But the thought of Eloise, driven out momentarily by Jondo's story, came
+rushing in again.
+
+"You said you put a ring around Ramero to keep him in Santa Fé. Can't we
+get Eloise outside of it?" I urged, anxiously.
+
+"Maybe I should have said that Father Josef put it around him for me,"
+Jondo replied. "He confessed his crimes fully to the Church. He couldn't
+get by Father Josef. Here he is much honored and secure and we let him
+alone. The disgrace he holds the secret of--he alone--is that the father
+of Eloise killed his father, the crime for which the foster-brother
+fell. Ramero as guardian of Eloise and her property legally could have
+kept her here. Only a man like Clarenden would have dared to take her
+away, though he had the pleading call of her mother's last wish. Gail, I
+have told you the heart-history of half a dozen men. If this had stopped
+with us we could forgive after a while, but it runs down to you and
+Beverly and Eloise and Marcos, who will carry out his father's plans to
+the letter. So the battle is all to be fought over again. Let me leave
+you a minute or two. I'll not be gone long."
+
+I sat alone, staring out at the shadowy court and, above it, the blue
+night-sky of New Mexico inlaid with stars, until a rush of feet in the
+hall and a shout of inquiry told me that Beverly Clarenden was hunting
+for me.
+
+Meantime the girl in Mexican dress, who had come out of the church with
+Father Josef when he came to greet Eloise and me, had passed unnoticed
+through the Plaza and out on the way leading to the northeast. Here she
+came to the blind adobe wall of La Garita, whose olden purpose one still
+may read in the many bullet-holes in its brown sides. Here she paused,
+and as the evening shadows lengthened the dress and wall blended their
+dull tones together.
+
+Beverly Clarenden, who had gone with Rex Krane up to Fort Marcy that
+evening, had left his companion to watch the sunset and dream of Mat
+back on the Missouri bluff, while he wandered down La Garita. He did not
+see the Mexican woman standing motionless, a dark splotch against a dun
+wall, until a soft Hopi voice called, eagerly, "Beverly, Beverly."
+
+The black scarf fell from the bright face, and Indian garb--not Po-a-be,
+the student of St. Ann's and the guest of the Clarenden home, with the
+white Grecian robe and silver headband set with coral pendants, as
+Beverly had seen her last in the side porch on the night of Mat's
+wedding, but Little Blue Flower, the Indian of the desert lands, stood
+before him.
+
+"Where the devil--I mean the holy saints and angels, did you come from?"
+Beverly cried, in delight, at seeing a familiar face.
+
+"I came here to do Father Josef some service. He has been good to me. I
+bring a message."
+
+She reached out her hand with a letter. Beverly took the letter and the
+hand. He put the message in his pocket, but he did not release the
+hand.
+
+"That's something for Jondo. I'll see that he gets it, all right. Tell
+me all about yourself now, Little Run-Off-and-Never-Come-Back." It was
+Beverly's way to make people love him, because he loved people.
+
+It was late at last, too late for prudence, older heads would agree,
+when these two separated, and my cousin came to pounce upon me in the
+hotel court to tell me of his adventure.
+
+"And I learned a lot of things," he added. "That Indian in the Plaza
+to-day is Santan, or Satan, dead sure; and you'd never guess, but he's
+the same redskin--Apache red--that was out at Agua Fria that time we
+were there long ago. The very same little sneak! He followed us clear to
+Bent's Fort. He put up a good story to Jondo, but I'll bet he was
+somebody's tool. You know what a critter he was there. But listen now!
+He's got his eye on Little Blue Flower. He's plain wild Injun, and she's
+a Saint Ann's scholar. Isn't that presumption, though! She's afraid of
+him, too. This country fairly teams with romance, doesn't it?"
+
+"Bev, don't you ever take anything seriously?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I guess I do. I found that Santan, dead loaded with jealousy,
+sneaking after us in the dark to-night when I took Little Blue Flower
+for a stroll. I took him seriously, and told him exactly where he'd
+find me next time he was looking for me. That I'd stand him up against
+La Garita and make a sieve out of him," Beverly said, carelessly.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you are a fool to get that Apache's ill-will," I
+cried.
+
+"I may be, but I'm no coward," Beverly retorted. "Oh, here comes Jondo.
+I've got a letter from Father Josef. Invitation to some churchly dinner,
+I expect."
+
+Beverly threw the letter into Jondo's hands and turned to leave us.
+
+"Wait a minute!" Jondo commanded, and my cousin halted in surprise.
+
+"When did you get this? I should have had it two hours ago," Jondo said,
+sternly. "Father Josef must have waited a long time up at the church
+door for his messenger to come back and bring him word from me."
+
+Beverly frankly told him the truth, as from childhood we had learned was
+the easiest way out of trouble.
+
+Jondo's smile came back to his eyes, but his lips did not smile as he
+said: "Gail, you can explain things to Bev. This is serious business,
+but it had to come sooner or later. The battle is on, and we'll fight it
+out. Ferdinand Ramero is determined that Eloise and his son shall be
+married early to-morrow morning. The bribe to the Church is one-half of
+the St. Vrain estate. The club over Eloise is the shame of some disgrace
+that he holds the key to. He will stop at nothing to have his own way,
+and he will stoop to any brutal means to secure it. He has a host of
+fellows ready at his call to do any crime for his sake. That's how far
+money and an ungovernable passion can lead a man. If I had known this
+sooner, we would have acted to-night."
+
+Beverly groaned.
+
+"Let me go and kill that man. There ought to be a bounty on such wild
+beasts," he declared.
+
+"He'd do that for you through a Mexican dagger, or an Apache arrow, if
+you got in his way," Jondo replied. "But what we must do is this: Twenty
+miles south on the San Christobal Arroyo there is a lonely ranch-house
+on the old Narveo estate, a forgotten place, but it is a veritable fort,
+built a hundred years ago, when every house here was a fort. To-morrow
+at daybreak you must start with Eloise and Sister Anita down there. I
+will see Father Josef later and tell him where I have sent you. Little
+Blue Flower will show you the way. It is a dangerous ride, and you must
+make it as quickly and as silently as possible. A bullet from some
+little cañon could find you easily if Ramero should know your trail.
+Will you go?"
+
+There was no need for the question as Jondo well knew, but his face was
+bright with courage and hope, and a thankfulness he could not express
+shone in his eyes as he looked at us, big, stalwart, eager and unafraid.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+
+
+  Mark where she stands! Around her form I draw
+  The awful circle of our solemn church!
+  Set but a foot within that holy ground,
+  And on thy head--yea, though it wore a crown--
+  launch the curse of Rome.
+                                 --"RICHELIEU."
+
+
+The faint rose hue of early dawn was touching the highest peaks of the
+Sandia and Jemez mountain ranges, while the valley of the Rio Grande
+still lay asleep under dull night shadows, when five ponies and their
+riders left the door of San Miguel church and rode southward in the
+slowly paling gloom. In the stillness of the hour the ponies' feet,
+muffled in the sand of the way, seemed to clatter noisily, and their
+trappings creaked loudly in the dead silence of the place. Little Blue
+Flower, no longer in her Mexican dress, led the line. Behind her Beverly
+and the white-faced nun of St. Ann's rode side by side; and behind these
+came Eloise St. Vrain and myself. From the church door Jondo had watched
+us until we melted into the misty shadows of the trail.
+
+"Go carefully and fearlessly and ride hard if you must. But the
+struggle will be here with me to-day, not where you are," he assured us,
+when we started away.
+
+As he turned to leave the church, an Indian rose from the shadows beyond
+it and stepped before him.
+
+"You remember me, Santan, the Apache, at Fort Bent?" he questioned.
+
+Jondo looked keenly to be sure that his memory fitted the man before
+him.
+
+"Yes, you are Santan. You brought me a message from Father Josef once."
+
+The Indian's face did not change by the twitch of an eyelash as he
+replied.
+
+"I would bring another message from him. He would see you an hour later
+than you planned. The young riders, where shall I tell him they have
+gone?"
+
+"To the old ranch-house on the San Christobal Arroyo," Jondo replied.
+
+The Indian smiled, and turning quickly, he disappeared up the dark
+street. A sudden thrill shook Jondo.
+
+"Father Josef said I could trust that boy entirely. Surely old Dick
+Verra, part Indian himself, couldn't be mistaken. But that Apache lied
+to me. I know it now; and I told him where our boys are taking Eloise. I
+never made a blunder like that before. Damned fool that I am!"
+
+He ground his teeth in anger and disgust, as he sat down in the doorway
+of the church to await the coming of Ferdinand Ramero and his son,
+Marcos.
+
+Out on the trail our ponies beat off the miles with steady gait. As the
+way narrowed, we struck into single file, moving silently forward under
+the guidance of Little Blue Flower, now plunging into dark cañons, where
+the trail was rocky and perilous, now climbing the steep sidling paths
+above the open plain. Morning came swiftly over the Gloriettas. Darkness
+turned to gray; shapeless masses took on distinctness; the night chill
+softened to the crisp breeze of dawn. Then came the rare June day in
+whose bright opening hour the crystal skies of New Mexico hung above us,
+and about us lay a landscape with radiant lights on the rich green of
+the mesa slopes, and gray levels atint with mother-of-pearl and gold.
+
+The Indian pueblos were astir. Mexican faces showed now and then at the
+doorways of far-scattered groups of adobe huts. Outside of these all was
+silence--a motionless land full of wild, rugged beauty, and thrilling
+with the spell of mystery and glamour of romance. And overbrooding all,
+the spirit of the past, that made each winding trail a footpath of the
+centuries; each sheer cliff a watch-tower of the ages; each wide sandy
+plain, a rallying-ground for the tribes long ago gone to dust; each
+narrow valley a battle-field for the death-struggle between the dusky
+sovereigns of a wilderness kingdom and the pale-faced conquerors of the
+coat of mail and the dominant soul. The sense of danger lessened with
+distance and no knight of old Spain ever rode more proudly in the days
+of chivalry than Beverly Clarenden and I rode that morning, fearing
+nothing, sure of our power to protect the golden-haired girl, thrilled
+by this strange flight through a land of strange scenes fraught with the
+charm of daring and danger. Beverly rode forward now with Little Blue
+Flower. I did not wonder at her spell over him, for she was in her own
+land now, and she matched its picturesque phases with her own
+picturesque racial charm.
+
+I rode beside Eloise, forgetting, in the sweet air and glorious June
+sunlight, that we were following an uncertain trail away from certain
+trouble.
+
+The white-faced nun in her somber dress, rode between, with serious
+countenance and downcast eyes.
+
+"What happened to you, Little Lees, after I left you?" I asked, as we
+trotted forward toward the San Christobal valley.
+
+"Everything, Gail," she replied, looking up at me with shy, sad eyes.
+"First Ferdinand Ramero came to me with the command that I should
+consent to be married this morning. By this time I would have been
+Marcos' wife." She shivered as she spoke. "I can't tell you the way of
+it, it was so final, so cruel, so impossible to oppose. Ferdinand's eyes
+cut like steel when they look at you, and you know he will do more than
+he threatens. He said the Church demanded one-half of my little fortune
+and that he could give it the other half if he chose. He is as imperious
+as a tyrant in his pleasanter moods; in his anger he is a maniac. I
+believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
+threats of disgracing me were terrible."
+
+"But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her wretched
+memory.
+
+"I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has an
+Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her come in to
+see me late last night or I should not have been here now. I had almost
+given up when she brought me word that you and Beverly would meet me at
+the church at daylight. I have not slept since. What will be the end of
+this day's work? Isn't there safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the
+fair, sad face with the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.
+
+"Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight it out
+in Santa Fé to-day. It is our work to go where the Hopi blossom leads
+us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let anything happen to you."
+
+I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall that
+morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my abounding vigor and
+confidence in my courage and my powers.
+
+Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked the way
+of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande. On either hand tall
+cliffs, huge weather-worn points of rock, and steep slopes, spotted with
+evergreen shrubs, bordered the river's course. The silent bigness of
+every feature of the landscape and the beauty of the June day in the
+June time of our lives, and our sense of security in having escaped the
+shadows and strife in Santa Fé, all combined to make us free-spirited.
+Only Sister Anita rode, alert and sorrowful-faced, between Beverly and
+the gaily-robed Indian girl, and myself with Eloise, the beautiful.
+
+As we rounded a bend in the narrow valley, Little Blue Flower halted us,
+and pointing to an old half-ruined rock structure beside the stream, she
+said:
+
+"See, yonder is the chapel where Father Josef comes sometimes to pray
+for the souls of the Hopi people. The house we go to find is farther up
+a cañon over there."
+
+"I remember the place," Eloise declared. "Father Josef brought me here
+once and left me awhile. I wasn't afraid, although I was alone, for he
+told me I was always safe in a church. But I was never allowed to come
+back again."
+
+Sister Anita crossed herself and, glancing over her shoulder, gave a
+sharp cry of alarm. We turned about to see a group, of horsemen dashing
+madly up the trail behind us. The wind in their faces blew back the
+great cloud of dust made by their horses hoofs, hiding their number and
+the way behind them. Their steeds were wet with foam, but their riders
+spurred them on with merciless fury. In the forefront Ferdinand Ramero's
+tall form, towering above the small statured evil-faced Mexican band he
+was leading, was outlined against the dust-cloud following them, and I
+caught the glint of light on his drawn revolver.
+
+"Ride! Ride like the devil!" Beverly shouted.
+
+At the same time he and the Hopi girl whirled out and, letting us pass,
+fell in as a rear guard between us and our pursuers. And the race was
+on.
+
+Jondo had said the lonely ranch-house whither we were tending was as
+strong as a fort. Surely it could not be far away, and our ponies were
+not spent with hard riding. Before us the valley narrowed slightly, and
+on its rim jagged rock cliffs rose through three hundred feet of
+earthquake-burst, volcanic-tossed confusion to the high tableland
+beyond.
+
+As we strained forward, half a dozen Mexican horsemen suddenly appeared
+on the trail before us to cut off our advance. Down between us and the
+new enemy stood the old stone chapel, like the shadow of a great rock in
+a weary land, where for two hundred long years it had set up an altar to
+the Most High on this lonely savage plain.
+
+"The chapel! The chapel! We must run to that now," cried Sister Anita.
+
+Her long veil was streaming back in the wind, and her rosary and
+crucifix beating about her shoulders with the hard riding, but her white
+face was brave with a divine trust. Yet even as she urged us I saw how
+imposible was her plea, for the men in front were already nearer
+to the place than we were. At the same time a pony dashed up beside me,
+and Little Blue Flower's voice rang in my ears.
+
+"The rocks! Climb up and hide in the rocks!" She dropped back on one
+side of Beverly, with Sister Anita on the other, guarding our rear. As
+I turned our flight toward the cliff, I caught sight of an Indian in a
+wedge of rock just across the river, and I heard the singing flight of
+an arrow behind me, followed almost instantly by another arrow. I looked
+back to see Sister Anita's pony staggering and rearing in agony, with
+Little Blue Flower trying vainly to catch its bridle-rein, and Sister
+Anita, clutching wildly at her rosary, a great stream of blood flowing
+from an arrow wound in her neck.
+
+Men think swiftly in moments like these. The impulse to halt, and the
+duty to press on for the protection of the girl beside me, holding me in
+doubt. Instantly I saw the dark crew, with Ferdinand Ramero leading
+fiercely forward, almost upon us, and I heard Beverly Clarenden's voice
+filling the valley--"Run, Gail, run! You can beat 'em up there."
+
+It was a cry of insistences and assurances and power, and withal there
+was that minor tone of sympathy which had sounded in the boy's defiant
+voice long ago in the gray-black shadows below Pawnee Rock, when his
+chivalric soul had been stirred by the cruel wrongs of Little Blue
+Flower and he had cried:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+I knew in a flash that the three behind us were cut off, and Eloise St.
+Vrain and I pressed on alone. We crossed the narrow strip of rising
+ground to where the first rocks lay as they had fallen from the cliff
+above, split off by some titanic agony of nature. Up and up we went, our
+ponies stumbling now and then, but almost as surefooted as men, as they
+climbed the narrow way. Now the rocks hid us from the plain as we crept
+sturdily through narrow crevices, and now we clambered up an open path
+where nothing concealed our way. But higher still and higher, foot, by
+foot we pressed, while with oath and growl behind us came our pursuers.
+
+At last we could ride no farther, and the miracle was that our ponies
+could have climbed so far. Above us huge slabs of stone, by some
+internal cataclysm hurled into fragments of unguessed tons of weight,
+seemed poised in air, about to topple down upon the plain below. Between
+these wild, irregular masses a narrow footing zigzagged upward to still
+other wild, irregular masses, a footing of long leaps in cramped spaces
+between sharp edges of upright clefts, all gigantic, unbending, now
+shielding by their immense angles, now standing sheer and stark before
+us, casting no shadows to cover us from the great white glare of the
+New-Mexican day.
+
+I have said no man knows where his mind will run in moments of peril. As
+we left our ponies and clambered up and up in hope of safety somewhere,
+the face of the rocks cut and carved by the rude stone tools of a race
+long perished, seemed to hold groups of living things staring at us and
+pointing the way. And there was no end to these crude pictographs. Over
+and over and over--the human hand, the track of the little road-runner
+bird, the plumed serpent coiled or in waving line, the human form with
+the square body and round head, with staring circles for eyes and mouth,
+and straight-line limbs.
+
+We were fleeing for safety through the sacred aisles of a people God had
+made; and when they served His purpose no longer, they had perished. I
+did not think of them so that morning. I thought only of some
+hiding-place, some inaccessible point where nothing could reach the girl
+I must protect. But these crawling serpents, cut in the rock surfaces,
+crawled on and on. These human hands, poor detached hands, were lifted
+up in mute token of what had gone before. These two-eyed, one-mouthed
+circles on heads fast to body-boxes, from which waved tentacle limbs,
+jigged by us, to give place to other coiled or crawling serpents and
+their companion carvings, with the track of the swift road-runner
+skipping by us everywhere.
+
+At last, with bleeding hands and torn clothing, we stood on a level rock
+like a tiny mesa set out from the high summit of the cliff.
+
+Eloise sat down at my feet as I looked back eagerly over the precipitous
+way we had come, and watched the band of Mexicans less rapidly swarming
+up the same steep, devious trail.
+
+Three hundred feet below us lay the plain with the thin current of the
+San Christobal River sparkling here and there in the sunlight. The black
+spot on the trail that scarcely moved must be Beverly and Little Blue
+Flower with Sister Anita. No, there was only the Indian girl there, and
+something moving in and out of the shadow near them. I could not see for
+the intervening rocks.
+
+"Gail! Gail! You will not let them take you. You will not leave me,"
+Eloise moaned.
+
+And I was one against a dozen. I stooped to where she sat and gently
+lifted her limp white hand, saying:
+
+"Eloise, I was on a rock like this a night and a day alone on the
+prairie. I could not move nor cry out. But something inside told me to
+'hold fast'--the old law of the trail. You must do that with me now."
+
+A shout broke over the valley and the rocks about us seemed suddenly to
+grow men, as if every pictograph of the old stone age had become a
+sentient thing, a being with a Mexican dress, and the soul of a devil.
+Just across a narrow chasm, a little below us, Ferdinand Ramero stood in
+all the insolence of a conqueror, with a smile that showed his white
+teeth, and in his steely eyes was the glitter of a snake about to
+spring.
+
+"You have given us a hard race. By Jove, you rode magnificently and
+climbed heroically. I admire you for it. It is fine to bring down game
+like you, Clarenden. You have your uncle's spirit, and a six-foot body
+that dwarfs his short stature. And we come as gentlemen only, if we can
+deal with a gentleman. It wasn't our men who struck your nun down there.
+But if you, young man, dare to show one ounce of fighting spirit now,
+behind you on the rocks--don't look--as I lift my hand are my good
+friends who will put a bullet into the brain beneath that golden hair,
+and you will follow. Being a game-cock cannot help you now. It will only
+hasten things. Deliver that girl to me at once, or my men will close in
+upon you and no power on earth can save you."
+
+Eloise had sprung to her feet and stood beside me, and both of us knew
+the helplessness of our plight. A startling picture it must have been,
+and one the cliffs above the San Christobal will hardly see again: the
+blue June sky arched overhead, unscarred by a single cloud-fleck, the
+yellow plain winding between the high picturesque cliffs, where silence
+broods all through the long hours of the sunny day; the pictured rocks
+with their furnace-blackened faces white--outlined with the story of the
+dim beginnings of human strivings. And standing alone and defenseless on
+the little table of stone, as if for sacrifice, the tall, stalwart young
+plainsman and the beautiful girl with her golden hair in waving masses
+about her uncovered head, her sweet face white as the face of the dying
+nun beside the sandy arroyo below us, her big dark eyes full of a
+strange fire.
+
+"I order you to close in and take these two at once." The imperious
+command rang out, and the rocks across the valley must have echoed its
+haughty tone.
+
+"And I order you to halt."
+
+The voice of Father Josef, clear and rich and powerful, burst upon the
+silence like cathedral music on the still midnight air. The priest's
+tall form rose up on a great mass of rock across the cleft before
+us--Father Josef with bared head and flashing eyes and a physique of
+power.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned like a lion at bay. "You are one man. My force
+number a full dozen. Move on," he ordered.
+
+Again the voice of Father Josef ruled the listening ears.
+
+"Since the days of old the Church has had the power to guard all that
+come within the shelter of the holy sanctuary. And to the Church of God
+was given also long ago the might to protect, by sanctuary privilege,
+the needy and the defenseless. Ferdinand Ramero, note that little table
+of rock where those two stand helpless in your grasp. Around them now I
+throw, as I have power to throw, the sacred circle of our Holy Church in
+sanctuary shelter. Who dares to step inside it will be accursed in the
+sight of God."
+
+Never, never will I live through another moment like to that, nor see
+the power of the Unseen rule things that are seen with such unbreakable
+strength.
+
+The Mexicans dropped to their knees in humble prayer, and Ferdinand
+Ramero seemed turned to a man of stone. A hand was gently laid upon my
+arm and Jondo and Rex Krane stood beside us. A voice far off was
+sounding in my ears.
+
+"Go back to your homes and meet me at the church to-morrow night. You,
+Ferdinand Ramero, go now to the chapel yonder and wait until I come."
+
+What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+FINISHING TOUCHES
+
+     "_Yet there be certain times in a young man's life when through
+     great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away so
+     that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of
+     manhood."_
+                                                          --KIPLING.
+
+
+The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San Christobal
+Valley, and there was not a single cloud in the June skies to throw a
+softening shadow on the yellow plain. A little group of Mexicans, riding
+northward with sullen faces, urged on their jaded ponies viciously as
+they thought of the gold that was to have been paid them for this
+morning's work, and of the gold that to-morrow night must go to pay the
+priest who should shrive them; and they had nothing gained wherewith to
+pay. Their leader, whom they had served, had been trapped in his own
+game, and they felt themselves abused and deceived.
+
+Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the door of
+the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group coming slowly
+toward him: Ferdinand Ramero, riding like a captured but unconquered
+king, his head erect, his flashing eyes seeing nobody; Jondo who could
+make the shabbiest piece of horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it,
+his tanned cheek flushed, and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking
+out through his dark-blue eyes; Eloise, drooping like a white flower,
+but brave of spirit now, sure that her grief and anxiety would be lifted
+somehow. I rode beside her, glad to catch the faint smile in her eyes
+when she looked at me. And last of all, Rex Krane, with the same old
+Yankee spirit, quick to help a fellow-man and oblivious to personal
+danger. So we all came to the chapel, but at the door Rex wheeled and
+rode away, muttering, as he passed me:
+
+"I've got business to look after, and not a darned thing to confess."
+
+And Beverly! He was not with us.
+
+When Rex Krane told his bride good-by up in the Clarenden home on the
+Missouri bluff, Mat had whispered one last request:
+
+"Look after Bev. He never sees danger for himself, nor takes anything
+seriously, least of all an enemy, whom he will befriend, and make a joke
+of it."
+
+And so it happened that Rex had stayed behind to care for Beverly's
+arrow wound when Bill Banney had gone out with Jondo on the Kiowa trail
+to search for me this side of Pawnee Rock.
+
+So also it happened that Rex had strolled down from Fort Marcy the night
+before, in time to see Beverly and the girl in the Mexican dress
+loitering along the brown front of La Garita. And his keen eyes had
+caught sight of Santan crouching in an angle of the wall, watching them.
+
+"Indians and Mexes don't mix a lot. And Bev oughtn't mix with either
+one," Rex commented. "I'll line the boy up for review to-morrow, so Mat
+won't say I've neglected him."
+
+But the Yankee took the precaution to follow the trail to the Indian's
+possible abiding-place on the outskirts of Santa Fé. And it was Rex who
+most aided Jondo in finding that the Indian had gone with Ramero's men
+northward.
+
+"That fellow is Santan, of Fort Bent, Rex," Jondo said.
+
+"Yes, you thought he was _Santa_ and I took him for _Satan_ then. We
+missed out on which to knock out of him. Bev won't care nothin' about
+his name. He will knock hell out of him if he gets in that Clarenden
+boy's way," Rex had replied.
+
+At the chapel door now the Yankee turned away and rode down the trail
+toward the little angle where an Indian arrow had whizzed at our party
+an hour before.
+
+In the shadow of a fallen mass of rock below the cliff Little Blue
+Flower had spread her blanket, with Beverly's coat tucked under it in a
+roll for a pillow, and now she sat beside the dying nun, holding the
+crucifix to Sister Anita's lips. The Indian girl's hands were
+blood-stained and the nun's black veil and gown were disheveled, and her
+white head-dress and coif were soaked with gore. But her white face was
+full of peace as the light faded from her eyes.
+
+And Beverly! The boy forgot the rest of the world when one of the
+Apache's arrows struck down the pony and the other pierced Sister
+Anita's neck. Tenderly as a mother would lift a babe he quickly carried
+the stricken woman to the shelter of the rock, and with one glance at
+her he turned away.
+
+"You can do all that she needs done for her. Give her her cross to
+hold," he said, gently, to Little Blue Flower.
+
+Then he sprang up and dashed across the river, splashing the bright
+waters as he leaped to the farther side where Santan stood concealed,
+waiting for the return of Ramero's Mexicans.
+
+At the sound of Beverly's feet he leaped to the open just in time to
+meet Beverly's fist square between the eyes.
+
+"Take that, you dirty dog, to shoot down an innocent nun. And that!"
+Beverly followed his first blow with another.
+
+The Apache, who had reeled back with the weight of the boy's iron fist,
+was too quick for the second thrust, struggling to get hold of his
+arrows and his scalping-knife. But the space was too narrow and Beverly
+was upon him with a shout.
+
+"I told you I'd make a sieve or you the next time you tried to see me,
+and I'm going to do it."
+
+He seized the Indian's knife and flung it clear into the river, where
+it stuck upright in the sands of the bed, parting the little stream of
+water gurgling against it; and with a powerful grip on the Apache's
+shoulders he wrenched the arrows from their place and tramped on them
+with his heavy boot.
+
+The Indian's surprise and submission were gone in a flash, and the two
+clinched in combat.
+
+On the one hand, jealousy, the inherited hatred of a mistreated race,
+the savage instinct, a gloating joy in brute strife, blood-lust, and a
+dogged will to trample in the dirt the man who made the sun shine black
+for the Apache. On the other hand, a mad rage, a sense of insult, a
+righteous greed for vengeance for a cruel deed against an innocent
+woman, and all the superiority of a dominant people. The one would
+conquer a powerful enemy, the other would exterminate a despicable and
+dangerous pest.
+
+Back and forth across the narrow space hidden from the trail by fallen
+rock they threshed like beasts of prey. The Apache had the swiftness of
+the snake, his muscles were like steel springs, and there was no rule of
+honorable warfare in his code. He bit and clawed and pinched and
+scratched and choked and wrenched, with the grim face and burning eyes
+of a murderer. But the Saxon youth, slower of motion, heavier of bone
+and muscle, with a grip like iron and a stony endurance, with pride in a
+conquest by sheer clean skill, and with a purpose, not to take life, but
+to humble and avenge, hammered back blow for blow; and there was
+nothing for many minutes to show which was offensive and which
+defensive.
+
+As the struggle raged on, the one grew more furious and the other more
+self-confident.
+
+"Oh, I'll make you eat dust yet!" Beverly cried, as Santan in triumph
+flung him backward and sprang upon his prostrate form.
+
+They clinched again, and with a mighty surge of strength my cousin
+lifted himself, and the Indian with him, and in the next fall Beverly
+had his antagonist gripped and helpless.
+
+"I can choke you out now as easy as you shot that arrow. Say your
+prayers." He fairly growled out the words.
+
+"I didn't aim at her," the Apache half whined, half boasted. "I wanted
+you."
+
+At that moment Beverly, spent, bruised, and bleeding with fighting and
+surcharged with the lust of combat, felt all the instinct of murder
+urging him on to utterly destroy a poison-fanged foe to humanity. At
+Santan's words he paused and, flinging back the hair from his forehead,
+he caught his breath and his better self in the same heart-beat. And the
+instinct of the gentleman--he was Esmond Clarenden's brother's son--held
+the destroying hand.
+
+"You aimed at me! Well, learn your lesson on that right now. Promise
+never to play the fool that way again. Promise the everlasting God's
+truth, or here you go."
+
+The boy's clutch tightened on Santan's throat. "By all that's holy,
+you'll go to your happy hunting-ground _right now, unless you do_!" He
+growled out the words, and his blazing eyes glared threateningly at his
+fallen enemy.
+
+"I promise!" Santan muttered, gasping for breath.
+
+"You didn't mean to kill the nun? Then you'll go with me and ask her to
+forgive you before she dies. You will. You needn't try to get away from
+me. I let you thrash your strength out before we came to this
+settlement. Be still!" Beverly commanded, as Santan made a mad effort to
+release himself.
+
+"Hurry up, and remember she is dying. Go softly and speak gently, or by
+the God of heaven, you'll go with her to the Judgment Seat to answer for
+that deed right now!"
+
+Slowly the two rose. Their clothes were torn, their hair disheveled, the
+ground at their feet was red with their blood. They were as bitter, as
+distrustful now as when their struggle began. For brute force never
+conquers anything. It can only hold in check by fear of its power to
+destroy the body. Above the iron fist of the fighter, and the sword and
+cannon of the soldier, stands the risen Christ who carried his own cross
+up Mount Calvary--and "there they crucified him."
+
+The two young men, spent with their struggle, their faces stained with
+dirt and bloody sweat, crossed the river and sought the shadowy place
+where Little Blue Flower sat beside Sister Anita. Twice Santan tried to
+escape, and twice Beverly brought him quickly to his place. It must
+have been here that I caught sight of them from the rock above.
+
+"One more move like that and the ghost of Sister Anita will walk behind
+you on every trail you follow as long as your flat feet hit the earth,"
+Beverly declared.
+
+"All Indians are afraid of ghosts and I was just too tired to fight any
+more," he said to me afterward when he told me the story of that hour by
+the San Christobal River.
+
+Sister Anita lay with wide-open eyes, her hands moving feebly as she
+clutched at her crucifix. Her hour was almost spent.
+
+Santan stood motionless before her, as Beverly with a grip on his arm
+said, firmly:
+
+"Tell her you did not aim at her, and ask her to forgive you. It will
+help to save your own soul sometime, maybe."
+
+Santan looked at Little Blue Flower. But she gave no heed to him as she
+put the dropped crucifix into the weakening fingers. Murder, as such, is
+as horrifying to the gentle Hopi tribe as it is sport for the cruel
+Apache.
+
+Beverly loosed his hold now.
+
+"I did not want to hurt you. Forgive me!" Santan said, slowly, as though
+each word were plucked from him by red-hot pincers.
+
+Sister Anita heard and turned her eyes.
+
+"Kneel down and tell her again," Beverly said, more gently.
+
+The Apache dropped on his knees beside the dying woman and repeated his
+words. Sister Anita smiled sweetly.
+
+"Heaven will forgive you even as I do," she murmured, and closed her
+eyes.
+
+"Go softly. This is sacred ground," my cousin said.
+
+The Indian rose and passed silently down the trail, leaving Little Blue
+Flower and Beverly Clarenden together with the dead. At the stream he
+paused and pulled his knife from the sands beneath the trickling waters,
+and then went on his way.
+
+But an Indian never forgets.
+
+Rex Krane, who had hurried hither from the chapel, closed the eyes and
+folded the thin hands of the martyred woman, and sent Beverly forward
+for help to dispose of the garment of clay that had been Sister Anita.
+From that day something manly and serious came into Beverly Clarenden's
+face to stay, but his sense of humor and his fearlessness were
+unchanged.
+
+That was a solemn hour in the shadow of the rock down in that yellow
+valley, but beautiful in its forgiving triumph. We who had gathered in
+the dimly lighted chapel had an hour more solemn for that it was made up
+of such dramatic minutes as change the trend of life-trails for all the
+years to come.
+
+The chapel was very old. They tell me that only a broken portion of the
+circular wall about the altar stands there to-day, a lonely monument to
+some holy padre's faith and courage and sacrifice in the forgotten
+years when, in far Hesperia, men dreamed of a Quivera and found only a
+Calvary.
+
+It may be that I, Gail Clarenden, was also changed as I listened to the
+deliberations of that day; that something of youth gave place for the
+stronger manhood that should stay me through the years that came after.
+
+Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come back to
+it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and rough climb
+among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled carelessly on her white
+brow and rippled about her shapely head. I used to wonder what setting
+fitted her beauty best--why wonder that about any beautiful woman?--but
+the gracious loveliness of this woman was never more appealing to me
+than in the soft light and sacred atmosphere of the church.
+
+Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water and
+coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we came in to
+his presence.
+
+"Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a child I
+tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a woman, you must
+still be protected, but you must live your own life and choose for
+yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be crushed by it. You must take
+up your cross and bear it. It is for this that I have called you back to
+New Mexico at this time. But remember, my daughter, that life is not
+given to us for defeat, but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles;
+not for idle cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."
+
+I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years were
+full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had brought him to the
+priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of Father Josef's voice,
+somehow, to me, he stood for success, not failure.
+
+Eloise bowed her head and listened.
+
+"You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own heritage,
+nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has been offered a
+bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies no altars nor extends
+the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ. Your property is your own to
+use for the holy purposes of a goodly life wherever your days may lead
+you; and whatever the civil law may grant of power to control it for
+you, you shall no longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that
+it shall henceforth be yours."
+
+Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to Ferdinand
+Ramero.
+
+"You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this estate,
+whose revenue made your father and yourself to be accounted rich, and
+upon which your son has been allowed to build up a life expectation; and
+though on account of it, you go forth a poor man in wordly goods, you
+may go out rich in the blessing of restoration and repentance."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero's steel eyes were fixed like the eyes of a snake on the
+holy man's face. Restoration and repentance do not belong behind eyes
+like that.
+
+"I can fight you in the courts. You and your Church may go to the
+devil;" he seemed to hiss rather than to speak these words.
+
+"We do go to him every day to bring back souls like yours," Father
+Josef's voice was calm. "I have waited a long time for you to repent.
+You can go to the courts, but you will not do it. For the sake of your
+wife, Gloria Ramero, and Felix Narveo, her brother, we do not move
+against you, and you dare not move for yourself, because your own record
+will not bear the light of legal investigation."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero sprang up, the blaze of passion, uncontrolled through
+all his years, bursting forth in the tragedy of the hour. Eloise was
+right. In his anger he was a maniac.
+
+"You dare to threaten me! You pen me in a corner to stab me to death!
+You hold disgrace and miserable poverty over my head, and cant of
+restoration and repentance! Not until here you name each thing that you
+count against me, and I have met them point by point, will I restore. I
+never will repent!"
+
+In the vehemence of anger, Ramero was the embodiment of the dramatic
+force of unrestraint, and withal he was handsome, with a controlling
+magnetism even in his hour of downfall.
+
+Jondo had said that Father Josef had somewhere back a strain of Indian
+blood in his veins. It must have been this that gave the fiber of self
+control to his countenance as he looked with pitying eyes at Jondo and
+Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"The hour is struck," he said, sadly. "And you shall hear your record,
+point by point, because you ask it now. First: you have retained,
+controlled, misused, and at last embezzled the fortune of Theron St.
+Vrain, as it was retained, controlled, misused, and embezzled by your
+father, Henry Ramer, in his lifetime. Any case in civil courts must show
+how the heritage of Eloise St. Vrain, heir to Theron St. Vrain at the
+death of her mother--"
+
+"Not until the death of her mother--" Ferdinand Ramero broke in,
+hoarsely.
+
+For the first time to-day the priest's cheek paled, but his voice was
+unbroken as he continued:
+
+"I would have been kinder for your own sake. You desire otherwise. Yes,
+only after the death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain could you dictate
+concerning her daughter's affairs, with most questionable legality even
+then. Mary Marchland St. Vrain is not dead."
+
+The chapel was as silent as the grave. My heart stood still. Before me
+was Jondo, big, strong, self-controlled, inured to the tragic deeds of
+the epic years of the West. No pen of mine will ever make the picture of
+Jondo's face at these words of Father Josef.
+
+Eloise turned deathly pale, and her dark eyes opened wide, seeing
+nothing. It was not I who comforted her, but Jondo, who put his strong
+arm about her, and she leaned against his shoulder. Father and daughter
+in spirit, stricken to the heart.
+
+"For many years she has lived in that lonely ranch-house on the Narveo
+grant in the little cañon up the San Christobal Arroyo. When the fever
+left her with memory darkened forever, you recorded her as dead. But
+your wife, Gloria Ramero, spared no pains to make her comfortable. She
+has never known a want, nor lived through one unhappy hour, because she
+has forgotten."
+
+"A priest, confessor for men's inmost souls, who babbles all he knows! I
+wonder that this roof does not fall on you and strike you dead before
+this altar." Ferdinand Ramero's voice rose to a shout.
+
+"It was too strongly built by one who knew men's inmost souls, and what
+they needed most," Father Josef replied. "You drove me to this by your
+insistence. I would have shielded you--and these."
+
+He turned to Eloise and Jondo as he spoke.
+
+"One more point, since you hold it ready to spring when I am through.
+You stand accused of plotting for your father's murder. The evidence
+still holds, and some men who rode with you to-day to seize this gentle
+girl and drag her back to a marriage with your son--and save your
+ill-gotten gold thereby--some of these men who will confess to me and do
+penance to-morrow night, are the same men who long ago confessed to
+other crimes--you can guess what they were.
+
+"It pays well to repent before such a holy tattler as yourself."
+Ramero's blue eyes burned deep as their fire was centered on the priest.
+
+"These are the counts against you," Father Josef said in review,
+ignoring the last outburst of wrath. "A life of ease and inheritance
+through money not your own, nor even rightly yours to control. A
+stricken woman listed with the dead, whose memory might have come
+again--God knows--if but the loving touch of childish hands had long ago
+been on her hands. It is years too late for all that now. A brave young
+ward rescued from your direct control by Esmond Clarenden's force of
+will and daring to do the right. You know that last pleading cry of Mary
+Marchland's, for Jondo to protect her child, and how Clarenden, for love
+of this brave man, came to New Mexico on perilous trails to take the
+little Eloise from you. And lastly in this matter, the threats to force
+a marriage unholy in God's sight, because no love could go with it. Your
+mad chase and villainous intention to use brute force to secure your
+will out yonder on the rocks above the cliff. You have debauched an
+Apache boy, making him your tool and spy. You sanctioned the seizing of
+a Hopi girl whose parents you permitted to be murdered, and their child
+sold into slavery among foreign tribes. You have stirred up and kept
+alive a feud of hatred and revenge among the Kiowa people against the
+life and property of Esmond Clarenden and all who belong to him. And,
+added to all these, you stand to-day a patricide in spirit, accused of
+plotting for the murder of your own father. Do not these things call
+for restoration and repentance?"
+
+Ferdinand Ramero rose to his feet and stood in the aisle near the door.
+His face hardened, and all the suave polish and cool concentration and
+dominant magnetism fell away. What remained was the man as shaped by the
+ruling passions of years, from whose control only divine power could
+bring deliverance. And when he spoke there was a remorseless cruelty and
+selfishness in his low, even tones.
+
+"You have called me a plotter for my father's life--based on some lying
+Mexican's love of blackmail. You do not even try to prove your charge.
+The man who would have killed him was Theron St. Vrain, and his brother,
+Bertrand. That Theron was disgraced by the fact you know very well, and
+the blackness of it drove him to an early grave. So this young lady
+here, whom I would have shielded from this stain upon her name in the
+marriage to my son, may know the truth about her father. He was what
+you, Father Josef, try to prove me to be."
+
+He paused as if to gather venom for his last shaft.
+
+"These two, Theron and Bertrand, were equally guilty, but through tricks
+of their own, Theron escaped and Bertrand took the whole crime on
+himself. He disappeared and paid the penalty by his death. His body was
+recovered from the river and placed in an unmarked grave. Why go back to
+that now? Because Bertrand St. Vrain's clothes alone on some poor
+drowned unknown man were buried. Bertrand himself sits here beside his
+niece, Eloise St. Vrain. John Doe to the world, the man who lives
+without a name, and dares not sign a business document, a walking dead
+man. I could even pity him if he were real. But who can pity nothing?"
+
+A look of defiance came into the man's glittering eyes as he took one
+step nearer to the door and continued:
+
+"Esmond Clarenden drove me out of the United States with threats of
+implicating me in the death of my father, and I knew his power and
+brutal daring to do anything he chose to do. It was but his wish to have
+revenge for this nameless thing--"
+
+The scorn of Ramero's eyes and voice as he looked at Jondo were
+withering.
+
+"And this thing keeps me here by threats of attacks, even when he knows
+that by such attacks he will reveal himself. It has been a grim game."
+Something of a grin showed all of the man's fine teeth. "A grim game,
+and never played to a finish till now. I leave it to you, Father Josef,
+to judge who has been the stronger and who comes out of it victor. I
+make restoration--of what? I leave the St. Vrain money that I have
+guarded for Eloise, the daughter of the man who killed, or helped to
+kill, my father. You can control it now, among you: Clarenden, already
+rich; your Church, notorious in its robbery of the poor by enriching its
+coffers; or this uncle here, who is dead and buried in an unknown grave.
+That is all the restoration I can make. Repentance, I do not know what
+that word means. Keep it for the poor devils you will gather in
+to-morrow night to be shriven. They need it. I do not."
+
+He turned and strode out of the church and, mounting his horse, rode
+like a madman up the yellow valley of the San Christobal. In after years
+I could find no term to so well describe that last act as the words of
+Beverly Clarenden, who came to the chapel just in time to hear Ferdinand
+Ramero's closing declaration, and to see his black scowl and scornful
+air, as, in a royal madness, he defied the power of man and denounced
+the all-pitying love that is big enough for the most sinful.
+
+"It was Paradise lost," Beverly declared, "and Satan falling clear to
+hell before the Archangel's flaming sword. Only he went east and the
+real Satan dropped down to his place. But they will meet up somewhere,
+Ramero and the real one, and not be able to tell each other apart."
+
+And Jondo. My boyhood idol, brave, gentle, unselfish, able everywhere!
+Jondo, who had kept my toddling feet from stumbling, who had taught me
+to ride and swim and shoot, who had made me wise in plains lore, and
+manly and clean among the rough and vulgar things of the Missouri
+frontier. Jondo, whose big, cool hand had touched my feverish face,
+whose deep blue eyes had looked love into my eyes when I lay dying on
+Pawnee Rock! A man without a name! A murderer who had by a trick escaped
+the law, and must walk evermore unknown among his fellow-men! Something
+went out of my life as I looked at him. The boy in me was burned and
+seared away, and only the man-to-be, was left.
+
+He offered no word of defense from the accusation against him, nor made
+a plea of innocence, but sat looking straight at Father Josef, who
+looked at him as if expecting nothing. And as they gazed into each
+other's eyes, a something strong and beautiful swept the face of each. I
+could not understand it, and I was young. My lifetime hero had turned to
+nothingness before my eyes. The world was full of evil. I hated it and
+all that in it was, my trusting, foolish, short-sighted self most of
+all.
+
+But Eloise--the heart of woman is past understanding--Eloise turned to
+the man beside her and, putting both arms around his neck, she pressed
+one fair cheek against his brown bearded one, and kissed him gently on
+the forehead. Then turning to Father Josef, no longer the dependent,
+clinging maiden, but the loving woman, strong and sure of will, she
+said:
+
+"I must go to my mother. So long as she lives I will never leave her
+again."
+
+She did not even look at me, nor speak a word of farewell, as if I were
+the murderer instead of that man, Jondo, whom she had kissed.
+
+I saw her ride away, with Little Blue Flower beside her. I saw the green
+mesa, the red cliffs above the growing things, the glitter of the San
+Christobal water on yellow sands, the level plain where the narrow white
+trail crept far away toward Gloria Narveo's lonely ranch-house, strong
+as a fort built a hundred years ago, in a little cañon of the valley. I
+saw a young, graceful figure on horseback, and the glint of sunlight on
+golden hair. But the rider did not turn her head and I could not get one
+glance of those beautiful dark eyes. A great mass of rock hid the line
+of the trail, and the two, Eloise and Little Blue Flower, rounded the
+angle and rode on out of my sight.
+
+I helped to dig open the curly mesquite and to shovel out the sand. I
+heard the burial service, and saw a rudely coffined form lowered into an
+open grave. I saw Rex Krane at the head, and Jondo at the foot, and
+Beverly's bleeding hands as he scraped the loose earth back and heaped
+it over that which had been called Sister Anita; I heard Father Josef's
+voice of music repeating the "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." And
+then we turned away and left the spot, as men turn every day to the
+common affairs of life.
+
+Four days later Little Blue Flower came to me as I, still numb and cold
+and blankly unthinking, sat beside Fort Marcy and looked out with
+unseeing eyes at the glory of a New-Mexican sunset.
+
+"I come from Eloise." The sadness of her face and voice even the
+Indian's self-control could not conceal.
+
+"She is sad, but brave, and her mother loves her and calls her 'Little
+One.' She will never grow up to her mother. But"--Little Blue Flower's
+voice faltered and she gazed out at the far Sandia peaks wrapped in the
+rich purple folds of twilight, with the scarlet of the afterglow beyond
+them--"Eloise loves Beverly. She will always love him. Heaven meant him
+for her." There were some other broken sentences, but I did not grasp
+them clearly then.
+
+The world was full of gray shadows. The finishing touches had been put
+on life for me. I looked out at the dying glow in the west, and wondered
+vaguely if the sun would ever cross the Gloriettas again, or ever the
+Sangre-de-Christo grow radiant with the scarlet stain of that ineffable
+beauty that uplifts and purifies the soul of him who looks on it.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+    Trust me, it is something to be cast
+    Face to face with one's self at last,
+    To be taken out of the fuss and strife,
+    The endless clatter of plate and knife,
+    The bore of books, and the bores of the street,
+    And to be set down on one's own two feet
+      So nigh to the great warm heart of God,
+    You almost seem to feel it beat
+      Down from the sunshine, and up from the sod.
+
+                         JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
+
+
+My hair is very white now, and my fingers hold a pen more easily than
+they could hold the ox-goad or the rifle, and mine to-day is all the
+backward look. Which look is evermore a satisfying thing because it
+takes in all of life behind in its true proportion, where the forward
+look of youth sees only what comes next and nothing more. And looking
+back to-day it seems that, of the many times I walked the long miles of
+that old Santa Fe Trail, no journey over it stands out quite so
+clear-cut in my memory as the home trip after I had watched the going
+away of Eloise, and witnessed the flight of Ferdinand Ramero, and
+listened to the story of Jondo's life.
+
+When Little Blue Flower left me sitting beside Fort Marcy's wall my
+mind went back in swift review over the flight of days since Beverly
+Clarenden and I had come from Cincinnati. I recalled the first meeting
+of Eloise with my cousin. How easily they had renewed acquaintance. I
+had been surprised and embarrassed and awkward when I found her and
+Little Blue Flower down by the Flat Rock below St. Ann's, in the Moon of
+the Peach Blossom. I remembered how I had monopolized all of her time in
+the days that followed, leaving good-natured Bev to look after the
+little Indian girl who never really seemed like an Indian to him. And
+keen-piercing as an arrow came now the memory of that midnight hour when
+I had seen the two in the little side porch of the Clarenden home, and
+again I heard the sorrowful words:
+
+"Oh, Beverly, it breaks my heart."
+
+Eloise had just seen Beverly kiss Little Blue Flower in the shadows of
+the porch. And all the while, good-hearted, generous boy that he was, he
+had never tried to push his suit with her, had made her love him more,
+no doubt, by letting me have full command of all of her time, while he
+forgot himself in showing courtesy to the Indian girl, because Bev was
+first of all a gentleman. I thought of that dear hour in the church of
+San Miguel. Of course, Eloise was glad to find me there--poor, hunted,
+frightened child! She would have been as glad, no doubt, to have found
+big Bill Banney or Rex Krane, and I had thought her eyes held something
+just for me that night. She had not seen Beverly at the chapel beside
+the San Christobal River, and to me she had not given even a parting
+glance when she went away. If she had cared for me at all she would not
+have left me so. And I had climbed the tortuous trail with her and stood
+beside her in the zone of sanctuary safety that Father Josef had thrown
+about us two.
+
+These things were clear enough to me, but when I tried to think again of
+all that Little Blue Flower had said an hour ago my mind went numb:
+
+"Her mother knew her, but only as the little Eloise long lost and never
+missed till now. The mother, too, was very beautiful, and young in face,
+and child-like in her helplessness. The lonely ranch-house, old, and
+strong as a fort, girt round by tall cañon walls, nestled in a grassy
+open place; and not a comfort had been denied the woman there. For
+Gloria Ramero, Ferdinand's wife, had governed that. And Eloise had
+entered there to stay. This much was clear enough. But that which
+followed seemed to twist and writhe about in my mind with only one thing
+sure--Eloise loved Beverly, would always love him. And he could not love
+any one else. He could be kind to any girl, but he would not be happy.
+Some day when he was older--a real man--then he would long for the girl
+of his heart and his own choice, and he would find her and love her,
+too, and she would love him and those who stood between them they both
+would hate. And Eloise loved Beverly. She could not send Gail any words
+herself, but he would understand."
+
+So came the Indian girl's interpretation of the case, but the conclusion
+was the message meant for me. I wondered vaguely, as I sat there, if the
+vision had come to Beverly years ago as it had come to me: three
+men--the soldier on his cavalry mount, Jondo, the plainsman, on his big
+black horse, and between the two, Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor
+on foot, but going forward somehow, steady and sure. And beyond these
+three, this side of misty mountain peaks, the cloud of golden hair, the
+sweet face, with dark eyes looking into mine. I had not been a dreamer,
+I had been a fool.
+
+Through Beverly I learned the next day that Ferdinand Ramero had come
+into Santa Fé late at night and had left early the next morning. Marcos
+Ramero, faultlessly dressed, lounged about the gambling-halls, and
+strolled through the sunny Plaza, idly and insolently, as was his
+custom. But Gloria Ramero, to whom Marcos long ago ceased to be more
+than coldly courteous, had left the city at once for the San Christobal
+Valley, to devote herself to the care of the beautiful woman whom her
+brother Felix Narveo in his college days had admired so much.
+
+As for Jondo, years ago when we had met Father Josef out by the sandy
+arroyo, he had left us to follow the good man somewhere, and had not
+come back to the Exchange Hotel until nightfall. Something had come into
+his face that day that never left it again. And now that something had
+deepened in the glance of his eye and the firm-set mouth. It was
+through that meeting with Father Josef that he had first heard of the
+supposed death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain, and it was through the
+priest in the chapel he had heard that she was still alive.
+
+Neither Beverly nor Bill Banney nor Rex Krane knew what I had heard in
+the church concerning Jondo's early career, and I never spoke of it to
+them. But to all of us, outside of that intensified something
+indefinable in his face, he was unchanged. He met my eye with the open,
+frank glance with which he met the gaze of all men. His smile was no
+less engaging and his manner remained the same--fearless, unsuspicious,
+definite in serious affairs, good-natured and companionable in
+everything. I could not read him now, by one little line, but back of
+everything lay that withering, grievous thought--he was a murderer.
+Heaven pity the boy when his idol falls, and if he be a dreaming
+idealist the hurt is tenfold deeper.
+
+And yet--the trail was waiting there to teach me many things, and
+Jondo's words rang through the aisles of my brain:
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the open plains
+and the green prairies, and the danger stimulus of the old Santa Fé
+Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard, rebellious
+heart, and make you see things big, and despise the little crooks in
+your path."
+
+Our Conestoga wagons, with their mule-teams, and the few ponies for
+scout service, followed the old trail out of the valley of the Rio
+Grande to the tablelands eastward, up the steep sidling way into the
+passes of the Glorietta Mountains, down through lone, wind-swept cañons,
+and on between wild, scarred hills, coming, at last, beyond the
+picturesque ridges, snow-crowned and mesa-guarded, into the long, gray,
+waterless lands of the Cimmarron country. Here we journeyed along
+monotonous levels that rose and fell unnoted because of lack of
+landmarks to measure by, only the broad, beaten Santa Fé Trail stretched
+on unbending, unchanging, uneffaceable.
+
+As the distance from spring to spring decreased, every drop of water
+grew precious, and we pushed on, eager to reach the richer prairies of
+the Arkansas Valley. Suddenly in the monotony of the way, and the
+increasing calls of thirst, there came a sense of danger, the plains-old
+danger of the Comanche on the Cimarron Trail. Bill Banney caught it
+first--just a faint sign of one hostile track. All the next day Jondo
+scouted far, coming into camp at nightfall with a grave report.
+
+"The water-supply is failing," he told us, "and there is something wrong
+out there. The Comanches are hovering near, that's certain, and there is
+a single trail that doesn't look Comanche to me that I can't account
+for. All we can do is to 'hold fast,'" he added, with his cheery smile
+that never failed him.
+
+That night I could not sleep, and the stars and I stared long at each
+other. They were so golden and so far away. And one, as I looked,
+slipped from its place and trailed wide across the sky until it
+vanished, leaving a stream of golden light that lingered before my eyes.
+I thought of the trail in the San Christobal Valley, and again I saw the
+sunlight on golden hair as Eloise with Little Blue Flower passed out of
+sight around the shoulder of a great rock beside the way. At last came
+sleep, and in my dreams Eloise was beside me as she had been in the
+church of San Miguel, her dark eyes looking up into mine. I knew, in my
+dream, that I was dreaming and I did not want to waken. For, "Eloise
+loved Beverly, would always love him." Little Blue Flower had said it.
+The face was far away, this side of misty mountain peaks, and farther
+still. I could see only the eyes looking at me. I wakened to see only
+the stars looking at me. I slept again deeply and dreamlessly, and
+wakened suddenly. We were far and away from the Apache country, but
+there, for just one instant, a face came close to mine--the face of
+Santan--the Apache. It vanished instantly as it had come. The night
+guard passed by me and crossed the camp. The stars held firm above me. I
+had had another dream. But after that I did not sleep till dawn.
+
+The day was very hot, with the scorching breeze of the plains that sears
+the very eyeballs dry. Through the dust and glare we pressed on over
+long, white, monotonous miles. Hovering near us somewhere were the
+Comanches--waiting; with us was burning thirst; ahead of us ran the
+taunting mirage--cool, sparkling water rippling between green
+banks--receding as we approached, maddening us by the suggestion of its
+refreshing picture, the while we knew it was only a picture. For it is
+Satan's own painting on the desert to let men know that Dante's dream is
+mild compared to the real art of torment. Men and animals began to give
+way under the day's burden, and we moved slowly. In times like these
+Jondo stayed with the train, sending Bill Banney and Beverly scouting
+ahead. That was the longest day that I ever lived on the Santa Fé Trail,
+although I followed its miles many times in the best of its freighting
+years.
+
+The weary hours dragged at last toward evening, and a dozen signs in
+plains lore told us that water must be near. As we topped a low swell at
+the bottom of whose long slide lay the little oasis we were seeking, we
+came upon Bill Banney's pony lying dead across the trail. And near it
+Bill himself, with bloated face and bleared eyes, muttering
+half-coherently:
+
+"Water-hole! Poison! Don't drink!"
+
+And then he babbled of the muddy Missouri, and the Kentucky blue grass,
+and cold mountain springs in the passes of the Gloriettas, warning us
+thickly of "death down there."
+
+"Down there," beside the little spring shelved in by shale at the lower
+edge of the swell, we found a tiny cairn built of clumps of sod and bits
+of shale. Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's note-book with the
+words
+
+     Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very far on.--BILL.
+
+So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach us. But for
+fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning and left it here.
+Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round the place and threshed the
+ground in agony when he tried to mount his poisoned pony, and his first
+thought was for us. The plains made men see big. Jondo had told me they
+could do it. Poor Bill, moaning for water now and tossing in agony in
+Jondo's wagon! The Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we
+hated them as we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!
+
+Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had a
+mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching glance.
+
+"We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope. Come,
+Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow now."
+
+A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch of
+coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided draw
+across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face downward beside a
+dead pony. We scrambled down, shattering the dry earth after us as we
+went. Jondo gently lifted the body and turned it face upward. It was
+Ferdinand Ramero.
+
+The big plainsman did not cry out, nor drop his hold, but his face
+turned gray, and only the dying man saw the look in the blue eyes gazing
+into his. Ramero tried to draw away, fear, and hate, and the old
+dominant will that ruled his life, strong still in death. As he lay at
+the feet of the man whose life hopes he had blasted, he expected no
+mercy and asked for none.
+
+"You have me at last. I didn't put the poison in that spring. I would
+not have drunk it if I had. It was the one below I fixed for you. And
+I'm in your power now. Be quick about it."
+
+For one long minute Jondo looked down at his enemy. Then he lifted his
+eyes to mine with the victory of "him that overcometh" shining in their
+blue depths.
+
+"If I could make you live, I'd do it, Fred. If you have any word to say,
+be quick about it now. Your time is short."
+
+The sweetness of that gentle voice I hear sometimes to-day in the low
+notes of song-birds, and the gentle swish of refreshing summer showers.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero lifted his cold blue eyes and looked at the man bending
+over him.
+
+"Leave me here--forgotten--"
+
+"Not of God. His Mercy endureth forever," Jondo replied.
+
+But there was no repentance, no softening of the hard, imperious heart.
+
+We left him there, pulling down the loose earth from the steep sides of
+the draw to cover him from all the frowning elements of the plains. And
+when we went back to the waiting train Jondo reported, grimly:
+
+"_No enemy in sight."_
+
+We laid Bill Banney beside the poisoned spring, from whose bitter waters
+he had saved our lives. So martyrs filled the unknown graves that made
+the milestones of the way in the days of commerce-building on the old
+Santa Fé Trail.
+
+The next spring was not far ahead, as Bill's note had said, but the
+stars were thick above us and the desolate land was full of shadows
+before we reached it--a thirst-mad, heart-sore crowd trailing slowly on
+through the gloom of the night.
+
+Beverly was waiting for us and the refreshing moisture of the air above
+a spring seemed about him.
+
+"I thought you'd never come. Where's Bill? There's water here. I made
+the spring myself," he shouted, as we came near.
+
+The spring that he had digged for us was in the sandy bed of a dry
+stream, with low, earth-banks on either side. It was full of water,
+hardly clear, but plentiful, and slowly washing out a bigger pool for
+itself as it seeped forth.
+
+"There is poison in the real spring down there." Beverly pointed toward
+the diminished fountain we had expected to find. "I've worked since noon
+at this."
+
+We drank, and life came back to us. We pitched camp, and then listened
+to Beverly's story of the sweet and bitter waters of the trail that day.
+And all the while it seemed as if Bill Banney was just out of sight and
+might come galloping in at any moment.
+
+"You know what happened up the trail," my cousin said, sadly. "Bill was
+ahead of me and he drank first, and galloped back to warn me and beg me
+to come on for water. I thought I could get down here and take some
+water back to Bill in time. It's all shale up there. No place to dig
+above, nor below, even if one dared to dig below that poison. But I
+found a dead coyote that had just left here, and all springs began to
+look Comanche to me. I lariated my pony and crept down under the bank
+there to think and rest. Everything went poison-spotted before my eyes."
+
+"Where's your pony now, Bev?" Jondo asked.
+
+"I don't know sure, but I expect he is about going over the Raton Pass
+by this time," Beverly replied. "Down there things seemed to swim around
+me like water everywhere and I knew I'd got to stir. Just then an Indian
+came slipping up from somewhere to the spring to drink. He didn't look
+right to me at all, but I couldn't sit still and see him kill himself.
+If he needed killing I could have done it for him, for he never saw me.
+Just as he stooped I saw his face. It was that Apache--Santan--the
+wander-foot, for I never heard of an Apache getting so far from the
+mountains. I ought to have kept still, Jondo"--Beverly's ready smile
+came to his face--"but I'd made that fellow swear he'd let me eternally
+alone when we had our little fracas up by the San Christobal Arroyo, so
+something like conscience, mean as the stomach-ache, made me call out:
+
+"'Don't drink there; it's poison.'
+
+"He stopped and stared at me a minute, or ten minutes--I didn't count
+time on him--and then he said, slow-like:
+
+"'It's the spring west that is poisoned. I put it there for you. You
+will not see your men again. They will drink and die. Who put this
+poison here?'
+
+"'Lord knows. I didn't,' I told him. 'Two of you carrying poison are two
+too many for the Cimarron country.'
+
+"And I hadn't any more conscience after that, but I was faint and slow,
+and my aim was bad for eels. He could have fixed me right then, but for
+some reason he didn't."
+
+Beverly's face grew sad.
+
+"He made six jumps six ways, and caught my pony's lariat. I can hear his
+yell still as he tore a hole in the horizon and jumped right through.
+Then I began on that spring. 'Dig or die. Dig or die.' I said over and
+over, and we are all here but Bill. I wish I'd got that Apache, though."
+
+Jondo and I looked at each other.
+
+"The thing is clear now," he said, aside to me. "That single trail I
+found back yonder day before yesterday was Santan's running on ahead of
+us to poison the water for us and then steal a horse and make his way
+back to the mountains. An Apache can live on this cactus-covered sand
+the same as a rattlesnake. He fixed the upper spring and came down here
+to drink. Only Beverly's conscience saved him here. Heaven knows how
+Fred Ramer got out here. He may have come with some Mexicans on ahead of
+us and left them here to drop his poison in this lower spring. Then he
+turned back toward Santa Fé and found his doom up there at Santan's
+spring.
+
+"I'm like Bev. I wish he had gotten the Apache, now. I don't know yet
+how I was fooled in him, for he has always been Fred Ramer's tool, and
+Father Josef never trusted him. And to think that Bill Banney, in no way
+touching any of our lives, should have been martyred by the crimes of
+Fred and this Apache! But that's the old, old story of the trail. Poor
+Bill! I hope his sleep will be sweet out in this desolate land. We'll
+meet him later somewhere."
+
+The winds must have carried the tale of poisoned water across the
+Cimarron country, for the Comanches' trail left ours from that day.
+Through threescore and ten miles to the Arkansas River we came, and
+there was not a well nor spring nor sign of water in all that distance.
+What water we had we carried with us from the Cimarron fountains. But
+the sturdy endurance of the days was not without its help to me. And the
+wide, wind-swept prairies of Kansas taught me many things. In the
+lonely, beautiful land, through long bright days and starlit nights, I
+began to see things bigger than my own selfish measure had reckoned. I
+thought of Esmond Clarenden and his large scheme of business; Felix
+Narveo, the true-hearted friend; and of Father Josef and his life of
+devotion. And I lived with Jondo every day. I could not forget the hour
+in the little ruined chapel in the San Christobal Valley, and how he
+himself had made no effort to clear his own name. But I remembered,
+too, that Father Josef, mercilessly just to Ferdinand Ramero, had not
+even asked Jondo to defend himself from the black charge against him.
+
+The sunny Kansas prairies, the far open plains, and the wild mountain
+trails beyond, had brought their blessing to Jondo, whose life had known
+so much of tragedy. And my cross was just my love for a girl who could
+not love me. That was all. Jondo had never forgotten nor ceased to love
+the mother of Eloise St. Vrain. I should be like Jondo in this. But the
+world is wide. Life is full of big things. Henceforth, while I would not
+forget, I, too, would be big and strong, and maybe, some time, just as
+sunny-faced as my big Jondo.
+
+The trail life, day by day, did bring its blessing to me. The clear,
+open land, the far-sweeping winds, the solitude for thought, the bravery
+and gentleness of the rough men who walked the miles with me, the
+splendor of the day-dawn, the beauty of the sunset, the peace of the
+still starlit night, sealed up my wounds, and I began to live for others
+and to forget myself; to dream less often, and to work more gladly; to
+measure men, not by what had been, but by how they met what was to be
+done.
+
+From all the frontier life, rough-hewn and coarse, the elements came
+that helped to make the big brave West to-day, and I know now that not
+the least of source and growth of power for these came out of the
+strength and strife of the things known only to the men who followed the
+Santa Fé Trail.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+
+
+    The mind hath a thousand eyes,
+      And the heart but one.
+             --BOURDILLON.
+
+
+Busy years, each one a dramatic era all its own, made up the annals of
+the Middle West as the nation began to feel the thrill for expansion in
+its pulse-beat. The territorial days of Kansas were big with the tragic
+events of border warfare, and her birth into statehood marked the
+commencement of the four years of civil strife whose record played a
+mighty part in shaping human destiny.
+
+Meanwhile the sunny Kansas prairies lay waiting for the hearthstone and
+the plow. And young men, trained in camp and battle-field, looked
+westward for adventure, fortune, future homes and fame. But the tribes,
+whose hunting-grounds had been the green and grassy plains, yielded
+slowly, foot by foot, their stubborn claim, marking in human blood the
+price of each acre of the prairie sod. The lonely homesteads were the
+prey of savage bands, and the old Santa Fé Trail, always a way of
+danger, became doubly perilous now to the men who drove the vans of
+commerce along its broad, defenseless miles. The frontier forts
+increased: Hays and Harker, Larned and Zarah, and Lyon and Dodge became
+outposts of power in the wilderness, whose half-forgotten sites to-day
+lie buried under broad pasture-lands and fields of waving grain.
+
+One June day, as the train rolled through the Missouri woodlands along
+rugged river bluffs, Beverly Clarenden and I looked eagerly out of the
+car window, watching for signs of home. It was two years after the close
+of the Civil War. We had just finished six years of Federal service and
+were coming back to Kansas City. We were young men still, with all the
+unsettled spirit that follows the laying aside of active military life
+for the wholesome but uneventful life of peace.
+
+The time of our arrival had been uncertain, and the Clarenden household
+had been taken by surprise at our coming.
+
+"I wonder how it will seem to settle down in a store, Bev, after toting
+shooting-irons for six years," I said to my cousin, as the train neared
+Kansas City.
+
+"I don't know," Beverly replied, with a yawn, "but I'm thinking that
+after we see all the folks, and play with Mat's little boys awhile, and
+eat Aunty Boone's good stuff till we begin to get flabby-cheeked and
+soft-muscled, and our jaws crack from smiling so much when we just
+naturally want to get out and cuss somebody--about that time I'll be
+ready to run away, if I have to turn Dog Indian to do it."
+
+"There's a new Clarenden store at a place called Burlingame out in
+Kansas now, somewhere on the old trail. Maybe it will be far enough away
+to let you get tamed gradually to civil life there, if Uncle Esmond
+thinks you are worth it," I suggested.
+
+"Rex Krane is to take charge of that as soon as we get home. Yonder are
+the spires and minarets and domes of Kansas City. Put on your company
+grin, Gail," Beverly replied, as we began to run by the huts and cabins
+forming the outworks of the little city at the Kaw's mouth.
+
+Six years had made many changes in the place, but the same old welcome
+awaited us, and we became happy-hearted boys again as we climbed the
+steep road up the bluff to the Clarenden house. On the wide veranda
+overlooking the river everybody except one--Bill Banney, sleeping under
+the wind-caressed sod beside the Cimarron spring--was waiting to greet
+us. There were Esmond Clarenden and Jondo, in the prime of middle life,
+the one a little bald, and more than a little stout; the other's heavy
+hair was streaked with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical
+strength told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty
+for the years before him. The prairies had long since become his home;
+but whether in scout service for the Government, or as wagon-master for
+a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same big, brave, loyal
+Jondo.
+
+And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife beside
+him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something Madonna-like
+in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little boys, Esmond, and Rex,
+Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy welcome at us.
+
+In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty Boone.
+She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy days, when I
+considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she looked at us.
+
+"Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once more
+'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get your supper
+right away. Whoo-ee!"
+
+As she turned away, Mat said:
+
+"There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to meet. She
+has just come and doesn't even know that you are expected. It is 'Little
+Lees.'"
+
+A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall, a
+presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with her golden
+hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big dark eyes and
+their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her dainty coloring, and
+beyond all these the beauty of womanly strength written in her
+countenance.
+
+Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a deeper
+shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June roses. She
+stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in an instant the rich
+bloom came back to them again.
+
+"I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
+unannounced," Mat said.
+
+"You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in, as he
+took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at meeting her
+again.
+
+Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always greeted
+him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two when they came
+together. Little Blue Flower was right about them. They seemed to fit
+each other.
+
+But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just one
+glance. I feel it yet, and the soft touch of her hand as it lay in mine
+a moment.
+
+I think we chatted all together for a while. I had a wound at Malvern
+Hill that used to make me dizzy. That, or an older wound, made my pulse
+frantic now. I know that it was a rare June day, and the breeze off the
+river came pouring caressingly over the bluff. I remember later that
+Uncle Esmond and Jondo and Rex Krane went to the Clarenden store, and
+that Mat was helping Aunty Boone inside, while Beverly let the two
+little Kranes take him down the slope to see some baby squirrels or
+something. And Eloise and I were left alone beneath the trees, where
+once we had sat together long ago in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom."
+For me, all the strength of the years wherein I had built a wall around
+my longing love, all my manly loyalty to my cousin's claims, were swept
+away, as I have seen the big Missouri floods, joined by the lesser Kaw,
+sweep out bridges, snapping like sticks before their power.
+
+"Eloise, it seems a hundred years since I saw you and Little Blue Flower
+ride away up the San Christobal River trail out of my sight," I said.
+
+"It has been a long time, but we are not yet old. You seem the same. And
+as for me, I feel as if the clock had stopped awhile and had suddenly
+started to ticking anew."
+
+It was wonderful to sit beside her and hear her voice again. I did not
+dare to ask about her mother, but I am sure she read my thoughts, for
+she went on:
+
+"My mother is gone now. She was as happy as a child and never had a
+sorrow on her mind after her dreadful fever, although the doctors say
+she might have been restored if I had only been with her then. But it is
+all ended now."
+
+Eloise paused with saddened face, and looked out toward the Missouri
+River, boiling with June rains and melted snows.
+
+"It is all right now," she went on, bravely. "Sister Gloria--you know
+who she was--stayed with me to the last. And I have a real mound of
+earth in the cemetery beside my father." The last two words were spoken
+softly. "Sister Gloria is in the convent now. Marcos is a common
+gambler. His father disappeared and left him penniless. Esmond Clarenden
+says that his father died out on the plains somewhere."
+
+"And Father Josef?" I inquired.
+
+"Is still the same strong friend to everybody. He spends much time
+among the Hopi people. I don't know why, for they are hopelessly
+heathen. Their own religion has so many beautiful things to offset our
+faith that they are hard to convert."
+
+"And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a squaw
+in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of St. Ann's did
+for her?"
+
+A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.
+
+"Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in Eloise's
+voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I sometimes think that
+none of them--American, English, Spanish, French, Mexican, nor any
+others of our pale-faced people, have quite such bitter acts as the
+Indian tragedy among a gentle race like the people of Hopi-land."
+
+"I hope you will stay with us now."
+
+I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy, but a
+young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had seen this
+girl ride away from me without one good-by word or glance. I had heard
+her message to me through Little Blue Flower. I had suffered and
+outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch of her hand, one smile, one
+look from her beautiful eyes, and all the barrier of the years fell
+down. I wondered vaguely now about Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if
+things became too monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could
+not think anything.
+
+"I have no present plans. Father Josef and Esmond Clarenden thought it
+would be well for me to come up to Kansas and look at green prairies
+instead of red mesas for a while; to rest my eyes, and get my strength
+again--which I have never lost," Eloise said, with a smile. "And Jondo
+says--"
+
+She did not tell me what Jondo had said, for Beverly and Mat and the two
+rollicking boys joined us just then and we talked of many things of the
+earlier years.
+
+I cannot tell how that June slipped by, nor how Eloise, in the full
+bloom of her young womanhood, with the burdens lifted from her heart and
+hands, was no more the clinging, crushed Eloise who had sat beside me in
+the church of San Miguel, but a self-reliant and deliciously
+companionable girl-woman. With Beverly she was always gay, matching him,
+mood for mood; and if sometimes I caught the fleeting edge of a shadow
+in her eyes, it was gone too soon to measure. I did not seek her company
+alone, because I knew that I could not trust myself. Over and over,
+Jondo's words, when he had told me the story of Mary Marchland, came
+back to me:
+
+"And although they loved each other always, they never saw each other
+again."
+
+Nobody, outside of those touched by it, knew Jondo's story, except
+myself. He was Theron St. Vrain's brother, yet Eloise never called him
+uncle, and, except for the one mention of her father's grave, she did
+not speak of him. He was not even a memory to her. And both men's names
+were forever stained with the black charge against them.
+
+One evening in late June, Uncle Esmond called me into council.
+
+"Gail, Rex leaves to-morrow for the new store at Burlingame, Kansas. It
+is two days out on the Santa Fé Trail. Bev will go with him and stay for
+a while. I want you to drive through with Mat and the children and
+Eloise a day or two later."
+
+"Eloise?" I looked up in surprise.
+
+"Yes; she will visit with Mat for a while. She has had some trying years
+that have taxed her heavily. The best medicine for such is the song of
+the prairie winds," Uncle Esmond replied.
+
+"And after that?" I insisted.
+
+"We will wait for 'after that' till it gets here," my uncle smiled as he
+spoke. "There are more serious things on hand than where out Little Lees
+will eat her meals. She seems able to take care of herself anywhere.
+Wonderfully beautiful and charming young woman she is, and her troubles
+have strengthened her character without robbing her of her youth and
+happy spirits."
+
+Esmond Clarenden spoke reminiscently, and I stared at him in surprise
+until suddenly I remembered that Jondo had said, "We were all in love
+with Mary Marchland." Eloise must seem to him and Jondo like the Mary
+Marchland they had known in their young manhood. But my uncle's mood
+passed quickly, and his face was very grave as he said:
+
+"The conditions out on the frontier are serious in every way right now.
+The Indians are on the war-path, leaving destruction wherever they set
+foot. Something must be done to protect the wagon-trains on the Santa Fé
+Trail. I have already lost part of two valuable loads this season, and
+Narveo has lost three. But the appalling loss of property is nothing
+compared to the terror and torture to human life. The settlers on the
+frontier claims are being massacred daily. The Governor of Kansas is
+doing all he can to get some action from the army leaders at Washington.
+But you haven't been in military service for six years without finding
+out that some army leaders are flesh and blood, and some are only
+wood--plain wooden wood. Meantime, the story of one butchery doesn't get
+to the Missouri River before the story of another catches up with it.
+It's bad enough when it's ruinous to just my own commercial
+business--but in cases like this, humanity is my business."
+
+What a man he was--that Esmond Clarenden! They still say of him in
+Kansas City that no sounder financier and no bigger-hearted humanitarian
+ever walked the streets of that "Gateway to the Southwest" than the
+brave little merchant-plainsman who builded for the generations that
+should follow him.
+
+"What will be the outcome, Uncle Esmond? Are we to lose all we have
+gained out here?" I asked.
+
+"Not if we are real Westerners. It's got to be stopped. The question
+is, how soon," my uncle replied.
+
+That night in a half-waking dream I remembered Aunty Boone's prophetic
+greeting a few days before, and how her eyes had narrowed and grown dull
+as she said, "One more stainin' of your hands 'fore you are through."
+
+I had given six good years to army service--the years which young men
+give to college and to establishing themselves in their life-work. But
+the vision of the three men whom I had seen under the elm-tree at Fort
+Leavenworth came back to me, and only one--the cavalry man--moved
+westward now. I knew that I was dreaming, but I did not want to waken
+till the vision of a fair face whose eyes looked into mine should come
+to make my dream sweet and restful.
+
+But in my waking hours, in spite of the gravity of conditions that
+troubled Esmond Clarenden, in spite of the terrible tidings of daily
+killings on the unprotected plains, I forgot everything except the girl
+beside me as I went with her and Mat and the children to the new home in
+the village of Burlingame beside the Santa Fé Trail.
+
+Eloise St. Vrain had come up to Kansas to let the green prairies shut
+out the memory of tall red mesas. About the little town of Burlingame
+the prairies were waiting for her eyes to see. It nestled beside a deep
+creek under the shelter of forest trees, with the green prairie lapping
+up to its edges on every side. The trail wound round the shoulder of a
+low hill, and, crossing the stream, it made the main street of the
+town, then wandered on westward to where a rim of ground shut the view
+of its way from the settlement under the trees by the creek. A stanch
+little settlement it was, and, like many Kansas towns of the '60's, with
+big, but never-to-be realized, ambition to become a city. Into its life
+and up-building Rex Krane was to throw his good-natured Yankee
+shrewdness, and Mat her calm, generous spirit; vanguards they were,
+among the home-makers of a great State.
+
+My stay in the place was brief, and I saw little of Eloise until the
+evening before I was to return to Kansas City. I had meant to go away,
+as she had left me in the San Christobal Valley, without one backward
+look, but I couldn't do it; and at the close of my last day I went to
+the Krane home, where I found her alone. It was the long after-sunset
+hour, with the refreshing evening breezes pouring in from all the green
+levels about us.
+
+"Rex is at the store, and the others are all gone fishing," Eloise said,
+in answer to my inquiry for the family.
+
+"Mat and Bev always did go fishing on every occasion that I can
+remember, and they will make fishermen of little Esmond and Rex now.
+Would you like to go up to the west side of town and look into New
+Mexico?" I asked, wondering why Beverly should go fishing with Mat when
+Eloise was waiting for his smile.
+
+But I was desperately lonely to-night, and I might not see Eloise again
+until after she and Beverly--I could not go farther. She smiled and
+said, lightly:
+
+"I'm just honin' for a walk, as Aunty Boone would say, but I'm not quite
+ready to see New Mexico yet."
+
+"Oh, it's only a thing made of evening mists rising from the meadows,
+and bits of sunset lights left over when the day was finished," I
+assured her.
+
+So we left the shadow of the tall elms and strolled up the main street
+toward the west.
+
+Where the one cross-street cut the trail in the center of the village
+there was a public well. The ground around it was trampled into mud by
+many hoofs. A Mexican train had just come in and was grouped about this
+well, drinking eagerly.
+
+"What news of the plains?" I asked their leader as we passed.
+
+"I cannot tell you with the lady here," he replied, bowing courteously.
+"It is too awful. A spear hung with a scalp of pretty baby hair like
+hers. I see it yet. The plains are all _alive--alive_ with hostile red
+men; and the worst one of all--he that had the golden scalp--is but a
+half-breed Cheyenne Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he."
+
+The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and
+struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then passed
+up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward route.
+
+The mists were rising from the lowlands; along the creek the sunset sky
+was all a flaming glory, under whose deep splendor the June prairies lay
+tenderly green and still; down in the village the sounds of the Mexicans
+settling into camp; the shouting of children, romping late; and out
+across the levels, the mooing call of milking-time from some far-away
+settler's barn-yard; a robin singing a twilight song in the elms;
+crickets chirping in the long grass; and the gentle evening breeze sweet
+and cool out of the west--such was the setting for us two. We paused on
+the crest of the ridge and sat down to watch the afterglow of a prairie
+twilight. We did not speak for a long time, but when our eyes met I knew
+the hour had been made for me. In such an hour we had sat beside the
+glistening Flat Rock down in the Neosho Valley. I was a whole-hearted
+boy when I went down there, full of eagerness for the life of adventure
+on the trail, and she a girl just leaving boarding-school. And now--life
+sweetens so with years.
+
+"I think I can understand why your uncle thought it would be well for me
+to come to Kansas," Eloise said at last. "There is an inspiration and
+soothing restfulness in a thing like this. Our mountains are so huge and
+tragical; and even their silences are not always gentle. And our plains
+are dry and gray. And yet I love the valley of the Santa Fé, and the old
+Ortiz and Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the
+Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them for
+help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang his psalms of
+hope and victory."
+
+"Yes, Nature is kind to us if we will let her be. Jondo told me that
+long ago, and I've proved it since. But I have always loved the
+prairies. And this ridge here belongs to me," I replied.
+
+Eloise looked up inquiringly.
+
+"I'll tell you why. When I was a little boy, years ago, a day-dreaming,
+eager-hearted little boy, we camped here one night. That was my first
+trip over the trail to Santa Fé. You haven't forgotten it and what a big
+brown bob-cat I looked like when I got there. I grew like weeds in a
+Kansas corn-field on that trip."
+
+"Oh, I remember you. Go on," Eloise said, laughingly.
+
+"That night after supper, everybody had left camp--Mat and Bev were
+fishing--and I was alone and lonely, so I came up here to find what I
+could see of the next day's trail. It was such an hour as this. And as I
+watched the twilight color deepen, my own horizon widened, and I think
+the soul of a man began, in that hour, to look out through the little
+boy's eyes; and a new mile-stone was set here to make a landmark in my
+life-trail. The boy who went back slowly to the camp that night was not
+the same little boy that had run up here to spy out the way of the next
+day's journey."
+
+The afterglow was deepening to purple; the pink cloud-flecks were
+turning gray in the east, and a kaleidoscope of softest rose and tender
+green and misty lavender filled the lengthening shadows of the twilight
+prairie.
+
+"Eloise, I had a longing that night, still unfulfilled. I wish I dared
+to tell you what it was."
+
+I turned to look at the fair girl-woman beside me. In the twilight her
+eyes were always like stars; and the golden hair and the pink bloom of
+her cheeks seemed richer in their shadowy setting. To-night her gown was
+white--like the Greek dress she had worn at Mat's wedding, on the night
+when she met Beverly in the little side porch at midnight. Why did I
+recall that here?
+
+"What was your wish, Gail?" The voice was low and sweet.
+
+I took her hand in mine and she did not draw away from me.
+
+"That I might some day have a real home all my own down there among the
+trees. I was a little homesick boy that night, and I came up here to
+watch the sunset and see the open level lands that I have always loved.
+Eloise, Jondo told me once of three young college men who loved your
+beautiful mother, and because of that love they never married anybody,
+but they lived useful, happy lives. I can understand now why they should
+love her, and why, because they could not have her love, they would not
+marry anybody else. One was my uncle Esmond, and one was Father Josef."
+
+"And the third?" The voice was very low and a tremor shook the hand I
+held.
+
+"He did not tell me. And I speak of it now only to show you that in what
+I want to say I am not altogether selfish and unkind. I love you,
+Eloise. I have loved you since the day, long ago, when your face came
+before me on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I told you of that
+once down on the bluff by the Clarenden home at Kansas City. I shall
+love you, as the Bedouin melody runs,
+
+    Til the sun grows cold,
+    And the stars are old,
+    And the leaves of the judgment
+            Book unfold!
+
+"But I know that it will end as Uncle Esmond's and Father Josef's loving
+did, in my living my life alone."
+
+Eloise quickly withdrew her hand, and the pain in her white face haunts
+me still.
+
+"I do not want to hurt you, oh, Eloise. I know I do wrong to speak, but
+to-night will be the last time. I thought that night in the church at
+San Miguel, and that next day when we rode for our lives together, that
+you cared for me who would have walked through fire for you. But in that
+hour in the little chapel a barrier came between us. You rode away
+without one word or glance. And I turned back feeling that my soul was
+falling into ruins like that half-ruined little pile of stone that some
+holy padre had built his heart into years and years ago. Then Little
+Blue Flower brought your message to me and I knew as I sat beside Fort
+Marcy's wall that night, and saw the sun go down, that the light of my
+life was going out with it."
+
+"But, Gail," Eloise exclaimed, "I said I could not send you any word,
+but you would understand. I--I couldn't say any more than that." Her
+voice was full of tears and she turned away from me and looked at the
+last radiant tints edging the little cloud-flecks above the horizon.
+
+"Of course I understand you, Eloise, and I do not blame you. I never
+could blame you for anything." I sprang to my feet. "You'll hate me if I
+say another word," I said, savagely.
+
+She rose up, too, and put her hand on my arm. Oh, she was beautiful as
+she stood beside me. So many times I have pictured her face, I will not
+try to picture it as it looked now in this sweet, sacred moment of our
+lives.
+
+"Gail, I could never hate you. You do not understand me. I cannot help
+what is past now. I hoped you might forget. And yet--" She paused.
+
+All men are humanly alike. In spite of my strong love for Beverly and my
+sense of right, the presence of the woman whose image for so many years
+had been in the sacredest shrine of my heart, Eloise, in all her beauty
+and her womanly strength and purity, standing beside me, her hand still
+on my arm--all overpowered me.
+
+I put my arms about her and held her close to me, kissing her forehead,
+her cheek, her lips. The world for one long moment was rose-hued like
+the sunset's afterglow; and sky and prairie, lowlands along the winding
+creek, and tall elm-trees above the deepening shadows, were all engulfed
+in a mist of golden glory, shot through with amethyst and sapphire, the
+dainty coraline pink of summer dawns, and the iridescent shimmer of
+mother-of-pearl.
+
+Heaven opens to us here and there such moments on the way of life. And
+the memory of them lingers like perfume through all the days that
+follow.
+
+We turned our faces toward the darkening village street and the tall
+elms above the gathering shadows, and neither spoke a word until we
+reached the door where I must say good night.
+
+"I cannot ask you to forgive me, Little Lees, because you let me have a
+bit of heaven up there. I shall go away a better man. And, remember,
+that no blessing in your life can be greater than I would wish for you
+to have."
+
+The brave white face was before my eyes and the low voice was in my ears
+long after I had left her door.
+
+"Gail, I cannot help what has been, but I do not blame you. I should
+almost wish myself shut in again by the tall red mesas; but maybe, after
+all, the prairies are best for me. I am glad I have known you. Good
+night."
+
+"Goodnight," I said, and turned away.
+
+And that was all. The last light of day had gone from the sky, and the
+stars overhead were hidden by the thick leafage of the Burlingame elms.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+A MAN'S PART
+
+
+  Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us through
+     the years;
+  Heaven and hell rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;
+  Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove with
+     a gray,
+  To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic day?
+
+   --ROBERT W. SERVICE.
+
+
+However darkly the sun may go down on hope and love, the real sun shines
+on, day after day, with its inexorable call to duty. In less than a week
+after I had left Eloise and the vague hope of a home of my own under the
+big elm-trees of Burlingame, Governor Crawford of Kansas sent forth a
+call for a battalion of four companies of soldiers, and I heard the call
+and answered it.
+
+It was to be known as the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry, with Col. Horace L.
+Moore, a veteran soldier of tried mettle, at the head. We were to go at
+once to Fort Harker, in the valley of the Smoky Hill River, to begin a
+campaign against the Indians, who were laying waste the frontier
+settlements and attacking wagon-trains on the Sante Fé Trail.
+
+On the evening before I left home I sat on the veranda of the Clarenden
+house, waiting for Uncle Esmond to join me, when suddenly Beverly
+Clarenden strode over the edge of the hill. The sunny smile and the
+merry twinkle of his eye were Bev's own, and there wasn't a line on his
+face to show whether it belonged to the happy lover or the rejected
+suitor. I thought I could always read his moods when he had any. He had
+none to-night.
+
+"I just got in from Burlingame. At what hour do you leave to-morrow? I'm
+going along to chaperon you, as usual," he declared.
+
+"Why, Beverly Clarenden, I thought you were fixed at Burlingame, selling
+molasses and calico by the gallon," I exclaimed, but my real thought was
+not given to words.
+
+"And let the Cheyennes, and Kiowas, and Arapahoes, and other desperadoes
+of the plains gnaw clear into the heart of us? Not your uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's nephew. And, Gail, this won't be anything like we have had
+since those six Kiowas staked you out on Pawnee Rock once. The
+thoroughbred Indians are bad enough, but there is a half-breed leader of
+a band of Dog Indians that's worst of all. He's of the yellow kind, with
+wolf's fangs. A Mexican on the trail told me that this half-breed ties
+up with the worst of every tribe from the Coast Range mountains to
+Tecumseh, Kansas," Beverly declared.
+
+"I remember that Mexican. I saw him at the well in Burlingame," I
+replied, turning to look at the Kaw winding far away, for the memory of
+everything in Burlingame was painful to me.
+
+Aunty Boone's huge form appearing around the corner of the house shut
+off my view of the river just then. Her face was glistening, but her
+eyes were dull as she looked us over.
+
+"You stainin' your hands again," she purred. "Yes, Aunty. We are going
+to lick the redskins into ribbons," Beverly replied.
+
+"You never get that done. Lickin' never settles nobody. You just hold
+'em down till they strong enough to boost you off their heads again, and
+up they come. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The black woman gave a chuckle.
+
+"Well, I'd rather sit on their heads than have them sitting on mine, or
+yours, Aunty Boone," Beverly returned, laughingly.
+
+Aunty Boone's eyes narrowed and there was a strange light in them as she
+looked at us, saying:
+
+"You get into trouble, Mr. Bev, you see me comin', hot streaks, to help
+you out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She breathed her weird, African whoop and turned away.
+
+"I'll depend on you." Beverly's face was bright, and there was no shadow
+in his eyes, as he called after her retreating form.
+
+We chatted long together, and I hoped--and feared--to have him tell me
+the story of his suit with Eloise, and why in such a day, of all the
+days of his life, he should choose to run away to the warfare of the
+frontier. He could not have failed, I thought. Never a disappointed
+lover wore a smile like this. But Beverly had no story to tell me that
+night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The mid-July sun was shining down on a treeless landscape, across which
+the yellow, foam-flecked Smoky Hill River wound its sinuous way. Beside
+this stream was old Fort Harker, a low quadrangle of quarters, for
+military man and beast, grouped about a parade-ground for companionship
+rather than for protection. The frontier fort had little need for
+defensive strength. About its walls the Indian crawled submissively,
+fearful of munitions and authority. It was not here, but out on lonely
+trails, in sudden ambush, or in overwhelming numbers, or where long
+miles, cut off from water, or exhausting distance banished safe retreat,
+that the savage struck in all his fury.
+
+Eastward from Harker the scattered frontier homesteads crouched,
+defenseless, in the river valleys. Far to the northwest spread the
+desolate lengths of a silent land where the white man's foot had hardly
+yet been set. Miles away to the southwest the Santa Fé Trail wound among
+the Arkansas sand-hills, never, in all its history, less safe for
+freighters than in that summer of 1867.
+
+In this vast demesne the raiding Cheyenne, the cruel Kiowa, the
+blood-thirsty Arapahoe, with bands of Dog Indians and outlaws from every
+tribe, contested, foot by foot, for supremacy against the out-reaching
+civilization of the dominant Anglo-American. The lonely trails were
+measured off by white men's graves. The vagrant winds that bear the odor
+of alfalfa, and of orchard bloom to-day, were laden often with the smoke
+of burning homes, and often, too, they bore that sickening smell of
+human flesh, once caught, never to be forgotten. The story of that
+struggle for supremacy is a tragic drama of heroism and endurance. In it
+the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry played a stirring part.
+
+It seems but yesterday to me now, that July day so many years ago, when
+our four companies, numbering fewer than four hundred men, detrained
+from the Union Pacific train at Fort Harker on the Smoky Hill. And the
+faces of the men who were to lead us are clear in memory. Our commander,
+Colonel Moore, always brave and able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay,
+and Edgar Barker, and George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd,
+courageous scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking,
+young lieutenant, Frank Stahl. Ours was not to be a record of unfading
+glory, as national military annals show, yet it may count mightily when
+the Great Records are opened for final estimates. Those men who marched
+two thousand miles, back and forth, upon the trackless plains in that
+four months' campaign, have been forgotten in the debris of uneventful
+years. Our long-faded trails lie buried under wide alfalfa-fields and
+the paved streets of western Kansas towns. From the far springs that
+quenched our burning thirst comes water, trickling through a nickel
+faucet into a marble basin, now. Where the fierce sun seared our
+eyeballs, in a treeless, barren waste, green groves, atune with
+song-birds, cast long swaths of shade on verdant sod. The perils and the
+hardships of the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry are now but as a tale that is
+told.
+
+And yet of all the heroes whose life-trails cut my own, I account among
+the greatest those men under whose command, and with whose comradeship,
+I went out to serve the needs of my generation among the vanguards of
+the plains. And if in a sunset hour on the west ridge beyond the little
+town of Burlingame I had left a hopeless love behind me, I put a man's
+best energy into the thing before me.
+
+The battle-field alone is not the soldier's greatest test. I had kept
+step with men who charge an enemy on an open plain or storm a high
+defense in the face of sure defeat. I had been ordered with my company
+to take redoubts against the flaming throats of bellowing cannon in the
+life-and-death grip before Richmond. I had felt the awful thrill of
+carnage as my division surged back and forth across the blood-soaked
+lengths of Gettysburg, and I never once fell behind my comrades. The
+battle-field breeds courage, and self-forgetfulness, and exaltation,
+from the sense of duty squarely met.
+
+There were no battle-fields in 1867, where Greek met Greek in splendid
+gallantry, out on the Kansas plains. Over Fort Harker hung the pall of
+death, and in the July heat the great black plague of Asiatic cholera
+stalked abroad and scourged the land. Men were dying like rats, lacking
+everything that helps to drive death back. The volunteer who had offered
+himself to save the settlers from the scalping-knife had come here only
+to look into an open grave, and then, in agony, to drop into it. Such
+things test soldiers more than battle-fields. And our men turned back in
+fear, preferring the deserter's shame to quick, inglorious martyrdom by
+Asiatic cholera. I had a battle of my own the first night at Fort
+Harker. There was a growing moon and the night breeze was cool after the
+heat of the day. Beverly Clarenden and I went down to the river, whose
+tawny waters hardly hid the tawny sands beneath them. The plains were
+silent, but from all the hospital tents about the fort came the sharp,
+agonized cries of pain that forerun the last collapse of the
+plague-stricken sufferers. To get away from the sound of it all we
+wandered down the stream to where the banks of soft, caving earth on the
+farther side were higher than a man's head, and their shadow hid the
+current. We sat down and stared silently at the waters, scarcely
+whispering as they rolled along, and at the still shade of the farther
+bank upon them. The shadows thickened and moved a little, then grew
+still. We also grew still. Then they moved again just opposite us, and
+fell into three parts, as three men glided silently along under the
+bank's protecting gloom. We waited until they had reached the edge of
+the moonlight, and saw three soldiers pass swiftly out across the
+unprotected sands to other shadowy places further on.
+
+"Deserters!" Beverly said, half aloud. "You can stay here if you want
+to, Gail. I'd rather go up and listen to those poor wretches groan than
+stick down here and listen to the fiend inside of me to-night."
+
+He rose and stalked away, and I sat listening to myself. I could join
+those three men easily enough. The world is wide. I had no bond to hold
+me to one single place in it. I was young and strong, and life is sweet.
+Why let the black plague snuff me out of it? I had come here to serve
+the State. I should not serve it in a plague-marked grave. I rose to
+follow down the stream, to go to where the Smoky Hill joins the big
+Republican to make the Kaw, and on to where the Kaw reaches to the
+Missouri. But I would not stop there. I'd go until I reached the ocean
+somewhere.
+
+Would I?
+
+The memory of Jondo's eyes when they looked into mine on Pawnee Rock
+came unbidden across my mind. Jondo had lived a nameless man. How strong
+and helpful all his years had been! How starved had been my life without
+his love! I would be another Jondo, somewhere on earth.
+
+I stared after three faintly moving shadows down the stream. 'Twas well
+I waited, for Esmond Clarenden came to me now, clean-cut, honest,
+everybody's friend. How firm his life had been; and he had built into me
+a hatred of deceit and lies. And Jondo was another Uncle Esmond. In
+spite of the black shadow on his name, he walked the prairies like a
+prince always. I could not be like him if I were a deserter. Up-stream
+death was waiting for me; down-stream, disgrace. I turned and followed
+up the river's course, but the strength that forced me to it was greater
+than that which made me brave on battle-fields. And ever since that
+night beside the Smoky Hill I have felt gentler toward the man who
+falls.
+
+We were not idle long for Fort Harker had just been informed of an
+assault on a wagon-train on the Santa Fé Trail and our cavalry squadron
+hurried away at once to overtake and punish the assailants.
+
+We came into camp on the bank of Walnut Creek, at the close of a long
+summer day of blazing light and heat over the barren trails where there
+was no water; a day of long hours in the saddle; a day of nerve-wearing
+watchfulness. But we believed that we had left the plague-cursed region
+behind us, so we were light-hearted and good-natured; and we ate, and
+drank, and took our lot cheerfully.
+
+Among the men at mess that night I saw a new face which was nothing
+remarkable, except that something in it told me that I had already seen
+that face somewhere, some time. It is my gift never to forget a face,
+once seen, no matter how many years may pass before I see it twice. This
+soldier was a pleasant fellow, too, and, in a story he was telling,
+clever at imitating others.
+
+"Who is that man, Bev? The third one over there?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"Stranger to me. I don't believe I ever saw him before. Who is the
+fellow with the smile, Captain?" Beverly asked the officer beside him.
+
+"I don't know. He's not in my company. I'm finding new faces every day,"
+the captain replied.
+
+As twilight fell I saw the man again at the edge of the camp. He smiled
+pleasantly as he passed me, turning to look at Beverly, who did not see
+him, and in a minute he was cantering down to the creek beside our camp.
+I saw him cross it and ride quickly out of sight. But that smile brought
+to the face the thing that had escaped me.
+
+"I know that fellow now," I said to Beverly and the officer who came up
+just then. "He's Charlie Bent, the son of Colonel Bent. Don't you
+remember the little sinner at old Fort Bent, Bev?"
+
+"I do, and what a vicious little reptile he was," Beverly replied. "But
+Uncle Esmond told me that his father took him away early and had him
+schooled like a gentleman in the best Saint Louis had to give. I wonder
+whose company he is in."
+
+The officer stared at us.
+
+"You mean to say you know that cavalryman to be Charlie Bent?" he fairly
+gasped.
+
+"Of course it's Charlie. I never missed a face in all my life. That's
+his own," I replied.
+
+"The worst Indian on the plains!" the captain declared. "He stirs up
+more fiendishness than a whole regiment of thoroughbred Cheyennes could
+ever think of. He's led in every killing here since March."
+
+"Not Colonel Bent's son!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, he's the half-breed devil that we'll have to fight, and here he
+comes and eats with us and rides away."
+
+"He must be the fellow that the Mexican told us about back at
+Burlingame, Gail. I remember now he did say the brute's name was Bent,
+but I didn't rope him up with our Fort Bent chum. Gail would have run
+him down in half a minute if he had heard the name. I never could
+remember anything," Beverly said, in disgust. But the smile was peeping
+back of his frown, and he forgot the boy he was soon to have cause
+enough to remember.
+
+"We must run that rascal down to-night," the Captain declared, as he
+hurried away to consult with the other officers.
+
+But Charlie Bent was not run down that night. Before we had time to get
+over our surprise a scream of pain rang through the camp. Another
+followed, and another, and when an hour had passed a third of our forces
+was writhing in the clutches of the cholera.
+
+I shall never forget the long hours of that night beside the Walnut, nor
+Beverly Clarenden's face as he bent over the suffering men. For all of
+us who were well worked mightily to save our plague-stricken comrades,
+whose couches were of prairie grass and whose hospital roof was the
+starlit sky. However forgetful Beverly might be of names and faces, his
+strong hand had that soothing firmness that eased the agony of cramping
+limbs. Dear Bev! He comforted the sick, and caught the dying words, and
+straightened the relaxed bodies of the dead, and smiled next day, and
+forgot that he had done it.
+
+At last the night of horror passed, and day came, wan and hot and weary
+out of the east. But five of our comrades would see no earthly day
+again; and three dozen strong men of the day before lay stretched upon
+the ground, pulseless and shrunken and purple, with wrinkled skin and
+wide, unseeing eyes.
+
+Before the sun had risen our dead, coffined only by their army blankets,
+lay in unmarked graves. Our helpless living were placed in commissary
+wagons, and we took the trail slowly and painfully toward the Arkansas
+River.
+
+If Charley Bent had gathered up his band to strike that night there
+would have been a different chapter in the annals of the plains.
+
+I cannot follow with my pen the long marches of that campaign, and there
+was no honorable nor glorious warfare in it. It is a story of
+skirmishes, not of battles; of attack and repulse; of ambush and pursuit
+and retreat. It is a story of long days under burning skies, by whose
+fierce glare our brains seemed shriveling up and the world went black
+before our heat-bleared eyes. A story of hard night-rides, when weary
+bodies fought with watchful minds the grim struggle that drowsiness can
+wage, though sleep, we knew, meant death. It is a story of fevered
+limbs and bursting pulse in hospitals whose walls were prairie
+distances. A story of hunger, and exhausted rations; of choking thirst,
+with only alkali water mocking at us. And never could the story all be
+told. There is no rest for cavalrymen in the field. We did not suffer
+heavy loss, but here and there our comrades fell, by ones, and twos, at
+duty's post; and where they fell they lie, in wayside graves, waiting
+for glorious mention until the last reveille shall sound above the
+battlements of heaven.
+
+And I was one among these vanguards of the plains, making the old Santa
+Fé Trail safe for the feet of trade; and the wide Kansas prairies safe
+for homes, and happiness, and hope, and power. I lived the life, and
+toughened in its grind. But in my dreams sometimes my other life
+returned to me, and a sweet face, with a cloud of golden hair, and dark
+eyes looking into mine, came like a benediction to me. Another face came
+sometimes now--black, big, and glistening, with eyes of strange, far
+vision looking at me, and I heard, over and over, the words of Esmond
+Clarenden's cook:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I'll come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+But trouble never stuck to "Mr. Bev," because he failed to know it when
+it came.
+
+Mid-August found us at Fort Hays on the Smoky Hill, beyond whose
+protecting guns the wilderness ruled. A wilderness checkered by faint
+trails of lawless feet, a wilderness set with bloody claws and poison
+stings and cruel fangs, and slow, agonizing death. And with all a
+wilderness of weird, fascinating distances and danger, charm and beauty.
+The thrill of the explorer of new lands possessed us as we looked far
+into the heart of it. Here in these August days the Cheyenne and
+Arapahoe and Kiowa bands were riding trails blood-stained by victims
+dragged from lonely homesteads, and butchered, here and there, to make
+an Indian holiday. The scenes along the valleys of the Sappa and the
+Beaver and the Prairie Dog creeks were far too brutal and revolting to
+belong to modern life. Against these our Eighteenth Kansas, with a small
+body of United States cavalry, struck northward from Fort Hays. We
+rested through the long, hot days and marched by night. The moon was
+growing toward the full, and in its clear, white splendor the prairies
+lay revealed for miles about us. Our command was small and meagerly
+equipped, and we were moving on to meet a foe of overwhelming numbers.
+Men took strange odds with Fate upon the plains.
+
+Beyond the open, level lands lay a rugged region hemming in the valley
+of the Prairie Dog Creek. Here picturesque cliffs and deep, earth-walled
+cañons split the hills, affording easy ambush for a regiment of red men.
+And here, in a triangle of a few miles area, a new Thermopylae, with no
+Leonidas but Kansas plainsmen, was staged through two long August days
+and nights. One hundred and fifty of us against fifteen hundred
+fighting braves.
+
+In the early morning of a long, hot August day, we came to an open plain
+beyond the Prairie Dog Creek. Our supply-wagons and pack-mules were
+separated from us somewhere among the bluffs. We had had no food since
+the night before, and our canteens were empty--all on account of the
+blundering mismanagement of the United States officer who cammanded
+us. I was only a private, and a private's business is not to
+question, but to obey. And that major over us, cashiered for cowardice
+later, was not a Kansas man. Thank heaven for that!
+
+A score of us, including my cousin and myself, under a sergeant, and
+with good Scout Pliley, were suddenly ordered back among the hills.
+
+"Where do we go, and why?" Beverly asked me as we rode along.
+
+"I don't know," I replied. "But Captain Jenness and a file of men were
+lost out here somewhere last night. And Indian tracks step over one
+another all around here. I guess we are out to find what's lost, maybe.
+It isn't a twenty minutes' job, I know that."
+
+"And all our canteens empty, too! Why cut off all visible means of
+support in a time like this? Look at these bluffs and hiding-places,
+will you! A handful of Indians could scoop our whole body up and pitch
+us into the Prairie Dog Creek, and not be missed from a set in a
+war-dance," Beverly insisted. "Keep it strictly in the Clarenden family,
+Gail, but our honorable commander is a fool and a coward, if he is a
+United States major."
+
+"You speak as one expecting a promotion, Bev," I suggested.
+
+"I'd know how to use it if I got it," he smiled brightly at me as we
+quickened our pace not to fall behind.
+
+Every day of that campaign Beverly grew dearer to me. I am glad our
+lives ran on together for so many years.
+
+The cañons deepened and the whole region was bewildering, but still we
+struggled on, lost men searching for lost men. The sun blazed hotly, and
+the soft yellow bluffs of bone-dry earth reached down to the dry beds of
+one-time streams.
+
+High noon, and still no food, no water, and no lost men discovered. We
+had pushed out to a little opening, ridged in on either side by high,
+brown bluffs, when a whoop came from the head of the line.
+
+"Yonder they are! Yonder they are!"
+
+Half a dozen men, led by Captain Jenness, were riding swiftly to join us
+and we shouted in our joy. For some among us that was the last joyous
+shout. At that moment a yell from savage throats filled the air, and the
+thunder of hoofs shook the ground. Over the west ridge, half a mile
+away, five hundred Indians came swooping like a hurricane down upon us.
+And we numbered, altogether, twenty-nine. I can see that charge to-day:
+the blinding, yellow sky, the ridge melting into a cloud of tawny dust,
+the surge of ponies with their riders bending low above them; fronting
+them, our little group of cavalrymen formed into a hollow square, on
+foot, about our mounts; the Indians riding, in a wide circle around us,
+with blankets flapping, and streamer-decked lances waving high. And as I
+see, I hear again that wild, unearthly shriek and taunting yell and
+fiendish laughter. From every point the riflle-balls poured in
+upon us, while out of buffalo wallow and from behind each prairie-dog
+hillock a surge of arrows from unmounted Indians swept up against us. I
+had been on battle-fields before, but this was a circle out of hell set
+'round us there. And every man of of knew, as we sent back ball for
+ball, what capture here would mean for us before the merciful hand of
+death would seal our eyes.
+
+Suddenly, as we moved forward, the frantic circle halted and a hundred
+braves came dashing in a fierce charge upon us. Their leader, mounted on
+a great, white horse, rode daringly ahead, calling his men to follow
+him, and taunting us with cowardice. He spoke good English, and his
+voice rang clear and strong above the din of that strange struggle.
+Straight on he came, without once looking back, a revolver in each hand,
+firing as he rode. A volley from our carbines made his fellows stagger,
+then waver, break, and run. Not so the rider of the splendid white
+horse, who dared us to strike him down as he dashed full at us.
+
+"Come on, you coward Clarenden boys, and I'll fight you both. I've
+waited all these years to do it. I dare you. Oh, I dare you!"
+
+It was Charlie Bent.
+
+Nine balls from Clarenden carbines flew at him. Beverly and I were
+listed among the cleverest shots in Kansas, but not one ball brought
+harm to the daring outlaw. A score of bullets sung about his insolent
+face, but his seemed a charmed life. Right on he forged, over our men,
+and through the square to the Indian's circle on the other side, his
+mocking laughter ringing as he rode. A bloody scalp hung from his spear,
+and, turning 'round just out of range of our fire, shaking his trophy
+high, he shouted back:
+
+"We got all of the balance of your men. We'll get you yet."
+
+The sun glared fiercely on the bare, brown earth. A burning thirst began
+to parch our lips. We had had no food nor drink for more than twenty
+hours. Our horses, wounded with many arrows, were harder to care for
+than our brave, stricken men.
+
+Night came upon the cañons of the Prairie Dog, and with the darkness the
+firing ceased. Somewhere, not far away, there might be a wagon-train
+with food for us. And somewhere near there might be a hundred men or
+more of our command trying to reach us. But, whether the force and
+supplies were safe or the wagons were captured and all our comrades
+killed, as Charlie Bent had said, we could not know. We only knew that
+we had no food; that one man, and all but four of our cavalry horses
+lay dead out in the valley; that two men in our midst were slowly dying,
+and a dozen others suffering from wounds of battle, among these our
+captain and Scout Pliley; that we were in a wild, strange land, with
+Indians perching, vulture-like, on every hill-top, waiting for dawn to
+come to seize their starving prey.
+
+We heard an owl hoot here and there, and farther off an answering hoot;
+a coyote's bark, a late bird's note, another coyote, and a fainter hoot,
+all as night settled. And we knew that owl and coyote and twilight
+song-bird were only imitations--sentinel signals from point to point,
+where Indian videttes guarded every height, watching the trail with
+shadow-piercing eyes.
+
+The glossy cottonwood leaves, in the faint night breeze, rippled like
+pattering rain-drops on dry roofs in summertime, and the thin, willow
+boughs swayed gently over us. The full moon swept grandly up the
+heavens, pouring a flood of softened light over the valley of the
+Prairie Dog, whose steep bluffs were guarded by a host of blood-lusting
+savages, and whose cañons locked in a handful of intrepid men.
+
+If we could only slip out, undiscovered, in the dark we might find our
+command somewhere along the creek. It was a perilous thing to undertake,
+but to stay there was more perilous.
+
+"Say, Gail," Beverly whispered, when we were in motion, "somebody said
+once, 'There have been no great nations without processions,' but this
+is the darndest procession I ever saw to help to make a nation great.
+Hold on, comrade. There! Rest on my arm a bit. It makes it softer."
+
+The last words to a wounded soldier for whom Bev's grip eased the ride.
+
+It was a strange procession, and in that tragic gloom the boy's
+light-hearted words were balm to me.
+
+Silently and slowly we moved forward. The underbrush was thick on either
+side of the narrow, stony way that wound between sheer cliffs. We had
+torn up our blankets and shirts to muffle the horses' feet, that no
+sound of hoofs, striking upon the rocky path, might reach the ears of
+the Cheyenne and his allies crouching watchfully above us. At the head
+marched Captain Jenness and Scout Pliley, each with his carbine for a
+crutch and leaning on each other for support. Followed five soldiers as
+front guard through the defile. And then four horses, led by careful
+hands, bearing nine suffering, silent men upon their backs. Two of the
+horses carried three, and one bore two, and the last horse, one--a dying
+boy, whispering into my ear a message for his mother, as I held his
+hand. Behind us came the sergeants with the remainder, for rear-guard.
+And so we passed, mile after mile, winding in and out, to find some
+sheltering spot where, sinking in exhaustion, we might sleep.
+
+The midnight winds grew chill, and the tense strain of that slow march
+was maddening, but not a groan came from the wounded men. The vanguards
+of the plains knew how to take perilous trails and hold their peace.
+
+When the sun rose on the second day the hills about us swarmed with
+savages, whose demoniac yells rent the air. Leonidas had his back
+against a rock at old Thermopylae, but our Kansas plainsmen fought in a
+ring of fire.
+
+At day-dawn, our brave scout, Pliley, slipped away, and, after long
+hours among the barren hills, he found the main command.
+
+Men never gave up hope in the plains warfare, but each of us had saved
+one bullet for himself, if we must lose this game. The time for that
+last bullet had almost come when the sight of cavalrymen on a distant
+ridge told us that our scout was on its way to us again. It took a
+hero's heart to thread unseen the dangerous trails and find our comrades
+with the cavalry major and bring back aid, but Pliley did it for us--a
+man's part. May the sod rest lightly where he sleeps to-day.
+
+Meantime, on the day before, the main force of our cavalry, who had
+given us up for lost, had had their own long, fearful struggle. In the
+early morning, Lieutenant Stahl, scouting forward in an open plain,
+rushed back to give warning of Indians everywhere. And they were
+everywhere--a thousand strong against a feeble hundred caught in their
+midst. They rode like centaurs, and their aim was deadly true as they
+poured down, a murderous avalanche, from every hillslope. Their ponies'
+tails, sweeping the ground, lengthened by long horse-hair braids, with
+sticks thrust through at intervals by way of ornament; their waving
+blankets, and streamered lances held aloft; the savage roar from ten
+hundred throats; the mad impetus of their furious charge through clouds
+of dust and rifle smoke--all made the valley of the Prairie Dog seem but
+a seething hell bursting with fiendins shouts, shot through with
+quivering arrows, shattered by bullets, rocked with the thunderous beat
+of horses' hoofs, trampling it into one great maelstrom of blood and
+dirt.
+
+All day, with neither food nor water, amid bewildering bluffs and
+gorges, alive with savage warriors, the cavalrymen had striven
+desperately. Night fell, and in the clear moonlight they forced their
+way across the Prairie Dog, and neither man nor horse dared to stop to
+drink because an instant's pause meant death.
+
+And the evening and the morning were the first day. And the second was
+like unto it, albeit we were no longer a triangle, made up of
+wagon-train here and main command there, and our twenty-nine--less two
+lost ones--under Captain Jenness, at a third point. Before noon, our
+force was all united and we joined hands for the finish.
+
+Beverly and I rode side by side all day. Everywhere around us the
+half-breed, Charlie Bent, dashed boldly on his big, white horse calling
+us cowardly dogs and taunting us with lack of marksmanship.
+
+"I'm getting tired of that fellow, Gail. I'll pick his horse out from
+under him pretty soon, see if I don't." My cousin called to me as
+Bent's insolent cry burst forth:
+
+"Come out, and let me show you how to shoot."
+
+Beverly leaped out toward the Indian horde surrounding Bent. He raised
+his carbine, and with steady aim, fired far across the field of battle,
+the cleanest shot I ever saw. Years ago my cousin had urged Uncle Esmond
+to let him practise shooting on horseback. He was a master of the art
+now. Charlie Bent's splendid white steed fell headlong, hurling its
+rider to the ground and dragging him, face downward, in the dirt.
+
+I cannot paint that day's deeds with my pen, nor ever artist lived whose
+brush could reproduce it. If we should lose here, it meant the turning
+of the clock from morning back to midnight on the Kansas plains.
+
+Between this and the safety of the prairies stood fewer than a hundred
+and fifty men, against a thousand warriors, led by cunning half-breeds
+skilled in the white man's language and the red man's fiendishness.
+
+If we should lose--We did not go out there to lose. When each man does a
+man's part there is no failure possible at last.
+
+As the sun sank toward late afternoon, the savage force massed for its
+great, crushing blow that should annihilate us. The strong center, made
+up of the flower of every tribe engaged, was on the crest of a long,
+westward-reaching slope, a splendid company of barbaric
+warriors--strong, eager, vengeful, doggedly determined to finish now
+the struggle with the power they hated.
+
+The air was very clear, and in its crystal distances we could see every
+movement and hear each command.
+
+The valley rang with the taunts and jeers and threats and mocking
+laughter of our foes, daring us to come out and meet them face to face,
+like men. And we went out and met them face to face, like men.
+
+A little force of soldiery fighting, not for ourselves, but for the
+hearthstones of a nobler people, our cavalry swung up that long, western
+slope in the face of a murderous fire, into the very heart of Cheyenne
+strength, enforced by all the iron of the allied tribes. I marvel at it
+now, when, in solid phalanx, our foes might easily have mowed us down
+like a thin line of standing grain; for their numbers seemed unending,
+while flight on flight of arrows and fierce sheets of rifle-fire swept
+our ranks as we rode on to death or victory. But each man's face among
+us there was bright with courage, and with our steady force unchecked we
+swept right on to the very crest of the high slope, scattering the
+enemy, at last, like wind-blown autumn leaves, until upon our guidons
+victory rested and the long day was won.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+GONE OUT
+
+
+    I wander alone at dead of night,
+    But ever before me I see a light,
+    In darkest hours more clear, more bright;
+      And the hope that I bear fails never.
+
+        FREDRICH RÃœCKERT.
+
+
+The waters of the Smoky Hill flowed yellow, flecked with foam, beside
+our camp, where, in a little grove of cottonwood trees, we rested from a
+long day's march. The heat of a late Kansas summer day was fanned away
+at twilight by the cool prairie breeze. There was an appealing something
+in the air that evening hour that made me homesick. So I went down
+beside the river to fight out my daily battle and let the wide spaces of
+the landscape soothe me, and all the opal tints of sunset skies and the
+soft radiance of a prairie twilight bring me their inspiration.
+
+Each day my heart-longing for the girl I must not love grew stronger. I
+wondered, as I sat here to-night, what trail would open for me when
+Beverly and Eloise should meet again, as lovers must meet some time. We
+had not once spoken her name between us, Bev and I, in all the days and
+nights since we had been in service on the plains.
+
+As I sat lonely, musing vaguely of a score of things that all ran back
+to one fair face, Beverly dropped down beside me. His face was grave and
+his eyes had a gentle, pleading look, something strange and different
+from the man whose moods I knew.
+
+"I'm homesick, Gail." He smiled as he spoke, and all the boy of all the
+years was in that smile.
+
+"So am I, Bev. It must be in the water here," I replied, lightly.
+
+But neither one misunderstood the other.
+
+"I'd like to see Little Lees to-night. Wouldn't you?" he asked,
+suddenly.
+
+The question startled me. Maybe my cousin wanted to confide in me here.
+I would not be selfish with him.
+
+"Yes, I always like to see her. Why to-night, though?" I asked,
+encouragingly.
+
+Beverly looked steadily into my face.
+
+"I want to tell you something, Gail. I haven't dared to speak before,
+but something tells me I should speak to-night," he said slowly.
+
+I looked away along the winding valley of the Smoky Hill. I must hear it
+some time. Why be a coward now?
+
+"Say on, I'm always ready to hear anything from you, Beverly."
+
+I tried to speak firmly, and I hoped my voice did not seem faltering to
+him. He sat silent a long while. Then he rose and straightened to his
+full height--a splendid form of strength and wholesomeness and grace.
+
+"I'll tell you some time soon, but not to-night. Honor is something with
+me yet."
+
+And so he left me.
+
+I dreamed of him that night with Eloise. And all of us were glad. I
+wakened suddenly. Beverly was standing near me. He turned and walked
+away, his upright form and gait, even in the faint light, individually
+Bev's own. I saw him lie down and draw his blanket about him, then sit
+up a moment, then nestle down again. Something went wrong with sleep and
+me for a long time, and once I called out, softly:
+
+"Bev, can't you sleep?"
+
+"Oh, shut up! Not if you fidget about me," he replied, with the old
+happy-go-lucky toss of the head and careless tone.
+
+It was dim dawn when I wakened. My cousin was sleeping calmly just a few
+feet away. An irresistible longing to speak to him overcame me and I
+slipped across and gently kicked the slumbering form. Two cavalry
+blankets rolled apart. A note pinned to the edge of one caught my eye. I
+stooped to read:
+
+     DEAR GAIL, Don't hate me. I'm sick of army life. They will call me
+     a coward and if they get me they will shoot me for a deserter. I
+     have disgraced the Clarenden name. You'll never see me again.
+     Good-bye, old boy.
+
+     BEV.
+
+Deserter!
+
+The yells of all the tribes in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+shrieked not so fiercely in my ears as that word rang now. And all the
+valley of the Smoky Hill echoed and re-echoed it.
+
+Deserter!
+
+My Beverly--who never told a lie, nor feared a danger, nor ever, except
+in self-defense, hurt a creature God had made. I could bury Bev, or
+stand beside him on his wedding-day. But Beverly disgraced! O, God of
+mercy toward all cowards, pity him!
+
+I sat down beside the blankets I had kicked apart and looked back over
+my cousin's life. It offered me no help. I thought of Eloise--and his
+longing to see her on the night before; of his struggle to tell me
+something. I knew now what that something was. Poor boy!
+
+He was not a boy, he was a man--strong, fearless, happy-hearted. How
+could the plains make cowards out of such as he? They had made a man of
+Jondo, who had all excuse to play the coward. The mystery of the human
+mind is a riddle past my reading--and I had always thought of Beverly's
+as an open book. The only one to whom I could turn now was not Eloise,
+nor my uncle, nor Mat nor Rex, but Jondo, John Doe, the nameless man,
+with whom Esmond Clarenden had walked all these years and for whose sake
+he had rescued Eloise St. Vrain. They had "toted together," as Aunty
+Boone had said. Oh, Aunty Boone with dull eyes of prophecy! I could hear
+her soft voice saying:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+She could not come "hot streaks" now, for Beverly had deserted. But
+there was Jondo.
+
+I wrote at once to him, inclosing the crumpled note, and then, as one
+who walks with neither sight nor feeling any more, I rode the plains and
+did a man's part in that Eighteenth Cavalry campaign of '67. The days
+went slowly by, bringing the long, bright autumn beauty to the plains
+and turning all the elms to gold along the creek at Burlingame. Time
+took away the sharp edge from our grief and shame, and left the dull
+pain that wears deeper and deeper, unnoticed by us; and all of us who
+had loved Beverly lived on and were cheerful for one another's sake.
+
+When Jondo--as only Jondo could--bore the news of my letter to Esmond
+Clarenden, he made no reply, but sat like an image of stone. Rex Krane
+broke down and sobbed as if his heart would break. But Mat, calm,
+poised, and always merciful, merely said:
+
+"We must wait awhile."
+
+It was many days before she broke the news to Eloise St. Vrain, who only
+smiled and said:
+
+"Gail is mistaken. Beverly couldn't desert."
+
+It was when the word came to Aunty Boone that the storm broke. They told
+me afterward that her face was terrible to see, and that her eyes grew
+dull and narrow. She went out to the bluff's edge and sat staring up the
+valley of the Kaw as if to see into the hidden record of the coming
+years.
+
+One October day, when the Kranes and Eloise sat with my uncle and Jondo
+in the soft afternoon air, looking out at the beauty of the Missouri
+bluffs, Aunty Boone loomed up before them suddenly.
+
+"I got somebody's fortune, just come clear before me," she declared, in
+her soft voice. "Lemme see you' hand, Little Lees!"
+
+Eloise put her shapely white hand upon the big, black paw.
+
+Aunty Boone patted it gently, the first and last caress she ever gave to
+any of us.
+
+"You' goin' to get a letter from a dark man. You' goin' to take a long
+journey. And somebody goin' with you. An' the one tellin' this is goin'
+away, jus' one more voyage to desset sands again, and see Africy and her
+own kingdom. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Never before, in all the years that we had known her, had she expressed
+a wish for her early home across he seas. Her voice trailed off weirdly,
+and she gazed at the Kaw Valley for a long moment. Then she said, in a
+low tone that thrilled her listeners with its vibrant power:
+
+"Bev ain't no deserter. He's gone out! Jus' gone out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She disappeared around the corner of the house and stood long in the
+little side porch where Beverly had kissed Little Blue Flower one night
+in the "Moon of the Peach-Blossom," and Eloise had found them there, and
+I had unwittingly heard what was said.
+
+"Is there no variation in palmistry?" Rex Krane asked. "I never knew a
+gypsy in all my life who read a different set of prophecies. It's always
+the dark man--I'm light (darn the luck)--and a journey and a letter. But
+I thought maybe an African seer, a sort of Voodo, hoodoo, bugaboo, would
+have it a light man and a legacy and company coming, instead of you
+taking a journey, Eloise."
+
+Eloise smiled.
+
+"You musn't envy me my good fortune, Rex," she declared. "Aunty Boone
+says she is going back to Africa, too. You'll need a new cook, Uncle
+Esmond. Let me apply for the place right now."
+
+My uncle smiled affectionately on her.
+
+"I could give you a trial, as I gave her. I remember I told her if she
+could cook good meals I'd keep her; if not, she'd leave. Do you want to
+take the risk?"
+
+"That's where you'll get your journey of the prophecy, Eloise," Jondo
+suggested.
+
+"Well, you leave out the best part of it all," Mat broke in. "She added
+that Beverly isn't a deserter, he's just 'gone out.' Why don't you
+believe it all, serious or frivolous?"
+
+A shadow lifted from the faces there as a glimpse of hope came slowly
+in.
+
+"And as to letters, Eloise," Uncle Esmond said, "I must beg your pardon.
+I have one here for you that I had forgotten. It came this morning."
+
+"See if it isn't from a dark man, inviting you to take a journey," Rex
+suggested.
+
+"It must be, it's from Santa Fé," Eloise said, opening the letter
+eagerly.
+
+Aunty Boone had come back again and was standing by the corner of the
+veranda, half hidden by vines, watching Eloise with steady eyes. The
+girl's face grew pale, then deadly white, and her big, dark eyes were
+opened wide as she dropped the letter and looked at the faces about her.
+
+"It is from Father Josef," she gasped. "He writes of Little Blue Flower
+somewhere in Hopi-land. He asks me to go to Santa Fé at once for her
+sake. And it says, too--" The voice faltered and Eloise turned to Esmond
+Clarenden. "It says that Beverly is there somewhere and he wants you.
+Read it, Uncle Esmond."
+
+As Eloise rose and laid the letter in my uncle's hand, Aunty Boone,
+hidden by the vines, muttered in her soft, strange tone:
+
+"He's jus' gone out. Thank Jupiter! He's jus' gone out. I'm goin', hot
+streaks, to help him, too. Then I go to my own desset where I'm honin' o
+to be, an' stay there till the judgment Day. Whoo-ee!"
+
+In the early morning of a rare October day upon the plains I sat on my
+cavalry horse beside Fort Hays, waiting for one last word from my
+superior officer, Colonel Moore. He was my uncle's friend, and he had
+been kind to the Clarenden boys, as military kindness runs.
+
+"You are honorably discharged," he said. "Take these letters to Fort
+Dodge. You will meet your friends there, and have some safeguard from
+there on, by order of General Sheridan. God bless you, Gail. You have
+ridden well. I wish you a safe journey, and I hope you'll find your
+cousin soon. He was a splendid boy until this happened. He may be
+cleared some day."
+
+"He is splendid still to me in spite of everything," I replied.
+
+"Yes, yes," my colonel responded. "Never a Clarenden disgraced the name
+before. That is why General Sheridan is granting you a squad to help
+you. It is a great thing to have a good name. Good-by."
+
+"Good-by. I thank you a thousand times," I said, saluting him.
+
+"And I thank you. A chain, you know, is as strong as its weakest link. A
+cavalry troop is as able as its soldiers make it."
+
+He turned his horse about, and I rode off alone across the lonely plains
+a hundred miles away toward old Fort Dodge, beside the Arkansas River.
+Jondo and Rex were to meet me there for one more trip on the long Santa
+Fé Trail.
+
+
+Late September rains had blessed the valley of the Arkansas. The level
+land about Fort Dodge showed vividly green against the yellow sand-hills
+across the river, and the brown, barren bluffs westward, where a little
+city would one day rise in pretty picturesqueness. The scene was like
+the Garden of Eden to my eyes when I broke through the rough ridges to
+the north on the last lap of my long ride thither and hurried down to
+the fort. I grant I did not appear like one who had a right to enter
+Eden, for I was as brown as a Malayan. Nearly four months of hard
+riding, sleeping on the ground, with a sky-cover, eating buffalo meat,
+and drinking the dregs of slow-drying pools, had made a plainsman of me,
+of the breed that long since disappeared. Golf-sticks and automobile
+steering-wheels are held by hands to-day no less courageous than those
+that swung the carbine into place, and flung aside the cavalry
+bridle-rein in a wild onslaught in our epic day. Each age grows men,
+flanked by the coward and the reckless daredevil.
+
+Rex Krane was first to recognize me when I reached the fort.
+
+"Oh, we are all here but Mat: Clarenden, Jondo, Aunty Boone, and Little
+Lees; and a squad of half a dozen cavalry men are ready to go with us."
+Rex drawled in his old Yankee fashion, hiding an aching heart underneath
+his jovial greeting.
+
+"All of us!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes. Here they all come!" Rex retorted.
+
+They all came, but I saw only one, veiling the joy in my eyes as best I
+could. For with the face of Eloise before me, I knew the hardest battle
+of my life was calling me to colors. I had forgotten how womanly she
+was, or else her summer by the blessed prairies that lap up to the edge
+of the quiet town of Burlingame had brought her peace and helped her to
+put away sad memories of her mother.
+
+Behind her--a black background for her fair, golden head--was Aunty
+Boone.
+
+"Our girl was called to Santa Fé, and Daniel here goes with her. I
+couldn't stay behind, of course," my uncle said. "The Comanches are
+making trouble all along the Cimarron, and we will go up the Arkansas by
+the old trail route. It is farther, but the soldiers say much safer
+right now, and maybe just as quick for us. There is no load of freight
+to hinder us--two wagons and our mounts. Besides, the cavalrymen have
+some matters to look after near the mountains, or we might not have had
+their protection granted us."
+
+The beauty of that early autumn on the plains and mountains lingers in
+my memory still, though half a century has passed since that journey on
+the old, long trail to Santa Fé.
+
+At the closing of an Indian summer day we pitched our camp outside the
+broken walls of old Fort Bent. Every day found me near Eloise, although
+the same barrier was between us that had risen up the day she left me in
+the ruined chapel by the San Christobal River. Every day I longed to
+tell her what Beverly had said to me the night he--went out. It was due
+her that she should know how tenderly he had thought of her.
+
+The night was irresistible, soft and balmy for the time of year, as that
+night had been long ago when we children were marooned inside this
+stronghold. A thin, growing moon hung in the crystal heavens and all
+the shadowy places were softened with gray tones. Jondo and Uncle Esmond
+and Rex Krane were talking together. Aunty Boone was clearing up after
+the evening meal. The soldiers were about their tasks or pastimes. Only
+Eloise and I were left beside the camp-fire.
+
+"Let's go and find the place where we spent our last evening here,
+Little Lees," I said, determined to-night to tell her of Beverly.
+
+"And just as many other places as we can remember," Eloise replied.
+
+We clambered over heaps of fallen stone in the wide doorway, and stood
+inside the half-roofless ruin that had been a stronghold at the
+wilderness crossroads.
+
+The outer walls were broken here and there. The wearing elements were
+slowly separating the inner walls and sagging roofs. Heaps of debris lay
+scattered about. Over the caving well the well-sweep stuck awry, marking
+a place of danger. Everywhere was desolation and slow destruction.
+
+We sat down on some fallen timbers in the old court and looked about us.
+
+"It was a pity that Colonel Bent should have blown up this splendid
+fortress, and all because the Government wouldn't pay him his price for
+it," I declared.
+
+"Destroyed what he had built so carefully, and what was so useful,"
+Eloise commented. "Sometimes we wreck our lives in the same way."
+
+I have said the twilight seemed to fit her best, although at all times
+she was fair. But to-night she was a picture in her traveling dress of
+golden brown, with soft, white folds about her throat. I wondered if she
+thought of Beverly as she spoke. It hurt me so to be harsh with his
+memory.
+
+"Yes, Charlie Bent blew up all that the Colonel built into him, of
+education and the ways of cultured folks--a leader of a Dog Indian band,
+he is a piece of manhood wrecked. And by the way," I went on, "Beverly
+shot his beautiful white horse on the Prairie Dog Creek. You should have
+seen that shot. It was the cleanest piece of long-range marksmanship I
+ever saw. He hated Bev for that."
+
+"Maybe he gloats over our lost Beverly to-day. He is only 'gone out' to
+me," Eloise said softly.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Little Lees. Beverly and I never spoke of
+you--you can guess why--until that last night beside the Smoky Hill. He
+wanted to tell me something that night."
+
+"And did he?" Eloise asked, eagerly.
+
+"No. He said honor was something with him still. I thought he meant to
+tell me of himself and you. Forgive me. I do not want any confidences
+not freely given. But now I know it was the struggle in which he went
+down that night that he wanted to tell me about. He said first, 'I'm
+homesick. I'd like to see Little Lees.' And his eyes were full of
+sympathy as he looked at me."
+
+"Did he say anything more?" Eloise's voice was almost a whisper.
+
+"That was all. I thought that night I should hunt a lonely trail--when
+he went home to claim--happiness. But now I feel that I could live
+beside him always--to have him safe with us again."
+
+As I turned to look at Eloise something was in her big, dark
+eyes--something that disappeared at once. I caught only a fleeting
+glimpse of it, and I could not understand why a thrill of something near
+to happiness should sweep through me. It was but the shadow of what
+might have been for me and was not.
+
+"Do you recall our prophecies here that night when we were children?"
+Eloise asked.
+
+"Yes, every one. Mat wanted a home, Bev to fight the Indians, and you
+wanted me to keep Marcos Ramero in his place. I tried to do it," I
+replied.
+
+And both of us recalled, but did not speak of, the warm, childish kiss
+of Little Lees upon my lips, and how we gripped hands in the shadows
+when the moon went cold and grey. Life was so simple then.
+
+"It may be, if our problems and our tragedies crowd into our younger
+years, they clear the way for all the bright, unclouded years to
+follow," Eloise said, as we rose to go back to the camp-fire.
+
+"I hope they will leave us strong to meet the bright, unclouded years,"
+I answered her.
+
+On the next day the cavalrymen left us for a time, and we went on alone
+southward toward our journey's end.
+
+Autumn on the mountain slopes, and in the mesa-girdled valleys of New
+Mexico hung rainbow-tinted lights by day, with star-beam pointed paths
+trailing across the blue night-sky. And all the rugged beauty of a
+picturesque land, basking in lazy warmth, out-breathing sweet, pure air,
+made the old trail to Santa Fé an enchanting highway to me, despite the
+burden of a grief that weighed me down. For I could not shut from my
+mind the pitiful call of Little Blue Flower that had come to Eloise, nor
+all the uncertainty surrounding my cousin somewhere in the Southwest
+wanting us.
+
+The little city of adobe walls seemed not to have changed a hair's turn
+in the six years since I had seen it last. Out beyond the sandy arroyo
+again Father Josef waited for us. The same strong face and dark eyes,
+full of fire, the same erect form and manly bearing were his. Except for
+a few streaks of gray in his close-cropped hair the years had wrought no
+change in him, save that his countenance betokened the greater
+benediction of a godly life upon it. As we rode slowly to the door of
+San Miguel I fell behind. The years since that day when the saucy little
+girl had called me a big, brown, bob-cat here came back upon my mind,
+and, though my hope had vanished, still I loved the old church.
+
+Before we had passed the doorway Eloise left her wagon and stood beside
+my horse.
+
+"Gail, let us stop here with Father Josef while the others go down to
+Felix Narveo's. It always seems so peaceful here."
+
+"You are always welcome here, my children," Father Josef said,
+graciously, as I leaped from my horse and stuck its lariat pin down
+beside the doorway.
+
+Inside there were the same soft lights from the high windows, the same
+rare old paintings about the altar, the same seat beside the door.
+
+The priest spoke to us in low tones befitting sanctuary stillness. "You
+have come on a long journey, but it is one of mercy. I only pray you do
+not come too late," he said.
+
+"Tell us about it, Father," Eloise urged. "The men will get the story
+from Felix Narveo, but Gail and I seem to belong up here." She smiled up
+at me with the words.
+
+I could have almost hoped anew just then, but for the thought of
+Beverly.
+
+"Let us pray first," the holy man replied.
+
+Beverly and I had been confirmed in the Episcopalian faith once long
+ago, but the plains were hard on the religion of a high-church man. And
+yet, all sacred forms are beautiful to me, and I always knew what
+reverence means.
+
+"You may not know," Father Josef said, "that I have Indian blood in my
+veins--a Hopi strain from some French ancestors. Po-a-be, our Little
+Blue Flower, is my heathen cousin, descended from the same chief's
+daughter. The Hopi's faith is a part of him, like his hand or eye, and I
+have never gained much with the tribe save through blood-ties. But
+because of that I have their confidence."
+
+"You have all men's confidence, Father Josef," I said, warmly.
+
+"Thank you, my son," the priest replied. "When Santan, the Apache, came
+back from a long raid eastward, he told Little Blue Flower that Beverly
+had spared his life beside a poisoned spring in the Cimarron valley,
+urging him to go back and marry her; life had other interests now to
+white men who must forget all about Indian girls, he declared, and with
+Apache adroitness he pressed his claims upon her. But Santan had slain
+Sister Anita beside the San Christobal Arroyo. A murderer is abhorrent
+to a Hopi, who never takes life, save in self-defense or in legitimate
+warfare--if warfare ever is legitimate," he added, gravely.
+
+"My little cousin was heart-broken, for all the years since her rescue
+at Pawnee Rock she had cherished one face in memory; and maybe Beverly
+in his happy, careless way had given her cause to do so."
+
+"We understand, I think," Eloise said, turning inquiringly to me.
+
+I nodded, and Father Josef went on. "She knew her love was foolish, but
+few of us are always wise in love. So Santan's suit seemed promising for
+a time. But the Hopi type ran true in her, and she put off the Apache
+year after year. It is a strange case in Indian romance, but romance
+everywhere is strange enough. The Apache type also ran true to dogged
+purpose. Besides being an Apache, Santan has some Ramero blood in his
+veins, to be accounted for in the persistence of an evil will. He was
+as determined to win Po-a-be as she that he should fail. And he was
+cunning in his schemes."
+
+Father Josef paused and looked at Eloise.
+
+"To make the story short," he began again, "Santan could not make the
+Hopi woman hate Beverly, although she knew that her love was hopeless,
+as it should be. Pardon me, daughter," Father Josef said, gently. "She
+heard you two talking in a little porch one night at the Clarenden home,
+and she has believed ever since that you are lovers. That is why she
+sent for you to come to help her now."
+
+"I saw Beverly give Little Blue Flower a brotherly kiss that night, and
+I told him, frankly, how it grieved me, because I had known at St. Ann's
+about her love for him. I had urged her to go with me to the
+Clarendens', hoping that when she saw Beverly again she would quit
+dreaming of him."
+
+I looked away, at the paintings and the crucifix above the altar, and
+the long shafts of light on gray adobe walls, wondering, vaguely, what
+the next act of this drama might reveal.
+
+"Beverly was always lovable," Father Josef said. "But now the message
+comes that he is out in the heart of Hopi-land, and because Little Blue
+Flower is protecting him her people may turn against her. For Beverly's
+sake, and for her sake, too, my daughter, we must start at once to find
+her and maybe save his life. She wants you. It is the call of
+sisterhood. Sister Gloria and I will go with you. I have much influence
+with my Hopi people."
+
+"Will they put Beverly to death?" I asked.
+
+"I cannot tell, but--see how long the arm of hate can be, my
+son--Santan, the Apache, has been informed of Beverly's coming by Marcos
+Ramero, gambler and debauchee. And Marcos got it in some way from
+Charlie Bent, a Cheyenne half-breed, son of old Colonel Bent, a fine old
+gentleman. Maybe you knew young Bent?"
+
+"Yes, he holds a grudge against the Clarenden name because we made him
+play square with us at the old fort when we were children," I told the
+priest. "He yelled defiance at us in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+last August. Bev shot his horse from under him just to humble the
+insolent dog! Beverly never was a coward," I insisted, all my affection
+for my cousin overwhelming me.
+
+"This makes it clearer," Father Josef said. "Through Bent to Ramero and
+Ramero to Santan, the word went, somehow. The Apache has gathered up a
+band of the worst of his breed and they are moving against the Hopis to
+get Beverly. You and Jondo and Clarenden and Krane will join the little
+squad of cavalry you left up in the mountains, and turn the Apache back,
+and all of us must start at once, or we may be too late. May heaven
+bless our hands and make them strong."
+
+We bowed in reverence for a moment. When we hurried from the dim church
+into the warm October sunlight, Aunty Boone sat on the door-step beside
+my horse.
+
+"'He's jus' gone out,' I told 'em so, back there on the Missouri River.
+He's gone out an' I'm goin', hot streaks, to find him, Little Lees.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+     And though there's never a grave to tell,
+     Nor a cross to mark his fall,
+     Thank God! we know that he "batted well"
+     In the last great Game of all.
+
+         --SERVICE.
+
+
+We left Santa Fé within an hour, and struck out toward the unknown land
+where Beverly Clarenden, in the midst of uncertain friends, was being
+hunted down by an Apache band. As our little company passed out on the
+trail toward Agua Fria, I recalled the day when we had gone with Rex
+Krane to this little village beside the Santa Fé River. Eloise and
+Father Josef and Santan and Little Blue Flower were all there that day;
+and Jondo, although we did not know it then. Rex Krane had told Beverly,
+going out, that an Indian never forgets. In all the years Santan had not
+forgotten.
+
+To-day we covered the miles rapidly. Jondo and Father Josef rode ahead,
+with Esmond Clarenden and Felix Narveo following them; then came Eloise
+St. Vrain with Sister Gloria; behind them, Aunty Boone, with Rex and
+myself bringing up the rear. Three pack-mules bearing our equipment
+went tramping after us with bobbing ears and sturdy gait.
+
+I looked down the line of our little company ahead. The four men in the
+lead were college chums once, and all of them had loved the mother of
+the girl behind them. I have said the girl looked best by twilight. I
+had not seen her in a coarse-gray riding-dress when I said that. I had
+seen her when she needed protection from her enemies. I had not seen her
+until to-day, going out to meet hardship fearlessly, for the sake of one
+who wanted her--only an Indian maiden, but a faithful friend. In the
+plainest face self-forgetfulness puts a beauty all its own. That beauty
+shone resplendent now in the beautiful face of Mary Marchland's
+daughter.
+
+The world can change wonderfully in sixty minutes. As we rode out toward
+the Rio Grande, the yellow sands, the gray gramma grass, the purple
+sage, the tall green cliffs, and, high above, the gleaming snow-crowned
+peaks, took on a beauty never worn for me before. Why should a hope
+spring up within me that would die as other hopes had died? But back of
+all my thought was the longing to help Beverly, and a faith in Aunty
+Boone's weird, prophetic grip on things unseen. He had just "gone out"
+to her--why not to all of us? I could not understand Little Blue
+Flower's part in this tragedy, so I let it alone.
+
+A day out from Santa Fé we were joined by the little squad of cavalrymen
+with whom we had parted company back at the Fort Bent camping-place.
+With these we had little cause to dread personal danger. The Apache band
+was a small, vicious gang that could do much harm to the Hopis, but it
+seemed nothing for us to fear.
+
+Our care was to reach Beverly before the Hopis should rise up against
+Little Blue Flower, or the band led by Santan should fall upon them.
+Father Josef had sent a runner on to tell them of our coming and to warn
+them of the Apache raid. But runners sometimes come to grief.
+
+It is easy enough now to sleep most of the hours away across the and
+lands that lie between the Rockies and the Coast Range mountains, where
+the great "through limiteds," swinging down their long trail of steel,
+sweep farther in one day than we crept in two long, weary weeks in that
+October fifty years ago. Only Father Josef's unerring Indian accuracy
+brought us through.
+
+We crawled up rugged mountain trails and skirted the rims of dizzy
+chasms; we wound through cañons, with only narrow streams for paths,
+between sheer walls of rock; we pitched our camp at the bases of great,
+red sand stone mesas, barren of life; we followed long, yellow ways over
+stretches of unending plain; we wandered in the painted-desert lands,
+where all the colors God has made bewilder with their beauty, in the
+barest, dreariest, most unlovely bit of unfinished world that our great
+continent holds; the lands forgotten, maybe, when, in Creation's busy
+week, the evening and the morning were the sixth day, and the Great
+Builder looked on His work and called it good.
+
+We found the Hopi trails, but not the Hopi clan that we were seeking. We
+found Apache trails behind them, but only dimly marked, as if they blew
+one moccasin track full of sand before they made another.
+
+The October days were dreams of loveliness, and dawn and sunset on the
+desert were indescribably beautiful. But the nights were bitterly cold.
+Eloise and Sister Gloria were native to the Southwest and they knew how
+to dress warmly for it. Aunty Boone had never felt such chilling night
+breezes, but not one word of complaint came from her lips in all that
+journey.
+
+One night we gathered into camp beneath the shelter of a little butte.
+We had overtaken Father Josef's Indian runner an hour before. He had not
+found the Hopis yet, and so we held a council.
+
+"The Hopi is ahead of us northwest," the Indian declared.
+
+"Is the Apache following?" Jondo asked.
+
+The runner nodded. "They have been pursued, but they have slipped away;
+the Apache goes north, they turn north-west. They take the dry lands and
+the pine forests beyond; their last chance. If they hold out till the
+Apache leaves, they will return safely. You follow them, wait for them,
+or go back without them. It is your choice."
+
+We turned toward the three women, one in the bloom of her young
+womanhood, one with the patient endurance of the nun, one black and
+strong and always unafraid.
+
+"I do not want to leave Little Blue Flower in her hour of peril," Eloise
+said.
+
+"I can go where I am needed," Sister Gloria declared.
+
+"This is my land, I never know Africa was right out here. I thought they
+was oceans on both sides of it. I go where Bev's gone out an then I come
+here and stay. Whoo-ee!"
+
+We smiled at her mistaken dream of her far African home, and, cheering
+one another on, when morning came we moved northwest.
+
+Jondo rode beside me all that day, and we talked of many things.
+
+"Gail," he said, "Aunty Boone is right. This is her Africa. I don't
+believe she will ever leave it."
+
+"She can't stay here, Jondo," I replied.
+
+"She will, though. You will see. Did she ever fail to have her way?"
+
+"No. She is a type of her own, never to be reproduced, but like a great
+dog in her faithful loyalty," I declared.
+
+"And shrewder than most men," Jondo went on. "She supplied the lost link
+with Santan for me last night. Years ago, when Little Blue Flower
+brought me a message from Father Josef on the morning that we took
+Eloise from Santa Fé, I caught a glimpse of the Apache across the plaza
+and read the message--_'trust the bearer anywhere'_--to mean that boy.
+Aunty Boone had just peered out and scared the little girl away. She
+told me all about it last night, when she was bewailing Beverly's hard
+fate. How small a thing can open the road to a big tragedy. I trusted
+that whelp till that day at San Christobal."
+
+"I hope we will finish this soon," I said. "I don't understand Beverly
+at all and I marvel at Little Blue Flower's love for him. Don't you?"
+
+Jondo looked up with a pathos in his dark-blue eyes.
+
+"Don't hurry, Gail. The trails all end somewhere soon. Life is a
+stranger thing from day to day, but the one thing that no man will ever
+fully understand is a woman's love for man. There is only one thing
+higher, and that is mother-love."
+
+"The kind that you and Uncle Esmond have," I said.
+
+"Oh, I am only a man, but Clarenden has a woman's heart, as you and
+Beverly and my sister's child all know."
+
+"Your sister's child?" I gasped.
+
+"Yes. When her parents went with yellow fever, too, I could not adopt
+Mat--you know why. Clarenden did it for me. She has always known that I
+am her uncle, but Mat was always a self-contained child."
+
+I loved Mat more than ever from that hour.
+
+The next day our trail ran into pine forests, where tall, shapely trees
+point skyward. Not a dense woodland, but a seemingly endless one. Snows
+lay in the darker places, and here and there streams trickled out into
+the sunlight, whose only sources were these melting snows. It was a
+land of silence and loneliness--a land forgotten or unknown to record.
+The Hopi trail was stronger here and we followed it eagerly, but night
+overtook us early in the forest.
+
+That evening we gathered about a huge fire of pine boughs beneath a low
+stone ridge covered with evergreen trees that sheltered us warmly from
+the sharp west winds. We heard the cries of night-roving beasts, and in
+the darkness, now and then, a pair of gleaming eyes, seen for an
+instant, and then the rush of feet, told us that some wild creature had
+looked for the first time on fire.
+
+"To-morrow night will see our journey's end," Jondo declared. "The Hopi
+can't be far away, and I'm sure they are safe yet, and we shall reach
+them before the Apache does."
+
+The Indian runner's face did not change its blankness, but I felt that
+he doubted Jondo's judgment. That night he slipped away and we never saw
+him again.
+
+We were all hopeful that night, and hopeful the next morning when we
+broke camp early. A trail we had not seen the night before ran up the
+low ridge to the west of us. Eloise and I followed it up a little way,
+riding abreast. The ridge really was a narrow, rocky tableland, and
+beyond it was another higher slope, up which the same trail ran. The
+trees were growing smaller and the sky flowed broad and blue above their
+tops. The ground was only rock, with a thin veneer of soil here and
+there. Gnarled, stunted cedars and gray, twisted cypress clung for a
+roothold to these barren ledges. The morning breeze swept, sharp and
+invigorating, out of a broad open space beyond the edge of this rocky
+woodland height. Eloise and I pushed on a little farther, leaving the
+others still on the narrow shelf above our camping-place.
+
+Suddenly, as we rode out of the closer timber to where the scattered
+growths were hardly higher than our heads, the first heaven and the
+first earth seemed to pass away--not in irreverence I write it--and we
+stood face to face with a new heaven and a new earth--where, in the
+Grand Cañon of the Colorado River, the sublimity of the Almighty
+Builder's beauty and omnipotence was voiced in one stupendous Word,
+wrought in enduring color in everlasting stone. Cleaving its way
+westward to some far-off sea, a wide abyss, a dozen miles across from
+lip to lip, yawned down to the very vitals of the earth. We stood upon
+the rim of it--a sheer cliff that dropped a thousand feet of solid
+limestone, in one plummet line, to other cliffs below, that dropped
+again through furlongs of black gneiss, red sandstone, and gray granite.
+
+Beyond this mighty chasm great forest trees were, to our eyes, only as
+weeds along its rim. Between that rim and ours we could look down upon
+high mountain buttes and sloping red tablelands, and dizzy gorges with
+pinnacled walls and towers and domes--vast forms no pen will ever
+picture--not hurled in wild confusion by titan fury, but symmetrical and
+purposeful and calm.
+
+Through slowly crawling millions of patiently wearing years, while stars
+grew old and perished from the firmament, with cloud, and frost, and
+wind, and water, and sharp cutting sands, these strata of the old
+earth's crust were chiseled into gigantic outlines, and all the
+worn-down, crumbled atoms of debris were swept through long, tortuous
+leagues of distance toward the sea by a mad river swirling through the
+lowest depths. A mile straight down, as the crow never flies here, it
+rushes, but to us the river was a mere creek, seen only where the lower
+gorges open to the channel.
+
+In the early light of that October morning the weird, vast shapes that
+filled, the abyss were bathed in a bewildering opulence of color. Pale
+gold along the farther rim, with pink and amber, blue and gray, and
+heliotrope and rose--all blending softly, tone on tone. Deeper, the
+heart of every rift and chasm that flows into the one stupendous
+mother-rift was full of purple shadows. Not the thin lavender of the
+upper world where we must live, but tensely, richly regal, beyond words
+to paint; with silvery mists above, soft, filmy veils that draped the
+jutting rocks and rounded each harsh edge, melting pink to rose and gray
+to violet. Eternal silence brooded over all this symbol, wrought in
+visible form, of His Almightiness, to whom a thousand years are as a
+day, and in the hollow of whose hand He holds the universe. Measureless,
+motionless, voiceless, it seemed as if all the cañons of all the
+mountains of our great contienent might have given to it here
+their awful depth and height and rugged strength; their picturesqueness,
+color, graceful outlines, dizzy steeps and awe-inspiring lengths and
+breadths. And fusing all these into itself, height on height, and
+breadth on breadth, entrancing charm on charm, with all the hues that
+the Great Alchemist can throw from His vast prism, it seemed to say:
+
+"'Twas only in a vision that St. John saw the four-square city whose
+twelve gates are each a single pearl! whose walls are builded on
+foundation stones of jasper, sapphire, and chalcedony, emerald and
+topaz, chrysolite and amethyst; whose streets are of pure gold, like
+unto clear glass; whose light is ever like unto a stone most precious.
+
+"To you who may not dream the vision beautiful, the Mighty Maker of all
+things sublime has given me a token here in finite stone and earthly
+coloring of that undreamed sublimity of all things omnipotent."
+
+My companion and I sat on our horses speechless, gazing down at this
+overwhelming marvel below us. We forgot ourselves, each other, our
+companions of the journey, its purpose, Beverly, and his enemy Santan,
+the desert, the brown plains, green prairies, rivers, mountains, the
+earth itself, as we stood there in the shadow of the Infinite.
+
+At last we turned and looked into each other's eyes for one long moment.
+In its space we read the old, old story through, and a great,
+up-leaping joy illumined our faces. God, who had let us know each
+other, had let us stand by _this_ to feel the barrier of
+misunderstanding fall away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A sound of horses' hoofs on the rocky slope below us, a weird Indian
+call, and a great shout from our calverymen drew us to earth
+again. The Hopis were coming. Father Josef knew the signal. Our Indian
+runner had found them in the night and sent them toward us. We dashed
+into the forest, keeping close together; and here, a mile away, under
+green pines, surrounded by a little group of a desert Hopi clan, was
+Beverly Clarenden--big, strong, unhurt and joyful. And Little Blue
+Flower.
+
+The years since that far night when I had seen two maidens in Grecian
+robes beside the Flat Rock in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom," had left
+no trace on Eloise St. Vrain, save to imprint the graces of womanliness
+on her girlish face. But the picturesque Indian maiden of that night
+looked aged and sorrowful in the pine forest of her native land, bent,
+as she was, with the dull existence of her own people; she, who had
+known and loved a different form of life. Only the big, luminous eyes
+held their old charm.
+
+We came together in a little open space with pine-trees all about us.
+The minutes went swiftly then--and I must hurry to what came hurrying
+on, for much of it is lost in mist and wonder.
+
+In the moment of glad reunion Aunty Boone suddenly gave a whoop the
+like of which I had never heard before, and, dashing wildly toward
+Eloise and Sister Gloria, she drove them in a fierce charge straight
+back into the shelter of the pine-trees.
+
+At the same time a sudden rain of bullets, like a swift hail-storm, and
+a yell--the Apache cry of vengeance--filled the air. Long afterward we
+learned that our Indian runner had met this band and tried to turn it
+back--and failed. He would have saved us if he could.
+
+It was over soon--that encounter in the forest where each tree was a
+shield. The cavalrymen and maybe, too, we who had been plainsmen, knew
+how to drive back a villianous handful of Apaches. In any other
+moment since we had ridden out of Sante Fé we would have laughed
+at such a struggle. They took us in the most unguarded instant of that
+fortnight's journey.
+
+The Hopis fled wildly out of sight. Here and there, from the defeated,
+scattered band, an Apache warrior sprang back and lost himself quickly
+in the shadows. But Santan, plunging into our very midst, seized Little
+Blue Flower in his iron grip, and the bullet from a cavalry carbine,
+meant for him, struck her.
+
+He laughed and threw her back and, whirling, dashed--into the arms of
+Aunty Boone--and stopped.
+
+We carried our wounded tenderly up the steep wooded slope and out into
+the sweet sunlight of its crest, where we laid them down beside that
+wondrous rift with its shimmering mist and velvet shadows, and colorings
+of splendor, folded all in the magnificence of its immensity and its
+eternal silence.
+
+We knew that Jondo's wound was mortal, and Father Josef and Eloise and
+Rex Krane sat beside him, as the brave eyes looked out across the
+sublimity of earthly beauty toward the far land no eye hath seen,
+facing, unafraid, the outward-leading trail.
+
+But Beverly was in the prime of young manhood, and we felt sure of him,
+as Esmond Clarenden and Sister Gloria; and I ministered to his wants.
+
+"It's no use, Gail." My cousin lifted a pleading face to mine a moment,
+as on that day, years ago on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. Then
+the bright smile came back to stay.
+
+"Why, Bev, you have a life before you, and you aren't the only
+Eighteenth Kansas man who deserted. We can pull you through somehow--and
+people will forget. Even General Sheridan was willing to send a squad
+with us, on the possibility of a mistake somewhere."
+
+"Deserted!" Beverly's voice was too strong for a dying man's. "Uncle
+Esmond, Jondo, Eloise--all of you--Gail calls me a deserter. Me! Knock
+him over that precipice, won't some of you?"
+
+We listened eagerly as he went on:
+
+"Why, don't you know that Charlie Bent and his renegade dogs crawled
+into camp like snakes and carried me out by force. They had a time of
+it, too, but never mind. Bent told me he left a note for you. I supposed
+he would say I was dead. And when Gail stirred, half awake, he went
+pacing around the camp, looking so near like me I thought it was myself
+and I was Charlie Bent. I was roped and gagged then, but I could see.
+Deserter! I'm glad I got that white horse of his on the Prairie Dog
+Creek, anyhow."
+
+Beverly's face paled suddenly and he lay still a little while.
+
+"I'd better hurry." The smile was winsome. "They didn't give me a ghost
+of a chance to escape, but they didn't harm a hair. They kept me for a
+meaner purpose, and, well, I was landed, finally, at Santan's door-step
+in the Apache-land. Santan offered to let me go free if I'd persuade
+Little Blue Flower--dead down there--to marry him. He had her come to me
+on pretense of my sending for her. She hated the brute, and she was a
+woman, if she was an Indian. I told him I'd see him in hell first, and I
+told her never to give in. Poor girl! It was a cruel test, but Santan
+knew how to be cruel. He said he'd fix me, and I guess he has done it."
+
+"Oh no, Bev. You are good for a century," I declared, affectionately,
+holding his head on my knee.
+
+"Little Blue Flower managed, somehow, to fool the Apache dog, and we
+escaped and got away to her people," Beverly continued, speaking more
+slowly, "then she sent word to Father Josef. But the Hopi folks were
+scared about the Apaches coming against them on account of harboring
+me, like a Jonah, among 'em; and they were going to make it hard for
+Little Blue Flower. I don't know heathen ethics in such things, but a
+handful of us had to cut for it. I'm no deserter, though. Don't forget
+that. As soon as I could be sure the little Indian woman's life was safe
+I was going to get away and come home. I could not leave her to be
+sacrificed after she had saved me from Santan's scalping-knife."
+
+Beverly paused and looked at us. His voice seemed weaker when he spoke
+again:
+
+"I thought, sometimes, that even if I wasn't to blame for it, I ought to
+take Little Blue Flower with me when I got away. Dear little girl! she
+gave me one smile and whispered _'Lolomi'_ before she went just now. I
+told her long ago I was just everybody's friend. I never meant to spoil
+anybody's life, and I can meet her down at the end of the trail and
+never fear."
+
+Just then a half-wailing, half-purring cry came from Aunty Boone, who
+was standing beside a gnarled cypress-tree.
+
+"I knowed the morning we picked up Little Blue Flower, back at Pawnee
+Rock, we was pickin' up trouble for the rest of the trail. I see it
+then. You can trust a nigger 'cause they never no 'count, but you don't
+know what you gettin' when you trust an Indian. But, Cla'nden, that
+Apache Indian, Santan, ain't goin' to trouble you no more. When the
+world ain't no fit place for folks they needs helpin' out of it, and I
+sees to it they gets it, too. Whoo-ee!" She paused and leaned against
+the crooked cypress. Half turning her face toward us, she continued in a
+clear, soft voice:
+
+"That man they call Ramero down in Santy Fee--I knowed him when he was
+just Fred Ramer back in the rice-fields country. His father, old man
+Ramer, tried to kill me once, 'cause he said I knowed too much. I helped
+him into kingdom come right then and saved a lot of misery. They blamed
+some other folks, I guess, but they never hunted me up at all. Good-by,
+Clan'den, and you, too, Felix, and Dick Verra. I've knowed you all these
+years, but nobody takes no 'count of niggers' knowin's. Good-by, Little
+Lees, and all you boys. I'll see you again pretty soon, I'm goin' back
+to my desset now. It's over yonder just a little way. Jondo--but you
+won't be John Doe then. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Aunty Boone slowly settled down beside the cypress, with her face toward
+her beloved "desset," and when we went to her a little later, her eyes,
+still looking eastward, saw nothing earthly any more forever.
+
+Jondo's face seemed glorified as he caught Aunty Boone's last words, and
+his voice was sweet and clear as he looked up at Eloise bending over
+him.
+
+"Thank God! It is all made right at last. Eloise, the charge of murder
+against your father's name would have broken the heart of the woman that
+I always loved--your mother. One of us had to bear the shame. I took the
+guilt on myself for her sake--and for yours. I have walked the trails
+of my life a nameless man, but I have kept my soul clean in God's sight,
+and I know His name will soon be written on my forehead over there."
+
+He gazed out toward the glorious beauty of the view beyond him, then
+closed his eyes, and, bravely as he had lived, so bravely he went forth
+on the Long Trail, leaving a name sweet with the perfume of
+self-sacrifice and love.
+
+We did not speak of him to Beverly, for our boy had suddenly grown
+restless, and his blood was threshing furiously in his veins, and he was
+in pain, but only briefly.
+
+Presently he said, "Let us be alone a little." The others drew away.
+
+"Lean down, Gail. I want to tell you something." He smiled sweetly upon
+me as I bent over him.
+
+"I tried to tell you back on the Smoky Hill, but I'd promised not to.
+And honor was something to me still. But I'm going pretty soon. So
+listen! I loved Eloise always--always. But she never cared for me. She
+was only my good chum. I've been too happy-hearted all my days, though,
+Gail, to make a cross of anything that would break me down. Men differ
+so, you know, and I never was a dreamer like you. Turn me a little,
+won't you, so that I can see that awful beauty down there."
+
+I lifted his shoulders gently and placed him where his eyes could rest
+on the majestic scene spread out before him.
+
+"Eloise loves you, but she thinks you would not marry her because they
+say her father was a murderer. I don't believe that, Gail. I told her
+that you didn't, either, not one little minute. You care for her, I
+know, and losing her will break your heart. I tried to tell you long
+ago, but Little Lees made me promise not to say a word that night at
+Burlingame when you had gone away and I thought maybe I had a
+half-chance with her. Tell me you'll make her happy, Gail."
+
+"Oh, Beverly, I'll do my best," I murmured, softly.
+
+"Come closer, Gail. Look at those colors there. Is it so far across, or
+only seeming so? And see the soft white clouds drop purple shadows down.
+Is that the way the trail runs? How beautiful it must be farther on.
+Good-by, old boy of my heart's heart, and don't forget, however long the
+years, and wide away your feet may go, to keep the old trail law. 'Hold
+fast.'"
+
+We laid them away in the deep pine forest--Aunty Boone, of strange,
+prophetic vision; Santan, the cruel Indian; the loyal Hopi maiden; Jondo
+and Beverly. God made them all and in His heaven they will be rightly
+placed.
+
+Beside the cañon's rim, in the soft twilight hour of that October day,
+Eloise St. Vrain and I plighted our troth, till death us do part--for
+just a little while. Plighted it not in happy, selfish affection, such
+as youth and maiden give, sometimes, each to each; but in the deep,
+marvelous love of man and woman pledged where, in sacred moments on
+that day, we had seen the mortal put on immortality. To us there could
+be no grander, richer, lovelier setting for life's best and holiest hour
+than here, where, upon things finite, there rests the beneficent
+uplifting beauty that shadows forth the Infinite.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+  The heart that's never old! Oh the heart that's never old!--
+  'Tis a vision of the lavender, the crimson and the gold
+  Of an airy, fairy morning, when the sky is all ablaze
+  With an ever-changing splendor, driving back the gloom and haze!
+
+  'Tis the vision of an orchard in the balmy month of May,
+  Where the birds are ever singing, and the leaves are ever gay;
+  Where the sun is ever shining with a glory never told,
+  And the trees are ever blooming--for the heart that's never old!
+
+   --JAMES E. HILKEY.
+
+
+The summers and winters of fifty golden years have brought to the plains
+their balmy breezes and blazing heat, their soft, life-giving showers,
+and their fierce, blizzard anger. And down through these fifty years
+Eloise St. Vrain and I have walked the love trails of the plains
+together.
+
+In the early spring of this, our "golden-wedding" year, we sat on the
+veranda of our suburban home in Kansas City, above the picturesque Cliff
+Drive, rippling with automobiles. The same drive winds in its course
+somewhere near the old, rough road that once led from the Clarenden
+home, above the valley of the Kaw, down to the little city of great
+promise--now fulfilled.
+
+"Eloise, youth may have a charm that is all its own," I said to my wife,
+"but I wonder if it really matches the enduring charm of age when one
+looks back on busy years of service."
+
+Eloise smiled up at me--the same gracious smile that has lighted all my
+days with her.
+
+"You are a dreamer still, Gail. But dreams do so sweeten life and keep
+the fires of romance forever burning."
+
+"When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked.
+
+"I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door of the
+old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you looking like a big,
+brown bob-cat, or something else, that might have slept in the Hondo
+'Royo all your life. But withal a boy so loyal to the helpless that you
+were willing to fight for me against an assailant bigger than yourself.
+You became my prince in that hour, and all my dreams since then have
+been of you. When did romance begin with you, or have you forgotten in
+the busy years of a life swallowed up in mercantile pursuits?"
+
+"My life may have been, as you say, swallowed up in building trade that
+builds empire, but I have never forgotten the things that make it fine
+to me," I answered her. "Romance for me began one day, long ago, out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I've been a Vanguard of the
+Plains since then, bull-whacker for the ox-teams that hauled the
+commerce of the West; cavalryman in hard-wearing Indian campaigns that
+defended the frontier; and merchant, giving measure for measure always,
+like that grand man who taught me the worth of business--Esmond
+Clarenden."
+
+"On the parade-ground? How there?" Eloise asked.
+
+"It came the day that I first knew we were to go with Uncle Esmond to
+Santa Fé--for you. We didn't know that it was for you then. I think I
+was born again that day into a daring plainsman, who had been a sort of
+baby-boy before. I sat with Mat and Beverly on the edge of the
+parade-ground, when I looked up to see, with a boy's day-dreaming eyes,
+somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, a vision of a cloud of
+golden hair about a sweet child face, with dark eyes looking into mine.
+That vision stayed with me until, one morning, fifty years ago, on the
+rim of the Grand Cañon--you looked into my eyes again and I knew my life
+dream had come true."
+
+I rose and, bending over my wife's cloud of beautiful silvery hair, I
+kissed her gently on each fair cheek.
+
+"Gail, why not take the old trail for our golden-wedding anniversary--a
+long journey, clear to the mountains?" Eloise suggested.
+
+"There is no trail now; only its ghost haunting the way," I replied,
+"but, Little Lees, I don't believe that we who look back on so many
+happy years, after the stormy ones of early life, could find any other
+path half so dear to us as that long path we knew in childhood and early
+youth, and the one we followed together in our first years of mature
+womanhood and manhood."
+
+And so we did not celebrate one October day with all of our children and
+grandchildren and friends coming to offer us gold coins, gold-headed
+canes--which I do not use--and gold-rimmed glasses for eyes that see
+farther and clearer than my spectacled grandsons at the university can
+see to-day. We made a golden summer of the thing and followed where,
+like a will-o'-the-wisp of memory, the Santa Fé Trail of threescore
+years ago reached from the raw frontier at Independence on to the
+Missouri bluffs, clear to the sunny valley of the Holy Faith.
+
+Only a headstone at long intervals shows the way now--a stone that well
+might read:
+
+     Here ran the old Santa Fé Trail. This stone, set here, is sacred to
+     the memory of the Vanguards of the Plains who followed it.
+
+They stand, these "markers" now, on hilltops and in deep valleys; by
+country crossroads and where main streets cut each other in the towns
+and villages. They ornament the city parks, they show where splendid
+concrete bridges, re-enforced with structural steel, span streams that
+once the ox-teams doubled and trebled strength to ford. They gleam where
+corn grows tall and black on fertile prairies; where seas of wheat have
+flooded barren, burning plains, and perfumey alfalfa sweetens the air
+above what was once grassless desolation. They whisper of a day gone by
+among the silent mountains, where tunnels let the iron trail run easily
+under the old trail's dizzy path. They nestle in the shadows of
+gray-green cliffs and by red mesa heights; until the last monument,
+sacred to the memory of a day forgotten, speaks at the corner of the old
+Plaza in the heart of Santa Fé.
+
+That was a journey long to be remembered--the long, golden-wedding
+journey of Gail Clarenden with his wife, Eloise St. Vrain, and all of it
+was sweet with memories of other days. Not in peril and privation and
+uncertainty did we follow the trail now. The Pullman has replaced the
+Conestoga wagon, dainty viands the coarse food smoke-blackened over
+camp-fires, and never fear of Kiowa nor Comanche broke our slumber. The
+long shriek that cuts the air of dawn was not from wild marauders on a
+daybreak raid down lonely cañons, but from the throats of splendid,
+steel-wrought engines swinging forth upon their solid, certain course.
+
+The prairies still lap up to the edges of the little town of Burlingame,
+whose main street is still the old trail's path. The well has long since
+disappeared from the center of the place. Where once the thirsty
+gathered here to drink, there stands a monument sacred to the memory of
+the old trail days. And sacred, too, to the memory of the one
+far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger Thompson, who first conceived the
+thought of marking for the coming generations the course of commerce
+that built up the West in years gone by.
+
+We never lived in Burlingame, where once--a heart-hungry little boy--I
+longed to have a home. But the Krane children and their children's
+children still make it an abiding-place for us.
+
+To Council Grove, and old Pawnee Rock, the Cimarron Crossing of the
+Arkansas River, the open plain about the site of old Fort Bent--where
+only ghosts of walls and the court remain, and on to Santa Fé, dreamy
+and picturesque--hoary with age, and sweet with sacred memories, we
+wandered on our golden-wedding trail.
+
+The name of Narveo in New Mexico still stands for gentleman. The old
+church of San Miguel still shelters troubled hearts, and in the San
+Christobal valley the Pictured Rocks still build up a rude stair for
+feet that still may need the sanctuary rim of safety set about them.
+Along the length of the old trail a marvelous fifty years have enriched
+a history whose epic days record the deeds of vanguards, who foreran and
+builded for the softer days of golden-wedding years.
+
+The last lap of all that wondrous journey bore us in ease and comfort
+beyond the desert--the Africa, of Aunty Boone's weird fancy--to the
+Grand Cañon of the Colorado. Here, as of old, the riven crust, in its
+eternal silence, and sublimity, and beauty indescribable, calmly, year
+by year, reveals its mighty purpose:
+
+    To quarry the heart of earth,
+        Till, in the rock's red rise,
+      Its age and birth, through an awful girth
+      Of strata, should show the wonder-worth
+        Of patience to all eyes.
+
+Amid luxurious surroundings we lived the October days upon the cañon's
+rim, where, half a century ago, we had gone in hardship and looked on
+tragedy. We crept down all the dizzy lengths to the very heart of it,
+and ate and slept in easy comfort, and gazed upward at the sky-cleaving
+edges thousands of feet above us; we stood beside the raging Colorado
+River, which no man had explored when we first looked upon it here. In
+the serene hours of our sunset years we went back in memory over the
+long way our feet had come. Life is easy for us now, made so by all the
+splendid, simple forces of those who, in justice, honesty, and broad
+human sympathy build enduring empire. Not empire gained by bomb and
+liquid fire, defended by sharp entanglement and cross-trenched to shut
+out enemies; but empire builded on the commerce of the land, value for
+value; empire of bridged rivers, quick transportation on steel-marked
+trails that girdle harvest fields and fruitful pastures; empire of homes
+and schools and sacred shrines.
+
+Our fifty golden years have seen such empire rise and grow before our
+eyes, made great by thrift and business sense, swayed by the Golden
+Rule. An empire rich in love and sweet romance and thrilling deeds of
+courage and self-sacrifice. Glad am I to have been a vanguard of its
+trails upon the Kansas prairies and the far Western plains, sure now, as
+always down the years, that its old law is still a righteous one: To
+that which is good--
+
+"HOLD FAST."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+SIR GILBERT PARKER
+
+_THE WORLD FOR SALE_
+_THE MONEY MASTER_
+_THE JUDGMENT HOUSE_
+_THE RIGHT OF WAY_
+_THE LADDER OF SWORDS_
+_THE WEAVERS_
+_THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG_
+_WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC_
+_THE LANE THAT HAD NO TURNING_
+_NORTHERN LIGHTS_
+_PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE_
+_AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH_
+_A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS_
+_CUMNER'S SON, AND OTHER_
+_SOUTH SEA FOLK_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+MARGARET DELAND
+
+
+_THE RISING TIDE. Illustrated_
+_AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated_
+_THE COMMON WAY. 16mo_
+_DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated_
+_AN ENCORE. Illustrated_
+_GOOD FOR THE SOUL. Illustrated_
+_THE HINDS OF ESAU. Illustrated_
+_THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated_
+_THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated_
+_OLD CHESTER TILES. Illustrated_
+_PARTNERS. Illustrated_
+_R.J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated_
+_THE VOICE. Illustrated_
+_THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated_
+_WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Illustrated_
+
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+NOVELS OF
+
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+The New Thin-Paper Edition of the greatest living English novelist is
+issued in two bindings: Red Limp-Leather and Red Flexible Cloth, 12mo.
+Frontispiece in each volume.
+
+
+_DESPERATE REMEDIES
+FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD
+A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES
+THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA
+JUDE THE OBSCURE
+A LAODICEAN
+LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES
+THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE
+A PAIR OF BLUE EYES
+THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE
+TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES
+THE TRUMPET MAJOR
+TWO ON A TOWER
+UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE
+THE WELL-BELOVED
+WESSEX TALES
+THE WOODLANDERS_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+RECENT BOOKS OF TRAVEL
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_IN VACATION AMERICA_ By HARRISON RHODES
+
+_In this book of leisurely wanderings the author journeys among the
+various holiday resorts of the United States from Maine to Atlantic
+City, Newport, Bar Harbor, the Massachusetts beaches, Long Island Sound,
+the Great Lakes, Niagara, ever-young Greenbriar White and other Virginia
+Springs, Saratoga, White Mountains, the winter resorts of Florida, the
+Carolinas and California._ Illustrated in Color
+
+
+_ALONG NEW ENGLAND ROADS_
+
+By WILLIAM C. PRIME
+
+_All those who are on the lookout for an unusual way to spend a vacation
+will find suggestions here. This book of leisurely travel in New
+Hampshire and Vermont has been reprinted to meet the demand for a work
+that has never failed to charm since its first publication more than a
+decade ago._ Illustrated
+
+
+_AUSTRALIAN BYWAYS_ By NORMAN DUNCAN
+
+_In this book the author gives a chatty account of his trip along the
+outskirts of Australian civilization. The big cities were merely passed
+through, and the journeying was principally by stage-coach, on
+camel-back, or by small coastal steamers from Western Australia to New
+Guinea._ Illustrated in Tint
+
+
+_CALIFORNIA: An Intimate History_
+
+By GERTRUDE ATHERTON
+
+_The California of to-day and the California of yesterday with its
+picturesque story, are set forth in this book by the one writer who
+could bring to it the skill united with that love for the task of a
+Californian-born, Gertrude Atherton. This story of California covers the
+varied history of the state from its earliest geological beginnings down
+to the California of 1915._ Illustrated
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13345 ***
diff --git a/13345-h/13345-h.htm b/13345-h/13345-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f31dcab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13345-h/13345-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,12051 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+
+<html>
+<head>
+  <meta name="generator" content=
+  "HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st August 2004), see www.w3.org">
+  <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+  "text/html; charset=UTF-8">
+  <meta name="GENERATOR" content="Microsoft FrontPage 4.0">
+  <meta name="ProgId" content="FrontPage.Editor.Document">
+
+  <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Vanguards of the Plains by
+  Margaret Hill McCarter.</title>
+<style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p            { text-align: justify; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em }
+table        { border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+*#col1       { border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+td           { border-style: none; border-width: medium; padding: 0em }
+h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { text-align: center }
+hr           { text-align: center; width: 50% }
+html>body hr { width: 50%; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25% }
+hr.full      { width: 100% }
+html>body hr.full { width: 100%; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0% }
+hr.short     { text-align: center; width: 20% }
+html>body hr.short { width: 20%; margin-left: 40%; margin-right: 40% }
+body         { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10% }
+img          { border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+.ctr         { text-align: center }
+.linenum     { position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4% }
+/* poetry number */
+    .note        { margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em }
+/* footnote */
+    .blkquot     { margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em }
+/* block indent */
+    .pagenum     { position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right }
+/* page numbers */
+    .sidenote    { width: 20%; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em;
+               margin-bottom: 1em; padding-left: 1em }
+.poem        { text-align: left; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10% }
+.poem br     { display: none }
+.poem .stanza { margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em }
+.poem span   { display: block; text-indent: -3em; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em }
+.poem span.i2 { display: block; margin-left: 2em }
+.poem span.i4 { display: block; margin-left: 4em }
+.poem .caesura { vertical-align: -200% }
+// -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+</style>
+</head>
+
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13345 ***</div>
+
+  <br>
+
+  <h3><font size="6"><span style=
+  "font-family: 'Times New Roman'">VANGUARDS OF THE
+  PLAINS</span><br></font><br>
+  <a href="images/p001m.jpg"><img border="0" src="images/p001s.jpg"
+  alt="Cover Page Facing Art" width="182" height=
+  "277"></a><span><br></span><span><font size="3">I COULD NOT SPEAK
+  THEN, FOR ONE SENTENCE WAS RINGING IN <span>MY EARS--"I WAS
+  ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU"</span></font></span></h3>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h4><font size="6"><span>VANGUARDS OF THE
+  PLAINS</span></font></h4>
+
+  <h3><span><font size="4">A ROMANCE OF THE OLD SANTA F&Eacute;
+  TRAIL</font></span></h3>
+
+  <h4>BY</h4>
+
+  <h3><span>MARGARET HILL McCARTER</span></h3>
+
+  <h5><span><font size="3">AUTHOR OF <i>The Price of the
+  Prairie</i></font></span></h5>
+
+
+
+  <h5 align="center"><span>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON</span></h5>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h4><span>VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS</span></h4>
+
+  <h6><span>1917, Harper &amp; Brothers<br>
+  Printed in the United States of America<br>
+  </span></h6>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h2><span>DEDICATION</span></h2><span>This story of the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail would do honor to the memory of those stalwart
+  men who defied the desert, who walked the prairies boldly, and
+  who died bravely--<i>vanguards</i> in the building of a firm
+  highway for the commerce of a westward-moving Empire.</span>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h3><span> <font face="Courier New" size=
+  "4">CONTENTS</font></span></h3>
+
+  <p><span><a href="#FOREWORD"><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">FOREWORD</font></a></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2">PART I<br>
+  <a href="#CLEARING">CLEARING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">I. <a href="#I">THE BEGINNINGS OF A
+  PLAINSMAN</a><br>
+  II. <a href="#II">A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN</a><br>
+  III. <a href="#III">THE WIDENING HORIZON</a><br>
+  IV. <a href="#IV">THE MAN IN THE DARK</a><br>
+  V. <a href="#V">WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST</a><br>
+  VI. <a href="#VI">SPYING OUT THE LAND</a><br>
+  VII. <a href="#VII">"SANCTUARY"</a><br>
+  VIII. <a href="#VIII">THE WILDERNESS
+  CROSSROADS</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2"><br>
+  PART II<br>
+  <a href="#BUILDING">BUILDING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">IX. <a href="#IX">IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH
+  BLOSSOM</a><br>
+  X. <a href="#X">THE HANDS THAT CLING</a><br>
+  XI. <a href="#XI">"OUR FRIENDS--THE
+  ENEMY"</a><br>
+  XII. <a href="#XII">THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE
+  PLAINS</a><br>
+  XIII. <a href="#XIII">IN THE SHELTER OF SAN
+  MIGUEL</a><br>
+  XIV. <a href="#XIV">OPENING THE RECORD</a><br>
+  XV. <a href="#XV">THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN
+  CHRISTOBAL</a><br>
+  XVI. <a href="#XVI">FINISHING TOUCHES</a><br>
+  XVII. <a href="#XVII">SWEET AND BITTER
+  WATERS</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><font face="Courier New" size="2"><span><br>
+  PART III<br>
+  <a href="#DEFENDING">DEFENDING THE
+  TRAIL</a></span></font></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size="2">XVIII.
+  <a href="#XVIII">WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN</a><br>
+  XIX. <a href="#XIX">A MAN'S PART</a><br>
+  XX. <a href="#XX">GONE OUT</a><br>
+  XXI. <a href="#XXI">IN THE SHADOW OF THE
+  INFINITE</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2"><br>
+  PART IV<br>
+  <a href="#REMEMBERING">REMEMBERING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">XXII. <a href="#XXII">THE GOLDEN
+  WEDDING</a></font></span>  </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><span><a name="FOREWORD" id=
+  "FOREWORD">FOREWORD</a></span></h3> <span>Westward,
+  along the level prairies of a kingdom yet to be, my memory runs,
+  with a clear vision of the days when romance died not and strong
+  hearts never failed. The glamour of the plains is before my eyes;
+  the tingle of courage, danger-born, is in my pulse-beat; the soft
+  hand of love is touching my hand. I live again the drama of life
+  wherein there are no idle actors, no stale, unmeaning lines. And
+  beyond the action, this way <i>up</i> the years, there runs also
+  the forward-gazing vision toward a new Hesperides:</span>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"> Through the
+  veins<span><br>
+   </span> Of whose vast Empire flows, in strength'ning
+  tides,<span><br>
+   </span> Trade, the calm health of nations.</p>
+
+  <p class="ctr">  <font size=
+  "5"> *
+  * *
+  * *</font></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span>And sometimes I would doubt</span><br>
+    If statesmen, rocked and dandled into power,<span><br>
+   </span> Could leave such legacies to kings.</p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3>I<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="CLEARING" id="CLEARING">CLEARING THE TRAIL</a><br>
+  <br>
+  VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS<br>
+  <br>
+  A ROMANCE OF THE SANTA F&Eacute; TRAIL<br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="I" id="I">I</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    There came a time in the law of life<br>
+      When over the nursing sod<br>
+    The shadows broke, and the soul awoke<br>
+      In a strange, dim dream of God.<br>
+         --LANGDON SMITH.</p>
+
+  <p>It might have been but yesterday that I saw it all: the
+  glinting sunlight on the yellow Missouri boiling endlessly along
+  at the foot of the bluff; the flood-washed sands across the
+  river; the tangle of tall, coarse weeds fringing them, edged by
+  the scrubby underbrush. And beyond that the big trees of the
+  Missouri woodland, so level against the eastern horizon that I
+  used to wonder if I might not walk upon their solid-looking tops
+  if I could only reach them. I wondered, too, why the trees on our
+  side of the river should vary so in height when those in the
+  eastern distance were so evenly grown. One day I had asked Jondo
+  the reason for this, and had learned that it was because of the
+  level ground on the farther side of the valley. I began then to
+  love the level places of the earth. I love them still. And,
+  always excepting that one titanic rift, where the world stands
+  edgewise, with the sublimity of the Almighty shimmering through
+  its far depths, I love them more than any other thing that nature
+  has yet offered to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  But to come back to that picture of yesterday: old Fort
+  Leavenworth on the bluff; the little and big ravines that billow
+  the landscape about it; the faint lines of trails winding along
+  the hillsides toward the southwest; the unclouded skies so
+  everlastingly big and intensely blue; and, hanging like a spray
+  of glorious blossoms flung high above me, the swaying folds of
+  the wind-caressed flag, now drooping on its tall staff, now
+  swelling full and free, straight from its gripping halyards.<br>
+  <br>
+  Between me and the fort many people were passing to and fro, some
+  of whom were to walk with me down the long trail of years.
+  Evermore that April day stands out as the beginning of things for
+  me. Dim are the days behind it, a jumble of happy childish hours,
+  each keen enough as the things of childhood go; but from that one
+  day to the present hour the unforgotten deeds of busy years run
+  clearly in my memory as I lift my pen to write somewhat of their
+  dramatic record.<br>
+  <br>
+  And that this may not seem all a backward gaze, let me face about
+  and look forward from the beginning--a stretch of canvas, lurid
+  sometimes, sometimes in glorious tinting, sometimes intensely
+  dark, with rifts of lightning cleaving through its blackness. But
+  nowhere dull, nowhere without design in every brush-stroke.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had gone out on the bluff to watch for the big fish that Bill
+  Banney, a young Kentuckian over at the fort, had told me were to
+  be seen only on those April days when the Missouri was running
+  north instead of south. And that when little boys kept very
+  still, the fish would come out of the water and play leap-frog on
+  the sand-bars.<br>
+  <br>
+  If I failed to see them this morning, I meant to run back to the
+  parade-ground and play leap-frog myself with my cousin Beverly,
+  who wanted proof for most of Bill Banney's stories. Beverly was
+  growing wise and lanky for his age. I was still chubby, and in
+  most things innocent, and inclined to believe all that I heard,
+  or I should not have been taken in by that fish story.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were orphans with no recollection of any other home than the
+  log house near the fort. We had been fathered and mothered by our
+  uncle, Esmond Clarenden, owner of the little store across the
+  square from our house, and a larger establishment down at
+  Independence on the Missouri River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Always a wonderful man to me was that Esmond Clarenden, product
+  of one of the large old New England colleges. He found time to
+  guard our young years with the same diplomatic system by which he
+  controlled all of his business affairs. He laid his plans
+  carefully and never swerved from carrying them through afterward;
+  he insisted on order in everything; he rendered value for value
+  in his contracts; he chose his employees carefully, and trusted
+  them fully; he had a keen sense of humor, a genial spirit of
+  good-will, and he loved little children. Fitted as he was by
+  culture and genius to have entered into the greater opportunities
+  of the Eastern States, he gave himself to the real up-building of
+  the West, and in the larger comfort and prosperity and peace of
+  the Kansas prairies of to-day his soul goes marching on.<br>
+  <br>
+  The waters, as I watched them, were all running south toward that
+  vague, down-stream world shut off by trees at a bend of the
+  course. I waited a long time there for the current to shift to
+  the north, wondering meanwhile about those level-topped forests,
+  and what I might see beyond them if I were sitting on their flat
+  crests. And, as I wondered, the first dim sense of being <i>shut
+  in</i> came filtering through my childish consciousness. I could
+  not cross the river. Big as my playground had always been, I had
+  never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff up-stream, nor
+  down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the southwest. What
+  lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and again. I
+  had been a dreamer all of my short life, and this new feeling of
+  being shut in, held back, from something slipped upon me
+  easily.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat on the bluff in the April sunshine, I turned my face
+  toward the west and stretched out my chubby arms for larger
+  freedom. I wanted to <i>see the open level places</i>, wanted
+  till it hurt me. I could cry easily enough for some things. I
+  could not cry for this. It was too deep for tears to reach.
+  Moreover, this new longing seemed to drop down on me suddenly and
+  overwhelm me, until I felt almost as if I were caught in a
+  net.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I stared with half-seeing eyes toward the wooded ravines
+  beyond the fort, suddenly through the budding branches I caught
+  sight of a horseman riding down a half-marked trail into a deep
+  hollow. Horsemen were common enough to forget in a moment, but
+  when this one reappeared on the hither side of the ravine, I saw
+  that the rider's face was very dark, that his dress, from the
+  sombrero to the spurred heel, was Mexican, and that he was
+  heavily armed, even for a plainsman. When he reached the top of
+  the bluff he made straight across the square toward my uncle
+  Esmond Clarenden's little storehouse, and I lost sight of
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Something about him seemed familiar to me, for the gift of
+  remembering faces was mine, even then. A fleeting childish memory
+  called up such a face and dress somewhere back in the dim days of
+  babyhood, with the haunting sound of a low, musical voice,
+  speaking in the soft Castilian tongue.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the memory vanished and I sat a long time gazing at the
+  wooded west that hid the open West of my day-dreams.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly Jondo came riding up on his big black horse to the very
+  edge of the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are such a little mite, I nearly forgot to see you," he
+  called, cheerily. "Your Uncle Esmond wants you right away. Mat
+  Nivers, or somebody else, sent me to run you down," he added,
+  leaning over to lift me up to a seat on the horse behind him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Few handsomer men ever graced a saddle. Big, broad-shouldered,
+  muscular, yet agile, a head set like a Greek statue, and a
+  face--nobody could ever make a picture of Jondo's face for
+  me--the curling brown hair, soft as a girl's, the broad forehead,
+  deep-set blue eyes, heavy dark brow, cheeks always ruddy through
+  the plain's tan, strong white teeth, firm square chin, and a
+  smile like sunshine on the gray prairies. Eyes, lips, teeth--aye,
+  the big heart behind them--all made that smile. No grander prince
+  of men ever rode the trails or dared the dangers of the untamed
+  West. I did not know his story for many years. I wish I might
+  never have known it. But as he began with me, so he ended--brave,
+  beloved old Jondo!<br>
+  <br>
+  Down on the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden and Mat Nivers were
+  sitting with their feet crossed under them, tailor fashion,
+  facing each other and talking earnestly. Over by the fort, Esmond
+  Clarenden stood under a big elm-tree. A round little, stout
+  little man he was, whose sturdy strength and grace of bearing
+  made up for his lack of height. Like a great green tent the
+  boughs of the elm, just budding into leaf, drooped over him. A
+  young army officer on a cavalry horse was talking with him as we
+  came up.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Run over there to Beverly now. Gail," my uncle said, with a wave
+  of his hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was always in awe of shoulder-straps, so I scampered away
+  toward the children. But not until, child-like, I had stared at
+  the three men long enough to take a child's lasting estimate of
+  things.<br>
+  <br>
+  I carry still the keen impression of that moment when I took,
+  unconsciously, the measure of the three: the mounted army man,
+  commander of the fort, big in his official authority and force;
+  Jondo on his great black horse, to me the heroic type of
+  chivalric courage; and between the two, Esmond Clarenden,
+  unmounted, with feet firmly planted, suggesting nothing heroic,
+  nothing autocratic. And yet, as he stood there, square-built,
+  solid, certain, he seemed in some dim way to be the real man of
+  whom the other two were but shadows. It took a quarter of a
+  century for me to put into words what I learned with one glance
+  that day in my childhood.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I came running toward the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden
+  called out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come here, Gail! Shut your little mouth and open your big ears,
+  and I'll tell you something. Maybe I'd better not tell you all at
+  once, though. It might make you dizzy," he added, teasingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And maybe you better had," Mat Nivers said, calmly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe you'd better tell him yourself, if you feel that way,"
+  Beverly retorted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess I'll do that," Mat began, with a twinkle in her big gray
+  eyes; but my cousin interrupted her.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly loved to tease Mat through me, but he never got far, for
+  I relied on her to curb him; and she was not one to be ruffled by
+  trifles. Mat was an orphan and, like ourselves, a ward of Esmond
+  Clarenden, but there were no ties of kinship between us. She was
+  three years older than Beverly, and although she was no taller
+  than he, she seemed like a woman to me, a keen-witted,
+  good-natured child-woman, neat, cleanly, and contented. I wonder
+  if many women get more out of life in these days of luxurious
+  comforts than she found in the days of frontier hardships.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, it's this way, Gail. Mat doesn't know the straight of it,"
+  Beverly began, dramatically. "There's going to be a war, or
+  something, in Mexico, or somewhere, and a lot of soldiers are
+  coming here to drill, and drill, and drill. And then--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy paused for effect.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And then, and then, <i>and</i> then--or some time," Mat Nivers
+  mimicked, jumping into the pause. "Why, they'll go to Mexico, or
+  somewhere. And what Bev is really trying to tell hasn't anything
+  to do with it--not directly, anyhow," she added, wisely. "The
+  only new thing is that Uncle Esmond is going to Santa F&eacute;
+  right away. You know he has bought goods of the Santa F&eacute;
+  traders since we couldn't remember. And now he's going down there
+  himself, and he's going to take you boys with him. That's what
+  Bev is trying to get out, or keep back."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Whoopee-diddle-dee!" Beverly shouted, throwing himself backward
+  and kicking up his heels.<br>
+  <br>
+  I jumped up and capered about in glee at the thought of such a
+  journey. But my heart-throb of childish delight was checked,
+  mid-beat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Won't Mat go, too?" I asked, with a sudden pain at my throat.
+  Mat Nivers was a part of life to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  The smile fell away from the girl's lips. Her big, sunshiny gray
+  eyes and her laughing good nature always made her beautiful to
+  Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't want to go and leave Mat," I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I do," Beverly declared, boastingly. "It would be real nice
+  and jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out
+  on the prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were
+  shooting Indians?"<br>
+  <br>
+  He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and
+  arrow. But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered
+  a sob.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden,
+  and, besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo,
+  and I reckon he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of
+  the orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the
+  championship of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond
+  Clarenden, who said little to children, and was instinctively
+  trusted by all of them.<br>
+  <br>
+  With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes.
+  It was never lost from them long at a time.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, you keep <i>your</i> little mouth shut and
+  <i>your</i> big ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the
+  whole sheboodle better 'n any of you, and I'm not teasing and
+  whimpering both at the same time, neither. Bev doesn't know
+  anything except what I've told him, and I wasn't through when you
+  got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war in Texas, and our
+  soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look up at that
+  flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars and
+  Stripes go they <i>stay</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied,
+  pulling down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond
+  hasn't anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he
+  has been doing here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a
+  merchant, and I guess he's just about as good as a general--a
+  colonel, anyhow. But he's too short to fight, and too fat to
+  run."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men
+  that keeps things going everywhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
+  straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he
+  came here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war
+  in Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa F&eacute;,
+  even if Uncle Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all
+  a girl knows about things," Beverly insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked straight at the boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't pretend to know what I don't know, but I'll bet a
+  million billion dollars there is something else besides just all
+  this war stuff. I can't tell it, I just feel it. Anyhow, I'm to
+  stay here with Aunty Boone till you come back. Girls can be
+  trusted anywhere, but it may take the whole Army of the West,
+  yet, to follow up and look after two little runty boys. And let
+  me tell <i>you</i> something, Bev, something I heard Aunty Boone
+  say this morning." She said: "Taint goin' to be more 'n a minnit
+  now till them boys grows up an' grows together, same size, same
+  age. They been little and big, long as they goin' to be. Now you
+  know what you're coming to."<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat was digging in the ground with a stick, and she flipped a
+  clod at Beverly with the last words. Both of us had once expected
+  to marry her when we grew up, unless Jondo should carry her away
+  as his bride before that time. He was a dozen years older than
+  Mat, who was only fourteen and small for her age. A flush always
+  came to her cheeks when we talked of Jondo in that way. We didn't
+  know why.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat silent for a little while. A vague sense of desolateness,
+  of the turning-places of life, as real to children as to older
+  folk, seemed to press suddenly down upon all three of us. Ours
+  was not the ordinary child-life even of that day. And that was a
+  time when children had no world of their own as they have to-day.
+  Whatever developed men and women became a part of the younger
+  life training as well. And while we were ignorant of much that
+  many children then learned early, for we had lived mostly beside
+  the fort on the edge of the wilderness, we were alert, and
+  self-dependent, fearless and far-seeing. We could use tools
+  readily: we could build fires and prepare game for cooking; we
+  could climb trees, set traps, swim in the creek, and ride horses.
+  Moreover, we were bound to one another by the force of isolation
+  and need for playmates. Our imagination supplied much that our
+  surroundings denied us. So we felt more deeply, maybe, than many
+  city-bred children who would have paled with fear at dangers that
+  we only laughed over.<br>
+  <br>
+  No ripple in the even tenor of our days, however, had given any
+  hint of the coming of this sudden tense oppression on our young
+  souls, and we were stunned by what we could neither express nor
+  understand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Whatever comes or doesn't come," Beverly said at last,
+  stretching himself at full length, stomach downward, on the bare
+  ground, "whatever happens to us, we three will stand by each
+  other always and always, won't we, Mat?"<br>
+  <br>
+  He lifted his face to the girl's. Oh, Beverly! I saw him again
+  one day down the years, stretched out on the ground like this,
+  lifting again a pleading face. But that belongs--down the
+  years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, always and always," Mat replied, and then because she had a
+  Spartan spirit, she added: "But let's don't say any more that
+  way. Let's think of what you are going to see--the plains, the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail, the mountains, and maybe bad Indians. And
+  even old Santa F&eacute; town itself. You are in for 'the big
+  shift,' as Aunty Boone says, and you've got to be little men and
+  take whatever comes. It will come fast enough, you can bet on
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  Yesterday I might have sobbed on her shoulder. I did not know
+  then that out on the bluff an hour ago I had come to the first
+  turn in my life-trail, and that I could not look back now. I did
+  know that I <i>wanted to go with Uncle Esmond</i>. I looked away
+  from Mat's gray eyes, and Beverly's head dropped on his arms,
+  face downward--looked at nothing but blue sky, and a graceful
+  drooping flag; nothing but a half-sleepy, half-active fort;
+  nothing but the yellow April floods far up-stream, between wooded
+  banks tenderly gray-green in the spring sunshine. But I did not
+  see any of these things then. Before my eyes there stretched a
+  vast level prairie, with dim mountain heights beyond them. And
+  marching toward them westward, westward, past lurking danger,
+  Indians here and wild beasts there, went three men: the officer
+  on his cavalry mount; Jondo on his big black horse; Esmond
+  Clarenden, neither mounted nor on foot, it seemed, but going
+  forward somehow. And between these three and the misty mountain
+  peaks there was a face--not Mat Nivers's, for the first time in
+  all my day-dreams--a sweet face with dark eyes looking straight
+  into mine. And plainly then, just as plainly as I have heard it
+  many times since then, came a call--the first clear bugle-note of
+  the child-soul--a call to service, to patriotism, and to
+  love.<br>
+  <br>
+  All that afternoon while Mat Nivers sang about her tasks Beverly
+  and I tried to play together among the elm and cottonwood trees
+  about our little home, but evening found us wide awake and
+  moping. Instead of the two tired little sleepy-heads that could
+  barely finish supper, awake, when night came, we lay in our
+  trundle-bed, whispering softly to each other and staring at the
+  dark with tear-wet eyes--our spiritual barometers warning us of a
+  coming change. Something must have happened to us that night
+  which only the retrospect of years revealed. In that hour Beverly
+  Clarenden lost a year of his life and I gained one. From that
+  time we were no longer little and big to each other--we were
+  comrades.<br>
+  <br>
+  It must have been nearly midnight when I crept out of bed and
+  slipped into the big room where Uncle Esmond and Jondo sat by the
+  fireplace, talking together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Hello, little night-hawk! Come here and roost," Jondo said,
+  opening his arms to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I slid into their embrace and snuggled my head against his broad
+  shoulder, listening to all that was said. Three months later the
+  little boy had become a little man, and my cuddling days had
+  given place to the self-reliance of the fearless youngster of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why do you make this trip now, Esmond?" Jondo asked at length,
+  looking straight into my uncle's face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to get down there right now because I want to get a grip
+  on trade conditions. I can do better after the war if I do. It
+  won't last long, and we are sure to take over a big piece of
+  ground there when it is over. And when that is settled commerce
+  must do the real building-up of the country. I want to be a part
+  of that thing and grow with it. Why do you go with me?"<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle looked directly at Jondo, although he asked the question
+  carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To help you cross the plains. You know the redskins get worse
+  every trip," Jondo answered, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared at both of them until Jondo said, laughingly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You little owl, what are you thinking about?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think you are telling each other stories," I replied,
+  frankly.<br>
+  <br>
+  For somehow their faces made me think of Beverly's face out on
+  the parade-ground that morning, when he had lifted it and looked
+  at Mat Nivers; and their voices, deep bass as they were, sounded
+  like Beverly's voice whispering between his sobs, before he went
+  to sleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  Both men smiled and said nothing. But when I went to my bed again
+  Jondo tucked the covers about me and Uncle Esmond came and bade
+  me good night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess you have the makings of a plainsman," he said, with a
+  smile, as he patted me on the head.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The beginnings, anyhow," Jondo added. "He can see pretty far
+  already."<br>
+  <br>
+  For a long time I lay awake, thinking of all that Uncle Esmond
+  and Jondo had said to me. It is no wonder that I remember that
+  April day as if it were but yesterday. Such days come only to
+  childhood, and oftentimes when no one of older years can see
+  clearly enough to understand the bigness of their meaning to the
+  child who lives through them.<br>
+  <br>
+  All of my life I had heard stories of the East, of New York and
+  St. Louis, where there were big houses and wonderful stores. And
+  of Washington, where there was a President, and a Congress, and a
+  strange power that could fill and empty Fort Leavenworth at will.
+  I had heard of the Great Lakes, and of cotton-fields, and
+  tobacco-plantations, and sugar-camps, and ships, and steam-cars.
+  I had pictured these things a thousand times in my busy
+  imagination and had longed to see them. But from that day they
+  went out of my life-dreams. Henceforth I belonged to the prairies
+  of the West. No one but myself took account of this, nor guessed
+  that a life-trend had had its commencement in the small events of
+  one unimportant day. <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="II" id="II">II</a><br>
+  <br>
+  A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN<br></h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">  One stone the more swings to her place<br>
+      In that dread Temple of Thy worth;<br>
+    It is enough that through Thy grace<br>
+      I saw naught common on Thy earth.</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"> </p>
+
+  <p>The next morning I was wakened by the soft voice of Aunty
+  Boone, our cook, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You better get up! Revilly blow over at the fort long time ago.
+  Wonder it didn't blow your batter-cakes clear away. Mat and
+  Beverly been up since 'fore sunup."<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone was the biggest woman I have ever seen. Not the
+  tallest, maybe--although she measured up to a height of six feet
+  and two inches--not the fattest, but a woman with the biggest
+  human frame, overlaid with steel-hard muscles. Yet she was not,
+  in her way, clumsy or awkward. She walked with a free stride, and
+  her every motion showed a powerful muscular control. Her face was
+  jet-black, with keen shining eyes, and glittering white teeth. In
+  my little child-world she was the strangest creature I had ever
+  known. In the larger world whither the years of my manhood have
+  led me she holds the same place.<br>
+  <br>
+  She had been born a princess of royal blood, heir to a queenship
+  in her tribe in a far-away African kingdom. In her young
+  womanhood, so the tale ran, the slave-hunter had found her and
+  driven her aboard a slave-ship bound for the American coast. He
+  never drove another slave toward any coast. In Virginia her first
+  purchaser had sold her quickly to a Georgia planter whose
+  <i>heirs</i> sent her on to Mississippi. Thence she soon found
+  her way to the Louisiana rice-fields. Nobody came to take her
+  back to any place she had quitted. "Safety first," is not a
+  recent practice. She had enormous strength and capacity for
+  endurance, she learned rapidly, kept her own counsel, obeyed no
+  command unless she chose to do so, and feared nothing in the
+  Lord's universe. The people of her own race had little in common
+  with her. They never understood her and so they feared her. And
+  being as it were outcast by them, she came to know more of the
+  ways and customs, and even the thoughts, of the white people
+  better than of her own. Being quick to imitate, she spoke in the
+  correcter language of those whom she knew best, rather than the
+  soft, ungrammatical dialect of the plantation slave or the grunt
+  and mumble of the isolated African. Realizing that service was to
+  be her lot, she elected to render that service where and to whom
+  she herself might choose.<br>
+  <br>
+  One day she had walked into New Orleans and boarded a Mississippi
+  steamer bound for St. Louis. It took three men to eject her
+  bodily from the deck into a deep and dangerous portion of the
+  stream. She swam ashore, and when the steamer made its next stop
+  she walked aboard again. The three men being under the care of a
+  physician, and the remainder of the crew burdened with other
+  tasks, she was not again disturbed. Some time later she appeared
+  at the landing below Fort Leavenworth, and strode up the slope to
+  the deserted square where Esmond Clarenden stood before his
+  little store alone in the deepening twilight.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have heard that she had had a way of appearing suddenly, like a
+  beast of prey, in the dusk of the evening, and that few men cared
+  to meet her at that time alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle was a snug-built man, sixty-two inches high, with small,
+  shapely hands and feet. Towering above him stood this great,
+  strange creature, barefooted, ragged, half tiger, half
+  sphinx.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm hungry. I'll eat or I kill. I'm nobody's slave!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The soft voice was full of menace, the glare of famine and fury
+  was in the burning eyes, and the supple cruelty of the wild beast
+  was in the clenched hands.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden looked up at her with interest. Then pointing
+  toward our house he said, calmly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Neither are you anybody's master. Go over there to the kitchen
+  and get your supper. If you can cook good meals, I'll pay you
+  well. If you can't, you'll leave here."<br>
+  <br>
+  Possibly it was the first time in her strange and varied career
+  that she had taken a command kindly, and obeyed because she must.
+  And so the savage African princess, the terror of the terrible
+  slave-ship, the untamed plantation scourge, with a record for
+  deeds that belong to another age and social code, became the
+  great, silent, faithful, fearless servant of the plains; with us,
+  but never of us, in all the years that followed. But she fitted
+  the condition of her day, and in her place she stood, where the
+  beloved black mammy of a gentler mold would have fallen.<br>
+  <br>
+  She announced that her name was Daniel Boone, which Uncle Esmond
+  considered well enough for one of such a westward-roving nature.
+  But Jondo declared that the "Daniel" belonged to her because,
+  like unto the Bible Daniel, no lion, nor whole den of lions,
+  would ever dine at her expense. To us she became Aunty Boone.
+  With us she was always gentle--docile, rather; and one day we
+  came to know her real measure, and--we never forgot her.<br>
+  <br>
+  I bounced out of bed at her call this morning, and bounced my
+  breakfast into a healthy, good-natured stomach. The sunny April
+  of yesterday had whirled into a chilly rain, whipped along by a
+  raw wind. The skies were black and all the spring verdure was
+  turned to a sickish gray-green.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Weather always fit the times," Aunty Boone commented as she
+  heaped my plate with the fat buckwheat cakes that only she could
+  ever turn off a griddle. "You packin' up for somepin' now. What
+  you goin' to get is fo'casted in this here nasty day."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, we <i>are</i> going away!" I cried, suddenly recalling the
+  day before. "I wish, though, that Mat could go. Wouldn't you like
+  to go, too, Aunty? Only, Bev says there's deserts, where there's
+  just rocks and sand and everything, and no water sometimes. You
+  and Mat couldn't stand that 'cause you are women-folks."<br>
+  <br>
+  I stiffened with importance and clutched my knife and fork
+  hard.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Couldn't!" Aunty Boone gave a scornful grunt. "Women-folks
+  stands double more 'n men. You'll see when you get older. I know
+  about you freightin' off to Santy Fee. <i>You</i> don't know what
+  desset is. <i>You</i> never <i>see sand</i>. You never
+  <i>feel</i> what it is to <i>want watah</i>. Only folks 'cross
+  the ocean in the real desset knows that. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  I remembered the weird tales she had told us of her
+  girlhood--tales that had thrilled me with wonder--told sometimes
+  in the twilight, sometimes by the kitchen fire on winter nights,
+  sometimes on long, still, midsummer afternoons when the air
+  quivered with heat and the Missouri hung about hot sand-bars,
+  half asleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What do you know about this trip, Aunty Boone?" I asked,
+  eagerly; for although she could neither read nor write, she had a
+  sponge-like absorbing power for keeping posted on all that
+  happened at the fort.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cla'n'den"--the woman never called my uncle by any other
+  name--"he's goin' to Santy Fee, an' you boys with him,
+  'cause--"<br>
+  <br>
+  She paused and her shining eyes grew dull as they had a way of
+  doing in her thoughtful or prophetic moments.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He knows what for--him an' Jondo. One of 'em's storekeeper an'
+  t'other a plainsman, but they tote together always--an' they
+  totin' now. You can't see what, but they totin', they totin',
+  just the same. Now run out to the store. Things is stirrin'.
+  Things is stirrin'."<br>
+  <br>
+  I bolted my cakes, sodden with maple syrup, drank my mug of milk,
+  and hurried out toward the storehouse.<br>
+  <br>
+  Fort Leavenworth in the middle '40's was sometimes an indolent
+  place, and sometimes a very busy one, depending upon the activity
+  of the Western frontier. On this raw April morning everything was
+  fairly ajerk with life and motion. And I knew from
+  child-experience that a body of soldiers must be coming up the
+  river soon. Horses were rushed to-day where yesterday they had
+  been leisurely led. Orders were shouted now that had been half
+  sung a week ago. Military discipline took the place of fatigue
+  attitudes. There was a banging of doors, a swinging of brooms, a
+  clatter of tin, and a clanging of iron things. And everywhere
+  went that slapping wind. And every shallow place in the ground
+  held a chilly puddle. The government buildings always seemed big
+  and bare and cold to me. And this morning they seemed drearier
+  than ever, beaten upon by the fitful swish of the rain.<br>
+  <br>
+  In contrast with these were my uncle's snug quarters, for warmth
+  was a part of Esmond Clarenden's creed. I used to think that the
+  little storeroom, filled with such things as a frontier fort
+  could find use for, was the biggest emporium in America, and the
+  owner thereof suffered nothing, in my eyes, in comparison with
+  A.T. Stewart, the opulent New York merchant of his day.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I ran, bareheaded and coatless, across the wide wet space
+  between our home and the storehouse a soldier came dashing by on
+  horseback. I dodged behind him only to fall sprawling in a
+  slippery pool under the very feet of another horseman, riding
+  swiftly toward the boat-landing.<br>
+  <br>
+  Neither man paid any attention to me as I slowly picked myself up
+  and started toward the store. The soldier had not seen me at all.
+  The other man's face was dark, and he wore the dress of the
+  Mexican. It was only by his alertness and skill that his horse
+  missed me, but as he hurried away he gave no more heed to me than
+  if I had been a stone in his path.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had turned my ankle in the fall and I could only limp to the
+  storehouse and drop down inside. I would not cry out, but I could
+  not hold back the sobs as I tried to stand, and fell again in a
+  heap at Jondo's feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Things were stirrin'" there, as Aunty Boone had said, but withal
+  there was no disorder. Esmond Clarenden never did business in
+  that way. No loose ends flapped about his rigging, and when a
+  piece of work was finished with him, there was nothing left to
+  clear away. Bill Banney, the big grown-up boy from Kentucky, who,
+  out of love of adventure, had recently come to the fort, was
+  helping Jondo with the packing of certain goods. Mat and Beverly
+  were perched on the counter, watching all that was being done and
+  hearing all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter, little plainsman?" Jondo cried, catching me
+  up and setting me on the counter. "Got a thorn in your shoe, or a
+  stone-bruise, or a chilblain?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I slipped out there behind a soldier on horseback, right in
+  front of a little old Mexican who was just whirling off to the
+  river," I said, the tears blinding my eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, he's turned his ankle! Looks like it was swelling already,"
+  Mat Nivers declared, as she slid from the counter and ran toward
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's a bad job," Jondo declared. "Just when we want to get off,
+  too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't I go with you to Santa F&eacute;, Uncle Esmond?" I
+  wailed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Gail, we'll fix you up all right," my uncle said, but his
+  face was grave as he examined my ankle.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a bad job, much worse than any of us had thought at first.
+  And as they all gathered round me I suddenly noticed the same
+  Mexican standing in the doorway, and I heard some one, I think it
+  was Uncle Esmond, say:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, you'd better take Gail over to the surgeon right away--"
+  His voice trailed off somewhere and all was blank nothingness to
+  me. But my last impression was that my uncle stayed behind with
+  the strange Mexican.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the excitement everybody forgot that I had on neither hat nor
+  coat as they carried me through the raw wet air to the army
+  surgeon's quarters beyond the soldiers' barracks.<br>
+  <br>
+  A chill and fever followed, and for a week there was only pain
+  and trouble for me. Nothing else hurt quite so deeply, however,
+  as the fear of being left behind when the Clarendens should start
+  for Santa F&eacute;. I would ask no questions, and nobody
+  mentioned the trip, for which everything was preparing. I began
+  at last to have a dread of being left in the night, of wakening
+  some morning to find only Mat and myself with Aunty Boone in the
+  little log house. Uncle Esmond had already been away for three
+  days, but nobody told me where he had gone, nor why he went, nor
+  when he would come back. It kept me awake at night, and the loss
+  of sleep made me nervous and feverish.<br>
+  <br>
+  One afternoon about a week after my accident, when Beverly and
+  Mat were putting the room in order and chattering like a couple
+  of squirrels, Beverly said, carelessly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, it's been a half a week since Uncle Esmond went down to
+  our other store in Independence, and we are going to start on our
+  trip just as soon as he gets back, unless he sends for me and
+  Jondo."<br>
+  <br>
+  I knew that he was trying to tell me that they meant to go
+  without me, for he hurried out with the last words. No boy wants
+  to talk to a disappointed boy, and I had to clinch my teeth hard
+  to keep back the tears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to get well quicker, Mat. I want to go to Santa F&eacute;
+  with Beverly," I wailed, making a desperate effort to get out of
+  bed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You cuddle right down there, Gail Clarenden, if you want to get
+  well at all. If you're real careful you'll be all right in a day
+  or two. Let's wait for Uncle Esmond to come home before we start
+  any worries."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was in her voice, girl or woman, that comforting note that
+  could always soothe me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat, won't you try to get them to let me go?" I pleaded.<br>
+  <br>
+  She made no promises, but busied herself with getting my foot
+  into its place again, singing softly to herself all the while.
+  Then she read me stories from our few story-books till I fell
+  asleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was twilight when I wakened. Where I lay I could hear Esmond
+  Clarenden and Aunty Boone talking in the kitchen, and I listened
+  eagerly to all they said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But it's no place for a woman," my uncle was urging,
+  gravely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I ain't a woman, I'm a cook. You want cooks if you eats. Mat
+  ain't a woman, she's a girl. But she's stronger 'n Beverly. If
+  you can't leave him, how can you leave her? An' Gail never get
+  well if he's left here, Cla'n'den, now he's got the goin' fever.
+  Never! An' if you never got back--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't believe he would get well, either." Then Uncle Esmond
+  spoke lower and I could not hear any more.<br>
+  <br>
+  Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing
+  in together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in
+  with them, and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all going to Santa F&eacute; over the long trail. Every
+  last gun of us. Aunty Boone, and Mat, and you, and me, and Jondo,
+  and Uncle Esmond, rag-tag and bobtail. Whoop-ee-diddle-dee!"
+  Beverly threw up his cap, and, catching Mat by the arms, they
+  whirled around the room together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who says so, Bev?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them as knows and bosses everything in this world. Jondo told
+  me, and he's just the boss's shadow. Now guess who," Beverly
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's all true, Gail," Mat assured me. "Esmond Clarenden
+  <i>is</i> going to Santa F&eacute; in spite of 'war, pestilence,
+  famine, and sword,' as my <i>History of the World</i> says, and
+  he <i>is</i> going to take son Beverly, and son Gail to watch son
+  Beverly; and Miss Mat Nivers to watch both of them and shoo
+  Indians away; and Aunt Daniel Boone to scare the Mexicans into
+  the Gulf of California, if they act ugly, see!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She capered about the room, and as she passed me she stooped and
+  patted me on the forehead. I didn't want her to do that. I had
+  taken a long jump away from little-boy-dom a week ago, but I was
+  supremely content now that all of us were to take the long trail
+  together.<br>
+  <br>
+  That evening while Mat and Beverly went to look after some
+  fishing-lines they had set--Mat and Bev were always going
+  fishing--and Jondo was down at the store, the officer in command
+  of the fort came in. He paid no attention to me lying there, all
+  eyes and ears whenever shoulder-straps were present.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did you decide to do about the trip to Santa F&eacute;?" he
+  asked, as he tipped back in his chair and settled down to cigars
+  and an evening chat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We shall be leaving on the boat in the morning," my uncle
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The colonel's chair came down with a crack. "You don't mean it!"
+  he exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I told you a week ago that I would be starting as soon as
+  possible," Esmond Clarenden said, quietly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, man, the war is raging, simply raging, down in Mexico right
+  now. Our division will be here to commence drill in a few weeks,
+  and we start for the border in a few months. You are mad to take
+  such a risk." The commander's voice rose.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must go, that's all!" my uncle insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We? We? Who the devil are 'we'? None of my companies mutinied, I
+  hope."<br>
+  <br>
+  The words did not sound like a joke, and there was little humor
+  in the grim face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'We' means Jondo, Banney, a young fellow from Kentucky--" Uncle
+  Esmond began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Humph! Banney's father carried a gun at Fort Dearborn in 1812. I
+  thought that young fellow came here for military service," the
+  colonel commented, testily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rather say he came for adventure," Esmond Clarenden
+  suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'll get a deuced lot of it in a hurry, if you persuade him off
+  with you."<br>
+  <br>
+  A flush swept over Esmond Clarenden's face, but his good-natured
+  smile did not fail as he replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't persuade anybody. The rest of the company are my two
+  nephews and the little girl, my ward, with our cook, Daniel
+  Boone, as commander-in-chief of the pots and pans and any Indian
+  meat foolish enough to fall in her way."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then came the explosion. Powder would have cost less than the
+  energy blown off there. The colonel stamped and swore, and sprang
+  to his feet in opposition, and flung himself down in disgust.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Women and children!" he gasped. "Why do you sacrifice helpless
+  innocent ones?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Aunty Boone strode in carrying a log of wood as big as
+  a man's body, which she deftly threw on the fire. As the flame
+  blazed high she gave one look at the young officer sitting before
+  it, and then walked out as silently and sturdily as she had
+  entered. It was such a look as a Great Dane dog full of
+  superiority and indifference might have given to a terrier puppy,
+  and from where I lay I thought the military man's face took on a
+  very strange expression.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I 'sacrifice my innocent ones,'" my uncle answered the query,
+  "because they will be safer with me than anywhere else. Young as
+  they are, there are some forces against them already."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, you are going to a perilous place, over a most perilous
+  trail, in a most perilous time of national affairs, to meet such
+  treacherously villainous men as New Mexico offers in her
+  market-places right now? And all for the sake of the commerce of
+  the plains? Why do you take such chances to do business with such
+  people, Clarenden?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden had been staring at the burning logs in the big
+  fireplace during this conversation. He turned now and faced the
+  young army officer squarely as he said in that level tone that we
+  children had learned long ago was final:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Colonel, I'd go straight to hell and do business with the devil
+  himself if I had any business dealings with him."<br>
+  <br>
+  The colonel's face fell. Slowly he relighted his cigar, and
+  leaned back again in his chair, and with that diplomacy that
+  covers a skilful retreat he said, smilingly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If any man west of the Missouri River ever could do that it
+  would be you, Clarenden. By the holy Jerusalem, the military lost
+  one grand commander when you chose a college instead of West
+  Point, and the East lost one well-bred gentleman from its circles
+  of commerce and culture when you elected to do business on the
+  old Santa F&eacute; Trail instead of Broadway. But I reckon the
+  West will need just such men as you long after the frontier fort
+  has become a central point in the country's civilized area. And,
+  blast you, Clarenden, blast your very picture! No man can help
+  liking you. Not even the devil if he had the chance. Not one man
+  in ten thousand would dare to make that trip right now. You've
+  got the courage of a colonel and the judgment of a judge. Go to
+  Santa F&eacute;! We may meet you coming back. If we do, and you
+  need us, command us!"<br>
+  <br>
+  He gave a courteous salute, and the two began to talk of other
+  things; among them the purposes that were bringing young men
+  westward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So Banney, right out of old blue-grassy Kentucky, is going to
+  back out of here and go with you," the colonel remarked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've hired him to drive one team. It's a lark for him, but the
+  army would be a lark just the same," Esmond Clarenden declared.
+  "He says he is to kill rattlesnakes and Mexicans, while Jondo
+  kills Indians and I sit tight on top of the bales of goods to
+  keep the wind from blowing them away. And the boys are to be made
+  bridle-wise, <i>plains-broke</i> for future freighting. That's
+  all that life means to him right now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I do not know what else was said, nor what I heard and what I
+  dreamed after that. If this journey meant a lark to a grown-up
+  boy, it meant a pilgrimage through fairyland to a young boy like
+  myself.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so the new life opened to us; and if the way was fraught with
+  hardship and danger, it also taught us courage and endurance. Nor
+  must we be measured by the boy life of to-day. Children lived the
+  grown-up life then. It was all there was for them to live.<br>
+  <br>
+  The yellow Missouri boiled endlessly along by the foot of the
+  bluff. The flag flapped broadly in the strong breeze that blew in
+  from the west; the square log house--the only home we had ever
+  known--looked forlornly after us, with its two front windows with
+  blinds half drawn, like two half-closed, watching eyes; the
+  cottonwoods and elms, the tiny storehouse--everything--grew
+  suddenly very dear to us. The fort buildings throwing long
+  shadows in the early morning, the level-topped forests east of
+  the Missouri River, and the budding woodland that overdraped the
+  ravines to the west, even in their silence, seemed like sentient
+  things, loving us, as we loved them.<br>
+  <br>
+  We children had gone all over the place before sunrise and
+  touched everything, in token of good-by; from some instinct
+  tarrying longest at the flagpole, where we threw kisses to the
+  great, beautiful banner high above us. Now, at the moment of
+  leaving all these familiar things of all our years, a choking
+  pain came to our throats. Mat's eyes filled with tears and she
+  looked resolutely forward. Beverly and I clutched hands and shut
+  our teeth together, determined to overcome this home-grip on our
+  hearts. Aunty Boone sat in a corner of the deck as the boat swung
+  out into the stream, her eyes dull and unseeing. She never spoke
+  of her thoughts, but I have wondered often, since that big day of
+  my young years, if she might not have recalled other voyages: the
+  slave-ship putting out to sea with the African shores fading
+  behind her; and the big river steamer at the New Orleans dock
+  where brutal hands had hurled her from the deck into the
+  dangerous floods of the Mississippi. This was her third voyage, a
+  brief run from Fort Leavenworth to Independence. She was apart
+  from her fellow-passengers as in the other two, but now nobody
+  gave her a curse, nor a blow. <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <a name="III" id="III">III</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE WIDENING HORIZON</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    Whose furthest footsteps never strayed<br>
+      Beyond the village of his birth,<br>
+    Is but a lodger for the night<br>
+      In this old Wayside Inn of Earth.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The broad green prairies of the West roll back in huge billows
+  from the Missouri bluffs, and ripple gently on, to melt at last
+  into the level grassy plains sloping away to the foothills of the
+  Rocky Mountains. Up and down these land-waves, and across these
+  ripples, the old Santa F&eacute; Trail, the slender pathway of a
+  wilderness-bridging commerce, led out toward the great
+  Southwest--a thousand weary miles--to end at last, where the
+  narrow thoroughfare reached the primitive hostelry at the corner
+  of the plaza in the heart of the capital of a Spanish-Mexican
+  demesne.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange old highway, tying the western frontier of a
+  new, self-reliant American civilization to the eastern limit of
+  an autocratic European offshoot, grafted upon an ancient Indian
+  stock of the Western Hemisphere. In language, nationality, social
+  code, political faith, and prevailing spiritual creed, the
+  terminals of this highway were as unlike as their geographical
+  naming. For the trail began at <i>Independence</i>, in Missouri,
+  and ended at Santa F&eacute;, the "<i>City of the Holy
+  Faith</i>," in New Mexico.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little trading town of Independence was a busy place in the
+  frontier years of the Middle West. Ungentle and unlovely as it
+  was, it was the great gateway between the river traffic on the
+  one side, and the plains commerce of the far Southwest on the
+  other. At the wharf at Westport, only a few miles away, the
+  steamers left their cargoes of flour and bacon, coffee and
+  calicoes, jewelry and sugar--whatever might have a market value
+  to merchants beyond the desert lands. And here these same
+  steamers took on furs, and silver bullion, and such other produce
+  of the mountains and mines and open plains as the opulently laden
+  caravans had toiled through long days, overland, to bring to the
+  river's wharf.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-day the same old gateway stands as of yore. But it may be
+  given only to men who have seen what I have seen, to know how
+  that our Kansas City, the Beautiful, could grow up from that old
+  wilderness outpost of commerce threescore and more years ago.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Clarenden store was the busiest spot in the center of this
+  busy little town. Goods from both lines of trade entered and
+  cleared here. In front of the building three Conestoga wagons
+  with stout mule teams stood ready. A fourth wagon, the Dearborn
+  carriage of that time, filled mostly with bedding, clothing, and
+  the few luxuries a long camping-out journey may indulge in,
+  waited only for a team, and we would be off to the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and Bill Banney were busy with the last things to be done
+  before we started. Aunty Boone sat on a pile of pelts inside the
+  store, smoking her pipe. Beverly and Mat stood waiting in the big
+  doorway, while I sat on a barrel outside, because my ankle was
+  still a bit stiff. A crowd had gathered before the store to see
+  us off. It was not such a company as the soldier-men at the fort.
+  The outlaw, the loafer, the drunkard, the ruffian, the gambler,
+  and the trickster far outnumbered the stern-faced men of affairs.
+  When the balance turns the other way the frontier disappears.
+  Mingling with these was a pale-faced invalid now and then, with
+  the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled
+  with men.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle
+  Esmond hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know,
+  but he rigged this littler wagon out in a twinkle."<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us
+  children are to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the
+  driving," Mat added.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he
+  replied. "I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm
+  in a hurry."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They
+  tell me things look squally out West."<br>
+  <br>
+  "All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
+  returned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of
+  more mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving
+  class who sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They
+  are all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  Women and children did not cross the plains in those days, nor
+  could public welfare allow that so valuable a piece of property
+  as Aunty Boone would be in the slave-market should be lost to
+  commerce, and the storm of protest that followed would have
+  overcome a less determined man. It was not on account of sympathy
+  for the weak and defenseless that called out all this abuse, but
+  the lawless spirit that stirs up a mob on the slightest
+  excuse.<br>
+  <br>
+  I slid away to the door, where, with Mat and Beverly, I watched
+  Esmond Clarenden, who was listening with his good-natured smile
+  to all of that loud street talk.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No man's life is insurable in these troublesome times, with our
+  troops right now down in Mexico," a suave Southern trader urged.
+  "Better sell your slave and put that nice little gal in a
+  boardin'-school somewhere in the South."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll give you a mighty good bargain for that wench, Clarenden.
+  She might be worth a clare fortune in New Orleans. What d'ye say
+  to a cool thousand?" another man declared, with a slow. Southern
+  drawl.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone took the pipe from her lips and looked at the
+  stranger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Y'would!" she grunted, stretching her big right hand across her
+  lap, like a huge paw with claws ready underneath.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them plains Injuns never was more <i>hostile</i> than they air
+  right now. I just got in from the mountains an' I know. An'
+  they're bein' set on by more <i>hostile</i> Mexican devils, and
+  political <i>intrigs</i>," a bearded mountaineer trapper
+  argued.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Sides all that," interposed the suave Southern gentleman, "it's
+  too early in the spring. Freightin's bound to be delayed by
+  rains--and a nice little gal with only a nigger--" He was not
+  quite himself, and he did not try to say more.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Seems like some of these gentlemen consider you are some sort of
+  a fool," a tall, lean Yankee youth observed, as he listened to
+  the babble.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had climbed back on the barrel again to see the crowd better,
+  and I stared at the last speaker. His voice was not unpleasant,
+  but he appeared pale and weak and spiritless in that company of
+  tanned, rugged men. Evidently he was an invalid in search of
+  health. We children had seen many invalids, from time to time, at
+  the fort harmless folk, who came to fuss, and stayed to flourish,
+  in our gracious land of the open air.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a dam' fool," roared a big drunken loafer from the edge
+  of the crowd. "An' I'd lick you in a minnit if you das step into
+  the middle of the street onct. Ornery sneak, to take innocent
+  children into such perils. Come on out here, I tell ye!"<br>
+  <br>
+  A growl followed these words. Many men in that company were less
+  than half sober, and utterly irresponsible.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Le's jes' hang the fool storekeepin' gent right now; an' make a
+  free-fur-all holiday. I'll begin," the drunken ruffian bawled. He
+  was of the sort that always leads a mob.<br>
+  <br>
+  The growl deepened, for blood-lust and drunkenness go
+  together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Terrified for my uncle's safety, I stood breathless, staring at
+  the evil-faced crowd of men going suddenly mad, without excuse.
+  At the farthest edge of the insipient mob, sitting on his horse
+  and watching my uncle's face intently, was the very Mexican whom
+  I had twice seen at Fort Leavenworth. At the drunken rowdy's
+  challenge, I thought that he half-lifted a threatening hand. But
+  Esmond Clarenden only smiled, with a mere turn of his head as if
+  in disapproval. In that minute I learned my first lesson in
+  handling ruffians. I knew that my uncle was not afraid, and
+  because of that my faith in his power to take care of himself
+  came back.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to leave here in half an hour. If you have any good
+  plains-broke mules you will sell for cash, I can do business with
+  you right now. If not, the sooner you leave this place the
+  better."<br>
+  <br>
+  He lifted his small, shapely hand unclenched, his good-natured
+  smile and gentlemanly bearing unchanged, but his low voice was
+  stronger than all the growls of the crowd that fell back like
+  whipped dogs.<br>
+  <br>
+  As he spoke a horse-dealer, seeing the gathering before the
+  store, came galloping up.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm your man. Money talks so I can understand it. Wait five
+  minutes and ten seconds and I'll bring a whole strand of
+  mules."<br>
+  <br>
+  A rattling of wagons and roar of voices at the far end of the
+  street told of the arrival of a company coming in from the wharf
+  at Westport, and the crowd whirled about and made haste toward
+  the next scene of interest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Only two men remained behind, the tall New England youth and the
+  Mexican on the farther side of the street sitting motionless on
+  his horse. A moment later he was gone, and the street was empty
+  save for the pale-faced invalid who had come over to the doorway
+  where Mat and Beverly and I waited together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why don't you youngsters stay home with your mother, or is she
+  going with you?" he asked, a gleam of interest lighting his dull
+  face as he looked at Mat Nivers.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We haven't any of us got a mother," Mat replied, timidly,
+  lifting her gray eyes to his.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mother! Ain't you all one family?" the young man questioned in
+  surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, we are three orphan children that Uncle Esmond has adopted
+  all our lives, I guess." Beverly informed him.<br>
+  <br>
+  A wave of sympathy swept over his face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You poor, lonely, unhappy cubs! You've never had a mother to
+  love you!" he exclaimed, in kindly pity.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We aren't poor nor lonely nor unhappy. We have always had Uncle
+  Esmond and we didn't need a mother," I exclaimed, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man stared at me as I spoke. "What's he, a bachelor or
+  married man?" he inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He couldn't be married and keep us, I reckon, and he's taking us
+  with him so nothing will happen to us while he's gone. He's
+  really truly Bev's uncle and mine, but he's just the same as
+  uncle to Mat, who hasn't anybody else," I declared,
+  enthusiastically. Uncle Esmond was my pride, and I meant that he
+  should be fully appreciated.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Yankee gazed at all three of us, his eyes resting longest on
+  Mat's bright face. The listlessness left his own that minute and
+  a new light shone on his countenance. But when he turned to my
+  uncle the seeming lack of all interest in living returned to his
+  face again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say," he drawled, looking down at the stubborn little merchant
+  from his slim six feet of altitude, "you are such a dam' fool as
+  our friend, the tipsy one, says, that I believe I'll go along
+  'cross the plains with you, if you'll let me. I've not got a
+  darned thing to lose out there but a sick carcass that I'm pretty
+  tired of looking after," he went on, wearily. "I reckon I might
+  as well see the fun through if I never set a hoof on old Plymouth
+  Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at Lexington. Say"--he
+  paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the bean-eaters
+  who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth, there
+  wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
+  tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men
+  myself make the same claim. But my granddad was the real article
+  in the minute-men business. And I've always admired his grit most
+  of any man in the world. He was about your shape, I reckon, from
+  his picture that old man Copley got out. But, man! he wasn't a
+  patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the preposterous-est
+  unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just straight
+  murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
+  plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico,
+  and I like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If
+  you will, I'll deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've
+  got only a little wad of money to get well on or die on. I can
+  spend it either way--not much difference which. My name is Krane,
+  Rex Krane, and in spite of such a floopsy name I hail from
+  Boston, U.S.A."<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth,
+  redeemed only by the twinkle in his eye.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated
+  men easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want
+  to turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles
+  or more on the trail. You can try it that far and see how you
+  like it. I'll furnish you your board. There are always plenty of
+  bedrooms on the ground floor and in one of the wagons on rainy
+  nights. You can take a shift driving a team now and then, and
+  every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some of the time. You
+  understand the dangers of the situation by this time. Here comes
+  my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a string
+  of mules up the street.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the
+  bargain was closed.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and
+  Aunty Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
+  Clarenden replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the
+  crowd had been. The foolish risk of losing so valuable a piece of
+  property as Daniel Boone ought to be in the slave-market taxed
+  his powers of understanding, profanity, and abuse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cussin' solid, an' in streaks," Aunty Boone chuckled, softly, as
+  she listened to him unmoved.<br>
+  <br>
+  Equally unmoved was Esmond Clarenden. But his genial smile and
+  diplomatic power of keeping still did not prevent him from being
+  as set as the everlasting hills in his own purpose.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This here critter is all I'll sell you," the trader declared at
+  last, pulling a big white-eyed dun animal out of the group. "An'
+  nobody's goin' to drive her easy."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take it," Uncle Esmond said, promptly, and the
+  vicious-looking beast was brought to where Aunty Boone stood
+  beside the wagon-tongue.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a clear case of hate at first sight, for the mule began to
+  plunge and squeal the instant it saw her. The woman hesitated not
+  a minute, but lifting her big ham-like foot, she gave it one
+  broadside kick that it must have mistaken for a thunderbolt, and
+  in that low purr of hers, that might frighten a jungle tiger, she
+  laid down the law of the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You tote me to Santy Fee, or be a dead mule. Take yo' choice
+  right now! Git up!"<br>
+  <br>
+  For fifty days the one dependable, docile servant of the
+  Clarendens was the big dun mule, as gentle and kitten-like as a
+  mule can be.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so, in spite of opposing conditions and rabble protest and
+  doleful prophecy and the assurance of certain perils, we turned
+  our faces toward the unfriendly land of the sunset skies, the
+  open West of my childish day-dreams.<br>
+  <br></p>
+
+  <p class="ctr"><span>   <font size="5">          *
+  *          *          *          *</font>        </span></p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The prairies were splashed with showers and the warm black soil
+  was fecund with growths as our little company followed the
+  windings of the old trail in that wondrous springtime of my own
+  life's spring. There were eight of us: Clarenden, the merchant;
+  Jondo, the big plainsman; Bill Banney, whom love of adventure had
+  lured from the blue grass of Kentucky to the prairie-grass of the
+  West; Rex Krane, the devil-may-care invalid from Boston; and the
+  quartet of us in the "baby cab," as Beverly had christened the
+  family wagon. Uncle Esmond had added three swift ponies to our
+  equipment, which Jondo and Bill found time to tame for riding as
+  we went along.<br>
+  <br>
+  We met wagon-trains, scouts, and solitary trappers going east,
+  but so far as we knew our little company was the only
+  westward-facing one on all the big prairies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's just like living in a fairy-story, isn't it, Gail?" Beverly
+  said to me one evening, as we rounded a low hill and followed a
+  deep little creek down to a shallow fording-place. "All we want
+  is a real princess and a real giant. Look at these big trees all
+  you can, for Jondo says pretty soon we won't see trees at
+  all."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe we'll have Indians instead of giants," I suggested. "When
+  do you suppose we'll begin to see the real <i>bad</i> Indians;
+  not just Osages and Kaws and sneaky little Otoes and Pot'wat'mies
+  like we've seen all our lives?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sooner than we expect," Beverly replied. "Could Mat Nivers ever
+  be a real princess, do you reckon?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know she won't," I said, firmly, the vision of that fateful
+  day at Fort Leavenworth coming back as I spoke--the vision of
+  level green prairies, with gray rocks and misty mountain peaks
+  beyond. And somewhere, between green prairies and misty peaks, a
+  sweet child face with big dark eyes looking straight into mine. I
+  must have been a dreamer. And in my young years I wondered often
+  why things should be so real to me that nobody else could ever
+  understand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I used to think long ago at the fort that I'd marry Mat some
+  day," Beverly said, reminiscently, as if he were looking across a
+  lapse of years instead of days.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So did I," I declared. "But I don't want to now. Maybe our
+  princess will be at the end of the trail, Bev, a real princess.
+  Still, I love Mat just as if she were my sister," I hastened to
+  add.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So do I," Beverly responded, heartily.<br>
+  <br>
+  A little grain of pity for her loss of prestige was mingling with
+  our subconscious feeling of a need for her help in the day of the
+  giant, if not in the reign of the princess.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were trudging along behind our wagon toward the camping-place
+  for the night, which lay beyond the crossing of the stream. We
+  had lived much out of doors at Fort Leavenworth, but the real out
+  of doors of this journey was telling on us already in our sturdy,
+  up-leaping strength, to match each new hardship. We ate like
+  wolves, slept like dead things, and forgot what it meant to be
+  tired. And as our muscles hardened our minds expanded. We were no
+  longer little children. Youth had set its seal upon us on the day
+  when our company had started out from Independence toward the
+  great plains of the Middle West. Little care had we for the
+  responsibility and perils of such a journey; and because our
+  thoughts were buoyant our bodies were vigorous.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our camp that night was under wide-spreading elm-trees whose
+  roots struck deep in the deep black loam. After supper Mat and
+  Beverly went down to fish in the muddy creek. Fishing was
+  Beverly's sport and solace everywhere. I was to follow them as
+  soon as I had finished my little chores. The men were scattered
+  about the valley and the camp was deserted. Something in the
+  woodsy greenness of the quiet spot made it seem like home to
+  me--the log house among the elms and cottonwoods at the fort. As
+  I finished my task I wondered how a big, fine house such as I had
+  seen in pictures would look nestled among these beautiful trees.
+  I wanted a home here some day, a real home. It was such a
+  pleasant place even in its loneliness.<br>
+  <br>
+  To the west the ground sloped up gently toward the horizon-line,
+  shutting off the track of the trail beyond the ridge. A sudden
+  longing came over me to see what to-morrow's journey would offer,
+  bringing back the sense of being <i>shut in</i> that had made me
+  lose interest in fishes that wouldn't play leap-frog on the
+  sand-bars. And with it came a longing to be alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Instead of following Mat and Beverly to the creek I went out to
+  the top of the swell and stood long in the April twilight,
+  looking beyond the rim of the valley toward the darkening
+  prairies with the great splendor of the sunset's afterglow
+  deepening to richest crimson above the purpling shadows.<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, many a time since that night have I looked upon the Kansas
+  plains and watched the grandeur of coloring that only the
+  Almighty artist ever paints for human eyes. And always I come
+  back, in memory, to that April evening. The soul of a man must
+  have looked out through the little boy's eyes on that night, and
+  a new mile-stone was set there, making a landmark in my life
+  trail. For when I turned toward the darkening east and the
+  shadowy camp where the evening fires gleamed redly in the dusk, I
+  knew then, as well as I know now, if I could only have put it
+  into words, that I was not the same little boy who had run up the
+  long slope to see what lay next in to-morrow's journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  I walked slowly back to the camp and sat down beside Esmond
+  Clarenden.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What are you thinking about, Gail?" he asked, as I stared at the
+  fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wish I knew what would happen next," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo was lying at full length on the grass, his elbow bent, and
+  his hand supporting his head. What a wonderful head it was with
+  its crown of softly curling brown hair!<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wonder if we have done wrong by the children, Clarenden," the
+  big plainsman said, slowly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond shook his head as he replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can't believe it. They may not be safe with us, but we know
+  they would not have been safe without us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Beverly and Mat came racing up from the creek bank.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let us stay up awhile," Mat pleaded. "Maybe we'll be less
+  trouble some of these days if we hear you talk about what's
+  coming."<br>
+  <br>
+  "They are right, Jondo. Gail here wants to know what is coming
+  next, and Mat wants a share in our councils. What do you want,
+  Beverly?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to practise shooting on horseback. I can hit a mark now
+  standing still. I want to do it on the run," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can see now the earnest look in Esmond Clarenden's eyes as he
+  listened. I've seen it in a mother's eyes more than once since
+  then, as she kissed her eldest-born and watched it toddle off
+  alone on its first day of school; or held her peace, when,
+  breaking home ties, the son of her heart bade her good-by to
+  begin life for himself in the world outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last light of day was lost over the western ridge. The moon
+  was beginning to swell big and yellow through the trees. Twilight
+  was darkening into night. Bill Banney and Rex Krane had joined us
+  now, for every hour we were learning to keep closer together.
+  Jondo threw more wood on the fire, and we nestled about it in
+  snug, homey fashion as if we were to listen to a
+  fairy-tale--three children slipping fast out of childhood into
+  the stern, hard plains life that tried men's souls. As we
+  listened, the older men told of the perils as well as the
+  fascinating adventures of trail life, that we might understand
+  what lay before us in the unknown days. And then they told us
+  stories of the plains, and of the quaint historic things of Santa
+  F&eacute;; of El Palacio, home of all the Governors of New
+  Mexico; an Indian pueblo first, it may have been standing there
+  when William the Norman conquered Harold of the Saxon dynasty of
+  England; or further back when Charlemagne was hanging heathen by
+  the great great gross to make good Christians of them; or even
+  when old Julius C&aelig;sar came and saw and conquered, on either
+  side of the Rubicon, this same old structure may have sheltered
+  rulers in a world unknown. They told us of the old, old church of
+  San Miguel, a citadel for safety from the savage foes of Spain, a
+  sanctuary ever for the sinful and sorrowing ones. And of the
+  Plaza--sacred ground whereon by ceremonial form had been
+  established deeds that should change the destinies of tribes and
+  shape the trend of national pride and power in a new continent.
+  And of La Garita, place of execution, facing whose blind wall the
+  victims of the Spanish rule made their last stand, and, helpless,
+  fell pierced by the bullets of the Spanish soldiery.<br>
+  <br>
+  And we children looked into the dying camp-fire and builded there
+  our own castles in Spain, and hoped that that old flag to which
+  we had thrown good-by kisses such a little while ago would one
+  day really wave above old Santa F&eacute; and make it ours to
+  keep. For, young as we were, the flag already symbolized to us
+  the protecting power of a nation strong and gentle and
+  generous.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The first and last law of the trail is to 'hold fast,'" Jondo
+  said, as we broke up the circle about the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you can keep that law we will take you into full partnership
+  to-night," Esmond Clarenden added, and we knew that he meant what
+  he said. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="IV" id="IV">IV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE MAN IN THE DARK</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  A stone's throw from either hand,<br>
+  From that well-ordered road we tread,<br>
+  And all the world is wide and strange.<br>
+                                  --KIPLING<br></p>
+
+  <p>"We shall come to the parting of the ways to night if we make
+  good time, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said to the young Bostonian,
+  as we rested at noon beside the trait. "To-night we camp at
+  Council Grove and from there on there is no turning back. I had
+  hoped to find a big crowd waiting to start off from that place.
+  But everybody we have met coming in says that there are no
+  freighters going west now. Usually there is no risk in coming
+  alone from Council Grove to the Missouri River, and there is
+  always opportunity for company at this end of the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  We were sitting in a circle under the thin shade of some
+  cottonwood-trees beside a little stream; the air of noon, hot
+  above our heads, was tempered with a light breeze from the
+  southwest. As my uncle spoke, Rex glanced over at Mat Nivers,
+  sitting beside him, and then gazed out thoughtfully across the
+  stream. I had never thought her pretty before. But now her face,
+  tanned by the sun and wind, had a richer glow on cheek and lip.
+  Her damp hair lay in little wavelets about her temples, and her
+  big, sunny, gray eyes were always her best feature.<br>
+  <br>
+  Girls made their own dresses on the frontier, and I suppose that
+  anywhere else Mat would have appeared old-fashioned in the neat,
+  comfortable little gowns of durable gingham and soft woolen
+  stuffs that she made for herself. But somehow in all that long
+  journey she was the least travel-soiled of the whole party.<br>
+  <br>
+  At my uncle's words she looked up questioningly and I saw the
+  bloom deepen on her cheek as she met the young man's eyes.
+  Somebody else saw that shadow of a blush--Bill Banney lying on
+  the ground beside me, and although he pulled his hat cautiously
+  over his face, I thought he was listening for the answer.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young New-Englander stared long at the green prairie before
+  he spoke. I never knew whether it was ignorance, or a lack of
+  energy, that was responsible for his bad grammar in those early
+  days, for Rex Krane was no sham invalid. The lines on his young
+  face told of suffering, and the thin, bony hands showed bodily
+  weakness. At length he turned to my uncle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I started out sort of reckless on this trip," he said, slowly.
+  "I'm nearly twenty and never been worth a dang to anybody
+  anywhere on God's earth; so I thought I might as well be where
+  things looked interestin'. But"--he hesitated--"I'm gettin' a lot
+  stronger every day, a whole lot stronger. Mebby I'd be of some
+  use afterwhile--I don't know, though. I reckon I'd better wait
+  till we get to that Council Grove place. Sounds like a nice
+  locality to rest and think in. Are you goin' on, anyhow,
+  Clarenden, crowd or no crowd?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Though the heavens fall," my uncle answered, simply.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had turned quickly to hear this reply and a great light
+  leaped into his deep-set blue eyes. I glanced over at Aunty
+  Boone, sitting apart from us, as she ever chose to do, her own
+  eyes dull, as they always were when she saw keenest; and I
+  remembered how, back at Fort Leavenworth, she had commented on
+  this journey, saying: "They tote together always, an' they're
+  totin' now." Child though I was, I felt that a something more
+  than the cargo of goods was leading my uncle to Santa F&eacute;.
+  What I did not understand was his motive for taking Beverly and
+  Mat and me with him. I had been satisfied before just to go, but
+  now I wanted very much to know why I was going.<br>
+  <br>
+  Council Grove by the Neosho River was the end of civilization for
+  the freighter. Beyond it the wilderness spread its untamed
+  lengths, and excepting Bent's Fort far up the Arkansas River on
+  the line of the first old trail, rarely followed now, it held not
+  a sign of civilization for the traveler until he should reach the
+  first outposts of the Mexican almost in the shadow of Santa
+  F&eacute;. It is no wonder that wagon-trains mobilized here,
+  waiting for an increase in numbers before they dared to start on
+  westward. And now there were no trains waiting for our coming.
+  Only a gripping necessity could have led a man like Esmond
+  Clarenden to take the trail alone in the certain perils of the
+  plains during the middle '40's. I did not know until long
+  afterward how brave was the loving heart that beat in that little
+  merchant's bosom. A devotee of ease and refinement, he walked the
+  prairie trails unafraid, and made the desert serve his will.<br>
+  <br>
+  The dusk of evening had fallen long before we pitched camp that
+  night under the big oak-trees in the Neosho River valley outside
+  of the little trading-post. Up in the village a light or two
+  gleamed faintly. From somewhere in the darkness came the sound of
+  a violin, mingling with loud talking and boisterous laughter in a
+  distant drinking-den. It would be some time until moon-rise, and
+  the shadowy places thickened to blackness.<br>
+  <br>
+  In fair weather all of us except Mat Nivers slept in the open. On
+  stormy nights the younger men occupied one of the wagons, Jondo
+  and Beverly another, and my uncle and myself the third. Mat had
+  the "baby-cab" as Beverly called it, with Aunty Boone underneath
+  it. The ground was Aunty Boone's kingdom. She sat upon it, ate
+  from it, slept on it, and seemed no more soiled than a snake
+  would be by the contact with it.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Some day I goes plop under it, and be ground myself," she used
+  to say. "Good black soil I make, too," she always added, with her
+  low chuckle.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night we were all in the wagons, for the spring rains had made
+  the Neosho valley damp and muddy. I was just on the edge of
+  dreamless slumber when a low voice that seemed to cut the
+  darkness caught my ear.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cla'nden! Cla'nden!" it hissed, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle slipped noiselessly out to where Aunty Boone stood, her
+  head so near to the canvas wagon-cover inside of which I lay that
+  I could hear all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  She was always a night prowler. What other women learn now from
+  the evening newspaper or from neighborly gossip she, being
+  created without a sense of fear, went forth in her time and
+  gathered at first hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I been prospectin' up 'round the saloon, Cla'nden. They's a
+  nasty mess of Mexicans in town, all gettin' drunk."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then I heard a faint rustle of the bushes and I knew that the
+  woman was slipping away to her place under the wagon. I
+  remembered the Mexican whom I had last seen across the street
+  from the Clarenden store in Independence. These were bad
+  Mexicans, as Aunty Boone had said, and that man had seemed in a
+  silent way a friend of my uncle. I wondered what would happen
+  next. It soon happened. My uncle Esmond came inside the wagon and
+  called, softly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, wake up."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm awake," I replied, in a half-whisper, as alert as a
+  mystery-loving boy could be.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Slip over to Jondo and tell him there are Mexicans in town, and
+  I'm going across the river to see what's up. Tell him to wake up
+  everybody and have them stay in the wagons till I get back."<br>
+  <br>
+  He slid away and the shadows ate him. I followed as far as
+  Jondo's wagon, and gave my message. As I came back something
+  seemed to slip away before me and disappear somewhere. I dived
+  into our wagon and crouched down, waiting with beating heart for
+  Uncle Esmond to come back. Once I thought I heard the sound of a
+  horse's feet on the trail to the eastward, but I was not
+  sure.<br>
+  <br>
+  All was still and black in the little camp for a long time, and
+  then Esmond Clarenden and Rex Krane crept into the wagon and
+  dropped the flap behind them.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, have you decided about this trip yet?" Uncle Esmond
+  asked. "If not, you'd better get right up into town and forget
+  us. You can't be too quick about it, either."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Ain't we going to stay here a few days? Why do you want to know
+  to-night?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane, Yankee-like, met the query with a query.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because there's a pretty strong party of Mexican desperadoes
+  here who are going on east, and they mean trouble for somebody. I
+  shouldn't care to meet them with our strength alone. They are all
+  pretty drunk now and getting wilder every minute. Listen to
+  that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  A yell across the river broke the night stillness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is no telling how soon they may be over here, hunting for
+  us. We must get by them some way, for I cannot risk a fight with
+  them here. Which chance will you choose, the possibility of being
+  overtaken by that Mexican gang going east, or the perils of the
+  plains and the hostility of New Mexico right now? It's about as
+  broad one way as the other for safety, with staying here for a
+  time as the only middle course at present. But that is a
+  perfectly safe one for you."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am going on with you," Rex Krane said, with his slow Yankee
+  drawl. "When danger gets close, then I scatter. There's more
+  chance in seven hundred miles to miss somethin' than there is in
+  a hundred and fifty. And even a half-invalid might be of some
+  use. Say, Clarenden, how'd you get hold of this information? You
+  turned in before I did."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Daniel Boone went out on scout duty--self-elected. You know she
+  considers that the earth was made for her to walk on when she
+  chooses to use it that way. She spied trouble ahead and came
+  back, and gave me the key to the west door of Council Grove so I
+  could get out early," my uncle replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I reckoned as much," Rex declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dark I could feel Esmond Clarenden give a start.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What do you mean?" he inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I saw the fat lady start out, so I followed her, but I
+  located the nest of Mexicans before she did, and got a good deal
+  out of their drunken jargon. And then I cat-footed it back after
+  a snaky-looking, black Spaniard that seemed to be following her.
+  There were three of us in a row, but the devil hasn't got the
+  hindmost one, not yet--that's me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You saw some one follow Daniel into camp?" my uncle broke in,
+  anxiously. But no threatening peril ever hurried Rex Krane's
+  speech.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, and I also followed some one; but I lost him in this
+  ink-well of a hole, and I was waitin' till he left so I could put
+  the cat out, an' shut the door, when you cut across the river.
+  I've been sittin' round now to see that nothin' broke loose till
+  you got back. Meantime, the thing sort of faded away. I heard a
+  horse gallopin' off east, too. Mebby they are outpostin' to
+  surround our retreat. I didn't wake Bill. He's got no more
+  imagination than Bev. If I had needed anybody I'd have stirred up
+  Gail, here."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dark I fairly swelled with pride, and from that moment Rex
+  Krane was added to my little list of heroes that had been made
+  up, so far, of Esmond Clarenden and Jondo and any army officer
+  above the rank of captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, you'll do. I thought I had your correct measure back in
+  Independence," Uncle Esmond said, heartily. "As to the boys, I
+  can risk them; they are Clarendens. My anxiety is for the little
+  orphan girl. She is only a child. I couldn't leave her behind us,
+  and I must not let a hair of her head be harmed."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's a right womanly little thing," Rex Krane said, carelessly;
+  but I wondered if in the dark his eyes might not have had the
+  same look they had had at noon when he turned to Mat sitting
+  beside my uncle. Maybe back at Boston he had a little sister of
+  his own like her. Anyhow, I decided then that men's words and
+  faces do not always agree.<br>
+  <br>
+  Again the roar of voices broke out, and we scrambled from the
+  wagon and quickly gathered our company together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did you find out?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must clear out of here right away and get through to the
+  other side of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing
+  it. They are a gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross
+  the river if we should wait till morning. They have already sent
+  a spy over here, and they are waiting for him to report."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of
+  him went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into
+  nothin' toward the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further
+  words, Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman
+  would put through whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For
+  Aunty Boone was right when she said, "They tote together."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't
+  belong together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And
+  remember now, Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with
+  'em, I'll do it myself," Jondo said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter
+  more," I urged, as we hastily broke camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives
+  for nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned
+  hesitatingly toward Mat Nivers.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no
+  wonder that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity
+  of the plains in those days, when even as children we ran to meet
+  danger with courageous daring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own
+  ford," Jondo commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the
+  northwest side of town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody
+  tries to stop you, ride like fury for the ridge."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me
+  this side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll
+  be gone. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred
+  all of us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you
+  must run make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick
+  man ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to
+  John-the-Baptist this procession and air the parlor
+  bedrooms."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the
+  wagon with me," Bill Banney urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward,
+  and I'm foot-loose. It's my job to give the address of welcome
+  over t'other side of this Mexican settlement."<br>
+  <br>
+  The tall, thin young man slouched his cap carelessly on his head
+  and strode away toward the river. Youth was reckless in those
+  days, and the trail was the home of dramatic opportunity. But
+  none of us had dreamed hitherto of Rex Krane's degree of daring
+  and his stubborn will.<br>
+  <br>
+  The big yellow moon was sailing up from the east; the Neosho
+  glistened all jet and silver over its rough bed; the great
+  shadowy oaks looked ominously after us as we moved out toward the
+  threatening peril before us. Slowly, as though she had time to
+  kill, Aunty Boone sent the brown mule and trusty dun down to the
+  river's rock-bottom ford. Slowly and unconcernedly she climbed
+  the slope and passed up the single street toward the saloon she
+  had already "prospected." Pausing a full minute, she swung toward
+  a far-off cabin light to the south, jogging over the rough ground
+  noisily. The door of the drinking-den was filled with dark faces
+  as the crowd jostled out. Just a lone wagon making its way
+  somewhere about its own business, that was all.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the crowd turned in again three ponies galloped up the street
+  toward the slope leading out to the high level prairies beyond
+  the Neosho valley. But who could guess how furiously three young
+  hearts beat, and how tightly three pairs of young hands clutched
+  the bridle reins as we surged forward, forgetting the advice to
+  keep in the shadow.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just after we had crossed the river, a man on horseback fell in
+  behind us. We quickened our speed, but he gained on us. Before we
+  reached the saloon he was almost even with us, keeping well in
+  the shadow all the while. In the increasing moonlight, making
+  everything clear to the eye, I gave one quick glance over my
+  shoulder and saw that the horseman was a Mexican. I have lived a
+  life so fraught with danger that I should hardly remember the
+  feeling of fear but for the indelible imprint of that one
+  terrified minute in the moonlit street of Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  Two ruffians on watch outside the saloon sprang up with yells.
+  The door burst open and a gang of rowdies fairly spilled out
+  around us. We three on our ponies had the instinctive security on
+  horseback of children born to the saddle, else we should never
+  have escaped from the half-drunken crew. I recall the dust of
+  striking hoofs, the dark forms dodging everywhere, the Mexican
+  rider keeping between us and the saloon door, and most of all I
+  remember one glimpse of Mat Nivers's face with big, staring eyes,
+  and firm-set mouth; and I remember my fleeting impression that
+  she could take care of herself if we could; and over all a sudden
+  shadow as the moon, in pity of our terror, hid its face behind a
+  tiny cloud.<br>
+  <br>
+  When it shone out again we were dashing by separate ways up the
+  steep slope to the west ridge, but, strangely enough, the Mexican
+  horseman with a follower or two had turned away from us and was
+  chasing off somewhere out of sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  Up on top of the bluff, with Rex Krane and Aunty Boone, we
+  watched and waited. The wooded Neosho valley full of inky
+  blackness seemed to us like a bottomless gorge of terror which no
+  moonlight could penetrate. We strained our ears to catch the
+  rattle of the wagons, but the noise from the saloon, coming
+  faintly now and then, was all the sound we could hear save the
+  voices of the night rising up from the river, and the whisperings
+  of the open prairie to the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  In that hour Rex Krane became our good angel.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Keep the law, 'Hold fast'! You made a splendid race of it, and
+  if Providence made that fellow lose you gettin' out, and led him
+  and his gang sideways from you, I reckon she will keep on takin'
+  care of you till Clarenden resumes control, so don't you
+  worry."<br>
+  <br>
+  But for his brave presence the terror of that lonely watch would
+  have been harder than the peril of the street, for he seemed more
+  like a gentle mother than the careless, scoffing invalid of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Midnight came, and the chill of midnight. We huddled together in
+  our wagon and still we waited. Down in the village the lights
+  still burned, and angry voices with curses came to our ears at
+  intervals.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime the three men across the river moved cautiously, hoping
+  that we were safe on the bluff, and knowing that they dared not
+  follow us too rapidly. The wagons creaked and the harness rattled
+  noisily in the night stillness, as slowly, one by one, they
+  lumbered through the darkness across the river and up the bank to
+  the village street. Here they halted and grouped together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must hide out and wait, Clarenden," Jondo counciled. "I
+  hope the ponies and the wagon ahead are safe, but they stirred
+  things up. If we go now we'll all be caught."<br>
+  <br>
+  The three wagons fell apart and halted wide of the trail where
+  the oak-trees made the blackest shade. The minutes dragged out
+  like hours, and the anxiety for the unprotected group on the
+  bluff made the three men frantic to hurry on. But Jondo's
+  patience equaled his courage, and he always took the least risk.
+  It was nearly midnight, and every noise was intensified. If a
+  mule but moved it set up a clatter of harness chains that seemed
+  to fill the valley.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last a horseman, coming suddenly from somewhere, rode swiftly
+  by each shadow-hidden wagon, half pausing at the sound of the
+  mules stamping in their places, and then he hurried up the
+  street.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Three against the crowd. If we must fight, fight to kill," Jondo
+  urged, as the ready firearms were placed for action.<br>
+  <br>
+  In a minute or two the crew broke out of the saloon and filled
+  the moonlit street, all talking and swearing in broken
+  Spanish.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not come yet!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Pedro say they be here to-morrow night!" "We wait till to-morrow
+  night!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And with many wild yells they fell back for a last debauch in the
+  drinking-den.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't understand it," Jondo declared. "That fellow who rode by
+  here ought to have located every son of us, but if they want to
+  wait till to-morrow night it suits me."<br>
+  <br>
+  An hour later, when the village was in a dead sleep, three wagons
+  slowly pulled up the long street and joined the waiting group at
+  the top, and the crossing over was complete.<br>
+  <br>
+  Dawn was breaking as our four wagons, followed by the ponies,
+  crept away in the misty light. As we trailed off into the unknown
+  land, I looked back at the bluff below which nestled the last
+  houses we were to see for seven hundred miles. And there,
+  outlined against the horizon, a Mexican stood watching us. I had
+  seen the same man one day riding up from the ravine southwest of
+  Fort Leavenworth. I had seen him dashing toward the river the
+  next day. I had watched him sitting across the street from the
+  Clarenden store in Independence.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wondered if it might have been this man who had hung about our
+  camp the evening before, and if it might have been this same man
+  who rode between us and the saloon mob, leading the crowd after
+  him and losing us on the side of the bluff. And as we had eluded
+  the Council Grove danger, I wondered what would come next, and if
+  he would be in it. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="V" id="V">V</a><br>
+  <br>
+  WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  "So I draw the world together, link by link."<br>
+                                          --KIPLING.<br></p>
+
+  <p>Day after day we pushed into the unknown wilderness. No
+  wagon-trains passed ours moving eastward. No moccasined track in
+  the dust of the trail gave hint of any human presence near. Where
+  to-day the Pullman car glides in smooth comfort, the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail lay like a narrow brown ribbon on the green
+  desolation of Nature's unconquered domain. Out beyond the region
+  of long-stemmed grasses, into the short-grass land, we pressed
+  across a pathless field-of-the-cloth-of-green, gemmed with
+  myriads of bright blossoms--broad acres on acres that the young
+  years of a coming century should change into great wheat-fields
+  to help fill the granaries of the world. How I reveled in
+  it--that far-stretching plain of flower-starred verdure! It was
+  my world--mine, unending, only softening out into lavender mists
+  that rimmed it round in one unbroken fold of velvety vapor.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we came to the Arkansas River--flat-banked,
+  sand-bottomed, wide, wandering, impossible thing--whose shallow
+  waters followed aimlessly the line of least resistance, back and
+  forth across its bed. Rivers had meant something to me. The big
+  muddy Missouri for Independence and Fort Leavenworth, that its
+  steamers might bring the soldiers, and my uncle's goods to their
+  places. The little rivers that ran into the big ones, to feed
+  their currents for down-stream service. The creeks, that boys
+  might wade and swim and fish, else Beverly would have lived
+  unhappily all his days. But here was a river that could neither
+  fetch nor carry. Nobody lived near it, and it had no deep waters
+  like our beloved, ugly old Missouri. I loved the level prairies,
+  but I didn't like that river, somehow. I felt exposed on its
+  blank, treeless borders, as if I stood naked and defenseless,
+  with no haven of cover from the enemies of the savage plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  The late afternoon was hot, the sky was dust-dimmed, the south
+  wind feverish and strength-sapping. At dawn we had sighted a peak
+  against the western horizon. We were approaching it now--a single
+  low butte, its front a sheer stone bluff facing southward toward
+  the river, it lifted its head high above the silent plains; and
+  to the north it stretched in a long gentle slope back to a
+  lateral rim along the landscape. The trail crept close about its
+  base, as if it would cling lovingly to this one shadow-making
+  thing amid all the open, blaring, sun-bound miles stretching out
+  on either side of it.<br>
+  <br>
+  As Beverly and I were riding in front of Mat's wagon, of which we
+  had elected ourselves the special guardians, Rex Krane came up
+  alongside Bill Banney's team in front of us. The young men were
+  no such hard-and-fast friends as Beverly and I. For some reason
+  they had little to say to each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is that what you call Pike's Peak, Bill?" Rex asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, the mountains are a month away. That's Pawnee Rock, and I'll
+  breathe a lot freer when we get out of sight of that infernal
+  thing," Bill replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's its offense?" Rex inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the peak of perdition, the bottomless pit turned inside
+  out," Bill declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't see the excuse for a rock sittin' out here, sayin'
+  nothin', bein' called all manner of unpleasant names," the young
+  Bostonian insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I reckon you'd find one mighty quick if you ever heard the
+  soldiers at Fort Leavenworth talk about it once. All the
+  plainsmen dread it. Jondo says more men have been killed right
+  around this old stone Sphinx than any other one spot in North
+  America, outside of battle-fields."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Happy thought! Do their ghosts rise up and walk at midnight?
+  Tell me more," Rex urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Nobody walks. Everybody runs. There was a terrible Indian fight
+  here once; the Pawnees in the king-row, and all the hosts of the
+  Midianites, and Hivites, and Jebusites, Kiowa, Comanche, and Kaw,
+  rag-tag and bobtail, trying to get 'em out. I don't know who won,
+  but the citadel got christened Pawnee Rock. It took a fountain
+  filled with blood to do it, though."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane gave a long whistle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe Bill is trying to scare him, Bev," I murmured.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe he's just precious wasting time," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And so," Bill continued, "it came to be a sort of rock of
+  execution where romances end and they die happily ever afterward.
+  The Indians get up there and, being able to read fine print with
+  ease as far away as either seacoast, they can watch any
+  wagon-train from the time it leaves Council Grove over east to
+  Bent's Fort on the Purgatoire Creek out west; and having counted
+  the number of men, and the number of bullets in each man's pouch,
+  they slip down and jump on the train as it goes by. If the men
+  can make it to beat them to the top of the rock, as they do
+  sometimes, they can keep the critters off, unless the Indians are
+  strong enough to keep them up there and sit around and wait till
+  they starve for water, and have to come down. It's a grim old
+  fortress, and never needs a garrison. Indians or white men up
+  there, sometimes they defend and sometimes attack. But it's a bad
+  place always, and on account of having our little girl along--"
+  Bill paused. "A fellow gets to see a lot of country out here," he
+  added.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Banney, just why didn't you join the army? You'd have a chance
+  to see a lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on,"
+  Rex Krane said, meditatively.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
+  likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone
+  please," Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this
+  country the most good. They are useful enough when they are
+  useful, Lord knows. And we'll always need a decent few of 'em
+  around to look after women and children, and invalids," he went
+  on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden that's going to
+  make these prairies worth something one of these days. The men
+  who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
+  That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about
+  army folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight
+  and measure, is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead
+  tired and this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due
+  as soon as it lays a bit, and we would be sort of protected here.
+  A tornado's a giant out in this country, you know."<br>
+  <br>
+  "This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling
+  public, does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of
+  it isn't a bad place to shoot from."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo
+  assured us. "I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got
+  to be careful. This point has a bad reputation, and I naturally
+  begin to <i>feel</i> Indians in the air as soon as I come in
+  sight of it. If we need the law of the trail anywhere, we need it
+  here," he admonished.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of
+  <i>bad</i> Indians, but nothing had happened to us yet, and we
+  could not believe that any danger was near us now, although we
+  were foolishly half hoping that there might be, for the
+  excitement of it.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill.
+  Where would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were
+  getting into camp order for the night.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it
+  had been in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and
+  fishes playing leap-frog.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout
+  lying flat on the top of old Pawnee Rock, up there, lookin'
+  benevolently down at us over the rim of his spectacles right
+  now," Bill replied, as he pulled the corral ropes out of the
+  wagon.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think so?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What Jondo said about his <i>feeling Indians</i>, I guess, but
+  he reads these prairie trails as easy as Robinson Crusoe read
+  Friday's footprints in the sand, and he hasn't read anything in
+  'em yet. Indians don't fight at night, anyhow. That's one good
+  thing. Get hold of that rope, Bev, and pull her up tight," Bill
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Every night our four wagons in camp made a hollow square, with
+  space enough allowed at the corners to enlarge the corral inside
+  for the stock. These corners were securely roped across from
+  wagon to wagon. To-night, however, the corral space was reduced
+  and the quartet of vehicles huddled closer together.<br>
+  <br>
+  At dusk the hot wind came sweeping in from the southwest, a wild,
+  lashing fury, swirling the sand in great spirals from the river
+  bed. Our fire was put out and the blackness of midnight fell upon
+  us. The horses were restless and the mules squealed and stamped.
+  All night the very spirit of fear seemed to fill the air.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just before daybreak a huge black storm-cloud came boiling up out
+  of the southwest, with a weird yellow band across the sky before
+  it. Overhead the stars shed a dim light on the shadowy face of
+  the plains. A sudden whisper thrilled the camp, chilling our
+  hearts within us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Indians near!" We all knew it in a flash.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo, on guard, had caught the sign first. Something creeping
+  across the trail, not a coyote, for it stood upright a moment,
+  then bent again, and was lost in the deep gloom. Jondo had
+  shifted to another angle of the outlook, had seen it again, and
+  again at a third point. It was encircling the camp. Then all of
+  us, except Jondo, began to see moving shapes. He saw nothing for
+  a long time, and our spirits rose again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he
+  stared into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal
+  wind. It's one darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big
+  plainsman replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The
+  trouble is that it is watching now. Everybody lay low. It will
+  come to life again. I hope there's only one of it."<br>
+  <br>
+  We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about
+  and fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.<br>
+  <br>
+  It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
+  Something creeping near, and nearer.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
+  beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung
+  like a weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a
+  form rose from the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both
+  arms toward us. And a low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our
+  ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their
+  foes out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a
+  little girl, no larger than our Mat--and again came the low call.
+  The voice was Indian, the accent Spanish, but the words were
+  English.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come to us!" Esmond Clarenden answered back in a clear, low
+  tone; and slowly and noiselessly the girl approached the
+  camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can feel it all now, although that was many years ago: the soft
+  starlight on the plains; the hot, still air holding its breath
+  against the oncoming tornado; the group of wagons making a deeper
+  shadow in the dull light; beyond us the bold front of old Pawnee
+  Rock, huge and gray in the gloom; our little company standing
+  close together, ready to hurl a shower of bullets if this proved
+  but the decoy of a hidden foe; and the girl with light step
+  drawing nearer. Clad in the picturesque garb of the Southwest
+  Indian, her hair hanging in a great braid over each shoulder, her
+  dark eyes fixed on us, she made a picture in that dusky setting
+  that an artist might not have given to his brush twice in a
+  lifetime on the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  A few feet from us she halted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Throw up your hands!" Jondo commanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  The slim brown arms were flung above the girl's head, and I
+  caught the glint of quaintly hammered silver bracelets, as she
+  stepped forward with that ease of motion that generations of
+  moccasined feet on sand and sod and stone can give.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take me," she cried, pleadingly. "The Mexicans steal me from my
+  people and bring me far away. They meet Kiowa. Kiowa beat me;
+  make me slave."<br>
+  <br>
+  She held up her hands. They were lacerated and bleeding. She
+  slipped the bright blanket from her brown shoulder. It was
+  bruised and swollen.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You go to Santa F&eacute;? Take me. I do you good, not bad."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What would these Kiowas do to us, then?"<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Bill Banney who spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They follow you--kill you."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, cheerful! I wish you were twins," Rex Krane said,
+  softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo lifted his hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me talk to her," he said.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then in her own language he got her story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here we are." He turned to us. "Stolen from her people by the
+  Mexicans, probably the same ones we passed in Council Grove;
+  traded to the Kiowas out here somewhere, beaten, and starved, and
+  held for ransom, or trade to some other tribe. They are over
+  there behind Pawnee Rock. They got sight of us somehow, but they
+  don't intend to bother us. They are on the lookout for a bigger
+  train. She has slipped away while they sleep. If we send her back
+  she will be beaten and made a slave. If we keep her, they will
+  follow us for a fight. They are fifty to our six. What shall we
+  do?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "We don't need any Indians to help us get into trouble. We are
+  sure enough of it without that," Bill Banney declared. "And
+  what's one Indian, anyhow? She's just--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just a little orphan girl like Mat," Rex Krane finished his
+  sentence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Bill frowned, but made no reply.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl was standing outside the corral, listening to all
+  that was said, her face giving no sign of the struggle between
+  hope and despair that must have striven within her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances." Beverly's
+  boyish voice had a defiant tone, for the spirit of adventure was
+  strong within him. The girl turned quickly and a great light
+  leaped into her eyes at the boy's words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Save a life and lose ours. It's not the rule of the plains,
+  but--there's a higher law like that somewhere, Clarenden," Jondo
+  said, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl came swiftly toward Uncle Esmond and stood upright
+  before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will not hide the truth. I go back to Kiowas. They sell me for
+  big treasure. They will not harm you," she said. "I stay with
+  you, they say you steal me, and they come at the first bird's
+  song and kill you every one. They are so many."<br>
+  <br>
+  She stood motionless before him, the seal of grim despair on her
+  young face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your name?" Esmond Clarenden asked. "Po-a-be. In your
+  words, `Little Blue Flower,'" the girl said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then, Little Blue Flower, you must stay with us."<br>
+  <br>
+  She pointed toward the eastern sky where a faint light was
+  beginning to show above the horizon. "See, the day comes!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then we will break camp now," my uncle said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not in the face of this storm, Clarenden," Jondo declared. "You
+  can fight an Indian. You can't do a thing but 'hold fast' in one
+  of these hurricanes."<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was still and hot. The black cloud swept swiftly onward,
+  with the weird yellow glow before it. In the solitude of the
+  plains the trail showed like a ghostly pathway of peril. Before
+  us loomed that grim rock bluff, behind whose crest lay the
+  sleeping band of Kiowas. It was only because they slept that
+  Little Blue Flower could steal away in hope of rescue.<br>
+  <br>
+  Hotter grew the air and darker the swiftly rolling clouds; black
+  and awful stood old Pawnee Rock with the silent menace of its
+  sleeping enemy. In the stillness of the pause before the storm
+  burst we heard Jondo's voice commanding us. With our first care
+  for the frightened stock, we grouped ourselves together as he
+  ordered close under the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly an angry wind leaped out of the sky, beating back the
+  hot dead air with gigantic flails of fury. Then the storm broke
+  with tornado rage and cloudburst floods, and in its track terror
+  reigned. Beverly and I clung together, and, holding a hand of
+  each, Mat Nivers crouched beside us, herself strong in this
+  second test of courage as she had been in the camp that night at
+  Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have never been afraid of storms and I can never understand why
+  timid folk should speak of them as of a living, self-directing
+  force bent purposely on human destruction. I love the splendor of
+  the lightning and the thunder's peal. From our earliest years,
+  Beverly and Mat and I had watched the flood-waters of the
+  Missouri sweep over the bottomlands, and we had heard the winds
+  rave, and the cannonading of the angry heavens. But this mad
+  blast of the prairie storm was like nothing we had ever seen or
+  heard before. A yellow glare filled the sky, a half-illumined,
+  evil glow, as if to hide what lay beyond it. One breathed in fine
+  sand, and tasted the desert dust. Behind it, all copper-green, a
+  broad, lurid band swept up toward the zenith. Under its weird,
+  unearthly light, the prairies, and everything upon them, took on
+  a ghastly hue. Then came the inky-black storm-cloud--long,
+  funnel-shaped, pendulous--and in its deafening roar and the thick
+  darkness that could be felt, and the awful sweep of its
+  all-engulfing embrace, the senses failed and the very breath of
+  life seemed beaten away. The floods fell in streams, hot, then
+  suddenly cold. And then a fusillade of hail bombarded the flat
+  prairies, defenseless beneath the munitions of the heavens. But
+  in all the wild, mad blackness, in the shriek and crash of maniac
+  winds, in the swirl of many waters, and chill and fury of the
+  threshing hail, the law of the trail failed not: "Hold fast." And
+  with our hands gripped in one another's, we children kept the
+  law.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at the moment when destruction seemed upon us, the long
+  swinging cloud--funnel lifted. We heard it passing high above us.
+  Then it dropped against the face of old Pawnee Rock, that must
+  have held the trail law through all the centuries of storms that
+  have beaten against its bold, stern front. One tremendous blast,
+  one crashing boom, as if the foundations of the earth were broken
+  loose, and the thing had left us far behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  Daylight burst upon us in a moment, and the blue heavens smiled
+  down on the clean-washed prairies. No homes, no crops, no
+  orchards were left in ruins in those days to mark the cyclone's
+  wrath on wilderness trails. As the darkness lifted we gathered
+  ourselves together to take hold of life again and to defend
+  ourselves from our human enemy.<br>
+  <br>
+  A shower of arrows from the top of the bluff might rain upon us
+  at any moment, yelling warriors might rush upon us, or a ring of
+  riders encircle us. It was in times like this that I learned how
+  quickly men can get the mastery.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and Esmond Clarenden did not delay a minute in protecting
+  the camp and setting it in order, taking inventory of the lost
+  and searching for the missing. Three of our number, with one of
+  the ponies, were missing.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had crouched in a protected angle at the base of the
+  bluff, and when we found her she was calmly smoking her pipe.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yo' skeered of this little puff?" she queried. "Yo' bettah see a
+  simoon on the desset, then. This here--just a racket. What's come
+  of that little redskin?"<br>
+  <br>
+  She was not to be found. Nor was there any trace of Rex Krane
+  anywhere. In consternation we scanned the prairies far and wide,
+  but only level green distances were about us, holding no sign of
+  life. We lived hours in those watching minutes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly Beverly gave a shout, and we saw Little Blue Flower
+  running swiftly from the sloping side of the bluff toward the
+  camp. Behind her stalked the young New-Englander.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I went up to see what she was in such a hurry for to see," he
+  explained, simply. "I calculated it would be as interestin' to me
+  as to her, and if anything was about to cut loose"--he laid a
+  hand carelessly on his revolver--"why, I'd help it along. The
+  little pink pansy, it seems, went to look after our friends, the
+  enemy," Rex went on. "The hail nearly busted that old rock open.
+  I thought once it had. The ponies are scattered and likewise the
+  Kiowas. Gone helter-skelter, like the--tornado. The thing hit
+  hard up there. Some ponies dead, and mebby an Indian or two. I
+  didn't hunt 'em up. I can't use 'em that way," he added. "So I
+  just said, 'Pax vobiscum!' and a lot of it, and came kittering
+  back."<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower's eyes glistened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gone, all gone. The rain god drove them away. Now I know I may
+  go with you. The rain god loves you."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was to Beverly, and not to my uncle, that her eyes turned as
+  she spoke, but he was not even listening to her. To him she was
+  merely an Indian. She seemed more than that to me, and therein
+  lay the difference between us.<br>
+  <br>
+  If she had been interesting under the starlight, in the light of
+  day she became picturesque, a beautiful type of her race, silent,
+  alert of countenance, with big, expressive, black eyes, and long,
+  heavy braids of black hair. With her brilliant blanket about her
+  shoulders, a turquoise pendant on a leather band at her throat,
+  silver bracelets on her brown arms, she was as pleasing as an
+  Indian maiden could be--adding a touch of picturesque life to
+  that wonderful journey westward from Pawnee Rock to Santa
+  F&eacute;. Aunty Boone alone resented her presence among us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You can trust a nigger," she growled, "'cause you know they none
+  of 'em no 'count. But you can't tell about this Injun, whether
+  she's good or bad. I lets that sort of fish alone."<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower looked up at her with steady gaze and made no
+  reply.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out of that morning's events I learned a lasting lesson, and I
+  know now that the influence of Rex Krane on my life began that
+  day, as I recalled how he had followed Aunty Boone about the dark
+  corners of the little trading-post on the Neosho; and how he had
+  looked at Mat Nivers once when Uncle Esmond had suggested his
+  turning back to Independence; and how he had gone before all of
+  us, the vanguard, to the top of the bluff west of Council Grove;
+  and now he had followed this Indian girl. From that time I knew
+  in my boy heart that this tall, careless Boston youth had a
+  zealous care for the safety of women and children. How much care,
+  events would run swiftly on to show me. But welded into my life
+  from that hour was the meaning of a man's high, chivalric duty.
+  And among all the lessons that the old trail taught to me, none
+  served me more than this one that came to me on that sweet May
+  morning beneath the shadow of Pawnee Rock. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VI" id="VI">VI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  SPYING OUT THE LAND</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    City of the Holy Faith,<br>
+      In thy streets so dim with age,<br>
+    Do I read not Faith's decay,<br>
+      But the Future's heritage.<br>
+              -LILIAN WHITING.<br></p>
+
+  <p>Day was passing and the shadows were already beginning to grow
+  purple in the valleys, long before the golden light had left the
+  opal-crowned peaks of the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains beyond
+  them.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the wide crest of a rocky ridge our wagons halted. Behind us
+  the long trail stretched back, past mountain height and
+  ca&ntilde;on wall, past barren slope and rolling green prairie,
+  on to where the wooded ravines hem in the Missouri's yellow
+  floods.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before us lay a level plain, edged round with high mesas, over
+  which snowy-topped mountain peaks kept watch. A sandy plain,
+  checkered across by verdant-banded arroyos, and splotched with
+  little clumps of trees and little fields of corn. In the heart of
+  it all was Santa F&eacute;, a mere group of dust-brown adobe
+  blocks--silent, unsmiling, expressionless--the city of the
+  Spanish Mexican, centuries old and centuries primitive.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our tired mules slackened their traces and drooped to rest
+  after the long up-climb, Esmond Clarenden called out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come here, children. Yonder is the end of the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  We gathered eagerly about him, a picture in ourselves, maybe, in
+  an age of picturesque things; four men, bronzed and bearded; two
+  sturdy boys; Mat Nivers, no longer a little girl, it seemed now,
+  with the bloom of health on her tanned cheeks, and the smile of
+  good nature in wide gray eyes; beside her, the Indian maiden,
+  Little Blue Flower, slim, brown, lithe of motion, brief of
+  speech; and towering back of all, the glistening black face of
+  the big, silent African woman.<br>
+  <br>
+  So we stood looking out toward that northwest plain where the
+  trail lost itself among the low adobe huts huddled together
+  beside the glistening waters of the Santa F&eacute; River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane was the first to speak.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So that's what we've come out for to see, is it?" he mused,
+  aloud. "That's the precious old town that we've dodged Indians,
+  and shot rattlesnakes, and sunburnt our noses, and rain-soaked
+  our dress suits for! That's why we've pillowed our heads on the
+  cushiony cactus and tramped through purling sands, and blistered
+  our hands pullin' at eider-down ropes, and strained our
+  leg-muscles goin' down, and busted our lungs comin' up, and
+  clawed along the top edge of the world with nothin' but healthy
+  climate between us and the bottom of the bottomless pit. Humph!
+  That's what you call Santa F&eacute;! 'The city of the Holy
+  Faith!' Well, I need a darned lot of 'holy faith' to make me see
+  any city there. It's just a bunch of old yellow brick-kilns to
+  me, and I 'most wish now I'd stayed back at Independence and
+  hunted dog-tooth violets along the Big Blue."<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's not Boston, if that's what you were looking for; at least
+  there's no Bunker Hill Monument nor Back Bay anywhere in sight.
+  But I reckon it's the best they've got. I'm tired enough to take
+  what's offered and keep still," Bill Banney declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  I, too, wanted to keep still. I had only a faint memory of a real
+  city. It must have been St. Louis, for there was a wharf, and a
+  steamboat and a busy street, and soft voices--speaking a foreign
+  tongue. But the pictures I had seen, and the talk I had heard,
+  coupled with a little boy's keen imagination, had built up a very
+  different Santa F&eacute; in my mind. At that moment I was
+  homesick for Fort Leavenworth, through and through homesick, for
+  the first time since that April day when I had sat on the bluff
+  above the Missouri River while the vision of the plains descended
+  upon me. Everything seemed so different to-night, as if a gulf
+  had widened between us and all the nights behind us.<br>
+  <br>
+  We went into camp on the ridge, with the journey's goal in plain
+  view. And as we sat down together about the fire after supper we
+  forgot the hardships of the way over which we had come. The pine
+  logs blazed cheerily, and as the air grew chill we drew nearer
+  together about them as about a home fireside.<br>
+  <br>
+  The long June twilight fell upon the landscape. The pi&ntilde;on
+  and scrubby cedars turned to dark blotches on the slopes. The
+  valley swam in a purple mist. The silence of evening was broken
+  only by a faint bird-note in the bushes, and the fainter call of
+  some wild thing stealing forth at nightfall from its daytime
+  retreat. Behind us the mesas and headlands loomed up black and
+  sullen, but far before us the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains lifted
+  their glorified crests, with the sun's last radiance bathing them
+  in crimson floods.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat in silence for a long time, for nobody cared to talk.
+  Presently we heard Aunty Boone's low, penetrating voice inside
+  the wagon corral:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You pore gob of ugliness! Yo' done yo' best, and it's green corn
+  and plenty of watah and all this grizzly-gray grass you can stuff
+  in now. It's good for a mule to start right, same as a man.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The low voice trailed off into weird little whoops of approval.
+  Then the woman wandered away to the edge of the bluff and sat
+  until late that night, looking out at the strange, entrancing New
+  Mexican landscape.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To-morrow we put on our best clothes and enter the city," my
+  uncle broke the silence. "We have managed to pull through so far,
+  and we intend to keep on pulling till we unload back at
+  Independence again. But these are unsafe times and we are in an
+  unsafe country. We are going to do business and get out of it
+  again as soon as possible. I shall ask you all to be ready to
+  leave at a minute's notice, if you are coming back with me!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Now you see why I didn't join the army, don't you, Krane?" Bill
+  Banney said, aside. "I wanted to work under a real general."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then turning to my uncle, he added:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm already contracted for the round trip, Clarenden."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are going to start back just as if there were no dangers to
+  be met?" Rex Krane inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "As if there were dangers to be <i>met</i>, not run from," Esmond
+  Clarenden replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clarenden," the young Bostonian began, "you got away from that
+  drunken mob at Independence with your children, your mules, and
+  your big Daniel Boone. You started out when war was ragin' on the
+  Mexican frontier, and never stopped a minute because you had to
+  come it alone from Council Grove. You shook yourself and family
+  right through the teeth of that Mexican gang layin' for you back
+  there. You took Little Trailing Arbutus at Pawnee Rock out of
+  pure sympathy when you knew it meant a fight at sun-up, six
+  against fifty. And there would have been a bloody one, too, but
+  for that merciful West India hurricane bustin' up the show. You
+  pulled us up the Arkansas River, and straddled the Gloriettas,
+  with every danger that could ever be just whistlin' about our
+  ears. And now you sit there and murmur softly that 'we are in an
+  unsafe country and these are unsafe times,' so we'd better be
+  toddlin' back home right soon. I want to tell <i>you</i>
+  something now."<br>
+  <br>
+  He paused and looked at Mat Nivers. Always he looked at Mat
+  Nivers, who since the first blush one noonday long ago, so it
+  seemed, now, never appeared to know or care where he looked. He
+  must have had such a sister himself; I felt sure of that now.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to tell <i>you</i>," Rex repeated, "that I'm goin' to
+  stay with you. There's something <i>safe</i> about you. And
+  then," he added, carelessly, as he gazed out toward the darkening
+  plain below us, "my mother always said you could tie to a man who
+  was good to children. And you've been good to this infant
+  Kentuckian here."<br>
+  <br>
+  He flung out a hand toward Bill Banney without looking away from
+  the open West. "When you want to start back to God's country and
+  the land of Plymouth Rocks and Pawnee Rocks, I'm ready to trot
+  along."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm glad to hear you say that, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said. "I
+  shall need all the help I can get on the way back. Because we got
+  through safely we cannot necessarily count on a safe return. I
+  may need you in Santa F&eacute;, too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then command me," Rex replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  He looked toward Mat again, but she and Little Blue Flower were
+  coiling their long hair in fantastic fashion about their heads,
+  and laughing like school-girls together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower was as a shy brown fawn following us. She had
+  a way of copying Mat's manner, and she spoke less of Indian and
+  Spanish and more of English from day to day. She had laid aside
+  her Indian dress for one of Mat's neat gingham gowns. I think she
+  tried hard to forget her race in everything except her prayers,
+  for her own people had all been slain by Mexican ruffians. We
+  could not have helped liking her if we had tried to do so. Yet
+  that invisible race barrier that kept a fixed gulf between us and
+  Aunty Boone separated us also from the lovable little Indian
+  lass, albeit the gulf was far less deep and impassable.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night when she and Mat scampered away to the family wagon
+  together, she seemed somehow to really belong to us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently Jondo and Rex Krane and Bill and Beverly rolled their
+  blankets about them and went to sleep, leaving Esmond Clarenden
+  and myself alone beside the dying fire. The air was sharp and the
+  night silence deepened as the stars came into the skies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why don't you go to bed, Gail?" my uncle asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm not sleepy. I'm homesick," I replied. "Come here, boy." He
+  opened his arms to me, and I nestled in their embrace.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You've grown a lot in these two months, little man," he said,
+  softly. "You are a brave-hearted plainsman, and a good, strong
+  little limb when it comes to endurance, but just once in a while
+  all of us need a mothering touch. It keeps us sweet, my boy. It
+  keeps us sweet and fit to live."<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, many a time in the years that followed did the loving embrace
+  and the gentle words of this gentle, strong man come back to
+  comfort me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me tell you something, Gail. I'm going to need a boy like
+  you to help me a lot before we leave Santa F&eacute;, and I shall
+  count on you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a noise at the far side of the corral seemed to disturb
+  the stock. A faint stir of awakening or surprise--just a hint in
+  the air. All was still in a moment. Then it came again. We
+  listened. Something, an indefinite something, somewhere, was
+  astir. The surprise became unrest, anxiety, fear, among the
+  mules.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Wait here, Gail. I'll see what's up," Uncle Esmond said, in a
+  low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  He hurried away toward the corral and I slipped back in the
+  shadow of a rock and leaned against it to wait.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim beams of a starlit New Mexican sky I could see clearly
+  out toward the valley, but behind the camp all was darkness. As I
+  waited, hidden by the shadows, suddenly the flap of the
+  family-wagon cover lifted and Little Blue Flower slid out as
+  softly as a cat walks in the dust. She was dressed in her own
+  Indian garb now, with her bright blanket drawn picturesquely
+  about her head and shoulders. Silently she moved about the camp,
+  peering toward the shadows hiding me. Then with noiseless step
+  she slipped toward where Beverly Clarenden lay, his boyish face
+  upturned to the stars, sleeping the dreamless sleep of youth and
+  health. I leaned forward and stared hard as the girl approached
+  him. I saw her drop down on one knee beside him, and, bending
+  over him, she gently kissed his forehead. She rose and gave one
+  hurried look around the place and then, like a bird lifting its
+  wings for flight, she threw up her arms, and in another moment
+  she sprang to the edge of the ridge and slipped from view. I
+  followed, only to see her gliding swiftly away, farther and
+  farther, along the dim trail, until the shadows swallowed her
+  from my sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  A low whinny from the corral caught my ear, followed by a rush of
+  horses' feet. As I slipped into my place again to wait for my
+  uncle to return, the smoldering logs blazed out suddenly,
+  lighting up the form of a man who appeared just beyond the fire,
+  so that I saw the face distinctly. Then he, too, was gone,
+  following the way the Indian girl had taken, until he lost
+  himself in the misty dullness of the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently Esmond Clarenden came back to the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, the pony we lost in that storm at Pawnee Rock has come
+  back to us. It was standing outside the corral, waiting to get
+  in, just as if it had lost us for a couple of hours. It is in
+  good condition, too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How could it ever get here?" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Any one of a dozen ways," my uncle replied. "It may have run far
+  that stormy morning when it broke out of the corral, and possibly
+  some party coming over the Cimarron Trail picked it up and roved
+  on this way. There is no telling how it got here, since it keeps
+  still itself about the matter. Losing and finding and losing
+  again is the law of events on the plains."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But why should it find us right here to-night, like it had been
+  led back?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the miracle of it, Gail. It is always the strange thing
+  that really happens here. In years to come, if you ever tell the
+  truth about this trip, it will not be believed. When this isn't
+  the frontier any longer, the story of the trail will be accounted
+  impossible."<br>
+  <br>
+  Everything seemed impossible to me as I sat there staring at the
+  dying fire. Presently I remembered what I had seen while my uncle
+  was away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower has run away," I said, "and I saw the Mexican
+  that came to Fort Leavenworth the day before I twisted my ankle.
+  He slipped by here just a minute ago. I know, for I saw his face
+  when the logs flared up."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most
+  remarkable memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony
+  after us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I
+  ever see him before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But
+  dreams don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are
+  needed."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it
+  comes to doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a
+  bit reckless sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them
+  level."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't I do, too?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you
+  mustn't forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our
+  dreams we must fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who
+  come after us may be the better for our having them. What was it
+  you said about Little Blue Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten
+  her for the moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's gone to Santa F&eacute;, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle
+  Esmond? Tell me all about things," I urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
+  freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't
+  know what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just
+  felt Indian, as Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you,
+  Gail, that it may have been the Mexican who got our pony for us.
+  He is a strange fellow, walks like a cat, has ears like a timber
+  wolf, and the cunning of a fox."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me
+  an important message, and he waited at Independence to see us
+  off. Do you remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council
+  Grove? I think he followed the Mexican spy across the river to
+  our camp and sent him on east. Then he went back and got the
+  crowd all mixed up by his report, while their own man scouted the
+  trail out there for miles all night. He is the man who put you
+  through town and decoyed the ruffians to one side. He located us
+  after we had crossed the river, and then broke up their meeting
+  and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That is the
+  way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
+  and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sooner or later however," my uncle went on, "we will have to
+  reckon with that Kiowa tribe for stealing their captive. They
+  meant to return her for a big ransom price.... Great Heavens,
+  Gail! You seem like a man to me to-night instead of my little boy
+  back at the fort. The plains bring years to us instead of months,
+  with just one crossing. I am counting on you not to tell all
+  you've been told and all you've seen. I can be sure of you if you
+  can keep things to yourself. You'd better get to sleep now. There
+  will be plenty to see over in Santa F&eacute;. And there is
+  always danger afoot. But remember, it is the coward who finds the
+  most trouble in this world. Do your part with a gentleman's heart
+  and a hero's hand, and you'll get to the end of every trail
+  safely. Now go to bed."<br>
+  <br>
+  Where I lay that night I could see a wide space of star-gemmed
+  sky, the blue night-sky of the Southwest, and I wondered, as I
+  looked up into the starry deeps, how God could keep so many
+  bright bodies afield up there, and yet take time to guard all the
+  wandering children of men.<br>
+  <br>
+  With the day-dawn the strange events of the night seemed as
+  unreal as the vanishing night-shadows. The bluest skies of a
+  blue-sky land curved in fathomless majesty over the yellow valley
+  of the Santa F&eacute;. Against its borders loomed the silent
+  mountain ranges--purple-shaddowed, silver-topped Ortiz and
+  Jemez, Sandia and Sangre-de-Christo. Dusty and deserted lay the
+  trail, save that here and there a group of dark-faced carriers of
+  firewood prodded on their fagot-laden burros toward the distant
+  town. As our wagons halted at the sandy borders of an arroyo the
+  brown-clad form of a priest rose up from the shade of a group of
+  scrubby pi&ntilde;on-trees beside the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden lifted his hat in greeting.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are you going our way? We can give you a ride," he paused to
+  say.<br>
+  <br>
+  The man's face was very dark, but it was a young, strong face,
+  and his large, dark eyes were full of the fire of life. When he
+  spoke his voice was low and musical.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thank you. I go toward the mountains. You stay here long?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Only to dispose of my goods. My business is brief," Esmond
+  Clarenden declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  The good man leaned forward as if to see each face there,
+  sweeping in everything at one glance. Then he looked down at the
+  ground.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These are troublesome days. War is only a temporary evil, but it
+  makes for hate, and hate kills as it dies. Love lives and gives
+  life." A smile lighted his eyes, though his lips were firm. "I
+  wish you well. Among friends or enemies the one haven of safety
+  always is the holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond bowed his head reverently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find it beside the trail near the river. The walls are
+  very old and strong, but not so old as hate, nor so strong as
+  love. A little street runs from it, crooked--six houses away.
+  Peace be to all of you." He broke off suddenly and his last
+  sentence was spoken in a clear, strong tone unlike the gentler
+  voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thank you, Father!" Jondo said, as the priest passed his
+  wagon.<br>
+  <br>
+  The holy man gave him one swift, searching glance. Then lifting
+  his right hand as if in blessing, and slowly dropping it until
+  the forefinger pointed toward the west, he passed on his way.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's brown cheek flushed and the lines about his mouth grew
+  hard.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take my place, Bev," he said, as he left his wagon and joined
+  Esmond Clarenden.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two spoke earnestly together. Then Jondo mounted Beverly's
+  pony.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you need me--" I heard him say, and he turned away and rode
+  in the direction the priest had taken.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond offered no explanation for this sudden action, and
+  his sunny face was stern.<br>
+  <br>
+  Usually wagon-trains were spied out long before they reached the
+  city, and a rabble attended their entry. To-day we moved along
+  quietly until the trail became a mere walled lane. On either side
+  one-story adobe huts sat with their backs to the street. No
+  windows opened to the front, and only a wooden door or a closed
+  gateway stared in blank unfriendliness at the passer-by. Little
+  straggling lanes led off aimlessly on either side, as narrow and
+  silent as the strange terminal of the long trail itself.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was only a boy, with the heart of a boy and the eyes of a boy.
+  I could only feel; I could not understand the spell of that hour.
+  But to me everything was alluring, wrapt as it was in the mystery
+  of a civilization old here when Plymouth Rock felt the first
+  Pilgrim's foot, or Pawnee Rock stared at the first bold plainsman
+  of the pale face and the conquering soul.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was riding beside Beverly's wagon as we neared the quaint,
+  centuries-old, adobe church of San Miguel, rising tall and silent
+  above the low huts about it, its rough walls suggesting a
+  fortress of strength, while its triple towers might be an outlook
+  for a guardsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look at that church. Bev, I wonder how old it is," I
+  exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I should say about a thousand years and a day," Beverly
+  declared. "See that flopsy steeple thing! It looks like
+  building-blocks stacked up there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe this is the sanctuary that priest was talking about," I
+  suggested. "He said the walls were old as hate and strong as
+  love, with a crooked street beside it somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, you sponge! Soaking up everything you see and hear. I wonder
+  you sleep nights for fear the wind will tell the pine trees
+  something you'll miss," Beverly declared. "I can tell a horse's
+  age by its teeth, but churches don't have teeth. Go and ask Mat
+  about it. She knows when the De Sotos and Cort&eacute;ses and all
+  the other Spanish grandaddees came to Mexico."<br>
+  <br>
+  I had just turned back alongside of Mat's wagon--she was always
+  our book of ready reference--when a little girl suddenly dashed
+  out of a walled lane opening into the street behind us. She
+  stopped in the middle of the road, almost under my pony's feet,
+  then with a shout of laughter she dashed into the deep doorway of
+  the church and stood there, peering out at me with eyes brimful
+  of mischief.<br>
+  <br>
+  I brought my pony back on its haunches suddenly. I had seen this
+  girl before. The big dark eyes, the straight little nose, the
+  curve of the pink cheek, the china-smooth chin and neck, and,
+  crowning all, the cloud of golden hair shading her forehead and
+  falling in tangled curls behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  I did not notice all these features now. It was only the eyes,
+  dark eyes, somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, and maybe
+  the halo of hair that had been in my vision on that day when
+  Beverly and Mat Nivers and I sat on the parade-ground facing a
+  sudden turn in our life trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared at the eyes now, only half conscious that the girl was
+  laughing at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You big brown bob-cat! You look like you had slept in the Hondo
+  'royo all your life," she cried, and turned to run away
+  again.<br>
+  <br>
+  As she did so a dark face peered round the corner of the church
+  from the crooked street beside it. A sudden gleam of white teeth
+  and glistening eyes, a sudden leap and grip, and a boy, larger
+  than Beverly, caught the little girl by the shoulders and shook
+  her viciously.<br>
+  <br>
+  She screamed and struggled. Then, with a wild shriek as he
+  clutched at her curls, she wrenched herself away and plunged
+  inside the church. The boy dived in after her. Another scream,
+  and I had dropped from my pony and leaped across the road. I
+  pushed open the door against the two struggling together. With
+  one grip at his coat-collar I broke his hold on the little girl
+  and flung him outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have a faint recollection of a priest hurrying down the aisle
+  toward the fighting children, as the little girl, freed from her
+  assailant, dashed out of the door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He jumped at her first, and shook her and pulled her hair," I
+  cried, as the priest caught me by the shoulder. "I'm not going to
+  see anybody pitched into, not a little girl, anyhow."<br>
+  <br>
+  I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At
+  the corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her
+  eyes blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her
+  face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and"--her voice softened and the
+  defiant eyes grew mischievous--"you aren't a bob-cat. You're
+  a--Look out!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She shouted the last words and disappeared up the narrow, crooked
+  street, just as a fragment of rock whizzed over my shoulder. I
+  jumped on my pony to dash away, when another rock just missed my
+  head, and I saw the boy, Marcos, beside the church, ready for a
+  third hurl. His black eyes flashed fire, and the grin of malice
+  on his face showed all his fine white teeth.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was as mad as a boy can be. Instead of fleeing, I spurred my
+  pony straight at him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You little beast, I dare you to throw that rock at me! I dare
+  you!" I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy dropped the missile and sped away after the girl. I
+  followed in time to see them enter a doorway, six or seven houses
+  up the way. Then I turned back, and in a minute I had overtaken
+  our wagons trailing down to the ford of the Santa F&eacute;
+  River.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought mebby you'd gone back after Jondo and that holy
+  podder," Rex Krane greeted me. "Better begin to wink naturally
+  and look a little pleasanter now. We'll be in the Plazzer in two
+  or three minutes."<br>
+  <br>
+  The drivers flourished their whips, the mules caught their
+  spirit, and with bump and lurch and rattle we swung down the
+  narrow crack between adobe walls that ended before the old
+  Exchange Hotel at the corner of the Plaza.<br>
+  <br>
+  This open square in the center of the city was shaded by trees
+  and littered with refuse. The Palace of the Governors fronted it
+  along the entire north side, a long, low, one-story structure
+  whose massive adobe walls defy the wearing years. Compared to the
+  kingly palaces of my imagination, this royal dwelling seemed a
+  very commonplace thing, and the wide portal, or veranda, that ran
+  along its front looked like one of the sheds about the barracks
+  at the fort rather than an entranceway for rulers. Yet this was
+  the house of a ruler hostile to that flag to which I had thrown a
+  good-by kiss, up at Fort Leavenworth.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the other three sides of the Plaza were other low adobe
+  buildings, for the business of the city faced this central
+  square.<br>
+  <br>
+  A crowd was gathered there when we reached it. Somebody standing
+  before the Palace of the Governors was haranguing in fiery
+  Spanish, if gesture and oral vehemence are true tokens.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our wagons rumbled up to the corner of the square the crowd
+  broke up with a shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Los Americanos! Los Carros!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The cry went up everywhere as the rabble left the speaker to
+  flock about us--men, women, children, Mexican, Spanish, Indian,
+  with now and then a Saxon face among them. Our outfit was as well
+  appointed as such a journey's end permitted. We were in our best
+  clothes--clean-shaven gentlemen, well-dressed boys, and one girl,
+  neat and comely in a dark-blue gown of thin stuff with white lace
+  at throat and wrist; and last, and biggest of all, Aunty Boone,
+  in a bright-green lawn with little white dots all over it.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat on my pony beside my uncle's wagon, I caught sight of
+  the slim figure of Little Blue Flower, well back in the shade of
+  the Plaza. She was watching Beverly, who sat in Jondo's wagon,
+  staring at the crowd and seeing no one in particular. A minute
+  later a tall young Indian boy stepped in front of her, and when
+  he moved away she was gone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Many men came forward to greet Esmond Clarenden, and there were
+  many inquiries regarding his goods and many exclamations of
+  surprise that he had come alone with so valuable a cargo.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was the first time that Beverly and I had seen him among his
+  equals. At Fort Leavenworth, where the army overruled everything
+  else, men stood above him in authority or below him in business
+  affairs; and while he never cringed to the one, nor patronized
+  the other, where there are no competitors there are no true
+  measures. That day in the Plaza of Santa F&eacute; the merchant
+  was in his own kingdom, where commerce stood above everything
+  else.<br>
+  <br>
+  Moreover, this American merchant, following a danger-girt trail,
+  had come in fearlessly, and those men of the Plaza knew that he
+  was one to exact value for value in all his dealings. But I
+  believe that his real power lay in his ready smile, his courtesy,
+  his patience, and his up-bubbling good nature that made him a
+  friendship-builder.<br>
+  <br>
+  Among the men who came to make acquaintance with the American
+  trader was a Mexican merchant. Evidently he was a man of some
+  importance, for an interpreter hastened to introduce him,
+  explaining that this man had been away on a journey of some weeks
+  among the mines of New Mexico and the Southwest, and only the day
+  before he had come in from Taos.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find him a prince of merchants, a sound, unprejudiced
+  business man. His name is Felix Narveo," the American interpreter
+  added.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two men shook hands, greeting each other in the Spanish
+  tongue. This Felix Narveo was well dressed and well groomed, but
+  I recognized him at once as the Mexican of Fort Leavenworth and
+  Independence and Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  There was one man in that company, however, who did not come
+  forward at all. When I first caught sight of him he was looking
+  at me. I stared back at him with a boy's curiosity, but he did
+  not take his eyes from me until I had dropped my own. After that
+  I watched him keenly. He seemed almost too fair for a Mexican--a
+  tall, spare-built man with black hair, and eyes so steely blue
+  that they were almost black. Everywhere I saw him--at the corners
+  of the little crowd and in the thick of it. He was an easy mark,
+  for he towered above the rest, and, being slender, he seemed to
+  worm his way quickly from place to place. At sight of him, Aunty
+  Boone, who had been peering out with shining eyes, drew her head
+  in as quick as a snake, under the shadow of the wagon cover, and
+  her eyes grew dull. He had not seen her, but I could see that he
+  was watching the remainder of us, and especially my uncle; and I
+  began to feel afraid of him and to wish that he would leave the
+  Plaza. It was years ago that all this happened, and yet to-day my
+  fear of that man still sticks in my memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  When he turned away, suddenly I caught sight of the boy, whom I
+  had flung out of the church, standing behind him, the boy whom
+  the little girl had called Marcos. Although his face was dark and
+  the man's was fair, there was a strong likeness between the
+  two.<br>
+  <br>
+  This Marcos stared insolently at all of us. Then with a laugh and
+  a grimace at me, he ran after the man and they disappeared
+  together around the corner of the Palace of the Governors. And in
+  the rush of strange sights I forgot them both for a time. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VII" id="VII">VII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  "SANCTUARY"</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Our dwelling-place in all generations.--Psalms xc, 1.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  They are wonderful to me still--those few brief days that
+  followed. While Esmond Clarenden was forcing his business
+  transactions to a speedy climax, he was all the time foreseeing
+  Santa F&eacute; under the United States Government. He had not
+  come here as a spy, nor a speculator, but as a commerce-builder,
+  knowing that the same business life would go on when the war
+  cloud lifted, and that the same men who had made the plains
+  commerce profitable under the Mexican flag would not be exiled
+  when the Stars and Stripes should float above the old Palace of
+  the Governors. Belief in the ethics of his calling and trust in
+  manhood were ever a large part of his stock in trade, making him
+  dare to go where he chose to go, and to do what he willed to
+  do.<br>
+  <br>
+  But no concern for commerce nor extension of national territory
+  disturbed our young minds in those sunlit days, as Mat and
+  Beverly and I looked with the big, quick-seeing eyes of youth on
+  this new strange world at the end of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were all together in the deserted dining-room on our first
+  evening in Santa F&eacute; when the man whom I had seen on the
+  Plaza strolled leisurely in. He sat down at one of the farthest
+  tables from us, and his eyes, glistening like blue-black steel,
+  were fixed on us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Once at Fort Leavenworth I had watched in terror as a bird
+  fluttered helplessly toward a still, steel-eyed snake holding it
+  in thrall. And just at the moment when its enemy was ready to
+  strike, Jondo had happened by and shot the snake's head off. The
+  same terror possessed me now, and I began half-consciously to
+  long for Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the midst of new sights I had hardly thought of him since he
+  had left us out beyond the big arroyo. He had come into town at
+  dusk, but soon after supper he had disappeared. His face was very
+  pale, and his eyes had a strange look that never left them again.
+  Something was different in Jondo from that day, but it did not
+  change his gentle nature toward his fellow-men. During our short
+  stay in Santa F&eacute; we hardly saw him at all. We children
+  were too busy with other things to ask questions, and everybody
+  but Rex Krane was too busy to be questioned. Having nothing else
+  to do, Rex became our chaperon, as Uncle Esmond must have
+  foreseen he would be when he measured the young man in
+  Independence on the day we left there.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night Esmond Clarenden, smiling and good-natured, paid no heed
+  to the sharp eyes of this stranger fixed on him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter now, little weather-vane? You are always first
+  to sense a coming change," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, I saw that man watching us like he knew us, out
+  there on the Plaza to-day. Who is he?" I asked, in a low
+  tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "His name is Ferdinand Ramero. You will find him watching
+  everywhere. Let that man alone as you would a snake," my uncle
+  warned us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is that his boy?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What boy?" Uncle Esmond inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Marcos, the boy I pitched endways out of the church. He's bigger
+  than Bev, too," I declared, proudly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail Clarenden, are you crazy?" Uncle Esmond exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I'm not," I insisted, and then I told what had happened at
+  the church, adding, "I saw Marcos with that man in the Plaza, and
+  they went away together."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden's face grew grave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What kind of a looking child was she, Gail?" he asked, after a
+  pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, she had yellow hair and big sort of dark eyes! She could
+  squeal like anything. She wasn't a baby girl at all, but a
+  regular little fighter kind of a girl."<br>
+  <br>
+  I grew bashful all at once and hesitated, but my uncle did not
+  seem to hear me, for he turned to Rex Krane and said, in low,
+  earnest tones:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, if you can locate that child for me you will do me an
+  invaluable service. It was largely on her account that I came
+  here now, and it's a god-send to have a fellow like you to save
+  time for me. Every man has his uses. Your service will be a big
+  one to me."<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man's face flushed and his eyes shone with a new
+  light.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If any of you happen to see that girl let me know at once," my
+  uncle said, turning to us, "but, remember, don't act as if you
+  were hunting for her."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know now right where she lives. It's up a crooked street by
+  that church. I saw her run in there," I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Every hut looks like every other hut, and every little Mex looks
+  like every other little Mex," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond smiled, but the stern lines in his face hardly broke
+  as he said, earnestly, "Keep your eyes open and, whatever you do,
+  stay close to Krane while Bill helps me here, and don't forget to
+  watch for that little girl when you are sight-seeing."<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's not much to see, as Bev says, but the outside of 'dobe
+  walls five feet thick," Rex Krane observed. "But if you know
+  which wall to look through, the lookin' may be easy enough.
+  Seein' things is my specialty, and we'll get this princess if we
+  have to slay a giant and an ogre and take a few dozen Mexican
+  scalps first. The plot just thickens. It's a great game." The
+  tall New-Englander would not take life seriously anywhere, and,
+  with our trust in his guardianship, we could want no better
+  chaperon.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night Beverly Clarenden and I were in fairyland.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the princess, Bev, the princess we were looking for," I
+  joyously asserted. "And, oh, Bev, she is beautiful, but
+  snappy-like, too. She called me a 'big brown bob-cat', and then
+  she apologized, just as nice as could be."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And this little Marcos cuss, he'll be the ogre," Beverly
+  declared. "But who'll we have for the giant? That priest, footing
+  it out by that dry creek-thing they call a 'royo?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh no, no! He and Jondo made up together, and Jondo's nobody's
+  bad man even in a story. It will be that Ferdinand Ramero," I
+  insisted. "But, say, Bev, Jondo wrote a new name on the register
+  this evening, or somebody wrote it for him, maybe. It wasn't his
+  own writing. 'Jean Deau.' I saw it in big, round, back-slanting
+  letters. Why did he do that?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I reckon that's his real name in big, round, back-slanting
+  letters down here," Beverly replied. "It's French, and we have
+  just been spelling it like it sounds, that's all."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, maybe so," I commented, and when I fell asleep it was to
+  dream of a princess and Jondo by a strange name, but the same
+  Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air of New Mexico puts iron into the blood. The trail life
+  had hardened us all, but the finishing touch for Rex Krane came
+  in the invigorating breath of that mountain-cooled, sun-cleansed
+  atmosphere of Santa F&eacute;. Shrewd, philosophic, brave-hearted
+  like his historic ancestry, he laid his plans carefully now, sure
+  of doing what he was set to do. And the wholesome sense of really
+  serving the man who had measured his worth at a glance gave him a
+  pleasure he had not known before. Of course, he moved slowly and
+  indifferently. One could never imagine Rex Krane hurrying about
+  anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We'll just 'prospect,' as Daniel Boone says," he declared, as he
+  marshaled us for the day. "We are strangers, sight-seein', got no
+  other business on earth, least of all any to take us up to this
+  old San Miguel Church for unholy purposes. 'Course if we see a
+  pretty little dark-eyed, golden-haired lassie anywhere, we'll
+  just make a diagram of the spot she's stand'n' on, for future
+  reference. We're in this game to win, but we don't do no foolish
+  hurryin' about it."<br>
+  <br>
+  So we wandered away, a happy quartet, and the city offered us
+  strange sights on every hand. It was all so old, so different, so
+  silent, so baffling--the narrow, crooked street; the solid
+  house-walls that hemmed them in; the strange tongue, strange
+  dress, strange customs; the absence of smiling faces or friendly
+  greetings; the sudden mystery of seeking for one whom we must not
+  seem to seek, and the consciousness of an enemy, Ferdinand
+  Ramero, whom we must avoid--that it is small wonder that we lived
+  in fairyland.<br>
+  <br>
+  We saw the boy, Marcos, here and there, sometimes staring
+  defiantly at us from some projected angle; sometimes slipping out
+  of sight as we approached; sometimes quarreling with other
+  children at their play. But nowhere, since the moment when I had
+  seen the door close on her up that crooked street beside the old
+  church, could we find any trace of the little girl.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim morning light of our fifth day in Santa F&eacute;, a
+  man on horseback, carrying a big, bulky bundle in his arms,
+  slipped out of the crooked, shadow-filled street beside the old
+  church of San Miguel. He halted a moment before the structure and
+  looked up at the ancient crude spire outlined against the sky,
+  then sped down the narrow way by the hotel at the end of the
+  trail. He crossed the Plaza swiftly and dashed out beyond the
+  Palace of the Governors and turned toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone, who slept in the family wagon--or under it--in the
+  inclosure at the rear of the hotel, had risen in time to peer out
+  of the wooden gate just as the rider was passing. It was still
+  too dark to see the man's face distinctly, but his form, and the
+  burden he carried, and the trappings of the horse she noted
+  carefully, as was her habit.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Up to cussedness, that man is. Mighty long an' slim. Lemme see!
+  Humph! I know <i>him</i>. I'll go wake up somebody."<br>
+  <br>
+  As the woman leaned far out of the gate she caught sight of a
+  little Indian girl crouching outside of the wall.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You got no business here, you, Little Blue Flower! Where do you
+  live when you <i>do</i> live?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower pointed toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why you come hangin' 'round here?" the African woman
+  demanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef send me to help the people who help me," she said,
+  in her soft, low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go back to your own folks, then, and tell your Daddy Joseph a
+  man just stole a big bunch of something and rode south with it.
+  He can look after that man. We can get along somehow. Now
+  go."<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice was like a growl, and the little Indian maiden shrank
+  back in the shadow of the wall. The next minute Aunty Boone was
+  rapping softly on the door of the room whose guest had registered
+  as Jean Deau. Ten minutes later another horseman left the street
+  beside the hotel and crossed the Plaza, riding erect and
+  open-faced as only Jondo could ride. Then the African woman
+  sought out Rex Krane, and in a few brief sentences told him what
+  had been taking place. All of which Rex was far too wise to
+  repeat to Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  That afternoon it happened that we left Mat Nivers at the hotel,
+  while Rex Krane and Beverly and I strolled out of town on a
+  well-beaten trail leading toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It looks interestin'. Let's go on a ways," Rex commented,
+  lazily.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody would have guessed from his manner but that he was
+  indulgently helping us to have a good time with certain
+  restriction as to where we should go, and what we might say, nor
+  that, of the three, he was the most alert and full of definite
+  purpose.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down beside the way as a line of burros loaded with
+  firewood from the mountains trailed slowly by, with their
+  stolid-looking drivers staring at us in silent
+  unfriendliness.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last driver was the tall young Indian boy whom I had seen
+  standing in front of Little Blue Flower in the crowd of the
+  Plaza. He paid no heed to our presence, and his face was
+  expressionless as he passed us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Stupid as his own burro, and not nearly so handsome," Beverly
+  commented.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy turned quietly and stared at my cousin, who had not meant
+  to be overheard. Nobody could read the meaning of that look, for
+  his face was as impenetrable as the adobe walls of the Palace of
+  the Governors.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, you are laying up trouble. An Indian never forgets, and
+  you'll be finding that fellow under your pillow every night till
+  he gets your scalp," Rex Krane declared, as we went on our
+  way.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly laughed and stiffened his sturdy young arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's welcome to it if he can get it," he said, carelessly. "How
+  many million miles do we go to-day, Mr. Krane?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder is your terminal," Rex replied, pointing to a little
+  settlement of mud huts huddling together along the trail. "They
+  call that little metropolis Agua Fria--'pure water'--because
+  there ain't no water there. It's the last place to look for
+  anybody. That's why we look there. You will go in like gentlemen,
+  though--and don't be surprised nor make any great noise over
+  anything you see there. If a riot starts I'll do the
+  startin'."<br>
+  <br>
+  Carelessly as this was said, we understood the command behind
+  it.<br>
+  <br>
+  Near the village, I happened to glance back over the way we had
+  come, and there, striding in, soft-footed as a cat behind us, was
+  that young Indian. I turned again just as we reached the first
+  straggling houses at the outskirts of the settlement, but he had
+  disappeared.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange little village, this Agua Fria. Its squat
+  dwellings, with impenetrable adobe walls, had sat out there on
+  the sandy edge of the dry Santa F&eacute; River through many and
+  many a lagging decade; a single trail hardly more than a
+  cart-width across ran through it. A church, mud-walled and
+  ancient, rose above the low houses, but of order or uniformity of
+  outline there was none. Hands long gone to dust had shaped those
+  crude dwellings on this sunny plain where only man decays, though
+  what he builds endures.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody was in sight and there was something awesome in the very
+  silence everywhere. Rex lounged carelessly along, as one who had
+  no particular aim in view and was likely to turn back at any
+  moment. But Beverly and I stared hard in every direction.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the end of the village two tiny mud huts, separated from each
+  other by a mere crack of space, encroached on this narrow way
+  even a trifle more than the neighboring huts. As we were passing
+  these a soft Hopi voice called:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly! Beverly!" And Little Blue Flower, peeping shyly out
+  from the narrow opening, lifted a warning hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The church! The church!" she repeated, softly, then darted out
+  of sight, as if the brown wall were but thick brown vapor into
+  which she melted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, it's our own little girl!" Beverly exclaimed, with a smile,
+  just as Little Blue Flower turned away, but I am sure she caught
+  his words and saw his smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  We would have called to her, but Rex Krane evidently did not hear
+  her, for he neither halted nor turned his head. So, remembering
+  our command to be quiet, we passed on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess we are about to the end of this 'pure water' resort.
+  It's gettin' late. Let's go back home now," our leader said,
+  dispiritedly. So we turned back toward Santa F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the narrow opening where we had seen Little Blue Flower the
+  young Indian boy stood upright and motionless, and again he gave
+  no sign of seeing us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's just run over to that church a minute while we are here.
+  Looks interestin' over there," Rex suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wondered if he could have heard Little Blue Flower, and thought
+  her suggestion was a good one, or if this was a mere whim of
+  his.<br>
+  <br>
+  The church, a crude mission structure, stood some distance from
+  the trail. As we entered a priest came forward to meet us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can I serve you?" he asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice was clear and sweet--the same voice that we had heard
+  out beyond the arroyo southeast of town, the same face, too, that
+  we had seen, with the big dark eyes full of fire. Involuntarily I
+  recalled how his hand had pointed to the west when he had
+  pronounced a blessing that day.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank you, Father--" Rex began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Josef," the holy man said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, thank you, Father Josef. We are just looking at things. No
+  wish to be rude, you know."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex lifted his cap and stood bareheaded in the priestly
+  presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef smiled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look here, then."<br>
+  <br>
+  He led us up the aisle to where, cuddled down on a crude seat, a
+  little girl lay asleep. Her golden hair fell like a cloud about
+  her face, flowing over the edge of the seat almost to the floor.
+  Her cheeks were pink and warm, and her dimpled white hands were
+  clasped together. I had caught Mat Nivers napping many a time,
+  but never in my life had I seen anything half so sweet as this
+  sleeping girl in the beauty of her innocence. And I knew at a
+  glance that this was the same girl whom I had seen before at the
+  door of the old Church of San Miguel.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Same as grown-ups when the sermon is dull. Thank you, Father
+  Josef. It's a pretty picture. We must be goin' now." Rex Krane
+  dropped some silver in the priest's hand and we left the
+  church.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the door we passed the Indian boy again, and a third time he
+  gave no sign of seeing us. I was the only one who was troubled,
+  however, for Rex and Beverly did not seem to notice him. As we
+  left the village I caught sight of him again following behind
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look there, Bev," I said, in a low voice. Beverly glanced back,
+  then turned and stared defiantly at the boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe Rex knows about Indians," he said, lightly. "That's three
+  times I found him fooling around in less than an hour, but my
+  scalp is still hanging over one ear."<br>
+  <br>
+  He pushed back his cap and pulled at his bright brown locks.
+  Happy Bev! How headstrong, brave, and care-free he walked the
+  plains that day.<br>
+  <br>
+  The evening shadows were lengthening and the peaks of the
+  Sangre-de-Christo range were taking on the scarlet stains of
+  sunset when we raced into town at last. Rex Krane went at once to
+  find Uncle Esmond, and Beverly and I hurried to the hotel to tell
+  Mat of all that we had seen.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her gray eyes were glowing when she met us at the door and led us
+  into a corner where we could talk by ourselves.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond has sold everything to that Mexican merchant, Felix
+  Narveo, and we are going to start home just as soon as he can
+  find that little girl."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we've found her! We've found her!" Beverly burst out. But
+  Mat hushed him at once.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't yell it to the sides, Beverly Clarenden. Now listen!" Mat
+  dropped her voice almost to a whisper. "He's going to take that
+  little girl back with us as far as Fort Leavenworth, and then
+  send her on to St. Louis where she has some folks, I guess."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Isn't he a clipper, though," Beverly exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But what if the Indians should get us?" I asked, anxiously. "I
+  heard the colonel at Fort Leavenworth just give it to Uncle
+  Esmond one night for bringing us."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are safe or you are not safe everywhere. And if we got in
+  here I reckon we can get out," Mat reasoned, philosophically.
+  "And Uncle Esmond isn't afraid and he's set on doing it. We
+  aren't going to take any goods back, so we can travel lots
+  faster, and everything will be put in the wagons so we can grab
+  out what's worth most in a hurry if we have to."<br>
+  <br>
+  So we talked matters over now as we had done on that April day
+  out on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. But now we knew
+  something of what might be before us on that homeward journey.
+  Thrilling hours those were. It is no wonder that, schooled by
+  their events, young as we were, we put away childish things.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night while we slept things happened of which we knew
+  nothing for many years. There was no moon and the glaring yellow
+  daytime plain was full of gray-edged shadows, under the far stars
+  of a midnight blue sky, as Esmond Clarenden took the same trail
+  that we had followed in the afternoon. On to the village of Agua
+  Fria, black and silent, he rode until he came to the church door.
+  Here he dismounted, and, quickly securing his horse, he entered
+  the building. The chill midnight wind swept in through the open
+  door behind him, threatening to blot out the flickering candles
+  about the altar. Father Josef came slowly down the aisle to meet
+  him, while a tall man, crouching like a beast about to spring,
+  rather than a penitent at prayer, shrank down in the shadowy
+  corner inside the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  The merchant, solid and square-built and fearless, stood before
+  the young priest baring his head as he spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come on a grave errand, good Father. This afternoon my two
+  nephews and a young man from New England came in here and saw a
+  child asleep under protection of this holy sanctuary. That
+  child's name is Eloise St. Vrain. I had hoped to find her mother
+  able to care for her. She--cannot do it, as you know. I must do
+  it for her now. I come here to claim what it is my duty to
+  protect."<br>
+  <br>
+  At these words the crouching figure sprang up and Ferdinand
+  Ramero, his steel-blue eyes blazing, came forward with cat-like
+  softness. But the sturdy little man before the priest stood, hat
+  in hand, undisturbed by any presence there.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef," the tall man began, in a voice of menace, "you
+  will not protect this American here. I have confessed to you and
+  you know that this man is my enemy. He comes, a traitor to his
+  own country and a spy to ours. He has risked the lives of three
+  children by bringing them across the plains. He comes alone where
+  large wagon-trains dare not venture. He could not go back to the
+  States now. And lastly, good Father, he has no right to the child
+  that he claims is here."<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the child that is here, asleep beside our sacred altar,"
+  Father Josef said, sternly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero turned upon the priest fiercely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Even the Church might go too far," he muttered,
+  threateningly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It might, but it never has," the holy man agreed. Then turning
+  to Esmond Clarenden, he continued: "You must see that these
+  charges do not stand against you. Our Holy Church offers no
+  protection, outside of these four walls, to a traitor or a spy or
+  even an unpatriotic speculator seeking to profit by the needs of
+  war. Nor could it sanction giving the guardianship of a child to
+  one who daringly imperils his own life or the lives of children,
+  nor can it sanction any rights of guardianship unless due cause
+  be given for granting them."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero smiled as the priest concluded. He was a
+  handsome man, with the sort of compelling magnetism that gives
+  controlling power to its possessor. But because I knew my uncle
+  so well in after years, I can picture Esmond Clarenden as he
+  stood that night before the young priest in the little mud-walled
+  church of Agua Fria. And I can picture the tall, threatening man
+  in the shadows beside him. But never have I held an image of him
+  showing a sign of fear.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef, I am willing to make any explanation to you. As
+  for this man whom you call Ramero here--up in the States he bears
+  another name and I finished with him there six years ago--I have
+  no time nor breath to waste on him. Are these your demands?" my
+  uncle asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They are," Father Josef replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do I take away the little girl, Eloise, unmolested, if you are
+  satisfied?" Esmond Clarenden demanded, first making sure of his
+  bargain, like the merchant he was.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero stiffened insolently at these words, and looked
+  threateningly at Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You do," the holy man replied, something of the flashing light
+  in his eyes alone revealing what sort of a soldier the State had
+  lost when this man took on churchly orders.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am no traitor to my flag, since my full commerical
+  purpose was known and sanctioned by the military authority at
+  Fort Leavenworth before I left there. I brought no aid to my
+  country's enemy because my full cargo was bargained for by your
+  merchant, Felix Narveo, before the declaration of war was made. I
+  merely acted as his agent bringing his own to him. I have come
+  here as a spy only in this--that I shall profit in strictly
+  legitimate business by the knowledge I hold of commercial
+  conditions and my acquaintance with your citizens when this war
+  for territory ends, no matter how its results may run. I deal in
+  wholesome trade, not in human hate. I offer value for value, not
+  blood for blood."<br>
+  <br>
+  Up to this time a smile had lighted the merchant's eyes. But now
+  his voice lowered, and the lines about his mouth hardened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "As to the guardianship of children, Father Josef, I am a
+  bachelor who for nearly nine years have given a home, education,
+  support, and affection to three orphan children, until, though
+  young in years, they are wise and capable. So zealous was I for
+  their welfare, that when word came to me--no matter how--that a
+  company of Mexicans were on their way to Independence, Missouri,
+  ostensibly to seek the protection of the United States Government
+  and to settle on the frontier there, but really to seize these
+  children in my absence, and carry them into the heart of old
+  Mexico, I decided at once that they would be safer with me in New
+  Mexico than without me in Missouri.<br>
+  <br>
+  "In the night I passed this Mexican gang at Council Grove,
+  waiting to seize me in the morning. At Pawnee Rock a storm
+  scattered a band of Kiowa Indians to whom these same Mexicans had
+  given a little Indian slave girl as a reward for attacking our
+  train if the Mexicans should fail to get us themselves. Through
+  every peril that threatens that long trail we came safely because
+  the hand of the Lord preserved us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden paused, and the priest bowed a moment in
+  prayer.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If I have dared fate in this journey," the merchant went on, "it
+  was not to be foolhardy, nor for mere money gains, but to keep my
+  own with me, and to rescue the daughter of Mary St. Vrain, of
+  Santa F&eacute;, and take her to a place of safety. It was her
+  mother's last pleading call, as you, Father Josef, very well
+  know, since you yourself heard her last words and closed her dead
+  eyes. Under the New Mexican law, the guardianship of her property
+  rests with others. Mine is the right to protect her and, by the
+  God of heaven, I mean to do it!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden's voice was deep and powerful now, filling the
+  old church with its vehemence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Up by the altar, the little girl sat up suddenly and looked about
+  her, terrified by the dim light and the strange faces there.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't be afraid, Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  How strangely changed was this gentle tone from the vehement
+  voice of a moment ago.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no
+  child ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held
+  Beverly and me in loving obedience all the days of our lives with
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the
+  girl reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm
+  protectingly about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with
+  tears; the head with its sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned
+  against him for a moment. Then the fighting spirit came back to
+  her, so early in her young life had the need for defending
+  herself been forced upon her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good!
+  Let's go now!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at
+  Esmond Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open
+  door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this
+  good man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your
+  mother would want you to be." His musical voice was full of
+  pathos.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the
+  aisle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand
+  between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from
+  her face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned
+  hastily toward the altar.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp,
+  bitter voice filling the church.<br>
+  <br>
+  "By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so
+  long as you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them
+  you reckon with me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing
+  gesture.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for
+  that sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would
+  have been safe here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as
+  long as you choose in the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot
+  outside these walls and I say again you reckon with me."<br>
+  <br>
+  His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and
+  his charge clinging to his arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Set but a foot outside these walls and <i>you</i> will reckon
+  with <i>me</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up
+  suddenly behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You meant to hide in the old Church of San Miguel because it is
+  so near to the home where you have kept this little girl. But
+  Gail Clarenden blocked your game and found your house and this
+  child in the church door before our wagon-train had reached the
+  end of the trail. You found this church your nearest refuge,
+  meaning to leave it again early in the morning. I have waited
+  here for you all day, protected by the same means that brought
+  word to Santa F&eacute; this morning. Come out now if you wish.
+  You dare not follow me to the States, but I dare to come to your
+  land. Can you meet me here?" Jondo was handsome in his sunny
+  moods. In his anger he was splendid.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero dropped to a seat beside Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have told you I cannot face that man. I will stay here now,"
+  he said, in a low voice to the priest. "But I do not stay here
+  always, and I can send where I do not follow," he added,
+  defiantly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden was already on his horse with his little charge,
+  snugly wrapped, in his arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef at the portal lifted his hand in sign of
+  blessing.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Peace be with you. Do not tarry long," he said. Then, turning to
+  Jondo, he gazed into the strong, handsome face. "Go in peace. He
+  will not follow. But forget not to love even your enemies."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the midnight dimness Jondo's bright smile glowed with all its
+  courageous sweetness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I finished that fight long ago," he said. "I come only to help
+  others."<br>
+  <br>
+  Long these two, priest and plainsman, stood there with clasped
+  hands, the gray night mists of the Santa F&eacute; Valley round
+  about them and all the far stars of the midnight sky gleaming
+  above them. Then Jondo mounted his horse and rode away up the
+  trail toward Santa F&eacute;. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  I will even make a way in the wilderness. --ISAIAH.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  Bent's fort stood alone in the wide wastes of the upper Arkansas
+  valley. From the Atlantic to the Pacific shores there was in
+  America no more isolated spot holding a man's home. Out on the
+  north bank of the Arkansas, in a grassy river bottom, with
+  rolling treeless plains rippling away on every hand, it reared
+  its high yellow walls in solitary defiance, mute token of the
+  white man's conquering hand in a savage wilderness. It was a
+  great rectangle built of adobe brick with walls six feet through
+  at the base, sloping to only a third of that width at the top,
+  eighteen feet from the ground. Round bastions, thirty feet high,
+  at two diagonal corners, gave outlook and defense. Immense wooden
+  doors guarded a wide gateway looking eastward down the Arkansas
+  River. The interior arrangement was after the Mexican custom of
+  building, with rooms along the outer walls all opening into a big
+  <i>patio</i>, or open court. A cross-wall separated this court
+  from the large corral inside the outer walls at the rear. A
+  portal, or porch, roofed with thatch on cedar poles, ran around
+  the entire inner rectangle, sheltering the rooms somewhat from
+  the glare of the white-washed court. A little world in itself was
+  this Bent's Fort, a self-dependent community in the solitary
+  places. The presiding genius of this community was William Bent,
+  whose name is graven hard and deep in the annals of the eastern
+  slopes of the Rocky Mountain country in the earlier decades of
+  the nineteenth century.<br>
+  <br>
+  Hither in the middle '40's the wild trails of the West converged:
+  northward, from the trading-posts of Bent and St. Vrain on the
+  Platte; south, over the Raton Pass from Taos and Santa F&eacute;;
+  westward, from the fur-bearing plateaus of the Rockies, where
+  trappers and traders brought their precious piles of pelts down
+  the Arkansas; and eastward, half a thousand miles from the
+  Missouri River frontier--the pathways of a restless, roving
+  people crossed each other here. And it was toward this wilderness
+  crossroads that Esmond Clarenden directed his course in that
+  summertime of my boyhood years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The heat of a July sun beat pitilessly down on the scorching
+  plains. The weary trail stretched endlessly on toward a somewhere
+  in the yellow distance that meant shelter and safety. Spiral
+  gusts of air gathering out of the low hills to the southeast
+  picked up great cones of dust and whirled them zigzagging across
+  the brown barren face of the land. Every draw was bone dry; even
+  the greener growths along their sheltered sides, where the last
+  moisture hides itself, wore a sickly sallow hue.<br>
+  <br>
+  Under the burden of this sun-glare, and through these stifling
+  dust-cones, our little company struggled sturdily forward.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had left Santa F&eacute; as suddenly and daringly as we had
+  entered it, the very impossibility of risking such a journey
+  again being our, greatest safeguard. Esmond Clarenden was doing
+  the thing that couldn't be done, and doing it quickly.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the gray dawn after that midnight ride to Agua Fria a little
+  Indian girl had slipped like a brown shadow across the Plaza.
+  Stopping at the door of the Exchange Hotel, she leaned against
+  the low slab of petrified wood that for many a year served as a
+  loafer's roost before the hotel doorway. Inside the building
+  Jondo caught the clear twitter of a bird's song at daybreak,
+  twice repeated. A pause, and then it came again, fainter this
+  time, as if the bird were fluttering away through the Plaza
+  treetops.<br>
+  <br>
+  In that pause, the gate in the wall had opened softly, and Aunty
+  Boone's sharp eyes peered through the crack. The girl caught one
+  glimpse of the black face, then, dropping a tiny leather bag
+  beside the stone, she sped away.<br>
+  <br>
+  A tall young Indian boy, prone on the ground behind a pile of
+  refuse in the shadowy Plaza, lifted his head in time to see the
+  girl glide along the portal of the Palace of the Governors and
+  disappear at the corner of the structure. Then he rose and
+  followed her with silent moccasined feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Jondo, who had hurried to the hotel door, saw only the lithe
+  form of an Indian boy across the Plaza. Then his eye fell on the
+  slender bag beside the stone slab. It held a tiny scrap of paper,
+  bearing a message:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><i>Take long trail QUICK. Mexicans follow
+  far</i>. Trust bearer anywhere.<br>
+  JOSEF.</p>
+
+  <p>An hour later we were on our way toward the open prairies and
+  the Stars and Stripes afloat above Fort Leavenworth.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the wagon beside Mat Nivers was the little girl whose face had
+  been clear in the mystic vision of my day-dreams on the April
+  morning when I had gone out to watch for the big fish on the
+  sand-bars; the morning when I had felt the first heart-throb of
+  desire for the trail and the open plains whereon my life-story
+  would later be written.<br>
+  <br>
+  We carried no merchandise now. Everything bent toward speed and
+  safety. Our ponies and mules were all fresh ones--secured for
+  this journey two hours after we had come into Santa
+  F&eacute;--save for the big sturdy dun creature that Uncle
+  Esmond, out of pure sentiment, allowed to trail along behind the
+  wagons toward his native heath in the Missouri bottoms.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had crossed the Gloriettas and climbed over the Raton Pass
+  rapidly, and now we were nearing the upper Arkansas, where the
+  old trail turns east for its long stretch across the
+  prairies.<br>
+  <br>
+  As far as the eye could see there was no living thing save our
+  own company in all the desolate plain aquiver with heat and ashy
+  dry. The line of low yellow bluffs to the southeast hardly cast a
+  shadow save for a darker dun tint here and there.<br>
+  <br>
+  At midday we drooped to a brief rest beside the sun-baked
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You all jus' one color," Aunty Boone declared. "You all like the
+  dus' you made of 'cep' Little Lees an' me. She's white and I'm
+  black. Nothin' else makes a pin streak on the face of the
+  earth."<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone flourished on deserts and her black face glistened in
+  the sunlight. Deep in the shadow of the wagon cover the face of
+  Eloise St. Vrain--"Little Lees," Aunty Boone had named
+  her--bloomed pink as a wild rose in its frame of soft hair. She
+  had become Aunty Boone's meat and drink from the moment the
+  strange African woman first saw her. This regard, never expressed
+  in caress nor word of tenderness, showed itself in warding from
+  the little girl every wind of heaven that might visit her too
+  roughly. Not that Eloise gave up easily. Her fighting spirit made
+  her rebel against weariness and the hardships of trail life new
+  to her. She fitted into our ways marvelously well, demanding
+  equal rights, but no favors. By some gentle appeal, hardly put
+  into words, we knew that Uncle Esmond did not want us to talk to
+  her about herself. And Beverly and Mat and I, however much we
+  might speculate among ourselves, never thought of resisting his
+  wishes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise was gracious with Mat, but evidently the boy Marcos had
+  made her wary of all boys. She paid no attention to Beverly and
+  me at first. All her pretty smiles and laughing words were for
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo. And she was lovely. Never in all these
+  long and varied years have I seen another child with such a
+  richness of coloring, nor such a mass of golden hair rippling
+  around her forehead and falling in big, soft curls about her
+  neck. Her dark eyes with their long black lashes gave to her face
+  its picturesque beauty, and her plump, dimpled arms and sturdy
+  little form bespoke the wholesome promise of future years.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the life of the trail was not meant for such as she, and I
+  know now that the assurance of having saved her from some greater
+  misfortune alone comforted Uncle Esmond and Jondo in this
+  journey. For Aunty Boone was right when she declared, "They tote
+  together always."<br>
+  <br>
+  As we grouped together under that shelterless glare, getting what
+  comfort we could out of the brief rest, Jondo sprang up suddenly,
+  his eyes aglow with excitement.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter? Because if it isn't, this is one hot day to
+  pretend like it is," Rex Krane asserted.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was lying on the hot earth beside the trail, his hat pulled
+  over his face. Beverly and Bill Banney were staring dejectedly
+  across the landscape, seeing nothing. I sat looking off toward
+  the east, wondering what lay behind those dun bluffs in the
+  distance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Something is wrong back yonder," Jondo declared, making a
+  half-circle with his hand toward the trail behind us.<br>
+  <br>
+  My heart seemed to stop mid-beat with a kind of fear I had never
+  known before. Aunty Boone had always been her own defender. Mat
+  Nivers had cared for me so much that I never doubted her bigger
+  power. It was for Eloise, Aunty Boone's "Little Lees," that my
+  fear leaped up.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can close my eyes to-day and see again the desolate land banded
+  by the broad white trail. I can see the dusty wagons and our
+  tired mules with drooping heads. I can see the earnest, anxious
+  faces of Esmond Clarenden and Jondo; Beverly and Bill Banney
+  hardly grasping Jondo's meaning; Rex Krane, half asleep on the
+  edge of the trail. I can see Mat Nivers, brown and strong, and
+  Aunty Boone oozing sweat at every pore. But these are only the
+  setting for that little girl on the wagon-seat with white face
+  and big dark eyes, under the curl-shadowed forehead.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo stared hard toward the hills in the southeast. Then he
+  turned to my uncle with grim face and burning eyes; His was a
+  wonderful voice, clear, strong and penetrating. But in danger he
+  always spoke in a low tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've watched those dust-whirls for an hour. The wind isn't
+  making all of them. Somebody is stirring them up for cover. Every
+  whirl has an Indian in it. It's all of ten miles to Bent's. We
+  must fight them off and let the others run for it, before they
+  cut us off in front. Look at that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The exclamation burst from the plainsman's lips.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was my last straight looking. The rest is ever a
+  kaleidoscope of action thrilled through with terror. What I saw
+  was a swiftly moving black splotch coming out of the hills, with
+  huge dust-heaps flying here and there before it. Then a yellow
+  cloud spiral blinded our sight as a gust of hot wind swept round
+  us. I remember Jondo's stern face and blazing eyes and his
+  words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mexicans behind the Indians!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And Uncle Esmond's voice:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Narveo said they would get us, but I hoped we had outrun
+  them."<br>
+  <br>
+  The far plains seemed spotted with Indians racing toward us, and
+  coming at an angle from the southeast a dozen Mexicans swept in
+  to cut us off from the trail in front.<br>
+  <br>
+  I remember a quick snatching of precious things in boxes placed
+  for such a moment as this, a quick snapping of halter ropes
+  around the ponies' necks, a gleaming of gun-barrels in the hot
+  sunlight; a solid cloud of dust rolling up behind us, bigger and
+  nearer every second; and the urgent voice of Jondo: "Ride for
+  your lives!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And the race began. On the trail somewhere before us was Bent's
+  Fort. We could only hope to reach it soon. We did not even look
+  behind as we tore down that dusty wilderness way.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the first motion Aunty Boone had seized Eloise St. Vrain with
+  one hand and the big dun mule's neck-strap with the other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go to the devil, you tigers and cannibals!" She roared with the
+  growl of a desert lioness, shaking her big black fist at the band
+  of Mexicans pouring out of the hills.<br>
+  <br>
+  And dun mule and black woman and white-faced, terror-stricken
+  child became only a dust-cloud far in front of us. Mat and
+  Beverly and I leaped to the ponies and followed the lead of the
+  African woman. Nearest to us was Rex Krane, always a shield for
+  the younger and less able. And behind him, as defense for the
+  rear and protection for the van, came Esmond Clarenden and Bill
+  Banney, with Jondo nearest the enemy, where danger was
+  greatest.<br>
+  <br>
+  I tell it calmly, but I lived it in a blind whirl. The swift
+  hoof-beat, the wild Indian yells, the whirl of arrows and whiz of
+  bullets, the onrush to outrun the Mexicans who were trying to cut
+  us off from the trail in front. Lived it! I lived ages in it. And
+  then an arrow cut my pony's flank, making him lurch from the
+  trail, a false step, the pony staggering, falling. A sharp pain
+  in my shoulder, the smell of fire, a shriek from demon throats,
+  the glaring sunlight on the rocking plain, searing my eyes in a
+  mad whirlpool of blinding light, the fading sounds--and then--all
+  was black and still.</p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p>When I opened my eyes again I was lying on a cot. Bare adobe
+  walls were around me, and a high plastered roof resting on cedar
+  poles sheltered that awful glare from my eyes. Through the open
+  door I could see the rain falling on the bare ground of the
+  court, filling the shallow places with puddles.<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to lift myself to see more as shrieks of childish
+  laughter caught my ear, but there was a sickish heat in my dry
+  skin, an evil taste in my throat, and a sharp pain in my left
+  shoulder; and I fell back again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Another shriek, and Eloise St. Vrain came before my doorway,
+  pattering with bare white feet out into the center of the
+  <i>patio</i> puddles and laughing at the dashing summer shower.
+  Her damp hair, twisted into a knot on top of her head, was
+  curling tightly about her temples and neck, her eyes were
+  shining; her wet clothes slapping at her bare white knees--a
+  picture of the delicious happiness of childhood. A little child
+  of three or four years was toddling after her. He was brown as a
+  berry, and at first I thought he was a little Indian. I could
+  hear Mat and Beverly splashing about safe and joyous somewhere,
+  and I forgot my fever and pain and the dread of that awful glare
+  coming again to sear my burning eyeballs as I watched and
+  listened. A louder shriek as the little child ran behind Eloise
+  and gave her a vigorous shove for one so small.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you've done," Mat cried; and then
+  Beverly was picking up "Little Lees," sprawling, all mud-smeared
+  and happy, in the very middle of the court.<br>
+  <br>
+  The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a
+  wicked mischief, but he said not a word.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a
+  cot beyond mine. An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me.
+  I stared back at him and neither of us spoke. His head was
+  bandaged and his cheek was swollen, but with my memory for faces,
+  even Indian faces, I knew him at once for the boy who had
+  followed us into Agua Fria and out of it again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are you awake?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and
+  Beverly and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious. They gave
+  no heed to the Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep. Once,
+  however, I caught him watching Beverly, and his eyes were like
+  dagger points.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are having the best times. You must get well right away,
+  because we are going to stay." They all began to clatter,
+  noisily.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clear out of here, you magpies," he commanded, and they scuttled
+  away into the warm rain and the puddles again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you want anything, Gail?" Rex asked, bending over me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I drew his head down with my right arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want that Indian out of here," I whispered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Out he goes," Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew
+  it the boy was taken away. When we were alone the tall young man
+  sat down beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You want to ask me a million questions. I'll answer 'em to save
+  you the trouble," he began, in his comfortable way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are wounded in your shoulder. Slight, bullet, that's
+  Mexican; deep, arrow, that's Indian. But you are here and pretty
+  much alive and you will be well soon."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Uncle Esmond? Jondo? Bill?" I began, lifting myself up on my
+  well arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Keep quiet. I'll answer faster. Everybody all right. Clarenden
+  and Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a
+  military escort permits."<br>
+  <br>
+  I dropped down again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The U.S. Army, en route for perdition, via Santa F&eacute;, is
+  camping in the big timbers down-stream now. Jondo and Esmond
+  Clarenden will leave you boys and girls here till it's safe to
+  take you out again. And I and Daniel Boone, vestal god and
+  goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep you from harm till that
+  time. Bill's joining the army for sure now, and our happy family
+  life is ended as far as the Santa F&eacute; Trail is concerned.
+  I'm a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell me about this." I pointed to my shoulder.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All in good time. It was a nasty mess of fish. A dozen Mexicans
+  and as many Indians had followed us all the way from the sunny
+  side of the Gloriettas. You and Bev and Mat had got by the
+  Mexics. Daniel Boone and 'Little Lees' were climbing the North
+  Pole by that time. The rest of us were giving battle straight
+  from the shoulder; and someway, I don't know how, just as we had
+  the gang beat back behind us--you had a sniff of a bullet just
+  then--an Indian slipped ahead in the dust. I was tendin' to mite
+  of an arrow wound in my right calf, and I just caught him in
+  time, aimin' at Bev; but he missed him for you. I got him,
+  though, and clubbed his scalp a bit loose."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex paused and stared at his right leg.<br>
+  <br>
+  "How did that boy get here, Rex? Is he a friendly Indian?" I
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Jondo brought him in out of the wet. Says the child was made
+  to come along, and as soon as he could get away from the gang he
+  had to run with up here; he came right into camp to help us
+  against them. Fine young fellow! Jondo has it from them in
+  authority that we can trust him lyin' or tellin' the truth.
+  <i>He's all right</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How did he get hurt?" I inquired, still remembering in my own
+  mind the day at Agua Fria.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it
+  happened," Rex replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up
+  with the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that
+  way. He's got faith in that redskin and he's going to see that he
+  gets back to New Mexico safely--after while."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex, that's the same boy that was down in Agua Fria, the one Bev
+  laughed at. He's no good Indian," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are too wise, Gail Clarenden," Rex drawled, carelessly. "A
+  boy of your brains had ought to be born in Boston. Jondo and I
+  can't agree about him. His name, he says, is Santan. There's one
+  'n' too many. If you knock off the last one it makes him
+  Santa--'holy'; but if you knock out the middle it's Satan. We
+  don't knock out the same 'n', Jondo and me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the little child came tumbling noisily into the
+  room.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look here, youngun. You can't be makin' a racket here," Rex
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy stared at him, impudently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will, too," he declared, sullenly, kicking at my cot with all
+  his might.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex made no reply but, seizing the child around the waist, he
+  carried him kicking and screaming outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You stay out or I'll spank you!" Rex said, dropping him to the
+  ground.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy looked up with blazing eyes, but said nothing.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's little Charlie Bent. His daddy runs this splendid fort.
+  His mother is a Cheyenne squaw, and he's a grim clinger of a
+  half-breed. Some day he'll be a terror on these plains. It's in
+  him, I know. But that won't interfere with us any. And you
+  children are a lot safer here than out on the trail. Great God! I
+  wonder we ever got you here!" Rex's face was very grave. "Now go
+  to sleep and wake up well. No more thinkin' like a man. You can
+  be a child again for a while."<br>
+  <br>
+  Those were happy days that followed. Safe behind the strong walls
+  of old Fort Bent, we children had not a care; and with the stress
+  and strain of the trail life lifted from our young minds, we
+  rebounded into happy childhood living. Every day offered a new
+  drama to our wonder-loving eyes. We watched the big hide-press
+  for making buffalo robes and furs into snug bales. We climbed to
+  the cupola of the headquarters department and saw the soldiers
+  marching by on their way to New Mexico. We saw the Ute and the
+  Red River Comanche come filing in on their summer expeditions
+  from the mountains. We saw the trade lines from the far north
+  bearing down to this wilderness crossroads with their early fall
+  stock for barter.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our playground was the court off which all the rooms opened. And
+  however wild and boisterous the scenes inside those walls in that
+  summer of 1846, in four young lives no touch of evil took root.
+  Stronger than the six-feet width of wall, higher than the
+  eighteen feet of adobe brick guarding us round about, was the
+  stern strength of the young Boston man interned in the fort to
+  protect us from within, as the strength of that structure
+  defended us from without.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet he might have failed sometimes, had it not been for Aunty
+  Boone. Nobody trifled with her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You let them children be. An give 'em the run of this shack,"
+  she commanded of the lesser powers whose business was to domineer
+  over the daily life there. "The man that makes trouble wide as a
+  needle is across is goin' to meet me an' the Judgment Day the
+  same minute."<br>
+  <br>
+  "When Daniel gets on her crack-o'-doom voice, the mountains goin'
+  to skip like rams and the little hills like lambs, an' the Army
+  of the West won't be necessary to protect the frontier," Rex
+  declared. But he knew her worth to his cause, and he welcomed
+  it.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so with her brute force and his moral strength we were
+  unconsciously intrenched in a safety zone in this far-isolated
+  place.<br>
+  <br>
+  With neither Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in
+  our remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we
+  needed. For with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in
+  which a child's day may be harried unless the child asserts
+  himself. We had the years of children but the sturdy defiance of
+  youth. So we were happy within our own little group, and we paid
+  little heed to the things that nobody else could forestall for
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child
+  of the proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered
+  into all of our sports with a quickness and perseverance and
+  wilfulness that was thoroughly American. He took defeat of his
+  wishes, and the equal measure of justice and punishment, with the
+  silent doggedness of an Indian; and on the edge of babyhood he
+  showed a spirit of revenge and malice that we, in our rollicking,
+  affectionate lives, with all our teasing and sense of humor,
+  could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and ignored his
+  imperious demands.<br>
+  <br>
+  Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending
+  him in everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if
+  we would submit to the making, which we seldom did.<br>
+  <br>
+  And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican
+  masters for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's
+  shrewdness, never to let us out of his sight. But he gave us no
+  opportunity to approach him. He lived in his own world, which was
+  a savage one, but he managed that it should overlap our world and
+  silently grasp all that was in it. Beverly had persistently tried
+  to be friendly for a time, for that was Beverly's way. Failing to
+  do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for all time.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly
+  told the Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good
+  Indians like her. She's one clipper."<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and
+  made no reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly
+  from that moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in
+  a corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season
+  and the night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the
+  open space, edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver.
+  There was much noise and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room
+  where the heads of affairs played together. Rex Krane had gone to
+  bed early. Out by the rear gate leading to the fort corral, Aunty
+  Boone was crooning a weird African melody. Crouching in the deep
+  shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the Indian boy, Santan,
+  listened to all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength
+  of the military guard who should keep us safe along the way.
+  Then, as children will, we began to speculate on what should
+  follow for us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill
+  and me. We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the
+  trail. I'm going back to Santa F&eacute; and kill that boy that
+  stared at me like he was crazy one day at Agua Fria."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to
+  us as Beverly ran on flippantly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the
+  Bents do, and live happily ever after."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time,"
+  Mat Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what
+  this long journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said,
+  meditatively. "He won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook
+  back the curly tresses, gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and
+  squeezed my hand as she sat beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from
+  home," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos
+  cuss's nose if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as
+  Aunty Boone would say," Beverly broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I
+  would have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we
+  talked together as boys do, in the confidences they never give to
+  anybody else.<br>
+  <br>
+  A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept
+  down inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises
+  inside the billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors
+  except ours were closed. Santan had crept between us and the two
+  open doorways leading to our rooms. What if he should slip
+  inside. A snake would have seemed better to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I
+  held it tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not
+  speak nor move. Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and
+  everything had grown weird and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of
+  some wild thing of the night plains outside crept to our ears,
+  making us shiver.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When the stars go to sleep an' the moon pulls up the gray
+  covers, it's time to shut your eyes an' forget." Aunty Boone's
+  soft voice broke the spell comfortingly for us. "Any crawlin'
+  thing that gits in my way now, goin' to be stepped on."<br>
+  <br>
+  At the low hissing sound of the last sentence there was a swift
+  scrambling along the shadows of the porch, and a door near the
+  kitchen snapped shut. The big shining face of the African woman
+  glistened above us and the court was flooded again with the
+  moon's silvery radiance. As we all sprang up to rush for our
+  rooms, "Little Lees" pulled me toward her and gently kissed my
+  cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You never would let Marcos in if he came to Fort Leavenworth,
+  would you?" she whispered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd break his head clear off first," I whispered back, and then
+  we scampered away.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night I dreamed again of the level plains and Uncle Esmond
+  and misty mountain peaks, but the dark eyes were not there,
+  though I watched long for them.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next day we left Fort Bent, and when I passed that way again
+  it was a great mass of yellow mounds, with a piece of broken wall
+  standing desolately here and there, a wreck of the past in a
+  solitary land. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h1>II<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="BUILDING" id="BUILDING">BUILDING THE TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="IX" id="IX">IX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    Love took me softly by the hand,<br>
+      Love led me all the country o'er,<br>
+    And showed me beauty in the land,<br>
+      That I had never seen before.<br>
+                  --ANONYMOUS.<br></p>
+
+  <p>You might not be able to find the house to-day, nor the high
+  bluff whereon it stood. So many changes have been wrought in half
+  a century that what was green headland and wooded valley in the
+  far '50's may be but a deep cut or a big fill for a new roadway
+  or factory site to-day. So diligently has Kansas City fulfilled
+  the scriptural prophecy that "every valley shall be exalted, and
+  every mountain and hill shall be made low."<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the great stream bends to the east, the rugged heights
+  about its elbow, Aunty Boone, in those days, was wont to declare,
+  did not offer enough level ground to set a hen on. Small reason
+  was there then to hope that a city, great and gracious, would one
+  day cover those rough ravines and grace those slopes and hilltops
+  in the angle between the Missouri and the Kaw.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had resented leaving Fort Leavenworth when the
+  Clarenden business made the young city at the Kaw's mouth more
+  desirable for a home. But Esmond Clarenden foresaw that a
+  military post, when the protection it offers is no longer needed,
+  will not, in itself, be a city-builder. The war had brought New
+  Mexico into United States territory; railroads were slowly
+  creeping westward toward the Mississippi River; steamboats and
+  big covered wagons were bringing settlers into Kansas, where
+  little cabins were beginning to mark the landscape with new
+  hearth-stones. Congress was wrangling over the great slavery
+  question. The Eastern lawmakers were stupidly opposing the
+  efforts of Missouri statesmen to extend mail routes westward, or
+  to spend any energy toward developing that so-called worthless
+  region which they named "the great American desert." And the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail was now more than ever the highway for the
+  commerical treasures of the Rocky Mountains and the great
+  Southwest.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was the time of budding things. In the valley of the Missouri
+  the black elm boughs, the silvery sycamores and cottonwoods, and
+  the vines on the gray rock-faced cliffs were veiled in shimmering
+  draperies of green, with here and there a little group of orchard
+  trees faintly pink against the landscape's dainty verdure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden and I stood on the deck of a river steamer as
+  it made the wharf at old Westport Landing, where Esmond Clarenden
+  waited for us. And long before the steamer's final bump against
+  the pier we had noted the tall, slender girl standing beside him.
+  We had been away three years, the only schooling outside of Uncle
+  Esmond's teaching we were ever to have. We were big boys now,
+  greatly conscious of hands and feet in our way, "razor broke,"
+  Aunty Boone declared, brimful of hilarity and love of adventure,
+  and eager for the plains life, and the dangers of the old trail
+  by which we were to conquer or be conquered. In the society of
+  women we were timid and ill at ease. Aside from this we were
+  self-conceited, for we knew more of the world and felt ourselves
+  more important on that spring morning than we ever presumed to
+  know or dared to feel in all the years that followed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who is she, Gail, that tall one by little fat Uncle Esmond?"
+  Beverly questioned, as we neared the wharf. "You don't reckon
+  he's married, Bev? He's all of twenty-four or five years older
+  than we are, and we aren't calves any more." I replied, scanning
+  the group on the wharf.<br>
+  <br>
+  But we forgot the girl in our eagerness to bound down the
+  gang-plank and hug the man who meant all that home and love could
+  mean to us. In our three growing years we had almost eliminated
+  Mat Nivers, save as a happy memory, for mails were slow in those
+  days and we were poor letter-writers; and we had wondered how to
+  meet her properly now. But when the tall, slender girl on the
+  wharf came forward and we looked into the wide gray eyes of our
+  old-time playmate whom, as little boys, we had both vowed to
+  marry, we forgot everything in our overwhelming love for our
+  comrade-in-arms, our jolliest friend and counselor.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Mat, you miserable thing!" Beverly bubbled, hugging her in
+  his arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are just bigger and sweeter than ever. I mistook you for
+  Aunty Boone at first," I chimed in, kissing her on each cheek.
+  And we all bundled away in an old-fashioned, low-swung carriage,
+  happy as children again, with no barrier between us and the dear
+  playmate of the past.<br>
+  <br>
+  The new home, on the high crest overlooking the Missouri valley,
+  nestled deep in the shade of maple and elm trees, a mansion,
+  compared to that log house of blessed memory at Fort Leavenworth.
+  A winding road led up the steep slope from a wooded ravine where
+  a trail ran out from the little city by the river's edge. Vistas
+  of sheer cliff and stretches of the muddy on-sweeping Missouri
+  and the full-bosomed Kaw, with scrubby timbered ravines and
+  growing groves of forest trees, offered themselves at every turn.
+  And from the top of the bluff the world unrolled in a panorama of
+  nature's own shaping and coloring.<br>
+  <br>
+  The house was built of stone, with vines climbing about its thick
+  walls, and broad veranda. And everywhere Mat's hands had put
+  homey touches of comfort and beauty. An hundredfold did she
+  return to Esmond Clarenden all the care and protection he had
+  given to her in her orphaned childhood. And, after all, it was
+  not military outposts, nor railroads, nor mail-lines alone that
+  pushed back the wilderness frontier. It was the hand of woman
+  that also builded empire westward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat's got her wish at last," I said, as we sat with Uncle Esmond
+  after dinner under a big maple tree and looked out at the far
+  yellow Missouri, churning its spring floods to foam against the
+  snags along its high-water bound.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's Mat's wish?" Uncle Esmond asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To have a good home and <i>stay there</i>. She wished that one
+  night, years ago back in old Fort Bent. Don't you remember, Bev,
+  when we were out in the court, and how scared blue we all were
+  when the moon went under a cloud, and that Indian boy, Santan,
+  was creeping between us and the home base?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I don't remember anything except that we were in Fort Bent.
+  Got in by the width of a hair ahead of some Mexicans and Indians,
+  and got out again after a jolly six weeks. What's the real job
+  for us now, Uncle Esmond?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond was staring out toward the Kaw valley, rimmed by
+  high bluffs in the distance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know about Mat having her wish," he said, thoughtfully,
+  "but never mind. Trade is booming and I'm needing help on the
+  trail this spring. Jondo starts west in two weeks."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I sprang up. Six feet of height, muscular,
+  adventure-loving, fearless, we had been made to order for the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail. And if I was still a dreamer and caught
+  sometimes the finer side of ideals, where Beverly Clarenden saw
+  only the matter-of-fact, visible things, no shrewder, braver,
+  truer plainsman ever walked the long distances of the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail than this boy with his bright face and
+  happy-go-lucky spirit unpained by dreams, untrammeled by
+  fancies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Two weeks! We are ready to start right after supper," we
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I have other matters first," Uncle Esmond said. "Beverly,
+  you must go up to Fort Leavenworth and arrange a lot of things
+  with Banney for this trip. He's to go, too, because military
+  escort is short this season."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Suits me!" Beverly declared. "Old Bill Banney and I always could
+  get along together. And this infant here?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to send Gail down to the Catholic Mission, in Kansas.
+  You remember little Eloise St. Vrain, of course?" Uncle Esmond
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We do!" Beverly assured him. "Pretty as a doll, gritty as a
+  sand-bar, snappy as a lobster's claw--she dwells within my memory
+  yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  All girls were little children to us, for the scheme of things
+  had not included them in our affairs.<br>
+  <br>
+  I threw a handful of grass in the boy's face, and Uncle Esmond
+  went on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's been at St. Ann's School at the Osage Mission down on the
+  Neosho River for two or three years, and now she is going to St.
+  Louis. In these troublesome times on the border, if I have a
+  personal interest, I feel safer if some big six-footer whom I can
+  trust comes along as an escort from the Neosho to the Missouri,"
+  Uncle Esmond explained.<br>
+  <br>
+  And then we spoke of other things: the stream of emigration
+  flowing into the country, the possibilities of the prairies, the
+  future of the city that should hold the key to the whole
+  Southwest, and especially of the chance and value of the trail
+  trade.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the big artery that carries the nation's life-blood here,"
+  Esmond Clarenden declared. "Some day when the West is full of
+  people, and dowered with prosperity, it may remember the men who
+  built the highway for the feet of trade to run in. And the West
+  may yet measure its greatness somewhat by the honesty and
+  faithfulness of the merchant of the frontier, and more by the
+  courage and persistence of the boys who drove the ox-teams across
+  the plains. Don't forget that you yourselves are State-builders
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  He spoke earnestly, but his words meant little to me. I was
+  looking out toward the wide-sweeping Kaw and thinking of the
+  journey I must make, and wondering if I should ever feel at ease
+  in the society of women. Wondering, too, what I should say, and
+  how I should really take care of "Little Lees," who had crossed
+  the plains with us almost a decade ago; the girl who had held my
+  hand tightly one night at old Fort Bent when the shadow had
+  slipped across the moon and filled the silvery court with a gray,
+  ghostly light.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night the old heart-hunger of childhood came back to me, the
+  visions of the day-dreaming little boy that were almost forgotten
+  in the years that had brought me to young manhood. And clearly
+  again, as when I heard Uncle Esmond's voice that night on the
+  tableland above the valley of the Santa F&eacute;, I heard his
+  gentle words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must fight
+  for, and even die for, that those who come after us may be the
+  better for our having them."<br>
+  <br>
+  But these thoughts passed with the night, and in my youth and
+  inexperience I took on a spirit of fatherly importance as I went
+  down to St. Ann's to safeguard a little girl on her way through
+  the Kansas territory to the Missouri River.<br>
+  <br>
+  It had been a beautiful day, and there was a freshness in the
+  soft evening breeze, and an up-springing sweetness from the
+  prairies. A shower had passed that way an hour before, and the
+  spirit of growing things seemed to fill the air with a voiceless
+  music.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at sunset the stage from the north put me down in front of
+  St. Ann's Academy in the little Osage Mission village on the
+  Neosho.<br>
+  <br>
+  A tall nun, with commanding figure and dignified bearing, left
+  the church steps across the road and came slowly toward me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am looking for Mother Bridget, the head of this school," I
+  said, lifting my hat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am Mother Bridget." The voice was low and firm. One could not
+  imagine disobedience under her rule.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come from Mr. Esmond Clarenden, to act as escort for a little
+  girl, Eloise St. Vrain, who is to leave here on the stage for
+  Kansas City to-morrow," I hesitatingly offered my letter of
+  introduction, which told all that I had tried to say, and
+  more.<br>
+  <br>
+  The woman's calm face was gentle, with the protective gentleness
+  of the stone that will not fail you when you lean on it. One felt
+  sure of Mother Bridget, as one feels sure of the solid rock to
+  build upon. She looked at me with keen, half-quizzical eyes. Then
+  she said, quietly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find the little girl down by Flat Rock Creek. The
+  Indian girl, Po-a-be, is with her. There may be several Indian
+  girls down there, but Po-a-be is alone with little Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  I bowed and turned away, conscious that, with this good nun's
+  sincerity, she was smiling at me back of her eyes somehow.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I followed the way leading to the creek I passed a group or
+  two of Indian girls--St. Ann's, under the Loretto Sisterhood, was
+  fundamentally a mission school for these--and a trio of young
+  ladies, pretty and coquettish, with daring, mischievous eyes,
+  whose glances made me flush hot to the back of my neck as I
+  stumbled by them on my way to the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last sun rays were glistening on the placid waters of the
+  Flat Rock, and all the world was softly green, touched with a
+  golden glamour. I paused by a group of bushes to let the spell of
+  the hour have its way with me. I have always loved the beautiful
+  things of earth; as much now as in my childhood days, when I felt
+  ashamed to let my love be known; as now I dare to tell it only on
+  paper, and not to that dear, great circle of men and women who
+  know me best to-day.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sound of footsteps and the murmur of soft voices fitted into
+  the sweetness of that evening hour as two girls, one of them an
+  Indian, came slowly down a well-worn path from the fields above
+  the Flat Rock Valley. They did not see me as they sat down on
+  some broad stones beside the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  I started forward to make myself known, but caught myself
+  mid-step, for here was a picture to make any man pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl facing me was Little Blue Flower, the Kiowas'
+  captive, whom we had rescued at Pawnee Rock. Her heavy black hair
+  was coiled low on her neck, a headband of fine silverwork with
+  pink coral pendants was bound about her forehead and gleaming
+  against her jetty hair. With her well-poised head, her pure
+  Indian features, her lustrous dark eyes, her smooth brown skin,
+  her cheeks like the heart of those black-red roses that grow only
+  in richest soil--surely there was no finer type of that vanishing
+  race in all the Indian pueblos of the Southwest. But the girl
+  beside her! Was it really so many years ago that I stood by the
+  bushes on the Flat Rock's edge and saw that which I see so
+  clearly now? Then these years have been gracious indeed to me.
+  The sun's level beams fell on the masses of golden waves that
+  swept in soft little ripples back from the white brow to a coil
+  of gold on the white neck, held, like the Indian girl's, with a
+  headband of wrought silver, and goldveined turquoise; it fell on
+  the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the cheek, the red
+  lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their fringe of
+  long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the curves
+  of the white throat and the round white arms. Only a master's
+  hand could make you see these two, beautiful in their sharp
+  contrast of deep brown and scarlet against the dainty white and
+  gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Little Blue Flower, it will not make me change."<br>
+  <br>
+  I caught the words as I stepped toward the two, and the Indian's
+  soft, mournful answer:<br>
+  <br>
+  "But you are Miss St. Vrain now. You go away in the morning--and
+  I love you always."<br>
+  <br>
+  The heart in me stopped just when all its flood had reached my
+  face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Miss St. Vrain," I repeated, aloud.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two sprang up. That afternoon they had been dressed for a
+  girls' frolic in some Grecian fashion. I cannot tell a Watteau
+  pleat from window-curtain. I am only a man, and I do not name
+  draperies well. But these two standing before me were gowned
+  exactly alike, and yet I know that one was purely and
+  artistically Greek, and one was purely and gracefully Indian.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I beg your pardon. I am Mr. Clarenden," I managed to say.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the name Little Blue Flower's eyes looked as they did on that
+  hot May night out at Pawnee Rock when she heard Beverly
+  Clarenden's boyish voice ring out, defiantly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  But the great light that had leaped into the girl's eyes died
+  slowly out as she gazed at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are not Beverly Clarenden," she said, in a low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I'm Gail, the little one. Bev is up at Fort Leavenworth
+  now," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  She turned away without a word and, gathering her draperies about
+  her, sped up the pathway toward the fields above the
+  creek.<br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  And we two were alone together--the dark-eyed girl of my boyhood
+  vision, deep-shrined in the boy-heart's holy of holies, and I who
+  had waited for her coming. It was the hour of golden sunset and
+  long twilight afterglow on the glistening Flat Rock waters and
+  the green prairies beyond the Neosho.<br>
+  <br>
+  A sudden awakening came over me, and in one swift instant I
+  understood my boyhood dreams and hopes and visions.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will pardon me for coming so abruptly, Miss St. Vrain," I
+  said. "Mother Bridget told me I would find you here."<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl listened to my stumbling words with eyes full of
+  laughter.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't call me Miss St. Vrain, please. Let me be Eloise, and I
+  can call you Gail. Even with your height and your broad shoulders
+  you haven't changed much. And in all these years I was always
+  thinking of you growing up just as you are. Let's sit down and
+  get acquainted again."<br>
+  <br>
+  She offered me her hand and we sat down together. I could not
+  speak then, for one sentence was ringing in my ears--"I was
+  always thinking of you." In those years when Beverly and I had
+  put away all thoughts of sweethearts--they could not be a part of
+  the plainsman's life before us--sweethearts such as older boys in
+  school boasted about, "she was always thinking of me." The
+  thought brought a keen hurt as if I had done her some great
+  wrong, and it held me back from words.<br>
+  <br>
+  She could not interpret my silence, and a look of timidity crept
+  over her young face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't mean to be so--so bold with a stranger," she began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aren't bold, and we aren't strangers. I was just too stupid
+  to think anybody else could get out of childhood except old Bev
+  Clarenden and myself," I managed to say at last. "I even forgot
+  Mat Nivers, who is a young lady now, and Aunty Boone, who hasn't
+  changed a kink of her woolly hair. But we couldn't be strangers.
+  Not after that trip across the plains and living at old Fort Bent
+  as we did."<br>
+  <br>
+  I paused, and the memory of that last night at the fort made me
+  steal a glance at Eloise to see if she, too, remembered.<br>
+  <br>
+  She was fair to see just then, with the pink clouds mirrored on
+  the placid waters reflected in the pink of her cheeks.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you remember what I called you the first time I saw you?" She
+  looked up with shining eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You called me a big brown bob-cat, and you said I looked like
+  I'd slept in the Hondo 'royo all my life. I know I looked it,
+  too. I'll forgive you if you will excuse my blunder to-day. What
+  became of that boy, Marcos? Have you ever seen him since you left
+  Santa F&eacute;?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The fair face clouded, and a look of longing crept into the big,
+  dark eyes lifted pleadingly a moment to mine. I wanted to take
+  her in my arms right then and look about for something to kill
+  for her sake. Yet I would not, for the gold of all the Mexicos,
+  have touched the hem of her Grecian robe.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I have seen Marcos many times. His father went to old
+  Mexico after the war, but the Rameros do not stay long anywhere.
+  Marcos made life miserable for me sometimes." She paused
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Rameros. Then he was the son of the man who was my uncle's
+  enemy. Maybe you did as much for him, too, sometimes. You had the
+  spirit to do it, anyhow," I said, lightly, to hide my real
+  feeling.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I was a little cat. I'm a lot better now. Let's not go too much
+  into that time. Tell me where you have been and where you are
+  going." Eloise changed the subject easily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've been in Cincinnati, attending a boys' school for three
+  years. I start for Santa F&eacute; in two weeks. My uncle's store
+  is doing a big over land business, and he keeps the ox-teams just
+  fanning one another, coming and going across the prairies. I'm
+  crazy to go and see the open plains again. Cincinnati is a city
+  on stilts, and our little Independence-Westport Landing-Kansas
+  City place, as the Cincinnati of the great American desert, is
+  also pretty bumpy, the last place on earth to put a town--only we
+  can see almost to Santa F&eacute;, New Mexico, from the hilltops.
+  Won't it be great to view that mud-walled town again? Bev is
+  going, too--to kill a few Indians for our winter's meat, he says,
+  in his wicked, blood-thirsty way." So I ran on, glad to be alive
+  in the delicious beauty of that spring evening as we together
+  went back over the days of our young years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, may we take another passenger to-morrow?" Eloise asked,
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, as many as the stage will hold! There's to be a nun and a
+  priest and yourself. I'm chaperon. I could take the priest on my
+  lap if he isn't too bulky," I answered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to take Po-a-be. I can't tell you why now." The lashes
+  dropped over the brown eyes, and I wondered how she could think
+  that I could refuse her anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we'll take her on faith and the stage-coach. She can come
+  right to Castle Clarenden and stay till she gets ready to hurdle
+  off to her own 'wickie up'. She has grown into a beautiful Indian
+  woman, though I couldn't call her a squaw."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She isn't a squaw. I'm glad to hear you say that. I think it
+  will make her very happy to stay at your home for a while. She
+  will miss me a little when we leave here, maybe," Eloise said,
+  looking at me with a grateful smile that sent a tingle to my
+  fingertips.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Won't you stay, too?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this
+  beautiful girl might slip away as easily as she had come into my
+  life here.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise laughed at my earnestness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I couldn't stay long," she said, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And why not?" I burst in, eagerly. "What have you in Santa
+  F&eacute;?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "A little money and a lot of memories," she replied,
+  seriously.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I can bring the money up to Kansas for you in an ox-train
+  easily enough, and you could blow up the old mud-box of a town
+  and not hurt a hair on the head of a single memory. You know you
+  can take them anywhere you go. I do mine."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to St. Louis, anyhow," Eloise returned, "and you have
+  no sacred memories--boys don't care for things like girls
+  do."<br>
+  <br>
+  "They don't? They don't? And I have forgotten the little girl who
+  was afraid one moonlit night out in the court at Fort Bent and
+  asked me that I shouldn't ever let Marcos pull her hair. Yes,
+  boys forget."<br>
+  <br>
+  I laid my hand on her arm and bent forward to look into her face.
+  For just one flash those big dark eyes looked straight at me,
+  with something in their depths that I shall never forget.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then she moved lightly from me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, all children remember, I suppose. I do, anyhow--a thousand
+  things I'd like to forget. It is lovely by the river. Suppose we
+  go down there for a little while. I must not stay out here too
+  long."<br>
+  <br>
+  I took her arm and we strolled down the quiet path in the
+  twilight sweetness to where the broad Neosho, brim full from the
+  spring rains, swept on between picturesque banks. The afterglow
+  of sunset was flaming gorgeously above the western prairies, and
+  the mists along the Neosho were lavender and mother-of-pearl. And
+  before all this had deepened to purple darkness the full moon
+  would swing up the sky, swathing the earth with a softened
+  radiance. All the beauty of this warm spring night seemed but a
+  setting for this girl in her graceful Greek draperies, with the
+  waving gold of her hair and her dainty pink-and-white
+  coloring.<br>
+  <br>
+  A new heaven and a new earth had begun for me, and a delicious
+  longing, clean and sweet, that swept every commoner feeling far
+  away. What matter that the life before me be filled with danger,
+  and all the coarse and cruel things of the hard days of the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail? In that hour I knew the best of life that a
+  young man can know. Its benediction after all these years of
+  change is on me still. Awhile we watched the flashing ripples on
+  the river, and the sky's darkening afterglow. Then we turned to
+  the moonlit east.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you know what the people of Hopi-land call this month?"
+  Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know Hopi words for what is beautiful," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They call it 'the Moon of the Peach Blossom', and they cherish
+  the time in their calendar."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then we will be Hopi people," I declared, "for it was in their
+  Moon of the Peach Blossom that you grew up for me from the little
+  girl who called me a bob-cat down in the doorway of the old San
+  Miguel Church in Santa F&eacute;, and from Aunty Boone's 'Little
+  Lees' at old Fort Bent, to the Eloise of St. Ann's by the Kansas
+  Neosho."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sound of a sweet-toned bell told us that we must not stay
+  longer, and together we followed the path from the Flat Rock up
+  to the academy door. And all the way was like the ways of
+  Paradise to me, for I was in the peach-blossom moon of my own
+  life. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="X" id="X">X</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE HANDS THAT CLING</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+      The hands that take<br>
+    No weight from your sad cross, oh, lighter far<br>
+    It were but for the burden that they bring!<br>
+    God only knows what hind'ring things they are--<br>
+      The hands that cling.<br>
+                      --ESTHER M. CLARK<br></p>
+
+  <p>The next morning three of us waited in the stage before the
+  door of St. Ann's Academy. A thin-faced nun, who was called
+  Sister Anita, sat beside Eloise St. Vrain, her snowy head-dress,
+  with her black veil and somber garments, contrasting sharply with
+  the silver-gray hat and traveling costume of her companion. Hints
+  of pink-satin linings to coat-collar and pocket-flaps, and the
+  pink facing of the broad hat-brim, seemed borrowed from the
+  silver and pink of misty morning skies, with the golden hair
+  catching the glint of all the early sunbeams. There was a
+  tenderness in the bright face, the sadness which parting puts
+  temporarily into young countenances. The girl looked lovingly at
+  the church, and St. Ann's, and the green fields reaching up to
+  the edge of the mission premises.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we waited, Mother Bridget and Little Blue Flower came slowly
+  out of the academy door. The good mother's arm was around the
+  Indian girl, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked down
+  affectionately at the dark face.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower, true to her heritage, gave no sign of grief
+  save for the burning light in her big, dry eyes. She listened
+  silently to Mother Bridget's parting words of advice and
+  submitted without response to the embrace and gentle good-by kiss
+  on her brown forehead.<br>
+  <br>
+  The good woman gazed into my face with penetrating eyes, as if to
+  measure my trustworthiness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will see that no harm comes to my little Po-a-be. The wolves
+  of the forest are not the only danger for the unprotected lambs,"
+  she said, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll do my best, Mother Bridget," I responded, feeling a
+  swelling pride in my double charge.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mother Bridget patted Eloise's hand and turned away. She loved
+  all of her girls, but her heart went out most to the Indian
+  maidens whom she led toward her civilization and her sacred
+  creed.<br>
+  <br>
+  As she turned away, the priest who was to go with us came out of
+  the church door to the stage.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower sat with the other two women, facing us, her
+  dark-green dress with her rich coloring making as strong a
+  contrast as the nun's black robe against the pink-touched
+  silver-gray gown. And the Indian face, strong, impenetrable, with
+  a faintly feminine softening of the racial features, and the
+  luminous black eyes, gave setting to the pure Saxon type of her
+  companion.<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned from the three to greet the priest and give him a place
+  beside me. His face seemed familiar, but it was not until I heard
+  his voice, in a courteous good-morning, that I knew him to be the
+  Father Josef who had met us on the way into Santa F&eacute; years
+  before, and who later had shown us the little golden-haired girl
+  asleep on the hard bench in the old mission church of Agua Fria.
+  A page of my boyhood seemed suddenly to have opened there, and I
+  wondered curiously at the meaning of it all. Life, that for three
+  years had been something of a monotonous round of action for a
+  boy of the frontier, was suddenly filling each day with events
+  worth while. I wondered many things concerning Father Josef's
+  presence there, but I had the grace to ask no questions as we
+  five journeyed over the rolling green prairies of Kansas in the
+  pleasant time of year which the Hopi calls the Moon of the Peach
+  Blossom.<br>
+  <br>
+  The priest appeared hardly a day older than when I had first seen
+  him, and he chatted genially as we rode along.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are losing two of our stars," he said, with a gallant little
+  bow. "Miss St. Vrain goes to St. Louis to relatives, I believe,
+  and Little Blue Flower, eventually, to New Mexico. St. Ann's
+  under Mother Bridget is doing a wonderful work among our people,
+  but it is not often that a girl comes here from such a distance
+  as New Mexico."<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to fancy what the Indian girl's thoughts might be as the
+  priest said this, but her face, as usual, gave no clue to her
+  mind's activity.<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the Santa F&eacute; Trail crossed the Wakarusa Father Josef
+  left us to join a wagon-train going west. Sister Anita, who was
+  hurrying back to Kentucky, she said, on some churchly errand,
+  took a steamer at Westport Landing, and the three of us came to
+  the Clarenden home on the crest of the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had washed off our travel stains and come out on the veranda
+  when we saw Beverly Clarenden standing in the sunlight, waiting
+  for us. I had never seen him look so handsome as he did that day,
+  dressed in the full regalia of the plains: a fringed and beaded
+  buckskin coat, dark pantaloons held inside of high-topped boots,
+  a flannel shirt, with a broad black silk tie fastened in a big
+  bow at his throat, and his wide-brimmed felt hat set back from
+  his forehead. Clean-shaven, his bright brown hair--a trifle long,
+  after the custom of the frontier--flung back from his brow, his
+  blooming face wearing the happy smile of youth, his tall form
+  easily erect, he seemed the very embodiment of that defiant power
+  that swept the old Santa F&eacute; Trail clean for the feet of
+  its commerce to run swiftly along. I am glad that I never envied
+  him--brother of my heart, who loved me so.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was not as surprised as I had been to find the grown-up girl
+  instead of the little child. That wasn't Beverly's way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm mighty glad to meet you again," he said, with jaunty air,
+  grasping Eloise by the hand. "You look just as--shall I say
+  promising, as ever."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm glad to see you, Beverly. You and Gail have been my biggest
+  assets of memory these many years." Eloise was at ease with him
+  in a moment. Somehow they never misunderstood each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I'm always an asset, but Gail here gets to be a liability if
+  you let him stay around too long."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here is somebody else. Don't you remember Little Blue Flower?"
+  Eloise interrupted him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower! Why, I should say I do! And are you that
+  little blossom?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face beamed, and he caught the Indian girl's hand in
+  both of his in a brotherly grasp. He wasn't to blame that nature
+  had made him frank and unimaginative.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I haven't forgotten the last time I saw your face in a wide
+  crack between two adobe shacks. A 'flower in the crannied wall'
+  in that 'pure water' sand-pile in New Mexico. I'd have plucked
+  you out of the cranny right then, if old Rex Krane hadn't given
+  us our 'forward march!' orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high
+  and sneaky as a cat, hadn't been lurking in the middle distance
+  to pluck <i>me</i> as a brand <i>for</i> the burning. And now you
+  are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How did you ever
+  get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but
+  at the mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright
+  face became expressionless.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth
+  the way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a
+  visit.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on,
+  gaily. "Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse
+  packing merchandise for the Santa F&eacute; trade. Even big black
+  Aunty Boone, getting supper in there, is still a feature of this
+  circus. If only that slim Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here
+  now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to be here soon, and if all goes
+  well he will go with us to Santa F&eacute; again. How about it,
+  Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"<br>
+  <br>
+  But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below
+  us. Her wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were
+  pink with excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane
+  striding up the hill, with the easy swing of vigorous health. No
+  longer the slender, slouching young idol of my boyhood days, with
+  Eastern cut of garment and devil-may-care dejection of manner,
+  all hiding a loving tenderness for the unprotected, and a daring
+  spirit that scorned danger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
+  tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace
+  pipe."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands
+  he reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And
+  he held them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful
+  eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the
+  trail in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always
+  looked at Mat when he talked to all of us. And I used to think
+  that he must have had a little sister like her. Now I knew in an
+  instant why Mat could not meet his eyes to-day with that
+  unconcern with which she met them when she was a child to me, and
+  he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown up. I knew
+  more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by the
+  shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
+  alive to every tint and odor and musical note for every other
+  wayfarer therein.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a glorious week that followed, and one to remember on
+  the long trail days coming to us. I have no quarrel with the
+  happy youth of to-day, but I feel no sense of loss nor spirit of
+  envy when they tell me--all young people are my friends--when
+  they tell me of golf-links and automobile rides, or even the
+  daring hint of airplanes. To the heart of youth the
+  gasolene-motor or the thrill of the air-craft to-day is no more
+  than the Indian pony and the uncertain chance of the crude old
+  canoe on the clear waters of the Big Blue when Kansas City was a
+  village and the Kansas prairies were in their virgin glory.<br>
+  <br>
+  Bill Banney had come out of the Mexican War, no longer an
+  adventure lover, but a seasoned frontiersman. His life knew few
+  of the gentler touches. He gave it to the plains, where so many
+  lives went, unhonored and unsung, into the building of an
+  enduring empire.<br>
+  <br>
+  We would have included him in all the frolic of that wonderful
+  week in the Moon of the Peach Blossom--but he gave us no
+  opportunity to do so. And we were young, and the society of girls
+  was a revelation to us. So with the carelessness of youth we
+  forgot him. We forgot many things that week that, in Heaven's
+  name, we had cause enough to remember in the years that followed
+  after.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's a theatrical troupe come up from St. Louis to play here
+  to-night," Rex Krane announced, after supper. "Mat, will you let
+  me take you down to see the villain get what's due all villains?
+  Then if we have to kill off Gail and Bev, it will not be so
+  awkward."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't we all go?" Mat suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Never mind us, Lady Nivers. Little Blue Flower, may I have the
+  pleasure of your company? I need protection to-night," Beverly
+  said, with much ceremony.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower was sitting next to him, or it might not have
+  begun that way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, say yes. He's no poorer company than that company of actors
+  down town," Rex urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl assented with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not smile often and when she did her eyes were full of
+  light, and her red lips and perfect white teeth were beautiful
+  enough for a queen to envy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Lees, it seems you are doomed to depend on Gail or jump
+  in the Kaw. I'd prefer the Kaw myself, but life is full of
+  troubles. One more can be endured." Rex had turned to Eloise St.
+  Vrain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Seems to me, having first choice, you might have been more
+  considerate of my lot yourself," Eloise declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He was. He saved you from a worse fate when he chose Mat," I
+  broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "May we have a song by the choir?" Beverly interrupted, and with
+  his full bass voice he began to roar our some popular tune of
+  that time.<br>
+  <br>
+  And it went on as it began, the rambles about the rugged bluffs
+  and picturesque ravines, where to-day the hard-surfaced Cliff
+  Drive makes a scenic highway through the beauty spots of a
+  populous city; the daring canoe rides on the rivers; the
+  gatherings of the young folk in the town; and the long twilight
+  hours on the crest of the bluff overlooking the two great
+  waterways. And as by the first selection, Beverly and Little Blue
+  Flower were companions. Nobody could be unhappy with Bev, least
+  of all the shy Indian girl with a face full of sunshine, now. And
+  I? I walked a pathway strewn with rose petals because the
+  golden-haired Little Lees was beside me. Each day was a frolic
+  day for us, teasing one another and making a joke of life, and
+  for the morrow we took no thought at all.<br>
+  <br>
+  One evening Eloise St. Vrain and I sat together on the bluff. It
+  was the twilight hour, and all the far valley of the Kaw was full
+  of iridescent misty lights, with gold-tipped clouds of pale
+  lavender above, and the glistening silver of the river below. We
+  could hear Beverly and Little Blue Flower laughing together in a
+  big swing among the maples. Aunty Boone was crooning some African
+  melodies in the bushes half-way down the slope. Rex and Mat had
+  gone to the ravine below to meet Uncle Esmond.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Lees, the first time I ever saw you you were away out
+  there in such a misty light as that, and I saw only your hair and
+  your eyes then, but as clearly as I see them now."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise turned questioningly toward me, and the light in her dark
+  eyes thrilled to the heart of me. In all her stay with us I had
+  hardly spoken earnestly of anything before.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When was that Gail?" she asked, the frivolous spirit gone from
+  her, too.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When I was a little boy, one day at Fort Leavenworth. And when I
+  caught sight of you at the door of old San Miguel I knew you," I
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl turned her face toward the west again and was silent. I
+  felt my cheeks flush hotly. I had made her think I was only a
+  dream-sick fool, when I had told her of the sacredest moment of
+  my life, and I had for the minute foolishly felt that she might
+  understand. How could I know that it was I who could not
+  understand?<br>
+  <br>
+  At last she looked up with a smile as full of mischief as on that
+  day when she had called me a big brown bob-cat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must have been having a nightmare in your sleep," she
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think I was," I replied, testily. "Let me tell you something,
+  Little Lees, something really important."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't believe you know one important thing," Eloise replied,
+  "but I'll listen, and then if it is I'll tell you something more
+  important."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm willing to hear it now. Tell me first," I replied, wondering
+  the while how nature, that gives rough-hewn bearded faces to men,
+  could make a face so daintily colored, in its youthful roundness,
+  as hers.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to start to St. Louis day after to-morrow at six
+  o'clock in the morning. Isn't that important?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Was there a real earnestness under the lightly spoken words, or
+  did I imagine it so? If I had only made sure then--but I was
+  young.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Important! It's a tragedy! I start west in three days, at eight
+  o'clock in the morning," I said, carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sometimes the gray shadows fall on us when neither sunlight nor
+  moonlight nor starlight is dimmed by any film of vapor. They fell
+  on me then, and I shivered in my soul. How could I speak
+  otherwise than carelessly and not show what must not be known?
+  And how could the girl beside me know that I was speaking thus to
+  keep down the shiver of that cold shadow? I suppose it must
+  always be the same old story, year after year-- </p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">till the leaves of the judgment book
+  unfold.</p>
+
+  <p>"What was that important something you were going to tell me?
+  What Mat told me last night when we were watching the moon rise?"
+  Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That Rex and Mat are going to be married to-morrow evening at
+  early candle-lighting--'early mosquito-biting,' Bev calls it. Rex
+  has loved Mat since the day when he joined our little wagon-train
+  out of a foolish sort of notion that he could protect us
+  children, otherwise his life was useless to him. But something in
+  his own boyhood made him pity all orphan children. I think it was
+  through neglect in childhood he became an invalid at nineteen. He
+  doesn't show the marks of it now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I paused and looked at the young girl beside me, whose eyes were
+  like stars in the deepening gloom of the evening. It was
+  delicious to have her look at me and listen to me. It was
+  delicious to live in a rose-hued twilight, and I forgot the chill
+  of that gray shadow lurking near.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next evening was entrancing with the soft air of spring, a
+  night made purposely for brides. The wedding itself was simple in
+  its appointments, as such events must needs be in the frontier
+  years. All day we had worked to decorate the plain stone house,
+  which the deftness of Little Blue Flower and the artistic touch
+  of Little Lees turned into a spring bower, with trailing vines
+  and blossoms everywhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat's wedding-gown was neither new nor elaborate, for the affair
+  had been too hastily decided on, but Eloise had made it
+  bride-like by draping a filmy veil over Mat's bright brown hair,
+  and Little Blue Flower had brought her long strands of turquoise
+  beads, "old and borrowed and blue," to fulfil the needs of every
+  bride.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the bridal party Beverly and I walked in front, followed by
+  the two girls in the white Greek robes which they had worn at the
+  school frolic at St. Ann's, and wearing their headbands, the one
+  of silver and turquoise, the other of silver and coral. Then came
+  Rex Krane and Bill Banney. Poor Bill! Nobody guessed that night
+  that the bridal blossoms were flowers on the coffin of his dead
+  hope. And last of all, Esmond Clarenden and Mat Nivers, with
+  shining eyes, leaning on his arm. I had never seen Uncle Esmond
+  in evening dress before, nor dreamed how splendid a figure he
+  could make for a drawing-room in the costume in which he was so
+  much at ease. But the handsomest man of all the large company
+  gathered there that night was Jondo, big, broad-shouldered Jondo,
+  his deep-blue eyes bright with joy for these two. And in the
+  background was Aunty Boone, resplendent in a new red calico
+  besprinkled with her favorite white dots, her head turbaned in a
+  yellow silk bandana, and about her neck a strand of huge green
+  glass beads. Her eyes glistened as she watched that night's
+  events, and her comfortable ejaculations of approval were like
+  the low purr of a satisfied cat. Then came the solemn pledges,
+  the benediction and congratulations. There was merrymaking and
+  singing, cake and unfermented wine of grapes for refreshing, and
+  much good will that night.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the guests were gone and the lights, save one kitchen
+  candle, were all out, I had slipped from the dining-room with the
+  last burden of dishes, when I paused a minute beside the open
+  kitchen window to let the midnight breeze cool my face.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the side porch, a little affair made to shelter the doorway, I
+  saw Beverly Clarenden and Little Blue Flower. He was speaking
+  gently, but with his blunt frankness, as he patted the two brown
+  hands clinging to his arm. The Indian girl's white draperies were
+  picturesque anywhere. In this dramatic setting they were
+  startlingly beautiful, and her face, outlined in the dim light,
+  was a thing rare to see. I could not hear her words, but her soft
+  Hopi voice had a tender tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was waiting to let them pass in when I heard Beverly's voice,
+  and I saw him bend over the little maiden, and, putting one arm
+  around her, he drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. I
+  knew it was a brother's sympathetic act--and all men know how
+  dangerous a thing that is; that there are no ties binding brother
+  to sister except the bonds of kindred blood. The girl slipped
+  inside the dining-room door, and a minute later a candle
+  flickered behind her bedroom window-blind in the gable of the
+  house. I waited for Beverly to go, determined never to mention
+  what I had seen, when I caught the clear low voice whose tones
+  could make my pulse thresh in its walls.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly, Beverly, it breaks my heart--" I lost the remainder of
+  the sentence, but Beverly's words were clear and direct and full
+  of a frank surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, do you really care?"<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned away quickly that I might not hear any more. The rest of
+  that night I sat wide awake and staring at the misty valley of
+  the Kaw, where silvery ripples flashed up here and there against
+  the shadowy sand-bars.</p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p>The steamboat for St. Louis left the Westport Landing wharf at
+  six o'clock in the morning, before the mists had lifted over the
+  big yellow Missouri. From our bluff I saw the smoke belch from
+  its stacks as it pulled away and started down-stream; but only
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo waited to wave good-by to the sweet-faced
+  girl looking back at them from its deck. Beverly had overslept,
+  and Little Blue Flower had left an hour earlier with a
+  wagon-train starting west toward Council Grove. In her room lay
+  the white Grecian robe and the headband of wrought silver with
+  coral pendants. On the little white pin-cushion on the
+  dressing-table the bright pin-heads spelled out one Hopi word
+  that carries all good will and blessing</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">LOLOMI.</p>
+
+  <p>Twenty-four hours later Rex Krane left his bride, and he and
+  Bill Banney and Beverly and I, under command of Jondo, started on
+  our long trip overland to Santa F&eacute;. And two of us carried
+  some memories we hoped to lose when new scenes and certain perils
+  should surround us.</p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XI" id="XI">XI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  "OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  And you all know security<br>
+  Is mortal's chiefest enemy.<br>
+                              SHAKESPEARE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  <br>
+  In St. Louis and Kansas City men of Esmond Clarenden's type were
+  sending out great caravans of goods and receiving return cargoes
+  across the plains--pioneer trade-builders, uncrowned sovereigns
+  of national expansion--against whose enduring power wars for
+  conquest are as flashlight to daylight. And Beverly Clarenden and
+  I, with the whole battalion of plainsmen--"bull-whackers," in the
+  common parlance of the Santa F&eacute; Trail--who drove those
+  caravans to and fro, may also have been State-builders, as Uncle
+  Esmond had declared we would be. Yet we hardly looked like makers
+  of empire in those summer days when we followed the great
+  wagon-trains along the prairies and over the mountain passes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Two of us had come home from school hilariously eager for the
+  trail service. But the silent plains made men thoughtful and
+  introspective. Days of endless level landscapes under
+  wide-arching skies, and nights in the open beneath the
+  everlasting silent stars, give a man time to get close to
+  himself, to relive his childhood, to measure human values, to
+  hear the voice in the storm-cloud and the song of low-purring
+  winds, to harden against the monotonous glare of sunlight, to
+  defy the burning heat, and to feel--aye, to feel the spell of
+  crystal day-dawns and the sweetness of velvet-shadowed twilights.
+  Beverly and I were typical plainsmen in that we never spoke of
+  these things to each other--that is not the way of the
+  plainsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our company had been organized at Council Grove--three trains of
+  twenty-six wagons each, drawn by three or four spans of mules or
+  yoke of oxen, guarded by eightscore of "bull-whackers." And there
+  were a dozen or more ponies trained for swift riding in cases of
+  emergency. There were also half a dozen private outfits under
+  protection of the large body.<br>
+  <br>
+  The usual election before starting had made Jondo captain of the
+  whole company. His was the controlling type of spirit that could
+  have bent a battalion or swayed a Congress. For all the
+  commanders and lawmakers of that day were not confined to the
+  army and to Congress. Some of them escaped to the West and became
+  sovereigns of service there. And Jondo had need for an intrepid
+  spirit to rule that group of men, as that journey across the
+  plains proved.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the day before we left Council Grove he was sitting with the
+  heads of the other wagon-trains under a big oak-tree, perfecting
+  final plans for the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I want you to sign some papers here," he said. "It is the
+  agreement for the trip among the three companies owning the
+  trains."<br>
+  <br>
+  I read aloud the contract setting forth how one Jean Deau,
+  representing Esmond Clarenden, of Kansas City, with Smith and
+  Davis, representing two other companies from St. Louis, together
+  agreed to certain conditions regarding the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  Smith and Davis had already signed, and as I took the pen, a
+  white-haired old trapper who was sitting near by burst out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jean Deau! Jean Deau! Who the devil is Jean Deau?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo did not look up, but the lines hardened about his
+  mouth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's a sound. Don't get in the way, old man. Go ahead,
+  Clarenden," Smith commanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  Few questions were asked in those days, for most men on the
+  plains had a history, and it was what a man could do here, not
+  what he had done somewhere else, that counted.<br>
+  <br>
+  So I, representing Esmond Clarenden, signed the paper and the two
+  managers hurried away. But the old trapper sat staring at
+  Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say, I'm gittin' close to the end of the trail, and the divide
+  ain't fur off for me. D'ye mind if I say somethin'?" he asked at
+  last.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up with that smile that could warm any man's
+  heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on," he commanded, kindly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aint never signin' your own name nowhere, it sorter
+  seems."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo shook his head.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Didn't you and this Clarenden outfit go through here 'bout ten
+  years ago one night? Some Mexican greasers was raisin' hell and
+  proppin' it up with a whisky-bottle that night, layin' fur you
+  vicious."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo smiled and nodded assent.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, them fellers comin' in had a bargain with a passel of
+  Kioways to git you plenty if they missed you themselves; to
+  clinch their bargain they give 'em a pore little Hopi Injun girl
+  they'd brung along with a lot of other Mexicans and squaws."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I had that figured out pretty well at the time," Jondo said,
+  with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Jean Deau--" the old man began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, Jondo. Go on. I'm busy," Jondo interrupted.<br>
+  <br>
+  The old man's watery eyes gleamed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I just want to say friendly-like, that them Kioways never forgot
+  the trick you worked on 'em, an' the <i>tornydo</i> that busted
+  'em at Pawnee Rock they laid to your bad medicine. They went
+  clare back to Bent's Fort to fix you. Them and that rovin' bunch
+  of Mexicans that scattered along the trail with 'em in time of
+  the Mexican War. They'd 'a' lost you but fur a little Apache cuss
+  they struck out there who showed 'em to you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up quickly now. Santan, Beverly's "Satan," whom our
+  captain had defended, flashed to my mind, but I knew by Jondo's
+  face that he did not believe the old trapper's story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them Kioways is still layin' fur you ever' year, I tell you, an'
+  they're bound to git you sooner or later. I'm tellin' ye in
+  kindness."<br>
+  <br>
+  The old man's voice weakened a little.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I'm taking you in kindness," Jondo said. "You may be doing
+  me a great service."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I shore am. Take my word an' keep awake. Keep awake!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In spite of his drink-bleared eyes and weakened frame, there was
+  a hint of the commander in him, a mere shadow of the energy that
+  had gone years ago into the wild, solitary life of the trapper
+  who foreran the trail days here.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more trip to the ha'nts of the fur-bearin' and it's good-by
+  to the mountain trails and the river courses fur me," he said, as
+  he rose and stalked unsteadily away, and--I never saw him
+  again.<br>
+  <br>
+  At daybreak the next morning we were off for Santa F&eacute;. Our
+  wagons, loaded with their precious burdens, moved forward six
+  abreast along the old sun-flower bordered trail. Morning, noon,
+  and evening, pitching camp and breaking camp, yoking oxen and
+  harnessing mules, keeping night vigil by shifts, hunting buffalo,
+  killing rattlesnakes, watching for signs of hostile Indians,
+  meeting incoming trains, or solitary trappers, at long intervals,
+  breathing the sweet air of the prairies, and gathering rugged
+  strength from sleep on the wholesome earth--these things, with
+  the jolliest of fellowship and perfect discipline of our captain,
+  Jondo, made this hard, free life of the plains a fascinating one.
+  We were unshaven and brown as Indians. We lost every ounce of
+  fat, but we were steel-sinewed, and fear, that wearing element
+  that disintegrates the soul, dropped away from us early on the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  But when the full moon came sweeping up the sky, and all the
+  prairie shadows lay flat to earth under its surge of clear light,
+  in the stillness of the great lonely land, then the battle with
+  home-sickness was not the least of the plains' perils.<br>
+  <br>
+  One midnight watch of such a night, Jondo sat out my vigil with
+  me. Our eighty or more wagons were drawn up in a rude ellipse
+  with the stock corraled inside, for we were nearing the danger
+  zone. And yet to-night danger seemed impossible in such a
+  peaceful land under such clear moonlight.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, you were always a far-seeing youngster, even in your cub
+  days," Jondo said, after we had sat silent for a long time. "We
+  are moving into trouble from to-night, and I'll need you
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think so, Jondo?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That train we met going east at noon."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mexicans with silver and skins worth double our stuff, what have
+  they to do with us?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One of the best men I have ever known is a Mexican in Santa
+  F&eacute;. The worst man I have ever known is an American there.
+  But I've never yet trusted a Mexican when you bunch them
+  together. They don't fit into American harness, and it will be a
+  hundred years before the Mexican in our country will really love
+  the Stars and Stripes. Deep down in his heart he will hate
+  it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember Felix Narveo and Ferdinand Ramero mighty well," I
+  commented.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo stared at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't a boy remember things?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It takes a boy to remember; and they grow up and we forget they
+  have had eyes, ears, feelings, memories, all keener than we can
+  ever have in later years. Gail, the Mexican train comes from
+  Felix Narveo, and Narveo is a man of a thousand. They bring word,
+  however, that the Kiowas are unusually friendly and that we have
+  nothing to fear this side of the Cimarron. They don't feel sure
+  of the Utes and Apaches."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Good enough!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, only they lie when they say it. It's a trap to get us. No
+  Kiowa on the plains will let a Clarenden train through
+  peacefully, because we took their captive, Little Blue Flower.
+  It's a hatred kept alive in the Kiowas by one man in Santa
+  F&eacute; through his Mexican agents with Narveo's train."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And that man is Ramero?" I questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That man is Ramero, and his capacity for hate is appalling.
+  Gail, there's only one thing in the world that is stronger than
+  hate, and that is love."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked out over the moonlit plains, his fine head erect,
+  even in his meditative moods.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When a Mexican says a Kiowa has turned friendly, don't believe
+  him. And when a Kiowa says it himself--kill him. It's your only
+  safe course," Jondo said, presently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, why does Ramero stir up the Indians and Mexicans against
+  Uncle Esmond?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because Clarenden drove him into exile in New Mexico before it
+  was United States territory," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did he do that for?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because of what Ramero had done to me," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, New Mexico is United States territory now. What keeps this
+  Ramero in Santa F&eacute;, if he is there?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I keep him there. It's safer to know just where a man like that
+  is. So I put a ring around the town and left him inside of
+  it."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused and turned toward me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder comes Banney to go on guard now. Gail, I'll tell you all
+  about it some day. I couldn't on a night like this."<br>
+  <br>
+  The deep voice sent a shiver through me. There was a pathos in
+  it, too manly for tears, too courageous for pity.<br>
+  <br>
+  The days that followed were hard ones. Word had gotten through
+  the camp that the Indians were very friendly, and that we need
+  not be uneasy this side of the Cimarron country. Smith and Davis
+  agreed with the train captain, Jondo, in taking no chances, but
+  most of the one hundred sixty bull-whackers stampeded like cattle
+  against precaution, and rebelled at his rigid ruling. He had
+  begun to tighten down upon us as we went farther and farther into
+  the heart of a savage domain. The night guard was doubled and
+  every precaution for the stock was demanded, giving added cause
+  for grumbling and muttered threats which no man had the courage
+  to speak openly to Jondo's face. I knew why he had said that he
+  would need me. Bill Banney was always reliable, but growing more
+  silent and unapproachable every day. Rex Krane's mind was on the
+  girl-wife he had left in the stone house on the bluff above the
+  Missouri. Beverly was too cock-sure of himself and too
+  light-hearted, too eager for an Indian fight. Jondo could counsel
+  with Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains, but only as a last
+  resort would he dictate to them. So he turned to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were nearing Pawnee Rock, but as yet no hint of an Indian
+  trail could we find anywhere. Advance-guards and rear-guards had
+  no news to report when night came, and the sense of security grew
+  hourly. The day had been very warm, but our nooning was shortened
+  and we went into camp early. Everything had gone wrong that day:
+  harness had broken; mules had grown fractious; a wagon had upset
+  on a rough bit of the trail; half a dozen men, including Smith
+  and Davis of the St. Louis trains, had fallen suddenly ill;
+  drinking-water had been warm and muddy; and, most of all, the
+  consciousness of wide-spread opposition to Jondo's strict ruling
+  where there were no signs of danger made a very ugly-spirited
+  group of men who sat down together to eat our evening meal. Bets
+  were openly made that we wouldn't see a hostile redskin this side
+  of Santa F&eacute;. Covert sneers pointed many comments, and grim
+  silence threatened more than everything else. Jondo's face was
+  set, but there was a calmness about his words and actions, and
+  even the most rebellious that night knew he was least afraid of
+  any man among us.<br>
+  <br>
+  At midnight he wakened me. "I want you to help me, Gail," he
+  said. "The Kiowas will gather for us at Pawnee Rock. They missed
+  us there once because they were looking for a big train, and it
+  was there we took their captive girl. The boys are ready to
+  mutiny to-night. I count on you to stand by me." Stand by Jondo!
+  In my helpless babyhood, my orphaned childhood, my sturdy growing
+  years toward young manhood, Jondo had been father, mother,
+  brother, playmate, guardian angel. I would have walked on red-hot
+  coals for his sake.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want you to slip away to-night, when Rex and Bev are on guard,
+  and find out what's over that ridge to the north. Don't come back
+  till you do find out. We'll get to Pawnee Rock to-morrow. I must
+  know to-night. Can you do it? If you aren't back by sunrise, I'll
+  follow your trail double quick."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll go," I replied, proud to show both my courage and my
+  loyalty to my captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  The night was gray, with a dying moon in the west, and the north
+  ridge loomed like a low black shadow against the sky. There was a
+  weird chanting voice in the night wind, pouring endlessly across
+  the open plains. And everywhere an eyeless, voiceless, motionless
+  land, whereon my pony's hoof-beats were big and booming. Nature
+  made my eyes and ears for the trail life, and matched my soul to
+  its level spaces. To-night I was alert with that love of mastery
+  that made me eager for this task. So I rode forward until our
+  great camp was only a dull blot on the horizon-line, melting into
+  mere nothingness as it grew farther away. And I was alone on the
+  earth. God had taken out every other thing in it, save the sky
+  over my head and the uneven short-grass sod under my feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  On I went, veering to the northwest from instinct that I should
+  find my journey's end soonest that way. Over the divide which hid
+  the wide valley of the Arkansas, and into the deep draws and low
+  bluffs of a creek with billowy hills beyond, I found myself still
+  instinctively <i>smelling</i> my way. I grew more cautious with
+  each step now, knowing that the chance for me to slip along
+  unseen gave also the chance for an enemy to trail me unseen.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last I caught that low breathing sound that goes with the
+  sense of nearness to life. Leaving my pony by the stream, I
+  climbed to the top of a little swell, and softly as a cat walks
+  on a carpet, I walked straight into an Indian camp. It was well
+  chosen for outlook near, and security from afar. There was a
+  growing light in the sky that follows the darkness of moonset and
+  runs before the break of dawn. Everything in the camp was dead
+  still. I saw evidences of war-paint and a recent war-dance that
+  forerun an Indian attack. I estimated the strength of the
+  enemy--possibly four hundred warriors, and noted the symbols of
+  the Kiowa tribe. Then, thrilled with pride at my skill and
+  success, I turned to retrace my way to my pony--and looked full
+  into the face of an Indian brave standing motionless in my path.
+  A breath--and two more braves evolved out of gray air, and the
+  three stood stock-still before me. Out of the tail of my eye, I
+  caught sight of a drawn bow on either side of me. I had learned
+  quickness with firearms years ago, but I knew that two swift
+  arrows would cut my life-line before the sound of my ready
+  revolver could break the stillness of the camp. Three pairs of
+  snaky black eyes looked steadily at me, and I stared back as
+  directly into them. Two arrow-points gently touched my ears.
+  Behind me, a tomahawk softly marked a ring around my scalp
+  outside of my hat. I was standing in a circle of death. At last
+  the brave directly before me slowly drew up his bow and pointed
+  it at me; then dropping it, he snapped the arrow shaft and threw
+  away the pieces. Pointing to my cocked revolver, he motioned to
+  me to drop it. At the same time the bows and tomahawks, of the
+  other warriors were thrown down. It was a silent game, and in
+  spite of the danger I smiled as I put down my firearms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't any of you talk?" I asked. "If you are friendly, why don't
+  you say so?"<br>
+  <br>
+  The men did not speak, but by a gesture toward the tallest
+  tepee--the chief's, I supposed--I understood that he alone would
+  talk to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, bring him out." I surprised myself at my boldness. Yet no
+  man knows in just what spirit he will face a peril.<br>
+  <br>
+  One of the braves ran to the chief's tent, but the remaining five
+  left me no chance for escape. It was slowly growing lighter. I
+  thought of Jondo and his search at sunrise, and the moments
+  seemed like hours. Yet with marvelous swiftness and stillness a
+  score of Indians with their chief were mounted, and I, with my
+  pony in the center of a solid ring, was being hurried away,
+  alive, with friendly captors daubed with war-paint.<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a growing light in the east, while the west was still
+  dark. I thought of the earth as throwing back the gray shadowy
+  covers from its morning face and piling them about its feet; I
+  thought of some joke of Beverly's; and I wondered about one of
+  the oxen that had seemed sick in the evening. I tried to think of
+  nothing and a thousand things came into my mind. But of life and
+  death and love and suffering, I thought not at all.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime, Jondo waited anxiously for my coming. Rex and Beverly
+  had gone to sleep at the end of their watch and nobody else in
+  camp knew of my going. At dawn a breeze began to swing in from
+  the north, and with its refreshing touch the weariness and
+  worries of yesterday were swept away. Everybody wakened in a good
+  humor. But Jondo had not slept, and his face was sterner than
+  ever as the duties of the day began.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before sunrise I began to be missed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where's Gail?" Bill Banney was the first to ask.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's Clarenden's job, not mine," another of the bull-whackers
+  resented a command of Jondo's.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail! Gail! Anybody on earth seen Gail Clarenden this morning?"
+  came from a far corner of the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Have you lost a man, Jondo?" Smith, still sick in his wagon,
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  And the sun was filling the eastern horizon with a roseate glow.
+  It would be above the edge of the plains in a little while, and
+  still I had not returned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Breakfast followed, with many questions for the absent one. There
+  was an eagerness to be off early and an uneasiness began to
+  pervade the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, you'll have to dig up Gail now. I saw him putting out
+  northwest about one o'clock," Rex Krane said, aside to the train
+  captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If he isn't here in ten minutes. I'll have to start out after
+  him," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ten minutes are long to one who waits. The boys were ready for
+  the camp order. "Catch up!" to start the harnessing of teams. But
+  it was not given. The sun's level rays, hot and yellow, smote the
+  camp, and a low murmur ran from wagon to wagon. Jondo waited a
+  minute longer, then he climbed to the wagon tongue at the head of
+  the ellipse of vehicles, his commanding form outlined against the
+  open space, his fine face illumined by the sunlight.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Boys, listen to me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Men listened when Jondo spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe we are in danger, but you have doubted my word. I
+  leave the days to prove who is right. At midnight I sent Gail
+  Clarenden to find out what is beyond that ridge--a band of men
+  running parallel with us that shadows us day by day. If he is not
+  here in ten minutes, we must go after him."<br>
+  <br>
+  A hush fell on the camp. The oxen switched at the first nipping
+  insects of the morning, and the ponies and mules, with that
+  horse-sense that all horsemen have observed in them at times,
+  stood as if waiting for a decision to be made.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden was first to speak.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If anybody goes after Gail, it's <i>me</i>, and I'll not stop
+  till I get him," he cried, all the brotherly love of a lifetime
+  in his ringing voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And me!" "And me!" "And me!" came from a dozen throats.
+  Plainsmen were always the truest of comrades in the hour of
+  danger. Nobody questioned Jondo's wisdom now. All thought was for
+  the missing man.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane had leaped up on the wagon next to Jondo's and stood
+  gazing toward the northwest. At this outburst of eagerness he
+  turned to the crowd in the corral.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You wait five minutes and Gail will be here. He's gettin' into
+  sight out yonder now," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Another shout, a rush for the open, and a straining of eyes to
+  make sure of the lone rider coming swiftly down the trail I had
+  followed out at midnight. And amid a wild swinging of hats and
+  whoops of joy I rode into camp, hugged by Beverly and questioned
+  by everybody, eager for my story from the time I left the camp
+  until I rode into it again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They took me to Pawnee Rock before they let me know anything,
+  except that my scalp would hang to the old chief's war-spear if I
+  tried one eye-wink to get away from them. But they let me keep my
+  gun, and I took it for a sign," I told the company. "They had a
+  lot of ceremony getting seated, and then, without any
+  smoking-tobacco or peace-pipe, they gave their message."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who said the Kiowas wasn't friendly? They already sent us word
+  enough," one man broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's face, that had been bright and hopeful, now grew
+  grave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They said they mean us no harm. They were grateful to Uncle Sam
+  for the favors he had given them. That the prairies were wide,
+  and there was room for all of us on it," I continued. "In proof,
+  they said that we would pass that old rock to-day unharmed where
+  once they would have counted us their enemies. And they let me go
+  to bring you all this word. They are going northeast into the big
+  hunting-ground, and we are safe."<br>
+  <br>
+  No man could take defeat better than Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am glad if I was wrong in my opinion," he said. "Fifteen years
+  on that trail have made me cautious. I shall still be cautious if
+  I am your captain. They did not smoke the peace-pipe. In my
+  judgment the Kiowas lied. Two or three days will prove it. Choose
+  now between me and my unchanged opinion, and some new train
+  captain."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, every man makes some bad guesses, Jondo. We'll keep you, of
+  course, and it's a joke on you, that's all." So ran the comment,
+  and we hurriedly broke camp and moved on.<br>
+  <br>
+  But with all of our captain's anxiety Pawnee Rock stood like a
+  protecting shield above us when we camped at its base, and the
+  long bright days that followed were full of a sense of security
+  and good cheer as we pulled away for the Cimarron crossing of the
+  Arkansas River, miles ahead.<br>
+  <br>
+  All day Jondo rode wide of the trail, sometimes on one side and
+  sometimes on the other, watching for signs of an enemy. And the
+  bluff, jovial crowd of bull-whackers laughed together at his
+  holding on to his opinion out of sheer stubbornness.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the second night he asked for a triple guard and nobody
+  grumbled, for everybody really liked the big plainsman and they
+  could afford to be good-natured with him, now that he was
+  unquestioningly in the wrong.<br>
+  <br>
+  The camp was in a little draw running down to the river, bordered
+  by a mere ripple of ground on either side, growing deeper as it
+  neared the stream and flattening out toward the level prairie in
+  its upper portion. In spite of the triple guard, Jondo did not
+  sleep that night; and, strangely enough, I, who had been dull to
+  fear in the hands of the Indians two nights before, felt nervous
+  and anxious, now when all seemed secure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at daybreak a light shower with big bullet-like drops of
+  rain pattered down noisily on our camp and a sudden flash of
+  lightning and a thunderbolt startled the sleepy stock and brought
+  us to our feet, dazed for an instant. Another light volley of
+  rain, another sheet of lightning and roar of thunder, and the
+  cloud was gone, scattering down the Arkansas Valley. But in that
+  flash all of Jondo's cause for anxiety was justified. The
+  widening draw was full of Kiowas, hideous in war-paint, and the
+  ridges on either side of us were swarming with Indians beating
+  dried skins to frighten and stampede our stock, and all yelling
+  like fiends, while a perfect rain of arrows swept our camp. With
+  the river below us full of holes and quicksands, our enemies had
+  only to hold the natural defense on either side while they drove
+  us in a harrowing wedge back to the water. If our ponies and
+  mules should break from the corral they would rush for the river
+  or be lost in the widening space back from the deeper draw, where
+  a well-trained corps of thieves knew how to capture them. I had
+  estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two nights
+  before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
+  Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or
+  hell that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake,
+  with the foe four to one, man for man against us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write
+  these words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning,
+  clear and strong above the awful din, for nature made him to
+  command in moments of peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one
+  force to guard the corral, one to seize and hold either bank and
+  one to charge on the advance of the Indians down the draw. We
+  were on the defensive, as our captain had planned we should be,
+  and every man of us realized bitterly now how much he had done
+  for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.<br>
+  <br>
+  On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And
+  the sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots
+  had sped home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid
+  plan of action against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds
+  and gods were with them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the
+  eastern sky was aflame, casting a lurid glare across the edges of
+  the draw as a stream of savages with painted faces and naked
+  bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral. In an instant the
+  chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and our mules
+  and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
+  they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the
+  entire battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by
+  arrows, tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they
+  had cleared the ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of
+  hoofs on the hard earth told how well the thing had been done and
+  how furiously our animals were being whirled away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a
+  dozen bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling
+  wide, we rode like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid
+  our precious property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad
+  burst of speed to save our own. We were gaining now, and turning
+  the cloud toward the river. Another spurt, and we would have them
+  checked, faced about, subdued. I saw the end, and as the boys
+  swung forward I urged them on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the river. To the river. Head 'em south!" I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Rex Krane, like a centaur, swirled by me to do the thing I
+  ordered. Behind me rode Beverly Clarenden bareheaded, his face
+  aglow with power. As I looked back the dust engulfed him for a
+  moment, and then I heard an arrow sing, and a sharp cry of pain.
+  The dust had lifted and Beverly and a huge Indian, the tallest I
+  have ever seen, were grappling together, a scalping-knife
+  gleaming in the morning light. I dashed forward and felled the
+  savage with the butt of my revolver. He leaped to his feet and
+  sprang at me just as Beverly, with unerring aim, sent a blaze of
+  fire between us. As the savage fell again, my cousin seized his
+  pony; and with an arrow still swinging to his arm, dashed into
+  the chase, and left it only when the stock, with the loss of less
+  than a fourth, was driven up the river's sandy bank and over the
+  swell into the camp inclosure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime, Jondo at the front of his men charged into the very
+  center of the savage battle-line as, furious for blood, they
+  threshed across the narrow draw--the disciplined arm and
+  courageous heart against a blood-thirsty foe. A charge, a falling
+  back, another surge to win the lost ground, a steady holding on
+  and sure advance, and then Jondo, with one triumphant shout of
+  victory, struck the last fierce blow that sent the Kiowas into
+  full flight toward the northwest, and the day was won.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out by the river, a sudden dullness seized me. I lifted my eyes
+  to see Beverly free and Rex directing the charge; cattle, mules,
+  and ponies turned back toward safety, and something crawling and
+  writhing about my feet; Jondo's great shout of victory far away,
+  it seemed, miles and miles to the north; a cloud of dust sweeping
+  toward me; the crimson east aflame like the Day of judgment; the
+  dust cloud rolling nearer; the yellow sands and slow-moving
+  waters of the Arkansas; and six silent stalwart Kiowa braves,
+  with snaky black eyes, looking steadily at me. Shadows, and the
+  dust cloud upon me. Then all was night. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XII" id="XII">XII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,<br>
+  But we do not fall on the neck, nor kiss when we come
+  together.<br>
+                                          --"A SONG OF THE
+  ENGLISH."<br></p>
+
+  <p>The whole thing was clear now, clear as the big white day that
+  suddenly beamed along the prairies, scattering the clouds into
+  gray strands against the upper heavens. The treachery of the
+  Kiowas had been cleverly executed. Word of their friendliness had
+  come to us through the Mexican caravan which could have no object
+  in deceiving us, since it was on its way to Kansas City to do
+  business with the Clarenden house there. And Jondo had sent a spy
+  by night into the Kiowa camp as if they were not to be trusted.
+  Yet they had taken no offense; but, letting me keep my firearms,
+  had led me into their council on the top of Pawnee Rock, where
+  they had told me in clear English that they had nothing but love
+  for the white brothers of the plains. And to prove it we should
+  pass unharmed along the trail where once we had wronged them by
+  stealing their captive. The prairies were wide enough for all of
+  us and they had forgotten--as an Indian always forgets--all
+  malice against us. They had sent me back to camp with greetings
+  to my captain, and had gone on their way to the heart of the
+  Grand Prairie in the northeast.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was only Jondo, as he rode wide of the trail for two days, who
+  could see any mark of an Indian's track. And we had not believed
+  Jondo. We never made that mistake again: But trust in his
+  shrewdness now, however, would not bring back the oxen lost and
+  the mules and ponies captured by the thieving band of Dog
+  Indians. But there was a greater loss than these. The Kiowas had
+  come for revenge. It was blood, not plunder, they wanted. A dozen
+  men with arrow wounds reported at roll call, and six men lay
+  stark dead under the pitiless sky. Among them Davis of the St.
+  Louis train, who had been too ill to take part in the struggle.
+  One more loss was there to report, but it was not discovered
+  until later.<br>
+  <br>
+  Indians seldom leave their dead on the field of battle, but the
+  blood-stained sod beside their fallen ponies told a story of
+  heavy toll. Blood marked the trail of hoofprints to the northwest
+  in their wild rout thither. One comrade they had missed in their
+  flight. He lay down near the river where the ground had been
+  threshed over by the stampeded stock. He must have been a giant
+  in life, for his was the longest grave made in the prairie sod
+  that day. At the river's edge the sands were pricked with
+  hoofprints, where the struggle to carry away the dead seemed to
+  have reached clear into the thin yellow current of the Arkansas,
+  although no trail led out on the far side of the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the very copper cuss with yellow trimmings who had me
+  down when that arrow stopped me," Beverly exclaimed. "He was
+  seven feet tall and streaked with yellow just that way. I thought
+  ten million rattlesnakes and eight billion polecats had hit me.
+  His club was awful. Then I caught sight of old Gail's face in the
+  dust-storm, coming back to help me. He gave the Indian one dose
+  and got one back, a good hard bill, and then the dust closed in
+  and Gail was off again to the northwest out there, like a
+  hurricane. I could hear him a mile away. Couldn't I Gail? Where
+  is Gail?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Where?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, back there with the stock!"<br>
+  <br>
+  No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Out there looking over the draw for things that's got all
+  scattered."<br>
+  <br>
+  No? Not there?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, he's getting breakfast. And we are all hungry enough to eat
+  raw Kiowas now."<br>
+  <br>
+  No? No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail would be helping the wounded, anyhow, or straightening out
+  dead men's limbs. Poor fellows--to lose six! It's awful!"<br>
+  <br>
+  No? No? No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bathing in the river? Where? Over there across the
+  sand-bar?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Nowhere! Nowhere!<br>
+  <br>
+  "By the eternal God, they've got him!" Jondo's agonized voice
+  rang through the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We can take care of the wounded, and those fellows lying over
+  there don't need us. But, oh, Gail! They'll torture him to
+  death!" Rex Krane's voice choked and he ground his teeth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, my Gail!" Beverly sat down white and desparingly
+  calm--Beverly, whose up-bubbling spirits nobody could
+  repress.<br>
+  <br>
+  The others wrung their hands and cursed and groaned aloud. Only
+  Bill Banney, the unimaginative and stern-hearted, stood
+  motionless with set jaws and black-frowning brows. Bill, whom the
+  plains had made hard and unfeeling.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We won't give up Gail, will we, Bill?" Jondo spoke sternly, but
+  his face--they said his face was bright with courage and that his
+  eyes shone with the inspiration of his will. In all that crowd of
+  eager, faithful men, he turned now to Bill Banney. Every man had
+  his place on the plains, and Jondo out of the chrism of his own
+  life-struggle knew that Bill was bearing a cross in silence, and
+  that his was the martyr spirit that finds salvation only in
+  deeds. Bill was the man for the place.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so while straying animals were slowly recovered, while the
+  camp was set in order, while the dead were laid with simple
+  reverence in un-coffined graves, and the sick were crudely
+  ministered to, while Beverly grew feverish and his arrow wound
+  became a festering sore, and Rex Krane, master of the company,
+  cared for every thing and everybody with that big mother-heart of
+  his--Jondo and Bill Banney pushed alone across the desolate
+  plains toward where the Smoky Hills wrapped in their dim
+  gray-blue mist mark the low watershed that rims the western
+  valley of the Kaw.<br>
+  <br>
+  They went alone because skill, and not numbers, could save a
+  captive from the hands of the Kiowas, and the sight of a force
+  would mean death to the victim before he could be rescued.<br>
+  <br>
+  A splash of water against a hot hand hanging down; a sense of
+  light, of motion; a glimpse of coarse sands and thin straggling
+  weeds beside the edge of the stream down which the pathway ran; a
+  sharp aching at the base of the brain; an agony of strained
+  muscles--thus slowly I came to my senses, to memory, to the
+  knowledge that I was bound hand and foot to a pony's back; that
+  the sun was hot, and the sands were hotter, and the glare on the
+  waters blinding; that every splash of the pony's hoofs sent up
+  glittering sparkles that stabbed my aching eyes like white-hot
+  dagger-points; that the black and clotted dirt on the pony's
+  shoulder was not mud, but blood; that before and behind were
+  other splashing feet, all hiding the trail in the thin current of
+  the wide old Arkansas; that the quick turns to follow the water
+  and the need for speed gave no consideration to the helpless
+  rider. The image of six pairs of snaky black eyes came to help
+  the benumbed brain, and I knew with whom I was again captive. But
+  there was no question about the friendly motive now, for there
+  was no friendly motive now. And as we pushed on east, Jondo and
+  Bill Banney were hurrying toward the northwest, and the space
+  between us widened every minute. A wave of helplessness and
+  despair swept over me; then a wild up-leaping prayer for
+  deliverance to a far-away unpitying Heaven; a sudden sense of the
+  futility of prayer in a land the Lord had forgotten; and then
+  anger, hot and wholesome, and an unconquered, dominant will to
+  gain freedom or to die game, swept every other feeling away,
+  marvelously mastering the sense of pain that had ground
+  mercilessly at every nerve. Then came that small voice which a
+  man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the
+  blare of daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who
+  notes the sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death,
+  slow-lingering, inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely
+  plain. The glare on the waters softened. The heat fell away. The
+  despair and agony lifted. In all the world--my world--there was
+  only one, God; not a far, unpitying, book-made Lord beyond the
+  height of the glaring blue dome above me. God beside me on, the
+  yellow waters of the Arkansas. His hand in my hot hand! His
+  strength about me, invisible, unbreakable, infinite. When a man
+  enters into that shielding Presence, nothing else matters.<br>
+  <br>
+  I do not know how many miles we went down-stream, leaving no
+  trail in the shallow water or along its hard-baked edges. But by
+  the time we dropped that line I had begun to think coherently and
+  to take note of everything possible to me, bound as I was, face
+  downward, on the pony's back. It was when we had left the river
+  that the hard riding began, and a merciful unconsciousness,
+  against which I fought, softened some stretches of that long
+  day's journey. We crossed the Santa F&eacute; Trail and were
+  pushing eastward out of sight of it to the north. No stop, no
+  word, nothing but ride, ride, ride. Truly, I needed the Presence
+  that went with me on the way.<br>
+  <br>
+  At sunset we stopped, and I was taken from my pony and thrown to
+  the ground. I managed, in spite of my bonds, to sit up and look
+  about me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were on the top of Pawnee Rock. The heat of the day was spent
+  and all the radiant tints of evening were making the silent
+  prairies unspeakably beautiful. I do not know why I should have
+  noted or remembered any of this, save that the mind sometimes
+  gathers impressions under strange stress of suffering. I had had
+  no food all day, and when our ponies stopped to drink, the agony
+  of thirst was maddening. My tongue was swollen and my lips were
+  cracked and bleeding. The leather thongs that bound me cut deep
+  now. But--only the men who lived it can know what all this meant
+  to the pioneer of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have sat on the same spot at sunset many a time in these my
+  sunset years; have gazed in tranquil joy at the whole panorama of
+  the heavens that hang over the prairies in the opalescent
+  splendor of the after-sunset hour; have looked out over the
+  earthly paradise of waving grain, all glowing with the golden
+  gleam of harvest, in the heart of the rich Kansas
+  wheat-lands--and somehow I'm glad of soul that I foreran this day
+  and--maybe--maybe I, too, helped somewhat to build the way--the
+  way that Esmond Clarenden had helped to clear a decade before and
+  was building then.<br>
+  <br>
+  The six Indians gathered near me. One of them with unmerciful
+  mercy loosened my bonds a trifle and gave me a sup of water. They
+  did not want me to die too soon. Then they sat down to eat and
+  drink. I did not shut my eyes, nor turn my head. I defied their
+  power to crush me, and the very defiance gave me strength.<br>
+  <br>
+  The chill air of evening blew about the brow of the rock, the
+  twilight deepened, and down in the valley the shadows were
+  beginning to hide the landscape. But the evening hour is long on
+  the headlands. And there was ample time for another kind of
+  council than that to which I had listened three mornings ago,
+  when I had been set free to bear a friendly message to my
+  chief.<br>
+  <br>
+  They carried me--helpless in their hands--to where, unseen
+  myself, and secured by rock fragment and rawhide thong, I could
+  see far up the trail to the eastward. But I could give no signal
+  of distress, save for the feeble call of my swollen,
+  thirst-parched throat. Then the six bronze sons of the plains sat
+  down before me, and looked at me. Looked! I never see a pair of
+  beady black eyes to-day--and there are many such--that I do not
+  long to kill somebody, so vivid yet is the memory of those
+  murdering eyes looking at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last they spoke--plains English, it is true--but clear to give
+  their meaning.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Chief Clarenden thinks Kiowas forget. He comes with little train
+  across the prairies; Kiowas go to meet big train east and fight
+  fair for Mexican brothers who hate Chief Clarenden. They do not
+  stop to look for little sneaking coyotes when they seek big game.
+  Clarenden steals away Kiowas' captive Hopi. Cheat Kiowas of big
+  pay that white Medicine-man Josef would give for her. Mexican
+  brothers and Kiowa tribe hate Clarenden. They take his son,
+  <i>you</i>, to show Clarenden they can steal, too. Hopi girl!
+  white brave! all the same."<br>
+  <br>
+  The speaker's words came deliberately, and he gave a contemptuous
+  wave of the hand as he closed. And the six sat silent for a time.
+  Then another voice broke the stillness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder is your trail. Chief Clarenden and big white chiefs go by
+  to Santa F&eacute; to buy and sell and grow rich. Indian sell
+  captives to grow rich! No! White chief not let Indians buy and
+  sell. But we do not kill white dogs. We leave you here to watch
+  the trail for wagon-trains. They may not come soon. They may not
+  see you nor hear you. You can see them pass on their way to get
+  rich. You can watch them. Hopi girl would have brought us big
+  money. We get no richer. Watch white men go get rich. You may
+  watch many days till sun dries your eyes. Nothing trouble you
+  here. Watch the trail. No wild animal come here. No water drown
+  you here. No fine meat make you ache with eating here.
+  Watch."<br>
+  <br>
+  The six looked long at me, and as the light faded their black
+  eyes and dark faces seemed like the glittering eyes and hooked
+  bills of six great dark birds of prey.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the last sunset glow was in the west the six rose up and
+  walked backward, still looking at me, until they passed my range
+  of vision and I could only feel their eyes upon me. Then I heard
+  the clatter of ponies' feet on the hard rock, the fainter stroke
+  on the thin, sandy soil, the thud on the thickening sod. Thump,
+  thump, thump, farther and farther and farther away. The west grew
+  scarlet, deepened to purple and melted at last into the dull gray
+  twilight that foreruns the darkness of night. One ray of pale
+  gold shimmered far along toward the zenith and lost itself in the
+  upper heavens, and the stars came forth in the blue-black eastern
+  sky. And I was alone with the Presence whose arm is never
+  shortened and whose ear grows never heavy.<br>
+  <br>
+  The trail to the east was only a dull line along the darker
+  earth. I looked up at the myriad stars coming swiftly out of
+  space to greet me. The starlit sky above the open prairie speaks
+  the voice of the Infinite in a grandeur never matched on land or
+  sea.<br>
+  <br>
+  I thought of Little Blue Flower on that dim-lighted dawning when
+  she had showed us her bleeding hands and lashed shoulders. And
+  again I heard Beverly's boyish voice ring out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's take her and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  And then I was beside the glistening waters of the Flat Rock, and
+  Little Blue Flower was there in her white Grecian robe and the
+  wrought-silver headband with coral pendants. And Eloise. The
+  golden hair, the soft dark eyes, the dainty peach-bloom cheek.
+  Eloise whom I had loved always and always. Eloise who loved
+  Beverly--good, big-hearted, sunny-faced Beverly, who never had
+  visions. Any girl would love him. Most of all, Little Blue
+  Flower. What a loving message she had left us in the one word,
+  <i>Lolomi</i>. God pity her.<br>
+  <br>
+  A thousand sharp pains racked my body. I tried to move. I longed
+  for water. Then a merciful darkness fell upon me--not sleep, but
+  unconsciousness. And the stars watched over me through that black
+  night, lying there half dead and utterly alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out to the northwest Jondo and Bill Banney rode long on the trail
+  of the fleeing Kiowas. A picture for an artist of the West, these
+  two rough men in the garb and mount and trappings of the
+  plainsman, with eyes alert and strong faces, riding only as men
+  can ride who go to save a life more eagerly than they would save
+  their own. Not in rash haste, but with unchecked speed, losing no
+  mark along the trail that should guide them more quickly to their
+  goal, so they passed side by side, and neither said a word for
+  hours along the way. Night came, and the needs of their ponies
+  made them pause briefly. The trail, too, was harder to follow
+  now. They might lose it in the darkness and so lose time. And
+  those two men were going forth to victory. Not for one single
+  heart-beat did they doubt their power to win, and the stead-fast
+  assurance made them calm.<br>
+  <br>
+  Daylight again, and a fresher trail made them hurry on. They
+  drank at every stream and ate a snatch of food as they rode. They
+  reached the hurriedly quitted Kiowa camp, and searched for the
+  sign of vengeance on a captive there. Jondo knew those signs, and
+  his heart beat high with hope.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They haven't done it yet," he said to his companion. "They want
+  to get away first. We are safe for a day."<br>
+  <br>
+  And they rode swiftly on again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's trouble here," Bill Banney declared as he watched the
+  ground. "Too many feet. Could it be here?"<br>
+  <br>
+  His voice was hardly audible. The two men halted and read the
+  ground with piercing eyes. Something had happened, for there had
+  been a circling and chasing in and out, and the sod was cut deep
+  with hoofprints.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No council nor ceremony, no open space for anything." Jondo
+  would not even speak the word he was bound not to know.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They've divided, Jondo. Here goes the big crowd, and there a
+  smaller one," Bill declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There were a lot of Dog Indians along for thieving. They've
+  split here. Seem to have fussed a bit over it, too. And yonder
+  runs the Kiowa trail to the north. Here go the Dogs east." Jondo
+  replied. "We'll follow the Kiowas a spell," he added, after a
+  thoughtful pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  And again they were off. It was nearing noon now, and the trail
+  was fresher every minute. At last the plainsmen climbed a low
+  swell, halting out of sight on the hither side. Then creeping to
+  the crest, they looked down on the Indian camp lying in a little
+  dry valley of a lost stream whose course ran underground beneath
+  them.<br>
+  <br>
+  Lying flat on the ground, each with his head behind a low bush on
+  the top of the swell, the men read the valley with searching
+  eyes. Then Jondo, with Bill at his heels, slid swiftly down the
+  slope.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail Clarenden isn't there. We must take the trail east, and
+  ride hard," he said, in a hoarse voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  And they rode hard until they were beyond the range of the Kiowa
+  outposts.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your game, Jondo?" Bill asked, at length.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's
+  lost somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't
+  quite understand, but we'll go on."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the
+  hardship of the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected
+  him to give up. The sun blazed down in the heat of the late
+  afternoon, and the baking earth lay brown and dry beneath the
+  heat-quivering air. There was no sound nor motion on the plains
+  as the two faithful brothers--in purpose--followed hard on the
+  track of the Dog Indian band.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of
+  their chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far
+  ahead. Jondo and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover
+  was in sight, but if the Indians were unsuspicious they might not
+  be discovered. On went the outlaw band, and the two white men
+  followed after. Suddenly the Indians halted and grouped
+  themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly for the cause.
+  Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into view. They,
+  too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two dull,
+  motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
+  White men didn't belong there.<br>
+  <br>
+  The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing
+  eastward. Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band
+  spurted east as rapidly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked at Bill.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he
+  cried, triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs
+  out yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils
+  getting him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the
+  six. They have left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting
+  back to join the tribe. They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll
+  run down this trail to the south. Hurry, Bill! For God's sake,
+  hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't see us back here."<br>
+  <br>
+  That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same
+  clear sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green
+  prairies; but it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and
+  choking with thirst through the awful lengths of that summer day.
+  Fitful unconsciousness, with fever and delirium, seeing mocking
+  faces with snaky black eyes, looking long at me; food almost
+  touching my lips, and floods of crystal waters everywhere just
+  out of reach. I was on the bluff above the river at Fort
+  Leavenworth again, watching for the fish on the sand-bars. They
+  were Indians instead of fish, and they laughed at me and called
+  me a big brown bob-cat. Then Mother Bridget and Aunty Boone would
+  have come to me if I could only make them hear me. But the sun
+  beat hot upon my burning face, and my swollen lips refused to
+  moan.<br>
+  <br>
+  And then I looked to the eastward and hope sprang to life within
+  me. A wagon-train was crawling slowly toward Pawnee Rock. Tears
+  drenched my eyes until I could hardly count the wagons--twenty,
+  thirty, forty. It must be far in the afternoon now, and they
+  might encamp here. But they seemed to be hurrying. I could not
+  see for pain, but I knew they were near the headland now. I could
+  hear the rattle of the wagon-chains and the tramp of feet and
+  shouts of the bull-whackers. I tugged masterfully at my bonds. It
+  was a useless effort. I tried to shout, but only low moans came
+  forth from my parched lips. I strove and raged and prayed. The
+  wagons hurried on and on, a long time, for there were many of
+  them. Then the rattling grew fainter, the voices were far off,
+  the thud of hoof-beats ceased. The train had passed the Rock,
+  never dreaming that a man lay dying in sight of the succor they
+  would so gladly have given.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sun began to strike in level rays across the land, and the
+  air was cooler, but I gave no heed to things about me. Death was
+  waiting--slow, taunting death. The stars would be kind again
+  to-night as they had been last night, but death crouching between
+  me and the starlight, was slowly crawling up Pawnee Rock. Oh, so
+  slowly, yet so surely creeping on. The sun was gone and a tender
+  pink illumined the sky. The light was soft now. If death would
+  only steal in before the glare burst forth. I forgot that night
+  must come first. Pity, God of heaven, pity me!<br>
+  <br>
+  And then the Presence came, and a sweet, low voice--I hear it
+  still sometimes, when sunsets soften to twilight, "<i>My presence
+  shall go with thee</i>, <i>and I will give thee rest</i>." I felt
+  a thrill of triumph pulse through my being. Unconquered, strong,
+  and glad is he who trusts.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I shall not die. I shall live, and in God's good time I shall be
+  saved." I tried to speak the words, but I could not hear my
+  voice. My pains were gone and I lay staring at the evening sky
+  all mother-of-pearl and gold above my head. And on my lips a
+  smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so they found me at twilight, as a tired child about to fall
+  asleep. They did not cry out, nor fall on my neck, nor weep. But
+  Bill Banney's strong arms carried me tenderly away. Water, food,
+  unbound swollen limbs, bathed in the warm Arkansas flow, soft
+  grass for a bed, and the eyes of the big plainsman, my childhood
+  idol, gentle as a girl's, looking unutterable things into my
+  eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  I've never known a mother's love, but for that loss the Lord gave
+  me--Jondo. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII">XIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be<br>
+  The dearest bond between my heart and thee.<br>
+                              --ALL THE YEAR ROUND.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  When we reached the end of the trail and entered a second time
+  into Santa F&eacute; the Stars and Stripes were floating lazily
+  above the Palace of the Governors. Out on the heights beyond the
+  old Spanish prison stood Fort Marcy, whose battlements told of a
+  military might, strong to control what by its strength it had
+  secured. In its shadow was La Garita, of old the place of
+  execution, against whose blind wall many a prisoner had started
+  on the long trail at the word of a Spanish bullet, La Garita
+  changed now from a thing of legalized horror to a landmark of
+  history.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the city itself seemed unchanged, and there was little
+  evidence that Yankee thrift and energy had entered New Mexico
+  with the new government. The narrow street still marked the
+  trail's end before the Exchange Hotel. San Miguel, with its dun
+  walls and triple-towered steeple, still good guard over the soul
+  of Santa F&eacute;, as it had stood for three sunny centuries.
+  The Mexican still drove down the loaded burro-train of firewood
+  from the mountains. The Indian basked in the sunny corners of the
+  Plaza. The adobe dwellings clustered blindly along little lanes
+  leading out to nowhere in particular. The orchards and
+  cornfields, primitively cultivated, made tiny oases beside the
+  trickling streams and sandy beds of dry arroyos. The sheep grazed
+  on the scant grasses of the plain. The steep gray mesa slopes
+  were splotched with clumps of evergreen shrubs and pi&ntilde;on
+  trees. And over all the silent mountains kept watch.<br>
+  <br>
+  The business house of Felix Narveo, however, did not share in
+  this lethargy. The streets about the Plaza were full of Conestoga
+  wagons, with tired ox-teams lying yoked or unyoked before them.
+  Most of the traffic borne in by these came directly or indirectly
+  to the house of Narveo. And its proprietor, the same silent,
+  alert man, had taken advantage of a less restricted government,
+  following the Mexican War, to increase his interests. So mine and
+  meadow, flock and herd, trappers' snare and Indian loom and
+  forge, all poured their treasures into his hands--a
+  clearing-house for the products of New Mexico to swell the great
+  overland commerce that followed the Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  For all of which the ground plan had been laid mainly by Esmond
+  Clarenden, when with tremendous daring he came to Santa F&eacute;
+  and spied out the land for these years to follow.<br>
+  <br>
+  A boy's memory is keen, and all the hours of that other journey
+  hither, with their eager anticipation and youthful curiosity, and
+  love of surprise and adventure, came back to Beverly Clarenden
+  and me as we pulled along the last lap of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Was it really so long ago, Bev, that we came in here, all eyes
+  and ears?" I asked my cousin.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, it was last evening. And not an eyebrow in this Rip Van
+  Winkle town has lifted since," Beverly replied. "Yonder stands
+  that old church where the gallant knight on a stiff-legged pony
+  spied Little Lees and knocked the head off of that tormenting
+  Marcos villain, and kicked it under the door-step. Say, Gail, I'd
+  like mighty well to see the grown-up Little Lees, wouldn't you?
+  And I'd as soon this was Saint Louis as Santa F&eacute;."<br>
+  <br>
+  Since the night of Mat's wedding, I had been resolutely putting
+  away all thought of Eloise St. Vrain. I belonged to the plains.
+  All my training had been for this. I thought I was very old and
+  settled now. But the mention of her pet name sent a thrill
+  through me; and these streets of Santa F&eacute; brought back a
+  flood of memories and boyhood dreams and visions.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, how many auld-lang-syners do you reckon we'll meet in this
+  land of sunshine and <i>chilly</i> beans?" I asked,
+  carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, how many of them do you remember, Mr. Cyclopedia of
+  Prominent Men and Pretty Women?" Beverly inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, there was Felix Narveo and Father Josef--and Little Blue
+  Flower"--A shadow flitted across my cousin's face for a moment,
+  leaving it sunny as ever again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And there was that black-eyed Marcos boy everywhere, and
+  Ferdinand Ramero whom we were warned to step wide of," I went
+  on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, that tall thin man with blue-glass eyes that cut your
+  fingers when he looked at you. Maybe he went out the back door of
+  New Mexico when General Kearny peeped in at the front transom.
+  There wasn't any fight in that man."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo says he is still in Santa F&eacute;." Just as I spoke an
+  Indian swept by us, riding with the ease of that
+  born-to-the-horseback race.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly, do you remember that Indian boy that we saw out at Agua
+  Fria?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The day we found Little Lees asleep in the church?" Beverly
+  broke in, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  In our whole journey he had hardly spoken of Eloise, and, knowing
+  Beverly as I did, I had felt sure for that reason that she had
+  not been on his mind. Now twice in five minutes he had called her
+  name. But why should he not remember her here, as well as I?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I remember there was an Indian boy, sort of sneaky like,
+  and deaf and dumb, that followed us until I turned and stared him
+  out of it. That's the way to get rid of 'em, Gail, same as a
+  savage dog," Beverly said, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What if there are six of them all staring at you?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Gail, for the Lord's sake forget that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly cried, affectionately. "When you've got an arrow wound
+  rotting your arm off and six hundred and twenty degrees of fever
+  in your blood, and the son of your old age is gone for three days
+  and nights, and you don't dare to think where, you'll know why a
+  fellow doesn't want to remember." There were real tears in the
+  boy's eyes. Beverly was deeper than I had thought.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, to change gradually, I wonder if that centaur who just
+  passed us might be that same Indian of Agua Fria of long
+  ago."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He couldn't be," Beverly declared, confidently. "That boy got
+  one square look at my eagle eye and he never stopped running till
+  he jumped into the Pacific Ocean. 'I shall see him again over
+  there.'" Half chanting the last words, Beverly, boy-hearted and
+  daring and happy, cracked his whip, and our mule-team began to
+  prance off in mule style the journey's latter end.<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, Beverly! Beverly! Why did that day on the parade-ground at
+  Fort Leavenworth and a boy's pleading face lifted to mine, come
+  back to me at that moment? Strange are the lines of life. I shall
+  never clearly read them all.<br>
+  <br>
+  Down in the Plaza a tall, slender young man was sitting in the
+  shade, idly digging at the sod with an open pocket-knife. There
+  was something magnetic about him, the presence that even in a
+  crowd demands a second look.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was dressed in spotless white linen, and with his handsome
+  mustache, his well-groomed black hair, and sparkling black eyes,
+  he was a true type of the leisure son of the Spanish-Mexican
+  grandee. He stared at our travel-stained caravan as it rolled
+  down the Plaza's edge, but his careless smile changed to an
+  insolent grin, showing all his perfect teeth as he caught sight
+  of Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid no claims to manly beauty, but we were stalwart young
+  fellows, with the easy strength of good health, good habits,
+  clear conscience, and the frank faces of boys reared on the
+  frontier, and accustomed to its dangers by men who defied the
+  very devil to do them harm. But even in our best clothes, saved
+  for the display at the end of the trail, we were uncouth compared
+  to this young gentleman, and our tanned faces and hard brown
+  hands bespoke the rough bull-whacker of the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our train halted, the young man lighted a cigar and puffed the
+  smoke toward us, as if to ignore our presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Its mamma has dressed it up to go and play in the park, but it
+  mustn't speak to little boys, nor soil its pinafore, nor listen
+  to any naughty words. And it couldn't hold its own against a
+  kitten. Nice little clothes-horse to hang white goods on!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly had turned his back to the Plaza and was speaking in a
+  low tone, with the serious face and far-away air of one who
+  referred to a thing of the past.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, you are a mind-reader, a character-sketcher--" I began, but
+  stopped short to stare into the Plaza beyond him.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man had sprung to his feet and stood there with
+  flashing eyes and hands clenched. Behind him was the same young
+  Indian who had passed us on the trail. He was lithe, with every
+  muscle trained to strength and swiftness and endurance.<br>
+  <br>
+  He had muttered a word into the young white man's ear that made
+  him spring up. And while the face of the Indian was
+  expressionless, the other's face was full of surprise and anger;
+  and I recognized both faces in an instant.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, there are two auld-lang-syners behind you
+  right now. One is Marcos Ramero, and the other is Santan of
+  Bent's Fort," I said, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly turned quickly, something in his fearless face making the
+  two men drop their eyes. When we looked again they had left the
+  Plaza by different ways.<br>
+  <br>
+  After dinner that evening Jondo and Bill Banney hurried away for
+  a business conference with Felix Narveo. Rex and Beverly also
+  disappeared and I was alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last clear light of a long summer day was lingering over the
+  valley of the Rio Grande, and the cool evening breeze was
+  rippling in from the mountains, when I started out along the
+  narrow street that made the terminal of the old Santa F&eacute;
+  Trail. I was hardly conscious of any purpose of direction until I
+  came to the half-dry Santa F&eacute; River and saw the spire of
+  San Miguel beyond it. In a moment the same sense of loss and
+  longing swept over me that I had fought with on the night after
+  Mat's wedding, when I sat on the bluff and stared at the waters
+  of the Kaw flowing down to meet the Missouri. And then I
+  remembered what Father Josef had said long ago out by the sandy
+  arroyo:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Among friends or enemies, the one haven of safety always is the
+  holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  I felt the strong need for a haven from myself as I crossed the
+  stream and followed the trail up to the doorway of San
+  Miguel.<br>
+  <br>
+  The shadows were growing long, few sounds broke the stillness of
+  the hour, and the spirit of peace brooded in the soft light and
+  sweet air. I had almost reached the church when I stopped
+  suddenly, stunned by what I saw. Two people were strolling up the
+  narrow, crooked street that wanders eastward beside the
+  building--a tall, slender young man in white linen clothes and a
+  girl in a soft creamy gown, with a crimson scarf draped about her
+  shoulders. They were both bareheaded, and the man's heavy black
+  hair and curling black mustache, and the girl's coronal of golden
+  braids and the profile of her fair face left no doubt about the
+  two. It was Marcos Ramero and Eloise St. Vrain. They were talking
+  earnestly; and in a very lover-like manner the young man bent
+  down to catch his companion's words.<br>
+  <br>
+  Something seemed to snap asunder in my brain, and from that
+  moment I knew myself; knew how futile is the belief that miles of
+  prairie trail and strength of busy days can ever cast down and
+  break an idol of the heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  In a minute they had passed a turn in the street, and there was
+  only sandy earth and dust-colored walls and a yellow glare above
+  them, where a moment ago had been a shimmer of sunset's gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The one haven of safety always is the holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's words sounded in my ears, and the face of old San
+  Miguel seemed to wear a welcoming smile. I stepped into the deep
+  doorway and stood there, aimless and unthinking, looking out
+  toward where the Jemez Mountains were outlined against the
+  southwest horizon. Presently I caught the sound of feet, and
+  Marcos Ramero strode out of the narrow street and followed the
+  trail into the heart of the city.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared after him, noting the graceful carriage, the
+  well-fitting clothes, and the proud set of the handsome head.
+  There was no doubt about him. Did he hold the heart of the
+  golden-haired girl who had walked into my life to stay? As he
+  passed out of my sight Eloise St. Vrain came swiftly around the
+  corner of the street to the church door, and stopped before me in
+  wide-eyed amazement. Eloise, with her clinging creamy draperies,
+  and the vivid red of her silken scarf, and her glorious hair.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Gail Clarenden, is it really you?" she cried, stretching out
+  both hands toward me with a glad light in her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Little Lees, it is I."<br>
+  <br>
+  I took both of her hands in mine. They were soft and white, and
+  mine were brown and horny, but their touch sent a thrill of joy
+  through me. She clung tightly to my hands for an instant. Then a
+  deeper pink swept her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes and
+  stepped back.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They told me you were--lost--on the way; that some Kiowas had
+  killed you."<br>
+  <br>
+  She lifted her face again, and heaven had not anything better for
+  me than the depths of those big dark eyes looking into mine.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who told you, Eloise?"<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl looked over her shoulder apprehensively, and lowered her
+  voice as she replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Marcos Ramero."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's a liar. I am awfully alive, and Marcos Ramero knows I am,
+  for he saw me and recognized me down in the Plaza this
+  afternoon," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the church door opened and a girl in Mexican dress came
+  out. I did not see her face, nor notice which way she took, for a
+  priest following her stepped between us. It was Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "My children, come inside. The holy sanctuary offers you a better
+  shelter than the open street."<br>
+  <br>
+  I shall never forget that voice, nor hear another like it.
+  Inside, the candles were burning dimly at the altar. The last
+  rays of daylight came through the high south windows, touching
+  the carved old rafters and gray adobe with a red glow. Long ago
+  human hands, for lack of trowels, had laid that adobe surface on
+  the rough stone--hands whose imprint is graven still on those
+  crudely dented walls.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down on a low seat inside of the doorway, and Father Josef
+  passed up the aisle to the altar, leaving us there alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, Marcos Ramero is your friend, and I beg your pardon for
+  speaking of him as I did."<br>
+  <br>
+  I resented with all my soul the thought of this girl caring for
+  the son of the man who in some infamous way had wronged Jondo,
+  but I had no right to be rude about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, may I say something to you?" The voice was as a pleading
+  call and the girl's farce was full of pathos.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on, Little Lees," was all that I could venture to
+  answer.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you remember the day you came in here and threw Marcos Ramero
+  out of that door?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Would you do it again, if it were necessary? I mean--if--" the
+  voice faltered.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had heard the same pleading tone on the night of Mat's wedding
+  when Eloise and Beverly were in the little side porch together. I
+  looked up at the red light on the old church rafters and the
+  rough gray walls. How like to those hand-marked walls our
+  memories are, deep-dented by the words they hold forever! Then I
+  looked down at the girl beside me and I forgot everything else.
+  Her golden hair, her creamy-white dress, and that rich crimson
+  scarf draped about her shoulders and falling across her knees
+  would have made a Madonna's model that old Giovanni Cimabue
+  himself would have joyed to copy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is it likely to be necessary? Be fair with me, Eloise. I saw you
+  two strolling up that little goat-run of a street out there just
+  now. Judging from the back of his head, Marcos looked satisfied.
+  I shouldn't want to interfere nor make you any trouble," I said,
+  earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is I who should not make you any trouble, but, oh, Gail, I
+  came here this evening because I was afraid and I didn't know
+  where else to go, and I found you. I thought you were dead
+  somewhere out on the Kansas prairie. Maybe it was to help me a
+  little that you came here to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  Her hands were gripped tightly and her mouth was firm-set in an
+  effort to be brave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Eloise, I'd never let Marcos Ramero, nor anybody else, make
+  you one little heart-throb afraid. If you will only let me help
+  you, I wouldn't call it trouble; I'd call it by another name."
+  The longing to say more made me pause there.<br>
+  <br>
+  The light was fading overhead, but the church lamps gave a soft
+  glow that seemed to shield off the shadowy gloom.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef came all the way from New Mexico to St. Ann's to
+  have me come back here, and Mother Bridget sent Sister Anita, you
+  remember her, up to St. Louis to come with me by way of New
+  Orleans. I didn't tell you that I might be here when your train
+  came in overland because--because of some things about my own
+  people--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The fair head was bowed and the soft voice trembled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't be afraid to tell me anything, Little Lees," I whispered,
+  assuringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I never saw my father, but my mother was very beautiful and
+  loving, and we were so happy together. I was still a very little
+  girl when she fell sick and they took me away from her. I never
+  knew when she died nor where she was buried. Ferdinand Ramero had
+  charge of her property. He controlled everything after she went
+  away, and I have always lived in fear of his word. I am helpless
+  when he commands, for he has a strange power over minds; and as
+  to Marcos--you know what a little cat I was. I had to be to live
+  with him. It wasn't until we were all at Bent's Fort that I got
+  over my fear of you and Beverly. The day you threw Marcos out of
+  here was the first time I ever had a champion to defend me."<br>
+  <br>
+  I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her what I dared not
+  think she would let me say. So I listened in sympathetic
+  silence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then came an awful day out at Agua Fria, and Father Josef took
+  me in his arms as he would take a baby, and sang me to sleep with
+  the songs my mother loved to sing. I think it must have been
+  midnight when I wakened. It was dreary and cold, and Esmond
+  Clarenden and Ferdinand Ramero were there, and Father Josef and
+  Jondo."<br>
+  <br>
+  And then she told me, as she remembered them, the happenings of
+  that night at Agua Fria, the same story that Jondo told me later.
+  But until that evening I had known nothing of how Eloise had come
+  to us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You know the rest," Eloise went on "I have had a boarding-school
+  life, and no real friends, except the Clarenden family, outside
+  of these schools."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You poor little girl! One of the same Clarenden family is ready
+  to be your friend now," I said, tenderly, remembering keenly how
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo had loved and protected three orphan
+  children.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Rameros think nobody but a Ramero can do that now. Marcos is
+  very much changed. He has been educated in Europe, is handsome,
+  and courtly in his manners, and as his father's heir he will be
+  wealthy. He came to-night to ask me, to urge and plead with me,
+  to marry him." Eloise paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you need the defense of a bull-whacker of the plains against
+  these things?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I could depend on myself if it were only Marcos. He comes
+  with polished ways and pleasing words," Eloise replied. "It is
+  his father's iron fist back of him that strikes at me through his
+  graciousness. He tells me that all the St. Vrain money, which he
+  controls by the terms of my father's will, he can give to the
+  Church, if he chooses, and leave me disinherited."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We don't mind that a bit as a starter up in Kansas. Come out on
+  our prairies and try it," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail, that isn't all. There is something worse, dreadfully
+  worse, that I cannot tell you, that only the Rameros know, and
+  hold like a sword over my head. If I marry Marcos his father will
+  destroy all evidence of it and I shall have a handsome, talented,
+  rich husband." Eloise bowed her head and clasped her hands,
+  crushed by the misery of her lot.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And if you refuse to marry this scoundrel?" I asked,
+  bluntly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then I will be a penniless outcast. The Rameros are powerful
+  here, and the Church will be with them, for it will get my
+  inheritance. I am helpless and alone and I don't know what to
+  do."<br>
+  <br>
+  I think I had never known what anger meant before. This beautiful
+  girl, homeless, and about to be robbed of her fortune, reared in
+  luxury, with no chance for developing self-reliance and courage,
+  was being hemmed in and forced to a marriage by threats of
+  poverty and a secret something against which she was powerless.
+  All the manhood in me rallied to her cause, and she was an
+  hundredfold dearer to me now, in her helplessness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I'm a horny-handed driver of a bull-team on the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail, but you will let me help you if I can. So far as
+  your money is concerned, there's a lot of it on earth, even if
+  the Church should grab up your little bit because Ferdinand
+  Ramero says your father's will permits it. There are evil
+  representatives in every Church, no matter what its name may be,
+  Catholic, Protestant, Indian, or Jew, but Father Josef up there
+  is bigger than his priestly coat, and you can trust that size
+  anywhere. And as to the knowledge of this 'something' known just
+  to Ferdinand Ramero, if he is the only one who knows it, it is
+  too small to get far, if it were turned loose. And any man who
+  would use such infamous means to get what he wants is too small
+  to have much influence if he doesn't get it. This is a big, wide,
+  good world, Little Lees, and the father of Marcos Ramero, with
+  all his power and wealth, has a short lariat that doesn't let him
+  graze wide. Jondo holds the other end of that lariat, and he
+  knows."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise listened eagerly, but her face was very white.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, you don't know the Ramero blood. I am helpless and
+  terrified with them in spite of their suave manners and
+  flattering words. Why did Father Josef bring me back here if the
+  Church is not with them? And then that awful shadow of some
+  hidden thing that may darken my life. I know their cruel,
+  pitiless hearts. They stop at nothing when they want their way. I
+  have known them to do the most cold-blooded deeds."<br>
+  <br>
+  Poor Eloise! The net about her had been skilfully drawn.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know Father Josef's motive, but I can trust him. And no
+  shadow shall trouble you long, Little Lees. Jondo and Uncle
+  Esmond `tote together,' Aunty Boone said long ago. They know
+  something about the Ramero blood, and Jondo has promised to tell
+  me his story some day. He must do it to-night, and to-morrow
+  we'll see the end of this tangle. Trust me, Eloise," I said,
+  comfortingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail, I'm afraid Ferdinand will kill you if you get in his
+  way." Eloise clung to my arm imploringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Six big Kiowas got fooled at that job. Do you think this thin
+  streak of humanity would try it?" I asked, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise stood up beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I must go away now," she said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then I'll go with you. Thank you, Father Josef, for your
+  kindness," I said as the priest came toward us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are welcome, my son. In the sanctuary circle no harm can
+  come. Peace be with both of you."<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a world of benediction in his deep tones, and his smile
+  was genial, as he followed us to the street and stood as if
+  watching for some one.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will meet you at San Miguel's to-morrow afternoon, Gail,"
+  Eloise said, as we reached a low but pretentious adobe dwelling.
+  "This is my home now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Your new Mexican homes are thick-walled, and you live all on the
+  inside," I said, as we paused at the doorway. "They make me think
+  of the lower invertebrates, hard-shelled, soft-bodied animals. Up
+  on the Kansas prairies and the Missouri bluffs we have a central
+  vetebra--the family hearth-stone--and we live all around it. That
+  is the people who have them do. There isn't much home life for a
+  freighter of the plains anywhere. Good by, Little Lees." I took
+  her offered hand. "I'm glad you have let me be your friend, a
+  hard-shelled bull-whacker like me."<br>
+  <br>
+  The street was full of shadows and the evening air was chill as
+  the door closed on that sweet face and cloud of golden hair. But
+  the pressure of warm white fingers lingered long in my sense of
+  touch as I retraced my steps to the trail's end. At the church
+  door I saw Father Josef still waiting, as if watching for
+  somebody.<br>
+  <br>
+  All that Eloise had told me ran through my mind, but I felt sure
+  that neither financial nor churchly influence in Santa F&eacute;
+  could be turned to evil purposes so long as men like Felix Narveo
+  and Father Josef were there. And then I thought of Esmond
+  Clarenden, himself neither Mexican nor Roman Catholic, who,
+  nevertheless, drew to himself such fair-dealing, high-minded men
+  as these, always finding the best to aid him, and combating the
+  worst with daring fearlessness. Surely with the priest and the
+  merchant and Jondo as my uncle's representative, no harm could
+  come to the girl whom I knew that I should always love.<br>
+  <br>
+  And with my mind full of Eloise and her need I sought out Jondo
+  and listened to his story. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV">XIV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  OPENING THE RECORD</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Fighting for leave to live and labor well,<br>
+  God flung me peace and ease.<br>
+                              --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  I found Jondo in the little piazza opening into the hotel
+  court.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where did you leave Krane and Bev?" he asked, as I sat down
+  beside him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't leave them; they left me," I answered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, you young bucks are all alike. You know just enough to be
+  good to yourselves. You don't think much about anybody else,"
+  Jondo said, with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think of others, Jondo, and for that reason I want you to tell
+  me that story about Ferdinand Ramero that you promised to tell me
+  one night back on the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo gave a start.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd like to forget that man, not talk about him," he
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But it is to help somebody else, not just to be good to myself,
+  that I want to know it," I insisted, using his own terms. And
+  then I told him what Eloise had told me in the San Miguel
+  church.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are the Ramero's so powerful here that they can control the
+  Church in their scheme to get what they want?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It would be foolish to underestimate the strength of Ferdinand
+  Ramero," Jondo replied, adding, grimly, "It has been my lot to
+  know the best of men who could make me believe all men are good,
+  and the worst of men who make me doubt all humanity." He clenched
+  his fists as if to hold himself in check, and something, neither
+  sigh nor groan nor oath nor prayer, but like them all, burst from
+  his lips.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the
+  green prairies and the open plains, and the danger-stimulus of
+  the old Santa F&eacute; Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and
+  soften your hard, rebellious heart, and make you see things big,
+  and despise the narrow little crooks in your path."<br>
+  <br>
+  One must have known Jondo, with his bluff manner and sunny smile
+  and daring spirit, to feel the force, of these brave sad words. I
+  felt intuitively that I had laid bare a wound of his by my
+  story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is for Eloise, not for my curiosity, that I have come to
+  you," I said, gently. "And you didn't come too soon, boy." Jondo
+  was himself in a moment. "It is another cruel act in the old
+  tragedy of Ramero against Clarenden and others."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Will the Church be bribed by the St. Vrain estate and urge this
+  wedding?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Church considers money as so much power for the Kingdom. I
+  have heard that the St. Vrain estate was left in Ramero's hands
+  with the proviso that if Eloise should marry foolishly before she
+  was twenty-five she, would lose her property. Do you see the
+  trick in the game, and why Ramero can say that if he chooses he
+  can take her heritage away from her? But as he keeps everything
+  in his own hands it is hard to know the truth about anything
+  connected with money matters."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Would Father Josef be party to such a transaction?" I asked,
+  angrily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Ramero thinks so, but he is mistaken," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think he won't be?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because I knew Father Josef before he became a priest, and why
+  he took the vows," Jondo declared. "Unless a man brings some
+  manhood to the altar, he will not find it in the title nor the
+  dress there, it makes no difference whether he be Catholic,
+  Protestant, Hebrew, or heathen. Father Josef was a gentleman
+  before he was a priest."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, if he's all right, why did he bring Eloise back here into
+  the heart of all this trouble?" I questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo sat thinking for a little while, then he said,
+  assuringly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know his motive, unless he felt he could protect her
+  here himself; but I tell you, my boy, he can be trusted. Let me
+  tell you something, Gail. When Esmond Clarenden and I were boys
+  back in a New England college we knew two fellows from the
+  Southwest whose fathers were in official circles at Washington.
+  One was Felix Narveo, thoroughbred Mexican, thoroughbred
+  gentleman, a bit lacking in initiative sometimes, for he came
+  from the warmer, lazier lands, but as true as the compass in his
+  character. The other fellow was Dick Verra, French father,
+  English mother; I think he had a strain of Indian blood farther
+  back somewhere, but he would have been a prince in any tribe or
+  nation. A happy, wholesome, red-blooded, young fellow, with the
+  world before him for his conquest.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We knew another fellow, too, Fred Ramer, self-willed, imperious,
+  extravagant in his habits, greedy and unscrupulous; but he was
+  handsome and masterful, with a compelling magnetism that made us
+  admire him and bound us to him. He had never known what it meant
+  to have a single wish denied him. And with his make-up, he would
+  stop at nothing to have his own way, until his wilful pride and
+  stubbornness and love of luxury ruined him. But in our college
+  days we were his satellites. He was always in debt to all of us,
+  for money was his only god and we never dared to press him for
+  payment. The only one of us who ever overruled him was Dick
+  Verra. But Dick was a born master of men. There was one other
+  chum of ours, but I'll tell you about him later. Boys together,
+  we had many escapades and some serious problems, until by the
+  time our college days were over we were bound together by those
+  ties that are made in jest and broken with choking voices and
+  eyes full of tears."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused and I waited, silent, until he should continue.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Things happened to that little group of college men as time went
+  on. You know your uncle's life, leading merchant of Kansas City
+  and the Southwest; and mine, plainsman and freighter on the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail. Felix Narveo's history is easily read. Esmond
+  Clarenden came down here at the outbreak of the Mexican War, and
+  together he and Narveo laid the foundation for the present trail
+  commerce that is making the country at either end of it rich and
+  strong. Dick Verra is now Father Josef." Jondo paused as if to
+  gather force for the rest of the story. Then he said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Back at college we all knew Mary Marchland, a beautiful
+  Louisiana girl who visited in Washington and New England, and all
+  of us were in love with her. When our life-lines crossed again
+  Clarenden had come to St. Louis. About that time his two older
+  brothers and their wives died suddenly of yellow fever, leaving
+  you and Beverly alone. It was Felix Narveo who brought you up to
+  St. Louis to your uncle."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember that. The steamboat, and the Spanish language, and
+  Felix Narveo's face. I recalled that when I saw him years ago," I
+  exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You always were all eyes and ears, remembering names and faces,
+  where Beverly would not recall anything," Jondo declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And what became of your Fred Ramer?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is Ferdinand Ramero here. He married Narveo's sister later.
+  She is not the mother of Marcos, but a second wife. She owned a
+  tract of land inherited from the Narveo estate down in the San
+  Christobal country. There is a lonely ranch house in a
+  picturesque ca&ntilde;on, and many acres of grazing-land. She
+  keeps it still as hers, although her stepson, Marcos, claims it
+  now. It is for her sake that Narveo doesn't dare to move openly
+  against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
+  with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
+  freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's
+  why I knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at
+  Pawnee Rock. I could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He
+  joined the Catholic Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But
+  the traits of his young manhood, intensified, are still his. He
+  is handsome, and attractive, and rich, and influential, but he is
+  also cold-blooded, and greedy for money until it is his ruling
+  passion, villainously unscrupulous, and mercilessly unforgiving
+  toward any one who opposes his will; and his capacity for undying
+  hatred is appalling."<br>
+  <br>
+  And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of
+  Eloise St. Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in
+  his life that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he
+  went mad with jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters
+  than whisky and opium, once they get a man down."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one
+  who, from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an
+  enemy and turn away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her
+  life. He came between her and the man she loved with such adroit
+  cruelty that they were separated, and although they loved each
+  other always, they never saw each other again. Through a terrible
+  network of misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by
+  the way, was the other college chum I spoke of just now. He and
+  his foster-brother, Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father.
+  But their guardian, the elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their
+  property and there was bitter enmity between them and him. Theron
+  and Mary were the parents of Eloise St. Vrain. It is no wonder
+  that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland for a mother.
+  Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his property
+  fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend to
+  Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy
+  marriage. In that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give
+  the estate to the Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died,
+  nor where she is buried, except Fred and his confessor, Father
+  Josef."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a
+  truer eye and a sweeter smile than my big Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Fred Ramer was desperately in need of money when he was plotting
+  to darken the life of Mary Marchland--that was just before the
+  birth of Eloise--and through her sorrow to break the heart of the
+  man whom she loved--I said we college boys were all in love with
+  her, you remember. Let me make it short now. One night Fred's
+  father was murdered, by whom was never exactly proven. But he was
+  last seen alive with his ward, Theron St. Wain, who, with his
+  foster-brother, Bertrand, thoroughly despised him for his plain
+  robbery of their heritage.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The case was strong against Theron, for the evidence was very
+  damaging, and it would have gone hard with him but for the
+  foster-brother. Bertrand St. Wain took the guilt upon himself by
+  disappearing suddenly. He was supposed to have drowned himself in
+  the lower Mississippi, for his body, recognized only by some
+  clothing, was recovered later in a drift and decently buried. So
+  <i>he</i> was effaced from the records of man."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim light Jondo's blue eyes were like dull steel and his
+  face was a face of stone, but he continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just here Clarenden comes into the story. He learned it through
+  Felix Narveo, and Felix got it from the Mexicans themselves, that
+  Fred Ramer had plotted with them to put his father out of the
+  way--I said he was desperately in need of money--and to lay the
+  crime on Theron St. Vrain, by whose disgrace the life of Mary
+  Marchland would be blighted, and Fred would have his revenge and
+  his father's money. Narveo was afraid to act against Ramer, but
+  nothing ever scared Esmond Clarenden away from what he wanted to
+  do. Through his friendship for St. Vrain, to whom some suspicion
+  still clung, and that lost foster-brother, Bertrand, he turned
+  the screws on Fred Ramer that drove him out of the country. He
+  landed, finally, at Santa F&eacute;, and became Ferdinand Ramero.
+  He managed by his charming manners to enchant the sister of Felix
+  Narveo--and you know the rest."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Didn't Felix Narveo go to Fort Leavenworth once, just before
+  Uncle Esmond brought us with him to Santa F&eacute;?" I
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he went to warn Clarenden not to leave you there
+  unprotected, for a band of Ramero's henchmen were on their way
+  then to the Missouri River--we passed them at Council Grove--to
+  kidnap you three and take you to old Mexico," Jondo said. "An
+  example of Fred's efforts to get even with Clarenden and of the
+  loyalty of Narveo to his old college chum. The same gang of
+  Mexicans had kidnapped Little Blue Flower and given her to the
+  Kiowas."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You told me that Uncle Esmond forced Ferdinand Ramero out of the
+  country on account of a wrong done to you, Jondo," I reminded the
+  big plainsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He did," Jondo replied. "I told you that we all loved Mary
+  Marchland. Fred Ramer broke under his loss of her, and became the
+  devil's own tool of hate and revenge, and what generally gets
+  tied up with these sooner or later, a passion for money and
+  irregular means of getting it. Money is as great an asset for
+  hate as for love, and Fred sold his soul for it long ago.
+  Clarenden came to the frontier and lost himself in the building
+  of the plains commerce, and his heart he gave to the three orphan
+  children to whom he gave a home. When New Mexico came under our
+  flag Narveo came with it, a good citizen and a loyal patriot. He
+  married a Mexican woman of culture and lives a contented life.
+  Dick Verra went into the Church. I came to the plains, and the
+  stimulus of danger, and the benediction of the open sky, and the
+  healing touch of the prairie winds, and the solemn stillness of
+  the great distances have made me something more of a man than I
+  should have been. Maybe I was hurt the worst. Clarenden thought I
+  was. Sometimes I think Dick Verra got the best of all of us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's voice trailed off into silence and I knew what his hurt
+  was--that he was the man whom Mary Marchland had loved, from whom
+  Fred Ramer, by his cruel machinations, had separated her--"<i>and
+  although they loved each other always, they never saw each other
+  again</i>." Poor Jondo! What a man among men this unknown
+  freighter of the plains might have been--and what a loss to the
+  plains in the best of the trail years if Jondo had never dared
+  its dangers for the safety of the generations to come.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the thought of Eloise, driven out momentarily by Jondo's
+  story, came rushing in again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You said you put a ring around Ramero to keep him in Santa
+  F&eacute;. Can't we get Eloise outside of it?" I urged,
+  anxiously.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe I should have said that Father Josef put it around him for
+  me," Jondo replied. "He confessed his crimes fully to the Church.
+  He couldn't get by Father Josef. Here he is much honored and
+  secure and we let him alone. The disgrace he holds the secret
+  of--he alone--is that the father of Eloise killed his father, the
+  crime for which the foster-brother fell. Ramero as guardian of
+  Eloise and her property legally could have kept her here. Only a
+  man like Clarenden would have dared to take her away, though he
+  had the pleading call of her mother's last wish. Gail, I have
+  told you the heart-history of half a dozen men. If this had
+  stopped with us we could forgive after a while, but it runs down
+  to you and Beverly and Eloise and Marcos, who will carry out his
+  father's plans to the letter. So the battle is all to be fought
+  over again. Let me leave you a minute or two. I'll not be gone
+  long."<br>
+  <br>
+  I sat alone, staring out at the shadowy court and, above it, the
+  blue night-sky of New Mexico inlaid with stars, until a rush of
+  feet in the hall and a shout of inquiry told me that Beverly
+  Clarenden was hunting for me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime the girl in Mexican dress, who had come out of the
+  church with Father Josef when he came to greet Eloise and me, had
+  passed unnoticed through the Plaza and out on the way leading to
+  the northeast. Here she came to the blind adobe wall of La
+  Garita, whose olden purpose one still may read in the many
+  bullet-holes in its brown sides. Here she paused, and as the
+  evening shadows lengthened the dress and wall blended their dull
+  tones together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden, who had gone with Rex Krane up to Fort Marcy
+  that evening, had left his companion to watch the sunset and
+  dream of Mat back on the Missouri bluff, while he wandered down
+  La Garita. He did not see the Mexican woman standing motionless,
+  a dark splotch against a dun wall, until a soft Hopi voice
+  called, eagerly, "Beverly, Beverly."<br>
+  <br>
+  The black scarf fell from the bright face, and Indian garb--not
+  Po-a-be, the student of St. Ann's and the guest of the Clarenden
+  home, with the white Grecian robe and silver headband set with
+  coral pendants, as Beverly had seen her last in the side porch on
+  the night of Mat's wedding, but Little Blue Flower, the Indian of
+  the desert lands, stood before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where the devil--I mean the holy saints and angels, did you come
+  from?" Beverly cried, in delight, at seeing a familiar face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I came here to do Father Josef some service. He has been good to
+  me. I bring a message."<br>
+  <br>
+  She reached out her hand with a letter. Beverly took the letter
+  and the hand. He put the message in his pocket, but he did not
+  release the hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's something for Jondo. I'll see that he gets it, all right.
+  Tell me all about yourself now, Little
+  Run-Off-and-Never-Come-Back." It was Beverly's way to make people
+  love him, because he loved people.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was late at last, too late for prudence, older heads would
+  agree, when these two separated, and my cousin came to pounce
+  upon me in the hotel court to tell me of his adventure.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I learned a lot of things," he added. "That Indian in the
+  Plaza to-day is Santan, or Satan, dead sure; and you'd never
+  guess, but he's the same redskin--Apache red--that was out at
+  Agua Fria that time we were there long ago. The very same little
+  sneak! He followed us clear to Bent's Fort. He put up a good
+  story to Jondo, but I'll bet he was somebody's tool. You know
+  what a critter he was there. But listen now! He's got his eye on
+  Little Blue Flower. He's plain wild Injun, and she's a Saint
+  Ann's scholar. Isn't that presumption, though! She's afraid of
+  him, too. This country fairly teams with romance, doesn't
+  it?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, don't you ever take anything seriously?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I guess I do. I found that Santan, dead loaded with
+  jealousy, sneaking after us in the dark to-night when I took
+  Little Blue Flower for a stroll. I took him seriously, and told
+  him exactly where he'd find me next time he was looking for me.
+  That I'd stand him up against La Garita and make a sieve out of
+  him," Beverly said, carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, you are a fool to get that Apache's
+  ill-will," I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I may be, but I'm no coward," Beverly retorted. "Oh, here comes
+  Jondo. I've got a letter from Father Josef. Invitation to some
+  churchly dinner, I expect."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly threw the letter into Jondo's hands and turned to leave
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Wait a minute!" Jondo commanded, and my cousin halted in
+  surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When did you get this? I should have had it two hours ago,"
+  Jondo said, sternly. "Father Josef must have waited a long time
+  up at the church door for his messenger to come back and bring
+  him word from me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly frankly told him the truth, as from childhood we had
+  learned was the easiest way out of trouble.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's smile came back to his eyes, but his lips did not smile
+  as he said: "Gail, you can explain things to Bev. This is serious
+  business, but it had to come sooner or later. The battle is on,
+  and we'll fight it out. Ferdinand Ramero is determined that
+  Eloise and his son shall be married early to-morrow morning. The
+  bribe to the Church is one-half of the St. Vrain estate. The club
+  over Eloise is the shame of some disgrace that he holds the key
+  to. He will stop at nothing to have his own way, and he will
+  stoop to any brutal means to secure it. He has a host of fellows
+  ready at his call to do any crime for his sake. That's how far
+  money and an ungovernable passion can lead a man. If I had known
+  this sooner, we would have acted to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly groaned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me go and kill that man. There ought to be a bounty on such
+  wild beasts," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'd do that for you through a Mexican dagger, or an Apache
+  arrow, if you got in his way," Jondo replied. "But what we must
+  do is this: Twenty miles south on the San Christobal Arroyo there
+  is a lonely ranch-house on the old Narveo estate, a forgotten
+  place, but it is a veritable fort, built a hundred years ago,
+  when every house here was a fort. To-morrow at daybreak you must
+  start with Eloise and Sister Anita down there. I will see Father
+  Josef later and tell him where I have sent you. Little Blue
+  Flower will show you the way. It is a dangerous ride, and you
+  must make it as quickly and as silently as possible. A bullet
+  from some little ca&ntilde;on could find you easily if Ramero
+  should know your trail. Will you go?"<br>
+  <br>
+  There was no need for the question as Jondo well knew, but his
+  face was bright with courage and hope, and a thankfulness he
+  could not express shone in his eyes as he looked at us, big,
+  stalwart, eager and unafraid. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XV" id="XV">XV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Mark where she stands! Around her form I draw<br>
+  The awful circle of our solemn church!<br>
+  Set but a foot within that holy ground,<br>
+  And on thy head--yea, though it wore a crown--<br>
+  launch the curse of Rome.<br>
+                                          --"RICHELIEU."</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The faint rose hue of early dawn was touching the highest peaks
+  of the Sandia and Jemez mountain ranges, while the valley of the
+  Rio Grande still lay asleep under dull night shadows, when five
+  ponies and their riders left the door of San Miguel church and
+  rode southward in the slowly paling gloom. In the stillness of
+  the hour the ponies' feet, muffled in the sand of the way, seemed
+  to clatter noisily, and their trappings creaked loudly in the
+  dead silence of the place. Little Blue Flower, no longer in her
+  Mexican dress, led the line. Behind her Beverly and the
+  white-faced nun of St. Ann's rode side by side; and behind these
+  came Eloise St. Vrain and myself. From the church door Jondo had
+  watched us until we melted into the misty shadows of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go carefully and fearlessly and ride hard if you must. But the
+  struggle will be here with me to-day, not where you are," he
+  assured us, when we started away.<br>
+  <br>
+  As he turned to leave the church, an Indian rose from the shadows
+  beyond it and stepped before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You remember me, Santan, the Apache, at Fort Bent?" he
+  questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked keenly to be sure that his memory fitted the man
+  before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you are Santan. You brought me a message from Father Josef
+  once."<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian's face did not change by the twitch of an eyelash as
+  he replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I would bring another message from him. He would see you an hour
+  later than you planned. The young riders, where shall I tell him
+  they have gone?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the old ranch-house on the San Christobal Arroyo," Jondo
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian smiled, and turning quickly, he disappeared up the
+  dark street. A sudden thrill shook Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef said I could trust that boy entirely. Surely old
+  Dick Verra, part Indian himself, couldn't be mistaken. But that
+  Apache lied to me. I know it now; and I told him where our boys
+  are taking Eloise. I never made a blunder like that before.
+  Damned fool that I am!"<br>
+  <br>
+  He ground his teeth in anger and disgust, as he sat down in the
+  doorway of the church to await the coming of Ferdinand Ramero and
+  his son, Marcos.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out on the trail our ponies beat off the miles with steady gait.
+  As the way narrowed, we struck into single file, moving silently
+  forward under the guidance of Little Blue Flower, now plunging
+  into dark ca&ntilde;ons, where the trail was rocky and perilous,
+  now climbing the steep sidling paths above the open plain.
+  Morning came swiftly over the Gloriettas. Darkness turned to
+  gray; shapeless masses took on distinctness; the night chill
+  softened to the crisp breeze of dawn. Then came the rare June day
+  in whose bright opening hour the crystal skies of New Mexico hung
+  above us, and about us lay a landscape with radiant lights on the
+  rich green of the mesa slopes, and gray levels atint with
+  mother-of-pearl and gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian pueblos were astir. Mexican faces showed now and then
+  at the doorways of far-scattered groups of adobe huts. Outside of
+  these all was silence--a motionless land full of wild, rugged
+  beauty, and thrilling with the spell of mystery and glamour of
+  romance. And overbrooding all, the spirit of the past, that made
+  each winding trail a footpath of the centuries; each sheer cliff
+  a watch-tower of the ages; each wide sandy plain, a
+  rallying-ground for the tribes long ago gone to dust; each narrow
+  valley a battle-field for the death-struggle between the dusky
+  sovereigns of a wilderness kingdom and the pale-faced conquerors
+  of the coat of mail and the dominant soul. The sense of danger
+  lessened with distance and no knight of old Spain ever rode more
+  proudly in the days of chivalry than Beverly Clarenden and I rode
+  that morning, fearing nothing, sure of our power to protect the
+  golden-haired girl, thrilled by this strange flight through a
+  land of strange scenes fraught with the charm of daring and
+  danger. Beverly rode forward now with Little Blue Flower. I did
+  not wonder at her spell over him, for she was in her own land
+  now, and she matched its picturesque phases with her own
+  picturesque racial charm.<br>
+  <br>
+  I rode beside Eloise, forgetting, in the sweet air and glorious
+  June sunlight, that we were following an uncertain trail away
+  from certain trouble.<br>
+  <br>
+  The white-faced nun in her somber dress, rode between, with
+  serious countenance and downcast eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What happened to you, Little Lees, after I left you?" I asked,
+  as we trotted forward toward the San Christobal valley.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Everything, Gail," she replied, looking up at me with shy, sad
+  eyes. "First Ferdinand Ramero came to me with the command that I
+  should consent to be married this morning. By this time I would
+  have been Marcos' wife." She shivered as she spoke. "I can't tell
+  you the way of it, it was so final, so cruel, so impossible to
+  oppose. Ferdinand's eyes cut like steel when they look at you,
+  and you know he will do more than he threatens. He said the
+  Church demanded one-half of my little fortune and that he could
+  give it the other half if he chose. He is as imperious as a
+  tyrant in his pleasanter moods; in his anger he is a maniac. I
+  believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
+  threats of disgracing me were terrible."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her
+  wretched memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has
+  an Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her
+  come in to see me late last night or I should not have been here
+  now. I had almost given up when she brought me word that you and
+  Beverly would meet me at the church at daylight. I have not slept
+  since. What will be the end of this day's work? Isn't there
+  safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the fair, sad face with
+  the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight
+  it out in Santa F&eacute; to-day. It is our work to go where the
+  Hopi blossom leads us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let
+  anything happen to you."<br>
+  <br>
+  I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall
+  that morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my
+  abounding vigor and confidence in my courage and my powers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked
+  the way of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande. On
+  either hand tall cliffs, huge weather-worn points of rock, and
+  steep slopes, spotted with evergreen shrubs, bordered the river's
+  course. The silent bigness of every feature of the landscape and
+  the beauty of the June day in the June time of our lives, and our
+  sense of security in having escaped the shadows and strife in
+  Santa F&eacute;, all combined to make us free-spirited. Only
+  Sister Anita rode, alert and sorrowful-faced, between Beverly and
+  the gaily-robed Indian girl, and myself with Eloise, the
+  beautiful.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we rounded a bend in the narrow valley, Little Blue Flower
+  halted us, and pointing to an old half-ruined rock structure
+  beside the stream, she said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "See, yonder is the chapel where Father Josef comes sometimes to
+  pray for the souls of the Hopi people. The house we go to find is
+  farther up a ca&ntilde;on over there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember the place," Eloise declared. "Father Josef brought me
+  here once and left me awhile. I wasn't afraid, although I was
+  alone, for he told me I was always safe in a church. But I was
+  never allowed to come back again."<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita crossed herself and, glancing over her shoulder,
+  gave a sharp cry of alarm. We turned about to see a group, of
+  horsemen dashing madly up the trail behind us. The wind in their
+  faces blew back the great cloud of dust made by their horses
+  hoofs, hiding their number and the way behind them. Their steeds
+  were wet with foam, but their riders spurred them on with
+  merciless fury. In the forefront Ferdinand Ramero's tall form,
+  towering above the small statured evil-faced Mexican band he was
+  leading, was outlined against the dust-cloud following them, and
+  I caught the glint of light on his drawn revolver. "Ride! Ride
+  like the devil!" Beverly shouted.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the same time he and the Hopi girl whirled out and, letting us
+  pass, fell in as a rear guard between us and our pursuers. And
+  the race was on.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had said the lonely ranch-house whither we were tending was
+  as strong as a fort. Surely it could not be far away, and our
+  ponies were not spent with hard riding. Before us the valley
+  narrowed slightly, and on its rim jagged rock cliffs rose through
+  three hundred feet of earthquake-burst, volcanic-tossed confusion
+  to the high tableland beyond.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we strained forward, half a dozen Mexican horsemen suddenly
+  appeared on the trail before us to cut off our advance. Down
+  between us and the new enemy stood the old stone chapel, like the
+  shadow of a great rock in a weary land, where for two hundred
+  long years it had set up an altar to the Most High on this lonely
+  savage plain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The chapel! The chapel! We must run to that now," cried Sister
+  Anita.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her long veil was streaming back in the wind, and her rosary and
+  crucifix beating about her shoulders with the hard riding, but
+  her white face was brave with a divine trust. Yet even as she
+  urged us I saw how imposible was her plea, for the men in
+  front were already nearer to the place than we were. At the same
+  time a pony dashed up beside me, and Little Blue Flower's voice
+  rang in my ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The rocks! Climb up and hide in the rocks!" She dropped back on
+  one side of Beverly, with Sister Anita on the other, guarding our
+  rear. As I turned our flight toward the cliff, I caught sight of
+  an Indian in a wedge of rock just across the river, and I heard
+  the singing flight of an arrow behind me, followed almost
+  instantly by another arrow. I looked back to see Sister Anita's
+  pony staggering and rearing in agony, with Little Blue Flower
+  trying vainly to catch its bridle-rein, and Sister Anita,
+  clutching wildly at her rosary, a great stream of blood flowing
+  from an arrow wound in her neck.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men think swiftly in moments like these. The impulse to halt, and
+  the duty to press on for the protection of the girl beside me,
+  holding me in doubt. Instantly I saw the dark crew, with
+  Ferdinand Ramero leading fiercely forward, almost upon us, and I
+  heard Beverly Clarenden's voice filling the valley--"Run, Gail,
+  run! You can beat 'em up there."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a cry of insistences and assurances and power, and withal
+  there was that minor tone of sympathy which had sounded in the
+  boy's defiant voice long ago in the gray-black shadows below
+  Pawnee Rock, when his chivalric soul had been stirred by the
+  cruel wrongs of Little Blue Flower and he had cried:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  I knew in a flash that the three behind us were cut off, and
+  Eloise St. Vrain and I pressed on alone. We crossed the narrow
+  strip of rising ground to where the first rocks lay as they had
+  fallen from the cliff above, split off by some titanic agony of
+  nature. Up and up we went, our ponies stumbling now and then, but
+  almost as surefooted as men, as they climbed the narrow way. Now
+  the rocks hid us from the plain as we crept sturdily through
+  narrow crevices, and now we clambered up an open path where
+  nothing concealed our way. But higher still and higher, foot, by
+  foot we pressed, while with oath and growl behind us came our
+  pursuers.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we could ride no farther, and the miracle was that our
+  ponies could have climbed so far. Above us huge slabs of stone,
+  by some internal cataclysm hurled into fragments of unguessed
+  tons of weight, seemed poised in air, about to topple down upon
+  the plain below. Between these wild, irregular masses a narrow
+  footing zigzagged upward to still other wild, irregular masses, a
+  footing of long leaps in cramped spaces between sharp edges of
+  upright clefts, all gigantic, unbending, now shielding by their
+  immense angles, now standing sheer and stark before us, casting
+  no shadows to cover us from the great white glare of the
+  New-Mexican day.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have said no man knows where his mind will run in moments of
+  peril. As we left our ponies and clambered up and up in hope of
+  safety somewhere, the face of the rocks cut and carved by the
+  rude stone tools of a race long perished, seemed to hold groups
+  of living things staring at us and pointing the way. And there
+  was no end to these crude pictographs. Over and over and
+  over--the human hand, the track of the little road-runner bird,
+  the plumed serpent coiled or in waving line, the human form with
+  the square body and round head, with staring circles for eyes and
+  mouth, and straight-line limbs.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were fleeing for safety through the sacred aisles of a people
+  God had made; and when they served His purpose no longer, they
+  had perished. I did not think of them so that morning. I thought
+  only of some hiding-place, some inaccessible point where nothing
+  could reach the girl I must protect. But these crawling serpents,
+  cut in the rock surfaces, crawled on and on. These human hands,
+  poor detached hands, were lifted up in mute token of what had
+  gone before. These two-eyed, one-mouthed circles on heads fast to
+  body-boxes, from which waved tentacle limbs, jigged by us, to
+  give place to other coiled or crawling serpents and their
+  companion carvings, with the track of the swift road-runner
+  skipping by us everywhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last, with bleeding hands and torn clothing, we stood on a
+  level rock like a tiny mesa set out from the high summit of the
+  cliff.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise sat down at my feet as I looked back eagerly over the
+  precipitous way we had come, and watched the band of Mexicans
+  less rapidly swarming up the same steep, devious trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Three hundred feet below us lay the plain with the thin current
+  of the San Christobal River sparkling here and there in the
+  sunlight. The black spot on the trail that scarcely moved must be
+  Beverly and Little Blue Flower with Sister Anita. No, there was
+  only the Indian girl there, and something moving in and out of
+  the shadow near them. I could not see for the intervening
+  rocks.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail! Gail! You will not let them take you. You will not leave
+  me," Eloise moaned.<br>
+  <br>
+  And I was one against a dozen. I stooped to where she sat and
+  gently lifted her limp white hand, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I was on a rock like this a night and a day alone on the
+  prairie. I could not move nor cry out. But something inside told
+  me to 'hold fast'--the old law of the trail. You must do that
+  with me now."<br>
+  <br>
+  A shout broke over the valley and the rocks about us seemed
+  suddenly to grow men, as if every pictograph of the old stone age
+  had become a sentient thing, a being with a Mexican dress, and
+  the soul of a devil. Just across a narrow chasm, a little below
+  us, Ferdinand Ramero stood in all the insolence of a conqueror,
+  with a smile that showed his white teeth, and in his steely eyes
+  was the glitter of a snake about to spring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have given us a hard race. By Jove, you rode magnificently
+  and climbed heroically. I admire you for it. It is fine to bring
+  down game like you, Clarenden. You have your uncle's spirit, and
+  a six-foot body that dwarfs his short stature. And we come as
+  gentlemen only, if we can deal with a gentleman. It wasn't our
+  men who struck your nun down there. But if you, young man, dare
+  to show one ounce of fighting spirit now, behind you on the
+  rocks--don't look--as I lift my hand are my good friends who will
+  put a bullet into the brain beneath that golden hair, and you
+  will follow. Being a game-cock cannot help you now. It will only
+  hasten things. Deliver that girl to me at once, or my men will
+  close in upon you and no power on earth can save you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise had sprung to her feet and stood beside me, and both of us
+  knew the helplessness of our plight. A startling picture it must
+  have been, and one the cliffs above the San Christobal will
+  hardly see again: the blue June sky arched overhead, unscarred by
+  a single cloud-fleck, the yellow plain winding between the high
+  picturesque cliffs, where silence broods all through the long
+  hours of the sunny day; the pictured rocks with their
+  furnace-blackened faces white--outlined with the story of the dim
+  beginnings of human strivings. And standing alone and defenseless
+  on the little table of stone, as if for sacrifice, the tall,
+  stalwart young plainsman and the beautiful girl with her golden
+  hair in waving masses about her uncovered head, her sweet face
+  white as the face of the dying nun beside the sandy arroyo below
+  us, her big dark eyes full of a strange fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I order you to close in and take these two at once." The
+  imperious command rang out, and the rocks across the valley must
+  have echoed its haughty tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I order you to halt."<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice of Father Josef, clear and rich and powerful, burst
+  upon the silence like cathedral music on the still midnight air.
+  The priest's tall form rose up on a great mass of rock across the
+  cleft before us--Father Josef with bared head and flashing eyes
+  and a physique of power.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero turned like a lion at bay. "You are one man. My
+  force number a full dozen. Move on," he ordered.<br>
+  <br>
+  Again the voice of Father Josef ruled the listening ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Since the days of old the Church has had the power to guard all
+  that come within the shelter of the holy sanctuary. And to the
+  Church of God was given also long ago the might to protect, by
+  sanctuary privilege, the needy and the defenseless. Ferdinand
+  Ramero, note that little table of rock where those two stand
+  helpless in your grasp. Around them now I throw, as I have power
+  to throw, the sacred circle of our Holy Church in sanctuary
+  shelter. Who dares to step inside it will be accursed in the
+  sight of God."<br>
+  <br>
+  Never, never will I live through another moment like to that, nor
+  see the power of the Unseen rule things that are seen with such
+  unbreakable strength.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Mexicans dropped to their knees in humble prayer, and
+  Ferdinand Ramero seemed turned to a man of stone. A hand was
+  gently laid upon my arm and Jondo and Rex Krane stood beside us.
+  A voice far off was sounding in my ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go back to your homes and meet me at the church to-morrow night.
+  You, Ferdinand Ramero, go now to the chapel yonder and wait until
+  I come."<br>
+  <br>
+  What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="XVI" id="XVI">XVI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  FINISHING TOUCHES</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  "<i>Yet there be certain times in a young man's life when through
+  great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away
+  so that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of
+  manhood.</i>"<br>
+
+  --KIPLING.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San
+  Christobal Valley, and there was not a single cloud in the June
+  skies to throw a softening shadow on the yellow plain. A little
+  group of Mexicans, riding northward with sullen faces, urged on
+  their jaded ponies viciously as they thought of the gold that was
+  to have been paid them for this morning's work, and of the gold
+  that to-morrow night must go to pay the priest who should shrive
+  them; and they had nothing gained wherewith to pay. Their leader,
+  whom they had served, had been trapped in his own game, and they
+  felt themselves abused and deceived.<br>
+  <br>
+  Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the
+  door of the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group
+  coming slowly toward him: Ferdinand Ramero, riding like a
+  captured but unconquered king, his head erect, his flashing eyes
+  seeing nobody; Jondo who could make the shabbiest piece of
+  horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it, his tanned cheek
+  flushed, and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking out through
+  his dark-blue eyes; Eloise, drooping like a white flower, but
+  brave of spirit now, sure that her grief and anxiety would be
+  lifted somehow. I rode beside her, glad to catch the faint smile
+  in her eyes when she looked at me. And last of all, Rex Krane,
+  with the same old Yankee spirit, quick to help a fellow-man and
+  oblivious to personal danger. So we all came to the chapel, but
+  at the door Rex wheeled and rode away, muttering, as he passed
+  me:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've got business to look after, and not a darned thing to
+  confess."<br>
+  <br>
+  And Beverly! He was not with us.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Rex Krane told his bride good-by up in the Clarenden home on
+  the Missouri bluff, Mat had whispered one last request:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look after Bev. He never sees danger for himself, nor takes
+  anything seriously, least of all an enemy, whom he will befriend,
+  and make a joke of it."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so it happened that Rex had stayed behind to care for
+  Beverly's arrow wound when Bill Banney had gone out with Jondo on
+  the Kiowa trail to search for me this side of Pawnee Rock.<br>
+  <br>
+  So also it happened that Rex had strolled down from Fort Marcy
+  the night before, in time to see Beverly and the girl in the
+  Mexican dress loitering along the brown front of La Garita. And
+  his keen eyes had caught sight of Santan crouching in an angle of
+  the wall, watching them.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Indians and Mexes don't mix a lot. And Bev oughtn't mix with
+  either one," Rex commented. "I'll line the boy up for review
+  to-morrow, so Mat won't say I've neglected him."<br>
+  <br>
+  But the Yankee took the precaution to follow the trail to the
+  Indian's possible abiding-place on the outskirts of Santa
+  F&eacute;. And it was Rex who most aided Jondo in finding that
+  the Indian had gone with Ramero's men northward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That fellow is Santan, of Fort Bent, Rex," Jondo said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you thought he was <i>Santa</i> and I took him for
+  <i>Satan</i> then. We missed out on which to knock out of him.
+  Bev won't care nothin' about his name. He will knock hell out of
+  him if he gets in that Clarenden boy's way," Rex had replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the chapel door now the Yankee turned away and rode down the
+  trail toward the little angle where an Indian arrow had whizzed
+  at our party an hour before.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the shadow of a fallen mass of rock below the cliff Little
+  Blue Flower had spread her blanket, with Beverly's coat tucked
+  under it in a roll for a pillow, and now she sat beside the dying
+  nun, holding the crucifix to Sister Anita's lips. The Indian
+  girl's hands were blood-stained and the nun's black veil and gown
+  were disheveled, and her white head-dress and coif were soaked
+  with gore. But her white face was full of peace as the light
+  faded from her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Beverly! The boy forgot the rest of the world when one of the
+  Apache's arrows struck down the pony and the other pierced Sister
+  Anita's neck. Tenderly as a mother would lift a babe he quickly
+  carried the stricken woman to the shelter of the rock, and with
+  one glance at her he turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You can do all that she needs done for her. Give her her cross
+  to hold," he said, gently, to Little Blue Flower.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then he sprang up and dashed across the river, splashing the
+  bright waters as he leaped to the farther side where Santan stood
+  concealed, waiting for the return of Ramero's Mexicans.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the sound of Beverly's feet he leaped to the open just in time
+  to meet Beverly's fist square between the eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take that, you dirty dog, to shoot down an innocent nun. And
+  that!" Beverly followed his first blow with another.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Apache, who had reeled back with the weight of the boy's iron
+  fist, was too quick for the second thrust, struggling to get hold
+  of his arrows and his scalping-knife. But the space was too
+  narrow and Beverly was upon him with a shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I told you I'd make a sieve or you the next time you tried to
+  see me, and I'm going to do it."<br>
+  <br>
+  He seized the Indian's knife and flung it clear into the river,
+  where it stuck upright in the sands of the bed, parting the
+  little stream of water gurgling against it; and with a powerful
+  grip on the Apache's shoulders he wrenched the arrows from their
+  place and tramped on them with his heavy boot.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian's surprise and submission were gone in a flash, and
+  the two clinched in combat.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the one hand, jealousy, the inherited hatred of a mistreated
+  race, the savage instinct, a gloating joy in brute strife,
+  blood-lust, and a dogged will to trample in the dirt the man who
+  made the sun shine black for the Apache. On the other hand, a mad
+  rage, a sense of insult, a righteous greed for vengeance for a
+  cruel deed against an innocent woman, and all the superiority of
+  a dominant people. The one would conquer a powerful enemy, the
+  other would exterminate a despicable and dangerous pest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Back and forth across the narrow space hidden from the trail by
+  fallen rock they threshed like beasts of prey. The Apache had the
+  swiftness of the snake, his muscles were like steel springs, and
+  there was no rule of honorable warfare in his code. He bit and
+  clawed and pinched and scratched and choked and wrenched, with
+  the grim face and burning eyes of a murderer. But the Saxon
+  youth, slower of motion, heavier of bone and muscle, with a grip
+  like iron and a stony endurance, with pride in a conquest by
+  sheer clean skill, and with a purpose, not to take life, but to
+  humble and avenge, hammered back blow for blow; and there was
+  nothing for many minutes to show which was offensive and which
+  defensive.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the struggle raged on, the one grew more furious and the other
+  more self-confident.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I'll make you eat dust yet!" Beverly cried, as Santan in
+  triumph flung him backward and sprang upon his prostrate
+  form.<br>
+  <br>
+  They clinched again, and with a mighty surge of strength my
+  cousin lifted himself, and the Indian with him, and in the next
+  fall Beverly had his antagonist gripped and helpless.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can choke you out now as easy as you shot that arrow. Say your
+  prayers." He fairly growled out the words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't aim at her," the Apache half whined, half boasted. "I
+  wanted you."<br>
+  <br>
+  At that moment Beverly, spent, bruised, and bleeding with
+  fighting and surcharged with the lust of combat, felt all the
+  instinct of murder urging him on to utterly destroy a
+  poison-fanged foe to humanity. At Santan's words he paused and,
+  flinging back the hair from his forehead, he caught his breath
+  and his better self in the same heart-beat. And the instinct of
+  the gentleman--he was Esmond Clarenden's brother's son--held the
+  destroying hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aimed at me! Well, learn your lesson on that right now.
+  Promise never to play the fool that way again. Promise the
+  everlasting God's truth, or here you go."<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy's clutch tightened on Santan's throat. "By all that's
+  holy, you'll go to your happy hunting-ground <i>right now, unless
+  you do</i>!" He growled out the words, and his blazing eyes
+  glared threateningly at his fallen enemy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I promise!" Santan muttered, gasping for breath.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You didn't mean to kill the nun? Then you'll go with me and ask
+  her to forgive you before she dies. You will. You needn't try to
+  get away from me. I let you thrash your strength out before we
+  came to this settlement. Be still!" Beverly commanded, as Santan
+  made a mad effort to release himself.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Hurry up, and remember she is dying. Go softly and speak gently,
+  or by the God of heaven, you'll go with her to the Judgment Seat
+  to answer for that deed right now!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Slowly the two rose. Their clothes were torn, their hair
+  disheveled, the ground at their feet was red with their blood.
+  They were as bitter, as distrustful now as when their struggle
+  began. For brute force never conquers anything. It can only hold
+  in check by fear of its power to destroy the body. Above the iron
+  fist of the fighter, and the sword and cannon of the soldier,
+  stands the risen Christ who carried his own cross up Mount
+  Calvary--and "there they crucified him."<br>
+  <br>
+  The two young men, spent with their struggle, their faces stained
+  with dirt and bloody sweat, crossed the river and sought the
+  shadowy place where Little Blue Flower sat beside Sister Anita.
+  Twice Santan tried to escape, and twice Beverly brought him
+  quickly to his place. It must have been here that I caught sight
+  of them from the rock above.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more move like that and the ghost of Sister Anita will walk
+  behind you on every trail you follow as long as your flat feet
+  hit the earth," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All Indians are afraid of ghosts and I was just too tired to
+  fight any more," he said to me afterward when he told me the
+  story of that hour by the San Christobal River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita lay with wide-open eyes, her hands moving feebly as
+  she clutched at her crucifix. Her hour was almost spent.<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan stood motionless before her, as Beverly with a grip on his
+  arm said, firmly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell her you did not aim at her, and ask her to forgive you. It
+  will help to save your own soul sometime, maybe."<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan looked at Little Blue Flower. But she gave no heed to him
+  as she put the dropped crucifix into the weakening fingers.
+  Murder, as such, is as horrifying to the gentle Hopi tribe as it
+  is sport for the cruel Apache.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly loosed his hold now.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I did not want to hurt you. Forgive me!" Santan said, slowly, as
+  though each word were plucked from him by red-hot pincers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita heard and turned her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Kneel down and tell her again," Beverly said, more gently.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Apache dropped on his knees beside the dying woman and
+  repeated his words. Sister Anita smiled sweetly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Heaven will forgive you even as I do," she murmured, and closed
+  her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go softly. This is sacred ground," my cousin said.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian rose and passed silently down the trail, leaving
+  Little Blue Flower and Beverly Clarenden together with the dead.
+  At the stream he paused and pulled his knife from the sands
+  beneath the trickling waters, and then went on his way.<br>
+  <br>
+  But an Indian never forgets.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane, who had hurried hither from the chapel, closed the
+  eyes and folded the thin hands of the martyred woman, and sent
+  Beverly forward for help to dispose of the garment of clay that
+  had been Sister Anita. From that day something manly and serious
+  came into Beverly Clarenden's face to stay, but his sense of
+  humor and his fearlessness were unchanged.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a solemn hour in the shadow of the rock down in that
+  yellow valley, but beautiful in its forgiving triumph. We who had
+  gathered in the dimly lighted chapel had an hour more solemn for
+  that it was made up of such dramatic minutes as change the trend
+  of life-trails for all the years to come.<br>
+  <br>
+  The chapel was very old. They tell me that only a broken portion
+  of the circular wall about the altar stands there to-day, a
+  lonely monument to some holy padre's faith and courage and
+  sacrifice in the forgotten years when, in far Hesperia, men
+  dreamed of a Quivera and found only a Calvary.<br>
+  <br>
+  It may be that I, Gail Clarenden, was also changed as I listened
+  to the deliberations of that day; that something of youth gave
+  place for the stronger manhood that should stay me through the
+  years that came after.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come
+  back to it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and
+  rough climb among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled
+  carelessly on her white brow and rippled about her shapely head.
+  I used to wonder what setting fitted her beauty best--why wonder
+  that about any beautiful woman?--but the gracious loveliness of
+  this woman was never more appealing to me than in the soft light
+  and sacred atmosphere of the church.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water
+  and coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we
+  came in to his presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a
+  child I tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a
+  woman, you must still be protected, but you must live your own
+  life and choose for yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be
+  crushed by it. You must take up your cross and bear it. It is for
+  this that I have called you back to New Mexico at this time. But
+  remember, my daughter, that life is not given to us for defeat,
+  but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles; not for idle
+  cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."<br>
+  <br>
+  I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years
+  were full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had
+  brought him to the priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of
+  Father Josef's voice, somehow, to me, he stood for success, not
+  failure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise bowed her head and listened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own
+  heritage, nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has
+  been offered a bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies
+  no altars nor extends the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ.
+  Your property is your own to use for the holy purposes of a
+  goodly life wherever your days may lead you; and whatever the
+  civil law may grant of power to control it for you, you shall no
+  longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that it shall
+  henceforth be yours."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to
+  Ferdinand Ramero.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this
+  estate, whose revenue made your father and yourself to be
+  accounted rich, and upon which your son has been allowed to build
+  up a life expectation; and though on account of it, you go forth
+  a poor man in wordly goods, you may go out rich in the blessing
+  of restoration and repentance."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero's steel eyes were fixed like the eyes of a snake
+  on the holy man's face. Restoration and repentance do not belong
+  behind eyes like that.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can fight you in the courts. You and your Church may go to the
+  devil;" he seemed to hiss rather than to speak these words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We do go to him every day to bring back souls like yours,"
+  Father Josef's voice was calm. "I have waited a long time for you
+  to repent. You can go to the courts, but you will not do it. For
+  the sake of your wife, Gloria Ramero, and Felix Narveo, her
+  brother, we do not move against you, and you dare not move for
+  yourself, because your own record will not bear the light of
+  legal investigation."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero sprang up, the blaze of passion, uncontrolled
+  through all his years, bursting forth in the tragedy of the hour.
+  Eloise was right. In his anger he was a maniac.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You dare to threaten me! You pen me in a corner to stab me to
+  death! You hold disgrace and miserable poverty over my head, and
+  cant of restoration and repentance! Not until here you name each
+  thing that you count against me, and I have met them point by
+  point, will I restore. I never will repent!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In the vehemence of anger, Ramero was the embodiment of the
+  dramatic force of unrestraint, and withal he was handsome, with a
+  controlling magnetism even in his hour of downfall.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had said that Father Josef had somewhere back a strain of
+  Indian blood in his veins. It must have been this that gave the
+  fiber of self control to his countenance as he looked with
+  pitying eyes at Jondo and Eloise St. Vrain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The hour is struck," he said, sadly. "And you shall hear your
+  record, point by point, because you ask it now. First: you have
+  retained, controlled, misused, and at last embezzled the fortune
+  of Theron St. Vrain, as it was retained, controlled, misused, and
+  embezzled by your father, Henry Ramer, in his lifetime. Any case
+  in civil courts must show how the heritage of Eloise St. Vrain,
+  heir to Theron St. Vrain at the death of her mother--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not until the death of her mother--" Ferdinand Ramero broke in,
+  hoarsely.<br>
+  <br>
+  For the first time to-day the priest's cheek paled, but his voice
+  was unbroken as he continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I would have been kinder for your own sake. You desire
+  otherwise. Yes, only after the death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain
+  could you dictate concerning her daughter's affairs, with most
+  questionable legality even then. Mary Marchland St. Vrain is not
+  dead."<br>
+  <br>
+  The chapel was as silent as the grave. My heart stood still.
+  Before me was Jondo, big, strong, self-controlled, inured to the
+  tragic deeds of the epic years of the West. No pen of mine will
+  ever make the picture of Jondo's face at these words of Father
+  Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise turned deathly pale, and her dark eyes opened wide, seeing
+  nothing. It was not I who comforted her, but Jondo, who put his
+  strong arm about her, and she leaned against his shoulder. Father
+  and daughter in spirit, stricken to the heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  "For many years she has lived in that lonely ranch-house on the
+  Narveo grant in the little ca&ntilde;on up the San Christobal
+  Arroyo. When the fever left her with memory darkened forever, you
+  recorded her as dead. But your wife, Gloria Ramero, spared no
+  pains to make her comfortable. She has never known a want, nor
+  lived through one unhappy hour, because she has forgotten."<br>
+  <br>
+  "A priest, confessor for men's inmost souls, who babbles all he
+  knows! I wonder that this roof does not fall on you and strike
+  you dead before this altar." Ferdinand Ramero's voice rose to a
+  shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was too strongly built by one who knew men's inmost souls,
+  and what they needed most," Father Josef replied. "You drove me
+  to this by your insistence. I would have shielded you--and
+  these."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned to Eloise and Jondo as he spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more point, since you hold it ready to spring when I am
+  through. You stand accused of plotting for your father's murder.
+  The evidence still holds, and some men who rode with you to-day
+  to seize this gentle girl and drag her back to a marriage with
+  your son--and save your ill-gotten gold thereby--some of these
+  men who will confess to me and do penance to-morrow night, are
+  the same men who long ago confessed to other crimes--you can
+  guess what they were.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It pays well to repent before such a holy tattler as yourself."
+  Ramero's blue eyes burned deep as their fire was centered on the
+  priest.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These are the counts against you," Father Josef said in review,
+  ignoring the last outburst of wrath. "A life of ease and
+  inheritance through money not your own, nor even rightly yours to
+  control. A stricken woman listed with the dead, whose memory
+  might have come again--God knows--if but the loving touch of
+  childish hands had long ago been on her hands. It is years too
+  late for all that now. A brave young ward rescued from your
+  direct control by Esmond Clarenden's force of will and daring to
+  do the right. You know that last pleading cry of Mary
+  Marchland's, for Jondo to protect her child, and how Clarenden,
+  for love of this brave man, came to New Mexico on perilous trails
+  to take the little Eloise from you. And lastly in this matter,
+  the threats to force a marriage unholy in God's sight, because no
+  love could go with it. Your mad chase and villainous intention to
+  use brute force to secure your will out yonder on the rocks above
+  the cliff. You have debauched an Apache boy, making him your tool
+  and spy. You sanctioned the seizing of a Hopi girl whose parents
+  you permitted to be murdered, and their child sold into slavery
+  among foreign tribes. You have stirred up and kept alive a feud
+  of hatred and revenge among the Kiowa people against the life and
+  property of Esmond Clarenden and all who belong to him. And,
+  added to all these, you stand to-day a patricide in spirit,
+  accused of plotting for the murder of your own father. Do not
+  these things call for restoration and repentance?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero rose to his feet and stood in the aisle near the
+  door. His face hardened, and all the suave polish and cool
+  concentration and dominant magnetism fell away. What remained was
+  the man as shaped by the ruling passions of years, from whose
+  control only divine power could bring deliverance. And when he
+  spoke there was a remorseless cruelty and selfishness in his low,
+  even tones.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have called me a plotter for my father's life--based on some
+  lying Mexican's love of blackmail. You do not even try to prove
+  your charge. The man who would have killed him was Theron St.
+  Vrain, and his brother, Bertrand. That Theron was disgraced by
+  the fact you know very well, and the blackness of it drove him to
+  an early grave. So this young lady here, whom I would have
+  shielded from this stain upon her name in the marriage to my son,
+  may know the truth about her father. He was what you, Father
+  Josef, try to prove me to be."<br>
+  <br>
+  He paused as if to gather venom for his last shaft.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These two, Theron and Bertrand, were equally guilty, but through
+  tricks of their own, Theron escaped and Bertrand took the whole
+  crime on himself. He disappeared and paid the penalty by his
+  death. His body was recovered from the river and placed in an
+  unmarked grave. Why go back to that now? Because Bertrand St.
+  Vrain's clothes alone on some poor drowned unknown man were
+  buried. Bertrand himself sits here beside his niece, Eloise St.
+  Vrain. John Doe to the world, the man who lives without a name,
+  and dares not sign a business document, a walking dead man. I
+  could even pity him if he were real. But who can pity
+  nothing?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A look of defiance came into the man's glittering eyes as he took
+  one step nearer to the door and continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Esmond Clarenden drove me out of the United States with threats
+  of implicating me in the death of my father, and I knew his power
+  and brutal daring to do anything he chose to do. It was but his
+  wish to have revenge for this nameless thing--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The scorn of Ramero's eyes and voice as he looked at Jondo were
+  withering.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And this thing keeps me here by threats of attacks, even when he
+  knows that by such attacks he will reveal himself. It has been a
+  grim game." Something of a grin showed all of the man's fine
+  teeth. "A grim game, and never played to a finish till now. I
+  leave it to you, Father Josef, to judge who has been the stronger
+  and who comes out of it victor. I make restoration--of what? I
+  leave the St. Vrain money that I have guarded for Eloise, the
+  daughter of the man who killed, or helped to kill, my father. You
+  can control it now, among you: Clarenden, already rich; your
+  Church, notorious in its robbery of the poor by enriching its
+  coffers; or this uncle here, who is dead and buried in an unknown
+  grave. That is all the restoration I can make. Repentance, I do
+  not know what that word means. Keep it for the poor devils you
+  will gather in to-morrow night to be shriven. They need it. I do
+  not."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned and strode out of the church and, mounting his horse,
+  rode like a madman up the yellow valley of the San Christobal. In
+  after years I could find no term to so well describe that last
+  act as the words of Beverly Clarenden, who came to the chapel
+  just in time to hear Ferdinand Ramero's closing declaration, and
+  to see his black scowl and scornful air, as, in a royal madness,
+  he defied the power of man and denounced the all-pitying love
+  that is big enough for the most sinful.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was Paradise lost," Beverly declared, "and Satan falling
+  clear to hell before the Archangel's flaming sword. Only he went
+  east and the real Satan dropped down to his place. But they will
+  meet up somewhere, Ramero and the real one, and not be able to
+  tell each other apart."<br>
+  <br>
+  And Jondo. My boyhood idol, brave, gentle, unselfish, able
+  everywhere! Jondo, who had kept my toddling feet from stumbling,
+  who had taught me to ride and swim and shoot, who had made me
+  wise in plains lore, and manly and clean among the rough and
+  vulgar things of the Missouri frontier. Jondo, whose big, cool
+  hand had touched my feverish face, whose deep blue eyes had
+  looked love into my eyes when I lay dying on Pawnee Rock! A man
+  without a name! A murderer who had by a trick escaped the law,
+  and must walk evermore unknown among his fellow-men! Something
+  went out of my life as I looked at him. The boy in me was burned
+  and seared away, and only the man-to-be, was left.<br>
+  <br>
+  He offered no word of defense from the accusation against him,
+  nor made a plea of innocence, but sat looking straight at Father
+  Josef, who looked at him as if expecting nothing. And as they
+  gazed into each other's eyes, a something strong and beautiful
+  swept the face of each. I could not understand it, and I was
+  young. My lifetime hero had turned to nothingness before my eyes.
+  The world was full of evil. I hated it and all that in it was, my
+  trusting, foolish, short-sighted self most of all.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Eloise--the heart of woman is past understanding--Eloise
+  turned to the man beside her and, putting both arms around his
+  neck, she pressed one fair cheek against his brown bearded one,
+  and kissed him gently on the forehead. Then turning to Father
+  Josef, no longer the dependent, clinging maiden, but the loving
+  woman, strong and sure of will, she said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I must go to my mother. So long as she lives I will never leave
+  her again."<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not even look at me, nor speak a word of farewell, as if
+  I were the murderer instead of that man, Jondo, whom she had
+  kissed.<br>
+  <br>
+  I saw her ride away, with Little Blue Flower beside her. I saw
+  the green mesa, the red cliffs above the growing things, the
+  glitter of the San Christobal water on yellow sands, the level
+  plain where the narrow white trail crept far away toward Gloria
+  Narveo's lonely ranch-house, strong as a fort built a hundred
+  years ago, in a little ca&ntilde;on of the valley. I saw a young,
+  graceful figure on horseback, and the glint of sunlight on golden
+  hair. But the rider did not turn her head and I could not get one
+  glance of those beautiful dark eyes. A great mass of rock hid the
+  line of the trail, and the two, Eloise and Little Blue Flower,
+  rounded the angle and rode on out of my sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  I helped to dig open the curly mesquite and to shovel out the
+  sand. I heard the burial service, and saw a rudely coffined form
+  lowered into an open grave. I saw Rex Krane at the head, and
+  Jondo at the foot, and Beverly's bleeding hands as he scraped the
+  loose earth back and heaped it over that which had been called
+  Sister Anita; I heard Father Josef's voice of music repeating the
+  "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." And then we turned away and
+  left the spot, as men turn every day to the common affairs of
+  life.<br>
+  <br>
+  Four days later Little Blue Flower came to me as I, still numb
+  and cold and blankly unthinking, sat beside Fort Marcy and looked
+  out with unseeing eyes at the glory of a New-Mexican sunset.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come from Eloise." The sadness of her face and voice even the
+  Indian's self-control could not conceal.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She is sad, but brave, and her mother loves her and calls her
+  'Little One.' She will never grow up to her mother. But"--Little
+  Blue Flower's voice faltered and she gazed out at the far Sandia
+  peaks wrapped in the rich purple folds of twilight, with the
+  scarlet of the afterglow beyond them--"Eloise loves Beverly. She
+  will always love him. Heaven meant him for her." There were some
+  other broken sentences, but I did not grasp them clearly
+  then.<br>
+  <br>
+  The world was full of gray shadows. The finishing touches had
+  been put on life for me. I looked out at the dying glow in the
+  west, and wondered vaguely if the sun would ever cross the
+  Gloriettas again, or ever the Sangre-de-Christo grow radiant with
+  the scarlet stain of that ineffable beauty that uplifts and
+  purifies the soul of him who looks on it. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII">XVII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  SWEET AND BITTER WATERS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Trust me, it is something to be cast<br>
+  Face to face with one's self at last,<br>
+  To be taken out of the fuss and strife,<br>
+  The endless clatter of plate and knife,<br>
+  The bore of books, and the bores of the street,<br>
+  And to be set down on one's own two feet<br>
+      So nigh to the great warm heart of God,<br>
+  You almost seem to feel it beat<br>
+      Down from the sunshine, and up from the sod.<br>
+                              JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  My hair is very white now, and my fingers hold a pen more easily
+  than they could hold the ox-goad or the rifle, and mine to-day is
+  all the backward look. Which look is evermore a satisfying thing
+  because it takes in all of life behind in its true proportion,
+  where the forward look of youth sees only what comes next and
+  nothing more. And looking back to-day it seems that, of the many
+  times I walked the long miles of that old Santa Fe Trail, no
+  journey over it stands out quite so clear-cut in my memory as the
+  home trip after I had watched the going away of Eloise, and
+  witnessed the flight of Ferdinand Ramero, and listened to the
+  story of Jondo's life.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Little Blue Flower left me sitting beside Fort Marcy's wall
+  my mind went back in swift review over the flight of days since
+  Beverly Clarenden and I had come from Cincinnati. I recalled the
+  first meeting of Eloise with my cousin. How easily they had
+  renewed acquaintance. I had been surprised and embarrassed and
+  awkward when I found her and Little Blue Flower down by the Flat
+  Rock below St. Ann's, in the Moon of the Peach Blossom. I
+  remembered how I had monopolized all of her time in the days that
+  followed, leaving good-natured Bev to look after the little
+  Indian girl who never really seemed like an Indian to him. And
+  keen-piercing as an arrow came now the memory of that midnight
+  hour when I had seen the two in the little side porch of the
+  Clarenden home, and again I heard the sorrowful words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Beverly, it breaks my heart."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise had just seen Beverly kiss Little Blue Flower in the
+  shadows of the porch. And all the while, good-hearted, generous
+  boy that he was, he had never tried to push his suit with her,
+  had made her love him more, no doubt, by letting me have full
+  command of all of her time, while he forgot himself in showing
+  courtesy to the Indian girl, because Bev was first of all a
+  gentleman. I thought of that dear hour in the church of San
+  Miguel. Of course, Eloise was glad to find me there--poor,
+  hunted, frightened child! She would have been as glad, no doubt,
+  to have found big Bill Banney or Rex Krane, and I had thought her
+  eyes held something just for me that night. She had not seen
+  Beverly at the chapel beside the San Christobal River, and to me
+  she had not given even a parting glance when she went away. If
+  she had cared for me at all she would not have left me so. And I
+  had climbed the tortuous trail with her and stood beside her in
+  the zone of sanctuary safety that Father Josef had thrown about
+  us two.<br>
+  <br>
+  These things were clear enough to me, but when I tried to think
+  again of all that Little Blue Flower had said an hour ago my mind
+  went numb:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Her mother knew her, but only as the little Eloise long lost and
+  never missed till now. The mother, too, was very beautiful, and
+  young in face, and child-like in her helplessness. The lonely
+  ranch-house, old, and strong as a fort, girt round by tall
+  ca&ntilde;on walls, nestled in a grassy open place; and not a
+  comfort had been denied the woman there. For Gloria Ramero,
+  Ferdinand's wife, had governed that. And Eloise had entered there
+  to stay. This much was clear enough. But that which followed
+  seemed to twist and writhe about in my mind with only one thing
+  sure--Eloise loved Beverly, would always love him. And he could
+  not love any one else. He could be kind to any girl, but he would
+  not be happy. Some day when he was older--a real man--then he
+  would long for the girl of his heart and his own choice, and he
+  would find her and love her, too, and she would love him and
+  those who stood between them they both would hate. And Eloise
+  loved Beverly. She could not send Gail any words herself, but he
+  would understand."<br>
+  <br>
+  So came the Indian girl's interpretation of the case, but the
+  conclusion was the message meant for me. I wondered vaguely, as I
+  sat there, if the vision had come to Beverly years ago as it had
+  come to me: three men--the soldier on his cavalry mount, Jondo,
+  the plainsman, on his big black horse, and between the two,
+  Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor on foot, but going forward
+  somehow, steady and sure. And beyond these three, this side of
+  misty mountain peaks, the cloud of golden hair, the sweet face,
+  with dark eyes looking into mine. I had not been a dreamer, I had
+  been a fool.<br>
+  <br>
+  Through Beverly I learned the next day that Ferdinand Ramero had
+  come into Santa F&eacute; late at night and had left early the
+  next morning. Marcos Ramero, faultlessly dressed, lounged about
+  the gambling-halls, and strolled through the sunny Plaza, idly
+  and insolently, as was his custom. But Gloria Ramero, to whom
+  Marcos long ago ceased to be more than coldly courteous, had left
+  the city at once for the San Christobal Valley, to devote herself
+  to the care of the beautiful woman whom her brother Felix Narveo
+  in his college days had admired so much.<br>
+  <br>
+  As for Jondo, years ago when we had met Father Josef out by the
+  sandy arroyo, he had left us to follow the good man somewhere,
+  and had not come back to the Exchange Hotel until nightfall.
+  Something had come into his face that day that never left it
+  again. And now that something had deepened in the glance of his
+  eye and the firm-set mouth. It was through that meeting with
+  Father Josef that he had first heard of the supposed death of
+  Mary Marchland St. Vrain, and it was through the priest in the
+  chapel he had heard that she was still alive.<br>
+  <br>
+  Neither Beverly nor Bill Banney nor Rex Krane knew what I had
+  heard in the church concerning Jondo's early career, and I never
+  spoke of it to them. But to all of us, outside of that
+  intensified something indefinable in his face, he was unchanged.
+  He met my eye with the open, frank glance with which he met the
+  gaze of all men. His smile was no less engaging and his manner
+  remained the same--fearless, unsuspicious, definite in serious
+  affairs, good-natured and companionable in everything. I could
+  not read him now, by one little line, but back of everything lay
+  that withering, grievous thought--he was a murderer. Heaven pity
+  the boy when his idol falls, and if he be a dreaming idealist the
+  hurt is tenfold deeper.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet--the trail was waiting there to teach me many things, and
+  Jondo's words rang through the aisles of my brain:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the open
+  plains and the green prairies, and the danger stimulus of the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften
+  your hard, rebellious heart, and make you see things big, and
+  despise the little crooks in your path."<br>
+  <br>
+  Our Conestoga wagons, with their mule-teams, and the few ponies
+  for scout service, followed the old trail out of the valley of
+  the Rio Grande to the tablelands eastward, up the steep sidling
+  way into the passes of the Glorietta Mountains, down through
+  lone, wind-swept ca&ntilde;ons, and on between wild, scarred
+  hills, coming, at last, beyond the picturesque ridges,
+  snow-crowned and mesa-guarded, into the long, gray, waterless
+  lands of the Cimmarron country. Here we journeyed along
+  monotonous levels that rose and fell unnoted because of lack of
+  landmarks to measure by, only the broad, beaten Santa F&eacute;
+  Trail stretched on unbending, unchanging, uneffaceable.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the distance from spring to spring decreased, every drop of
+  water grew precious, and we pushed on, eager to reach the richer
+  prairies of the Arkansas Valley. Suddenly in the monotony of the
+  way, and the increasing calls of thirst, there came a sense of
+  danger, the plains-old danger of the Comanche on the Cimarron
+  Trail. Bill Banney caught it first--just a faint sign of one
+  hostile track. All the next day Jondo scouted far, coming into
+  camp at nightfall with a grave report.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The water-supply is failing," he told us, "and there is
+  something wrong out there. The Comanches are hovering near,
+  that's certain, and there is a single trail that doesn't look
+  Comanche to me that I can't account for. All we can do is to
+  'hold fast,'" he added, with his cheery smile that never failed
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night I could not sleep, and the stars and I stared long at
+  each other. They were so golden and so far away. And one, as I
+  looked, slipped from its place and trailed wide across the sky
+  until it vanished, leaving a stream of golden light that lingered
+  before my eyes. I thought of the trail in the San Christobal
+  Valley, and again I saw the sunlight on golden hair as Eloise
+  with Little Blue Flower passed out of sight around the shoulder
+  of a great rock beside the way. At last came sleep, and in my
+  dreams Eloise was beside me as she had been in the church of San
+  Miguel, her dark eyes looking up into mine. I knew, in my dream,
+  that I was dreaming and I did not want to waken. For, "Eloise
+  loved Beverly, would always love him." Little Blue Flower had
+  said it. The face was far away, this side of misty mountain
+  peaks, and farther still. I could see only the eyes looking at
+  me. I wakened to see only the stars looking at me. I slept again
+  deeply and dreamlessly, and wakened suddenly. We were far and
+  away from the Apache country, but there, for just one instant, a
+  face came close to mine--the face of Santan--the Apache. It
+  vanished instantly as it had come. The night guard passed by me
+  and crossed the camp. The stars held firm above me. I had had
+  another dream. But after that I did not sleep till dawn.<br>
+  <br>
+  The day was very hot, with the scorching breeze of the plains
+  that sears the very eyeballs dry. Through the dust and glare we
+  pressed on over long, white, monotonous miles. Hovering near us
+  somewhere were the Comanches--waiting; with us was burning
+  thirst; ahead of us ran the taunting mirage--cool, sparkling
+  water rippling between green banks--receding as we approached,
+  maddening us by the suggestion of its refreshing picture, the
+  while we knew it was only a picture. For it is Satan's own
+  painting on the desert to let men know that Dante's dream is mild
+  compared to the real art of torment. Men and animals began to
+  give way under the day's burden, and we moved slowly. In times
+  like these Jondo stayed with the train, sending Bill Banney and
+  Beverly scouting ahead. That was the longest day that I ever
+  lived on the Santa F&eacute; Trail, although I followed its miles
+  many times in the best of its freighting years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The weary hours dragged at last toward evening, and a dozen signs
+  in plains lore told us that water must be near. As we topped a
+  low swell at the bottom of whose long slide lay the little oasis
+  we were seeking, we came upon Bill Banney's pony lying dead
+  across the trail. And near it Bill himself, with bloated face and
+  bleared eyes, muttering half-coherently:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Water-hole! Poison! Don't drink!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And then he babbled of the muddy Missouri, and the Kentucky blue
+  grass, and cold mountain springs in the passes of the Gloriettas,
+  warning us thickly of "death down there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Down there," beside the little spring shelved in by shale at the
+  lower edge of the swell, we found a tiny cairn built of clumps of
+  sod and bits of shale. Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's
+  note-book with the words </p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very
+  far on.--BILL.</p>
+
+  <p>So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach
+  us. But for fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning
+  and left it here. Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round
+  the place and threshed the ground in agony when he tried to mount
+  his poisoned pony, and his first thought was for us. The plains
+  made men see big. Jondo had told me they could do it. Poor Bill,
+  moaning for water now and tossing in agony in Jondo's wagon! The
+  Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we hated them as
+  we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had
+  a mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching
+  glance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope.
+  Come, Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch
+  of coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided
+  draw across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face
+  downward beside a dead pony. We scrambled down, shattering the
+  dry earth after us as we went. Jondo gently lifted the body and
+  turned it face upward. It was Ferdinand Ramero.<br>
+  <br>
+  The big plainsman did not cry out, nor drop his hold, but his
+  face turned gray, and only the dying man saw the look in the blue
+  eyes gazing into his. Ramero tried to draw away, fear, and hate,
+  and the old dominant will that ruled his life, strong still in
+  death. As he lay at the feet of the man whose life hopes he had
+  blasted, he expected no mercy and asked for none.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have me at last. I didn't put the poison in that spring. I
+  would not have drunk it if I had. It was the one below I fixed
+  for you. And I'm in your power now. Be quick about it."<br>
+  <br>
+  For one long minute Jondo looked down at his enemy. Then he
+  lifted his eyes to mine with the victory of "him that overcometh"
+  shining in their blue depths.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If I could make you live, I'd do it, Fred. If you have any word
+  to say, be quick about it now. Your time is short."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sweetness of that gentle voice I hear sometimes to-day in the
+  low notes of song-birds, and the gentle swish of refreshing
+  summer showers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero lifted his cold blue eyes and looked at the man
+  bending over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Leave me here--forgotten--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not of God. His Mercy endureth forever," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  But there was no repentance, no softening of the hard, imperious
+  heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  We left him there, pulling down the loose earth from the steep
+  sides of the draw to cover him from all the frowning elements of
+  the plains. And when we went back to the waiting train Jondo
+  reported, grimly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "<i>No enemy in sight</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid Bill Banney beside the poisoned spring, from whose bitter
+  waters he had saved our lives. So martyrs filled the unknown
+  graves that made the milestones of the way in the days of
+  commerce-building on the old Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next spring was not far ahead, as Bill's note had said, but
+  the stars were thick above us and the desolate land was full of
+  shadows before we reached it--a thirst-mad, heart-sore crowd
+  trailing slowly on through the gloom of the night.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly was waiting for us and the refreshing moisture of the air
+  above a spring seemed about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought you'd never come. Where's Bill? There's water here. I
+  made the spring myself," he shouted, as we came near.<br>
+  <br>
+  The spring that he had digged for us was in the sandy bed of a
+  dry stream, with low, earth-banks on either side. It was full of
+  water, hardly clear, but plentiful, and slowly washing out a
+  bigger pool for itself as it seeped forth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is poison in the real spring down there." Beverly pointed
+  toward the diminished fountain we had expected to find. "I've
+  worked since noon at this."<br>
+  <br>
+  We drank, and life came back to us. We pitched camp, and then
+  listened to Beverly's story of the sweet and bitter waters of the
+  trail that day. And all the while it seemed as if Bill Banney was
+  just out of sight and might come galloping in at any moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You know what happened up the trail," my cousin said, sadly.
+  "Bill was ahead of me and he drank first, and galloped back to
+  warn me and beg me to come on for water. I thought I could get
+  down here and take some water back to Bill in time. It's all
+  shale up there. No place to dig above, nor below, even if one
+  dared to dig below that poison. But I found a dead coyote that
+  had just left here, and all springs began to look Comanche to me.
+  I lariated my pony and crept down under the bank there to think
+  and rest. Everything went poison-spotted before my eyes."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where's your pony now, Bev?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know sure, but I expect he is about going over the Raton
+  Pass by this time," Beverly replied. "Down there things seemed to
+  swim around me like water everywhere and I knew I'd got to stir.
+  Just then an Indian came slipping up from somewhere to the spring
+  to drink. He didn't look right to me at all, but I couldn't sit
+  still and see him kill himself. If he needed killing I could have
+  done it for him, for he never saw me. Just as he stooped I saw
+  his face. It was that Apache--Santan--the wander-foot, for I
+  never heard of an Apache getting so far from the mountains. I
+  ought to have kept still, Jondo"--Beverly's ready smile came to
+  his face--"but I'd made that fellow swear he'd let me eternally
+  alone when we had our little fracas up by the San Christobal
+  Arroyo, so something like conscience, mean as the stomach-ache,
+  made me call out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Don't drink there; it's poison.'<br>
+  <br>
+  "He stopped and stared at me a minute, or ten minutes--I didn't
+  count time on him--and then he said, slow-like:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'It's the spring west that is poisoned. I put it there for you.
+  You will not see your men again. They will drink and die. Who put
+  this poison here?'<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Lord knows. I didn't,' I told him. 'Two of you carrying poison
+  are two too many for the Cimarron country.'<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I hadn't any more conscience after that, but I was faint and
+  slow, and my aim was bad for eels. He could have fixed me right
+  then, but for some reason he didn't."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face grew sad.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He made six jumps six ways, and caught my pony's lariat. I can
+  hear his yell still as he tore a hole in the horizon and jumped
+  right through. Then I began on that spring. 'Dig or die. Dig or
+  die.' I said over and over, and we are all here but Bill. I wish
+  I'd got that Apache, though."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and I looked at each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The thing is clear now," he said, aside to me. "That single
+  trail I found back yonder day before yesterday was Santan's
+  running on ahead of us to poison the water for us and then steal
+  a horse and make his way back to the mountains. An Apache can
+  live on this cactus-covered sand the same as a rattlesnake. He
+  fixed the upper spring and came down here to drink. Only
+  Beverly's conscience saved him here. Heaven knows how Fred Ramer
+  got out here. He may have come with some Mexicans on ahead of us
+  and left them here to drop his poison in this lower spring. Then
+  he turned back toward Santa F&eacute; and found his doom up there
+  at Santan's spring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm like Bev. I wish he had gotten the Apache, now. I don't know
+  yet how I was fooled in him, for he has always been Fred Ramer's
+  tool, and Father Josef never trusted him. And to think that Bill
+  Banney, in no way touching any of our lives, should have been
+  martyred by the crimes of Fred and this Apache! But that's the
+  old, old story of the trail. Poor Bill! I hope his sleep will be
+  sweet out in this desolate land. We'll meet him later
+  somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  The winds must have carried the tale of poisoned water across the
+  Cimarron country, for the Comanches' trail left ours from that
+  day. Through threescore and ten miles to the Arkansas River we
+  came, and there was not a well nor spring nor sign of water in
+  all that distance. What water we had we carried with us from the
+  Cimarron fountains. But the sturdy endurance of the days was not
+  without its help to me. And the wide, wind-swept prairies of
+  Kansas taught me many things. In the lonely, beautiful land,
+  through long bright days and starlit nights, I began to see
+  things bigger than my own selfish measure had reckoned. I thought
+  of Esmond Clarenden and his large scheme of business; Felix
+  Narveo, the true-hearted friend; and of Father Josef and his life
+  of devotion. And I lived with Jondo every day. I could not forget
+  the hour in the little ruined chapel in the San Christobal
+  Valley, and how he himself had made no effort to clear his own
+  name. But I remembered, too, that Father Josef, mercilessly just
+  to Ferdinand Ramero, had not even asked Jondo to defend himself
+  from the black charge against him.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sunny Kansas prairies, the far open plains, and the wild
+  mountain trails beyond, had brought their blessing to Jondo,
+  whose life had known so much of tragedy. And my cross was just my
+  love for a girl who could not love me. That was all. Jondo had
+  never forgotten nor ceased to love the mother of Eloise St.
+  Vrain. I should be like Jondo in this. But the world is wide.
+  Life is full of big things. Henceforth, while I would not forget,
+  I, too, would be big and strong, and maybe, some time, just as
+  sunny-faced as my big Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  The trail life, day by day, did bring its blessing to me. The
+  clear, open land, the far-sweeping winds, the solitude for
+  thought, the bravery and gentleness of the rough men who walked
+  the miles with me, the splendor of the day-dawn, the beauty of
+  the sunset, the peace of the still starlit night, sealed up my
+  wounds, and I began to live for others and to forget myself; to
+  dream less often, and to work more gladly; to measure men, not by
+  what had been, but by how they met what was to be done.<br>
+  <br>
+  From all the frontier life, rough-hewn and coarse, the elements
+  came that helped to make the big brave West to-day, and I know
+  now that not the least of source and growth of power for these
+  came out of the strength and strife of the things known only to
+  the men who followed the Santa F&eacute; Trail. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h1>III<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="DEFENDING" id="DEFENDING">DEFENDING THE TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="XVIII" id="XVIII">XVIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  The mind hath a thousand eyes,<br>
+  And the heart but one.<br>
+                              --BOURDILLON.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  Busy years, each one a dramatic era all its own, made up the
+  annals of the Middle West as the nation began to feel the thrill
+  for expansion in its pulse-beat. The territorial days of Kansas
+  were big with the tragic events of border warfare, and her birth
+  into statehood marked the commencement of the four years of civil
+  strife whose record played a mighty part in shaping human
+  destiny.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meanwhile the sunny Kansas prairies lay waiting for the
+  hearthstone and the plow. And young men, trained in camp and
+  battle-field, looked westward for adventure, fortune, future
+  homes and fame. But the tribes, whose hunting-grounds had been
+  the green and grassy plains, yielded slowly, foot by foot, their
+  stubborn claim, marking in human blood the price of each acre of
+  the prairie sod. The lonely homesteads were the prey of savage
+  bands, and the old Santa F&eacute; Trail, always a way of danger,
+  became doubly perilous now to the men who drove the vans of
+  commerce along its broad, defenseless miles. The frontier forts
+  increased: Hays and Harker, Larned and Zarah, and Lyon and Dodge
+  became outposts of power in the wilderness, whose half-forgotten
+  sites to-day lie buried under broad pasture-lands and fields of
+  waving grain.<br>
+  <br>
+  One June day, as the train rolled through the Missouri woodlands
+  along rugged river bluffs, Beverly Clarenden and I looked eagerly
+  out of the car window, watching for signs of home. It was two
+  years after the close of the Civil War. We had just finished six
+  years of Federal service and were coming back to Kansas City. We
+  were young men still, with all the unsettled spirit that follows
+  the laying aside of active military life for the wholesome but
+  uneventful life of peace.<br>
+  <br>
+  The time of our arrival had been uncertain, and the Clarenden
+  household had been taken by surprise at our coming.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wonder how it will seem to settle down in a store, Bev, after
+  toting shooting-irons for six years," I said to my cousin, as the
+  train neared Kansas City.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know," Beverly replied, with a yawn, "but I'm thinking
+  that after we see all the folks, and play with Mat's little boys
+  awhile, and eat Aunty Boone's good stuff till we begin to get
+  flabby-cheeked and soft-muscled, and our jaws crack from smiling
+  so much when we just naturally want to get out and cuss
+  somebody--about that time I'll be ready to run away, if I have to
+  turn Dog Indian to do it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's a new Clarenden store at a place called Burlingame out
+  in Kansas now, somewhere on the old trail. Maybe it will be far
+  enough away to let you get tamed gradually to civil life there,
+  if Uncle Esmond thinks you are worth it," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex Krane is to take charge of that as soon as we get home.
+  Yonder are the spires and minarets and domes of Kansas City. Put
+  on your company grin, Gail," Beverly replied, as we began to run
+  by the huts and cabins forming the outworks of the little city at
+  the Kaw's mouth.<br>
+  <br>
+  Six years had made many changes in the place, but the same old
+  welcome awaited us, and we became happy-hearted boys again as we
+  climbed the steep road up the bluff to the Clarenden house. On
+  the wide veranda overlooking the river everybody except one--Bill
+  Banney, sleeping under the wind-caressed sod beside the Cimarron
+  spring--was waiting to greet us. There were Esmond Clarenden and
+  Jondo, in the prime of middle life, the one a little bald, and
+  more than a little stout; the other's heavy hair was streaked
+  with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical strength
+  told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty for
+  the years before him. The prairies had long since become his
+  home; but whether in scout service for the Government, or as
+  wagon-master for a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same
+  big, brave, loyal Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife
+  beside him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something
+  Madonna-like in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little
+  boys, Esmond, and Rex, Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy
+  welcome at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty
+  Boone. She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy
+  days, when I considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she
+  looked at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once
+  more 'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get
+  your supper right away. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  As she turned away, Mat said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to
+  meet. She has just come and doesn't even know that you are
+  expected. It is 'Little Lees.'"<br>
+  <br>
+  A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall,
+  a presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with
+  her golden hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big
+  dark eyes and their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her
+  dainty coloring, and beyond all these the beauty of womanly
+  strength written in her countenance.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a
+  deeper shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June
+  roses. She stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in
+  an instant the rich bloom came back to them again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
+  unannounced," Mat said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in,
+  as he took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at
+  meeting her again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always
+  greeted him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two
+  when they came together. Little Blue Flower was right about them.
+  They seemed to fit each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just
+  one glance. I feel it yet, and the soft touch of her hand as it
+  lay in mine a moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  I think we chatted all together for a while. I had a wound at
+  Malvern Hill that used to make me dizzy. That, or an older wound,
+  made my pulse frantic now. I know that it was a rare June day,
+  and the breeze off the river came pouring caressingly over the
+  bluff. I remember later that Uncle Esmond and Jondo and Rex Krane
+  went to the Clarenden store, and that Mat was helping Aunty Boone
+  inside, while Beverly let the two little Kranes take him down the
+  slope to see some baby squirrels or something. And Eloise and I
+  were left alone beneath the trees, where once we had sat together
+  long ago in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom." For me, all the
+  strength of the years wherein I had built a wall around my
+  longing love, all my manly loyalty to my cousin's claims, were
+  swept away, as I have seen the big Missouri floods, joined by the
+  lesser Kaw, sweep out bridges, snapping like sticks before their
+  power.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, it seems a hundred years since I saw you and Little Blue
+  Flower ride away up the San Christobal River trail out of my
+  sight," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It has been a long time, but we are not yet old. You seem the
+  same. And as for me, I feel as if the clock had stopped awhile
+  and had suddenly started to ticking anew."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was wonderful to sit beside her and hear her voice again. I
+  did not dare to ask about her mother, but I am sure she read my
+  thoughts, for she went on:<br>
+  <br>
+  "My mother is gone now. She was as happy as a child and never had
+  a sorrow on her mind after her dreadful fever, although the
+  doctors say she might have been restored if I had only been with
+  her then. But it is all ended now."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise paused with saddened face, and looked out toward the
+  Missouri River, boiling with June rains and melted snows.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is all right now," she went on, bravely. "Sister Gloria--you
+  know who she was--stayed with me to the last. And I have a real
+  mound of earth in the cemetery beside my father." The last two
+  words were spoken softly. "Sister Gloria is in the convent now.
+  Marcos is a common gambler. His father disappeared and left him
+  penniless. Esmond Clarenden says that his father died out on the
+  plains somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Father Josef?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is still the same strong friend to everybody. He spends much
+  time among the Hopi people. I don't know why, for they are
+  hopelessly heathen. Their own religion has so many beautiful
+  things to offset our faith that they are hard to convert."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a
+  squaw in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of
+  St. Ann's did for her?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in
+  Eloise's voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I
+  sometimes think that none of them--American, English, Spanish,
+  French, Mexican, nor any others of our pale-faced people, have
+  quite such bitter acts as the Indian tragedy among a gentle race
+  like the people of Hopi-land."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope you will stay with us now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy,
+  but a young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had
+  seen this girl ride away from me without one good-by word or
+  glance. I had heard her message to me through Little Blue Flower.
+  I had suffered and outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch
+  of her hand, one smile, one look from her beautiful eyes, and all
+  the barrier of the years fell down. I wondered vaguely now about
+  Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if things became too
+  monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could not think
+  anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have no present plans. Father Josef and Esmond Clarenden
+  thought it would be well for me to come up to Kansas and look at
+  green prairies instead of red mesas for a while; to rest my eyes,
+  and get my strength again--which I have never lost," Eloise said,
+  with a smile. "And Jondo says--"<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not tell me what Jondo had said, for Beverly and Mat and
+  the two rollicking boys joined us just then and we talked of many
+  things of the earlier years.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot tell how that June slipped by, nor how Eloise, in the
+  full bloom of her young womanhood, with the burdens lifted from
+  her heart and hands, was no more the clinging, crushed Eloise who
+  had sat beside me in the church of San Miguel, but a self-reliant
+  and deliciously companionable girl-woman. With Beverly she was
+  always gay, matching him, mood for mood; and if sometimes I
+  caught the fleeting edge of a shadow in her eyes, it was gone too
+  soon to measure. I did not seek her company alone, because I knew
+  that I could not trust myself. Over and over, Jondo's words, when
+  he had told me the story of Mary Marchland, came back to me:<br>
+  <br>
+  "And although they loved each other always, they never saw each
+  other again."<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody, outside of those touched by it, knew Jondo's story,
+  except myself. He was Theron St. Vrain's brother, yet Eloise
+  never called him uncle, and, except for the one mention of her
+  father's grave, she did not speak of him. He was not even a
+  memory to her. And both men's names were forever stained with the
+  black charge against them.<br>
+  <br>
+  One evening in late June, Uncle Esmond called me into
+  council.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, Rex leaves to-morrow for the new store at Burlingame,
+  Kansas. It is two days out on the Santa F&eacute; Trail. Bev will
+  go with him and stay for a while. I want you to drive through
+  with Mat and the children and Eloise a day or two later."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise?" I looked up in surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes; she will visit with Mat for a while. She has had some
+  trying years that have taxed her heavily. The best medicine for
+  such is the song of the prairie winds," Uncle Esmond replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And after that?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We will wait for 'after that' till it gets here," my uncle
+  smiled as he spoke. "There are more serious things on hand than
+  where out Little Lees will eat her meals. She seems able to take
+  care of herself anywhere. Wonderfully beautiful and charming
+  young woman she is, and her troubles have strengthened her
+  character without robbing her of her youth and happy
+  spirits."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden spoke reminiscently, and I stared at him in
+  surprise until suddenly I remembered that Jondo had said, "We
+  were all in love with Mary Marchland." Eloise must seem to him
+  and Jondo like the Mary Marchland they had known in their young
+  manhood. But my uncle's mood passed quickly, and his face was
+  very grave as he said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "The conditions out on the frontier are serious in every way
+  right now. The Indians are on the war-path, leaving destruction
+  wherever they set foot. Something must be done to protect the
+  wagon-trains on the Santa F&eacute; Trail. I have already lost
+  part of two valuable loads this season, and Narveo has lost
+  three. But the appalling loss of property is nothing compared to
+  the terror and torture to human life. The settlers on the
+  frontier claims are being massacred daily. The Governor of Kansas
+  is doing all he can to get some action from the army leaders at
+  Washington. But you haven't been in military service for six
+  years without finding out that some army leaders are flesh and
+  blood, and some are only wood--plain wooden wood. Meantime, the
+  story of one butchery doesn't get to the Missouri River before
+  the story of another catches up with it. It's bad enough when
+  it's ruinous to just my own commercial business--but in cases
+  like this, humanity is my business."<br>
+  <br>
+  What a man he was--that Esmond Clarenden! They still say of him
+  in Kansas City that no sounder financier and no bigger-hearted
+  humanitarian ever walked the streets of that "Gateway to the
+  Southwest" than the brave little merchant-plainsman who builded
+  for the generations that should follow him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What will be the outcome, Uncle Esmond? Are we to lose all we
+  have gained out here?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not if we are real Westerners. It's got to be stopped. The
+  question is, how soon," my uncle replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night in a half-waking dream I remembered Aunty Boone's
+  prophetic greeting a few days before, and how her eyes had
+  narrowed and grown dull as she said, "One more stainin' of your
+  hands 'fore you are through."<br>
+  <br>
+  I had given six good years to army service--the years which young
+  men give to college and to establishing themselves in their
+  life-work. But the vision of the three men whom I had seen under
+  the elm-tree at Fort Leavenworth came back to me, and only
+  one--the cavalry man--moved westward now. I knew that I was
+  dreaming, but I did not want to waken till the vision of a fair
+  face whose eyes looked into mine should come to make my dream
+  sweet and restful.<br>
+  <br>
+  But in my waking hours, in spite of the gravity of conditions
+  that troubled Esmond Clarenden, in spite of the terrible tidings
+  of daily killings on the unprotected plains, I forgot everything
+  except the girl beside me as I went with her and Mat and the
+  children to the new home in the village of Burlingame beside the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise St. Vrain had come up to Kansas to let the green prairies
+  shut out the memory of tall red mesas. About the little town of
+  Burlingame the prairies were waiting for her eyes to see. It
+  nestled beside a deep creek under the shelter of forest trees,
+  with the green prairie lapping up to its edges on every side. The
+  trail wound round the shoulder of a low hill, and, crossing the
+  stream, it made the main street of the town, then wandered on
+  westward to where a rim of ground shut the view of its way from
+  the settlement under the trees by the creek. A stanch little
+  settlement it was, and, like many Kansas towns of the '60's, with
+  big, but never-to-be realized, ambition to become a city. Into
+  its life and up-building Rex Krane was to throw his good-natured
+  Yankee shrewdness, and Mat her calm, generous spirit; vanguards
+  they were, among the home-makers of a great State.<br>
+  <br>
+  My stay in the place was brief, and I saw little of Eloise until
+  the evening before I was to return to Kansas City. I had meant to
+  go away, as she had left me in the San Christobal Valley, without
+  one backward look, but I couldn't do it; and at the close of my
+  last day I went to the Krane home, where I found her alone. It
+  was the long after-sunset hour, with the refreshing evening
+  breezes pouring in from all the green levels about us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex is at the store, and the others are all gone fishing,"
+  Eloise said, in answer to my inquiry for the family.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat and Bev always did go fishing on every occasion that I can
+  remember, and they will make fishermen of little Esmond and Rex
+  now. Would you like to go up to the west side of town and look
+  into New Mexico?" I asked, wondering why Beverly should go
+  fishing with Mat when Eloise was waiting for his smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  But I was desperately lonely to-night, and I might not see Eloise
+  again until after she and Beverly--I could not go farther. She
+  smiled and said, lightly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm just honin' for a walk, as Aunty Boone would say, but I'm
+  not quite ready to see New Mexico yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, it's only a thing made of evening mists rising from the
+  meadows, and bits of sunset lights left over when the day was
+  finished," I assured her.<br>
+  <br>
+  So we left the shadow of the tall elms and strolled up the main
+  street toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the one cross-street cut the trail in the center of the
+  village there was a public well. The ground around it was
+  trampled into mud by many hoofs. A Mexican train had just come in
+  and was grouped about this well, drinking eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What news of the plains?" I asked their leader as we passed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot tell you with the lady here," he replied, bowing
+  courteously. "It is too awful. A spear hung with a scalp of
+  pretty baby hair like hers. I see it yet. The plains are all
+  <i>alive--alive</i> with hostile red men; and the worst one of
+  all--he that had the golden scalp--is but a half-breed Cheyenne
+  Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he."<br>
+  <br>
+  The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and
+  struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then
+  passed up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward
+  route.<br>
+  <br>
+  The mists were rising from the lowlands; along the creek the
+  sunset sky was all a flaming glory, under whose deep splendor the
+  June prairies lay tenderly green and still; down in the village
+  the sounds of the Mexicans settling into camp; the shouting of
+  children, romping late; and out across the levels, the mooing
+  call of milking-time from some far-away settler's barn-yard; a
+  robin singing a twilight song in the elms; crickets chirping in
+  the long grass; and the gentle evening breeze sweet and cool out
+  of the west--such was the setting for us two. We paused on the
+  crest of the ridge and sat down to watch the afterglow of a
+  prairie twilight. We did not speak for a long time, but when our
+  eyes met I knew the hour had been made for me. In such an hour we
+  had sat beside the glistening Flat Rock down in the Neosho
+  Valley. I was a whole-hearted boy when I went down there, full of
+  eagerness for the life of adventure on the trail, and she a girl
+  just leaving boarding-school. And now--life sweetens so with
+  years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think I can understand why your uncle thought it would be well
+  for me to come to Kansas," Eloise said at last. "There is an
+  inspiration and soothing restfulness in a thing like this. Our
+  mountains are so huge and tragical; and even their silences are
+  not always gentle. And our plains are dry and gray. And yet I
+  love the valley of the Santa F&eacute;, and the old Ortiz and
+  Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the
+  Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them
+  for help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang
+  his psalms of hope and victory."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Nature is kind to us if we will let her be. Jondo told me
+  that long ago, and I've proved it since. But I have always loved
+  the prairies. And this ridge here belongs to me," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise looked up inquiringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll tell you why. When I was a little boy, years ago, a
+  day-dreaming, eager-hearted little boy, we camped here one night.
+  That was my first trip over the trail to Santa F&eacute;. You
+  haven't forgotten it and what a big brown bob-cat I looked like
+  when I got there. I grew like weeds in a Kansas corn-field on
+  that trip."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I remember you. Go on," Eloise said, laughingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That night after supper, everybody had left camp--Mat and Bev
+  were fishing--and I was alone and lonely, so I came up here to
+  find what I could see of the next day's trail. It was such an
+  hour as this. And as I watched the twilight color deepen, my own
+  horizon widened, and I think the soul of a man began, in that
+  hour, to look out through the little boy's eyes; and a new
+  mile-stone was set here to make a landmark in my life-trail. The
+  boy who went back slowly to the camp that night was not the same
+  little boy that had run up here to spy out the way of the next
+  day's journey."<br>
+  <br>
+  The afterglow was deepening to purple; the pink cloud-flecks were
+  turning gray in the east, and a kaleidoscope of softest rose and
+  tender green and misty lavender filled the lengthening shadows of
+  the twilight prairie.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I had a longing that night, still unfulfilled. I wish I
+  dared to tell you what it was."<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned to look at the fair girl-woman beside me. In the
+  twilight her eyes were always like stars; and the golden hair and
+  the pink bloom of her cheeks seemed richer in their shadowy
+  setting. To-night her gown was white--like the Greek dress she
+  had worn at Mat's wedding, on the night when she met Beverly in
+  the little side porch at midnight. Why did I recall that
+  here?<br>
+  <br>
+  "What was your wish, Gail?" The voice was low and sweet.<br>
+  <br>
+  I took her hand in mine and she did not draw away from me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That I might some day have a real home all my own down there
+  among the trees. I was a little homesick boy that night, and I
+  came up here to watch the sunset and see the open level lands
+  that I have always loved. Eloise, Jondo told me once of three
+  young college men who loved your beautiful mother, and because of
+  that love they never married anybody, but they lived useful,
+  happy lives. I can understand now why they should love her, and
+  why, because they could not have her love, they would not marry
+  anybody else. One was my uncle Esmond, and one was Father
+  Josef."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And the third?" The voice was very low and a tremor shook the
+  hand I held.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He did not tell me. And I speak of it now only to show you that
+  in what I want to say I am not altogether selfish and unkind. I
+  love you, Eloise. I have loved you since the day, long ago, when
+  your face came before me on the parade-ground at Fort
+  Leavenworth. I told you of that once down on the bluff by the
+  Clarenden home at Kansas City. I shall love you, as the Bedouin
+  melody runs,</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Til the sun grows cold,<br>
+  And the stars are old,<br>
+  And the leaves of the judgment<br>
+            Book unfold!</p>
+
+  <p>"But I know that it will end as Uncle Esmond's and Father
+  Josef's loving did, in my living my life alone."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise quickly withdrew her hand, and the pain in her white face
+  haunts me still.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do not want to hurt you, oh, Eloise. I know I do wrong to
+  speak, but to-night will be the last time. I thought that night
+  in the church at San Miguel, and that next day when we rode for
+  our lives together, that you cared for me who would have walked
+  through fire for you. But in that hour in the little chapel a
+  barrier came between us. You rode away without one word or
+  glance. And I turned back feeling that my soul was falling into
+  ruins like that half-ruined little pile of stone that some holy
+  padre had built his heart into years and years ago. Then Little
+  Blue Flower brought your message to me and I knew as I sat beside
+  Fort Marcy's wall that night, and saw the sun go down, that the
+  light of my life was going out with it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail," Eloise exclaimed, "I said I could not send you any
+  word, but you would understand. I--I couldn't say any more than
+  that." Her voice was full of tears and she turned away from me
+  and looked at the last radiant tints edging the little
+  cloud-flecks above the horizon.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Of course I understand you, Eloise, and I do not blame you. I
+  never could blame you for anything." I sprang to my feet. "You'll
+  hate me if I say another word," I said, savagely.<br>
+  <br>
+  She rose up, too, and put her hand on my arm. Oh, she was
+  beautiful as she stood beside me. So many times I have pictured
+  her face, I will not try to picture it as it looked now in this
+  sweet, sacred moment of our lives.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I could never hate you. You do not understand me. I cannot
+  help what is past now. I hoped you might forget. And yet--" She
+  paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  All men are humanly alike. In spite of my strong love for Beverly
+  and my sense of right, the presence of the woman whose image for
+  so many years had been in the sacredest shrine of my heart,
+  Eloise, in all her beauty and her womanly strength and purity,
+  standing beside me, her hand still on my arm--all overpowered
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I put my arms about her and held her close to me, kissing her
+  forehead, her cheek, her lips. The world for one long moment was
+  rose-hued like the sunset's afterglow; and sky and prairie,
+  lowlands along the winding creek, and tall elm-trees above the
+  deepening shadows, were all engulfed in a mist of golden glory,
+  shot through with amethyst and sapphire, the dainty coraline pink
+  of summer dawns, and the iridescent shimmer of
+  mother-of-pearl.<br>
+  <br>
+  Heaven opens to us here and there such moments on the way of
+  life. And the memory of them lingers like perfume through all the
+  days that follow.<br>
+  <br>
+  We turned our faces toward the darkening village street and the
+  tall elms above the gathering shadows, and neither spoke a word
+  until we reached the door where I must say good night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot ask you to forgive me, Little Lees, because you let me
+  have a bit of heaven up there. I shall go away a better man. And,
+  remember, that no blessing in your life can be greater than I
+  would wish for you to have."<br>
+  <br>
+  The brave white face was before my eyes and the low voice was in
+  my ears long after I had left her door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I cannot help what has been, but I do not blame you. I
+  should almost wish myself shut in again by the tall red mesas;
+  but maybe, after all, the prairies are best for me. I am glad I
+  have known you. Good night."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Goodnight," I said, and turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  And that was all. The last light of day had gone from the sky,
+  and the stars overhead were hidden by the thick leafage of the
+  Burlingame elms. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX">XIX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  A MAN'S PART</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us
+  through the years;<br>
+  Heaven and hell rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;<br>
+  Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove
+  with a gray,<br>
+  To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic
+  day?<br>
+                                          --ROBERT W. SERVICE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  However darkly the sun may go down on hope and love, the real sun
+  shines on, day after day, with its inexorable call to duty. In
+  less than a week after I had left Eloise and the vague hope of a
+  home of my own under the big elm-trees of Burlingame, Governor
+  Crawford of Kansas sent forth a call for a battalion of four
+  companies of soldiers, and I heard the call and answered it.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was to be known as the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry, with Col.
+  Horace L. Moore, a veteran soldier of tried mettle, at the head.
+  We were to go at once to Fort Harker, in the valley of the Smoky
+  Hill River, to begin a campaign against the Indians, who were
+  laying waste the frontier settlements and attacking wagon-trains
+  on the Sante F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the evening before I left home I sat on the veranda of the
+  Clarenden house, waiting for Uncle Esmond to join me, when
+  suddenly Beverly Clarenden strode over the edge of the hill. The
+  sunny smile and the merry twinkle of his eye were Bev's own, and
+  there wasn't a line on his face to show whether it belonged to
+  the happy lover or the rejected suitor. I thought I could always
+  read his moods when he had any. He had none to-night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I just got in from Burlingame. At what hour do you leave
+  to-morrow? I'm going along to chaperon you, as usual," he
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Beverly Clarenden, I thought you were fixed at Burlingame,
+  selling molasses and calico by the gallon," I exclaimed, but my
+  real thought was not given to words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And let the Cheyennes, and Kiowas, and Arapahoes, and other
+  desperadoes of the plains gnaw clear into the heart of us? Not
+  your uncle Esmond Clarenden's nephew. And, Gail, this won't be
+  anything like we have had since those six Kiowas staked you out
+  on Pawnee Rock once. The thoroughbred Indians are bad enough, but
+  there is a half-breed leader of a band of Dog Indians that's
+  worst of all. He's of the yellow kind, with wolf's fangs. A
+  Mexican on the trail told me that this half-breed ties up with
+  the worst of every tribe from the Coast Range mountains to
+  Tecumseh, Kansas," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember that Mexican. I saw him at the well in Burlingame," I
+  replied, turning to look at the Kaw winding far away, for the
+  memory of everything in Burlingame was painful to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone's huge form appearing around the corner of the house
+  shut off my view of the river just then. Her face was glistening,
+  but her eyes were dull as she looked us over.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You stainin' your hands again," she purred. "Yes, Aunty. We are
+  going to lick the redskins into ribbons," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You never get that done. Lickin' never settles nobody. You just
+  hold 'em down till they strong enough to boost you off their
+  heads again, and up they come. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The black woman gave a chuckle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I'd rather sit on their heads than have them sitting on
+  mine, or yours, Aunty Boone," Beverly returned, laughingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone's eyes narrowed and there was a strange light in them
+  as she looked at us, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You get into trouble, Mr. Bev, you see me comin', hot streaks,
+  to help you out. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She breathed her weird, African whoop and turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll depend on you." Beverly's face was bright, and there was no
+  shadow in his eyes, as he called after her retreating form.<br>
+  <br>
+  We chatted long together, and I hoped--and feared--to have him
+  tell me the story of his suit with Eloise, and why in such a day,
+  of all the days of his life, he should choose to run away to the
+  warfare of the frontier. He could not have failed, I thought.
+  Never a disappointed lover wore a smile like this. But Beverly
+  had no story to tell me that night.<br>
+  <br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The mid-July sun was shining down on a treeless landscape, across
+  which the yellow, foam-flecked Smoky Hill River wound its sinuous
+  way. Beside this stream was old Fort Harker, a low quadrangle of
+  quarters, for military man and beast, grouped about a
+  parade-ground for companionship rather than for protection. The
+  frontier fort had little need for defensive strength. About its
+  walls the Indian crawled submissively, fearful of munitions and
+  authority. It was not here, but out on lonely trails, in sudden
+  ambush, or in overwhelming numbers, or where long miles, cut off
+  from water, or exhausting distance banished safe retreat, that
+  the savage struck in all his fury.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eastward from Harker the scattered frontier homesteads crouched,
+  defenseless, in the river valleys. Far to the northwest spread
+  the desolate lengths of a silent land where the white man's foot
+  had hardly yet been set. Miles away to the southwest the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail wound among the Arkansas sand-hills, never, in
+  all its history, less safe for freighters than in that summer of
+  1867.<br>
+  <br>
+  In this vast demesne the raiding Cheyenne, the cruel Kiowa, the
+  blood-thirsty Arapahoe, with bands of Dog Indians and outlaws
+  from every tribe, contested, foot by foot, for supremacy against
+  the out-reaching civilization of the dominant Anglo-American. The
+  lonely trails were measured off by white men's graves. The
+  vagrant winds that bear the odor of alfalfa, and of orchard bloom
+  to-day, were laden often with the smoke of burning homes, and
+  often, too, they bore that sickening smell of human flesh, once
+  caught, never to be forgotten. The story of that struggle for
+  supremacy is a tragic drama of heroism and endurance. In it the
+  Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry played a stirring part.<br>
+  <br>
+  It seems but yesterday to me now, that July day so many years
+  ago, when our four companies, numbering fewer than four hundred
+  men, detrained from the Union Pacific train at Fort Harker on the
+  Smoky Hill. And the faces of the men who were to lead us are
+  clear in memory. Our commander, Colonel Moore, always brave and
+  able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay, and Edgar Barker, and
+  George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd, courageous
+  scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking, young
+  lieutenant, Frank Stahl. Ours was not to be a record of unfading
+  glory, as national military annals show, yet it may count
+  mightily when the Great Records are opened for final estimates.
+  Those men who marched two thousand miles, back and forth, upon
+  the trackless plains in that four months' campaign, have been
+  forgotten in the debris of uneventful years. Our long-faded
+  trails lie buried under wide alfalfa-fields and the paved streets
+  of western Kansas towns. From the far springs that quenched our
+  burning thirst comes water, trickling through a nickel faucet
+  into a marble basin, now. Where the fierce sun seared our
+  eyeballs, in a treeless, barren waste, green groves, atune with
+  song-birds, cast long swaths of shade on verdant sod. The perils
+  and the hardships of the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry are now but as
+  a tale that is told.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet of all the heroes whose life-trails cut my own, I account
+  among the greatest those men under whose command, and with whose
+  comradeship, I went out to serve the needs of my generation among
+  the vanguards of the plains. And if in a sunset hour on the west
+  ridge beyond the little town of Burlingame I had left a hopeless
+  love behind me, I put a man's best energy into the thing before
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  The battle-field alone is not the soldier's greatest test. I had
+  kept step with men who charge an enemy on an open plain or storm
+  a high defense in the face of sure defeat. I had been ordered
+  with my company to take redoubts against the flaming throats of
+  bellowing cannon in the life-and-death grip before Richmond. I
+  had felt the awful thrill of carnage as my division surged back
+  and forth across the blood-soaked lengths of Gettysburg, and I
+  never once fell behind my comrades. The battle-field breeds
+  courage, and self-forgetfulness, and exaltation, from the sense
+  of duty squarely met.<br>
+  <br>
+  There were no battle-fields in 1867, where Greek met Greek in
+  splendid gallantry, out on the Kansas plains. Over Fort Harker
+  hung the pall of death, and in the July heat the great black
+  plague of Asiatic cholera stalked abroad and scourged the land.
+  Men were dying like rats, lacking everything that helps to drive
+  death back. The volunteer who had offered himself to save the
+  settlers from the scalping-knife had come here only to look into
+  an open grave, and then, in agony, to drop into it. Such things
+  test soldiers more than battle-fields. And our men turned back in
+  fear, preferring the deserter's shame to quick, inglorious
+  martyrdom by Asiatic cholera. I had a battle of my own the first
+  night at Fort Harker. There was a growing moon and the night
+  breeze was cool after the heat of the day. Beverly Clarenden and
+  I went down to the river, whose tawny waters hardly hid the tawny
+  sands beneath them. The plains were silent, but from all the
+  hospital tents about the fort came the sharp, agonized cries of
+  pain that forerun the last collapse of the plague-stricken
+  sufferers. To get away from the sound of it all we wandered down
+  the stream to where the banks of soft, caving earth on the
+  farther side were higher than a man's head, and their shadow hid
+  the current. We sat down and stared silently at the waters,
+  scarcely whispering as they rolled along, and at the still shade
+  of the farther bank upon them. The shadows thickened and moved a
+  little, then grew still. We also grew still. Then they moved
+  again just opposite us, and fell into three parts, as three men
+  glided silently along under the bank's protecting gloom. We
+  waited until they had reached the edge of the moonlight, and saw
+  three soldiers pass swiftly out across the unprotected sands to
+  other shadowy places further on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Deserters!" Beverly said, half aloud. "You can stay here if you
+  want to, Gail. I'd rather go up and listen to those poor wretches
+  groan than stick down here and listen to the fiend inside of me
+  to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  He rose and stalked away, and I sat listening to myself. I could
+  join those three men easily enough. The world is wide. I had no
+  bond to hold me to one single place in it. I was young and
+  strong, and life is sweet. Why let the black plague snuff me out
+  of it? I had come here to serve the State. I should not serve it
+  in a plague-marked grave. I rose to follow down the stream, to go
+  to where the Smoky Hill joins the big Republican to make the Kaw,
+  and on to where the Kaw reaches to the Missouri. But I would not
+  stop there. I'd go until I reached the ocean somewhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  Would I?<br>
+  <br>
+  The memory of Jondo's eyes when they looked into mine on Pawnee
+  Rock came unbidden across my mind. Jondo had lived a nameless
+  man. How strong and helpful all his years had been! How starved
+  had been my life without his love! I would be another Jondo,
+  somewhere on earth.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared after three faintly moving shadows down the stream.
+  'Twas well I waited, for Esmond Clarenden came to me now,
+  clean-cut, honest, everybody's friend. How firm his life had
+  been; and he had built into me a hatred of deceit and lies. And
+  Jondo was another Uncle Esmond. In spite of the black shadow on
+  his name, he walked the prairies like a prince always. I could
+  not be like him if I were a deserter. Up-stream death was waiting
+  for me; down-stream, disgrace. I turned and followed up the
+  river's course, but the strength that forced me to it was greater
+  than that which made me brave on battle-fields. And ever since
+  that night beside the Smoky Hill I have felt gentler toward the
+  man who falls.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were not idle long for Fort Harker had just been informed of
+  an assault on a wagon-train on the Santa F&eacute; Trail and our
+  cavalry squadron hurried away at once to overtake and punish the
+  assailants.<br>
+  <br>
+  We came into camp on the bank of Walnut Creek, at the close of a
+  long summer day of blazing light and heat over the barren trails
+  where there was no water; a day of long hours in the saddle; a
+  day of nerve-wearing watchfulness. But we believed that we had
+  left the plague-cursed region behind us, so we were light-hearted
+  and good-natured; and we ate, and drank, and took our lot
+  cheerfully.<br>
+  <br>
+  Among the men at mess that night I saw a new face which was
+  nothing remarkable, except that something in it told me that I
+  had already seen that face somewhere, some time. It is my gift
+  never to forget a face, once seen, no matter how many years may
+  pass before I see it twice. This soldier was a pleasant fellow,
+  too, and, in a story he was telling, clever at imitating
+  others.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who is that man, Bev? The third one over there?" I asked my
+  cousin.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Stranger to me. I don't believe I ever saw him before. Who is
+  the fellow with the smile, Captain?" Beverly asked the officer
+  beside him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know. He's not in my company. I'm finding new faces
+  every day," the captain replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  As twilight fell I saw the man again at the edge of the camp. He
+  smiled pleasantly as he passed me, turning to look at Beverly,
+  who did not see him, and in a minute he was cantering down to the
+  creek beside our camp. I saw him cross it and ride quickly out of
+  sight. But that smile brought to the face the thing that had
+  escaped me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know that fellow now," I said to Beverly and the officer who
+  came up just then. "He's Charlie Bent, the son of Colonel Bent.
+  Don't you remember the little sinner at old Fort Bent, Bev?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do, and what a vicious little reptile he was," Beverly
+  replied. "But Uncle Esmond told me that his father took him away
+  early and had him schooled like a gentleman in the best Saint
+  Louis had to give. I wonder whose company he is in."<br>
+  <br>
+  The officer stared at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You mean to say you know that cavalryman to be Charlie Bent?" he
+  fairly gasped.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Of course it's Charlie. I never missed a face in all my life.
+  That's his own," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The worst Indian on the plains!" the captain declared. "He stirs
+  up more fiendishness than a whole regiment of thoroughbred
+  Cheyennes could ever think of. He's led in every killing here
+  since March."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not Colonel Bent's son!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he's the half-breed devil that we'll have to fight, and
+  here he comes and eats with us and rides away."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He must be the fellow that the Mexican told us about back at
+  Burlingame, Gail. I remember now he did say the brute's name was
+  Bent, but I didn't rope him up with our Fort Bent chum. Gail
+  would have run him down in half a minute if he had heard the
+  name. I never could remember anything," Beverly said, in disgust.
+  But the smile was peeping back of his frown, and he forgot the
+  boy he was soon to have cause enough to remember.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must run that rascal down to-night," the Captain declared, as
+  he hurried away to consult with the other officers.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Charlie Bent was not run down that night. Before we had time
+  to get over our surprise a scream of pain rang through the camp.
+  Another followed, and another, and when an hour had passed a
+  third of our forces was writhing in the clutches of the
+  cholera.<br>
+  <br>
+  I shall never forget the long hours of that night beside the
+  Walnut, nor Beverly Clarenden's face as he bent over the
+  suffering men. For all of us who were well worked mightily to
+  save our plague-stricken comrades, whose couches were of prairie
+  grass and whose hospital roof was the starlit sky. However
+  forgetful Beverly might be of names and faces, his strong hand
+  had that soothing firmness that eased the agony of cramping
+  limbs. Dear Bev! He comforted the sick, and caught the dying
+  words, and straightened the relaxed bodies of the dead, and
+  smiled next day, and forgot that he had done it.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last the night of horror passed, and day came, wan and hot and
+  weary out of the east. But five of our comrades would see no
+  earthly day again; and three dozen strong men of the day before
+  lay stretched upon the ground, pulseless and shrunken and purple,
+  with wrinkled skin and wide, unseeing eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before the sun had risen our dead, coffined only by their army
+  blankets, lay in unmarked graves. Our helpless living were placed
+  in commissary wagons, and we took the trail slowly and painfully
+  toward the Arkansas River.<br>
+  <br>
+  If Charley Bent had gathered up his band to strike that night
+  there would have been a different chapter in the annals of the
+  plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot follow with my pen the long marches of that campaign,
+  and there was no honorable nor glorious warfare in it. It is a
+  story of skirmishes, not of battles; of attack and repulse; of
+  ambush and pursuit and retreat. It is a story of long days under
+  burning skies, by whose fierce glare our brains seemed shriveling
+  up and the world went black before our heat-bleared eyes. A story
+  of hard night-rides, when weary bodies fought with watchful minds
+  the grim struggle that drowsiness can wage, though sleep, we
+  knew, meant death. It is a story of fevered limbs and bursting
+  pulse in hospitals whose walls were prairie distances. A story of
+  hunger, and exhausted rations; of choking thirst, with only
+  alkali water mocking at us. And never could the story all be
+  told. There is no rest for cavalrymen in the field. We did not
+  suffer heavy loss, but here and there our comrades fell, by ones,
+  and twos, at duty's post; and where they fell they lie, in
+  wayside graves, waiting for glorious mention until the last
+  reveille shall sound above the battlements of heaven.<br>
+  <br>
+  And I was one among these vanguards of the plains, making the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail safe for the feet of trade; and the wide
+  Kansas prairies safe for homes, and happiness, and hope, and
+  power. I lived the life, and toughened in its grind. But in my
+  dreams sometimes my other life returned to me, and a sweet face,
+  with a cloud of golden hair, and dark eyes looking into mine,
+  came like a benediction to me. Another face came sometimes
+  now--black, big, and glistening, with eyes of strange, far vision
+  looking at me, and I heard, over and over, the words of Esmond
+  Clarenden's cook:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I'll come, hot streaks, to
+  help you."<br>
+  <br>
+  But trouble never stuck to "Mr. Bev," because he failed to know
+  it when it came.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mid-August found us at Fort Hays on the Smoky Hill, beyond whose
+  protecting guns the wilderness ruled. A wilderness checkered by
+  faint trails of lawless feet, a wilderness set with bloody claws
+  and poison stings and cruel fangs, and slow, agonizing death. And
+  with all a wilderness of weird, fascinating distances and danger,
+  charm and beauty. The thrill of the explorer of new lands
+  possessed us as we looked far into the heart of it. Here in these
+  August days the Cheyenne and Arapahoe and Kiowa bands were riding
+  trails blood-stained by victims dragged from lonely homesteads,
+  and butchered, here and there, to make an Indian holiday. The
+  scenes along the valleys of the Sappa and the Beaver and the
+  Prairie Dog creeks were far too brutal and revolting to belong to
+  modern life. Against these our Eighteenth Kansas, with a small
+  body of United States cavalry, struck northward from Fort Hays.
+  We rested through the long, hot days and marched by night. The
+  moon was growing toward the full, and in its clear, white
+  splendor the prairies lay revealed for miles about us. Our
+  command was small and meagerly equipped, and we were moving on to
+  meet a foe of overwhelming numbers. Men took strange odds with
+  Fate upon the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beyond the open, level lands lay a rugged region hemming in the
+  valley of the Prairie Dog Creek. Here picturesque cliffs and
+  deep, earth-walled ca&ntilde;ons split the hills, affording easy
+  ambush for a regiment of red men. And here, in a triangle of a
+  few miles area, a new Thermopylae, with no Leonidas but Kansas
+  plainsmen, was staged through two long August days and nights.
+  One hundred and fifty of us against fifteen hundred fighting
+  braves.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early morning of a long, hot August day, we came to an
+  open plain beyond the Prairie Dog Creek. Our supply-wagons and
+  pack-mules were separated from us somewhere among the bluffs. We
+  had had no food since the night before, and our canteens were
+  empty--all on account of the blundering mismanagement of the
+  United States officer who cammanded us. I was only a
+  private, and a private's business is not to question, but to
+  obey. And that major over us, cashiered for cowardice later, was
+  not a Kansas man. Thank heaven for that!<br>
+  <br>
+  A score of us, including my cousin and myself, under a sergeant,
+  and with good Scout Pliley, were suddenly ordered back among the
+  hills.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where do we go, and why?" Beverly asked me as we rode along.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know," I replied. "But Captain Jenness and a file of men
+  were lost out here somewhere last night. And Indian tracks step
+  over one another all around here. I guess we are out to find
+  what's lost, maybe. It isn't a twenty minutes' job, I know
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And all our canteens empty, too! Why cut off all visible means
+  of support in a time like this? Look at these bluffs and
+  hiding-places, will you! A handful of Indians could scoop our
+  whole body up and pitch us into the Prairie Dog Creek, and not be
+  missed from a set in a war-dance," Beverly insisted. "Keep it
+  strictly in the Clarenden family, Gail, but our honorable
+  commander is a fool and a coward, if he is a United States
+  major."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You speak as one expecting a promotion, Bev," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd know how to use it if I got it," he smiled brightly at me as
+  we quickened our pace not to fall behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  Every day of that campaign Beverly grew dearer to me. I am glad
+  our lives ran on together for so many years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The ca&ntilde;ons deepened and the whole region was bewildering,
+  but still we struggled on, lost men searching for lost men. The
+  sun blazed hotly, and the soft yellow bluffs of bone-dry earth
+  reached down to the dry beds of one-time streams.<br>
+  <br>
+  High noon, and still no food, no water, and no lost men
+  discovered. We had pushed out to a little opening, ridged in on
+  either side by high, brown bluffs, when a whoop came from the
+  head of the line.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder they are! Yonder they are!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Half a dozen men, led by Captain Jenness, were riding swiftly to
+  join us and we shouted in our joy. For some among us that was the
+  last joyous shout. At that moment a yell from savage throats
+  filled the air, and the thunder of hoofs shook the ground. Over
+  the west ridge, half a mile away, five hundred Indians came
+  swooping like a hurricane down upon us. And we numbered,
+  altogether, twenty-nine. I can see that charge to-day: the
+  blinding, yellow sky, the ridge melting into a cloud of tawny
+  dust, the surge of ponies with their riders bending low above
+  them; fronting them, our little group of cavalrymen formed into a
+  hollow square, on foot, about our mounts; the Indians riding, in
+  a wide circle around us, with blankets flapping, and
+  streamer-decked lances waving high. And as I see, I hear again
+  that wild, unearthly shriek and taunting yell and fiendish
+  laughter. From every point the riflle-balls poured in upon
+  us, while out of buffalo wallow and from behind each prairie-dog
+  hillock a surge of arrows from unmounted Indians swept up against
+  us. I had been on battle-fields before, but this was a circle out
+  of hell set 'round us there. And every man of of knew, as we sent
+  back ball for ball, what capture here would mean for us before
+  the merciful hand of death would seal our eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly, as we moved forward, the frantic circle halted and a
+  hundred braves came dashing in a fierce charge upon us. Their
+  leader, mounted on a great, white horse, rode daringly ahead,
+  calling his men to follow him, and taunting us with cowardice. He
+  spoke good English, and his voice rang clear and strong above the
+  din of that strange struggle. Straight on he came, without once
+  looking back, a revolver in each hand, firing as he rode. A
+  volley from our carbines made his fellows stagger, then waver,
+  break, and run. Not so the rider of the splendid white horse, who
+  dared us to strike him down as he dashed full at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come on, you coward Clarenden boys, and I'll fight you both.
+  I've waited all these years to do it. I dare you. Oh, I dare
+  you!"<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Charlie Bent.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nine balls from Clarenden carbines flew at him. Beverly and I
+  were listed among the cleverest shots in Kansas, but not one ball
+  brought harm to the daring outlaw. A score of bullets sung about
+  his insolent face, but his seemed a charmed life. Right on he
+  forged, over our men, and through the square to the Indian's
+  circle on the other side, his mocking laughter ringing as he
+  rode. A bloody scalp hung from his spear, and, turning 'round
+  just out of range of our fire, shaking his trophy high, he
+  shouted back:<br>
+  <br>
+  "We got all of the balance of your men. We'll get you yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sun glared fiercely on the bare, brown earth. A burning
+  thirst began to parch our lips. We had had no food nor drink for
+  more than twenty hours. Our horses, wounded with many arrows,
+  were harder to care for than our brave, stricken men.<br>
+  <br>
+  Night came upon the ca&ntilde;ons of the Prairie Dog, and with
+  the darkness the firing ceased. Somewhere, not far away, there
+  might be a wagon-train with food for us. And somewhere near there
+  might be a hundred men or more of our command trying to reach us.
+  But, whether the force and supplies were safe or the wagons were
+  captured and all our comrades killed, as Charlie Bent had said,
+  we could not know. We only knew that we had no food; that one
+  man, and all but four of our cavalry horses lay dead out in the
+  valley; that two men in our midst were slowly dying, and a dozen
+  others suffering from wounds of battle, among these our captain
+  and Scout Pliley; that we were in a wild, strange land, with
+  Indians perching, vulture-like, on every hill-top, waiting for
+  dawn to come to seize their starving prey.<br>
+  <br>
+  We heard an owl hoot here and there, and farther off an answering
+  hoot; a coyote's bark, a late bird's note, another coyote, and a
+  fainter hoot, all as night settled. And we knew that owl and
+  coyote and twilight song-bird were only imitations--sentinel
+  signals from point to point, where Indian videttes guarded every
+  height, watching the trail with shadow-piercing eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  The glossy cottonwood leaves, in the faint night breeze, rippled
+  like pattering rain-drops on dry roofs in summertime, and the
+  thin, willow boughs swayed gently over us. The full moon swept
+  grandly up the heavens, pouring a flood of softened light over
+  the valley of the Prairie Dog, whose steep bluffs were guarded by
+  a host of blood-lusting savages, and whose ca&ntilde;ons locked
+  in a handful of intrepid men.<br>
+  <br>
+  If we could only slip out, undiscovered, in the dark we might
+  find our command somewhere along the creek. It was a perilous
+  thing to undertake, but to stay there was more perilous.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say, Gail," Beverly whispered, when we were in motion, "somebody
+  said once, 'There have been no great nations without
+  processions,' but this is the darndest procession I ever saw to
+  help to make a nation great. Hold on, comrade. There! Rest on my
+  arm a bit. It makes it softer."<br>
+  <br>
+  The last words to a wounded soldier for whom Bev's grip eased the
+  ride.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange procession, and in that tragic gloom the boy's
+  light-hearted words were balm to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Silently and slowly we moved forward. The underbrush was thick on
+  either side of the narrow, stony way that wound between sheer
+  cliffs. We had torn up our blankets and shirts to muffle the
+  horses' feet, that no sound of hoofs, striking upon the rocky
+  path, might reach the ears of the Cheyenne and his allies
+  crouching watchfully above us. At the head marched Captain
+  Jenness and Scout Pliley, each with his carbine for a crutch and
+  leaning on each other for support. Followed five soldiers as
+  front guard through the defile. And then four horses, led by
+  careful hands, bearing nine suffering, silent men upon their
+  backs. Two of the horses carried three, and one bore two, and the
+  last horse, one--a dying boy, whispering into my ear a message
+  for his mother, as I held his hand. Behind us came the sergeants
+  with the remainder, for rear-guard. And so we passed, mile after
+  mile, winding in and out, to find some sheltering spot where,
+  sinking in exhaustion, we might sleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  The midnight winds grew chill, and the tense strain of that slow
+  march was maddening, but not a groan came from the wounded men.
+  The vanguards of the plains knew how to take perilous trails and
+  hold their peace.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the sun rose on the second day the hills about us swarmed
+  with savages, whose demoniac yells rent the air. Leonidas had his
+  back against a rock at old Thermopylae, but our Kansas plainsmen
+  fought in a ring of fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  At day-dawn, our brave scout, Pliley, slipped away, and, after
+  long hours among the barren hills, he found the main command.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men never gave up hope in the plains warfare, but each of us had
+  saved one bullet for himself, if we must lose this game. The time
+  for that last bullet had almost come when the sight of cavalrymen
+  on a distant ridge told us that our scout was on its way to us
+  again. It took a hero's heart to thread unseen the dangerous
+  trails and find our comrades with the cavalry major and bring
+  back aid, but Pliley did it for us--a man's part. May the sod
+  rest lightly where he sleeps to-day. Meantime, on the day before,
+  the main force of our cavalry, who had given us up for lost, had
+  had their own long, fearful struggle. In the early morning,
+  Lieutenant Stahl, scouting forward in an open plain, rushed back
+  to give warning of Indians everywhere. And they were
+  everywhere--a thousand strong against a feeble hundred caught in
+  their midst. They rode like centaurs, and their aim was deadly
+  true as they poured down, a murderous avalanche, from every
+  hillslope. Their ponies' tails, sweeping the ground, lengthened
+  by long horse-hair braids, with sticks thrust through at
+  intervals by way of ornament; their waving blankets, and
+  streamered lances held aloft; the savage roar from ten hundred
+  throats; the mad impetus of their furious charge through clouds
+  of dust and rifle smoke--all made the valley of the Prairie Dog
+  seem but a seething hell bursting with fiendins shouts,
+  shot through with quivering arrows, shattered by bullets, rocked
+  with the thunderous beat of horses' hoofs, trampling it into one
+  great maelstrom of blood and dirt.<br>
+  <br>
+  All day, with neither food nor water, amid bewildering bluffs and
+  gorges, alive with savage warriors, the cavalrymen had striven
+  desperately. Night fell, and in the clear moonlight they forced
+  their way across the Prairie Dog, and neither man nor horse dared
+  to stop to drink because an instant's pause meant death.<br>
+  <br>
+  And the evening and the morning were the first day. And the
+  second was like unto it, albeit we were no longer a triangle,
+  made up of wagon-train here and main command there, and our
+  twenty-nine--less two lost ones--under Captain Jenness, at a
+  third point. Before noon, our force was all united and we joined
+  hands for the finish.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I rode side by side all day. Everywhere around us the
+  half-breed, Charlie Bent, dashed boldly on his big, white horse
+  calling us cowardly dogs and taunting us with lack of
+  marksmanship.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm getting tired of that fellow, Gail. I'll pick his horse out
+  from under him pretty soon, see if I don't." My cousin called to
+  me as Bent's insolent cry burst forth:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come out, and let me show you how to shoot."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly leaped out toward the Indian horde surrounding Bent. He
+  raised his carbine, and with steady aim, fired far across the
+  field of battle, the cleanest shot I ever saw. Years ago my
+  cousin had urged Uncle Esmond to let him practise shooting on
+  horseback. He was a master of the art now. Charlie Bent's
+  splendid white steed fell headlong, hurling its rider to the
+  ground and dragging him, face downward, in the dirt.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot paint that day's deeds with my pen, nor ever artist
+  lived whose brush could reproduce it. If we should lose here, it
+  meant the turning of the clock from morning back to midnight on
+  the Kansas plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Between this and the safety of the prairies stood fewer than a
+  hundred and fifty men, against a thousand warriors, led by
+  cunning half-breeds skilled in the white man's language and the
+  red man's fiendishness.<br>
+  <br>
+  If we should lose--We did not go out there to lose. When each man
+  does a man's part there is no failure possible at last.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the sun sank toward late afternoon, the savage force massed
+  for its great, crushing blow that should annihilate us. The
+  strong center, made up of the flower of every tribe engaged, was
+  on the crest of a long, westward-reaching slope, a splendid
+  company of barbaric warriors--strong, eager, vengeful, doggedly
+  determined to finish now the struggle with the power they
+  hated.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was very clear, and in its crystal distances we could see
+  every movement and hear each command.<br>
+  <br>
+  The valley rang with the taunts and jeers and threats and mocking
+  laughter of our foes, daring us to come out and meet them face to
+  face, like men. And we went out and met them face to face, like
+  men.<br>
+  <br>
+  A little force of soldiery fighting, not for ourselves, but for
+  the hearthstones of a nobler people, our cavalry swung up that
+  long, western slope in the face of a murderous fire, into the
+  very heart of Cheyenne strength, enforced by all the iron of the
+  allied tribes. I marvel at it now, when, in solid phalanx, our
+  foes might easily have mowed us down like a thin line of standing
+  grain; for their numbers seemed unending, while flight on flight
+  of arrows and fierce sheets of rifle-fire swept our ranks as we
+  rode on to death or victory. But each man's face among us there
+  was bright with courage, and with our steady force unchecked we
+  swept right on to the very crest of the high slope, scattering
+  the enemy, at last, like wind-blown autumn leaves, until upon our
+  guidons victory rested and the long day was won. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XX" id="XX">XX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  GONE OUT</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  I wander alone at dead of night,<br>
+  But ever before me I see a light,<br>
+  In darkest hours more clear, more bright;<br>
+      And the hope that I bear fails never.<br>
+                      FREDRICH R&Uuml;CKERT.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The waters of the Smoky Hill flowed yellow, flecked with foam,
+  beside our camp, where, in a little grove of cottonwood trees, we
+  rested from a long day's march. The heat of a late Kansas summer
+  day was fanned away at twilight by the cool prairie breeze. There
+  was an appealing something in the air that evening hour that made
+  me homesick. So I went down beside the river to fight out my
+  daily battle and let the wide spaces of the landscape soothe me,
+  and all the opal tints of sunset skies and the soft radiance of a
+  prairie twilight bring me their inspiration.<br>
+  <br>
+  Each day my heart-longing for the girl I must not love grew
+  stronger. I wondered, as I sat here to-night, what trail would
+  open for me when Beverly and Eloise should meet again, as lovers
+  must meet some time. We had not once spoken her name between us,
+  Bev and I, in all the days and nights since we had been in
+  service on the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat lonely, musing vaguely of a score of things that all ran
+  back to one fair face, Beverly dropped down beside me. His face
+  was grave and his eyes had a gentle, pleading look, something
+  strange and different from the man whose moods I knew.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm homesick, Gail." He smiled as he spoke, and all the boy of
+  all the years was in that smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So am I, Bev. It must be in the water here," I replied,
+  lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  But neither one misunderstood the other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd like to see Little Lees to-night. Wouldn't you?" he asked,
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The question startled me. Maybe my cousin wanted to confide in me
+  here. I would not be selfish with him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I always like to see her. Why to-night, though?" I asked,
+  encouragingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly looked steadily into my face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to tell you something, Gail. I haven't dared to speak
+  before, but something tells me I should speak to-night," he said
+  slowly.<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked away along the winding valley of the Smoky Hill. I must
+  hear it some time. Why be a coward now?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on, I'm always ready to hear anything from you,
+  Beverly."<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to speak firmly, and I hoped my voice did not seem
+  faltering to him. He sat silent a long while. Then he rose and
+  straightened to his full height--a splendid form of strength and
+  wholesomeness and grace.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll tell you some time soon, but not to-night. Honor is
+  something with me yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so he left me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I dreamed of him that night with Eloise. And all of us were glad.
+  I wakened suddenly. Beverly was standing near me. He turned and
+  walked away, his upright form and gait, even in the faint light,
+  individually Bev's own. I saw him lie down and draw his blanket
+  about him, then sit up a moment, then nestle down again.
+  Something went wrong with sleep and me for a long time, and once
+  I called out, softly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, can't you sleep?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, shut up! Not if you fidget about me," he replied, with the
+  old happy-go-lucky toss of the head and careless tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was dim dawn when I wakened. My cousin was sleeping calmly
+  just a few feet away. An irresistible longing to speak to him
+  overcame me and I slipped across and gently kicked the slumbering
+  form. Two cavalry blankets rolled apart. A note pinned to the
+  edge of one caught my eye. I stooped to read:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">DEAR GAIL, Don't hate me. I'm sick of army
+  life. They will call me a coward and if they get me they will
+  shoot me for a deserter. I have disgraced the Clarenden name.
+  You'll never see me again. Good-bye, old boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  BEV.</p>
+
+  <p>Deserter!<br>
+  <br>
+  The yells of all the tribes in the battle on the Prairie Dog
+  Creek shrieked not so fiercely in my ears as that word rang now.
+  And all the valley of the Smoky Hill echoed and re-echoed it.<br>
+  <br>
+  Deserter!<br>
+  <br>
+  My Beverly--who never told a lie, nor feared a danger, nor ever,
+  except in self-defense, hurt a creature God had made. I could
+  bury Bev, or stand beside him on his wedding-day. But Beverly
+  disgraced! O, God of mercy toward all cowards, pity him!<br>
+  <br>
+  I sat down beside the blankets I had kicked apart and looked back
+  over my cousin's life. It offered me no help. I thought of
+  Eloise--and his longing to see her on the night before; of his
+  struggle to tell me something. I knew now what that something
+  was. Poor boy!<br>
+  <br>
+  He was not a boy, he was a man--strong, fearless, happy-hearted.
+  How could the plains make cowards out of such as he? They had
+  made a man of Jondo, who had all excuse to play the coward. The
+  mystery of the human mind is a riddle past my reading--and I had
+  always thought of Beverly's as an open book. The only one to whom
+  I could turn now was not Eloise, nor my uncle, nor Mat nor Rex,
+  but Jondo, John Doe, the nameless man, with whom Esmond Clarenden
+  had walked all these years and for whose sake he had rescued
+  Eloise St. Vrain. They had "toted together," as Aunty Boone had
+  said. Oh, Aunty Boone with dull eyes of prophecy! I could hear
+  her soft voice saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I come, hot streaks, to help
+  you."<br>
+  <br>
+  She could not come "hot streaks" now, for Beverly had deserted.
+  But there was Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wrote at once to him, inclosing the crumpled note, and then, as
+  one who walks with neither sight nor feeling any more, I rode the
+  plains and did a man's part in that Eighteenth Cavalry campaign
+  of '67. The days went slowly by, bringing the long, bright autumn
+  beauty to the plains and turning all the elms to gold along the
+  creek at Burlingame. Time took away the sharp edge from our grief
+  and shame, and left the dull pain that wears deeper and deeper,
+  unnoticed by us; and all of us who had loved Beverly lived on and
+  were cheerful for one another's sake.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Jondo--as only Jondo could--bore the news of my letter to
+  Esmond Clarenden, he made no reply, but sat like an image of
+  stone. Rex Krane broke down and sobbed as if his heart would
+  break. But Mat, calm, poised, and always merciful, merely
+  said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must wait awhile."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was many days before she broke the news to Eloise St. Vrain,
+  who only smiled and said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail is mistaken. Beverly couldn't desert."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was when the word came to Aunty Boone that the storm broke.
+  They told me afterward that her face was terrible to see, and
+  that her eyes grew dull and narrow. She went out to the bluff's
+  edge and sat staring up the valley of the Kaw as if to see into
+  the hidden record of the coming years.<br>
+  <br>
+  One October day, when the Kranes and Eloise sat with my uncle and
+  Jondo in the soft afternoon air, looking out at the beauty of the
+  Missouri bluffs, Aunty Boone loomed up before them suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I got somebody's fortune, just come clear before me," she
+  declared, in her soft voice. "Lemme see you' hand, Little
+  Lees!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise put her shapely white hand upon the big, black paw.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone patted it gently, the first and last caress she ever
+  gave to any of us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You' goin' to get a letter from a dark man. You' goin' to take a
+  long journey. And somebody goin' with you. An' the one tellin'
+  this is goin' away, jus' one more voyage to desset sands again,
+  and see Africy and her own kingdom. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Never before, in all the years that we had known her, had she
+  expressed a wish for her early home across he seas. Her voice
+  trailed off weirdly, and she gazed at the Kaw Valley for a long
+  moment. Then she said, in a low tone that thrilled her listeners
+  with its vibrant power:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev ain't no deserter. He's gone out! Jus' gone out.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She disappeared around the corner of the house and stood long in
+  the little side porch where Beverly had kissed Little Blue Flower
+  one night in the "Moon of the Peach-Blossom," and Eloise had
+  found them there, and I had unwittingly heard what was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is there no variation in palmistry?" Rex Krane asked. "I never
+  knew a gypsy in all my life who read a different set of
+  prophecies. It's always the dark man--I'm light (darn the
+  luck)--and a journey and a letter. But I thought maybe an African
+  seer, a sort of Voodo, hoodoo, bugaboo, would have it a light man
+  and a legacy and company coming, instead of you taking a journey,
+  Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise smiled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You musn't envy me my good fortune, Rex," she declared. "Aunty
+  Boone says she is going back to Africa, too. You'll need a new
+  cook, Uncle Esmond. Let me apply for the place right now."<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle smiled affectionately on her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I could give you a trial, as I gave her. I remember I told her
+  if she could cook good meals I'd keep her; if not, she'd leave.
+  Do you want to take the risk?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's where you'll get your journey of the prophecy, Eloise,"
+  Jondo suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, you leave out the best part of it all," Mat broke in. "She
+  added that Beverly isn't a deserter, he's just 'gone out.' Why
+  don't you believe it all, serious or frivolous?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A shadow lifted from the faces there as a glimpse of hope came
+  slowly in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And as to letters, Eloise," Uncle Esmond said, "I must beg your
+  pardon. I have one here for you that I had forgotten. It came
+  this morning."<br>
+  <br>
+  "See if it isn't from a dark man, inviting you to take a
+  journey," Rex suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It must be, it's from Santa F&eacute;," Eloise said, opening the
+  letter eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had come back again and was standing by the corner of
+  the veranda, half hidden by vines, watching Eloise with steady
+  eyes. The girl's face grew pale, then deadly white, and her big,
+  dark eyes were opened wide as she dropped the letter and looked
+  at the faces about her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is from Father Josef," she gasped. "He writes of Little Blue
+  Flower somewhere in Hopi-land. He asks me to go to Santa
+  F&eacute; at once for her sake. And it says, too--" The voice
+  faltered and Eloise turned to Esmond Clarenden. "It says that
+  Beverly is there somewhere and he wants you. Read it, Uncle
+  Esmond."<br>
+  <br>
+  As Eloise rose and laid the letter in my uncle's hand, Aunty
+  Boone, hidden by the vines, muttered in her soft, strange
+  tone:<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's jus' gone out. Thank Jupiter! He's jus' gone out. I'm
+  goin', hot streaks, to help him, too. Then I go to my own desset
+  where I'm honin' o to be, an' stay there till the judgment Day.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early morning of a rare October day upon the plains I sat
+  on my cavalry horse beside Fort Hays, waiting for one last word
+  from my superior officer, Colonel Moore. He was my uncle's
+  friend, and he had been kind to the Clarenden boys, as military
+  kindness runs.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are honorably discharged," he said. "Take these letters to
+  Fort Dodge. You will meet your friends there, and have some
+  safeguard from there on, by order of General Sheridan. God bless
+  you, Gail. You have ridden well. I wish you a safe journey, and I
+  hope you'll find your cousin soon. He was a splendid boy until
+  this happened. He may be cleared some day."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is splendid still to me in spite of everything," I
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, yes," my colonel responded. "Never a Clarenden disgraced
+  the name before. That is why General Sheridan is granting you a
+  squad to help you. It is a great thing to have a good name.
+  Good-by."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Good-by. I thank you a thousand times," I said, saluting
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I thank you. A chain, you know, is as strong as its weakest
+  link. A cavalry troop is as able as its soldiers make it."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned his horse about, and I rode off alone across the lonely
+  plains a hundred miles away toward old Fort Dodge, beside the
+  Arkansas River. Jondo and Rex were to meet me there for one more
+  trip on the long Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Late September rains had blessed the valley of the Arkansas. The
+  level land about Fort Dodge showed vividly green against the
+  yellow sand-hills across the river, and the brown, barren bluffs
+  westward, where a little city would one day rise in pretty
+  picturesqueness. The scene was like the Garden of Eden to my eyes
+  when I broke through the rough ridges to the north on the last
+  lap of my long ride thither and hurried down to the fort. I grant
+  I did not appear like one who had a right to enter Eden, for I
+  was as brown as a Malayan. Nearly four months of hard riding,
+  sleeping on the ground, with a sky-cover, eating buffalo meat,
+  and drinking the dregs of slow-drying pools, had made a plainsman
+  of me, of the breed that long since disappeared. Golf-sticks and
+  automobile steering-wheels are held by hands to-day no less
+  courageous than those that swung the carbine into place, and
+  flung aside the cavalry bridle-rein in a wild onslaught in our
+  epic day. Each age grows men, flanked by the coward and the
+  reckless daredevil.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane was first to recognize me when I reached the fort.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we are all here but Mat: Clarenden, Jondo, Aunty Boone, and
+  Little Lees; and a squad of half a dozen cavalry men are ready to
+  go with us." Rex drawled in his old Yankee fashion, hiding an
+  aching heart underneath his jovial greeting.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All of us!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. Here they all come!" Rex retorted.<br>
+  <br>
+  They all came, but I saw only one, veiling the joy in my eyes as
+  best I could. For with the face of Eloise before me, I knew the
+  hardest battle of my life was calling me to colors. I had
+  forgotten how womanly she was, or else her summer by the blessed
+  prairies that lap up to the edge of the quiet town of Burlingame
+  had brought her peace and helped her to put away sad memories of
+  her mother.<br>
+  <br>
+  Behind her--a black background for her fair, golden head--was
+  Aunty Boone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Our girl was called to Santa F&eacute;, and Daniel here goes
+  with her. I couldn't stay behind, of course," my uncle said. "The
+  Comanches are making trouble all along the Cimarron, and we will
+  go up the Arkansas by the old trail route. It is farther, but the
+  soldiers say much safer right now, and maybe just as quick for
+  us. There is no load of freight to hinder us--two wagons and our
+  mounts. Besides, the cavalrymen have some matters to look after
+  near the mountains, or we might not have had their protection
+  granted us."<br>
+  <br>
+  The beauty of that early autumn on the plains and mountains
+  lingers in my memory still, though half a century has passed
+  since that journey on the old, long trail to Santa F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the closing of an Indian summer day we pitched our camp
+  outside the broken walls of old Fort Bent. Every day found me
+  near Eloise, although the same barrier was between us that had
+  risen up the day she left me in the ruined chapel by the San
+  Christobal River. Every day I longed to tell her what Beverly had
+  said to me the night he--went out. It was due her that she should
+  know how tenderly he had thought of her.<br>
+  <br>
+  The night was irresistible, soft and balmy for the time of year,
+  as that night had been long ago when we children were marooned
+  inside this stronghold. A thin, growing moon hung in the crystal
+  heavens and all the shadowy places were softened with gray tones.
+  Jondo and Uncle Esmond and Rex Krane were talking together. Aunty
+  Boone was clearing up after the evening meal. The soldiers were
+  about their tasks or pastimes. Only Eloise and I were left beside
+  the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's go and find the place where we spent our last evening
+  here, Little Lees," I said, determined to-night to tell her of
+  Beverly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And just as many other places as we can remember," Eloise
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  We clambered over heaps of fallen stone in the wide doorway, and
+  stood inside the half-roofless ruin that had been a stronghold at
+  the wilderness crossroads.<br>
+  <br>
+  The outer walls were broken here and there. The wearing elements
+  were slowly separating the inner walls and sagging roofs. Heaps
+  of debris lay scattered about. Over the caving well the
+  well-sweep stuck awry, marking a place of danger. Everywhere was
+  desolation and slow destruction.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down on some fallen timbers in the old court and looked
+  about us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was a pity that Colonel Bent should have blown up this
+  splendid fortress, and all because the Government wouldn't pay
+  him his price for it," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Destroyed what he had built so carefully, and what was so
+  useful," Eloise commented. "Sometimes we wreck our lives in the
+  same way."<br>
+  <br>
+  I have said the twilight seemed to fit her best, although at all
+  times she was fair. But to-night she was a picture in her
+  traveling dress of golden brown, with soft, white folds about her
+  throat. I wondered if she thought of Beverly as she spoke. It
+  hurt me so to be harsh with his memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Charlie Bent blew up all that the Colonel built into him,
+  of education and the ways of cultured folks--a leader of a Dog
+  Indian band, he is a piece of manhood wrecked. And by the way," I
+  went on, "Beverly shot his beautiful white horse on the Prairie
+  Dog Creek. You should have seen that shot. It was the cleanest
+  piece of long-range marksmanship I ever saw. He hated Bev for
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe he gloats over our lost Beverly to-day. He is only 'gone
+  out' to me," Eloise said softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me tell you something, Little Lees. Beverly and I never
+  spoke of you--you can guess why--until that last night beside the
+  Smoky Hill. He wanted to tell me something that night."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And did he?" Eloise asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No. He said honor was something with him still. I thought he
+  meant to tell me of himself and you. Forgive me. I do not want
+  any confidences not freely given. But now I know it was the
+  struggle in which he went down that night that he wanted to tell
+  me about. He said first, 'I'm homesick. I'd like to see Little
+  Lees.' And his eyes were full of sympathy as he looked at
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Did he say anything more?" Eloise's voice was almost a
+  whisper.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That was all. I thought that night I should hunt a lonely
+  trail--when he went home to claim--happiness. But now I feel that
+  I could live beside him always--to have him safe with us
+  again."<br>
+  <br>
+  As I turned to look at Eloise something was in her big, dark
+  eyes--something that disappeared at once. I caught only a
+  fleeting glimpse of it, and I could not understand why a thrill
+  of something near to happiness should sweep through me. It was
+  but the shadow of what might have been for me and was not.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you recall our prophecies here that night when we were
+  children?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, every one. Mat wanted a home, Bev to fight the Indians, and
+  you wanted me to keep Marcos Ramero in his place. I tried to do
+  it," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  And both of us recalled, but did not speak of, the warm, childish
+  kiss of Little Lees upon my lips, and how we gripped hands in the
+  shadows when the moon went cold and grey. Life was so simple
+  then.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It may be, if our problems and our tragedies crowd into our
+  younger years, they clear the way for all the bright, unclouded
+  years to follow," Eloise said, as we rose to go back to the
+  camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope they will leave us strong to meet the bright, unclouded
+  years," I answered her.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the next day the cavalrymen left us for a time, and we went on
+  alone southward toward our journey's end.<br>
+  <br>
+  Autumn on the mountain slopes, and in the mesa-girdled valleys of
+  New Mexico hung rainbow-tinted lights by day, with star-beam
+  pointed paths trailing across the blue night-sky. And all the
+  rugged beauty of a picturesque land, basking in lazy warmth,
+  out-breathing sweet, pure air, made the old trail to Santa
+  F&eacute; an enchanting highway to me, despite the burden of a
+  grief that weighed me down. For I could not shut from my mind the
+  pitiful call of Little Blue Flower that had come to Eloise, nor
+  all the uncertainty surrounding my cousin somewhere in the
+  Southwest wanting us.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little city of adobe walls seemed not to have changed a
+  hair's turn in the six years since I had seen it last. Out beyond
+  the sandy arroyo again Father Josef waited for us. The same
+  strong face and dark eyes, full of fire, the same erect form and
+  manly bearing were his. Except for a few streaks of gray in his
+  close-cropped hair the years had wrought no change in him, save
+  that his countenance betokened the greater benediction of a godly
+  life upon it. As we rode slowly to the door of San Miguel I fell
+  behind. The years since that day when the saucy little girl had
+  called me a big, brown, bob-cat here came back upon my mind, and,
+  though my hope had vanished, still I loved the old church.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before we had passed the doorway Eloise left her wagon and stood
+  beside my horse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, let us stop here with Father Josef while the others go
+  down to Felix Narveo's. It always seems so peaceful here."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are always welcome here, my children," Father Josef said,
+  graciously, as I leaped from my horse and stuck its lariat pin
+  down beside the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  Inside there were the same soft lights from the high windows, the
+  same rare old paintings about the altar, the same seat beside the
+  door.<br>
+  <br>
+  The priest spoke to us in low tones befitting sanctuary
+  stillness. "You have come on a long journey, but it is one of
+  mercy. I only pray you do not come too late," he said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell us about it, Father," Eloise urged. "The men will get the
+  story from Felix Narveo, but Gail and I seem to belong up here."
+  She smiled up at me with the words.<br>
+  <br>
+  I could have almost hoped anew just then, but for the thought of
+  Beverly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let us pray first," the holy man replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I had been confirmed in the Episcopalian faith once
+  long ago, but the plains were hard on the religion of a
+  high-church man. And yet, all sacred forms are beautiful to me,
+  and I always knew what reverence means.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You may not know," Father Josef said, "that I have Indian blood
+  in my veins--a Hopi strain from some French ancestors. Po-a-be,
+  our Little Blue Flower, is my heathen cousin, descended from the
+  same chief's daughter. The Hopi's faith is a part of him, like
+  his hand or eye, and I have never gained much with the tribe save
+  through blood-ties. But because of that I have their
+  confidence."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have all men's confidence, Father Josef," I said,
+  warmly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank you, my son," the priest replied. "When Santan, the
+  Apache, came back from a long raid eastward, he told Little Blue
+  Flower that Beverly had spared his life beside a poisoned spring
+  in the Cimarron valley, urging him to go back and marry her; life
+  had other interests now to white men who must forget all about
+  Indian girls, he declared, and with Apache adroitness he pressed
+  his claims upon her. But Santan had slain Sister Anita beside the
+  San Christobal Arroyo. A murderer is abhorrent to a Hopi, who
+  never takes life, save in self-defense or in legitimate
+  warfare--if warfare ever is legitimate," he added, gravely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "My little cousin was heart-broken, for all the years since her
+  rescue at Pawnee Rock she had cherished one face in memory; and
+  maybe Beverly in his happy, careless way had given her cause to
+  do so."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We understand, I think," Eloise said, turning inquiringly to
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I nodded, and Father Josef went on. "She knew her love was
+  foolish, but few of us are always wise in love. So Santan's suit
+  seemed promising for a time. But the Hopi type ran true in her,
+  and she put off the Apache year after year. It is a strange case
+  in Indian romance, but romance everywhere is strange enough. The
+  Apache type also ran true to dogged purpose. Besides being an
+  Apache, Santan has some Ramero blood in his veins, to be
+  accounted for in the persistence of an evil will. He was as
+  determined to win Po-a-be as she that he should fail. And he was
+  cunning in his schemes."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef paused and looked at Eloise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To make the story short," he began again, "Santan could not make
+  the Hopi woman hate Beverly, although she knew that her love was
+  hopeless, as it should be. Pardon me, daughter," Father Josef
+  said, gently. "She heard you two talking in a little porch one
+  night at the Clarenden home, and she has believed ever since that
+  you are lovers. That is why she sent for you to come to help her
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I saw Beverly give Little Blue Flower a brotherly kiss that
+  night, and I told him, frankly, how it grieved me, because I had
+  known at St. Ann's about her love for him. I had urged her to go
+  with me to the Clarendens', hoping that when she saw Beverly
+  again she would quit dreaming of him."<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked away, at the paintings and the crucifix above the altar,
+  and the long shafts of light on gray adobe walls, wondering,
+  vaguely, what the next act of this drama might reveal.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly was always lovable," Father Josef said. "But now the
+  message comes that he is out in the heart of Hopi-land, and
+  because Little Blue Flower is protecting him her people may turn
+  against her. For Beverly's sake, and for her sake, too, my
+  daughter, we must start at once to find her and maybe save his
+  life. She wants you. It is the call of sisterhood. Sister Gloria
+  and I will go with you. I have much influence with my Hopi
+  people."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Will they put Beverly to death?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot tell, but--see how long the arm of hate can be, my
+  son--Santan, the Apache, has been informed of Beverly's coming by
+  Marcos Ramero, gambler and debauchee. And Marcos got it in some
+  way from Charlie Bent, a Cheyenne half-breed, son of old Colonel
+  Bent, a fine old gentleman. Maybe you knew young Bent?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he holds a grudge against the Clarenden name because we
+  made him play square with us at the old fort when we were
+  children," I told the priest. "He yelled defiance at us in the
+  battle on the Prairie Dog Creek last August. Bev shot his horse
+  from under him just to humble the insolent dog! Beverly never was
+  a coward," I insisted, all my affection for my cousin
+  overwhelming me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This makes it clearer," Father Josef said. "Through Bent to
+  Ramero and Ramero to Santan, the word went, somehow. The Apache
+  has gathered up a band of the worst of his breed and they are
+  moving against the Hopis to get Beverly. You and Jondo and
+  Clarenden and Krane will join the little squad of cavalry you
+  left up in the mountains, and turn the Apache back, and all of us
+  must start at once, or we may be too late. May heaven bless our
+  hands and make them strong."<br>
+  <br>
+  We bowed in reverence for a moment. When we hurried from the dim
+  church into the warm October sunlight, Aunty Boone sat on the
+  door-step beside my horse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'He's jus' gone out,' I told 'em so, back there on the Missouri
+  River. He's gone out an' I'm goin', hot streaks, to find him,
+  Little Lees. Whoo-ee!" <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XXI" id="XXI">XXI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  And though there's never a grave to tell,<br>
+  Nor a cross to mark his fall,<br>
+  Thank God! we know that he "batted well"<br>
+  In the last great Game of all.<br>
+                                  --SERVICE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  We left Santa F&eacute; within an hour, and struck out toward the
+  unknown land where Beverly Clarenden, in the midst of uncertain
+  friends, was being hunted down by an Apache band. As our little
+  company passed out on the trail toward Agua Fria, I recalled the
+  day when we had gone with Rex Krane to this little village beside
+  the Santa F&eacute; River. Eloise and Father Josef and Santan and
+  Little Blue Flower were all there that day; and Jondo, although
+  we did not know it then. Rex Krane had told Beverly, going out,
+  that an Indian never forgets. In all the years Santan had not
+  forgotten.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-day we covered the miles rapidly. Jondo and Father Josef rode
+  ahead, with Esmond Clarenden and Felix Narveo following them;
+  then came Eloise St. Vrain with Sister Gloria; behind them, Aunty
+  Boone, with Rex and myself bringing up the rear. Three pack-mules
+  bearing our equipment went tramping after us with bobbing ears
+  and sturdy gait.<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked down the line of our little company ahead. The four men
+  in the lead were college chums once, and all of them had loved
+  the mother of the girl behind them. I have said the girl looked
+  best by twilight. I had not seen her in a coarse-gray
+  riding-dress when I said that. I had seen her when she needed
+  protection from her enemies. I had not seen her until to-day,
+  going out to meet hardship fearlessly, for the sake of one who
+  wanted her--only an Indian maiden, but a faithful friend. In the
+  plainest face self-forgetfulness puts a beauty all its own. That
+  beauty shone resplendent now in the beautiful face of Mary
+  Marchland's daughter.<br>
+  <br>
+  The world can change wonderfully in sixty minutes. As we rode out
+  toward the Rio Grande, the yellow sands, the gray gramma grass,
+  the purple sage, the tall green cliffs, and, high above, the
+  gleaming snow-crowned peaks, took on a beauty never worn for me
+  before. Why should a hope spring up within me that would die as
+  other hopes had died? But back of all my thought was the longing
+  to help Beverly, and a faith in Aunty Boone's weird, prophetic
+  grip on things unseen. He had just "gone out" to her--why not to
+  all of us? I could not understand Little Blue Flower's part in
+  this tragedy, so I let it alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  A day out from Santa F&eacute; we were joined by the little squad
+  of cavalrymen with whom we had parted company back at the Fort
+  Bent camping-place. With these we had little cause to dread
+  personal danger. The Apache band was a small, vicious gang that
+  could do much harm to the Hopis, but it seemed nothing for us to
+  fear.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our care was to reach Beverly before the Hopis should rise up
+  against Little Blue Flower, or the band led by Santan should fall
+  upon them. Father Josef had sent a runner on to tell them of our
+  coming and to warn them of the Apache raid. But runners sometimes
+  come to grief.<br>
+  <br>
+  It is easy enough now to sleep most of the hours away across the
+  and lands that lie between the Rockies and the Coast Range
+  mountains, where the great "through limiteds," swinging down
+  their long trail of steel, sweep farther in one day than we crept
+  in two long, weary weeks in that October fifty years ago. Only
+  Father Josef's unerring Indian accuracy brought us through.<br>
+  <br>
+  We crawled up rugged mountain trails and skirted the rims of
+  dizzy chasms; we wound through ca&ntilde;ons, with only narrow
+  streams for paths, between sheer walls of rock; we pitched our
+  camp at the bases of great, red sand stone mesas, barren of life;
+  we followed long, yellow ways over stretches of unending plain;
+  we wandered in the painted-desert lands, where all the colors God
+  has made bewilder with their beauty, in the barest, dreariest,
+  most unlovely bit of unfinished world that our great continent
+  holds; the lands forgotten, maybe, when, in Creation's busy week,
+  the evening and the morning were the sixth day, and the Great
+  Builder looked on His work and called it good.<br>
+  <br>
+  We found the Hopi trails, but not the Hopi clan that we were
+  seeking. We found Apache trails behind them, but only dimly
+  marked, as if they blew one moccasin track full of sand before
+  they made another.<br>
+  <br>
+  The October days were dreams of loveliness, and dawn and sunset
+  on the desert were indescribably beautiful. But the nights were
+  bitterly cold. Eloise and Sister Gloria were native to the
+  Southwest and they knew how to dress warmly for it. Aunty Boone
+  had never felt such chilling night breezes, but not one word of
+  complaint came from her lips in all that journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  One night we gathered into camp beneath the shelter of a little
+  butte. We had overtaken Father Josef's Indian runner an hour
+  before. He had not found the Hopis yet, and so we held a
+  council.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Hopi is ahead of us northwest," the Indian declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is the Apache following?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The runner nodded. "They have been pursued, but they have slipped
+  away; the Apache goes north, they turn north-west. They take the
+  dry lands and the pine forests beyond; their last chance. If they
+  hold out till the Apache leaves, they will return safely. You
+  follow them, wait for them, or go back without them. It is your
+  choice."<br>
+  <br>
+  We turned toward the three women, one in the bloom of her young
+  womanhood, one with the patient endurance of the nun, one black
+  and strong and always unafraid.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do not want to leave Little Blue Flower in her hour of peril,"
+  Eloise said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can go where I am needed," Sister Gloria declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This is my land, I never know Africa was right out here. I
+  thought they was oceans on both sides of it. I go where Bev's
+  gone out an then I come here and stay. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  We smiled at her mistaken dream of her far African home, and,
+  cheering one another on, when morning came we moved
+  northwest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo rode beside me all that day, and we talked of many
+  things.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail," he said, "Aunty Boone is right. This is her Africa. I
+  don't believe she will ever leave it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She can't stay here, Jondo," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She will, though. You will see. Did she ever fail to have her
+  way?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "No. She is a type of her own, never to be reproduced, but like a
+  great dog in her faithful loyalty," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And shrewder than most men," Jondo went on. "She supplied the
+  lost link with Santan for me last night. Years ago, when Little
+  Blue Flower brought me a message from Father Josef on the morning
+  that we took Eloise from Santa F&eacute;, I caught a glimpse of
+  the Apache across the plaza and read the message--'<i>trust the
+  bearer anywhere</i>'--to mean that boy. Aunty Boone had just
+  peered out and scared the little girl away. She told me all about
+  it last night, when she was bewailing Beverly's hard fate. How
+  small a thing can open the road to a big tragedy. I trusted that
+  whelp till that day at San Christobal."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope we will finish this soon," I said. "I don't understand
+  Beverly at all and I marvel at Little Blue Flower's love for him.
+  Don't you?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up with a pathos in his dark-blue eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't hurry, Gail. The trails all end somewhere soon. Life is a
+  stranger thing from day to day, but the one thing that no man
+  will ever fully understand is a woman's love for man. There is
+  only one thing higher, and that is mother-love."<br>
+  <br>
+  "The kind that you and Uncle Esmond have," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I am only a man, but Clarenden has a woman's heart, as you
+  and Beverly and my sister's child all know."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Your sister's child?" I gasped.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. When her parents went with yellow fever, too, I could not
+  adopt Mat--you know why. Clarenden did it for me. She has always
+  known that I am her uncle, but Mat was always a self-contained
+  child."<br>
+  <br>
+  I loved Mat more than ever from that hour.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next day our trail ran into pine forests, where tall, shapely
+  trees point skyward. Not a dense woodland, but a seemingly
+  endless one. Snows lay in the darker places, and here and there
+  streams trickled out into the sunlight, whose only sources were
+  these melting snows. It was a land of silence and loneliness--a
+  land forgotten or unknown to record. The Hopi trail was stronger
+  here and we followed it eagerly, but night overtook us early in
+  the forest.<br>
+  <br>
+  That evening we gathered about a huge fire of pine boughs beneath
+  a low stone ridge covered with evergreen trees that sheltered us
+  warmly from the sharp west winds. We heard the cries of
+  night-roving beasts, and in the darkness, now and then, a pair of
+  gleaming eyes, seen for an instant, and then the rush of feet,
+  told us that some wild creature had looked for the first time on
+  fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To-morrow night will see our journey's end," Jondo declared.
+  "The Hopi can't be far away, and I'm sure they are safe yet, and
+  we shall reach them before the Apache does."<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian runner's face did not change its blankness, but I felt
+  that he doubted Jondo's judgment. That night he slipped away and
+  we never saw him again.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were all hopeful that night, and hopeful the next morning when
+  we broke camp early. A trail we had not seen the night before ran
+  up the low ridge to the west of us. Eloise and I followed it up a
+  little way, riding abreast. The ridge really was a narrow, rocky
+  tableland, and beyond it was another higher slope, up which the
+  same trail ran. The trees were growing smaller and the sky flowed
+  broad and blue above their tops. The ground was only rock, with a
+  thin veneer of soil here and there. Gnarled, stunted cedars and
+  gray, twisted cypress clung for a roothold to these barren
+  ledges. The morning breeze swept, sharp and invigorating, out of
+  a broad open space beyond the edge of this rocky woodland height.
+  Eloise and I pushed on a little farther, leaving the others still
+  on the narrow shelf above our camping-place.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly, as we rode out of the closer timber to where the
+  scattered growths were hardly higher than our heads, the first
+  heaven and the first earth seemed to pass away--not in
+  irreverence I write it--and we stood face to face with a new
+  heaven and a new earth--where, in the Grand Ca&ntilde;on of the
+  Colorado River, the sublimity of the Almighty Builder's beauty
+  and omnipotence was voiced in one stupendous Word, wrought in
+  enduring color in everlasting stone. Cleaving its way westward to
+  some far-off sea, a wide abyss, a dozen miles across from lip to
+  lip, yawned down to the very vitals of the earth. We stood upon
+  the rim of it--a sheer cliff that dropped a thousand feet of
+  solid limestone, in one plummet line, to other cliffs below, that
+  dropped again through furlongs of black gneiss, red sandstone,
+  and gray granite.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beyond this mighty chasm great forest trees were, to our eyes,
+  only as weeds along its rim. Between that rim and ours we could
+  look down upon high mountain buttes and sloping red tablelands,
+  and dizzy gorges with pinnacled walls and towers and domes--vast
+  forms no pen will ever picture--not hurled in wild confusion by
+  titan fury, but symmetrical and purposeful and calm.<br>
+  <br>
+  Through slowly crawling millions of patiently wearing years,
+  while stars grew old and perished from the firmament, with cloud,
+  and frost, and wind, and water, and sharp cutting sands, these
+  strata of the old earth's crust were chiseled into gigantic
+  outlines, and all the worn-down, crumbled atoms of debris were
+  swept through long, tortuous leagues of distance toward the sea
+  by a mad river swirling through the lowest depths. A mile
+  straight down, as the crow never flies here, it rushes, but to us
+  the river was a mere creek, seen only where the lower gorges open
+  to the channel.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early light of that October morning the weird, vast shapes
+  that filled, the abyss were bathed in a bewildering opulence of
+  color. Pale gold along the farther rim, with pink and amber, blue
+  and gray, and heliotrope and rose--all blending softly, tone on
+  tone. Deeper, the heart of every rift and chasm that flows into
+  the one stupendous mother-rift was full of purple shadows. Not
+  the thin lavender of the upper world where we must live, but
+  tensely, richly regal, beyond words to paint; with silvery mists
+  above, soft, filmy veils that draped the jutting rocks and
+  rounded each harsh edge, melting pink to rose and gray to violet.
+  Eternal silence brooded over all this symbol, wrought in visible
+  form, of His Almightiness, to whom a thousand years are as a day,
+  and in the hollow of whose hand He holds the universe.
+  Measureless, motionless, voiceless, it seemed as if all the
+  ca&ntilde;ons of all the mountains of our great contienent
+  might have given to it here their awful depth and height and
+  rugged strength; their picturesqueness, color, graceful outlines,
+  dizzy steeps and awe-inspiring lengths and breadths. And fusing
+  all these into itself, height on height, and breadth on breadth,
+  entrancing charm on charm, with all the hues that the Great
+  Alchemist can throw from His vast prism, it seemed to say:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Twas only in a vision that St. John saw the four-square city
+  whose twelve gates are each a single pearl! whose walls are
+  builded on foundation stones of jasper, sapphire, and chalcedony,
+  emerald and topaz, chrysolite and amethyst; whose streets are of
+  pure gold, like unto clear glass; whose light is ever like unto a
+  stone most precious.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To you who may not dream the vision beautiful, the Mighty Maker
+  of all things sublime has given me a token here in finite stone
+  and earthly coloring of that undreamed sublimity of all things
+  omnipotent."<br>
+  <br>
+  My companion and I sat on our horses speechless, gazing down at
+  this overwhelming marvel below us. We forgot ourselves, each
+  other, our companions of the journey, its purpose, Beverly, and
+  his enemy Santan, the desert, the brown plains, green prairies,
+  rivers, mountains, the earth itself, as we stood there in the
+  shadow of the Infinite.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we turned and looked into each other's eyes for one long
+  moment. In its space we read the old, old story through, and a
+  great, up-leaping joy illumined our faces. God, who had let us
+  know each other, had let us stand by <i>this</i> to feel the
+  barrier of misunderstanding fall away.<br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  A sound of horses' hoofs on the rocky slope below us, a weird
+  Indian call, and a great shout from our calverymen drew us
+  to earth again. The Hopis were coming. Father Josef knew the
+  signal. Our Indian runner had found them in the night and sent
+  them toward us. We dashed into the forest, keeping close
+  together; and here, a mile away, under green pines, surrounded by
+  a little group of a desert Hopi clan, was Beverly Clarenden--big,
+  strong, unhurt and joyful. And Little Blue Flower.<br>
+  <br>
+  The years since that far night when I had seen two maidens in
+  Grecian robes beside the Flat Rock in the "Moon of the Peach
+  Blossom," had left no trace on Eloise St. Vrain, save to imprint
+  the graces of womanliness on her girlish face. But the
+  picturesque Indian maiden of that night looked aged and sorrowful
+  in the pine forest of her native land, bent, as she was, with the
+  dull existence of her own people; she, who had known and loved a
+  different form of life. Only the big, luminous eyes held their
+  old charm.<br>
+  <br>
+  We came together in a little open space with pine-trees all about
+  us. The minutes went swiftly then--and I must hurry to what came
+  hurrying on, for much of it is lost in mist and wonder.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the moment of glad reunion Aunty Boone suddenly gave a whoop
+  the like of which I had never heard before, and, dashing wildly
+  toward Eloise and Sister Gloria, she drove them in a fierce
+  charge straight back into the shelter of the pine-trees.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the same time a sudden rain of bullets, like a swift
+  hail-storm, and a yell--the Apache cry of vengeance--filled the
+  air. Long afterward we learned that our Indian runner had met
+  this band and tried to turn it back--and failed. He would have
+  saved us if he could.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was over soon--that encounter in the forest where each tree
+  was a shield. The cavalrymen and maybe, too, we who had been
+  plainsmen, knew how to drive back a villianous handful of
+  Apaches. In any other moment since we had ridden out of Sante
+  F&eacute; we would have laughed at such a struggle. They
+  took us in the most unguarded instant of that fortnight's
+  journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Hopis fled wildly out of sight. Here and there, from the
+  defeated, scattered band, an Apache warrior sprang back and lost
+  himself quickly in the shadows. But Santan, plunging into our
+  very midst, seized Little Blue Flower in his iron grip, and the
+  bullet from a cavalry carbine, meant for him, struck her.<br>
+  <br>
+  He laughed and threw her back and, whirling, dashed--into the
+  arms of Aunty Boone--and stopped.<br>
+  <br>
+  We carried our wounded tenderly up the steep wooded slope and out
+  into the sweet sunlight of its crest, where we laid them down
+  beside that wondrous rift with its shimmering mist and velvet
+  shadows, and colorings of splendor, folded all in the
+  magnificence of its immensity and its eternal silence.<br>
+  <br>
+  We knew that Jondo's wound was mortal, and Father Josef and
+  Eloise and Rex Krane sat beside him, as the brave eyes looked out
+  across the sublimity of earthly beauty toward the far land no eye
+  hath seen, facing, unafraid, the outward-leading trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Beverly was in the prime of young manhood, and we felt sure
+  of him, as Esmond Clarenden and Sister Gloria; and I ministered
+  to his wants.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's no use, Gail." My cousin lifted a pleading face to mine a
+  moment, as on that day, years ago on the parade-ground at Fort
+  Leavenworth. Then the bright smile came back to stay.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Bev, you have a life before you, and you aren't the only
+  Eighteenth Kansas man who deserted. We can pull you through
+  somehow--and people will forget. Even General Sheridan was
+  willing to send a squad with us, on the possibility of a mistake
+  somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Deserted!" Beverly's voice was too strong for a dying man's.
+  "Uncle Esmond, Jondo, Eloise--all of you--Gail calls me a
+  deserter. Me! Knock him over that precipice, won't some of
+  you?"<br>
+  <br>
+  We listened eagerly as he went on:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, don't you know that Charlie Bent and his renegade dogs
+  crawled into camp like snakes and carried me out by force. They
+  had a time of it, too, but never mind. Bent told me he left a
+  note for you. I supposed he would say I was dead. And when Gail
+  stirred, half awake, he went pacing around the camp, looking so
+  near like me I thought it was myself and I was Charlie Bent. I
+  was roped and gagged then, but I could see. Deserter! I'm glad I
+  got that white horse of his on the Prairie Dog Creek,
+  anyhow."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face paled suddenly and he lay still a little
+  while.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd better hurry." The smile was winsome. "They didn't give me a
+  ghost of a chance to escape, but they didn't harm a hair. They
+  kept me for a meaner purpose, and, well, I was landed, finally,
+  at Santan's door-step in the Apache-land. Santan offered to let
+  me go free if I'd persuade Little Blue Flower--dead down
+  there--to marry him. He had her come to me on pretense of my
+  sending for her. She hated the brute, and she was a woman, if she
+  was an Indian. I told him I'd see him in hell first, and I told
+  her never to give in. Poor girl! It was a cruel test, but Santan
+  knew how to be cruel. He said he'd fix me, and I guess he has
+  done it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh no, Bev. You are good for a century," I declared,
+  affectionately, holding his head on my knee.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower managed, somehow, to fool the Apache dog, and
+  we escaped and got away to her people," Beverly continued,
+  speaking more slowly, "then she sent word to Father Josef. But
+  the Hopi folks were scared about the Apaches coming against them
+  on account of harboring me, like a Jonah, among 'em; and they
+  were going to make it hard for Little Blue Flower. I don't know
+  heathen ethics in such things, but a handful of us had to cut for
+  it. I'm no deserter, though. Don't forget that. As soon as I
+  could be sure the little Indian woman's life was safe I was going
+  to get away and come home. I could not leave her to be sacrificed
+  after she had saved me from Santan's scalping-knife."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly paused and looked at us. His voice seemed weaker when he
+  spoke again:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought, sometimes, that even if I wasn't to blame for it, I
+  ought to take Little Blue Flower with me when I got away. Dear
+  little girl! she gave me one smile and whispered '<i>Lolomi</i>'
+  before she went just now. I told her long ago I was just
+  everybody's friend. I never meant to spoil anybody's life, and I
+  can meet her down at the end of the trail and never fear."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a half-wailing, half-purring cry came from Aunty Boone,
+  who was standing beside a gnarled cypress-tree.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I knowed the morning we picked up Little Blue Flower, back at
+  Pawnee Rock, we was pickin' up trouble for the rest of the trail.
+  I see it then. You can trust a nigger 'cause they never no
+  'count, but you don't know what you gettin' when you trust an
+  Indian. But, Cla'nden, that Apache Indian, Santan, ain't goin' to
+  trouble you no more. When the world ain't no fit place for folks
+  they needs helpin' out of it, and I sees to it they gets it, too.
+  Whoo-ee!" She paused and leaned against the crooked cypress. Half
+  turning her face toward us, she continued in a clear, soft
+  voice:<br>
+  <br>
+  "That man they call Ramero down in Santy Fee--I knowed him when
+  he was just Fred Ramer back in the rice-fields country. His
+  father, old man Ramer, tried to kill me once, 'cause he said I
+  knowed too much. I helped him into kingdom come right then and
+  saved a lot of misery. They blamed some other folks, I guess, but
+  they never hunted me up at all. Good-by, Clan'den, and you, too,
+  Felix, and Dick Verra. I've knowed you all these years, but
+  nobody takes no 'count of niggers' knowin's. Good-by, Little
+  Lees, and all you boys. I'll see you again pretty soon, I'm goin'
+  back to my desset now. It's over yonder just a little way.
+  Jondo--but you won't be John Doe then. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone slowly settled down beside the cypress, with her face
+  toward her beloved "desset," and when we went to her a little
+  later, her eyes, still looking eastward, saw nothing earthly any
+  more forever.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's face seemed glorified as he caught Aunty Boone's last
+  words, and his voice was sweet and clear as he looked up at
+  Eloise bending over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank God! It is all made right at last. Eloise, the charge of
+  murder against your father's name would have broken the heart of
+  the woman that I always loved--your mother. One of us had to bear
+  the shame. I took the guilt on myself for her sake--and for
+  yours. I have walked the trails of my life a nameless man, but I
+  have kept my soul clean in God's sight, and I know His name will
+  soon be written on my forehead over there."<br>
+  <br>
+  He gazed out toward the glorious beauty of the view beyond him,
+  then closed his eyes, and, bravely as he had lived, so bravely he
+  went forth on the Long Trail, leaving a name sweet with the
+  perfume of self-sacrifice and love.<br>
+  <br>
+  We did not speak of him to Beverly, for our boy had suddenly
+  grown restless, and his blood was threshing furiously in his
+  veins, and he was in pain, but only briefly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently he said, "Let us be alone a little." The others drew
+  away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Lean down, Gail. I want to tell you something." He smiled
+  sweetly upon me as I bent over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to tell you back on the Smoky Hill, but I'd promised not
+  to. And honor was something to me still. But I'm going pretty
+  soon. So listen! I loved Eloise always--always. But she never
+  cared for me. She was only my good chum. I've been too
+  happy-hearted all my days, though, Gail, to make a cross of
+  anything that would break me down. Men differ so, you know, and I
+  never was a dreamer like you. Turn me a little, won't you, so
+  that I can see that awful beauty down there."<br>
+  <br>
+  I lifted his shoulders gently and placed him where his eyes could
+  rest on the majestic scene spread out before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise loves you, but she thinks you would not marry her because
+  they say her father was a murderer. I don't believe that, Gail. I
+  told her that you didn't, either, not one little minute. You care
+  for her, I know, and losing her will break your heart. I tried to
+  tell you long ago, but Little Lees made me promise not to say a
+  word that night at Burlingame when you had gone away and I
+  thought maybe I had a half-chance with her. Tell me you'll make
+  her happy, Gail."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Beverly, I'll do my best," I murmured, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come closer, Gail. Look at those colors there. Is it so far
+  across, or only seeming so? And see the soft white clouds drop
+  purple shadows down. Is that the way the trail runs? How
+  beautiful it must be farther on. Good-by, old boy of my heart's
+  heart, and don't forget, however long the years, and wide away
+  your feet may go, to keep the old trail law. 'Hold fast.'"<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid them away in the deep pine forest--Aunty Boone, of
+  strange, prophetic vision; Santan, the cruel Indian; the loyal
+  Hopi maiden; Jondo and Beverly. God made them all and in His
+  heaven they will be rightly placed.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beside the ca&ntilde;on's rim, in the soft twilight hour of that
+  October day, Eloise St. Vrain and I plighted our troth, till
+  death us do part--for just a little while. Plighted it not in
+  happy, selfish affection, such as youth and maiden give,
+  sometimes, each to each; but in the deep, marvelous love of man
+  and woman pledged where, in sacred moments on that day, we had
+  seen the mortal put on immortality. To us there could be no
+  grander, richer, lovelier setting for life's best and holiest
+  hour than here, where, upon things finite, there rests the
+  beneficent uplifting beauty that shadows forth the Infinite. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h1>IV<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="REMEMBERING" id="REMEMBERING">REMEMBERING THE
+  TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XXII" id="XXII">XXII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE GOLDEN WEDDING</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  The heart that's never old! Oh the heart that's never old!--<br>
+  'Tis a vision of the lavender, the crimson and the gold<br>
+  Of an airy, fairy morning, when the sky is all ablaze<br>
+  With an ever-changing splendor, driving back the gloom and
+  haze!<br>
+  <br>
+  'Tis the vision of an orchard in the balmy month of May,<br>
+  Where the birds are ever singing, and the leaves are ever
+  gay;<br>
+  Where the sun is ever shining with a glory never told,<br>
+  And the trees are ever blooming--for the heart that's never
+  old!<br>
+  <br>
+                                          --JAMES E. HILKEY.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The summers and winters of fifty golden years have brought to the
+  plains their balmy breezes and blazing heat, their soft,
+  life-giving showers, and their fierce, blizzard anger. And down
+  through these fifty years Eloise St. Vrain and I have walked the
+  love trails of the plains together.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early spring of this, our "golden-wedding" year, we sat on
+  the veranda of our suburban home in Kansas City, above the
+  picturesque Cliff Drive, rippling with automobiles. The same
+  drive winds in its course somewhere near the old, rough road that
+  once led from the Clarenden home, above the valley of the Kaw,
+  down to the little city of great promise--now fulfilled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, youth may have a charm that is all its own," I said to
+  my wife, "but I wonder if it really matches the enduring charm of
+  age when one looks back on busy years of service."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise smiled up at me--the same gracious smile that has lighted
+  all my days with her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a dreamer still, Gail. But dreams do so sweeten life and
+  keep the fires of romance forever burning."<br>
+  <br>
+  "When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door
+  of the old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you
+  looking like a big, brown bob-cat, or something else, that might
+  have slept in the Hondo 'Royo all your life. But withal a boy so
+  loyal to the helpless that you were willing to fight for me
+  against an assailant bigger than yourself. You became my prince
+  in that hour, and all my dreams since then have been of you. When
+  did romance begin with you, or have you forgotten in the busy
+  years of a life swallowed up in mercantile pursuits?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "My life may have been, as you say, swallowed up in building
+  trade that builds empire, but I have never forgotten the things
+  that make it fine to me," I answered her. "Romance for me began
+  one day, long ago, out on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth.
+  I've been a Vanguard of the Plains since then, bull-whacker for
+  the ox-teams that hauled the commerce of the West; cavalryman in
+  hard-wearing Indian campaigns that defended the frontier; and
+  merchant, giving measure for measure always, like that grand man
+  who taught me the worth of business--Esmond Clarenden."<br>
+  <br>
+  "On the parade-ground? How there?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It came the day that I first knew we were to go with Uncle
+  Esmond to Santa F&eacute;--for you. We didn't know that it was
+  for you then. I think I was born again that day into a daring
+  plainsman, who had been a sort of baby-boy before. I sat with Mat
+  and Beverly on the edge of the parade-ground, when I looked up to
+  see, with a boy's day-dreaming eyes, somewhere this side of misty
+  mountain peaks, a vision of a cloud of golden hair about a sweet
+  child face, with dark eyes looking into mine. That vision stayed
+  with me until, one morning, fifty years ago, on the rim of the
+  Grand Ca&ntilde;on--you looked into my eyes again and I knew my
+  life dream had come true."<br>
+  <br>
+  I rose and, bending over my wife's cloud of beautiful silvery
+  hair, I kissed her gently on each fair cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, why not take the old trail for our golden-wedding
+  anniversary--a long journey, clear to the mountains?" Eloise
+  suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is no trail now; only its ghost haunting the way," I
+  replied, "but, Little Lees, I don't believe that we who look back
+  on so many happy years, after the stormy ones of early life,
+  could find any other path half so dear to us as that long path we
+  knew in childhood and early youth, and the one we followed
+  together in our first years of mature womanhood and manhood."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so we did not celebrate one October day with all of our
+  children and grandchildren and friends coming to offer us gold
+  coins, gold-headed canes--which I do not use--and gold-rimmed
+  glasses for eyes that see farther and clearer than my spectacled
+  grandsons at the university can see to-day. We made a golden
+  summer of the thing and followed where, like a will-o'-the-wisp
+  of memory, the Santa F&eacute; Trail of threescore years ago
+  reached from the raw frontier at Independence on to the Missouri
+  bluffs, clear to the sunny valley of the Holy Faith.<br>
+  <br>
+  Only a headstone at long intervals shows the way now--a stone
+  that well might read:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Here ran the old Santa F&eacute; Trail. This
+  stone, set here, is sacred to<br>
+  the memory of the Vanguards of the Plains who followed it.</p>
+
+  <p>They stand, these "markers" now, on hilltops and in deep
+  valleys; by country crossroads and where main streets cut each
+  other in the towns and villages. They ornament the city parks,
+  they show where splendid concrete bridges, re-enforced with
+  structural steel, span streams that once the ox-teams doubled and
+  trebled strength to ford. They gleam where corn grows tall and
+  black on fertile prairies; where seas of wheat have flooded
+  barren, burning plains, and perfumey alfalfa sweetens the air
+  above what was once grassless desolation. They whisper of a day
+  gone by among the silent mountains, where tunnels let the iron
+  trail run easily under the old trail's dizzy path. They nestle in
+  the shadows of gray-green cliffs and by red mesa heights; until
+  the last monument, sacred to the memory of a day forgotten,
+  speaks at the corner of the old Plaza in the heart of Santa
+  F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a journey long to be remembered--the long,
+  golden-wedding journey of Gail Clarenden with his wife, Eloise
+  St. Vrain, and all of it was sweet with memories of other days.
+  Not in peril and privation and uncertainty did we follow the
+  trail now. The Pullman has replaced the Conestoga wagon, dainty
+  viands the coarse food smoke-blackened over camp-fires, and never
+  fear of Kiowa nor Comanche broke our slumber. The long shriek
+  that cuts the air of dawn was not from wild marauders on a
+  daybreak raid down lonely ca&ntilde;ons, but from the throats of
+  splendid, steel-wrought engines swinging forth upon their solid,
+  certain course.<br>
+  <br>
+  The prairies still lap up to the edges of the little town of
+  Burlingame, whose main street is still the old trail's path. The
+  well has long since disappeared from the center of the place.
+  Where once the thirsty gathered here to drink, there stands a
+  monument sacred to the memory of the old trail days. And sacred,
+  too, to the memory of the one far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger
+  Thompson, who first conceived the thought of marking for the
+  coming generations the course of commerce that built up the West
+  in years gone by.<br>
+  <br>
+  We never lived in Burlingame, where once--a heart-hungry little
+  boy--I longed to have a home. But the Krane children and their
+  children's children still make it an abiding-place for us.<br>
+  <br>
+  To Council Grove, and old Pawnee Rock, the Cimarron Crossing of
+  the Arkansas River, the open plain about the site of old Fort
+  Bent--where only ghosts of walls and the court remain, and on to
+  Santa F&eacute;, dreamy and picturesque--hoary with age, and
+  sweet with sacred memories, we wandered on our golden-wedding
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  The name of Narveo in New Mexico still stands for gentleman. The
+  old church of San Miguel still shelters troubled hearts, and in
+  the San Christobal valley the Pictured Rocks still build up a
+  rude stair for feet that still may need the sanctuary rim of
+  safety set about them. Along the length of the old trail a
+  marvelous fifty years have enriched a history whose epic days
+  record the deeds of vanguards, who foreran and builded for the
+  softer days of golden-wedding years. The last lap of all that
+  wondrous journey bore us in ease and comfort beyond the
+  desert--the Africa, of Aunty Boone's weird fancy--to the Grand
+  Ca&ntilde;on of the Colorado. Here, as of old, the riven crust,
+  in its eternal silence, and sublimity, and beauty indescribable,
+  calmly, year by year, reveals its mighty purpose:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">To quarry the heart of earth,<br>
+      Till, in the rock's red rise,<br>
+    Its age and birth, through an awful girth<br>
+    Of strata, should show the wonder-worth<br>
+      Of patience to all eyes.</p>
+
+  <p>Amid luxurious surroundings we lived the October days upon the
+  ca&ntilde;on's rim, where, half a century ago, we had gone in
+  hardship and looked on tragedy. We crept down all the dizzy
+  lengths to the very heart of it, and ate and slept in easy
+  comfort, and gazed upward at the sky-cleaving edges thousands of
+  feet above us; we stood beside the raging Colorado River, which
+  no man had explored when we first looked upon it here. In the
+  serene hours of our sunset years we went back in memory over the
+  long way our feet had come. Life is easy for us now, made so by
+  all the splendid, simple forces of those who, in justice,
+  honesty, and broad human sympathy build enduring empire. Not
+  empire gained by bomb and liquid fire, defended by sharp
+  entanglement and cross-trenched to shut out enemies; but empire
+  builded on the commerce of the land, value for value; empire of
+  bridged rivers, quick transportation on steel-marked trails that
+  girdle harvest fields and fruitful pastures; empire of homes and
+  schools and sacred shrines.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our fifty golden years have seen such empire rise and grow before
+  our eyes, made great by thrift and business sense, swayed by the
+  Golden Rule. An empire rich in love and sweet romance and
+  thrilling deeds of courage and self-sacrifice. Glad am I to have
+  been a vanguard of its trails upon the Kansas prairies and the
+  far Western plains, sure now, as always down the years, that its
+  old law is still a righteous one: To that which is good--</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">"HOLD FAST."</p>
+
+  <h1><br>
+  <br>
+  THE END</h1><br>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3>BOOKS BY<br>
+  SIR GILBERT PARKER</h3>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style=
+      "border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium"
+      width="40%" summary="BOOKS BY SIR GILBERT PARKER">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>THE WORLD FOR SALE</i><br>
+          <i>THE MONEY MASTER</i><br>
+          <i>THE JUDGMENT HOUSE</i><br>
+          <i>THE RIGHT OF WAY</i><br>
+          <i>THE LADDER OF SWORDS</i><br>
+          <i>THE WEAVERS</i><br>
+          <i>THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG</i><br>
+          <i>WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC</i><br>
+          <i>THE LANE THAT HAD NO TURNING</i><br>
+          <i>NORTHERN LIGHTS</i><br>
+          <i>PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE</i><br>
+          <i>AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH</i><br>
+          <i>A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS</i><br>
+          <i>CUMNER'S SON, AND OTHER</i><br>
+          <i>SOUTH SEA FOLK</i></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div><br>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h3>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</h3>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  BOOKS BY<br>
+  MARGARET DELAND</h3><br>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style=
+      "border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium"
+      width="40%" summary="BOOKS BY MARGARET DELAND">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>THE RISING TIDE.
+          Illustrated<br>
+          AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated<br>
+          THE COMMON WAY. 16mo<br>
+          DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated<br>
+          AN ENCORE. Illustrated<br>
+          GOOD FOR THE SOUL. Illustrated<br>
+          THE HINDS OF ESAU. Illustrated<br>
+          THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated<br>
+          THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated<br>
+          OLD CHESTER TILES. Illustrated<br>
+          PARTNERS. Illustrated<br>
+          R.J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated<br>
+          THE VOICE. Illustrated<br>
+          THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated<br>
+          WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Illustrated</i></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div><br>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  HARPER &amp; BROTHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</h3>
+
+
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  NOVELS OF<br>
+  THOMAS HARDY</h3>
+
+  <p><br>
+  <span>The New Thin-Paper Edition of the greatest living English
+  novelist is issued in two bindings: Red Limp-Leather and Red
+  Flexible Cloth, 12mo. Frontispiece in each volume.</span></p>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none;"
+      width="30%" summary="NOVELS OF THOMAS HARDY">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>DESPERATE REMEDIES<br>
+          FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD<br>
+          A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES<br>
+          THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA<br>
+          JUDE THE OBSCURE<br>
+          A LAODICEAN<br>
+          LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES<br>
+          THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE<br>
+          A PAIR OF BLUE EYES<br>
+          THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE<br>
+          TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES<br>
+          THE TRUMPET MAJOR<br>
+          TWO ON A TOWER<br>
+          UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE<br>
+          THE WELL-BELOVED<br>
+          WESSEX TALES<br>
+          THE WOODLANDERS</i><br>
+           <br>
+          <br>
+          <br></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h3><span> <br></span><span>HARPER &amp;
+  BROTHERS<br></span><span>NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817
+  LONDON</span></h3>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span> <br></span></p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><span><br></span>
+  <span> <br></span><span> <br></span><span> <br></span>
+  <span>RECENT BOOKS OF TRAVEL<br></span><span> <br></span></h3>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>IN VACATION AMERICA</i> By HARRISON RHODES</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>In this book of leisurely
+  wanderings the author journeys among the various holiday resorts
+  of the United States from Maine to Atlantic City, Newport, Bar
+  Harbor, the Massachusetts beaches, Long Island Sound, the Great
+  Lakes, Niagara, ever-young Greenbriar White and other Virginia
+  Springs, Saratoga, White Mountains, the winter resorts of
+  Florida, the Carolinas and California.</i> Illustrated in
+  Color</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>ALONG NEW ENGLAND ROADS </i><br></span><span>By WILLIAM C.
+  PRIME</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>All those who are on the lookout
+  for an unusual way to spend a vacation will find suggestions
+  here. This book of leisurely travel in New Hampshire and Vermont
+  has been reprinted to meet the demand for a work that has never
+  failed to charm since its first publication more than a decade
+  ago.</i> Illustrated</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>AUSTRALIAN BYWAYS</i> By NORMAN DUNCAN</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>In this book the author gives a
+  chatty account of his trip along the outskirts of Australian
+  civilization. The big cities were merely passed through, and the
+  journeying was principally by stage-coach, on camel-back, or by
+  small coastal steamers from Western Australia to New Guinea.</i>
+  Illustrated in Tint</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span><br>
+  <i>CALIFORNIA: An Intimate History</i><br>
+  By GERTRUDE ATHERTON</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>The California of to-day and the
+  California of yesterday with its picturesque story, are set forth
+  in this book by the one writer who could bring to it the skill
+  united with that love for the task of a Californian-born,
+  Gertrude Atherton. This story of California covers the varied
+  history of the state from its earliest geological beginnings down
+  to the California of 1915.</i> Illustrated<br></span></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h4><span>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS</span><br>
+  <span>NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</span></h4>
+
+  <p>[Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have
+been preserved in this etext.] </p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13345 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg b/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b9c551
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg
diff --git a/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg b/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c99efdc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f6e19b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #13345 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13345)
diff --git a/old/13345-8.txt b/old/13345-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fef9948
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11406 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Vanguards of the Plains
+
+Author: Margaret McCarter
+
+Release Date: August 31, 2004 [EBook #13345]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have
+been preserved in this etext.]
+
+
+VANGUARDS
+OF THE PLAINS
+
+[Illustration: I COULD NOT SPEAK THEN, FOR ONE SENTENCE WAS RINGING IN
+MY EARS--"I WAS ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU"]
+
+VANGUARDS OF
+THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE OLD SANTA FÉ TRAIL
+
+BY
+MARGARET HILL McCARTER
+
+AUTHOR OF
+_The Price of the Prairie_
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+[Illustration]
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+1917, Harper & Brothers
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+
+This story of the old Santa Fé Trail would do honor to the memory of
+those stalwart men who defied the desert, who walked the prairies
+boldly, and who died bravely--_vanguards_ in the building of a firm
+highway for the commerce of a westward-moving Empire.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+       FOREWORD
+
+PART I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+I. THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+II. A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+III. THE WIDENING HORIZON
+IV. THE MAN IN THE DARK
+V. WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+VI. SPYING OUT THE LAND
+VII. "SANCTUARY"
+VIII. THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+PART II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+IX. IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+X. THE HANDS THAT CLING
+XI. "OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+XII. THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+XIII. IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+XIV. OPENING THE RECORD
+XV. THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+XVI. FINISHING TOUCHES
+XVII. SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+PART III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+XVIII. WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+XIX. A MAN'S PART
+XX. GONE OUT
+XXI. IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+PART IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+XXII. THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+Westward, along the level prairies of a kingdom yet to be, my memory
+runs, with a clear vision of the days when romance died not and strong
+hearts never failed. The glamour of the plains is before my eyes; the
+tingle of courage, danger-born, is in my pulse-beat; the soft hand of
+love is touching my hand. I live again the drama of life wherein there
+are no idle actors, no stale, unmeaning lines. And beyond the action,
+this way _up_ the years, there runs also the forward-gazing vision
+toward a new Hesperides:
+
+
+       Through the veins
+  Of whose vast Empire flows, in strength'ning tides,
+  Trade, the calm health of nations.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+       And sometimes I would doubt
+  If statesmen, rocked and dandled into power,
+  Could leave such legacies to kings.
+
+
+
+I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE SANTA FÉ TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+
+
+  There came a time in the law of life
+    When over the nursing sod
+  The shadows broke, and the soul awoke
+    In a strange, dim dream of God.
+ --LANGDON SMITH.
+
+
+It might have been but yesterday that I saw it all: the glinting
+sunlight on the yellow Missouri boiling endlessly along at the foot of
+the bluff; the flood-washed sands across the river; the tangle of tall,
+coarse weeds fringing them, edged by the scrubby underbrush. And beyond
+that the big trees of the Missouri woodland, so level against the
+eastern horizon that I used to wonder if I might not walk upon their
+solid-looking tops if I could only reach them. I wondered, too, why the
+trees on our side of the river should vary so in height when those in
+the eastern distance were so evenly grown. One day I had asked Jondo the
+reason for this, and had learned that it was because of the level ground
+on the farther side of the valley. I began then to love the level places
+of the earth. I love them still. And, always excepting that one titanic
+rift, where the world stands edgewise, with the sublimity of the
+Almighty shimmering through its far depths, I love them more than any
+other thing that nature has yet offered to me.
+
+But to come back to that picture of yesterday: old Fort Leavenworth on
+the bluff; the little and big ravines that billow the landscape about
+it; the faint lines of trails winding along the hillsides toward the
+southwest; the unclouded skies so everlastingly big and intensely blue;
+and, hanging like a spray of glorious blossoms flung high above me, the
+swaying folds of the wind-caressed flag, now drooping on its tall staff,
+now swelling full and free, straight from its gripping halyards.
+
+Between me and the fort many people were passing to and fro, some of
+whom were to walk with me down the long trail of years. Evermore that
+April day stands out as the beginning of things for me. Dim are the days
+behind it, a jumble of happy childish hours, each keen enough as the
+things of childhood go; but from that one day to the present hour the
+unforgotten deeds of busy years run clearly in my memory as I lift my
+pen to write somewhat of their dramatic record.
+
+And that this may not seem all a backward gaze, let me face about and
+look forward from the beginning--a stretch of canvas, lurid sometimes,
+sometimes in glorious tinting, sometimes intensely dark, with rifts of
+lightning cleaving through its blackness. But nowhere dull, nowhere
+without design in every brush-stroke.
+
+I had gone out on the bluff to watch for the big fish that Bill Banney,
+a young Kentuckian over at the fort, had told me were to be seen only on
+those April days when the Missouri was running north instead of south.
+And that when little boys kept very still, the fish would come out of
+the water and play leap-frog on the sand-bars.
+
+If I failed to see them this morning, I meant to run back to the
+parade-ground and play leap-frog myself with my cousin Beverly, who
+wanted proof for most of Bill Banney's stories. Beverly was growing wise
+and lanky for his age. I was still chubby, and in most things innocent,
+and inclined to believe all that I heard, or I should not have been
+taken in by that fish story.
+
+We were orphans with no recollection of any other home than the log
+house near the fort. We had been fathered and mothered by our uncle,
+Esmond Clarenden, owner of the little store across the square from our
+house, and a larger establishment down at Independence on the Missouri
+River.
+
+Always a wonderful man to me was that Esmond Clarenden, product of one
+of the large old New England colleges. He found time to guard our young
+years with the same diplomatic system by which he controlled all of his
+business affairs. He laid his plans carefully and never swerved from
+carrying them through afterward; he insisted on order in everything; he
+rendered value for value in his contracts; he chose his employees
+carefully, and trusted them fully; he had a keen sense of humor, a
+genial spirit of good-will, and he loved little children. Fitted as he
+was by culture and genius to have entered into the greater opportunities
+of the Eastern States, he gave himself to the real up-building of the
+West, and in the larger comfort and prosperity and peace of the Kansas
+prairies of to-day his soul goes marching on.
+
+The waters, as I watched them, were all running south toward that vague,
+down-stream world shut off by trees at a bend of the course. I waited a
+long time there for the current to shift to the north, wondering
+meanwhile about those level-topped forests, and what I might see beyond
+them if I were sitting on their flat crests. And, as I wondered, the
+first dim sense of being _shut in_ came filtering through my childish
+consciousness. I could not cross the river. Big as my playground had
+always been, I had never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff
+up-stream, nor down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the
+southwest. What lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and
+again. I had been a dreamer all of my short life, and this new feeling
+of being shut in, held back, from something slipped upon me easily.
+
+As I sat on the bluff in the April sunshine, I turned my face toward
+the west and stretched out my chubby arms for larger freedom. I wanted
+to _see the open level places_, wanted till it hurt me. I could cry
+easily enough for some things. I could not cry for this. It was too deep
+for tears to reach. Moreover, this new longing seemed to drop down on me
+suddenly and overwhelm me, until I felt almost as if I were caught in a
+net.
+
+As I stared with half-seeing eyes toward the wooded ravines beyond the
+fort, suddenly through the budding branches I caught sight of a horseman
+riding down a half-marked trail into a deep hollow. Horsemen were common
+enough to forget in a moment, but when this one reappeared on the hither
+side of the ravine, I saw that the rider's face was very dark, that his
+dress, from the sombrero to the spurred heel, was Mexican, and that he
+was heavily armed, even for a plainsman. When he reached the top of the
+bluff he made straight across the square toward my uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's little storehouse, and I lost sight of him.
+
+Something about him seemed familiar to me, for the gift of remembering
+faces was mine, even then. A fleeting childish memory called up such a
+face and dress somewhere back in the dim days of babyhood, with the
+haunting sound of a low, musical voice, speaking in the soft Castilian
+tongue.
+
+But the memory vanished and I sat a long time gazing at the wooded west
+that hid the open West of my day-dreams.
+
+Suddenly Jondo came riding up on his big black horse to the very edge
+of the bluff.
+
+"You are such a little mite, I nearly forgot to see you," he called,
+cheerily. "Your Uncle Esmond wants you right away. Mat Nivers, or
+somebody else, sent me to run you down," he added, leaning over to lift
+me up to a seat on the horse behind him.
+
+Few handsomer men ever graced a saddle. Big, broad-shouldered, muscular,
+yet agile, a head set like a Greek statue, and a face--nobody could ever
+make a picture of Jondo's face for me--the curling brown hair, soft as a
+girl's, the broad forehead, deep-set blue eyes, heavy dark brow, cheeks
+always ruddy through the plain's tan, strong white teeth, firm square
+chin, and a smile like sunshine on the gray prairies. Eyes, lips,
+teeth--aye, the big heart behind them--all made that smile. No grander
+prince of men ever rode the trails or dared the dangers of the untamed
+West. I did not know his story for many years. I wish I might never have
+known it. But as he began with me, so he ended--brave, beloved old
+Jondo!
+
+Down on the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden and Mat Nivers were sitting
+with their feet crossed under them, tailor fashion, facing each other
+and talking earnestly. Over by the fort, Esmond Clarenden stood under a
+big elm-tree. A round little, stout little man he was, whose sturdy
+strength and grace of bearing made up for his lack of height. Like a
+great green tent the boughs of the elm, just budding into leaf, drooped
+over him. A young army officer on a cavalry horse was talking with him
+as we came up.
+
+"Run over there to Beverly now. Gail," my uncle said, with a wave of his
+hand.
+
+I was always in awe of shoulder-straps, so I scampered away toward the
+children. But not until, child-like, I had stared at the three men long
+enough to take a child's lasting estimate of things.
+
+I carry still the keen impression of that moment when I took,
+unconsciously, the measure of the three: the mounted army man, commander
+of the fort, big in his official authority and force; Jondo on his great
+black horse, to me the heroic type of chivalric courage; and between the
+two, Esmond Clarenden, unmounted, with feet firmly planted, suggesting
+nothing heroic, nothing autocratic. And yet, as he stood there,
+square-built, solid, certain, he seemed in some dim way to be the real
+man of whom the other two were but shadows. It took a quarter of a
+century for me to put into words what I learned with one glance that day
+in my childhood.
+
+As I came running toward the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, Gail! Shut your little mouth and open your big ears, and
+I'll tell you something. Maybe I'd better not tell you all at once,
+though. It might make you dizzy," he added, teasingly.
+
+"And maybe you better had," Mat Nivers said, calmly.
+
+"Maybe you'd better tell him yourself, if you feel that way," Beverly
+retorted.
+
+"I guess I'll do that," Mat began, with a twinkle in her big gray eyes;
+but my cousin interrupted her.
+
+Beverly loved to tease Mat through me, but he never got far, for I
+relied on her to curb him; and she was not one to be ruffled by trifles.
+Mat was an orphan and, like ourselves, a ward of Esmond Clarenden, but
+there were no ties of kinship between us. She was three years older than
+Beverly, and although she was no taller than he, she seemed like a woman
+to me, a keen-witted, good-natured child-woman, neat, cleanly, and
+contented. I wonder if many women get more out of life in these days of
+luxurious comforts than she found in the days of frontier hardships.
+
+"Well, it's this way, Gail. Mat doesn't know the straight of it,"
+Beverly began, dramatically. "There's going to be a war, or something,
+in Mexico, or somewhere, and a lot of soldiers are coming here to drill,
+and drill, and drill. And then--"
+
+The boy paused for effect.
+
+"And then, and then, _and_ then--or some time," Mat Nivers mimicked,
+jumping into the pause. "Why, they'll go to Mexico, or somewhere. And
+what Bev is really trying to tell hasn't anything to do with it--not
+directly, anyhow," she added, wisely. "The only new thing is that Uncle
+Esmond is going to Santa Fé right away. You know he has bought goods of
+the Santa Fé traders since we couldn't remember. And now he's going down
+there himself, and he's going to take you boys with him. That's what
+Bev is trying to get out, or keep back."
+
+"Whoopee-diddle-dee!" Beverly shouted, throwing himself backward and
+kicking up his heels.
+
+I jumped up and capered about in glee at the thought of such a journey.
+But my heart-throb of childish delight was checked, mid-beat.
+
+"Won't Mat go, too?" I asked, with a sudden pain at my throat. Mat
+Nivers was a part of life to me.
+
+The smile fell away from the girl's lips. Her big, sunshiny gray eyes
+and her laughing good nature always made her beautiful to Beverly and
+me.
+
+"I don't want to go and leave Mat," I insisted.
+
+"Oh, I do," Beverly declared, boastingly. "It would be real nice and
+jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out on the
+prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were shooting
+Indians?"
+
+He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and arrow.
+But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered a sob.
+
+"She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden, and,
+besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo, and I reckon
+he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.
+
+Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of the
+orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the championship
+of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond Clarenden, who said little
+to children, and was instinctively trusted by all of them.
+
+With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes. It was
+never lost from them long at a time.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you keep _your_ little mouth shut and _your_ big
+ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the whole sheboodle better 'n
+any of you, and I'm not teasing and whimpering both at the same time,
+neither. Bev doesn't know anything except what I've told him, and I
+wasn't through when you got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war
+in Texas, and our soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look
+up at that flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars
+and Stripes go they _stay_."
+
+"Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied, pulling
+down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond hasn't
+anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he has been doing
+here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a merchant, and I guess he's
+just about as good as a general--a colonel, anyhow. But he's too short
+to fight, and too fat to run."
+
+"He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.
+
+"Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men that
+keeps things going everywhere."
+
+"I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
+straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he came
+here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war in
+Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa Fé, even if Uncle
+Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all a girl knows about
+things," Beverly insisted.
+
+Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked straight at the boy.
+
+"I don't pretend to know what I don't know, but I'll bet a million
+billion dollars there is something else besides just all this war stuff.
+I can't tell it, I just feel it. Anyhow, I'm to stay here with Aunty
+Boone till you come back. Girls can be trusted anywhere, but it may take
+the whole Army of the West, yet, to follow up and look after two little
+runty boys. And let me tell _you_ something, Bev, something I heard
+Aunty Boone say this morning." She said: "Taint goin' to be more 'n a
+minnit now till them boys grows up an' grows together, same size, same
+age. They been little and big, long as they goin' to be. Now you know
+what you're coming to."
+
+Mat was digging in the ground with a stick, and she flipped a clod at
+Beverly with the last words. Both of us had once expected to marry her
+when we grew up, unless Jondo should carry her away as his bride before
+that time. He was a dozen years older than Mat, who was only fourteen
+and small for her age. A flush always came to her cheeks when we talked
+of Jondo in that way. We didn't know why.
+
+We sat silent for a little while. A vague sense of desolateness, of the
+turning-places of life, as real to children as to older folk, seemed to
+press suddenly down upon all three of us. Ours was not the ordinary
+child-life even of that day. And that was a time when children had no
+world of their own as they have to-day. Whatever developed men and women
+became a part of the younger life training as well. And while we were
+ignorant of much that many children then learned early, for we had lived
+mostly beside the fort on the edge of the wilderness, we were alert, and
+self-dependent, fearless and far-seeing. We could use tools readily: we
+could build fires and prepare game for cooking; we could climb trees,
+set traps, swim in the creek, and ride horses. Moreover, we were bound
+to one another by the force of isolation and need for playmates. Our
+imagination supplied much that our surroundings denied us. So we felt
+more deeply, maybe, than many city-bred children who would have paled
+with fear at dangers that we only laughed over.
+
+No ripple in the even tenor of our days, however, had given any hint of
+the coming of this sudden tense oppression on our young souls, and we
+were stunned by what we could neither express nor understand.
+
+"Whatever comes or doesn't come," Beverly said at last, stretching
+himself at full length, stomach downward, on the bare ground, "whatever
+happens to us, we three will stand by each other always and always,
+won't we, Mat?"
+
+He lifted his face to the girl's. Oh, Beverly! I saw him again one day
+down the years, stretched out on the ground like this, lifting again a
+pleading face. But that belongs--down the years.
+
+"Yes, always and always," Mat replied, and then because she had a
+Spartan spirit, she added: "But let's don't say any more that way. Let's
+think of what you are going to see--the plains, the Santa Fé Trail, the
+mountains, and maybe bad Indians. And even old Santa Fé town itself. You
+are in for 'the big shift,' as Aunty Boone says, and you've got to be
+little men and take whatever comes. It will come fast enough, you can
+bet on that."
+
+Yesterday I might have sobbed on her shoulder. I did not know then that
+out on the bluff an hour ago I had come to the first turn in my
+life-trail, and that I could not look back now. I did know that I
+_wanted to go with Uncle Esmond._ I looked away from Mat's gray eyes,
+and Beverly's head dropped on his arms, face downward--looked at nothing
+but blue sky, and a graceful drooping flag; nothing but a half-sleepy,
+half-active fort; nothing but the yellow April floods far up-stream,
+between wooded banks tenderly gray-green in the spring sunshine. But I
+did not see any of these things then. Before my eyes there stretched a
+vast level prairie, with dim mountain heights beyond them. And marching
+toward them westward, westward, past lurking danger, Indians here and
+wild beasts there, went three men: the officer on his cavalry mount;
+Jondo on his big black horse; Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor on
+foot, it seemed, but going forward somehow. And between these three and
+the misty mountain peaks there was a face--not Mat Nivers's, for the
+first time in all my day-dreams--a sweet face with dark eyes looking
+straight into mine. And plainly then, just as plainly as I have heard it
+many times since then, came a call--the first clear bugle-note of the
+child-soul--a call to service, to patriotism, and to love.
+
+All that afternoon while Mat Nivers sang about her tasks Beverly and I
+tried to play together among the elm and cottonwood trees about our
+little home, but evening found us wide awake and moping. Instead of the
+two tired little sleepy-heads that could barely finish supper, awake,
+when night came, we lay in our trundle-bed, whispering softly to each
+other and staring at the dark with tear-wet eyes--our spiritual
+barometers warning us of a coming change. Something must have happened
+to us that night which only the retrospect of years revealed. In that
+hour Beverly Clarenden lost a year of his life and I gained one. From
+that time we were no longer little and big to each other--we were
+comrades.
+
+It must have been nearly midnight when I crept out of bed and slipped
+into the big room where Uncle Esmond and Jondo sat by the fireplace,
+talking together.
+
+"Hello, little night-hawk! Come here and roost," Jondo said, opening his
+arms to me.
+
+I slid into their embrace and snuggled my head against his broad
+shoulder, listening to all that was said. Three months later the little
+boy had become a little man, and my cuddling days had given place to
+the self-reliance of the fearless youngster of the trail.
+
+"Why do you make this trip now, Esmond?" Jondo asked at length, looking
+straight into my uncle's face.
+
+"I want to get down there right now because I want to get a grip on
+trade conditions. I can do better after the war if I do. It won't last
+long, and we are sure to take over a big piece of ground there when it
+is over. And when that is settled commerce must do the real building-up
+of the country. I want to be a part of that thing and grow with it. Why
+do you go with me?"
+
+My uncle looked directly at Jondo, although he asked the question
+carelessly.
+
+"To help you cross the plains. You know the redskins get worse every
+trip," Jondo answered, lightly.
+
+I stared at both of them until Jondo said, laughingly:
+
+"You little owl, what are you thinking about?"
+
+"I think you are telling each other stories," I replied, frankly.
+
+For somehow their faces made me think of Beverly's face out on the
+parade-ground that morning, when he had lifted it and looked at Mat
+Nivers; and their voices, deep bass as they were, sounded like Beverly's
+voice whispering between his sobs, before he went to sleep.
+
+Both men smiled and said nothing. But when I went to my bed again Jondo
+tucked the covers about me and Uncle Esmond came and bade me good
+night.
+
+"I guess you have the makings of a plainsman," he said, with a smile, as
+he patted me on the head.
+
+"The beginnings, anyhow," Jondo added. "He can see pretty far already."
+
+For a long time I lay awake, thinking of all that Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+had said to me. It is no wonder that I remember that April day as if it
+were but yesterday. Such days come only to childhood, and oftentimes
+when no one of older years can see clearly enough to understand the
+bigness of their meaning to the child who lives through them.
+
+All of my life I had heard stories of the East, of New York and St.
+Louis, where there were big houses and wonderful stores. And of
+Washington, where there was a President, and a Congress, and a strange
+power that could fill and empty Fort Leavenworth at will. I had heard of
+the Great Lakes, and of cotton-fields, and tobacco-plantations, and
+sugar-camps, and ships, and steam-cars. I had pictured these things a
+thousand times in my busy imagination and had longed to see them. But
+from that day they went out of my life-dreams. Henceforth I belonged to
+the prairies of the West. No one but myself took account of this, nor
+guessed that a life-trend had had its commencement in the small events
+of one unimportant day.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+
+
+  One stone the more swings to her place
+    In that dread Temple of Thy worth;
+  It is enough that through Thy grace
+    I saw naught common on Thy earth.
+
+
+The next morning I was wakened by the soft voice of Aunty Boone, our
+cook, saying:
+
+"You better get up! Revilly blow over at the fort long time ago. Wonder
+it didn't blow your batter-cakes clear away. Mat and Beverly been up
+since 'fore sunup."
+
+Aunty Boone was the biggest woman I have ever seen. Not the tallest,
+maybe--although she measured up to a height of six feet and two
+inches--not the fattest, but a woman with the biggest human frame,
+overlaid with steel-hard muscles. Yet she was not, in her way, clumsy or
+awkward. She walked with a free stride, and her every motion showed a
+powerful muscular control. Her face was jet-black, with keen shining
+eyes, and glittering white teeth. In my little child-world she was the
+strangest creature I had ever known. In the larger world whither the
+years of my manhood have led me she holds the same place.
+
+She had been born a princess of royal blood, heir to a queenship in her
+tribe in a far-away African kingdom. In her young womanhood, so the tale
+ran, the slave-hunter had found her and driven her aboard a slave-ship
+bound for the American coast. He never drove another slave toward any
+coast. In Virginia her first purchaser had sold her quickly to a Georgia
+planter whose _heirs_ sent her on to Mississippi. Thence she soon found
+her way to the Louisiana rice-fields. Nobody came to take her back to
+any place she had quitted. "Safety first," is not a recent practice. She
+had enormous strength and capacity for endurance, she learned rapidly,
+kept her own counsel, obeyed no command unless she chose to do so, and
+feared nothing in the Lord's universe. The people of her own race had
+little in common with her. They never understood her and so they feared
+her. And being as it were outcast by them, she came to know more of the
+ways and customs, and even the thoughts, of the white people better than
+of her own. Being quick to imitate, she spoke in the correcter language
+of those whom she knew best, rather than the soft, ungrammatical dialect
+of the plantation slave or the grunt and mumble of the isolated African.
+Realizing that service was to be her lot, she elected to render that
+service where and to whom she herself might choose.
+
+One day she had walked into New Orleans and boarded a Mississippi
+steamer bound for St. Louis. It took three men to eject her bodily from
+the deck into a deep and dangerous portion of the stream. She swam
+ashore, and when the steamer made its next stop she walked aboard again.
+The three men being under the care of a physician, and the remainder of
+the crew burdened with other tasks, she was not again disturbed. Some
+time later she appeared at the landing below Fort Leavenworth, and
+strode up the slope to the deserted square where Esmond Clarenden stood
+before his little store alone in the deepening twilight.
+
+I have heard that she had had a way of appearing suddenly, like a beast
+of prey, in the dusk of the evening, and that few men cared to meet her
+at that time alone.
+
+My uncle was a snug-built man, sixty-two inches high, with small,
+shapely hands and feet. Towering above him stood this great, strange
+creature, barefooted, ragged, half tiger, half sphinx.
+
+"I'm hungry. I'll eat or I kill. I'm nobody's slave!"
+
+The soft voice was full of menace, the glare of famine and fury was in
+the burning eyes, and the supple cruelty of the wild beast was in the
+clenched hands.
+
+Esmond Clarenden looked up at her with interest. Then pointing toward
+our house he said, calmly:
+
+"Neither are you anybody's master. Go over there to the kitchen and get
+your supper. If you can cook good meals, I'll pay you well. If you
+can't, you'll leave here."
+
+Possibly it was the first time in her strange and varied career that she
+had taken a command kindly, and obeyed because she must. And so the
+savage African princess, the terror of the terrible slave-ship, the
+untamed plantation scourge, with a record for deeds that belong to
+another age and social code, became the great, silent, faithful,
+fearless servant of the plains; with us, but never of us, in all the
+years that followed. But she fitted the condition of her day, and in her
+place she stood, where the beloved black mammy of a gentler mold would
+have fallen.
+
+She announced that her name was Daniel Boone, which Uncle Esmond
+considered well enough for one of such a westward-roving nature. But
+Jondo declared that the "Daniel" belonged to her because, like unto the
+Bible Daniel, no lion, nor whole den of lions, would ever dine at her
+expense. To us she became Aunty Boone. With us she was always
+gentle--docile, rather; and one day we came to know her real measure,
+and--we never forgot her.
+
+I bounced out of bed at her call this morning, and bounced my breakfast
+into a healthy, good-natured stomach. The sunny April of yesterday had
+whirled into a chilly rain, whipped along by a raw wind. The skies were
+black and all the spring verdure was turned to a sickish gray-green.
+
+"Weather always fit the times," Aunty Boone commented as she heaped my
+plate with the fat buckwheat cakes that only she could ever turn off a
+griddle. "You packin' up for somepin' now. What you goin' to get is
+fo'casted in this here nasty day."
+
+"Why, we _are_ going away!" I cried, suddenly recalling the day before.
+"I wish, though, that Mat could go. Wouldn't you like to go, too, Aunty?
+Only, Bev says there's deserts, where there's just rocks and sand and
+everything, and no water sometimes. You and Mat couldn't stand that
+'cause you are women-folks."
+
+I stiffened with importance and clutched my knife and fork hard.
+
+"Couldn't!" Aunty Boone gave a scornful grunt. "Women-folks stands
+double more 'n men. You'll see when you get older. I know about you
+freightin' off to Santy Fee. _You_ don't know what desset is. _You_
+never _see sand_. You never _feel_ what it is to _want watah_. Only
+folks 'cross the ocean in the real desset knows that. Whoo-ee!"
+
+I remembered the weird tales she had told us of her girlhood--tales that
+had thrilled me with wonder--told sometimes in the twilight, sometimes
+by the kitchen fire on winter nights, sometimes on long, still,
+midsummer afternoons when the air quivered with heat and the Missouri
+hung about hot sand-bars, half asleep.
+
+"What do you know about this trip, Aunty Boone?" I asked, eagerly; for
+although she could neither read nor write, she had a sponge-like
+absorbing power for keeping posted on all that happened at the fort.
+
+"Cla'n'den"--the woman never called my uncle by any other name--"he's
+goin' to Santy Fee, an' you boys with him, 'cause--"
+
+She paused and her shining eyes grew dull as they had a way of doing in
+her thoughtful or prophetic moments.
+
+"He knows what for--him an' Jondo. One of 'em's storekeeper an' t'other
+a plainsman, but they tote together always--an' they totin' now. You
+can't see what, but they totin', they totin', just the same. Now run out
+to the store. Things is stirrin'. Things is stirrin'."
+
+I bolted my cakes, sodden with maple syrup, drank my mug of milk, and
+hurried out toward the storehouse.
+
+Fort Leavenworth in the middle '40's was sometimes an indolent place,
+and sometimes a very busy one, depending upon the activity of the
+Western frontier. On this raw April morning everything was fairly ajerk
+with life and motion. And I knew from child-experience that a body of
+soldiers must be coming up the river soon. Horses were rushed to-day
+where yesterday they had been leisurely led. Orders were shouted now
+that had been half sung a week ago. Military discipline took the place
+of fatigue attitudes. There was a banging of doors, a swinging of
+brooms, a clatter of tin, and a clanging of iron things. And everywhere
+went that slapping wind. And every shallow place in the ground held a
+chilly puddle. The government buildings always seemed big and bare and
+cold to me. And this morning they seemed drearier than ever, beaten upon
+by the fitful swish of the rain.
+
+In contrast with these were my uncle's snug quarters, for warmth was a
+part of Esmond Clarenden's creed. I used to think that the little
+storeroom, filled with such things as a frontier fort could find use
+for, was the biggest emporium in America, and the owner thereof suffered
+nothing, in my eyes, in comparison with A.T. Stewart, the opulent New
+York merchant of his day.
+
+As I ran, bareheaded and coatless, across the wide wet space between our
+home and the storehouse a soldier came dashing by on horseback. I dodged
+behind him only to fall sprawling in a slippery pool under the very feet
+of another horseman, riding swiftly toward the boat-landing.
+
+Neither man paid any attention to me as I slowly picked myself up and
+started toward the store. The soldier had not seen me at all. The other
+man's face was dark, and he wore the dress of the Mexican. It was only
+by his alertness and skill that his horse missed me, but as he hurried
+away he gave no more heed to me than if I had been a stone in his path.
+
+I had turned my ankle in the fall and I could only limp to the
+storehouse and drop down inside. I would not cry out, but I could not
+hold back the sobs as I tried to stand, and fell again in a heap at
+Jondo's feet.
+
+"Things were stirrin'" there, as Aunty Boone had said, but withal there
+was no disorder. Esmond Clarenden never did business in that way. No
+loose ends flapped about his rigging, and when a piece of work was
+finished with him, there was nothing left to clear away. Bill Banney,
+the big grown-up boy from Kentucky, who, out of love of adventure, had
+recently come to the fort, was helping Jondo with the packing of certain
+goods. Mat and Beverly were perched on the counter, watching all that
+was being done and hearing all that was said.
+
+"What's the matter, little plainsman?" Jondo cried, catching me up and
+setting me on the counter. "Got a thorn in your shoe, or a stone-bruise,
+or a chilblain?"
+
+"I slipped out there behind a soldier on horseback, right in front of a
+little old Mexican who was just whirling off to the river," I said, the
+tears blinding my eyes.
+
+"Why, he's turned his ankle! Looks like it was swelling already," Mat
+Nivers declared, as she slid from the counter and ran toward me.
+
+"It's a bad job," Jondo declared. "Just when we want to get off, too."
+
+"Can't I go with you to Santa Fé, Uncle Esmond?" I wailed.
+
+"Yes, Gail, we'll fix you up all right," my uncle said, but his face was
+grave as he examined my ankle.
+
+It was a bad job, much worse than any of us had thought at first. And as
+they all gathered round me I suddenly noticed the same Mexican standing
+in the doorway, and I heard some one, I think it was Uncle Esmond, say:
+
+"Jondo, you'd better take Gail over to the surgeon right away--" His
+voice trailed off somewhere and all was blank nothingness to me. But my
+last impression was that my uncle stayed behind with the strange
+Mexican.
+
+In the excitement everybody forgot that I had on neither hat nor coat as
+they carried me through the raw wet air to the army surgeon's quarters
+beyond the soldiers' barracks.
+
+A chill and fever followed, and for a week there was only pain and
+trouble for me. Nothing else hurt quite so deeply, however, as the fear
+of being left behind when the Clarendens should start for Santa Fé. I
+would ask no questions, and nobody mentioned the trip, for which
+everything was preparing. I began at last to have a dread of being left
+in the night, of wakening some morning to find only Mat and myself with
+Aunty Boone in the little log house. Uncle Esmond had already been away
+for three days, but nobody told me where he had gone, nor why he went,
+nor when he would come back. It kept me awake at night, and the loss of
+sleep made me nervous and feverish.
+
+One afternoon about a week after my accident, when Beverly and Mat were
+putting the room in order and chattering like a couple of squirrels,
+Beverly said, carelessly:
+
+"Gail, it's been a half a week since Uncle Esmond went down to our other
+store in Independence, and we are going to start on our trip just as
+soon as he gets back, unless he sends for me and Jondo."
+
+I knew that he was trying to tell me that they meant to go without me,
+for he hurried out with the last words. No boy wants to talk to a
+disappointed boy, and I had to clinch my teeth hard to keep back the
+tears.
+
+"I want to get well quicker, Mat. I want to go to Santa Fé with
+Beverly," I wailed, making a desperate effort to get out of bed.
+
+"You cuddle right down there, Gail Clarenden, if you want to get well at
+all. If you're real careful you'll be all right in a day or two. Let's
+wait for Uncle Esmond to come home before we start any worries."
+
+It was in her voice, girl or woman, that comforting note that could
+always soothe me.
+
+"Mat, won't you try to get them to let me go?" I pleaded.
+
+She made no promises, but busied herself with getting my foot into its
+place again, singing softly to herself all the while. Then she read me
+stories from our few story-books till I fell asleep.
+
+It was twilight when I wakened. Where I lay I could hear Esmond
+Clarenden and Aunty Boone talking in the kitchen, and I listened eagerly
+to all they said.
+
+"But it's no place for a woman," my uncle was urging, gravely.
+
+"I ain't a woman, I'm a cook. You want cooks if you eats. Mat ain't a
+woman, she's a girl. But she's stronger 'n Beverly. If you can't leave
+him, how can you leave her? An' Gail never get well if he's left here,
+Cla'n'den, now he's got the goin' fever. Never! An' if you never got
+back--"
+
+"I don't believe he would get well, either." Then Uncle Esmond spoke
+lower and I could not hear any more.
+
+Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing in
+together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in with them,
+and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment.
+
+"We are all going to Santa Fé over the long trail. Every last gun of us.
+Aunty Boone, and Mat, and you, and me, and Jondo, and Uncle Esmond,
+rag-tag and bobtail. Whoop-ee-diddle-dee!" Beverly threw up his cap,
+and, catching Mat by the arms, they whirled around the room together.
+
+"Who says so, Bev?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Them as knows and bosses everything in this world. Jondo told me, and
+he's just the boss's shadow. Now guess who," Beverly replied.
+
+"It's all true, Gail," Mat assured me. "Esmond Clarenden _is_ going to
+Santa Fé in spite of 'war, pestilence, famine, and sword,' as my
+_History of the World_ says, and he _is_ going to take son Beverly, and
+son Gail to watch son Beverly; and Miss Mat Nivers to watch both of them
+and shoo Indians away; and Aunt Daniel Boone to scare the Mexicans into
+the Gulf of California, if they act ugly, see!"
+
+She capered about the room, and as she passed me she stooped and patted
+me on the forehead. I didn't want her to do that. I had taken a long
+jump away from little-boy-dom a week ago, but I was supremely content
+now that all of us were to take the long trail together.
+
+That evening while Mat and Beverly went to look after some fishing-lines
+they had set--Mat and Bev were always going fishing--and Jondo was down
+at the store, the officer in command of the fort came in. He paid no
+attention to me lying there, all eyes and ears whenever shoulder-straps
+were present.
+
+"What did you decide to do about the trip to Santa Fé?" he asked, as he
+tipped back in his chair and settled down to cigars and an evening chat.
+
+"We shall be leaving on the boat in the morning," my uncle replied.
+
+The colonel's chair came down with a crack. "You don't mean it!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"I told you a week ago that I would be starting as soon as possible,"
+Esmond Clarenden said, quietly.
+
+"But, man, the war is raging, simply raging, down in Mexico right now.
+Our division will be here to commence drill in a few weeks, and we start
+for the border in a few months. You are mad to take such a risk." The
+commander's voice rose.
+
+"We must go, that's all!" my uncle insisted.
+
+"We? We? Who the devil are 'we'? None of my companies mutinied, I hope."
+
+The words did not sound like a joke, and there was little humor in the
+grim face.
+
+"'We' means Jondo, Banney, a young fellow from Kentucky--" Uncle Esmond
+began.
+
+"Humph! Banney's father carried a gun at Fort Dearborn in 1812. I
+thought that young fellow came here for military service," the colonel
+commented, testily.
+
+"Rather say he came for adventure," Esmond Clarenden suggested.
+
+"He'll get a deuced lot of it in a hurry, if you persuade him off with
+you."
+
+A flush swept over Esmond Clarenden's face, but his good-natured smile
+did not fail as he replied:
+
+"I don't persuade anybody. The rest of the company are my two nephews
+and the little girl, my ward, with our cook, Daniel Boone, as
+commander-in-chief of the pots and pans and any Indian meat foolish
+enough to fall in her way."
+
+Then came the explosion. Powder would have cost less than the energy
+blown off there. The colonel stamped and swore, and sprang to his feet
+in opposition, and flung himself down in disgust.
+
+"Women and children!" he gasped. "Why do you sacrifice helpless innocent
+ones?"
+
+Just then Aunty Boone strode in carrying a log of wood as big as a man's
+body, which she deftly threw on the fire. As the flame blazed high she
+gave one look at the young officer sitting before it, and then walked
+out as silently and sturdily as she had entered. It was such a look as a
+Great Dane dog full of superiority and indifference might have given to
+a terrier puppy, and from where I lay I thought the military man's face
+took on a very strange expression.
+
+"I 'sacrifice my innocent ones,'" my uncle answered the query, "because
+they will be safer with me than anywhere else. Young as they are, there
+are some forces against them already."
+
+"Well, you are going to a perilous place, over a most perilous trail, in
+a most perilous time of national affairs, to meet such treacherously
+villainous men as New Mexico offers in her market-places right now? And
+all for the sake of the commerce of the plains? Why do you take such
+chances to do business with such people, Clarenden?"
+
+Esmond Clarenden had been staring at the burning logs in the big
+fireplace during this conversation. He turned now and faced the young
+army officer squarely as he said in that level tone that we children had
+learned long ago was final:
+
+"Colonel, I'd go straight to hell and do business with the devil himself
+if I had any business dealings with him."
+
+The colonel's face fell. Slowly he relighted his cigar, and leaned back
+again in his chair, and with that diplomacy that covers a skilful
+retreat he said, smilingly:
+
+"If any man west of the Missouri River ever could do that it would be
+you, Clarenden. By the holy Jerusalem, the military lost one grand
+commander when you chose a college instead of West Point, and the East
+lost one well-bred gentleman from its circles of commerce and culture
+when you elected to do business on the old Santa Fé Trail instead of
+Broadway. But I reckon the West will need just such men as you long
+after the frontier fort has become a central point in the country's
+civilized area. And, blast you, Clarenden, blast your very picture! No
+man can help liking you. Not even the devil if he had the chance. Not
+one man in ten thousand would dare to make that trip right now. You've
+got the courage of a colonel and the judgment of a judge. Go to Santa
+Fé! We may meet you coming back. If we do, and you need us, command us!"
+
+He gave a courteous salute, and the two began to talk of other things;
+among them the purposes that were bringing young men westward.
+
+"So Banney, right out of old blue-grassy Kentucky, is going to back out
+of here and go with you," the colonel remarked.
+
+"I've hired him to drive one team. It's a lark for him, but the army
+would be a lark just the same," Esmond Clarenden declared. "He says he
+is to kill rattlesnakes and Mexicans, while Jondo kills Indians and I
+sit tight on top of the bales of goods to keep the wind from blowing
+them away. And the boys are to be made bridle-wise, _plains-broke_ for
+future freighting. That's all that life means to him right now."
+
+I do not know what else was said, nor what I heard and what I dreamed
+after that. If this journey meant a lark to a grown-up boy, it meant a
+pilgrimage through fairyland to a young boy like myself.
+
+And so the new life opened to us; and if the way was fraught with
+hardship and danger, it also taught us courage and endurance. Nor must
+we be measured by the boy life of to-day. Children lived the grown-up
+life then. It was all there was for them to live.
+
+The yellow Missouri boiled endlessly along by the foot of the bluff. The
+flag flapped broadly in the strong breeze that blew in from the west;
+the square log house--the only home we had ever known--looked forlornly
+after us, with its two front windows with blinds half drawn, like two
+half-closed, watching eyes; the cottonwoods and elms, the tiny
+storehouse--everything--grew suddenly very dear to us. The fort
+buildings throwing long shadows in the early morning, the level-topped
+forests east of the Missouri River, and the budding woodland that
+overdraped the ravines to the west, even in their silence, seemed like
+sentient things, loving us, as we loved them.
+
+We children had gone all over the place before sunrise and touched
+everything, in token of good-by; from some instinct tarrying longest at
+the flagpole, where we threw kisses to the great, beautiful banner high
+above us. Now, at the moment of leaving all these familiar things of all
+our years, a choking pain came to our throats. Mat's eyes filled with
+tears and she looked resolutely forward. Beverly and I clutched hands
+and shut our teeth together, determined to overcome this home-grip on
+our hearts. Aunty Boone sat in a corner of the deck as the boat swung
+out into the stream, her eyes dull and unseeing. She never spoke of her
+thoughts, but I have wondered often, since that big day of my young
+years, if she might not have recalled other voyages: the slave-ship
+putting out to sea with the African shores fading behind her; and the
+big river steamer at the New Orleans dock where brutal hands had hurled
+her from the deck into the dangerous floods of the Mississippi. This was
+her third voyage, a brief run from Fort Leavenworth to Independence. She
+was apart from her fellow-passengers as in the other two, but now nobody
+gave her a curse, nor a blow.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WIDENING HORIZON
+
+
+  Whose furthest footsteps never strayed
+    Beyond the village of his birth,
+  Is but a lodger for the night
+    In this old Wayside Inn of Earth.
+
+
+The broad green prairies of the West roll back in huge billows from the
+Missouri bluffs, and ripple gently on, to melt at last into the level
+grassy plains sloping away to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Up
+and down these land-waves, and across these ripples, the old Santa Fé
+Trail, the slender pathway of a wilderness-bridging commerce, led out
+toward the great Southwest--a thousand weary miles--to end at last,
+where the narrow thoroughfare reached the primitive hostelry at the
+corner of the plaza in the heart of the capital of a Spanish-Mexican
+demesne.
+
+It was a strange old highway, tying the western frontier of a new,
+self-reliant American civilization to the eastern limit of an autocratic
+European offshoot, grafted upon an ancient Indian stock of the Western
+Hemisphere. In language, nationality, social code, political faith, and
+prevailing spiritual creed, the terminals of this highway were as
+unlike as their geographical naming. For the trail began at
+_Independence_, in Missouri, and ended at Santa Fé, the "_City of the
+Holy Faith_," in New Mexico.
+
+The little trading town of Independence was a busy place in the frontier
+years of the Middle West. Ungentle and unlovely as it was, it was the
+great gateway between the river traffic on the one side, and the plains
+commerce of the far Southwest on the other. At the wharf at Westport,
+only a few miles away, the steamers left their cargoes of flour and
+bacon, coffee and calicoes, jewelry and sugar--whatever might have a
+market value to merchants beyond the desert lands. And here these same
+steamers took on furs, and silver bullion, and such other produce of the
+mountains and mines and open plains as the opulently laden caravans had
+toiled through long days, overland, to bring to the river's wharf.
+
+To-day the same old gateway stands as of yore. But it may be given only
+to men who have seen what I have seen, to know how that our Kansas City,
+the Beautiful, could grow up from that old wilderness outpost of
+commerce threescore and more years ago.
+
+The Clarenden store was the busiest spot in the center of this busy
+little town. Goods from both lines of trade entered and cleared here. In
+front of the building three Conestoga wagons with stout mule teams stood
+ready. A fourth wagon, the Dearborn carriage of that time, filled
+mostly with bedding, clothing, and the few luxuries a long camping-out
+journey may indulge in, waited only for a team, and we would be off to
+the plains.
+
+Jondo and Bill Banney were busy with the last things to be done before
+we started. Aunty Boone sat on a pile of pelts inside the store, smoking
+her pipe. Beverly and Mat stood waiting in the big doorway, while I sat
+on a barrel outside, because my ankle was still a bit stiff. A crowd had
+gathered before the store to see us off. It was not such a company as
+the soldier-men at the fort. The outlaw, the loafer, the drunkard, the
+ruffian, the gambler, and the trickster far outnumbered the stern-faced
+men of affairs. When the balance turns the other way the frontier
+disappears. Mingling with these was a pale-faced invalid now and then,
+with the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.
+
+"What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled with men.
+
+"Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle Esmond
+hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know, but he rigged
+this littler wagon out in a twinkle."
+
+"That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us children are
+to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the driving," Mat added.
+
+Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.
+
+"How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd inquired.
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he replied.
+"I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm in a hurry."
+
+"What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They tell me
+things look squally out West."
+
+"All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
+returned.
+
+"They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of more
+mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving class who
+sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.
+
+"These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They are
+all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle said.
+
+Women and children did not cross the plains in those days, nor could
+public welfare allow that so valuable a piece of property as Aunty Boone
+would be in the slave-market should be lost to commerce, and the storm
+of protest that followed would have overcome a less determined man. It
+was not on account of sympathy for the weak and defenseless that called
+out all this abuse, but the lawless spirit that stirs up a mob on the
+slightest excuse.
+
+I slid away to the door, where, with Mat and Beverly, I watched Esmond
+Clarenden, who was listening with his good-natured smile to all of that
+loud street talk.
+
+"No man's life is insurable in these troublesome times, with our troops
+right now down in Mexico," a suave Southern trader urged. "Better sell
+your slave and put that nice little gal in a boardin'-school somewhere
+in the South."
+
+"I'll give you a mighty good bargain for that wench, Clarenden. She
+might be worth a clare fortune in New Orleans. What d'ye say to a cool
+thousand?" another man declared, with a slow. Southern drawl.
+
+Aunty Boone took the pipe from her lips and looked at the stranger.
+
+"Y'would!" she grunted, stretching her big right hand across her lap,
+like a huge paw with claws ready underneath.
+
+"Them plains Injuns never was more _hostile_ than they air right now. I
+just got in from the mountains an' I know. An' they're bein' set on by
+more _hostile_ Mexican devils, and political _intrigs_," a bearded
+mountaineer trapper argued.
+
+"'Sides all that," interposed the suave Southern gentleman, "it's too
+early in the spring. Freightin's bound to be delayed by rains--and a
+nice little gal with only a nigger--" He was not quite himself, and he
+did not try to say more.
+
+"Seems like some of these gentlemen consider you are some sort of a
+fool," a tall, lean Yankee youth observed, as he listened to the babble.
+
+I had climbed back on the barrel again to see the crowd better, and I
+stared at the last speaker. His voice was not unpleasant, but he
+appeared pale and weak and spiritless in that company of tanned, rugged
+men. Evidently he was an invalid in search of health. We children had
+seen many invalids, from time to time, at the fort harmless folk, who
+came to fuss, and stayed to flourish, in our gracious land of the open
+air.
+
+"You are a dam' fool," roared a big drunken loafer from the edge of the
+crowd. "An' I'd lick you in a minnit if you das step into the middle of
+the street onct. Ornery sneak, to take innocent children into such
+perils. Come on out here, I tell ye!"
+
+A growl followed these words. Many men in that company were less than
+half sober, and utterly irresponsible.
+
+"Le's jes' hang the fool storekeepin' gent right now; an' make a
+free-fur-all holiday. I'll begin," the drunken ruffian bawled. He was of
+the sort that always leads a mob.
+
+The growl deepened, for blood-lust and drunkenness go together.
+
+Terrified for my uncle's safety, I stood breathless, staring at the
+evil-faced crowd of men going suddenly mad, without excuse. At the
+farthest edge of the insipient mob, sitting on his horse and watching my
+uncle's face intently, was the very Mexican whom I had twice seen at
+Fort Leavenworth. At the drunken rowdy's challenge, I thought that he
+half-lifted a threatening hand. But Esmond Clarenden only smiled, with a
+mere turn of his head as if in disapproval. In that minute I learned my
+first lesson in handling ruffians. I knew that my uncle was not afraid,
+and because of that my faith in his power to take care of himself came
+back.
+
+"I want to leave here in half an hour. If you have any good
+plains-broke mules you will sell for cash, I can do business with you
+right now. If not, the sooner you leave this place the better."
+
+He lifted his small, shapely hand unclenched, his good-natured smile and
+gentlemanly bearing unchanged, but his low voice was stronger than all
+the growls of the crowd that fell back like whipped dogs.
+
+As he spoke a horse-dealer, seeing the gathering before the store, came
+galloping up.
+
+"I'm your man. Money talks so I can understand it. Wait five minutes and
+ten seconds and I'll bring a whole strand of mules."
+
+A rattling of wagons and roar of voices at the far end of the street
+told of the arrival of a company coming in from the wharf at Westport,
+and the crowd whirled about and made haste toward the next scene of
+interest.
+
+Only two men remained behind, the tall New England youth and the Mexican
+on the farther side of the street sitting motionless on his horse. A
+moment later he was gone, and the street was empty save for the
+pale-faced invalid who had come over to the doorway where Mat and
+Beverly and I waited together.
+
+"Why don't you youngsters stay home with your mother, or is she going
+with you?" he asked, a gleam of interest lighting his dull face as he
+looked at Mat Nivers.
+
+"We haven't any of us got a mother," Mat replied, timidly, lifting her
+gray eyes to his.
+
+"Mother! Ain't you all one family?" the young man questioned in
+surprise.
+
+"No, we are three orphan children that Uncle Esmond has adopted all our
+lives, I guess." Beverly informed him.
+
+A wave of sympathy swept over his face.
+
+"You poor, lonely, unhappy cubs! You've never had a mother to love you!"
+he exclaimed, in kindly pity.
+
+"We aren't poor nor lonely nor unhappy. We have always had Uncle Esmond
+and we didn't need a mother," I exclaimed, earnestly.
+
+The young man stared at me as I spoke. "What's he, a bachelor or married
+man?" he inquired.
+
+"He couldn't be married and keep us, I reckon, and he's taking us with
+him so nothing will happen to us while he's gone. He's really truly
+Bev's uncle and mine, but he's just the same as uncle to Mat, who hasn't
+anybody else," I declared, enthusiastically. Uncle Esmond was my pride,
+and I meant that he should be fully appreciated.
+
+The Yankee gazed at all three of us, his eyes resting longest on Mat's
+bright face. The listlessness left his own that minute and a new light
+shone on his countenance. But when he turned to my uncle the seeming
+lack of all interest in living returned to his face again.
+
+"Say," he drawled, looking down at the stubborn little merchant from his
+slim six feet of altitude, "you are such a dam' fool as our friend, the
+tipsy one, says, that I believe I'll go along 'cross the plains with
+you, if you'll let me. I've not got a darned thing to lose out there but
+a sick carcass that I'm pretty tired of looking after," he went on,
+wearily. "I reckon I might as well see the fun through if I never set a
+hoof on old Plymouth Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at
+Lexington. Say"--he paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the
+bean-eaters who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth,
+there wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
+tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men myself make
+the same claim. But my granddad was the real article in the minute-men
+business. And I've always admired his grit most of any man in the world.
+He was about your shape, I reckon, from his picture that old man Copley
+got out. But, man! he wasn't a patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the
+preposterous-est unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just
+straight murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
+plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico, and I
+like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If you will, I'll
+deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've got only a little wad
+of money to get well on or die on. I can spend it either way--not much
+difference which. My name is Krane, Rex Krane, and in spite of such a
+floopsy name I hail from Boston, U.S.A."
+
+There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth, redeemed only
+by the twinkle in his eye.
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated men
+easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.
+
+"I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want to
+turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles or more on
+the trail. You can try it that far and see how you like it. I'll furnish
+you your board. There are always plenty of bedrooms on the ground floor
+and in one of the wagons on rainy nights. You can take a shift driving a
+team now and then, and every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some
+of the time. You understand the dangers of the situation by this time.
+Here comes my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a
+string of mules up the street.
+
+"Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.
+
+"I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the bargain
+was closed.
+
+Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and Aunty
+Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.
+
+"You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.
+
+"Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
+Clarenden replied.
+
+But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the crowd
+had been. The foolish risk of losing so valuable a piece of property as
+Daniel Boone ought to be in the slave-market taxed his powers of
+understanding, profanity, and abuse.
+
+"Cussin' solid, an' in streaks," Aunty Boone chuckled, softly, as she
+listened to him unmoved.
+
+Equally unmoved was Esmond Clarenden. But his genial smile and
+diplomatic power of keeping still did not prevent him from being as set
+as the everlasting hills in his own purpose.
+
+"This here critter is all I'll sell you," the trader declared at last,
+pulling a big white-eyed dun animal out of the group. "An' nobody's
+goin' to drive her easy."
+
+"I'll take it," Uncle Esmond said, promptly, and the vicious-looking
+beast was brought to where Aunty Boone stood beside the wagon-tongue.
+
+It was a clear case of hate at first sight, for the mule began to plunge
+and squeal the instant it saw her. The woman hesitated not a minute, but
+lifting her big ham-like foot, she gave it one broadside kick that it
+must have mistaken for a thunderbolt, and in that low purr of hers, that
+might frighten a jungle tiger, she laid down the law of the journey.
+
+"You tote me to Santy Fee, or be a dead mule. Take yo' choice right now!
+Git up!"
+
+For fifty days the one dependable, docile servant of the Clarendens was
+the big dun mule, as gentle and kitten-like as a mule can be.
+
+And so, in spite of opposing conditions and rabble protest and doleful
+prophecy and the assurance of certain perils, we turned our faces
+toward the unfriendly land of the sunset skies, the open West of my
+childish day-dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The prairies were splashed with showers and the warm black soil was
+fecund with growths as our little company followed the windings of the
+old trail in that wondrous springtime of my own life's spring. There
+were eight of us: Clarenden, the merchant; Jondo, the big plainsman;
+Bill Banney, whom love of adventure had lured from the blue grass of
+Kentucky to the prairie-grass of the West; Rex Krane, the devil-may-care
+invalid from Boston; and the quartet of us in the "baby cab," as Beverly
+had christened the family wagon. Uncle Esmond had added three swift
+ponies to our equipment, which Jondo and Bill found time to tame for
+riding as we went along.
+
+We met wagon-trains, scouts, and solitary trappers going east, but so
+far as we knew our little company was the only westward-facing one on
+all the big prairies.
+
+"It's just like living in a fairy-story, isn't it, Gail?" Beverly said
+to me one evening, as we rounded a low hill and followed a deep little
+creek down to a shallow fording-place. "All we want is a real princess
+and a real giant. Look at these big trees all you can, for Jondo says
+pretty soon we won't see trees at all."
+
+"Maybe we'll have Indians instead of giants," I suggested. "When do you
+suppose we'll begin to see the real _bad_ Indians; not just Osages and
+Kaws and sneaky little Otoes and Pot'wat'mies like we've seen all our
+lives?"
+
+"Sooner than we expect," Beverly replied. "Could Mat Nivers ever be a
+real princess, do you reckon?"
+
+"I know she won't," I said, firmly, the vision of that fateful day at
+Fort Leavenworth coming back as I spoke--the vision of level green
+prairies, with gray rocks and misty mountain peaks beyond. And
+somewhere, between green prairies and misty peaks, a sweet child face
+with big dark eyes looking straight into mine. I must have been a
+dreamer. And in my young years I wondered often why things should be so
+real to me that nobody else could ever understand.
+
+"I used to think long ago at the fort that I'd marry Mat some day,"
+Beverly said, reminiscently, as if he were looking across a lapse of
+years instead of days.
+
+"So did I," I declared. "But I don't want to now. Maybe our princess
+will be at the end of the trail, Bev, a real princess. Still, I love Mat
+just as if she were my sister," I hastened to add.
+
+"So do I," Beverly responded, heartily.
+
+A little grain of pity for her loss of prestige was mingling with our
+subconscious feeling of a need for her help in the day of the giant, if
+not in the reign of the princess.
+
+We were trudging along behind our wagon toward the camping-place for the
+night, which lay beyond the crossing of the stream. We had lived much
+out of doors at Fort Leavenworth, but the real out of doors of this
+journey was telling on us already in our sturdy, up-leaping strength, to
+match each new hardship. We ate like wolves, slept like dead things, and
+forgot what it meant to be tired. And as our muscles hardened our minds
+expanded. We were no longer little children. Youth had set its seal upon
+us on the day when our company had started out from Independence toward
+the great plains of the Middle West. Little care had we for the
+responsibility and perils of such a journey; and because our thoughts
+were buoyant our bodies were vigorous.
+
+Our camp that night was under wide-spreading elm-trees whose roots
+struck deep in the deep black loam. After supper Mat and Beverly went
+down to fish in the muddy creek. Fishing was Beverly's sport and solace
+everywhere. I was to follow them as soon as I had finished my little
+chores. The men were scattered about the valley and the camp was
+deserted. Something in the woodsy greenness of the quiet spot made it
+seem like home to me--the log house among the elms and cottonwoods at
+the fort. As I finished my task I wondered how a big, fine house such as
+I had seen in pictures would look nestled among these beautiful trees. I
+wanted a home here some day, a real home. It was such a pleasant place
+even in its loneliness.
+
+To the west the ground sloped up gently toward the horizon-line,
+shutting off the track of the trail beyond the ridge. A sudden longing
+came over me to see what to-morrow's journey would offer, bringing back
+the sense of being _shut in_ that had made me lose interest in fishes
+that wouldn't play leap-frog on the sand-bars. And with it came a
+longing to be alone.
+
+Instead of following Mat and Beverly to the creek I went out to the top
+of the swell and stood long in the April twilight, looking beyond the
+rim of the valley toward the darkening prairies with the great splendor
+of the sunset's afterglow deepening to richest crimson above the
+purpling shadows.
+
+Oh, many a time since that night have I looked upon the Kansas plains
+and watched the grandeur of coloring that only the Almighty artist ever
+paints for human eyes. And always I come back, in memory, to that April
+evening. The soul of a man must have looked out through the little boy's
+eyes on that night, and a new mile-stone was set there, making a
+landmark in my life trail. For when I turned toward the darkening east
+and the shadowy camp where the evening fires gleamed redly in the dusk,
+I knew then, as well as I know now, if I could only have put it into
+words, that I was not the same little boy who had run up the long slope
+to see what lay next in to-morrow's journey.
+
+I walked slowly back to the camp and sat down beside Esmond Clarenden.
+
+"What are you thinking about, Gail?" he asked, as I stared at the fire.
+
+"I wish I knew what would happen next," I replied.
+
+Jondo was lying at full length on the grass, his elbow bent, and his
+hand supporting his head. What a wonderful head it was with its crown of
+softly curling brown hair!
+
+"I wonder if we have done wrong by the children, Clarenden," the big
+plainsman said, slowly.
+
+Uncle Esmond shook his head as he replied:
+
+"I can't believe it. They may not be safe with us, but we know they
+would not have been safe without us."
+
+Just then Beverly and Mat came racing up from the creek bank.
+
+"Let us stay up awhile," Mat pleaded. "Maybe we'll be less trouble some
+of these days if we hear you talk about what's coming."
+
+"They are right, Jondo. Gail here wants to know what is coming next, and
+Mat wants a share in our councils. What do you want, Beverly?"
+
+"I want to practise shooting on horseback. I can hit a mark now standing
+still. I want to do it on the run," Beverly replied.
+
+I can see now the earnest look in Esmond Clarenden's eyes as he
+listened. I've seen it in a mother's eyes more than once since then, as
+she kissed her eldest-born and watched it toddle off alone on its first
+day of school; or held her peace, when, breaking home ties, the son of
+her heart bade her good-by to begin life for himself in the world
+outside.
+
+The last light of day was lost over the western ridge. The moon was
+beginning to swell big and yellow through the trees. Twilight was
+darkening into night. Bill Banney and Rex Krane had joined us now, for
+every hour we were learning to keep closer together. Jondo threw more
+wood on the fire, and we nestled about it in snug, homey fashion as if
+we were to listen to a fairy-tale--three children slipping fast out of
+childhood into the stern, hard plains life that tried men's souls. As we
+listened, the older men told of the perils as well as the fascinating
+adventures of trail life, that we might understand what lay before us in
+the unknown days. And then they told us stories of the plains, and of
+the quaint historic things of Santa Fé; of El Palacio, home of all the
+Governors of New Mexico; an Indian pueblo first, it may have been
+standing there when William the Norman conquered Harold of the Saxon
+dynasty of England; or further back when Charlemagne was hanging heathen
+by the great great gross to make good Christians of them; or even when
+old Julius Cæsar came and saw and conquered, on either side of the
+Rubicon, this same old structure may have sheltered rulers in a world
+unknown. They told us of the old, old church of San Miguel, a citadel
+for safety from the savage foes of Spain, a sanctuary ever for the
+sinful and sorrowing ones. And of the Plaza--sacred ground whereon by
+ceremonial form had been established deeds that should change the
+destinies of tribes and shape the trend of national pride and power in a
+new continent. And of La Garita, place of execution, facing whose blind
+wall the victims of the Spanish rule made their last stand, and,
+helpless, fell pierced by the bullets of the Spanish soldiery.
+
+And we children looked into the dying camp-fire and builded there our
+own castles in Spain, and hoped that that old flag to which we had
+thrown good-by kisses such a little while ago would one day really wave
+above old Santa Fé and make it ours to keep. For, young as we were, the
+flag already symbolized to us the protecting power of a nation strong
+and gentle and generous.
+
+"The first and last law of the trail is to 'hold fast,'" Jondo said, as
+we broke up the circle about the camp-fire.
+
+"If you can keep that law we will take you into full partnership
+to-night," Esmond Clarenden added, and we knew that he meant what he
+said.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE MAN IN THE DARK
+
+
+  A stone's throw from either hand,
+  From that well-ordered road we tread,
+  And all the world is wide and strange.
+                              --KIPLING
+
+
+"We shall come to the parting of the ways to night if we make good time,
+Krane," Esmond Clarenden said to the young Bostonian, as we rested at
+noon beside the trait. "To-night we camp at Council Grove and from there
+on there is no turning back. I had hoped to find a big crowd waiting to
+start off from that place. But everybody we have met coming in says that
+there are no freighters going west now. Usually there is no risk in
+coming alone from Council Grove to the Missouri River, and there is
+always opportunity for company at this end of the trail."
+
+We were sitting in a circle under the thin shade of some
+cottonwood-trees beside a little stream; the air of noon, hot above our
+heads, was tempered with a light breeze from the southwest. As my uncle
+spoke, Rex glanced over at Mat Nivers, sitting beside him, and then
+gazed out thoughtfully across the stream. I had never thought her
+pretty before. But now her face, tanned by the sun and wind, had a
+richer glow on cheek and lip. Her damp hair lay in little wavelets about
+her temples, and her big, sunny, gray eyes were always her best feature.
+
+Girls made their own dresses on the frontier, and I suppose that
+anywhere else Mat would have appeared old-fashioned in the neat,
+comfortable little gowns of durable gingham and soft woolen stuffs that
+she made for herself. But somehow in all that long journey she was the
+least travel-soiled of the whole party.
+
+At my uncle's words she looked up questioningly and I saw the bloom
+deepen on her cheek as she met the young man's eyes. Somebody else saw
+that shadow of a blush--Bill Banney lying on the ground beside me, and
+although he pulled his hat cautiously over his face, I thought he was
+listening for the answer.
+
+The young New-Englander stared long at the green prairie before he
+spoke. I never knew whether it was ignorance, or a lack of energy, that
+was responsible for his bad grammar in those early days, for Rex Krane
+was no sham invalid. The lines on his young face told of suffering, and
+the thin, bony hands showed bodily weakness. At length he turned to my
+uncle.
+
+"I started out sort of reckless on this trip," he said, slowly. "I'm
+nearly twenty and never been worth a dang to anybody anywhere on God's
+earth; so I thought I might as well be where things looked interestin'.
+But"--he hesitated--"I'm gettin' a lot stronger every day, a whole lot
+stronger. Mebby I'd be of some use afterwhile--I don't know, though. I
+reckon I'd better wait till we get to that Council Grove place. Sounds
+like a nice locality to rest and think in. Are you goin' on, anyhow,
+Clarenden, crowd or no crowd?"
+
+"Though the heavens fall," my uncle answered, simply.
+
+Jondo had turned quickly to hear this reply and a great light leaped
+into his deep-set blue eyes. I glanced over at Aunty Boone, sitting
+apart from us, as she ever chose to do, her own eyes dull, as they
+always were when she saw keenest; and I remembered how, back at Fort
+Leavenworth, she had commented on this journey, saying: "They tote
+together always, an' they're totin' now." Child though I was, I felt
+that a something more than the cargo of goods was leading my uncle to
+Santa Fé. What I did not understand was his motive for taking Beverly
+and Mat and me with him. I had been satisfied before just to go, but now
+I wanted very much to know why I was going.
+
+Council Grove by the Neosho River was the end of civilization for the
+freighter. Beyond it the wilderness spread its untamed lengths, and
+excepting Bent's Fort far up the Arkansas River on the line of the first
+old trail, rarely followed now, it held not a sign of civilization for
+the traveler until he should reach the first outposts of the Mexican
+almost in the shadow of Santa Fé. It is no wonder that wagon-trains
+mobilized here, waiting for an increase in numbers before they dared to
+start on westward. And now there were no trains waiting for our coming.
+Only a gripping necessity could have led a man like Esmond Clarenden to
+take the trail alone in the certain perils of the plains during the
+middle '40's. I did not know until long afterward how brave was the
+loving heart that beat in that little merchant's bosom. A devotee of
+ease and refinement, he walked the prairie trails unafraid, and made the
+desert serve his will.
+
+The dusk of evening had fallen long before we pitched camp that night
+under the big oak-trees in the Neosho River valley outside of the little
+trading-post. Up in the village a light or two gleamed faintly. From
+somewhere in the darkness came the sound of a violin, mingling with loud
+talking and boisterous laughter in a distant drinking-den. It would be
+some time until moon-rise, and the shadowy places thickened to
+blackness.
+
+In fair weather all of us except Mat Nivers slept in the open. On stormy
+nights the younger men occupied one of the wagons, Jondo and Beverly
+another, and my uncle and myself the third. Mat had the "baby-cab" as
+Beverly called it, with Aunty Boone underneath it. The ground was Aunty
+Boone's kingdom. She sat upon it, ate from it, slept on it, and seemed
+no more soiled than a snake would be by the contact with it.
+
+"Some day I goes plop under it, and be ground myself," she used to say.
+"Good black soil I make, too," she always added, with her low chuckle.
+
+To-night we were all in the wagons, for the spring rains had made the
+Neosho valley damp and muddy. I was just on the edge of dreamless
+slumber when a low voice that seemed to cut the darkness caught my ear.
+
+"Cla'nden! Cla'nden!" it hissed, softly.
+
+My uncle slipped noiselessly out to where Aunty Boone stood, her head so
+near to the canvas wagon-cover inside of which I lay that I could hear
+all that was said.
+
+She was always a night prowler. What other women learn now from the
+evening newspaper or from neighborly gossip she, being created without a
+sense of fear, went forth in her time and gathered at first hand.
+
+"I been prospectin' up 'round the saloon, Cla'nden. They's a nasty mess
+of Mexicans in town, all gettin' drunk."
+
+Then I heard a faint rustle of the bushes and I knew that the woman was
+slipping away to her place under the wagon. I remembered the Mexican
+whom I had last seen across the street from the Clarenden store in
+Independence. These were bad Mexicans, as Aunty Boone had said, and that
+man had seemed in a silent way a friend of my uncle. I wondered what
+would happen next. It soon happened. My uncle Esmond came inside the
+wagon and called, softly:
+
+"Gail, wake up."
+
+"I'm awake," I replied, in a half-whisper, as alert as a mystery-loving
+boy could be.
+
+"Slip over to Jondo and tell him there are Mexicans in town, and I'm
+going across the river to see what's up. Tell him to wake up everybody
+and have them stay in the wagons till I get back."
+
+He slid away and the shadows ate him. I followed as far as Jondo's
+wagon, and gave my message. As I came back something seemed to slip away
+before me and disappear somewhere. I dived into our wagon and crouched
+down, waiting with beating heart for Uncle Esmond to come back. Once I
+thought I heard the sound of a horse's feet on the trail to the
+eastward, but I was not sure.
+
+All was still and black in the little camp for a long time, and then
+Esmond Clarenden and Rex Krane crept into the wagon and dropped the flap
+behind them.
+
+"Krane, have you decided about this trip yet?" Uncle Esmond asked. "If
+not, you'd better get right up into town and forget us. You can't be too
+quick about it, either."
+
+"Ain't we going to stay here a few days? Why do you want to know
+to-night?"
+
+Rex Krane, Yankee-like, met the query with a query.
+
+"Because there's a pretty strong party of Mexican desperadoes here who
+are going on east, and they mean trouble for somebody. I shouldn't care
+to meet them with our strength alone. They are all pretty drunk now and
+getting wilder every minute. Listen to that!"
+
+A yell across the river broke the night stillness.
+
+"There is no telling how soon they may be over here, hunting for us. We
+must get by them some way, for I cannot risk a fight with them here.
+Which chance will you choose, the possibility of being overtaken by that
+Mexican gang going east, or the perils of the plains and the hostility
+of New Mexico right now? It's about as broad one way as the other for
+safety, with staying here for a time as the only middle course at
+present. But that is a perfectly safe one for you."
+
+"I am going on with you," Rex Krane said, with his slow Yankee drawl.
+"When danger gets close, then I scatter. There's more chance in seven
+hundred miles to miss somethin' than there is in a hundred and fifty.
+And even a half-invalid might be of some use. Say, Clarenden, how'd you
+get hold of this information? You turned in before I did."
+
+"Daniel Boone went out on scout duty--self-elected. You know she
+considers that the earth was made for her to walk on when she chooses to
+use it that way. She spied trouble ahead and came back, and gave me the
+key to the west door of Council Grove so I could get out early," my
+uncle replied.
+
+"I reckoned as much," Rex declared.
+
+In the dark I could feel Esmond Clarenden give a start.
+
+"What do you mean?" he inquired.
+
+"Oh, I saw the fat lady start out, so I followed her, but I located the
+nest of Mexicans before she did, and got a good deal out of their
+drunken jargon. And then I cat-footed it back after a snaky-looking,
+black Spaniard that seemed to be following her. There were three of us
+in a row, but the devil hasn't got the hindmost one, not yet--that's
+me."
+
+"You saw some one follow Daniel into camp?" my uncle broke in,
+anxiously. But no threatening peril ever hurried Rex Krane's speech.
+
+"Yes, and I also followed some one; but I lost him in this ink-well of a
+hole, and I was waitin' till he left so I could put the cat out, an'
+shut the door, when you cut across the river. I've been sittin' round
+now to see that nothin' broke loose till you got back. Meantime, the
+thing sort of faded away. I heard a horse gallopin' off east, too. Mebby
+they are outpostin' to surround our retreat. I didn't wake Bill. He's
+got no more imagination than Bev. If I had needed anybody I'd have
+stirred up Gail, here."
+
+In the dark I fairly swelled with pride, and from that moment Rex Krane
+was added to my little list of heroes that had been made up, so far, of
+Esmond Clarenden and Jondo and any army officer above the rank of
+captain.
+
+"Krane, you'll do. I thought I had your correct measure back in
+Independence," Uncle Esmond said, heartily. "As to the boys, I can risk
+them; they are Clarendens. My anxiety is for the little orphan girl. She
+is only a child. I couldn't leave her behind us, and I must not let a
+hair of her head be harmed."
+
+"She's a right womanly little thing," Rex Krane said, carelessly; but I
+wondered if in the dark his eyes might not have had the same look they
+had had at noon when he turned to Mat sitting beside my uncle. Maybe
+back at Boston he had a little sister of his own like her. Anyhow, I
+decided then that men's words and faces do not always agree.
+
+Again the roar of voices broke out, and we scrambled from the wagon and
+quickly gathered our company together.
+
+"What did you find out?" Jondo asked.
+
+"We must clear out of here right away and get through to the other side
+of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing it. They are a
+gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross the river if we should
+wait till morning. They have already sent a spy over here, and they are
+waiting for him to report."
+
+"Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.
+
+"They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of him
+went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into nothin' toward
+the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to me."
+
+Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further words,
+Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman would put through
+whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For Aunty Boone was right when
+she said, "They tote together."
+
+"We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't belong
+together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And remember now,
+Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with 'em, I'll do it
+myself," Jondo said.
+
+"Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter more," I
+urged, as we hastily broke camp.
+
+"He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives for
+nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned hesitatingly toward
+Mat Nivers.
+
+In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no wonder
+that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity of the plains
+in those days, when even as children we ran to meet danger with
+courageous daring.
+
+"You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own ford," Jondo
+commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the northwest side of
+town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody tries to stop you, ride like
+fury for the ridge."
+
+"Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me this
+side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll be gone.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred all of
+us.
+
+"You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you must run
+make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.
+
+"You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick man
+ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to John-the-Baptist this
+procession and air the parlor bedrooms."
+
+"Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the wagon
+with me," Bill Banney urged.
+
+"Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward, and I'm
+foot-loose. It's my job to give the address of welcome over t'other side
+of this Mexican settlement."
+
+The tall, thin young man slouched his cap carelessly on his head and
+strode away toward the river. Youth was reckless in those days, and the
+trail was the home of dramatic opportunity. But none of us had dreamed
+hitherto of Rex Krane's degree of daring and his stubborn will.
+
+The big yellow moon was sailing up from the east; the Neosho glistened
+all jet and silver over its rough bed; the great shadowy oaks looked
+ominously after us as we moved out toward the threatening peril before
+us. Slowly, as though she had time to kill, Aunty Boone sent the brown
+mule and trusty dun down to the river's rock-bottom ford. Slowly and
+unconcernedly she climbed the slope and passed up the single street
+toward the saloon she had already "prospected." Pausing a full minute,
+she swung toward a far-off cabin light to the south, jogging over the
+rough ground noisily. The door of the drinking-den was filled with dark
+faces as the crowd jostled out. Just a lone wagon making its way
+somewhere about its own business, that was all.
+
+As the crowd turned in again three ponies galloped up the street toward
+the slope leading out to the high level prairies beyond the Neosho
+valley. But who could guess how furiously three young hearts beat, and
+how tightly three pairs of young hands clutched the bridle reins as we
+surged forward, forgetting the advice to keep in the shadow.
+
+Just after we had crossed the river, a man on horseback fell in behind
+us. We quickened our speed, but he gained on us. Before we reached the
+saloon he was almost even with us, keeping well in the shadow all the
+while. In the increasing moonlight, making everything clear to the eye,
+I gave one quick glance over my shoulder and saw that the horseman was a
+Mexican. I have lived a life so fraught with danger that I should hardly
+remember the feeling of fear but for the indelible imprint of that one
+terrified minute in the moonlit street of Council Grove.
+
+Two ruffians on watch outside the saloon sprang up with yells. The door
+burst open and a gang of rowdies fairly spilled out around us. We three
+on our ponies had the instinctive security on horseback of children born
+to the saddle, else we should never have escaped from the half-drunken
+crew. I recall the dust of striking hoofs, the dark forms dodging
+everywhere, the Mexican rider keeping between us and the saloon door,
+and most of all I remember one glimpse of Mat Nivers's face with big,
+staring eyes, and firm-set mouth; and I remember my fleeting impression
+that she could take care of herself if we could; and over all a sudden
+shadow as the moon, in pity of our terror, hid its face behind a tiny
+cloud.
+
+When it shone out again we were dashing by separate ways up the steep
+slope to the west ridge, but, strangely enough, the Mexican horseman
+with a follower or two had turned away from us and was chasing off
+somewhere out of sight.
+
+Up on top of the bluff, with Rex Krane and Aunty Boone, we watched and
+waited. The wooded Neosho valley full of inky blackness seemed to us
+like a bottomless gorge of terror which no moonlight could penetrate. We
+strained our ears to catch the rattle of the wagons, but the noise from
+the saloon, coming faintly now and then, was all the sound we could hear
+save the voices of the night rising up from the river, and the
+whisperings of the open prairie to the west.
+
+In that hour Rex Krane became our good angel.
+
+"Keep the law, 'Hold fast'! You made a splendid race of it, and if
+Providence made that fellow lose you gettin' out, and led him and his
+gang sideways from you, I reckon she will keep on takin' care of you
+till Clarenden resumes control, so don't you worry."
+
+But for his brave presence the terror of that lonely watch would have
+been harder than the peril of the street, for he seemed more like a
+gentle mother than the careless, scoffing invalid of the trail.
+
+Midnight came, and the chill of midnight. We huddled together in our
+wagon and still we waited. Down in the village the lights still burned,
+and angry voices with curses came to our ears at intervals.
+
+Meantime the three men across the river moved cautiously, hoping that
+we were safe on the bluff, and knowing that they dared not follow us too
+rapidly. The wagons creaked and the harness rattled noisily in the night
+stillness, as slowly, one by one, they lumbered through the darkness
+across the river and up the bank to the village street. Here they halted
+and grouped together.
+
+"We must hide out and wait, Clarenden," Jondo counciled. "I hope
+the ponies and the wagon ahead are safe, but they stirred things up. If
+we go now we'll all be caught."
+
+The three wagons fell apart and halted wide of the trail where the
+oak-trees made the blackest shade. The minutes dragged out like hours,
+and the anxiety for the unprotected group on the bluff made the three
+men frantic to hurry on. But Jondo's patience equaled his courage, and
+he always took the least risk. It was nearly midnight, and every noise
+was intensified. If a mule but moved it set up a clatter of harness
+chains that seemed to fill the valley.
+
+At last a horseman, coming suddenly from somewhere, rode swiftly by each
+shadow-hidden wagon, half pausing at the sound of the mules stamping in
+their places, and then he hurried up the street.
+
+"Three against the crowd. If we must fight, fight to kill," Jondo urged,
+as the ready firearms were placed for action.
+
+In a minute or two the crew broke out of the saloon and filled the
+moonlit street, all talking and swearing in broken Spanish.
+
+"Not come yet!"
+
+"Pedro say they be here to-morrow night!" "We wait till to-morrow
+night!"
+
+And with many wild yells they fell back for a last debauch in the
+drinking-den.
+
+"I don't understand it," Jondo declared. "That fellow who rode by here
+ought to have located every son of us, but if they want to wait till
+to-morrow night it suits me."
+
+An hour later, when the village was in a dead sleep, three wagons slowly
+pulled up the long street and joined the waiting group at the top, and
+the crossing over was complete.
+
+Dawn was breaking as our four wagons, followed by the ponies, crept away
+in the misty light. As we trailed off into the unknown land, I looked
+back at the bluff below which nestled the last houses we were to see for
+seven hundred miles. And there, outlined against the horizon, a Mexican
+stood watching us. I had seen the same man one day riding up from the
+ravine southwest of Fort Leavenworth. I had seen him dashing toward the
+river the next day. I had watched him sitting across the street from the
+Clarenden store in Independence.
+
+I wondered if it might have been this man who had hung about our camp
+the evening before, and if it might have been this same man who rode
+between us and the saloon mob, leading the crowd after him and losing us
+on the side of the bluff. And as we had eluded the Council Grove danger,
+I wondered what would come next, and if he would be in it.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+
+
+  "So I draw the world together, link by link."
+                                      --KIPLING.
+
+
+Day after day we pushed into the unknown wilderness. No wagon-trains
+passed ours moving eastward. No moccasined track in the dust of the
+trail gave hint of any human presence near. Where to-day the Pullman car
+glides in smooth comfort, the old Santa Fé Trail lay like a narrow brown
+ribbon on the green desolation of Nature's unconquered domain. Out
+beyond the region of long-stemmed grasses, into the short-grass land, we
+pressed across a pathless field-of-the-cloth-of-green, gemmed with
+myriads of bright blossoms--broad acres on acres that the young years of
+a coming century should change into great wheat-fields to help fill the
+granaries of the world. How I reveled in it--that far-stretching plain
+of flower-starred verdure! It was my world--mine, unending, only
+softening out into lavender mists that rimmed it round in one unbroken
+fold of velvety vapor.
+
+At last we came to the Arkansas River--flat-banked, sand-bottomed,
+wide, wandering, impossible thing--whose shallow waters followed
+aimlessly the line of least resistance, back and forth across its bed.
+Rivers had meant something to me. The big muddy Missouri for
+Independence and Fort Leavenworth, that its steamers might bring the
+soldiers, and my uncle's goods to their places. The little rivers that
+ran into the big ones, to feed their currents for down-stream service.
+The creeks, that boys might wade and swim and fish, else Beverly would
+have lived unhappily all his days. But here was a river that could
+neither fetch nor carry. Nobody lived near it, and it had no deep waters
+like our beloved, ugly old Missouri. I loved the level prairies, but I
+didn't like that river, somehow. I felt exposed on its blank, treeless
+borders, as if I stood naked and defenseless, with no haven of cover
+from the enemies of the savage plains.
+
+The late afternoon was hot, the sky was dust-dimmed, the south wind
+feverish and strength-sapping. At dawn we had sighted a peak against the
+western horizon. We were approaching it now--a single low butte, its
+front a sheer stone bluff facing southward toward the river, it lifted
+its head high above the silent plains; and to the north it stretched in
+a long gentle slope back to a lateral rim along the landscape. The trail
+crept close about its base, as if it would cling lovingly to this one
+shadow-making thing amid all the open, blaring, sun-bound miles
+stretching out on either side of it.
+
+As Beverly and I were riding in front of Mat's wagon, of which we had
+elected ourselves the special guardians, Rex Krane came up alongside
+Bill Banney's team in front of us. The young men were no such
+hard-and-fast friends as Beverly and I. For some reason they had little
+to say to each other.
+
+"Is that what you call Pike's Peak, Bill?" Rex asked.
+
+"No, the mountains are a month away. That's Pawnee Rock, and I'll
+breathe a lot freer when we get out of sight of that infernal thing,"
+Bill replied.
+
+"What's its offense?" Rex inquired.
+
+"It's the peak of perdition, the bottomless pit turned inside out," Bill
+declared.
+
+"I don't see the excuse for a rock sittin' out here, sayin' nothin',
+bein' called all manner of unpleasant names," the young Bostonian
+insisted.
+
+"Well, I reckon you'd find one mighty quick if you ever heard the
+soldiers at Fort Leavenworth talk about it once. All the plainsmen dread
+it. Jondo says more men have been killed right around this old stone
+Sphinx than any other one spot in North America, outside of
+battle-fields."
+
+"Happy thought! Do their ghosts rise up and walk at midnight? Tell me
+more," Rex urged.
+
+"Nobody walks. Everybody runs. There was a terrible Indian fight here
+once; the Pawnees in the king-row, and all the hosts of the Midianites,
+and Hivites, and Jebusites, Kiowa, Comanche, and Kaw, rag-tag and
+bobtail, trying to get 'em out. I don't know who won, but the citadel
+got christened Pawnee Rock. It took a fountain filled with blood to do
+it, though."
+
+Rex Krane gave a long whistle.
+
+"I believe Bill is trying to scare him, Bev," I murmured.
+
+"I believe he's just precious wasting time," Beverly replied.
+
+"And so," Bill continued, "it came to be a sort of rock of execution
+where romances end and they die happily ever afterward. The Indians get
+up there and, being able to read fine print with ease as far away as
+either seacoast, they can watch any wagon-train from the time it leaves
+Council Grove over east to Bent's Fort on the Purgatoire Creek out west;
+and having counted the number of men, and the number of bullets in each
+man's pouch, they slip down and jump on the train as it goes by. If the
+men can make it to beat them to the top of the rock, as they do
+sometimes, they can keep the critters off, unless the Indians are strong
+enough to keep them up there and sit around and wait till they starve
+for water, and have to come down. It's a grim old fortress, and never
+needs a garrison. Indians or white men up there, sometimes they defend
+and sometimes attack. But it's a bad place always, and on account of
+having our little girl along--" Bill paused. "A fellow gets to see a lot
+of country out here," he added.
+
+"Banney, just why didn't you join the army? You'd have a chance to see a
+lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on," Rex Krane said,
+meditatively.
+
+"I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
+likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone please,"
+Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this country the most good.
+They are useful enough when they are useful, Lord knows. And we'll
+always need a decent few of 'em around to look after women and children,
+and invalids," he went on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden
+that's going to make these prairies worth something one of these days.
+The men who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
+That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about army
+folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight and measure,
+is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."
+
+Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.
+
+"Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead tired and
+this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due as soon as it lays
+a bit, and we would be sort of protected here. A tornado's a giant out
+in this country, you know."
+
+"This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling public,
+does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.
+
+"Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of it
+isn't a bad place to shoot from."
+
+"What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney inquired.
+
+"We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo assured us.
+"I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got to be careful. This
+point has a bad reputation, and I naturally begin to _feel_ Indians in
+the air as soon as I come in sight of it. If we need the law of the
+trail anywhere, we need it here," he admonished.
+
+Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of _bad_ Indians,
+but nothing had happened to us yet, and we could not believe that any
+danger was near us now, although we were foolishly half hoping that
+there might be, for the excitement of it.
+
+"There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill. Where
+would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were getting into camp
+order for the night.
+
+Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it had been
+in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and fishes playing
+leap-frog.
+
+"They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout lying flat
+on the top of old Pawnee Rock, up there, lookin' benevolently down at us
+over the rim of his spectacles right now," Bill replied, as he pulled
+the corral ropes out of the wagon.
+
+"What makes you think so?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"What Jondo said about his _feeling Indians_, I guess, but he reads
+these prairie trails as easy as Robinson Crusoe read Friday's footprints
+in the sand, and he hasn't read anything in 'em yet. Indians don't
+fight at night, anyhow. That's one good thing. Get hold of that rope,
+Bev, and pull her up tight," Bill replied.
+
+Every night our four wagons in camp made a hollow square, with space
+enough allowed at the corners to enlarge the corral inside for the
+stock. These corners were securely roped across from wagon to wagon.
+To-night, however, the corral space was reduced and the quartet of
+vehicles huddled closer together.
+
+At dusk the hot wind came sweeping in from the southwest, a wild,
+lashing fury, swirling the sand in great spirals from the river bed. Our
+fire was put out and the blackness of midnight fell upon us. The horses
+were restless and the mules squealed and stamped. All night the very
+spirit of fear seemed to fill the air.
+
+Just before daybreak a huge black storm-cloud came boiling up out of the
+southwest, with a weird yellow band across the sky before it. Overhead
+the stars shed a dim light on the shadowy face of the plains. A sudden
+whisper thrilled the camp, chilling our hearts within us.
+
+"Indians near!" We all knew it in a flash.
+
+Jondo, on guard, had caught the sign first. Something creeping across
+the trail, not a coyote, for it stood upright a moment, then bent again,
+and was lost in the deep gloom. Jondo had shifted to another angle of
+the outlook, had seen it again, and again at a third point. It was
+encircling the camp. Then all of us, except Jondo, began to see moving
+shapes. He saw nothing for a long time, and our spirits rose again.
+
+"You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he stared
+into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal wind. It's one
+darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."
+
+"I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big plainsman
+replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The trouble is that it is
+watching now. Everybody lay low. It will come to life again. I hope
+there's only one of it."
+
+We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about and
+fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.
+
+It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
+Something creeping near, and nearer.
+
+The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
+beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung like a
+weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a form rose from
+the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both arms toward us. And a
+low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our ears.
+
+Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their foes
+out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a little girl, no
+larger than our Mat--and again came the low call. The voice was Indian,
+the accent Spanish, but the words were English.
+
+"Come to us!" Esmond Clarenden answered back in a clear, low tone; and
+slowly and noiselessly the girl approached the camp.
+
+I can feel it all now, although that was many years ago: the soft
+starlight on the plains; the hot, still air holding its breath against
+the oncoming tornado; the group of wagons making a deeper shadow in the
+dull light; beyond us the bold front of old Pawnee Rock, huge and gray
+in the gloom; our little company standing close together, ready to hurl
+a shower of bullets if this proved but the decoy of a hidden foe; and
+the girl with light step drawing nearer. Clad in the picturesque garb of
+the Southwest Indian, her hair hanging in a great braid over each
+shoulder, her dark eyes fixed on us, she made a picture in that dusky
+setting that an artist might not have given to his brush twice in a
+lifetime on the plains.
+
+A few feet from us she halted.
+
+"Throw up your hands!" Jondo commanded.
+
+The slim brown arms were flung above the girl's head, and I caught the
+glint of quaintly hammered silver bracelets, as she stepped forward with
+that ease of motion that generations of moccasined feet on sand and sod
+and stone can give.
+
+"Take me," she cried, pleadingly. "The Mexicans steal me from my people
+and bring me far away. They meet Kiowa. Kiowa beat me; make me slave."
+
+She held up her hands. They were lacerated and bleeding. She slipped the
+bright blanket from her brown shoulder. It was bruised and swollen.
+
+"You go to Santa Fé? Take me. I do you good, not bad."
+
+"What would these Kiowas do to us, then?"
+
+It was Bill Banney who spoke.
+
+"They follow you--kill you."
+
+"Oh, cheerful! I wish you were twins," Rex Krane said, softly.
+
+Jondo lifted his hand.
+
+"Let me talk to her," he said.
+
+Then in her own language he got her story.
+
+"Here we are." He turned to us. "Stolen from her people by the Mexicans,
+probably the same ones we passed in Council Grove; traded to the Kiowas
+out here somewhere, beaten, and starved, and held for ransom, or trade
+to some other tribe. They are over there behind Pawnee Rock. They got
+sight of us somehow, but they don't intend to bother us. They are on the
+lookout for a bigger train. She has slipped away while they sleep. If we
+send her back she will be beaten and made a slave. If we keep her, they
+will follow us for a fight. They are fifty to our six. What shall we
+do?"
+
+"We don't need any Indians to help us get into trouble. We are sure
+enough of it without that," Bill Banney declared. "And what's one
+Indian, anyhow? She's just--"
+
+"Just a little orphan girl like Mat," Rex Krane finished his sentence.
+
+Bill frowned, but made no reply.
+
+The Indian girl was standing outside the corral, listening to all that
+was said, her face giving no sign of the struggle between hope and
+despair that must have striven within her.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances." Beverly's boyish
+voice had a defiant tone, for the spirit of adventure was strong within
+him. The girl turned quickly and a great light leaped into her eyes at
+the boy's words.
+
+"Save a life and lose ours. It's not the rule of the plains,
+but--there's a higher law like that somewhere, Clarenden," Jondo said,
+earnestly.
+
+The girl came swiftly toward Uncle Esmond and stood upright before him.
+
+"I will not hide the truth. I go back to Kiowas. They sell me for big
+treasure. They will not harm you," she said. "I stay with you, they say
+you steal me, and they come at the first bird's song and kill you every
+one. They are so many."
+
+She stood motionless before him, the seal of grim despair on her young
+face.
+
+"What's your name?" Esmond Clarenden asked. "Po-a-be. In your words,
+'Little Blue Flower,'" the girl said.
+
+"Then, Little Blue Flower, you must stay with us."
+
+She pointed toward the eastern sky where a faint light was beginning to
+show above the horizon. "See, the day comes!"
+
+"Then we will break camp now," my uncle said.
+
+"Not in the face of this storm, Clarenden," Jondo declared. "You can
+fight an Indian. You can't do a thing but 'hold fast' in one of these
+hurricanes."
+
+The air was still and hot. The black cloud swept swiftly onward, with
+the weird yellow glow before it. In the solitude of the plains the trail
+showed like a ghostly pathway of peril. Before us loomed that grim rock
+bluff, behind whose crest lay the sleeping band of Kiowas. It was only
+because they slept that Little Blue Flower could steal away in hope of
+rescue.
+
+Hotter grew the air and darker the swiftly rolling clouds; black and
+awful stood old Pawnee Rock with the silent menace of its sleeping
+enemy. In the stillness of the pause before the storm burst we heard
+Jondo's voice commanding us. With our first care for the frightened
+stock, we grouped ourselves together as he ordered close under the
+bluff.
+
+Suddenly an angry wind leaped out of the sky, beating back the hot dead
+air with gigantic flails of fury. Then the storm broke with tornado rage
+and cloudburst floods, and in its track terror reigned. Beverly and I
+clung together, and, holding a hand of each, Mat Nivers crouched beside
+us, herself strong in this second test of courage as she had been in the
+camp that night at Council Grove.
+
+I have never been afraid of storms and I can never understand why timid
+folk should speak of them as of a living, self-directing force bent
+purposely on human destruction. I love the splendor of the lightning and
+the thunder's peal. From our earliest years, Beverly and Mat and I had
+watched the flood-waters of the Missouri sweep over the bottomlands, and
+we had heard the winds rave, and the cannonading of the angry heavens.
+But this mad blast of the prairie storm was like nothing we had ever
+seen or heard before. A yellow glare filled the sky, a half-illumined,
+evil glow, as if to hide what lay beyond it. One breathed in fine sand,
+and tasted the desert dust. Behind it, all copper-green, a broad, lurid
+band swept up toward the zenith. Under its weird, unearthly light, the
+prairies, and everything upon them, took on a ghastly hue. Then came the
+inky-black storm-cloud--long, funnel-shaped, pendulous--and in its
+deafening roar and the thick darkness that could be felt, and the awful
+sweep of its all-engulfing embrace, the senses failed and the very
+breath of life seemed beaten away. The floods fell in streams, hot, then
+suddenly cold. And then a fusillade of hail bombarded the flat prairies,
+defenseless beneath the munitions of the heavens. But in all the wild,
+mad blackness, in the shriek and crash of maniac winds, in the swirl of
+many waters, and chill and fury of the threshing hail, the law of the
+trail failed not: "Hold fast." And with our hands gripped in one
+another's, we children kept the law.
+
+Just at the moment when destruction seemed upon us, the long swinging
+cloud--funnel lifted. We heard it passing high above us. Then it dropped
+against the face of old Pawnee Rock, that must have held the trail law
+through all the centuries of storms that have beaten against its bold,
+stern front. One tremendous blast, one crashing boom, as if the
+foundations of the earth were broken loose, and the thing had left us
+far behind.
+
+Daylight burst upon us in a moment, and the blue heavens smiled down on
+the clean-washed prairies. No homes, no crops, no orchards were left in
+ruins in those days to mark the cyclone's wrath on wilderness trails. As
+the darkness lifted we gathered ourselves together to take hold of life
+again and to defend ourselves from our human enemy.
+
+A shower of arrows from the top of the bluff might rain upon us at any
+moment, yelling warriors might rush upon us, or a ring of riders
+encircle us. It was in times like this that I learned how quickly men
+can get the mastery.
+
+Jondo and Esmond Clarenden did not delay a minute in protecting the camp
+and setting it in order, taking inventory of the lost and searching for
+the missing. Three of our number, with one of the ponies, were missing.
+
+Aunty Boone had crouched in a protected angle at the base of the bluff,
+and when we found her she was calmly smoking her pipe.
+
+"Yo' skeered of this little puff?" she queried. "Yo' bettah see a simoon
+on the desset, then. This here--just a racket. What's come of that
+little redskin?"
+
+She was not to be found. Nor was there any trace of Rex Krane anywhere.
+In consternation we scanned the prairies far and wide, but only level
+green distances were about us, holding no sign of life. We lived hours
+in those watching minutes.
+
+Suddenly Beverly gave a shout, and we saw Little Blue Flower running
+swiftly from the sloping side of the bluff toward the camp. Behind her
+stalked the young New-Englander.
+
+"I went up to see what she was in such a hurry for to see," he
+explained, simply. "I calculated it would be as interestin' to me as to
+her, and if anything was about to cut loose"--he laid a hand carelessly
+on his revolver--"why, I'd help it along. The little pink pansy, it
+seems, went to look after our friends, the enemy," Rex went on. "The
+hail nearly busted that old rock open. I thought once it had. The ponies
+are scattered and likewise the Kiowas. Gone helter-skelter, like
+the--tornado. The thing hit hard up there. Some ponies dead, and mebby
+an Indian or two. I didn't hunt 'em up. I can't use 'em that way," he
+added. "So I just said, 'Pax vobiscum!' and a lot of it, and came
+kittering back."
+
+Little Blue Flower's eyes glistened.
+
+"Gone, all gone. The rain god drove them away. Now I know I may go with
+you. The rain god loves you."
+
+It was to Beverly, and not to my uncle, that her eyes turned as she
+spoke, but he was not even listening to her. To him she was merely an
+Indian. She seemed more than that to me, and therein lay the difference
+between us.
+
+If she had been interesting under the starlight, in the light of day she
+became picturesque, a beautiful type of her race, silent, alert of
+countenance, with big, expressive, black eyes, and long, heavy braids of
+black hair. With her brilliant blanket about her shoulders, a turquoise
+pendant on a leather band at her throat, silver bracelets on her brown
+arms, she was as pleasing as an Indian maiden could be--adding a touch
+of picturesque life to that wonderful journey westward from Pawnee Rock
+to Santa Fé. Aunty Boone alone resented her presence among us.
+
+"You can trust a nigger," she growled, "'cause you know they none of 'em
+no 'count. But you can't tell about this Injun, whether she's good or
+bad. I lets that sort of fish alone."
+
+Little Blue Flower looked up at her with steady gaze and made no reply.
+
+Out of that morning's events I learned a lasting lesson, and I know now
+that the influence of Rex Krane on my life began that day, as I recalled
+how he had followed Aunty Boone about the dark corners of the little
+trading-post on the Neosho; and how he had looked at Mat Nivers once
+when Uncle Esmond had suggested his turning back to Independence; and
+how he had gone before all of us, the vanguard, to the top of the bluff
+west of Council Grove; and now he had followed this Indian girl. From
+that time I knew in my boy heart that this tall, careless Boston youth
+had a zealous care for the safety of women and children. How much care,
+events would run swiftly on to show me. But welded into my life from
+that hour was the meaning of a man's high, chivalric duty. And among all
+the lessons that the old trail taught to me, none served me more than
+this one that came to me on that sweet May morning beneath the shadow of
+Pawnee Rock.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+SPYING OUT THE LAND
+
+
+  City of the Holy Faith,
+    In thy streets so dim with age,
+  Do I read not Faith's decay,
+    But the Future's heritage.
+                        --LILIAN WHITING.
+
+
+Day was passing and the shadows were already beginning to grow purple in
+the valleys, long before the golden light had left the opal-crowned
+peaks of the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains beyond them.
+
+On the wide crest of a rocky ridge our wagons halted. Behind us the long
+trail stretched back, past mountain height and cañon wall, past barren
+slope and rolling green prairie, on to where the wooded ravines hem in
+the Missouri's yellow floods.
+
+Before us lay a level plain, edged round with high mesas, over which
+snowy-topped mountain peaks kept watch. A sandy plain, checkered across
+by verdant-banded arroyos, and splotched with little clumps of trees and
+little fields of corn. In the heart of it all was Santa Fé, a mere group
+of dust-brown adobe blocks--silent, unsmiling, expressionless--the
+city of the Spanish Mexican, centuries old and centuries primitive.
+
+As our tired mules slackened their traces and drooped to rest after the
+long up-climb, Esmond Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, children. Yonder is the end of the trail."
+
+We gathered eagerly about him, a picture in ourselves, maybe, in an age
+of picturesque things; four men, bronzed and bearded; two sturdy boys;
+Mat Nivers, no longer a little girl, it seemed now, with the bloom of
+health on her tanned cheeks, and the smile of good nature in wide gray
+eyes; beside her, the Indian maiden, Little Blue Flower, slim, brown,
+lithe of motion, brief of speech; and towering back of all, the
+glistening black face of the big, silent African woman.
+
+So we stood looking out toward that northwest plain where the trail lost
+itself among the low adobe huts huddled together beside the glistening
+waters of the Santa Fé River.
+
+Rex Krane was the first to speak.
+
+"So that's what we've come out for to see, is it?" he mused, aloud.
+"That's the precious old town that we've dodged Indians, and shot
+rattlesnakes, and sunburnt our noses, and rain-soaked our dress suits
+for! That's why we've pillowed our heads on the cushiony cactus and
+tramped through purling sands, and blistered our hands pullin' at
+eider-down ropes, and strained our leg-muscles goin' down, and busted
+our lungs comin' up, and clawed along the top edge of the world with
+nothin' but healthy climate between us and the bottom of the bottomless
+pit. Humph! That's what you call Santa Fé! 'The city of the Holy Faith!'
+Well, I need a darned lot of 'holy faith' to make me see any city there.
+It's just a bunch of old yellow brick-kilns to me, and I 'most wish now
+I'd stayed back at Independence and hunted dog-tooth violets along the
+Big Blue."
+
+"It's not Boston, if that's what you were looking for; at least there's
+no Bunker Hill Monument nor Back Bay anywhere in sight. But I reckon
+it's the best they've got. I'm tired enough to take what's offered and
+keep still," Bill Banney declared.
+
+I, too, wanted to keep still. I had only a faint memory of a real city.
+It must have been St. Louis, for there was a wharf, and a steamboat and
+a busy street, and soft voices--speaking a foreign tongue. But the
+pictures I had seen, and the talk I had heard, coupled with a little
+boy's keen imagination, had built up a very different Santa Fé in my
+mind. At that moment I was homesick for Fort Leavenworth, through and
+through homesick, for the first time since that April day when I had sat
+on the bluff above the Missouri River while the vision of the plains
+descended upon me. Everything seemed so different to-night, as if a gulf
+had widened between us and all the nights behind us.
+
+We went into camp on the ridge, with the journey's goal in plain view.
+And as we sat down together about the fire after supper we forgot the
+hardships of the way over which we had come. The pine logs blazed
+cheerily, and as the air grew chill we drew nearer together about them
+as about a home fireside.
+
+The long June twilight fell upon the landscape. The piñon and scrubby
+cedars turned to dark blotches on the slopes. The valley swam in a
+purple mist. The silence of evening was broken only by a faint bird-note
+in the bushes, and the fainter call of some wild thing stealing forth at
+nightfall from its daytime retreat. Behind us the mesas and headlands
+loomed up black and sullen, but far before us the Sangre-de-Christo
+Mountains lifted their glorified crests, with the sun's last radiance
+bathing them in crimson floods.
+
+We sat in silence for a long time, for nobody cared to talk. Presently
+we heard Aunty Boone's low, penetrating voice inside the wagon corral:
+
+"You pore gob of ugliness! Yo' done yo' best, and it's green corn and
+plenty of watah and all this grizzly-gray grass you can stuff in now.
+It's good for a mule to start right, same as a man. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The low voice trailed off into weird little whoops of approval. Then the
+woman wandered away to the edge of the bluff and sat until late that
+night, looking out at the strange, entrancing New Mexican landscape.
+
+"To-morrow we put on our best clothes and enter the city," my uncle
+broke the silence. "We have managed to pull through so far, and we
+intend to keep on pulling till we unload back at Independence again.
+But these are unsafe times and we are in an unsafe country. We are going
+to do business and get out of it again as soon as possible. I shall ask
+you all to be ready to leave at a minute's notice, if you are coming
+back with me!"
+
+"Now you see why I didn't join the army, don't you, Krane?" Bill Banney
+said, aside. "I wanted to work under a real general."
+
+Then turning to my uncle, he added:
+
+"I'm already contracted for the round trip, Clarenden."
+
+"You are going to start back just as if there were no dangers to be
+met?" Rex Krane inquired.
+
+"As if there were dangers to be _met_, not run from," Esmond Clarenden
+replied.
+
+"Clarenden," the young Bostonian began, "you got away from that drunken
+mob at Independence with your children, your mules, and your big Daniel
+Boone. You started out when war was ragin' on the Mexican frontier, and
+never stopped a minute because you had to come it alone from Council
+Grove. You shook yourself and family right through the teeth of that
+Mexican gang layin' for you back there. You took Little Trailing Arbutus
+at Pawnee Rock out of pure sympathy when you knew it meant a fight at
+sun-up, six against fifty. And there would have been a bloody one, too,
+but for that merciful West India hurricane bustin' up the show. You
+pulled us up the Arkansas River, and straddled the Gloriettas, with
+every danger that could ever be just whistlin' about our ears. And now
+you sit there and murmur softly that 'we are in an unsafe country and
+these are unsafe times,' so we'd better be toddlin' back home right
+soon. I want to tell _you_ something now."
+
+He paused and looked at Mat Nivers. Always he looked at Mat Nivers, who
+since the first blush one noonday long ago, so it seemed, now, never
+appeared to know or care where he looked. He must have had such a sister
+himself; I felt sure of that now.
+
+"I want to tell _you_," Rex repeated, "that I'm goin' to stay with you.
+There's something _safe_ about you. And then," he added, carelessly, as
+he gazed out toward the darkening plain below us, "my mother always said
+you could tie to a man who was good to children. And you've been good to
+this infant Kentuckian here."
+
+He flung out a hand toward Bill Banney without looking away from the
+open West. "When you want to start back to God's country and the land of
+Plymouth Rocks and Pawnee Rocks, I'm ready to trot along."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said. "I shall
+need all the help I can get on the way back. Because we got through
+safely we cannot necessarily count on a safe return. I may need you in
+Santa Fé, too."
+
+"Then command me," Rex replied.
+
+He looked toward Mat again, but she and Little Blue Flower were coiling
+their long hair in fantastic fashion about their heads, and laughing
+like school-girls together.
+
+Little Blue Flower was as a shy brown fawn following us. She had a way
+of copying Mat's manner, and she spoke less of Indian and Spanish and
+more of English from day to day. She had laid aside her Indian dress for
+one of Mat's neat gingham gowns. I think she tried hard to forget her
+race in everything except her prayers, for her own people had all been
+slain by Mexican ruffians. We could not have helped liking her if we had
+tried to do so. Yet that invisible race barrier that kept a fixed gulf
+between us and Aunty Boone separated us also from the lovable little
+Indian lass, albeit the gulf was far less deep and impassable.
+
+To-night when she and Mat scampered away to the family wagon together,
+she seemed somehow to really belong to us.
+
+Presently Jondo and Rex Krane and Bill and Beverly rolled their blankets
+about them and went to sleep, leaving Esmond Clarenden and myself alone
+beside the dying fire. The air was sharp and the night silence deepened
+as the stars came into the skies.
+
+"Why don't you go to bed, Gail?" my uncle asked.
+
+"I'm not sleepy. I'm homesick," I replied. "Come here, boy." He opened
+his arms to me, and I nestled in their embrace.
+
+"You've grown a lot in these two months, little man," he said, softly.
+"You are a brave-hearted plainsman, and a good, strong little limb when
+it comes to endurance, but just once in a while all of us need a
+mothering touch. It keeps us sweet, my boy. It keeps us sweet and fit to
+live."
+
+Oh, many a time in the years that followed did the loving embrace and
+the gentle words of this gentle, strong man come back to comfort me.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Gail. I'm going to need a boy like you to
+help me a lot before we leave Santa Fé, and I shall count on you."
+
+Just then a noise at the far side of the corral seemed to disturb the
+stock. A faint stir of awakening or surprise--just a hint in the air.
+All was still in a moment. Then it came again. We listened. Something,
+an indefinite something, somewhere, was astir. The surprise became
+unrest, anxiety, fear, among the mules.
+
+"Wait here, Gail. I'll see what's up," Uncle Esmond said, in a low
+voice.
+
+He hurried away toward the corral and I slipped back in the shadow of a
+rock and leaned against it to wait.
+
+In the dim beams of a starlit New Mexican sky I could see clearly out
+toward the valley, but behind the camp all was darkness. As I waited,
+hidden by the shadows, suddenly the flap of the family-wagon cover
+lifted and Little Blue Flower slid out as softly as a cat walks in the
+dust. She was dressed in her own Indian garb now, with her bright
+blanket drawn picturesquely about her head and shoulders. Silently she
+moved about the camp, peering toward the shadows hiding me. Then with
+noiseless step she slipped toward where Beverly Clarenden lay, his
+boyish face upturned to the stars, sleeping the dreamless sleep of
+youth and health. I leaned forward and stared hard as the girl
+approached him. I saw her drop down on one knee beside him, and, bending
+over him, she gently kissed his forehead. She rose and gave one hurried
+look around the place and then, like a bird lifting its wings for
+flight, she threw up her arms, and in another moment she sprang to the
+edge of the ridge and slipped from view. I followed, only to see her
+gliding swiftly away, farther and farther, along the dim trail, until
+the shadows swallowed her from my sight.
+
+A low whinny from the corral caught my ear, followed by a rush of
+horses' feet. As I slipped into my place again to wait for my uncle to
+return, the smoldering logs blazed out suddenly, lighting up the form of
+a man who appeared just beyond the fire, so that I saw the face
+distinctly. Then he, too, was gone, following the way the Indian girl
+had taken, until he lost himself in the misty dullness of the plains.
+
+Presently Esmond Clarenden came back to the camp-fire.
+
+"Gail, the pony we lost in that storm at Pawnee Rock has come back to
+us. It was standing outside the corral, waiting to get in, just as if it
+had lost us for a couple of hours. It is in good condition, too."
+
+"How could it ever get here?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Any one of a dozen ways," my uncle replied. "It may have run far that
+stormy morning when it broke out of the corral, and possibly some party
+coming over the Cimarron Trail picked it up and roved on this way. There
+is no telling how it got here, since it keeps still itself about the
+matter. Losing and finding and losing again is the law of events on the
+plains."
+
+"But why should it find us right here to-night, like it had been led
+back?" I insisted.
+
+"That's the miracle of it, Gail. It is always the strange thing that
+really happens here. In years to come, if you ever tell the truth about
+this trip, it will not be believed. When this isn't the frontier any
+longer, the story of the trail will be accounted impossible."
+
+Everything seemed impossible to me as I sat there staring at the dying
+fire. Presently I remembered what I had seen while my uncle was away.
+
+"Little Blue Flower has run away," I said, "and I saw the Mexican that
+came to Fort Leavenworth the day before I twisted my ankle. He slipped
+by here just a minute ago. I know, for I saw his face when the logs
+flared up."
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most remarkable
+memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he said.
+
+"Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony after
+us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I ever see him
+before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"
+
+"You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But dreams
+don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are needed."
+
+"Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.
+
+"Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it comes to
+doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a bit reckless
+sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them level."
+
+"Don't I do, too?" I inquired.
+
+"Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you mustn't
+forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must
+fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who come after us may be
+the better for our having them. What was it you said about Little Blue
+Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten her for the moment.
+
+"She's gone to Santa Fé, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle Esmond? Tell me all
+about things," I urged.
+
+"We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
+freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't know
+what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just felt Indian, as
+Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you, Gail, that it may have been
+the Mexican who got our pony for us. He is a strange fellow, walks like
+a cat, has ears like a timber wolf, and the cunning of a fox."
+
+"Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me an
+important message, and he waited at Independence to see us off. Do you
+remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council Grove? I think he
+followed the Mexican spy across the river to our camp and sent him on
+east. Then he went back and got the crowd all mixed up by his report,
+while their own man scouted the trail out there for miles all night. He
+is the man who put you through town and decoyed the ruffians to one
+side. He located us after we had crossed the river, and then broke up
+their meeting and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That
+is the way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
+and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.
+
+"Sooner or later however," my uncle went on, "we will have to reckon
+with that Kiowa tribe for stealing their captive. They meant to return
+her for a big ransom price.... Great Heavens, Gail! You seem like a man
+to me to-night instead of my little boy back at the fort. The plains
+bring years to us instead of months, with just one crossing. I am
+counting on you not to tell all you've been told and all you've seen. I
+can be sure of you if you can keep things to yourself. You'd better get
+to sleep now. There will be plenty to see over in Santa Fé. And there is
+always danger afoot. But remember, it is the coward who finds the most
+trouble in this world. Do your part with a gentleman's heart and a
+hero's hand, and you'll get to the end of every trail safely. Now go to
+bed."
+
+Where I lay that night I could see a wide space of star-gemmed sky, the
+blue night-sky of the Southwest, and I wondered, as I looked up into
+the starry deeps, how God could keep so many bright bodies afield up
+there, and yet take time to guard all the wandering children of men.
+
+With the day-dawn the strange events of the night seemed as unreal as
+the vanishing night-shadows. The bluest skies of a blue-sky land curved
+in fathomless majesty over the yellow valley of the Santa Fé. Against
+its borders loomed the silent mountain ranges--purple-shaddowed,
+silver-topped Ortiz and Jemez, Sandia and Sangre-de-Christo. Dusty and
+deserted lay the trail, save that here and there a group of dark-faced
+carriers of firewood prodded on their fagot-laden burros toward the
+distant town. As our wagons halted at the sandy borders of an arroyo the
+brown-clad form of a priest rose up from the shade of a group of scrubby
+piñon-trees beside the trail.
+
+Esmond Clarenden lifted his hat in greeting.
+
+"Are you going our way? We can give you a ride," he paused to say.
+
+The man's face was very dark, but it was a young, strong face, and his
+large, dark eyes were full of the fire of life. When he spoke his voice
+was low and musical.
+
+"I thank you. I go toward the mountains. You stay here long?"
+
+"Only to dispose of my goods. My business is brief," Esmond Clarenden
+declared.
+
+The good man leaned forward as if to see each face there, sweeping in
+everything at one glance. Then he looked down at the ground.
+
+"These are troublesome days. War is only a temporary evil, but it makes
+for hate, and hate kills as it dies. Love lives and gives life." A smile
+lighted his eyes, though his lips were firm. "I wish you well. Among
+friends or enemies the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+Uncle Esmond bowed his head reverently.
+
+"You will find it beside the trail near the river. The walls are very
+old and strong, but not so old as hate, nor so strong as love. A little
+street runs from it, crooked--six houses away. Peace be to all of you."
+He broke off suddenly and his last sentence was spoken in a clear,
+strong tone unlike the gentler voice.
+
+"I thank you, Father!" Jondo said, as the priest passed his wagon.
+
+The holy man gave him one swift, searching glance. Then lifting his
+right hand as if in blessing, and slowly dropping it until the
+forefinger pointed toward the west, he passed on his way.
+
+Jondo's brown cheek flushed and the lines about his mouth grew hard.
+
+"Take my place, Bev," he said, as he left his wagon and joined Esmond
+Clarenden.
+
+The two spoke earnestly together. Then Jondo mounted Beverly's pony.
+
+"If you need me--" I heard him say, and he turned away and rode in the
+direction the priest had taken.
+
+Uncle Esmond offered no explanation for this sudden action, and his
+sunny face was stern.
+
+Usually wagon-trains were spied out long before they reached the city,
+and a rabble attended their entry. To-day we moved along quietly until
+the trail became a mere walled lane. On either side one-story adobe huts
+sat with their backs to the street. No windows opened to the front, and
+only a wooden door or a closed gateway stared in blank unfriendliness at
+the passer-by. Little straggling lanes led off aimlessly on either side,
+as narrow and silent as the strange terminal of the long trail itself.
+
+I was only a boy, with the heart of a boy and the eyes of a boy. I could
+only feel; I could not understand the spell of that hour. But to me
+everything was alluring, wrapt as it was in the mystery of a
+civilization old here when Plymouth Rock felt the first Pilgrim's foot,
+or Pawnee Rock stared at the first bold plainsman of the pale face and
+the conquering soul.
+
+I was riding beside Beverly's wagon as we neared the quaint,
+centuries-old, adobe church of San Miguel, rising tall and silent above
+the low huts about it, its rough walls suggesting a fortress of
+strength, while its triple towers might be an outlook for a guardsman.
+
+"Look at that church. Bev, I wonder how old it is," I exclaimed.
+
+"I should say about a thousand years and a day," Beverly declared. "See
+that flopsy steeple thing! It looks like building-blocks stacked up
+there."
+
+"Maybe this is the sanctuary that priest was talking about," I
+suggested. "He said the walls were old as hate and strong as love, with
+a crooked street beside it somewhere."
+
+"Oh, you sponge! Soaking up everything you see and hear. I wonder you
+sleep nights for fear the wind will tell the pine trees something you'll
+miss," Beverly declared. "I can tell a horse's age by its teeth, but
+churches don't have teeth. Go and ask Mat about it. She knows when the
+De Sotos and Cortéses and all the other Spanish grandaddees came to
+Mexico."
+
+I had just turned back alongside of Mat's wagon--she was always our book
+of ready reference--when a little girl suddenly dashed out of a walled
+lane opening into the street behind us. She stopped in the middle of the
+road, almost under my pony's feet, then with a shout of laughter she
+dashed into the deep doorway of the church and stood there, peering out
+at me with eyes brimful of mischief.
+
+I brought my pony back on its haunches suddenly. I had seen this girl
+before. The big dark eyes, the straight little nose, the curve of the
+pink cheek, the china-smooth chin and neck, and, crowning all, the cloud
+of golden hair shading her forehead and falling in tangled curls behind.
+
+I did not notice all these features now. It was only the eyes, dark
+eyes, somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, and maybe the halo of
+hair that had been in my vision on that day when Beverly and Mat Nivers
+and I sat on the parade-ground facing a sudden turn in our life trail.
+
+I stared at the eyes now, only half conscious that the girl was laughing
+at me.
+
+"You big brown bob-cat! You look like you had slept in the Hondo 'royo
+all your life," she cried, and turned to run away again.
+
+As she did so a dark face peered round the corner of the church from the
+crooked street beside it. A sudden gleam of white teeth and glistening
+eyes, a sudden leap and grip, and a boy, larger than Beverly, caught the
+little girl by the shoulders and shook her viciously.
+
+She screamed and struggled. Then, with a wild shriek as he clutched at
+her curls, she wrenched herself away and plunged inside the church. The
+boy dived in after her. Another scream, and I had dropped from my pony
+and leaped across the road. I pushed open the door against the two
+struggling together. With one grip at his coat-collar I broke his hold
+on the little girl and flung him outside.
+
+I have a faint recollection of a priest hurrying down the aisle toward
+the fighting children, as the little girl, freed from her assailant,
+dashed out of the door.
+
+"He jumped at her first, and shook her and pulled her hair," I cried, as
+the priest caught me by the shoulder. "I'm not going to see anybody
+pitched into, not a little girl, anyhow."
+
+I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At the
+corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her eyes
+blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her face.
+
+"I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and"--her voice softened and the defiant
+eyes grew mischievous--"you aren't a bob-cat. You're a--Look out!"
+
+She shouted the last words and disappeared up the narrow, crooked
+street, just as a fragment of rock whizzed over my shoulder. I jumped on
+my pony to dash away, when another rock just missed my head, and I saw
+the boy, Marcos, beside the church, ready for a third hurl. His black
+eyes flashed fire, and the grin of malice on his face showed all his
+fine white teeth.
+
+I was as mad as a boy can be. Instead of fleeing, I spurred my pony
+straight at him.
+
+"You little beast, I dare you to throw that rock at me! I dare you!" I
+cried.
+
+The boy dropped the missile and sped away after the girl. I followed in
+time to see them enter a doorway, six or seven houses up the way. Then I
+turned back, and in a minute I had overtaken our wagons trailing down to
+the ford of the Santa Fé River.
+
+"I thought mebby you'd gone back after Jondo and that holy podder," Rex
+Krane greeted me. "Better begin to wink naturally and look a little
+pleasanter now. We'll be in the Plazzer in two or three minutes."
+
+The drivers flourished their whips, the mules caught their spirit, and
+with bump and lurch and rattle we swung down the narrow crack between
+adobe walls that ended before the old Exchange Hotel at the corner of
+the Plaza.
+
+This open square in the center of the city was shaded by trees and
+littered with refuse. The Palace of the Governors fronted it along the
+entire north side, a long, low, one-story structure whose massive adobe
+walls defy the wearing years. Compared to the kingly palaces of my
+imagination, this royal dwelling seemed a very commonplace thing, and
+the wide portal, or veranda, that ran along its front looked like one of
+the sheds about the barracks at the fort rather than an entranceway for
+rulers. Yet this was the house of a ruler hostile to that flag to which
+I had thrown a good-by kiss, up at Fort Leavenworth.
+
+On the other three sides of the Plaza were other low adobe buildings,
+for the business of the city faced this central square.
+
+A crowd was gathered there when we reached it. Somebody standing before
+the Palace of the Governors was haranguing in fiery Spanish, if gesture
+and oral vehemence are true tokens.
+
+As our wagons rumbled up to the corner of the square the crowd broke up
+with a shout.
+
+"Los Americanos! Los Carros!"
+
+The cry went up everywhere as the rabble left the speaker to flock about
+us--men, women, children, Mexican, Spanish, Indian, with now and then a
+Saxon face among them. Our outfit was as well appointed as such a
+journey's end permitted. We were in our best clothes--clean-shaven
+gentlemen, well-dressed boys, and one girl, neat and comely in a
+dark-blue gown of thin stuff with white lace at throat and wrist; and
+last, and biggest of all, Aunty Boone, in a bright-green lawn with
+little white dots all over it.
+
+As I sat on my pony beside my uncle's wagon, I caught sight of the slim
+figure of Little Blue Flower, well back in the shade of the Plaza. She
+was watching Beverly, who sat in Jondo's wagon, staring at the crowd and
+seeing no one in particular. A minute later a tall young Indian boy
+stepped in front of her, and when he moved away she was gone.
+
+Many men came forward to greet Esmond Clarenden, and there were many
+inquiries regarding his goods and many exclamations of surprise that he
+had come alone with so valuable a cargo.
+
+It was the first time that Beverly and I had seen him among his equals.
+At Fort Leavenworth, where the army overruled everything else, men stood
+above him in authority or below him in business affairs; and while he
+never cringed to the one, nor patronized the other, where there are no
+competitors there are no true measures. That day in the Plaza of Santa
+Fé the merchant was in his own kingdom, where commerce stood above
+everything else.
+
+Moreover, this American merchant, following a danger-girt trail, had
+come in fearlessly, and those men of the Plaza knew that he was one to
+exact value for value in all his dealings. But I believe that his real
+power lay in his ready smile, his courtesy, his patience, and his
+up-bubbling good nature that made him a friendship-builder.
+
+Among the men who came to make acquaintance with the American trader was
+a Mexican merchant. Evidently he was a man of some importance, for an
+interpreter hastened to introduce him, explaining that this man had been
+away on a journey of some weeks among the mines of New Mexico and the
+Southwest, and only the day before he had come in from Taos.
+
+"You will find him a prince of merchants, a sound, unprejudiced business
+man. His name is Felix Narveo," the American interpreter added.
+
+The two men shook hands, greeting each other in the Spanish tongue. This
+Felix Narveo was well dressed and well groomed, but I recognized him at
+once as the Mexican of Fort Leavenworth and Independence and Council
+Grove.
+
+There was one man in that company, however, who did not come forward at
+all. When I first caught sight of him he was looking at me. I stared
+back at him with a boy's curiosity, but he did not take his eyes from me
+until I had dropped my own. After that I watched him keenly. He seemed
+almost too fair for a Mexican--a tall, spare-built man with black hair,
+and eyes so steely blue that they were almost black. Everywhere I saw
+him--at the corners of the little crowd and in the thick of it. He was
+an easy mark, for he towered above the rest, and, being slender, he
+seemed to worm his way quickly from place to place. At sight of him,
+Aunty Boone, who had been peering out with shining eyes, drew her head
+in as quick as a snake, under the shadow of the wagon cover, and her
+eyes grew dull. He had not seen her, but I could see that he was
+watching the remainder of us, and especially my uncle; and I began to
+feel afraid of him and to wish that he would leave the Plaza. It was
+years ago that all this happened, and yet to-day my fear of that man
+still sticks in my memory.
+
+When he turned away, suddenly I caught sight of the boy, whom I had
+flung out of the church, standing behind him, the boy whom the little
+girl had called Marcos. Although his face was dark and the man's was
+fair, there was a strong likeness between the two.
+
+This Marcos stared insolently at all of us. Then with a laugh and a
+grimace at me, he ran after the man and they disappeared together around
+the corner of the Palace of the Governors. And in the rush of strange
+sights I forgot them both for a time.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+"SANCTUARY"
+
+
+  Our dwelling-place in all generations.--Psalms xc, 1.
+
+
+They are wonderful to me still--those few brief days that followed.
+While Esmond Clarenden was forcing his business transactions to a speedy
+climax, he was all the time foreseeing Santa Fé under the United States
+Government. He had not come here as a spy, nor a speculator, but as a
+commerce-builder, knowing that the same business life would go on when
+the war cloud lifted, and that the same men who had made the plains
+commerce profitable under the Mexican flag would not be exiled when the
+Stars and Stripes should float above the old Palace of the Governors.
+Belief in the ethics of his calling and trust in manhood were ever a
+large part of his stock in trade, making him dare to go where he chose
+to go, and to do what he willed to do.
+
+But no concern for commerce nor extension of national territory
+disturbed our young minds in those sunlit days, as Mat and Beverly and I
+looked with the big, quick-seeing eyes of youth on this new strange
+world at the end of the trail.
+
+We were all together in the deserted dining-room on our first evening in
+Santa Fé when the man whom I had seen on the Plaza strolled leisurely
+in. He sat down at one of the farthest tables from us, and his eyes,
+glistening like blue-black steel, were fixed on us.
+
+Once at Fort Leavenworth I had watched in terror as a bird fluttered
+helplessly toward a still, steel-eyed snake holding it in thrall. And
+just at the moment when its enemy was ready to strike, Jondo had
+happened by and shot the snake's head off. The same terror possessed me
+now, and I began half-consciously to long for Jondo.
+
+In the midst of new sights I had hardly thought of him since he had left
+us out beyond the big arroyo. He had come into town at dusk, but soon
+after supper he had disappeared. His face was very pale, and his eyes
+had a strange look that never left them again. Something was different
+in Jondo from that day, but it did not change his gentle nature toward
+his fellow-men. During our short stay in Santa Fé we hardly saw him at
+all. We children were too busy with other things to ask questions, and
+everybody but Rex Krane was too busy to be questioned. Having nothing
+else to do, Rex became our chaperon, as Uncle Esmond must have foreseen
+he would be when he measured the young man in Independence on the day we
+left there.
+
+To-night Esmond Clarenden, smiling and good-natured, paid no heed to the
+sharp eyes of this stranger fixed on him.
+
+"What's the matter now, little weather-vane? You are always first to
+sense a coming change," he declared.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, I saw that man watching us like he knew us, out there on
+the Plaza to-day. Who is he?" I asked, in a low tone.
+
+"His name is Ferdinand Ramero. You will find him watching everywhere.
+Let that man alone as you would a snake," my uncle warned us.
+
+"Is that his boy?" I asked.
+
+"What boy?" Uncle Esmond inquired.
+
+"Marcos, the boy I pitched endways out of the church. He's bigger than
+Bev, too," I declared, proudly.
+
+"Gail Clarenden, are you crazy?" Uncle Esmond exclaimed.
+
+"No, I'm not," I insisted, and then I told what had happened at the
+church, adding, "I saw Marcos with that man in the Plaza, and they went
+away together."
+
+Esmond Clarenden's face grew grave.
+
+"What kind of a looking child was she, Gail?" he asked, after a pause.
+
+"Oh, she had yellow hair and big sort of dark eyes! She could squeal
+like anything. She wasn't a baby girl at all, but a regular little
+fighter kind of a girl."
+
+I grew bashful all at once and hesitated, but my uncle did not seem to
+hear me, for he turned to Rex Krane and said, in low, earnest tones:
+
+"Krane, if you can locate that child for me you will do me an invaluable
+service. It was largely on her account that I came here now, and it's a
+god-send to have a fellow like you to save time for me. Every man has
+his uses. Your service will be a big one to me."
+
+The young man's face flushed and his eyes shone with a new light.
+
+"If any of you happen to see that girl let me know at once," my uncle
+said, turning to us, "but, remember, don't act as if you were hunting
+for her."
+
+"I know now right where she lives. It's up a crooked street by that
+church. I saw her run in there," I insisted.
+
+"Every hut looks like every other hut, and every little Mex looks like
+every other little Mex," Beverly declared.
+
+Uncle Esmond smiled, but the stern lines in his face hardly broke as he
+said, earnestly, "Keep your eyes open and, whatever you do, stay close
+to Krane while Bill helps me here, and don't forget to watch for that
+little girl when you are sight-seeing."
+
+"There's not much to see, as Bev says, but the outside of 'dobe walls
+five feet thick," Rex Krane observed. "But if you know which wall to
+look through, the lookin' may be easy enough. Seein' things is my
+specialty, and we'll get this princess if we have to slay a giant and an
+ogre and take a few dozen Mexican scalps first. The plot just thickens.
+It's a great game." The tall New-Englander would not take life seriously
+anywhere, and, with our trust in his guardianship, we could want no
+better chaperon.
+
+That night Beverly Clarenden and I were in fairyland.
+
+"It's the princess, Bev, the princess we were looking for," I joyously
+asserted. "And, oh, Bev, she is beautiful, but snappy-like, too. She
+called me a 'big brown bob-cat', and then she apologized, just as nice
+as could be."
+
+"And this little Marcos cuss, he'll be the ogre," Beverly declared. "But
+who'll we have for the giant? That priest, footing it out by that dry
+creek-thing they call a 'royo?"
+
+"Oh no, no! He and Jondo made up together, and Jondo's nobody's bad man
+even in a story. It will be that Ferdinand Ramero," I insisted. "But,
+say, Bev, Jondo wrote a new name on the register this evening, or
+somebody wrote it for him, maybe. It wasn't his own writing. 'Jean
+Deau.' I saw it in big, round, back-slanting letters. Why did he do
+that?"
+
+"Well, I reckon that's his real name in big, round, back-slanting
+letters down here," Beverly replied. "It's French, and we have just been
+spelling it like it sounds, that's all."
+
+"Well, maybe so," I commented, and when I fell asleep it was to dream of
+a princess and Jondo by a strange name, but the same Jondo.
+
+The air of New Mexico puts iron into the blood. The trail life had
+hardened us all, but the finishing touch for Rex Krane came in the
+invigorating breath of that mountain-cooled, sun-cleansed atmosphere of
+Santa Fé. Shrewd, philosophic, brave-hearted like his historic ancestry,
+he laid his plans carefully now, sure of doing what he was set to do.
+And the wholesome sense of really serving the man who had measured his
+worth at a glance gave him a pleasure he had not known before. Of
+course, he moved slowly and indifferently. One could never imagine Rex
+Krane hurrying about anything.
+
+"We'll just 'prospect,' as Daniel Boone says," he declared, as he
+marshaled us for the day. "We are strangers, sight-seein', got no other
+business on earth, least of all any to take us up to this old San Miguel
+Church for unholy purposes. 'Course if we see a pretty little dark-eyed,
+golden-haired lassie anywhere, we'll just make a diagram of the spot
+she's stand'n' on, for future reference. We're in this game to win, but
+we don't do no foolish hurryin' about it."
+
+So we wandered away, a happy quartet, and the city offered us strange
+sights on every hand. It was all so old, so different, so silent, so
+baffling--the narrow, crooked street; the solid house-walls that hemmed
+them in; the strange tongue, strange dress, strange customs; the absence
+of smiling faces or friendly greetings; the sudden mystery of seeking
+for one whom we must not seem to seek, and the consciousness of an
+enemy, Ferdinand Ramero, whom we must avoid--that it is small wonder
+that we lived in fairyland.
+
+We saw the boy, Marcos, here and there, sometimes staring defiantly at
+us from some projected angle; sometimes slipping out of sight as we
+approached; sometimes quarreling with other children at their play. But
+nowhere, since the moment when I had seen the door close on her up that
+crooked street beside the old church, could we find any trace of the
+little girl.
+
+In the dim morning light of our fifth day in Santa Fé, a man on
+horseback, carrying a big, bulky bundle in his arms, slipped out of the
+crooked, shadow-filled street beside the old church of San Miguel. He
+halted a moment before the structure and looked up at the ancient crude
+spire outlined against the sky, then sped down the narrow way by the
+hotel at the end of the trail. He crossed the Plaza swiftly and dashed
+out beyond the Palace of the Governors and turned toward the west.
+
+Aunty Boone, who slept in the family wagon--or under it--in the
+inclosure at the rear of the hotel, had risen in time to peer out of the
+wooden gate just as the rider was passing. It was still too dark to see
+the man's face distinctly, but his form, and the burden he carried, and
+the trappings of the horse she noted carefully, as was her habit.
+
+"Up to cussedness, that man is. Mighty long an' slim. Lemme see! Humph!
+I know _him_. I'll go wake up somebody."
+
+As the woman leaned far out of the gate she caught sight of a little
+Indian girl crouching outside of the wall.
+
+"You got no business here, you, Little Blue Flower! Where do you live
+when you _do_ live?"
+
+Little Blue Flower pointed toward the west.
+
+"Why you come hangin' 'round here?" the African woman demanded.
+
+"Father Josef send me to help the people who help me," she said, in her
+soft, low voice.
+
+"Go back to your own folks, then, and tell your Daddy Joseph a man just
+stole a big bunch of something and rode south with it. He can look after
+that man. We can get along somehow. Now go."
+
+The voice was like a growl, and the little Indian maiden shrank back in
+the shadow of the wall. The next minute Aunty Boone was rapping softly
+on the door of the room whose guest had registered as Jean Deau. Ten
+minutes later another horseman left the street beside the hotel and
+crossed the Plaza, riding erect and open-faced as only Jondo could ride.
+Then the African woman sought out Rex Krane, and in a few brief
+sentences told him what had been taking place. All of which Rex was far
+too wise to repeat to Beverly and me.
+
+That afternoon it happened that we left Mat Nivers at the hotel, while
+Rex Krane and Beverly and I strolled out of town on a well-beaten trail
+leading toward the west.
+
+"It looks interestin'. Let's go on a ways," Rex commented, lazily.
+
+Nobody would have guessed from his manner but that he was indulgently
+helping us to have a good time with certain restriction as to where we
+should go, and what we might say, nor that, of the three, he was the
+most alert and full of definite purpose.
+
+We sat down beside the way as a line of burros loaded with firewood from
+the mountains trailed slowly by, with their stolid-looking drivers
+staring at us in silent unfriendliness.
+
+The last driver was the tall young Indian boy whom I had seen standing
+in front of Little Blue Flower in the crowd of the Plaza. He paid no
+heed to our presence, and his face was expressionless as he passed us.
+
+"Stupid as his own burro, and not nearly so handsome," Beverly
+commented.
+
+The boy turned quietly and stared at my cousin, who had not meant to be
+overheard. Nobody could read the meaning of that look, for his face was
+as impenetrable as the adobe walls of the Palace of the Governors.
+
+"Bev, you are laying up trouble. An Indian never forgets, and you'll be
+finding that fellow under your pillow every night till he gets your
+scalp," Rex Krane declared, as we went on our way.
+
+Beverly laughed and stiffened his sturdy young arms.
+
+"He's welcome to it if he can get it," he said, carelessly. "How many
+million miles do we go to-day, Mr. Krane?"
+
+"Yonder is your terminal," Rex replied, pointing to a little settlement
+of mud huts huddling together along the trail. "They call that little
+metropolis Agua Fria--'pure water'--because there ain't no water there.
+It's the last place to look for anybody. That's why we look there. You
+will go in like gentlemen, though--and don't be surprised nor make any
+great noise over anything you see there. If a riot starts I'll do the
+startin'."
+
+Carelessly as this was said, we understood the command behind it.
+
+Near the village, I happened to glance back over the way we had come,
+and there, striding in, soft-footed as a cat behind us, was that young
+Indian. I turned again just as we reached the first straggling houses at
+the outskirts of the settlement, but he had disappeared.
+
+It was a strange little village, this Agua Fria. Its squat dwellings,
+with impenetrable adobe walls, had sat out there on the sandy edge of
+the dry Santa Fé River through many and many a lagging decade; a single
+trail hardly more than a cart-width across ran through it. A church,
+mud-walled and ancient, rose above the low houses, but of order or
+uniformity of outline there was none. Hands long gone to dust had shaped
+those crude dwellings on this sunny plain where only man decays, though
+what he builds endures.
+
+Nobody was in sight and there was something awesome in the very silence
+everywhere. Rex lounged carelessly along, as one who had no particular
+aim in view and was likely to turn back at any moment. But Beverly and I
+stared hard in every direction.
+
+At the end of the village two tiny mud huts, separated from each other
+by a mere crack of space, encroached on this narrow way even a trifle
+more than the neighboring huts. As we were passing these a soft Hopi
+voice called:
+
+"Beverly! Beverly!" And Little Blue Flower, peeping shyly out from the
+narrow opening, lifted a warning hand.
+
+"The church! The church!" she repeated, softly, then darted out of
+sight, as if the brown wall were but thick brown vapor into which she
+melted.
+
+"Why, it's our own little girl!" Beverly exclaimed, with a smile, just
+as Little Blue Flower turned away, but I am sure she caught his words
+and saw his smile.
+
+We would have called to her, but Rex Krane evidently did not hear her,
+for he neither halted nor turned his head. So, remembering our command
+to be quiet, we passed on.
+
+"I guess we are about to the end of this 'pure water' resort. It's
+gettin' late. Let's go back home now," our leader said, dispiritedly. So
+we turned back toward Santa Fé.
+
+At the narrow opening where we had seen Little Blue Flower the young
+Indian boy stood upright and motionless, and again he gave no sign of
+seeing us.
+
+"Let's just run over to that church a minute while we are here. Looks
+interestin' over there," Rex suggested.
+
+I wondered if he could have heard Little Blue Flower, and thought her
+suggestion was a good one, or if this was a mere whim of his.
+
+The church, a crude mission structure, stood some distance from the
+trail. As we entered a priest came forward to meet us.
+
+"Can I serve you?" he asked.
+
+The voice was clear and sweet--the same voice that we had heard out
+beyond the arroyo southeast of town, the same face, too, that we had
+seen, with the big dark eyes full of fire. Involuntarily I recalled how
+his hand had pointed to the west when he had pronounced a blessing that
+day.
+
+"Thank you, Father--" Rex began.
+
+"Josef," the holy man said.
+
+"Yes, thank you, Father Josef. We are just looking at things. No wish to
+be rude, you know."
+
+Rex lifted his cap and stood bareheaded in the priestly presence.
+
+Father Josef smiled.
+
+"Look here, then."
+
+He led us up the aisle to where, cuddled down on a crude seat, a little
+girl lay asleep. Her golden hair fell like a cloud about her face,
+flowing over the edge of the seat almost to the floor. Her cheeks were
+pink and warm, and her dimpled white hands were clasped together. I had
+caught Mat Nivers napping many a time, but never in my life had I seen
+anything half so sweet as this sleeping girl in the beauty of her
+innocence. And I knew at a glance that this was the same girl whom I had
+seen before at the door of the old Church of San Miguel.
+
+"Same as grown-ups when the sermon is dull. Thank you, Father Josef.
+It's a pretty picture. We must be goin' now." Rex Krane dropped some
+silver in the priest's hand and we left the church.
+
+At the door we passed the Indian boy again, and a third time he gave no
+sign of seeing us. I was the only one who was troubled, however, for Rex
+and Beverly did not seem to notice him. As we left the village I caught
+sight of him again following behind us.
+
+"Look there, Bev," I said, in a low voice. Beverly glanced back, then
+turned and stared defiantly at the boy.
+
+"Maybe Rex knows about Indians," he said, lightly. "That's three times I
+found him fooling around in less than an hour, but my scalp is still
+hanging over one ear."
+
+He pushed back his cap and pulled at his bright brown locks. Happy Bev!
+How headstrong, brave, and care-free he walked the plains that day.
+
+The evening shadows were lengthening and the peaks of the
+Sangre-de-Christo range were taking on the scarlet stains of sunset when
+we raced into town at last. Rex Krane went at once to find Uncle Esmond,
+and Beverly and I hurried to the hotel to tell Mat of all that we had
+seen.
+
+Her gray eyes were glowing when she met us at the door and led us into a
+corner where we could talk by ourselves.
+
+"Uncle Esmond has sold everything to that Mexican merchant, Felix
+Narveo, and we are going to start home just as soon as he can find that
+little girl."
+
+"Oh, we've found her! We've found her!" Beverly burst out. But Mat
+hushed him at once.
+
+"Don't yell it to the sides, Beverly Clarenden. Now listen!" Mat dropped
+her voice almost to a whisper. "He's going to take that little girl back
+with us as far as Fort Leavenworth, and then send her on to St. Louis
+where she has some folks, I guess."
+
+"Isn't he a clipper, though," Beverly exclaimed.
+
+"But what if the Indians should get us?" I asked, anxiously. "I heard
+the colonel at Fort Leavenworth just give it to Uncle Esmond one night
+for bringing us."
+
+"You are safe or you are not safe everywhere. And if we got in here I
+reckon we can get out," Mat reasoned, philosophically. "And Uncle Esmond
+isn't afraid and he's set on doing it. We aren't going to take any goods
+back, so we can travel lots faster, and everything will be put in the
+wagons so we can grab out what's worth most in a hurry if we have to."
+
+So we talked matters over now as we had done on that April day out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. But now we knew something of what
+might be before us on that homeward journey. Thrilling hours those were.
+It is no wonder that, schooled by their events, young as we were, we put
+away childish things.
+
+That night while we slept things happened of which we knew nothing for
+many years. There was no moon and the glaring yellow daytime plain was
+full of gray-edged shadows, under the far stars of a midnight blue sky,
+as Esmond Clarenden took the same trail that we had followed in the
+afternoon. On to the village of Agua Fria, black and silent, he rode
+until he came to the church door. Here he dismounted, and, quickly
+securing his horse, he entered the building. The chill midnight wind
+swept in through the open door behind him, threatening to blot out the
+flickering candles about the altar. Father Josef came slowly down the
+aisle to meet him, while a tall man, crouching like a beast about to
+spring, rather than a penitent at prayer, shrank down in the shadowy
+corner inside the doorway.
+
+The merchant, solid and square-built and fearless, stood before the
+young priest baring his head as he spoke.
+
+"I come on a grave errand, good Father. This afternoon my two nephews
+and a young man from New England came in here and saw a child asleep
+under protection of this holy sanctuary. That child's name is Eloise St.
+Vrain. I had hoped to find her mother able to care for her. She--cannot
+do it, as you know. I must do it for her now. I come here to claim what
+it is my duty to protect."
+
+At these words the crouching figure sprang up and Ferdinand Ramero, his
+steel-blue eyes blazing, came forward with cat-like softness. But the
+sturdy little man before the priest stood, hat in hand, undisturbed by
+any presence there.
+
+"Father Josef," the tall man began, in a voice of menace, "you will not
+protect this American here. I have confessed to you and you know that
+this man is my enemy. He comes, a traitor to his own country and a spy
+to ours. He has risked the lives of three children by bringing them
+across the plains. He comes alone where large wagon-trains dare not
+venture. He could not go back to the States now. And lastly, good
+Father, he has no right to the child that he claims is here."
+
+"To the child that is here, asleep beside our sacred altar," Father
+Josef said, sternly.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned upon the priest fiercely.
+
+"Even the Church might go too far," he muttered, threateningly.
+
+"It might, but it never has," the holy man agreed. Then turning to
+Esmond Clarenden, he continued: "You must see that these charges do not
+stand against you. Our Holy Church offers no protection, outside of
+these four walls, to a traitor or a spy or even an unpatriotic
+speculator seeking to profit by the needs of war. Nor could it sanction
+giving the guardianship of a child to one who daringly imperils his own
+life or the lives of children, nor can it sanction any rights of
+guardianship unless due cause be given for granting them."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero smiled as the priest concluded. He was a handsome man,
+with the sort of compelling magnetism that gives controlling power to
+its possessor. But because I knew my uncle so well in after years, I can
+picture Esmond Clarenden as he stood that night before the young priest
+in the little mud-walled church of Agua Fria. And I can picture the
+tall, threatening man in the shadows beside him. But never have I held
+an image of him showing a sign of fear.
+
+"Father Josef, I am willing to make any explanation to you. As for this
+man whom you call Ramero here--up in the States he bears another name
+and I finished with him there six years ago--I have no time nor breath
+to waste on him. Are these your demands?" my uncle asked.
+
+"They are," Father Josef replied.
+
+"Do I take away the little girl, Eloise, unmolested, if you are
+satisfied?" Esmond Clarenden demanded, first making sure of his bargain,
+like the merchant he was.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero stiffened insolently at these words, and looked
+threateningly at Father Josef.
+
+"You do," the holy man replied, something of the flashing light in his
+eyes alone revealing what sort of a soldier the State had lost when this
+man took on churchly orders.
+
+"I am no traitor to my flag, since my full commerical purpose was
+known and sanctioned by the military authority at Fort Leavenworth
+before I left there. I brought no aid to my country's enemy because my
+full cargo was bargained for by your merchant, Felix Narveo, before the
+declaration of war was made. I merely acted as his agent bringing his
+own to him. I have come here as a spy only in this--that I shall profit
+in strictly legitimate business by the knowledge I hold of commercial
+conditions and my acquaintance with your citizens when this war for
+territory ends, no matter how its results may run. I deal in wholesome
+trade, not in human hate. I offer value for value, not blood for blood."
+
+Up to this time a smile had lighted the merchant's eyes. But now his
+voice lowered, and the lines about his mouth hardened.
+
+"As to the guardianship of children, Father Josef, I am a bachelor who
+for nearly nine years have given a home, education, support, and
+affection to three orphan children, until, though young in years, they
+are wise and capable. So zealous was I for their welfare, that when word
+came to me--no matter how--that a company of Mexicans were on their way
+to Independence, Missouri, ostensibly to seek the protection of the
+United States Government and to settle on the frontier there, but really
+to seize these children in my absence, and carry them into the heart of
+old Mexico, I decided at once that they would be safer with me in New
+Mexico than without me in Missouri.
+
+"In the night I passed this Mexican gang at Council Grove, waiting to
+seize me in the morning. At Pawnee Rock a storm scattered a band of
+Kiowa Indians to whom these same Mexicans had given a little Indian
+slave girl as a reward for attacking our train if the Mexicans should
+fail to get us themselves. Through every peril that threatens that long
+trail we came safely because the hand of the Lord preserved us."
+
+Esmond Clarenden paused, and the priest bowed a moment in prayer.
+
+"If I have dared fate in this journey," the merchant went on, "it was
+not to be foolhardy, nor for mere money gains, but to keep my own with
+me, and to rescue the daughter of Mary St. Vrain, of Santa Fé, and take
+her to a place of safety. It was her mother's last pleading call, as
+you, Father Josef, very well know, since you yourself heard her last
+words and closed her dead eyes. Under the New Mexican law, the
+guardianship of her property rests with others. Mine is the right to
+protect her and, by the God of heaven, I mean to do it!"
+
+Esmond Clarenden's voice was deep and powerful now, filling the old
+church with its vehemence.
+
+Up by the altar, the little girl sat up suddenly and looked about her,
+terrified by the dim light and the strange faces there.
+
+"Don't be afraid, Eloise."
+
+How strangely changed was this gentle tone from the vehement voice of a
+moment ago.
+
+The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no child
+ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held Beverly and me
+in loving obedience all the days of our lives with him.
+
+Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the girl
+reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm protectingly
+about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with tears; the head with its
+sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned against him for a moment. Then the
+fighting spirit came back to her, so early in her young life had the
+need for defending herself been forced upon her.
+
+"Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded.
+
+"You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly.
+
+"And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good! Let's go
+now!"
+
+She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at Esmond
+Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open door.
+
+"Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this good
+man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your mother would
+want you to be." His musical voice was full of pathos.
+
+Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the aisle.
+
+"I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand
+between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from her
+face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek.
+
+Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned hastily
+toward the altar.
+
+"Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp, bitter
+voice filling the church.
+
+"By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so long as
+you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them you reckon with
+me."
+
+Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing gesture.
+
+"I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for that
+sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would have been safe
+here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as long as you choose in
+the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot outside these walls and I say
+again you reckon with me."
+
+His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and his
+charge clinging to his arm.
+
+"Set but a foot outside these walls and _you_ will reckon with _me_."
+
+It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up suddenly
+behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.
+
+"You meant to hide in the old Church of San Miguel because it is so near
+to the home where you have kept this little girl. But Gail Clarenden
+blocked your game and found your house and this child in the church door
+before our wagon-train had reached the end of the trail. You found this
+church your nearest refuge, meaning to leave it again early in the
+morning. I have waited here for you all day, protected by the same means
+that brought word to Santa Fé this morning. Come out now if you wish.
+You dare not follow me to the States, but I dare to come to your land.
+Can you meet me here?" Jondo was handsome in his sunny moods. In his
+anger he was splendid.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero dropped to a seat beside Father Josef.
+
+"I have told you I cannot face that man. I will stay here now," he said,
+in a low voice to the priest. "But I do not stay here always, and I can
+send where I do not follow," he added, defiantly.
+
+Esmond Clarenden was already on his horse with his little charge, snugly
+wrapped, in his arms.
+
+Father Josef at the portal lifted his hand in sign of blessing.
+
+"Peace be with you. Do not tarry long," he said. Then, turning to Jondo,
+he gazed into the strong, handsome face. "Go in peace. He will not
+follow. But forget not to love even your enemies."
+
+In the midnight dimness Jondo's bright smile glowed with all its
+courageous sweetness.
+
+"I finished that fight long ago," he said. "I come only to help others."
+
+Long these two, priest and plainsman, stood there with clasped hands,
+the gray night mists of the Santa Fé Valley round about them and all the
+far stars of the midnight sky gleaming above them.
+
+Then Jondo mounted his horse and rode away up the trail toward Santa Fé.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+  I will even make a way in the wilderness.
+                              --ISAIAH.
+
+
+Bent's fort stood alone in the wide wastes of the upper Arkansas valley.
+From the Atlantic to the Pacific shores there was in America no more
+isolated spot holding a man's home. Out on the north bank of the
+Arkansas, in a grassy river bottom, with rolling treeless plains
+rippling away on every hand, it reared its high yellow walls in solitary
+defiance, mute token of the white man's conquering hand in a savage
+wilderness. It was a great rectangle built of adobe brick with walls six
+feet through at the base, sloping to only a third of that width at the
+top, eighteen feet from the ground. Round bastions, thirty feet high, at
+two diagonal corners, gave outlook and defense. Immense wooden doors
+guarded a wide gateway looking eastward down the Arkansas River. The
+interior arrangement was after the Mexican custom of building, with
+rooms along the outer walls all opening into a big _patio_, or open
+court. A cross-wall separated this court from the large corral inside
+the outer walls at the rear. A portal, or porch, roofed with thatch on
+cedar poles, ran around the entire inner rectangle, sheltering the rooms
+somewhat from the glare of the white-washed court. A little world in
+itself was this Bent's Fort, a self-dependent community in the solitary
+places. The presiding genius of this community was William Bent, whose
+name is graven hard and deep in the annals of the eastern slopes of the
+Rocky Mountain country in the earlier decades of the nineteenth century.
+
+Hither in the middle '40's the wild trails of the West converged:
+northward, from the trading-posts of Bent and St. Vrain on the Platte;
+south, over the Raton Pass from Taos and Santa Fé; westward, from the
+fur-bearing plateaus of the Rockies, where trappers and traders brought
+their precious piles of pelts down the Arkansas; and eastward, half a
+thousand miles from the Missouri River frontier--the pathways of a
+restless, roving people crossed each other here. And it was toward this
+wilderness crossroads that Esmond Clarenden directed his course in that
+summertime of my boyhood years.
+
+The heat of a July sun beat pitilessly down on the scorching plains. The
+weary trail stretched endlessly on toward a somewhere in the yellow
+distance that meant shelter and safety. Spiral gusts of air gathering
+out of the low hills to the southeast picked up great cones of dust and
+whirled them zigzagging across the brown barren face of the land. Every
+draw was bone dry; even the greener growths along their sheltered
+sides, where the last moisture hides itself, wore a sickly sallow hue.
+
+Under the burden of this sun-glare, and through these stifling
+dust-cones, our little company struggled sturdily forward.
+
+We had left Santa Fé as suddenly and daringly as we had entered it, the
+very impossibility of risking such a journey again being our, greatest
+safeguard. Esmond Clarenden was doing the thing that couldn't be done,
+and doing it quickly.
+
+In the gray dawn after that midnight ride to Agua Fria a little Indian
+girl had slipped like a brown shadow across the Plaza. Stopping at the
+door of the Exchange Hotel, she leaned against the low slab of petrified
+wood that for many a year served as a loafer's roost before the hotel
+doorway. Inside the building Jondo caught the clear twitter of a bird's
+song at daybreak, twice repeated. A pause, and then it came again,
+fainter this time, as if the bird were fluttering away through the Plaza
+treetops.
+
+In that pause, the gate in the wall had opened softly, and Aunty Boone's
+sharp eyes peered through the crack. The girl caught one glimpse of the
+black face, then, dropping a tiny leather bag beside the stone, she sped
+away.
+
+A tall young Indian boy, prone on the ground behind a pile of refuse in
+the shadowy Plaza, lifted his head in time to see the girl glide along
+the portal of the Palace of the Governors and disappear at the corner of
+the structure. Then he rose and followed her with silent moccasined
+feet.
+
+And Jondo, who had hurried to the hotel door, saw only the lithe form of
+an Indian boy across the Plaza. Then his eye fell on the slender bag
+beside the stone slab. It held a tiny scrap of paper, bearing a message:
+
+_Take long trail QUICK. Mexicans follow far_. Trust bearer anywhere.
+JOSEF.
+
+An hour later we were on our way toward the open prairies and the Stars
+and Stripes afloat above Fort Leavenworth.
+
+In the wagon beside Mat Nivers was the little girl whose face had been
+clear in the mystic vision of my day-dreams on the April morning when I
+had gone out to watch for the big fish on the sand-bars; the morning
+when I had felt the first heart-throb of desire for the trail and the
+open plains whereon my life-story would later be written.
+
+We carried no merchandise now. Everything bent toward speed and safety.
+Our ponies and mules were all fresh ones--secured for this journey two
+hours after we had come into Santa Fé--save for the big sturdy dun
+creature that Uncle Esmond, out of pure sentiment, allowed to trail
+along behind the wagons toward his native heath in the Missouri bottoms.
+
+We had crossed the Gloriettas and climbed over the Raton Pass rapidly,
+and now we were nearing the upper Arkansas, where the old trail turns
+east for its long stretch across the prairies.
+
+As far as the eye could see there was no living thing save our own
+company in all the desolate plain aquiver with heat and ashy dry. The
+line of low yellow bluffs to the southeast hardly cast a shadow save for
+a darker dun tint here and there.
+
+At midday we drooped to a brief rest beside the sun-baked trail.
+
+"You all jus' one color," Aunty Boone declared. "You all like the dus'
+you made of 'cep' Little Lees an' me. She's white and I'm black. Nothin'
+else makes a pin streak on the face of the earth."
+
+Aunty Boone flourished on deserts and her black face glistened in the
+sunlight. Deep in the shadow of the wagon cover the face of Eloise St.
+Vrain--"Little Lees," Aunty Boone had named her--bloomed pink as a wild
+rose in its frame of soft hair. She had become Aunty Boone's meat and
+drink from the moment the strange African woman first saw her. This
+regard, never expressed in caress nor word of tenderness, showed itself
+in warding from the little girl every wind of heaven that might visit
+her too roughly. Not that Eloise gave up easily. Her fighting spirit
+made her rebel against weariness and the hardships of trail life new to
+her. She fitted into our ways marvelously well, demanding equal rights,
+but no favors. By some gentle appeal, hardly put into words, we knew
+that Uncle Esmond did not want us to talk to her about herself. And
+Beverly and Mat and I, however much we might speculate among ourselves,
+never thought of resisting his wishes.
+
+Eloise was gracious with Mat, but evidently the boy Marcos had made her
+wary of all boys. She paid no attention to Beverly and me at first. All
+her pretty smiles and laughing words were for Uncle Esmond and Jondo.
+And she was lovely. Never in all these long and varied years have I seen
+another child with such a richness of coloring, nor such a mass of
+golden hair rippling around her forehead and falling in big, soft curls
+about her neck. Her dark eyes with their long black lashes gave to her
+face its picturesque beauty, and her plump, dimpled arms and sturdy
+little form bespoke the wholesome promise of future years.
+
+But the life of the trail was not meant for such as she, and I know now
+that the assurance of having saved her from some greater misfortune
+alone comforted Uncle Esmond and Jondo in this journey. For Aunty Boone
+was right when she declared, "They tote together always."
+
+As we grouped together under that shelterless glare, getting what
+comfort we could out of the brief rest, Jondo sprang up suddenly, his
+eyes aglow with excitement.
+
+"What's the matter? Because if it isn't, this is one hot day to pretend
+like it is," Rex Krane asserted.
+
+He was lying on the hot earth beside the trail, his hat pulled over his
+face. Beverly and Bill Banney were staring dejectedly across the
+landscape, seeing nothing. I sat looking off toward the east, wondering
+what lay behind those dun bluffs in the distance.
+
+"Something is wrong back yonder," Jondo declared, making a half-circle
+with his hand toward the trail behind us.
+
+My heart seemed to stop mid-beat with a kind of fear I had never known
+before. Aunty Boone had always been her own defender. Mat Nivers had
+cared for me so much that I never doubted her bigger power. It was for
+Eloise, Aunty Boone's "Little Lees," that my fear leaped up.
+
+I can close my eyes to-day and see again the desolate land banded by the
+broad white trail. I can see the dusty wagons and our tired mules with
+drooping heads. I can see the earnest, anxious faces of Esmond Clarenden
+and Jondo; Beverly and Bill Banney hardly grasping Jondo's meaning; Rex
+Krane, half asleep on the edge of the trail. I can see Mat Nivers, brown
+and strong, and Aunty Boone oozing sweat at every pore. But these are
+only the setting for that little girl on the wagon-seat with white face
+and big dark eyes, under the curl-shadowed forehead.
+
+Jondo stared hard toward the hills in the southeast. Then he turned to
+my uncle with grim face and burning eyes; His was a wonderful voice,
+clear, strong and penetrating. But in danger he always spoke in a low
+tone.
+
+"I've watched those dust-whirls for an hour. The wind isn't making all
+of them. Somebody is stirring them up for cover. Every whirl has an
+Indian in it. It's all of ten miles to Bent's. We must fight them off
+and let the others run for it, before they cut us off in front. Look at
+that!"
+
+The exclamation burst from the plainsman's lips.
+
+That was my last straight looking. The rest is ever a kaleidoscope of
+action thrilled through with terror. What I saw was a swiftly moving
+black splotch coming out of the hills, with huge dust-heaps flying here
+and there before it. Then a yellow cloud spiral blinded our sight as a
+gust of hot wind swept round us. I remember Jondo's stern face and
+blazing eyes and his words:
+
+"Mexicans behind the Indians!"
+
+And Uncle Esmond's voice:
+
+"Narveo said they would get us, but I hoped we had outrun them."
+
+The far plains seemed spotted with Indians racing toward us, and coming
+at an angle from the southeast a dozen Mexicans swept in to cut us off
+from the trail in front.
+
+I remember a quick snatching of precious things in boxes placed for such
+a moment as this, a quick snapping of halter ropes around the ponies'
+necks, a gleaming of gun-barrels in the hot sunlight; a solid cloud of
+dust rolling up behind us, bigger and nearer every second; and the
+urgent voice of Jondo: "Ride for your lives!"
+
+And the race began. On the trail somewhere before us was Bent's Fort. We
+could only hope to reach it soon. We did not even look behind as we tore
+down that dusty wilderness way.
+
+At the first motion Aunty Boone had seized Eloise St. Vrain with one
+hand and the big dun mule's neck-strap with the other.
+
+"Go to the devil, you tigers and cannibals!" She roared with the growl
+of a desert lioness, shaking her big black fist at the band of Mexicans
+pouring out of the hills.
+
+And dun mule and black woman and white-faced, terror-stricken child
+became only a dust-cloud far in front of us. Mat and Beverly and I
+leaped to the ponies and followed the lead of the African woman. Nearest
+to us was Rex Krane, always a shield for the younger and less able. And
+behind him, as defense for the rear and protection for the van, came
+Esmond Clarenden and Bill Banney, with Jondo nearest the enemy, where
+danger was greatest.
+
+I tell it calmly, but I lived it in a blind whirl. The swift hoof-beat,
+the wild Indian yells, the whirl of arrows and whiz of bullets, the
+onrush to outrun the Mexicans who were trying to cut us off from the
+trail in front. Lived it! I lived ages in it. And then an arrow cut my
+pony's flank, making him lurch from the trail, a false step, the pony
+staggering, falling. A sharp pain in my shoulder, the smell of fire, a
+shriek from demon throats, the glaring sunlight on the rocking plain,
+searing my eyes in a mad whirlpool of blinding light, the fading
+sounds--and then--all was black and still.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When I opened my eyes again I was lying on a cot. Bare adobe walls were
+around me, and a high plastered roof resting on cedar poles sheltered
+that awful glare from my eyes. Through the open door I could see the
+rain falling on the bare ground of the court, filling the shallow places
+with puddles.
+
+I tried to lift myself to see more as shrieks of childish laughter
+caught my ear, but there was a sickish heat in my dry skin, an evil
+taste in my throat, and a sharp pain in my left shoulder; and I fell
+back again.
+
+Another shriek, and Eloise St. Vrain came before my doorway, pattering
+with bare white feet out into the center of the _patio_ puddles and
+laughing at the dashing summer shower. Her damp hair, twisted into a
+knot on top of her head, was curling tightly about her temples and neck,
+her eyes were shining; her wet clothes slapping at her bare white
+knees--a picture of the delicious happiness of childhood. A little child
+of three or four years was toddling after her. He was brown as a berry,
+and at first I thought he was a little Indian. I could hear Mat and
+Beverly splashing about safe and joyous somewhere, and I forgot my fever
+and pain and the dread of that awful glare coming again to sear my
+burning eyeballs as I watched and listened. A louder shriek as the
+little child ran behind Eloise and gave her a vigorous shove for one so
+small.
+
+"Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you've done," Mat cried; and then Beverly
+was picking up "Little Lees," sprawling, all mud-smeared and happy, in
+the very middle of the court.
+
+The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a wicked
+mischief, but he said not a word.
+
+Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a cot
+beyond mine. An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me. I stared
+back at him and neither of us spoke. His head was bandaged and his cheek
+was swollen, but with my memory for faces, even Indian faces, I knew him
+at once for the boy who had followed us into Agua Fria and out of it
+again.
+
+Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at me.
+
+"Are you awake?" Eloise asked.
+
+Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and Beverly
+and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious. They gave no heed to the
+Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep. Once, however, I caught him
+watching Beverly, and his eyes were like dagger points.
+
+"We are having the best times. You must get well right away, because we
+are going to stay." They all began to clatter, noisily.
+
+Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped suddenly.
+
+"Clear out of here, you magpies," he commanded, and they scuttled away
+into the warm rain and the puddles again.
+
+"Do you want anything, Gail?" Rex asked, bending over me.
+
+I drew his head down with my right arm.
+
+"I want that Indian out of here," I whispered.
+
+"Out he goes," Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew it the
+boy was taken away. When we were alone the tall young man sat down
+beside me.
+
+"You want to ask me a million questions. I'll answer 'em to save you
+the trouble," he began, in his comfortable way.
+
+"You are wounded in your shoulder. Slight, bullet, that's Mexican; deep,
+arrow, that's Indian. But you are here and pretty much alive and you
+will be well soon."
+
+"And Uncle Esmond? Jondo? Bill?" I began, lifting myself up on my well
+arm.
+
+"Keep quiet. I'll answer faster. Everybody all right. Clarenden and
+Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a military
+escort permits."
+
+I dropped down again.
+
+"The U.S. Army, en route for perdition, via Santa Fé, is camping in the
+big timbers down-stream now. Jondo and Esmond Clarenden will leave you
+boys and girls here till it's safe to take you out again. And I and
+Daniel Boone, vestal god and goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep
+you from harm till that time. Bill's joining the army for sure now, and
+our happy family life is ended as far as the Santa Fé Trail is
+concerned. I'm a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell
+me."
+
+"Tell me about this." I pointed to my shoulder.
+
+"All in good time. It was a nasty mess of fish. A dozen Mexicans and as
+many Indians had followed us all the way from the sunny side of the
+Gloriettas. You and Bev and Mat had got by the Mexics. Daniel Boone and
+'Little Lees' were climbing the North Pole by that time. The rest of us
+were giving battle straight from the shoulder; and someway, I don't know
+how, just as we had the gang beat back behind us--you had a sniff of a
+bullet just then--an Indian slipped ahead in the dust. I was tendin' to
+mite of an arrow wound in my right calf, and I just caught him in time,
+aimin' at Bev; but he missed him for you. I got him, though, and clubbed
+his scalp a bit loose."
+
+Rex paused and stared at his right leg.
+
+"How did that boy get here, Rex? Is he a friendly Indian?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Jondo brought him in out of the wet. Says the child was made to
+come along, and as soon as he could get away from the gang he had to run
+with up here; he came right into camp to help us against them. Fine
+young fellow! Jondo has it from them in authority that we can trust him
+lyin' or tellin' the truth. _He's all right._"
+
+"How did he get hurt?" I inquired, still remembering in my own mind the
+day at Agua Fria.
+
+"He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it happened,"
+Rex replied.
+
+"Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up with
+the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily.
+
+"At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?"
+
+"I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that way. He's
+got faith in that redskin and he's going to see that he gets back to New
+Mexico safely--after while."
+
+"Rex, that's the same boy that was down in Agua Fria, the one Bev
+laughed at. He's no good Indian," I declared.
+
+"You are too wise, Gail Clarenden," Rex drawled, carelessly. "A boy of
+your brains had ought to be born in Boston. Jondo and I can't agree
+about him. His name, he says, is Santan. There's one 'n' too many. If
+you knock off the last one it makes him Santa--'holy'; but if you knock
+out the middle it's Satan. We don't knock out the same 'n', Jondo and
+me."
+
+Just then the little child came tumbling noisily into the room.
+
+"Look here, youngun. You can't be makin' a racket here," Rex said.
+
+The boy stared at him, impudently.
+
+"I will, too," he declared, sullenly, kicking at my cot with all his
+might.
+
+Rex made no reply but, seizing the child around the waist, he carried
+him kicking and screaming outside.
+
+"You stay out or I'll spank you!" Rex said, dropping him to the ground.
+
+The boy looked up with blazing eyes, but said nothing.
+
+"That's little Charlie Bent. His daddy runs this splendid fort. His
+mother is a Cheyenne squaw, and he's a grim clinger of a half-breed.
+Some day he'll be a terror on these plains. It's in him, I know. But
+that won't interfere with us any. And you children are a lot safer here
+than out on the trail. Great God! I wonder we ever got you here!" Rex's
+face was very grave. "Now go to sleep and wake up well. No more thinkin'
+like a man. You can be a child again for a while."
+
+Those were happy days that followed. Safe behind the strong walls of old
+Fort Bent, we children had not a care; and with the stress and strain of
+the trail life lifted from our young minds, we rebounded into happy
+childhood living. Every day offered a new drama to our wonder-loving
+eyes. We watched the big hide-press for making buffalo robes and furs
+into snug bales. We climbed to the cupola of the headquarters department
+and saw the soldiers marching by on their way to New Mexico. We saw the
+Ute and the Red River Comanche come filing in on their summer
+expeditions from the mountains. We saw the trade lines from the far
+north bearing down to this wilderness crossroads with their early fall
+stock for barter.
+
+Our playground was the court off which all the rooms opened. And however
+wild and boisterous the scenes inside those walls in that summer of
+1846, in four young lives no touch of evil took root. Stronger than the
+six-feet width of wall, higher than the eighteen feet of adobe brick
+guarding us round about, was the stern strength of the young Boston man
+interned in the fort to protect us from within, as the strength of that
+structure defended us from without.
+
+And yet he might have failed sometimes, had it not been for Aunty Boone.
+Nobody trifled with her.
+
+"You let them children be. An give 'em the run of this shack," she
+commanded of the lesser powers whose business was to domineer over the
+daily life there. "The man that makes trouble wide as a needle is across
+is goin' to meet me an' the Judgment Day the same minute."
+
+"When Daniel gets on her crack-o'-doom voice, the mountains goin' to
+skip like rams and the little hills like lambs, an' the Army of the West
+won't be necessary to protect the frontier," Rex declared. But he knew
+her worth to his cause, and he welcomed it.
+
+And so with her brute force and his moral strength we were unconsciously
+intrenched in a safety zone in this far-isolated place.
+
+With neither Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in our
+remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we needed. For
+with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in which a child's
+day may be harried unless the child asserts himself. We had the years of
+children but the sturdy defiance of youth. So we were happy within our
+own little group, and we paid little heed to the things that nobody else
+could forestall for us.
+
+Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child of the
+proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered into all of our
+sports with a quickness and perseverance and wilfulness that was
+thoroughly American. He took defeat of his wishes, and the equal measure
+of justice and punishment, with the silent doggedness of an Indian; and
+on the edge of babyhood he showed a spirit of revenge and malice that
+we, in our rollicking, affectionate lives, with all our teasing and
+sense of humor, could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and
+ignored his imperious demands.
+
+Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending him in
+everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if we would
+submit to the making, which we seldom did.
+
+And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican masters
+for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's shrewdness, never to
+let us out of his sight. But he gave us no opportunity to approach him.
+He lived in his own world, which was a savage one, but he managed that
+it should overlap our world and silently grasp all that was in it.
+Beverly had persistently tried to be friendly for a time, for that was
+Beverly's way. Failing to do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for
+all time.
+
+"We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly told the
+Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good Indians like her.
+She's one clipper."
+
+Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and made no
+reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly from that
+moment.
+
+The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in a
+corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season and the
+night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the open space,
+edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver. There was much noise
+and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room where the heads of affairs
+played together. Rex Krane had gone to bed early. Out by the rear gate
+leading to the fort corral, Aunty Boone was crooning a weird African
+melody. Crouching in the deep shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the
+Indian boy, Santan, listened to all that was said.
+
+To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength of the
+military guard who should keep us safe along the way. Then, as children
+will, we began to speculate on what should follow for us.
+
+"When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill and me.
+We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the trail. I'm going
+back to Santa Fé and kill that boy that stared at me like he was crazy
+one day at Agua Fria."
+
+In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to us as
+Beverly ran on flippantly:
+
+"I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the Bents
+do, and live happily ever after."
+
+"I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time," Mat
+Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what this long
+journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.
+
+"I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said, meditatively. "He
+won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook back the curly tresses,
+gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and squeezed my hand as she sat beside
+me.
+
+"What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.
+
+"I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from home," I
+declared.
+
+"Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos cuss's nose
+if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as Aunty Boone would say,"
+Beverly broke in.
+
+I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I would
+have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we talked together
+as boys do, in the confidences they never give to anybody else.
+
+A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept down
+inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises inside the
+billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors except ours were
+closed. Santan had crept between us and the two open doorways leading to
+our rooms. What if he should slip inside. A snake would have seemed
+better to me.
+
+A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I held it
+tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not speak nor move.
+Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and everything had grown weird
+and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of some wild thing of the night
+plains outside crept to our ears, making us shiver.
+
+"When the stars go to sleep an' the moon pulls up the gray covers, it's
+time to shut your eyes an' forget." Aunty Boone's soft voice broke the
+spell comfortingly for us. "Any crawlin' thing that gits in my way now,
+goin' to be stepped on."
+
+At the low hissing sound of the last sentence there was a swift
+scrambling along the shadows of the porch, and a door near the kitchen
+snapped shut. The big shining face of the African woman glistened above
+us and the court was flooded again with the moon's silvery radiance. As
+we all sprang up to rush for our rooms, "Little Lees" pulled me toward
+her and gently kissed my cheek.
+
+"You never would let Marcos in if he came to Fort Leavenworth, would
+you?" she whispered.
+
+"I'd break his head clear off first," I whispered back, and then we
+scampered away.
+
+That night I dreamed again of the level plains and Uncle Esmond and
+misty mountain peaks, but the dark eyes were not there, though I watched
+long for them.
+
+The next day we left Fort Bent, and when I passed that way again it was
+a great mass of yellow mounds, with a piece of broken wall standing
+desolately here and there, a wreck of the past in a solitary land.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+
+
+  Love took me softly by the hand,
+    Love led me all the country o'er,
+  And showed me beauty in the land,
+    That I had never seen before.
+                       --ANONYMOUS.
+
+
+You might not be able to find the house to-day, nor the high bluff
+whereon it stood. So many changes have been wrought in half a century
+that what was green headland and wooded valley in the far '50's may be
+but a deep cut or a big fill for a new roadway or factory site to-day.
+So diligently has Kansas City fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+"every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be
+made low."
+
+Where the great stream bends to the east, the rugged heights about its
+elbow, Aunty Boone, in those days, was wont to declare, did not offer
+enough level ground to set a hen on. Small reason was there then to hope
+that a city, great and gracious, would one day cover those rough ravines
+and grace those slopes and hilltops in the angle between the Missouri
+and the Kaw.
+
+Aunty Boone had resented leaving Fort Leavenworth when the Clarenden
+business made the young city at the Kaw's mouth more desirable for a
+home. But Esmond Clarenden foresaw that a military post, when the
+protection it offers is no longer needed, will not, in itself, be a
+city-builder. The war had brought New Mexico into United States
+territory; railroads were slowly creeping westward toward the
+Mississippi River; steamboats and big covered wagons were bringing
+settlers into Kansas, where little cabins were beginning to mark the
+landscape with new hearth-stones. Congress was wrangling over the great
+slavery question. The Eastern lawmakers were stupidly opposing the
+efforts of Missouri statesmen to extend mail routes westward, or to
+spend any energy toward developing that so-called worthless region which
+they named "the great American desert." And the old Santa Fé Trail was
+now more than ever the highway for the commerical treasures of the
+Rocky Mountains and the great Southwest.
+
+It was the time of budding things. In the valley of the Missouri the
+black elm boughs, the silvery sycamores and cottonwoods, and the vines
+on the gray rock-faced cliffs were veiled in shimmering draperies of
+green, with here and there a little group of orchard trees faintly pink
+against the landscape's dainty verdure.
+
+Beverly Clarenden and I stood on the deck of a river steamer as it made
+the wharf at old Westport Landing, where Esmond Clarenden waited for us.
+And long before the steamer's final bump against the pier we had noted
+the tall, slender girl standing beside him. We had been away three
+years, the only schooling outside of Uncle Esmond's teaching we were
+ever to have. We were big boys now, greatly conscious of hands and feet
+in our way, "razor broke," Aunty Boone declared, brimful of hilarity and
+love of adventure, and eager for the plains life, and the dangers of the
+old trail by which we were to conquer or be conquered. In the society of
+women we were timid and ill at ease. Aside from this we were
+self-conceited, for we knew more of the world and felt ourselves more
+important on that spring morning than we ever presumed to know or dared
+to feel in all the years that followed.
+
+"Who is she, Gail, that tall one by little fat Uncle Esmond?" Beverly
+questioned, as we neared the wharf.
+
+"You don't reckon he's married, Bev? He's all of twenty-four or five
+years older than we are, and we aren't calves any more." I replied,
+scanning the group on the wharf.
+
+But we forgot the girl in our eagerness to bound down the gang-plank and
+hug the man who meant all that home and love could mean to us. In our
+three growing years we had almost eliminated Mat Nivers, save as a happy
+memory, for mails were slow in those days and we were poor
+letter-writers; and we had wondered how to meet her properly now. But
+when the tall, slender girl on the wharf came forward and we looked into
+the wide gray eyes of our old-time playmate whom, as little boys, we
+had both vowed to marry, we forgot everything in our overwhelming love
+for our comrade-in-arms, our jolliest friend and counselor.
+
+"Oh, Mat, you miserable thing!" Beverly bubbled, hugging her in his
+arms.
+
+"You are just bigger and sweeter than ever. I mistook you for Aunty
+Boone at first," I chimed in, kissing her on each cheek. And we all
+bundled away in an old-fashioned, low-swung carriage, happy as children
+again, with no barrier between us and the dear playmate of the past.
+
+The new home, on the high crest overlooking the Missouri valley, nestled
+deep in the shade of maple and elm trees, a mansion, compared to that
+log house of blessed memory at Fort Leavenworth. A winding road led up
+the steep slope from a wooded ravine where a trail ran out from the
+little city by the river's edge. Vistas of sheer cliff and stretches of
+the muddy on-sweeping Missouri and the full-bosomed Kaw, with scrubby
+timbered ravines and growing groves of forest trees, offered themselves
+at every turn. And from the top of the bluff the world unrolled in a
+panorama of nature's own shaping and coloring.
+
+The house was built of stone, with vines climbing about its thick walls,
+and broad veranda. And everywhere Mat's hands had put homey touches of
+comfort and beauty. An hundredfold did she return to Esmond Clarenden
+all the care and protection he had given to her in her orphaned
+childhood. And, after all, it was not military outposts, nor railroads,
+nor mail-lines alone that pushed back the wilderness frontier. It was
+the hand of woman that also builded empire westward.
+
+"Mat's got her wish at last," I said, as we sat with Uncle Esmond after
+dinner under a big maple tree and looked out at the far yellow Missouri,
+churning its spring floods to foam against the snags along its
+high-water bound.
+
+"What's Mat's wish?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"To have a good home and _stay there_. She wished that one night, years
+ago back in old Fort Bent. Don't you remember, Bev, when we were out in
+the court, and how scared blue we all were when the moon went under a
+cloud, and that Indian boy, Santan, was creeping between us and the home
+base?"
+
+"No, I don't remember anything except that we were in Fort Bent. Got in
+by the width of a hair ahead of some Mexicans and Indians, and got out
+again after a jolly six weeks. What's the real job for us now, Uncle
+Esmond?"
+
+Uncle Esmond was staring out toward the Kaw valley, rimmed by high
+bluffs in the distance.
+
+"I don't know about Mat having her wish," he said, thoughtfully, "but
+never mind. Trade is booming and I'm needing help on the trail this
+spring. Jondo starts west in two weeks."
+
+Beverly and I sprang up. Six feet of height, muscular, adventure-loving,
+fearless, we had been made to order for the Santa Fé Trail. And if I was
+still a dreamer and caught sometimes the finer side of ideals, where
+Beverly Clarenden saw only the matter-of-fact, visible things, no
+shrewder, braver, truer plainsman ever walked the long distances of the
+old Santa Fé Trail than this boy with his bright face and happy-go-lucky
+spirit unpained by dreams, untrammeled by fancies.
+
+"Two weeks! We are ready to start right after supper," we declared.
+
+"Oh, I have other matters first," Uncle Esmond said. "Beverly, you must
+go up to Fort Leavenworth and arrange a lot of things with Banney for
+this trip. He's to go, too, because military escort is short this
+season."
+
+"Suits me!" Beverly declared. "Old Bill Banney and I always could get
+along together. And this infant here?"
+
+"I'm going to send Gail down to the Catholic Mission, in Kansas. You
+remember little Eloise St. Vrain, of course?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"We do!" Beverly assured him. "Pretty as a doll, gritty as a sand-bar,
+snappy as a lobster's claw--she dwells within my memory yet."
+
+All girls were little children to us, for the scheme of things had not
+included them in our affairs.
+
+I threw a handful of grass in the boy's face, and Uncle Esmond went on.
+
+"She's been at St. Ann's School at the Osage Mission down on the Neosho
+River for two or three years, and now she is going to St. Louis. In
+these troublesome times on the border, if I have a personal interest, I
+feel safer if some big six-footer whom I can trust comes along as an
+escort from the Neosho to the Missouri," Uncle Esmond explained.
+
+And then we spoke of other things: the stream of emigration flowing into
+the country, the possibilities of the prairies, the future of the city
+that should hold the key to the whole Southwest, and especially of the
+chance and value of the trail trade.
+
+"It's the big artery that carries the nation's life-blood here," Esmond
+Clarenden declared. "Some day when the West is full of people, and
+dowered with prosperity, it may remember the men who built the highway
+for the feet of trade to run in. And the West may yet measure its
+greatness somewhat by the honesty and faithfulness of the merchant of
+the frontier, and more by the courage and persistence of the boys who
+drove the ox-teams across the plains. Don't forget that you yourselves
+are State-builders now."
+
+He spoke earnestly, but his words meant little to me. I was looking out
+toward the wide-sweeping Kaw and thinking of the journey I must make,
+and wondering if I should ever feel at ease in the society of women.
+Wondering, too, what I should say, and how I should really take care of
+"Little Lees," who had crossed the plains with us almost a decade ago;
+the girl who had held my hand tightly one night at old Fort Bent when
+the shadow had slipped across the moon and filled the silvery court with
+a gray, ghostly light.
+
+That night the old heart-hunger of childhood came back to me, the
+visions of the day-dreaming little boy that were almost forgotten in the
+years that had brought me to young manhood. And clearly again, as when I
+heard Uncle Esmond's voice that night on the tableland above the valley
+of the Santa Fé, I heard his gentle words:
+
+"Sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must fight for, and
+even die for, that those who come after us may be the better for our
+having them."
+
+But these thoughts passed with the night, and in my youth and
+inexperience I took on a spirit of fatherly importance as I went down to
+St. Ann's to safeguard a little girl on her way through the Kansas
+territory to the Missouri River.
+
+It had been a beautiful day, and there was a freshness in the soft
+evening breeze, and an up-springing sweetness from the prairies. A
+shower had passed that way an hour before, and the spirit of growing
+things seemed to fill the air with a voiceless music.
+
+Just at sunset the stage from the north put me down in front of St.
+Ann's Academy in the little Osage Mission village on the Neosho.
+
+A tall nun, with commanding figure and dignified bearing, left the
+church steps across the road and came slowly toward me.
+
+"I am looking for Mother Bridget, the head of this school," I said,
+lifting my hat.
+
+"I am Mother Bridget." The voice was low and firm. One could not imagine
+disobedience under her rule.
+
+"I come from Mr. Esmond Clarenden, to act as escort for a little girl,
+Eloise St. Vrain, who is to leave here on the stage for Kansas City
+to-morrow," I hesitatingly offered my letter of introduction, which
+told all that I had tried to say, and more.
+
+The woman's calm face was gentle, with the protective gentleness of the
+stone that will not fail you when you lean on it. One felt sure of
+Mother Bridget, as one feels sure of the solid rock to build upon. She
+looked at me with keen, half-quizzical eyes. Then she said, quietly:
+
+"You will find the little girl down by Flat Rock Creek. The Indian girl,
+Po-a-be, is with her. There may be several Indian girls down there, but
+Po-a-be is alone with little Eloise."
+
+I bowed and turned away, conscious that, with this good nun's sincerity,
+she was smiling at me back of her eyes somehow.
+
+As I followed the way leading to the creek I passed a group or two of
+Indian girls--St. Ann's, under the Loretto Sisterhood, was fundamentally
+a mission school for these--and a trio of young ladies, pretty and
+coquettish, with daring, mischievous eyes, whose glances made me flush
+hot to the back of my neck as I stumbled by them on my way to the
+stream.
+
+The last sun rays were glistening on the placid waters of the Flat Rock,
+and all the world was softly green, touched with a golden glamour. I
+paused by a group of bushes to let the spell of the hour have its way
+with me. I have always loved the beautiful things of earth; as much now
+as in my childhood days, when I felt ashamed to let my love be known; as
+now I dare to tell it only on paper, and not to that dear, great circle
+of men and women who know me best to-day.
+
+The sound of footsteps and the murmur of soft voices fitted into the
+sweetness of that evening hour as two girls, one of them an Indian, came
+slowly down a well-worn path from the fields above the Flat Rock Valley.
+They did not see me as they sat down on some broad stones beside the
+stream.
+
+I started forward to make myself known, but caught myself mid-step, for
+here was a picture to make any man pause.
+
+The Indian girl facing me was Little Blue Flower, the Kiowas' captive,
+whom we had rescued at Pawnee Rock. Her heavy black hair was coiled low
+on her neck, a headband of fine silverwork with pink coral pendants was
+bound about her forehead and gleaming against her jetty hair. With her
+well-poised head, her pure Indian features, her lustrous dark eyes, her
+smooth brown skin, her cheeks like the heart of those black-red roses
+that grow only in richest soil--surely there was no finer type of that
+vanishing race in all the Indian pueblos of the Southwest. But the girl
+beside her! Was it really so many years ago that I stood by the bushes
+on the Flat Rock's edge and saw that which I see so clearly now? Then
+these years have been gracious indeed to me. The sun's level beams fell
+on the masses of golden waves that swept in soft little ripples back
+from the white brow to a coil of gold on the white neck, held, like the
+Indian girl's, with a headband of wrought silver, and goldveined
+turquoise; it fell on the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the
+cheek, the red lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their
+fringe of long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the
+curves of the white throat and the round white arms. Only a master's
+hand could make you see these two, beautiful in their sharp contrast of
+deep brown and scarlet against the dainty white and gold.
+
+"Oh, Little Blue Flower, it will not make me change."
+
+I caught the words as I stepped toward the two, and the Indian's soft,
+mournful answer:
+
+"But you are Miss St. Vrain now. You go away in the morning--and I love
+you always."
+
+The heart in me stopped just when all its flood had reached my face.
+
+"Miss St. Vrain," I repeated, aloud.
+
+The two sprang up. That afternoon they had been dressed for a girls'
+frolic in some Grecian fashion. I cannot tell a Watteau pleat from
+window-curtain. I am only a man, and I do not name draperies well. But
+these two standing before me were gowned exactly alike, and yet I know
+that one was purely and artistically Greek, and one was purely and
+gracefully Indian.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am Mr. Clarenden," I managed to say.
+
+At the name Little Blue Flower's eyes looked as they did on that hot May
+night out at Pawnee Rock when she heard Beverly Clarenden's boyish voice
+ring out, defiantly:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+But the great light that had leaped into the girl's eyes died slowly out
+as she gazed at me.
+
+"You are not Beverly Clarenden," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"No, I'm Gail, the little one. Bev is up at Fort Leavenworth now," I
+replied.
+
+She turned away without a word and, gathering her draperies about her,
+sped up the pathway toward the fields above the creek.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And we two were alone together--the dark-eyed girl of my boyhood vision,
+deep-shrined in the boy-heart's holy of holies, and I who had waited for
+her coming. It was the hour of golden sunset and long twilight afterglow
+on the glistening Flat Rock waters and the green prairies beyond the
+Neosho.
+
+A sudden awakening came over me, and in one swift instant I understood
+my boyhood dreams and hopes and visions.
+
+"You will pardon me for coming so abruptly, Miss St. Vrain," I said.
+"Mother Bridget told me I would find you here."
+
+The girl listened to my stumbling words with eyes full of laughter.
+
+"Don't call me Miss St. Vrain, please. Let me be Eloise, and I can call
+you Gail. Even with your height and your broad shoulders you haven't
+changed much. And in all these years I was always thinking of you
+growing up just as you are. Let's sit down and get acquainted again."
+
+She offered me her hand and we sat down together. I could not speak
+then, for one sentence was ringing in my ears--"I was always thinking of
+you." In those years when Beverly and I had put away all thoughts of
+sweethearts--they could not be a part of the plainsman's life before
+us--sweethearts such as older boys in school boasted about, "she was
+always thinking of me." The thought brought a keen hurt as if I had done
+her some great wrong, and it held me back from words.
+
+She could not interpret my silence, and a look of timidity crept over
+her young face.
+
+"I didn't mean to be so--so bold with a stranger," she began.
+
+"You aren't bold, and we aren't strangers. I was just too stupid to
+think anybody else could get out of childhood except old Bev Clarenden
+and myself," I managed to say at last. "I even forgot Mat Nivers, who is
+a young lady now, and Aunty Boone, who hasn't changed a kink of her
+woolly hair. But we couldn't be strangers. Not after that trip across
+the plains and living at old Fort Bent as we did."
+
+I paused, and the memory of that last night at the fort made me steal a
+glance at Eloise to see if she, too, remembered.
+
+She was fair to see just then, with the pink clouds mirrored on the
+placid waters reflected in the pink of her cheeks.
+
+"Do you remember what I called you the first time I saw you?" She
+looked up with shining eyes.
+
+"You called me a big brown bob-cat, and you said I looked like I'd slept
+in the Hondo 'royo all my life. I know I looked it, too. I'll forgive
+you if you will excuse my blunder to-day. What became of that boy,
+Marcos? Have you ever seen him since you left Santa Fé?" I asked.
+
+The fair face clouded, and a look of longing crept into the big, dark
+eyes lifted pleadingly a moment to mine. I wanted to take her in my arms
+right then and look about for something to kill for her sake. Yet I
+would not, for the gold of all the Mexicos, have touched the hem of her
+Grecian robe.
+
+"Yes, I have seen Marcos many times. His father went to old Mexico after
+the war, but the Rameros do not stay long anywhere. Marcos made life
+miserable for me sometimes." She paused suddenly.
+
+"The Rameros. Then he was the son of the man who was my uncle's enemy.
+Maybe you did as much for him, too, sometimes. You had the spirit to do
+it, anyhow," I said, lightly, to hide my real feeling.
+
+"I was a little cat. I'm a lot better now. Let's not go too much into
+that time. Tell me where you have been and where you are going." Eloise
+changed the subject easily.
+
+"I've been in Cincinnati, attending a boys' school for three years. I
+start for Santa Fé in two weeks. My uncle's store is doing a big over
+land business, and he keeps the ox-teams just fanning one another,
+coming and going across the prairies. I'm crazy to go and see the open
+plains again. Cincinnati is a city on stilts, and our little
+Independence-Westport Landing-Kansas City place, as the Cincinnati of
+the great American desert, is also pretty bumpy, the last place on earth
+to put a town--only we can see almost to Santa Fé, New Mexico, from the
+hilltops. Won't it be great to view that mud-walled town again? Bev is
+going, too--to kill a few Indians for our winter's meat, he says, in his
+wicked, blood-thirsty way." So I ran on, glad to be alive in the
+delicious beauty of that spring evening as we together went back over
+the days of our young years.
+
+"Gail, may we take another passenger to-morrow?" Eloise asked, suddenly.
+
+"Why, as many as the stage will hold! There's to be a nun and a priest
+and yourself. I'm chaperon. I could take the priest on my lap if he
+isn't too bulky," I answered.
+
+"I want to take Po-a-be. I can't tell you why now."
+
+The lashes dropped over the brown eyes, and I wondered how she could
+think that I could refuse her anything.
+
+"Oh, we'll take her on faith and the stage-coach. She can come right to
+Castle Clarenden and stay till she gets ready to hurdle off to her own
+'wickie up'. She has grown into a beautiful Indian woman, though I
+couldn't call her a squaw."
+
+"She isn't a squaw. I'm glad to hear you say that. I think it will make
+her very happy to stay at your home for a while. She will miss me a
+little when we leave here, maybe," Eloise said, looking at me with a
+grateful smile that sent a tingle to my fingertips.
+
+"Won't you stay, too?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this beautiful
+girl might slip away as easily as she had come into my life here.
+
+Eloise laughed at my earnestness.
+
+"I couldn't stay long," she said, lightly.
+
+"And why not?" I burst in, eagerly. "What have you in Santa Fé?"
+
+"A little money and a lot of memories," she replied, seriously.
+
+"Oh, I can bring the money up to Kansas for you in an ox-train easily
+enough, and you could blow up the old mud-box of a town and not hurt a
+hair on the head of a single memory. You know you can take them anywhere
+you go. I do mine."
+
+"I'm going to St. Louis, anyhow," Eloise returned, "and you have no
+sacred memories--boys don't care for things like girls do."
+
+"They don't? They don't? And I have forgotten the little girl who was
+afraid one moonlit night out in the court at Fort Bent and asked me that
+I shouldn't ever let Marcos pull her hair. Yes, boys forget."
+
+I laid my hand on her arm and bent forward to look into her face. For
+just one flash those big dark eyes looked straight at me, with something
+in their depths that I shall never forget.
+
+Then she moved lightly from me.
+
+"Oh, all children remember, I suppose. I do, anyhow--a thousand things
+I'd like to forget. It is lovely by the river. Suppose we go down there
+for a little while. I must not stay out here too long."
+
+I took her arm and we strolled down the quiet path in the twilight
+sweetness to where the broad Neosho, brim full from the spring rains,
+swept on between picturesque banks. The afterglow of sunset was flaming
+gorgeously above the western prairies, and the mists along the Neosho
+were lavender and mother-of-pearl. And before all this had deepened to
+purple darkness the full moon would swing up the sky, swathing the earth
+with a softened radiance. All the beauty of this warm spring night
+seemed but a setting for this girl in her graceful Greek draperies, with
+the waving gold of her hair and her dainty pink-and-white coloring.
+
+A new heaven and a new earth had begun for me, and a delicious longing,
+clean and sweet, that swept every commoner feeling far away. What matter
+that the life before me be filled with danger, and all the coarse and
+cruel things of the hard days of the Santa Fé Trail? In that hour I knew
+the best of life that a young man can know. Its benediction after all
+these years of change is on me still. Awhile we watched the flashing
+ripples on the river, and the sky's darkening afterglow. Then we turned
+to the moonlit east.
+
+"Do you know what the people of Hopi-land call this month?" Eloise
+asked.
+
+"I don't know Hopi words for what is beautiful," I replied.
+
+"They call it 'the Moon of the Peach Blossom', and they cherish the time
+in their calendar."
+
+"Then we will be Hopi people," I declared, "for it was in their Moon of
+the Peach Blossom that you grew up for me from the little girl who
+called me a bob-cat down in the doorway of the old San Miguel Church in
+Santa Fé, and from Aunty Boone's 'Little Lees' at old Fort Bent, to the
+Eloise of St. Ann's by the Kansas Neosho."
+
+The sound of a sweet-toned bell told us that we must not stay longer,
+and together we followed the path from the Flat Rock up to the academy
+door. And all the way was like the ways of Paradise to me, for I was in
+the peach-blossom moon of my own life.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE HANDS THAT CLING
+
+
+    The hands that take
+  No weight from your sad cross, oh, lighter far
+  It were but for the burden that they bring!
+  God only knows what hind'ring things they are--
+    The hands that cling.
+                      --ESTHER M. CLARK
+
+
+The next morning three of us waited in the stage before the door of St.
+Ann's Academy. A thin-faced nun, who was called Sister Anita, sat beside
+Eloise St. Vrain, her snowy head-dress, with her black veil and somber
+garments, contrasting sharply with the silver-gray hat and traveling
+costume of her companion. Hints of pink-satin linings to coat-collar and
+pocket-flaps, and the pink facing of the broad hat-brim, seemed borrowed
+from the silver and pink of misty morning skies, with the golden hair
+catching the glint of all the early sunbeams. There was a tenderness in
+the bright face, the sadness which parting puts temporarily into young
+countenances. The girl looked lovingly at the church, and St. Ann's, and
+the green fields reaching up to the edge of the mission premises.
+
+As we waited, Mother Bridget and Little Blue Flower came slowly out of
+the academy door. The good mother's arm was around the Indian girl, and
+her eyes filled with tears as she looked down affectionately at the dark
+face.
+
+Little Blue Flower, true to her heritage, gave no sign of grief save for
+the burning light in her big, dry eyes. She listened silently to Mother
+Bridget's parting words of advice and submitted without response to the
+embrace and gentle good-by kiss on her brown forehead.
+
+The good woman gazed into my face with penetrating eyes, as if to
+measure my trustworthiness.
+
+"You will see that no harm comes to my little Po-a-be. The wolves of the
+forest are not the only danger for the unprotected lambs," she said,
+earnestly.
+
+"I'll do my best, Mother Bridget," I responded, feeling a swelling pride
+in my double charge.
+
+Mother Bridget patted Eloise's hand and turned away. She loved all of
+her girls, but her heart went out most to the Indian maidens whom she
+led toward her civilization and her sacred creed.
+
+As she turned away, the priest who was to go with us came out of the
+church door to the stage.
+
+Little Blue Flower sat with the other two women, facing us, her
+dark-green dress with her rich coloring making as strong a contrast as
+the nun's black robe against the pink-touched silver-gray gown. And the
+Indian face, strong, impenetrable, with a faintly feminine softening of
+the racial features, and the luminous black eyes, gave setting to the
+pure Saxon type of her companion.
+
+I turned from the three to greet the priest and give him a place beside
+me. His face seemed familiar, but it was not until I heard his voice, in
+a courteous good-morning, that I knew him to be the Father Josef who had
+met us on the way into Santa Fé years before, and who later had shown us
+the little golden-haired girl asleep on the hard bench in the old
+mission church of Agua Fria. A page of my boyhood seemed suddenly to
+have opened there, and I wondered curiously at the meaning of it all.
+Life, that for three years had been something of a monotonous round of
+action for a boy of the frontier, was suddenly filling each day with
+events worth while. I wondered many things concerning Father Josef's
+presence there, but I had the grace to ask no questions as we five
+journeyed over the rolling green prairies of Kansas in the pleasant time
+of year which the Hopi calls the Moon of the Peach Blossom.
+
+The priest appeared hardly a day older than when I had first seen him,
+and he chatted genially as we rode along.
+
+"We are losing two of our stars," he said, with a gallant little bow.
+"Miss St. Vrain goes to St. Louis to relatives, I believe, and Little
+Blue Flower, eventually, to New Mexico. St. Ann's under Mother Bridget
+is doing a wonderful work among our people, but it is not often that a
+girl comes here from such a distance as New Mexico."
+
+I tried to fancy what the Indian girl's thoughts might be as the priest
+said this, but her face, as usual, gave no clue to her mind's activity.
+
+Where the Santa Fé Trail crossed the Wakarusa Father Josef left us to
+join a wagon-train going west. Sister Anita, who was hurrying back to
+Kentucky, she said, on some churchly errand, took a steamer at Westport
+Landing, and the three of us came to the Clarenden home on the crest of
+the bluff.
+
+We had washed off our travel stains and come out on the veranda when we
+saw Beverly Clarenden standing in the sunlight, waiting for us. I had
+never seen him look so handsome as he did that day, dressed in the full
+regalia of the plains: a fringed and beaded buckskin coat, dark
+pantaloons held inside of high-topped boots, a flannel shirt, with a
+broad black silk tie fastened in a big bow at his throat, and his
+wide-brimmed felt hat set back from his forehead. Clean-shaven, his
+bright brown hair--a trifle long, after the custom of the
+frontier--flung back from his brow, his blooming face wearing the happy
+smile of youth, his tall form easily erect, he seemed the very
+embodiment of that defiant power that swept the old Santa Fé Trail clean
+for the feet of its commerce to run swiftly along. I am glad that I
+never envied him--brother of my heart, who loved me so.
+
+He was not as surprised as I had been to find the grown-up girl instead
+of the little child. That wasn't Beverly's way.
+
+"I'm mighty glad to meet you again," he said, with jaunty air, grasping
+Eloise by the hand. "You look just as--shall I say promising, as ever."
+
+"I'm glad to see you, Beverly. You and Gail have been my biggest assets
+of memory these many years." Eloise was at ease with him in a moment.
+Somehow they never misunderstood each other.
+
+"Oh, I'm always an asset, but Gail here gets to be a liability if you
+let him stay around too long."
+
+"Here is somebody else. Don't you remember Little Blue Flower?" Eloise
+interrupted him.
+
+"Little Blue Flower! Why, I should say I do! And are you that little
+blossom?"
+
+Beverly's face beamed, and he caught the Indian girl's hand in both of
+his in a brotherly grasp. He wasn't to blame that nature had made him
+frank and unimaginative.
+
+"I haven't forgotten the last time I saw your face in a wide crack
+between two adobe shacks. A 'flower in the crannied wall' in that 'pure
+water' sand-pile in New Mexico. I'd have plucked you out of the cranny
+right then, if old Rex Krane hadn't given us our 'forward march!'
+orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high and sneaky as a cat, hadn't
+been lurking in the middle distance to pluck _me_ as a brand _for_ the
+burning. And now you are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How
+did you ever get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"
+
+Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but at the
+mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright face became
+expressionless.
+
+Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth the
+way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a visit.
+
+"We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on, gaily.
+"Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse packing
+merchandise for the Santa Fé trade. Even big black Aunty Boone, getting
+supper in there, is still a feature of this circus. If only that slim
+Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to
+be here soon, and if all goes well he will go with us to Santa Fé again.
+How about it, Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"
+
+But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below us. Her
+wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were pink with
+excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane striding up the hill,
+with the easy swing of vigorous health. No longer the slender, slouching
+young idol of my boyhood days, with Eastern cut of garment and
+devil-may-care dejection of manner, all hiding a loving tenderness for
+the unprotected, and a daring spirit that scorned danger.
+
+"It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
+tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace pipe."
+
+Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands he
+reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And he held
+them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful eyes.
+
+A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the trail
+in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always looked at Mat when
+he talked to all of us. And I used to think that he must have had a
+little sister like her. Now I knew in an instant why Mat could not meet
+his eyes to-day with that unconcern with which she met them when she was
+a child to me, and he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown
+up. I knew more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by
+the shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
+alive to every tint and odor and musical note for every other wayfarer
+therein.
+
+That was a glorious week that followed, and one to remember on the long
+trail days coming to us. I have no quarrel with the happy youth of
+to-day, but I feel no sense of loss nor spirit of envy when they tell
+me--all young people are my friends--when they tell me of golf-links and
+automobile rides, or even the daring hint of airplanes. To the heart of
+youth the gasolene-motor or the thrill of the air-craft to-day is no
+more than the Indian pony and the uncertain chance of the crude old
+canoe on the clear waters of the Big Blue when Kansas City was a village
+and the Kansas prairies were in their virgin glory.
+
+Bill Banney had come out of the Mexican War, no longer an adventure
+lover, but a seasoned frontiersman. His life knew few of the gentler
+touches. He gave it to the plains, where so many lives went, unhonored
+and unsung, into the building of an enduring empire.
+
+We would have included him in all the frolic of that wonderful week in
+the Moon of the Peach Blossom--but he gave us no opportunity to do so.
+And we were young, and the society of girls was a revelation to us. So
+with the carelessness of youth we forgot him. We forgot many things that
+week that, in Heaven's name, we had cause enough to remember in the
+years that followed after.
+
+"There's a theatrical troupe come up from St. Louis to play here
+to-night," Rex Krane announced, after supper. "Mat, will you let me take
+you down to see the villain get what's due all villains? Then if we have
+to kill off Gail and Bev, it will not be so awkward."
+
+"Can't we all go?" Mat suggested.
+
+"Never mind us, Lady Nivers. Little Blue Flower, may I have the pleasure
+of your company? I need protection to-night," Beverly said, with much
+ceremony.
+
+Little Blue Flower was sitting next to him, or it might not have begun
+that way.
+
+"Oh, say yes. He's no poorer company than that company of actors down
+town," Rex urged.
+
+The Indian girl assented with a smile.
+
+She did not smile often and when she did her eyes were full of light,
+and her red lips and perfect white teeth were beautiful enough for a
+queen to envy.
+
+"Little Lees, it seems you are doomed to depend on Gail or jump in the
+Kaw. I'd prefer the Kaw myself, but life is full of troubles. One more
+can be endured." Rex had turned to Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"Seems to me, having first choice, you might have been more considerate
+of my lot yourself," Eloise declared.
+
+"He was. He saved you from a worse fate when he chose Mat," I broke in.
+
+"May we have a song by the choir?" Beverly interrupted, and with his
+full bass voice he began to roar our some popular tune of that time.
+
+And it went on as it began, the rambles about the rugged bluffs and
+picturesque ravines, where to-day the hard-surfaced Cliff Drive makes a
+scenic highway through the beauty spots of a populous city; the daring
+canoe rides on the rivers; the gatherings of the young folk in the town;
+and the long twilight hours on the crest of the bluff overlooking the
+two great waterways. And as by the first selection, Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower were companions. Nobody could be unhappy with Bev, least of
+all the shy Indian girl with a face full of sunshine, now. And I? I
+walked a pathway strewn with rose petals because the golden-haired
+Little Lees was beside me. Each day was a frolic day for us, teasing one
+another and making a joke of life, and for the morrow we took no thought
+at all.
+
+One evening Eloise St. Vrain and I sat together on the bluff. It was the
+twilight hour, and all the far valley of the Kaw was full of iridescent
+misty lights, with gold-tipped clouds of pale lavender above, and the
+glistening silver of the river below. We could hear Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower laughing together in a big swing among the maples. Aunty
+Boone was crooning some African melodies in the bushes half-way down the
+slope. Rex and Mat had gone to the ravine below to meet Uncle Esmond.
+
+"Little Lees, the first time I ever saw you you were away out there in
+such a misty light as that, and I saw only your hair and your eyes then,
+but as clearly as I see them now."
+
+Eloise turned questioningly toward me, and the light in her dark eyes
+thrilled to the heart of me. In all her stay with us I had hardly spoken
+earnestly of anything before.
+
+"When was that Gail?" she asked, the frivolous spirit gone from her,
+too.
+
+"When I was a little boy, one day at Fort Leavenworth. And when I caught
+sight of you at the door of old San Miguel I knew you," I replied.
+
+The girl turned her face toward the west again and was silent. I felt my
+cheeks flush hotly. I had made her think I was only a dream-sick fool,
+when I had told her of the sacredest moment of my life, and I had for
+the minute foolishly felt that she might understand. How could I know
+that it was I who could not understand?
+
+At last she looked up with a smile as full of mischief as on that day
+when she had called me a big brown bob-cat.
+
+"You must have been having a nightmare in your sleep," she declared.
+
+"I think I was," I replied, testily. "Let me tell you something, Little
+Lees, something really important."
+
+"I don't believe you know one important thing," Eloise replied, "but
+I'll listen, and then if it is I'll tell you something more important."
+
+"I'm willing to hear it now. Tell me first," I replied, wondering the
+while how nature, that gives rough-hewn bearded faces to men, could make
+a face so daintily colored, in its youthful roundness, as hers.
+
+"I'm going to start to St. Louis day after to-morrow at six o'clock in
+the morning. Isn't that important?"
+
+Was there a real earnestness under the lightly spoken words, or did I
+imagine it so? If I had only made sure then--but I was young.
+
+"Important! It's a tragedy! I start west in three days, at eight o'clock
+in the morning," I said, carelessly.
+
+Sometimes the gray shadows fall on us when neither sunlight nor
+moonlight nor starlight is dimmed by any film of vapor. They fell on me
+then, and I shivered in my soul. How could I speak otherwise than
+carelessly and not show what must not be known? And how could the girl
+beside me know that I was speaking thus to keep down the shiver of that
+cold shadow? I suppose it must always be the same old story, year after
+year--
+
+     till the leaves of the judgment book unfold.
+
+"What was that important something you were going to tell me? What Mat
+told me last night when we were watching the moon rise?" Eloise asked.
+
+"That Rex and Mat are going to be married to-morrow evening at early
+candle-lighting--'early mosquito-biting,' Bev calls it. Rex has loved
+Mat since the day when he joined our little wagon-train out of a foolish
+sort of notion that he could protect us children, otherwise his life was
+useless to him. But something in his own boyhood made him pity all
+orphan children. I think it was through neglect in childhood he became
+an invalid at nineteen. He doesn't show the marks of it now."
+
+I paused and looked at the young girl beside me, whose eyes were like
+stars in the deepening gloom of the evening. It was delicious to have
+her look at me and listen to me. It was delicious to live in a rose-hued
+twilight, and I forgot the chill of that gray shadow lurking near.
+
+The next evening was entrancing with the soft air of spring, a night
+made purposely for brides. The wedding itself was simple in its
+appointments, as such events must needs be in the frontier years. All
+day we had worked to decorate the plain stone house, which the deftness
+of Little Blue Flower and the artistic touch of Little Lees turned into
+a spring bower, with trailing vines and blossoms everywhere.
+
+Mat's wedding-gown was neither new nor elaborate, for the affair had
+been too hastily decided on, but Eloise had made it bride-like by
+draping a filmy veil over Mat's bright brown hair, and Little Blue
+Flower had brought her long strands of turquoise beads, "old and
+borrowed and blue," to fulfil the needs of every bride.
+
+In the bridal party Beverly and I walked in front, followed by the two
+girls in the white Greek robes which they had worn at the school frolic
+at St. Ann's, and wearing their headbands, the one of silver and
+turquoise, the other of silver and coral. Then came Rex Krane and Bill
+Banney. Poor Bill! Nobody guessed that night that the bridal blossoms
+were flowers on the coffin of his dead hope. And last of all, Esmond
+Clarenden and Mat Nivers, with shining eyes, leaning on his arm. I had
+never seen Uncle Esmond in evening dress before, nor dreamed how
+splendid a figure he could make for a drawing-room in the costume in
+which he was so much at ease. But the handsomest man of all the large
+company gathered there that night was Jondo, big, broad-shouldered
+Jondo, his deep-blue eyes bright with joy for these two. And in the
+background was Aunty Boone, resplendent in a new red calico besprinkled
+with her favorite white dots, her head turbaned in a yellow silk
+bandana, and about her neck a strand of huge green glass beads. Her eyes
+glistened as she watched that night's events, and her comfortable
+ejaculations of approval were like the low purr of a satisfied cat. Then
+came the solemn pledges, the benediction and congratulations. There was
+merrymaking and singing, cake and unfermented wine of grapes for
+refreshing, and much good will that night.
+
+When the guests were gone and the lights, save one kitchen candle, were
+all out, I had slipped from the dining-room with the last burden of
+dishes, when I paused a minute beside the open kitchen window to let the
+midnight breeze cool my face.
+
+On the side porch, a little affair made to shelter the doorway, I saw
+Beverly Clarenden and Little Blue Flower. He was speaking gently, but
+with his blunt frankness, as he patted the two brown hands clinging to
+his arm. The Indian girl's white draperies were picturesque anywhere. In
+this dramatic setting they were startlingly beautiful, and her face,
+outlined in the dim light, was a thing rare to see. I could not hear her
+words, but her soft Hopi voice had a tender tone.
+
+I was waiting to let them pass in when I heard Beverly's voice, and I
+saw him bend over the little maiden, and, putting one arm around her, he
+drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. I knew it was a brother's
+sympathetic act--and all men know how dangerous a thing that is; that
+there are no ties binding brother to sister except the bonds of kindred
+blood. The girl slipped inside the dining-room door, and a minute later
+a candle flickered behind her bedroom window-blind in the gable of the
+house. I waited for Beverly to go, determined never to mention what I
+had seen, when I caught the clear low voice whose tones could make my
+pulse thresh in its walls.
+
+"Beverly, Beverly, it breaks my heart--" I lost the remainder of the
+sentence, but Beverly's words were clear and direct and full of a frank
+surprise.
+
+"Eloise, do you really care?"
+
+I turned away quickly that I might not hear any more. The rest of that
+night I sat wide awake and staring at the misty valley of the Kaw, where
+silvery ripples flashed up here and there against the shadowy sand-bars.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The steamboat for St. Louis left the Westport Landing wharf at six
+o'clock in the morning, before the mists had lifted over the big yellow
+Missouri. From our bluff I saw the smoke belch from its stacks as it
+pulled away and started down-stream; but only Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+waited to wave good-by to the sweet-faced girl looking back at them from
+its deck. Beverly had overslept, and Little Blue Flower had left an hour
+earlier with a wagon-train starting west toward Council Grove. In her
+room lay the white Grecian robe and the headband of wrought silver with
+coral pendants. On the little white pin-cushion on the dressing-table
+the bright pin-heads spelled out one Hopi word that carries all good
+will and blessing,
+
+LOLOMI.
+
+Twenty-four hours later Rex Krane left his bride, and he and Bill Banney
+and Beverly and I, under command of Jondo, started on our long trip
+overland to Santa Fé. And two of us carried some memories we hoped to
+lose when new scenes and certain perils should surround us.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+"OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+
+
+  And you all know security
+  Is mortal's chiefest enemy.
+
+              SHAKESPEARE.
+
+
+In St. Louis and Kansas City men of Esmond Clarenden's type were sending
+out great caravans of goods and receiving return cargoes across the
+plains--pioneer trade-builders, uncrowned sovereigns of national
+expansion--against whose enduring power wars for conquest are as
+flashlight to daylight. And Beverly Clarenden and I, with the whole
+battalion of plainsmen--"bull-whackers," in the common parlance of the
+Santa Fé Trail--who drove those caravans to and fro, may also have been
+State-builders, as Uncle Esmond had declared we would be. Yet we hardly
+looked like makers of empire in those summer days when we followed the
+great wagon-trains along the prairies and over the mountain passes.
+
+Two of us had come home from school hilariously eager for the trail
+service. But the silent plains made men thoughtful and introspective.
+Days of endless level landscapes under wide-arching skies, and nights
+in the open beneath the everlasting silent stars, give a man time to get
+close to himself, to relive his childhood, to measure human values, to
+hear the voice in the storm-cloud and the song of low-purring winds, to
+harden against the monotonous glare of sunlight, to defy the burning
+heat, and to feel--aye, to feel the spell of crystal day-dawns and the
+sweetness of velvet-shadowed twilights. Beverly and I were typical
+plainsmen in that we never spoke of these things to each other--that is
+not the way of the plainsman.
+
+Our company had been organized at Council Grove--three trains of
+twenty-six wagons each, drawn by three or four spans of mules or yoke of
+oxen, guarded by eightscore of "bull-whackers." And there were a dozen
+or more ponies trained for swift riding in cases of emergency. There
+were also half a dozen private outfits under protection of the large
+body.
+
+The usual election before starting had made Jondo captain of the whole
+company. His was the controlling type of spirit that could have bent a
+battalion or swayed a Congress. For all the commanders and lawmakers of
+that day were not confined to the army and to Congress. Some of them
+escaped to the West and became sovereigns of service there. And Jondo
+had need for an intrepid spirit to rule that group of men, as that
+journey across the plains proved.
+
+On the day before we left Council Grove he was sitting with the heads of
+the other wagon-trains under a big oak-tree, perfecting final plans for
+the journey.
+
+"Gail, I want you to sign some papers here," he said. "It is the
+agreement for the trip among the three companies owning the trains."
+
+I read aloud the contract setting forth how one Jean Deau, representing
+Esmond Clarenden, of Kansas City, with Smith and Davis, representing two
+other companies from St. Louis, together agreed to certain conditions
+regarding the journey.
+
+Smith and Davis had already signed, and as I took the pen, a
+white-haired old trapper who was sitting near by burst out:
+
+"Jean Deau! Jean Deau! Who the devil is Jean Deau?"
+
+Jondo did not look up, but the lines hardened about his mouth.
+
+"It's a sound. Don't get in the way, old man. Go ahead, Clarenden,"
+Smith commanded.
+
+Few questions were asked in those days, for most men on the plains had a
+history, and it was what a man could do here, not what he had done
+somewhere else, that counted.
+
+So I, representing Esmond Clarenden, signed the paper and the two
+managers hurried away. But the old trapper sat staring at Jondo.
+
+"Say, I'm gittin' close to the end of the trail, and the divide ain't
+fur off for me. D'ye mind if I say somethin'?" he asked at last.
+
+Jondo looked up with that smile that could warm any man's heart.
+
+"Say on," he commanded, kindly.
+
+"You aint never signin' your own name nowhere, it sorter seems."
+
+Jondo shook his head.
+
+"Didn't you and this Clarenden outfit go through here 'bout ten years
+ago one night? Some Mexican greasers was raisin' hell and proppin' it up
+with a whisky-bottle that night, layin' fur you vicious."
+
+Jondo smiled and nodded assent.
+
+"Well, them fellers comin' in had a bargain with a passel of Kioways to
+git you plenty if they missed you themselves; to clinch their bargain
+they give 'em a pore little Hopi Injun girl they'd brung along with a
+lot of other Mexicans and squaws."
+
+"I had that figured out pretty well at the time," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"But, Jean Deau--" the old man began.
+
+"No, Jondo. Go on. I'm busy," Jondo interrupted.
+
+The old man's watery eyes gleamed.
+
+"I just want to say friendly-like, that them Kioways never forgot the
+trick you worked on 'em, an' the _tornydo_ that busted 'em at Pawnee
+Rock they laid to your bad medicine. They went clare back to Bent's Fort
+to fix you. Them and that rovin' bunch of Mexicans that scattered along
+the trail with 'em in time of the Mexican War. They'd 'a' lost you but
+fur a little Apache cuss they struck out there who showed 'em to you."
+
+Jondo looked up quickly now. Santan, Beverly's "Satan," whom our
+captain had defended, flashed to my mind, but I knew by Jondo's face
+that he did not believe the old trapper's story.
+
+"Them Kioways is still layin' fur you ever' year, I tell you, an'
+they're bound to git you sooner or later. I'm tellin' ye in kindness."
+
+The old man's voice weakened a little.
+
+"And I'm taking you in kindness," Jondo said. "You may be doing me a
+great service."
+
+"I shore am. Take my word an' keep awake. Keep awake!"
+
+In spite of his drink-bleared eyes and weakened frame, there was a hint
+of the commander in him, a mere shadow of the energy that had gone years
+ago into the wild, solitary life of the trapper who foreran the trail
+days here.
+
+"One more trip to the ha'nts of the fur-bearin' and it's good-by to the
+mountain trails and the river courses fur me," he said, as he rose and
+stalked unsteadily away, and--I never saw him again.
+
+At daybreak the next morning we were off for Santa Fé. Our wagons,
+loaded with their precious burdens, moved forward six abreast along the
+old sun-flower bordered trail. Morning, noon, and evening, pitching camp
+and breaking camp, yoking oxen and harnessing mules, keeping night vigil
+by shifts, hunting buffalo, killing rattlesnakes, watching for signs of
+hostile Indians, meeting incoming trains, or solitary trappers, at long
+intervals, breathing the sweet air of the prairies, and gathering rugged
+strength from sleep on the wholesome earth--these things, with the
+jolliest of fellowship and perfect discipline of our captain, Jondo,
+made this hard, free life of the plains a fascinating one. We were
+unshaven and brown as Indians. We lost every ounce of fat, but we were
+steel-sinewed, and fear, that wearing element that disintegrates the
+soul, dropped away from us early on the trail.
+
+But when the full moon came sweeping up the sky, and all the prairie
+shadows lay flat to earth under its surge of clear light, in the
+stillness of the great lonely land, then the battle with home-sickness
+was not the least of the plains' perils.
+
+One midnight watch of such a night, Jondo sat out my vigil with me. Our
+eighty or more wagons were drawn up in a rude ellipse with the stock
+corraled inside, for we were nearing the danger zone. And yet to-night
+danger seemed impossible in such a peaceful land under such clear
+moonlight.
+
+"Gail, you were always a far-seeing youngster, even in your cub days,"
+Jondo said, after we had sat silent for a long time. "We are moving into
+trouble from to-night, and I'll need you now."
+
+"What makes you think so, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"That train we met going east at noon."
+
+"Mexicans with silver and skins worth double our stuff, what have they
+to do with us?" I inquired.
+
+"One of the best men I have ever known is a Mexican in Santa Fé. The
+worst man I have ever known is an American there. But I've never yet
+trusted a Mexican when you bunch them together. They don't fit into
+American harness, and it will be a hundred years before the Mexican in
+our country will really love the Stars and Stripes. Deep down in his
+heart he will hate it."
+
+"I remember Felix Narveo and Ferdinand Ramero mighty well," I commented.
+
+Jondo stared at me.
+
+"Can't a boy remember things?" I inquired.
+
+"It takes a boy to remember; and they grow up and we forget they have
+had eyes, ears, feelings, memories, all keener than we can ever have in
+later years. Gail, the Mexican train comes from Felix Narveo, and Narveo
+is a man of a thousand. They bring word, however, that the Kiowas are
+unusually friendly and that we have nothing to fear this side of the
+Cimarron. They don't feel sure of the Utes and Apaches."
+
+"Good enough!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, only they lie when they say it. It's a trap to get us. No Kiowa on
+the plains will let a Clarenden train through peacefully, because we
+took their captive, Little Blue Flower. It's a hatred kept alive in the
+Kiowas by one man in Santa Fé through his Mexican agents with Narveo's
+train."
+
+"And that man is Ramero?" I questioned.
+
+"That man is Ramero, and his capacity for hate is appalling. Gail,
+there's only one thing in the world that is stronger than hate, and that
+is love."
+
+Jondo looked out over the moonlit plains, his fine head erect, even in
+his meditative moods.
+
+"When a Mexican says a Kiowa has turned friendly, don't believe him.
+And when a Kiowa says it himself--kill him. It's your only safe course,"
+Jondo said, presently.
+
+"Jondo, why does Ramero stir up the Indians and Mexicans against Uncle
+Esmond?" I asked.
+
+"Because Clarenden drove him into exile in New Mexico before it was
+United States territory," Jondo replied.
+
+"What did he do that for?" I asked.
+
+"Because of what Ramero had done to me," Jondo replied.
+
+"Well, New Mexico is United States territory now. What keeps this Ramero
+in Santa Fé, if he is there?"
+
+"I keep him there. It's safer to know just where a man like that is. So
+I put a ring around the town and left him inside of it."
+
+Jondo paused and turned toward me.
+
+"Yonder comes Banney to go on guard now. Gail, I'll tell you all about
+it some day. I couldn't on a night like this."
+
+The deep voice sent a shiver through me. There was a pathos in it, too
+manly for tears, too courageous for pity.
+
+The days that followed were hard ones. Word had gotten through the camp
+that the Indians were very friendly, and that we need not be uneasy this
+side of the Cimarron country. Smith and Davis agreed with the train
+captain, Jondo, in taking no chances, but most of the one hundred sixty
+bull-whackers stampeded like cattle against precaution, and rebelled at
+his rigid ruling. He had begun to tighten down upon us as we went
+farther and farther into the heart of a savage domain. The night guard
+was doubled and every precaution for the stock was demanded, giving
+added cause for grumbling and muttered threats which no man had the
+courage to speak openly to Jondo's face. I knew why he had said that he
+would need me. Bill Banney was always reliable, but growing more silent
+and unapproachable every day. Rex Krane's mind was on the girl-wife he
+had left in the stone house on the bluff above the Missouri. Beverly was
+too cock-sure of himself and too light-hearted, too eager for an Indian
+fight. Jondo could counsel with Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains,
+but only as a last resort would he dictate to them. So he turned to me.
+
+We were nearing Pawnee Rock, but as yet no hint of an Indian trail could
+we find anywhere. Advance-guards and rear-guards had no news to report
+when night came, and the sense of security grew hourly. The day had been
+very warm, but our nooning was shortened and we went into camp early.
+Everything had gone wrong that day: harness had broken; mules had grown
+fractious; a wagon had upset on a rough bit of the trail; half a dozen
+men, including Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains, had fallen
+suddenly ill; drinking-water had been warm and muddy; and, most of all,
+the consciousness of wide-spread opposition to Jondo's strict ruling
+where there were no signs of danger made a very ugly-spirited group of
+men who sat down together to eat our evening meal. Bets were openly
+made that we wouldn't see a hostile redskin this side of Santa Fé.
+Covert sneers pointed many comments, and grim silence threatened more
+than everything else. Jondo's face was set, but there was a calmness
+about his words and actions, and even the most rebellious that night
+knew he was least afraid of any man among us.
+
+At midnight he wakened me. "I want you to help me, Gail," he said. "The
+Kiowas will gather for us at Pawnee Rock. They missed us there once
+because they were looking for a big train, and it was there we took
+their captive girl. The boys are ready to mutiny to-night. I count on
+you to stand by me."
+
+Stand by Jondo! In my helpless babyhood, my orphaned childhood, my
+sturdy growing years toward young manhood, Jondo had been father,
+mother, brother, playmate, guardian angel. I would have walked on
+red-hot coals for his sake.
+
+"I want you to slip away to-night, when Rex and Bev are on guard, and
+find out what's over that ridge to the north. Don't come back till you
+do find out. We'll get to Pawnee Rock to-morrow. I must know to-night.
+Can you do it? If you aren't back by sunrise, I'll follow your trail
+double quick."
+
+"I'll go," I replied, proud to show both my courage and my loyalty to my
+captain.
+
+The night was gray, with a dying moon in the west, and the north ridge
+loomed like a low black shadow against the sky. There was a weird
+chanting voice in the night wind, pouring endlessly across the open
+plains. And everywhere an eyeless, voiceless, motionless land, whereon
+my pony's hoof-beats were big and booming. Nature made my eyes and ears
+for the trail life, and matched my soul to its level spaces. To-night I
+was alert with that love of mastery that made me eager for this task. So
+I rode forward until our great camp was only a dull blot on the
+horizon-line, melting into mere nothingness as it grew farther away. And
+I was alone on the earth. God had taken out every other thing in it,
+save the sky over my head and the uneven short-grass sod under my feet.
+
+On I went, veering to the northwest from instinct that I should find my
+journey's end soonest that way. Over the divide which hid the wide
+valley of the Arkansas, and into the deep draws and low bluffs of a
+creek with billowy hills beyond, I found myself still instinctively
+_smelling_ my way. I grew more cautious with each step now, knowing that
+the chance for me to slip along unseen gave also the chance for an enemy
+to trail me unseen.
+
+At last I caught that low breathing sound that goes with the sense of
+nearness to life. Leaving my pony by the stream, I climbed to the top of
+a little swell, and softly as a cat walks on a carpet, I walked straight
+into an Indian camp. It was well chosen for outlook near, and security
+from afar. There was a growing light in the sky that follows the
+darkness of moonset and runs before the break of dawn. Everything in
+the camp was dead still. I saw evidences of war-paint and a recent
+war-dance that forerun an Indian attack. I estimated the strength of the
+enemy--possibly four hundred warriors, and noted the symbols of the
+Kiowa tribe. Then, thrilled with pride at my skill and success, I turned
+to retrace my way to my pony--and looked full into the face of an Indian
+brave standing motionless in my path. A breath--and two more braves
+evolved out of gray air, and the three stood stock-still before me. Out
+of the tail of my eye, I caught sight of a drawn bow on either side of
+me. I had learned quickness with firearms years ago, but I knew that two
+swift arrows would cut my life-line before the sound of my ready
+revolver could break the stillness of the camp. Three pairs of snaky
+black eyes looked steadily at me, and I stared back as directly into
+them. Two arrow-points gently touched my ears. Behind me, a tomahawk
+softly marked a ring around my scalp outside of my hat. I was standing
+in a circle of death. At last the brave directly before me slowly drew
+up his bow and pointed it at me; then dropping it, he snapped the arrow
+shaft and threw away the pieces. Pointing to my cocked revolver, he
+motioned to me to drop it. At the same time the bows and tomahawks, of
+the other warriors were thrown down. It was a silent game, and in spite
+of the danger I smiled as I put down my firearms.
+
+"Can't any of you talk?" I asked. "If you are friendly, why don't you
+say so?"
+
+The men did not speak, but by a gesture toward the tallest tepee--the
+chief's, I supposed--I understood that he alone would talk to me.
+
+"Well, bring him out." I surprised myself at my boldness. Yet no man
+knows in just what spirit he will face a peril.
+
+One of the braves ran to the chief's tent, but the remaining five left
+me no chance for escape. It was slowly growing lighter. I thought of
+Jondo and his search at sunrise, and the moments seemed like hours. Yet
+with marvelous swiftness and stillness a score of Indians with their
+chief were mounted, and I, with my pony in the center of a solid ring,
+was being hurried away, alive, with friendly captors daubed with
+war-paint.
+
+There was a growing light in the east, while the west was still dark. I
+thought of the earth as throwing back the gray shadowy covers from its
+morning face and piling them about its feet; I thought of some joke of
+Beverly's; and I wondered about one of the oxen that had seemed sick in
+the evening. I tried to think of nothing and a thousand things came into
+my mind. But of life and death and love and suffering, I thought not at
+all.
+
+Meantime, Jondo waited anxiously for my coming. Rex and Beverly had gone
+to sleep at the end of their watch and nobody else in camp knew of my
+going. At dawn a breeze began to swing in from the north, and with its
+refreshing touch the weariness and worries of yesterday were swept away.
+Everybody wakened in a good humor. But Jondo had not slept, and his
+face was sterner than ever as the duties of the day began.
+
+Before sunrise I began to be missed.
+
+"Where's Gail?" Bill Banney was the first to ask.
+
+"That's Clarenden's job, not mine," another of the bull-whackers
+resented a command of Jondo's.
+
+"Gail! Gail! Anybody on earth seen Gail Clarenden this morning?" came
+from a far corner of the camp.
+
+"Have you lost a man, Jondo?" Smith, still sick in his wagon, inquired.
+
+And the sun was filling the eastern horizon with a roseate glow. It
+would be above the edge of the plains in a little while, and still I had
+not returned.
+
+Breakfast followed, with many questions for the absent one. There was an
+eagerness to be off early and an uneasiness began to pervade the camp.
+
+"Jondo, you'll have to dig up Gail now. I saw him putting out northwest
+about one o'clock," Rex Krane said, aside to the train captain.
+
+"If he isn't here in ten minutes. I'll have to start out after him,"
+Jondo replied.
+
+Ten minutes are long to one who waits. The boys were ready for the camp
+order. "Catch up!" to start the harnessing of teams. But it was not
+given. The sun's level rays, hot and yellow, smote the camp, and a low
+murmur ran from wagon to wagon. Jondo waited a minute longer, then he
+climbed to the wagon tongue at the head of the ellipse of vehicles, his
+commanding form outlined against the open space, his fine face illumined
+by the sunlight.
+
+"Boys, listen to me."
+
+Men listened when Jondo spoke.
+
+"I believe we are in danger, but you have doubted my word. I leave the
+days to prove who is right. At midnight I sent Gail Clarenden to find
+out what is beyond that ridge--a band of men running parallel with us
+that shadows us day by day. If he is not here in ten minutes, we must go
+after him."
+
+A hush fell on the camp. The oxen switched at the first nipping insects
+of the morning, and the ponies and mules, with that horse-sense that all
+horsemen have observed in them at times, stood as if waiting for a
+decision to be made.
+
+Beverly Clarenden was first to speak.
+
+"If anybody goes after Gail, it's _me_, and I'll not stop till I get
+him," he cried, all the brotherly love of a lifetime in his ringing
+voice.
+
+"And me!" "And me!" "And me!" came from a dozen throats. Plainsmen were
+always the truest of comrades in the hour of danger. Nobody questioned
+Jondo's wisdom now. All thought was for the missing man.
+
+Rex Krane had leaped up on the wagon next to Jondo's and stood gazing
+toward the northwest. At this outburst of eagerness he turned to the
+crowd in the corral.
+
+"You wait five minutes and Gail will be here. He's gettin' into sight
+out yonder now," he declared.
+
+Another shout, a rush for the open, and a straining of eyes to make sure
+of the lone rider coming swiftly down the trail I had followed out at
+midnight. And amid a wild swinging of hats and whoops of joy I rode into
+camp, hugged by Beverly and questioned by everybody, eager for my story
+from the time I left the camp until I rode into it again.
+
+"They took me to Pawnee Rock before they let me know anything, except
+that my scalp would hang to the old chief's war-spear if I tried one
+eye-wink to get away from them. But they let me keep my gun, and I took
+it for a sign," I told the company. "They had a lot of ceremony getting
+seated, and then, without any smoking-tobacco or peace-pipe, they gave
+their message."
+
+"Who said the Kiowas wasn't friendly? They already sent us word enough,"
+one man broke in.
+
+Jondo's face, that had been bright and hopeful, now grew grave.
+
+"They said they mean us no harm. They were grateful to Uncle Sam for the
+favors he had given them. That the prairies were wide, and there was
+room for all of us on it," I continued. "In proof, they said that we
+would pass that old rock to-day unharmed where once they would have
+counted us their enemies. And they let me go to bring you all this word.
+They are going northeast into the big hunting-ground, and we are safe."
+
+No man could take defeat better than Jondo.
+
+"I am glad if I was wrong in my opinion," he said. "Fifteen years on
+that trail have made me cautious. I shall still be cautious if I am your
+captain. They did not smoke the peace-pipe. In my judgment the Kiowas
+lied. Two or three days will prove it. Choose now between me and my
+unchanged opinion, and some new train captain."
+
+"Oh, every man makes some bad guesses, Jondo. We'll keep you, of course,
+and it's a joke on you, that's all." So ran the comment, and we
+hurriedly broke camp and moved on.
+
+But with all of our captain's anxiety Pawnee Rock stood like a
+protecting shield above us when we camped at its base, and the long
+bright days that followed were full of a sense of security and good
+cheer as we pulled away for the Cimarron crossing of the Arkansas River,
+miles ahead.
+
+All day Jondo rode wide of the trail, sometimes on one side and
+sometimes on the other, watching for signs of an enemy. And the bluff,
+jovial crowd of bull-whackers laughed together at his holding on to his
+opinion out of sheer stubbornness.
+
+On the second night he asked for a triple guard and nobody grumbled, for
+everybody really liked the big plainsman and they could afford to be
+good-natured with him, now that he was unquestioningly in the wrong.
+
+The camp was in a little draw running down to the river, bordered by a
+mere ripple of ground on either side, growing deeper as it neared the
+stream and flattening out toward the level prairie in its upper
+portion. In spite of the triple guard, Jondo did not sleep that night;
+and, strangely enough, I, who had been dull to fear in the hands of the
+Indians two nights before, felt nervous and anxious, now when all seemed
+secure.
+
+Just at daybreak a light shower with big bullet-like drops of rain
+pattered down noisily on our camp and a sudden flash of lightning and a
+thunderbolt startled the sleepy stock and brought us to our feet, dazed
+for an instant. Another light volley of rain, another sheet of lightning
+and roar of thunder, and the cloud was gone, scattering down the
+Arkansas Valley. But in that flash all of Jondo's cause for anxiety was
+justified. The widening draw was full of Kiowas, hideous in war-paint,
+and the ridges on either side of us were swarming with Indians beating
+dried skins to frighten and stampede our stock, and all yelling like
+fiends, while a perfect rain of arrows swept our camp. With the river
+below us full of holes and quicksands, our enemies had only to hold the
+natural defense on either side while they drove us in a harrowing wedge
+back to the water. If our ponies and mules should break from the corral
+they would rush for the river or be lost in the widening space back from
+the deeper draw, where a well-trained corps of thieves knew how to
+capture them. I had estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two
+nights before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
+Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or hell
+that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake, with the foe
+four to one, man for man against us.
+
+Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write these
+words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning, clear and
+strong above the awful din, for nature made him to command in moments of
+peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one force to guard the corral, one
+to seize and hold either bank and one to charge on the advance of the
+Indians down the draw. We were on the defensive, as our captain had
+planned we should be, and every man of us realized bitterly now how much
+he had done for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.
+
+On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And the
+sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots had sped
+home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid plan of action
+against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds and gods were with
+them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the eastern sky was aflame, casting
+a lurid glare across the edges of the draw as a stream of savages with
+painted faces and naked bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral.
+In an instant the chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and
+our mules and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
+they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the entire
+battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by arrows,
+tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they had cleared the
+ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of hoofs on the hard
+earth told how well the thing had been done and how furiously our
+animals were being whirled away.
+
+"Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"
+
+Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a dozen
+bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling wide, we rode
+like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid our precious
+property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad burst of speed to save
+our own. We were gaining now, and turning the cloud toward the river.
+Another spurt, and we would have them checked, faced about, subdued. I
+saw the end, and as the boys swung forward I urged them on.
+
+"To the river. To the river. Head 'em south!" I cried.
+
+And Rex Krane, like a centaur, swirled by me to do the thing I ordered.
+Behind me rode Beverly Clarenden bareheaded, his face aglow with power.
+As I looked back the dust engulfed him for a moment, and then I heard an
+arrow sing, and a sharp cry of pain. The dust had lifted and Beverly and
+a huge Indian, the tallest I have ever seen, were grappling together, a
+scalping-knife gleaming in the morning light. I dashed forward and
+felled the savage with the butt of my revolver. He leaped to his feet
+and sprang at me just as Beverly, with unerring aim, sent a blaze of
+fire between us. As the savage fell again, my cousin seized his pony;
+and with an arrow still swinging to his arm, dashed into the chase, and
+left it only when the stock, with the loss of less than a fourth, was
+driven up the river's sandy bank and over the swell into the camp
+inclosure.
+
+Meantime, Jondo at the front of his men charged into the very center of
+the savage battle-line as, furious for blood, they threshed across the
+narrow draw--the disciplined arm and courageous heart against a
+blood-thirsty foe. A charge, a falling back, another surge to win the
+lost ground, a steady holding on and sure advance, and then Jondo, with
+one triumphant shout of victory, struck the last fierce blow that sent
+the Kiowas into full flight toward the northwest, and the day was won.
+
+Out by the river, a sudden dullness seized me. I lifted my eyes to see
+Beverly free and Rex directing the charge; cattle, mules, and ponies
+turned back toward safety, and something crawling and writhing about my
+feet; Jondo's great shout of victory far away, it seemed, miles and
+miles to the north; a cloud of dust sweeping toward me; the crimson east
+aflame like the Day of judgment; the dust cloud rolling nearer; the
+yellow sands and slow-moving waters of the Arkansas; and six silent
+stalwart Kiowa braves, with snaky black eyes, looking steadily at me.
+Shadows, and the dust cloud upon me. Then all was night.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+
+
+    Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,
+    But we do not fall on the neck, nor kiss when we come together.
+                          --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+The whole thing was clear now, clear as the big white day that suddenly
+beamed along the prairies, scattering the clouds into gray strands
+against the upper heavens. The treachery of the Kiowas had been cleverly
+executed. Word of their friendliness had come to us through the Mexican
+caravan which could have no object in deceiving us, since it was on its
+way to Kansas City to do business with the Clarenden house there. And
+Jondo had sent a spy by night into the Kiowa camp as if they were not to
+be trusted. Yet they had taken no offense; but, letting me keep my
+firearms, had led me into their council on the top of Pawnee Rock, where
+they had told me in clear English that they had nothing but love for the
+white brothers of the plains. And to prove it we should pass unharmed
+along the trail where once we had wronged them by stealing their
+captive. The prairies were wide enough for all of us and they had
+forgotten--as an Indian always forgets--all malice against us. They had
+sent me back to camp with greetings to my captain, and had gone on their
+way to the heart of the Grand Prairie in the northeast.
+
+It was only Jondo, as he rode wide of the trail for two days, who could
+see any mark of an Indian's track. And we had not believed Jondo. We
+never made that mistake again: But trust in his shrewdness now, however,
+would not bring back the oxen lost and the mules and ponies captured by
+the thieving band of Dog Indians. But there was a greater loss than
+these. The Kiowas had come for revenge. It was blood, not plunder, they
+wanted. A dozen men with arrow wounds reported at roll call, and six men
+lay stark dead under the pitiless sky. Among them Davis of the St. Louis
+train, who had been too ill to take part in the struggle. One more loss
+was there to report, but it was not discovered until later.
+
+Indians seldom leave their dead on the field of battle, but the
+blood-stained sod beside their fallen ponies told a story of heavy toll.
+Blood marked the trail of hoofprints to the northwest in their wild rout
+thither. One comrade they had missed in their flight. He lay down near
+the river where the ground had been threshed over by the stampeded
+stock. He must have been a giant in life, for his was the longest grave
+made in the prairie sod that day. At the river's edge the sands were
+pricked with hoofprints, where the struggle to carry away the dead
+seemed to have reached clear into the thin yellow current of the
+Arkansas, although no trail led out on the far side of the stream.
+
+"That's the very copper cuss with yellow trimmings who had me down when
+that arrow stopped me," Beverly exclaimed. "He was seven feet tall and
+streaked with yellow just that way. I thought ten million rattlesnakes
+and eight billion polecats had hit me. His club was awful. Then I caught
+sight of old Gail's face in the dust-storm, coming back to help me. He
+gave the Indian one dose and got one back, a good hard bill, and then
+the dust closed in and Gail was off again to the northwest out there,
+like a hurricane. I could hear him a mile away. Couldn't I Gail? Where
+is Gail?"
+
+Where?
+
+"Oh, back there with the stock!"
+
+No?
+
+"Out there looking over the draw for things that's got all scattered."
+
+No? Not there?
+
+"Oh, he's getting breakfast. And we are all hungry enough to eat raw
+Kiowas now."
+
+No? No?
+
+"Gail would be helping the wounded, anyhow, or straightening out dead
+men's limbs. Poor fellows--to lose six! It's awful!"
+
+No? No? No?
+
+"Bathing in the river? Where? Over there across the sand-bar?"
+
+Nowhere! Nowhere!
+
+"By the eternal God, they've got him!" Jondo's agonized voice rang
+through the camp.
+
+"We can take care of the wounded, and those fellows lying over there
+don't need us. But, oh, Gail! They'll torture him to death!" Rex Krane's
+voice choked and he ground his teeth.
+
+"Gail, my Gail!" Beverly sat down white and desparingly calm--Beverly,
+whose up-bubbling spirits nobody could repress.
+
+The others wrung their hands and cursed and groaned aloud. Only Bill
+Banney, the unimaginative and stern-hearted, stood motionless with set
+jaws and black-frowning brows. Bill, whom the plains had made hard and
+unfeeling.
+
+"We won't give up Gail, will we, Bill?" Jondo spoke sternly, but his
+face--they said his face was bright with courage and that his eyes shone
+with the inspiration of his will. In all that crowd of eager, faithful
+men, he turned now to Bill Banney. Every man had his place on the
+plains, and Jondo out of the chrism of his own life-struggle knew that
+Bill was bearing a cross in silence, and that his was the martyr spirit
+that finds salvation only in deeds. Bill was the man for the place.
+
+And so while straying animals were slowly recovered, while the camp was
+set in order, while the dead were laid with simple reverence in
+un-coffined graves, and the sick were crudely ministered to, while
+Beverly grew feverish and his arrow wound became a festering sore, and
+Rex Krane, master of the company, cared for every thing and everybody
+with that big mother-heart of his--Jondo and Bill Banney pushed alone
+across the desolate plains toward where the Smoky Hills wrapped in their
+dim gray-blue mist mark the low watershed that rims the western valley
+of the Kaw.
+
+They went alone because skill, and not numbers, could save a captive
+from the hands of the Kiowas, and the sight of a force would mean death
+to the victim before he could be rescued.
+
+A splash of water against a hot hand hanging down; a sense of light, of
+motion; a glimpse of coarse sands and thin straggling weeds beside the
+edge of the stream down which the pathway ran; a sharp aching at the
+base of the brain; an agony of strained muscles--thus slowly I came to
+my senses, to memory, to the knowledge that I was bound hand and foot to
+a pony's back; that the sun was hot, and the sands were hotter, and the
+glare on the waters blinding; that every splash of the pony's hoofs sent
+up glittering sparkles that stabbed my aching eyes like white-hot
+dagger-points; that the black and clotted dirt on the pony's shoulder
+was not mud, but blood; that before and behind were other splashing
+feet, all hiding the trail in the thin current of the wide old Arkansas;
+that the quick turns to follow the water and the need for speed gave no
+consideration to the helpless rider. The image of six pairs of snaky
+black eyes came to help the benumbed brain, and I knew with whom I was
+again captive. But there was no question about the friendly motive now,
+for there was no friendly motive now. And as we pushed on east, Jondo
+and Bill Banney were hurrying toward the northwest, and the space
+between us widened every minute. A wave of helplessness and despair
+swept over me; then a wild up-leaping prayer for deliverance to a
+far-away unpitying Heaven; a sudden sense of the futility of prayer in a
+land the Lord had forgotten; and then anger, hot and wholesome, and an
+unconquered, dominant will to gain freedom or to die game, swept every
+other feeling away, marvelously mastering the sense of pain that had
+ground mercilessly at every nerve. Then came that small voice which a
+man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the blare of
+daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who notes the
+sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death, slow-lingering,
+inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely plain. The glare on the
+waters softened. The heat fell away. The despair and agony lifted. In
+all the world--my world--there was only one, God; not a far, unpitying,
+book-made Lord beyond the height of the glaring blue dome above me. God
+beside me on, the yellow waters of the Arkansas. His hand in my hot
+hand! His strength about me, invisible, unbreakable, infinite. When a
+man enters into that shielding Presence, nothing else matters.
+
+I do not know how many miles we went down-stream, leaving no trail in
+the shallow water or along its hard-baked edges. But by the time we
+dropped that line I had begun to think coherently and to take note of
+everything possible to me, bound as I was, face downward, on the pony's
+back. It was when we had left the river that the hard riding began, and
+a merciful unconsciousness, against which I fought, softened some
+stretches of that long day's journey. We crossed the Santa Fé Trail and
+were pushing eastward out of sight of it to the north. No stop, no word,
+nothing but ride, ride, ride. Truly, I needed the Presence that went
+with me on the way.
+
+At sunset we stopped, and I was taken from my pony and thrown to the
+ground. I managed, in spite of my bonds, to sit up and look about me.
+
+We were on the top of Pawnee Rock. The heat of the day was spent and all
+the radiant tints of evening were making the silent prairies unspeakably
+beautiful. I do not know why I should have noted or remembered any of
+this, save that the mind sometimes gathers impressions under strange
+stress of suffering. I had had no food all day, and when our ponies
+stopped to drink, the agony of thirst was maddening. My tongue was
+swollen and my lips were cracked and bleeding. The leather thongs that
+bound me cut deep now. But--only the men who lived it can know what all
+this meant to the pioneer of the trail.
+
+I have sat on the same spot at sunset many a time in these my sunset
+years; have gazed in tranquil joy at the whole panorama of the heavens
+that hang over the prairies in the opalescent splendor of the
+after-sunset hour; have looked out over the earthly paradise of waving
+grain, all glowing with the golden gleam of harvest, in the heart of the
+rich Kansas wheat-lands--and somehow I'm glad of soul that I foreran
+this day and--maybe--maybe I, too, helped somewhat to build the way--the
+way that Esmond Clarenden had helped to clear a decade before and was
+building then.
+
+The six Indians gathered near me. One of them with unmerciful mercy
+loosened my bonds a trifle and gave me a sup of water. They did not want
+me to die too soon. Then they sat down to eat and drink. I did not shut
+my eyes, nor turn my head. I defied their power to crush me, and the
+very defiance gave me strength.
+
+The chill air of evening blew about the brow of the rock, the twilight
+deepened, and down in the valley the shadows were beginning to hide the
+landscape. But the evening hour is long on the headlands. And there was
+ample time for another kind of council than that to which I had listened
+three mornings ago, when I had been set free to bear a friendly message
+to my chief.
+
+They carried me--helpless in their hands--to where, unseen myself, and
+secured by rock fragment and rawhide thong, I could see far up the trail
+to the eastward. But I could give no signal of distress, save for the
+feeble call of my swollen, thirst-parched throat. Then the six bronze
+sons of the plains sat down before me, and looked at me. Looked! I never
+see a pair of beady black eyes to-day--and there are many such--that I
+do not long to kill somebody, so vivid yet is the memory of those
+murdering eyes looking at me.
+
+At last they spoke--plains English, it is true--but clear to give their
+meaning.
+
+"Chief Clarenden thinks Kiowas forget. He comes with little train across
+the prairies; Kiowas go to meet big train east and fight fair for
+Mexican brothers who hate Chief Clarenden. They do not stop to look for
+little sneaking coyotes when they seek big game. Clarenden steals away
+Kiowas' captive Hopi. Cheat Kiowas of big pay that white Medicine-man
+Josef would give for her. Mexican brothers and Kiowa tribe hate
+Clarenden. They take his son, _you_, to show Clarenden they can steal,
+too. Hopi girl! white brave! all the same."
+
+The speaker's words came deliberately, and he gave a contemptuous wave
+of the hand as he closed. And the six sat silent for a time. Then
+another voice broke the stillness.
+
+"Yonder is your trail. Chief Clarenden and big white chiefs go by to
+Santa Fé to buy and sell and grow rich. Indian sell captives to grow
+rich! No! White chief not let Indians buy and sell. But we do not kill
+white dogs. We leave you here to watch the trail for wagon-trains. They
+may not come soon. They may not see you nor hear you. You can see them
+pass on their way to get rich. You can watch them. Hopi girl would have
+brought us big money. We get no richer. Watch white men go get rich. You
+may watch many days till sun dries your eyes. Nothing trouble you here.
+Watch the trail. No wild animal come here. No water drown you here. No
+fine meat make you ache with eating here. Watch."
+
+The six looked long at me, and as the light faded their black eyes and
+dark faces seemed like the glittering eyes and hooked bills of six great
+dark birds of prey.
+
+When the last sunset glow was in the west the six rose up and walked
+backward, still looking at me, until they passed my range of vision and
+I could only feel their eyes upon me. Then I heard the clatter of
+ponies' feet on the hard rock, the fainter stroke on the thin, sandy
+soil, the thud on the thickening sod. Thump, thump, thump, farther and
+farther and farther away. The west grew scarlet, deepened to purple and
+melted at last into the dull gray twilight that foreruns the darkness of
+night. One ray of pale gold shimmered far along toward the zenith and
+lost itself in the upper heavens, and the stars came forth in the
+blue-black eastern sky. And I was alone with the Presence whose arm is
+never shortened and whose ear grows never heavy.
+
+The trail to the east was only a dull line along the darker earth. I
+looked up at the myriad stars coming swiftly out of space to greet me.
+The starlit sky above the open prairie speaks the voice of the Infinite
+in a grandeur never matched on land or sea.
+
+I thought of Little Blue Flower on that dim-lighted dawning when she had
+showed us her bleeding hands and lashed shoulders. And again I heard
+Beverly's boyish voice ring out:
+
+"Let's take her and take our chances."
+
+And then I was beside the glistening waters of the Flat Rock, and Little
+Blue Flower was there in her white Grecian robe and the wrought-silver
+headband with coral pendants. And Eloise. The golden hair, the soft dark
+eyes, the dainty peach-bloom cheek. Eloise whom I had loved always and
+always. Eloise who loved Beverly--good, big-hearted, sunny-faced
+Beverly, who never had visions. Any girl would love him. Most of all,
+Little Blue Flower. What a loving message she had left us in the one
+word, _Lolomi_. God pity her.
+
+A thousand sharp pains racked my body. I tried to move. I longed for
+water. Then a merciful darkness fell upon me--not sleep, but
+unconsciousness. And the stars watched over me through that black night,
+lying there half dead and utterly alone.
+
+Out to the northwest Jondo and Bill Banney rode long on the trail of the
+fleeing Kiowas. A picture for an artist of the West, these two rough men
+in the garb and mount and trappings of the plainsman, with eyes alert
+and strong faces, riding only as men can ride who go to save a life more
+eagerly than they would save their own. Not in rash haste, but with
+unchecked speed, losing no mark along the trail that should guide them
+more quickly to their goal, so they passed side by side, and neither
+said a word for hours along the way. Night came, and the needs of their
+ponies made them pause briefly. The trail, too, was harder to follow
+now. They might lose it in the darkness and so lose time. And those two
+men were going forth to victory. Not for one single heart-beat did they
+doubt their power to win, and the stead-fast assurance made them calm.
+
+Daylight again, and a fresher trail made them hurry on. They drank at
+every stream and ate a snatch of food as they rode. They reached the
+hurriedly quitted Kiowa camp, and searched for the sign of vengeance on
+a captive there. Jondo knew those signs, and his heart beat high with
+hope.
+
+"They haven't done it yet," he said to his companion. "They want to get
+away first. We are safe for a day."
+
+And they rode swiftly on again.
+
+"There's trouble here," Bill Banney declared as he watched the ground.
+"Too many feet. Could it be here?"
+
+His voice was hardly audible. The two men halted and read the ground
+with piercing eyes. Something had happened, for there had been a
+circling and chasing in and out, and the sod was cut deep with
+hoofprints.
+
+"No council nor ceremony, no open space for anything." Jondo would not
+even speak the word he was bound not to know.
+
+"They've divided, Jondo. Here goes the big crowd, and there a smaller
+one," Bill declared.
+
+"There were a lot of Dog Indians along for thieving. They've split here.
+Seem to have fussed a bit over it, too. And yonder runs the Kiowa trail
+to the north. Here go the Dogs east." Jondo replied. "We'll follow the
+Kiowas a spell," he added, after a thoughtful pause.
+
+And again they were off. It was nearing noon now, and the trail was
+fresher every minute. At last the plainsmen climbed a low swell, halting
+out of sight on the hither side. Then creeping to the crest, they looked
+down on the Indian camp lying in a little dry valley of a lost stream
+whose course ran underground beneath them.
+
+Lying flat on the ground, each with his head behind a low bush on the
+top of the swell, the men read the valley with searching eyes. Then
+Jondo, with Bill at his heels, slid swiftly down the slope.
+
+"Gail Clarenden isn't there. We must take the trail east, and ride
+hard," he said, in a hoarse voice.
+
+And they rode hard until they were beyond the range of the Kiowa
+outposts.
+
+"What's your game, Jondo?" Bill asked, at length.
+
+"They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's lost
+somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't quite
+understand, but we'll go on."
+
+It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the hardship of
+the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected him to give up. The
+sun blazed down in the heat of the late afternoon, and the baking earth
+lay brown and dry beneath the heat-quivering air. There was no sound
+nor motion on the plains as the two faithful brothers--in
+purpose--followed hard on the track of the Dog Indian band.
+
+Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of their
+chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far ahead. Jondo
+and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover was in sight, but if
+the Indians were unsuspicious they might not be discovered. On went the
+outlaw band, and the two white men followed after. Suddenly the Indians
+halted and grouped themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly
+for the cause. Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into
+view. They, too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two
+dull, motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
+White men didn't belong there.
+
+The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing eastward.
+Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band spurted east as
+rapidly.
+
+Jondo looked at Bill.
+
+"I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he cried,
+triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.
+
+"What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.
+
+"Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs out
+yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils getting
+him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the six. They have
+left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting back to join the tribe.
+They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll run down this trail to the south.
+Hurry, Bill! For God's sake, hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't
+see us back here."
+
+That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same clear
+sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green prairies; but
+it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and choking with thirst
+through the awful lengths of that summer day. Fitful unconsciousness,
+with fever and delirium, seeing mocking faces with snaky black eyes,
+looking long at me; food almost touching my lips, and floods of crystal
+waters everywhere just out of reach. I was on the bluff above the river
+at Fort Leavenworth again, watching for the fish on the sand-bars. They
+were Indians instead of fish, and they laughed at me and called me a big
+brown bob-cat. Then Mother Bridget and Aunty Boone would have come to me
+if I could only make them hear me. But the sun beat hot upon my burning
+face, and my swollen lips refused to moan.
+
+And then I looked to the eastward and hope sprang to life within me. A
+wagon-train was crawling slowly toward Pawnee Rock. Tears drenched my
+eyes until I could hardly count the wagons--twenty, thirty, forty. It
+must be far in the afternoon now, and they might encamp here. But they
+seemed to be hurrying. I could not see for pain, but I knew they were
+near the headland now. I could hear the rattle of the wagon-chains and
+the tramp of feet and shouts of the bull-whackers. I tugged masterfully
+at my bonds. It was a useless effort. I tried to shout, but only low
+moans came forth from my parched lips. I strove and raged and prayed.
+The wagons hurried on and on, a long time, for there were many of them.
+Then the rattling grew fainter, the voices were far off, the thud of
+hoof-beats ceased. The train had passed the Rock, never dreaming that a
+man lay dying in sight of the succor they would so gladly have given.
+
+The sun began to strike in level rays across the land, and the air was
+cooler, but I gave no heed to things about me. Death was waiting--slow,
+taunting death. The stars would be kind again to-night as they had been
+last night, but death crouching between me and the starlight, was slowly
+crawling up Pawnee Rock. Oh, so slowly, yet so surely creeping on. The
+sun was gone and a tender pink illumined the sky. The light was soft
+now. If death would only steal in before the glare burst forth. I forgot
+that night must come first. Pity, God of heaven, pity me!
+
+And then the Presence came, and a sweet, low voice--I hear it still
+sometimes, when sunsets soften to twilight, "_My presence shall go with_
+_thee, and I will give thee rest."_ I felt a thrill of triumph pulse
+through my being. Unconquered, strong, and glad is he who trusts.
+
+"I shall not die. I shall live, and in God's good time I shall be
+saved." I tried to speak the words, but I could not hear my voice. My
+pains were gone and I lay staring at the evening sky all
+mother-of-pearl and gold above my head. And on my lips a smile.
+
+And so they found me at twilight, as a tired child about to fall asleep.
+They did not cry out, nor fall on my neck, nor weep. But Bill Banney's
+strong arms carried me tenderly away. Water, food, unbound swollen
+limbs, bathed in the warm Arkansas flow, soft grass for a bed, and the
+eyes of the big plainsman, my childhood idol, gentle as a girl's,
+looking unutterable things into my eyes.
+
+I've never known a mother's love, but for that loss the Lord gave
+me--Jondo.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+
+
+    Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be
+    The dearest bond between my heart and thee.
+                       --ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
+
+
+When we reached the end of the trail and entered a second time into
+Santa Fé the Stars and Stripes were floating lazily above the Palace of
+the Governors. Out on the heights beyond the old Spanish prison stood
+Fort Marcy, whose battlements told of a military might, strong to
+control what by its strength it had secured. In its shadow was La
+Garita, of old the place of execution, against whose blind wall many a
+prisoner had started on the long trail at the word of a Spanish bullet,
+La Garita changed now from a thing of legalized horror to a landmark of
+history.
+
+But the city itself seemed unchanged, and there was little evidence that
+Yankee thrift and energy had entered New Mexico with the new government.
+The narrow street still marked the trail's end before the Exchange
+Hotel. San Miguel, with its dun walls and triple-towered steeple, still
+good guard over the soul of Santa Fé, as it had stood for three sunny
+centuries. The Mexican still drove down the loaded burro-train of
+firewood from the mountains. The Indian basked in the sunny corners of
+the Plaza. The adobe dwellings clustered blindly along little lanes
+leading out to nowhere in particular. The orchards and cornfields,
+primitively cultivated, made tiny oases beside the trickling streams and
+sandy beds of dry arroyos. The sheep grazed on the scant grasses of the
+plain. The steep gray mesa slopes were splotched with clumps of
+evergreen shrubs and piñon trees. And over all the silent mountains kept
+watch.
+
+The business house of Felix Narveo, however, did not share in this
+lethargy. The streets about the Plaza were full of Conestoga wagons,
+with tired ox-teams lying yoked or unyoked before them. Most of the
+traffic borne in by these came directly or indirectly to the house of
+Narveo. And its proprietor, the same silent, alert man, had taken
+advantage of a less restricted government, following the Mexican War, to
+increase his interests. So mine and meadow, flock and herd, trappers'
+snare and Indian loom and forge, all poured their treasures into his
+hands--a clearing-house for the products of New Mexico to swell the
+great overland commerce that followed the Santa Fé Trail.
+
+For all of which the ground plan had been laid mainly by Esmond
+Clarenden, when with tremendous daring he came to Santa Fé and spied out
+the land for these years to follow.
+
+A boy's memory is keen, and all the hours of that other journey hither,
+with their eager anticipation and youthful curiosity, and love of
+surprise and adventure, came back to Beverly Clarenden and me as we
+pulled along the last lap of the trail.
+
+"Was it really so long ago, Bev, that we came in here, all eyes and
+ears?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"No, it was last evening. And not an eyebrow in this Rip Van Winkle town
+has lifted since," Beverly replied. "Yonder stands that old church where
+the gallant knight on a stiff-legged pony spied Little Lees and knocked
+the head off of that tormenting Marcos villain, and kicked it under the
+door-step. Say, Gail, I'd like mighty well to see the grown-up Little
+Lees, wouldn't you? And I'd as soon this was Saint Louis as Santa Fé."
+
+Since the night of Mat's wedding, I had been resolutely putting away all
+thought of Eloise St. Vrain. I belonged to the plains. All my training
+had been for this. I thought I was very old and settled now. But the
+mention of her pet name sent a thrill through me; and these streets of
+Santa Fé brought back a flood of memories and boyhood dreams and
+visions.
+
+"Bev, how many auld-lang-syners do you reckon we'll meet in this land of
+sunshine and _chilly_ beans?" I asked, carelessly.
+
+"Well, how many of them do you remember, Mr. Cyclopedia of Prominent Men
+and Pretty Women?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"Oh, there was Felix Narveo and Father Josef--and Little Blue
+Flower"--A shadow flitted across my cousin's face for a moment, leaving
+it sunny as ever again.
+
+"And there was that black-eyed Marcos boy everywhere, and Ferdinand
+Ramero whom we were warned to step wide of," I went on.
+
+"Oh, that tall thin man with blue-glass eyes that cut your fingers when
+he looked at you. Maybe he went out the back door of New Mexico when
+General Kearny peeped in at the front transom. There wasn't any fight in
+that man."
+
+"Jondo says he is still in Santa Fé." Just as I spoke an Indian swept by
+us, riding with the ease of that born-to-the-horseback race.
+
+"Beverly, do you remember that Indian boy that we saw out at Agua Fria?"
+I asked.
+
+"The day we found Little Lees asleep in the church?" Beverly broke in,
+eagerly.
+
+In our whole journey he had hardly spoken of Eloise, and, knowing
+Beverly as I did, I had felt sure for that reason that she had not been
+on his mind. Now twice in five minutes he had called her name. But why
+should he not remember her here, as well as I?
+
+"Yes, I remember there was an Indian boy, sort of sneaky like, and deaf
+and dumb, that followed us until I turned and stared him out of it.
+That's the way to get rid of 'em, Gail, same as a savage dog," Beverly
+said, lightly.
+
+"What if there are six of them all staring at you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Gail, for the Lord's sake forget that!"
+
+Beverly cried, affectionately. "When you've got an arrow wound rotting
+your arm off and six hundred and twenty degrees of fever in your blood,
+and the son of your old age is gone for three days and nights, and you
+don't dare to think where, you'll know why a fellow doesn't want to
+remember." There were real tears in the boy's eyes. Beverly was deeper
+than I had thought.
+
+"Well, to change gradually, I wonder if that centaur who just passed us
+might be that same Indian of Agua Fria of long ago."
+
+"He couldn't be," Beverly declared, confidently. "That boy got one
+square look at my eagle eye and he never stopped running till he jumped
+into the Pacific Ocean. 'I shall see him again over there.'" Half
+chanting the last words, Beverly, boy-hearted and daring and happy,
+cracked his whip, and our mule-team began to prance off in mule style
+the journey's latter end.
+
+Oh, Beverly! Beverly! Why did that day on the parade-ground at Fort
+Leavenworth and a boy's pleading face lifted to mine, come back to me at
+that moment? Strange are the lines of life. I shall never clearly read
+them all.
+
+Down in the Plaza a tall, slender young man was sitting in the shade,
+idly digging at the sod with an open pocket-knife. There was something
+magnetic about him, the presence that even in a crowd demands a second
+look.
+
+He was dressed in spotless white linen, and with his handsome mustache,
+his well-groomed black hair, and sparkling black eyes, he was a true
+type of the leisure son of the Spanish-Mexican grandee. He stared at
+our travel-stained caravan as it rolled down the Plaza's edge, but his
+careless smile changed to an insolent grin, showing all his perfect
+teeth as he caught sight of Beverly and me.
+
+We laid no claims to manly beauty, but we were stalwart young fellows,
+with the easy strength of good health, good habits, clear conscience,
+and the frank faces of boys reared on the frontier, and accustomed to
+its dangers by men who defied the very devil to do them harm. But even
+in our best clothes, saved for the display at the end of the trail, we
+were uncouth compared to this young gentleman, and our tanned faces and
+hard brown hands bespoke the rough bull-whacker of the plains.
+
+As our train halted, the young man lighted a cigar and puffed the smoke
+toward us, as if to ignore our presence.
+
+"Its mamma has dressed it up to go and play in the park, but it mustn't
+speak to little boys, nor soil its pinafore, nor listen to any naughty
+words. And it couldn't hold its own against a kitten. Nice little
+clothes-horse to hang white goods on!"
+
+Beverly had turned his back to the Plaza and was speaking in a low tone,
+with the serious face and far-away air of one who referred to a thing of
+the past.
+
+"Bev, you are a mind-reader, a character-sketcher--" I began, but
+stopped short to stare into the Plaza beyond him.
+
+The young man had sprung to his feet and stood there with flashing eyes
+and hands clenched. Behind him was the same young Indian who had passed
+us on the trail. He was lithe, with every muscle trained to strength and
+swiftness and endurance.
+
+He had muttered a word into the young white man's ear that made him
+spring up. And while the face of the Indian was expressionless, the
+other's face was full of surprise and anger; and I recognized both faces
+in an instant.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, there are two auld-lang-syners behind you right now.
+One is Marcos Ramero, and the other is Santan of Bent's Fort," I said,
+softly.
+
+Beverly turned quickly, something in his fearless face making the two
+men drop their eyes. When we looked again they had left the Plaza by
+different ways.
+
+After dinner that evening Jondo and Bill Banney hurried away for a
+business conference with Felix Narveo. Rex and Beverly also disappeared
+and I was alone.
+
+The last clear light of a long summer day was lingering over the valley
+of the Rio Grande, and the cool evening breeze was rippling in from the
+mountains, when I started out along the narrow street that made the
+terminal of the old Santa Fé Trail. I was hardly conscious of any
+purpose of direction until I came to the half-dry Santa Fé River and saw
+the spire of San Miguel beyond it. In a moment the same sense of loss
+and longing swept over me that I had fought with on the night after
+Mat's wedding, when I sat on the bluff and stared at the waters of the
+Kaw flowing down to meet the Missouri. And then I remembered what Father
+Josef had said long ago out by the sandy arroyo:
+
+"Among friends or enemies, the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+I felt the strong need for a haven from myself as I crossed the stream
+and followed the trail up to the doorway of San Miguel.
+
+The shadows were growing long, few sounds broke the stillness of the
+hour, and the spirit of peace brooded in the soft light and sweet air. I
+had almost reached the church when I stopped suddenly, stunned by what I
+saw. Two people were strolling up the narrow, crooked street that
+wanders eastward beside the building--a tall, slender young man in white
+linen clothes and a girl in a soft creamy gown, with a crimson scarf
+draped about her shoulders. They were both bareheaded, and the man's
+heavy black hair and curling black mustache, and the girl's coronal of
+golden braids and the profile of her fair face left no doubt about the
+two. It was Marcos Ramero and Eloise St. Vrain. They were talking
+earnestly; and in a very lover-like manner the young man bent down to
+catch his companion's words.
+
+Something seemed to snap asunder in my brain, and from that moment I
+knew myself; knew how futile is the belief that miles of prairie trail
+and strength of busy days can ever cast down and break an idol of the
+heart.
+
+In a minute they had passed a turn in the street, and there was only
+sandy earth and dust-colored walls and a yellow glare above them, where
+a moment ago had been a shimmer of sunset's gold.
+
+"The one haven of safety always is the holy sanctuary."
+
+Father Josef's words sounded in my ears, and the face of old San Miguel
+seemed to wear a welcoming smile. I stepped into the deep doorway and
+stood there, aimless and unthinking, looking out toward where the Jemez
+Mountains were outlined against the southwest horizon. Presently I
+caught the sound of feet, and Marcos Ramero strode out of the narrow
+street and followed the trail into the heart of the city.
+
+I stared after him, noting the graceful carriage, the well-fitting
+clothes, and the proud set of the handsome head. There was no doubt
+about him. Did he hold the heart of the golden-haired girl who had
+walked into my life to stay? As he passed out of my sight Eloise St.
+Vrain came swiftly around the corner of the street to the church door,
+and stopped before me in wide-eyed amazement. Eloise, with her clinging
+creamy draperies, and the vivid red of her silken scarf, and her
+glorious hair.
+
+"Oh, Gail Clarenden, is it really you?" she cried, stretching out both
+hands toward me with a glad light in her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Little Lees, it is I."
+
+I took both of her hands in mine. They were soft and white, and mine
+were brown and horny, but their touch sent a thrill of joy through me.
+She clung tightly to my hands for an instant. Then a deeper pink swept
+her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes and stepped back.
+
+"They told me you were--lost--on the way; that some Kiowas had killed
+you."
+
+She lifted her face again, and heaven had not anything better for me
+than the depths of those big dark eyes looking into mine.
+
+"Who told you, Eloise?"
+
+The girl looked over her shoulder apprehensively, and lowered her voice
+as she replied:
+
+"Marcos Ramero."
+
+"He's a liar. I am awfully alive, and Marcos Ramero knows I am, for he
+saw me and recognized me down in the Plaza this afternoon," I declared.
+
+Just then the church door opened and a girl in Mexican dress came out. I
+did not see her face, nor notice which way she took, for a priest
+following her stepped between us. It was Father Josef.
+
+"My children, come inside. The holy sanctuary offers you a better
+shelter than the open street."
+
+I shall never forget that voice, nor hear another like it. Inside, the
+candles were burning dimly at the altar. The last rays of daylight came
+through the high south windows, touching the carved old rafters and gray
+adobe with a red glow. Long ago human hands, for lack of trowels, had
+laid that adobe surface on the rough stone--hands whose imprint is
+graven still on those crudely dented walls.
+
+We sat down on a low seat inside of the doorway, and Father Josef passed
+up the aisle to the altar, leaving us there alone.
+
+"Eloise, Marcos Ramero is your friend, and I beg your pardon for
+speaking of him as I did."
+
+I resented with all my soul the thought of this girl caring for the son
+of the man who in some infamous way had wronged Jondo, but I had no
+right to be rude about him.
+
+"Gail, may I say something to you?" The voice was as a pleading call and
+the girl's farce was full of pathos.
+
+"Say on, Little Lees," was all that I could venture to answer.
+
+"Do you remember the day you came in here and threw Marcos Ramero out of
+that door?"
+
+"I do," I replied.
+
+"Would you do it again, if it were necessary? I mean--if--" the voice
+faltered.
+
+I had heard the same pleading tone on the night of Mat's wedding when
+Eloise and Beverly were in the little side porch together. I looked up
+at the red light on the old church rafters and the rough gray walls. How
+like to those hand-marked walls our memories are, deep-dented by the
+words they hold forever! Then I looked down at the girl beside me and I
+forgot everything else. Her golden hair, her creamy-white dress, and
+that rich crimson scarf draped about her shoulders and falling across
+her knees would have made a Madonna's model that old Giovanni Cimabue
+himself would have joyed to copy.
+
+"Is it likely to be necessary? Be fair with me, Eloise. I saw you two
+strolling up that little goat-run of a street out there just now.
+Judging from the back of his head, Marcos looked satisfied. I shouldn't
+want to interfere nor make you any trouble," I said, earnestly.
+
+"It is I who should not make you any trouble, but, oh, Gail, I came here
+this evening because I was afraid and I didn't know where else to go,
+and I found you. I thought you were dead somewhere out on the Kansas
+prairie. Maybe it was to help me a little that you came here to-night."
+
+Her hands were gripped tightly and her mouth was firm-set in an effort
+to be brave.
+
+"Why, Eloise, I'd never let Marcos Ramero, nor anybody else, make you
+one little heart-throb afraid. If you will only let me help you, I
+wouldn't call it trouble; I'd call it by another name." The longing to
+say more made me pause there.
+
+The light was fading overhead, but the church lamps gave a soft glow
+that seemed to shield off the shadowy gloom.
+
+"Father Josef came all the way from New Mexico to St. Ann's to have me
+come back here, and Mother Bridget sent Sister Anita, you remember her,
+up to St. Louis to come with me by way of New Orleans. I didn't tell you
+that I might be here when your train came in overland because--because
+of some things about my own people--"
+
+The fair head was bowed and the soft voice trembled.
+
+"Don't be afraid to tell me anything, Little Lees," I whispered,
+assuringly.
+
+"I never saw my father, but my mother was very beautiful and loving, and
+we were so happy together. I was still a very little girl when she fell
+sick and they took me away from her. I never knew when she died nor
+where she was buried. Ferdinand Ramero had charge of her property. He
+controlled everything after she went away, and I have always lived in
+fear of his word. I am helpless when he commands, for he has a strange
+power over minds; and as to Marcos--you know what a little cat I was. I
+had to be to live with him. It wasn't until we were all at Bent's Fort
+that I got over my fear of you and Beverly. The day you threw Marcos out
+of here was the first time I ever had a champion to defend me."
+
+I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her what I dared not think she
+would let me say. So I listened in sympathetic silence.
+
+"Then came an awful day out at Agua Fria, and Father Josef took me in
+his arms as he would take a baby, and sang me to sleep with the songs my
+mother loved to sing. I think it must have been midnight when I wakened.
+It was dreary and cold, and Esmond Clarenden and Ferdinand Ramero were
+there, and Father Josef and Jondo."
+
+And then she told me, as she remembered them, the happenings of that
+night at Agua Fria, the same story that Jondo told me later. But until
+that evening I had known nothing of how Eloise had come to us.
+
+"You know the rest," Eloise went on "I have had a boarding-school life,
+and no real friends, except the Clarenden family, outside of these
+schools."
+
+"You poor little girl! One of the same Clarenden family is ready to be
+your friend now," I said, tenderly, remembering keenly how Uncle Esmond
+and Jondo had loved and protected three orphan children.
+
+"The Rameros think nobody but a Ramero can do that now. Marcos is very
+much changed. He has been educated in Europe, is handsome, and courtly
+in his manners, and as his father's heir he will be wealthy. He came
+to-night to ask me, to urge and plead with me, to marry him." Eloise
+paused.
+
+"Do you need the defense of a bull-whacker of the plains against these
+things?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, I could depend on myself if it were only Marcos. He comes with
+polished ways and pleasing words," Eloise replied. "It is his father's
+iron fist back of him that strikes at me through his graciousness. He
+tells me that all the St. Vrain money, which he controls by the terms of
+my father's will, he can give to the Church, if he chooses, and leave me
+disinherited."
+
+"We don't mind that a bit as a starter up in Kansas. Come out on our
+prairies and try it," I suggested.
+
+"But, Gail, that isn't all. There is something worse, dreadfully worse,
+that I cannot tell you, that only the Rameros know, and hold like a
+sword over my head. If I marry Marcos his father will destroy all
+evidence of it and I shall have a handsome, talented, rich husband."
+Eloise bowed her head and clasped her hands, crushed by the misery of
+her lot.
+
+"And if you refuse to marry this scoundrel?" I asked, bluntly.
+
+"Then I will be a penniless outcast. The Rameros are powerful here, and
+the Church will be with them, for it will get my inheritance. I am
+helpless and alone and I don't know what to do."
+
+I think I had never known what anger meant before. This beautiful girl,
+homeless, and about to be robbed of her fortune, reared in luxury, with
+no chance for developing self-reliance and courage, was being hemmed in
+and forced to a marriage by threats of poverty and a secret something
+against which she was powerless. All the manhood in me rallied to her
+cause, and she was an hundredfold dearer to me now, in her helplessness.
+
+"Eloise, I'm a horny-handed driver of a bull-team on the Santa Fé Trail,
+but you will let me help you if I can. So far as your money is
+concerned, there's a lot of it on earth, even if the Church should grab
+up your little bit because Ferdinand Ramero says your father's will
+permits it. There are evil representatives in every Church, no matter
+what its name may be, Catholic, Protestant, Indian, or Jew, but Father
+Josef up there is bigger than his priestly coat, and you can trust that
+size anywhere. And as to the knowledge of this 'something' known just to
+Ferdinand Ramero, if he is the only one who knows it, it is too small to
+get far, if it were turned loose. And any man who would use such
+infamous means to get what he wants is too small to have much influence
+if he doesn't get it. This is a big, wide, good world, Little Lees, and
+the father of Marcos Ramero, with all his power and wealth, has a short
+lariat that doesn't let him graze wide. Jondo holds the other end of
+that lariat, and he knows."
+
+Eloise listened eagerly, but her face was very white.
+
+"Gail, you don't know the Ramero blood. I am helpless and terrified with
+them in spite of their suave manners and flattering words. Why did
+Father Josef bring me back here if the Church is not with them? And then
+that awful shadow of some hidden thing that may darken my life. I know
+their cruel, pitiless hearts. They stop at nothing when they want their
+way. I have known them to do the most cold-blooded deeds."
+
+Poor Eloise! The net about her had been skilfully drawn.
+
+"I don't know Father Josef's motive, but I can trust him. And no shadow
+shall trouble you long, Little Lees. Jondo and Uncle Esmond tote
+together,' Aunty Boone said long ago. They know something about the
+Ramero blood, and Jondo has promised to tell me his story some day. He
+must do it to-night, and to-morrow we'll see the end of this tangle.
+Trust me, Eloise," I said, comfortingly.
+
+"But, Gail, I'm afraid Ferdinand will kill you if you get in his way."
+Eloise clung to my arm imploringly.
+
+"Six big Kiowas got fooled at that job. Do you think this thin streak of
+humanity would try it?" I asked, lightly.
+
+Eloise stood up beside me.
+
+"I must go away now," she said.
+
+"Then I'll go with you. Thank you, Father Josef, for your kindness," I
+said as the priest came toward us.
+
+"You are welcome, my son. In the sanctuary circle no harm can come.
+Peace be with both of you."
+
+There was a world of benediction in his deep tones, and his smile was
+genial, as he followed us to the street and stood as if watching for
+some one.
+
+"I will meet you at San Miguel's to-morrow afternoon, Gail," Eloise
+said, as we reached a low but pretentious adobe dwelling. "This is my
+home now."
+
+"Your new Mexican homes are thick-walled, and you live all on the
+inside," I said, as we paused at the doorway. "They make me think of the
+lower invertebrates, hard-shelled, soft-bodied animals. Up on the Kansas
+prairies and the Missouri bluffs we have a central vetebra--the family
+hearth-stone--and we live all around it. That is the people who have
+them do. There isn't much home life for a freighter of the plains
+anywhere. Good by, Little Lees." I took her offered hand. "I'm glad you
+have let me be your friend, a hard-shelled bull-whacker like me."
+
+The street was full of shadows and the evening air was chill as the door
+closed on that sweet face and cloud of golden hair. But the pressure of
+warm white fingers lingered long in my sense of touch as I retraced my
+steps to the trail's end. At the church door I saw Father Josef still
+waiting, as if watching for somebody.
+
+All that Eloise had told me ran through my mind, but I felt sure that
+neither financial nor churchly influence in Santa Fé could be turned to
+evil purposes so long as men like Felix Narveo and Father Josef were
+there. And then I thought of Esmond Clarenden, himself neither Mexican
+nor Roman Catholic, who, nevertheless, drew to himself such
+fair-dealing, high-minded men as these, always finding the best to aid
+him, and combating the worst with daring fearlessness. Surely with the
+priest and the merchant and Jondo as my uncle's representative, no harm
+could come to the girl whom I knew that I should always love.
+
+And with my mind full of Eloise and her need I sought out Jondo and
+listened to his story.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OPENING THE RECORD
+
+
+  Fighting for leave to live and labor well,
+  God flung me peace and ease.
+                  --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+I found Jondo in the little piazza opening into the hotel court.
+
+"Where did you leave Krane and Bev?" he asked, as I sat down beside him.
+
+"I didn't leave them; they left me," I answered.
+
+"Oh, you young bucks are all alike. You know just enough to be good to
+yourselves. You don't think much about anybody else," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"I think of others, Jondo, and for that reason I want you to tell me
+that story about Ferdinand Ramero that you promised to tell me one night
+back on the trail."
+
+Jondo gave a start.
+
+"I'd like to forget that man, not talk about him," he replied.
+
+"But it is to help somebody else, not just to be good to myself, that I
+want to know it," I insisted, using his own terms. And then I told him
+what Eloise had told me in the San Miguel church.
+
+"Are the Ramero's so powerful here that they can control the Church in
+their scheme to get what they want?" I asked.
+
+"It would be foolish to underestimate the strength of Ferdinand Ramero,"
+Jondo replied, adding, grimly, "It has been my lot to know the best of
+men who could make me believe all men are good, and the worst of men who
+make me doubt all humanity." He clenched his fists as if to hold himself
+in check, and something, neither sigh nor groan nor oath nor prayer, but
+like them all, burst from his lips.
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the green
+prairies and the open plains, and the danger-stimulus of the old Santa
+Fé Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard,
+rebellious heart, and make you see things big, and despise the narrow
+little crooks in your path."
+
+One must have known Jondo, with his bluff manner and sunny smile and
+daring spirit, to feel the force, of these brave sad words. I felt
+intuitively that I had laid bare a wound of his by my story.
+
+"It is for Eloise, not for my curiosity, that I have come to you," I
+said, gently.
+
+"And you didn't come too soon, boy." Jondo was himself in a moment. "It
+is another cruel act in the old tragedy of Ramero against Clarenden and
+others."
+
+"Will the Church be bribed by the St. Vrain estate and urge this
+wedding?" I asked.
+
+"The Church considers money as so much power for the Kingdom. I have
+heard that the St. Vrain estate was left in Ramero's hands with the
+proviso that if Eloise should marry foolishly before she was twenty-five
+she, would lose her property. Do you see the trick in the game, and why
+Ramero can say that if he chooses he can take her heritage away from
+her? But as he keeps everything in his own hands it is hard to know the
+truth about anything connected with money matters."
+
+"Would Father Josef be party to such a transaction?" I asked, angrily.
+
+"Ramero thinks so, but he is mistaken," Jondo replied.
+
+"What makes you think he won't be?" I insisted.
+
+"Because I knew Father Josef before he became a priest, and why he took
+the vows," Jondo declared. "Unless a man brings some manhood to the
+altar, he will not find it in the title nor the dress there, it makes no
+difference whether he be Catholic, Protestant, Hebrew, or heathen.
+Father Josef was a gentleman before he was a priest."
+
+"Well, if he's all right, why did he bring Eloise back here into the
+heart of all this trouble?" I questioned.
+
+Jondo sat thinking for a little while, then he said, assuringly:
+
+"I don't know his motive, unless he felt he could protect her here
+himself; but I tell you, my boy, he can be trusted. Let me tell you
+something, Gail. When Esmond Clarenden and I were boys back in a New
+England college we knew two fellows from the Southwest whose fathers
+were in official circles at Washington. One was Felix Narveo,
+thoroughbred Mexican, thoroughbred gentleman, a bit lacking in
+initiative sometimes, for he came from the warmer, lazier lands, but as
+true as the compass in his character. The other fellow was Dick Verra,
+French father, English mother; I think he had a strain of Indian blood
+farther back somewhere, but he would have been a prince in any tribe or
+nation. A happy, wholesome, red-blooded, young fellow, with the world
+before him for his conquest.
+
+"We knew another fellow, too, Fred Ramer, self-willed, imperious,
+extravagant in his habits, greedy and unscrupulous; but he was handsome
+and masterful, with a compelling magnetism that made us admire him and
+bound us to him. He had never known what it meant to have a single wish
+denied him. And with his make-up, he would stop at nothing to have his
+own way, until his wilful pride and stubbornness and love of luxury
+ruined him. But in our college days we were his satellites. He was
+always in debt to all of us, for money was his only god and we never
+dared to press him for payment. The only one of us who ever overruled
+him was Dick Verra. But Dick was a born master of men. There was one
+other chum of ours, but I'll tell you about him later. Boys together, we
+had many escapades and some serious problems, until by the time our
+college days were over we were bound together by those ties that are
+made in jest and broken with choking voices and eyes full of tears."
+
+Jondo paused and I waited, silent, until he should continue.
+
+"Things happened to that little group of college men as time went on.
+You know your uncle's life, leading merchant of Kansas City and the
+Southwest; and mine, plainsman and freighter on the Santa Fé Trail.
+Felix Narveo's history is easily read. Esmond Clarenden came down here
+at the outbreak of the Mexican War, and together he and Narveo laid the
+foundation for the present trail commerce that is making the country at
+either end of it rich and strong. Dick Verra is now Father Josef." Jondo
+paused as if to gather force for the rest of the story. Then he said:
+
+"Back at college we all knew Mary Marchland, a beautiful Louisiana girl
+who visited in Washington and New England, and all of us were in love
+with her. When our life-lines crossed again Clarenden had come to St.
+Louis. About that time his two older brothers and their wives died
+suddenly of yellow fever, leaving you and Beverly alone. It was Felix
+Narveo who brought you up to St. Louis to your uncle."
+
+"I remember that. The steamboat, and the Spanish language, and Felix
+Narveo's face. I recalled that when I saw him years ago," I exclaimed.
+
+"You always were all eyes and ears, remembering names and faces, where
+Beverly would not recall anything," Jondo declared.
+
+"And what became of your Fred Ramer?" I asked.
+
+"He is Ferdinand Ramero here. He married Narveo's sister later. She is
+not the mother of Marcos, but a second wife. She owned a tract of land
+inherited from the Narveo estate down in the San Christobal country.
+There is a lonely ranch house in a picturesque cañon, and many acres of
+grazing-land. She keeps it still as hers, although her stepson, Marcos,
+claims it now. It is for her sake that Narveo doesn't dare to move
+openly against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
+with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
+freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's why I
+knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at Pawnee Rock. I
+could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He joined the Catholic
+Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But the traits of his young
+manhood, intensified, are still his. He is handsome, and attractive, and
+rich, and influential, but he is also cold-blooded, and greedy for money
+until it is his ruling passion, villainously unscrupulous, and
+mercilessly unforgiving toward any one who opposes his will; and his
+capacity for undying hatred is appalling."
+
+And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of Eloise St.
+Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.
+
+"The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in his life
+that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he went mad with
+jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters than whisky and opium,
+once they get a man down."
+
+Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one who,
+from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an enemy and turn
+away.
+
+"When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her life. He
+came between her and the man she loved with such adroit cruelty that
+they were separated, and although they loved each other always, they
+never saw each other again. Through a terrible network of
+misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by the way, was the
+other college chum I spoke of just now. He and his foster-brother,
+Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father. But their guardian, the
+elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their property and there was bitter
+enmity between them and him. Theron and Mary were the parents of Eloise
+St. Vrain. It is no wonder that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland
+for a mother. Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his
+property fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend
+to Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy marriage. In
+that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give the estate to the
+Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died, nor where she is buried,
+except Fred and his confessor, Father Josef."
+
+"How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a truer
+eye and a sweeter smile than my big Jondo.
+
+"Fred Ramer was desperately in need of money when he was plotting to
+darken the life of Mary Marchland--that was just before the birth of
+Eloise--and through her sorrow to break the heart of the man whom she
+loved--I said we college boys were all in love with her, you remember.
+Let me make it short now. One night Fred's father was murdered, by whom
+was never exactly proven. But he was last seen alive with his ward,
+Theron St. Wain, who, with his foster-brother, Bertrand, thoroughly
+despised him for his plain robbery of their heritage.
+
+"The case was strong against Theron, for the evidence was very damaging,
+and it would have gone hard with him but for the foster-brother.
+Bertrand St. Wain took the guilt upon himself by disappearing suddenly.
+He was supposed to have drowned himself in the lower Mississippi, for
+his body, recognized only by some clothing, was recovered later in a
+drift and decently buried. So _he_ was effaced from the records of man."
+
+In the dim light Jondo's blue eyes were like dull steel and his face was
+a face of stone, but he continued:
+
+"Just here Clarenden comes into the story. He learned it through Felix
+Narveo, and Felix got it from the Mexicans themselves, that Fred Ramer
+had plotted with them to put his father out of the way--I said he was
+desperately in need of money--and to lay the crime on Theron St.
+Vrain, by whose disgrace the life of Mary Marchland would be blighted,
+and Fred would have his revenge and his father's money. Narveo was
+afraid to act against Ramer, but nothing ever scared Esmond Clarenden
+away from what he wanted to do. Through his friendship for St. Vrain, to
+whom some suspicion still clung, and that lost foster-brother, Bertrand,
+he turned the screws on Fred Ramer that drove him out of the country. He
+landed, finally, at Santa Fé, and became Ferdinand Ramero. He managed by
+his charming manners to enchant the sister of Felix Narveo--and you know
+the rest."
+
+Jondo paused.
+
+"Didn't Felix Narveo go to Fort Leavenworth once, just before Uncle
+Esmond brought us with him to Santa Fé?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, he went to warn Clarenden not to leave you there unprotected, for
+a band of Ramero's henchmen were on their way then to the Missouri
+River--we passed them at Council Grove--to kidnap you three and take you
+to old Mexico," Jondo said. "An example of Fred's efforts to get even
+with Clarenden and of the loyalty of Narveo to his old college chum. The
+same gang of Mexicans had kidnapped Little Blue Flower and given her to
+the Kiowas."
+
+"You told me that Uncle Esmond forced Ferdinand Ramero out of the
+country on account of a wrong done to you, Jondo," I reminded the big
+plainsman.
+
+"He did," Jondo replied. "I told you that we all loved Mary Marchland.
+Fred Ramer broke under his loss of her, and became the devil's own tool
+of hate and revenge, and what generally gets tied up with these sooner
+or later, a passion for money and irregular means of getting it. Money
+is as great an asset for hate as for love, and Fred sold his soul for it
+long ago. Clarenden came to the frontier and lost himself in the
+building of the plains commerce, and his heart he gave to the three
+orphan children to whom he gave a home. When New Mexico came under our
+flag Narveo came with it, a good citizen and a loyal patriot. He married
+a Mexican woman of culture and lives a contented life. Dick Verra went
+into the Church. I came to the plains, and the stimulus of danger, and
+the benediction of the open sky, and the healing touch of the prairie
+winds, and the solemn stillness of the great distances have made me
+something more of a man than I should have been. Maybe I was hurt the
+worst. Clarenden thought I was. Sometimes I think Dick Verra got the
+best of all of us."
+
+Jondo's voice trailed off into silence and I knew what his hurt
+was--that he was the man whom Mary Marchland had loved, from whom Fred
+Ramer, by his cruel machinations, had separated her--"_and although they
+loved each other always, they never saw each other again_." Poor Jondo!
+What a man among men this unknown freighter of the plains might have
+been--and what a loss to the plains in the best of the trail years if
+Jondo had never dared its dangers for the safety of the generations to
+come.
+
+But the thought of Eloise, driven out momentarily by Jondo's story, came
+rushing in again.
+
+"You said you put a ring around Ramero to keep him in Santa Fé. Can't we
+get Eloise outside of it?" I urged, anxiously.
+
+"Maybe I should have said that Father Josef put it around him for me,"
+Jondo replied. "He confessed his crimes fully to the Church. He couldn't
+get by Father Josef. Here he is much honored and secure and we let him
+alone. The disgrace he holds the secret of--he alone--is that the father
+of Eloise killed his father, the crime for which the foster-brother
+fell. Ramero as guardian of Eloise and her property legally could have
+kept her here. Only a man like Clarenden would have dared to take her
+away, though he had the pleading call of her mother's last wish. Gail, I
+have told you the heart-history of half a dozen men. If this had stopped
+with us we could forgive after a while, but it runs down to you and
+Beverly and Eloise and Marcos, who will carry out his father's plans to
+the letter. So the battle is all to be fought over again. Let me leave
+you a minute or two. I'll not be gone long."
+
+I sat alone, staring out at the shadowy court and, above it, the blue
+night-sky of New Mexico inlaid with stars, until a rush of feet in the
+hall and a shout of inquiry told me that Beverly Clarenden was hunting
+for me.
+
+Meantime the girl in Mexican dress, who had come out of the church with
+Father Josef when he came to greet Eloise and me, had passed unnoticed
+through the Plaza and out on the way leading to the northeast. Here she
+came to the blind adobe wall of La Garita, whose olden purpose one still
+may read in the many bullet-holes in its brown sides. Here she paused,
+and as the evening shadows lengthened the dress and wall blended their
+dull tones together.
+
+Beverly Clarenden, who had gone with Rex Krane up to Fort Marcy that
+evening, had left his companion to watch the sunset and dream of Mat
+back on the Missouri bluff, while he wandered down La Garita. He did not
+see the Mexican woman standing motionless, a dark splotch against a dun
+wall, until a soft Hopi voice called, eagerly, "Beverly, Beverly."
+
+The black scarf fell from the bright face, and Indian garb--not Po-a-be,
+the student of St. Ann's and the guest of the Clarenden home, with the
+white Grecian robe and silver headband set with coral pendants, as
+Beverly had seen her last in the side porch on the night of Mat's
+wedding, but Little Blue Flower, the Indian of the desert lands, stood
+before him.
+
+"Where the devil--I mean the holy saints and angels, did you come from?"
+Beverly cried, in delight, at seeing a familiar face.
+
+"I came here to do Father Josef some service. He has been good to me. I
+bring a message."
+
+She reached out her hand with a letter. Beverly took the letter and the
+hand. He put the message in his pocket, but he did not release the
+hand.
+
+"That's something for Jondo. I'll see that he gets it, all right. Tell
+me all about yourself now, Little Run-Off-and-Never-Come-Back." It was
+Beverly's way to make people love him, because he loved people.
+
+It was late at last, too late for prudence, older heads would agree,
+when these two separated, and my cousin came to pounce upon me in the
+hotel court to tell me of his adventure.
+
+"And I learned a lot of things," he added. "That Indian in the Plaza
+to-day is Santan, or Satan, dead sure; and you'd never guess, but he's
+the same redskin--Apache red--that was out at Agua Fria that time we
+were there long ago. The very same little sneak! He followed us clear to
+Bent's Fort. He put up a good story to Jondo, but I'll bet he was
+somebody's tool. You know what a critter he was there. But listen now!
+He's got his eye on Little Blue Flower. He's plain wild Injun, and she's
+a Saint Ann's scholar. Isn't that presumption, though! She's afraid of
+him, too. This country fairly teams with romance, doesn't it?"
+
+"Bev, don't you ever take anything seriously?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I guess I do. I found that Santan, dead loaded with jealousy,
+sneaking after us in the dark to-night when I took Little Blue Flower
+for a stroll. I took him seriously, and told him exactly where he'd
+find me next time he was looking for me. That I'd stand him up against
+La Garita and make a sieve out of him," Beverly said, carelessly.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you are a fool to get that Apache's ill-will," I
+cried.
+
+"I may be, but I'm no coward," Beverly retorted. "Oh, here comes Jondo.
+I've got a letter from Father Josef. Invitation to some churchly dinner,
+I expect."
+
+Beverly threw the letter into Jondo's hands and turned to leave us.
+
+"Wait a minute!" Jondo commanded, and my cousin halted in surprise.
+
+"When did you get this? I should have had it two hours ago," Jondo said,
+sternly. "Father Josef must have waited a long time up at the church
+door for his messenger to come back and bring him word from me."
+
+Beverly frankly told him the truth, as from childhood we had learned was
+the easiest way out of trouble.
+
+Jondo's smile came back to his eyes, but his lips did not smile as he
+said: "Gail, you can explain things to Bev. This is serious business,
+but it had to come sooner or later. The battle is on, and we'll fight it
+out. Ferdinand Ramero is determined that Eloise and his son shall be
+married early to-morrow morning. The bribe to the Church is one-half of
+the St. Vrain estate. The club over Eloise is the shame of some disgrace
+that he holds the key to. He will stop at nothing to have his own way,
+and he will stoop to any brutal means to secure it. He has a host of
+fellows ready at his call to do any crime for his sake. That's how far
+money and an ungovernable passion can lead a man. If I had known this
+sooner, we would have acted to-night."
+
+Beverly groaned.
+
+"Let me go and kill that man. There ought to be a bounty on such wild
+beasts," he declared.
+
+"He'd do that for you through a Mexican dagger, or an Apache arrow, if
+you got in his way," Jondo replied. "But what we must do is this: Twenty
+miles south on the San Christobal Arroyo there is a lonely ranch-house
+on the old Narveo estate, a forgotten place, but it is a veritable fort,
+built a hundred years ago, when every house here was a fort. To-morrow
+at daybreak you must start with Eloise and Sister Anita down there. I
+will see Father Josef later and tell him where I have sent you. Little
+Blue Flower will show you the way. It is a dangerous ride, and you must
+make it as quickly and as silently as possible. A bullet from some
+little cañon could find you easily if Ramero should know your trail.
+Will you go?"
+
+There was no need for the question as Jondo well knew, but his face was
+bright with courage and hope, and a thankfulness he could not express
+shone in his eyes as he looked at us, big, stalwart, eager and unafraid.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+
+
+  Mark where she stands! Around her form I draw
+  The awful circle of our solemn church!
+  Set but a foot within that holy ground,
+  And on thy head--yea, though it wore a crown--
+  launch the curse of Rome.
+                                 --"RICHELIEU."
+
+
+The faint rose hue of early dawn was touching the highest peaks of the
+Sandia and Jemez mountain ranges, while the valley of the Rio Grande
+still lay asleep under dull night shadows, when five ponies and their
+riders left the door of San Miguel church and rode southward in the
+slowly paling gloom. In the stillness of the hour the ponies' feet,
+muffled in the sand of the way, seemed to clatter noisily, and their
+trappings creaked loudly in the dead silence of the place. Little Blue
+Flower, no longer in her Mexican dress, led the line. Behind her Beverly
+and the white-faced nun of St. Ann's rode side by side; and behind these
+came Eloise St. Vrain and myself. From the church door Jondo had watched
+us until we melted into the misty shadows of the trail.
+
+"Go carefully and fearlessly and ride hard if you must. But the
+struggle will be here with me to-day, not where you are," he assured us,
+when we started away.
+
+As he turned to leave the church, an Indian rose from the shadows beyond
+it and stepped before him.
+
+"You remember me, Santan, the Apache, at Fort Bent?" he questioned.
+
+Jondo looked keenly to be sure that his memory fitted the man before
+him.
+
+"Yes, you are Santan. You brought me a message from Father Josef once."
+
+The Indian's face did not change by the twitch of an eyelash as he
+replied.
+
+"I would bring another message from him. He would see you an hour later
+than you planned. The young riders, where shall I tell him they have
+gone?"
+
+"To the old ranch-house on the San Christobal Arroyo," Jondo replied.
+
+The Indian smiled, and turning quickly, he disappeared up the dark
+street. A sudden thrill shook Jondo.
+
+"Father Josef said I could trust that boy entirely. Surely old Dick
+Verra, part Indian himself, couldn't be mistaken. But that Apache lied
+to me. I know it now; and I told him where our boys are taking Eloise. I
+never made a blunder like that before. Damned fool that I am!"
+
+He ground his teeth in anger and disgust, as he sat down in the doorway
+of the church to await the coming of Ferdinand Ramero and his son,
+Marcos.
+
+Out on the trail our ponies beat off the miles with steady gait. As the
+way narrowed, we struck into single file, moving silently forward under
+the guidance of Little Blue Flower, now plunging into dark cañons, where
+the trail was rocky and perilous, now climbing the steep sidling paths
+above the open plain. Morning came swiftly over the Gloriettas. Darkness
+turned to gray; shapeless masses took on distinctness; the night chill
+softened to the crisp breeze of dawn. Then came the rare June day in
+whose bright opening hour the crystal skies of New Mexico hung above us,
+and about us lay a landscape with radiant lights on the rich green of
+the mesa slopes, and gray levels atint with mother-of-pearl and gold.
+
+The Indian pueblos were astir. Mexican faces showed now and then at the
+doorways of far-scattered groups of adobe huts. Outside of these all was
+silence--a motionless land full of wild, rugged beauty, and thrilling
+with the spell of mystery and glamour of romance. And overbrooding all,
+the spirit of the past, that made each winding trail a footpath of the
+centuries; each sheer cliff a watch-tower of the ages; each wide sandy
+plain, a rallying-ground for the tribes long ago gone to dust; each
+narrow valley a battle-field for the death-struggle between the dusky
+sovereigns of a wilderness kingdom and the pale-faced conquerors of the
+coat of mail and the dominant soul. The sense of danger lessened with
+distance and no knight of old Spain ever rode more proudly in the days
+of chivalry than Beverly Clarenden and I rode that morning, fearing
+nothing, sure of our power to protect the golden-haired girl, thrilled
+by this strange flight through a land of strange scenes fraught with the
+charm of daring and danger. Beverly rode forward now with Little Blue
+Flower. I did not wonder at her spell over him, for she was in her own
+land now, and she matched its picturesque phases with her own
+picturesque racial charm.
+
+I rode beside Eloise, forgetting, in the sweet air and glorious June
+sunlight, that we were following an uncertain trail away from certain
+trouble.
+
+The white-faced nun in her somber dress, rode between, with serious
+countenance and downcast eyes.
+
+"What happened to you, Little Lees, after I left you?" I asked, as we
+trotted forward toward the San Christobal valley.
+
+"Everything, Gail," she replied, looking up at me with shy, sad eyes.
+"First Ferdinand Ramero came to me with the command that I should
+consent to be married this morning. By this time I would have been
+Marcos' wife." She shivered as she spoke. "I can't tell you the way of
+it, it was so final, so cruel, so impossible to oppose. Ferdinand's eyes
+cut like steel when they look at you, and you know he will do more than
+he threatens. He said the Church demanded one-half of my little fortune
+and that he could give it the other half if he chose. He is as imperious
+as a tyrant in his pleasanter moods; in his anger he is a maniac. I
+believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
+threats of disgracing me were terrible."
+
+"But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her wretched
+memory.
+
+"I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has an
+Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her come in to
+see me late last night or I should not have been here now. I had almost
+given up when she brought me word that you and Beverly would meet me at
+the church at daylight. I have not slept since. What will be the end of
+this day's work? Isn't there safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the
+fair, sad face with the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.
+
+"Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight it out
+in Santa Fé to-day. It is our work to go where the Hopi blossom leads
+us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let anything happen to you."
+
+I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall that
+morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my abounding vigor and
+confidence in my courage and my powers.
+
+Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked the way
+of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande. On either hand tall
+cliffs, huge weather-worn points of rock, and steep slopes, spotted with
+evergreen shrubs, bordered the river's course. The silent bigness of
+every feature of the landscape and the beauty of the June day in the
+June time of our lives, and our sense of security in having escaped the
+shadows and strife in Santa Fé, all combined to make us free-spirited.
+Only Sister Anita rode, alert and sorrowful-faced, between Beverly and
+the gaily-robed Indian girl, and myself with Eloise, the beautiful.
+
+As we rounded a bend in the narrow valley, Little Blue Flower halted us,
+and pointing to an old half-ruined rock structure beside the stream, she
+said:
+
+"See, yonder is the chapel where Father Josef comes sometimes to pray
+for the souls of the Hopi people. The house we go to find is farther up
+a cañon over there."
+
+"I remember the place," Eloise declared. "Father Josef brought me here
+once and left me awhile. I wasn't afraid, although I was alone, for he
+told me I was always safe in a church. But I was never allowed to come
+back again."
+
+Sister Anita crossed herself and, glancing over her shoulder, gave a
+sharp cry of alarm. We turned about to see a group, of horsemen dashing
+madly up the trail behind us. The wind in their faces blew back the
+great cloud of dust made by their horses hoofs, hiding their number and
+the way behind them. Their steeds were wet with foam, but their riders
+spurred them on with merciless fury. In the forefront Ferdinand Ramero's
+tall form, towering above the small statured evil-faced Mexican band he
+was leading, was outlined against the dust-cloud following them, and I
+caught the glint of light on his drawn revolver.
+
+"Ride! Ride like the devil!" Beverly shouted.
+
+At the same time he and the Hopi girl whirled out and, letting us pass,
+fell in as a rear guard between us and our pursuers. And the race was
+on.
+
+Jondo had said the lonely ranch-house whither we were tending was as
+strong as a fort. Surely it could not be far away, and our ponies were
+not spent with hard riding. Before us the valley narrowed slightly, and
+on its rim jagged rock cliffs rose through three hundred feet of
+earthquake-burst, volcanic-tossed confusion to the high tableland
+beyond.
+
+As we strained forward, half a dozen Mexican horsemen suddenly appeared
+on the trail before us to cut off our advance. Down between us and the
+new enemy stood the old stone chapel, like the shadow of a great rock in
+a weary land, where for two hundred long years it had set up an altar to
+the Most High on this lonely savage plain.
+
+"The chapel! The chapel! We must run to that now," cried Sister Anita.
+
+Her long veil was streaming back in the wind, and her rosary and
+crucifix beating about her shoulders with the hard riding, but her white
+face was brave with a divine trust. Yet even as she urged us I saw how
+imposible was her plea, for the men in front were already nearer
+to the place than we were. At the same time a pony dashed up beside me,
+and Little Blue Flower's voice rang in my ears.
+
+"The rocks! Climb up and hide in the rocks!" She dropped back on one
+side of Beverly, with Sister Anita on the other, guarding our rear. As
+I turned our flight toward the cliff, I caught sight of an Indian in a
+wedge of rock just across the river, and I heard the singing flight of
+an arrow behind me, followed almost instantly by another arrow. I looked
+back to see Sister Anita's pony staggering and rearing in agony, with
+Little Blue Flower trying vainly to catch its bridle-rein, and Sister
+Anita, clutching wildly at her rosary, a great stream of blood flowing
+from an arrow wound in her neck.
+
+Men think swiftly in moments like these. The impulse to halt, and the
+duty to press on for the protection of the girl beside me, holding me in
+doubt. Instantly I saw the dark crew, with Ferdinand Ramero leading
+fiercely forward, almost upon us, and I heard Beverly Clarenden's voice
+filling the valley--"Run, Gail, run! You can beat 'em up there."
+
+It was a cry of insistences and assurances and power, and withal there
+was that minor tone of sympathy which had sounded in the boy's defiant
+voice long ago in the gray-black shadows below Pawnee Rock, when his
+chivalric soul had been stirred by the cruel wrongs of Little Blue
+Flower and he had cried:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+I knew in a flash that the three behind us were cut off, and Eloise St.
+Vrain and I pressed on alone. We crossed the narrow strip of rising
+ground to where the first rocks lay as they had fallen from the cliff
+above, split off by some titanic agony of nature. Up and up we went, our
+ponies stumbling now and then, but almost as surefooted as men, as they
+climbed the narrow way. Now the rocks hid us from the plain as we crept
+sturdily through narrow crevices, and now we clambered up an open path
+where nothing concealed our way. But higher still and higher, foot, by
+foot we pressed, while with oath and growl behind us came our pursuers.
+
+At last we could ride no farther, and the miracle was that our ponies
+could have climbed so far. Above us huge slabs of stone, by some
+internal cataclysm hurled into fragments of unguessed tons of weight,
+seemed poised in air, about to topple down upon the plain below. Between
+these wild, irregular masses a narrow footing zigzagged upward to still
+other wild, irregular masses, a footing of long leaps in cramped spaces
+between sharp edges of upright clefts, all gigantic, unbending, now
+shielding by their immense angles, now standing sheer and stark before
+us, casting no shadows to cover us from the great white glare of the
+New-Mexican day.
+
+I have said no man knows where his mind will run in moments of peril. As
+we left our ponies and clambered up and up in hope of safety somewhere,
+the face of the rocks cut and carved by the rude stone tools of a race
+long perished, seemed to hold groups of living things staring at us and
+pointing the way. And there was no end to these crude pictographs. Over
+and over and over--the human hand, the track of the little road-runner
+bird, the plumed serpent coiled or in waving line, the human form with
+the square body and round head, with staring circles for eyes and mouth,
+and straight-line limbs.
+
+We were fleeing for safety through the sacred aisles of a people God had
+made; and when they served His purpose no longer, they had perished. I
+did not think of them so that morning. I thought only of some
+hiding-place, some inaccessible point where nothing could reach the girl
+I must protect. But these crawling serpents, cut in the rock surfaces,
+crawled on and on. These human hands, poor detached hands, were lifted
+up in mute token of what had gone before. These two-eyed, one-mouthed
+circles on heads fast to body-boxes, from which waved tentacle limbs,
+jigged by us, to give place to other coiled or crawling serpents and
+their companion carvings, with the track of the swift road-runner
+skipping by us everywhere.
+
+At last, with bleeding hands and torn clothing, we stood on a level rock
+like a tiny mesa set out from the high summit of the cliff.
+
+Eloise sat down at my feet as I looked back eagerly over the precipitous
+way we had come, and watched the band of Mexicans less rapidly swarming
+up the same steep, devious trail.
+
+Three hundred feet below us lay the plain with the thin current of the
+San Christobal River sparkling here and there in the sunlight. The black
+spot on the trail that scarcely moved must be Beverly and Little Blue
+Flower with Sister Anita. No, there was only the Indian girl there, and
+something moving in and out of the shadow near them. I could not see for
+the intervening rocks.
+
+"Gail! Gail! You will not let them take you. You will not leave me,"
+Eloise moaned.
+
+And I was one against a dozen. I stooped to where she sat and gently
+lifted her limp white hand, saying:
+
+"Eloise, I was on a rock like this a night and a day alone on the
+prairie. I could not move nor cry out. But something inside told me to
+'hold fast'--the old law of the trail. You must do that with me now."
+
+A shout broke over the valley and the rocks about us seemed suddenly to
+grow men, as if every pictograph of the old stone age had become a
+sentient thing, a being with a Mexican dress, and the soul of a devil.
+Just across a narrow chasm, a little below us, Ferdinand Ramero stood in
+all the insolence of a conqueror, with a smile that showed his white
+teeth, and in his steely eyes was the glitter of a snake about to
+spring.
+
+"You have given us a hard race. By Jove, you rode magnificently and
+climbed heroically. I admire you for it. It is fine to bring down game
+like you, Clarenden. You have your uncle's spirit, and a six-foot body
+that dwarfs his short stature. And we come as gentlemen only, if we can
+deal with a gentleman. It wasn't our men who struck your nun down there.
+But if you, young man, dare to show one ounce of fighting spirit now,
+behind you on the rocks--don't look--as I lift my hand are my good
+friends who will put a bullet into the brain beneath that golden hair,
+and you will follow. Being a game-cock cannot help you now. It will only
+hasten things. Deliver that girl to me at once, or my men will close in
+upon you and no power on earth can save you."
+
+Eloise had sprung to her feet and stood beside me, and both of us knew
+the helplessness of our plight. A startling picture it must have been,
+and one the cliffs above the San Christobal will hardly see again: the
+blue June sky arched overhead, unscarred by a single cloud-fleck, the
+yellow plain winding between the high picturesque cliffs, where silence
+broods all through the long hours of the sunny day; the pictured rocks
+with their furnace-blackened faces white--outlined with the story of the
+dim beginnings of human strivings. And standing alone and defenseless on
+the little table of stone, as if for sacrifice, the tall, stalwart young
+plainsman and the beautiful girl with her golden hair in waving masses
+about her uncovered head, her sweet face white as the face of the dying
+nun beside the sandy arroyo below us, her big dark eyes full of a
+strange fire.
+
+"I order you to close in and take these two at once." The imperious
+command rang out, and the rocks across the valley must have echoed its
+haughty tone.
+
+"And I order you to halt."
+
+The voice of Father Josef, clear and rich and powerful, burst upon the
+silence like cathedral music on the still midnight air. The priest's
+tall form rose up on a great mass of rock across the cleft before
+us--Father Josef with bared head and flashing eyes and a physique of
+power.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned like a lion at bay. "You are one man. My force
+number a full dozen. Move on," he ordered.
+
+Again the voice of Father Josef ruled the listening ears.
+
+"Since the days of old the Church has had the power to guard all that
+come within the shelter of the holy sanctuary. And to the Church of God
+was given also long ago the might to protect, by sanctuary privilege,
+the needy and the defenseless. Ferdinand Ramero, note that little table
+of rock where those two stand helpless in your grasp. Around them now I
+throw, as I have power to throw, the sacred circle of our Holy Church in
+sanctuary shelter. Who dares to step inside it will be accursed in the
+sight of God."
+
+Never, never will I live through another moment like to that, nor see
+the power of the Unseen rule things that are seen with such unbreakable
+strength.
+
+The Mexicans dropped to their knees in humble prayer, and Ferdinand
+Ramero seemed turned to a man of stone. A hand was gently laid upon my
+arm and Jondo and Rex Krane stood beside us. A voice far off was
+sounding in my ears.
+
+"Go back to your homes and meet me at the church to-morrow night. You,
+Ferdinand Ramero, go now to the chapel yonder and wait until I come."
+
+What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+FINISHING TOUCHES
+
+     "_Yet there be certain times in a young man's life when through
+     great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away so
+     that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of
+     manhood."_
+                                                          --KIPLING.
+
+
+The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San Christobal
+Valley, and there was not a single cloud in the June skies to throw a
+softening shadow on the yellow plain. A little group of Mexicans, riding
+northward with sullen faces, urged on their jaded ponies viciously as
+they thought of the gold that was to have been paid them for this
+morning's work, and of the gold that to-morrow night must go to pay the
+priest who should shrive them; and they had nothing gained wherewith to
+pay. Their leader, whom they had served, had been trapped in his own
+game, and they felt themselves abused and deceived.
+
+Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the door of
+the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group coming slowly
+toward him: Ferdinand Ramero, riding like a captured but unconquered
+king, his head erect, his flashing eyes seeing nobody; Jondo who could
+make the shabbiest piece of horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it,
+his tanned cheek flushed, and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking
+out through his dark-blue eyes; Eloise, drooping like a white flower,
+but brave of spirit now, sure that her grief and anxiety would be lifted
+somehow. I rode beside her, glad to catch the faint smile in her eyes
+when she looked at me. And last of all, Rex Krane, with the same old
+Yankee spirit, quick to help a fellow-man and oblivious to personal
+danger. So we all came to the chapel, but at the door Rex wheeled and
+rode away, muttering, as he passed me:
+
+"I've got business to look after, and not a darned thing to confess."
+
+And Beverly! He was not with us.
+
+When Rex Krane told his bride good-by up in the Clarenden home on the
+Missouri bluff, Mat had whispered one last request:
+
+"Look after Bev. He never sees danger for himself, nor takes anything
+seriously, least of all an enemy, whom he will befriend, and make a joke
+of it."
+
+And so it happened that Rex had stayed behind to care for Beverly's
+arrow wound when Bill Banney had gone out with Jondo on the Kiowa trail
+to search for me this side of Pawnee Rock.
+
+So also it happened that Rex had strolled down from Fort Marcy the night
+before, in time to see Beverly and the girl in the Mexican dress
+loitering along the brown front of La Garita. And his keen eyes had
+caught sight of Santan crouching in an angle of the wall, watching them.
+
+"Indians and Mexes don't mix a lot. And Bev oughtn't mix with either
+one," Rex commented. "I'll line the boy up for review to-morrow, so Mat
+won't say I've neglected him."
+
+But the Yankee took the precaution to follow the trail to the Indian's
+possible abiding-place on the outskirts of Santa Fé. And it was Rex who
+most aided Jondo in finding that the Indian had gone with Ramero's men
+northward.
+
+"That fellow is Santan, of Fort Bent, Rex," Jondo said.
+
+"Yes, you thought he was _Santa_ and I took him for _Satan_ then. We
+missed out on which to knock out of him. Bev won't care nothin' about
+his name. He will knock hell out of him if he gets in that Clarenden
+boy's way," Rex had replied.
+
+At the chapel door now the Yankee turned away and rode down the trail
+toward the little angle where an Indian arrow had whizzed at our party
+an hour before.
+
+In the shadow of a fallen mass of rock below the cliff Little Blue
+Flower had spread her blanket, with Beverly's coat tucked under it in a
+roll for a pillow, and now she sat beside the dying nun, holding the
+crucifix to Sister Anita's lips. The Indian girl's hands were
+blood-stained and the nun's black veil and gown were disheveled, and her
+white head-dress and coif were soaked with gore. But her white face was
+full of peace as the light faded from her eyes.
+
+And Beverly! The boy forgot the rest of the world when one of the
+Apache's arrows struck down the pony and the other pierced Sister
+Anita's neck. Tenderly as a mother would lift a babe he quickly carried
+the stricken woman to the shelter of the rock, and with one glance at
+her he turned away.
+
+"You can do all that she needs done for her. Give her her cross to
+hold," he said, gently, to Little Blue Flower.
+
+Then he sprang up and dashed across the river, splashing the bright
+waters as he leaped to the farther side where Santan stood concealed,
+waiting for the return of Ramero's Mexicans.
+
+At the sound of Beverly's feet he leaped to the open just in time to
+meet Beverly's fist square between the eyes.
+
+"Take that, you dirty dog, to shoot down an innocent nun. And that!"
+Beverly followed his first blow with another.
+
+The Apache, who had reeled back with the weight of the boy's iron fist,
+was too quick for the second thrust, struggling to get hold of his
+arrows and his scalping-knife. But the space was too narrow and Beverly
+was upon him with a shout.
+
+"I told you I'd make a sieve or you the next time you tried to see me,
+and I'm going to do it."
+
+He seized the Indian's knife and flung it clear into the river, where
+it stuck upright in the sands of the bed, parting the little stream of
+water gurgling against it; and with a powerful grip on the Apache's
+shoulders he wrenched the arrows from their place and tramped on them
+with his heavy boot.
+
+The Indian's surprise and submission were gone in a flash, and the two
+clinched in combat.
+
+On the one hand, jealousy, the inherited hatred of a mistreated race,
+the savage instinct, a gloating joy in brute strife, blood-lust, and a
+dogged will to trample in the dirt the man who made the sun shine black
+for the Apache. On the other hand, a mad rage, a sense of insult, a
+righteous greed for vengeance for a cruel deed against an innocent
+woman, and all the superiority of a dominant people. The one would
+conquer a powerful enemy, the other would exterminate a despicable and
+dangerous pest.
+
+Back and forth across the narrow space hidden from the trail by fallen
+rock they threshed like beasts of prey. The Apache had the swiftness of
+the snake, his muscles were like steel springs, and there was no rule of
+honorable warfare in his code. He bit and clawed and pinched and
+scratched and choked and wrenched, with the grim face and burning eyes
+of a murderer. But the Saxon youth, slower of motion, heavier of bone
+and muscle, with a grip like iron and a stony endurance, with pride in a
+conquest by sheer clean skill, and with a purpose, not to take life, but
+to humble and avenge, hammered back blow for blow; and there was
+nothing for many minutes to show which was offensive and which
+defensive.
+
+As the struggle raged on, the one grew more furious and the other more
+self-confident.
+
+"Oh, I'll make you eat dust yet!" Beverly cried, as Santan in triumph
+flung him backward and sprang upon his prostrate form.
+
+They clinched again, and with a mighty surge of strength my cousin
+lifted himself, and the Indian with him, and in the next fall Beverly
+had his antagonist gripped and helpless.
+
+"I can choke you out now as easy as you shot that arrow. Say your
+prayers." He fairly growled out the words.
+
+"I didn't aim at her," the Apache half whined, half boasted. "I wanted
+you."
+
+At that moment Beverly, spent, bruised, and bleeding with fighting and
+surcharged with the lust of combat, felt all the instinct of murder
+urging him on to utterly destroy a poison-fanged foe to humanity. At
+Santan's words he paused and, flinging back the hair from his forehead,
+he caught his breath and his better self in the same heart-beat. And the
+instinct of the gentleman--he was Esmond Clarenden's brother's son--held
+the destroying hand.
+
+"You aimed at me! Well, learn your lesson on that right now. Promise
+never to play the fool that way again. Promise the everlasting God's
+truth, or here you go."
+
+The boy's clutch tightened on Santan's throat. "By all that's holy,
+you'll go to your happy hunting-ground _right now, unless you do_!" He
+growled out the words, and his blazing eyes glared threateningly at his
+fallen enemy.
+
+"I promise!" Santan muttered, gasping for breath.
+
+"You didn't mean to kill the nun? Then you'll go with me and ask her to
+forgive you before she dies. You will. You needn't try to get away from
+me. I let you thrash your strength out before we came to this
+settlement. Be still!" Beverly commanded, as Santan made a mad effort to
+release himself.
+
+"Hurry up, and remember she is dying. Go softly and speak gently, or by
+the God of heaven, you'll go with her to the Judgment Seat to answer for
+that deed right now!"
+
+Slowly the two rose. Their clothes were torn, their hair disheveled, the
+ground at their feet was red with their blood. They were as bitter, as
+distrustful now as when their struggle began. For brute force never
+conquers anything. It can only hold in check by fear of its power to
+destroy the body. Above the iron fist of the fighter, and the sword and
+cannon of the soldier, stands the risen Christ who carried his own cross
+up Mount Calvary--and "there they crucified him."
+
+The two young men, spent with their struggle, their faces stained with
+dirt and bloody sweat, crossed the river and sought the shadowy place
+where Little Blue Flower sat beside Sister Anita. Twice Santan tried to
+escape, and twice Beverly brought him quickly to his place. It must
+have been here that I caught sight of them from the rock above.
+
+"One more move like that and the ghost of Sister Anita will walk behind
+you on every trail you follow as long as your flat feet hit the earth,"
+Beverly declared.
+
+"All Indians are afraid of ghosts and I was just too tired to fight any
+more," he said to me afterward when he told me the story of that hour by
+the San Christobal River.
+
+Sister Anita lay with wide-open eyes, her hands moving feebly as she
+clutched at her crucifix. Her hour was almost spent.
+
+Santan stood motionless before her, as Beverly with a grip on his arm
+said, firmly:
+
+"Tell her you did not aim at her, and ask her to forgive you. It will
+help to save your own soul sometime, maybe."
+
+Santan looked at Little Blue Flower. But she gave no heed to him as she
+put the dropped crucifix into the weakening fingers. Murder, as such, is
+as horrifying to the gentle Hopi tribe as it is sport for the cruel
+Apache.
+
+Beverly loosed his hold now.
+
+"I did not want to hurt you. Forgive me!" Santan said, slowly, as though
+each word were plucked from him by red-hot pincers.
+
+Sister Anita heard and turned her eyes.
+
+"Kneel down and tell her again," Beverly said, more gently.
+
+The Apache dropped on his knees beside the dying woman and repeated his
+words. Sister Anita smiled sweetly.
+
+"Heaven will forgive you even as I do," she murmured, and closed her
+eyes.
+
+"Go softly. This is sacred ground," my cousin said.
+
+The Indian rose and passed silently down the trail, leaving Little Blue
+Flower and Beverly Clarenden together with the dead. At the stream he
+paused and pulled his knife from the sands beneath the trickling waters,
+and then went on his way.
+
+But an Indian never forgets.
+
+Rex Krane, who had hurried hither from the chapel, closed the eyes and
+folded the thin hands of the martyred woman, and sent Beverly forward
+for help to dispose of the garment of clay that had been Sister Anita.
+From that day something manly and serious came into Beverly Clarenden's
+face to stay, but his sense of humor and his fearlessness were
+unchanged.
+
+That was a solemn hour in the shadow of the rock down in that yellow
+valley, but beautiful in its forgiving triumph. We who had gathered in
+the dimly lighted chapel had an hour more solemn for that it was made up
+of such dramatic minutes as change the trend of life-trails for all the
+years to come.
+
+The chapel was very old. They tell me that only a broken portion of the
+circular wall about the altar stands there to-day, a lonely monument to
+some holy padre's faith and courage and sacrifice in the forgotten
+years when, in far Hesperia, men dreamed of a Quivera and found only a
+Calvary.
+
+It may be that I, Gail Clarenden, was also changed as I listened to the
+deliberations of that day; that something of youth gave place for the
+stronger manhood that should stay me through the years that came after.
+
+Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come back to
+it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and rough climb
+among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled carelessly on her white
+brow and rippled about her shapely head. I used to wonder what setting
+fitted her beauty best--why wonder that about any beautiful woman?--but
+the gracious loveliness of this woman was never more appealing to me
+than in the soft light and sacred atmosphere of the church.
+
+Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water and
+coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we came in to
+his presence.
+
+"Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a child I
+tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a woman, you must
+still be protected, but you must live your own life and choose for
+yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be crushed by it. You must take
+up your cross and bear it. It is for this that I have called you back to
+New Mexico at this time. But remember, my daughter, that life is not
+given to us for defeat, but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles;
+not for idle cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."
+
+I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years were
+full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had brought him to the
+priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of Father Josef's voice,
+somehow, to me, he stood for success, not failure.
+
+Eloise bowed her head and listened.
+
+"You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own heritage,
+nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has been offered a
+bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies no altars nor extends
+the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ. Your property is your own to
+use for the holy purposes of a goodly life wherever your days may lead
+you; and whatever the civil law may grant of power to control it for
+you, you shall no longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that
+it shall henceforth be yours."
+
+Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to Ferdinand
+Ramero.
+
+"You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this estate,
+whose revenue made your father and yourself to be accounted rich, and
+upon which your son has been allowed to build up a life expectation; and
+though on account of it, you go forth a poor man in wordly goods, you
+may go out rich in the blessing of restoration and repentance."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero's steel eyes were fixed like the eyes of a snake on the
+holy man's face. Restoration and repentance do not belong behind eyes
+like that.
+
+"I can fight you in the courts. You and your Church may go to the
+devil;" he seemed to hiss rather than to speak these words.
+
+"We do go to him every day to bring back souls like yours," Father
+Josef's voice was calm. "I have waited a long time for you to repent.
+You can go to the courts, but you will not do it. For the sake of your
+wife, Gloria Ramero, and Felix Narveo, her brother, we do not move
+against you, and you dare not move for yourself, because your own record
+will not bear the light of legal investigation."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero sprang up, the blaze of passion, uncontrolled through
+all his years, bursting forth in the tragedy of the hour. Eloise was
+right. In his anger he was a maniac.
+
+"You dare to threaten me! You pen me in a corner to stab me to death!
+You hold disgrace and miserable poverty over my head, and cant of
+restoration and repentance! Not until here you name each thing that you
+count against me, and I have met them point by point, will I restore. I
+never will repent!"
+
+In the vehemence of anger, Ramero was the embodiment of the dramatic
+force of unrestraint, and withal he was handsome, with a controlling
+magnetism even in his hour of downfall.
+
+Jondo had said that Father Josef had somewhere back a strain of Indian
+blood in his veins. It must have been this that gave the fiber of self
+control to his countenance as he looked with pitying eyes at Jondo and
+Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"The hour is struck," he said, sadly. "And you shall hear your record,
+point by point, because you ask it now. First: you have retained,
+controlled, misused, and at last embezzled the fortune of Theron St.
+Vrain, as it was retained, controlled, misused, and embezzled by your
+father, Henry Ramer, in his lifetime. Any case in civil courts must show
+how the heritage of Eloise St. Vrain, heir to Theron St. Vrain at the
+death of her mother--"
+
+"Not until the death of her mother--" Ferdinand Ramero broke in,
+hoarsely.
+
+For the first time to-day the priest's cheek paled, but his voice was
+unbroken as he continued:
+
+"I would have been kinder for your own sake. You desire otherwise. Yes,
+only after the death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain could you dictate
+concerning her daughter's affairs, with most questionable legality even
+then. Mary Marchland St. Vrain is not dead."
+
+The chapel was as silent as the grave. My heart stood still. Before me
+was Jondo, big, strong, self-controlled, inured to the tragic deeds of
+the epic years of the West. No pen of mine will ever make the picture of
+Jondo's face at these words of Father Josef.
+
+Eloise turned deathly pale, and her dark eyes opened wide, seeing
+nothing. It was not I who comforted her, but Jondo, who put his strong
+arm about her, and she leaned against his shoulder. Father and daughter
+in spirit, stricken to the heart.
+
+"For many years she has lived in that lonely ranch-house on the Narveo
+grant in the little cañon up the San Christobal Arroyo. When the fever
+left her with memory darkened forever, you recorded her as dead. But
+your wife, Gloria Ramero, spared no pains to make her comfortable. She
+has never known a want, nor lived through one unhappy hour, because she
+has forgotten."
+
+"A priest, confessor for men's inmost souls, who babbles all he knows! I
+wonder that this roof does not fall on you and strike you dead before
+this altar." Ferdinand Ramero's voice rose to a shout.
+
+"It was too strongly built by one who knew men's inmost souls, and what
+they needed most," Father Josef replied. "You drove me to this by your
+insistence. I would have shielded you--and these."
+
+He turned to Eloise and Jondo as he spoke.
+
+"One more point, since you hold it ready to spring when I am through.
+You stand accused of plotting for your father's murder. The evidence
+still holds, and some men who rode with you to-day to seize this gentle
+girl and drag her back to a marriage with your son--and save your
+ill-gotten gold thereby--some of these men who will confess to me and do
+penance to-morrow night, are the same men who long ago confessed to
+other crimes--you can guess what they were.
+
+"It pays well to repent before such a holy tattler as yourself."
+Ramero's blue eyes burned deep as their fire was centered on the priest.
+
+"These are the counts against you," Father Josef said in review,
+ignoring the last outburst of wrath. "A life of ease and inheritance
+through money not your own, nor even rightly yours to control. A
+stricken woman listed with the dead, whose memory might have come
+again--God knows--if but the loving touch of childish hands had long ago
+been on her hands. It is years too late for all that now. A brave young
+ward rescued from your direct control by Esmond Clarenden's force of
+will and daring to do the right. You know that last pleading cry of Mary
+Marchland's, for Jondo to protect her child, and how Clarenden, for love
+of this brave man, came to New Mexico on perilous trails to take the
+little Eloise from you. And lastly in this matter, the threats to force
+a marriage unholy in God's sight, because no love could go with it. Your
+mad chase and villainous intention to use brute force to secure your
+will out yonder on the rocks above the cliff. You have debauched an
+Apache boy, making him your tool and spy. You sanctioned the seizing of
+a Hopi girl whose parents you permitted to be murdered, and their child
+sold into slavery among foreign tribes. You have stirred up and kept
+alive a feud of hatred and revenge among the Kiowa people against the
+life and property of Esmond Clarenden and all who belong to him. And,
+added to all these, you stand to-day a patricide in spirit, accused of
+plotting for the murder of your own father. Do not these things call
+for restoration and repentance?"
+
+Ferdinand Ramero rose to his feet and stood in the aisle near the door.
+His face hardened, and all the suave polish and cool concentration and
+dominant magnetism fell away. What remained was the man as shaped by the
+ruling passions of years, from whose control only divine power could
+bring deliverance. And when he spoke there was a remorseless cruelty and
+selfishness in his low, even tones.
+
+"You have called me a plotter for my father's life--based on some lying
+Mexican's love of blackmail. You do not even try to prove your charge.
+The man who would have killed him was Theron St. Vrain, and his brother,
+Bertrand. That Theron was disgraced by the fact you know very well, and
+the blackness of it drove him to an early grave. So this young lady
+here, whom I would have shielded from this stain upon her name in the
+marriage to my son, may know the truth about her father. He was what
+you, Father Josef, try to prove me to be."
+
+He paused as if to gather venom for his last shaft.
+
+"These two, Theron and Bertrand, were equally guilty, but through tricks
+of their own, Theron escaped and Bertrand took the whole crime on
+himself. He disappeared and paid the penalty by his death. His body was
+recovered from the river and placed in an unmarked grave. Why go back to
+that now? Because Bertrand St. Vrain's clothes alone on some poor
+drowned unknown man were buried. Bertrand himself sits here beside his
+niece, Eloise St. Vrain. John Doe to the world, the man who lives
+without a name, and dares not sign a business document, a walking dead
+man. I could even pity him if he were real. But who can pity nothing?"
+
+A look of defiance came into the man's glittering eyes as he took one
+step nearer to the door and continued:
+
+"Esmond Clarenden drove me out of the United States with threats of
+implicating me in the death of my father, and I knew his power and
+brutal daring to do anything he chose to do. It was but his wish to have
+revenge for this nameless thing--"
+
+The scorn of Ramero's eyes and voice as he looked at Jondo were
+withering.
+
+"And this thing keeps me here by threats of attacks, even when he knows
+that by such attacks he will reveal himself. It has been a grim game."
+Something of a grin showed all of the man's fine teeth. "A grim game,
+and never played to a finish till now. I leave it to you, Father Josef,
+to judge who has been the stronger and who comes out of it victor. I
+make restoration--of what? I leave the St. Vrain money that I have
+guarded for Eloise, the daughter of the man who killed, or helped to
+kill, my father. You can control it now, among you: Clarenden, already
+rich; your Church, notorious in its robbery of the poor by enriching its
+coffers; or this uncle here, who is dead and buried in an unknown grave.
+That is all the restoration I can make. Repentance, I do not know what
+that word means. Keep it for the poor devils you will gather in
+to-morrow night to be shriven. They need it. I do not."
+
+He turned and strode out of the church and, mounting his horse, rode
+like a madman up the yellow valley of the San Christobal. In after years
+I could find no term to so well describe that last act as the words of
+Beverly Clarenden, who came to the chapel just in time to hear Ferdinand
+Ramero's closing declaration, and to see his black scowl and scornful
+air, as, in a royal madness, he defied the power of man and denounced
+the all-pitying love that is big enough for the most sinful.
+
+"It was Paradise lost," Beverly declared, "and Satan falling clear to
+hell before the Archangel's flaming sword. Only he went east and the
+real Satan dropped down to his place. But they will meet up somewhere,
+Ramero and the real one, and not be able to tell each other apart."
+
+And Jondo. My boyhood idol, brave, gentle, unselfish, able everywhere!
+Jondo, who had kept my toddling feet from stumbling, who had taught me
+to ride and swim and shoot, who had made me wise in plains lore, and
+manly and clean among the rough and vulgar things of the Missouri
+frontier. Jondo, whose big, cool hand had touched my feverish face,
+whose deep blue eyes had looked love into my eyes when I lay dying on
+Pawnee Rock! A man without a name! A murderer who had by a trick escaped
+the law, and must walk evermore unknown among his fellow-men! Something
+went out of my life as I looked at him. The boy in me was burned and
+seared away, and only the man-to-be, was left.
+
+He offered no word of defense from the accusation against him, nor made
+a plea of innocence, but sat looking straight at Father Josef, who
+looked at him as if expecting nothing. And as they gazed into each
+other's eyes, a something strong and beautiful swept the face of each. I
+could not understand it, and I was young. My lifetime hero had turned to
+nothingness before my eyes. The world was full of evil. I hated it and
+all that in it was, my trusting, foolish, short-sighted self most of
+all.
+
+But Eloise--the heart of woman is past understanding--Eloise turned to
+the man beside her and, putting both arms around his neck, she pressed
+one fair cheek against his brown bearded one, and kissed him gently on
+the forehead. Then turning to Father Josef, no longer the dependent,
+clinging maiden, but the loving woman, strong and sure of will, she
+said:
+
+"I must go to my mother. So long as she lives I will never leave her
+again."
+
+She did not even look at me, nor speak a word of farewell, as if I were
+the murderer instead of that man, Jondo, whom she had kissed.
+
+I saw her ride away, with Little Blue Flower beside her. I saw the green
+mesa, the red cliffs above the growing things, the glitter of the San
+Christobal water on yellow sands, the level plain where the narrow white
+trail crept far away toward Gloria Narveo's lonely ranch-house, strong
+as a fort built a hundred years ago, in a little cañon of the valley. I
+saw a young, graceful figure on horseback, and the glint of sunlight on
+golden hair. But the rider did not turn her head and I could not get one
+glance of those beautiful dark eyes. A great mass of rock hid the line
+of the trail, and the two, Eloise and Little Blue Flower, rounded the
+angle and rode on out of my sight.
+
+I helped to dig open the curly mesquite and to shovel out the sand. I
+heard the burial service, and saw a rudely coffined form lowered into an
+open grave. I saw Rex Krane at the head, and Jondo at the foot, and
+Beverly's bleeding hands as he scraped the loose earth back and heaped
+it over that which had been called Sister Anita; I heard Father Josef's
+voice of music repeating the "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." And
+then we turned away and left the spot, as men turn every day to the
+common affairs of life.
+
+Four days later Little Blue Flower came to me as I, still numb and cold
+and blankly unthinking, sat beside Fort Marcy and looked out with
+unseeing eyes at the glory of a New-Mexican sunset.
+
+"I come from Eloise." The sadness of her face and voice even the
+Indian's self-control could not conceal.
+
+"She is sad, but brave, and her mother loves her and calls her 'Little
+One.' She will never grow up to her mother. But"--Little Blue Flower's
+voice faltered and she gazed out at the far Sandia peaks wrapped in the
+rich purple folds of twilight, with the scarlet of the afterglow beyond
+them--"Eloise loves Beverly. She will always love him. Heaven meant him
+for her." There were some other broken sentences, but I did not grasp
+them clearly then.
+
+The world was full of gray shadows. The finishing touches had been put
+on life for me. I looked out at the dying glow in the west, and wondered
+vaguely if the sun would ever cross the Gloriettas again, or ever the
+Sangre-de-Christo grow radiant with the scarlet stain of that ineffable
+beauty that uplifts and purifies the soul of him who looks on it.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+    Trust me, it is something to be cast
+    Face to face with one's self at last,
+    To be taken out of the fuss and strife,
+    The endless clatter of plate and knife,
+    The bore of books, and the bores of the street,
+    And to be set down on one's own two feet
+      So nigh to the great warm heart of God,
+    You almost seem to feel it beat
+      Down from the sunshine, and up from the sod.
+
+                         JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
+
+
+My hair is very white now, and my fingers hold a pen more easily than
+they could hold the ox-goad or the rifle, and mine to-day is all the
+backward look. Which look is evermore a satisfying thing because it
+takes in all of life behind in its true proportion, where the forward
+look of youth sees only what comes next and nothing more. And looking
+back to-day it seems that, of the many times I walked the long miles of
+that old Santa Fe Trail, no journey over it stands out quite so
+clear-cut in my memory as the home trip after I had watched the going
+away of Eloise, and witnessed the flight of Ferdinand Ramero, and
+listened to the story of Jondo's life.
+
+When Little Blue Flower left me sitting beside Fort Marcy's wall my
+mind went back in swift review over the flight of days since Beverly
+Clarenden and I had come from Cincinnati. I recalled the first meeting
+of Eloise with my cousin. How easily they had renewed acquaintance. I
+had been surprised and embarrassed and awkward when I found her and
+Little Blue Flower down by the Flat Rock below St. Ann's, in the Moon of
+the Peach Blossom. I remembered how I had monopolized all of her time in
+the days that followed, leaving good-natured Bev to look after the
+little Indian girl who never really seemed like an Indian to him. And
+keen-piercing as an arrow came now the memory of that midnight hour when
+I had seen the two in the little side porch of the Clarenden home, and
+again I heard the sorrowful words:
+
+"Oh, Beverly, it breaks my heart."
+
+Eloise had just seen Beverly kiss Little Blue Flower in the shadows of
+the porch. And all the while, good-hearted, generous boy that he was, he
+had never tried to push his suit with her, had made her love him more,
+no doubt, by letting me have full command of all of her time, while he
+forgot himself in showing courtesy to the Indian girl, because Bev was
+first of all a gentleman. I thought of that dear hour in the church of
+San Miguel. Of course, Eloise was glad to find me there--poor, hunted,
+frightened child! She would have been as glad, no doubt, to have found
+big Bill Banney or Rex Krane, and I had thought her eyes held something
+just for me that night. She had not seen Beverly at the chapel beside
+the San Christobal River, and to me she had not given even a parting
+glance when she went away. If she had cared for me at all she would not
+have left me so. And I had climbed the tortuous trail with her and stood
+beside her in the zone of sanctuary safety that Father Josef had thrown
+about us two.
+
+These things were clear enough to me, but when I tried to think again of
+all that Little Blue Flower had said an hour ago my mind went numb:
+
+"Her mother knew her, but only as the little Eloise long lost and never
+missed till now. The mother, too, was very beautiful, and young in face,
+and child-like in her helplessness. The lonely ranch-house, old, and
+strong as a fort, girt round by tall cañon walls, nestled in a grassy
+open place; and not a comfort had been denied the woman there. For
+Gloria Ramero, Ferdinand's wife, had governed that. And Eloise had
+entered there to stay. This much was clear enough. But that which
+followed seemed to twist and writhe about in my mind with only one thing
+sure--Eloise loved Beverly, would always love him. And he could not love
+any one else. He could be kind to any girl, but he would not be happy.
+Some day when he was older--a real man--then he would long for the girl
+of his heart and his own choice, and he would find her and love her,
+too, and she would love him and those who stood between them they both
+would hate. And Eloise loved Beverly. She could not send Gail any words
+herself, but he would understand."
+
+So came the Indian girl's interpretation of the case, but the conclusion
+was the message meant for me. I wondered vaguely, as I sat there, if the
+vision had come to Beverly years ago as it had come to me: three
+men--the soldier on his cavalry mount, Jondo, the plainsman, on his big
+black horse, and between the two, Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor
+on foot, but going forward somehow, steady and sure. And beyond these
+three, this side of misty mountain peaks, the cloud of golden hair, the
+sweet face, with dark eyes looking into mine. I had not been a dreamer,
+I had been a fool.
+
+Through Beverly I learned the next day that Ferdinand Ramero had come
+into Santa Fé late at night and had left early the next morning. Marcos
+Ramero, faultlessly dressed, lounged about the gambling-halls, and
+strolled through the sunny Plaza, idly and insolently, as was his
+custom. But Gloria Ramero, to whom Marcos long ago ceased to be more
+than coldly courteous, had left the city at once for the San Christobal
+Valley, to devote herself to the care of the beautiful woman whom her
+brother Felix Narveo in his college days had admired so much.
+
+As for Jondo, years ago when we had met Father Josef out by the sandy
+arroyo, he had left us to follow the good man somewhere, and had not
+come back to the Exchange Hotel until nightfall. Something had come into
+his face that day that never left it again. And now that something had
+deepened in the glance of his eye and the firm-set mouth. It was
+through that meeting with Father Josef that he had first heard of the
+supposed death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain, and it was through the
+priest in the chapel he had heard that she was still alive.
+
+Neither Beverly nor Bill Banney nor Rex Krane knew what I had heard in
+the church concerning Jondo's early career, and I never spoke of it to
+them. But to all of us, outside of that intensified something
+indefinable in his face, he was unchanged. He met my eye with the open,
+frank glance with which he met the gaze of all men. His smile was no
+less engaging and his manner remained the same--fearless, unsuspicious,
+definite in serious affairs, good-natured and companionable in
+everything. I could not read him now, by one little line, but back of
+everything lay that withering, grievous thought--he was a murderer.
+Heaven pity the boy when his idol falls, and if he be a dreaming
+idealist the hurt is tenfold deeper.
+
+And yet--the trail was waiting there to teach me many things, and
+Jondo's words rang through the aisles of my brain:
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the open plains
+and the green prairies, and the danger stimulus of the old Santa Fé
+Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard, rebellious
+heart, and make you see things big, and despise the little crooks in
+your path."
+
+Our Conestoga wagons, with their mule-teams, and the few ponies for
+scout service, followed the old trail out of the valley of the Rio
+Grande to the tablelands eastward, up the steep sidling way into the
+passes of the Glorietta Mountains, down through lone, wind-swept cañons,
+and on between wild, scarred hills, coming, at last, beyond the
+picturesque ridges, snow-crowned and mesa-guarded, into the long, gray,
+waterless lands of the Cimmarron country. Here we journeyed along
+monotonous levels that rose and fell unnoted because of lack of
+landmarks to measure by, only the broad, beaten Santa Fé Trail stretched
+on unbending, unchanging, uneffaceable.
+
+As the distance from spring to spring decreased, every drop of water
+grew precious, and we pushed on, eager to reach the richer prairies of
+the Arkansas Valley. Suddenly in the monotony of the way, and the
+increasing calls of thirst, there came a sense of danger, the plains-old
+danger of the Comanche on the Cimarron Trail. Bill Banney caught it
+first--just a faint sign of one hostile track. All the next day Jondo
+scouted far, coming into camp at nightfall with a grave report.
+
+"The water-supply is failing," he told us, "and there is something wrong
+out there. The Comanches are hovering near, that's certain, and there is
+a single trail that doesn't look Comanche to me that I can't account
+for. All we can do is to 'hold fast,'" he added, with his cheery smile
+that never failed him.
+
+That night I could not sleep, and the stars and I stared long at each
+other. They were so golden and so far away. And one, as I looked,
+slipped from its place and trailed wide across the sky until it
+vanished, leaving a stream of golden light that lingered before my eyes.
+I thought of the trail in the San Christobal Valley, and again I saw the
+sunlight on golden hair as Eloise with Little Blue Flower passed out of
+sight around the shoulder of a great rock beside the way. At last came
+sleep, and in my dreams Eloise was beside me as she had been in the
+church of San Miguel, her dark eyes looking up into mine. I knew, in my
+dream, that I was dreaming and I did not want to waken. For, "Eloise
+loved Beverly, would always love him." Little Blue Flower had said it.
+The face was far away, this side of misty mountain peaks, and farther
+still. I could see only the eyes looking at me. I wakened to see only
+the stars looking at me. I slept again deeply and dreamlessly, and
+wakened suddenly. We were far and away from the Apache country, but
+there, for just one instant, a face came close to mine--the face of
+Santan--the Apache. It vanished instantly as it had come. The night
+guard passed by me and crossed the camp. The stars held firm above me. I
+had had another dream. But after that I did not sleep till dawn.
+
+The day was very hot, with the scorching breeze of the plains that sears
+the very eyeballs dry. Through the dust and glare we pressed on over
+long, white, monotonous miles. Hovering near us somewhere were the
+Comanches--waiting; with us was burning thirst; ahead of us ran the
+taunting mirage--cool, sparkling water rippling between green
+banks--receding as we approached, maddening us by the suggestion of its
+refreshing picture, the while we knew it was only a picture. For it is
+Satan's own painting on the desert to let men know that Dante's dream is
+mild compared to the real art of torment. Men and animals began to give
+way under the day's burden, and we moved slowly. In times like these
+Jondo stayed with the train, sending Bill Banney and Beverly scouting
+ahead. That was the longest day that I ever lived on the Santa Fé Trail,
+although I followed its miles many times in the best of its freighting
+years.
+
+The weary hours dragged at last toward evening, and a dozen signs in
+plains lore told us that water must be near. As we topped a low swell at
+the bottom of whose long slide lay the little oasis we were seeking, we
+came upon Bill Banney's pony lying dead across the trail. And near it
+Bill himself, with bloated face and bleared eyes, muttering
+half-coherently:
+
+"Water-hole! Poison! Don't drink!"
+
+And then he babbled of the muddy Missouri, and the Kentucky blue grass,
+and cold mountain springs in the passes of the Gloriettas, warning us
+thickly of "death down there."
+
+"Down there," beside the little spring shelved in by shale at the lower
+edge of the swell, we found a tiny cairn built of clumps of sod and bits
+of shale. Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's note-book with the
+words
+
+     Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very far on.--BILL.
+
+So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach us. But for
+fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning and left it here.
+Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round the place and threshed the
+ground in agony when he tried to mount his poisoned pony, and his first
+thought was for us. The plains made men see big. Jondo had told me they
+could do it. Poor Bill, moaning for water now and tossing in agony in
+Jondo's wagon! The Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we
+hated them as we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!
+
+Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had a
+mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching glance.
+
+"We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope. Come,
+Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow now."
+
+A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch of
+coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided draw
+across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face downward beside a
+dead pony. We scrambled down, shattering the dry earth after us as we
+went. Jondo gently lifted the body and turned it face upward. It was
+Ferdinand Ramero.
+
+The big plainsman did not cry out, nor drop his hold, but his face
+turned gray, and only the dying man saw the look in the blue eyes gazing
+into his. Ramero tried to draw away, fear, and hate, and the old
+dominant will that ruled his life, strong still in death. As he lay at
+the feet of the man whose life hopes he had blasted, he expected no
+mercy and asked for none.
+
+"You have me at last. I didn't put the poison in that spring. I would
+not have drunk it if I had. It was the one below I fixed for you. And
+I'm in your power now. Be quick about it."
+
+For one long minute Jondo looked down at his enemy. Then he lifted his
+eyes to mine with the victory of "him that overcometh" shining in their
+blue depths.
+
+"If I could make you live, I'd do it, Fred. If you have any word to say,
+be quick about it now. Your time is short."
+
+The sweetness of that gentle voice I hear sometimes to-day in the low
+notes of song-birds, and the gentle swish of refreshing summer showers.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero lifted his cold blue eyes and looked at the man bending
+over him.
+
+"Leave me here--forgotten--"
+
+"Not of God. His Mercy endureth forever," Jondo replied.
+
+But there was no repentance, no softening of the hard, imperious heart.
+
+We left him there, pulling down the loose earth from the steep sides of
+the draw to cover him from all the frowning elements of the plains. And
+when we went back to the waiting train Jondo reported, grimly:
+
+"_No enemy in sight."_
+
+We laid Bill Banney beside the poisoned spring, from whose bitter waters
+he had saved our lives. So martyrs filled the unknown graves that made
+the milestones of the way in the days of commerce-building on the old
+Santa Fé Trail.
+
+The next spring was not far ahead, as Bill's note had said, but the
+stars were thick above us and the desolate land was full of shadows
+before we reached it--a thirst-mad, heart-sore crowd trailing slowly on
+through the gloom of the night.
+
+Beverly was waiting for us and the refreshing moisture of the air above
+a spring seemed about him.
+
+"I thought you'd never come. Where's Bill? There's water here. I made
+the spring myself," he shouted, as we came near.
+
+The spring that he had digged for us was in the sandy bed of a dry
+stream, with low, earth-banks on either side. It was full of water,
+hardly clear, but plentiful, and slowly washing out a bigger pool for
+itself as it seeped forth.
+
+"There is poison in the real spring down there." Beverly pointed toward
+the diminished fountain we had expected to find. "I've worked since noon
+at this."
+
+We drank, and life came back to us. We pitched camp, and then listened
+to Beverly's story of the sweet and bitter waters of the trail that day.
+And all the while it seemed as if Bill Banney was just out of sight and
+might come galloping in at any moment.
+
+"You know what happened up the trail," my cousin said, sadly. "Bill was
+ahead of me and he drank first, and galloped back to warn me and beg me
+to come on for water. I thought I could get down here and take some
+water back to Bill in time. It's all shale up there. No place to dig
+above, nor below, even if one dared to dig below that poison. But I
+found a dead coyote that had just left here, and all springs began to
+look Comanche to me. I lariated my pony and crept down under the bank
+there to think and rest. Everything went poison-spotted before my eyes."
+
+"Where's your pony now, Bev?" Jondo asked.
+
+"I don't know sure, but I expect he is about going over the Raton Pass
+by this time," Beverly replied. "Down there things seemed to swim around
+me like water everywhere and I knew I'd got to stir. Just then an Indian
+came slipping up from somewhere to the spring to drink. He didn't look
+right to me at all, but I couldn't sit still and see him kill himself.
+If he needed killing I could have done it for him, for he never saw me.
+Just as he stooped I saw his face. It was that Apache--Santan--the
+wander-foot, for I never heard of an Apache getting so far from the
+mountains. I ought to have kept still, Jondo"--Beverly's ready smile
+came to his face--"but I'd made that fellow swear he'd let me eternally
+alone when we had our little fracas up by the San Christobal Arroyo, so
+something like conscience, mean as the stomach-ache, made me call out:
+
+"'Don't drink there; it's poison.'
+
+"He stopped and stared at me a minute, or ten minutes--I didn't count
+time on him--and then he said, slow-like:
+
+"'It's the spring west that is poisoned. I put it there for you. You
+will not see your men again. They will drink and die. Who put this
+poison here?'
+
+"'Lord knows. I didn't,' I told him. 'Two of you carrying poison are two
+too many for the Cimarron country.'
+
+"And I hadn't any more conscience after that, but I was faint and slow,
+and my aim was bad for eels. He could have fixed me right then, but for
+some reason he didn't."
+
+Beverly's face grew sad.
+
+"He made six jumps six ways, and caught my pony's lariat. I can hear his
+yell still as he tore a hole in the horizon and jumped right through.
+Then I began on that spring. 'Dig or die. Dig or die.' I said over and
+over, and we are all here but Bill. I wish I'd got that Apache, though."
+
+Jondo and I looked at each other.
+
+"The thing is clear now," he said, aside to me. "That single trail I
+found back yonder day before yesterday was Santan's running on ahead of
+us to poison the water for us and then steal a horse and make his way
+back to the mountains. An Apache can live on this cactus-covered sand
+the same as a rattlesnake. He fixed the upper spring and came down here
+to drink. Only Beverly's conscience saved him here. Heaven knows how
+Fred Ramer got out here. He may have come with some Mexicans on ahead of
+us and left them here to drop his poison in this lower spring. Then he
+turned back toward Santa Fé and found his doom up there at Santan's
+spring.
+
+"I'm like Bev. I wish he had gotten the Apache, now. I don't know yet
+how I was fooled in him, for he has always been Fred Ramer's tool, and
+Father Josef never trusted him. And to think that Bill Banney, in no way
+touching any of our lives, should have been martyred by the crimes of
+Fred and this Apache! But that's the old, old story of the trail. Poor
+Bill! I hope his sleep will be sweet out in this desolate land. We'll
+meet him later somewhere."
+
+The winds must have carried the tale of poisoned water across the
+Cimarron country, for the Comanches' trail left ours from that day.
+Through threescore and ten miles to the Arkansas River we came, and
+there was not a well nor spring nor sign of water in all that distance.
+What water we had we carried with us from the Cimarron fountains. But
+the sturdy endurance of the days was not without its help to me. And the
+wide, wind-swept prairies of Kansas taught me many things. In the
+lonely, beautiful land, through long bright days and starlit nights, I
+began to see things bigger than my own selfish measure had reckoned. I
+thought of Esmond Clarenden and his large scheme of business; Felix
+Narveo, the true-hearted friend; and of Father Josef and his life of
+devotion. And I lived with Jondo every day. I could not forget the hour
+in the little ruined chapel in the San Christobal Valley, and how he
+himself had made no effort to clear his own name. But I remembered,
+too, that Father Josef, mercilessly just to Ferdinand Ramero, had not
+even asked Jondo to defend himself from the black charge against him.
+
+The sunny Kansas prairies, the far open plains, and the wild mountain
+trails beyond, had brought their blessing to Jondo, whose life had known
+so much of tragedy. And my cross was just my love for a girl who could
+not love me. That was all. Jondo had never forgotten nor ceased to love
+the mother of Eloise St. Vrain. I should be like Jondo in this. But the
+world is wide. Life is full of big things. Henceforth, while I would not
+forget, I, too, would be big and strong, and maybe, some time, just as
+sunny-faced as my big Jondo.
+
+The trail life, day by day, did bring its blessing to me. The clear,
+open land, the far-sweeping winds, the solitude for thought, the bravery
+and gentleness of the rough men who walked the miles with me, the
+splendor of the day-dawn, the beauty of the sunset, the peace of the
+still starlit night, sealed up my wounds, and I began to live for others
+and to forget myself; to dream less often, and to work more gladly; to
+measure men, not by what had been, but by how they met what was to be
+done.
+
+From all the frontier life, rough-hewn and coarse, the elements came
+that helped to make the big brave West to-day, and I know now that not
+the least of source and growth of power for these came out of the
+strength and strife of the things known only to the men who followed the
+Santa Fé Trail.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+
+
+    The mind hath a thousand eyes,
+      And the heart but one.
+             --BOURDILLON.
+
+
+Busy years, each one a dramatic era all its own, made up the annals of
+the Middle West as the nation began to feel the thrill for expansion in
+its pulse-beat. The territorial days of Kansas were big with the tragic
+events of border warfare, and her birth into statehood marked the
+commencement of the four years of civil strife whose record played a
+mighty part in shaping human destiny.
+
+Meanwhile the sunny Kansas prairies lay waiting for the hearthstone and
+the plow. And young men, trained in camp and battle-field, looked
+westward for adventure, fortune, future homes and fame. But the tribes,
+whose hunting-grounds had been the green and grassy plains, yielded
+slowly, foot by foot, their stubborn claim, marking in human blood the
+price of each acre of the prairie sod. The lonely homesteads were the
+prey of savage bands, and the old Santa Fé Trail, always a way of
+danger, became doubly perilous now to the men who drove the vans of
+commerce along its broad, defenseless miles. The frontier forts
+increased: Hays and Harker, Larned and Zarah, and Lyon and Dodge became
+outposts of power in the wilderness, whose half-forgotten sites to-day
+lie buried under broad pasture-lands and fields of waving grain.
+
+One June day, as the train rolled through the Missouri woodlands along
+rugged river bluffs, Beverly Clarenden and I looked eagerly out of the
+car window, watching for signs of home. It was two years after the close
+of the Civil War. We had just finished six years of Federal service and
+were coming back to Kansas City. We were young men still, with all the
+unsettled spirit that follows the laying aside of active military life
+for the wholesome but uneventful life of peace.
+
+The time of our arrival had been uncertain, and the Clarenden household
+had been taken by surprise at our coming.
+
+"I wonder how it will seem to settle down in a store, Bev, after toting
+shooting-irons for six years," I said to my cousin, as the train neared
+Kansas City.
+
+"I don't know," Beverly replied, with a yawn, "but I'm thinking that
+after we see all the folks, and play with Mat's little boys awhile, and
+eat Aunty Boone's good stuff till we begin to get flabby-cheeked and
+soft-muscled, and our jaws crack from smiling so much when we just
+naturally want to get out and cuss somebody--about that time I'll be
+ready to run away, if I have to turn Dog Indian to do it."
+
+"There's a new Clarenden store at a place called Burlingame out in
+Kansas now, somewhere on the old trail. Maybe it will be far enough away
+to let you get tamed gradually to civil life there, if Uncle Esmond
+thinks you are worth it," I suggested.
+
+"Rex Krane is to take charge of that as soon as we get home. Yonder are
+the spires and minarets and domes of Kansas City. Put on your company
+grin, Gail," Beverly replied, as we began to run by the huts and cabins
+forming the outworks of the little city at the Kaw's mouth.
+
+Six years had made many changes in the place, but the same old welcome
+awaited us, and we became happy-hearted boys again as we climbed the
+steep road up the bluff to the Clarenden house. On the wide veranda
+overlooking the river everybody except one--Bill Banney, sleeping under
+the wind-caressed sod beside the Cimarron spring--was waiting to greet
+us. There were Esmond Clarenden and Jondo, in the prime of middle life,
+the one a little bald, and more than a little stout; the other's heavy
+hair was streaked with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical
+strength told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty
+for the years before him. The prairies had long since become his home;
+but whether in scout service for the Government, or as wagon-master for
+a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same big, brave, loyal
+Jondo.
+
+And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife beside
+him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something Madonna-like
+in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little boys, Esmond, and Rex,
+Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy welcome at us.
+
+In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty Boone.
+She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy days, when I
+considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she looked at us.
+
+"Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once more
+'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get your supper
+right away. Whoo-ee!"
+
+As she turned away, Mat said:
+
+"There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to meet. She
+has just come and doesn't even know that you are expected. It is 'Little
+Lees.'"
+
+A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall, a
+presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with her golden
+hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big dark eyes and
+their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her dainty coloring, and
+beyond all these the beauty of womanly strength written in her
+countenance.
+
+Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a deeper
+shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June roses. She
+stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in an instant the rich
+bloom came back to them again.
+
+"I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
+unannounced," Mat said.
+
+"You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in, as he
+took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at meeting her
+again.
+
+Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always greeted
+him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two when they came
+together. Little Blue Flower was right about them. They seemed to fit
+each other.
+
+But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just one
+glance. I feel it yet, and the soft touch of her hand as it lay in mine
+a moment.
+
+I think we chatted all together for a while. I had a wound at Malvern
+Hill that used to make me dizzy. That, or an older wound, made my pulse
+frantic now. I know that it was a rare June day, and the breeze off the
+river came pouring caressingly over the bluff. I remember later that
+Uncle Esmond and Jondo and Rex Krane went to the Clarenden store, and
+that Mat was helping Aunty Boone inside, while Beverly let the two
+little Kranes take him down the slope to see some baby squirrels or
+something. And Eloise and I were left alone beneath the trees, where
+once we had sat together long ago in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom."
+For me, all the strength of the years wherein I had built a wall around
+my longing love, all my manly loyalty to my cousin's claims, were swept
+away, as I have seen the big Missouri floods, joined by the lesser Kaw,
+sweep out bridges, snapping like sticks before their power.
+
+"Eloise, it seems a hundred years since I saw you and Little Blue Flower
+ride away up the San Christobal River trail out of my sight," I said.
+
+"It has been a long time, but we are not yet old. You seem the same. And
+as for me, I feel as if the clock had stopped awhile and had suddenly
+started to ticking anew."
+
+It was wonderful to sit beside her and hear her voice again. I did not
+dare to ask about her mother, but I am sure she read my thoughts, for
+she went on:
+
+"My mother is gone now. She was as happy as a child and never had a
+sorrow on her mind after her dreadful fever, although the doctors say
+she might have been restored if I had only been with her then. But it is
+all ended now."
+
+Eloise paused with saddened face, and looked out toward the Missouri
+River, boiling with June rains and melted snows.
+
+"It is all right now," she went on, bravely. "Sister Gloria--you know
+who she was--stayed with me to the last. And I have a real mound of
+earth in the cemetery beside my father." The last two words were spoken
+softly. "Sister Gloria is in the convent now. Marcos is a common
+gambler. His father disappeared and left him penniless. Esmond Clarenden
+says that his father died out on the plains somewhere."
+
+"And Father Josef?" I inquired.
+
+"Is still the same strong friend to everybody. He spends much time
+among the Hopi people. I don't know why, for they are hopelessly
+heathen. Their own religion has so many beautiful things to offset our
+faith that they are hard to convert."
+
+"And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a squaw
+in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of St. Ann's did
+for her?"
+
+A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.
+
+"Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in Eloise's
+voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I sometimes think that
+none of them--American, English, Spanish, French, Mexican, nor any
+others of our pale-faced people, have quite such bitter acts as the
+Indian tragedy among a gentle race like the people of Hopi-land."
+
+"I hope you will stay with us now."
+
+I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy, but a
+young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had seen this
+girl ride away from me without one good-by word or glance. I had heard
+her message to me through Little Blue Flower. I had suffered and
+outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch of her hand, one smile, one
+look from her beautiful eyes, and all the barrier of the years fell
+down. I wondered vaguely now about Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if
+things became too monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could
+not think anything.
+
+"I have no present plans. Father Josef and Esmond Clarenden thought it
+would be well for me to come up to Kansas and look at green prairies
+instead of red mesas for a while; to rest my eyes, and get my strength
+again--which I have never lost," Eloise said, with a smile. "And Jondo
+says--"
+
+She did not tell me what Jondo had said, for Beverly and Mat and the two
+rollicking boys joined us just then and we talked of many things of the
+earlier years.
+
+I cannot tell how that June slipped by, nor how Eloise, in the full
+bloom of her young womanhood, with the burdens lifted from her heart and
+hands, was no more the clinging, crushed Eloise who had sat beside me in
+the church of San Miguel, but a self-reliant and deliciously
+companionable girl-woman. With Beverly she was always gay, matching him,
+mood for mood; and if sometimes I caught the fleeting edge of a shadow
+in her eyes, it was gone too soon to measure. I did not seek her company
+alone, because I knew that I could not trust myself. Over and over,
+Jondo's words, when he had told me the story of Mary Marchland, came
+back to me:
+
+"And although they loved each other always, they never saw each other
+again."
+
+Nobody, outside of those touched by it, knew Jondo's story, except
+myself. He was Theron St. Vrain's brother, yet Eloise never called him
+uncle, and, except for the one mention of her father's grave, she did
+not speak of him. He was not even a memory to her. And both men's names
+were forever stained with the black charge against them.
+
+One evening in late June, Uncle Esmond called me into council.
+
+"Gail, Rex leaves to-morrow for the new store at Burlingame, Kansas. It
+is two days out on the Santa Fé Trail. Bev will go with him and stay for
+a while. I want you to drive through with Mat and the children and
+Eloise a day or two later."
+
+"Eloise?" I looked up in surprise.
+
+"Yes; she will visit with Mat for a while. She has had some trying years
+that have taxed her heavily. The best medicine for such is the song of
+the prairie winds," Uncle Esmond replied.
+
+"And after that?" I insisted.
+
+"We will wait for 'after that' till it gets here," my uncle smiled as he
+spoke. "There are more serious things on hand than where out Little Lees
+will eat her meals. She seems able to take care of herself anywhere.
+Wonderfully beautiful and charming young woman she is, and her troubles
+have strengthened her character without robbing her of her youth and
+happy spirits."
+
+Esmond Clarenden spoke reminiscently, and I stared at him in surprise
+until suddenly I remembered that Jondo had said, "We were all in love
+with Mary Marchland." Eloise must seem to him and Jondo like the Mary
+Marchland they had known in their young manhood. But my uncle's mood
+passed quickly, and his face was very grave as he said:
+
+"The conditions out on the frontier are serious in every way right now.
+The Indians are on the war-path, leaving destruction wherever they set
+foot. Something must be done to protect the wagon-trains on the Santa Fé
+Trail. I have already lost part of two valuable loads this season, and
+Narveo has lost three. But the appalling loss of property is nothing
+compared to the terror and torture to human life. The settlers on the
+frontier claims are being massacred daily. The Governor of Kansas is
+doing all he can to get some action from the army leaders at Washington.
+But you haven't been in military service for six years without finding
+out that some army leaders are flesh and blood, and some are only
+wood--plain wooden wood. Meantime, the story of one butchery doesn't get
+to the Missouri River before the story of another catches up with it.
+It's bad enough when it's ruinous to just my own commercial
+business--but in cases like this, humanity is my business."
+
+What a man he was--that Esmond Clarenden! They still say of him in
+Kansas City that no sounder financier and no bigger-hearted humanitarian
+ever walked the streets of that "Gateway to the Southwest" than the
+brave little merchant-plainsman who builded for the generations that
+should follow him.
+
+"What will be the outcome, Uncle Esmond? Are we to lose all we have
+gained out here?" I asked.
+
+"Not if we are real Westerners. It's got to be stopped. The question
+is, how soon," my uncle replied.
+
+That night in a half-waking dream I remembered Aunty Boone's prophetic
+greeting a few days before, and how her eyes had narrowed and grown dull
+as she said, "One more stainin' of your hands 'fore you are through."
+
+I had given six good years to army service--the years which young men
+give to college and to establishing themselves in their life-work. But
+the vision of the three men whom I had seen under the elm-tree at Fort
+Leavenworth came back to me, and only one--the cavalry man--moved
+westward now. I knew that I was dreaming, but I did not want to waken
+till the vision of a fair face whose eyes looked into mine should come
+to make my dream sweet and restful.
+
+But in my waking hours, in spite of the gravity of conditions that
+troubled Esmond Clarenden, in spite of the terrible tidings of daily
+killings on the unprotected plains, I forgot everything except the girl
+beside me as I went with her and Mat and the children to the new home in
+the village of Burlingame beside the Santa Fé Trail.
+
+Eloise St. Vrain had come up to Kansas to let the green prairies shut
+out the memory of tall red mesas. About the little town of Burlingame
+the prairies were waiting for her eyes to see. It nestled beside a deep
+creek under the shelter of forest trees, with the green prairie lapping
+up to its edges on every side. The trail wound round the shoulder of a
+low hill, and, crossing the stream, it made the main street of the
+town, then wandered on westward to where a rim of ground shut the view
+of its way from the settlement under the trees by the creek. A stanch
+little settlement it was, and, like many Kansas towns of the '60's, with
+big, but never-to-be realized, ambition to become a city. Into its life
+and up-building Rex Krane was to throw his good-natured Yankee
+shrewdness, and Mat her calm, generous spirit; vanguards they were,
+among the home-makers of a great State.
+
+My stay in the place was brief, and I saw little of Eloise until the
+evening before I was to return to Kansas City. I had meant to go away,
+as she had left me in the San Christobal Valley, without one backward
+look, but I couldn't do it; and at the close of my last day I went to
+the Krane home, where I found her alone. It was the long after-sunset
+hour, with the refreshing evening breezes pouring in from all the green
+levels about us.
+
+"Rex is at the store, and the others are all gone fishing," Eloise said,
+in answer to my inquiry for the family.
+
+"Mat and Bev always did go fishing on every occasion that I can
+remember, and they will make fishermen of little Esmond and Rex now.
+Would you like to go up to the west side of town and look into New
+Mexico?" I asked, wondering why Beverly should go fishing with Mat when
+Eloise was waiting for his smile.
+
+But I was desperately lonely to-night, and I might not see Eloise again
+until after she and Beverly--I could not go farther. She smiled and
+said, lightly:
+
+"I'm just honin' for a walk, as Aunty Boone would say, but I'm not quite
+ready to see New Mexico yet."
+
+"Oh, it's only a thing made of evening mists rising from the meadows,
+and bits of sunset lights left over when the day was finished," I
+assured her.
+
+So we left the shadow of the tall elms and strolled up the main street
+toward the west.
+
+Where the one cross-street cut the trail in the center of the village
+there was a public well. The ground around it was trampled into mud by
+many hoofs. A Mexican train had just come in and was grouped about this
+well, drinking eagerly.
+
+"What news of the plains?" I asked their leader as we passed.
+
+"I cannot tell you with the lady here," he replied, bowing courteously.
+"It is too awful. A spear hung with a scalp of pretty baby hair like
+hers. I see it yet. The plains are all _alive--alive_ with hostile red
+men; and the worst one of all--he that had the golden scalp--is but a
+half-breed Cheyenne Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he."
+
+The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and
+struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then passed
+up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward route.
+
+The mists were rising from the lowlands; along the creek the sunset sky
+was all a flaming glory, under whose deep splendor the June prairies lay
+tenderly green and still; down in the village the sounds of the Mexicans
+settling into camp; the shouting of children, romping late; and out
+across the levels, the mooing call of milking-time from some far-away
+settler's barn-yard; a robin singing a twilight song in the elms;
+crickets chirping in the long grass; and the gentle evening breeze sweet
+and cool out of the west--such was the setting for us two. We paused on
+the crest of the ridge and sat down to watch the afterglow of a prairie
+twilight. We did not speak for a long time, but when our eyes met I knew
+the hour had been made for me. In such an hour we had sat beside the
+glistening Flat Rock down in the Neosho Valley. I was a whole-hearted
+boy when I went down there, full of eagerness for the life of adventure
+on the trail, and she a girl just leaving boarding-school. And now--life
+sweetens so with years.
+
+"I think I can understand why your uncle thought it would be well for me
+to come to Kansas," Eloise said at last. "There is an inspiration and
+soothing restfulness in a thing like this. Our mountains are so huge and
+tragical; and even their silences are not always gentle. And our plains
+are dry and gray. And yet I love the valley of the Santa Fé, and the old
+Ortiz and Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the
+Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them for
+help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang his psalms of
+hope and victory."
+
+"Yes, Nature is kind to us if we will let her be. Jondo told me that
+long ago, and I've proved it since. But I have always loved the
+prairies. And this ridge here belongs to me," I replied.
+
+Eloise looked up inquiringly.
+
+"I'll tell you why. When I was a little boy, years ago, a day-dreaming,
+eager-hearted little boy, we camped here one night. That was my first
+trip over the trail to Santa Fé. You haven't forgotten it and what a big
+brown bob-cat I looked like when I got there. I grew like weeds in a
+Kansas corn-field on that trip."
+
+"Oh, I remember you. Go on," Eloise said, laughingly.
+
+"That night after supper, everybody had left camp--Mat and Bev were
+fishing--and I was alone and lonely, so I came up here to find what I
+could see of the next day's trail. It was such an hour as this. And as I
+watched the twilight color deepen, my own horizon widened, and I think
+the soul of a man began, in that hour, to look out through the little
+boy's eyes; and a new mile-stone was set here to make a landmark in my
+life-trail. The boy who went back slowly to the camp that night was not
+the same little boy that had run up here to spy out the way of the next
+day's journey."
+
+The afterglow was deepening to purple; the pink cloud-flecks were
+turning gray in the east, and a kaleidoscope of softest rose and tender
+green and misty lavender filled the lengthening shadows of the twilight
+prairie.
+
+"Eloise, I had a longing that night, still unfulfilled. I wish I dared
+to tell you what it was."
+
+I turned to look at the fair girl-woman beside me. In the twilight her
+eyes were always like stars; and the golden hair and the pink bloom of
+her cheeks seemed richer in their shadowy setting. To-night her gown was
+white--like the Greek dress she had worn at Mat's wedding, on the night
+when she met Beverly in the little side porch at midnight. Why did I
+recall that here?
+
+"What was your wish, Gail?" The voice was low and sweet.
+
+I took her hand in mine and she did not draw away from me.
+
+"That I might some day have a real home all my own down there among the
+trees. I was a little homesick boy that night, and I came up here to
+watch the sunset and see the open level lands that I have always loved.
+Eloise, Jondo told me once of three young college men who loved your
+beautiful mother, and because of that love they never married anybody,
+but they lived useful, happy lives. I can understand now why they should
+love her, and why, because they could not have her love, they would not
+marry anybody else. One was my uncle Esmond, and one was Father Josef."
+
+"And the third?" The voice was very low and a tremor shook the hand I
+held.
+
+"He did not tell me. And I speak of it now only to show you that in what
+I want to say I am not altogether selfish and unkind. I love you,
+Eloise. I have loved you since the day, long ago, when your face came
+before me on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I told you of that
+once down on the bluff by the Clarenden home at Kansas City. I shall
+love you, as the Bedouin melody runs,
+
+    Til the sun grows cold,
+    And the stars are old,
+    And the leaves of the judgment
+            Book unfold!
+
+"But I know that it will end as Uncle Esmond's and Father Josef's loving
+did, in my living my life alone."
+
+Eloise quickly withdrew her hand, and the pain in her white face haunts
+me still.
+
+"I do not want to hurt you, oh, Eloise. I know I do wrong to speak, but
+to-night will be the last time. I thought that night in the church at
+San Miguel, and that next day when we rode for our lives together, that
+you cared for me who would have walked through fire for you. But in that
+hour in the little chapel a barrier came between us. You rode away
+without one word or glance. And I turned back feeling that my soul was
+falling into ruins like that half-ruined little pile of stone that some
+holy padre had built his heart into years and years ago. Then Little
+Blue Flower brought your message to me and I knew as I sat beside Fort
+Marcy's wall that night, and saw the sun go down, that the light of my
+life was going out with it."
+
+"But, Gail," Eloise exclaimed, "I said I could not send you any word,
+but you would understand. I--I couldn't say any more than that." Her
+voice was full of tears and she turned away from me and looked at the
+last radiant tints edging the little cloud-flecks above the horizon.
+
+"Of course I understand you, Eloise, and I do not blame you. I never
+could blame you for anything." I sprang to my feet. "You'll hate me if I
+say another word," I said, savagely.
+
+She rose up, too, and put her hand on my arm. Oh, she was beautiful as
+she stood beside me. So many times I have pictured her face, I will not
+try to picture it as it looked now in this sweet, sacred moment of our
+lives.
+
+"Gail, I could never hate you. You do not understand me. I cannot help
+what is past now. I hoped you might forget. And yet--" She paused.
+
+All men are humanly alike. In spite of my strong love for Beverly and my
+sense of right, the presence of the woman whose image for so many years
+had been in the sacredest shrine of my heart, Eloise, in all her beauty
+and her womanly strength and purity, standing beside me, her hand still
+on my arm--all overpowered me.
+
+I put my arms about her and held her close to me, kissing her forehead,
+her cheek, her lips. The world for one long moment was rose-hued like
+the sunset's afterglow; and sky and prairie, lowlands along the winding
+creek, and tall elm-trees above the deepening shadows, were all engulfed
+in a mist of golden glory, shot through with amethyst and sapphire, the
+dainty coraline pink of summer dawns, and the iridescent shimmer of
+mother-of-pearl.
+
+Heaven opens to us here and there such moments on the way of life. And
+the memory of them lingers like perfume through all the days that
+follow.
+
+We turned our faces toward the darkening village street and the tall
+elms above the gathering shadows, and neither spoke a word until we
+reached the door where I must say good night.
+
+"I cannot ask you to forgive me, Little Lees, because you let me have a
+bit of heaven up there. I shall go away a better man. And, remember,
+that no blessing in your life can be greater than I would wish for you
+to have."
+
+The brave white face was before my eyes and the low voice was in my ears
+long after I had left her door.
+
+"Gail, I cannot help what has been, but I do not blame you. I should
+almost wish myself shut in again by the tall red mesas; but maybe, after
+all, the prairies are best for me. I am glad I have known you. Good
+night."
+
+"Goodnight," I said, and turned away.
+
+And that was all. The last light of day had gone from the sky, and the
+stars overhead were hidden by the thick leafage of the Burlingame elms.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+A MAN'S PART
+
+
+  Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us through
+     the years;
+  Heaven and hell rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;
+  Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove with
+     a gray,
+  To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic day?
+
+   --ROBERT W. SERVICE.
+
+
+However darkly the sun may go down on hope and love, the real sun shines
+on, day after day, with its inexorable call to duty. In less than a week
+after I had left Eloise and the vague hope of a home of my own under the
+big elm-trees of Burlingame, Governor Crawford of Kansas sent forth a
+call for a battalion of four companies of soldiers, and I heard the call
+and answered it.
+
+It was to be known as the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry, with Col. Horace L.
+Moore, a veteran soldier of tried mettle, at the head. We were to go at
+once to Fort Harker, in the valley of the Smoky Hill River, to begin a
+campaign against the Indians, who were laying waste the frontier
+settlements and attacking wagon-trains on the Sante Fé Trail.
+
+On the evening before I left home I sat on the veranda of the Clarenden
+house, waiting for Uncle Esmond to join me, when suddenly Beverly
+Clarenden strode over the edge of the hill. The sunny smile and the
+merry twinkle of his eye were Bev's own, and there wasn't a line on his
+face to show whether it belonged to the happy lover or the rejected
+suitor. I thought I could always read his moods when he had any. He had
+none to-night.
+
+"I just got in from Burlingame. At what hour do you leave to-morrow? I'm
+going along to chaperon you, as usual," he declared.
+
+"Why, Beverly Clarenden, I thought you were fixed at Burlingame, selling
+molasses and calico by the gallon," I exclaimed, but my real thought was
+not given to words.
+
+"And let the Cheyennes, and Kiowas, and Arapahoes, and other desperadoes
+of the plains gnaw clear into the heart of us? Not your uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's nephew. And, Gail, this won't be anything like we have had
+since those six Kiowas staked you out on Pawnee Rock once. The
+thoroughbred Indians are bad enough, but there is a half-breed leader of
+a band of Dog Indians that's worst of all. He's of the yellow kind, with
+wolf's fangs. A Mexican on the trail told me that this half-breed ties
+up with the worst of every tribe from the Coast Range mountains to
+Tecumseh, Kansas," Beverly declared.
+
+"I remember that Mexican. I saw him at the well in Burlingame," I
+replied, turning to look at the Kaw winding far away, for the memory of
+everything in Burlingame was painful to me.
+
+Aunty Boone's huge form appearing around the corner of the house shut
+off my view of the river just then. Her face was glistening, but her
+eyes were dull as she looked us over.
+
+"You stainin' your hands again," she purred. "Yes, Aunty. We are going
+to lick the redskins into ribbons," Beverly replied.
+
+"You never get that done. Lickin' never settles nobody. You just hold
+'em down till they strong enough to boost you off their heads again, and
+up they come. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The black woman gave a chuckle.
+
+"Well, I'd rather sit on their heads than have them sitting on mine, or
+yours, Aunty Boone," Beverly returned, laughingly.
+
+Aunty Boone's eyes narrowed and there was a strange light in them as she
+looked at us, saying:
+
+"You get into trouble, Mr. Bev, you see me comin', hot streaks, to help
+you out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She breathed her weird, African whoop and turned away.
+
+"I'll depend on you." Beverly's face was bright, and there was no shadow
+in his eyes, as he called after her retreating form.
+
+We chatted long together, and I hoped--and feared--to have him tell me
+the story of his suit with Eloise, and why in such a day, of all the
+days of his life, he should choose to run away to the warfare of the
+frontier. He could not have failed, I thought. Never a disappointed
+lover wore a smile like this. But Beverly had no story to tell me that
+night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The mid-July sun was shining down on a treeless landscape, across which
+the yellow, foam-flecked Smoky Hill River wound its sinuous way. Beside
+this stream was old Fort Harker, a low quadrangle of quarters, for
+military man and beast, grouped about a parade-ground for companionship
+rather than for protection. The frontier fort had little need for
+defensive strength. About its walls the Indian crawled submissively,
+fearful of munitions and authority. It was not here, but out on lonely
+trails, in sudden ambush, or in overwhelming numbers, or where long
+miles, cut off from water, or exhausting distance banished safe retreat,
+that the savage struck in all his fury.
+
+Eastward from Harker the scattered frontier homesteads crouched,
+defenseless, in the river valleys. Far to the northwest spread the
+desolate lengths of a silent land where the white man's foot had hardly
+yet been set. Miles away to the southwest the Santa Fé Trail wound among
+the Arkansas sand-hills, never, in all its history, less safe for
+freighters than in that summer of 1867.
+
+In this vast demesne the raiding Cheyenne, the cruel Kiowa, the
+blood-thirsty Arapahoe, with bands of Dog Indians and outlaws from every
+tribe, contested, foot by foot, for supremacy against the out-reaching
+civilization of the dominant Anglo-American. The lonely trails were
+measured off by white men's graves. The vagrant winds that bear the odor
+of alfalfa, and of orchard bloom to-day, were laden often with the smoke
+of burning homes, and often, too, they bore that sickening smell of
+human flesh, once caught, never to be forgotten. The story of that
+struggle for supremacy is a tragic drama of heroism and endurance. In it
+the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry played a stirring part.
+
+It seems but yesterday to me now, that July day so many years ago, when
+our four companies, numbering fewer than four hundred men, detrained
+from the Union Pacific train at Fort Harker on the Smoky Hill. And the
+faces of the men who were to lead us are clear in memory. Our commander,
+Colonel Moore, always brave and able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay,
+and Edgar Barker, and George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd,
+courageous scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking,
+young lieutenant, Frank Stahl. Ours was not to be a record of unfading
+glory, as national military annals show, yet it may count mightily when
+the Great Records are opened for final estimates. Those men who marched
+two thousand miles, back and forth, upon the trackless plains in that
+four months' campaign, have been forgotten in the debris of uneventful
+years. Our long-faded trails lie buried under wide alfalfa-fields and
+the paved streets of western Kansas towns. From the far springs that
+quenched our burning thirst comes water, trickling through a nickel
+faucet into a marble basin, now. Where the fierce sun seared our
+eyeballs, in a treeless, barren waste, green groves, atune with
+song-birds, cast long swaths of shade on verdant sod. The perils and the
+hardships of the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry are now but as a tale that is
+told.
+
+And yet of all the heroes whose life-trails cut my own, I account among
+the greatest those men under whose command, and with whose comradeship,
+I went out to serve the needs of my generation among the vanguards of
+the plains. And if in a sunset hour on the west ridge beyond the little
+town of Burlingame I had left a hopeless love behind me, I put a man's
+best energy into the thing before me.
+
+The battle-field alone is not the soldier's greatest test. I had kept
+step with men who charge an enemy on an open plain or storm a high
+defense in the face of sure defeat. I had been ordered with my company
+to take redoubts against the flaming throats of bellowing cannon in the
+life-and-death grip before Richmond. I had felt the awful thrill of
+carnage as my division surged back and forth across the blood-soaked
+lengths of Gettysburg, and I never once fell behind my comrades. The
+battle-field breeds courage, and self-forgetfulness, and exaltation,
+from the sense of duty squarely met.
+
+There were no battle-fields in 1867, where Greek met Greek in splendid
+gallantry, out on the Kansas plains. Over Fort Harker hung the pall of
+death, and in the July heat the great black plague of Asiatic cholera
+stalked abroad and scourged the land. Men were dying like rats, lacking
+everything that helps to drive death back. The volunteer who had offered
+himself to save the settlers from the scalping-knife had come here only
+to look into an open grave, and then, in agony, to drop into it. Such
+things test soldiers more than battle-fields. And our men turned back in
+fear, preferring the deserter's shame to quick, inglorious martyrdom by
+Asiatic cholera. I had a battle of my own the first night at Fort
+Harker. There was a growing moon and the night breeze was cool after the
+heat of the day. Beverly Clarenden and I went down to the river, whose
+tawny waters hardly hid the tawny sands beneath them. The plains were
+silent, but from all the hospital tents about the fort came the sharp,
+agonized cries of pain that forerun the last collapse of the
+plague-stricken sufferers. To get away from the sound of it all we
+wandered down the stream to where the banks of soft, caving earth on the
+farther side were higher than a man's head, and their shadow hid the
+current. We sat down and stared silently at the waters, scarcely
+whispering as they rolled along, and at the still shade of the farther
+bank upon them. The shadows thickened and moved a little, then grew
+still. We also grew still. Then they moved again just opposite us, and
+fell into three parts, as three men glided silently along under the
+bank's protecting gloom. We waited until they had reached the edge of
+the moonlight, and saw three soldiers pass swiftly out across the
+unprotected sands to other shadowy places further on.
+
+"Deserters!" Beverly said, half aloud. "You can stay here if you want
+to, Gail. I'd rather go up and listen to those poor wretches groan than
+stick down here and listen to the fiend inside of me to-night."
+
+He rose and stalked away, and I sat listening to myself. I could join
+those three men easily enough. The world is wide. I had no bond to hold
+me to one single place in it. I was young and strong, and life is sweet.
+Why let the black plague snuff me out of it? I had come here to serve
+the State. I should not serve it in a plague-marked grave. I rose to
+follow down the stream, to go to where the Smoky Hill joins the big
+Republican to make the Kaw, and on to where the Kaw reaches to the
+Missouri. But I would not stop there. I'd go until I reached the ocean
+somewhere.
+
+Would I?
+
+The memory of Jondo's eyes when they looked into mine on Pawnee Rock
+came unbidden across my mind. Jondo had lived a nameless man. How strong
+and helpful all his years had been! How starved had been my life without
+his love! I would be another Jondo, somewhere on earth.
+
+I stared after three faintly moving shadows down the stream. 'Twas well
+I waited, for Esmond Clarenden came to me now, clean-cut, honest,
+everybody's friend. How firm his life had been; and he had built into me
+a hatred of deceit and lies. And Jondo was another Uncle Esmond. In
+spite of the black shadow on his name, he walked the prairies like a
+prince always. I could not be like him if I were a deserter. Up-stream
+death was waiting for me; down-stream, disgrace. I turned and followed
+up the river's course, but the strength that forced me to it was greater
+than that which made me brave on battle-fields. And ever since that
+night beside the Smoky Hill I have felt gentler toward the man who
+falls.
+
+We were not idle long for Fort Harker had just been informed of an
+assault on a wagon-train on the Santa Fé Trail and our cavalry squadron
+hurried away at once to overtake and punish the assailants.
+
+We came into camp on the bank of Walnut Creek, at the close of a long
+summer day of blazing light and heat over the barren trails where there
+was no water; a day of long hours in the saddle; a day of nerve-wearing
+watchfulness. But we believed that we had left the plague-cursed region
+behind us, so we were light-hearted and good-natured; and we ate, and
+drank, and took our lot cheerfully.
+
+Among the men at mess that night I saw a new face which was nothing
+remarkable, except that something in it told me that I had already seen
+that face somewhere, some time. It is my gift never to forget a face,
+once seen, no matter how many years may pass before I see it twice. This
+soldier was a pleasant fellow, too, and, in a story he was telling,
+clever at imitating others.
+
+"Who is that man, Bev? The third one over there?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"Stranger to me. I don't believe I ever saw him before. Who is the
+fellow with the smile, Captain?" Beverly asked the officer beside him.
+
+"I don't know. He's not in my company. I'm finding new faces every day,"
+the captain replied.
+
+As twilight fell I saw the man again at the edge of the camp. He smiled
+pleasantly as he passed me, turning to look at Beverly, who did not see
+him, and in a minute he was cantering down to the creek beside our camp.
+I saw him cross it and ride quickly out of sight. But that smile brought
+to the face the thing that had escaped me.
+
+"I know that fellow now," I said to Beverly and the officer who came up
+just then. "He's Charlie Bent, the son of Colonel Bent. Don't you
+remember the little sinner at old Fort Bent, Bev?"
+
+"I do, and what a vicious little reptile he was," Beverly replied. "But
+Uncle Esmond told me that his father took him away early and had him
+schooled like a gentleman in the best Saint Louis had to give. I wonder
+whose company he is in."
+
+The officer stared at us.
+
+"You mean to say you know that cavalryman to be Charlie Bent?" he fairly
+gasped.
+
+"Of course it's Charlie. I never missed a face in all my life. That's
+his own," I replied.
+
+"The worst Indian on the plains!" the captain declared. "He stirs up
+more fiendishness than a whole regiment of thoroughbred Cheyennes could
+ever think of. He's led in every killing here since March."
+
+"Not Colonel Bent's son!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, he's the half-breed devil that we'll have to fight, and here he
+comes and eats with us and rides away."
+
+"He must be the fellow that the Mexican told us about back at
+Burlingame, Gail. I remember now he did say the brute's name was Bent,
+but I didn't rope him up with our Fort Bent chum. Gail would have run
+him down in half a minute if he had heard the name. I never could
+remember anything," Beverly said, in disgust. But the smile was peeping
+back of his frown, and he forgot the boy he was soon to have cause
+enough to remember.
+
+"We must run that rascal down to-night," the Captain declared, as he
+hurried away to consult with the other officers.
+
+But Charlie Bent was not run down that night. Before we had time to get
+over our surprise a scream of pain rang through the camp. Another
+followed, and another, and when an hour had passed a third of our forces
+was writhing in the clutches of the cholera.
+
+I shall never forget the long hours of that night beside the Walnut, nor
+Beverly Clarenden's face as he bent over the suffering men. For all of
+us who were well worked mightily to save our plague-stricken comrades,
+whose couches were of prairie grass and whose hospital roof was the
+starlit sky. However forgetful Beverly might be of names and faces, his
+strong hand had that soothing firmness that eased the agony of cramping
+limbs. Dear Bev! He comforted the sick, and caught the dying words, and
+straightened the relaxed bodies of the dead, and smiled next day, and
+forgot that he had done it.
+
+At last the night of horror passed, and day came, wan and hot and weary
+out of the east. But five of our comrades would see no earthly day
+again; and three dozen strong men of the day before lay stretched upon
+the ground, pulseless and shrunken and purple, with wrinkled skin and
+wide, unseeing eyes.
+
+Before the sun had risen our dead, coffined only by their army blankets,
+lay in unmarked graves. Our helpless living were placed in commissary
+wagons, and we took the trail slowly and painfully toward the Arkansas
+River.
+
+If Charley Bent had gathered up his band to strike that night there
+would have been a different chapter in the annals of the plains.
+
+I cannot follow with my pen the long marches of that campaign, and there
+was no honorable nor glorious warfare in it. It is a story of
+skirmishes, not of battles; of attack and repulse; of ambush and pursuit
+and retreat. It is a story of long days under burning skies, by whose
+fierce glare our brains seemed shriveling up and the world went black
+before our heat-bleared eyes. A story of hard night-rides, when weary
+bodies fought with watchful minds the grim struggle that drowsiness can
+wage, though sleep, we knew, meant death. It is a story of fevered
+limbs and bursting pulse in hospitals whose walls were prairie
+distances. A story of hunger, and exhausted rations; of choking thirst,
+with only alkali water mocking at us. And never could the story all be
+told. There is no rest for cavalrymen in the field. We did not suffer
+heavy loss, but here and there our comrades fell, by ones, and twos, at
+duty's post; and where they fell they lie, in wayside graves, waiting
+for glorious mention until the last reveille shall sound above the
+battlements of heaven.
+
+And I was one among these vanguards of the plains, making the old Santa
+Fé Trail safe for the feet of trade; and the wide Kansas prairies safe
+for homes, and happiness, and hope, and power. I lived the life, and
+toughened in its grind. But in my dreams sometimes my other life
+returned to me, and a sweet face, with a cloud of golden hair, and dark
+eyes looking into mine, came like a benediction to me. Another face came
+sometimes now--black, big, and glistening, with eyes of strange, far
+vision looking at me, and I heard, over and over, the words of Esmond
+Clarenden's cook:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I'll come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+But trouble never stuck to "Mr. Bev," because he failed to know it when
+it came.
+
+Mid-August found us at Fort Hays on the Smoky Hill, beyond whose
+protecting guns the wilderness ruled. A wilderness checkered by faint
+trails of lawless feet, a wilderness set with bloody claws and poison
+stings and cruel fangs, and slow, agonizing death. And with all a
+wilderness of weird, fascinating distances and danger, charm and beauty.
+The thrill of the explorer of new lands possessed us as we looked far
+into the heart of it. Here in these August days the Cheyenne and
+Arapahoe and Kiowa bands were riding trails blood-stained by victims
+dragged from lonely homesteads, and butchered, here and there, to make
+an Indian holiday. The scenes along the valleys of the Sappa and the
+Beaver and the Prairie Dog creeks were far too brutal and revolting to
+belong to modern life. Against these our Eighteenth Kansas, with a small
+body of United States cavalry, struck northward from Fort Hays. We
+rested through the long, hot days and marched by night. The moon was
+growing toward the full, and in its clear, white splendor the prairies
+lay revealed for miles about us. Our command was small and meagerly
+equipped, and we were moving on to meet a foe of overwhelming numbers.
+Men took strange odds with Fate upon the plains.
+
+Beyond the open, level lands lay a rugged region hemming in the valley
+of the Prairie Dog Creek. Here picturesque cliffs and deep, earth-walled
+cañons split the hills, affording easy ambush for a regiment of red men.
+And here, in a triangle of a few miles area, a new Thermopylae, with no
+Leonidas but Kansas plainsmen, was staged through two long August days
+and nights. One hundred and fifty of us against fifteen hundred
+fighting braves.
+
+In the early morning of a long, hot August day, we came to an open plain
+beyond the Prairie Dog Creek. Our supply-wagons and pack-mules were
+separated from us somewhere among the bluffs. We had had no food since
+the night before, and our canteens were empty--all on account of the
+blundering mismanagement of the United States officer who cammanded
+us. I was only a private, and a private's business is not to
+question, but to obey. And that major over us, cashiered for cowardice
+later, was not a Kansas man. Thank heaven for that!
+
+A score of us, including my cousin and myself, under a sergeant, and
+with good Scout Pliley, were suddenly ordered back among the hills.
+
+"Where do we go, and why?" Beverly asked me as we rode along.
+
+"I don't know," I replied. "But Captain Jenness and a file of men were
+lost out here somewhere last night. And Indian tracks step over one
+another all around here. I guess we are out to find what's lost, maybe.
+It isn't a twenty minutes' job, I know that."
+
+"And all our canteens empty, too! Why cut off all visible means of
+support in a time like this? Look at these bluffs and hiding-places,
+will you! A handful of Indians could scoop our whole body up and pitch
+us into the Prairie Dog Creek, and not be missed from a set in a
+war-dance," Beverly insisted. "Keep it strictly in the Clarenden family,
+Gail, but our honorable commander is a fool and a coward, if he is a
+United States major."
+
+"You speak as one expecting a promotion, Bev," I suggested.
+
+"I'd know how to use it if I got it," he smiled brightly at me as we
+quickened our pace not to fall behind.
+
+Every day of that campaign Beverly grew dearer to me. I am glad our
+lives ran on together for so many years.
+
+The cañons deepened and the whole region was bewildering, but still we
+struggled on, lost men searching for lost men. The sun blazed hotly, and
+the soft yellow bluffs of bone-dry earth reached down to the dry beds of
+one-time streams.
+
+High noon, and still no food, no water, and no lost men discovered. We
+had pushed out to a little opening, ridged in on either side by high,
+brown bluffs, when a whoop came from the head of the line.
+
+"Yonder they are! Yonder they are!"
+
+Half a dozen men, led by Captain Jenness, were riding swiftly to join us
+and we shouted in our joy. For some among us that was the last joyous
+shout. At that moment a yell from savage throats filled the air, and the
+thunder of hoofs shook the ground. Over the west ridge, half a mile
+away, five hundred Indians came swooping like a hurricane down upon us.
+And we numbered, altogether, twenty-nine. I can see that charge to-day:
+the blinding, yellow sky, the ridge melting into a cloud of tawny dust,
+the surge of ponies with their riders bending low above them; fronting
+them, our little group of cavalrymen formed into a hollow square, on
+foot, about our mounts; the Indians riding, in a wide circle around us,
+with blankets flapping, and streamer-decked lances waving high. And as I
+see, I hear again that wild, unearthly shriek and taunting yell and
+fiendish laughter. From every point the riflle-balls poured in
+upon us, while out of buffalo wallow and from behind each prairie-dog
+hillock a surge of arrows from unmounted Indians swept up against us. I
+had been on battle-fields before, but this was a circle out of hell set
+'round us there. And every man of of knew, as we sent back ball for
+ball, what capture here would mean for us before the merciful hand of
+death would seal our eyes.
+
+Suddenly, as we moved forward, the frantic circle halted and a hundred
+braves came dashing in a fierce charge upon us. Their leader, mounted on
+a great, white horse, rode daringly ahead, calling his men to follow
+him, and taunting us with cowardice. He spoke good English, and his
+voice rang clear and strong above the din of that strange struggle.
+Straight on he came, without once looking back, a revolver in each hand,
+firing as he rode. A volley from our carbines made his fellows stagger,
+then waver, break, and run. Not so the rider of the splendid white
+horse, who dared us to strike him down as he dashed full at us.
+
+"Come on, you coward Clarenden boys, and I'll fight you both. I've
+waited all these years to do it. I dare you. Oh, I dare you!"
+
+It was Charlie Bent.
+
+Nine balls from Clarenden carbines flew at him. Beverly and I were
+listed among the cleverest shots in Kansas, but not one ball brought
+harm to the daring outlaw. A score of bullets sung about his insolent
+face, but his seemed a charmed life. Right on he forged, over our men,
+and through the square to the Indian's circle on the other side, his
+mocking laughter ringing as he rode. A bloody scalp hung from his spear,
+and, turning 'round just out of range of our fire, shaking his trophy
+high, he shouted back:
+
+"We got all of the balance of your men. We'll get you yet."
+
+The sun glared fiercely on the bare, brown earth. A burning thirst began
+to parch our lips. We had had no food nor drink for more than twenty
+hours. Our horses, wounded with many arrows, were harder to care for
+than our brave, stricken men.
+
+Night came upon the cañons of the Prairie Dog, and with the darkness the
+firing ceased. Somewhere, not far away, there might be a wagon-train
+with food for us. And somewhere near there might be a hundred men or
+more of our command trying to reach us. But, whether the force and
+supplies were safe or the wagons were captured and all our comrades
+killed, as Charlie Bent had said, we could not know. We only knew that
+we had no food; that one man, and all but four of our cavalry horses
+lay dead out in the valley; that two men in our midst were slowly dying,
+and a dozen others suffering from wounds of battle, among these our
+captain and Scout Pliley; that we were in a wild, strange land, with
+Indians perching, vulture-like, on every hill-top, waiting for dawn to
+come to seize their starving prey.
+
+We heard an owl hoot here and there, and farther off an answering hoot;
+a coyote's bark, a late bird's note, another coyote, and a fainter hoot,
+all as night settled. And we knew that owl and coyote and twilight
+song-bird were only imitations--sentinel signals from point to point,
+where Indian videttes guarded every height, watching the trail with
+shadow-piercing eyes.
+
+The glossy cottonwood leaves, in the faint night breeze, rippled like
+pattering rain-drops on dry roofs in summertime, and the thin, willow
+boughs swayed gently over us. The full moon swept grandly up the
+heavens, pouring a flood of softened light over the valley of the
+Prairie Dog, whose steep bluffs were guarded by a host of blood-lusting
+savages, and whose cañons locked in a handful of intrepid men.
+
+If we could only slip out, undiscovered, in the dark we might find our
+command somewhere along the creek. It was a perilous thing to undertake,
+but to stay there was more perilous.
+
+"Say, Gail," Beverly whispered, when we were in motion, "somebody said
+once, 'There have been no great nations without processions,' but this
+is the darndest procession I ever saw to help to make a nation great.
+Hold on, comrade. There! Rest on my arm a bit. It makes it softer."
+
+The last words to a wounded soldier for whom Bev's grip eased the ride.
+
+It was a strange procession, and in that tragic gloom the boy's
+light-hearted words were balm to me.
+
+Silently and slowly we moved forward. The underbrush was thick on either
+side of the narrow, stony way that wound between sheer cliffs. We had
+torn up our blankets and shirts to muffle the horses' feet, that no
+sound of hoofs, striking upon the rocky path, might reach the ears of
+the Cheyenne and his allies crouching watchfully above us. At the head
+marched Captain Jenness and Scout Pliley, each with his carbine for a
+crutch and leaning on each other for support. Followed five soldiers as
+front guard through the defile. And then four horses, led by careful
+hands, bearing nine suffering, silent men upon their backs. Two of the
+horses carried three, and one bore two, and the last horse, one--a dying
+boy, whispering into my ear a message for his mother, as I held his
+hand. Behind us came the sergeants with the remainder, for rear-guard.
+And so we passed, mile after mile, winding in and out, to find some
+sheltering spot where, sinking in exhaustion, we might sleep.
+
+The midnight winds grew chill, and the tense strain of that slow march
+was maddening, but not a groan came from the wounded men. The vanguards
+of the plains knew how to take perilous trails and hold their peace.
+
+When the sun rose on the second day the hills about us swarmed with
+savages, whose demoniac yells rent the air. Leonidas had his back
+against a rock at old Thermopylae, but our Kansas plainsmen fought in a
+ring of fire.
+
+At day-dawn, our brave scout, Pliley, slipped away, and, after long
+hours among the barren hills, he found the main command.
+
+Men never gave up hope in the plains warfare, but each of us had saved
+one bullet for himself, if we must lose this game. The time for that
+last bullet had almost come when the sight of cavalrymen on a distant
+ridge told us that our scout was on its way to us again. It took a
+hero's heart to thread unseen the dangerous trails and find our comrades
+with the cavalry major and bring back aid, but Pliley did it for us--a
+man's part. May the sod rest lightly where he sleeps to-day.
+
+Meantime, on the day before, the main force of our cavalry, who had
+given us up for lost, had had their own long, fearful struggle. In the
+early morning, Lieutenant Stahl, scouting forward in an open plain,
+rushed back to give warning of Indians everywhere. And they were
+everywhere--a thousand strong against a feeble hundred caught in their
+midst. They rode like centaurs, and their aim was deadly true as they
+poured down, a murderous avalanche, from every hillslope. Their ponies'
+tails, sweeping the ground, lengthened by long horse-hair braids, with
+sticks thrust through at intervals by way of ornament; their waving
+blankets, and streamered lances held aloft; the savage roar from ten
+hundred throats; the mad impetus of their furious charge through clouds
+of dust and rifle smoke--all made the valley of the Prairie Dog seem but
+a seething hell bursting with fiendins shouts, shot through with
+quivering arrows, shattered by bullets, rocked with the thunderous beat
+of horses' hoofs, trampling it into one great maelstrom of blood and
+dirt.
+
+All day, with neither food nor water, amid bewildering bluffs and
+gorges, alive with savage warriors, the cavalrymen had striven
+desperately. Night fell, and in the clear moonlight they forced their
+way across the Prairie Dog, and neither man nor horse dared to stop to
+drink because an instant's pause meant death.
+
+And the evening and the morning were the first day. And the second was
+like unto it, albeit we were no longer a triangle, made up of
+wagon-train here and main command there, and our twenty-nine--less two
+lost ones--under Captain Jenness, at a third point. Before noon, our
+force was all united and we joined hands for the finish.
+
+Beverly and I rode side by side all day. Everywhere around us the
+half-breed, Charlie Bent, dashed boldly on his big, white horse calling
+us cowardly dogs and taunting us with lack of marksmanship.
+
+"I'm getting tired of that fellow, Gail. I'll pick his horse out from
+under him pretty soon, see if I don't." My cousin called to me as
+Bent's insolent cry burst forth:
+
+"Come out, and let me show you how to shoot."
+
+Beverly leaped out toward the Indian horde surrounding Bent. He raised
+his carbine, and with steady aim, fired far across the field of battle,
+the cleanest shot I ever saw. Years ago my cousin had urged Uncle Esmond
+to let him practise shooting on horseback. He was a master of the art
+now. Charlie Bent's splendid white steed fell headlong, hurling its
+rider to the ground and dragging him, face downward, in the dirt.
+
+I cannot paint that day's deeds with my pen, nor ever artist lived whose
+brush could reproduce it. If we should lose here, it meant the turning
+of the clock from morning back to midnight on the Kansas plains.
+
+Between this and the safety of the prairies stood fewer than a hundred
+and fifty men, against a thousand warriors, led by cunning half-breeds
+skilled in the white man's language and the red man's fiendishness.
+
+If we should lose--We did not go out there to lose. When each man does a
+man's part there is no failure possible at last.
+
+As the sun sank toward late afternoon, the savage force massed for its
+great, crushing blow that should annihilate us. The strong center, made
+up of the flower of every tribe engaged, was on the crest of a long,
+westward-reaching slope, a splendid company of barbaric
+warriors--strong, eager, vengeful, doggedly determined to finish now
+the struggle with the power they hated.
+
+The air was very clear, and in its crystal distances we could see every
+movement and hear each command.
+
+The valley rang with the taunts and jeers and threats and mocking
+laughter of our foes, daring us to come out and meet them face to face,
+like men. And we went out and met them face to face, like men.
+
+A little force of soldiery fighting, not for ourselves, but for the
+hearthstones of a nobler people, our cavalry swung up that long, western
+slope in the face of a murderous fire, into the very heart of Cheyenne
+strength, enforced by all the iron of the allied tribes. I marvel at it
+now, when, in solid phalanx, our foes might easily have mowed us down
+like a thin line of standing grain; for their numbers seemed unending,
+while flight on flight of arrows and fierce sheets of rifle-fire swept
+our ranks as we rode on to death or victory. But each man's face among
+us there was bright with courage, and with our steady force unchecked we
+swept right on to the very crest of the high slope, scattering the
+enemy, at last, like wind-blown autumn leaves, until upon our guidons
+victory rested and the long day was won.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+GONE OUT
+
+
+    I wander alone at dead of night,
+    But ever before me I see a light,
+    In darkest hours more clear, more bright;
+      And the hope that I bear fails never.
+
+        FREDRICH RÜCKERT.
+
+
+The waters of the Smoky Hill flowed yellow, flecked with foam, beside
+our camp, where, in a little grove of cottonwood trees, we rested from a
+long day's march. The heat of a late Kansas summer day was fanned away
+at twilight by the cool prairie breeze. There was an appealing something
+in the air that evening hour that made me homesick. So I went down
+beside the river to fight out my daily battle and let the wide spaces of
+the landscape soothe me, and all the opal tints of sunset skies and the
+soft radiance of a prairie twilight bring me their inspiration.
+
+Each day my heart-longing for the girl I must not love grew stronger. I
+wondered, as I sat here to-night, what trail would open for me when
+Beverly and Eloise should meet again, as lovers must meet some time. We
+had not once spoken her name between us, Bev and I, in all the days and
+nights since we had been in service on the plains.
+
+As I sat lonely, musing vaguely of a score of things that all ran back
+to one fair face, Beverly dropped down beside me. His face was grave and
+his eyes had a gentle, pleading look, something strange and different
+from the man whose moods I knew.
+
+"I'm homesick, Gail." He smiled as he spoke, and all the boy of all the
+years was in that smile.
+
+"So am I, Bev. It must be in the water here," I replied, lightly.
+
+But neither one misunderstood the other.
+
+"I'd like to see Little Lees to-night. Wouldn't you?" he asked,
+suddenly.
+
+The question startled me. Maybe my cousin wanted to confide in me here.
+I would not be selfish with him.
+
+"Yes, I always like to see her. Why to-night, though?" I asked,
+encouragingly.
+
+Beverly looked steadily into my face.
+
+"I want to tell you something, Gail. I haven't dared to speak before,
+but something tells me I should speak to-night," he said slowly.
+
+I looked away along the winding valley of the Smoky Hill. I must hear it
+some time. Why be a coward now?
+
+"Say on, I'm always ready to hear anything from you, Beverly."
+
+I tried to speak firmly, and I hoped my voice did not seem faltering to
+him. He sat silent a long while. Then he rose and straightened to his
+full height--a splendid form of strength and wholesomeness and grace.
+
+"I'll tell you some time soon, but not to-night. Honor is something with
+me yet."
+
+And so he left me.
+
+I dreamed of him that night with Eloise. And all of us were glad. I
+wakened suddenly. Beverly was standing near me. He turned and walked
+away, his upright form and gait, even in the faint light, individually
+Bev's own. I saw him lie down and draw his blanket about him, then sit
+up a moment, then nestle down again. Something went wrong with sleep and
+me for a long time, and once I called out, softly:
+
+"Bev, can't you sleep?"
+
+"Oh, shut up! Not if you fidget about me," he replied, with the old
+happy-go-lucky toss of the head and careless tone.
+
+It was dim dawn when I wakened. My cousin was sleeping calmly just a few
+feet away. An irresistible longing to speak to him overcame me and I
+slipped across and gently kicked the slumbering form. Two cavalry
+blankets rolled apart. A note pinned to the edge of one caught my eye. I
+stooped to read:
+
+     DEAR GAIL, Don't hate me. I'm sick of army life. They will call me
+     a coward and if they get me they will shoot me for a deserter. I
+     have disgraced the Clarenden name. You'll never see me again.
+     Good-bye, old boy.
+
+     BEV.
+
+Deserter!
+
+The yells of all the tribes in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+shrieked not so fiercely in my ears as that word rang now. And all the
+valley of the Smoky Hill echoed and re-echoed it.
+
+Deserter!
+
+My Beverly--who never told a lie, nor feared a danger, nor ever, except
+in self-defense, hurt a creature God had made. I could bury Bev, or
+stand beside him on his wedding-day. But Beverly disgraced! O, God of
+mercy toward all cowards, pity him!
+
+I sat down beside the blankets I had kicked apart and looked back over
+my cousin's life. It offered me no help. I thought of Eloise--and his
+longing to see her on the night before; of his struggle to tell me
+something. I knew now what that something was. Poor boy!
+
+He was not a boy, he was a man--strong, fearless, happy-hearted. How
+could the plains make cowards out of such as he? They had made a man of
+Jondo, who had all excuse to play the coward. The mystery of the human
+mind is a riddle past my reading--and I had always thought of Beverly's
+as an open book. The only one to whom I could turn now was not Eloise,
+nor my uncle, nor Mat nor Rex, but Jondo, John Doe, the nameless man,
+with whom Esmond Clarenden had walked all these years and for whose sake
+he had rescued Eloise St. Vrain. They had "toted together," as Aunty
+Boone had said. Oh, Aunty Boone with dull eyes of prophecy! I could hear
+her soft voice saying:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+She could not come "hot streaks" now, for Beverly had deserted. But
+there was Jondo.
+
+I wrote at once to him, inclosing the crumpled note, and then, as one
+who walks with neither sight nor feeling any more, I rode the plains and
+did a man's part in that Eighteenth Cavalry campaign of '67. The days
+went slowly by, bringing the long, bright autumn beauty to the plains
+and turning all the elms to gold along the creek at Burlingame. Time
+took away the sharp edge from our grief and shame, and left the dull
+pain that wears deeper and deeper, unnoticed by us; and all of us who
+had loved Beverly lived on and were cheerful for one another's sake.
+
+When Jondo--as only Jondo could--bore the news of my letter to Esmond
+Clarenden, he made no reply, but sat like an image of stone. Rex Krane
+broke down and sobbed as if his heart would break. But Mat, calm,
+poised, and always merciful, merely said:
+
+"We must wait awhile."
+
+It was many days before she broke the news to Eloise St. Vrain, who only
+smiled and said:
+
+"Gail is mistaken. Beverly couldn't desert."
+
+It was when the word came to Aunty Boone that the storm broke. They told
+me afterward that her face was terrible to see, and that her eyes grew
+dull and narrow. She went out to the bluff's edge and sat staring up the
+valley of the Kaw as if to see into the hidden record of the coming
+years.
+
+One October day, when the Kranes and Eloise sat with my uncle and Jondo
+in the soft afternoon air, looking out at the beauty of the Missouri
+bluffs, Aunty Boone loomed up before them suddenly.
+
+"I got somebody's fortune, just come clear before me," she declared, in
+her soft voice. "Lemme see you' hand, Little Lees!"
+
+Eloise put her shapely white hand upon the big, black paw.
+
+Aunty Boone patted it gently, the first and last caress she ever gave to
+any of us.
+
+"You' goin' to get a letter from a dark man. You' goin' to take a long
+journey. And somebody goin' with you. An' the one tellin' this is goin'
+away, jus' one more voyage to desset sands again, and see Africy and her
+own kingdom. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Never before, in all the years that we had known her, had she expressed
+a wish for her early home across he seas. Her voice trailed off weirdly,
+and she gazed at the Kaw Valley for a long moment. Then she said, in a
+low tone that thrilled her listeners with its vibrant power:
+
+"Bev ain't no deserter. He's gone out! Jus' gone out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She disappeared around the corner of the house and stood long in the
+little side porch where Beverly had kissed Little Blue Flower one night
+in the "Moon of the Peach-Blossom," and Eloise had found them there, and
+I had unwittingly heard what was said.
+
+"Is there no variation in palmistry?" Rex Krane asked. "I never knew a
+gypsy in all my life who read a different set of prophecies. It's always
+the dark man--I'm light (darn the luck)--and a journey and a letter. But
+I thought maybe an African seer, a sort of Voodo, hoodoo, bugaboo, would
+have it a light man and a legacy and company coming, instead of you
+taking a journey, Eloise."
+
+Eloise smiled.
+
+"You musn't envy me my good fortune, Rex," she declared. "Aunty Boone
+says she is going back to Africa, too. You'll need a new cook, Uncle
+Esmond. Let me apply for the place right now."
+
+My uncle smiled affectionately on her.
+
+"I could give you a trial, as I gave her. I remember I told her if she
+could cook good meals I'd keep her; if not, she'd leave. Do you want to
+take the risk?"
+
+"That's where you'll get your journey of the prophecy, Eloise," Jondo
+suggested.
+
+"Well, you leave out the best part of it all," Mat broke in. "She added
+that Beverly isn't a deserter, he's just 'gone out.' Why don't you
+believe it all, serious or frivolous?"
+
+A shadow lifted from the faces there as a glimpse of hope came slowly
+in.
+
+"And as to letters, Eloise," Uncle Esmond said, "I must beg your pardon.
+I have one here for you that I had forgotten. It came this morning."
+
+"See if it isn't from a dark man, inviting you to take a journey," Rex
+suggested.
+
+"It must be, it's from Santa Fé," Eloise said, opening the letter
+eagerly.
+
+Aunty Boone had come back again and was standing by the corner of the
+veranda, half hidden by vines, watching Eloise with steady eyes. The
+girl's face grew pale, then deadly white, and her big, dark eyes were
+opened wide as she dropped the letter and looked at the faces about her.
+
+"It is from Father Josef," she gasped. "He writes of Little Blue Flower
+somewhere in Hopi-land. He asks me to go to Santa Fé at once for her
+sake. And it says, too--" The voice faltered and Eloise turned to Esmond
+Clarenden. "It says that Beverly is there somewhere and he wants you.
+Read it, Uncle Esmond."
+
+As Eloise rose and laid the letter in my uncle's hand, Aunty Boone,
+hidden by the vines, muttered in her soft, strange tone:
+
+"He's jus' gone out. Thank Jupiter! He's jus' gone out. I'm goin', hot
+streaks, to help him, too. Then I go to my own desset where I'm honin' o
+to be, an' stay there till the judgment Day. Whoo-ee!"
+
+In the early morning of a rare October day upon the plains I sat on my
+cavalry horse beside Fort Hays, waiting for one last word from my
+superior officer, Colonel Moore. He was my uncle's friend, and he had
+been kind to the Clarenden boys, as military kindness runs.
+
+"You are honorably discharged," he said. "Take these letters to Fort
+Dodge. You will meet your friends there, and have some safeguard from
+there on, by order of General Sheridan. God bless you, Gail. You have
+ridden well. I wish you a safe journey, and I hope you'll find your
+cousin soon. He was a splendid boy until this happened. He may be
+cleared some day."
+
+"He is splendid still to me in spite of everything," I replied.
+
+"Yes, yes," my colonel responded. "Never a Clarenden disgraced the name
+before. That is why General Sheridan is granting you a squad to help
+you. It is a great thing to have a good name. Good-by."
+
+"Good-by. I thank you a thousand times," I said, saluting him.
+
+"And I thank you. A chain, you know, is as strong as its weakest link. A
+cavalry troop is as able as its soldiers make it."
+
+He turned his horse about, and I rode off alone across the lonely plains
+a hundred miles away toward old Fort Dodge, beside the Arkansas River.
+Jondo and Rex were to meet me there for one more trip on the long Santa
+Fé Trail.
+
+
+Late September rains had blessed the valley of the Arkansas. The level
+land about Fort Dodge showed vividly green against the yellow sand-hills
+across the river, and the brown, barren bluffs westward, where a little
+city would one day rise in pretty picturesqueness. The scene was like
+the Garden of Eden to my eyes when I broke through the rough ridges to
+the north on the last lap of my long ride thither and hurried down to
+the fort. I grant I did not appear like one who had a right to enter
+Eden, for I was as brown as a Malayan. Nearly four months of hard
+riding, sleeping on the ground, with a sky-cover, eating buffalo meat,
+and drinking the dregs of slow-drying pools, had made a plainsman of me,
+of the breed that long since disappeared. Golf-sticks and automobile
+steering-wheels are held by hands to-day no less courageous than those
+that swung the carbine into place, and flung aside the cavalry
+bridle-rein in a wild onslaught in our epic day. Each age grows men,
+flanked by the coward and the reckless daredevil.
+
+Rex Krane was first to recognize me when I reached the fort.
+
+"Oh, we are all here but Mat: Clarenden, Jondo, Aunty Boone, and Little
+Lees; and a squad of half a dozen cavalry men are ready to go with us."
+Rex drawled in his old Yankee fashion, hiding an aching heart underneath
+his jovial greeting.
+
+"All of us!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes. Here they all come!" Rex retorted.
+
+They all came, but I saw only one, veiling the joy in my eyes as best I
+could. For with the face of Eloise before me, I knew the hardest battle
+of my life was calling me to colors. I had forgotten how womanly she
+was, or else her summer by the blessed prairies that lap up to the edge
+of the quiet town of Burlingame had brought her peace and helped her to
+put away sad memories of her mother.
+
+Behind her--a black background for her fair, golden head--was Aunty
+Boone.
+
+"Our girl was called to Santa Fé, and Daniel here goes with her. I
+couldn't stay behind, of course," my uncle said. "The Comanches are
+making trouble all along the Cimarron, and we will go up the Arkansas by
+the old trail route. It is farther, but the soldiers say much safer
+right now, and maybe just as quick for us. There is no load of freight
+to hinder us--two wagons and our mounts. Besides, the cavalrymen have
+some matters to look after near the mountains, or we might not have had
+their protection granted us."
+
+The beauty of that early autumn on the plains and mountains lingers in
+my memory still, though half a century has passed since that journey on
+the old, long trail to Santa Fé.
+
+At the closing of an Indian summer day we pitched our camp outside the
+broken walls of old Fort Bent. Every day found me near Eloise, although
+the same barrier was between us that had risen up the day she left me in
+the ruined chapel by the San Christobal River. Every day I longed to
+tell her what Beverly had said to me the night he--went out. It was due
+her that she should know how tenderly he had thought of her.
+
+The night was irresistible, soft and balmy for the time of year, as that
+night had been long ago when we children were marooned inside this
+stronghold. A thin, growing moon hung in the crystal heavens and all
+the shadowy places were softened with gray tones. Jondo and Uncle Esmond
+and Rex Krane were talking together. Aunty Boone was clearing up after
+the evening meal. The soldiers were about their tasks or pastimes. Only
+Eloise and I were left beside the camp-fire.
+
+"Let's go and find the place where we spent our last evening here,
+Little Lees," I said, determined to-night to tell her of Beverly.
+
+"And just as many other places as we can remember," Eloise replied.
+
+We clambered over heaps of fallen stone in the wide doorway, and stood
+inside the half-roofless ruin that had been a stronghold at the
+wilderness crossroads.
+
+The outer walls were broken here and there. The wearing elements were
+slowly separating the inner walls and sagging roofs. Heaps of debris lay
+scattered about. Over the caving well the well-sweep stuck awry, marking
+a place of danger. Everywhere was desolation and slow destruction.
+
+We sat down on some fallen timbers in the old court and looked about us.
+
+"It was a pity that Colonel Bent should have blown up this splendid
+fortress, and all because the Government wouldn't pay him his price for
+it," I declared.
+
+"Destroyed what he had built so carefully, and what was so useful,"
+Eloise commented. "Sometimes we wreck our lives in the same way."
+
+I have said the twilight seemed to fit her best, although at all times
+she was fair. But to-night she was a picture in her traveling dress of
+golden brown, with soft, white folds about her throat. I wondered if she
+thought of Beverly as she spoke. It hurt me so to be harsh with his
+memory.
+
+"Yes, Charlie Bent blew up all that the Colonel built into him, of
+education and the ways of cultured folks--a leader of a Dog Indian band,
+he is a piece of manhood wrecked. And by the way," I went on, "Beverly
+shot his beautiful white horse on the Prairie Dog Creek. You should have
+seen that shot. It was the cleanest piece of long-range marksmanship I
+ever saw. He hated Bev for that."
+
+"Maybe he gloats over our lost Beverly to-day. He is only 'gone out' to
+me," Eloise said softly.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Little Lees. Beverly and I never spoke of
+you--you can guess why--until that last night beside the Smoky Hill. He
+wanted to tell me something that night."
+
+"And did he?" Eloise asked, eagerly.
+
+"No. He said honor was something with him still. I thought he meant to
+tell me of himself and you. Forgive me. I do not want any confidences
+not freely given. But now I know it was the struggle in which he went
+down that night that he wanted to tell me about. He said first, 'I'm
+homesick. I'd like to see Little Lees.' And his eyes were full of
+sympathy as he looked at me."
+
+"Did he say anything more?" Eloise's voice was almost a whisper.
+
+"That was all. I thought that night I should hunt a lonely trail--when
+he went home to claim--happiness. But now I feel that I could live
+beside him always--to have him safe with us again."
+
+As I turned to look at Eloise something was in her big, dark
+eyes--something that disappeared at once. I caught only a fleeting
+glimpse of it, and I could not understand why a thrill of something near
+to happiness should sweep through me. It was but the shadow of what
+might have been for me and was not.
+
+"Do you recall our prophecies here that night when we were children?"
+Eloise asked.
+
+"Yes, every one. Mat wanted a home, Bev to fight the Indians, and you
+wanted me to keep Marcos Ramero in his place. I tried to do it," I
+replied.
+
+And both of us recalled, but did not speak of, the warm, childish kiss
+of Little Lees upon my lips, and how we gripped hands in the shadows
+when the moon went cold and grey. Life was so simple then.
+
+"It may be, if our problems and our tragedies crowd into our younger
+years, they clear the way for all the bright, unclouded years to
+follow," Eloise said, as we rose to go back to the camp-fire.
+
+"I hope they will leave us strong to meet the bright, unclouded years,"
+I answered her.
+
+On the next day the cavalrymen left us for a time, and we went on alone
+southward toward our journey's end.
+
+Autumn on the mountain slopes, and in the mesa-girdled valleys of New
+Mexico hung rainbow-tinted lights by day, with star-beam pointed paths
+trailing across the blue night-sky. And all the rugged beauty of a
+picturesque land, basking in lazy warmth, out-breathing sweet, pure air,
+made the old trail to Santa Fé an enchanting highway to me, despite the
+burden of a grief that weighed me down. For I could not shut from my
+mind the pitiful call of Little Blue Flower that had come to Eloise, nor
+all the uncertainty surrounding my cousin somewhere in the Southwest
+wanting us.
+
+The little city of adobe walls seemed not to have changed a hair's turn
+in the six years since I had seen it last. Out beyond the sandy arroyo
+again Father Josef waited for us. The same strong face and dark eyes,
+full of fire, the same erect form and manly bearing were his. Except for
+a few streaks of gray in his close-cropped hair the years had wrought no
+change in him, save that his countenance betokened the greater
+benediction of a godly life upon it. As we rode slowly to the door of
+San Miguel I fell behind. The years since that day when the saucy little
+girl had called me a big, brown, bob-cat here came back upon my mind,
+and, though my hope had vanished, still I loved the old church.
+
+Before we had passed the doorway Eloise left her wagon and stood beside
+my horse.
+
+"Gail, let us stop here with Father Josef while the others go down to
+Felix Narveo's. It always seems so peaceful here."
+
+"You are always welcome here, my children," Father Josef said,
+graciously, as I leaped from my horse and stuck its lariat pin down
+beside the doorway.
+
+Inside there were the same soft lights from the high windows, the same
+rare old paintings about the altar, the same seat beside the door.
+
+The priest spoke to us in low tones befitting sanctuary stillness. "You
+have come on a long journey, but it is one of mercy. I only pray you do
+not come too late," he said.
+
+"Tell us about it, Father," Eloise urged. "The men will get the story
+from Felix Narveo, but Gail and I seem to belong up here." She smiled up
+at me with the words.
+
+I could have almost hoped anew just then, but for the thought of
+Beverly.
+
+"Let us pray first," the holy man replied.
+
+Beverly and I had been confirmed in the Episcopalian faith once long
+ago, but the plains were hard on the religion of a high-church man. And
+yet, all sacred forms are beautiful to me, and I always knew what
+reverence means.
+
+"You may not know," Father Josef said, "that I have Indian blood in my
+veins--a Hopi strain from some French ancestors. Po-a-be, our Little
+Blue Flower, is my heathen cousin, descended from the same chief's
+daughter. The Hopi's faith is a part of him, like his hand or eye, and I
+have never gained much with the tribe save through blood-ties. But
+because of that I have their confidence."
+
+"You have all men's confidence, Father Josef," I said, warmly.
+
+"Thank you, my son," the priest replied. "When Santan, the Apache, came
+back from a long raid eastward, he told Little Blue Flower that Beverly
+had spared his life beside a poisoned spring in the Cimarron valley,
+urging him to go back and marry her; life had other interests now to
+white men who must forget all about Indian girls, he declared, and with
+Apache adroitness he pressed his claims upon her. But Santan had slain
+Sister Anita beside the San Christobal Arroyo. A murderer is abhorrent
+to a Hopi, who never takes life, save in self-defense or in legitimate
+warfare--if warfare ever is legitimate," he added, gravely.
+
+"My little cousin was heart-broken, for all the years since her rescue
+at Pawnee Rock she had cherished one face in memory; and maybe Beverly
+in his happy, careless way had given her cause to do so."
+
+"We understand, I think," Eloise said, turning inquiringly to me.
+
+I nodded, and Father Josef went on. "She knew her love was foolish, but
+few of us are always wise in love. So Santan's suit seemed promising for
+a time. But the Hopi type ran true in her, and she put off the Apache
+year after year. It is a strange case in Indian romance, but romance
+everywhere is strange enough. The Apache type also ran true to dogged
+purpose. Besides being an Apache, Santan has some Ramero blood in his
+veins, to be accounted for in the persistence of an evil will. He was
+as determined to win Po-a-be as she that he should fail. And he was
+cunning in his schemes."
+
+Father Josef paused and looked at Eloise.
+
+"To make the story short," he began again, "Santan could not make the
+Hopi woman hate Beverly, although she knew that her love was hopeless,
+as it should be. Pardon me, daughter," Father Josef said, gently. "She
+heard you two talking in a little porch one night at the Clarenden home,
+and she has believed ever since that you are lovers. That is why she
+sent for you to come to help her now."
+
+"I saw Beverly give Little Blue Flower a brotherly kiss that night, and
+I told him, frankly, how it grieved me, because I had known at St. Ann's
+about her love for him. I had urged her to go with me to the
+Clarendens', hoping that when she saw Beverly again she would quit
+dreaming of him."
+
+I looked away, at the paintings and the crucifix above the altar, and
+the long shafts of light on gray adobe walls, wondering, vaguely, what
+the next act of this drama might reveal.
+
+"Beverly was always lovable," Father Josef said. "But now the message
+comes that he is out in the heart of Hopi-land, and because Little Blue
+Flower is protecting him her people may turn against her. For Beverly's
+sake, and for her sake, too, my daughter, we must start at once to find
+her and maybe save his life. She wants you. It is the call of
+sisterhood. Sister Gloria and I will go with you. I have much influence
+with my Hopi people."
+
+"Will they put Beverly to death?" I asked.
+
+"I cannot tell, but--see how long the arm of hate can be, my
+son--Santan, the Apache, has been informed of Beverly's coming by Marcos
+Ramero, gambler and debauchee. And Marcos got it in some way from
+Charlie Bent, a Cheyenne half-breed, son of old Colonel Bent, a fine old
+gentleman. Maybe you knew young Bent?"
+
+"Yes, he holds a grudge against the Clarenden name because we made him
+play square with us at the old fort when we were children," I told the
+priest. "He yelled defiance at us in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+last August. Bev shot his horse from under him just to humble the
+insolent dog! Beverly never was a coward," I insisted, all my affection
+for my cousin overwhelming me.
+
+"This makes it clearer," Father Josef said. "Through Bent to Ramero and
+Ramero to Santan, the word went, somehow. The Apache has gathered up a
+band of the worst of his breed and they are moving against the Hopis to
+get Beverly. You and Jondo and Clarenden and Krane will join the little
+squad of cavalry you left up in the mountains, and turn the Apache back,
+and all of us must start at once, or we may be too late. May heaven
+bless our hands and make them strong."
+
+We bowed in reverence for a moment. When we hurried from the dim church
+into the warm October sunlight, Aunty Boone sat on the door-step beside
+my horse.
+
+"'He's jus' gone out,' I told 'em so, back there on the Missouri River.
+He's gone out an' I'm goin', hot streaks, to find him, Little Lees.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+     And though there's never a grave to tell,
+     Nor a cross to mark his fall,
+     Thank God! we know that he "batted well"
+     In the last great Game of all.
+
+         --SERVICE.
+
+
+We left Santa Fé within an hour, and struck out toward the unknown land
+where Beverly Clarenden, in the midst of uncertain friends, was being
+hunted down by an Apache band. As our little company passed out on the
+trail toward Agua Fria, I recalled the day when we had gone with Rex
+Krane to this little village beside the Santa Fé River. Eloise and
+Father Josef and Santan and Little Blue Flower were all there that day;
+and Jondo, although we did not know it then. Rex Krane had told Beverly,
+going out, that an Indian never forgets. In all the years Santan had not
+forgotten.
+
+To-day we covered the miles rapidly. Jondo and Father Josef rode ahead,
+with Esmond Clarenden and Felix Narveo following them; then came Eloise
+St. Vrain with Sister Gloria; behind them, Aunty Boone, with Rex and
+myself bringing up the rear. Three pack-mules bearing our equipment
+went tramping after us with bobbing ears and sturdy gait.
+
+I looked down the line of our little company ahead. The four men in the
+lead were college chums once, and all of them had loved the mother of
+the girl behind them. I have said the girl looked best by twilight. I
+had not seen her in a coarse-gray riding-dress when I said that. I had
+seen her when she needed protection from her enemies. I had not seen her
+until to-day, going out to meet hardship fearlessly, for the sake of one
+who wanted her--only an Indian maiden, but a faithful friend. In the
+plainest face self-forgetfulness puts a beauty all its own. That beauty
+shone resplendent now in the beautiful face of Mary Marchland's
+daughter.
+
+The world can change wonderfully in sixty minutes. As we rode out toward
+the Rio Grande, the yellow sands, the gray gramma grass, the purple
+sage, the tall green cliffs, and, high above, the gleaming snow-crowned
+peaks, took on a beauty never worn for me before. Why should a hope
+spring up within me that would die as other hopes had died? But back of
+all my thought was the longing to help Beverly, and a faith in Aunty
+Boone's weird, prophetic grip on things unseen. He had just "gone out"
+to her--why not to all of us? I could not understand Little Blue
+Flower's part in this tragedy, so I let it alone.
+
+A day out from Santa Fé we were joined by the little squad of cavalrymen
+with whom we had parted company back at the Fort Bent camping-place.
+With these we had little cause to dread personal danger. The Apache band
+was a small, vicious gang that could do much harm to the Hopis, but it
+seemed nothing for us to fear.
+
+Our care was to reach Beverly before the Hopis should rise up against
+Little Blue Flower, or the band led by Santan should fall upon them.
+Father Josef had sent a runner on to tell them of our coming and to warn
+them of the Apache raid. But runners sometimes come to grief.
+
+It is easy enough now to sleep most of the hours away across the and
+lands that lie between the Rockies and the Coast Range mountains, where
+the great "through limiteds," swinging down their long trail of steel,
+sweep farther in one day than we crept in two long, weary weeks in that
+October fifty years ago. Only Father Josef's unerring Indian accuracy
+brought us through.
+
+We crawled up rugged mountain trails and skirted the rims of dizzy
+chasms; we wound through cañons, with only narrow streams for paths,
+between sheer walls of rock; we pitched our camp at the bases of great,
+red sand stone mesas, barren of life; we followed long, yellow ways over
+stretches of unending plain; we wandered in the painted-desert lands,
+where all the colors God has made bewilder with their beauty, in the
+barest, dreariest, most unlovely bit of unfinished world that our great
+continent holds; the lands forgotten, maybe, when, in Creation's busy
+week, the evening and the morning were the sixth day, and the Great
+Builder looked on His work and called it good.
+
+We found the Hopi trails, but not the Hopi clan that we were seeking. We
+found Apache trails behind them, but only dimly marked, as if they blew
+one moccasin track full of sand before they made another.
+
+The October days were dreams of loveliness, and dawn and sunset on the
+desert were indescribably beautiful. But the nights were bitterly cold.
+Eloise and Sister Gloria were native to the Southwest and they knew how
+to dress warmly for it. Aunty Boone had never felt such chilling night
+breezes, but not one word of complaint came from her lips in all that
+journey.
+
+One night we gathered into camp beneath the shelter of a little butte.
+We had overtaken Father Josef's Indian runner an hour before. He had not
+found the Hopis yet, and so we held a council.
+
+"The Hopi is ahead of us northwest," the Indian declared.
+
+"Is the Apache following?" Jondo asked.
+
+The runner nodded. "They have been pursued, but they have slipped away;
+the Apache goes north, they turn north-west. They take the dry lands and
+the pine forests beyond; their last chance. If they hold out till the
+Apache leaves, they will return safely. You follow them, wait for them,
+or go back without them. It is your choice."
+
+We turned toward the three women, one in the bloom of her young
+womanhood, one with the patient endurance of the nun, one black and
+strong and always unafraid.
+
+"I do not want to leave Little Blue Flower in her hour of peril," Eloise
+said.
+
+"I can go where I am needed," Sister Gloria declared.
+
+"This is my land, I never know Africa was right out here. I thought they
+was oceans on both sides of it. I go where Bev's gone out an then I come
+here and stay. Whoo-ee!"
+
+We smiled at her mistaken dream of her far African home, and, cheering
+one another on, when morning came we moved northwest.
+
+Jondo rode beside me all that day, and we talked of many things.
+
+"Gail," he said, "Aunty Boone is right. This is her Africa. I don't
+believe she will ever leave it."
+
+"She can't stay here, Jondo," I replied.
+
+"She will, though. You will see. Did she ever fail to have her way?"
+
+"No. She is a type of her own, never to be reproduced, but like a great
+dog in her faithful loyalty," I declared.
+
+"And shrewder than most men," Jondo went on. "She supplied the lost link
+with Santan for me last night. Years ago, when Little Blue Flower
+brought me a message from Father Josef on the morning that we took
+Eloise from Santa Fé, I caught a glimpse of the Apache across the plaza
+and read the message--_'trust the bearer anywhere'_--to mean that boy.
+Aunty Boone had just peered out and scared the little girl away. She
+told me all about it last night, when she was bewailing Beverly's hard
+fate. How small a thing can open the road to a big tragedy. I trusted
+that whelp till that day at San Christobal."
+
+"I hope we will finish this soon," I said. "I don't understand Beverly
+at all and I marvel at Little Blue Flower's love for him. Don't you?"
+
+Jondo looked up with a pathos in his dark-blue eyes.
+
+"Don't hurry, Gail. The trails all end somewhere soon. Life is a
+stranger thing from day to day, but the one thing that no man will ever
+fully understand is a woman's love for man. There is only one thing
+higher, and that is mother-love."
+
+"The kind that you and Uncle Esmond have," I said.
+
+"Oh, I am only a man, but Clarenden has a woman's heart, as you and
+Beverly and my sister's child all know."
+
+"Your sister's child?" I gasped.
+
+"Yes. When her parents went with yellow fever, too, I could not adopt
+Mat--you know why. Clarenden did it for me. She has always known that I
+am her uncle, but Mat was always a self-contained child."
+
+I loved Mat more than ever from that hour.
+
+The next day our trail ran into pine forests, where tall, shapely trees
+point skyward. Not a dense woodland, but a seemingly endless one. Snows
+lay in the darker places, and here and there streams trickled out into
+the sunlight, whose only sources were these melting snows. It was a
+land of silence and loneliness--a land forgotten or unknown to record.
+The Hopi trail was stronger here and we followed it eagerly, but night
+overtook us early in the forest.
+
+That evening we gathered about a huge fire of pine boughs beneath a low
+stone ridge covered with evergreen trees that sheltered us warmly from
+the sharp west winds. We heard the cries of night-roving beasts, and in
+the darkness, now and then, a pair of gleaming eyes, seen for an
+instant, and then the rush of feet, told us that some wild creature had
+looked for the first time on fire.
+
+"To-morrow night will see our journey's end," Jondo declared. "The Hopi
+can't be far away, and I'm sure they are safe yet, and we shall reach
+them before the Apache does."
+
+The Indian runner's face did not change its blankness, but I felt that
+he doubted Jondo's judgment. That night he slipped away and we never saw
+him again.
+
+We were all hopeful that night, and hopeful the next morning when we
+broke camp early. A trail we had not seen the night before ran up the
+low ridge to the west of us. Eloise and I followed it up a little way,
+riding abreast. The ridge really was a narrow, rocky tableland, and
+beyond it was another higher slope, up which the same trail ran. The
+trees were growing smaller and the sky flowed broad and blue above their
+tops. The ground was only rock, with a thin veneer of soil here and
+there. Gnarled, stunted cedars and gray, twisted cypress clung for a
+roothold to these barren ledges. The morning breeze swept, sharp and
+invigorating, out of a broad open space beyond the edge of this rocky
+woodland height. Eloise and I pushed on a little farther, leaving the
+others still on the narrow shelf above our camping-place.
+
+Suddenly, as we rode out of the closer timber to where the scattered
+growths were hardly higher than our heads, the first heaven and the
+first earth seemed to pass away--not in irreverence I write it--and we
+stood face to face with a new heaven and a new earth--where, in the
+Grand Cañon of the Colorado River, the sublimity of the Almighty
+Builder's beauty and omnipotence was voiced in one stupendous Word,
+wrought in enduring color in everlasting stone. Cleaving its way
+westward to some far-off sea, a wide abyss, a dozen miles across from
+lip to lip, yawned down to the very vitals of the earth. We stood upon
+the rim of it--a sheer cliff that dropped a thousand feet of solid
+limestone, in one plummet line, to other cliffs below, that dropped
+again through furlongs of black gneiss, red sandstone, and gray granite.
+
+Beyond this mighty chasm great forest trees were, to our eyes, only as
+weeds along its rim. Between that rim and ours we could look down upon
+high mountain buttes and sloping red tablelands, and dizzy gorges with
+pinnacled walls and towers and domes--vast forms no pen will ever
+picture--not hurled in wild confusion by titan fury, but symmetrical and
+purposeful and calm.
+
+Through slowly crawling millions of patiently wearing years, while stars
+grew old and perished from the firmament, with cloud, and frost, and
+wind, and water, and sharp cutting sands, these strata of the old
+earth's crust were chiseled into gigantic outlines, and all the
+worn-down, crumbled atoms of debris were swept through long, tortuous
+leagues of distance toward the sea by a mad river swirling through the
+lowest depths. A mile straight down, as the crow never flies here, it
+rushes, but to us the river was a mere creek, seen only where the lower
+gorges open to the channel.
+
+In the early light of that October morning the weird, vast shapes that
+filled, the abyss were bathed in a bewildering opulence of color. Pale
+gold along the farther rim, with pink and amber, blue and gray, and
+heliotrope and rose--all blending softly, tone on tone. Deeper, the
+heart of every rift and chasm that flows into the one stupendous
+mother-rift was full of purple shadows. Not the thin lavender of the
+upper world where we must live, but tensely, richly regal, beyond words
+to paint; with silvery mists above, soft, filmy veils that draped the
+jutting rocks and rounded each harsh edge, melting pink to rose and gray
+to violet. Eternal silence brooded over all this symbol, wrought in
+visible form, of His Almightiness, to whom a thousand years are as a
+day, and in the hollow of whose hand He holds the universe. Measureless,
+motionless, voiceless, it seemed as if all the cañons of all the
+mountains of our great contienent might have given to it here
+their awful depth and height and rugged strength; their picturesqueness,
+color, graceful outlines, dizzy steeps and awe-inspiring lengths and
+breadths. And fusing all these into itself, height on height, and
+breadth on breadth, entrancing charm on charm, with all the hues that
+the Great Alchemist can throw from His vast prism, it seemed to say:
+
+"'Twas only in a vision that St. John saw the four-square city whose
+twelve gates are each a single pearl! whose walls are builded on
+foundation stones of jasper, sapphire, and chalcedony, emerald and
+topaz, chrysolite and amethyst; whose streets are of pure gold, like
+unto clear glass; whose light is ever like unto a stone most precious.
+
+"To you who may not dream the vision beautiful, the Mighty Maker of all
+things sublime has given me a token here in finite stone and earthly
+coloring of that undreamed sublimity of all things omnipotent."
+
+My companion and I sat on our horses speechless, gazing down at this
+overwhelming marvel below us. We forgot ourselves, each other, our
+companions of the journey, its purpose, Beverly, and his enemy Santan,
+the desert, the brown plains, green prairies, rivers, mountains, the
+earth itself, as we stood there in the shadow of the Infinite.
+
+At last we turned and looked into each other's eyes for one long moment.
+In its space we read the old, old story through, and a great,
+up-leaping joy illumined our faces. God, who had let us know each
+other, had let us stand by _this_ to feel the barrier of
+misunderstanding fall away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A sound of horses' hoofs on the rocky slope below us, a weird Indian
+call, and a great shout from our calverymen drew us to earth
+again. The Hopis were coming. Father Josef knew the signal. Our Indian
+runner had found them in the night and sent them toward us. We dashed
+into the forest, keeping close together; and here, a mile away, under
+green pines, surrounded by a little group of a desert Hopi clan, was
+Beverly Clarenden--big, strong, unhurt and joyful. And Little Blue
+Flower.
+
+The years since that far night when I had seen two maidens in Grecian
+robes beside the Flat Rock in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom," had left
+no trace on Eloise St. Vrain, save to imprint the graces of womanliness
+on her girlish face. But the picturesque Indian maiden of that night
+looked aged and sorrowful in the pine forest of her native land, bent,
+as she was, with the dull existence of her own people; she, who had
+known and loved a different form of life. Only the big, luminous eyes
+held their old charm.
+
+We came together in a little open space with pine-trees all about us.
+The minutes went swiftly then--and I must hurry to what came hurrying
+on, for much of it is lost in mist and wonder.
+
+In the moment of glad reunion Aunty Boone suddenly gave a whoop the
+like of which I had never heard before, and, dashing wildly toward
+Eloise and Sister Gloria, she drove them in a fierce charge straight
+back into the shelter of the pine-trees.
+
+At the same time a sudden rain of bullets, like a swift hail-storm, and
+a yell--the Apache cry of vengeance--filled the air. Long afterward we
+learned that our Indian runner had met this band and tried to turn it
+back--and failed. He would have saved us if he could.
+
+It was over soon--that encounter in the forest where each tree was a
+shield. The cavalrymen and maybe, too, we who had been plainsmen, knew
+how to drive back a villianous handful of Apaches. In any other
+moment since we had ridden out of Sante Fé we would have laughed
+at such a struggle. They took us in the most unguarded instant of that
+fortnight's journey.
+
+The Hopis fled wildly out of sight. Here and there, from the defeated,
+scattered band, an Apache warrior sprang back and lost himself quickly
+in the shadows. But Santan, plunging into our very midst, seized Little
+Blue Flower in his iron grip, and the bullet from a cavalry carbine,
+meant for him, struck her.
+
+He laughed and threw her back and, whirling, dashed--into the arms of
+Aunty Boone--and stopped.
+
+We carried our wounded tenderly up the steep wooded slope and out into
+the sweet sunlight of its crest, where we laid them down beside that
+wondrous rift with its shimmering mist and velvet shadows, and colorings
+of splendor, folded all in the magnificence of its immensity and its
+eternal silence.
+
+We knew that Jondo's wound was mortal, and Father Josef and Eloise and
+Rex Krane sat beside him, as the brave eyes looked out across the
+sublimity of earthly beauty toward the far land no eye hath seen,
+facing, unafraid, the outward-leading trail.
+
+But Beverly was in the prime of young manhood, and we felt sure of him,
+as Esmond Clarenden and Sister Gloria; and I ministered to his wants.
+
+"It's no use, Gail." My cousin lifted a pleading face to mine a moment,
+as on that day, years ago on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. Then
+the bright smile came back to stay.
+
+"Why, Bev, you have a life before you, and you aren't the only
+Eighteenth Kansas man who deserted. We can pull you through somehow--and
+people will forget. Even General Sheridan was willing to send a squad
+with us, on the possibility of a mistake somewhere."
+
+"Deserted!" Beverly's voice was too strong for a dying man's. "Uncle
+Esmond, Jondo, Eloise--all of you--Gail calls me a deserter. Me! Knock
+him over that precipice, won't some of you?"
+
+We listened eagerly as he went on:
+
+"Why, don't you know that Charlie Bent and his renegade dogs crawled
+into camp like snakes and carried me out by force. They had a time of
+it, too, but never mind. Bent told me he left a note for you. I supposed
+he would say I was dead. And when Gail stirred, half awake, he went
+pacing around the camp, looking so near like me I thought it was myself
+and I was Charlie Bent. I was roped and gagged then, but I could see.
+Deserter! I'm glad I got that white horse of his on the Prairie Dog
+Creek, anyhow."
+
+Beverly's face paled suddenly and he lay still a little while.
+
+"I'd better hurry." The smile was winsome. "They didn't give me a ghost
+of a chance to escape, but they didn't harm a hair. They kept me for a
+meaner purpose, and, well, I was landed, finally, at Santan's door-step
+in the Apache-land. Santan offered to let me go free if I'd persuade
+Little Blue Flower--dead down there--to marry him. He had her come to me
+on pretense of my sending for her. She hated the brute, and she was a
+woman, if she was an Indian. I told him I'd see him in hell first, and I
+told her never to give in. Poor girl! It was a cruel test, but Santan
+knew how to be cruel. He said he'd fix me, and I guess he has done it."
+
+"Oh no, Bev. You are good for a century," I declared, affectionately,
+holding his head on my knee.
+
+"Little Blue Flower managed, somehow, to fool the Apache dog, and we
+escaped and got away to her people," Beverly continued, speaking more
+slowly, "then she sent word to Father Josef. But the Hopi folks were
+scared about the Apaches coming against them on account of harboring
+me, like a Jonah, among 'em; and they were going to make it hard for
+Little Blue Flower. I don't know heathen ethics in such things, but a
+handful of us had to cut for it. I'm no deserter, though. Don't forget
+that. As soon as I could be sure the little Indian woman's life was safe
+I was going to get away and come home. I could not leave her to be
+sacrificed after she had saved me from Santan's scalping-knife."
+
+Beverly paused and looked at us. His voice seemed weaker when he spoke
+again:
+
+"I thought, sometimes, that even if I wasn't to blame for it, I ought to
+take Little Blue Flower with me when I got away. Dear little girl! she
+gave me one smile and whispered _'Lolomi'_ before she went just now. I
+told her long ago I was just everybody's friend. I never meant to spoil
+anybody's life, and I can meet her down at the end of the trail and
+never fear."
+
+Just then a half-wailing, half-purring cry came from Aunty Boone, who
+was standing beside a gnarled cypress-tree.
+
+"I knowed the morning we picked up Little Blue Flower, back at Pawnee
+Rock, we was pickin' up trouble for the rest of the trail. I see it
+then. You can trust a nigger 'cause they never no 'count, but you don't
+know what you gettin' when you trust an Indian. But, Cla'nden, that
+Apache Indian, Santan, ain't goin' to trouble you no more. When the
+world ain't no fit place for folks they needs helpin' out of it, and I
+sees to it they gets it, too. Whoo-ee!" She paused and leaned against
+the crooked cypress. Half turning her face toward us, she continued in a
+clear, soft voice:
+
+"That man they call Ramero down in Santy Fee--I knowed him when he was
+just Fred Ramer back in the rice-fields country. His father, old man
+Ramer, tried to kill me once, 'cause he said I knowed too much. I helped
+him into kingdom come right then and saved a lot of misery. They blamed
+some other folks, I guess, but they never hunted me up at all. Good-by,
+Clan'den, and you, too, Felix, and Dick Verra. I've knowed you all these
+years, but nobody takes no 'count of niggers' knowin's. Good-by, Little
+Lees, and all you boys. I'll see you again pretty soon, I'm goin' back
+to my desset now. It's over yonder just a little way. Jondo--but you
+won't be John Doe then. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Aunty Boone slowly settled down beside the cypress, with her face toward
+her beloved "desset," and when we went to her a little later, her eyes,
+still looking eastward, saw nothing earthly any more forever.
+
+Jondo's face seemed glorified as he caught Aunty Boone's last words, and
+his voice was sweet and clear as he looked up at Eloise bending over
+him.
+
+"Thank God! It is all made right at last. Eloise, the charge of murder
+against your father's name would have broken the heart of the woman that
+I always loved--your mother. One of us had to bear the shame. I took the
+guilt on myself for her sake--and for yours. I have walked the trails
+of my life a nameless man, but I have kept my soul clean in God's sight,
+and I know His name will soon be written on my forehead over there."
+
+He gazed out toward the glorious beauty of the view beyond him, then
+closed his eyes, and, bravely as he had lived, so bravely he went forth
+on the Long Trail, leaving a name sweet with the perfume of
+self-sacrifice and love.
+
+We did not speak of him to Beverly, for our boy had suddenly grown
+restless, and his blood was threshing furiously in his veins, and he was
+in pain, but only briefly.
+
+Presently he said, "Let us be alone a little." The others drew away.
+
+"Lean down, Gail. I want to tell you something." He smiled sweetly upon
+me as I bent over him.
+
+"I tried to tell you back on the Smoky Hill, but I'd promised not to.
+And honor was something to me still. But I'm going pretty soon. So
+listen! I loved Eloise always--always. But she never cared for me. She
+was only my good chum. I've been too happy-hearted all my days, though,
+Gail, to make a cross of anything that would break me down. Men differ
+so, you know, and I never was a dreamer like you. Turn me a little,
+won't you, so that I can see that awful beauty down there."
+
+I lifted his shoulders gently and placed him where his eyes could rest
+on the majestic scene spread out before him.
+
+"Eloise loves you, but she thinks you would not marry her because they
+say her father was a murderer. I don't believe that, Gail. I told her
+that you didn't, either, not one little minute. You care for her, I
+know, and losing her will break your heart. I tried to tell you long
+ago, but Little Lees made me promise not to say a word that night at
+Burlingame when you had gone away and I thought maybe I had a
+half-chance with her. Tell me you'll make her happy, Gail."
+
+"Oh, Beverly, I'll do my best," I murmured, softly.
+
+"Come closer, Gail. Look at those colors there. Is it so far across, or
+only seeming so? And see the soft white clouds drop purple shadows down.
+Is that the way the trail runs? How beautiful it must be farther on.
+Good-by, old boy of my heart's heart, and don't forget, however long the
+years, and wide away your feet may go, to keep the old trail law. 'Hold
+fast.'"
+
+We laid them away in the deep pine forest--Aunty Boone, of strange,
+prophetic vision; Santan, the cruel Indian; the loyal Hopi maiden; Jondo
+and Beverly. God made them all and in His heaven they will be rightly
+placed.
+
+Beside the cañon's rim, in the soft twilight hour of that October day,
+Eloise St. Vrain and I plighted our troth, till death us do part--for
+just a little while. Plighted it not in happy, selfish affection, such
+as youth and maiden give, sometimes, each to each; but in the deep,
+marvelous love of man and woman pledged where, in sacred moments on
+that day, we had seen the mortal put on immortality. To us there could
+be no grander, richer, lovelier setting for life's best and holiest hour
+than here, where, upon things finite, there rests the beneficent
+uplifting beauty that shadows forth the Infinite.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+  The heart that's never old! Oh the heart that's never old!--
+  'Tis a vision of the lavender, the crimson and the gold
+  Of an airy, fairy morning, when the sky is all ablaze
+  With an ever-changing splendor, driving back the gloom and haze!
+
+  'Tis the vision of an orchard in the balmy month of May,
+  Where the birds are ever singing, and the leaves are ever gay;
+  Where the sun is ever shining with a glory never told,
+  And the trees are ever blooming--for the heart that's never old!
+
+   --JAMES E. HILKEY.
+
+
+The summers and winters of fifty golden years have brought to the plains
+their balmy breezes and blazing heat, their soft, life-giving showers,
+and their fierce, blizzard anger. And down through these fifty years
+Eloise St. Vrain and I have walked the love trails of the plains
+together.
+
+In the early spring of this, our "golden-wedding" year, we sat on the
+veranda of our suburban home in Kansas City, above the picturesque Cliff
+Drive, rippling with automobiles. The same drive winds in its course
+somewhere near the old, rough road that once led from the Clarenden
+home, above the valley of the Kaw, down to the little city of great
+promise--now fulfilled.
+
+"Eloise, youth may have a charm that is all its own," I said to my wife,
+"but I wonder if it really matches the enduring charm of age when one
+looks back on busy years of service."
+
+Eloise smiled up at me--the same gracious smile that has lighted all my
+days with her.
+
+"You are a dreamer still, Gail. But dreams do so sweeten life and keep
+the fires of romance forever burning."
+
+"When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked.
+
+"I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door of the
+old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you looking like a big,
+brown bob-cat, or something else, that might have slept in the Hondo
+'Royo all your life. But withal a boy so loyal to the helpless that you
+were willing to fight for me against an assailant bigger than yourself.
+You became my prince in that hour, and all my dreams since then have
+been of you. When did romance begin with you, or have you forgotten in
+the busy years of a life swallowed up in mercantile pursuits?"
+
+"My life may have been, as you say, swallowed up in building trade that
+builds empire, but I have never forgotten the things that make it fine
+to me," I answered her. "Romance for me began one day, long ago, out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I've been a Vanguard of the
+Plains since then, bull-whacker for the ox-teams that hauled the
+commerce of the West; cavalryman in hard-wearing Indian campaigns that
+defended the frontier; and merchant, giving measure for measure always,
+like that grand man who taught me the worth of business--Esmond
+Clarenden."
+
+"On the parade-ground? How there?" Eloise asked.
+
+"It came the day that I first knew we were to go with Uncle Esmond to
+Santa Fé--for you. We didn't know that it was for you then. I think I
+was born again that day into a daring plainsman, who had been a sort of
+baby-boy before. I sat with Mat and Beverly on the edge of the
+parade-ground, when I looked up to see, with a boy's day-dreaming eyes,
+somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, a vision of a cloud of
+golden hair about a sweet child face, with dark eyes looking into mine.
+That vision stayed with me until, one morning, fifty years ago, on the
+rim of the Grand Cañon--you looked into my eyes again and I knew my life
+dream had come true."
+
+I rose and, bending over my wife's cloud of beautiful silvery hair, I
+kissed her gently on each fair cheek.
+
+"Gail, why not take the old trail for our golden-wedding anniversary--a
+long journey, clear to the mountains?" Eloise suggested.
+
+"There is no trail now; only its ghost haunting the way," I replied,
+"but, Little Lees, I don't believe that we who look back on so many
+happy years, after the stormy ones of early life, could find any other
+path half so dear to us as that long path we knew in childhood and early
+youth, and the one we followed together in our first years of mature
+womanhood and manhood."
+
+And so we did not celebrate one October day with all of our children and
+grandchildren and friends coming to offer us gold coins, gold-headed
+canes--which I do not use--and gold-rimmed glasses for eyes that see
+farther and clearer than my spectacled grandsons at the university can
+see to-day. We made a golden summer of the thing and followed where,
+like a will-o'-the-wisp of memory, the Santa Fé Trail of threescore
+years ago reached from the raw frontier at Independence on to the
+Missouri bluffs, clear to the sunny valley of the Holy Faith.
+
+Only a headstone at long intervals shows the way now--a stone that well
+might read:
+
+     Here ran the old Santa Fé Trail. This stone, set here, is sacred to
+     the memory of the Vanguards of the Plains who followed it.
+
+They stand, these "markers" now, on hilltops and in deep valleys; by
+country crossroads and where main streets cut each other in the towns
+and villages. They ornament the city parks, they show where splendid
+concrete bridges, re-enforced with structural steel, span streams that
+once the ox-teams doubled and trebled strength to ford. They gleam where
+corn grows tall and black on fertile prairies; where seas of wheat have
+flooded barren, burning plains, and perfumey alfalfa sweetens the air
+above what was once grassless desolation. They whisper of a day gone by
+among the silent mountains, where tunnels let the iron trail run easily
+under the old trail's dizzy path. They nestle in the shadows of
+gray-green cliffs and by red mesa heights; until the last monument,
+sacred to the memory of a day forgotten, speaks at the corner of the old
+Plaza in the heart of Santa Fé.
+
+That was a journey long to be remembered--the long, golden-wedding
+journey of Gail Clarenden with his wife, Eloise St. Vrain, and all of it
+was sweet with memories of other days. Not in peril and privation and
+uncertainty did we follow the trail now. The Pullman has replaced the
+Conestoga wagon, dainty viands the coarse food smoke-blackened over
+camp-fires, and never fear of Kiowa nor Comanche broke our slumber. The
+long shriek that cuts the air of dawn was not from wild marauders on a
+daybreak raid down lonely cañons, but from the throats of splendid,
+steel-wrought engines swinging forth upon their solid, certain course.
+
+The prairies still lap up to the edges of the little town of Burlingame,
+whose main street is still the old trail's path. The well has long since
+disappeared from the center of the place. Where once the thirsty
+gathered here to drink, there stands a monument sacred to the memory of
+the old trail days. And sacred, too, to the memory of the one
+far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger Thompson, who first conceived the
+thought of marking for the coming generations the course of commerce
+that built up the West in years gone by.
+
+We never lived in Burlingame, where once--a heart-hungry little boy--I
+longed to have a home. But the Krane children and their children's
+children still make it an abiding-place for us.
+
+To Council Grove, and old Pawnee Rock, the Cimarron Crossing of the
+Arkansas River, the open plain about the site of old Fort Bent--where
+only ghosts of walls and the court remain, and on to Santa Fé, dreamy
+and picturesque--hoary with age, and sweet with sacred memories, we
+wandered on our golden-wedding trail.
+
+The name of Narveo in New Mexico still stands for gentleman. The old
+church of San Miguel still shelters troubled hearts, and in the San
+Christobal valley the Pictured Rocks still build up a rude stair for
+feet that still may need the sanctuary rim of safety set about them.
+Along the length of the old trail a marvelous fifty years have enriched
+a history whose epic days record the deeds of vanguards, who foreran and
+builded for the softer days of golden-wedding years.
+
+The last lap of all that wondrous journey bore us in ease and comfort
+beyond the desert--the Africa, of Aunty Boone's weird fancy--to the
+Grand Cañon of the Colorado. Here, as of old, the riven crust, in its
+eternal silence, and sublimity, and beauty indescribable, calmly, year
+by year, reveals its mighty purpose:
+
+    To quarry the heart of earth,
+        Till, in the rock's red rise,
+      Its age and birth, through an awful girth
+      Of strata, should show the wonder-worth
+        Of patience to all eyes.
+
+Amid luxurious surroundings we lived the October days upon the cañon's
+rim, where, half a century ago, we had gone in hardship and looked on
+tragedy. We crept down all the dizzy lengths to the very heart of it,
+and ate and slept in easy comfort, and gazed upward at the sky-cleaving
+edges thousands of feet above us; we stood beside the raging Colorado
+River, which no man had explored when we first looked upon it here. In
+the serene hours of our sunset years we went back in memory over the
+long way our feet had come. Life is easy for us now, made so by all the
+splendid, simple forces of those who, in justice, honesty, and broad
+human sympathy build enduring empire. Not empire gained by bomb and
+liquid fire, defended by sharp entanglement and cross-trenched to shut
+out enemies; but empire builded on the commerce of the land, value for
+value; empire of bridged rivers, quick transportation on steel-marked
+trails that girdle harvest fields and fruitful pastures; empire of homes
+and schools and sacred shrines.
+
+Our fifty golden years have seen such empire rise and grow before our
+eyes, made great by thrift and business sense, swayed by the Golden
+Rule. An empire rich in love and sweet romance and thrilling deeds of
+courage and self-sacrifice. Glad am I to have been a vanguard of its
+trails upon the Kansas prairies and the far Western plains, sure now, as
+always down the years, that its old law is still a righteous one: To
+that which is good--
+
+"HOLD FAST."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+SIR GILBERT PARKER
+
+_THE WORLD FOR SALE_
+_THE MONEY MASTER_
+_THE JUDGMENT HOUSE_
+_THE RIGHT OF WAY_
+_THE LADDER OF SWORDS_
+_THE WEAVERS_
+_THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG_
+_WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC_
+_THE LANE THAT HAD NO TURNING_
+_NORTHERN LIGHTS_
+_PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE_
+_AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH_
+_A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS_
+_CUMNER'S SON, AND OTHER_
+_SOUTH SEA FOLK_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+MARGARET DELAND
+
+
+_THE RISING TIDE. Illustrated_
+_AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated_
+_THE COMMON WAY. 16mo_
+_DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated_
+_AN ENCORE. Illustrated_
+_GOOD FOR THE SOUL. Illustrated_
+_THE HINDS OF ESAU. Illustrated_
+_THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated_
+_THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated_
+_OLD CHESTER TILES. Illustrated_
+_PARTNERS. Illustrated_
+_R.J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated_
+_THE VOICE. Illustrated_
+_THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated_
+_WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Illustrated_
+
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+NOVELS OF
+
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+The New Thin-Paper Edition of the greatest living English novelist is
+issued in two bindings: Red Limp-Leather and Red Flexible Cloth, 12mo.
+Frontispiece in each volume.
+
+
+_DESPERATE REMEDIES
+FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD
+A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES
+THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA
+JUDE THE OBSCURE
+A LAODICEAN
+LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES
+THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE
+A PAIR OF BLUE EYES
+THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE
+TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES
+THE TRUMPET MAJOR
+TWO ON A TOWER
+UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE
+THE WELL-BELOVED
+WESSEX TALES
+THE WOODLANDERS_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+RECENT BOOKS OF TRAVEL
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_IN VACATION AMERICA_ By HARRISON RHODES
+
+_In this book of leisurely wanderings the author journeys among the
+various holiday resorts of the United States from Maine to Atlantic
+City, Newport, Bar Harbor, the Massachusetts beaches, Long Island Sound,
+the Great Lakes, Niagara, ever-young Greenbriar White and other Virginia
+Springs, Saratoga, White Mountains, the winter resorts of Florida, the
+Carolinas and California._ Illustrated in Color
+
+
+_ALONG NEW ENGLAND ROADS_
+
+By WILLIAM C. PRIME
+
+_All those who are on the lookout for an unusual way to spend a vacation
+will find suggestions here. This book of leisurely travel in New
+Hampshire and Vermont has been reprinted to meet the demand for a work
+that has never failed to charm since its first publication more than a
+decade ago._ Illustrated
+
+
+_AUSTRALIAN BYWAYS_ By NORMAN DUNCAN
+
+_In this book the author gives a chatty account of his trip along the
+outskirts of Australian civilization. The big cities were merely passed
+through, and the journeying was principally by stage-coach, on
+camel-back, or by small coastal steamers from Western Australia to New
+Guinea._ Illustrated in Tint
+
+
+_CALIFORNIA: An Intimate History_
+
+By GERTRUDE ATHERTON
+
+_The California of to-day and the California of yesterday with its
+picturesque story, are set forth in this book by the one writer who
+could bring to it the skill united with that love for the task of a
+Californian-born, Gertrude Atherton. This story of California covers the
+varied history of the state from its earliest geological beginnings down
+to the California of 1915._ Illustrated
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 13345-8.txt or 13345-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/3/4/13345/
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/13345-8.zip b/old/13345-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32d296d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-8.zip
diff --git a/old/13345-h.zip b/old/13345-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..594a302
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-h.zip
diff --git a/old/13345-h/13345-h.htm b/old/13345-h/13345-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bef8b7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-h/13345-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,12460 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+
+<html>
+<head>
+  <meta name="generator" content=
+  "HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st August 2004), see www.w3.org">
+  <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+  "text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1">
+  <meta name="GENERATOR" content="Microsoft FrontPage 4.0">
+  <meta name="ProgId" content="FrontPage.Editor.Document">
+
+  <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Vanguards of the Plains by
+  Margaret Hill McCarter.</title>
+<style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p            { text-align: justify; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em }
+table        { border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+*#col1       { border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+td           { border-style: none; border-width: medium; padding: 0em }
+h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { text-align: center }
+hr           { text-align: center; width: 50% }
+html>body hr { width: 50%; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25% }
+hr.full      { width: 100% }
+html>body hr.full { width: 100%; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0% }
+hr.short     { text-align: center; width: 20% }
+html>body hr.short { width: 20%; margin-left: 40%; margin-right: 40% }
+body         { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10% }
+img          { border-style: none; border-width: medium }
+.ctr         { text-align: center }
+.linenum     { position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4% }
+/* poetry number */
+    .note        { margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em }
+/* footnote */
+    .blkquot     { margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em }
+/* block indent */
+    .pagenum     { position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right }
+/* page numbers */
+    .sidenote    { width: 20%; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em;
+               margin-bottom: 1em; padding-left: 1em }
+.poem        { text-align: left; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10% }
+.poem br     { display: none }
+.poem .stanza { margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em }
+.poem span   { display: block; text-indent: -3em; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em }
+.poem span.i2 { display: block; margin-left: 2em }
+.poem span.i4 { display: block; margin-left: 4em }
+.poem .caesura { vertical-align: -200% }
+// -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+</style>
+</head>
+
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Vanguards of the Plains
+
+Author: Margaret McCarter
+
+Release Date: August 31, 2004 [EBook #13345]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+  <br>
+
+  <h3><font size="6"><span style=
+  "font-family: 'Times New Roman'">VANGUARDS OF THE
+  PLAINS</span><br></font><br>
+  <a href="images/p001m.jpg"><img border="0" src="images/p001s.jpg"
+  alt="Cover Page Facing Art" width="182" height=
+  "277"></a><span><br></span><span><font size="3">I COULD NOT SPEAK
+  THEN, FOR ONE SENTENCE WAS RINGING IN <span>MY EARS--"I WAS
+  ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU"</span></font></span></h3>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h4><font size="6"><span>VANGUARDS OF THE
+  PLAINS</span></font></h4>
+
+  <h3><span><font size="4">A ROMANCE OF THE OLD SANTA F&Eacute;
+  TRAIL</font></span></h3>
+
+  <h4>BY</h4>
+
+  <h3><span>MARGARET HILL McCARTER</span></h3>
+
+  <h5><span><font size="3">AUTHOR OF <i>The Price of the
+  Prairie</i></font></span></h5>
+
+
+
+  <h5 align="center"><span>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON</span></h5>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h4><span>VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS</span></h4>
+
+  <h6><span>1917, Harper &amp; Brothers<br>
+  Printed in the United States of America<br>
+  </span></h6>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h2><span>DEDICATION</span></h2><span>This story of the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail would do honor to the memory of those stalwart
+  men who defied the desert, who walked the prairies boldly, and
+  who died bravely--<i>vanguards</i> in the building of a firm
+  highway for the commerce of a westward-moving Empire.</span>
+  <hr class="full">
+
+  <h3><span> <font face="Courier New" size=
+  "4">CONTENTS</font></span></h3>
+
+  <p><span><a href="#FOREWORD"><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">FOREWORD</font></a></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2">PART I<br>
+  <a href="#CLEARING">CLEARING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">I. <a href="#I">THE BEGINNINGS OF A
+  PLAINSMAN</a><br>
+  II. <a href="#II">A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN</a><br>
+  III. <a href="#III">THE WIDENING HORIZON</a><br>
+  IV. <a href="#IV">THE MAN IN THE DARK</a><br>
+  V. <a href="#V">WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST</a><br>
+  VI. <a href="#VI">SPYING OUT THE LAND</a><br>
+  VII. <a href="#VII">"SANCTUARY"</a><br>
+  VIII. <a href="#VIII">THE WILDERNESS
+  CROSSROADS</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2"><br>
+  PART II<br>
+  <a href="#BUILDING">BUILDING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">IX. <a href="#IX">IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH
+  BLOSSOM</a><br>
+  X. <a href="#X">THE HANDS THAT CLING</a><br>
+  XI. <a href="#XI">"OUR FRIENDS--THE
+  ENEMY"</a><br>
+  XII. <a href="#XII">THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE
+  PLAINS</a><br>
+  XIII. <a href="#XIII">IN THE SHELTER OF SAN
+  MIGUEL</a><br>
+  XIV. <a href="#XIV">OPENING THE RECORD</a><br>
+  XV. <a href="#XV">THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN
+  CHRISTOBAL</a><br>
+  XVI. <a href="#XVI">FINISHING TOUCHES</a><br>
+  XVII. <a href="#XVII">SWEET AND BITTER
+  WATERS</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><font face="Courier New" size="2"><span><br>
+  PART III<br>
+  <a href="#DEFENDING">DEFENDING THE
+  TRAIL</a></span></font></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size="2">XVIII.
+  <a href="#XVIII">WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN</a><br>
+  XIX. <a href="#XIX">A MAN'S PART</a><br>
+  XX. <a href="#XX">GONE OUT</a><br>
+  XXI. <a href="#XXI">IN THE SHADOW OF THE
+  INFINITE</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p><span><font face="Courier New" size="2"><br>
+  PART IV<br>
+  <a href="#REMEMBERING">REMEMBERING THE
+  TRAIL</a></font></span></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span><font face="Courier New" size=
+  "2">XXII. <a href="#XXII">THE GOLDEN
+  WEDDING</a></font></span>  </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><span><a name="FOREWORD" id=
+  "FOREWORD">FOREWORD</a></span></h3> <span>Westward,
+  along the level prairies of a kingdom yet to be, my memory runs,
+  with a clear vision of the days when romance died not and strong
+  hearts never failed. The glamour of the plains is before my eyes;
+  the tingle of courage, danger-born, is in my pulse-beat; the soft
+  hand of love is touching my hand. I live again the drama of life
+  wherein there are no idle actors, no stale, unmeaning lines. And
+  beyond the action, this way <i>up</i> the years, there runs also
+  the forward-gazing vision toward a new Hesperides:</span>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"> Through the
+  veins<span><br>
+   </span> Of whose vast Empire flows, in strength'ning
+  tides,<span><br>
+   </span> Trade, the calm health of nations.</p>
+
+  <p class="ctr">  <font size=
+  "5"> *
+  * *
+  * *</font></p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><span>And sometimes I would doubt</span><br>
+    If statesmen, rocked and dandled into power,<span><br>
+   </span> Could leave such legacies to kings.</p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3>I<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="CLEARING" id="CLEARING">CLEARING THE TRAIL</a><br>
+  <br>
+  VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS<br>
+  <br>
+  A ROMANCE OF THE SANTA F&Eacute; TRAIL<br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="I" id="I">I</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    There came a time in the law of life<br>
+      When over the nursing sod<br>
+    The shadows broke, and the soul awoke<br>
+      In a strange, dim dream of God.<br>
+         --LANGDON SMITH.</p>
+
+  <p>It might have been but yesterday that I saw it all: the
+  glinting sunlight on the yellow Missouri boiling endlessly along
+  at the foot of the bluff; the flood-washed sands across the
+  river; the tangle of tall, coarse weeds fringing them, edged by
+  the scrubby underbrush. And beyond that the big trees of the
+  Missouri woodland, so level against the eastern horizon that I
+  used to wonder if I might not walk upon their solid-looking tops
+  if I could only reach them. I wondered, too, why the trees on our
+  side of the river should vary so in height when those in the
+  eastern distance were so evenly grown. One day I had asked Jondo
+  the reason for this, and had learned that it was because of the
+  level ground on the farther side of the valley. I began then to
+  love the level places of the earth. I love them still. And,
+  always excepting that one titanic rift, where the world stands
+  edgewise, with the sublimity of the Almighty shimmering through
+  its far depths, I love them more than any other thing that nature
+  has yet offered to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  But to come back to that picture of yesterday: old Fort
+  Leavenworth on the bluff; the little and big ravines that billow
+  the landscape about it; the faint lines of trails winding along
+  the hillsides toward the southwest; the unclouded skies so
+  everlastingly big and intensely blue; and, hanging like a spray
+  of glorious blossoms flung high above me, the swaying folds of
+  the wind-caressed flag, now drooping on its tall staff, now
+  swelling full and free, straight from its gripping halyards.<br>
+  <br>
+  Between me and the fort many people were passing to and fro, some
+  of whom were to walk with me down the long trail of years.
+  Evermore that April day stands out as the beginning of things for
+  me. Dim are the days behind it, a jumble of happy childish hours,
+  each keen enough as the things of childhood go; but from that one
+  day to the present hour the unforgotten deeds of busy years run
+  clearly in my memory as I lift my pen to write somewhat of their
+  dramatic record.<br>
+  <br>
+  And that this may not seem all a backward gaze, let me face about
+  and look forward from the beginning--a stretch of canvas, lurid
+  sometimes, sometimes in glorious tinting, sometimes intensely
+  dark, with rifts of lightning cleaving through its blackness. But
+  nowhere dull, nowhere without design in every brush-stroke.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had gone out on the bluff to watch for the big fish that Bill
+  Banney, a young Kentuckian over at the fort, had told me were to
+  be seen only on those April days when the Missouri was running
+  north instead of south. And that when little boys kept very
+  still, the fish would come out of the water and play leap-frog on
+  the sand-bars.<br>
+  <br>
+  If I failed to see them this morning, I meant to run back to the
+  parade-ground and play leap-frog myself with my cousin Beverly,
+  who wanted proof for most of Bill Banney's stories. Beverly was
+  growing wise and lanky for his age. I was still chubby, and in
+  most things innocent, and inclined to believe all that I heard,
+  or I should not have been taken in by that fish story.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were orphans with no recollection of any other home than the
+  log house near the fort. We had been fathered and mothered by our
+  uncle, Esmond Clarenden, owner of the little store across the
+  square from our house, and a larger establishment down at
+  Independence on the Missouri River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Always a wonderful man to me was that Esmond Clarenden, product
+  of one of the large old New England colleges. He found time to
+  guard our young years with the same diplomatic system by which he
+  controlled all of his business affairs. He laid his plans
+  carefully and never swerved from carrying them through afterward;
+  he insisted on order in everything; he rendered value for value
+  in his contracts; he chose his employees carefully, and trusted
+  them fully; he had a keen sense of humor, a genial spirit of
+  good-will, and he loved little children. Fitted as he was by
+  culture and genius to have entered into the greater opportunities
+  of the Eastern States, he gave himself to the real up-building of
+  the West, and in the larger comfort and prosperity and peace of
+  the Kansas prairies of to-day his soul goes marching on.<br>
+  <br>
+  The waters, as I watched them, were all running south toward that
+  vague, down-stream world shut off by trees at a bend of the
+  course. I waited a long time there for the current to shift to
+  the north, wondering meanwhile about those level-topped forests,
+  and what I might see beyond them if I were sitting on their flat
+  crests. And, as I wondered, the first dim sense of being <i>shut
+  in</i> came filtering through my childish consciousness. I could
+  not cross the river. Big as my playground had always been, I had
+  never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff up-stream, nor
+  down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the southwest. What
+  lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and again. I
+  had been a dreamer all of my short life, and this new feeling of
+  being shut in, held back, from something slipped upon me
+  easily.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat on the bluff in the April sunshine, I turned my face
+  toward the west and stretched out my chubby arms for larger
+  freedom. I wanted to <i>see the open level places</i>, wanted
+  till it hurt me. I could cry easily enough for some things. I
+  could not cry for this. It was too deep for tears to reach.
+  Moreover, this new longing seemed to drop down on me suddenly and
+  overwhelm me, until I felt almost as if I were caught in a
+  net.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I stared with half-seeing eyes toward the wooded ravines
+  beyond the fort, suddenly through the budding branches I caught
+  sight of a horseman riding down a half-marked trail into a deep
+  hollow. Horsemen were common enough to forget in a moment, but
+  when this one reappeared on the hither side of the ravine, I saw
+  that the rider's face was very dark, that his dress, from the
+  sombrero to the spurred heel, was Mexican, and that he was
+  heavily armed, even for a plainsman. When he reached the top of
+  the bluff he made straight across the square toward my uncle
+  Esmond Clarenden's little storehouse, and I lost sight of
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Something about him seemed familiar to me, for the gift of
+  remembering faces was mine, even then. A fleeting childish memory
+  called up such a face and dress somewhere back in the dim days of
+  babyhood, with the haunting sound of a low, musical voice,
+  speaking in the soft Castilian tongue.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the memory vanished and I sat a long time gazing at the
+  wooded west that hid the open West of my day-dreams.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly Jondo came riding up on his big black horse to the very
+  edge of the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are such a little mite, I nearly forgot to see you," he
+  called, cheerily. "Your Uncle Esmond wants you right away. Mat
+  Nivers, or somebody else, sent me to run you down," he added,
+  leaning over to lift me up to a seat on the horse behind him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Few handsomer men ever graced a saddle. Big, broad-shouldered,
+  muscular, yet agile, a head set like a Greek statue, and a
+  face--nobody could ever make a picture of Jondo's face for
+  me--the curling brown hair, soft as a girl's, the broad forehead,
+  deep-set blue eyes, heavy dark brow, cheeks always ruddy through
+  the plain's tan, strong white teeth, firm square chin, and a
+  smile like sunshine on the gray prairies. Eyes, lips, teeth--aye,
+  the big heart behind them--all made that smile. No grander prince
+  of men ever rode the trails or dared the dangers of the untamed
+  West. I did not know his story for many years. I wish I might
+  never have known it. But as he began with me, so he ended--brave,
+  beloved old Jondo!<br>
+  <br>
+  Down on the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden and Mat Nivers were
+  sitting with their feet crossed under them, tailor fashion,
+  facing each other and talking earnestly. Over by the fort, Esmond
+  Clarenden stood under a big elm-tree. A round little, stout
+  little man he was, whose sturdy strength and grace of bearing
+  made up for his lack of height. Like a great green tent the
+  boughs of the elm, just budding into leaf, drooped over him. A
+  young army officer on a cavalry horse was talking with him as we
+  came up.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Run over there to Beverly now. Gail," my uncle said, with a wave
+  of his hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was always in awe of shoulder-straps, so I scampered away
+  toward the children. But not until, child-like, I had stared at
+  the three men long enough to take a child's lasting estimate of
+  things.<br>
+  <br>
+  I carry still the keen impression of that moment when I took,
+  unconsciously, the measure of the three: the mounted army man,
+  commander of the fort, big in his official authority and force;
+  Jondo on his great black horse, to me the heroic type of
+  chivalric courage; and between the two, Esmond Clarenden,
+  unmounted, with feet firmly planted, suggesting nothing heroic,
+  nothing autocratic. And yet, as he stood there, square-built,
+  solid, certain, he seemed in some dim way to be the real man of
+  whom the other two were but shadows. It took a quarter of a
+  century for me to put into words what I learned with one glance
+  that day in my childhood.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I came running toward the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden
+  called out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come here, Gail! Shut your little mouth and open your big ears,
+  and I'll tell you something. Maybe I'd better not tell you all at
+  once, though. It might make you dizzy," he added, teasingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And maybe you better had," Mat Nivers said, calmly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe you'd better tell him yourself, if you feel that way,"
+  Beverly retorted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess I'll do that," Mat began, with a twinkle in her big gray
+  eyes; but my cousin interrupted her.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly loved to tease Mat through me, but he never got far, for
+  I relied on her to curb him; and she was not one to be ruffled by
+  trifles. Mat was an orphan and, like ourselves, a ward of Esmond
+  Clarenden, but there were no ties of kinship between us. She was
+  three years older than Beverly, and although she was no taller
+  than he, she seemed like a woman to me, a keen-witted,
+  good-natured child-woman, neat, cleanly, and contented. I wonder
+  if many women get more out of life in these days of luxurious
+  comforts than she found in the days of frontier hardships.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, it's this way, Gail. Mat doesn't know the straight of it,"
+  Beverly began, dramatically. "There's going to be a war, or
+  something, in Mexico, or somewhere, and a lot of soldiers are
+  coming here to drill, and drill, and drill. And then--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy paused for effect.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And then, and then, <i>and</i> then--or some time," Mat Nivers
+  mimicked, jumping into the pause. "Why, they'll go to Mexico, or
+  somewhere. And what Bev is really trying to tell hasn't anything
+  to do with it--not directly, anyhow," she added, wisely. "The
+  only new thing is that Uncle Esmond is going to Santa F&eacute;
+  right away. You know he has bought goods of the Santa F&eacute;
+  traders since we couldn't remember. And now he's going down there
+  himself, and he's going to take you boys with him. That's what
+  Bev is trying to get out, or keep back."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Whoopee-diddle-dee!" Beverly shouted, throwing himself backward
+  and kicking up his heels.<br>
+  <br>
+  I jumped up and capered about in glee at the thought of such a
+  journey. But my heart-throb of childish delight was checked,
+  mid-beat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Won't Mat go, too?" I asked, with a sudden pain at my throat.
+  Mat Nivers was a part of life to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  The smile fell away from the girl's lips. Her big, sunshiny gray
+  eyes and her laughing good nature always made her beautiful to
+  Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't want to go and leave Mat," I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I do," Beverly declared, boastingly. "It would be real nice
+  and jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out
+  on the prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were
+  shooting Indians?"<br>
+  <br>
+  He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and
+  arrow. But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered
+  a sob.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden,
+  and, besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo,
+  and I reckon he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of
+  the orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the
+  championship of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond
+  Clarenden, who said little to children, and was instinctively
+  trusted by all of them.<br>
+  <br>
+  With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes.
+  It was never lost from them long at a time.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, you keep <i>your</i> little mouth shut and
+  <i>your</i> big ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the
+  whole sheboodle better 'n any of you, and I'm not teasing and
+  whimpering both at the same time, neither. Bev doesn't know
+  anything except what I've told him, and I wasn't through when you
+  got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war in Texas, and our
+  soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look up at that
+  flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars and
+  Stripes go they <i>stay</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied,
+  pulling down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond
+  hasn't anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he
+  has been doing here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a
+  merchant, and I guess he's just about as good as a general--a
+  colonel, anyhow. But he's too short to fight, and too fat to
+  run."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men
+  that keeps things going everywhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
+  straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he
+  came here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war
+  in Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa F&eacute;,
+  even if Uncle Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all
+  a girl knows about things," Beverly insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked straight at the boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't pretend to know what I don't know, but I'll bet a
+  million billion dollars there is something else besides just all
+  this war stuff. I can't tell it, I just feel it. Anyhow, I'm to
+  stay here with Aunty Boone till you come back. Girls can be
+  trusted anywhere, but it may take the whole Army of the West,
+  yet, to follow up and look after two little runty boys. And let
+  me tell <i>you</i> something, Bev, something I heard Aunty Boone
+  say this morning." She said: "Taint goin' to be more 'n a minnit
+  now till them boys grows up an' grows together, same size, same
+  age. They been little and big, long as they goin' to be. Now you
+  know what you're coming to."<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat was digging in the ground with a stick, and she flipped a
+  clod at Beverly with the last words. Both of us had once expected
+  to marry her when we grew up, unless Jondo should carry her away
+  as his bride before that time. He was a dozen years older than
+  Mat, who was only fourteen and small for her age. A flush always
+  came to her cheeks when we talked of Jondo in that way. We didn't
+  know why.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat silent for a little while. A vague sense of desolateness,
+  of the turning-places of life, as real to children as to older
+  folk, seemed to press suddenly down upon all three of us. Ours
+  was not the ordinary child-life even of that day. And that was a
+  time when children had no world of their own as they have to-day.
+  Whatever developed men and women became a part of the younger
+  life training as well. And while we were ignorant of much that
+  many children then learned early, for we had lived mostly beside
+  the fort on the edge of the wilderness, we were alert, and
+  self-dependent, fearless and far-seeing. We could use tools
+  readily: we could build fires and prepare game for cooking; we
+  could climb trees, set traps, swim in the creek, and ride horses.
+  Moreover, we were bound to one another by the force of isolation
+  and need for playmates. Our imagination supplied much that our
+  surroundings denied us. So we felt more deeply, maybe, than many
+  city-bred children who would have paled with fear at dangers that
+  we only laughed over.<br>
+  <br>
+  No ripple in the even tenor of our days, however, had given any
+  hint of the coming of this sudden tense oppression on our young
+  souls, and we were stunned by what we could neither express nor
+  understand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Whatever comes or doesn't come," Beverly said at last,
+  stretching himself at full length, stomach downward, on the bare
+  ground, "whatever happens to us, we three will stand by each
+  other always and always, won't we, Mat?"<br>
+  <br>
+  He lifted his face to the girl's. Oh, Beverly! I saw him again
+  one day down the years, stretched out on the ground like this,
+  lifting again a pleading face. But that belongs--down the
+  years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, always and always," Mat replied, and then because she had a
+  Spartan spirit, she added: "But let's don't say any more that
+  way. Let's think of what you are going to see--the plains, the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail, the mountains, and maybe bad Indians. And
+  even old Santa F&eacute; town itself. You are in for 'the big
+  shift,' as Aunty Boone says, and you've got to be little men and
+  take whatever comes. It will come fast enough, you can bet on
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  Yesterday I might have sobbed on her shoulder. I did not know
+  then that out on the bluff an hour ago I had come to the first
+  turn in my life-trail, and that I could not look back now. I did
+  know that I <i>wanted to go with Uncle Esmond</i>. I looked away
+  from Mat's gray eyes, and Beverly's head dropped on his arms,
+  face downward--looked at nothing but blue sky, and a graceful
+  drooping flag; nothing but a half-sleepy, half-active fort;
+  nothing but the yellow April floods far up-stream, between wooded
+  banks tenderly gray-green in the spring sunshine. But I did not
+  see any of these things then. Before my eyes there stretched a
+  vast level prairie, with dim mountain heights beyond them. And
+  marching toward them westward, westward, past lurking danger,
+  Indians here and wild beasts there, went three men: the officer
+  on his cavalry mount; Jondo on his big black horse; Esmond
+  Clarenden, neither mounted nor on foot, it seemed, but going
+  forward somehow. And between these three and the misty mountain
+  peaks there was a face--not Mat Nivers's, for the first time in
+  all my day-dreams--a sweet face with dark eyes looking straight
+  into mine. And plainly then, just as plainly as I have heard it
+  many times since then, came a call--the first clear bugle-note of
+  the child-soul--a call to service, to patriotism, and to
+  love.<br>
+  <br>
+  All that afternoon while Mat Nivers sang about her tasks Beverly
+  and I tried to play together among the elm and cottonwood trees
+  about our little home, but evening found us wide awake and
+  moping. Instead of the two tired little sleepy-heads that could
+  barely finish supper, awake, when night came, we lay in our
+  trundle-bed, whispering softly to each other and staring at the
+  dark with tear-wet eyes--our spiritual barometers warning us of a
+  coming change. Something must have happened to us that night
+  which only the retrospect of years revealed. In that hour Beverly
+  Clarenden lost a year of his life and I gained one. From that
+  time we were no longer little and big to each other--we were
+  comrades.<br>
+  <br>
+  It must have been nearly midnight when I crept out of bed and
+  slipped into the big room where Uncle Esmond and Jondo sat by the
+  fireplace, talking together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Hello, little night-hawk! Come here and roost," Jondo said,
+  opening his arms to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I slid into their embrace and snuggled my head against his broad
+  shoulder, listening to all that was said. Three months later the
+  little boy had become a little man, and my cuddling days had
+  given place to the self-reliance of the fearless youngster of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why do you make this trip now, Esmond?" Jondo asked at length,
+  looking straight into my uncle's face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to get down there right now because I want to get a grip
+  on trade conditions. I can do better after the war if I do. It
+  won't last long, and we are sure to take over a big piece of
+  ground there when it is over. And when that is settled commerce
+  must do the real building-up of the country. I want to be a part
+  of that thing and grow with it. Why do you go with me?"<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle looked directly at Jondo, although he asked the question
+  carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To help you cross the plains. You know the redskins get worse
+  every trip," Jondo answered, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared at both of them until Jondo said, laughingly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You little owl, what are you thinking about?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think you are telling each other stories," I replied,
+  frankly.<br>
+  <br>
+  For somehow their faces made me think of Beverly's face out on
+  the parade-ground that morning, when he had lifted it and looked
+  at Mat Nivers; and their voices, deep bass as they were, sounded
+  like Beverly's voice whispering between his sobs, before he went
+  to sleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  Both men smiled and said nothing. But when I went to my bed again
+  Jondo tucked the covers about me and Uncle Esmond came and bade
+  me good night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess you have the makings of a plainsman," he said, with a
+  smile, as he patted me on the head.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The beginnings, anyhow," Jondo added. "He can see pretty far
+  already."<br>
+  <br>
+  For a long time I lay awake, thinking of all that Uncle Esmond
+  and Jondo had said to me. It is no wonder that I remember that
+  April day as if it were but yesterday. Such days come only to
+  childhood, and oftentimes when no one of older years can see
+  clearly enough to understand the bigness of their meaning to the
+  child who lives through them.<br>
+  <br>
+  All of my life I had heard stories of the East, of New York and
+  St. Louis, where there were big houses and wonderful stores. And
+  of Washington, where there was a President, and a Congress, and a
+  strange power that could fill and empty Fort Leavenworth at will.
+  I had heard of the Great Lakes, and of cotton-fields, and
+  tobacco-plantations, and sugar-camps, and ships, and steam-cars.
+  I had pictured these things a thousand times in my busy
+  imagination and had longed to see them. But from that day they
+  went out of my life-dreams. Henceforth I belonged to the prairies
+  of the West. No one but myself took account of this, nor guessed
+  that a life-trend had had its commencement in the small events of
+  one unimportant day. <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="II" id="II">II</a><br>
+  <br>
+  A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN<br></h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">  One stone the more swings to her place<br>
+      In that dread Temple of Thy worth;<br>
+    It is enough that through Thy grace<br>
+      I saw naught common on Thy earth.</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"> </p>
+
+  <p>The next morning I was wakened by the soft voice of Aunty
+  Boone, our cook, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You better get up! Revilly blow over at the fort long time ago.
+  Wonder it didn't blow your batter-cakes clear away. Mat and
+  Beverly been up since 'fore sunup."<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone was the biggest woman I have ever seen. Not the
+  tallest, maybe--although she measured up to a height of six feet
+  and two inches--not the fattest, but a woman with the biggest
+  human frame, overlaid with steel-hard muscles. Yet she was not,
+  in her way, clumsy or awkward. She walked with a free stride, and
+  her every motion showed a powerful muscular control. Her face was
+  jet-black, with keen shining eyes, and glittering white teeth. In
+  my little child-world she was the strangest creature I had ever
+  known. In the larger world whither the years of my manhood have
+  led me she holds the same place.<br>
+  <br>
+  She had been born a princess of royal blood, heir to a queenship
+  in her tribe in a far-away African kingdom. In her young
+  womanhood, so the tale ran, the slave-hunter had found her and
+  driven her aboard a slave-ship bound for the American coast. He
+  never drove another slave toward any coast. In Virginia her first
+  purchaser had sold her quickly to a Georgia planter whose
+  <i>heirs</i> sent her on to Mississippi. Thence she soon found
+  her way to the Louisiana rice-fields. Nobody came to take her
+  back to any place she had quitted. "Safety first," is not a
+  recent practice. She had enormous strength and capacity for
+  endurance, she learned rapidly, kept her own counsel, obeyed no
+  command unless she chose to do so, and feared nothing in the
+  Lord's universe. The people of her own race had little in common
+  with her. They never understood her and so they feared her. And
+  being as it were outcast by them, she came to know more of the
+  ways and customs, and even the thoughts, of the white people
+  better than of her own. Being quick to imitate, she spoke in the
+  correcter language of those whom she knew best, rather than the
+  soft, ungrammatical dialect of the plantation slave or the grunt
+  and mumble of the isolated African. Realizing that service was to
+  be her lot, she elected to render that service where and to whom
+  she herself might choose.<br>
+  <br>
+  One day she had walked into New Orleans and boarded a Mississippi
+  steamer bound for St. Louis. It took three men to eject her
+  bodily from the deck into a deep and dangerous portion of the
+  stream. She swam ashore, and when the steamer made its next stop
+  she walked aboard again. The three men being under the care of a
+  physician, and the remainder of the crew burdened with other
+  tasks, she was not again disturbed. Some time later she appeared
+  at the landing below Fort Leavenworth, and strode up the slope to
+  the deserted square where Esmond Clarenden stood before his
+  little store alone in the deepening twilight.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have heard that she had had a way of appearing suddenly, like a
+  beast of prey, in the dusk of the evening, and that few men cared
+  to meet her at that time alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle was a snug-built man, sixty-two inches high, with small,
+  shapely hands and feet. Towering above him stood this great,
+  strange creature, barefooted, ragged, half tiger, half
+  sphinx.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm hungry. I'll eat or I kill. I'm nobody's slave!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The soft voice was full of menace, the glare of famine and fury
+  was in the burning eyes, and the supple cruelty of the wild beast
+  was in the clenched hands.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden looked up at her with interest. Then pointing
+  toward our house he said, calmly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Neither are you anybody's master. Go over there to the kitchen
+  and get your supper. If you can cook good meals, I'll pay you
+  well. If you can't, you'll leave here."<br>
+  <br>
+  Possibly it was the first time in her strange and varied career
+  that she had taken a command kindly, and obeyed because she must.
+  And so the savage African princess, the terror of the terrible
+  slave-ship, the untamed plantation scourge, with a record for
+  deeds that belong to another age and social code, became the
+  great, silent, faithful, fearless servant of the plains; with us,
+  but never of us, in all the years that followed. But she fitted
+  the condition of her day, and in her place she stood, where the
+  beloved black mammy of a gentler mold would have fallen.<br>
+  <br>
+  She announced that her name was Daniel Boone, which Uncle Esmond
+  considered well enough for one of such a westward-roving nature.
+  But Jondo declared that the "Daniel" belonged to her because,
+  like unto the Bible Daniel, no lion, nor whole den of lions,
+  would ever dine at her expense. To us she became Aunty Boone.
+  With us she was always gentle--docile, rather; and one day we
+  came to know her real measure, and--we never forgot her.<br>
+  <br>
+  I bounced out of bed at her call this morning, and bounced my
+  breakfast into a healthy, good-natured stomach. The sunny April
+  of yesterday had whirled into a chilly rain, whipped along by a
+  raw wind. The skies were black and all the spring verdure was
+  turned to a sickish gray-green.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Weather always fit the times," Aunty Boone commented as she
+  heaped my plate with the fat buckwheat cakes that only she could
+  ever turn off a griddle. "You packin' up for somepin' now. What
+  you goin' to get is fo'casted in this here nasty day."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, we <i>are</i> going away!" I cried, suddenly recalling the
+  day before. "I wish, though, that Mat could go. Wouldn't you like
+  to go, too, Aunty? Only, Bev says there's deserts, where there's
+  just rocks and sand and everything, and no water sometimes. You
+  and Mat couldn't stand that 'cause you are women-folks."<br>
+  <br>
+  I stiffened with importance and clutched my knife and fork
+  hard.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Couldn't!" Aunty Boone gave a scornful grunt. "Women-folks
+  stands double more 'n men. You'll see when you get older. I know
+  about you freightin' off to Santy Fee. <i>You</i> don't know what
+  desset is. <i>You</i> never <i>see sand</i>. You never
+  <i>feel</i> what it is to <i>want watah</i>. Only folks 'cross
+  the ocean in the real desset knows that. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  I remembered the weird tales she had told us of her
+  girlhood--tales that had thrilled me with wonder--told sometimes
+  in the twilight, sometimes by the kitchen fire on winter nights,
+  sometimes on long, still, midsummer afternoons when the air
+  quivered with heat and the Missouri hung about hot sand-bars,
+  half asleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What do you know about this trip, Aunty Boone?" I asked,
+  eagerly; for although she could neither read nor write, she had a
+  sponge-like absorbing power for keeping posted on all that
+  happened at the fort.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cla'n'den"--the woman never called my uncle by any other
+  name--"he's goin' to Santy Fee, an' you boys with him,
+  'cause--"<br>
+  <br>
+  She paused and her shining eyes grew dull as they had a way of
+  doing in her thoughtful or prophetic moments.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He knows what for--him an' Jondo. One of 'em's storekeeper an'
+  t'other a plainsman, but they tote together always--an' they
+  totin' now. You can't see what, but they totin', they totin',
+  just the same. Now run out to the store. Things is stirrin'.
+  Things is stirrin'."<br>
+  <br>
+  I bolted my cakes, sodden with maple syrup, drank my mug of milk,
+  and hurried out toward the storehouse.<br>
+  <br>
+  Fort Leavenworth in the middle '40's was sometimes an indolent
+  place, and sometimes a very busy one, depending upon the activity
+  of the Western frontier. On this raw April morning everything was
+  fairly ajerk with life and motion. And I knew from
+  child-experience that a body of soldiers must be coming up the
+  river soon. Horses were rushed to-day where yesterday they had
+  been leisurely led. Orders were shouted now that had been half
+  sung a week ago. Military discipline took the place of fatigue
+  attitudes. There was a banging of doors, a swinging of brooms, a
+  clatter of tin, and a clanging of iron things. And everywhere
+  went that slapping wind. And every shallow place in the ground
+  held a chilly puddle. The government buildings always seemed big
+  and bare and cold to me. And this morning they seemed drearier
+  than ever, beaten upon by the fitful swish of the rain.<br>
+  <br>
+  In contrast with these were my uncle's snug quarters, for warmth
+  was a part of Esmond Clarenden's creed. I used to think that the
+  little storeroom, filled with such things as a frontier fort
+  could find use for, was the biggest emporium in America, and the
+  owner thereof suffered nothing, in my eyes, in comparison with
+  A.T. Stewart, the opulent New York merchant of his day.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I ran, bareheaded and coatless, across the wide wet space
+  between our home and the storehouse a soldier came dashing by on
+  horseback. I dodged behind him only to fall sprawling in a
+  slippery pool under the very feet of another horseman, riding
+  swiftly toward the boat-landing.<br>
+  <br>
+  Neither man paid any attention to me as I slowly picked myself up
+  and started toward the store. The soldier had not seen me at all.
+  The other man's face was dark, and he wore the dress of the
+  Mexican. It was only by his alertness and skill that his horse
+  missed me, but as he hurried away he gave no more heed to me than
+  if I had been a stone in his path.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had turned my ankle in the fall and I could only limp to the
+  storehouse and drop down inside. I would not cry out, but I could
+  not hold back the sobs as I tried to stand, and fell again in a
+  heap at Jondo's feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Things were stirrin'" there, as Aunty Boone had said, but withal
+  there was no disorder. Esmond Clarenden never did business in
+  that way. No loose ends flapped about his rigging, and when a
+  piece of work was finished with him, there was nothing left to
+  clear away. Bill Banney, the big grown-up boy from Kentucky, who,
+  out of love of adventure, had recently come to the fort, was
+  helping Jondo with the packing of certain goods. Mat and Beverly
+  were perched on the counter, watching all that was being done and
+  hearing all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter, little plainsman?" Jondo cried, catching me
+  up and setting me on the counter. "Got a thorn in your shoe, or a
+  stone-bruise, or a chilblain?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I slipped out there behind a soldier on horseback, right in
+  front of a little old Mexican who was just whirling off to the
+  river," I said, the tears blinding my eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, he's turned his ankle! Looks like it was swelling already,"
+  Mat Nivers declared, as she slid from the counter and ran toward
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's a bad job," Jondo declared. "Just when we want to get off,
+  too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't I go with you to Santa F&eacute;, Uncle Esmond?" I
+  wailed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Gail, we'll fix you up all right," my uncle said, but his
+  face was grave as he examined my ankle.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a bad job, much worse than any of us had thought at first.
+  And as they all gathered round me I suddenly noticed the same
+  Mexican standing in the doorway, and I heard some one, I think it
+  was Uncle Esmond, say:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, you'd better take Gail over to the surgeon right away--"
+  His voice trailed off somewhere and all was blank nothingness to
+  me. But my last impression was that my uncle stayed behind with
+  the strange Mexican.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the excitement everybody forgot that I had on neither hat nor
+  coat as they carried me through the raw wet air to the army
+  surgeon's quarters beyond the soldiers' barracks.<br>
+  <br>
+  A chill and fever followed, and for a week there was only pain
+  and trouble for me. Nothing else hurt quite so deeply, however,
+  as the fear of being left behind when the Clarendens should start
+  for Santa F&eacute;. I would ask no questions, and nobody
+  mentioned the trip, for which everything was preparing. I began
+  at last to have a dread of being left in the night, of wakening
+  some morning to find only Mat and myself with Aunty Boone in the
+  little log house. Uncle Esmond had already been away for three
+  days, but nobody told me where he had gone, nor why he went, nor
+  when he would come back. It kept me awake at night, and the loss
+  of sleep made me nervous and feverish.<br>
+  <br>
+  One afternoon about a week after my accident, when Beverly and
+  Mat were putting the room in order and chattering like a couple
+  of squirrels, Beverly said, carelessly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, it's been a half a week since Uncle Esmond went down to
+  our other store in Independence, and we are going to start on our
+  trip just as soon as he gets back, unless he sends for me and
+  Jondo."<br>
+  <br>
+  I knew that he was trying to tell me that they meant to go
+  without me, for he hurried out with the last words. No boy wants
+  to talk to a disappointed boy, and I had to clinch my teeth hard
+  to keep back the tears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to get well quicker, Mat. I want to go to Santa F&eacute;
+  with Beverly," I wailed, making a desperate effort to get out of
+  bed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You cuddle right down there, Gail Clarenden, if you want to get
+  well at all. If you're real careful you'll be all right in a day
+  or two. Let's wait for Uncle Esmond to come home before we start
+  any worries."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was in her voice, girl or woman, that comforting note that
+  could always soothe me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat, won't you try to get them to let me go?" I pleaded.<br>
+  <br>
+  She made no promises, but busied herself with getting my foot
+  into its place again, singing softly to herself all the while.
+  Then she read me stories from our few story-books till I fell
+  asleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was twilight when I wakened. Where I lay I could hear Esmond
+  Clarenden and Aunty Boone talking in the kitchen, and I listened
+  eagerly to all they said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But it's no place for a woman," my uncle was urging,
+  gravely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I ain't a woman, I'm a cook. You want cooks if you eats. Mat
+  ain't a woman, she's a girl. But she's stronger 'n Beverly. If
+  you can't leave him, how can you leave her? An' Gail never get
+  well if he's left here, Cla'n'den, now he's got the goin' fever.
+  Never! An' if you never got back--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't believe he would get well, either." Then Uncle Esmond
+  spoke lower and I could not hear any more.<br>
+  <br>
+  Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing
+  in together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in
+  with them, and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all going to Santa F&eacute; over the long trail. Every
+  last gun of us. Aunty Boone, and Mat, and you, and me, and Jondo,
+  and Uncle Esmond, rag-tag and bobtail. Whoop-ee-diddle-dee!"
+  Beverly threw up his cap, and, catching Mat by the arms, they
+  whirled around the room together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who says so, Bev?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them as knows and bosses everything in this world. Jondo told
+  me, and he's just the boss's shadow. Now guess who," Beverly
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's all true, Gail," Mat assured me. "Esmond Clarenden
+  <i>is</i> going to Santa F&eacute; in spite of 'war, pestilence,
+  famine, and sword,' as my <i>History of the World</i> says, and
+  he <i>is</i> going to take son Beverly, and son Gail to watch son
+  Beverly; and Miss Mat Nivers to watch both of them and shoo
+  Indians away; and Aunt Daniel Boone to scare the Mexicans into
+  the Gulf of California, if they act ugly, see!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She capered about the room, and as she passed me she stooped and
+  patted me on the forehead. I didn't want her to do that. I had
+  taken a long jump away from little-boy-dom a week ago, but I was
+  supremely content now that all of us were to take the long trail
+  together.<br>
+  <br>
+  That evening while Mat and Beverly went to look after some
+  fishing-lines they had set--Mat and Bev were always going
+  fishing--and Jondo was down at the store, the officer in command
+  of the fort came in. He paid no attention to me lying there, all
+  eyes and ears whenever shoulder-straps were present.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did you decide to do about the trip to Santa F&eacute;?" he
+  asked, as he tipped back in his chair and settled down to cigars
+  and an evening chat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We shall be leaving on the boat in the morning," my uncle
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The colonel's chair came down with a crack. "You don't mean it!"
+  he exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I told you a week ago that I would be starting as soon as
+  possible," Esmond Clarenden said, quietly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, man, the war is raging, simply raging, down in Mexico right
+  now. Our division will be here to commence drill in a few weeks,
+  and we start for the border in a few months. You are mad to take
+  such a risk." The commander's voice rose.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must go, that's all!" my uncle insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We? We? Who the devil are 'we'? None of my companies mutinied, I
+  hope."<br>
+  <br>
+  The words did not sound like a joke, and there was little humor
+  in the grim face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'We' means Jondo, Banney, a young fellow from Kentucky--" Uncle
+  Esmond began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Humph! Banney's father carried a gun at Fort Dearborn in 1812. I
+  thought that young fellow came here for military service," the
+  colonel commented, testily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rather say he came for adventure," Esmond Clarenden
+  suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'll get a deuced lot of it in a hurry, if you persuade him off
+  with you."<br>
+  <br>
+  A flush swept over Esmond Clarenden's face, but his good-natured
+  smile did not fail as he replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't persuade anybody. The rest of the company are my two
+  nephews and the little girl, my ward, with our cook, Daniel
+  Boone, as commander-in-chief of the pots and pans and any Indian
+  meat foolish enough to fall in her way."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then came the explosion. Powder would have cost less than the
+  energy blown off there. The colonel stamped and swore, and sprang
+  to his feet in opposition, and flung himself down in disgust.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Women and children!" he gasped. "Why do you sacrifice helpless
+  innocent ones?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Aunty Boone strode in carrying a log of wood as big as
+  a man's body, which she deftly threw on the fire. As the flame
+  blazed high she gave one look at the young officer sitting before
+  it, and then walked out as silently and sturdily as she had
+  entered. It was such a look as a Great Dane dog full of
+  superiority and indifference might have given to a terrier puppy,
+  and from where I lay I thought the military man's face took on a
+  very strange expression.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I 'sacrifice my innocent ones,'" my uncle answered the query,
+  "because they will be safer with me than anywhere else. Young as
+  they are, there are some forces against them already."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, you are going to a perilous place, over a most perilous
+  trail, in a most perilous time of national affairs, to meet such
+  treacherously villainous men as New Mexico offers in her
+  market-places right now? And all for the sake of the commerce of
+  the plains? Why do you take such chances to do business with such
+  people, Clarenden?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden had been staring at the burning logs in the big
+  fireplace during this conversation. He turned now and faced the
+  young army officer squarely as he said in that level tone that we
+  children had learned long ago was final:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Colonel, I'd go straight to hell and do business with the devil
+  himself if I had any business dealings with him."<br>
+  <br>
+  The colonel's face fell. Slowly he relighted his cigar, and
+  leaned back again in his chair, and with that diplomacy that
+  covers a skilful retreat he said, smilingly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If any man west of the Missouri River ever could do that it
+  would be you, Clarenden. By the holy Jerusalem, the military lost
+  one grand commander when you chose a college instead of West
+  Point, and the East lost one well-bred gentleman from its circles
+  of commerce and culture when you elected to do business on the
+  old Santa F&eacute; Trail instead of Broadway. But I reckon the
+  West will need just such men as you long after the frontier fort
+  has become a central point in the country's civilized area. And,
+  blast you, Clarenden, blast your very picture! No man can help
+  liking you. Not even the devil if he had the chance. Not one man
+  in ten thousand would dare to make that trip right now. You've
+  got the courage of a colonel and the judgment of a judge. Go to
+  Santa F&eacute;! We may meet you coming back. If we do, and you
+  need us, command us!"<br>
+  <br>
+  He gave a courteous salute, and the two began to talk of other
+  things; among them the purposes that were bringing young men
+  westward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So Banney, right out of old blue-grassy Kentucky, is going to
+  back out of here and go with you," the colonel remarked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've hired him to drive one team. It's a lark for him, but the
+  army would be a lark just the same," Esmond Clarenden declared.
+  "He says he is to kill rattlesnakes and Mexicans, while Jondo
+  kills Indians and I sit tight on top of the bales of goods to
+  keep the wind from blowing them away. And the boys are to be made
+  bridle-wise, <i>plains-broke</i> for future freighting. That's
+  all that life means to him right now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I do not know what else was said, nor what I heard and what I
+  dreamed after that. If this journey meant a lark to a grown-up
+  boy, it meant a pilgrimage through fairyland to a young boy like
+  myself.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so the new life opened to us; and if the way was fraught with
+  hardship and danger, it also taught us courage and endurance. Nor
+  must we be measured by the boy life of to-day. Children lived the
+  grown-up life then. It was all there was for them to live.<br>
+  <br>
+  The yellow Missouri boiled endlessly along by the foot of the
+  bluff. The flag flapped broadly in the strong breeze that blew in
+  from the west; the square log house--the only home we had ever
+  known--looked forlornly after us, with its two front windows with
+  blinds half drawn, like two half-closed, watching eyes; the
+  cottonwoods and elms, the tiny storehouse--everything--grew
+  suddenly very dear to us. The fort buildings throwing long
+  shadows in the early morning, the level-topped forests east of
+  the Missouri River, and the budding woodland that overdraped the
+  ravines to the west, even in their silence, seemed like sentient
+  things, loving us, as we loved them.<br>
+  <br>
+  We children had gone all over the place before sunrise and
+  touched everything, in token of good-by; from some instinct
+  tarrying longest at the flagpole, where we threw kisses to the
+  great, beautiful banner high above us. Now, at the moment of
+  leaving all these familiar things of all our years, a choking
+  pain came to our throats. Mat's eyes filled with tears and she
+  looked resolutely forward. Beverly and I clutched hands and shut
+  our teeth together, determined to overcome this home-grip on our
+  hearts. Aunty Boone sat in a corner of the deck as the boat swung
+  out into the stream, her eyes dull and unseeing. She never spoke
+  of her thoughts, but I have wondered often, since that big day of
+  my young years, if she might not have recalled other voyages: the
+  slave-ship putting out to sea with the African shores fading
+  behind her; and the big river steamer at the New Orleans dock
+  where brutal hands had hurled her from the deck into the
+  dangerous floods of the Mississippi. This was her third voyage, a
+  brief run from Fort Leavenworth to Independence. She was apart
+  from her fellow-passengers as in the other two, but now nobody
+  gave her a curse, nor a blow. <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <a name="III" id="III">III</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE WIDENING HORIZON</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    Whose furthest footsteps never strayed<br>
+      Beyond the village of his birth,<br>
+    Is but a lodger for the night<br>
+      In this old Wayside Inn of Earth.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The broad green prairies of the West roll back in huge billows
+  from the Missouri bluffs, and ripple gently on, to melt at last
+  into the level grassy plains sloping away to the foothills of the
+  Rocky Mountains. Up and down these land-waves, and across these
+  ripples, the old Santa F&eacute; Trail, the slender pathway of a
+  wilderness-bridging commerce, led out toward the great
+  Southwest--a thousand weary miles--to end at last, where the
+  narrow thoroughfare reached the primitive hostelry at the corner
+  of the plaza in the heart of the capital of a Spanish-Mexican
+  demesne.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange old highway, tying the western frontier of a
+  new, self-reliant American civilization to the eastern limit of
+  an autocratic European offshoot, grafted upon an ancient Indian
+  stock of the Western Hemisphere. In language, nationality, social
+  code, political faith, and prevailing spiritual creed, the
+  terminals of this highway were as unlike as their geographical
+  naming. For the trail began at <i>Independence</i>, in Missouri,
+  and ended at Santa F&eacute;, the "<i>City of the Holy
+  Faith</i>," in New Mexico.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little trading town of Independence was a busy place in the
+  frontier years of the Middle West. Ungentle and unlovely as it
+  was, it was the great gateway between the river traffic on the
+  one side, and the plains commerce of the far Southwest on the
+  other. At the wharf at Westport, only a few miles away, the
+  steamers left their cargoes of flour and bacon, coffee and
+  calicoes, jewelry and sugar--whatever might have a market value
+  to merchants beyond the desert lands. And here these same
+  steamers took on furs, and silver bullion, and such other produce
+  of the mountains and mines and open plains as the opulently laden
+  caravans had toiled through long days, overland, to bring to the
+  river's wharf.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-day the same old gateway stands as of yore. But it may be
+  given only to men who have seen what I have seen, to know how
+  that our Kansas City, the Beautiful, could grow up from that old
+  wilderness outpost of commerce threescore and more years ago.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Clarenden store was the busiest spot in the center of this
+  busy little town. Goods from both lines of trade entered and
+  cleared here. In front of the building three Conestoga wagons
+  with stout mule teams stood ready. A fourth wagon, the Dearborn
+  carriage of that time, filled mostly with bedding, clothing, and
+  the few luxuries a long camping-out journey may indulge in,
+  waited only for a team, and we would be off to the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and Bill Banney were busy with the last things to be done
+  before we started. Aunty Boone sat on a pile of pelts inside the
+  store, smoking her pipe. Beverly and Mat stood waiting in the big
+  doorway, while I sat on a barrel outside, because my ankle was
+  still a bit stiff. A crowd had gathered before the store to see
+  us off. It was not such a company as the soldier-men at the fort.
+  The outlaw, the loafer, the drunkard, the ruffian, the gambler,
+  and the trickster far outnumbered the stern-faced men of affairs.
+  When the balance turns the other way the frontier disappears.
+  Mingling with these was a pale-faced invalid now and then, with
+  the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled
+  with men.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle
+  Esmond hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know,
+  but he rigged this littler wagon out in a twinkle."<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us
+  children are to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the
+  driving," Mat added.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he
+  replied. "I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm
+  in a hurry."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They
+  tell me things look squally out West."<br>
+  <br>
+  "All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
+  returned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of
+  more mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving
+  class who sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They
+  are all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  Women and children did not cross the plains in those days, nor
+  could public welfare allow that so valuable a piece of property
+  as Aunty Boone would be in the slave-market should be lost to
+  commerce, and the storm of protest that followed would have
+  overcome a less determined man. It was not on account of sympathy
+  for the weak and defenseless that called out all this abuse, but
+  the lawless spirit that stirs up a mob on the slightest
+  excuse.<br>
+  <br>
+  I slid away to the door, where, with Mat and Beverly, I watched
+  Esmond Clarenden, who was listening with his good-natured smile
+  to all of that loud street talk.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No man's life is insurable in these troublesome times, with our
+  troops right now down in Mexico," a suave Southern trader urged.
+  "Better sell your slave and put that nice little gal in a
+  boardin'-school somewhere in the South."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll give you a mighty good bargain for that wench, Clarenden.
+  She might be worth a clare fortune in New Orleans. What d'ye say
+  to a cool thousand?" another man declared, with a slow. Southern
+  drawl.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone took the pipe from her lips and looked at the
+  stranger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Y'would!" she grunted, stretching her big right hand across her
+  lap, like a huge paw with claws ready underneath.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them plains Injuns never was more <i>hostile</i> than they air
+  right now. I just got in from the mountains an' I know. An'
+  they're bein' set on by more <i>hostile</i> Mexican devils, and
+  political <i>intrigs</i>," a bearded mountaineer trapper
+  argued.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Sides all that," interposed the suave Southern gentleman, "it's
+  too early in the spring. Freightin's bound to be delayed by
+  rains--and a nice little gal with only a nigger--" He was not
+  quite himself, and he did not try to say more.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Seems like some of these gentlemen consider you are some sort of
+  a fool," a tall, lean Yankee youth observed, as he listened to
+  the babble.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had climbed back on the barrel again to see the crowd better,
+  and I stared at the last speaker. His voice was not unpleasant,
+  but he appeared pale and weak and spiritless in that company of
+  tanned, rugged men. Evidently he was an invalid in search of
+  health. We children had seen many invalids, from time to time, at
+  the fort harmless folk, who came to fuss, and stayed to flourish,
+  in our gracious land of the open air.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a dam' fool," roared a big drunken loafer from the edge
+  of the crowd. "An' I'd lick you in a minnit if you das step into
+  the middle of the street onct. Ornery sneak, to take innocent
+  children into such perils. Come on out here, I tell ye!"<br>
+  <br>
+  A growl followed these words. Many men in that company were less
+  than half sober, and utterly irresponsible.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Le's jes' hang the fool storekeepin' gent right now; an' make a
+  free-fur-all holiday. I'll begin," the drunken ruffian bawled. He
+  was of the sort that always leads a mob.<br>
+  <br>
+  The growl deepened, for blood-lust and drunkenness go
+  together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Terrified for my uncle's safety, I stood breathless, staring at
+  the evil-faced crowd of men going suddenly mad, without excuse.
+  At the farthest edge of the insipient mob, sitting on his horse
+  and watching my uncle's face intently, was the very Mexican whom
+  I had twice seen at Fort Leavenworth. At the drunken rowdy's
+  challenge, I thought that he half-lifted a threatening hand. But
+  Esmond Clarenden only smiled, with a mere turn of his head as if
+  in disapproval. In that minute I learned my first lesson in
+  handling ruffians. I knew that my uncle was not afraid, and
+  because of that my faith in his power to take care of himself
+  came back.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to leave here in half an hour. If you have any good
+  plains-broke mules you will sell for cash, I can do business with
+  you right now. If not, the sooner you leave this place the
+  better."<br>
+  <br>
+  He lifted his small, shapely hand unclenched, his good-natured
+  smile and gentlemanly bearing unchanged, but his low voice was
+  stronger than all the growls of the crowd that fell back like
+  whipped dogs.<br>
+  <br>
+  As he spoke a horse-dealer, seeing the gathering before the
+  store, came galloping up.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm your man. Money talks so I can understand it. Wait five
+  minutes and ten seconds and I'll bring a whole strand of
+  mules."<br>
+  <br>
+  A rattling of wagons and roar of voices at the far end of the
+  street told of the arrival of a company coming in from the wharf
+  at Westport, and the crowd whirled about and made haste toward
+  the next scene of interest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Only two men remained behind, the tall New England youth and the
+  Mexican on the farther side of the street sitting motionless on
+  his horse. A moment later he was gone, and the street was empty
+  save for the pale-faced invalid who had come over to the doorway
+  where Mat and Beverly and I waited together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why don't you youngsters stay home with your mother, or is she
+  going with you?" he asked, a gleam of interest lighting his dull
+  face as he looked at Mat Nivers.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We haven't any of us got a mother," Mat replied, timidly,
+  lifting her gray eyes to his.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mother! Ain't you all one family?" the young man questioned in
+  surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, we are three orphan children that Uncle Esmond has adopted
+  all our lives, I guess." Beverly informed him.<br>
+  <br>
+  A wave of sympathy swept over his face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You poor, lonely, unhappy cubs! You've never had a mother to
+  love you!" he exclaimed, in kindly pity.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We aren't poor nor lonely nor unhappy. We have always had Uncle
+  Esmond and we didn't need a mother," I exclaimed, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man stared at me as I spoke. "What's he, a bachelor or
+  married man?" he inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He couldn't be married and keep us, I reckon, and he's taking us
+  with him so nothing will happen to us while he's gone. He's
+  really truly Bev's uncle and mine, but he's just the same as
+  uncle to Mat, who hasn't anybody else," I declared,
+  enthusiastically. Uncle Esmond was my pride, and I meant that he
+  should be fully appreciated.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Yankee gazed at all three of us, his eyes resting longest on
+  Mat's bright face. The listlessness left his own that minute and
+  a new light shone on his countenance. But when he turned to my
+  uncle the seeming lack of all interest in living returned to his
+  face again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say," he drawled, looking down at the stubborn little merchant
+  from his slim six feet of altitude, "you are such a dam' fool as
+  our friend, the tipsy one, says, that I believe I'll go along
+  'cross the plains with you, if you'll let me. I've not got a
+  darned thing to lose out there but a sick carcass that I'm pretty
+  tired of looking after," he went on, wearily. "I reckon I might
+  as well see the fun through if I never set a hoof on old Plymouth
+  Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at Lexington. Say"--he
+  paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the bean-eaters
+  who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth, there
+  wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
+  tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men
+  myself make the same claim. But my granddad was the real article
+  in the minute-men business. And I've always admired his grit most
+  of any man in the world. He was about your shape, I reckon, from
+  his picture that old man Copley got out. But, man! he wasn't a
+  patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the preposterous-est
+  unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just straight
+  murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
+  plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico,
+  and I like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If
+  you will, I'll deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've
+  got only a little wad of money to get well on or die on. I can
+  spend it either way--not much difference which. My name is Krane,
+  Rex Krane, and in spite of such a floopsy name I hail from
+  Boston, U.S.A."<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth,
+  redeemed only by the twinkle in his eye.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated
+  men easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want
+  to turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles
+  or more on the trail. You can try it that far and see how you
+  like it. I'll furnish you your board. There are always plenty of
+  bedrooms on the ground floor and in one of the wagons on rainy
+  nights. You can take a shift driving a team now and then, and
+  every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some of the time. You
+  understand the dangers of the situation by this time. Here comes
+  my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a string
+  of mules up the street.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the
+  bargain was closed.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and
+  Aunty Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
+  Clarenden replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the
+  crowd had been. The foolish risk of losing so valuable a piece of
+  property as Daniel Boone ought to be in the slave-market taxed
+  his powers of understanding, profanity, and abuse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cussin' solid, an' in streaks," Aunty Boone chuckled, softly, as
+  she listened to him unmoved.<br>
+  <br>
+  Equally unmoved was Esmond Clarenden. But his genial smile and
+  diplomatic power of keeping still did not prevent him from being
+  as set as the everlasting hills in his own purpose.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This here critter is all I'll sell you," the trader declared at
+  last, pulling a big white-eyed dun animal out of the group. "An'
+  nobody's goin' to drive her easy."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll take it," Uncle Esmond said, promptly, and the
+  vicious-looking beast was brought to where Aunty Boone stood
+  beside the wagon-tongue.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a clear case of hate at first sight, for the mule began to
+  plunge and squeal the instant it saw her. The woman hesitated not
+  a minute, but lifting her big ham-like foot, she gave it one
+  broadside kick that it must have mistaken for a thunderbolt, and
+  in that low purr of hers, that might frighten a jungle tiger, she
+  laid down the law of the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You tote me to Santy Fee, or be a dead mule. Take yo' choice
+  right now! Git up!"<br>
+  <br>
+  For fifty days the one dependable, docile servant of the
+  Clarendens was the big dun mule, as gentle and kitten-like as a
+  mule can be.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so, in spite of opposing conditions and rabble protest and
+  doleful prophecy and the assurance of certain perils, we turned
+  our faces toward the unfriendly land of the sunset skies, the
+  open West of my childish day-dreams.<br>
+  <br></p>
+
+  <p class="ctr"><span>   <font size="5">          *
+  *          *          *          *</font>        </span></p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The prairies were splashed with showers and the warm black soil
+  was fecund with growths as our little company followed the
+  windings of the old trail in that wondrous springtime of my own
+  life's spring. There were eight of us: Clarenden, the merchant;
+  Jondo, the big plainsman; Bill Banney, whom love of adventure had
+  lured from the blue grass of Kentucky to the prairie-grass of the
+  West; Rex Krane, the devil-may-care invalid from Boston; and the
+  quartet of us in the "baby cab," as Beverly had christened the
+  family wagon. Uncle Esmond had added three swift ponies to our
+  equipment, which Jondo and Bill found time to tame for riding as
+  we went along.<br>
+  <br>
+  We met wagon-trains, scouts, and solitary trappers going east,
+  but so far as we knew our little company was the only
+  westward-facing one on all the big prairies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's just like living in a fairy-story, isn't it, Gail?" Beverly
+  said to me one evening, as we rounded a low hill and followed a
+  deep little creek down to a shallow fording-place. "All we want
+  is a real princess and a real giant. Look at these big trees all
+  you can, for Jondo says pretty soon we won't see trees at
+  all."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe we'll have Indians instead of giants," I suggested. "When
+  do you suppose we'll begin to see the real <i>bad</i> Indians;
+  not just Osages and Kaws and sneaky little Otoes and Pot'wat'mies
+  like we've seen all our lives?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sooner than we expect," Beverly replied. "Could Mat Nivers ever
+  be a real princess, do you reckon?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know she won't," I said, firmly, the vision of that fateful
+  day at Fort Leavenworth coming back as I spoke--the vision of
+  level green prairies, with gray rocks and misty mountain peaks
+  beyond. And somewhere, between green prairies and misty peaks, a
+  sweet child face with big dark eyes looking straight into mine. I
+  must have been a dreamer. And in my young years I wondered often
+  why things should be so real to me that nobody else could ever
+  understand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I used to think long ago at the fort that I'd marry Mat some
+  day," Beverly said, reminiscently, as if he were looking across a
+  lapse of years instead of days.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So did I," I declared. "But I don't want to now. Maybe our
+  princess will be at the end of the trail, Bev, a real princess.
+  Still, I love Mat just as if she were my sister," I hastened to
+  add.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So do I," Beverly responded, heartily.<br>
+  <br>
+  A little grain of pity for her loss of prestige was mingling with
+  our subconscious feeling of a need for her help in the day of the
+  giant, if not in the reign of the princess.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were trudging along behind our wagon toward the camping-place
+  for the night, which lay beyond the crossing of the stream. We
+  had lived much out of doors at Fort Leavenworth, but the real out
+  of doors of this journey was telling on us already in our sturdy,
+  up-leaping strength, to match each new hardship. We ate like
+  wolves, slept like dead things, and forgot what it meant to be
+  tired. And as our muscles hardened our minds expanded. We were no
+  longer little children. Youth had set its seal upon us on the day
+  when our company had started out from Independence toward the
+  great plains of the Middle West. Little care had we for the
+  responsibility and perils of such a journey; and because our
+  thoughts were buoyant our bodies were vigorous.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our camp that night was under wide-spreading elm-trees whose
+  roots struck deep in the deep black loam. After supper Mat and
+  Beverly went down to fish in the muddy creek. Fishing was
+  Beverly's sport and solace everywhere. I was to follow them as
+  soon as I had finished my little chores. The men were scattered
+  about the valley and the camp was deserted. Something in the
+  woodsy greenness of the quiet spot made it seem like home to
+  me--the log house among the elms and cottonwoods at the fort. As
+  I finished my task I wondered how a big, fine house such as I had
+  seen in pictures would look nestled among these beautiful trees.
+  I wanted a home here some day, a real home. It was such a
+  pleasant place even in its loneliness.<br>
+  <br>
+  To the west the ground sloped up gently toward the horizon-line,
+  shutting off the track of the trail beyond the ridge. A sudden
+  longing came over me to see what to-morrow's journey would offer,
+  bringing back the sense of being <i>shut in</i> that had made me
+  lose interest in fishes that wouldn't play leap-frog on the
+  sand-bars. And with it came a longing to be alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Instead of following Mat and Beverly to the creek I went out to
+  the top of the swell and stood long in the April twilight,
+  looking beyond the rim of the valley toward the darkening
+  prairies with the great splendor of the sunset's afterglow
+  deepening to richest crimson above the purpling shadows.<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, many a time since that night have I looked upon the Kansas
+  plains and watched the grandeur of coloring that only the
+  Almighty artist ever paints for human eyes. And always I come
+  back, in memory, to that April evening. The soul of a man must
+  have looked out through the little boy's eyes on that night, and
+  a new mile-stone was set there, making a landmark in my life
+  trail. For when I turned toward the darkening east and the
+  shadowy camp where the evening fires gleamed redly in the dusk, I
+  knew then, as well as I know now, if I could only have put it
+  into words, that I was not the same little boy who had run up the
+  long slope to see what lay next in to-morrow's journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  I walked slowly back to the camp and sat down beside Esmond
+  Clarenden.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What are you thinking about, Gail?" he asked, as I stared at the
+  fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wish I knew what would happen next," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo was lying at full length on the grass, his elbow bent, and
+  his hand supporting his head. What a wonderful head it was with
+  its crown of softly curling brown hair!<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wonder if we have done wrong by the children, Clarenden," the
+  big plainsman said, slowly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond shook his head as he replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can't believe it. They may not be safe with us, but we know
+  they would not have been safe without us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Beverly and Mat came racing up from the creek bank.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let us stay up awhile," Mat pleaded. "Maybe we'll be less
+  trouble some of these days if we hear you talk about what's
+  coming."<br>
+  <br>
+  "They are right, Jondo. Gail here wants to know what is coming
+  next, and Mat wants a share in our councils. What do you want,
+  Beverly?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to practise shooting on horseback. I can hit a mark now
+  standing still. I want to do it on the run," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can see now the earnest look in Esmond Clarenden's eyes as he
+  listened. I've seen it in a mother's eyes more than once since
+  then, as she kissed her eldest-born and watched it toddle off
+  alone on its first day of school; or held her peace, when,
+  breaking home ties, the son of her heart bade her good-by to
+  begin life for himself in the world outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last light of day was lost over the western ridge. The moon
+  was beginning to swell big and yellow through the trees. Twilight
+  was darkening into night. Bill Banney and Rex Krane had joined us
+  now, for every hour we were learning to keep closer together.
+  Jondo threw more wood on the fire, and we nestled about it in
+  snug, homey fashion as if we were to listen to a
+  fairy-tale--three children slipping fast out of childhood into
+  the stern, hard plains life that tried men's souls. As we
+  listened, the older men told of the perils as well as the
+  fascinating adventures of trail life, that we might understand
+  what lay before us in the unknown days. And then they told us
+  stories of the plains, and of the quaint historic things of Santa
+  F&eacute;; of El Palacio, home of all the Governors of New
+  Mexico; an Indian pueblo first, it may have been standing there
+  when William the Norman conquered Harold of the Saxon dynasty of
+  England; or further back when Charlemagne was hanging heathen by
+  the great great gross to make good Christians of them; or even
+  when old Julius C&aelig;sar came and saw and conquered, on either
+  side of the Rubicon, this same old structure may have sheltered
+  rulers in a world unknown. They told us of the old, old church of
+  San Miguel, a citadel for safety from the savage foes of Spain, a
+  sanctuary ever for the sinful and sorrowing ones. And of the
+  Plaza--sacred ground whereon by ceremonial form had been
+  established deeds that should change the destinies of tribes and
+  shape the trend of national pride and power in a new continent.
+  And of La Garita, place of execution, facing whose blind wall the
+  victims of the Spanish rule made their last stand, and, helpless,
+  fell pierced by the bullets of the Spanish soldiery.<br>
+  <br>
+  And we children looked into the dying camp-fire and builded there
+  our own castles in Spain, and hoped that that old flag to which
+  we had thrown good-by kisses such a little while ago would one
+  day really wave above old Santa F&eacute; and make it ours to
+  keep. For, young as we were, the flag already symbolized to us
+  the protecting power of a nation strong and gentle and
+  generous.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The first and last law of the trail is to 'hold fast,'" Jondo
+  said, as we broke up the circle about the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you can keep that law we will take you into full partnership
+  to-night," Esmond Clarenden added, and we knew that he meant what
+  he said. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="IV" id="IV">IV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE MAN IN THE DARK</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  A stone's throw from either hand,<br>
+  From that well-ordered road we tread,<br>
+  And all the world is wide and strange.<br>
+                                  --KIPLING<br></p>
+
+  <p>"We shall come to the parting of the ways to night if we make
+  good time, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said to the young Bostonian,
+  as we rested at noon beside the trait. "To-night we camp at
+  Council Grove and from there on there is no turning back. I had
+  hoped to find a big crowd waiting to start off from that place.
+  But everybody we have met coming in says that there are no
+  freighters going west now. Usually there is no risk in coming
+  alone from Council Grove to the Missouri River, and there is
+  always opportunity for company at this end of the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  We were sitting in a circle under the thin shade of some
+  cottonwood-trees beside a little stream; the air of noon, hot
+  above our heads, was tempered with a light breeze from the
+  southwest. As my uncle spoke, Rex glanced over at Mat Nivers,
+  sitting beside him, and then gazed out thoughtfully across the
+  stream. I had never thought her pretty before. But now her face,
+  tanned by the sun and wind, had a richer glow on cheek and lip.
+  Her damp hair lay in little wavelets about her temples, and her
+  big, sunny, gray eyes were always her best feature.<br>
+  <br>
+  Girls made their own dresses on the frontier, and I suppose that
+  anywhere else Mat would have appeared old-fashioned in the neat,
+  comfortable little gowns of durable gingham and soft woolen
+  stuffs that she made for herself. But somehow in all that long
+  journey she was the least travel-soiled of the whole party.<br>
+  <br>
+  At my uncle's words she looked up questioningly and I saw the
+  bloom deepen on her cheek as she met the young man's eyes.
+  Somebody else saw that shadow of a blush--Bill Banney lying on
+  the ground beside me, and although he pulled his hat cautiously
+  over his face, I thought he was listening for the answer.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young New-Englander stared long at the green prairie before
+  he spoke. I never knew whether it was ignorance, or a lack of
+  energy, that was responsible for his bad grammar in those early
+  days, for Rex Krane was no sham invalid. The lines on his young
+  face told of suffering, and the thin, bony hands showed bodily
+  weakness. At length he turned to my uncle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I started out sort of reckless on this trip," he said, slowly.
+  "I'm nearly twenty and never been worth a dang to anybody
+  anywhere on God's earth; so I thought I might as well be where
+  things looked interestin'. But"--he hesitated--"I'm gettin' a lot
+  stronger every day, a whole lot stronger. Mebby I'd be of some
+  use afterwhile--I don't know, though. I reckon I'd better wait
+  till we get to that Council Grove place. Sounds like a nice
+  locality to rest and think in. Are you goin' on, anyhow,
+  Clarenden, crowd or no crowd?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Though the heavens fall," my uncle answered, simply.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had turned quickly to hear this reply and a great light
+  leaped into his deep-set blue eyes. I glanced over at Aunty
+  Boone, sitting apart from us, as she ever chose to do, her own
+  eyes dull, as they always were when she saw keenest; and I
+  remembered how, back at Fort Leavenworth, she had commented on
+  this journey, saying: "They tote together always, an' they're
+  totin' now." Child though I was, I felt that a something more
+  than the cargo of goods was leading my uncle to Santa F&eacute;.
+  What I did not understand was his motive for taking Beverly and
+  Mat and me with him. I had been satisfied before just to go, but
+  now I wanted very much to know why I was going.<br>
+  <br>
+  Council Grove by the Neosho River was the end of civilization for
+  the freighter. Beyond it the wilderness spread its untamed
+  lengths, and excepting Bent's Fort far up the Arkansas River on
+  the line of the first old trail, rarely followed now, it held not
+  a sign of civilization for the traveler until he should reach the
+  first outposts of the Mexican almost in the shadow of Santa
+  F&eacute;. It is no wonder that wagon-trains mobilized here,
+  waiting for an increase in numbers before they dared to start on
+  westward. And now there were no trains waiting for our coming.
+  Only a gripping necessity could have led a man like Esmond
+  Clarenden to take the trail alone in the certain perils of the
+  plains during the middle '40's. I did not know until long
+  afterward how brave was the loving heart that beat in that little
+  merchant's bosom. A devotee of ease and refinement, he walked the
+  prairie trails unafraid, and made the desert serve his will.<br>
+  <br>
+  The dusk of evening had fallen long before we pitched camp that
+  night under the big oak-trees in the Neosho River valley outside
+  of the little trading-post. Up in the village a light or two
+  gleamed faintly. From somewhere in the darkness came the sound of
+  a violin, mingling with loud talking and boisterous laughter in a
+  distant drinking-den. It would be some time until moon-rise, and
+  the shadowy places thickened to blackness.<br>
+  <br>
+  In fair weather all of us except Mat Nivers slept in the open. On
+  stormy nights the younger men occupied one of the wagons, Jondo
+  and Beverly another, and my uncle and myself the third. Mat had
+  the "baby-cab" as Beverly called it, with Aunty Boone underneath
+  it. The ground was Aunty Boone's kingdom. She sat upon it, ate
+  from it, slept on it, and seemed no more soiled than a snake
+  would be by the contact with it.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Some day I goes plop under it, and be ground myself," she used
+  to say. "Good black soil I make, too," she always added, with her
+  low chuckle.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night we were all in the wagons, for the spring rains had made
+  the Neosho valley damp and muddy. I was just on the edge of
+  dreamless slumber when a low voice that seemed to cut the
+  darkness caught my ear.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Cla'nden! Cla'nden!" it hissed, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle slipped noiselessly out to where Aunty Boone stood, her
+  head so near to the canvas wagon-cover inside of which I lay that
+  I could hear all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  She was always a night prowler. What other women learn now from
+  the evening newspaper or from neighborly gossip she, being
+  created without a sense of fear, went forth in her time and
+  gathered at first hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I been prospectin' up 'round the saloon, Cla'nden. They's a
+  nasty mess of Mexicans in town, all gettin' drunk."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then I heard a faint rustle of the bushes and I knew that the
+  woman was slipping away to her place under the wagon. I
+  remembered the Mexican whom I had last seen across the street
+  from the Clarenden store in Independence. These were bad
+  Mexicans, as Aunty Boone had said, and that man had seemed in a
+  silent way a friend of my uncle. I wondered what would happen
+  next. It soon happened. My uncle Esmond came inside the wagon and
+  called, softly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, wake up."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm awake," I replied, in a half-whisper, as alert as a
+  mystery-loving boy could be.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Slip over to Jondo and tell him there are Mexicans in town, and
+  I'm going across the river to see what's up. Tell him to wake up
+  everybody and have them stay in the wagons till I get back."<br>
+  <br>
+  He slid away and the shadows ate him. I followed as far as
+  Jondo's wagon, and gave my message. As I came back something
+  seemed to slip away before me and disappear somewhere. I dived
+  into our wagon and crouched down, waiting with beating heart for
+  Uncle Esmond to come back. Once I thought I heard the sound of a
+  horse's feet on the trail to the eastward, but I was not
+  sure.<br>
+  <br>
+  All was still and black in the little camp for a long time, and
+  then Esmond Clarenden and Rex Krane crept into the wagon and
+  dropped the flap behind them.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, have you decided about this trip yet?" Uncle Esmond
+  asked. "If not, you'd better get right up into town and forget
+  us. You can't be too quick about it, either."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Ain't we going to stay here a few days? Why do you want to know
+  to-night?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane, Yankee-like, met the query with a query.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because there's a pretty strong party of Mexican desperadoes
+  here who are going on east, and they mean trouble for somebody. I
+  shouldn't care to meet them with our strength alone. They are all
+  pretty drunk now and getting wilder every minute. Listen to
+  that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  A yell across the river broke the night stillness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is no telling how soon they may be over here, hunting for
+  us. We must get by them some way, for I cannot risk a fight with
+  them here. Which chance will you choose, the possibility of being
+  overtaken by that Mexican gang going east, or the perils of the
+  plains and the hostility of New Mexico right now? It's about as
+  broad one way as the other for safety, with staying here for a
+  time as the only middle course at present. But that is a
+  perfectly safe one for you."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am going on with you," Rex Krane said, with his slow Yankee
+  drawl. "When danger gets close, then I scatter. There's more
+  chance in seven hundred miles to miss somethin' than there is in
+  a hundred and fifty. And even a half-invalid might be of some
+  use. Say, Clarenden, how'd you get hold of this information? You
+  turned in before I did."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Daniel Boone went out on scout duty--self-elected. You know she
+  considers that the earth was made for her to walk on when she
+  chooses to use it that way. She spied trouble ahead and came
+  back, and gave me the key to the west door of Council Grove so I
+  could get out early," my uncle replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I reckoned as much," Rex declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dark I could feel Esmond Clarenden give a start.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What do you mean?" he inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I saw the fat lady start out, so I followed her, but I
+  located the nest of Mexicans before she did, and got a good deal
+  out of their drunken jargon. And then I cat-footed it back after
+  a snaky-looking, black Spaniard that seemed to be following her.
+  There were three of us in a row, but the devil hasn't got the
+  hindmost one, not yet--that's me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You saw some one follow Daniel into camp?" my uncle broke in,
+  anxiously. But no threatening peril ever hurried Rex Krane's
+  speech.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, and I also followed some one; but I lost him in this
+  ink-well of a hole, and I was waitin' till he left so I could put
+  the cat out, an' shut the door, when you cut across the river.
+  I've been sittin' round now to see that nothin' broke loose till
+  you got back. Meantime, the thing sort of faded away. I heard a
+  horse gallopin' off east, too. Mebby they are outpostin' to
+  surround our retreat. I didn't wake Bill. He's got no more
+  imagination than Bev. If I had needed anybody I'd have stirred up
+  Gail, here."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dark I fairly swelled with pride, and from that moment Rex
+  Krane was added to my little list of heroes that had been made
+  up, so far, of Esmond Clarenden and Jondo and any army officer
+  above the rank of captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, you'll do. I thought I had your correct measure back in
+  Independence," Uncle Esmond said, heartily. "As to the boys, I
+  can risk them; they are Clarendens. My anxiety is for the little
+  orphan girl. She is only a child. I couldn't leave her behind us,
+  and I must not let a hair of her head be harmed."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's a right womanly little thing," Rex Krane said, carelessly;
+  but I wondered if in the dark his eyes might not have had the
+  same look they had had at noon when he turned to Mat sitting
+  beside my uncle. Maybe back at Boston he had a little sister of
+  his own like her. Anyhow, I decided then that men's words and
+  faces do not always agree.<br>
+  <br>
+  Again the roar of voices broke out, and we scrambled from the
+  wagon and quickly gathered our company together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did you find out?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must clear out of here right away and get through to the
+  other side of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing
+  it. They are a gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross
+  the river if we should wait till morning. They have already sent
+  a spy over here, and they are waiting for him to report."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of
+  him went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into
+  nothin' toward the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further
+  words, Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman
+  would put through whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For
+  Aunty Boone was right when she said, "They tote together."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't
+  belong together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And
+  remember now, Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with
+  'em, I'll do it myself," Jondo said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter
+  more," I urged, as we hastily broke camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives
+  for nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned
+  hesitatingly toward Mat Nivers.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no
+  wonder that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity
+  of the plains in those days, when even as children we ran to meet
+  danger with courageous daring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own
+  ford," Jondo commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the
+  northwest side of town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody
+  tries to stop you, ride like fury for the ridge."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me
+  this side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll
+  be gone. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred
+  all of us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you
+  must run make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick
+  man ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to
+  John-the-Baptist this procession and air the parlor
+  bedrooms."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the
+  wagon with me," Bill Banney urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward,
+  and I'm foot-loose. It's my job to give the address of welcome
+  over t'other side of this Mexican settlement."<br>
+  <br>
+  The tall, thin young man slouched his cap carelessly on his head
+  and strode away toward the river. Youth was reckless in those
+  days, and the trail was the home of dramatic opportunity. But
+  none of us had dreamed hitherto of Rex Krane's degree of daring
+  and his stubborn will.<br>
+  <br>
+  The big yellow moon was sailing up from the east; the Neosho
+  glistened all jet and silver over its rough bed; the great
+  shadowy oaks looked ominously after us as we moved out toward the
+  threatening peril before us. Slowly, as though she had time to
+  kill, Aunty Boone sent the brown mule and trusty dun down to the
+  river's rock-bottom ford. Slowly and unconcernedly she climbed
+  the slope and passed up the single street toward the saloon she
+  had already "prospected." Pausing a full minute, she swung toward
+  a far-off cabin light to the south, jogging over the rough ground
+  noisily. The door of the drinking-den was filled with dark faces
+  as the crowd jostled out. Just a lone wagon making its way
+  somewhere about its own business, that was all.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the crowd turned in again three ponies galloped up the street
+  toward the slope leading out to the high level prairies beyond
+  the Neosho valley. But who could guess how furiously three young
+  hearts beat, and how tightly three pairs of young hands clutched
+  the bridle reins as we surged forward, forgetting the advice to
+  keep in the shadow.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just after we had crossed the river, a man on horseback fell in
+  behind us. We quickened our speed, but he gained on us. Before we
+  reached the saloon he was almost even with us, keeping well in
+  the shadow all the while. In the increasing moonlight, making
+  everything clear to the eye, I gave one quick glance over my
+  shoulder and saw that the horseman was a Mexican. I have lived a
+  life so fraught with danger that I should hardly remember the
+  feeling of fear but for the indelible imprint of that one
+  terrified minute in the moonlit street of Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  Two ruffians on watch outside the saloon sprang up with yells.
+  The door burst open and a gang of rowdies fairly spilled out
+  around us. We three on our ponies had the instinctive security on
+  horseback of children born to the saddle, else we should never
+  have escaped from the half-drunken crew. I recall the dust of
+  striking hoofs, the dark forms dodging everywhere, the Mexican
+  rider keeping between us and the saloon door, and most of all I
+  remember one glimpse of Mat Nivers's face with big, staring eyes,
+  and firm-set mouth; and I remember my fleeting impression that
+  she could take care of herself if we could; and over all a sudden
+  shadow as the moon, in pity of our terror, hid its face behind a
+  tiny cloud.<br>
+  <br>
+  When it shone out again we were dashing by separate ways up the
+  steep slope to the west ridge, but, strangely enough, the Mexican
+  horseman with a follower or two had turned away from us and was
+  chasing off somewhere out of sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  Up on top of the bluff, with Rex Krane and Aunty Boone, we
+  watched and waited. The wooded Neosho valley full of inky
+  blackness seemed to us like a bottomless gorge of terror which no
+  moonlight could penetrate. We strained our ears to catch the
+  rattle of the wagons, but the noise from the saloon, coming
+  faintly now and then, was all the sound we could hear save the
+  voices of the night rising up from the river, and the whisperings
+  of the open prairie to the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  In that hour Rex Krane became our good angel.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Keep the law, 'Hold fast'! You made a splendid race of it, and
+  if Providence made that fellow lose you gettin' out, and led him
+  and his gang sideways from you, I reckon she will keep on takin'
+  care of you till Clarenden resumes control, so don't you
+  worry."<br>
+  <br>
+  But for his brave presence the terror of that lonely watch would
+  have been harder than the peril of the street, for he seemed more
+  like a gentle mother than the careless, scoffing invalid of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Midnight came, and the chill of midnight. We huddled together in
+  our wagon and still we waited. Down in the village the lights
+  still burned, and angry voices with curses came to our ears at
+  intervals.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime the three men across the river moved cautiously, hoping
+  that we were safe on the bluff, and knowing that they dared not
+  follow us too rapidly. The wagons creaked and the harness rattled
+  noisily in the night stillness, as slowly, one by one, they
+  lumbered through the darkness across the river and up the bank to
+  the village street. Here they halted and grouped together.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must hide out and wait, Clarenden," Jondo counciled. "I
+  hope the ponies and the wagon ahead are safe, but they stirred
+  things up. If we go now we'll all be caught."<br>
+  <br>
+  The three wagons fell apart and halted wide of the trail where
+  the oak-trees made the blackest shade. The minutes dragged out
+  like hours, and the anxiety for the unprotected group on the
+  bluff made the three men frantic to hurry on. But Jondo's
+  patience equaled his courage, and he always took the least risk.
+  It was nearly midnight, and every noise was intensified. If a
+  mule but moved it set up a clatter of harness chains that seemed
+  to fill the valley.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last a horseman, coming suddenly from somewhere, rode swiftly
+  by each shadow-hidden wagon, half pausing at the sound of the
+  mules stamping in their places, and then he hurried up the
+  street.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Three against the crowd. If we must fight, fight to kill," Jondo
+  urged, as the ready firearms were placed for action.<br>
+  <br>
+  In a minute or two the crew broke out of the saloon and filled
+  the moonlit street, all talking and swearing in broken
+  Spanish.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not come yet!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Pedro say they be here to-morrow night!" "We wait till to-morrow
+  night!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And with many wild yells they fell back for a last debauch in the
+  drinking-den.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't understand it," Jondo declared. "That fellow who rode by
+  here ought to have located every son of us, but if they want to
+  wait till to-morrow night it suits me."<br>
+  <br>
+  An hour later, when the village was in a dead sleep, three wagons
+  slowly pulled up the long street and joined the waiting group at
+  the top, and the crossing over was complete.<br>
+  <br>
+  Dawn was breaking as our four wagons, followed by the ponies,
+  crept away in the misty light. As we trailed off into the unknown
+  land, I looked back at the bluff below which nestled the last
+  houses we were to see for seven hundred miles. And there,
+  outlined against the horizon, a Mexican stood watching us. I had
+  seen the same man one day riding up from the ravine southwest of
+  Fort Leavenworth. I had seen him dashing toward the river the
+  next day. I had watched him sitting across the street from the
+  Clarenden store in Independence.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wondered if it might have been this man who had hung about our
+  camp the evening before, and if it might have been this same man
+  who rode between us and the saloon mob, leading the crowd after
+  him and losing us on the side of the bluff. And as we had eluded
+  the Council Grove danger, I wondered what would come next, and if
+  he would be in it. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="V" id="V">V</a><br>
+  <br>
+  WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  "So I draw the world together, link by link."<br>
+                                          --KIPLING.<br></p>
+
+  <p>Day after day we pushed into the unknown wilderness. No
+  wagon-trains passed ours moving eastward. No moccasined track in
+  the dust of the trail gave hint of any human presence near. Where
+  to-day the Pullman car glides in smooth comfort, the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail lay like a narrow brown ribbon on the green
+  desolation of Nature's unconquered domain. Out beyond the region
+  of long-stemmed grasses, into the short-grass land, we pressed
+  across a pathless field-of-the-cloth-of-green, gemmed with
+  myriads of bright blossoms--broad acres on acres that the young
+  years of a coming century should change into great wheat-fields
+  to help fill the granaries of the world. How I reveled in
+  it--that far-stretching plain of flower-starred verdure! It was
+  my world--mine, unending, only softening out into lavender mists
+  that rimmed it round in one unbroken fold of velvety vapor.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we came to the Arkansas River--flat-banked,
+  sand-bottomed, wide, wandering, impossible thing--whose shallow
+  waters followed aimlessly the line of least resistance, back and
+  forth across its bed. Rivers had meant something to me. The big
+  muddy Missouri for Independence and Fort Leavenworth, that its
+  steamers might bring the soldiers, and my uncle's goods to their
+  places. The little rivers that ran into the big ones, to feed
+  their currents for down-stream service. The creeks, that boys
+  might wade and swim and fish, else Beverly would have lived
+  unhappily all his days. But here was a river that could neither
+  fetch nor carry. Nobody lived near it, and it had no deep waters
+  like our beloved, ugly old Missouri. I loved the level prairies,
+  but I didn't like that river, somehow. I felt exposed on its
+  blank, treeless borders, as if I stood naked and defenseless,
+  with no haven of cover from the enemies of the savage plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  The late afternoon was hot, the sky was dust-dimmed, the south
+  wind feverish and strength-sapping. At dawn we had sighted a peak
+  against the western horizon. We were approaching it now--a single
+  low butte, its front a sheer stone bluff facing southward toward
+  the river, it lifted its head high above the silent plains; and
+  to the north it stretched in a long gentle slope back to a
+  lateral rim along the landscape. The trail crept close about its
+  base, as if it would cling lovingly to this one shadow-making
+  thing amid all the open, blaring, sun-bound miles stretching out
+  on either side of it.<br>
+  <br>
+  As Beverly and I were riding in front of Mat's wagon, of which we
+  had elected ourselves the special guardians, Rex Krane came up
+  alongside Bill Banney's team in front of us. The young men were
+  no such hard-and-fast friends as Beverly and I. For some reason
+  they had little to say to each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is that what you call Pike's Peak, Bill?" Rex asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, the mountains are a month away. That's Pawnee Rock, and I'll
+  breathe a lot freer when we get out of sight of that infernal
+  thing," Bill replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's its offense?" Rex inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the peak of perdition, the bottomless pit turned inside
+  out," Bill declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't see the excuse for a rock sittin' out here, sayin'
+  nothin', bein' called all manner of unpleasant names," the young
+  Bostonian insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I reckon you'd find one mighty quick if you ever heard the
+  soldiers at Fort Leavenworth talk about it once. All the
+  plainsmen dread it. Jondo says more men have been killed right
+  around this old stone Sphinx than any other one spot in North
+  America, outside of battle-fields."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Happy thought! Do their ghosts rise up and walk at midnight?
+  Tell me more," Rex urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Nobody walks. Everybody runs. There was a terrible Indian fight
+  here once; the Pawnees in the king-row, and all the hosts of the
+  Midianites, and Hivites, and Jebusites, Kiowa, Comanche, and Kaw,
+  rag-tag and bobtail, trying to get 'em out. I don't know who won,
+  but the citadel got christened Pawnee Rock. It took a fountain
+  filled with blood to do it, though."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane gave a long whistle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe Bill is trying to scare him, Bev," I murmured.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe he's just precious wasting time," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And so," Bill continued, "it came to be a sort of rock of
+  execution where romances end and they die happily ever afterward.
+  The Indians get up there and, being able to read fine print with
+  ease as far away as either seacoast, they can watch any
+  wagon-train from the time it leaves Council Grove over east to
+  Bent's Fort on the Purgatoire Creek out west; and having counted
+  the number of men, and the number of bullets in each man's pouch,
+  they slip down and jump on the train as it goes by. If the men
+  can make it to beat them to the top of the rock, as they do
+  sometimes, they can keep the critters off, unless the Indians are
+  strong enough to keep them up there and sit around and wait till
+  they starve for water, and have to come down. It's a grim old
+  fortress, and never needs a garrison. Indians or white men up
+  there, sometimes they defend and sometimes attack. But it's a bad
+  place always, and on account of having our little girl along--"
+  Bill paused. "A fellow gets to see a lot of country out here," he
+  added.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Banney, just why didn't you join the army? You'd have a chance
+  to see a lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on,"
+  Rex Krane said, meditatively.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
+  likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone
+  please," Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this
+  country the most good. They are useful enough when they are
+  useful, Lord knows. And we'll always need a decent few of 'em
+  around to look after women and children, and invalids," he went
+  on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden that's going to
+  make these prairies worth something one of these days. The men
+  who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
+  That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about
+  army folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight
+  and measure, is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead
+  tired and this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due
+  as soon as it lays a bit, and we would be sort of protected here.
+  A tornado's a giant out in this country, you know."<br>
+  <br>
+  "This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling
+  public, does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of
+  it isn't a bad place to shoot from."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo
+  assured us. "I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got
+  to be careful. This point has a bad reputation, and I naturally
+  begin to <i>feel</i> Indians in the air as soon as I come in
+  sight of it. If we need the law of the trail anywhere, we need it
+  here," he admonished.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of
+  <i>bad</i> Indians, but nothing had happened to us yet, and we
+  could not believe that any danger was near us now, although we
+  were foolishly half hoping that there might be, for the
+  excitement of it.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill.
+  Where would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were
+  getting into camp order for the night.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it
+  had been in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and
+  fishes playing leap-frog.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout
+  lying flat on the top of old Pawnee Rock, up there, lookin'
+  benevolently down at us over the rim of his spectacles right
+  now," Bill replied, as he pulled the corral ropes out of the
+  wagon.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think so?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What Jondo said about his <i>feeling Indians</i>, I guess, but
+  he reads these prairie trails as easy as Robinson Crusoe read
+  Friday's footprints in the sand, and he hasn't read anything in
+  'em yet. Indians don't fight at night, anyhow. That's one good
+  thing. Get hold of that rope, Bev, and pull her up tight," Bill
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Every night our four wagons in camp made a hollow square, with
+  space enough allowed at the corners to enlarge the corral inside
+  for the stock. These corners were securely roped across from
+  wagon to wagon. To-night, however, the corral space was reduced
+  and the quartet of vehicles huddled closer together.<br>
+  <br>
+  At dusk the hot wind came sweeping in from the southwest, a wild,
+  lashing fury, swirling the sand in great spirals from the river
+  bed. Our fire was put out and the blackness of midnight fell upon
+  us. The horses were restless and the mules squealed and stamped.
+  All night the very spirit of fear seemed to fill the air.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just before daybreak a huge black storm-cloud came boiling up out
+  of the southwest, with a weird yellow band across the sky before
+  it. Overhead the stars shed a dim light on the shadowy face of
+  the plains. A sudden whisper thrilled the camp, chilling our
+  hearts within us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Indians near!" We all knew it in a flash.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo, on guard, had caught the sign first. Something creeping
+  across the trail, not a coyote, for it stood upright a moment,
+  then bent again, and was lost in the deep gloom. Jondo had
+  shifted to another angle of the outlook, had seen it again, and
+  again at a third point. It was encircling the camp. Then all of
+  us, except Jondo, began to see moving shapes. He saw nothing for
+  a long time, and our spirits rose again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he
+  stared into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal
+  wind. It's one darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big
+  plainsman replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The
+  trouble is that it is watching now. Everybody lay low. It will
+  come to life again. I hope there's only one of it."<br>
+  <br>
+  We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about
+  and fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.<br>
+  <br>
+  It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
+  Something creeping near, and nearer.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
+  beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung
+  like a weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a
+  form rose from the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both
+  arms toward us. And a low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our
+  ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their
+  foes out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a
+  little girl, no larger than our Mat--and again came the low call.
+  The voice was Indian, the accent Spanish, but the words were
+  English.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come to us!" Esmond Clarenden answered back in a clear, low
+  tone; and slowly and noiselessly the girl approached the
+  camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can feel it all now, although that was many years ago: the soft
+  starlight on the plains; the hot, still air holding its breath
+  against the oncoming tornado; the group of wagons making a deeper
+  shadow in the dull light; beyond us the bold front of old Pawnee
+  Rock, huge and gray in the gloom; our little company standing
+  close together, ready to hurl a shower of bullets if this proved
+  but the decoy of a hidden foe; and the girl with light step
+  drawing nearer. Clad in the picturesque garb of the Southwest
+  Indian, her hair hanging in a great braid over each shoulder, her
+  dark eyes fixed on us, she made a picture in that dusky setting
+  that an artist might not have given to his brush twice in a
+  lifetime on the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  A few feet from us she halted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Throw up your hands!" Jondo commanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  The slim brown arms were flung above the girl's head, and I
+  caught the glint of quaintly hammered silver bracelets, as she
+  stepped forward with that ease of motion that generations of
+  moccasined feet on sand and sod and stone can give.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take me," she cried, pleadingly. "The Mexicans steal me from my
+  people and bring me far away. They meet Kiowa. Kiowa beat me;
+  make me slave."<br>
+  <br>
+  She held up her hands. They were lacerated and bleeding. She
+  slipped the bright blanket from her brown shoulder. It was
+  bruised and swollen.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You go to Santa F&eacute;? Take me. I do you good, not bad."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What would these Kiowas do to us, then?"<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Bill Banney who spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They follow you--kill you."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, cheerful! I wish you were twins," Rex Krane said,
+  softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo lifted his hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me talk to her," he said.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then in her own language he got her story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here we are." He turned to us. "Stolen from her people by the
+  Mexicans, probably the same ones we passed in Council Grove;
+  traded to the Kiowas out here somewhere, beaten, and starved, and
+  held for ransom, or trade to some other tribe. They are over
+  there behind Pawnee Rock. They got sight of us somehow, but they
+  don't intend to bother us. They are on the lookout for a bigger
+  train. She has slipped away while they sleep. If we send her back
+  she will be beaten and made a slave. If we keep her, they will
+  follow us for a fight. They are fifty to our six. What shall we
+  do?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "We don't need any Indians to help us get into trouble. We are
+  sure enough of it without that," Bill Banney declared. "And
+  what's one Indian, anyhow? She's just--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just a little orphan girl like Mat," Rex Krane finished his
+  sentence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Bill frowned, but made no reply.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl was standing outside the corral, listening to all
+  that was said, her face giving no sign of the struggle between
+  hope and despair that must have striven within her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances." Beverly's
+  boyish voice had a defiant tone, for the spirit of adventure was
+  strong within him. The girl turned quickly and a great light
+  leaped into her eyes at the boy's words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Save a life and lose ours. It's not the rule of the plains,
+  but--there's a higher law like that somewhere, Clarenden," Jondo
+  said, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl came swiftly toward Uncle Esmond and stood upright
+  before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will not hide the truth. I go back to Kiowas. They sell me for
+  big treasure. They will not harm you," she said. "I stay with
+  you, they say you steal me, and they come at the first bird's
+  song and kill you every one. They are so many."<br>
+  <br>
+  She stood motionless before him, the seal of grim despair on her
+  young face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your name?" Esmond Clarenden asked. "Po-a-be. In your
+  words, `Little Blue Flower,'" the girl said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then, Little Blue Flower, you must stay with us."<br>
+  <br>
+  She pointed toward the eastern sky where a faint light was
+  beginning to show above the horizon. "See, the day comes!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then we will break camp now," my uncle said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not in the face of this storm, Clarenden," Jondo declared. "You
+  can fight an Indian. You can't do a thing but 'hold fast' in one
+  of these hurricanes."<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was still and hot. The black cloud swept swiftly onward,
+  with the weird yellow glow before it. In the solitude of the
+  plains the trail showed like a ghostly pathway of peril. Before
+  us loomed that grim rock bluff, behind whose crest lay the
+  sleeping band of Kiowas. It was only because they slept that
+  Little Blue Flower could steal away in hope of rescue.<br>
+  <br>
+  Hotter grew the air and darker the swiftly rolling clouds; black
+  and awful stood old Pawnee Rock with the silent menace of its
+  sleeping enemy. In the stillness of the pause before the storm
+  burst we heard Jondo's voice commanding us. With our first care
+  for the frightened stock, we grouped ourselves together as he
+  ordered close under the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly an angry wind leaped out of the sky, beating back the
+  hot dead air with gigantic flails of fury. Then the storm broke
+  with tornado rage and cloudburst floods, and in its track terror
+  reigned. Beverly and I clung together, and, holding a hand of
+  each, Mat Nivers crouched beside us, herself strong in this
+  second test of courage as she had been in the camp that night at
+  Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have never been afraid of storms and I can never understand why
+  timid folk should speak of them as of a living, self-directing
+  force bent purposely on human destruction. I love the splendor of
+  the lightning and the thunder's peal. From our earliest years,
+  Beverly and Mat and I had watched the flood-waters of the
+  Missouri sweep over the bottomlands, and we had heard the winds
+  rave, and the cannonading of the angry heavens. But this mad
+  blast of the prairie storm was like nothing we had ever seen or
+  heard before. A yellow glare filled the sky, a half-illumined,
+  evil glow, as if to hide what lay beyond it. One breathed in fine
+  sand, and tasted the desert dust. Behind it, all copper-green, a
+  broad, lurid band swept up toward the zenith. Under its weird,
+  unearthly light, the prairies, and everything upon them, took on
+  a ghastly hue. Then came the inky-black storm-cloud--long,
+  funnel-shaped, pendulous--and in its deafening roar and the thick
+  darkness that could be felt, and the awful sweep of its
+  all-engulfing embrace, the senses failed and the very breath of
+  life seemed beaten away. The floods fell in streams, hot, then
+  suddenly cold. And then a fusillade of hail bombarded the flat
+  prairies, defenseless beneath the munitions of the heavens. But
+  in all the wild, mad blackness, in the shriek and crash of maniac
+  winds, in the swirl of many waters, and chill and fury of the
+  threshing hail, the law of the trail failed not: "Hold fast." And
+  with our hands gripped in one another's, we children kept the
+  law.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at the moment when destruction seemed upon us, the long
+  swinging cloud--funnel lifted. We heard it passing high above us.
+  Then it dropped against the face of old Pawnee Rock, that must
+  have held the trail law through all the centuries of storms that
+  have beaten against its bold, stern front. One tremendous blast,
+  one crashing boom, as if the foundations of the earth were broken
+  loose, and the thing had left us far behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  Daylight burst upon us in a moment, and the blue heavens smiled
+  down on the clean-washed prairies. No homes, no crops, no
+  orchards were left in ruins in those days to mark the cyclone's
+  wrath on wilderness trails. As the darkness lifted we gathered
+  ourselves together to take hold of life again and to defend
+  ourselves from our human enemy.<br>
+  <br>
+  A shower of arrows from the top of the bluff might rain upon us
+  at any moment, yelling warriors might rush upon us, or a ring of
+  riders encircle us. It was in times like this that I learned how
+  quickly men can get the mastery.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and Esmond Clarenden did not delay a minute in protecting
+  the camp and setting it in order, taking inventory of the lost
+  and searching for the missing. Three of our number, with one of
+  the ponies, were missing.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had crouched in a protected angle at the base of the
+  bluff, and when we found her she was calmly smoking her pipe.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yo' skeered of this little puff?" she queried. "Yo' bettah see a
+  simoon on the desset, then. This here--just a racket. What's come
+  of that little redskin?"<br>
+  <br>
+  She was not to be found. Nor was there any trace of Rex Krane
+  anywhere. In consternation we scanned the prairies far and wide,
+  but only level green distances were about us, holding no sign of
+  life. We lived hours in those watching minutes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly Beverly gave a shout, and we saw Little Blue Flower
+  running swiftly from the sloping side of the bluff toward the
+  camp. Behind her stalked the young New-Englander.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I went up to see what she was in such a hurry for to see," he
+  explained, simply. "I calculated it would be as interestin' to me
+  as to her, and if anything was about to cut loose"--he laid a
+  hand carelessly on his revolver--"why, I'd help it along. The
+  little pink pansy, it seems, went to look after our friends, the
+  enemy," Rex went on. "The hail nearly busted that old rock open.
+  I thought once it had. The ponies are scattered and likewise the
+  Kiowas. Gone helter-skelter, like the--tornado. The thing hit
+  hard up there. Some ponies dead, and mebby an Indian or two. I
+  didn't hunt 'em up. I can't use 'em that way," he added. "So I
+  just said, 'Pax vobiscum!' and a lot of it, and came kittering
+  back."<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower's eyes glistened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gone, all gone. The rain god drove them away. Now I know I may
+  go with you. The rain god loves you."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was to Beverly, and not to my uncle, that her eyes turned as
+  she spoke, but he was not even listening to her. To him she was
+  merely an Indian. She seemed more than that to me, and therein
+  lay the difference between us.<br>
+  <br>
+  If she had been interesting under the starlight, in the light of
+  day she became picturesque, a beautiful type of her race, silent,
+  alert of countenance, with big, expressive, black eyes, and long,
+  heavy braids of black hair. With her brilliant blanket about her
+  shoulders, a turquoise pendant on a leather band at her throat,
+  silver bracelets on her brown arms, she was as pleasing as an
+  Indian maiden could be--adding a touch of picturesque life to
+  that wonderful journey westward from Pawnee Rock to Santa
+  F&eacute;. Aunty Boone alone resented her presence among us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You can trust a nigger," she growled, "'cause you know they none
+  of 'em no 'count. But you can't tell about this Injun, whether
+  she's good or bad. I lets that sort of fish alone."<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower looked up at her with steady gaze and made no
+  reply.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out of that morning's events I learned a lasting lesson, and I
+  know now that the influence of Rex Krane on my life began that
+  day, as I recalled how he had followed Aunty Boone about the dark
+  corners of the little trading-post on the Neosho; and how he had
+  looked at Mat Nivers once when Uncle Esmond had suggested his
+  turning back to Independence; and how he had gone before all of
+  us, the vanguard, to the top of the bluff west of Council Grove;
+  and now he had followed this Indian girl. From that time I knew
+  in my boy heart that this tall, careless Boston youth had a
+  zealous care for the safety of women and children. How much care,
+  events would run swiftly on to show me. But welded into my life
+  from that hour was the meaning of a man's high, chivalric duty.
+  And among all the lessons that the old trail taught to me, none
+  served me more than this one that came to me on that sweet May
+  morning beneath the shadow of Pawnee Rock. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VI" id="VI">VI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  SPYING OUT THE LAND</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    City of the Holy Faith,<br>
+      In thy streets so dim with age,<br>
+    Do I read not Faith's decay,<br>
+      But the Future's heritage.<br>
+              -LILIAN WHITING.<br></p>
+
+  <p>Day was passing and the shadows were already beginning to grow
+  purple in the valleys, long before the golden light had left the
+  opal-crowned peaks of the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains beyond
+  them.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the wide crest of a rocky ridge our wagons halted. Behind us
+  the long trail stretched back, past mountain height and
+  ca&ntilde;on wall, past barren slope and rolling green prairie,
+  on to where the wooded ravines hem in the Missouri's yellow
+  floods.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before us lay a level plain, edged round with high mesas, over
+  which snowy-topped mountain peaks kept watch. A sandy plain,
+  checkered across by verdant-banded arroyos, and splotched with
+  little clumps of trees and little fields of corn. In the heart of
+  it all was Santa F&eacute;, a mere group of dust-brown adobe
+  blocks--silent, unsmiling, expressionless--the city of the
+  Spanish Mexican, centuries old and centuries primitive.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our tired mules slackened their traces and drooped to rest
+  after the long up-climb, Esmond Clarenden called out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come here, children. Yonder is the end of the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  We gathered eagerly about him, a picture in ourselves, maybe, in
+  an age of picturesque things; four men, bronzed and bearded; two
+  sturdy boys; Mat Nivers, no longer a little girl, it seemed now,
+  with the bloom of health on her tanned cheeks, and the smile of
+  good nature in wide gray eyes; beside her, the Indian maiden,
+  Little Blue Flower, slim, brown, lithe of motion, brief of
+  speech; and towering back of all, the glistening black face of
+  the big, silent African woman.<br>
+  <br>
+  So we stood looking out toward that northwest plain where the
+  trail lost itself among the low adobe huts huddled together
+  beside the glistening waters of the Santa F&eacute; River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane was the first to speak.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So that's what we've come out for to see, is it?" he mused,
+  aloud. "That's the precious old town that we've dodged Indians,
+  and shot rattlesnakes, and sunburnt our noses, and rain-soaked
+  our dress suits for! That's why we've pillowed our heads on the
+  cushiony cactus and tramped through purling sands, and blistered
+  our hands pullin' at eider-down ropes, and strained our
+  leg-muscles goin' down, and busted our lungs comin' up, and
+  clawed along the top edge of the world with nothin' but healthy
+  climate between us and the bottom of the bottomless pit. Humph!
+  That's what you call Santa F&eacute;! 'The city of the Holy
+  Faith!' Well, I need a darned lot of 'holy faith' to make me see
+  any city there. It's just a bunch of old yellow brick-kilns to
+  me, and I 'most wish now I'd stayed back at Independence and
+  hunted dog-tooth violets along the Big Blue."<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's not Boston, if that's what you were looking for; at least
+  there's no Bunker Hill Monument nor Back Bay anywhere in sight.
+  But I reckon it's the best they've got. I'm tired enough to take
+  what's offered and keep still," Bill Banney declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  I, too, wanted to keep still. I had only a faint memory of a real
+  city. It must have been St. Louis, for there was a wharf, and a
+  steamboat and a busy street, and soft voices--speaking a foreign
+  tongue. But the pictures I had seen, and the talk I had heard,
+  coupled with a little boy's keen imagination, had built up a very
+  different Santa F&eacute; in my mind. At that moment I was
+  homesick for Fort Leavenworth, through and through homesick, for
+  the first time since that April day when I had sat on the bluff
+  above the Missouri River while the vision of the plains descended
+  upon me. Everything seemed so different to-night, as if a gulf
+  had widened between us and all the nights behind us.<br>
+  <br>
+  We went into camp on the ridge, with the journey's goal in plain
+  view. And as we sat down together about the fire after supper we
+  forgot the hardships of the way over which we had come. The pine
+  logs blazed cheerily, and as the air grew chill we drew nearer
+  together about them as about a home fireside.<br>
+  <br>
+  The long June twilight fell upon the landscape. The pi&ntilde;on
+  and scrubby cedars turned to dark blotches on the slopes. The
+  valley swam in a purple mist. The silence of evening was broken
+  only by a faint bird-note in the bushes, and the fainter call of
+  some wild thing stealing forth at nightfall from its daytime
+  retreat. Behind us the mesas and headlands loomed up black and
+  sullen, but far before us the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains lifted
+  their glorified crests, with the sun's last radiance bathing them
+  in crimson floods.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat in silence for a long time, for nobody cared to talk.
+  Presently we heard Aunty Boone's low, penetrating voice inside
+  the wagon corral:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You pore gob of ugliness! Yo' done yo' best, and it's green corn
+  and plenty of watah and all this grizzly-gray grass you can stuff
+  in now. It's good for a mule to start right, same as a man.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The low voice trailed off into weird little whoops of approval.
+  Then the woman wandered away to the edge of the bluff and sat
+  until late that night, looking out at the strange, entrancing New
+  Mexican landscape.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To-morrow we put on our best clothes and enter the city," my
+  uncle broke the silence. "We have managed to pull through so far,
+  and we intend to keep on pulling till we unload back at
+  Independence again. But these are unsafe times and we are in an
+  unsafe country. We are going to do business and get out of it
+  again as soon as possible. I shall ask you all to be ready to
+  leave at a minute's notice, if you are coming back with me!"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Now you see why I didn't join the army, don't you, Krane?" Bill
+  Banney said, aside. "I wanted to work under a real general."<br>
+  <br>
+  Then turning to my uncle, he added:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm already contracted for the round trip, Clarenden."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are going to start back just as if there were no dangers to
+  be met?" Rex Krane inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "As if there were dangers to be <i>met</i>, not run from," Esmond
+  Clarenden replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clarenden," the young Bostonian began, "you got away from that
+  drunken mob at Independence with your children, your mules, and
+  your big Daniel Boone. You started out when war was ragin' on the
+  Mexican frontier, and never stopped a minute because you had to
+  come it alone from Council Grove. You shook yourself and family
+  right through the teeth of that Mexican gang layin' for you back
+  there. You took Little Trailing Arbutus at Pawnee Rock out of
+  pure sympathy when you knew it meant a fight at sun-up, six
+  against fifty. And there would have been a bloody one, too, but
+  for that merciful West India hurricane bustin' up the show. You
+  pulled us up the Arkansas River, and straddled the Gloriettas,
+  with every danger that could ever be just whistlin' about our
+  ears. And now you sit there and murmur softly that 'we are in an
+  unsafe country and these are unsafe times,' so we'd better be
+  toddlin' back home right soon. I want to tell <i>you</i>
+  something now."<br>
+  <br>
+  He paused and looked at Mat Nivers. Always he looked at Mat
+  Nivers, who since the first blush one noonday long ago, so it
+  seemed, now, never appeared to know or care where he looked. He
+  must have had such a sister himself; I felt sure of that now.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to tell <i>you</i>," Rex repeated, "that I'm goin' to
+  stay with you. There's something <i>safe</i> about you. And
+  then," he added, carelessly, as he gazed out toward the darkening
+  plain below us, "my mother always said you could tie to a man who
+  was good to children. And you've been good to this infant
+  Kentuckian here."<br>
+  <br>
+  He flung out a hand toward Bill Banney without looking away from
+  the open West. "When you want to start back to God's country and
+  the land of Plymouth Rocks and Pawnee Rocks, I'm ready to trot
+  along."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm glad to hear you say that, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said. "I
+  shall need all the help I can get on the way back. Because we got
+  through safely we cannot necessarily count on a safe return. I
+  may need you in Santa F&eacute;, too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then command me," Rex replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  He looked toward Mat again, but she and Little Blue Flower were
+  coiling their long hair in fantastic fashion about their heads,
+  and laughing like school-girls together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower was as a shy brown fawn following us. She had
+  a way of copying Mat's manner, and she spoke less of Indian and
+  Spanish and more of English from day to day. She had laid aside
+  her Indian dress for one of Mat's neat gingham gowns. I think she
+  tried hard to forget her race in everything except her prayers,
+  for her own people had all been slain by Mexican ruffians. We
+  could not have helped liking her if we had tried to do so. Yet
+  that invisible race barrier that kept a fixed gulf between us and
+  Aunty Boone separated us also from the lovable little Indian
+  lass, albeit the gulf was far less deep and impassable.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night when she and Mat scampered away to the family wagon
+  together, she seemed somehow to really belong to us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently Jondo and Rex Krane and Bill and Beverly rolled their
+  blankets about them and went to sleep, leaving Esmond Clarenden
+  and myself alone beside the dying fire. The air was sharp and the
+  night silence deepened as the stars came into the skies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why don't you go to bed, Gail?" my uncle asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm not sleepy. I'm homesick," I replied. "Come here, boy." He
+  opened his arms to me, and I nestled in their embrace.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You've grown a lot in these two months, little man," he said,
+  softly. "You are a brave-hearted plainsman, and a good, strong
+  little limb when it comes to endurance, but just once in a while
+  all of us need a mothering touch. It keeps us sweet, my boy. It
+  keeps us sweet and fit to live."<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, many a time in the years that followed did the loving embrace
+  and the gentle words of this gentle, strong man come back to
+  comfort me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me tell you something, Gail. I'm going to need a boy like
+  you to help me a lot before we leave Santa F&eacute;, and I shall
+  count on you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a noise at the far side of the corral seemed to disturb
+  the stock. A faint stir of awakening or surprise--just a hint in
+  the air. All was still in a moment. Then it came again. We
+  listened. Something, an indefinite something, somewhere, was
+  astir. The surprise became unrest, anxiety, fear, among the
+  mules.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Wait here, Gail. I'll see what's up," Uncle Esmond said, in a
+  low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  He hurried away toward the corral and I slipped back in the
+  shadow of a rock and leaned against it to wait.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim beams of a starlit New Mexican sky I could see clearly
+  out toward the valley, but behind the camp all was darkness. As I
+  waited, hidden by the shadows, suddenly the flap of the
+  family-wagon cover lifted and Little Blue Flower slid out as
+  softly as a cat walks in the dust. She was dressed in her own
+  Indian garb now, with her bright blanket drawn picturesquely
+  about her head and shoulders. Silently she moved about the camp,
+  peering toward the shadows hiding me. Then with noiseless step
+  she slipped toward where Beverly Clarenden lay, his boyish face
+  upturned to the stars, sleeping the dreamless sleep of youth and
+  health. I leaned forward and stared hard as the girl approached
+  him. I saw her drop down on one knee beside him, and, bending
+  over him, she gently kissed his forehead. She rose and gave one
+  hurried look around the place and then, like a bird lifting its
+  wings for flight, she threw up her arms, and in another moment
+  she sprang to the edge of the ridge and slipped from view. I
+  followed, only to see her gliding swiftly away, farther and
+  farther, along the dim trail, until the shadows swallowed her
+  from my sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  A low whinny from the corral caught my ear, followed by a rush of
+  horses' feet. As I slipped into my place again to wait for my
+  uncle to return, the smoldering logs blazed out suddenly,
+  lighting up the form of a man who appeared just beyond the fire,
+  so that I saw the face distinctly. Then he, too, was gone,
+  following the way the Indian girl had taken, until he lost
+  himself in the misty dullness of the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently Esmond Clarenden came back to the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, the pony we lost in that storm at Pawnee Rock has come
+  back to us. It was standing outside the corral, waiting to get
+  in, just as if it had lost us for a couple of hours. It is in
+  good condition, too."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How could it ever get here?" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Any one of a dozen ways," my uncle replied. "It may have run far
+  that stormy morning when it broke out of the corral, and possibly
+  some party coming over the Cimarron Trail picked it up and roved
+  on this way. There is no telling how it got here, since it keeps
+  still itself about the matter. Losing and finding and losing
+  again is the law of events on the plains."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But why should it find us right here to-night, like it had been
+  led back?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the miracle of it, Gail. It is always the strange thing
+  that really happens here. In years to come, if you ever tell the
+  truth about this trip, it will not be believed. When this isn't
+  the frontier any longer, the story of the trail will be accounted
+  impossible."<br>
+  <br>
+  Everything seemed impossible to me as I sat there staring at the
+  dying fire. Presently I remembered what I had seen while my uncle
+  was away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower has run away," I said, "and I saw the Mexican
+  that came to Fort Leavenworth the day before I twisted my ankle.
+  He slipped by here just a minute ago. I know, for I saw his face
+  when the logs flared up."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most
+  remarkable memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony
+  after us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I
+  ever see him before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But
+  dreams don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are
+  needed."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it
+  comes to doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a
+  bit reckless sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them
+  level."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't I do, too?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you
+  mustn't forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our
+  dreams we must fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who
+  come after us may be the better for our having them. What was it
+  you said about Little Blue Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten
+  her for the moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's gone to Santa F&eacute;, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle
+  Esmond? Tell me all about things," I urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
+  freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't
+  know what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just
+  felt Indian, as Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you,
+  Gail, that it may have been the Mexican who got our pony for us.
+  He is a strange fellow, walks like a cat, has ears like a timber
+  wolf, and the cunning of a fox."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me
+  an important message, and he waited at Independence to see us
+  off. Do you remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council
+  Grove? I think he followed the Mexican spy across the river to
+  our camp and sent him on east. Then he went back and got the
+  crowd all mixed up by his report, while their own man scouted the
+  trail out there for miles all night. He is the man who put you
+  through town and decoyed the ruffians to one side. He located us
+  after we had crossed the river, and then broke up their meeting
+  and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That is the
+  way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
+  and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sooner or later however," my uncle went on, "we will have to
+  reckon with that Kiowa tribe for stealing their captive. They
+  meant to return her for a big ransom price.... Great Heavens,
+  Gail! You seem like a man to me to-night instead of my little boy
+  back at the fort. The plains bring years to us instead of months,
+  with just one crossing. I am counting on you not to tell all
+  you've been told and all you've seen. I can be sure of you if you
+  can keep things to yourself. You'd better get to sleep now. There
+  will be plenty to see over in Santa F&eacute;. And there is
+  always danger afoot. But remember, it is the coward who finds the
+  most trouble in this world. Do your part with a gentleman's heart
+  and a hero's hand, and you'll get to the end of every trail
+  safely. Now go to bed."<br>
+  <br>
+  Where I lay that night I could see a wide space of star-gemmed
+  sky, the blue night-sky of the Southwest, and I wondered, as I
+  looked up into the starry deeps, how God could keep so many
+  bright bodies afield up there, and yet take time to guard all the
+  wandering children of men.<br>
+  <br>
+  With the day-dawn the strange events of the night seemed as
+  unreal as the vanishing night-shadows. The bluest skies of a
+  blue-sky land curved in fathomless majesty over the yellow valley
+  of the Santa F&eacute;. Against its borders loomed the silent
+  mountain ranges--purple-shaddowed, silver-topped Ortiz and
+  Jemez, Sandia and Sangre-de-Christo. Dusty and deserted lay the
+  trail, save that here and there a group of dark-faced carriers of
+  firewood prodded on their fagot-laden burros toward the distant
+  town. As our wagons halted at the sandy borders of an arroyo the
+  brown-clad form of a priest rose up from the shade of a group of
+  scrubby pi&ntilde;on-trees beside the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden lifted his hat in greeting.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are you going our way? We can give you a ride," he paused to
+  say.<br>
+  <br>
+  The man's face was very dark, but it was a young, strong face,
+  and his large, dark eyes were full of the fire of life. When he
+  spoke his voice was low and musical.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thank you. I go toward the mountains. You stay here long?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Only to dispose of my goods. My business is brief," Esmond
+  Clarenden declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  The good man leaned forward as if to see each face there,
+  sweeping in everything at one glance. Then he looked down at the
+  ground.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These are troublesome days. War is only a temporary evil, but it
+  makes for hate, and hate kills as it dies. Love lives and gives
+  life." A smile lighted his eyes, though his lips were firm. "I
+  wish you well. Among friends or enemies the one haven of safety
+  always is the holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond bowed his head reverently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find it beside the trail near the river. The walls are
+  very old and strong, but not so old as hate, nor so strong as
+  love. A little street runs from it, crooked--six houses away.
+  Peace be to all of you." He broke off suddenly and his last
+  sentence was spoken in a clear, strong tone unlike the gentler
+  voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thank you, Father!" Jondo said, as the priest passed his
+  wagon.<br>
+  <br>
+  The holy man gave him one swift, searching glance. Then lifting
+  his right hand as if in blessing, and slowly dropping it until
+  the forefinger pointed toward the west, he passed on his way.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's brown cheek flushed and the lines about his mouth grew
+  hard.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take my place, Bev," he said, as he left his wagon and joined
+  Esmond Clarenden.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two spoke earnestly together. Then Jondo mounted Beverly's
+  pony.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you need me--" I heard him say, and he turned away and rode
+  in the direction the priest had taken.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond offered no explanation for this sudden action, and
+  his sunny face was stern.<br>
+  <br>
+  Usually wagon-trains were spied out long before they reached the
+  city, and a rabble attended their entry. To-day we moved along
+  quietly until the trail became a mere walled lane. On either side
+  one-story adobe huts sat with their backs to the street. No
+  windows opened to the front, and only a wooden door or a closed
+  gateway stared in blank unfriendliness at the passer-by. Little
+  straggling lanes led off aimlessly on either side, as narrow and
+  silent as the strange terminal of the long trail itself.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was only a boy, with the heart of a boy and the eyes of a boy.
+  I could only feel; I could not understand the spell of that hour.
+  But to me everything was alluring, wrapt as it was in the mystery
+  of a civilization old here when Plymouth Rock felt the first
+  Pilgrim's foot, or Pawnee Rock stared at the first bold plainsman
+  of the pale face and the conquering soul.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was riding beside Beverly's wagon as we neared the quaint,
+  centuries-old, adobe church of San Miguel, rising tall and silent
+  above the low huts about it, its rough walls suggesting a
+  fortress of strength, while its triple towers might be an outlook
+  for a guardsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look at that church. Bev, I wonder how old it is," I
+  exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I should say about a thousand years and a day," Beverly
+  declared. "See that flopsy steeple thing! It looks like
+  building-blocks stacked up there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe this is the sanctuary that priest was talking about," I
+  suggested. "He said the walls were old as hate and strong as
+  love, with a crooked street beside it somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, you sponge! Soaking up everything you see and hear. I wonder
+  you sleep nights for fear the wind will tell the pine trees
+  something you'll miss," Beverly declared. "I can tell a horse's
+  age by its teeth, but churches don't have teeth. Go and ask Mat
+  about it. She knows when the De Sotos and Cort&eacute;ses and all
+  the other Spanish grandaddees came to Mexico."<br>
+  <br>
+  I had just turned back alongside of Mat's wagon--she was always
+  our book of ready reference--when a little girl suddenly dashed
+  out of a walled lane opening into the street behind us. She
+  stopped in the middle of the road, almost under my pony's feet,
+  then with a shout of laughter she dashed into the deep doorway of
+  the church and stood there, peering out at me with eyes brimful
+  of mischief.<br>
+  <br>
+  I brought my pony back on its haunches suddenly. I had seen this
+  girl before. The big dark eyes, the straight little nose, the
+  curve of the pink cheek, the china-smooth chin and neck, and,
+  crowning all, the cloud of golden hair shading her forehead and
+  falling in tangled curls behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  I did not notice all these features now. It was only the eyes,
+  dark eyes, somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, and maybe
+  the halo of hair that had been in my vision on that day when
+  Beverly and Mat Nivers and I sat on the parade-ground facing a
+  sudden turn in our life trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared at the eyes now, only half conscious that the girl was
+  laughing at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You big brown bob-cat! You look like you had slept in the Hondo
+  'royo all your life," she cried, and turned to run away
+  again.<br>
+  <br>
+  As she did so a dark face peered round the corner of the church
+  from the crooked street beside it. A sudden gleam of white teeth
+  and glistening eyes, a sudden leap and grip, and a boy, larger
+  than Beverly, caught the little girl by the shoulders and shook
+  her viciously.<br>
+  <br>
+  She screamed and struggled. Then, with a wild shriek as he
+  clutched at her curls, she wrenched herself away and plunged
+  inside the church. The boy dived in after her. Another scream,
+  and I had dropped from my pony and leaped across the road. I
+  pushed open the door against the two struggling together. With
+  one grip at his coat-collar I broke his hold on the little girl
+  and flung him outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have a faint recollection of a priest hurrying down the aisle
+  toward the fighting children, as the little girl, freed from her
+  assailant, dashed out of the door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He jumped at her first, and shook her and pulled her hair," I
+  cried, as the priest caught me by the shoulder. "I'm not going to
+  see anybody pitched into, not a little girl, anyhow."<br>
+  <br>
+  I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At
+  the corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her
+  eyes blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her
+  face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and"--her voice softened and the
+  defiant eyes grew mischievous--"you aren't a bob-cat. You're
+  a--Look out!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She shouted the last words and disappeared up the narrow, crooked
+  street, just as a fragment of rock whizzed over my shoulder. I
+  jumped on my pony to dash away, when another rock just missed my
+  head, and I saw the boy, Marcos, beside the church, ready for a
+  third hurl. His black eyes flashed fire, and the grin of malice
+  on his face showed all his fine white teeth.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was as mad as a boy can be. Instead of fleeing, I spurred my
+  pony straight at him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You little beast, I dare you to throw that rock at me! I dare
+  you!" I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy dropped the missile and sped away after the girl. I
+  followed in time to see them enter a doorway, six or seven houses
+  up the way. Then I turned back, and in a minute I had overtaken
+  our wagons trailing down to the ford of the Santa F&eacute;
+  River.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought mebby you'd gone back after Jondo and that holy
+  podder," Rex Krane greeted me. "Better begin to wink naturally
+  and look a little pleasanter now. We'll be in the Plazzer in two
+  or three minutes."<br>
+  <br>
+  The drivers flourished their whips, the mules caught their
+  spirit, and with bump and lurch and rattle we swung down the
+  narrow crack between adobe walls that ended before the old
+  Exchange Hotel at the corner of the Plaza.<br>
+  <br>
+  This open square in the center of the city was shaded by trees
+  and littered with refuse. The Palace of the Governors fronted it
+  along the entire north side, a long, low, one-story structure
+  whose massive adobe walls defy the wearing years. Compared to the
+  kingly palaces of my imagination, this royal dwelling seemed a
+  very commonplace thing, and the wide portal, or veranda, that ran
+  along its front looked like one of the sheds about the barracks
+  at the fort rather than an entranceway for rulers. Yet this was
+  the house of a ruler hostile to that flag to which I had thrown a
+  good-by kiss, up at Fort Leavenworth.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the other three sides of the Plaza were other low adobe
+  buildings, for the business of the city faced this central
+  square.<br>
+  <br>
+  A crowd was gathered there when we reached it. Somebody standing
+  before the Palace of the Governors was haranguing in fiery
+  Spanish, if gesture and oral vehemence are true tokens.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our wagons rumbled up to the corner of the square the crowd
+  broke up with a shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Los Americanos! Los Carros!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The cry went up everywhere as the rabble left the speaker to
+  flock about us--men, women, children, Mexican, Spanish, Indian,
+  with now and then a Saxon face among them. Our outfit was as well
+  appointed as such a journey's end permitted. We were in our best
+  clothes--clean-shaven gentlemen, well-dressed boys, and one girl,
+  neat and comely in a dark-blue gown of thin stuff with white lace
+  at throat and wrist; and last, and biggest of all, Aunty Boone,
+  in a bright-green lawn with little white dots all over it.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat on my pony beside my uncle's wagon, I caught sight of
+  the slim figure of Little Blue Flower, well back in the shade of
+  the Plaza. She was watching Beverly, who sat in Jondo's wagon,
+  staring at the crowd and seeing no one in particular. A minute
+  later a tall young Indian boy stepped in front of her, and when
+  he moved away she was gone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Many men came forward to greet Esmond Clarenden, and there were
+  many inquiries regarding his goods and many exclamations of
+  surprise that he had come alone with so valuable a cargo.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was the first time that Beverly and I had seen him among his
+  equals. At Fort Leavenworth, where the army overruled everything
+  else, men stood above him in authority or below him in business
+  affairs; and while he never cringed to the one, nor patronized
+  the other, where there are no competitors there are no true
+  measures. That day in the Plaza of Santa F&eacute; the merchant
+  was in his own kingdom, where commerce stood above everything
+  else.<br>
+  <br>
+  Moreover, this American merchant, following a danger-girt trail,
+  had come in fearlessly, and those men of the Plaza knew that he
+  was one to exact value for value in all his dealings. But I
+  believe that his real power lay in his ready smile, his courtesy,
+  his patience, and his up-bubbling good nature that made him a
+  friendship-builder.<br>
+  <br>
+  Among the men who came to make acquaintance with the American
+  trader was a Mexican merchant. Evidently he was a man of some
+  importance, for an interpreter hastened to introduce him,
+  explaining that this man had been away on a journey of some weeks
+  among the mines of New Mexico and the Southwest, and only the day
+  before he had come in from Taos.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find him a prince of merchants, a sound, unprejudiced
+  business man. His name is Felix Narveo," the American interpreter
+  added.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two men shook hands, greeting each other in the Spanish
+  tongue. This Felix Narveo was well dressed and well groomed, but
+  I recognized him at once as the Mexican of Fort Leavenworth and
+  Independence and Council Grove.<br>
+  <br>
+  There was one man in that company, however, who did not come
+  forward at all. When I first caught sight of him he was looking
+  at me. I stared back at him with a boy's curiosity, but he did
+  not take his eyes from me until I had dropped my own. After that
+  I watched him keenly. He seemed almost too fair for a Mexican--a
+  tall, spare-built man with black hair, and eyes so steely blue
+  that they were almost black. Everywhere I saw him--at the corners
+  of the little crowd and in the thick of it. He was an easy mark,
+  for he towered above the rest, and, being slender, he seemed to
+  worm his way quickly from place to place. At sight of him, Aunty
+  Boone, who had been peering out with shining eyes, drew her head
+  in as quick as a snake, under the shadow of the wagon cover, and
+  her eyes grew dull. He had not seen her, but I could see that he
+  was watching the remainder of us, and especially my uncle; and I
+  began to feel afraid of him and to wish that he would leave the
+  Plaza. It was years ago that all this happened, and yet to-day my
+  fear of that man still sticks in my memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  When he turned away, suddenly I caught sight of the boy, whom I
+  had flung out of the church, standing behind him, the boy whom
+  the little girl had called Marcos. Although his face was dark and
+  the man's was fair, there was a strong likeness between the
+  two.<br>
+  <br>
+  This Marcos stared insolently at all of us. Then with a laugh and
+  a grimace at me, he ran after the man and they disappeared
+  together around the corner of the Palace of the Governors. And in
+  the rush of strange sights I forgot them both for a time. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VII" id="VII">VII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  "SANCTUARY"</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Our dwelling-place in all generations.--Psalms xc, 1.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  They are wonderful to me still--those few brief days that
+  followed. While Esmond Clarenden was forcing his business
+  transactions to a speedy climax, he was all the time foreseeing
+  Santa F&eacute; under the United States Government. He had not
+  come here as a spy, nor a speculator, but as a commerce-builder,
+  knowing that the same business life would go on when the war
+  cloud lifted, and that the same men who had made the plains
+  commerce profitable under the Mexican flag would not be exiled
+  when the Stars and Stripes should float above the old Palace of
+  the Governors. Belief in the ethics of his calling and trust in
+  manhood were ever a large part of his stock in trade, making him
+  dare to go where he chose to go, and to do what he willed to
+  do.<br>
+  <br>
+  But no concern for commerce nor extension of national territory
+  disturbed our young minds in those sunlit days, as Mat and
+  Beverly and I looked with the big, quick-seeing eyes of youth on
+  this new strange world at the end of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were all together in the deserted dining-room on our first
+  evening in Santa F&eacute; when the man whom I had seen on the
+  Plaza strolled leisurely in. He sat down at one of the farthest
+  tables from us, and his eyes, glistening like blue-black steel,
+  were fixed on us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Once at Fort Leavenworth I had watched in terror as a bird
+  fluttered helplessly toward a still, steel-eyed snake holding it
+  in thrall. And just at the moment when its enemy was ready to
+  strike, Jondo had happened by and shot the snake's head off. The
+  same terror possessed me now, and I began half-consciously to
+  long for Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the midst of new sights I had hardly thought of him since he
+  had left us out beyond the big arroyo. He had come into town at
+  dusk, but soon after supper he had disappeared. His face was very
+  pale, and his eyes had a strange look that never left them again.
+  Something was different in Jondo from that day, but it did not
+  change his gentle nature toward his fellow-men. During our short
+  stay in Santa F&eacute; we hardly saw him at all. We children
+  were too busy with other things to ask questions, and everybody
+  but Rex Krane was too busy to be questioned. Having nothing else
+  to do, Rex became our chaperon, as Uncle Esmond must have
+  foreseen he would be when he measured the young man in
+  Independence on the day we left there.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night Esmond Clarenden, smiling and good-natured, paid no heed
+  to the sharp eyes of this stranger fixed on him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter now, little weather-vane? You are always first
+  to sense a coming change," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, I saw that man watching us like he knew us, out
+  there on the Plaza to-day. Who is he?" I asked, in a low
+  tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "His name is Ferdinand Ramero. You will find him watching
+  everywhere. Let that man alone as you would a snake," my uncle
+  warned us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is that his boy?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What boy?" Uncle Esmond inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Marcos, the boy I pitched endways out of the church. He's bigger
+  than Bev, too," I declared, proudly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail Clarenden, are you crazy?" Uncle Esmond exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I'm not," I insisted, and then I told what had happened at
+  the church, adding, "I saw Marcos with that man in the Plaza, and
+  they went away together."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden's face grew grave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What kind of a looking child was she, Gail?" he asked, after a
+  pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, she had yellow hair and big sort of dark eyes! She could
+  squeal like anything. She wasn't a baby girl at all, but a
+  regular little fighter kind of a girl."<br>
+  <br>
+  I grew bashful all at once and hesitated, but my uncle did not
+  seem to hear me, for he turned to Rex Krane and said, in low,
+  earnest tones:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Krane, if you can locate that child for me you will do me an
+  invaluable service. It was largely on her account that I came
+  here now, and it's a god-send to have a fellow like you to save
+  time for me. Every man has his uses. Your service will be a big
+  one to me."<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man's face flushed and his eyes shone with a new
+  light.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If any of you happen to see that girl let me know at once," my
+  uncle said, turning to us, "but, remember, don't act as if you
+  were hunting for her."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know now right where she lives. It's up a crooked street by
+  that church. I saw her run in there," I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Every hut looks like every other hut, and every little Mex looks
+  like every other little Mex," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond smiled, but the stern lines in his face hardly broke
+  as he said, earnestly, "Keep your eyes open and, whatever you do,
+  stay close to Krane while Bill helps me here, and don't forget to
+  watch for that little girl when you are sight-seeing."<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's not much to see, as Bev says, but the outside of 'dobe
+  walls five feet thick," Rex Krane observed. "But if you know
+  which wall to look through, the lookin' may be easy enough.
+  Seein' things is my specialty, and we'll get this princess if we
+  have to slay a giant and an ogre and take a few dozen Mexican
+  scalps first. The plot just thickens. It's a great game." The
+  tall New-Englander would not take life seriously anywhere, and,
+  with our trust in his guardianship, we could want no better
+  chaperon.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night Beverly Clarenden and I were in fairyland.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the princess, Bev, the princess we were looking for," I
+  joyously asserted. "And, oh, Bev, she is beautiful, but
+  snappy-like, too. She called me a 'big brown bob-cat', and then
+  she apologized, just as nice as could be."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And this little Marcos cuss, he'll be the ogre," Beverly
+  declared. "But who'll we have for the giant? That priest, footing
+  it out by that dry creek-thing they call a 'royo?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh no, no! He and Jondo made up together, and Jondo's nobody's
+  bad man even in a story. It will be that Ferdinand Ramero," I
+  insisted. "But, say, Bev, Jondo wrote a new name on the register
+  this evening, or somebody wrote it for him, maybe. It wasn't his
+  own writing. 'Jean Deau.' I saw it in big, round, back-slanting
+  letters. Why did he do that?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I reckon that's his real name in big, round, back-slanting
+  letters down here," Beverly replied. "It's French, and we have
+  just been spelling it like it sounds, that's all."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, maybe so," I commented, and when I fell asleep it was to
+  dream of a princess and Jondo by a strange name, but the same
+  Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air of New Mexico puts iron into the blood. The trail life
+  had hardened us all, but the finishing touch for Rex Krane came
+  in the invigorating breath of that mountain-cooled, sun-cleansed
+  atmosphere of Santa F&eacute;. Shrewd, philosophic, brave-hearted
+  like his historic ancestry, he laid his plans carefully now, sure
+  of doing what he was set to do. And the wholesome sense of really
+  serving the man who had measured his worth at a glance gave him a
+  pleasure he had not known before. Of course, he moved slowly and
+  indifferently. One could never imagine Rex Krane hurrying about
+  anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We'll just 'prospect,' as Daniel Boone says," he declared, as he
+  marshaled us for the day. "We are strangers, sight-seein', got no
+  other business on earth, least of all any to take us up to this
+  old San Miguel Church for unholy purposes. 'Course if we see a
+  pretty little dark-eyed, golden-haired lassie anywhere, we'll
+  just make a diagram of the spot she's stand'n' on, for future
+  reference. We're in this game to win, but we don't do no foolish
+  hurryin' about it."<br>
+  <br>
+  So we wandered away, a happy quartet, and the city offered us
+  strange sights on every hand. It was all so old, so different, so
+  silent, so baffling--the narrow, crooked street; the solid
+  house-walls that hemmed them in; the strange tongue, strange
+  dress, strange customs; the absence of smiling faces or friendly
+  greetings; the sudden mystery of seeking for one whom we must not
+  seem to seek, and the consciousness of an enemy, Ferdinand
+  Ramero, whom we must avoid--that it is small wonder that we lived
+  in fairyland.<br>
+  <br>
+  We saw the boy, Marcos, here and there, sometimes staring
+  defiantly at us from some projected angle; sometimes slipping out
+  of sight as we approached; sometimes quarreling with other
+  children at their play. But nowhere, since the moment when I had
+  seen the door close on her up that crooked street beside the old
+  church, could we find any trace of the little girl.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim morning light of our fifth day in Santa F&eacute;, a
+  man on horseback, carrying a big, bulky bundle in his arms,
+  slipped out of the crooked, shadow-filled street beside the old
+  church of San Miguel. He halted a moment before the structure and
+  looked up at the ancient crude spire outlined against the sky,
+  then sped down the narrow way by the hotel at the end of the
+  trail. He crossed the Plaza swiftly and dashed out beyond the
+  Palace of the Governors and turned toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone, who slept in the family wagon--or under it--in the
+  inclosure at the rear of the hotel, had risen in time to peer out
+  of the wooden gate just as the rider was passing. It was still
+  too dark to see the man's face distinctly, but his form, and the
+  burden he carried, and the trappings of the horse she noted
+  carefully, as was her habit.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Up to cussedness, that man is. Mighty long an' slim. Lemme see!
+  Humph! I know <i>him</i>. I'll go wake up somebody."<br>
+  <br>
+  As the woman leaned far out of the gate she caught sight of a
+  little Indian girl crouching outside of the wall.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You got no business here, you, Little Blue Flower! Where do you
+  live when you <i>do</i> live?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower pointed toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why you come hangin' 'round here?" the African woman
+  demanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef send me to help the people who help me," she said,
+  in her soft, low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go back to your own folks, then, and tell your Daddy Joseph a
+  man just stole a big bunch of something and rode south with it.
+  He can look after that man. We can get along somehow. Now
+  go."<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice was like a growl, and the little Indian maiden shrank
+  back in the shadow of the wall. The next minute Aunty Boone was
+  rapping softly on the door of the room whose guest had registered
+  as Jean Deau. Ten minutes later another horseman left the street
+  beside the hotel and crossed the Plaza, riding erect and
+  open-faced as only Jondo could ride. Then the African woman
+  sought out Rex Krane, and in a few brief sentences told him what
+  had been taking place. All of which Rex was far too wise to
+  repeat to Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  That afternoon it happened that we left Mat Nivers at the hotel,
+  while Rex Krane and Beverly and I strolled out of town on a
+  well-beaten trail leading toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It looks interestin'. Let's go on a ways," Rex commented,
+  lazily.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody would have guessed from his manner but that he was
+  indulgently helping us to have a good time with certain
+  restriction as to where we should go, and what we might say, nor
+  that, of the three, he was the most alert and full of definite
+  purpose.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down beside the way as a line of burros loaded with
+  firewood from the mountains trailed slowly by, with their
+  stolid-looking drivers staring at us in silent
+  unfriendliness.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last driver was the tall young Indian boy whom I had seen
+  standing in front of Little Blue Flower in the crowd of the
+  Plaza. He paid no heed to our presence, and his face was
+  expressionless as he passed us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Stupid as his own burro, and not nearly so handsome," Beverly
+  commented.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy turned quietly and stared at my cousin, who had not meant
+  to be overheard. Nobody could read the meaning of that look, for
+  his face was as impenetrable as the adobe walls of the Palace of
+  the Governors.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, you are laying up trouble. An Indian never forgets, and
+  you'll be finding that fellow under your pillow every night till
+  he gets your scalp," Rex Krane declared, as we went on our
+  way.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly laughed and stiffened his sturdy young arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's welcome to it if he can get it," he said, carelessly. "How
+  many million miles do we go to-day, Mr. Krane?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder is your terminal," Rex replied, pointing to a little
+  settlement of mud huts huddling together along the trail. "They
+  call that little metropolis Agua Fria--'pure water'--because
+  there ain't no water there. It's the last place to look for
+  anybody. That's why we look there. You will go in like gentlemen,
+  though--and don't be surprised nor make any great noise over
+  anything you see there. If a riot starts I'll do the
+  startin'."<br>
+  <br>
+  Carelessly as this was said, we understood the command behind
+  it.<br>
+  <br>
+  Near the village, I happened to glance back over the way we had
+  come, and there, striding in, soft-footed as a cat behind us, was
+  that young Indian. I turned again just as we reached the first
+  straggling houses at the outskirts of the settlement, but he had
+  disappeared.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange little village, this Agua Fria. Its squat
+  dwellings, with impenetrable adobe walls, had sat out there on
+  the sandy edge of the dry Santa F&eacute; River through many and
+  many a lagging decade; a single trail hardly more than a
+  cart-width across ran through it. A church, mud-walled and
+  ancient, rose above the low houses, but of order or uniformity of
+  outline there was none. Hands long gone to dust had shaped those
+  crude dwellings on this sunny plain where only man decays, though
+  what he builds endures.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody was in sight and there was something awesome in the very
+  silence everywhere. Rex lounged carelessly along, as one who had
+  no particular aim in view and was likely to turn back at any
+  moment. But Beverly and I stared hard in every direction.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the end of the village two tiny mud huts, separated from each
+  other by a mere crack of space, encroached on this narrow way
+  even a trifle more than the neighboring huts. As we were passing
+  these a soft Hopi voice called:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly! Beverly!" And Little Blue Flower, peeping shyly out
+  from the narrow opening, lifted a warning hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The church! The church!" she repeated, softly, then darted out
+  of sight, as if the brown wall were but thick brown vapor into
+  which she melted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, it's our own little girl!" Beverly exclaimed, with a smile,
+  just as Little Blue Flower turned away, but I am sure she caught
+  his words and saw his smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  We would have called to her, but Rex Krane evidently did not hear
+  her, for he neither halted nor turned his head. So, remembering
+  our command to be quiet, we passed on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess we are about to the end of this 'pure water' resort.
+  It's gettin' late. Let's go back home now," our leader said,
+  dispiritedly. So we turned back toward Santa F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the narrow opening where we had seen Little Blue Flower the
+  young Indian boy stood upright and motionless, and again he gave
+  no sign of seeing us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's just run over to that church a minute while we are here.
+  Looks interestin' over there," Rex suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wondered if he could have heard Little Blue Flower, and thought
+  her suggestion was a good one, or if this was a mere whim of
+  his.<br>
+  <br>
+  The church, a crude mission structure, stood some distance from
+  the trail. As we entered a priest came forward to meet us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can I serve you?" he asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice was clear and sweet--the same voice that we had heard
+  out beyond the arroyo southeast of town, the same face, too, that
+  we had seen, with the big dark eyes full of fire. Involuntarily I
+  recalled how his hand had pointed to the west when he had
+  pronounced a blessing that day.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank you, Father--" Rex began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Josef," the holy man said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, thank you, Father Josef. We are just looking at things. No
+  wish to be rude, you know."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex lifted his cap and stood bareheaded in the priestly
+  presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef smiled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look here, then."<br>
+  <br>
+  He led us up the aisle to where, cuddled down on a crude seat, a
+  little girl lay asleep. Her golden hair fell like a cloud about
+  her face, flowing over the edge of the seat almost to the floor.
+  Her cheeks were pink and warm, and her dimpled white hands were
+  clasped together. I had caught Mat Nivers napping many a time,
+  but never in my life had I seen anything half so sweet as this
+  sleeping girl in the beauty of her innocence. And I knew at a
+  glance that this was the same girl whom I had seen before at the
+  door of the old Church of San Miguel.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Same as grown-ups when the sermon is dull. Thank you, Father
+  Josef. It's a pretty picture. We must be goin' now." Rex Krane
+  dropped some silver in the priest's hand and we left the
+  church.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the door we passed the Indian boy again, and a third time he
+  gave no sign of seeing us. I was the only one who was troubled,
+  however, for Rex and Beverly did not seem to notice him. As we
+  left the village I caught sight of him again following behind
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look there, Bev," I said, in a low voice. Beverly glanced back,
+  then turned and stared defiantly at the boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe Rex knows about Indians," he said, lightly. "That's three
+  times I found him fooling around in less than an hour, but my
+  scalp is still hanging over one ear."<br>
+  <br>
+  He pushed back his cap and pulled at his bright brown locks.
+  Happy Bev! How headstrong, brave, and care-free he walked the
+  plains that day.<br>
+  <br>
+  The evening shadows were lengthening and the peaks of the
+  Sangre-de-Christo range were taking on the scarlet stains of
+  sunset when we raced into town at last. Rex Krane went at once to
+  find Uncle Esmond, and Beverly and I hurried to the hotel to tell
+  Mat of all that we had seen.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her gray eyes were glowing when she met us at the door and led us
+  into a corner where we could talk by ourselves.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond has sold everything to that Mexican merchant, Felix
+  Narveo, and we are going to start home just as soon as he can
+  find that little girl."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we've found her! We've found her!" Beverly burst out. But
+  Mat hushed him at once.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't yell it to the sides, Beverly Clarenden. Now listen!" Mat
+  dropped her voice almost to a whisper. "He's going to take that
+  little girl back with us as far as Fort Leavenworth, and then
+  send her on to St. Louis where she has some folks, I guess."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Isn't he a clipper, though," Beverly exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But what if the Indians should get us?" I asked, anxiously. "I
+  heard the colonel at Fort Leavenworth just give it to Uncle
+  Esmond one night for bringing us."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are safe or you are not safe everywhere. And if we got in
+  here I reckon we can get out," Mat reasoned, philosophically.
+  "And Uncle Esmond isn't afraid and he's set on doing it. We
+  aren't going to take any goods back, so we can travel lots
+  faster, and everything will be put in the wagons so we can grab
+  out what's worth most in a hurry if we have to."<br>
+  <br>
+  So we talked matters over now as we had done on that April day
+  out on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. But now we knew
+  something of what might be before us on that homeward journey.
+  Thrilling hours those were. It is no wonder that, schooled by
+  their events, young as we were, we put away childish things.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night while we slept things happened of which we knew
+  nothing for many years. There was no moon and the glaring yellow
+  daytime plain was full of gray-edged shadows, under the far stars
+  of a midnight blue sky, as Esmond Clarenden took the same trail
+  that we had followed in the afternoon. On to the village of Agua
+  Fria, black and silent, he rode until he came to the church door.
+  Here he dismounted, and, quickly securing his horse, he entered
+  the building. The chill midnight wind swept in through the open
+  door behind him, threatening to blot out the flickering candles
+  about the altar. Father Josef came slowly down the aisle to meet
+  him, while a tall man, crouching like a beast about to spring,
+  rather than a penitent at prayer, shrank down in the shadowy
+  corner inside the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  The merchant, solid and square-built and fearless, stood before
+  the young priest baring his head as he spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come on a grave errand, good Father. This afternoon my two
+  nephews and a young man from New England came in here and saw a
+  child asleep under protection of this holy sanctuary. That
+  child's name is Eloise St. Vrain. I had hoped to find her mother
+  able to care for her. She--cannot do it, as you know. I must do
+  it for her now. I come here to claim what it is my duty to
+  protect."<br>
+  <br>
+  At these words the crouching figure sprang up and Ferdinand
+  Ramero, his steel-blue eyes blazing, came forward with cat-like
+  softness. But the sturdy little man before the priest stood, hat
+  in hand, undisturbed by any presence there.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef," the tall man began, in a voice of menace, "you
+  will not protect this American here. I have confessed to you and
+  you know that this man is my enemy. He comes, a traitor to his
+  own country and a spy to ours. He has risked the lives of three
+  children by bringing them across the plains. He comes alone where
+  large wagon-trains dare not venture. He could not go back to the
+  States now. And lastly, good Father, he has no right to the child
+  that he claims is here."<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the child that is here, asleep beside our sacred altar,"
+  Father Josef said, sternly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero turned upon the priest fiercely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Even the Church might go too far," he muttered,
+  threateningly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It might, but it never has," the holy man agreed. Then turning
+  to Esmond Clarenden, he continued: "You must see that these
+  charges do not stand against you. Our Holy Church offers no
+  protection, outside of these four walls, to a traitor or a spy or
+  even an unpatriotic speculator seeking to profit by the needs of
+  war. Nor could it sanction giving the guardianship of a child to
+  one who daringly imperils his own life or the lives of children,
+  nor can it sanction any rights of guardianship unless due cause
+  be given for granting them."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero smiled as the priest concluded. He was a
+  handsome man, with the sort of compelling magnetism that gives
+  controlling power to its possessor. But because I knew my uncle
+  so well in after years, I can picture Esmond Clarenden as he
+  stood that night before the young priest in the little mud-walled
+  church of Agua Fria. And I can picture the tall, threatening man
+  in the shadows beside him. But never have I held an image of him
+  showing a sign of fear.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef, I am willing to make any explanation to you. As
+  for this man whom you call Ramero here--up in the States he bears
+  another name and I finished with him there six years ago--I have
+  no time nor breath to waste on him. Are these your demands?" my
+  uncle asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They are," Father Josef replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do I take away the little girl, Eloise, unmolested, if you are
+  satisfied?" Esmond Clarenden demanded, first making sure of his
+  bargain, like the merchant he was.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero stiffened insolently at these words, and looked
+  threateningly at Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You do," the holy man replied, something of the flashing light
+  in his eyes alone revealing what sort of a soldier the State had
+  lost when this man took on churchly orders.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am no traitor to my flag, since my full commerical
+  purpose was known and sanctioned by the military authority at
+  Fort Leavenworth before I left there. I brought no aid to my
+  country's enemy because my full cargo was bargained for by your
+  merchant, Felix Narveo, before the declaration of war was made. I
+  merely acted as his agent bringing his own to him. I have come
+  here as a spy only in this--that I shall profit in strictly
+  legitimate business by the knowledge I hold of commercial
+  conditions and my acquaintance with your citizens when this war
+  for territory ends, no matter how its results may run. I deal in
+  wholesome trade, not in human hate. I offer value for value, not
+  blood for blood."<br>
+  <br>
+  Up to this time a smile had lighted the merchant's eyes. But now
+  his voice lowered, and the lines about his mouth hardened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "As to the guardianship of children, Father Josef, I am a
+  bachelor who for nearly nine years have given a home, education,
+  support, and affection to three orphan children, until, though
+  young in years, they are wise and capable. So zealous was I for
+  their welfare, that when word came to me--no matter how--that a
+  company of Mexicans were on their way to Independence, Missouri,
+  ostensibly to seek the protection of the United States Government
+  and to settle on the frontier there, but really to seize these
+  children in my absence, and carry them into the heart of old
+  Mexico, I decided at once that they would be safer with me in New
+  Mexico than without me in Missouri.<br>
+  <br>
+  "In the night I passed this Mexican gang at Council Grove,
+  waiting to seize me in the morning. At Pawnee Rock a storm
+  scattered a band of Kiowa Indians to whom these same Mexicans had
+  given a little Indian slave girl as a reward for attacking our
+  train if the Mexicans should fail to get us themselves. Through
+  every peril that threatens that long trail we came safely because
+  the hand of the Lord preserved us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden paused, and the priest bowed a moment in
+  prayer.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If I have dared fate in this journey," the merchant went on, "it
+  was not to be foolhardy, nor for mere money gains, but to keep my
+  own with me, and to rescue the daughter of Mary St. Vrain, of
+  Santa F&eacute;, and take her to a place of safety. It was her
+  mother's last pleading call, as you, Father Josef, very well
+  know, since you yourself heard her last words and closed her dead
+  eyes. Under the New Mexican law, the guardianship of her property
+  rests with others. Mine is the right to protect her and, by the
+  God of heaven, I mean to do it!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden's voice was deep and powerful now, filling the
+  old church with its vehemence.<br>
+  <br>
+  Up by the altar, the little girl sat up suddenly and looked about
+  her, terrified by the dim light and the strange faces there.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't be afraid, Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  How strangely changed was this gentle tone from the vehement
+  voice of a moment ago.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no
+  child ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held
+  Beverly and me in loving obedience all the days of our lives with
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the
+  girl reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm
+  protectingly about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with
+  tears; the head with its sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned
+  against him for a moment. Then the fighting spirit came back to
+  her, so early in her young life had the need for defending
+  herself been forced upon her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good!
+  Let's go now!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at
+  Esmond Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open
+  door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this
+  good man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your
+  mother would want you to be." His musical voice was full of
+  pathos.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the
+  aisle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand
+  between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from
+  her face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned
+  hastily toward the altar.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp,
+  bitter voice filling the church.<br>
+  <br>
+  "By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so
+  long as you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them
+  you reckon with me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing
+  gesture.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for
+  that sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would
+  have been safe here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as
+  long as you choose in the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot
+  outside these walls and I say again you reckon with me."<br>
+  <br>
+  His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and
+  his charge clinging to his arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Set but a foot outside these walls and <i>you</i> will reckon
+  with <i>me</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up
+  suddenly behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You meant to hide in the old Church of San Miguel because it is
+  so near to the home where you have kept this little girl. But
+  Gail Clarenden blocked your game and found your house and this
+  child in the church door before our wagon-train had reached the
+  end of the trail. You found this church your nearest refuge,
+  meaning to leave it again early in the morning. I have waited
+  here for you all day, protected by the same means that brought
+  word to Santa F&eacute; this morning. Come out now if you wish.
+  You dare not follow me to the States, but I dare to come to your
+  land. Can you meet me here?" Jondo was handsome in his sunny
+  moods. In his anger he was splendid.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero dropped to a seat beside Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have told you I cannot face that man. I will stay here now,"
+  he said, in a low voice to the priest. "But I do not stay here
+  always, and I can send where I do not follow," he added,
+  defiantly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden was already on his horse with his little charge,
+  snugly wrapped, in his arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef at the portal lifted his hand in sign of
+  blessing.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Peace be with you. Do not tarry long," he said. Then, turning to
+  Jondo, he gazed into the strong, handsome face. "Go in peace. He
+  will not follow. But forget not to love even your enemies."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the midnight dimness Jondo's bright smile glowed with all its
+  courageous sweetness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I finished that fight long ago," he said. "I come only to help
+  others."<br>
+  <br>
+  Long these two, priest and plainsman, stood there with clasped
+  hands, the gray night mists of the Santa F&eacute; Valley round
+  about them and all the far stars of the midnight sky gleaming
+  above them. Then Jondo mounted his horse and rode away up the
+  trail toward Santa F&eacute;. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  I will even make a way in the wilderness. --ISAIAH.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  Bent's fort stood alone in the wide wastes of the upper Arkansas
+  valley. From the Atlantic to the Pacific shores there was in
+  America no more isolated spot holding a man's home. Out on the
+  north bank of the Arkansas, in a grassy river bottom, with
+  rolling treeless plains rippling away on every hand, it reared
+  its high yellow walls in solitary defiance, mute token of the
+  white man's conquering hand in a savage wilderness. It was a
+  great rectangle built of adobe brick with walls six feet through
+  at the base, sloping to only a third of that width at the top,
+  eighteen feet from the ground. Round bastions, thirty feet high,
+  at two diagonal corners, gave outlook and defense. Immense wooden
+  doors guarded a wide gateway looking eastward down the Arkansas
+  River. The interior arrangement was after the Mexican custom of
+  building, with rooms along the outer walls all opening into a big
+  <i>patio</i>, or open court. A cross-wall separated this court
+  from the large corral inside the outer walls at the rear. A
+  portal, or porch, roofed with thatch on cedar poles, ran around
+  the entire inner rectangle, sheltering the rooms somewhat from
+  the glare of the white-washed court. A little world in itself was
+  this Bent's Fort, a self-dependent community in the solitary
+  places. The presiding genius of this community was William Bent,
+  whose name is graven hard and deep in the annals of the eastern
+  slopes of the Rocky Mountain country in the earlier decades of
+  the nineteenth century.<br>
+  <br>
+  Hither in the middle '40's the wild trails of the West converged:
+  northward, from the trading-posts of Bent and St. Vrain on the
+  Platte; south, over the Raton Pass from Taos and Santa F&eacute;;
+  westward, from the fur-bearing plateaus of the Rockies, where
+  trappers and traders brought their precious piles of pelts down
+  the Arkansas; and eastward, half a thousand miles from the
+  Missouri River frontier--the pathways of a restless, roving
+  people crossed each other here. And it was toward this wilderness
+  crossroads that Esmond Clarenden directed his course in that
+  summertime of my boyhood years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The heat of a July sun beat pitilessly down on the scorching
+  plains. The weary trail stretched endlessly on toward a somewhere
+  in the yellow distance that meant shelter and safety. Spiral
+  gusts of air gathering out of the low hills to the southeast
+  picked up great cones of dust and whirled them zigzagging across
+  the brown barren face of the land. Every draw was bone dry; even
+  the greener growths along their sheltered sides, where the last
+  moisture hides itself, wore a sickly sallow hue.<br>
+  <br>
+  Under the burden of this sun-glare, and through these stifling
+  dust-cones, our little company struggled sturdily forward.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had left Santa F&eacute; as suddenly and daringly as we had
+  entered it, the very impossibility of risking such a journey
+  again being our, greatest safeguard. Esmond Clarenden was doing
+  the thing that couldn't be done, and doing it quickly.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the gray dawn after that midnight ride to Agua Fria a little
+  Indian girl had slipped like a brown shadow across the Plaza.
+  Stopping at the door of the Exchange Hotel, she leaned against
+  the low slab of petrified wood that for many a year served as a
+  loafer's roost before the hotel doorway. Inside the building
+  Jondo caught the clear twitter of a bird's song at daybreak,
+  twice repeated. A pause, and then it came again, fainter this
+  time, as if the bird were fluttering away through the Plaza
+  treetops.<br>
+  <br>
+  In that pause, the gate in the wall had opened softly, and Aunty
+  Boone's sharp eyes peered through the crack. The girl caught one
+  glimpse of the black face, then, dropping a tiny leather bag
+  beside the stone, she sped away.<br>
+  <br>
+  A tall young Indian boy, prone on the ground behind a pile of
+  refuse in the shadowy Plaza, lifted his head in time to see the
+  girl glide along the portal of the Palace of the Governors and
+  disappear at the corner of the structure. Then he rose and
+  followed her with silent moccasined feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Jondo, who had hurried to the hotel door, saw only the lithe
+  form of an Indian boy across the Plaza. Then his eye fell on the
+  slender bag beside the stone slab. It held a tiny scrap of paper,
+  bearing a message:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><i>Take long trail QUICK. Mexicans follow
+  far</i>. Trust bearer anywhere.<br>
+  JOSEF.</p>
+
+  <p>An hour later we were on our way toward the open prairies and
+  the Stars and Stripes afloat above Fort Leavenworth.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the wagon beside Mat Nivers was the little girl whose face had
+  been clear in the mystic vision of my day-dreams on the April
+  morning when I had gone out to watch for the big fish on the
+  sand-bars; the morning when I had felt the first heart-throb of
+  desire for the trail and the open plains whereon my life-story
+  would later be written.<br>
+  <br>
+  We carried no merchandise now. Everything bent toward speed and
+  safety. Our ponies and mules were all fresh ones--secured for
+  this journey two hours after we had come into Santa
+  F&eacute;--save for the big sturdy dun creature that Uncle
+  Esmond, out of pure sentiment, allowed to trail along behind the
+  wagons toward his native heath in the Missouri bottoms.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had crossed the Gloriettas and climbed over the Raton Pass
+  rapidly, and now we were nearing the upper Arkansas, where the
+  old trail turns east for its long stretch across the
+  prairies.<br>
+  <br>
+  As far as the eye could see there was no living thing save our
+  own company in all the desolate plain aquiver with heat and ashy
+  dry. The line of low yellow bluffs to the southeast hardly cast a
+  shadow save for a darker dun tint here and there.<br>
+  <br>
+  At midday we drooped to a brief rest beside the sun-baked
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You all jus' one color," Aunty Boone declared. "You all like the
+  dus' you made of 'cep' Little Lees an' me. She's white and I'm
+  black. Nothin' else makes a pin streak on the face of the
+  earth."<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone flourished on deserts and her black face glistened in
+  the sunlight. Deep in the shadow of the wagon cover the face of
+  Eloise St. Vrain--"Little Lees," Aunty Boone had named
+  her--bloomed pink as a wild rose in its frame of soft hair. She
+  had become Aunty Boone's meat and drink from the moment the
+  strange African woman first saw her. This regard, never expressed
+  in caress nor word of tenderness, showed itself in warding from
+  the little girl every wind of heaven that might visit her too
+  roughly. Not that Eloise gave up easily. Her fighting spirit made
+  her rebel against weariness and the hardships of trail life new
+  to her. She fitted into our ways marvelously well, demanding
+  equal rights, but no favors. By some gentle appeal, hardly put
+  into words, we knew that Uncle Esmond did not want us to talk to
+  her about herself. And Beverly and Mat and I, however much we
+  might speculate among ourselves, never thought of resisting his
+  wishes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise was gracious with Mat, but evidently the boy Marcos had
+  made her wary of all boys. She paid no attention to Beverly and
+  me at first. All her pretty smiles and laughing words were for
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo. And she was lovely. Never in all these
+  long and varied years have I seen another child with such a
+  richness of coloring, nor such a mass of golden hair rippling
+  around her forehead and falling in big, soft curls about her
+  neck. Her dark eyes with their long black lashes gave to her face
+  its picturesque beauty, and her plump, dimpled arms and sturdy
+  little form bespoke the wholesome promise of future years.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the life of the trail was not meant for such as she, and I
+  know now that the assurance of having saved her from some greater
+  misfortune alone comforted Uncle Esmond and Jondo in this
+  journey. For Aunty Boone was right when she declared, "They tote
+  together always."<br>
+  <br>
+  As we grouped together under that shelterless glare, getting what
+  comfort we could out of the brief rest, Jondo sprang up suddenly,
+  his eyes aglow with excitement.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's the matter? Because if it isn't, this is one hot day to
+  pretend like it is," Rex Krane asserted.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was lying on the hot earth beside the trail, his hat pulled
+  over his face. Beverly and Bill Banney were staring dejectedly
+  across the landscape, seeing nothing. I sat looking off toward
+  the east, wondering what lay behind those dun bluffs in the
+  distance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Something is wrong back yonder," Jondo declared, making a
+  half-circle with his hand toward the trail behind us.<br>
+  <br>
+  My heart seemed to stop mid-beat with a kind of fear I had never
+  known before. Aunty Boone had always been her own defender. Mat
+  Nivers had cared for me so much that I never doubted her bigger
+  power. It was for Eloise, Aunty Boone's "Little Lees," that my
+  fear leaped up.<br>
+  <br>
+  I can close my eyes to-day and see again the desolate land banded
+  by the broad white trail. I can see the dusty wagons and our
+  tired mules with drooping heads. I can see the earnest, anxious
+  faces of Esmond Clarenden and Jondo; Beverly and Bill Banney
+  hardly grasping Jondo's meaning; Rex Krane, half asleep on the
+  edge of the trail. I can see Mat Nivers, brown and strong, and
+  Aunty Boone oozing sweat at every pore. But these are only the
+  setting for that little girl on the wagon-seat with white face
+  and big dark eyes, under the curl-shadowed forehead.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo stared hard toward the hills in the southeast. Then he
+  turned to my uncle with grim face and burning eyes; His was a
+  wonderful voice, clear, strong and penetrating. But in danger he
+  always spoke in a low tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've watched those dust-whirls for an hour. The wind isn't
+  making all of them. Somebody is stirring them up for cover. Every
+  whirl has an Indian in it. It's all of ten miles to Bent's. We
+  must fight them off and let the others run for it, before they
+  cut us off in front. Look at that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The exclamation burst from the plainsman's lips.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was my last straight looking. The rest is ever a
+  kaleidoscope of action thrilled through with terror. What I saw
+  was a swiftly moving black splotch coming out of the hills, with
+  huge dust-heaps flying here and there before it. Then a yellow
+  cloud spiral blinded our sight as a gust of hot wind swept round
+  us. I remember Jondo's stern face and blazing eyes and his
+  words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mexicans behind the Indians!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And Uncle Esmond's voice:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Narveo said they would get us, but I hoped we had outrun
+  them."<br>
+  <br>
+  The far plains seemed spotted with Indians racing toward us, and
+  coming at an angle from the southeast a dozen Mexicans swept in
+  to cut us off from the trail in front.<br>
+  <br>
+  I remember a quick snatching of precious things in boxes placed
+  for such a moment as this, a quick snapping of halter ropes
+  around the ponies' necks, a gleaming of gun-barrels in the hot
+  sunlight; a solid cloud of dust rolling up behind us, bigger and
+  nearer every second; and the urgent voice of Jondo: "Ride for
+  your lives!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And the race began. On the trail somewhere before us was Bent's
+  Fort. We could only hope to reach it soon. We did not even look
+  behind as we tore down that dusty wilderness way.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the first motion Aunty Boone had seized Eloise St. Vrain with
+  one hand and the big dun mule's neck-strap with the other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go to the devil, you tigers and cannibals!" She roared with the
+  growl of a desert lioness, shaking her big black fist at the band
+  of Mexicans pouring out of the hills.<br>
+  <br>
+  And dun mule and black woman and white-faced, terror-stricken
+  child became only a dust-cloud far in front of us. Mat and
+  Beverly and I leaped to the ponies and followed the lead of the
+  African woman. Nearest to us was Rex Krane, always a shield for
+  the younger and less able. And behind him, as defense for the
+  rear and protection for the van, came Esmond Clarenden and Bill
+  Banney, with Jondo nearest the enemy, where danger was
+  greatest.<br>
+  <br>
+  I tell it calmly, but I lived it in a blind whirl. The swift
+  hoof-beat, the wild Indian yells, the whirl of arrows and whiz of
+  bullets, the onrush to outrun the Mexicans who were trying to cut
+  us off from the trail in front. Lived it! I lived ages in it. And
+  then an arrow cut my pony's flank, making him lurch from the
+  trail, a false step, the pony staggering, falling. A sharp pain
+  in my shoulder, the smell of fire, a shriek from demon throats,
+  the glaring sunlight on the rocking plain, searing my eyes in a
+  mad whirlpool of blinding light, the fading sounds--and then--all
+  was black and still.</p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p>When I opened my eyes again I was lying on a cot. Bare adobe
+  walls were around me, and a high plastered roof resting on cedar
+  poles sheltered that awful glare from my eyes. Through the open
+  door I could see the rain falling on the bare ground of the
+  court, filling the shallow places with puddles.<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to lift myself to see more as shrieks of childish
+  laughter caught my ear, but there was a sickish heat in my dry
+  skin, an evil taste in my throat, and a sharp pain in my left
+  shoulder; and I fell back again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Another shriek, and Eloise St. Vrain came before my doorway,
+  pattering with bare white feet out into the center of the
+  <i>patio</i> puddles and laughing at the dashing summer shower.
+  Her damp hair, twisted into a knot on top of her head, was
+  curling tightly about her temples and neck, her eyes were
+  shining; her wet clothes slapping at her bare white knees--a
+  picture of the delicious happiness of childhood. A little child
+  of three or four years was toddling after her. He was brown as a
+  berry, and at first I thought he was a little Indian. I could
+  hear Mat and Beverly splashing about safe and joyous somewhere,
+  and I forgot my fever and pain and the dread of that awful glare
+  coming again to sear my burning eyeballs as I watched and
+  listened. A louder shriek as the little child ran behind Eloise
+  and gave her a vigorous shove for one so small.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you've done," Mat cried; and then
+  Beverly was picking up "Little Lees," sprawling, all mud-smeared
+  and happy, in the very middle of the court.<br>
+  <br>
+  The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a
+  wicked mischief, but he said not a word.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a
+  cot beyond mine. An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me.
+  I stared back at him and neither of us spoke. His head was
+  bandaged and his cheek was swollen, but with my memory for faces,
+  even Indian faces, I knew him at once for the boy who had
+  followed us into Agua Fria and out of it again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are you awake?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and
+  Beverly and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious. They gave
+  no heed to the Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep. Once,
+  however, I caught him watching Beverly, and his eyes were like
+  dagger points.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are having the best times. You must get well right away,
+  because we are going to stay." They all began to clatter,
+  noisily.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clear out of here, you magpies," he commanded, and they scuttled
+  away into the warm rain and the puddles again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you want anything, Gail?" Rex asked, bending over me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I drew his head down with my right arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want that Indian out of here," I whispered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Out he goes," Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew
+  it the boy was taken away. When we were alone the tall young man
+  sat down beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You want to ask me a million questions. I'll answer 'em to save
+  you the trouble," he began, in his comfortable way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are wounded in your shoulder. Slight, bullet, that's
+  Mexican; deep, arrow, that's Indian. But you are here and pretty
+  much alive and you will be well soon."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Uncle Esmond? Jondo? Bill?" I began, lifting myself up on my
+  well arm.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Keep quiet. I'll answer faster. Everybody all right. Clarenden
+  and Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a
+  military escort permits."<br>
+  <br>
+  I dropped down again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The U.S. Army, en route for perdition, via Santa F&eacute;, is
+  camping in the big timbers down-stream now. Jondo and Esmond
+  Clarenden will leave you boys and girls here till it's safe to
+  take you out again. And I and Daniel Boone, vestal god and
+  goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep you from harm till that
+  time. Bill's joining the army for sure now, and our happy family
+  life is ended as far as the Santa F&eacute; Trail is concerned.
+  I'm a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell me about this." I pointed to my shoulder.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All in good time. It was a nasty mess of fish. A dozen Mexicans
+  and as many Indians had followed us all the way from the sunny
+  side of the Gloriettas. You and Bev and Mat had got by the
+  Mexics. Daniel Boone and 'Little Lees' were climbing the North
+  Pole by that time. The rest of us were giving battle straight
+  from the shoulder; and someway, I don't know how, just as we had
+  the gang beat back behind us--you had a sniff of a bullet just
+  then--an Indian slipped ahead in the dust. I was tendin' to mite
+  of an arrow wound in my right calf, and I just caught him in
+  time, aimin' at Bev; but he missed him for you. I got him,
+  though, and clubbed his scalp a bit loose."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex paused and stared at his right leg.<br>
+  <br>
+  "How did that boy get here, Rex? Is he a friendly Indian?" I
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Jondo brought him in out of the wet. Says the child was made
+  to come along, and as soon as he could get away from the gang he
+  had to run with up here; he came right into camp to help us
+  against them. Fine young fellow! Jondo has it from them in
+  authority that we can trust him lyin' or tellin' the truth.
+  <i>He's all right</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How did he get hurt?" I inquired, still remembering in my own
+  mind the day at Agua Fria.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it
+  happened," Rex replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up
+  with the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that
+  way. He's got faith in that redskin and he's going to see that he
+  gets back to New Mexico safely--after while."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex, that's the same boy that was down in Agua Fria, the one Bev
+  laughed at. He's no good Indian," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are too wise, Gail Clarenden," Rex drawled, carelessly. "A
+  boy of your brains had ought to be born in Boston. Jondo and I
+  can't agree about him. His name, he says, is Santan. There's one
+  'n' too many. If you knock off the last one it makes him
+  Santa--'holy'; but if you knock out the middle it's Satan. We
+  don't knock out the same 'n', Jondo and me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the little child came tumbling noisily into the
+  room.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look here, youngun. You can't be makin' a racket here," Rex
+  said.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy stared at him, impudently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will, too," he declared, sullenly, kicking at my cot with all
+  his might.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex made no reply but, seizing the child around the waist, he
+  carried him kicking and screaming outside.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You stay out or I'll spank you!" Rex said, dropping him to the
+  ground.<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy looked up with blazing eyes, but said nothing.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's little Charlie Bent. His daddy runs this splendid fort.
+  His mother is a Cheyenne squaw, and he's a grim clinger of a
+  half-breed. Some day he'll be a terror on these plains. It's in
+  him, I know. But that won't interfere with us any. And you
+  children are a lot safer here than out on the trail. Great God! I
+  wonder we ever got you here!" Rex's face was very grave. "Now go
+  to sleep and wake up well. No more thinkin' like a man. You can
+  be a child again for a while."<br>
+  <br>
+  Those were happy days that followed. Safe behind the strong walls
+  of old Fort Bent, we children had not a care; and with the stress
+  and strain of the trail life lifted from our young minds, we
+  rebounded into happy childhood living. Every day offered a new
+  drama to our wonder-loving eyes. We watched the big hide-press
+  for making buffalo robes and furs into snug bales. We climbed to
+  the cupola of the headquarters department and saw the soldiers
+  marching by on their way to New Mexico. We saw the Ute and the
+  Red River Comanche come filing in on their summer expeditions
+  from the mountains. We saw the trade lines from the far north
+  bearing down to this wilderness crossroads with their early fall
+  stock for barter.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our playground was the court off which all the rooms opened. And
+  however wild and boisterous the scenes inside those walls in that
+  summer of 1846, in four young lives no touch of evil took root.
+  Stronger than the six-feet width of wall, higher than the
+  eighteen feet of adobe brick guarding us round about, was the
+  stern strength of the young Boston man interned in the fort to
+  protect us from within, as the strength of that structure
+  defended us from without.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet he might have failed sometimes, had it not been for Aunty
+  Boone. Nobody trifled with her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You let them children be. An give 'em the run of this shack,"
+  she commanded of the lesser powers whose business was to domineer
+  over the daily life there. "The man that makes trouble wide as a
+  needle is across is goin' to meet me an' the Judgment Day the
+  same minute."<br>
+  <br>
+  "When Daniel gets on her crack-o'-doom voice, the mountains goin'
+  to skip like rams and the little hills like lambs, an' the Army
+  of the West won't be necessary to protect the frontier," Rex
+  declared. But he knew her worth to his cause, and he welcomed
+  it.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so with her brute force and his moral strength we were
+  unconsciously intrenched in a safety zone in this far-isolated
+  place.<br>
+  <br>
+  With neither Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in
+  our remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we
+  needed. For with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in
+  which a child's day may be harried unless the child asserts
+  himself. We had the years of children but the sturdy defiance of
+  youth. So we were happy within our own little group, and we paid
+  little heed to the things that nobody else could forestall for
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child
+  of the proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered
+  into all of our sports with a quickness and perseverance and
+  wilfulness that was thoroughly American. He took defeat of his
+  wishes, and the equal measure of justice and punishment, with the
+  silent doggedness of an Indian; and on the edge of babyhood he
+  showed a spirit of revenge and malice that we, in our rollicking,
+  affectionate lives, with all our teasing and sense of humor,
+  could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and ignored his
+  imperious demands.<br>
+  <br>
+  Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending
+  him in everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if
+  we would submit to the making, which we seldom did.<br>
+  <br>
+  And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican
+  masters for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's
+  shrewdness, never to let us out of his sight. But he gave us no
+  opportunity to approach him. He lived in his own world, which was
+  a savage one, but he managed that it should overlap our world and
+  silently grasp all that was in it. Beverly had persistently tried
+  to be friendly for a time, for that was Beverly's way. Failing to
+  do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for all time.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly
+  told the Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good
+  Indians like her. She's one clipper."<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and
+  made no reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly
+  from that moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in
+  a corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season
+  and the night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the
+  open space, edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver.
+  There was much noise and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room
+  where the heads of affairs played together. Rex Krane had gone to
+  bed early. Out by the rear gate leading to the fort corral, Aunty
+  Boone was crooning a weird African melody. Crouching in the deep
+  shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the Indian boy, Santan,
+  listened to all that was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength
+  of the military guard who should keep us safe along the way.
+  Then, as children will, we began to speculate on what should
+  follow for us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill
+  and me. We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the
+  trail. I'm going back to Santa F&eacute; and kill that boy that
+  stared at me like he was crazy one day at Agua Fria."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to
+  us as Beverly ran on flippantly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the
+  Bents do, and live happily ever after."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time,"
+  Mat Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what
+  this long journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said,
+  meditatively. "He won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook
+  back the curly tresses, gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and
+  squeezed my hand as she sat beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from
+  home," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos
+  cuss's nose if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as
+  Aunty Boone would say," Beverly broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I
+  would have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we
+  talked together as boys do, in the confidences they never give to
+  anybody else.<br>
+  <br>
+  A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept
+  down inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises
+  inside the billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors
+  except ours were closed. Santan had crept between us and the two
+  open doorways leading to our rooms. What if he should slip
+  inside. A snake would have seemed better to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I
+  held it tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not
+  speak nor move. Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and
+  everything had grown weird and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of
+  some wild thing of the night plains outside crept to our ears,
+  making us shiver.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When the stars go to sleep an' the moon pulls up the gray
+  covers, it's time to shut your eyes an' forget." Aunty Boone's
+  soft voice broke the spell comfortingly for us. "Any crawlin'
+  thing that gits in my way now, goin' to be stepped on."<br>
+  <br>
+  At the low hissing sound of the last sentence there was a swift
+  scrambling along the shadows of the porch, and a door near the
+  kitchen snapped shut. The big shining face of the African woman
+  glistened above us and the court was flooded again with the
+  moon's silvery radiance. As we all sprang up to rush for our
+  rooms, "Little Lees" pulled me toward her and gently kissed my
+  cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You never would let Marcos in if he came to Fort Leavenworth,
+  would you?" she whispered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd break his head clear off first," I whispered back, and then
+  we scampered away.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night I dreamed again of the level plains and Uncle Esmond
+  and misty mountain peaks, but the dark eyes were not there,
+  though I watched long for them.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next day we left Fort Bent, and when I passed that way again
+  it was a great mass of yellow mounds, with a piece of broken wall
+  standing desolately here and there, a wreck of the past in a
+  solitary land. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h1>II<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="BUILDING" id="BUILDING">BUILDING THE TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="IX" id="IX">IX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+    Love took me softly by the hand,<br>
+      Love led me all the country o'er,<br>
+    And showed me beauty in the land,<br>
+      That I had never seen before.<br>
+                  --ANONYMOUS.<br></p>
+
+  <p>You might not be able to find the house to-day, nor the high
+  bluff whereon it stood. So many changes have been wrought in half
+  a century that what was green headland and wooded valley in the
+  far '50's may be but a deep cut or a big fill for a new roadway
+  or factory site to-day. So diligently has Kansas City fulfilled
+  the scriptural prophecy that "every valley shall be exalted, and
+  every mountain and hill shall be made low."<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the great stream bends to the east, the rugged heights
+  about its elbow, Aunty Boone, in those days, was wont to declare,
+  did not offer enough level ground to set a hen on. Small reason
+  was there then to hope that a city, great and gracious, would one
+  day cover those rough ravines and grace those slopes and hilltops
+  in the angle between the Missouri and the Kaw.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had resented leaving Fort Leavenworth when the
+  Clarenden business made the young city at the Kaw's mouth more
+  desirable for a home. But Esmond Clarenden foresaw that a
+  military post, when the protection it offers is no longer needed,
+  will not, in itself, be a city-builder. The war had brought New
+  Mexico into United States territory; railroads were slowly
+  creeping westward toward the Mississippi River; steamboats and
+  big covered wagons were bringing settlers into Kansas, where
+  little cabins were beginning to mark the landscape with new
+  hearth-stones. Congress was wrangling over the great slavery
+  question. The Eastern lawmakers were stupidly opposing the
+  efforts of Missouri statesmen to extend mail routes westward, or
+  to spend any energy toward developing that so-called worthless
+  region which they named "the great American desert." And the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail was now more than ever the highway for the
+  commerical treasures of the Rocky Mountains and the great
+  Southwest.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was the time of budding things. In the valley of the Missouri
+  the black elm boughs, the silvery sycamores and cottonwoods, and
+  the vines on the gray rock-faced cliffs were veiled in shimmering
+  draperies of green, with here and there a little group of orchard
+  trees faintly pink against the landscape's dainty verdure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden and I stood on the deck of a river steamer as
+  it made the wharf at old Westport Landing, where Esmond Clarenden
+  waited for us. And long before the steamer's final bump against
+  the pier we had noted the tall, slender girl standing beside him.
+  We had been away three years, the only schooling outside of Uncle
+  Esmond's teaching we were ever to have. We were big boys now,
+  greatly conscious of hands and feet in our way, "razor broke,"
+  Aunty Boone declared, brimful of hilarity and love of adventure,
+  and eager for the plains life, and the dangers of the old trail
+  by which we were to conquer or be conquered. In the society of
+  women we were timid and ill at ease. Aside from this we were
+  self-conceited, for we knew more of the world and felt ourselves
+  more important on that spring morning than we ever presumed to
+  know or dared to feel in all the years that followed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who is she, Gail, that tall one by little fat Uncle Esmond?"
+  Beverly questioned, as we neared the wharf. "You don't reckon
+  he's married, Bev? He's all of twenty-four or five years older
+  than we are, and we aren't calves any more." I replied, scanning
+  the group on the wharf.<br>
+  <br>
+  But we forgot the girl in our eagerness to bound down the
+  gang-plank and hug the man who meant all that home and love could
+  mean to us. In our three growing years we had almost eliminated
+  Mat Nivers, save as a happy memory, for mails were slow in those
+  days and we were poor letter-writers; and we had wondered how to
+  meet her properly now. But when the tall, slender girl on the
+  wharf came forward and we looked into the wide gray eyes of our
+  old-time playmate whom, as little boys, we had both vowed to
+  marry, we forgot everything in our overwhelming love for our
+  comrade-in-arms, our jolliest friend and counselor.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Mat, you miserable thing!" Beverly bubbled, hugging her in
+  his arms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are just bigger and sweeter than ever. I mistook you for
+  Aunty Boone at first," I chimed in, kissing her on each cheek.
+  And we all bundled away in an old-fashioned, low-swung carriage,
+  happy as children again, with no barrier between us and the dear
+  playmate of the past.<br>
+  <br>
+  The new home, on the high crest overlooking the Missouri valley,
+  nestled deep in the shade of maple and elm trees, a mansion,
+  compared to that log house of blessed memory at Fort Leavenworth.
+  A winding road led up the steep slope from a wooded ravine where
+  a trail ran out from the little city by the river's edge. Vistas
+  of sheer cliff and stretches of the muddy on-sweeping Missouri
+  and the full-bosomed Kaw, with scrubby timbered ravines and
+  growing groves of forest trees, offered themselves at every turn.
+  And from the top of the bluff the world unrolled in a panorama of
+  nature's own shaping and coloring.<br>
+  <br>
+  The house was built of stone, with vines climbing about its thick
+  walls, and broad veranda. And everywhere Mat's hands had put
+  homey touches of comfort and beauty. An hundredfold did she
+  return to Esmond Clarenden all the care and protection he had
+  given to her in her orphaned childhood. And, after all, it was
+  not military outposts, nor railroads, nor mail-lines alone that
+  pushed back the wilderness frontier. It was the hand of woman
+  that also builded empire westward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat's got her wish at last," I said, as we sat with Uncle Esmond
+  after dinner under a big maple tree and looked out at the far
+  yellow Missouri, churning its spring floods to foam against the
+  snags along its high-water bound.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's Mat's wish?" Uncle Esmond asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To have a good home and <i>stay there</i>. She wished that one
+  night, years ago back in old Fort Bent. Don't you remember, Bev,
+  when we were out in the court, and how scared blue we all were
+  when the moon went under a cloud, and that Indian boy, Santan,
+  was creeping between us and the home base?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I don't remember anything except that we were in Fort Bent.
+  Got in by the width of a hair ahead of some Mexicans and Indians,
+  and got out again after a jolly six weeks. What's the real job
+  for us now, Uncle Esmond?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Uncle Esmond was staring out toward the Kaw valley, rimmed by
+  high bluffs in the distance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know about Mat having her wish," he said, thoughtfully,
+  "but never mind. Trade is booming and I'm needing help on the
+  trail this spring. Jondo starts west in two weeks."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I sprang up. Six feet of height, muscular,
+  adventure-loving, fearless, we had been made to order for the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail. And if I was still a dreamer and caught
+  sometimes the finer side of ideals, where Beverly Clarenden saw
+  only the matter-of-fact, visible things, no shrewder, braver,
+  truer plainsman ever walked the long distances of the old Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail than this boy with his bright face and
+  happy-go-lucky spirit unpained by dreams, untrammeled by
+  fancies.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Two weeks! We are ready to start right after supper," we
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I have other matters first," Uncle Esmond said. "Beverly,
+  you must go up to Fort Leavenworth and arrange a lot of things
+  with Banney for this trip. He's to go, too, because military
+  escort is short this season."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Suits me!" Beverly declared. "Old Bill Banney and I always could
+  get along together. And this infant here?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to send Gail down to the Catholic Mission, in Kansas.
+  You remember little Eloise St. Vrain, of course?" Uncle Esmond
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We do!" Beverly assured him. "Pretty as a doll, gritty as a
+  sand-bar, snappy as a lobster's claw--she dwells within my memory
+  yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  All girls were little children to us, for the scheme of things
+  had not included them in our affairs.<br>
+  <br>
+  I threw a handful of grass in the boy's face, and Uncle Esmond
+  went on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She's been at St. Ann's School at the Osage Mission down on the
+  Neosho River for two or three years, and now she is going to St.
+  Louis. In these troublesome times on the border, if I have a
+  personal interest, I feel safer if some big six-footer whom I can
+  trust comes along as an escort from the Neosho to the Missouri,"
+  Uncle Esmond explained.<br>
+  <br>
+  And then we spoke of other things: the stream of emigration
+  flowing into the country, the possibilities of the prairies, the
+  future of the city that should hold the key to the whole
+  Southwest, and especially of the chance and value of the trail
+  trade.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the big artery that carries the nation's life-blood here,"
+  Esmond Clarenden declared. "Some day when the West is full of
+  people, and dowered with prosperity, it may remember the men who
+  built the highway for the feet of trade to run in. And the West
+  may yet measure its greatness somewhat by the honesty and
+  faithfulness of the merchant of the frontier, and more by the
+  courage and persistence of the boys who drove the ox-teams across
+  the plains. Don't forget that you yourselves are State-builders
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  He spoke earnestly, but his words meant little to me. I was
+  looking out toward the wide-sweeping Kaw and thinking of the
+  journey I must make, and wondering if I should ever feel at ease
+  in the society of women. Wondering, too, what I should say, and
+  how I should really take care of "Little Lees," who had crossed
+  the plains with us almost a decade ago; the girl who had held my
+  hand tightly one night at old Fort Bent when the shadow had
+  slipped across the moon and filled the silvery court with a gray,
+  ghostly light.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night the old heart-hunger of childhood came back to me, the
+  visions of the day-dreaming little boy that were almost forgotten
+  in the years that had brought me to young manhood. And clearly
+  again, as when I heard Uncle Esmond's voice that night on the
+  tableland above the valley of the Santa F&eacute;, I heard his
+  gentle words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must fight
+  for, and even die for, that those who come after us may be the
+  better for our having them."<br>
+  <br>
+  But these thoughts passed with the night, and in my youth and
+  inexperience I took on a spirit of fatherly importance as I went
+  down to St. Ann's to safeguard a little girl on her way through
+  the Kansas territory to the Missouri River.<br>
+  <br>
+  It had been a beautiful day, and there was a freshness in the
+  soft evening breeze, and an up-springing sweetness from the
+  prairies. A shower had passed that way an hour before, and the
+  spirit of growing things seemed to fill the air with a voiceless
+  music.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at sunset the stage from the north put me down in front of
+  St. Ann's Academy in the little Osage Mission village on the
+  Neosho.<br>
+  <br>
+  A tall nun, with commanding figure and dignified bearing, left
+  the church steps across the road and came slowly toward me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am looking for Mother Bridget, the head of this school," I
+  said, lifting my hat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am Mother Bridget." The voice was low and firm. One could not
+  imagine disobedience under her rule.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come from Mr. Esmond Clarenden, to act as escort for a little
+  girl, Eloise St. Vrain, who is to leave here on the stage for
+  Kansas City to-morrow," I hesitatingly offered my letter of
+  introduction, which told all that I had tried to say, and
+  more.<br>
+  <br>
+  The woman's calm face was gentle, with the protective gentleness
+  of the stone that will not fail you when you lean on it. One felt
+  sure of Mother Bridget, as one feels sure of the solid rock to
+  build upon. She looked at me with keen, half-quizzical eyes. Then
+  she said, quietly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will find the little girl down by Flat Rock Creek. The
+  Indian girl, Po-a-be, is with her. There may be several Indian
+  girls down there, but Po-a-be is alone with little Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  I bowed and turned away, conscious that, with this good nun's
+  sincerity, she was smiling at me back of her eyes somehow.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I followed the way leading to the creek I passed a group or
+  two of Indian girls--St. Ann's, under the Loretto Sisterhood, was
+  fundamentally a mission school for these--and a trio of young
+  ladies, pretty and coquettish, with daring, mischievous eyes,
+  whose glances made me flush hot to the back of my neck as I
+  stumbled by them on my way to the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last sun rays were glistening on the placid waters of the
+  Flat Rock, and all the world was softly green, touched with a
+  golden glamour. I paused by a group of bushes to let the spell of
+  the hour have its way with me. I have always loved the beautiful
+  things of earth; as much now as in my childhood days, when I felt
+  ashamed to let my love be known; as now I dare to tell it only on
+  paper, and not to that dear, great circle of men and women who
+  know me best to-day.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sound of footsteps and the murmur of soft voices fitted into
+  the sweetness of that evening hour as two girls, one of them an
+  Indian, came slowly down a well-worn path from the fields above
+  the Flat Rock Valley. They did not see me as they sat down on
+  some broad stones beside the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  I started forward to make myself known, but caught myself
+  mid-step, for here was a picture to make any man pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl facing me was Little Blue Flower, the Kiowas'
+  captive, whom we had rescued at Pawnee Rock. Her heavy black hair
+  was coiled low on her neck, a headband of fine silverwork with
+  pink coral pendants was bound about her forehead and gleaming
+  against her jetty hair. With her well-poised head, her pure
+  Indian features, her lustrous dark eyes, her smooth brown skin,
+  her cheeks like the heart of those black-red roses that grow only
+  in richest soil--surely there was no finer type of that vanishing
+  race in all the Indian pueblos of the Southwest. But the girl
+  beside her! Was it really so many years ago that I stood by the
+  bushes on the Flat Rock's edge and saw that which I see so
+  clearly now? Then these years have been gracious indeed to me.
+  The sun's level beams fell on the masses of golden waves that
+  swept in soft little ripples back from the white brow to a coil
+  of gold on the white neck, held, like the Indian girl's, with a
+  headband of wrought silver, and goldveined turquoise; it fell on
+  the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the cheek, the red
+  lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their fringe of
+  long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the curves
+  of the white throat and the round white arms. Only a master's
+  hand could make you see these two, beautiful in their sharp
+  contrast of deep brown and scarlet against the dainty white and
+  gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Little Blue Flower, it will not make me change."<br>
+  <br>
+  I caught the words as I stepped toward the two, and the Indian's
+  soft, mournful answer:<br>
+  <br>
+  "But you are Miss St. Vrain now. You go away in the morning--and
+  I love you always."<br>
+  <br>
+  The heart in me stopped just when all its flood had reached my
+  face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Miss St. Vrain," I repeated, aloud.<br>
+  <br>
+  The two sprang up. That afternoon they had been dressed for a
+  girls' frolic in some Grecian fashion. I cannot tell a Watteau
+  pleat from window-curtain. I am only a man, and I do not name
+  draperies well. But these two standing before me were gowned
+  exactly alike, and yet I know that one was purely and
+  artistically Greek, and one was purely and gracefully Indian.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I beg your pardon. I am Mr. Clarenden," I managed to say.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the name Little Blue Flower's eyes looked as they did on that
+  hot May night out at Pawnee Rock when she heard Beverly
+  Clarenden's boyish voice ring out, defiantly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  But the great light that had leaped into the girl's eyes died
+  slowly out as she gazed at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are not Beverly Clarenden," she said, in a low voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, I'm Gail, the little one. Bev is up at Fort Leavenworth
+  now," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  She turned away without a word and, gathering her draperies about
+  her, sped up the pathway toward the fields above the
+  creek.<br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  And we two were alone together--the dark-eyed girl of my boyhood
+  vision, deep-shrined in the boy-heart's holy of holies, and I who
+  had waited for her coming. It was the hour of golden sunset and
+  long twilight afterglow on the glistening Flat Rock waters and
+  the green prairies beyond the Neosho.<br>
+  <br>
+  A sudden awakening came over me, and in one swift instant I
+  understood my boyhood dreams and hopes and visions.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will pardon me for coming so abruptly, Miss St. Vrain," I
+  said. "Mother Bridget told me I would find you here."<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl listened to my stumbling words with eyes full of
+  laughter.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't call me Miss St. Vrain, please. Let me be Eloise, and I
+  can call you Gail. Even with your height and your broad shoulders
+  you haven't changed much. And in all these years I was always
+  thinking of you growing up just as you are. Let's sit down and
+  get acquainted again."<br>
+  <br>
+  She offered me her hand and we sat down together. I could not
+  speak then, for one sentence was ringing in my ears--"I was
+  always thinking of you." In those years when Beverly and I had
+  put away all thoughts of sweethearts--they could not be a part of
+  the plainsman's life before us--sweethearts such as older boys in
+  school boasted about, "she was always thinking of me." The
+  thought brought a keen hurt as if I had done her some great
+  wrong, and it held me back from words.<br>
+  <br>
+  She could not interpret my silence, and a look of timidity crept
+  over her young face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't mean to be so--so bold with a stranger," she began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aren't bold, and we aren't strangers. I was just too stupid
+  to think anybody else could get out of childhood except old Bev
+  Clarenden and myself," I managed to say at last. "I even forgot
+  Mat Nivers, who is a young lady now, and Aunty Boone, who hasn't
+  changed a kink of her woolly hair. But we couldn't be strangers.
+  Not after that trip across the plains and living at old Fort Bent
+  as we did."<br>
+  <br>
+  I paused, and the memory of that last night at the fort made me
+  steal a glance at Eloise to see if she, too, remembered.<br>
+  <br>
+  She was fair to see just then, with the pink clouds mirrored on
+  the placid waters reflected in the pink of her cheeks.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you remember what I called you the first time I saw you?" She
+  looked up with shining eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You called me a big brown bob-cat, and you said I looked like
+  I'd slept in the Hondo 'royo all my life. I know I looked it,
+  too. I'll forgive you if you will excuse my blunder to-day. What
+  became of that boy, Marcos? Have you ever seen him since you left
+  Santa F&eacute;?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The fair face clouded, and a look of longing crept into the big,
+  dark eyes lifted pleadingly a moment to mine. I wanted to take
+  her in my arms right then and look about for something to kill
+  for her sake. Yet I would not, for the gold of all the Mexicos,
+  have touched the hem of her Grecian robe.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I have seen Marcos many times. His father went to old
+  Mexico after the war, but the Rameros do not stay long anywhere.
+  Marcos made life miserable for me sometimes." She paused
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Rameros. Then he was the son of the man who was my uncle's
+  enemy. Maybe you did as much for him, too, sometimes. You had the
+  spirit to do it, anyhow," I said, lightly, to hide my real
+  feeling.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I was a little cat. I'm a lot better now. Let's not go too much
+  into that time. Tell me where you have been and where you are
+  going." Eloise changed the subject easily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've been in Cincinnati, attending a boys' school for three
+  years. I start for Santa F&eacute; in two weeks. My uncle's store
+  is doing a big over land business, and he keeps the ox-teams just
+  fanning one another, coming and going across the prairies. I'm
+  crazy to go and see the open plains again. Cincinnati is a city
+  on stilts, and our little Independence-Westport Landing-Kansas
+  City place, as the Cincinnati of the great American desert, is
+  also pretty bumpy, the last place on earth to put a town--only we
+  can see almost to Santa F&eacute;, New Mexico, from the hilltops.
+  Won't it be great to view that mud-walled town again? Bev is
+  going, too--to kill a few Indians for our winter's meat, he says,
+  in his wicked, blood-thirsty way." So I ran on, glad to be alive
+  in the delicious beauty of that spring evening as we together
+  went back over the days of our young years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, may we take another passenger to-morrow?" Eloise asked,
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, as many as the stage will hold! There's to be a nun and a
+  priest and yourself. I'm chaperon. I could take the priest on my
+  lap if he isn't too bulky," I answered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to take Po-a-be. I can't tell you why now." The lashes
+  dropped over the brown eyes, and I wondered how she could think
+  that I could refuse her anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we'll take her on faith and the stage-coach. She can come
+  right to Castle Clarenden and stay till she gets ready to hurdle
+  off to her own 'wickie up'. She has grown into a beautiful Indian
+  woman, though I couldn't call her a squaw."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She isn't a squaw. I'm glad to hear you say that. I think it
+  will make her very happy to stay at your home for a while. She
+  will miss me a little when we leave here, maybe," Eloise said,
+  looking at me with a grateful smile that sent a tingle to my
+  fingertips.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Won't you stay, too?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this
+  beautiful girl might slip away as easily as she had come into my
+  life here.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise laughed at my earnestness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I couldn't stay long," she said, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And why not?" I burst in, eagerly. "What have you in Santa
+  F&eacute;?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "A little money and a lot of memories," she replied,
+  seriously.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I can bring the money up to Kansas for you in an ox-train
+  easily enough, and you could blow up the old mud-box of a town
+  and not hurt a hair on the head of a single memory. You know you
+  can take them anywhere you go. I do mine."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to St. Louis, anyhow," Eloise returned, "and you have
+  no sacred memories--boys don't care for things like girls
+  do."<br>
+  <br>
+  "They don't? They don't? And I have forgotten the little girl who
+  was afraid one moonlit night out in the court at Fort Bent and
+  asked me that I shouldn't ever let Marcos pull her hair. Yes,
+  boys forget."<br>
+  <br>
+  I laid my hand on her arm and bent forward to look into her face.
+  For just one flash those big dark eyes looked straight at me,
+  with something in their depths that I shall never forget.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then she moved lightly from me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, all children remember, I suppose. I do, anyhow--a thousand
+  things I'd like to forget. It is lovely by the river. Suppose we
+  go down there for a little while. I must not stay out here too
+  long."<br>
+  <br>
+  I took her arm and we strolled down the quiet path in the
+  twilight sweetness to where the broad Neosho, brim full from the
+  spring rains, swept on between picturesque banks. The afterglow
+  of sunset was flaming gorgeously above the western prairies, and
+  the mists along the Neosho were lavender and mother-of-pearl. And
+  before all this had deepened to purple darkness the full moon
+  would swing up the sky, swathing the earth with a softened
+  radiance. All the beauty of this warm spring night seemed but a
+  setting for this girl in her graceful Greek draperies, with the
+  waving gold of her hair and her dainty pink-and-white
+  coloring.<br>
+  <br>
+  A new heaven and a new earth had begun for me, and a delicious
+  longing, clean and sweet, that swept every commoner feeling far
+  away. What matter that the life before me be filled with danger,
+  and all the coarse and cruel things of the hard days of the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail? In that hour I knew the best of life that a
+  young man can know. Its benediction after all these years of
+  change is on me still. Awhile we watched the flashing ripples on
+  the river, and the sky's darkening afterglow. Then we turned to
+  the moonlit east.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you know what the people of Hopi-land call this month?"
+  Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know Hopi words for what is beautiful," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They call it 'the Moon of the Peach Blossom', and they cherish
+  the time in their calendar."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then we will be Hopi people," I declared, "for it was in their
+  Moon of the Peach Blossom that you grew up for me from the little
+  girl who called me a bob-cat down in the doorway of the old San
+  Miguel Church in Santa F&eacute;, and from Aunty Boone's 'Little
+  Lees' at old Fort Bent, to the Eloise of St. Ann's by the Kansas
+  Neosho."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sound of a sweet-toned bell told us that we must not stay
+  longer, and together we followed the path from the Flat Rock up
+  to the academy door. And all the way was like the ways of
+  Paradise to me, for I was in the peach-blossom moon of my own
+  life. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="X" id="X">X</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE HANDS THAT CLING</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+      The hands that take<br>
+    No weight from your sad cross, oh, lighter far<br>
+    It were but for the burden that they bring!<br>
+    God only knows what hind'ring things they are--<br>
+      The hands that cling.<br>
+                      --ESTHER M. CLARK<br></p>
+
+  <p>The next morning three of us waited in the stage before the
+  door of St. Ann's Academy. A thin-faced nun, who was called
+  Sister Anita, sat beside Eloise St. Vrain, her snowy head-dress,
+  with her black veil and somber garments, contrasting sharply with
+  the silver-gray hat and traveling costume of her companion. Hints
+  of pink-satin linings to coat-collar and pocket-flaps, and the
+  pink facing of the broad hat-brim, seemed borrowed from the
+  silver and pink of misty morning skies, with the golden hair
+  catching the glint of all the early sunbeams. There was a
+  tenderness in the bright face, the sadness which parting puts
+  temporarily into young countenances. The girl looked lovingly at
+  the church, and St. Ann's, and the green fields reaching up to
+  the edge of the mission premises.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we waited, Mother Bridget and Little Blue Flower came slowly
+  out of the academy door. The good mother's arm was around the
+  Indian girl, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked down
+  affectionately at the dark face.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower, true to her heritage, gave no sign of grief
+  save for the burning light in her big, dry eyes. She listened
+  silently to Mother Bridget's parting words of advice and
+  submitted without response to the embrace and gentle good-by kiss
+  on her brown forehead.<br>
+  <br>
+  The good woman gazed into my face with penetrating eyes, as if to
+  measure my trustworthiness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will see that no harm comes to my little Po-a-be. The wolves
+  of the forest are not the only danger for the unprotected lambs,"
+  she said, earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll do my best, Mother Bridget," I responded, feeling a
+  swelling pride in my double charge.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mother Bridget patted Eloise's hand and turned away. She loved
+  all of her girls, but her heart went out most to the Indian
+  maidens whom she led toward her civilization and her sacred
+  creed.<br>
+  <br>
+  As she turned away, the priest who was to go with us came out of
+  the church door to the stage.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower sat with the other two women, facing us, her
+  dark-green dress with her rich coloring making as strong a
+  contrast as the nun's black robe against the pink-touched
+  silver-gray gown. And the Indian face, strong, impenetrable, with
+  a faintly feminine softening of the racial features, and the
+  luminous black eyes, gave setting to the pure Saxon type of her
+  companion.<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned from the three to greet the priest and give him a place
+  beside me. His face seemed familiar, but it was not until I heard
+  his voice, in a courteous good-morning, that I knew him to be the
+  Father Josef who had met us on the way into Santa F&eacute; years
+  before, and who later had shown us the little golden-haired girl
+  asleep on the hard bench in the old mission church of Agua Fria.
+  A page of my boyhood seemed suddenly to have opened there, and I
+  wondered curiously at the meaning of it all. Life, that for three
+  years had been something of a monotonous round of action for a
+  boy of the frontier, was suddenly filling each day with events
+  worth while. I wondered many things concerning Father Josef's
+  presence there, but I had the grace to ask no questions as we
+  five journeyed over the rolling green prairies of Kansas in the
+  pleasant time of year which the Hopi calls the Moon of the Peach
+  Blossom.<br>
+  <br>
+  The priest appeared hardly a day older than when I had first seen
+  him, and he chatted genially as we rode along.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are losing two of our stars," he said, with a gallant little
+  bow. "Miss St. Vrain goes to St. Louis to relatives, I believe,
+  and Little Blue Flower, eventually, to New Mexico. St. Ann's
+  under Mother Bridget is doing a wonderful work among our people,
+  but it is not often that a girl comes here from such a distance
+  as New Mexico."<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to fancy what the Indian girl's thoughts might be as the
+  priest said this, but her face, as usual, gave no clue to her
+  mind's activity.<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the Santa F&eacute; Trail crossed the Wakarusa Father Josef
+  left us to join a wagon-train going west. Sister Anita, who was
+  hurrying back to Kentucky, she said, on some churchly errand,
+  took a steamer at Westport Landing, and the three of us came to
+  the Clarenden home on the crest of the bluff.<br>
+  <br>
+  We had washed off our travel stains and come out on the veranda
+  when we saw Beverly Clarenden standing in the sunlight, waiting
+  for us. I had never seen him look so handsome as he did that day,
+  dressed in the full regalia of the plains: a fringed and beaded
+  buckskin coat, dark pantaloons held inside of high-topped boots,
+  a flannel shirt, with a broad black silk tie fastened in a big
+  bow at his throat, and his wide-brimmed felt hat set back from
+  his forehead. Clean-shaven, his bright brown hair--a trifle long,
+  after the custom of the frontier--flung back from his brow, his
+  blooming face wearing the happy smile of youth, his tall form
+  easily erect, he seemed the very embodiment of that defiant power
+  that swept the old Santa F&eacute; Trail clean for the feet of
+  its commerce to run swiftly along. I am glad that I never envied
+  him--brother of my heart, who loved me so.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was not as surprised as I had been to find the grown-up girl
+  instead of the little child. That wasn't Beverly's way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm mighty glad to meet you again," he said, with jaunty air,
+  grasping Eloise by the hand. "You look just as--shall I say
+  promising, as ever."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm glad to see you, Beverly. You and Gail have been my biggest
+  assets of memory these many years." Eloise was at ease with him
+  in a moment. Somehow they never misunderstood each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I'm always an asset, but Gail here gets to be a liability if
+  you let him stay around too long."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Here is somebody else. Don't you remember Little Blue Flower?"
+  Eloise interrupted him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower! Why, I should say I do! And are you that
+  little blossom?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face beamed, and he caught the Indian girl's hand in
+  both of his in a brotherly grasp. He wasn't to blame that nature
+  had made him frank and unimaginative.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I haven't forgotten the last time I saw your face in a wide
+  crack between two adobe shacks. A 'flower in the crannied wall'
+  in that 'pure water' sand-pile in New Mexico. I'd have plucked
+  you out of the cranny right then, if old Rex Krane hadn't given
+  us our 'forward march!' orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high
+  and sneaky as a cat, hadn't been lurking in the middle distance
+  to pluck <i>me</i> as a brand <i>for</i> the burning. And now you
+  are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How did you ever
+  get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but
+  at the mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright
+  face became expressionless.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth
+  the way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a
+  visit.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on,
+  gaily. "Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse
+  packing merchandise for the Santa F&eacute; trade. Even big black
+  Aunty Boone, getting supper in there, is still a feature of this
+  circus. If only that slim Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here
+  now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to be here soon, and if all goes
+  well he will go with us to Santa F&eacute; again. How about it,
+  Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"<br>
+  <br>
+  But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below
+  us. Her wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were
+  pink with excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane
+  striding up the hill, with the easy swing of vigorous health. No
+  longer the slender, slouching young idol of my boyhood days, with
+  Eastern cut of garment and devil-may-care dejection of manner,
+  all hiding a loving tenderness for the unprotected, and a daring
+  spirit that scorned danger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
+  tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace
+  pipe."<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands
+  he reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And
+  he held them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful
+  eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the
+  trail in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always
+  looked at Mat when he talked to all of us. And I used to think
+  that he must have had a little sister like her. Now I knew in an
+  instant why Mat could not meet his eyes to-day with that
+  unconcern with which she met them when she was a child to me, and
+  he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown up. I knew
+  more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by the
+  shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
+  alive to every tint and odor and musical note for every other
+  wayfarer therein.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a glorious week that followed, and one to remember on
+  the long trail days coming to us. I have no quarrel with the
+  happy youth of to-day, but I feel no sense of loss nor spirit of
+  envy when they tell me--all young people are my friends--when
+  they tell me of golf-links and automobile rides, or even the
+  daring hint of airplanes. To the heart of youth the
+  gasolene-motor or the thrill of the air-craft to-day is no more
+  than the Indian pony and the uncertain chance of the crude old
+  canoe on the clear waters of the Big Blue when Kansas City was a
+  village and the Kansas prairies were in their virgin glory.<br>
+  <br>
+  Bill Banney had come out of the Mexican War, no longer an
+  adventure lover, but a seasoned frontiersman. His life knew few
+  of the gentler touches. He gave it to the plains, where so many
+  lives went, unhonored and unsung, into the building of an
+  enduring empire.<br>
+  <br>
+  We would have included him in all the frolic of that wonderful
+  week in the Moon of the Peach Blossom--but he gave us no
+  opportunity to do so. And we were young, and the society of girls
+  was a revelation to us. So with the carelessness of youth we
+  forgot him. We forgot many things that week that, in Heaven's
+  name, we had cause enough to remember in the years that followed
+  after.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's a theatrical troupe come up from St. Louis to play here
+  to-night," Rex Krane announced, after supper. "Mat, will you let
+  me take you down to see the villain get what's due all villains?
+  Then if we have to kill off Gail and Bev, it will not be so
+  awkward."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't we all go?" Mat suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Never mind us, Lady Nivers. Little Blue Flower, may I have the
+  pleasure of your company? I need protection to-night," Beverly
+  said, with much ceremony.<br>
+  <br>
+  Little Blue Flower was sitting next to him, or it might not have
+  begun that way.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, say yes. He's no poorer company than that company of actors
+  down town," Rex urged.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian girl assented with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not smile often and when she did her eyes were full of
+  light, and her red lips and perfect white teeth were beautiful
+  enough for a queen to envy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Lees, it seems you are doomed to depend on Gail or jump
+  in the Kaw. I'd prefer the Kaw myself, but life is full of
+  troubles. One more can be endured." Rex had turned to Eloise St.
+  Vrain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Seems to me, having first choice, you might have been more
+  considerate of my lot yourself," Eloise declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He was. He saved you from a worse fate when he chose Mat," I
+  broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "May we have a song by the choir?" Beverly interrupted, and with
+  his full bass voice he began to roar our some popular tune of
+  that time.<br>
+  <br>
+  And it went on as it began, the rambles about the rugged bluffs
+  and picturesque ravines, where to-day the hard-surfaced Cliff
+  Drive makes a scenic highway through the beauty spots of a
+  populous city; the daring canoe rides on the rivers; the
+  gatherings of the young folk in the town; and the long twilight
+  hours on the crest of the bluff overlooking the two great
+  waterways. And as by the first selection, Beverly and Little Blue
+  Flower were companions. Nobody could be unhappy with Bev, least
+  of all the shy Indian girl with a face full of sunshine, now. And
+  I? I walked a pathway strewn with rose petals because the
+  golden-haired Little Lees was beside me. Each day was a frolic
+  day for us, teasing one another and making a joke of life, and
+  for the morrow we took no thought at all.<br>
+  <br>
+  One evening Eloise St. Vrain and I sat together on the bluff. It
+  was the twilight hour, and all the far valley of the Kaw was full
+  of iridescent misty lights, with gold-tipped clouds of pale
+  lavender above, and the glistening silver of the river below. We
+  could hear Beverly and Little Blue Flower laughing together in a
+  big swing among the maples. Aunty Boone was crooning some African
+  melodies in the bushes half-way down the slope. Rex and Mat had
+  gone to the ravine below to meet Uncle Esmond.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Lees, the first time I ever saw you you were away out
+  there in such a misty light as that, and I saw only your hair and
+  your eyes then, but as clearly as I see them now."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise turned questioningly toward me, and the light in her dark
+  eyes thrilled to the heart of me. In all her stay with us I had
+  hardly spoken earnestly of anything before.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When was that Gail?" she asked, the frivolous spirit gone from
+  her, too.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When I was a little boy, one day at Fort Leavenworth. And when I
+  caught sight of you at the door of old San Miguel I knew you," I
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl turned her face toward the west again and was silent. I
+  felt my cheeks flush hotly. I had made her think I was only a
+  dream-sick fool, when I had told her of the sacredest moment of
+  my life, and I had for the minute foolishly felt that she might
+  understand. How could I know that it was I who could not
+  understand?<br>
+  <br>
+  At last she looked up with a smile as full of mischief as on that
+  day when she had called me a big brown bob-cat.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must have been having a nightmare in your sleep," she
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think I was," I replied, testily. "Let me tell you something,
+  Little Lees, something really important."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't believe you know one important thing," Eloise replied,
+  "but I'll listen, and then if it is I'll tell you something more
+  important."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm willing to hear it now. Tell me first," I replied, wondering
+  the while how nature, that gives rough-hewn bearded faces to men,
+  could make a face so daintily colored, in its youthful roundness,
+  as hers.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm going to start to St. Louis day after to-morrow at six
+  o'clock in the morning. Isn't that important?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Was there a real earnestness under the lightly spoken words, or
+  did I imagine it so? If I had only made sure then--but I was
+  young.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Important! It's a tragedy! I start west in three days, at eight
+  o'clock in the morning," I said, carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sometimes the gray shadows fall on us when neither sunlight nor
+  moonlight nor starlight is dimmed by any film of vapor. They fell
+  on me then, and I shivered in my soul. How could I speak
+  otherwise than carelessly and not show what must not be known?
+  And how could the girl beside me know that I was speaking thus to
+  keep down the shiver of that cold shadow? I suppose it must
+  always be the same old story, year after year-- </p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">till the leaves of the judgment book
+  unfold.</p>
+
+  <p>"What was that important something you were going to tell me?
+  What Mat told me last night when we were watching the moon rise?"
+  Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That Rex and Mat are going to be married to-morrow evening at
+  early candle-lighting--'early mosquito-biting,' Bev calls it. Rex
+  has loved Mat since the day when he joined our little wagon-train
+  out of a foolish sort of notion that he could protect us
+  children, otherwise his life was useless to him. But something in
+  his own boyhood made him pity all orphan children. I think it was
+  through neglect in childhood he became an invalid at nineteen. He
+  doesn't show the marks of it now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I paused and looked at the young girl beside me, whose eyes were
+  like stars in the deepening gloom of the evening. It was
+  delicious to have her look at me and listen to me. It was
+  delicious to live in a rose-hued twilight, and I forgot the chill
+  of that gray shadow lurking near.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next evening was entrancing with the soft air of spring, a
+  night made purposely for brides. The wedding itself was simple in
+  its appointments, as such events must needs be in the frontier
+  years. All day we had worked to decorate the plain stone house,
+  which the deftness of Little Blue Flower and the artistic touch
+  of Little Lees turned into a spring bower, with trailing vines
+  and blossoms everywhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mat's wedding-gown was neither new nor elaborate, for the affair
+  had been too hastily decided on, but Eloise had made it
+  bride-like by draping a filmy veil over Mat's bright brown hair,
+  and Little Blue Flower had brought her long strands of turquoise
+  beads, "old and borrowed and blue," to fulfil the needs of every
+  bride.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the bridal party Beverly and I walked in front, followed by
+  the two girls in the white Greek robes which they had worn at the
+  school frolic at St. Ann's, and wearing their headbands, the one
+  of silver and turquoise, the other of silver and coral. Then came
+  Rex Krane and Bill Banney. Poor Bill! Nobody guessed that night
+  that the bridal blossoms were flowers on the coffin of his dead
+  hope. And last of all, Esmond Clarenden and Mat Nivers, with
+  shining eyes, leaning on his arm. I had never seen Uncle Esmond
+  in evening dress before, nor dreamed how splendid a figure he
+  could make for a drawing-room in the costume in which he was so
+  much at ease. But the handsomest man of all the large company
+  gathered there that night was Jondo, big, broad-shouldered Jondo,
+  his deep-blue eyes bright with joy for these two. And in the
+  background was Aunty Boone, resplendent in a new red calico
+  besprinkled with her favorite white dots, her head turbaned in a
+  yellow silk bandana, and about her neck a strand of huge green
+  glass beads. Her eyes glistened as she watched that night's
+  events, and her comfortable ejaculations of approval were like
+  the low purr of a satisfied cat. Then came the solemn pledges,
+  the benediction and congratulations. There was merrymaking and
+  singing, cake and unfermented wine of grapes for refreshing, and
+  much good will that night.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the guests were gone and the lights, save one kitchen
+  candle, were all out, I had slipped from the dining-room with the
+  last burden of dishes, when I paused a minute beside the open
+  kitchen window to let the midnight breeze cool my face.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the side porch, a little affair made to shelter the doorway, I
+  saw Beverly Clarenden and Little Blue Flower. He was speaking
+  gently, but with his blunt frankness, as he patted the two brown
+  hands clinging to his arm. The Indian girl's white draperies were
+  picturesque anywhere. In this dramatic setting they were
+  startlingly beautiful, and her face, outlined in the dim light,
+  was a thing rare to see. I could not hear her words, but her soft
+  Hopi voice had a tender tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  I was waiting to let them pass in when I heard Beverly's voice,
+  and I saw him bend over the little maiden, and, putting one arm
+  around her, he drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. I
+  knew it was a brother's sympathetic act--and all men know how
+  dangerous a thing that is; that there are no ties binding brother
+  to sister except the bonds of kindred blood. The girl slipped
+  inside the dining-room door, and a minute later a candle
+  flickered behind her bedroom window-blind in the gable of the
+  house. I waited for Beverly to go, determined never to mention
+  what I had seen, when I caught the clear low voice whose tones
+  could make my pulse thresh in its walls.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly, Beverly, it breaks my heart--" I lost the remainder of
+  the sentence, but Beverly's words were clear and direct and full
+  of a frank surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, do you really care?"<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned away quickly that I might not hear any more. The rest of
+  that night I sat wide awake and staring at the misty valley of
+  the Kaw, where silvery ripples flashed up here and there against
+  the shadowy sand-bars.</p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p>The steamboat for St. Louis left the Westport Landing wharf at
+  six o'clock in the morning, before the mists had lifted over the
+  big yellow Missouri. From our bluff I saw the smoke belch from
+  its stacks as it pulled away and started down-stream; but only
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo waited to wave good-by to the sweet-faced
+  girl looking back at them from its deck. Beverly had overslept,
+  and Little Blue Flower had left an hour earlier with a
+  wagon-train starting west toward Council Grove. In her room lay
+  the white Grecian robe and the headband of wrought silver with
+  coral pendants. On the little white pin-cushion on the
+  dressing-table the bright pin-heads spelled out one Hopi word
+  that carries all good will and blessing</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">LOLOMI.</p>
+
+  <p>Twenty-four hours later Rex Krane left his bride, and he and
+  Bill Banney and Beverly and I, under command of Jondo, started on
+  our long trip overland to Santa F&eacute;. And two of us carried
+  some memories we hoped to lose when new scenes and certain perils
+  should surround us.</p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XI" id="XI">XI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  "OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  And you all know security<br>
+  Is mortal's chiefest enemy.<br>
+                              SHAKESPEARE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  <br>
+  In St. Louis and Kansas City men of Esmond Clarenden's type were
+  sending out great caravans of goods and receiving return cargoes
+  across the plains--pioneer trade-builders, uncrowned sovereigns
+  of national expansion--against whose enduring power wars for
+  conquest are as flashlight to daylight. And Beverly Clarenden and
+  I, with the whole battalion of plainsmen--"bull-whackers," in the
+  common parlance of the Santa F&eacute; Trail--who drove those
+  caravans to and fro, may also have been State-builders, as Uncle
+  Esmond had declared we would be. Yet we hardly looked like makers
+  of empire in those summer days when we followed the great
+  wagon-trains along the prairies and over the mountain passes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Two of us had come home from school hilariously eager for the
+  trail service. But the silent plains made men thoughtful and
+  introspective. Days of endless level landscapes under
+  wide-arching skies, and nights in the open beneath the
+  everlasting silent stars, give a man time to get close to
+  himself, to relive his childhood, to measure human values, to
+  hear the voice in the storm-cloud and the song of low-purring
+  winds, to harden against the monotonous glare of sunlight, to
+  defy the burning heat, and to feel--aye, to feel the spell of
+  crystal day-dawns and the sweetness of velvet-shadowed twilights.
+  Beverly and I were typical plainsmen in that we never spoke of
+  these things to each other--that is not the way of the
+  plainsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our company had been organized at Council Grove--three trains of
+  twenty-six wagons each, drawn by three or four spans of mules or
+  yoke of oxen, guarded by eightscore of "bull-whackers." And there
+  were a dozen or more ponies trained for swift riding in cases of
+  emergency. There were also half a dozen private outfits under
+  protection of the large body.<br>
+  <br>
+  The usual election before starting had made Jondo captain of the
+  whole company. His was the controlling type of spirit that could
+  have bent a battalion or swayed a Congress. For all the
+  commanders and lawmakers of that day were not confined to the
+  army and to Congress. Some of them escaped to the West and became
+  sovereigns of service there. And Jondo had need for an intrepid
+  spirit to rule that group of men, as that journey across the
+  plains proved.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the day before we left Council Grove he was sitting with the
+  heads of the other wagon-trains under a big oak-tree, perfecting
+  final plans for the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I want you to sign some papers here," he said. "It is the
+  agreement for the trip among the three companies owning the
+  trains."<br>
+  <br>
+  I read aloud the contract setting forth how one Jean Deau,
+  representing Esmond Clarenden, of Kansas City, with Smith and
+  Davis, representing two other companies from St. Louis, together
+  agreed to certain conditions regarding the journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  Smith and Davis had already signed, and as I took the pen, a
+  white-haired old trapper who was sitting near by burst out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jean Deau! Jean Deau! Who the devil is Jean Deau?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo did not look up, but the lines hardened about his
+  mouth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's a sound. Don't get in the way, old man. Go ahead,
+  Clarenden," Smith commanded.<br>
+  <br>
+  Few questions were asked in those days, for most men on the
+  plains had a history, and it was what a man could do here, not
+  what he had done somewhere else, that counted.<br>
+  <br>
+  So I, representing Esmond Clarenden, signed the paper and the two
+  managers hurried away. But the old trapper sat staring at
+  Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say, I'm gittin' close to the end of the trail, and the divide
+  ain't fur off for me. D'ye mind if I say somethin'?" he asked at
+  last.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up with that smile that could warm any man's
+  heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on," he commanded, kindly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aint never signin' your own name nowhere, it sorter
+  seems."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo shook his head.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Didn't you and this Clarenden outfit go through here 'bout ten
+  years ago one night? Some Mexican greasers was raisin' hell and
+  proppin' it up with a whisky-bottle that night, layin' fur you
+  vicious."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo smiled and nodded assent.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, them fellers comin' in had a bargain with a passel of
+  Kioways to git you plenty if they missed you themselves; to
+  clinch their bargain they give 'em a pore little Hopi Injun girl
+  they'd brung along with a lot of other Mexicans and squaws."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I had that figured out pretty well at the time," Jondo said,
+  with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Jean Deau--" the old man began.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, Jondo. Go on. I'm busy," Jondo interrupted.<br>
+  <br>
+  The old man's watery eyes gleamed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I just want to say friendly-like, that them Kioways never forgot
+  the trick you worked on 'em, an' the <i>tornydo</i> that busted
+  'em at Pawnee Rock they laid to your bad medicine. They went
+  clare back to Bent's Fort to fix you. Them and that rovin' bunch
+  of Mexicans that scattered along the trail with 'em in time of
+  the Mexican War. They'd 'a' lost you but fur a little Apache cuss
+  they struck out there who showed 'em to you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up quickly now. Santan, Beverly's "Satan," whom our
+  captain had defended, flashed to my mind, but I knew by Jondo's
+  face that he did not believe the old trapper's story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Them Kioways is still layin' fur you ever' year, I tell you, an'
+  they're bound to git you sooner or later. I'm tellin' ye in
+  kindness."<br>
+  <br>
+  The old man's voice weakened a little.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I'm taking you in kindness," Jondo said. "You may be doing
+  me a great service."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I shore am. Take my word an' keep awake. Keep awake!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In spite of his drink-bleared eyes and weakened frame, there was
+  a hint of the commander in him, a mere shadow of the energy that
+  had gone years ago into the wild, solitary life of the trapper
+  who foreran the trail days here.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more trip to the ha'nts of the fur-bearin' and it's good-by
+  to the mountain trails and the river courses fur me," he said, as
+  he rose and stalked unsteadily away, and--I never saw him
+  again.<br>
+  <br>
+  At daybreak the next morning we were off for Santa F&eacute;. Our
+  wagons, loaded with their precious burdens, moved forward six
+  abreast along the old sun-flower bordered trail. Morning, noon,
+  and evening, pitching camp and breaking camp, yoking oxen and
+  harnessing mules, keeping night vigil by shifts, hunting buffalo,
+  killing rattlesnakes, watching for signs of hostile Indians,
+  meeting incoming trains, or solitary trappers, at long intervals,
+  breathing the sweet air of the prairies, and gathering rugged
+  strength from sleep on the wholesome earth--these things, with
+  the jolliest of fellowship and perfect discipline of our captain,
+  Jondo, made this hard, free life of the plains a fascinating one.
+  We were unshaven and brown as Indians. We lost every ounce of
+  fat, but we were steel-sinewed, and fear, that wearing element
+  that disintegrates the soul, dropped away from us early on the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  But when the full moon came sweeping up the sky, and all the
+  prairie shadows lay flat to earth under its surge of clear light,
+  in the stillness of the great lonely land, then the battle with
+  home-sickness was not the least of the plains' perils.<br>
+  <br>
+  One midnight watch of such a night, Jondo sat out my vigil with
+  me. Our eighty or more wagons were drawn up in a rude ellipse
+  with the stock corraled inside, for we were nearing the danger
+  zone. And yet to-night danger seemed impossible in such a
+  peaceful land under such clear moonlight.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, you were always a far-seeing youngster, even in your cub
+  days," Jondo said, after we had sat silent for a long time. "We
+  are moving into trouble from to-night, and I'll need you
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think so, Jondo?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That train we met going east at noon."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mexicans with silver and skins worth double our stuff, what have
+  they to do with us?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One of the best men I have ever known is a Mexican in Santa
+  F&eacute;. The worst man I have ever known is an American there.
+  But I've never yet trusted a Mexican when you bunch them
+  together. They don't fit into American harness, and it will be a
+  hundred years before the Mexican in our country will really love
+  the Stars and Stripes. Deep down in his heart he will hate
+  it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember Felix Narveo and Ferdinand Ramero mighty well," I
+  commented.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo stared at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't a boy remember things?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It takes a boy to remember; and they grow up and we forget they
+  have had eyes, ears, feelings, memories, all keener than we can
+  ever have in later years. Gail, the Mexican train comes from
+  Felix Narveo, and Narveo is a man of a thousand. They bring word,
+  however, that the Kiowas are unusually friendly and that we have
+  nothing to fear this side of the Cimarron. They don't feel sure
+  of the Utes and Apaches."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Good enough!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, only they lie when they say it. It's a trap to get us. No
+  Kiowa on the plains will let a Clarenden train through
+  peacefully, because we took their captive, Little Blue Flower.
+  It's a hatred kept alive in the Kiowas by one man in Santa
+  F&eacute; through his Mexican agents with Narveo's train."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And that man is Ramero?" I questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That man is Ramero, and his capacity for hate is appalling.
+  Gail, there's only one thing in the world that is stronger than
+  hate, and that is love."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked out over the moonlit plains, his fine head erect,
+  even in his meditative moods.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When a Mexican says a Kiowa has turned friendly, don't believe
+  him. And when a Kiowa says it himself--kill him. It's your only
+  safe course," Jondo said, presently.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, why does Ramero stir up the Indians and Mexicans against
+  Uncle Esmond?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because Clarenden drove him into exile in New Mexico before it
+  was United States territory," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What did he do that for?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because of what Ramero had done to me," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, New Mexico is United States territory now. What keeps this
+  Ramero in Santa F&eacute;, if he is there?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I keep him there. It's safer to know just where a man like that
+  is. So I put a ring around the town and left him inside of
+  it."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused and turned toward me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder comes Banney to go on guard now. Gail, I'll tell you all
+  about it some day. I couldn't on a night like this."<br>
+  <br>
+  The deep voice sent a shiver through me. There was a pathos in
+  it, too manly for tears, too courageous for pity.<br>
+  <br>
+  The days that followed were hard ones. Word had gotten through
+  the camp that the Indians were very friendly, and that we need
+  not be uneasy this side of the Cimarron country. Smith and Davis
+  agreed with the train captain, Jondo, in taking no chances, but
+  most of the one hundred sixty bull-whackers stampeded like cattle
+  against precaution, and rebelled at his rigid ruling. He had
+  begun to tighten down upon us as we went farther and farther into
+  the heart of a savage domain. The night guard was doubled and
+  every precaution for the stock was demanded, giving added cause
+  for grumbling and muttered threats which no man had the courage
+  to speak openly to Jondo's face. I knew why he had said that he
+  would need me. Bill Banney was always reliable, but growing more
+  silent and unapproachable every day. Rex Krane's mind was on the
+  girl-wife he had left in the stone house on the bluff above the
+  Missouri. Beverly was too cock-sure of himself and too
+  light-hearted, too eager for an Indian fight. Jondo could counsel
+  with Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains, but only as a last
+  resort would he dictate to them. So he turned to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were nearing Pawnee Rock, but as yet no hint of an Indian
+  trail could we find anywhere. Advance-guards and rear-guards had
+  no news to report when night came, and the sense of security grew
+  hourly. The day had been very warm, but our nooning was shortened
+  and we went into camp early. Everything had gone wrong that day:
+  harness had broken; mules had grown fractious; a wagon had upset
+  on a rough bit of the trail; half a dozen men, including Smith
+  and Davis of the St. Louis trains, had fallen suddenly ill;
+  drinking-water had been warm and muddy; and, most of all, the
+  consciousness of wide-spread opposition to Jondo's strict ruling
+  where there were no signs of danger made a very ugly-spirited
+  group of men who sat down together to eat our evening meal. Bets
+  were openly made that we wouldn't see a hostile redskin this side
+  of Santa F&eacute;. Covert sneers pointed many comments, and grim
+  silence threatened more than everything else. Jondo's face was
+  set, but there was a calmness about his words and actions, and
+  even the most rebellious that night knew he was least afraid of
+  any man among us.<br>
+  <br>
+  At midnight he wakened me. "I want you to help me, Gail," he
+  said. "The Kiowas will gather for us at Pawnee Rock. They missed
+  us there once because they were looking for a big train, and it
+  was there we took their captive girl. The boys are ready to
+  mutiny to-night. I count on you to stand by me." Stand by Jondo!
+  In my helpless babyhood, my orphaned childhood, my sturdy growing
+  years toward young manhood, Jondo had been father, mother,
+  brother, playmate, guardian angel. I would have walked on red-hot
+  coals for his sake.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want you to slip away to-night, when Rex and Bev are on guard,
+  and find out what's over that ridge to the north. Don't come back
+  till you do find out. We'll get to Pawnee Rock to-morrow. I must
+  know to-night. Can you do it? If you aren't back by sunrise, I'll
+  follow your trail double quick."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll go," I replied, proud to show both my courage and my
+  loyalty to my captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  The night was gray, with a dying moon in the west, and the north
+  ridge loomed like a low black shadow against the sky. There was a
+  weird chanting voice in the night wind, pouring endlessly across
+  the open plains. And everywhere an eyeless, voiceless, motionless
+  land, whereon my pony's hoof-beats were big and booming. Nature
+  made my eyes and ears for the trail life, and matched my soul to
+  its level spaces. To-night I was alert with that love of mastery
+  that made me eager for this task. So I rode forward until our
+  great camp was only a dull blot on the horizon-line, melting into
+  mere nothingness as it grew farther away. And I was alone on the
+  earth. God had taken out every other thing in it, save the sky
+  over my head and the uneven short-grass sod under my feet.<br>
+  <br>
+  On I went, veering to the northwest from instinct that I should
+  find my journey's end soonest that way. Over the divide which hid
+  the wide valley of the Arkansas, and into the deep draws and low
+  bluffs of a creek with billowy hills beyond, I found myself still
+  instinctively <i>smelling</i> my way. I grew more cautious with
+  each step now, knowing that the chance for me to slip along
+  unseen gave also the chance for an enemy to trail me unseen.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last I caught that low breathing sound that goes with the
+  sense of nearness to life. Leaving my pony by the stream, I
+  climbed to the top of a little swell, and softly as a cat walks
+  on a carpet, I walked straight into an Indian camp. It was well
+  chosen for outlook near, and security from afar. There was a
+  growing light in the sky that follows the darkness of moonset and
+  runs before the break of dawn. Everything in the camp was dead
+  still. I saw evidences of war-paint and a recent war-dance that
+  forerun an Indian attack. I estimated the strength of the
+  enemy--possibly four hundred warriors, and noted the symbols of
+  the Kiowa tribe. Then, thrilled with pride at my skill and
+  success, I turned to retrace my way to my pony--and looked full
+  into the face of an Indian brave standing motionless in my path.
+  A breath--and two more braves evolved out of gray air, and the
+  three stood stock-still before me. Out of the tail of my eye, I
+  caught sight of a drawn bow on either side of me. I had learned
+  quickness with firearms years ago, but I knew that two swift
+  arrows would cut my life-line before the sound of my ready
+  revolver could break the stillness of the camp. Three pairs of
+  snaky black eyes looked steadily at me, and I stared back as
+  directly into them. Two arrow-points gently touched my ears.
+  Behind me, a tomahawk softly marked a ring around my scalp
+  outside of my hat. I was standing in a circle of death. At last
+  the brave directly before me slowly drew up his bow and pointed
+  it at me; then dropping it, he snapped the arrow shaft and threw
+  away the pieces. Pointing to my cocked revolver, he motioned to
+  me to drop it. At the same time the bows and tomahawks, of the
+  other warriors were thrown down. It was a silent game, and in
+  spite of the danger I smiled as I put down my firearms.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Can't any of you talk?" I asked. "If you are friendly, why don't
+  you say so?"<br>
+  <br>
+  The men did not speak, but by a gesture toward the tallest
+  tepee--the chief's, I supposed--I understood that he alone would
+  talk to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, bring him out." I surprised myself at my boldness. Yet no
+  man knows in just what spirit he will face a peril.<br>
+  <br>
+  One of the braves ran to the chief's tent, but the remaining five
+  left me no chance for escape. It was slowly growing lighter. I
+  thought of Jondo and his search at sunrise, and the moments
+  seemed like hours. Yet with marvelous swiftness and stillness a
+  score of Indians with their chief were mounted, and I, with my
+  pony in the center of a solid ring, was being hurried away,
+  alive, with friendly captors daubed with war-paint.<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a growing light in the east, while the west was still
+  dark. I thought of the earth as throwing back the gray shadowy
+  covers from its morning face and piling them about its feet; I
+  thought of some joke of Beverly's; and I wondered about one of
+  the oxen that had seemed sick in the evening. I tried to think of
+  nothing and a thousand things came into my mind. But of life and
+  death and love and suffering, I thought not at all.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime, Jondo waited anxiously for my coming. Rex and Beverly
+  had gone to sleep at the end of their watch and nobody else in
+  camp knew of my going. At dawn a breeze began to swing in from
+  the north, and with its refreshing touch the weariness and
+  worries of yesterday were swept away. Everybody wakened in a good
+  humor. But Jondo had not slept, and his face was sterner than
+  ever as the duties of the day began.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before sunrise I began to be missed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where's Gail?" Bill Banney was the first to ask.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's Clarenden's job, not mine," another of the bull-whackers
+  resented a command of Jondo's.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail! Gail! Anybody on earth seen Gail Clarenden this morning?"
+  came from a far corner of the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Have you lost a man, Jondo?" Smith, still sick in his wagon,
+  inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  And the sun was filling the eastern horizon with a roseate glow.
+  It would be above the edge of the plains in a little while, and
+  still I had not returned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Breakfast followed, with many questions for the absent one. There
+  was an eagerness to be off early and an uneasiness began to
+  pervade the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo, you'll have to dig up Gail now. I saw him putting out
+  northwest about one o'clock," Rex Krane said, aside to the train
+  captain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If he isn't here in ten minutes. I'll have to start out after
+  him," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ten minutes are long to one who waits. The boys were ready for
+  the camp order. "Catch up!" to start the harnessing of teams. But
+  it was not given. The sun's level rays, hot and yellow, smote the
+  camp, and a low murmur ran from wagon to wagon. Jondo waited a
+  minute longer, then he climbed to the wagon tongue at the head of
+  the ellipse of vehicles, his commanding form outlined against the
+  open space, his fine face illumined by the sunlight.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Boys, listen to me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Men listened when Jondo spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I believe we are in danger, but you have doubted my word. I
+  leave the days to prove who is right. At midnight I sent Gail
+  Clarenden to find out what is beyond that ridge--a band of men
+  running parallel with us that shadows us day by day. If he is not
+  here in ten minutes, we must go after him."<br>
+  <br>
+  A hush fell on the camp. The oxen switched at the first nipping
+  insects of the morning, and the ponies and mules, with that
+  horse-sense that all horsemen have observed in them at times,
+  stood as if waiting for a decision to be made.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden was first to speak.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If anybody goes after Gail, it's <i>me</i>, and I'll not stop
+  till I get him," he cried, all the brotherly love of a lifetime
+  in his ringing voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And me!" "And me!" "And me!" came from a dozen throats.
+  Plainsmen were always the truest of comrades in the hour of
+  danger. Nobody questioned Jondo's wisdom now. All thought was for
+  the missing man.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane had leaped up on the wagon next to Jondo's and stood
+  gazing toward the northwest. At this outburst of eagerness he
+  turned to the crowd in the corral.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You wait five minutes and Gail will be here. He's gettin' into
+  sight out yonder now," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Another shout, a rush for the open, and a straining of eyes to
+  make sure of the lone rider coming swiftly down the trail I had
+  followed out at midnight. And amid a wild swinging of hats and
+  whoops of joy I rode into camp, hugged by Beverly and questioned
+  by everybody, eager for my story from the time I left the camp
+  until I rode into it again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They took me to Pawnee Rock before they let me know anything,
+  except that my scalp would hang to the old chief's war-spear if I
+  tried one eye-wink to get away from them. But they let me keep my
+  gun, and I took it for a sign," I told the company. "They had a
+  lot of ceremony getting seated, and then, without any
+  smoking-tobacco or peace-pipe, they gave their message."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who said the Kiowas wasn't friendly? They already sent us word
+  enough," one man broke in.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's face, that had been bright and hopeful, now grew
+  grave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They said they mean us no harm. They were grateful to Uncle Sam
+  for the favors he had given them. That the prairies were wide,
+  and there was room for all of us on it," I continued. "In proof,
+  they said that we would pass that old rock to-day unharmed where
+  once they would have counted us their enemies. And they let me go
+  to bring you all this word. They are going northeast into the big
+  hunting-ground, and we are safe."<br>
+  <br>
+  No man could take defeat better than Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I am glad if I was wrong in my opinion," he said. "Fifteen years
+  on that trail have made me cautious. I shall still be cautious if
+  I am your captain. They did not smoke the peace-pipe. In my
+  judgment the Kiowas lied. Two or three days will prove it. Choose
+  now between me and my unchanged opinion, and some new train
+  captain."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, every man makes some bad guesses, Jondo. We'll keep you, of
+  course, and it's a joke on you, that's all." So ran the comment,
+  and we hurriedly broke camp and moved on.<br>
+  <br>
+  But with all of our captain's anxiety Pawnee Rock stood like a
+  protecting shield above us when we camped at its base, and the
+  long bright days that followed were full of a sense of security
+  and good cheer as we pulled away for the Cimarron crossing of the
+  Arkansas River, miles ahead.<br>
+  <br>
+  All day Jondo rode wide of the trail, sometimes on one side and
+  sometimes on the other, watching for signs of an enemy. And the
+  bluff, jovial crowd of bull-whackers laughed together at his
+  holding on to his opinion out of sheer stubbornness.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the second night he asked for a triple guard and nobody
+  grumbled, for everybody really liked the big plainsman and they
+  could afford to be good-natured with him, now that he was
+  unquestioningly in the wrong.<br>
+  <br>
+  The camp was in a little draw running down to the river, bordered
+  by a mere ripple of ground on either side, growing deeper as it
+  neared the stream and flattening out toward the level prairie in
+  its upper portion. In spite of the triple guard, Jondo did not
+  sleep that night; and, strangely enough, I, who had been dull to
+  fear in the hands of the Indians two nights before, felt nervous
+  and anxious, now when all seemed secure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just at daybreak a light shower with big bullet-like drops of
+  rain pattered down noisily on our camp and a sudden flash of
+  lightning and a thunderbolt startled the sleepy stock and brought
+  us to our feet, dazed for an instant. Another light volley of
+  rain, another sheet of lightning and roar of thunder, and the
+  cloud was gone, scattering down the Arkansas Valley. But in that
+  flash all of Jondo's cause for anxiety was justified. The
+  widening draw was full of Kiowas, hideous in war-paint, and the
+  ridges on either side of us were swarming with Indians beating
+  dried skins to frighten and stampede our stock, and all yelling
+  like fiends, while a perfect rain of arrows swept our camp. With
+  the river below us full of holes and quicksands, our enemies had
+  only to hold the natural defense on either side while they drove
+  us in a harrowing wedge back to the water. If our ponies and
+  mules should break from the corral they would rush for the river
+  or be lost in the widening space back from the deeper draw, where
+  a well-trained corps of thieves knew how to capture them. I had
+  estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two nights
+  before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
+  Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or
+  hell that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake,
+  with the foe four to one, man for man against us.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write
+  these words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning,
+  clear and strong above the awful din, for nature made him to
+  command in moments of peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one
+  force to guard the corral, one to seize and hold either bank and
+  one to charge on the advance of the Indians down the draw. We
+  were on the defensive, as our captain had planned we should be,
+  and every man of us realized bitterly now how much he had done
+  for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.<br>
+  <br>
+  On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And
+  the sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots
+  had sped home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid
+  plan of action against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds
+  and gods were with them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the
+  eastern sky was aflame, casting a lurid glare across the edges of
+  the draw as a stream of savages with painted faces and naked
+  bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral. In an instant the
+  chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and our mules
+  and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
+  they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the
+  entire battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by
+  arrows, tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they
+  had cleared the ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of
+  hoofs on the hard earth told how well the thing had been done and
+  how furiously our animals were being whirled away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a
+  dozen bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling
+  wide, we rode like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid
+  our precious property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad
+  burst of speed to save our own. We were gaining now, and turning
+  the cloud toward the river. Another spurt, and we would have them
+  checked, faced about, subdued. I saw the end, and as the boys
+  swung forward I urged them on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the river. To the river. Head 'em south!" I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Rex Krane, like a centaur, swirled by me to do the thing I
+  ordered. Behind me rode Beverly Clarenden bareheaded, his face
+  aglow with power. As I looked back the dust engulfed him for a
+  moment, and then I heard an arrow sing, and a sharp cry of pain.
+  The dust had lifted and Beverly and a huge Indian, the tallest I
+  have ever seen, were grappling together, a scalping-knife
+  gleaming in the morning light. I dashed forward and felled the
+  savage with the butt of my revolver. He leaped to his feet and
+  sprang at me just as Beverly, with unerring aim, sent a blaze of
+  fire between us. As the savage fell again, my cousin seized his
+  pony; and with an arrow still swinging to his arm, dashed into
+  the chase, and left it only when the stock, with the loss of less
+  than a fourth, was driven up the river's sandy bank and over the
+  swell into the camp inclosure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime, Jondo at the front of his men charged into the very
+  center of the savage battle-line as, furious for blood, they
+  threshed across the narrow draw--the disciplined arm and
+  courageous heart against a blood-thirsty foe. A charge, a falling
+  back, another surge to win the lost ground, a steady holding on
+  and sure advance, and then Jondo, with one triumphant shout of
+  victory, struck the last fierce blow that sent the Kiowas into
+  full flight toward the northwest, and the day was won.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out by the river, a sudden dullness seized me. I lifted my eyes
+  to see Beverly free and Rex directing the charge; cattle, mules,
+  and ponies turned back toward safety, and something crawling and
+  writhing about my feet; Jondo's great shout of victory far away,
+  it seemed, miles and miles to the north; a cloud of dust sweeping
+  toward me; the crimson east aflame like the Day of judgment; the
+  dust cloud rolling nearer; the yellow sands and slow-moving
+  waters of the Arkansas; and six silent stalwart Kiowa braves,
+  with snaky black eyes, looking steadily at me. Shadows, and the
+  dust cloud upon me. Then all was night. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XII" id="XII">XII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,<br>
+  But we do not fall on the neck, nor kiss when we come
+  together.<br>
+                                          --"A SONG OF THE
+  ENGLISH."<br></p>
+
+  <p>The whole thing was clear now, clear as the big white day that
+  suddenly beamed along the prairies, scattering the clouds into
+  gray strands against the upper heavens. The treachery of the
+  Kiowas had been cleverly executed. Word of their friendliness had
+  come to us through the Mexican caravan which could have no object
+  in deceiving us, since it was on its way to Kansas City to do
+  business with the Clarenden house there. And Jondo had sent a spy
+  by night into the Kiowa camp as if they were not to be trusted.
+  Yet they had taken no offense; but, letting me keep my firearms,
+  had led me into their council on the top of Pawnee Rock, where
+  they had told me in clear English that they had nothing but love
+  for the white brothers of the plains. And to prove it we should
+  pass unharmed along the trail where once we had wronged them by
+  stealing their captive. The prairies were wide enough for all of
+  us and they had forgotten--as an Indian always forgets--all
+  malice against us. They had sent me back to camp with greetings
+  to my captain, and had gone on their way to the heart of the
+  Grand Prairie in the northeast.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was only Jondo, as he rode wide of the trail for two days, who
+  could see any mark of an Indian's track. And we had not believed
+  Jondo. We never made that mistake again: But trust in his
+  shrewdness now, however, would not bring back the oxen lost and
+  the mules and ponies captured by the thieving band of Dog
+  Indians. But there was a greater loss than these. The Kiowas had
+  come for revenge. It was blood, not plunder, they wanted. A dozen
+  men with arrow wounds reported at roll call, and six men lay
+  stark dead under the pitiless sky. Among them Davis of the St.
+  Louis train, who had been too ill to take part in the struggle.
+  One more loss was there to report, but it was not discovered
+  until later.<br>
+  <br>
+  Indians seldom leave their dead on the field of battle, but the
+  blood-stained sod beside their fallen ponies told a story of
+  heavy toll. Blood marked the trail of hoofprints to the northwest
+  in their wild rout thither. One comrade they had missed in their
+  flight. He lay down near the river where the ground had been
+  threshed over by the stampeded stock. He must have been a giant
+  in life, for his was the longest grave made in the prairie sod
+  that day. At the river's edge the sands were pricked with
+  hoofprints, where the struggle to carry away the dead seemed to
+  have reached clear into the thin yellow current of the Arkansas,
+  although no trail led out on the far side of the stream.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's the very copper cuss with yellow trimmings who had me
+  down when that arrow stopped me," Beverly exclaimed. "He was
+  seven feet tall and streaked with yellow just that way. I thought
+  ten million rattlesnakes and eight billion polecats had hit me.
+  His club was awful. Then I caught sight of old Gail's face in the
+  dust-storm, coming back to help me. He gave the Indian one dose
+  and got one back, a good hard bill, and then the dust closed in
+  and Gail was off again to the northwest out there, like a
+  hurricane. I could hear him a mile away. Couldn't I Gail? Where
+  is Gail?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Where?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, back there with the stock!"<br>
+  <br>
+  No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Out there looking over the draw for things that's got all
+  scattered."<br>
+  <br>
+  No? Not there?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, he's getting breakfast. And we are all hungry enough to eat
+  raw Kiowas now."<br>
+  <br>
+  No? No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail would be helping the wounded, anyhow, or straightening out
+  dead men's limbs. Poor fellows--to lose six! It's awful!"<br>
+  <br>
+  No? No? No?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bathing in the river? Where? Over there across the
+  sand-bar?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Nowhere! Nowhere!<br>
+  <br>
+  "By the eternal God, they've got him!" Jondo's agonized voice
+  rang through the camp.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We can take care of the wounded, and those fellows lying over
+  there don't need us. But, oh, Gail! They'll torture him to
+  death!" Rex Krane's voice choked and he ground his teeth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, my Gail!" Beverly sat down white and desparingly
+  calm--Beverly, whose up-bubbling spirits nobody could
+  repress.<br>
+  <br>
+  The others wrung their hands and cursed and groaned aloud. Only
+  Bill Banney, the unimaginative and stern-hearted, stood
+  motionless with set jaws and black-frowning brows. Bill, whom the
+  plains had made hard and unfeeling.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We won't give up Gail, will we, Bill?" Jondo spoke sternly, but
+  his face--they said his face was bright with courage and that his
+  eyes shone with the inspiration of his will. In all that crowd of
+  eager, faithful men, he turned now to Bill Banney. Every man had
+  his place on the plains, and Jondo out of the chrism of his own
+  life-struggle knew that Bill was bearing a cross in silence, and
+  that his was the martyr spirit that finds salvation only in
+  deeds. Bill was the man for the place.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so while straying animals were slowly recovered, while the
+  camp was set in order, while the dead were laid with simple
+  reverence in un-coffined graves, and the sick were crudely
+  ministered to, while Beverly grew feverish and his arrow wound
+  became a festering sore, and Rex Krane, master of the company,
+  cared for every thing and everybody with that big mother-heart of
+  his--Jondo and Bill Banney pushed alone across the desolate
+  plains toward where the Smoky Hills wrapped in their dim
+  gray-blue mist mark the low watershed that rims the western
+  valley of the Kaw.<br>
+  <br>
+  They went alone because skill, and not numbers, could save a
+  captive from the hands of the Kiowas, and the sight of a force
+  would mean death to the victim before he could be rescued.<br>
+  <br>
+  A splash of water against a hot hand hanging down; a sense of
+  light, of motion; a glimpse of coarse sands and thin straggling
+  weeds beside the edge of the stream down which the pathway ran; a
+  sharp aching at the base of the brain; an agony of strained
+  muscles--thus slowly I came to my senses, to memory, to the
+  knowledge that I was bound hand and foot to a pony's back; that
+  the sun was hot, and the sands were hotter, and the glare on the
+  waters blinding; that every splash of the pony's hoofs sent up
+  glittering sparkles that stabbed my aching eyes like white-hot
+  dagger-points; that the black and clotted dirt on the pony's
+  shoulder was not mud, but blood; that before and behind were
+  other splashing feet, all hiding the trail in the thin current of
+  the wide old Arkansas; that the quick turns to follow the water
+  and the need for speed gave no consideration to the helpless
+  rider. The image of six pairs of snaky black eyes came to help
+  the benumbed brain, and I knew with whom I was again captive. But
+  there was no question about the friendly motive now, for there
+  was no friendly motive now. And as we pushed on east, Jondo and
+  Bill Banney were hurrying toward the northwest, and the space
+  between us widened every minute. A wave of helplessness and
+  despair swept over me; then a wild up-leaping prayer for
+  deliverance to a far-away unpitying Heaven; a sudden sense of the
+  futility of prayer in a land the Lord had forgotten; and then
+  anger, hot and wholesome, and an unconquered, dominant will to
+  gain freedom or to die game, swept every other feeling away,
+  marvelously mastering the sense of pain that had ground
+  mercilessly at every nerve. Then came that small voice which a
+  man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the
+  blare of daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who
+  notes the sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death,
+  slow-lingering, inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely
+  plain. The glare on the waters softened. The heat fell away. The
+  despair and agony lifted. In all the world--my world--there was
+  only one, God; not a far, unpitying, book-made Lord beyond the
+  height of the glaring blue dome above me. God beside me on, the
+  yellow waters of the Arkansas. His hand in my hot hand! His
+  strength about me, invisible, unbreakable, infinite. When a man
+  enters into that shielding Presence, nothing else matters.<br>
+  <br>
+  I do not know how many miles we went down-stream, leaving no
+  trail in the shallow water or along its hard-baked edges. But by
+  the time we dropped that line I had begun to think coherently and
+  to take note of everything possible to me, bound as I was, face
+  downward, on the pony's back. It was when we had left the river
+  that the hard riding began, and a merciful unconsciousness,
+  against which I fought, softened some stretches of that long
+  day's journey. We crossed the Santa F&eacute; Trail and were
+  pushing eastward out of sight of it to the north. No stop, no
+  word, nothing but ride, ride, ride. Truly, I needed the Presence
+  that went with me on the way.<br>
+  <br>
+  At sunset we stopped, and I was taken from my pony and thrown to
+  the ground. I managed, in spite of my bonds, to sit up and look
+  about me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were on the top of Pawnee Rock. The heat of the day was spent
+  and all the radiant tints of evening were making the silent
+  prairies unspeakably beautiful. I do not know why I should have
+  noted or remembered any of this, save that the mind sometimes
+  gathers impressions under strange stress of suffering. I had had
+  no food all day, and when our ponies stopped to drink, the agony
+  of thirst was maddening. My tongue was swollen and my lips were
+  cracked and bleeding. The leather thongs that bound me cut deep
+  now. But--only the men who lived it can know what all this meant
+  to the pioneer of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have sat on the same spot at sunset many a time in these my
+  sunset years; have gazed in tranquil joy at the whole panorama of
+  the heavens that hang over the prairies in the opalescent
+  splendor of the after-sunset hour; have looked out over the
+  earthly paradise of waving grain, all glowing with the golden
+  gleam of harvest, in the heart of the rich Kansas
+  wheat-lands--and somehow I'm glad of soul that I foreran this day
+  and--maybe--maybe I, too, helped somewhat to build the way--the
+  way that Esmond Clarenden had helped to clear a decade before and
+  was building then.<br>
+  <br>
+  The six Indians gathered near me. One of them with unmerciful
+  mercy loosened my bonds a trifle and gave me a sup of water. They
+  did not want me to die too soon. Then they sat down to eat and
+  drink. I did not shut my eyes, nor turn my head. I defied their
+  power to crush me, and the very defiance gave me strength.<br>
+  <br>
+  The chill air of evening blew about the brow of the rock, the
+  twilight deepened, and down in the valley the shadows were
+  beginning to hide the landscape. But the evening hour is long on
+  the headlands. And there was ample time for another kind of
+  council than that to which I had listened three mornings ago,
+  when I had been set free to bear a friendly message to my
+  chief.<br>
+  <br>
+  They carried me--helpless in their hands--to where, unseen
+  myself, and secured by rock fragment and rawhide thong, I could
+  see far up the trail to the eastward. But I could give no signal
+  of distress, save for the feeble call of my swollen,
+  thirst-parched throat. Then the six bronze sons of the plains sat
+  down before me, and looked at me. Looked! I never see a pair of
+  beady black eyes to-day--and there are many such--that I do not
+  long to kill somebody, so vivid yet is the memory of those
+  murdering eyes looking at me.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last they spoke--plains English, it is true--but clear to give
+  their meaning.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Chief Clarenden thinks Kiowas forget. He comes with little train
+  across the prairies; Kiowas go to meet big train east and fight
+  fair for Mexican brothers who hate Chief Clarenden. They do not
+  stop to look for little sneaking coyotes when they seek big game.
+  Clarenden steals away Kiowas' captive Hopi. Cheat Kiowas of big
+  pay that white Medicine-man Josef would give for her. Mexican
+  brothers and Kiowa tribe hate Clarenden. They take his son,
+  <i>you</i>, to show Clarenden they can steal, too. Hopi girl!
+  white brave! all the same."<br>
+  <br>
+  The speaker's words came deliberately, and he gave a contemptuous
+  wave of the hand as he closed. And the six sat silent for a time.
+  Then another voice broke the stillness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder is your trail. Chief Clarenden and big white chiefs go by
+  to Santa F&eacute; to buy and sell and grow rich. Indian sell
+  captives to grow rich! No! White chief not let Indians buy and
+  sell. But we do not kill white dogs. We leave you here to watch
+  the trail for wagon-trains. They may not come soon. They may not
+  see you nor hear you. You can see them pass on their way to get
+  rich. You can watch them. Hopi girl would have brought us big
+  money. We get no richer. Watch white men go get rich. You may
+  watch many days till sun dries your eyes. Nothing trouble you
+  here. Watch the trail. No wild animal come here. No water drown
+  you here. No fine meat make you ache with eating here.
+  Watch."<br>
+  <br>
+  The six looked long at me, and as the light faded their black
+  eyes and dark faces seemed like the glittering eyes and hooked
+  bills of six great dark birds of prey.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the last sunset glow was in the west the six rose up and
+  walked backward, still looking at me, until they passed my range
+  of vision and I could only feel their eyes upon me. Then I heard
+  the clatter of ponies' feet on the hard rock, the fainter stroke
+  on the thin, sandy soil, the thud on the thickening sod. Thump,
+  thump, thump, farther and farther and farther away. The west grew
+  scarlet, deepened to purple and melted at last into the dull gray
+  twilight that foreruns the darkness of night. One ray of pale
+  gold shimmered far along toward the zenith and lost itself in the
+  upper heavens, and the stars came forth in the blue-black eastern
+  sky. And I was alone with the Presence whose arm is never
+  shortened and whose ear grows never heavy.<br>
+  <br>
+  The trail to the east was only a dull line along the darker
+  earth. I looked up at the myriad stars coming swiftly out of
+  space to greet me. The starlit sky above the open prairie speaks
+  the voice of the Infinite in a grandeur never matched on land or
+  sea.<br>
+  <br>
+  I thought of Little Blue Flower on that dim-lighted dawning when
+  she had showed us her bleeding hands and lashed shoulders. And
+  again I heard Beverly's boyish voice ring out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's take her and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  And then I was beside the glistening waters of the Flat Rock, and
+  Little Blue Flower was there in her white Grecian robe and the
+  wrought-silver headband with coral pendants. And Eloise. The
+  golden hair, the soft dark eyes, the dainty peach-bloom cheek.
+  Eloise whom I had loved always and always. Eloise who loved
+  Beverly--good, big-hearted, sunny-faced Beverly, who never had
+  visions. Any girl would love him. Most of all, Little Blue
+  Flower. What a loving message she had left us in the one word,
+  <i>Lolomi</i>. God pity her.<br>
+  <br>
+  A thousand sharp pains racked my body. I tried to move. I longed
+  for water. Then a merciful darkness fell upon me--not sleep, but
+  unconsciousness. And the stars watched over me through that black
+  night, lying there half dead and utterly alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out to the northwest Jondo and Bill Banney rode long on the trail
+  of the fleeing Kiowas. A picture for an artist of the West, these
+  two rough men in the garb and mount and trappings of the
+  plainsman, with eyes alert and strong faces, riding only as men
+  can ride who go to save a life more eagerly than they would save
+  their own. Not in rash haste, but with unchecked speed, losing no
+  mark along the trail that should guide them more quickly to their
+  goal, so they passed side by side, and neither said a word for
+  hours along the way. Night came, and the needs of their ponies
+  made them pause briefly. The trail, too, was harder to follow
+  now. They might lose it in the darkness and so lose time. And
+  those two men were going forth to victory. Not for one single
+  heart-beat did they doubt their power to win, and the stead-fast
+  assurance made them calm.<br>
+  <br>
+  Daylight again, and a fresher trail made them hurry on. They
+  drank at every stream and ate a snatch of food as they rode. They
+  reached the hurriedly quitted Kiowa camp, and searched for the
+  sign of vengeance on a captive there. Jondo knew those signs, and
+  his heart beat high with hope.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They haven't done it yet," he said to his companion. "They want
+  to get away first. We are safe for a day."<br>
+  <br>
+  And they rode swiftly on again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's trouble here," Bill Banney declared as he watched the
+  ground. "Too many feet. Could it be here?"<br>
+  <br>
+  His voice was hardly audible. The two men halted and read the
+  ground with piercing eyes. Something had happened, for there had
+  been a circling and chasing in and out, and the sod was cut deep
+  with hoofprints.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No council nor ceremony, no open space for anything." Jondo
+  would not even speak the word he was bound not to know.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They've divided, Jondo. Here goes the big crowd, and there a
+  smaller one," Bill declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There were a lot of Dog Indians along for thieving. They've
+  split here. Seem to have fussed a bit over it, too. And yonder
+  runs the Kiowa trail to the north. Here go the Dogs east." Jondo
+  replied. "We'll follow the Kiowas a spell," he added, after a
+  thoughtful pause.<br>
+  <br>
+  And again they were off. It was nearing noon now, and the trail
+  was fresher every minute. At last the plainsmen climbed a low
+  swell, halting out of sight on the hither side. Then creeping to
+  the crest, they looked down on the Indian camp lying in a little
+  dry valley of a lost stream whose course ran underground beneath
+  them.<br>
+  <br>
+  Lying flat on the ground, each with his head behind a low bush on
+  the top of the swell, the men read the valley with searching
+  eyes. Then Jondo, with Bill at his heels, slid swiftly down the
+  slope.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail Clarenden isn't there. We must take the trail east, and
+  ride hard," he said, in a hoarse voice.<br>
+  <br>
+  And they rode hard until they were beyond the range of the Kiowa
+  outposts.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What's your game, Jondo?" Bill asked, at length.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's
+  lost somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't
+  quite understand, but we'll go on."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the
+  hardship of the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected
+  him to give up. The sun blazed down in the heat of the late
+  afternoon, and the baking earth lay brown and dry beneath the
+  heat-quivering air. There was no sound nor motion on the plains
+  as the two faithful brothers--in purpose--followed hard on the
+  track of the Dog Indian band.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of
+  their chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far
+  ahead. Jondo and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover
+  was in sight, but if the Indians were unsuspicious they might not
+  be discovered. On went the outlaw band, and the two white men
+  followed after. Suddenly the Indians halted and grouped
+  themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly for the cause.
+  Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into view. They,
+  too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two dull,
+  motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
+  White men didn't belong there.<br>
+  <br>
+  The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing
+  eastward. Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band
+  spurted east as rapidly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked at Bill.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he
+  cried, triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs
+  out yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils
+  getting him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the
+  six. They have left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting
+  back to join the tribe. They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll
+  run down this trail to the south. Hurry, Bill! For God's sake,
+  hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't see us back here."<br>
+  <br>
+  That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same
+  clear sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green
+  prairies; but it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and
+  choking with thirst through the awful lengths of that summer day.
+  Fitful unconsciousness, with fever and delirium, seeing mocking
+  faces with snaky black eyes, looking long at me; food almost
+  touching my lips, and floods of crystal waters everywhere just
+  out of reach. I was on the bluff above the river at Fort
+  Leavenworth again, watching for the fish on the sand-bars. They
+  were Indians instead of fish, and they laughed at me and called
+  me a big brown bob-cat. Then Mother Bridget and Aunty Boone would
+  have come to me if I could only make them hear me. But the sun
+  beat hot upon my burning face, and my swollen lips refused to
+  moan.<br>
+  <br>
+  And then I looked to the eastward and hope sprang to life within
+  me. A wagon-train was crawling slowly toward Pawnee Rock. Tears
+  drenched my eyes until I could hardly count the wagons--twenty,
+  thirty, forty. It must be far in the afternoon now, and they
+  might encamp here. But they seemed to be hurrying. I could not
+  see for pain, but I knew they were near the headland now. I could
+  hear the rattle of the wagon-chains and the tramp of feet and
+  shouts of the bull-whackers. I tugged masterfully at my bonds. It
+  was a useless effort. I tried to shout, but only low moans came
+  forth from my parched lips. I strove and raged and prayed. The
+  wagons hurried on and on, a long time, for there were many of
+  them. Then the rattling grew fainter, the voices were far off,
+  the thud of hoof-beats ceased. The train had passed the Rock,
+  never dreaming that a man lay dying in sight of the succor they
+  would so gladly have given.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sun began to strike in level rays across the land, and the
+  air was cooler, but I gave no heed to things about me. Death was
+  waiting--slow, taunting death. The stars would be kind again
+  to-night as they had been last night, but death crouching between
+  me and the starlight, was slowly crawling up Pawnee Rock. Oh, so
+  slowly, yet so surely creeping on. The sun was gone and a tender
+  pink illumined the sky. The light was soft now. If death would
+  only steal in before the glare burst forth. I forgot that night
+  must come first. Pity, God of heaven, pity me!<br>
+  <br>
+  And then the Presence came, and a sweet, low voice--I hear it
+  still sometimes, when sunsets soften to twilight, "<i>My presence
+  shall go with thee</i>, <i>and I will give thee rest</i>." I felt
+  a thrill of triumph pulse through my being. Unconquered, strong,
+  and glad is he who trusts.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I shall not die. I shall live, and in God's good time I shall be
+  saved." I tried to speak the words, but I could not hear my
+  voice. My pains were gone and I lay staring at the evening sky
+  all mother-of-pearl and gold above my head. And on my lips a
+  smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  And so they found me at twilight, as a tired child about to fall
+  asleep. They did not cry out, nor fall on my neck, nor weep. But
+  Bill Banney's strong arms carried me tenderly away. Water, food,
+  unbound swollen limbs, bathed in the warm Arkansas flow, soft
+  grass for a bed, and the eyes of the big plainsman, my childhood
+  idol, gentle as a girl's, looking unutterable things into my
+  eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  I've never known a mother's love, but for that loss the Lord gave
+  me--Jondo. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII">XIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be<br>
+  The dearest bond between my heart and thee.<br>
+                              --ALL THE YEAR ROUND.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  When we reached the end of the trail and entered a second time
+  into Santa F&eacute; the Stars and Stripes were floating lazily
+  above the Palace of the Governors. Out on the heights beyond the
+  old Spanish prison stood Fort Marcy, whose battlements told of a
+  military might, strong to control what by its strength it had
+  secured. In its shadow was La Garita, of old the place of
+  execution, against whose blind wall many a prisoner had started
+  on the long trail at the word of a Spanish bullet, La Garita
+  changed now from a thing of legalized horror to a landmark of
+  history.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the city itself seemed unchanged, and there was little
+  evidence that Yankee thrift and energy had entered New Mexico
+  with the new government. The narrow street still marked the
+  trail's end before the Exchange Hotel. San Miguel, with its dun
+  walls and triple-towered steeple, still good guard over the soul
+  of Santa F&eacute;, as it had stood for three sunny centuries.
+  The Mexican still drove down the loaded burro-train of firewood
+  from the mountains. The Indian basked in the sunny corners of the
+  Plaza. The adobe dwellings clustered blindly along little lanes
+  leading out to nowhere in particular. The orchards and
+  cornfields, primitively cultivated, made tiny oases beside the
+  trickling streams and sandy beds of dry arroyos. The sheep grazed
+  on the scant grasses of the plain. The steep gray mesa slopes
+  were splotched with clumps of evergreen shrubs and pi&ntilde;on
+  trees. And over all the silent mountains kept watch.<br>
+  <br>
+  The business house of Felix Narveo, however, did not share in
+  this lethargy. The streets about the Plaza were full of Conestoga
+  wagons, with tired ox-teams lying yoked or unyoked before them.
+  Most of the traffic borne in by these came directly or indirectly
+  to the house of Narveo. And its proprietor, the same silent,
+  alert man, had taken advantage of a less restricted government,
+  following the Mexican War, to increase his interests. So mine and
+  meadow, flock and herd, trappers' snare and Indian loom and
+  forge, all poured their treasures into his hands--a
+  clearing-house for the products of New Mexico to swell the great
+  overland commerce that followed the Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  For all of which the ground plan had been laid mainly by Esmond
+  Clarenden, when with tremendous daring he came to Santa F&eacute;
+  and spied out the land for these years to follow.<br>
+  <br>
+  A boy's memory is keen, and all the hours of that other journey
+  hither, with their eager anticipation and youthful curiosity, and
+  love of surprise and adventure, came back to Beverly Clarenden
+  and me as we pulled along the last lap of the trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Was it really so long ago, Bev, that we came in here, all eyes
+  and ears?" I asked my cousin.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No, it was last evening. And not an eyebrow in this Rip Van
+  Winkle town has lifted since," Beverly replied. "Yonder stands
+  that old church where the gallant knight on a stiff-legged pony
+  spied Little Lees and knocked the head off of that tormenting
+  Marcos villain, and kicked it under the door-step. Say, Gail, I'd
+  like mighty well to see the grown-up Little Lees, wouldn't you?
+  And I'd as soon this was Saint Louis as Santa F&eacute;."<br>
+  <br>
+  Since the night of Mat's wedding, I had been resolutely putting
+  away all thought of Eloise St. Vrain. I belonged to the plains.
+  All my training had been for this. I thought I was very old and
+  settled now. But the mention of her pet name sent a thrill
+  through me; and these streets of Santa F&eacute; brought back a
+  flood of memories and boyhood dreams and visions.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, how many auld-lang-syners do you reckon we'll meet in this
+  land of sunshine and <i>chilly</i> beans?" I asked,
+  carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, how many of them do you remember, Mr. Cyclopedia of
+  Prominent Men and Pretty Women?" Beverly inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, there was Felix Narveo and Father Josef--and Little Blue
+  Flower"--A shadow flitted across my cousin's face for a moment,
+  leaving it sunny as ever again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And there was that black-eyed Marcos boy everywhere, and
+  Ferdinand Ramero whom we were warned to step wide of," I went
+  on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, that tall thin man with blue-glass eyes that cut your
+  fingers when he looked at you. Maybe he went out the back door of
+  New Mexico when General Kearny peeped in at the front transom.
+  There wasn't any fight in that man."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo says he is still in Santa F&eacute;." Just as I spoke an
+  Indian swept by us, riding with the ease of that
+  born-to-the-horseback race.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly, do you remember that Indian boy that we saw out at Agua
+  Fria?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The day we found Little Lees asleep in the church?" Beverly
+  broke in, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  In our whole journey he had hardly spoken of Eloise, and, knowing
+  Beverly as I did, I had felt sure for that reason that she had
+  not been on his mind. Now twice in five minutes he had called her
+  name. But why should he not remember her here, as well as I?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I remember there was an Indian boy, sort of sneaky like,
+  and deaf and dumb, that followed us until I turned and stared him
+  out of it. That's the way to get rid of 'em, Gail, same as a
+  savage dog," Beverly said, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What if there are six of them all staring at you?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Gail, for the Lord's sake forget that!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly cried, affectionately. "When you've got an arrow wound
+  rotting your arm off and six hundred and twenty degrees of fever
+  in your blood, and the son of your old age is gone for three days
+  and nights, and you don't dare to think where, you'll know why a
+  fellow doesn't want to remember." There were real tears in the
+  boy's eyes. Beverly was deeper than I had thought.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, to change gradually, I wonder if that centaur who just
+  passed us might be that same Indian of Agua Fria of long
+  ago."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He couldn't be," Beverly declared, confidently. "That boy got
+  one square look at my eagle eye and he never stopped running till
+  he jumped into the Pacific Ocean. 'I shall see him again over
+  there.'" Half chanting the last words, Beverly, boy-hearted and
+  daring and happy, cracked his whip, and our mule-team began to
+  prance off in mule style the journey's latter end.<br>
+  <br>
+  Oh, Beverly! Beverly! Why did that day on the parade-ground at
+  Fort Leavenworth and a boy's pleading face lifted to mine, come
+  back to me at that moment? Strange are the lines of life. I shall
+  never clearly read them all.<br>
+  <br>
+  Down in the Plaza a tall, slender young man was sitting in the
+  shade, idly digging at the sod with an open pocket-knife. There
+  was something magnetic about him, the presence that even in a
+  crowd demands a second look.<br>
+  <br>
+  He was dressed in spotless white linen, and with his handsome
+  mustache, his well-groomed black hair, and sparkling black eyes,
+  he was a true type of the leisure son of the Spanish-Mexican
+  grandee. He stared at our travel-stained caravan as it rolled
+  down the Plaza's edge, but his careless smile changed to an
+  insolent grin, showing all his perfect teeth as he caught sight
+  of Beverly and me.<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid no claims to manly beauty, but we were stalwart young
+  fellows, with the easy strength of good health, good habits,
+  clear conscience, and the frank faces of boys reared on the
+  frontier, and accustomed to its dangers by men who defied the
+  very devil to do them harm. But even in our best clothes, saved
+  for the display at the end of the trail, we were uncouth compared
+  to this young gentleman, and our tanned faces and hard brown
+  hands bespoke the rough bull-whacker of the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  As our train halted, the young man lighted a cigar and puffed the
+  smoke toward us, as if to ignore our presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Its mamma has dressed it up to go and play in the park, but it
+  mustn't speak to little boys, nor soil its pinafore, nor listen
+  to any naughty words. And it couldn't hold its own against a
+  kitten. Nice little clothes-horse to hang white goods on!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly had turned his back to the Plaza and was speaking in a
+  low tone, with the serious face and far-away air of one who
+  referred to a thing of the past.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, you are a mind-reader, a character-sketcher--" I began, but
+  stopped short to stare into the Plaza beyond him.<br>
+  <br>
+  The young man had sprung to his feet and stood there with
+  flashing eyes and hands clenched. Behind him was the same young
+  Indian who had passed us on the trail. He was lithe, with every
+  muscle trained to strength and swiftness and endurance.<br>
+  <br>
+  He had muttered a word into the young white man's ear that made
+  him spring up. And while the face of the Indian was
+  expressionless, the other's face was full of surprise and anger;
+  and I recognized both faces in an instant.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, there are two auld-lang-syners behind you
+  right now. One is Marcos Ramero, and the other is Santan of
+  Bent's Fort," I said, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly turned quickly, something in his fearless face making the
+  two men drop their eyes. When we looked again they had left the
+  Plaza by different ways.<br>
+  <br>
+  After dinner that evening Jondo and Bill Banney hurried away for
+  a business conference with Felix Narveo. Rex and Beverly also
+  disappeared and I was alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  The last clear light of a long summer day was lingering over the
+  valley of the Rio Grande, and the cool evening breeze was
+  rippling in from the mountains, when I started out along the
+  narrow street that made the terminal of the old Santa F&eacute;
+  Trail. I was hardly conscious of any purpose of direction until I
+  came to the half-dry Santa F&eacute; River and saw the spire of
+  San Miguel beyond it. In a moment the same sense of loss and
+  longing swept over me that I had fought with on the night after
+  Mat's wedding, when I sat on the bluff and stared at the waters
+  of the Kaw flowing down to meet the Missouri. And then I
+  remembered what Father Josef had said long ago out by the sandy
+  arroyo:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Among friends or enemies, the one haven of safety always is the
+  holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  I felt the strong need for a haven from myself as I crossed the
+  stream and followed the trail up to the doorway of San
+  Miguel.<br>
+  <br>
+  The shadows were growing long, few sounds broke the stillness of
+  the hour, and the spirit of peace brooded in the soft light and
+  sweet air. I had almost reached the church when I stopped
+  suddenly, stunned by what I saw. Two people were strolling up the
+  narrow, crooked street that wanders eastward beside the
+  building--a tall, slender young man in white linen clothes and a
+  girl in a soft creamy gown, with a crimson scarf draped about her
+  shoulders. They were both bareheaded, and the man's heavy black
+  hair and curling black mustache, and the girl's coronal of golden
+  braids and the profile of her fair face left no doubt about the
+  two. It was Marcos Ramero and Eloise St. Vrain. They were talking
+  earnestly; and in a very lover-like manner the young man bent
+  down to catch his companion's words.<br>
+  <br>
+  Something seemed to snap asunder in my brain, and from that
+  moment I knew myself; knew how futile is the belief that miles of
+  prairie trail and strength of busy days can ever cast down and
+  break an idol of the heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  In a minute they had passed a turn in the street, and there was
+  only sandy earth and dust-colored walls and a yellow glare above
+  them, where a moment ago had been a shimmer of sunset's gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The one haven of safety always is the holy sanctuary."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's words sounded in my ears, and the face of old San
+  Miguel seemed to wear a welcoming smile. I stepped into the deep
+  doorway and stood there, aimless and unthinking, looking out
+  toward where the Jemez Mountains were outlined against the
+  southwest horizon. Presently I caught the sound of feet, and
+  Marcos Ramero strode out of the narrow street and followed the
+  trail into the heart of the city.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared after him, noting the graceful carriage, the
+  well-fitting clothes, and the proud set of the handsome head.
+  There was no doubt about him. Did he hold the heart of the
+  golden-haired girl who had walked into my life to stay? As he
+  passed out of my sight Eloise St. Vrain came swiftly around the
+  corner of the street to the church door, and stopped before me in
+  wide-eyed amazement. Eloise, with her clinging creamy draperies,
+  and the vivid red of her silken scarf, and her glorious hair.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Gail Clarenden, is it really you?" she cried, stretching out
+  both hands toward me with a glad light in her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Little Lees, it is I."<br>
+  <br>
+  I took both of her hands in mine. They were soft and white, and
+  mine were brown and horny, but their touch sent a thrill of joy
+  through me. She clung tightly to my hands for an instant. Then a
+  deeper pink swept her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes and
+  stepped back.<br>
+  <br>
+  "They told me you were--lost--on the way; that some Kiowas had
+  killed you."<br>
+  <br>
+  She lifted her face again, and heaven had not anything better for
+  me than the depths of those big dark eyes looking into mine.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who told you, Eloise?"<br>
+  <br>
+  The girl looked over her shoulder apprehensively, and lowered her
+  voice as she replied:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Marcos Ramero."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's a liar. I am awfully alive, and Marcos Ramero knows I am,
+  for he saw me and recognized me down in the Plaza this
+  afternoon," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then the church door opened and a girl in Mexican dress came
+  out. I did not see her face, nor notice which way she took, for a
+  priest following her stepped between us. It was Father Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  "My children, come inside. The holy sanctuary offers you a better
+  shelter than the open street."<br>
+  <br>
+  I shall never forget that voice, nor hear another like it.
+  Inside, the candles were burning dimly at the altar. The last
+  rays of daylight came through the high south windows, touching
+  the carved old rafters and gray adobe with a red glow. Long ago
+  human hands, for lack of trowels, had laid that adobe surface on
+  the rough stone--hands whose imprint is graven still on those
+  crudely dented walls.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down on a low seat inside of the doorway, and Father Josef
+  passed up the aisle to the altar, leaving us there alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, Marcos Ramero is your friend, and I beg your pardon for
+  speaking of him as I did."<br>
+  <br>
+  I resented with all my soul the thought of this girl caring for
+  the son of the man who in some infamous way had wronged Jondo,
+  but I had no right to be rude about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, may I say something to you?" The voice was as a pleading
+  call and the girl's farce was full of pathos.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on, Little Lees," was all that I could venture to
+  answer.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you remember the day you came in here and threw Marcos Ramero
+  out of that door?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Would you do it again, if it were necessary? I mean--if--" the
+  voice faltered.<br>
+  <br>
+  I had heard the same pleading tone on the night of Mat's wedding
+  when Eloise and Beverly were in the little side porch together. I
+  looked up at the red light on the old church rafters and the
+  rough gray walls. How like to those hand-marked walls our
+  memories are, deep-dented by the words they hold forever! Then I
+  looked down at the girl beside me and I forgot everything else.
+  Her golden hair, her creamy-white dress, and that rich crimson
+  scarf draped about her shoulders and falling across her knees
+  would have made a Madonna's model that old Giovanni Cimabue
+  himself would have joyed to copy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is it likely to be necessary? Be fair with me, Eloise. I saw you
+  two strolling up that little goat-run of a street out there just
+  now. Judging from the back of his head, Marcos looked satisfied.
+  I shouldn't want to interfere nor make you any trouble," I said,
+  earnestly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is I who should not make you any trouble, but, oh, Gail, I
+  came here this evening because I was afraid and I didn't know
+  where else to go, and I found you. I thought you were dead
+  somewhere out on the Kansas prairie. Maybe it was to help me a
+  little that you came here to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  Her hands were gripped tightly and her mouth was firm-set in an
+  effort to be brave.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Eloise, I'd never let Marcos Ramero, nor anybody else, make
+  you one little heart-throb afraid. If you will only let me help
+  you, I wouldn't call it trouble; I'd call it by another name."
+  The longing to say more made me pause there.<br>
+  <br>
+  The light was fading overhead, but the church lamps gave a soft
+  glow that seemed to shield off the shadowy gloom.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef came all the way from New Mexico to St. Ann's to
+  have me come back here, and Mother Bridget sent Sister Anita, you
+  remember her, up to St. Louis to come with me by way of New
+  Orleans. I didn't tell you that I might be here when your train
+  came in overland because--because of some things about my own
+  people--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The fair head was bowed and the soft voice trembled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't be afraid to tell me anything, Little Lees," I whispered,
+  assuringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I never saw my father, but my mother was very beautiful and
+  loving, and we were so happy together. I was still a very little
+  girl when she fell sick and they took me away from her. I never
+  knew when she died nor where she was buried. Ferdinand Ramero had
+  charge of her property. He controlled everything after she went
+  away, and I have always lived in fear of his word. I am helpless
+  when he commands, for he has a strange power over minds; and as
+  to Marcos--you know what a little cat I was. I had to be to live
+  with him. It wasn't until we were all at Bent's Fort that I got
+  over my fear of you and Beverly. The day you threw Marcos out of
+  here was the first time I ever had a champion to defend me."<br>
+  <br>
+  I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her what I dared not
+  think she would let me say. So I listened in sympathetic
+  silence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then came an awful day out at Agua Fria, and Father Josef took
+  me in his arms as he would take a baby, and sang me to sleep with
+  the songs my mother loved to sing. I think it must have been
+  midnight when I wakened. It was dreary and cold, and Esmond
+  Clarenden and Ferdinand Ramero were there, and Father Josef and
+  Jondo."<br>
+  <br>
+  And then she told me, as she remembered them, the happenings of
+  that night at Agua Fria, the same story that Jondo told me later.
+  But until that evening I had known nothing of how Eloise had come
+  to us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You know the rest," Eloise went on "I have had a boarding-school
+  life, and no real friends, except the Clarenden family, outside
+  of these schools."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You poor little girl! One of the same Clarenden family is ready
+  to be your friend now," I said, tenderly, remembering keenly how
+  Uncle Esmond and Jondo had loved and protected three orphan
+  children.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Rameros think nobody but a Ramero can do that now. Marcos is
+  very much changed. He has been educated in Europe, is handsome,
+  and courtly in his manners, and as his father's heir he will be
+  wealthy. He came to-night to ask me, to urge and plead with me,
+  to marry him." Eloise paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you need the defense of a bull-whacker of the plains against
+  these things?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I could depend on myself if it were only Marcos. He comes
+  with polished ways and pleasing words," Eloise replied. "It is
+  his father's iron fist back of him that strikes at me through his
+  graciousness. He tells me that all the St. Vrain money, which he
+  controls by the terms of my father's will, he can give to the
+  Church, if he chooses, and leave me disinherited."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We don't mind that a bit as a starter up in Kansas. Come out on
+  our prairies and try it," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail, that isn't all. There is something worse, dreadfully
+  worse, that I cannot tell you, that only the Rameros know, and
+  hold like a sword over my head. If I marry Marcos his father will
+  destroy all evidence of it and I shall have a handsome, talented,
+  rich husband." Eloise bowed her head and clasped her hands,
+  crushed by the misery of her lot.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And if you refuse to marry this scoundrel?" I asked,
+  bluntly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then I will be a penniless outcast. The Rameros are powerful
+  here, and the Church will be with them, for it will get my
+  inheritance. I am helpless and alone and I don't know what to
+  do."<br>
+  <br>
+  I think I had never known what anger meant before. This beautiful
+  girl, homeless, and about to be robbed of her fortune, reared in
+  luxury, with no chance for developing self-reliance and courage,
+  was being hemmed in and forced to a marriage by threats of
+  poverty and a secret something against which she was powerless.
+  All the manhood in me rallied to her cause, and she was an
+  hundredfold dearer to me now, in her helplessness.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I'm a horny-handed driver of a bull-team on the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail, but you will let me help you if I can. So far as
+  your money is concerned, there's a lot of it on earth, even if
+  the Church should grab up your little bit because Ferdinand
+  Ramero says your father's will permits it. There are evil
+  representatives in every Church, no matter what its name may be,
+  Catholic, Protestant, Indian, or Jew, but Father Josef up there
+  is bigger than his priestly coat, and you can trust that size
+  anywhere. And as to the knowledge of this 'something' known just
+  to Ferdinand Ramero, if he is the only one who knows it, it is
+  too small to get far, if it were turned loose. And any man who
+  would use such infamous means to get what he wants is too small
+  to have much influence if he doesn't get it. This is a big, wide,
+  good world, Little Lees, and the father of Marcos Ramero, with
+  all his power and wealth, has a short lariat that doesn't let him
+  graze wide. Jondo holds the other end of that lariat, and he
+  knows."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise listened eagerly, but her face was very white.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, you don't know the Ramero blood. I am helpless and
+  terrified with them in spite of their suave manners and
+  flattering words. Why did Father Josef bring me back here if the
+  Church is not with them? And then that awful shadow of some
+  hidden thing that may darken my life. I know their cruel,
+  pitiless hearts. They stop at nothing when they want their way. I
+  have known them to do the most cold-blooded deeds."<br>
+  <br>
+  Poor Eloise! The net about her had been skilfully drawn.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know Father Josef's motive, but I can trust him. And no
+  shadow shall trouble you long, Little Lees. Jondo and Uncle
+  Esmond `tote together,' Aunty Boone said long ago. They know
+  something about the Ramero blood, and Jondo has promised to tell
+  me his story some day. He must do it to-night, and to-morrow
+  we'll see the end of this tangle. Trust me, Eloise," I said,
+  comfortingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail, I'm afraid Ferdinand will kill you if you get in his
+  way." Eloise clung to my arm imploringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Six big Kiowas got fooled at that job. Do you think this thin
+  streak of humanity would try it?" I asked, lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise stood up beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I must go away now," she said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Then I'll go with you. Thank you, Father Josef, for your
+  kindness," I said as the priest came toward us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are welcome, my son. In the sanctuary circle no harm can
+  come. Peace be with both of you."<br>
+  <br>
+  There was a world of benediction in his deep tones, and his smile
+  was genial, as he followed us to the street and stood as if
+  watching for some one.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I will meet you at San Miguel's to-morrow afternoon, Gail,"
+  Eloise said, as we reached a low but pretentious adobe dwelling.
+  "This is my home now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Your new Mexican homes are thick-walled, and you live all on the
+  inside," I said, as we paused at the doorway. "They make me think
+  of the lower invertebrates, hard-shelled, soft-bodied animals. Up
+  on the Kansas prairies and the Missouri bluffs we have a central
+  vetebra--the family hearth-stone--and we live all around it. That
+  is the people who have them do. There isn't much home life for a
+  freighter of the plains anywhere. Good by, Little Lees." I took
+  her offered hand. "I'm glad you have let me be your friend, a
+  hard-shelled bull-whacker like me."<br>
+  <br>
+  The street was full of shadows and the evening air was chill as
+  the door closed on that sweet face and cloud of golden hair. But
+  the pressure of warm white fingers lingered long in my sense of
+  touch as I retraced my steps to the trail's end. At the church
+  door I saw Father Josef still waiting, as if watching for
+  somebody.<br>
+  <br>
+  All that Eloise had told me ran through my mind, but I felt sure
+  that neither financial nor churchly influence in Santa F&eacute;
+  could be turned to evil purposes so long as men like Felix Narveo
+  and Father Josef were there. And then I thought of Esmond
+  Clarenden, himself neither Mexican nor Roman Catholic, who,
+  nevertheless, drew to himself such fair-dealing, high-minded men
+  as these, always finding the best to aid him, and combating the
+  worst with daring fearlessness. Surely with the priest and the
+  merchant and Jondo as my uncle's representative, no harm could
+  come to the girl whom I knew that I should always love.<br>
+  <br>
+  And with my mind full of Eloise and her need I sought out Jondo
+  and listened to his story. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV">XIV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  OPENING THE RECORD</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Fighting for leave to live and labor well,<br>
+  God flung me peace and ease.<br>
+                              --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  I found Jondo in the little piazza opening into the hotel
+  court.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where did you leave Krane and Bev?" he asked, as I sat down
+  beside him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't leave them; they left me," I answered.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, you young bucks are all alike. You know just enough to be
+  good to yourselves. You don't think much about anybody else,"
+  Jondo said, with a smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think of others, Jondo, and for that reason I want you to tell
+  me that story about Ferdinand Ramero that you promised to tell me
+  one night back on the trail."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo gave a start.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd like to forget that man, not talk about him," he
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "But it is to help somebody else, not just to be good to myself,
+  that I want to know it," I insisted, using his own terms. And
+  then I told him what Eloise had told me in the San Miguel
+  church.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Are the Ramero's so powerful here that they can control the
+  Church in their scheme to get what they want?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It would be foolish to underestimate the strength of Ferdinand
+  Ramero," Jondo replied, adding, grimly, "It has been my lot to
+  know the best of men who could make me believe all men are good,
+  and the worst of men who make me doubt all humanity." He clenched
+  his fists as if to hold himself in check, and something, neither
+  sigh nor groan nor oath nor prayer, but like them all, burst from
+  his lips.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the
+  green prairies and the open plains, and the danger-stimulus of
+  the old Santa F&eacute; Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and
+  soften your hard, rebellious heart, and make you see things big,
+  and despise the narrow little crooks in your path."<br>
+  <br>
+  One must have known Jondo, with his bluff manner and sunny smile
+  and daring spirit, to feel the force, of these brave sad words. I
+  felt intuitively that I had laid bare a wound of his by my
+  story.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is for Eloise, not for my curiosity, that I have come to
+  you," I said, gently. "And you didn't come too soon, boy." Jondo
+  was himself in a moment. "It is another cruel act in the old
+  tragedy of Ramero against Clarenden and others."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Will the Church be bribed by the St. Vrain estate and urge this
+  wedding?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Church considers money as so much power for the Kingdom. I
+  have heard that the St. Vrain estate was left in Ramero's hands
+  with the proviso that if Eloise should marry foolishly before she
+  was twenty-five she, would lose her property. Do you see the
+  trick in the game, and why Ramero can say that if he chooses he
+  can take her heritage away from her? But as he keeps everything
+  in his own hands it is hard to know the truth about anything
+  connected with money matters."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Would Father Josef be party to such a transaction?" I asked,
+  angrily.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Ramero thinks so, but he is mistaken," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What makes you think he won't be?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Because I knew Father Josef before he became a priest, and why
+  he took the vows," Jondo declared. "Unless a man brings some
+  manhood to the altar, he will not find it in the title nor the
+  dress there, it makes no difference whether he be Catholic,
+  Protestant, Hebrew, or heathen. Father Josef was a gentleman
+  before he was a priest."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, if he's all right, why did he bring Eloise back here into
+  the heart of all this trouble?" I questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo sat thinking for a little while, then he said,
+  assuringly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know his motive, unless he felt he could protect her
+  here himself; but I tell you, my boy, he can be trusted. Let me
+  tell you something, Gail. When Esmond Clarenden and I were boys
+  back in a New England college we knew two fellows from the
+  Southwest whose fathers were in official circles at Washington.
+  One was Felix Narveo, thoroughbred Mexican, thoroughbred
+  gentleman, a bit lacking in initiative sometimes, for he came
+  from the warmer, lazier lands, but as true as the compass in his
+  character. The other fellow was Dick Verra, French father,
+  English mother; I think he had a strain of Indian blood farther
+  back somewhere, but he would have been a prince in any tribe or
+  nation. A happy, wholesome, red-blooded, young fellow, with the
+  world before him for his conquest.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We knew another fellow, too, Fred Ramer, self-willed, imperious,
+  extravagant in his habits, greedy and unscrupulous; but he was
+  handsome and masterful, with a compelling magnetism that made us
+  admire him and bound us to him. He had never known what it meant
+  to have a single wish denied him. And with his make-up, he would
+  stop at nothing to have his own way, until his wilful pride and
+  stubbornness and love of luxury ruined him. But in our college
+  days we were his satellites. He was always in debt to all of us,
+  for money was his only god and we never dared to press him for
+  payment. The only one of us who ever overruled him was Dick
+  Verra. But Dick was a born master of men. There was one other
+  chum of ours, but I'll tell you about him later. Boys together,
+  we had many escapades and some serious problems, until by the
+  time our college days were over we were bound together by those
+  ties that are made in jest and broken with choking voices and
+  eyes full of tears."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused and I waited, silent, until he should continue.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Things happened to that little group of college men as time went
+  on. You know your uncle's life, leading merchant of Kansas City
+  and the Southwest; and mine, plainsman and freighter on the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail. Felix Narveo's history is easily read. Esmond
+  Clarenden came down here at the outbreak of the Mexican War, and
+  together he and Narveo laid the foundation for the present trail
+  commerce that is making the country at either end of it rich and
+  strong. Dick Verra is now Father Josef." Jondo paused as if to
+  gather force for the rest of the story. Then he said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Back at college we all knew Mary Marchland, a beautiful
+  Louisiana girl who visited in Washington and New England, and all
+  of us were in love with her. When our life-lines crossed again
+  Clarenden had come to St. Louis. About that time his two older
+  brothers and their wives died suddenly of yellow fever, leaving
+  you and Beverly alone. It was Felix Narveo who brought you up to
+  St. Louis to your uncle."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember that. The steamboat, and the Spanish language, and
+  Felix Narveo's face. I recalled that when I saw him years ago," I
+  exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You always were all eyes and ears, remembering names and faces,
+  where Beverly would not recall anything," Jondo declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And what became of your Fred Ramer?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is Ferdinand Ramero here. He married Narveo's sister later.
+  She is not the mother of Marcos, but a second wife. She owned a
+  tract of land inherited from the Narveo estate down in the San
+  Christobal country. There is a lonely ranch house in a
+  picturesque ca&ntilde;on, and many acres of grazing-land. She
+  keeps it still as hers, although her stepson, Marcos, claims it
+  now. It is for her sake that Narveo doesn't dare to move openly
+  against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
+  with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
+  freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's
+  why I knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at
+  Pawnee Rock. I could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He
+  joined the Catholic Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But
+  the traits of his young manhood, intensified, are still his. He
+  is handsome, and attractive, and rich, and influential, but he is
+  also cold-blooded, and greedy for money until it is his ruling
+  passion, villainously unscrupulous, and mercilessly unforgiving
+  toward any one who opposes his will; and his capacity for undying
+  hatred is appalling."<br>
+  <br>
+  And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of
+  Eloise St. Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in
+  his life that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he
+  went mad with jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters
+  than whisky and opium, once they get a man down."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one
+  who, from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an
+  enemy and turn away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her
+  life. He came between her and the man she loved with such adroit
+  cruelty that they were separated, and although they loved each
+  other always, they never saw each other again. Through a terrible
+  network of misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by
+  the way, was the other college chum I spoke of just now. He and
+  his foster-brother, Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father.
+  But their guardian, the elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their
+  property and there was bitter enmity between them and him. Theron
+  and Mary were the parents of Eloise St. Vrain. It is no wonder
+  that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland for a mother.
+  Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his property
+  fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend to
+  Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy
+  marriage. In that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give
+  the estate to the Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died,
+  nor where she is buried, except Fred and his confessor, Father
+  Josef."<br>
+  <br>
+  "How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a
+  truer eye and a sweeter smile than my big Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Fred Ramer was desperately in need of money when he was plotting
+  to darken the life of Mary Marchland--that was just before the
+  birth of Eloise--and through her sorrow to break the heart of the
+  man whom she loved--I said we college boys were all in love with
+  her, you remember. Let me make it short now. One night Fred's
+  father was murdered, by whom was never exactly proven. But he was
+  last seen alive with his ward, Theron St. Wain, who, with his
+  foster-brother, Bertrand, thoroughly despised him for his plain
+  robbery of their heritage.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The case was strong against Theron, for the evidence was very
+  damaging, and it would have gone hard with him but for the
+  foster-brother. Bertrand St. Wain took the guilt upon himself by
+  disappearing suddenly. He was supposed to have drowned himself in
+  the lower Mississippi, for his body, recognized only by some
+  clothing, was recovered later in a drift and decently buried. So
+  <i>he</i> was effaced from the records of man."<br>
+  <br>
+  In the dim light Jondo's blue eyes were like dull steel and his
+  face was a face of stone, but he continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Just here Clarenden comes into the story. He learned it through
+  Felix Narveo, and Felix got it from the Mexicans themselves, that
+  Fred Ramer had plotted with them to put his father out of the
+  way--I said he was desperately in need of money--and to lay the
+  crime on Theron St. Vrain, by whose disgrace the life of Mary
+  Marchland would be blighted, and Fred would have his revenge and
+  his father's money. Narveo was afraid to act against Ramer, but
+  nothing ever scared Esmond Clarenden away from what he wanted to
+  do. Through his friendship for St. Vrain, to whom some suspicion
+  still clung, and that lost foster-brother, Bertrand, he turned
+  the screws on Fred Ramer that drove him out of the country. He
+  landed, finally, at Santa F&eacute;, and became Ferdinand Ramero.
+  He managed by his charming manners to enchant the sister of Felix
+  Narveo--and you know the rest."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Didn't Felix Narveo go to Fort Leavenworth once, just before
+  Uncle Esmond brought us with him to Santa F&eacute;?" I
+  asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he went to warn Clarenden not to leave you there
+  unprotected, for a band of Ramero's henchmen were on their way
+  then to the Missouri River--we passed them at Council Grove--to
+  kidnap you three and take you to old Mexico," Jondo said. "An
+  example of Fred's efforts to get even with Clarenden and of the
+  loyalty of Narveo to his old college chum. The same gang of
+  Mexicans had kidnapped Little Blue Flower and given her to the
+  Kiowas."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You told me that Uncle Esmond forced Ferdinand Ramero out of the
+  country on account of a wrong done to you, Jondo," I reminded the
+  big plainsman.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He did," Jondo replied. "I told you that we all loved Mary
+  Marchland. Fred Ramer broke under his loss of her, and became the
+  devil's own tool of hate and revenge, and what generally gets
+  tied up with these sooner or later, a passion for money and
+  irregular means of getting it. Money is as great an asset for
+  hate as for love, and Fred sold his soul for it long ago.
+  Clarenden came to the frontier and lost himself in the building
+  of the plains commerce, and his heart he gave to the three orphan
+  children to whom he gave a home. When New Mexico came under our
+  flag Narveo came with it, a good citizen and a loyal patriot. He
+  married a Mexican woman of culture and lives a contented life.
+  Dick Verra went into the Church. I came to the plains, and the
+  stimulus of danger, and the benediction of the open sky, and the
+  healing touch of the prairie winds, and the solemn stillness of
+  the great distances have made me something more of a man than I
+  should have been. Maybe I was hurt the worst. Clarenden thought I
+  was. Sometimes I think Dick Verra got the best of all of us."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's voice trailed off into silence and I knew what his hurt
+  was--that he was the man whom Mary Marchland had loved, from whom
+  Fred Ramer, by his cruel machinations, had separated her--"<i>and
+  although they loved each other always, they never saw each other
+  again</i>." Poor Jondo! What a man among men this unknown
+  freighter of the plains might have been--and what a loss to the
+  plains in the best of the trail years if Jondo had never dared
+  its dangers for the safety of the generations to come.<br>
+  <br>
+  But the thought of Eloise, driven out momentarily by Jondo's
+  story, came rushing in again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You said you put a ring around Ramero to keep him in Santa
+  F&eacute;. Can't we get Eloise outside of it?" I urged,
+  anxiously.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe I should have said that Father Josef put it around him for
+  me," Jondo replied. "He confessed his crimes fully to the Church.
+  He couldn't get by Father Josef. Here he is much honored and
+  secure and we let him alone. The disgrace he holds the secret
+  of--he alone--is that the father of Eloise killed his father, the
+  crime for which the foster-brother fell. Ramero as guardian of
+  Eloise and her property legally could have kept her here. Only a
+  man like Clarenden would have dared to take her away, though he
+  had the pleading call of her mother's last wish. Gail, I have
+  told you the heart-history of half a dozen men. If this had
+  stopped with us we could forgive after a while, but it runs down
+  to you and Beverly and Eloise and Marcos, who will carry out his
+  father's plans to the letter. So the battle is all to be fought
+  over again. Let me leave you a minute or two. I'll not be gone
+  long."<br>
+  <br>
+  I sat alone, staring out at the shadowy court and, above it, the
+  blue night-sky of New Mexico inlaid with stars, until a rush of
+  feet in the hall and a shout of inquiry told me that Beverly
+  Clarenden was hunting for me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meantime the girl in Mexican dress, who had come out of the
+  church with Father Josef when he came to greet Eloise and me, had
+  passed unnoticed through the Plaza and out on the way leading to
+  the northeast. Here she came to the blind adobe wall of La
+  Garita, whose olden purpose one still may read in the many
+  bullet-holes in its brown sides. Here she paused, and as the
+  evening shadows lengthened the dress and wall blended their dull
+  tones together.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly Clarenden, who had gone with Rex Krane up to Fort Marcy
+  that evening, had left his companion to watch the sunset and
+  dream of Mat back on the Missouri bluff, while he wandered down
+  La Garita. He did not see the Mexican woman standing motionless,
+  a dark splotch against a dun wall, until a soft Hopi voice
+  called, eagerly, "Beverly, Beverly."<br>
+  <br>
+  The black scarf fell from the bright face, and Indian garb--not
+  Po-a-be, the student of St. Ann's and the guest of the Clarenden
+  home, with the white Grecian robe and silver headband set with
+  coral pendants, as Beverly had seen her last in the side porch on
+  the night of Mat's wedding, but Little Blue Flower, the Indian of
+  the desert lands, stood before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where the devil--I mean the holy saints and angels, did you come
+  from?" Beverly cried, in delight, at seeing a familiar face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I came here to do Father Josef some service. He has been good to
+  me. I bring a message."<br>
+  <br>
+  She reached out her hand with a letter. Beverly took the letter
+  and the hand. He put the message in his pocket, but he did not
+  release the hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's something for Jondo. I'll see that he gets it, all right.
+  Tell me all about yourself now, Little
+  Run-Off-and-Never-Come-Back." It was Beverly's way to make people
+  love him, because he loved people.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was late at last, too late for prudence, older heads would
+  agree, when these two separated, and my cousin came to pounce
+  upon me in the hotel court to tell me of his adventure.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I learned a lot of things," he added. "That Indian in the
+  Plaza to-day is Santan, or Satan, dead sure; and you'd never
+  guess, but he's the same redskin--Apache red--that was out at
+  Agua Fria that time we were there long ago. The very same little
+  sneak! He followed us clear to Bent's Fort. He put up a good
+  story to Jondo, but I'll bet he was somebody's tool. You know
+  what a critter he was there. But listen now! He's got his eye on
+  Little Blue Flower. He's plain wild Injun, and she's a Saint
+  Ann's scholar. Isn't that presumption, though! She's afraid of
+  him, too. This country fairly teams with romance, doesn't
+  it?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, don't you ever take anything seriously?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I guess I do. I found that Santan, dead loaded with
+  jealousy, sneaking after us in the dark to-night when I took
+  Little Blue Flower for a stroll. I took him seriously, and told
+  him exactly where he'd find me next time he was looking for me.
+  That I'd stand him up against La Garita and make a sieve out of
+  him," Beverly said, carelessly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly Clarenden, you are a fool to get that Apache's
+  ill-will," I cried.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I may be, but I'm no coward," Beverly retorted. "Oh, here comes
+  Jondo. I've got a letter from Father Josef. Invitation to some
+  churchly dinner, I expect."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly threw the letter into Jondo's hands and turned to leave
+  us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Wait a minute!" Jondo commanded, and my cousin halted in
+  surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "When did you get this? I should have had it two hours ago,"
+  Jondo said, sternly. "Father Josef must have waited a long time
+  up at the church door for his messenger to come back and bring
+  him word from me."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly frankly told him the truth, as from childhood we had
+  learned was the easiest way out of trouble.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's smile came back to his eyes, but his lips did not smile
+  as he said: "Gail, you can explain things to Bev. This is serious
+  business, but it had to come sooner or later. The battle is on,
+  and we'll fight it out. Ferdinand Ramero is determined that
+  Eloise and his son shall be married early to-morrow morning. The
+  bribe to the Church is one-half of the St. Vrain estate. The club
+  over Eloise is the shame of some disgrace that he holds the key
+  to. He will stop at nothing to have his own way, and he will
+  stoop to any brutal means to secure it. He has a host of fellows
+  ready at his call to do any crime for his sake. That's how far
+  money and an ungovernable passion can lead a man. If I had known
+  this sooner, we would have acted to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly groaned.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me go and kill that man. There ought to be a bounty on such
+  wild beasts," he declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He'd do that for you through a Mexican dagger, or an Apache
+  arrow, if you got in his way," Jondo replied. "But what we must
+  do is this: Twenty miles south on the San Christobal Arroyo there
+  is a lonely ranch-house on the old Narveo estate, a forgotten
+  place, but it is a veritable fort, built a hundred years ago,
+  when every house here was a fort. To-morrow at daybreak you must
+  start with Eloise and Sister Anita down there. I will see Father
+  Josef later and tell him where I have sent you. Little Blue
+  Flower will show you the way. It is a dangerous ride, and you
+  must make it as quickly and as silently as possible. A bullet
+  from some little ca&ntilde;on could find you easily if Ramero
+  should know your trail. Will you go?"<br>
+  <br>
+  There was no need for the question as Jondo well knew, but his
+  face was bright with courage and hope, and a thankfulness he
+  could not express shone in his eyes as he looked at us, big,
+  stalwart, eager and unafraid. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XV" id="XV">XV</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Mark where she stands! Around her form I draw<br>
+  The awful circle of our solemn church!<br>
+  Set but a foot within that holy ground,<br>
+  And on thy head--yea, though it wore a crown--<br>
+  launch the curse of Rome.<br>
+                                          --"RICHELIEU."</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The faint rose hue of early dawn was touching the highest peaks
+  of the Sandia and Jemez mountain ranges, while the valley of the
+  Rio Grande still lay asleep under dull night shadows, when five
+  ponies and their riders left the door of San Miguel church and
+  rode southward in the slowly paling gloom. In the stillness of
+  the hour the ponies' feet, muffled in the sand of the way, seemed
+  to clatter noisily, and their trappings creaked loudly in the
+  dead silence of the place. Little Blue Flower, no longer in her
+  Mexican dress, led the line. Behind her Beverly and the
+  white-faced nun of St. Ann's rode side by side; and behind these
+  came Eloise St. Vrain and myself. From the church door Jondo had
+  watched us until we melted into the misty shadows of the
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go carefully and fearlessly and ride hard if you must. But the
+  struggle will be here with me to-day, not where you are," he
+  assured us, when we started away.<br>
+  <br>
+  As he turned to leave the church, an Indian rose from the shadows
+  beyond it and stepped before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You remember me, Santan, the Apache, at Fort Bent?" he
+  questioned.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked keenly to be sure that his memory fitted the man
+  before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you are Santan. You brought me a message from Father Josef
+  once."<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian's face did not change by the twitch of an eyelash as
+  he replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I would bring another message from him. He would see you an hour
+  later than you planned. The young riders, where shall I tell him
+  they have gone?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "To the old ranch-house on the San Christobal Arroyo," Jondo
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian smiled, and turning quickly, he disappeared up the
+  dark street. A sudden thrill shook Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Father Josef said I could trust that boy entirely. Surely old
+  Dick Verra, part Indian himself, couldn't be mistaken. But that
+  Apache lied to me. I know it now; and I told him where our boys
+  are taking Eloise. I never made a blunder like that before.
+  Damned fool that I am!"<br>
+  <br>
+  He ground his teeth in anger and disgust, as he sat down in the
+  doorway of the church to await the coming of Ferdinand Ramero and
+  his son, Marcos.<br>
+  <br>
+  Out on the trail our ponies beat off the miles with steady gait.
+  As the way narrowed, we struck into single file, moving silently
+  forward under the guidance of Little Blue Flower, now plunging
+  into dark ca&ntilde;ons, where the trail was rocky and perilous,
+  now climbing the steep sidling paths above the open plain.
+  Morning came swiftly over the Gloriettas. Darkness turned to
+  gray; shapeless masses took on distinctness; the night chill
+  softened to the crisp breeze of dawn. Then came the rare June day
+  in whose bright opening hour the crystal skies of New Mexico hung
+  above us, and about us lay a landscape with radiant lights on the
+  rich green of the mesa slopes, and gray levels atint with
+  mother-of-pearl and gold.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian pueblos were astir. Mexican faces showed now and then
+  at the doorways of far-scattered groups of adobe huts. Outside of
+  these all was silence--a motionless land full of wild, rugged
+  beauty, and thrilling with the spell of mystery and glamour of
+  romance. And overbrooding all, the spirit of the past, that made
+  each winding trail a footpath of the centuries; each sheer cliff
+  a watch-tower of the ages; each wide sandy plain, a
+  rallying-ground for the tribes long ago gone to dust; each narrow
+  valley a battle-field for the death-struggle between the dusky
+  sovereigns of a wilderness kingdom and the pale-faced conquerors
+  of the coat of mail and the dominant soul. The sense of danger
+  lessened with distance and no knight of old Spain ever rode more
+  proudly in the days of chivalry than Beverly Clarenden and I rode
+  that morning, fearing nothing, sure of our power to protect the
+  golden-haired girl, thrilled by this strange flight through a
+  land of strange scenes fraught with the charm of daring and
+  danger. Beverly rode forward now with Little Blue Flower. I did
+  not wonder at her spell over him, for she was in her own land
+  now, and she matched its picturesque phases with her own
+  picturesque racial charm.<br>
+  <br>
+  I rode beside Eloise, forgetting, in the sweet air and glorious
+  June sunlight, that we were following an uncertain trail away
+  from certain trouble.<br>
+  <br>
+  The white-faced nun in her somber dress, rode between, with
+  serious countenance and downcast eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What happened to you, Little Lees, after I left you?" I asked,
+  as we trotted forward toward the San Christobal valley.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Everything, Gail," she replied, looking up at me with shy, sad
+  eyes. "First Ferdinand Ramero came to me with the command that I
+  should consent to be married this morning. By this time I would
+  have been Marcos' wife." She shivered as she spoke. "I can't tell
+  you the way of it, it was so final, so cruel, so impossible to
+  oppose. Ferdinand's eyes cut like steel when they look at you,
+  and you know he will do more than he threatens. He said the
+  Church demanded one-half of my little fortune and that he could
+  give it the other half if he chose. He is as imperious as a
+  tyrant in his pleasanter moods; in his anger he is a maniac. I
+  believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
+  threats of disgracing me were terrible."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her
+  wretched memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has
+  an Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her
+  come in to see me late last night or I should not have been here
+  now. I had almost given up when she brought me word that you and
+  Beverly would meet me at the church at daylight. I have not slept
+  since. What will be the end of this day's work? Isn't there
+  safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the fair, sad face with
+  the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight
+  it out in Santa F&eacute; to-day. It is our work to go where the
+  Hopi blossom leads us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let
+  anything happen to you."<br>
+  <br>
+  I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall
+  that morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my
+  abounding vigor and confidence in my courage and my powers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked
+  the way of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande. On
+  either hand tall cliffs, huge weather-worn points of rock, and
+  steep slopes, spotted with evergreen shrubs, bordered the river's
+  course. The silent bigness of every feature of the landscape and
+  the beauty of the June day in the June time of our lives, and our
+  sense of security in having escaped the shadows and strife in
+  Santa F&eacute;, all combined to make us free-spirited. Only
+  Sister Anita rode, alert and sorrowful-faced, between Beverly and
+  the gaily-robed Indian girl, and myself with Eloise, the
+  beautiful.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we rounded a bend in the narrow valley, Little Blue Flower
+  halted us, and pointing to an old half-ruined rock structure
+  beside the stream, she said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "See, yonder is the chapel where Father Josef comes sometimes to
+  pray for the souls of the Hopi people. The house we go to find is
+  farther up a ca&ntilde;on over there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember the place," Eloise declared. "Father Josef brought me
+  here once and left me awhile. I wasn't afraid, although I was
+  alone, for he told me I was always safe in a church. But I was
+  never allowed to come back again."<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita crossed herself and, glancing over her shoulder,
+  gave a sharp cry of alarm. We turned about to see a group, of
+  horsemen dashing madly up the trail behind us. The wind in their
+  faces blew back the great cloud of dust made by their horses
+  hoofs, hiding their number and the way behind them. Their steeds
+  were wet with foam, but their riders spurred them on with
+  merciless fury. In the forefront Ferdinand Ramero's tall form,
+  towering above the small statured evil-faced Mexican band he was
+  leading, was outlined against the dust-cloud following them, and
+  I caught the glint of light on his drawn revolver. "Ride! Ride
+  like the devil!" Beverly shouted.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the same time he and the Hopi girl whirled out and, letting us
+  pass, fell in as a rear guard between us and our pursuers. And
+  the race was on.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had said the lonely ranch-house whither we were tending was
+  as strong as a fort. Surely it could not be far away, and our
+  ponies were not spent with hard riding. Before us the valley
+  narrowed slightly, and on its rim jagged rock cliffs rose through
+  three hundred feet of earthquake-burst, volcanic-tossed confusion
+  to the high tableland beyond.<br>
+  <br>
+  As we strained forward, half a dozen Mexican horsemen suddenly
+  appeared on the trail before us to cut off our advance. Down
+  between us and the new enemy stood the old stone chapel, like the
+  shadow of a great rock in a weary land, where for two hundred
+  long years it had set up an altar to the Most High on this lonely
+  savage plain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The chapel! The chapel! We must run to that now," cried Sister
+  Anita.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her long veil was streaming back in the wind, and her rosary and
+  crucifix beating about her shoulders with the hard riding, but
+  her white face was brave with a divine trust. Yet even as she
+  urged us I saw how imposible was her plea, for the men in
+  front were already nearer to the place than we were. At the same
+  time a pony dashed up beside me, and Little Blue Flower's voice
+  rang in my ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The rocks! Climb up and hide in the rocks!" She dropped back on
+  one side of Beverly, with Sister Anita on the other, guarding our
+  rear. As I turned our flight toward the cliff, I caught sight of
+  an Indian in a wedge of rock just across the river, and I heard
+  the singing flight of an arrow behind me, followed almost
+  instantly by another arrow. I looked back to see Sister Anita's
+  pony staggering and rearing in agony, with Little Blue Flower
+  trying vainly to catch its bridle-rein, and Sister Anita,
+  clutching wildly at her rosary, a great stream of blood flowing
+  from an arrow wound in her neck.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men think swiftly in moments like these. The impulse to halt, and
+  the duty to press on for the protection of the girl beside me,
+  holding me in doubt. Instantly I saw the dark crew, with
+  Ferdinand Ramero leading fiercely forward, almost upon us, and I
+  heard Beverly Clarenden's voice filling the valley--"Run, Gail,
+  run! You can beat 'em up there."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a cry of insistences and assurances and power, and withal
+  there was that minor tone of sympathy which had sounded in the
+  boy's defiant voice long ago in the gray-black shadows below
+  Pawnee Rock, when his chivalric soul had been stirred by the
+  cruel wrongs of Little Blue Flower and he had cried:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."<br>
+  <br>
+  I knew in a flash that the three behind us were cut off, and
+  Eloise St. Vrain and I pressed on alone. We crossed the narrow
+  strip of rising ground to where the first rocks lay as they had
+  fallen from the cliff above, split off by some titanic agony of
+  nature. Up and up we went, our ponies stumbling now and then, but
+  almost as surefooted as men, as they climbed the narrow way. Now
+  the rocks hid us from the plain as we crept sturdily through
+  narrow crevices, and now we clambered up an open path where
+  nothing concealed our way. But higher still and higher, foot, by
+  foot we pressed, while with oath and growl behind us came our
+  pursuers.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we could ride no farther, and the miracle was that our
+  ponies could have climbed so far. Above us huge slabs of stone,
+  by some internal cataclysm hurled into fragments of unguessed
+  tons of weight, seemed poised in air, about to topple down upon
+  the plain below. Between these wild, irregular masses a narrow
+  footing zigzagged upward to still other wild, irregular masses, a
+  footing of long leaps in cramped spaces between sharp edges of
+  upright clefts, all gigantic, unbending, now shielding by their
+  immense angles, now standing sheer and stark before us, casting
+  no shadows to cover us from the great white glare of the
+  New-Mexican day.<br>
+  <br>
+  I have said no man knows where his mind will run in moments of
+  peril. As we left our ponies and clambered up and up in hope of
+  safety somewhere, the face of the rocks cut and carved by the
+  rude stone tools of a race long perished, seemed to hold groups
+  of living things staring at us and pointing the way. And there
+  was no end to these crude pictographs. Over and over and
+  over--the human hand, the track of the little road-runner bird,
+  the plumed serpent coiled or in waving line, the human form with
+  the square body and round head, with staring circles for eyes and
+  mouth, and straight-line limbs.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were fleeing for safety through the sacred aisles of a people
+  God had made; and when they served His purpose no longer, they
+  had perished. I did not think of them so that morning. I thought
+  only of some hiding-place, some inaccessible point where nothing
+  could reach the girl I must protect. But these crawling serpents,
+  cut in the rock surfaces, crawled on and on. These human hands,
+  poor detached hands, were lifted up in mute token of what had
+  gone before. These two-eyed, one-mouthed circles on heads fast to
+  body-boxes, from which waved tentacle limbs, jigged by us, to
+  give place to other coiled or crawling serpents and their
+  companion carvings, with the track of the swift road-runner
+  skipping by us everywhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last, with bleeding hands and torn clothing, we stood on a
+  level rock like a tiny mesa set out from the high summit of the
+  cliff.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise sat down at my feet as I looked back eagerly over the
+  precipitous way we had come, and watched the band of Mexicans
+  less rapidly swarming up the same steep, devious trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Three hundred feet below us lay the plain with the thin current
+  of the San Christobal River sparkling here and there in the
+  sunlight. The black spot on the trail that scarcely moved must be
+  Beverly and Little Blue Flower with Sister Anita. No, there was
+  only the Indian girl there, and something moving in and out of
+  the shadow near them. I could not see for the intervening
+  rocks.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail! Gail! You will not let them take you. You will not leave
+  me," Eloise moaned.<br>
+  <br>
+  And I was one against a dozen. I stooped to where she sat and
+  gently lifted her limp white hand, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I was on a rock like this a night and a day alone on the
+  prairie. I could not move nor cry out. But something inside told
+  me to 'hold fast'--the old law of the trail. You must do that
+  with me now."<br>
+  <br>
+  A shout broke over the valley and the rocks about us seemed
+  suddenly to grow men, as if every pictograph of the old stone age
+  had become a sentient thing, a being with a Mexican dress, and
+  the soul of a devil. Just across a narrow chasm, a little below
+  us, Ferdinand Ramero stood in all the insolence of a conqueror,
+  with a smile that showed his white teeth, and in his steely eyes
+  was the glitter of a snake about to spring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have given us a hard race. By Jove, you rode magnificently
+  and climbed heroically. I admire you for it. It is fine to bring
+  down game like you, Clarenden. You have your uncle's spirit, and
+  a six-foot body that dwarfs his short stature. And we come as
+  gentlemen only, if we can deal with a gentleman. It wasn't our
+  men who struck your nun down there. But if you, young man, dare
+  to show one ounce of fighting spirit now, behind you on the
+  rocks--don't look--as I lift my hand are my good friends who will
+  put a bullet into the brain beneath that golden hair, and you
+  will follow. Being a game-cock cannot help you now. It will only
+  hasten things. Deliver that girl to me at once, or my men will
+  close in upon you and no power on earth can save you."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise had sprung to her feet and stood beside me, and both of us
+  knew the helplessness of our plight. A startling picture it must
+  have been, and one the cliffs above the San Christobal will
+  hardly see again: the blue June sky arched overhead, unscarred by
+  a single cloud-fleck, the yellow plain winding between the high
+  picturesque cliffs, where silence broods all through the long
+  hours of the sunny day; the pictured rocks with their
+  furnace-blackened faces white--outlined with the story of the dim
+  beginnings of human strivings. And standing alone and defenseless
+  on the little table of stone, as if for sacrifice, the tall,
+  stalwart young plainsman and the beautiful girl with her golden
+  hair in waving masses about her uncovered head, her sweet face
+  white as the face of the dying nun beside the sandy arroyo below
+  us, her big dark eyes full of a strange fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I order you to close in and take these two at once." The
+  imperious command rang out, and the rocks across the valley must
+  have echoed its haughty tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I order you to halt."<br>
+  <br>
+  The voice of Father Josef, clear and rich and powerful, burst
+  upon the silence like cathedral music on the still midnight air.
+  The priest's tall form rose up on a great mass of rock across the
+  cleft before us--Father Josef with bared head and flashing eyes
+  and a physique of power.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero turned like a lion at bay. "You are one man. My
+  force number a full dozen. Move on," he ordered.<br>
+  <br>
+  Again the voice of Father Josef ruled the listening ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Since the days of old the Church has had the power to guard all
+  that come within the shelter of the holy sanctuary. And to the
+  Church of God was given also long ago the might to protect, by
+  sanctuary privilege, the needy and the defenseless. Ferdinand
+  Ramero, note that little table of rock where those two stand
+  helpless in your grasp. Around them now I throw, as I have power
+  to throw, the sacred circle of our Holy Church in sanctuary
+  shelter. Who dares to step inside it will be accursed in the
+  sight of God."<br>
+  <br>
+  Never, never will I live through another moment like to that, nor
+  see the power of the Unseen rule things that are seen with such
+  unbreakable strength.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Mexicans dropped to their knees in humble prayer, and
+  Ferdinand Ramero seemed turned to a man of stone. A hand was
+  gently laid upon my arm and Jondo and Rex Krane stood beside us.
+  A voice far off was sounding in my ears.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go back to your homes and meet me at the church to-morrow night.
+  You, Ferdinand Ramero, go now to the chapel yonder and wait until
+  I come."<br>
+  <br>
+  What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="XVI" id="XVI">XVI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  FINISHING TOUCHES</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  "<i>Yet there be certain times in a young man's life when through
+  great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away
+  so that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of
+  manhood.</i>"<br>
+
+  --KIPLING.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San
+  Christobal Valley, and there was not a single cloud in the June
+  skies to throw a softening shadow on the yellow plain. A little
+  group of Mexicans, riding northward with sullen faces, urged on
+  their jaded ponies viciously as they thought of the gold that was
+  to have been paid them for this morning's work, and of the gold
+  that to-morrow night must go to pay the priest who should shrive
+  them; and they had nothing gained wherewith to pay. Their leader,
+  whom they had served, had been trapped in his own game, and they
+  felt themselves abused and deceived.<br>
+  <br>
+  Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the
+  door of the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group
+  coming slowly toward him: Ferdinand Ramero, riding like a
+  captured but unconquered king, his head erect, his flashing eyes
+  seeing nobody; Jondo who could make the shabbiest piece of
+  horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it, his tanned cheek
+  flushed, and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking out through
+  his dark-blue eyes; Eloise, drooping like a white flower, but
+  brave of spirit now, sure that her grief and anxiety would be
+  lifted somehow. I rode beside her, glad to catch the faint smile
+  in her eyes when she looked at me. And last of all, Rex Krane,
+  with the same old Yankee spirit, quick to help a fellow-man and
+  oblivious to personal danger. So we all came to the chapel, but
+  at the door Rex wheeled and rode away, muttering, as he passed
+  me:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I've got business to look after, and not a darned thing to
+  confess."<br>
+  <br>
+  And Beverly! He was not with us.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Rex Krane told his bride good-by up in the Clarenden home on
+  the Missouri bluff, Mat had whispered one last request:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Look after Bev. He never sees danger for himself, nor takes
+  anything seriously, least of all an enemy, whom he will befriend,
+  and make a joke of it."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so it happened that Rex had stayed behind to care for
+  Beverly's arrow wound when Bill Banney had gone out with Jondo on
+  the Kiowa trail to search for me this side of Pawnee Rock.<br>
+  <br>
+  So also it happened that Rex had strolled down from Fort Marcy
+  the night before, in time to see Beverly and the girl in the
+  Mexican dress loitering along the brown front of La Garita. And
+  his keen eyes had caught sight of Santan crouching in an angle of
+  the wall, watching them.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Indians and Mexes don't mix a lot. And Bev oughtn't mix with
+  either one," Rex commented. "I'll line the boy up for review
+  to-morrow, so Mat won't say I've neglected him."<br>
+  <br>
+  But the Yankee took the precaution to follow the trail to the
+  Indian's possible abiding-place on the outskirts of Santa
+  F&eacute;. And it was Rex who most aided Jondo in finding that
+  the Indian had gone with Ramero's men northward.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That fellow is Santan, of Fort Bent, Rex," Jondo said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, you thought he was <i>Santa</i> and I took him for
+  <i>Satan</i> then. We missed out on which to knock out of him.
+  Bev won't care nothin' about his name. He will knock hell out of
+  him if he gets in that Clarenden boy's way," Rex had replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the chapel door now the Yankee turned away and rode down the
+  trail toward the little angle where an Indian arrow had whizzed
+  at our party an hour before.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the shadow of a fallen mass of rock below the cliff Little
+  Blue Flower had spread her blanket, with Beverly's coat tucked
+  under it in a roll for a pillow, and now she sat beside the dying
+  nun, holding the crucifix to Sister Anita's lips. The Indian
+  girl's hands were blood-stained and the nun's black veil and gown
+  were disheveled, and her white head-dress and coif were soaked
+  with gore. But her white face was full of peace as the light
+  faded from her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  And Beverly! The boy forgot the rest of the world when one of the
+  Apache's arrows struck down the pony and the other pierced Sister
+  Anita's neck. Tenderly as a mother would lift a babe he quickly
+  carried the stricken woman to the shelter of the rock, and with
+  one glance at her he turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You can do all that she needs done for her. Give her her cross
+  to hold," he said, gently, to Little Blue Flower.<br>
+  <br>
+  Then he sprang up and dashed across the river, splashing the
+  bright waters as he leaped to the farther side where Santan stood
+  concealed, waiting for the return of Ramero's Mexicans.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the sound of Beverly's feet he leaped to the open just in time
+  to meet Beverly's fist square between the eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Take that, you dirty dog, to shoot down an innocent nun. And
+  that!" Beverly followed his first blow with another.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Apache, who had reeled back with the weight of the boy's iron
+  fist, was too quick for the second thrust, struggling to get hold
+  of his arrows and his scalping-knife. But the space was too
+  narrow and Beverly was upon him with a shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I told you I'd make a sieve or you the next time you tried to
+  see me, and I'm going to do it."<br>
+  <br>
+  He seized the Indian's knife and flung it clear into the river,
+  where it stuck upright in the sands of the bed, parting the
+  little stream of water gurgling against it; and with a powerful
+  grip on the Apache's shoulders he wrenched the arrows from their
+  place and tramped on them with his heavy boot.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian's surprise and submission were gone in a flash, and
+  the two clinched in combat.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the one hand, jealousy, the inherited hatred of a mistreated
+  race, the savage instinct, a gloating joy in brute strife,
+  blood-lust, and a dogged will to trample in the dirt the man who
+  made the sun shine black for the Apache. On the other hand, a mad
+  rage, a sense of insult, a righteous greed for vengeance for a
+  cruel deed against an innocent woman, and all the superiority of
+  a dominant people. The one would conquer a powerful enemy, the
+  other would exterminate a despicable and dangerous pest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Back and forth across the narrow space hidden from the trail by
+  fallen rock they threshed like beasts of prey. The Apache had the
+  swiftness of the snake, his muscles were like steel springs, and
+  there was no rule of honorable warfare in his code. He bit and
+  clawed and pinched and scratched and choked and wrenched, with
+  the grim face and burning eyes of a murderer. But the Saxon
+  youth, slower of motion, heavier of bone and muscle, with a grip
+  like iron and a stony endurance, with pride in a conquest by
+  sheer clean skill, and with a purpose, not to take life, but to
+  humble and avenge, hammered back blow for blow; and there was
+  nothing for many minutes to show which was offensive and which
+  defensive.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the struggle raged on, the one grew more furious and the other
+  more self-confident.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I'll make you eat dust yet!" Beverly cried, as Santan in
+  triumph flung him backward and sprang upon his prostrate
+  form.<br>
+  <br>
+  They clinched again, and with a mighty surge of strength my
+  cousin lifted himself, and the Indian with him, and in the next
+  fall Beverly had his antagonist gripped and helpless.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can choke you out now as easy as you shot that arrow. Say your
+  prayers." He fairly growled out the words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I didn't aim at her," the Apache half whined, half boasted. "I
+  wanted you."<br>
+  <br>
+  At that moment Beverly, spent, bruised, and bleeding with
+  fighting and surcharged with the lust of combat, felt all the
+  instinct of murder urging him on to utterly destroy a
+  poison-fanged foe to humanity. At Santan's words he paused and,
+  flinging back the hair from his forehead, he caught his breath
+  and his better self in the same heart-beat. And the instinct of
+  the gentleman--he was Esmond Clarenden's brother's son--held the
+  destroying hand.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You aimed at me! Well, learn your lesson on that right now.
+  Promise never to play the fool that way again. Promise the
+  everlasting God's truth, or here you go."<br>
+  <br>
+  The boy's clutch tightened on Santan's throat. "By all that's
+  holy, you'll go to your happy hunting-ground <i>right now, unless
+  you do</i>!" He growled out the words, and his blazing eyes
+  glared threateningly at his fallen enemy.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I promise!" Santan muttered, gasping for breath.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You didn't mean to kill the nun? Then you'll go with me and ask
+  her to forgive you before she dies. You will. You needn't try to
+  get away from me. I let you thrash your strength out before we
+  came to this settlement. Be still!" Beverly commanded, as Santan
+  made a mad effort to release himself.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Hurry up, and remember she is dying. Go softly and speak gently,
+  or by the God of heaven, you'll go with her to the Judgment Seat
+  to answer for that deed right now!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Slowly the two rose. Their clothes were torn, their hair
+  disheveled, the ground at their feet was red with their blood.
+  They were as bitter, as distrustful now as when their struggle
+  began. For brute force never conquers anything. It can only hold
+  in check by fear of its power to destroy the body. Above the iron
+  fist of the fighter, and the sword and cannon of the soldier,
+  stands the risen Christ who carried his own cross up Mount
+  Calvary--and "there they crucified him."<br>
+  <br>
+  The two young men, spent with their struggle, their faces stained
+  with dirt and bloody sweat, crossed the river and sought the
+  shadowy place where Little Blue Flower sat beside Sister Anita.
+  Twice Santan tried to escape, and twice Beverly brought him
+  quickly to his place. It must have been here that I caught sight
+  of them from the rock above.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more move like that and the ghost of Sister Anita will walk
+  behind you on every trail you follow as long as your flat feet
+  hit the earth," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All Indians are afraid of ghosts and I was just too tired to
+  fight any more," he said to me afterward when he told me the
+  story of that hour by the San Christobal River.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita lay with wide-open eyes, her hands moving feebly as
+  she clutched at her crucifix. Her hour was almost spent.<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan stood motionless before her, as Beverly with a grip on his
+  arm said, firmly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell her you did not aim at her, and ask her to forgive you. It
+  will help to save your own soul sometime, maybe."<br>
+  <br>
+  Santan looked at Little Blue Flower. But she gave no heed to him
+  as she put the dropped crucifix into the weakening fingers.
+  Murder, as such, is as horrifying to the gentle Hopi tribe as it
+  is sport for the cruel Apache.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly loosed his hold now.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I did not want to hurt you. Forgive me!" Santan said, slowly, as
+  though each word were plucked from him by red-hot pincers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Sister Anita heard and turned her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Kneel down and tell her again," Beverly said, more gently.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Apache dropped on his knees beside the dying woman and
+  repeated his words. Sister Anita smiled sweetly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Heaven will forgive you even as I do," she murmured, and closed
+  her eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Go softly. This is sacred ground," my cousin said.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian rose and passed silently down the trail, leaving
+  Little Blue Flower and Beverly Clarenden together with the dead.
+  At the stream he paused and pulled his knife from the sands
+  beneath the trickling waters, and then went on his way.<br>
+  <br>
+  But an Indian never forgets.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane, who had hurried hither from the chapel, closed the
+  eyes and folded the thin hands of the martyred woman, and sent
+  Beverly forward for help to dispose of the garment of clay that
+  had been Sister Anita. From that day something manly and serious
+  came into Beverly Clarenden's face to stay, but his sense of
+  humor and his fearlessness were unchanged.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a solemn hour in the shadow of the rock down in that
+  yellow valley, but beautiful in its forgiving triumph. We who had
+  gathered in the dimly lighted chapel had an hour more solemn for
+  that it was made up of such dramatic minutes as change the trend
+  of life-trails for all the years to come.<br>
+  <br>
+  The chapel was very old. They tell me that only a broken portion
+  of the circular wall about the altar stands there to-day, a
+  lonely monument to some holy padre's faith and courage and
+  sacrifice in the forgotten years when, in far Hesperia, men
+  dreamed of a Quivera and found only a Calvary.<br>
+  <br>
+  It may be that I, Gail Clarenden, was also changed as I listened
+  to the deliberations of that day; that something of youth gave
+  place for the stronger manhood that should stay me through the
+  years that came after.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come
+  back to it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and
+  rough climb among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled
+  carelessly on her white brow and rippled about her shapely head.
+  I used to wonder what setting fitted her beauty best--why wonder
+  that about any beautiful woman?--but the gracious loveliness of
+  this woman was never more appealing to me than in the soft light
+  and sacred atmosphere of the church.<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water
+  and coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we
+  came in to his presence.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a
+  child I tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a
+  woman, you must still be protected, but you must live your own
+  life and choose for yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be
+  crushed by it. You must take up your cross and bear it. It is for
+  this that I have called you back to New Mexico at this time. But
+  remember, my daughter, that life is not given to us for defeat,
+  but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles; not for idle
+  cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."<br>
+  <br>
+  I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years
+  were full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had
+  brought him to the priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of
+  Father Josef's voice, somehow, to me, he stood for success, not
+  failure.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise bowed her head and listened.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own
+  heritage, nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has
+  been offered a bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies
+  no altars nor extends the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ.
+  Your property is your own to use for the holy purposes of a
+  goodly life wherever your days may lead you; and whatever the
+  civil law may grant of power to control it for you, you shall no
+  longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that it shall
+  henceforth be yours."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to
+  Ferdinand Ramero.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this
+  estate, whose revenue made your father and yourself to be
+  accounted rich, and upon which your son has been allowed to build
+  up a life expectation; and though on account of it, you go forth
+  a poor man in wordly goods, you may go out rich in the blessing
+  of restoration and repentance."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero's steel eyes were fixed like the eyes of a snake
+  on the holy man's face. Restoration and repentance do not belong
+  behind eyes like that.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can fight you in the courts. You and your Church may go to the
+  devil;" he seemed to hiss rather than to speak these words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We do go to him every day to bring back souls like yours,"
+  Father Josef's voice was calm. "I have waited a long time for you
+  to repent. You can go to the courts, but you will not do it. For
+  the sake of your wife, Gloria Ramero, and Felix Narveo, her
+  brother, we do not move against you, and you dare not move for
+  yourself, because your own record will not bear the light of
+  legal investigation."<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero sprang up, the blaze of passion, uncontrolled
+  through all his years, bursting forth in the tragedy of the hour.
+  Eloise was right. In his anger he was a maniac.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You dare to threaten me! You pen me in a corner to stab me to
+  death! You hold disgrace and miserable poverty over my head, and
+  cant of restoration and repentance! Not until here you name each
+  thing that you count against me, and I have met them point by
+  point, will I restore. I never will repent!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In the vehemence of anger, Ramero was the embodiment of the
+  dramatic force of unrestraint, and withal he was handsome, with a
+  controlling magnetism even in his hour of downfall.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo had said that Father Josef had somewhere back a strain of
+  Indian blood in his veins. It must have been this that gave the
+  fiber of self control to his countenance as he looked with
+  pitying eyes at Jondo and Eloise St. Vrain.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The hour is struck," he said, sadly. "And you shall hear your
+  record, point by point, because you ask it now. First: you have
+  retained, controlled, misused, and at last embezzled the fortune
+  of Theron St. Vrain, as it was retained, controlled, misused, and
+  embezzled by your father, Henry Ramer, in his lifetime. Any case
+  in civil courts must show how the heritage of Eloise St. Vrain,
+  heir to Theron St. Vrain at the death of her mother--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not until the death of her mother--" Ferdinand Ramero broke in,
+  hoarsely.<br>
+  <br>
+  For the first time to-day the priest's cheek paled, but his voice
+  was unbroken as he continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I would have been kinder for your own sake. You desire
+  otherwise. Yes, only after the death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain
+  could you dictate concerning her daughter's affairs, with most
+  questionable legality even then. Mary Marchland St. Vrain is not
+  dead."<br>
+  <br>
+  The chapel was as silent as the grave. My heart stood still.
+  Before me was Jondo, big, strong, self-controlled, inured to the
+  tragic deeds of the epic years of the West. No pen of mine will
+  ever make the picture of Jondo's face at these words of Father
+  Josef.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise turned deathly pale, and her dark eyes opened wide, seeing
+  nothing. It was not I who comforted her, but Jondo, who put his
+  strong arm about her, and she leaned against his shoulder. Father
+  and daughter in spirit, stricken to the heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  "For many years she has lived in that lonely ranch-house on the
+  Narveo grant in the little ca&ntilde;on up the San Christobal
+  Arroyo. When the fever left her with memory darkened forever, you
+  recorded her as dead. But your wife, Gloria Ramero, spared no
+  pains to make her comfortable. She has never known a want, nor
+  lived through one unhappy hour, because she has forgotten."<br>
+  <br>
+  "A priest, confessor for men's inmost souls, who babbles all he
+  knows! I wonder that this roof does not fall on you and strike
+  you dead before this altar." Ferdinand Ramero's voice rose to a
+  shout.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was too strongly built by one who knew men's inmost souls,
+  and what they needed most," Father Josef replied. "You drove me
+  to this by your insistence. I would have shielded you--and
+  these."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned to Eloise and Jondo as he spoke.<br>
+  <br>
+  "One more point, since you hold it ready to spring when I am
+  through. You stand accused of plotting for your father's murder.
+  The evidence still holds, and some men who rode with you to-day
+  to seize this gentle girl and drag her back to a marriage with
+  your son--and save your ill-gotten gold thereby--some of these
+  men who will confess to me and do penance to-morrow night, are
+  the same men who long ago confessed to other crimes--you can
+  guess what they were.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It pays well to repent before such a holy tattler as yourself."
+  Ramero's blue eyes burned deep as their fire was centered on the
+  priest.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These are the counts against you," Father Josef said in review,
+  ignoring the last outburst of wrath. "A life of ease and
+  inheritance through money not your own, nor even rightly yours to
+  control. A stricken woman listed with the dead, whose memory
+  might have come again--God knows--if but the loving touch of
+  childish hands had long ago been on her hands. It is years too
+  late for all that now. A brave young ward rescued from your
+  direct control by Esmond Clarenden's force of will and daring to
+  do the right. You know that last pleading cry of Mary
+  Marchland's, for Jondo to protect her child, and how Clarenden,
+  for love of this brave man, came to New Mexico on perilous trails
+  to take the little Eloise from you. And lastly in this matter,
+  the threats to force a marriage unholy in God's sight, because no
+  love could go with it. Your mad chase and villainous intention to
+  use brute force to secure your will out yonder on the rocks above
+  the cliff. You have debauched an Apache boy, making him your tool
+  and spy. You sanctioned the seizing of a Hopi girl whose parents
+  you permitted to be murdered, and their child sold into slavery
+  among foreign tribes. You have stirred up and kept alive a feud
+  of hatred and revenge among the Kiowa people against the life and
+  property of Esmond Clarenden and all who belong to him. And,
+  added to all these, you stand to-day a patricide in spirit,
+  accused of plotting for the murder of your own father. Do not
+  these things call for restoration and repentance?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero rose to his feet and stood in the aisle near the
+  door. His face hardened, and all the suave polish and cool
+  concentration and dominant magnetism fell away. What remained was
+  the man as shaped by the ruling passions of years, from whose
+  control only divine power could bring deliverance. And when he
+  spoke there was a remorseless cruelty and selfishness in his low,
+  even tones.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have called me a plotter for my father's life--based on some
+  lying Mexican's love of blackmail. You do not even try to prove
+  your charge. The man who would have killed him was Theron St.
+  Vrain, and his brother, Bertrand. That Theron was disgraced by
+  the fact you know very well, and the blackness of it drove him to
+  an early grave. So this young lady here, whom I would have
+  shielded from this stain upon her name in the marriage to my son,
+  may know the truth about her father. He was what you, Father
+  Josef, try to prove me to be."<br>
+  <br>
+  He paused as if to gather venom for his last shaft.<br>
+  <br>
+  "These two, Theron and Bertrand, were equally guilty, but through
+  tricks of their own, Theron escaped and Bertrand took the whole
+  crime on himself. He disappeared and paid the penalty by his
+  death. His body was recovered from the river and placed in an
+  unmarked grave. Why go back to that now? Because Bertrand St.
+  Vrain's clothes alone on some poor drowned unknown man were
+  buried. Bertrand himself sits here beside his niece, Eloise St.
+  Vrain. John Doe to the world, the man who lives without a name,
+  and dares not sign a business document, a walking dead man. I
+  could even pity him if he were real. But who can pity
+  nothing?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A look of defiance came into the man's glittering eyes as he took
+  one step nearer to the door and continued:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Esmond Clarenden drove me out of the United States with threats
+  of implicating me in the death of my father, and I knew his power
+  and brutal daring to do anything he chose to do. It was but his
+  wish to have revenge for this nameless thing--"<br>
+  <br>
+  The scorn of Ramero's eyes and voice as he looked at Jondo were
+  withering.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And this thing keeps me here by threats of attacks, even when he
+  knows that by such attacks he will reveal himself. It has been a
+  grim game." Something of a grin showed all of the man's fine
+  teeth. "A grim game, and never played to a finish till now. I
+  leave it to you, Father Josef, to judge who has been the stronger
+  and who comes out of it victor. I make restoration--of what? I
+  leave the St. Vrain money that I have guarded for Eloise, the
+  daughter of the man who killed, or helped to kill, my father. You
+  can control it now, among you: Clarenden, already rich; your
+  Church, notorious in its robbery of the poor by enriching its
+  coffers; or this uncle here, who is dead and buried in an unknown
+  grave. That is all the restoration I can make. Repentance, I do
+  not know what that word means. Keep it for the poor devils you
+  will gather in to-morrow night to be shriven. They need it. I do
+  not."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned and strode out of the church and, mounting his horse,
+  rode like a madman up the yellow valley of the San Christobal. In
+  after years I could find no term to so well describe that last
+  act as the words of Beverly Clarenden, who came to the chapel
+  just in time to hear Ferdinand Ramero's closing declaration, and
+  to see his black scowl and scornful air, as, in a royal madness,
+  he defied the power of man and denounced the all-pitying love
+  that is big enough for the most sinful.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was Paradise lost," Beverly declared, "and Satan falling
+  clear to hell before the Archangel's flaming sword. Only he went
+  east and the real Satan dropped down to his place. But they will
+  meet up somewhere, Ramero and the real one, and not be able to
+  tell each other apart."<br>
+  <br>
+  And Jondo. My boyhood idol, brave, gentle, unselfish, able
+  everywhere! Jondo, who had kept my toddling feet from stumbling,
+  who had taught me to ride and swim and shoot, who had made me
+  wise in plains lore, and manly and clean among the rough and
+  vulgar things of the Missouri frontier. Jondo, whose big, cool
+  hand had touched my feverish face, whose deep blue eyes had
+  looked love into my eyes when I lay dying on Pawnee Rock! A man
+  without a name! A murderer who had by a trick escaped the law,
+  and must walk evermore unknown among his fellow-men! Something
+  went out of my life as I looked at him. The boy in me was burned
+  and seared away, and only the man-to-be, was left.<br>
+  <br>
+  He offered no word of defense from the accusation against him,
+  nor made a plea of innocence, but sat looking straight at Father
+  Josef, who looked at him as if expecting nothing. And as they
+  gazed into each other's eyes, a something strong and beautiful
+  swept the face of each. I could not understand it, and I was
+  young. My lifetime hero had turned to nothingness before my eyes.
+  The world was full of evil. I hated it and all that in it was, my
+  trusting, foolish, short-sighted self most of all.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Eloise--the heart of woman is past understanding--Eloise
+  turned to the man beside her and, putting both arms around his
+  neck, she pressed one fair cheek against his brown bearded one,
+  and kissed him gently on the forehead. Then turning to Father
+  Josef, no longer the dependent, clinging maiden, but the loving
+  woman, strong and sure of will, she said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I must go to my mother. So long as she lives I will never leave
+  her again."<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not even look at me, nor speak a word of farewell, as if
+  I were the murderer instead of that man, Jondo, whom she had
+  kissed.<br>
+  <br>
+  I saw her ride away, with Little Blue Flower beside her. I saw
+  the green mesa, the red cliffs above the growing things, the
+  glitter of the San Christobal water on yellow sands, the level
+  plain where the narrow white trail crept far away toward Gloria
+  Narveo's lonely ranch-house, strong as a fort built a hundred
+  years ago, in a little ca&ntilde;on of the valley. I saw a young,
+  graceful figure on horseback, and the glint of sunlight on golden
+  hair. But the rider did not turn her head and I could not get one
+  glance of those beautiful dark eyes. A great mass of rock hid the
+  line of the trail, and the two, Eloise and Little Blue Flower,
+  rounded the angle and rode on out of my sight.<br>
+  <br>
+  I helped to dig open the curly mesquite and to shovel out the
+  sand. I heard the burial service, and saw a rudely coffined form
+  lowered into an open grave. I saw Rex Krane at the head, and
+  Jondo at the foot, and Beverly's bleeding hands as he scraped the
+  loose earth back and heaped it over that which had been called
+  Sister Anita; I heard Father Josef's voice of music repeating the
+  "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." And then we turned away and
+  left the spot, as men turn every day to the common affairs of
+  life.<br>
+  <br>
+  Four days later Little Blue Flower came to me as I, still numb
+  and cold and blankly unthinking, sat beside Fort Marcy and looked
+  out with unseeing eyes at the glory of a New-Mexican sunset.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I come from Eloise." The sadness of her face and voice even the
+  Indian's self-control could not conceal.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She is sad, but brave, and her mother loves her and calls her
+  'Little One.' She will never grow up to her mother. But"--Little
+  Blue Flower's voice faltered and she gazed out at the far Sandia
+  peaks wrapped in the rich purple folds of twilight, with the
+  scarlet of the afterglow beyond them--"Eloise loves Beverly. She
+  will always love him. Heaven meant him for her." There were some
+  other broken sentences, but I did not grasp them clearly
+  then.<br>
+  <br>
+  The world was full of gray shadows. The finishing touches had
+  been put on life for me. I looked out at the dying glow in the
+  west, and wondered vaguely if the sun would ever cross the
+  Gloriettas again, or ever the Sangre-de-Christo grow radiant with
+  the scarlet stain of that ineffable beauty that uplifts and
+  purifies the soul of him who looks on it. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII">XVII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  SWEET AND BITTER WATERS</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Trust me, it is something to be cast<br>
+  Face to face with one's self at last,<br>
+  To be taken out of the fuss and strife,<br>
+  The endless clatter of plate and knife,<br>
+  The bore of books, and the bores of the street,<br>
+  And to be set down on one's own two feet<br>
+      So nigh to the great warm heart of God,<br>
+  You almost seem to feel it beat<br>
+      Down from the sunshine, and up from the sod.<br>
+                              JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  My hair is very white now, and my fingers hold a pen more easily
+  than they could hold the ox-goad or the rifle, and mine to-day is
+  all the backward look. Which look is evermore a satisfying thing
+  because it takes in all of life behind in its true proportion,
+  where the forward look of youth sees only what comes next and
+  nothing more. And looking back to-day it seems that, of the many
+  times I walked the long miles of that old Santa Fe Trail, no
+  journey over it stands out quite so clear-cut in my memory as the
+  home trip after I had watched the going away of Eloise, and
+  witnessed the flight of Ferdinand Ramero, and listened to the
+  story of Jondo's life.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Little Blue Flower left me sitting beside Fort Marcy's wall
+  my mind went back in swift review over the flight of days since
+  Beverly Clarenden and I had come from Cincinnati. I recalled the
+  first meeting of Eloise with my cousin. How easily they had
+  renewed acquaintance. I had been surprised and embarrassed and
+  awkward when I found her and Little Blue Flower down by the Flat
+  Rock below St. Ann's, in the Moon of the Peach Blossom. I
+  remembered how I had monopolized all of her time in the days that
+  followed, leaving good-natured Bev to look after the little
+  Indian girl who never really seemed like an Indian to him. And
+  keen-piercing as an arrow came now the memory of that midnight
+  hour when I had seen the two in the little side porch of the
+  Clarenden home, and again I heard the sorrowful words:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Beverly, it breaks my heart."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise had just seen Beverly kiss Little Blue Flower in the
+  shadows of the porch. And all the while, good-hearted, generous
+  boy that he was, he had never tried to push his suit with her,
+  had made her love him more, no doubt, by letting me have full
+  command of all of her time, while he forgot himself in showing
+  courtesy to the Indian girl, because Bev was first of all a
+  gentleman. I thought of that dear hour in the church of San
+  Miguel. Of course, Eloise was glad to find me there--poor,
+  hunted, frightened child! She would have been as glad, no doubt,
+  to have found big Bill Banney or Rex Krane, and I had thought her
+  eyes held something just for me that night. She had not seen
+  Beverly at the chapel beside the San Christobal River, and to me
+  she had not given even a parting glance when she went away. If
+  she had cared for me at all she would not have left me so. And I
+  had climbed the tortuous trail with her and stood beside her in
+  the zone of sanctuary safety that Father Josef had thrown about
+  us two.<br>
+  <br>
+  These things were clear enough to me, but when I tried to think
+  again of all that Little Blue Flower had said an hour ago my mind
+  went numb:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Her mother knew her, but only as the little Eloise long lost and
+  never missed till now. The mother, too, was very beautiful, and
+  young in face, and child-like in her helplessness. The lonely
+  ranch-house, old, and strong as a fort, girt round by tall
+  ca&ntilde;on walls, nestled in a grassy open place; and not a
+  comfort had been denied the woman there. For Gloria Ramero,
+  Ferdinand's wife, had governed that. And Eloise had entered there
+  to stay. This much was clear enough. But that which followed
+  seemed to twist and writhe about in my mind with only one thing
+  sure--Eloise loved Beverly, would always love him. And he could
+  not love any one else. He could be kind to any girl, but he would
+  not be happy. Some day when he was older--a real man--then he
+  would long for the girl of his heart and his own choice, and he
+  would find her and love her, too, and she would love him and
+  those who stood between them they both would hate. And Eloise
+  loved Beverly. She could not send Gail any words herself, but he
+  would understand."<br>
+  <br>
+  So came the Indian girl's interpretation of the case, but the
+  conclusion was the message meant for me. I wondered vaguely, as I
+  sat there, if the vision had come to Beverly years ago as it had
+  come to me: three men--the soldier on his cavalry mount, Jondo,
+  the plainsman, on his big black horse, and between the two,
+  Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor on foot, but going forward
+  somehow, steady and sure. And beyond these three, this side of
+  misty mountain peaks, the cloud of golden hair, the sweet face,
+  with dark eyes looking into mine. I had not been a dreamer, I had
+  been a fool.<br>
+  <br>
+  Through Beverly I learned the next day that Ferdinand Ramero had
+  come into Santa F&eacute; late at night and had left early the
+  next morning. Marcos Ramero, faultlessly dressed, lounged about
+  the gambling-halls, and strolled through the sunny Plaza, idly
+  and insolently, as was his custom. But Gloria Ramero, to whom
+  Marcos long ago ceased to be more than coldly courteous, had left
+  the city at once for the San Christobal Valley, to devote herself
+  to the care of the beautiful woman whom her brother Felix Narveo
+  in his college days had admired so much.<br>
+  <br>
+  As for Jondo, years ago when we had met Father Josef out by the
+  sandy arroyo, he had left us to follow the good man somewhere,
+  and had not come back to the Exchange Hotel until nightfall.
+  Something had come into his face that day that never left it
+  again. And now that something had deepened in the glance of his
+  eye and the firm-set mouth. It was through that meeting with
+  Father Josef that he had first heard of the supposed death of
+  Mary Marchland St. Vrain, and it was through the priest in the
+  chapel he had heard that she was still alive.<br>
+  <br>
+  Neither Beverly nor Bill Banney nor Rex Krane knew what I had
+  heard in the church concerning Jondo's early career, and I never
+  spoke of it to them. But to all of us, outside of that
+  intensified something indefinable in his face, he was unchanged.
+  He met my eye with the open, frank glance with which he met the
+  gaze of all men. His smile was no less engaging and his manner
+  remained the same--fearless, unsuspicious, definite in serious
+  affairs, good-natured and companionable in everything. I could
+  not read him now, by one little line, but back of everything lay
+  that withering, grievous thought--he was a murderer. Heaven pity
+  the boy when his idol falls, and if he be a dreaming idealist the
+  hurt is tenfold deeper.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet--the trail was waiting there to teach me many things, and
+  Jondo's words rang through the aisles of my brain:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the open
+  plains and the green prairies, and the danger stimulus of the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften
+  your hard, rebellious heart, and make you see things big, and
+  despise the little crooks in your path."<br>
+  <br>
+  Our Conestoga wagons, with their mule-teams, and the few ponies
+  for scout service, followed the old trail out of the valley of
+  the Rio Grande to the tablelands eastward, up the steep sidling
+  way into the passes of the Glorietta Mountains, down through
+  lone, wind-swept ca&ntilde;ons, and on between wild, scarred
+  hills, coming, at last, beyond the picturesque ridges,
+  snow-crowned and mesa-guarded, into the long, gray, waterless
+  lands of the Cimmarron country. Here we journeyed along
+  monotonous levels that rose and fell unnoted because of lack of
+  landmarks to measure by, only the broad, beaten Santa F&eacute;
+  Trail stretched on unbending, unchanging, uneffaceable.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the distance from spring to spring decreased, every drop of
+  water grew precious, and we pushed on, eager to reach the richer
+  prairies of the Arkansas Valley. Suddenly in the monotony of the
+  way, and the increasing calls of thirst, there came a sense of
+  danger, the plains-old danger of the Comanche on the Cimarron
+  Trail. Bill Banney caught it first--just a faint sign of one
+  hostile track. All the next day Jondo scouted far, coming into
+  camp at nightfall with a grave report.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The water-supply is failing," he told us, "and there is
+  something wrong out there. The Comanches are hovering near,
+  that's certain, and there is a single trail that doesn't look
+  Comanche to me that I can't account for. All we can do is to
+  'hold fast,'" he added, with his cheery smile that never failed
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night I could not sleep, and the stars and I stared long at
+  each other. They were so golden and so far away. And one, as I
+  looked, slipped from its place and trailed wide across the sky
+  until it vanished, leaving a stream of golden light that lingered
+  before my eyes. I thought of the trail in the San Christobal
+  Valley, and again I saw the sunlight on golden hair as Eloise
+  with Little Blue Flower passed out of sight around the shoulder
+  of a great rock beside the way. At last came sleep, and in my
+  dreams Eloise was beside me as she had been in the church of San
+  Miguel, her dark eyes looking up into mine. I knew, in my dream,
+  that I was dreaming and I did not want to waken. For, "Eloise
+  loved Beverly, would always love him." Little Blue Flower had
+  said it. The face was far away, this side of misty mountain
+  peaks, and farther still. I could see only the eyes looking at
+  me. I wakened to see only the stars looking at me. I slept again
+  deeply and dreamlessly, and wakened suddenly. We were far and
+  away from the Apache country, but there, for just one instant, a
+  face came close to mine--the face of Santan--the Apache. It
+  vanished instantly as it had come. The night guard passed by me
+  and crossed the camp. The stars held firm above me. I had had
+  another dream. But after that I did not sleep till dawn.<br>
+  <br>
+  The day was very hot, with the scorching breeze of the plains
+  that sears the very eyeballs dry. Through the dust and glare we
+  pressed on over long, white, monotonous miles. Hovering near us
+  somewhere were the Comanches--waiting; with us was burning
+  thirst; ahead of us ran the taunting mirage--cool, sparkling
+  water rippling between green banks--receding as we approached,
+  maddening us by the suggestion of its refreshing picture, the
+  while we knew it was only a picture. For it is Satan's own
+  painting on the desert to let men know that Dante's dream is mild
+  compared to the real art of torment. Men and animals began to
+  give way under the day's burden, and we moved slowly. In times
+  like these Jondo stayed with the train, sending Bill Banney and
+  Beverly scouting ahead. That was the longest day that I ever
+  lived on the Santa F&eacute; Trail, although I followed its miles
+  many times in the best of its freighting years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The weary hours dragged at last toward evening, and a dozen signs
+  in plains lore told us that water must be near. As we topped a
+  low swell at the bottom of whose long slide lay the little oasis
+  we were seeking, we came upon Bill Banney's pony lying dead
+  across the trail. And near it Bill himself, with bloated face and
+  bleared eyes, muttering half-coherently:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Water-hole! Poison! Don't drink!"<br>
+  <br>
+  And then he babbled of the muddy Missouri, and the Kentucky blue
+  grass, and cold mountain springs in the passes of the Gloriettas,
+  warning us thickly of "death down there."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Down there," beside the little spring shelved in by shale at the
+  lower edge of the swell, we found a tiny cairn built of clumps of
+  sod and bits of shale. Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's
+  note-book with the words </p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very
+  far on.--BILL.</p>
+
+  <p>So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach
+  us. But for fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning
+  and left it here. Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round
+  the place and threshed the ground in agony when he tried to mount
+  his poisoned pony, and his first thought was for us. The plains
+  made men see big. Jondo had told me they could do it. Poor Bill,
+  moaning for water now and tossing in agony in Jondo's wagon! The
+  Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we hated them as
+  we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had
+  a mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching
+  glance.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope.
+  Come, Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch
+  of coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided
+  draw across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face
+  downward beside a dead pony. We scrambled down, shattering the
+  dry earth after us as we went. Jondo gently lifted the body and
+  turned it face upward. It was Ferdinand Ramero.<br>
+  <br>
+  The big plainsman did not cry out, nor drop his hold, but his
+  face turned gray, and only the dying man saw the look in the blue
+  eyes gazing into his. Ramero tried to draw away, fear, and hate,
+  and the old dominant will that ruled his life, strong still in
+  death. As he lay at the feet of the man whose life hopes he had
+  blasted, he expected no mercy and asked for none.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have me at last. I didn't put the poison in that spring. I
+  would not have drunk it if I had. It was the one below I fixed
+  for you. And I'm in your power now. Be quick about it."<br>
+  <br>
+  For one long minute Jondo looked down at his enemy. Then he
+  lifted his eyes to mine with the victory of "him that overcometh"
+  shining in their blue depths.<br>
+  <br>
+  "If I could make you live, I'd do it, Fred. If you have any word
+  to say, be quick about it now. Your time is short."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sweetness of that gentle voice I hear sometimes to-day in the
+  low notes of song-birds, and the gentle swish of refreshing
+  summer showers.<br>
+  <br>
+  Ferdinand Ramero lifted his cold blue eyes and looked at the man
+  bending over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Leave me here--forgotten--"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not of God. His Mercy endureth forever," Jondo replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  But there was no repentance, no softening of the hard, imperious
+  heart.<br>
+  <br>
+  We left him there, pulling down the loose earth from the steep
+  sides of the draw to cover him from all the frowning elements of
+  the plains. And when we went back to the waiting train Jondo
+  reported, grimly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "<i>No enemy in sight</i>."<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid Bill Banney beside the poisoned spring, from whose bitter
+  waters he had saved our lives. So martyrs filled the unknown
+  graves that made the milestones of the way in the days of
+  commerce-building on the old Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next spring was not far ahead, as Bill's note had said, but
+  the stars were thick above us and the desolate land was full of
+  shadows before we reached it--a thirst-mad, heart-sore crowd
+  trailing slowly on through the gloom of the night.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly was waiting for us and the refreshing moisture of the air
+  above a spring seemed about him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought you'd never come. Where's Bill? There's water here. I
+  made the spring myself," he shouted, as we came near.<br>
+  <br>
+  The spring that he had digged for us was in the sandy bed of a
+  dry stream, with low, earth-banks on either side. It was full of
+  water, hardly clear, but plentiful, and slowly washing out a
+  bigger pool for itself as it seeped forth.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is poison in the real spring down there." Beverly pointed
+  toward the diminished fountain we had expected to find. "I've
+  worked since noon at this."<br>
+  <br>
+  We drank, and life came back to us. We pitched camp, and then
+  listened to Beverly's story of the sweet and bitter waters of the
+  trail that day. And all the while it seemed as if Bill Banney was
+  just out of sight and might come galloping in at any moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You know what happened up the trail," my cousin said, sadly.
+  "Bill was ahead of me and he drank first, and galloped back to
+  warn me and beg me to come on for water. I thought I could get
+  down here and take some water back to Bill in time. It's all
+  shale up there. No place to dig above, nor below, even if one
+  dared to dig below that poison. But I found a dead coyote that
+  had just left here, and all springs began to look Comanche to me.
+  I lariated my pony and crept down under the bank there to think
+  and rest. Everything went poison-spotted before my eyes."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where's your pony now, Bev?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know sure, but I expect he is about going over the Raton
+  Pass by this time," Beverly replied. "Down there things seemed to
+  swim around me like water everywhere and I knew I'd got to stir.
+  Just then an Indian came slipping up from somewhere to the spring
+  to drink. He didn't look right to me at all, but I couldn't sit
+  still and see him kill himself. If he needed killing I could have
+  done it for him, for he never saw me. Just as he stooped I saw
+  his face. It was that Apache--Santan--the wander-foot, for I
+  never heard of an Apache getting so far from the mountains. I
+  ought to have kept still, Jondo"--Beverly's ready smile came to
+  his face--"but I'd made that fellow swear he'd let me eternally
+  alone when we had our little fracas up by the San Christobal
+  Arroyo, so something like conscience, mean as the stomach-ache,
+  made me call out:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Don't drink there; it's poison.'<br>
+  <br>
+  "He stopped and stared at me a minute, or ten minutes--I didn't
+  count time on him--and then he said, slow-like:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'It's the spring west that is poisoned. I put it there for you.
+  You will not see your men again. They will drink and die. Who put
+  this poison here?'<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Lord knows. I didn't,' I told him. 'Two of you carrying poison
+  are two too many for the Cimarron country.'<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I hadn't any more conscience after that, but I was faint and
+  slow, and my aim was bad for eels. He could have fixed me right
+  then, but for some reason he didn't."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face grew sad.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He made six jumps six ways, and caught my pony's lariat. I can
+  hear his yell still as he tore a hole in the horizon and jumped
+  right through. Then I began on that spring. 'Dig or die. Dig or
+  die.' I said over and over, and we are all here but Bill. I wish
+  I'd got that Apache, though."<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo and I looked at each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The thing is clear now," he said, aside to me. "That single
+  trail I found back yonder day before yesterday was Santan's
+  running on ahead of us to poison the water for us and then steal
+  a horse and make his way back to the mountains. An Apache can
+  live on this cactus-covered sand the same as a rattlesnake. He
+  fixed the upper spring and came down here to drink. Only
+  Beverly's conscience saved him here. Heaven knows how Fred Ramer
+  got out here. He may have come with some Mexicans on ahead of us
+  and left them here to drop his poison in this lower spring. Then
+  he turned back toward Santa F&eacute; and found his doom up there
+  at Santan's spring.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm like Bev. I wish he had gotten the Apache, now. I don't know
+  yet how I was fooled in him, for he has always been Fred Ramer's
+  tool, and Father Josef never trusted him. And to think that Bill
+  Banney, in no way touching any of our lives, should have been
+  martyred by the crimes of Fred and this Apache! But that's the
+  old, old story of the trail. Poor Bill! I hope his sleep will be
+  sweet out in this desolate land. We'll meet him later
+  somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  The winds must have carried the tale of poisoned water across the
+  Cimarron country, for the Comanches' trail left ours from that
+  day. Through threescore and ten miles to the Arkansas River we
+  came, and there was not a well nor spring nor sign of water in
+  all that distance. What water we had we carried with us from the
+  Cimarron fountains. But the sturdy endurance of the days was not
+  without its help to me. And the wide, wind-swept prairies of
+  Kansas taught me many things. In the lonely, beautiful land,
+  through long bright days and starlit nights, I began to see
+  things bigger than my own selfish measure had reckoned. I thought
+  of Esmond Clarenden and his large scheme of business; Felix
+  Narveo, the true-hearted friend; and of Father Josef and his life
+  of devotion. And I lived with Jondo every day. I could not forget
+  the hour in the little ruined chapel in the San Christobal
+  Valley, and how he himself had made no effort to clear his own
+  name. But I remembered, too, that Father Josef, mercilessly just
+  to Ferdinand Ramero, had not even asked Jondo to defend himself
+  from the black charge against him.<br>
+  <br>
+  The sunny Kansas prairies, the far open plains, and the wild
+  mountain trails beyond, had brought their blessing to Jondo,
+  whose life had known so much of tragedy. And my cross was just my
+  love for a girl who could not love me. That was all. Jondo had
+  never forgotten nor ceased to love the mother of Eloise St.
+  Vrain. I should be like Jondo in this. But the world is wide.
+  Life is full of big things. Henceforth, while I would not forget,
+  I, too, would be big and strong, and maybe, some time, just as
+  sunny-faced as my big Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  The trail life, day by day, did bring its blessing to me. The
+  clear, open land, the far-sweeping winds, the solitude for
+  thought, the bravery and gentleness of the rough men who walked
+  the miles with me, the splendor of the day-dawn, the beauty of
+  the sunset, the peace of the still starlit night, sealed up my
+  wounds, and I began to live for others and to forget myself; to
+  dream less often, and to work more gladly; to measure men, not by
+  what had been, but by how they met what was to be done.<br>
+  <br>
+  From all the frontier life, rough-hewn and coarse, the elements
+  came that helped to make the big brave West to-day, and I know
+  now that not the least of source and growth of power for these
+  came out of the strength and strife of the things known only to
+  the men who followed the Santa F&eacute; Trail. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h1>III<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="DEFENDING" id="DEFENDING">DEFENDING THE TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="XVIII" id="XVIII">XVIII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  The mind hath a thousand eyes,<br>
+  And the heart but one.<br>
+                              --BOURDILLON.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  Busy years, each one a dramatic era all its own, made up the
+  annals of the Middle West as the nation began to feel the thrill
+  for expansion in its pulse-beat. The territorial days of Kansas
+  were big with the tragic events of border warfare, and her birth
+  into statehood marked the commencement of the four years of civil
+  strife whose record played a mighty part in shaping human
+  destiny.<br>
+  <br>
+  Meanwhile the sunny Kansas prairies lay waiting for the
+  hearthstone and the plow. And young men, trained in camp and
+  battle-field, looked westward for adventure, fortune, future
+  homes and fame. But the tribes, whose hunting-grounds had been
+  the green and grassy plains, yielded slowly, foot by foot, their
+  stubborn claim, marking in human blood the price of each acre of
+  the prairie sod. The lonely homesteads were the prey of savage
+  bands, and the old Santa F&eacute; Trail, always a way of danger,
+  became doubly perilous now to the men who drove the vans of
+  commerce along its broad, defenseless miles. The frontier forts
+  increased: Hays and Harker, Larned and Zarah, and Lyon and Dodge
+  became outposts of power in the wilderness, whose half-forgotten
+  sites to-day lie buried under broad pasture-lands and fields of
+  waving grain.<br>
+  <br>
+  One June day, as the train rolled through the Missouri woodlands
+  along rugged river bluffs, Beverly Clarenden and I looked eagerly
+  out of the car window, watching for signs of home. It was two
+  years after the close of the Civil War. We had just finished six
+  years of Federal service and were coming back to Kansas City. We
+  were young men still, with all the unsettled spirit that follows
+  the laying aside of active military life for the wholesome but
+  uneventful life of peace.<br>
+  <br>
+  The time of our arrival had been uncertain, and the Clarenden
+  household had been taken by surprise at our coming.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I wonder how it will seem to settle down in a store, Bev, after
+  toting shooting-irons for six years," I said to my cousin, as the
+  train neared Kansas City.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know," Beverly replied, with a yawn, "but I'm thinking
+  that after we see all the folks, and play with Mat's little boys
+  awhile, and eat Aunty Boone's good stuff till we begin to get
+  flabby-cheeked and soft-muscled, and our jaws crack from smiling
+  so much when we just naturally want to get out and cuss
+  somebody--about that time I'll be ready to run away, if I have to
+  turn Dog Indian to do it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "There's a new Clarenden store at a place called Burlingame out
+  in Kansas now, somewhere on the old trail. Maybe it will be far
+  enough away to let you get tamed gradually to civil life there,
+  if Uncle Esmond thinks you are worth it," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex Krane is to take charge of that as soon as we get home.
+  Yonder are the spires and minarets and domes of Kansas City. Put
+  on your company grin, Gail," Beverly replied, as we began to run
+  by the huts and cabins forming the outworks of the little city at
+  the Kaw's mouth.<br>
+  <br>
+  Six years had made many changes in the place, but the same old
+  welcome awaited us, and we became happy-hearted boys again as we
+  climbed the steep road up the bluff to the Clarenden house. On
+  the wide veranda overlooking the river everybody except one--Bill
+  Banney, sleeping under the wind-caressed sod beside the Cimarron
+  spring--was waiting to greet us. There were Esmond Clarenden and
+  Jondo, in the prime of middle life, the one a little bald, and
+  more than a little stout; the other's heavy hair was streaked
+  with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical strength
+  told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty for
+  the years before him. The prairies had long since become his
+  home; but whether in scout service for the Government, or as
+  wagon-master for a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same
+  big, brave, loyal Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife
+  beside him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something
+  Madonna-like in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little
+  boys, Esmond, and Rex, Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy
+  welcome at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty
+  Boone. She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy
+  days, when I considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she
+  looked at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once
+  more 'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get
+  your supper right away. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  As she turned away, Mat said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to
+  meet. She has just come and doesn't even know that you are
+  expected. It is 'Little Lees.'"<br>
+  <br>
+  A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall,
+  a presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with
+  her golden hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big
+  dark eyes and their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her
+  dainty coloring, and beyond all these the beauty of womanly
+  strength written in her countenance.<br>
+  <br>
+  Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a
+  deeper shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June
+  roses. She stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in
+  an instant the rich bloom came back to them again.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
+  unannounced," Mat said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in,
+  as he took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at
+  meeting her again.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always
+  greeted him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two
+  when they came together. Little Blue Flower was right about them.
+  They seemed to fit each other.<br>
+  <br>
+  But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just
+  one glance. I feel it yet, and the soft touch of her hand as it
+  lay in mine a moment.<br>
+  <br>
+  I think we chatted all together for a while. I had a wound at
+  Malvern Hill that used to make me dizzy. That, or an older wound,
+  made my pulse frantic now. I know that it was a rare June day,
+  and the breeze off the river came pouring caressingly over the
+  bluff. I remember later that Uncle Esmond and Jondo and Rex Krane
+  went to the Clarenden store, and that Mat was helping Aunty Boone
+  inside, while Beverly let the two little Kranes take him down the
+  slope to see some baby squirrels or something. And Eloise and I
+  were left alone beneath the trees, where once we had sat together
+  long ago in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom." For me, all the
+  strength of the years wherein I had built a wall around my
+  longing love, all my manly loyalty to my cousin's claims, were
+  swept away, as I have seen the big Missouri floods, joined by the
+  lesser Kaw, sweep out bridges, snapping like sticks before their
+  power.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, it seems a hundred years since I saw you and Little Blue
+  Flower ride away up the San Christobal River trail out of my
+  sight," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It has been a long time, but we are not yet old. You seem the
+  same. And as for me, I feel as if the clock had stopped awhile
+  and had suddenly started to ticking anew."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was wonderful to sit beside her and hear her voice again. I
+  did not dare to ask about her mother, but I am sure she read my
+  thoughts, for she went on:<br>
+  <br>
+  "My mother is gone now. She was as happy as a child and never had
+  a sorrow on her mind after her dreadful fever, although the
+  doctors say she might have been restored if I had only been with
+  her then. But it is all ended now."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise paused with saddened face, and looked out toward the
+  Missouri River, boiling with June rains and melted snows.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is all right now," she went on, bravely. "Sister Gloria--you
+  know who she was--stayed with me to the last. And I have a real
+  mound of earth in the cemetery beside my father." The last two
+  words were spoken softly. "Sister Gloria is in the convent now.
+  Marcos is a common gambler. His father disappeared and left him
+  penniless. Esmond Clarenden says that his father died out on the
+  plains somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Father Josef?" I inquired.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is still the same strong friend to everybody. He spends much
+  time among the Hopi people. I don't know why, for they are
+  hopelessly heathen. Their own religion has so many beautiful
+  things to offset our faith that they are hard to convert."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a
+  squaw in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of
+  St. Ann's did for her?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in
+  Eloise's voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I
+  sometimes think that none of them--American, English, Spanish,
+  French, Mexican, nor any others of our pale-faced people, have
+  quite such bitter acts as the Indian tragedy among a gentle race
+  like the people of Hopi-land."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope you will stay with us now."<br>
+  <br>
+  I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy,
+  but a young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had
+  seen this girl ride away from me without one good-by word or
+  glance. I had heard her message to me through Little Blue Flower.
+  I had suffered and outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch
+  of her hand, one smile, one look from her beautiful eyes, and all
+  the barrier of the years fell down. I wondered vaguely now about
+  Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if things became too
+  monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could not think
+  anything.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I have no present plans. Father Josef and Esmond Clarenden
+  thought it would be well for me to come up to Kansas and look at
+  green prairies instead of red mesas for a while; to rest my eyes,
+  and get my strength again--which I have never lost," Eloise said,
+  with a smile. "And Jondo says--"<br>
+  <br>
+  She did not tell me what Jondo had said, for Beverly and Mat and
+  the two rollicking boys joined us just then and we talked of many
+  things of the earlier years.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot tell how that June slipped by, nor how Eloise, in the
+  full bloom of her young womanhood, with the burdens lifted from
+  her heart and hands, was no more the clinging, crushed Eloise who
+  had sat beside me in the church of San Miguel, but a self-reliant
+  and deliciously companionable girl-woman. With Beverly she was
+  always gay, matching him, mood for mood; and if sometimes I
+  caught the fleeting edge of a shadow in her eyes, it was gone too
+  soon to measure. I did not seek her company alone, because I knew
+  that I could not trust myself. Over and over, Jondo's words, when
+  he had told me the story of Mary Marchland, came back to me:<br>
+  <br>
+  "And although they loved each other always, they never saw each
+  other again."<br>
+  <br>
+  Nobody, outside of those touched by it, knew Jondo's story,
+  except myself. He was Theron St. Vrain's brother, yet Eloise
+  never called him uncle, and, except for the one mention of her
+  father's grave, she did not speak of him. He was not even a
+  memory to her. And both men's names were forever stained with the
+  black charge against them.<br>
+  <br>
+  One evening in late June, Uncle Esmond called me into
+  council.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, Rex leaves to-morrow for the new store at Burlingame,
+  Kansas. It is two days out on the Santa F&eacute; Trail. Bev will
+  go with him and stay for a while. I want you to drive through
+  with Mat and the children and Eloise a day or two later."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise?" I looked up in surprise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes; she will visit with Mat for a while. She has had some
+  trying years that have taxed her heavily. The best medicine for
+  such is the song of the prairie winds," Uncle Esmond replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And after that?" I insisted.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We will wait for 'after that' till it gets here," my uncle
+  smiled as he spoke. "There are more serious things on hand than
+  where out Little Lees will eat her meals. She seems able to take
+  care of herself anywhere. Wonderfully beautiful and charming
+  young woman she is, and her troubles have strengthened her
+  character without robbing her of her youth and happy
+  spirits."<br>
+  <br>
+  Esmond Clarenden spoke reminiscently, and I stared at him in
+  surprise until suddenly I remembered that Jondo had said, "We
+  were all in love with Mary Marchland." Eloise must seem to him
+  and Jondo like the Mary Marchland they had known in their young
+  manhood. But my uncle's mood passed quickly, and his face was
+  very grave as he said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "The conditions out on the frontier are serious in every way
+  right now. The Indians are on the war-path, leaving destruction
+  wherever they set foot. Something must be done to protect the
+  wagon-trains on the Santa F&eacute; Trail. I have already lost
+  part of two valuable loads this season, and Narveo has lost
+  three. But the appalling loss of property is nothing compared to
+  the terror and torture to human life. The settlers on the
+  frontier claims are being massacred daily. The Governor of Kansas
+  is doing all he can to get some action from the army leaders at
+  Washington. But you haven't been in military service for six
+  years without finding out that some army leaders are flesh and
+  blood, and some are only wood--plain wooden wood. Meantime, the
+  story of one butchery doesn't get to the Missouri River before
+  the story of another catches up with it. It's bad enough when
+  it's ruinous to just my own commercial business--but in cases
+  like this, humanity is my business."<br>
+  <br>
+  What a man he was--that Esmond Clarenden! They still say of him
+  in Kansas City that no sounder financier and no bigger-hearted
+  humanitarian ever walked the streets of that "Gateway to the
+  Southwest" than the brave little merchant-plainsman who builded
+  for the generations that should follow him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What will be the outcome, Uncle Esmond? Are we to lose all we
+  have gained out here?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not if we are real Westerners. It's got to be stopped. The
+  question is, how soon," my uncle replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  That night in a half-waking dream I remembered Aunty Boone's
+  prophetic greeting a few days before, and how her eyes had
+  narrowed and grown dull as she said, "One more stainin' of your
+  hands 'fore you are through."<br>
+  <br>
+  I had given six good years to army service--the years which young
+  men give to college and to establishing themselves in their
+  life-work. But the vision of the three men whom I had seen under
+  the elm-tree at Fort Leavenworth came back to me, and only
+  one--the cavalry man--moved westward now. I knew that I was
+  dreaming, but I did not want to waken till the vision of a fair
+  face whose eyes looked into mine should come to make my dream
+  sweet and restful.<br>
+  <br>
+  But in my waking hours, in spite of the gravity of conditions
+  that troubled Esmond Clarenden, in spite of the terrible tidings
+  of daily killings on the unprotected plains, I forgot everything
+  except the girl beside me as I went with her and Mat and the
+  children to the new home in the village of Burlingame beside the
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise St. Vrain had come up to Kansas to let the green prairies
+  shut out the memory of tall red mesas. About the little town of
+  Burlingame the prairies were waiting for her eyes to see. It
+  nestled beside a deep creek under the shelter of forest trees,
+  with the green prairie lapping up to its edges on every side. The
+  trail wound round the shoulder of a low hill, and, crossing the
+  stream, it made the main street of the town, then wandered on
+  westward to where a rim of ground shut the view of its way from
+  the settlement under the trees by the creek. A stanch little
+  settlement it was, and, like many Kansas towns of the '60's, with
+  big, but never-to-be realized, ambition to become a city. Into
+  its life and up-building Rex Krane was to throw his good-natured
+  Yankee shrewdness, and Mat her calm, generous spirit; vanguards
+  they were, among the home-makers of a great State.<br>
+  <br>
+  My stay in the place was brief, and I saw little of Eloise until
+  the evening before I was to return to Kansas City. I had meant to
+  go away, as she had left me in the San Christobal Valley, without
+  one backward look, but I couldn't do it; and at the close of my
+  last day I went to the Krane home, where I found her alone. It
+  was the long after-sunset hour, with the refreshing evening
+  breezes pouring in from all the green levels about us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Rex is at the store, and the others are all gone fishing,"
+  Eloise said, in answer to my inquiry for the family.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Mat and Bev always did go fishing on every occasion that I can
+  remember, and they will make fishermen of little Esmond and Rex
+  now. Would you like to go up to the west side of town and look
+  into New Mexico?" I asked, wondering why Beverly should go
+  fishing with Mat when Eloise was waiting for his smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  But I was desperately lonely to-night, and I might not see Eloise
+  again until after she and Beverly--I could not go farther. She
+  smiled and said, lightly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm just honin' for a walk, as Aunty Boone would say, but I'm
+  not quite ready to see New Mexico yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, it's only a thing made of evening mists rising from the
+  meadows, and bits of sunset lights left over when the day was
+  finished," I assured her.<br>
+  <br>
+  So we left the shadow of the tall elms and strolled up the main
+  street toward the west.<br>
+  <br>
+  Where the one cross-street cut the trail in the center of the
+  village there was a public well. The ground around it was
+  trampled into mud by many hoofs. A Mexican train had just come in
+  and was grouped about this well, drinking eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "What news of the plains?" I asked their leader as we passed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot tell you with the lady here," he replied, bowing
+  courteously. "It is too awful. A spear hung with a scalp of
+  pretty baby hair like hers. I see it yet. The plains are all
+  <i>alive--alive</i> with hostile red men; and the worst one of
+  all--he that had the golden scalp--is but a half-breed Cheyenne
+  Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he."<br>
+  <br>
+  The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and
+  struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then
+  passed up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward
+  route.<br>
+  <br>
+  The mists were rising from the lowlands; along the creek the
+  sunset sky was all a flaming glory, under whose deep splendor the
+  June prairies lay tenderly green and still; down in the village
+  the sounds of the Mexicans settling into camp; the shouting of
+  children, romping late; and out across the levels, the mooing
+  call of milking-time from some far-away settler's barn-yard; a
+  robin singing a twilight song in the elms; crickets chirping in
+  the long grass; and the gentle evening breeze sweet and cool out
+  of the west--such was the setting for us two. We paused on the
+  crest of the ridge and sat down to watch the afterglow of a
+  prairie twilight. We did not speak for a long time, but when our
+  eyes met I knew the hour had been made for me. In such an hour we
+  had sat beside the glistening Flat Rock down in the Neosho
+  Valley. I was a whole-hearted boy when I went down there, full of
+  eagerness for the life of adventure on the trail, and she a girl
+  just leaving boarding-school. And now--life sweetens so with
+  years.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think I can understand why your uncle thought it would be well
+  for me to come to Kansas," Eloise said at last. "There is an
+  inspiration and soothing restfulness in a thing like this. Our
+  mountains are so huge and tragical; and even their silences are
+  not always gentle. And our plains are dry and gray. And yet I
+  love the valley of the Santa F&eacute;, and the old Ortiz and
+  Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the
+  Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them
+  for help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang
+  his psalms of hope and victory."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Nature is kind to us if we will let her be. Jondo told me
+  that long ago, and I've proved it since. But I have always loved
+  the prairies. And this ridge here belongs to me," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise looked up inquiringly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll tell you why. When I was a little boy, years ago, a
+  day-dreaming, eager-hearted little boy, we camped here one night.
+  That was my first trip over the trail to Santa F&eacute;. You
+  haven't forgotten it and what a big brown bob-cat I looked like
+  when I got there. I grew like weeds in a Kansas corn-field on
+  that trip."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I remember you. Go on," Eloise said, laughingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That night after supper, everybody had left camp--Mat and Bev
+  were fishing--and I was alone and lonely, so I came up here to
+  find what I could see of the next day's trail. It was such an
+  hour as this. And as I watched the twilight color deepen, my own
+  horizon widened, and I think the soul of a man began, in that
+  hour, to look out through the little boy's eyes; and a new
+  mile-stone was set here to make a landmark in my life-trail. The
+  boy who went back slowly to the camp that night was not the same
+  little boy that had run up here to spy out the way of the next
+  day's journey."<br>
+  <br>
+  The afterglow was deepening to purple; the pink cloud-flecks were
+  turning gray in the east, and a kaleidoscope of softest rose and
+  tender green and misty lavender filled the lengthening shadows of
+  the twilight prairie.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, I had a longing that night, still unfulfilled. I wish I
+  dared to tell you what it was."<br>
+  <br>
+  I turned to look at the fair girl-woman beside me. In the
+  twilight her eyes were always like stars; and the golden hair and
+  the pink bloom of her cheeks seemed richer in their shadowy
+  setting. To-night her gown was white--like the Greek dress she
+  had worn at Mat's wedding, on the night when she met Beverly in
+  the little side porch at midnight. Why did I recall that
+  here?<br>
+  <br>
+  "What was your wish, Gail?" The voice was low and sweet.<br>
+  <br>
+  I took her hand in mine and she did not draw away from me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That I might some day have a real home all my own down there
+  among the trees. I was a little homesick boy that night, and I
+  came up here to watch the sunset and see the open level lands
+  that I have always loved. Eloise, Jondo told me once of three
+  young college men who loved your beautiful mother, and because of
+  that love they never married anybody, but they lived useful,
+  happy lives. I can understand now why they should love her, and
+  why, because they could not have her love, they would not marry
+  anybody else. One was my uncle Esmond, and one was Father
+  Josef."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And the third?" The voice was very low and a tremor shook the
+  hand I held.<br>
+  <br>
+  "He did not tell me. And I speak of it now only to show you that
+  in what I want to say I am not altogether selfish and unkind. I
+  love you, Eloise. I have loved you since the day, long ago, when
+  your face came before me on the parade-ground at Fort
+  Leavenworth. I told you of that once down on the bluff by the
+  Clarenden home at Kansas City. I shall love you, as the Bedouin
+  melody runs,</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Til the sun grows cold,<br>
+  And the stars are old,<br>
+  And the leaves of the judgment<br>
+            Book unfold!</p>
+
+  <p>"But I know that it will end as Uncle Esmond's and Father
+  Josef's loving did, in my living my life alone."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise quickly withdrew her hand, and the pain in her white face
+  haunts me still.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do not want to hurt you, oh, Eloise. I know I do wrong to
+  speak, but to-night will be the last time. I thought that night
+  in the church at San Miguel, and that next day when we rode for
+  our lives together, that you cared for me who would have walked
+  through fire for you. But in that hour in the little chapel a
+  barrier came between us. You rode away without one word or
+  glance. And I turned back feeling that my soul was falling into
+  ruins like that half-ruined little pile of stone that some holy
+  padre had built his heart into years and years ago. Then Little
+  Blue Flower brought your message to me and I knew as I sat beside
+  Fort Marcy's wall that night, and saw the sun go down, that the
+  light of my life was going out with it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "But, Gail," Eloise exclaimed, "I said I could not send you any
+  word, but you would understand. I--I couldn't say any more than
+  that." Her voice was full of tears and she turned away from me
+  and looked at the last radiant tints edging the little
+  cloud-flecks above the horizon.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Of course I understand you, Eloise, and I do not blame you. I
+  never could blame you for anything." I sprang to my feet. "You'll
+  hate me if I say another word," I said, savagely.<br>
+  <br>
+  She rose up, too, and put her hand on my arm. Oh, she was
+  beautiful as she stood beside me. So many times I have pictured
+  her face, I will not try to picture it as it looked now in this
+  sweet, sacred moment of our lives.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I could never hate you. You do not understand me. I cannot
+  help what is past now. I hoped you might forget. And yet--" She
+  paused.<br>
+  <br>
+  All men are humanly alike. In spite of my strong love for Beverly
+  and my sense of right, the presence of the woman whose image for
+  so many years had been in the sacredest shrine of my heart,
+  Eloise, in all her beauty and her womanly strength and purity,
+  standing beside me, her hand still on my arm--all overpowered
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I put my arms about her and held her close to me, kissing her
+  forehead, her cheek, her lips. The world for one long moment was
+  rose-hued like the sunset's afterglow; and sky and prairie,
+  lowlands along the winding creek, and tall elm-trees above the
+  deepening shadows, were all engulfed in a mist of golden glory,
+  shot through with amethyst and sapphire, the dainty coraline pink
+  of summer dawns, and the iridescent shimmer of
+  mother-of-pearl.<br>
+  <br>
+  Heaven opens to us here and there such moments on the way of
+  life. And the memory of them lingers like perfume through all the
+  days that follow.<br>
+  <br>
+  We turned our faces toward the darkening village street and the
+  tall elms above the gathering shadows, and neither spoke a word
+  until we reached the door where I must say good night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot ask you to forgive me, Little Lees, because you let me
+  have a bit of heaven up there. I shall go away a better man. And,
+  remember, that no blessing in your life can be greater than I
+  would wish for you to have."<br>
+  <br>
+  The brave white face was before my eyes and the low voice was in
+  my ears long after I had left her door.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, I cannot help what has been, but I do not blame you. I
+  should almost wish myself shut in again by the tall red mesas;
+  but maybe, after all, the prairies are best for me. I am glad I
+  have known you. Good night."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Goodnight," I said, and turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  And that was all. The last light of day had gone from the sky,
+  and the stars overhead were hidden by the thick leafage of the
+  Burlingame elms. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX">XIX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  A MAN'S PART</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us
+  through the years;<br>
+  Heaven and hell rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;<br>
+  Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove
+  with a gray,<br>
+  To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic
+  day?<br>
+                                          --ROBERT W. SERVICE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  However darkly the sun may go down on hope and love, the real sun
+  shines on, day after day, with its inexorable call to duty. In
+  less than a week after I had left Eloise and the vague hope of a
+  home of my own under the big elm-trees of Burlingame, Governor
+  Crawford of Kansas sent forth a call for a battalion of four
+  companies of soldiers, and I heard the call and answered it.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was to be known as the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry, with Col.
+  Horace L. Moore, a veteran soldier of tried mettle, at the head.
+  We were to go at once to Fort Harker, in the valley of the Smoky
+  Hill River, to begin a campaign against the Indians, who were
+  laying waste the frontier settlements and attacking wagon-trains
+  on the Sante F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the evening before I left home I sat on the veranda of the
+  Clarenden house, waiting for Uncle Esmond to join me, when
+  suddenly Beverly Clarenden strode over the edge of the hill. The
+  sunny smile and the merry twinkle of his eye were Bev's own, and
+  there wasn't a line on his face to show whether it belonged to
+  the happy lover or the rejected suitor. I thought I could always
+  read his moods when he had any. He had none to-night.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I just got in from Burlingame. At what hour do you leave
+  to-morrow? I'm going along to chaperon you, as usual," he
+  declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Beverly Clarenden, I thought you were fixed at Burlingame,
+  selling molasses and calico by the gallon," I exclaimed, but my
+  real thought was not given to words.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And let the Cheyennes, and Kiowas, and Arapahoes, and other
+  desperadoes of the plains gnaw clear into the heart of us? Not
+  your uncle Esmond Clarenden's nephew. And, Gail, this won't be
+  anything like we have had since those six Kiowas staked you out
+  on Pawnee Rock once. The thoroughbred Indians are bad enough, but
+  there is a half-breed leader of a band of Dog Indians that's
+  worst of all. He's of the yellow kind, with wolf's fangs. A
+  Mexican on the trail told me that this half-breed ties up with
+  the worst of every tribe from the Coast Range mountains to
+  Tecumseh, Kansas," Beverly declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I remember that Mexican. I saw him at the well in Burlingame," I
+  replied, turning to look at the Kaw winding far away, for the
+  memory of everything in Burlingame was painful to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone's huge form appearing around the corner of the house
+  shut off my view of the river just then. Her face was glistening,
+  but her eyes were dull as she looked us over.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You stainin' your hands again," she purred. "Yes, Aunty. We are
+  going to lick the redskins into ribbons," Beverly replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You never get that done. Lickin' never settles nobody. You just
+  hold 'em down till they strong enough to boost you off their
+  heads again, and up they come. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  The black woman gave a chuckle.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, I'd rather sit on their heads than have them sitting on
+  mine, or yours, Aunty Boone," Beverly returned, laughingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone's eyes narrowed and there was a strange light in them
+  as she looked at us, saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "You get into trouble, Mr. Bev, you see me comin', hot streaks,
+  to help you out. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She breathed her weird, African whoop and turned away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll depend on you." Beverly's face was bright, and there was no
+  shadow in his eyes, as he called after her retreating form.<br>
+  <br>
+  We chatted long together, and I hoped--and feared--to have him
+  tell me the story of his suit with Eloise, and why in such a day,
+  of all the days of his life, he should choose to run away to the
+  warfare of the frontier. He could not have failed, I thought.
+  Never a disappointed lover wore a smile like this. But Beverly
+  had no story to tell me that night.<br>
+  <br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The mid-July sun was shining down on a treeless landscape, across
+  which the yellow, foam-flecked Smoky Hill River wound its sinuous
+  way. Beside this stream was old Fort Harker, a low quadrangle of
+  quarters, for military man and beast, grouped about a
+  parade-ground for companionship rather than for protection. The
+  frontier fort had little need for defensive strength. About its
+  walls the Indian crawled submissively, fearful of munitions and
+  authority. It was not here, but out on lonely trails, in sudden
+  ambush, or in overwhelming numbers, or where long miles, cut off
+  from water, or exhausting distance banished safe retreat, that
+  the savage struck in all his fury.<br>
+  <br>
+  Eastward from Harker the scattered frontier homesteads crouched,
+  defenseless, in the river valleys. Far to the northwest spread
+  the desolate lengths of a silent land where the white man's foot
+  had hardly yet been set. Miles away to the southwest the Santa
+  F&eacute; Trail wound among the Arkansas sand-hills, never, in
+  all its history, less safe for freighters than in that summer of
+  1867.<br>
+  <br>
+  In this vast demesne the raiding Cheyenne, the cruel Kiowa, the
+  blood-thirsty Arapahoe, with bands of Dog Indians and outlaws
+  from every tribe, contested, foot by foot, for supremacy against
+  the out-reaching civilization of the dominant Anglo-American. The
+  lonely trails were measured off by white men's graves. The
+  vagrant winds that bear the odor of alfalfa, and of orchard bloom
+  to-day, were laden often with the smoke of burning homes, and
+  often, too, they bore that sickening smell of human flesh, once
+  caught, never to be forgotten. The story of that struggle for
+  supremacy is a tragic drama of heroism and endurance. In it the
+  Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry played a stirring part.<br>
+  <br>
+  It seems but yesterday to me now, that July day so many years
+  ago, when our four companies, numbering fewer than four hundred
+  men, detrained from the Union Pacific train at Fort Harker on the
+  Smoky Hill. And the faces of the men who were to lead us are
+  clear in memory. Our commander, Colonel Moore, always brave and
+  able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay, and Edgar Barker, and
+  George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd, courageous
+  scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking, young
+  lieutenant, Frank Stahl. Ours was not to be a record of unfading
+  glory, as national military annals show, yet it may count
+  mightily when the Great Records are opened for final estimates.
+  Those men who marched two thousand miles, back and forth, upon
+  the trackless plains in that four months' campaign, have been
+  forgotten in the debris of uneventful years. Our long-faded
+  trails lie buried under wide alfalfa-fields and the paved streets
+  of western Kansas towns. From the far springs that quenched our
+  burning thirst comes water, trickling through a nickel faucet
+  into a marble basin, now. Where the fierce sun seared our
+  eyeballs, in a treeless, barren waste, green groves, atune with
+  song-birds, cast long swaths of shade on verdant sod. The perils
+  and the hardships of the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry are now but as
+  a tale that is told.<br>
+  <br>
+  And yet of all the heroes whose life-trails cut my own, I account
+  among the greatest those men under whose command, and with whose
+  comradeship, I went out to serve the needs of my generation among
+  the vanguards of the plains. And if in a sunset hour on the west
+  ridge beyond the little town of Burlingame I had left a hopeless
+  love behind me, I put a man's best energy into the thing before
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  The battle-field alone is not the soldier's greatest test. I had
+  kept step with men who charge an enemy on an open plain or storm
+  a high defense in the face of sure defeat. I had been ordered
+  with my company to take redoubts against the flaming throats of
+  bellowing cannon in the life-and-death grip before Richmond. I
+  had felt the awful thrill of carnage as my division surged back
+  and forth across the blood-soaked lengths of Gettysburg, and I
+  never once fell behind my comrades. The battle-field breeds
+  courage, and self-forgetfulness, and exaltation, from the sense
+  of duty squarely met.<br>
+  <br>
+  There were no battle-fields in 1867, where Greek met Greek in
+  splendid gallantry, out on the Kansas plains. Over Fort Harker
+  hung the pall of death, and in the July heat the great black
+  plague of Asiatic cholera stalked abroad and scourged the land.
+  Men were dying like rats, lacking everything that helps to drive
+  death back. The volunteer who had offered himself to save the
+  settlers from the scalping-knife had come here only to look into
+  an open grave, and then, in agony, to drop into it. Such things
+  test soldiers more than battle-fields. And our men turned back in
+  fear, preferring the deserter's shame to quick, inglorious
+  martyrdom by Asiatic cholera. I had a battle of my own the first
+  night at Fort Harker. There was a growing moon and the night
+  breeze was cool after the heat of the day. Beverly Clarenden and
+  I went down to the river, whose tawny waters hardly hid the tawny
+  sands beneath them. The plains were silent, but from all the
+  hospital tents about the fort came the sharp, agonized cries of
+  pain that forerun the last collapse of the plague-stricken
+  sufferers. To get away from the sound of it all we wandered down
+  the stream to where the banks of soft, caving earth on the
+  farther side were higher than a man's head, and their shadow hid
+  the current. We sat down and stared silently at the waters,
+  scarcely whispering as they rolled along, and at the still shade
+  of the farther bank upon them. The shadows thickened and moved a
+  little, then grew still. We also grew still. Then they moved
+  again just opposite us, and fell into three parts, as three men
+  glided silently along under the bank's protecting gloom. We
+  waited until they had reached the edge of the moonlight, and saw
+  three soldiers pass swiftly out across the unprotected sands to
+  other shadowy places further on.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Deserters!" Beverly said, half aloud. "You can stay here if you
+  want to, Gail. I'd rather go up and listen to those poor wretches
+  groan than stick down here and listen to the fiend inside of me
+  to-night."<br>
+  <br>
+  He rose and stalked away, and I sat listening to myself. I could
+  join those three men easily enough. The world is wide. I had no
+  bond to hold me to one single place in it. I was young and
+  strong, and life is sweet. Why let the black plague snuff me out
+  of it? I had come here to serve the State. I should not serve it
+  in a plague-marked grave. I rose to follow down the stream, to go
+  to where the Smoky Hill joins the big Republican to make the Kaw,
+  and on to where the Kaw reaches to the Missouri. But I would not
+  stop there. I'd go until I reached the ocean somewhere.<br>
+  <br>
+  Would I?<br>
+  <br>
+  The memory of Jondo's eyes when they looked into mine on Pawnee
+  Rock came unbidden across my mind. Jondo had lived a nameless
+  man. How strong and helpful all his years had been! How starved
+  had been my life without his love! I would be another Jondo,
+  somewhere on earth.<br>
+  <br>
+  I stared after three faintly moving shadows down the stream.
+  'Twas well I waited, for Esmond Clarenden came to me now,
+  clean-cut, honest, everybody's friend. How firm his life had
+  been; and he had built into me a hatred of deceit and lies. And
+  Jondo was another Uncle Esmond. In spite of the black shadow on
+  his name, he walked the prairies like a prince always. I could
+  not be like him if I were a deserter. Up-stream death was waiting
+  for me; down-stream, disgrace. I turned and followed up the
+  river's course, but the strength that forced me to it was greater
+  than that which made me brave on battle-fields. And ever since
+  that night beside the Smoky Hill I have felt gentler toward the
+  man who falls.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were not idle long for Fort Harker had just been informed of
+  an assault on a wagon-train on the Santa F&eacute; Trail and our
+  cavalry squadron hurried away at once to overtake and punish the
+  assailants.<br>
+  <br>
+  We came into camp on the bank of Walnut Creek, at the close of a
+  long summer day of blazing light and heat over the barren trails
+  where there was no water; a day of long hours in the saddle; a
+  day of nerve-wearing watchfulness. But we believed that we had
+  left the plague-cursed region behind us, so we were light-hearted
+  and good-natured; and we ate, and drank, and took our lot
+  cheerfully.<br>
+  <br>
+  Among the men at mess that night I saw a new face which was
+  nothing remarkable, except that something in it told me that I
+  had already seen that face somewhere, some time. It is my gift
+  never to forget a face, once seen, no matter how many years may
+  pass before I see it twice. This soldier was a pleasant fellow,
+  too, and, in a story he was telling, clever at imitating
+  others.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Who is that man, Bev? The third one over there?" I asked my
+  cousin.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Stranger to me. I don't believe I ever saw him before. Who is
+  the fellow with the smile, Captain?" Beverly asked the officer
+  beside him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know. He's not in my company. I'm finding new faces
+  every day," the captain replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  As twilight fell I saw the man again at the edge of the camp. He
+  smiled pleasantly as he passed me, turning to look at Beverly,
+  who did not see him, and in a minute he was cantering down to the
+  creek beside our camp. I saw him cross it and ride quickly out of
+  sight. But that smile brought to the face the thing that had
+  escaped me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I know that fellow now," I said to Beverly and the officer who
+  came up just then. "He's Charlie Bent, the son of Colonel Bent.
+  Don't you remember the little sinner at old Fort Bent, Bev?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do, and what a vicious little reptile he was," Beverly
+  replied. "But Uncle Esmond told me that his father took him away
+  early and had him schooled like a gentleman in the best Saint
+  Louis had to give. I wonder whose company he is in."<br>
+  <br>
+  The officer stared at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You mean to say you know that cavalryman to be Charlie Bent?" he
+  fairly gasped.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Of course it's Charlie. I never missed a face in all my life.
+  That's his own," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The worst Indian on the plains!" the captain declared. "He stirs
+  up more fiendishness than a whole regiment of thoroughbred
+  Cheyennes could ever think of. He's led in every killing here
+  since March."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Not Colonel Bent's son!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he's the half-breed devil that we'll have to fight, and
+  here he comes and eats with us and rides away."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He must be the fellow that the Mexican told us about back at
+  Burlingame, Gail. I remember now he did say the brute's name was
+  Bent, but I didn't rope him up with our Fort Bent chum. Gail
+  would have run him down in half a minute if he had heard the
+  name. I never could remember anything," Beverly said, in disgust.
+  But the smile was peeping back of his frown, and he forgot the
+  boy he was soon to have cause enough to remember.<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must run that rascal down to-night," the Captain declared, as
+  he hurried away to consult with the other officers.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Charlie Bent was not run down that night. Before we had time
+  to get over our surprise a scream of pain rang through the camp.
+  Another followed, and another, and when an hour had passed a
+  third of our forces was writhing in the clutches of the
+  cholera.<br>
+  <br>
+  I shall never forget the long hours of that night beside the
+  Walnut, nor Beverly Clarenden's face as he bent over the
+  suffering men. For all of us who were well worked mightily to
+  save our plague-stricken comrades, whose couches were of prairie
+  grass and whose hospital roof was the starlit sky. However
+  forgetful Beverly might be of names and faces, his strong hand
+  had that soothing firmness that eased the agony of cramping
+  limbs. Dear Bev! He comforted the sick, and caught the dying
+  words, and straightened the relaxed bodies of the dead, and
+  smiled next day, and forgot that he had done it.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last the night of horror passed, and day came, wan and hot and
+  weary out of the east. But five of our comrades would see no
+  earthly day again; and three dozen strong men of the day before
+  lay stretched upon the ground, pulseless and shrunken and purple,
+  with wrinkled skin and wide, unseeing eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before the sun had risen our dead, coffined only by their army
+  blankets, lay in unmarked graves. Our helpless living were placed
+  in commissary wagons, and we took the trail slowly and painfully
+  toward the Arkansas River.<br>
+  <br>
+  If Charley Bent had gathered up his band to strike that night
+  there would have been a different chapter in the annals of the
+  plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot follow with my pen the long marches of that campaign,
+  and there was no honorable nor glorious warfare in it. It is a
+  story of skirmishes, not of battles; of attack and repulse; of
+  ambush and pursuit and retreat. It is a story of long days under
+  burning skies, by whose fierce glare our brains seemed shriveling
+  up and the world went black before our heat-bleared eyes. A story
+  of hard night-rides, when weary bodies fought with watchful minds
+  the grim struggle that drowsiness can wage, though sleep, we
+  knew, meant death. It is a story of fevered limbs and bursting
+  pulse in hospitals whose walls were prairie distances. A story of
+  hunger, and exhausted rations; of choking thirst, with only
+  alkali water mocking at us. And never could the story all be
+  told. There is no rest for cavalrymen in the field. We did not
+  suffer heavy loss, but here and there our comrades fell, by ones,
+  and twos, at duty's post; and where they fell they lie, in
+  wayside graves, waiting for glorious mention until the last
+  reveille shall sound above the battlements of heaven.<br>
+  <br>
+  And I was one among these vanguards of the plains, making the old
+  Santa F&eacute; Trail safe for the feet of trade; and the wide
+  Kansas prairies safe for homes, and happiness, and hope, and
+  power. I lived the life, and toughened in its grind. But in my
+  dreams sometimes my other life returned to me, and a sweet face,
+  with a cloud of golden hair, and dark eyes looking into mine,
+  came like a benediction to me. Another face came sometimes
+  now--black, big, and glistening, with eyes of strange, far vision
+  looking at me, and I heard, over and over, the words of Esmond
+  Clarenden's cook:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I'll come, hot streaks, to
+  help you."<br>
+  <br>
+  But trouble never stuck to "Mr. Bev," because he failed to know
+  it when it came.<br>
+  <br>
+  Mid-August found us at Fort Hays on the Smoky Hill, beyond whose
+  protecting guns the wilderness ruled. A wilderness checkered by
+  faint trails of lawless feet, a wilderness set with bloody claws
+  and poison stings and cruel fangs, and slow, agonizing death. And
+  with all a wilderness of weird, fascinating distances and danger,
+  charm and beauty. The thrill of the explorer of new lands
+  possessed us as we looked far into the heart of it. Here in these
+  August days the Cheyenne and Arapahoe and Kiowa bands were riding
+  trails blood-stained by victims dragged from lonely homesteads,
+  and butchered, here and there, to make an Indian holiday. The
+  scenes along the valleys of the Sappa and the Beaver and the
+  Prairie Dog creeks were far too brutal and revolting to belong to
+  modern life. Against these our Eighteenth Kansas, with a small
+  body of United States cavalry, struck northward from Fort Hays.
+  We rested through the long, hot days and marched by night. The
+  moon was growing toward the full, and in its clear, white
+  splendor the prairies lay revealed for miles about us. Our
+  command was small and meagerly equipped, and we were moving on to
+  meet a foe of overwhelming numbers. Men took strange odds with
+  Fate upon the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beyond the open, level lands lay a rugged region hemming in the
+  valley of the Prairie Dog Creek. Here picturesque cliffs and
+  deep, earth-walled ca&ntilde;ons split the hills, affording easy
+  ambush for a regiment of red men. And here, in a triangle of a
+  few miles area, a new Thermopylae, with no Leonidas but Kansas
+  plainsmen, was staged through two long August days and nights.
+  One hundred and fifty of us against fifteen hundred fighting
+  braves.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early morning of a long, hot August day, we came to an
+  open plain beyond the Prairie Dog Creek. Our supply-wagons and
+  pack-mules were separated from us somewhere among the bluffs. We
+  had had no food since the night before, and our canteens were
+  empty--all on account of the blundering mismanagement of the
+  United States officer who cammanded us. I was only a
+  private, and a private's business is not to question, but to
+  obey. And that major over us, cashiered for cowardice later, was
+  not a Kansas man. Thank heaven for that!<br>
+  <br>
+  A score of us, including my cousin and myself, under a sergeant,
+  and with good Scout Pliley, were suddenly ordered back among the
+  hills.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Where do we go, and why?" Beverly asked me as we rode along.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I don't know," I replied. "But Captain Jenness and a file of men
+  were lost out here somewhere last night. And Indian tracks step
+  over one another all around here. I guess we are out to find
+  what's lost, maybe. It isn't a twenty minutes' job, I know
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And all our canteens empty, too! Why cut off all visible means
+  of support in a time like this? Look at these bluffs and
+  hiding-places, will you! A handful of Indians could scoop our
+  whole body up and pitch us into the Prairie Dog Creek, and not be
+  missed from a set in a war-dance," Beverly insisted. "Keep it
+  strictly in the Clarenden family, Gail, but our honorable
+  commander is a fool and a coward, if he is a United States
+  major."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You speak as one expecting a promotion, Bev," I suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd know how to use it if I got it," he smiled brightly at me as
+  we quickened our pace not to fall behind.<br>
+  <br>
+  Every day of that campaign Beverly grew dearer to me. I am glad
+  our lives ran on together for so many years.<br>
+  <br>
+  The ca&ntilde;ons deepened and the whole region was bewildering,
+  but still we struggled on, lost men searching for lost men. The
+  sun blazed hotly, and the soft yellow bluffs of bone-dry earth
+  reached down to the dry beds of one-time streams.<br>
+  <br>
+  High noon, and still no food, no water, and no lost men
+  discovered. We had pushed out to a little opening, ridged in on
+  either side by high, brown bluffs, when a whoop came from the
+  head of the line.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yonder they are! Yonder they are!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Half a dozen men, led by Captain Jenness, were riding swiftly to
+  join us and we shouted in our joy. For some among us that was the
+  last joyous shout. At that moment a yell from savage throats
+  filled the air, and the thunder of hoofs shook the ground. Over
+  the west ridge, half a mile away, five hundred Indians came
+  swooping like a hurricane down upon us. And we numbered,
+  altogether, twenty-nine. I can see that charge to-day: the
+  blinding, yellow sky, the ridge melting into a cloud of tawny
+  dust, the surge of ponies with their riders bending low above
+  them; fronting them, our little group of cavalrymen formed into a
+  hollow square, on foot, about our mounts; the Indians riding, in
+  a wide circle around us, with blankets flapping, and
+  streamer-decked lances waving high. And as I see, I hear again
+  that wild, unearthly shriek and taunting yell and fiendish
+  laughter. From every point the riflle-balls poured in upon
+  us, while out of buffalo wallow and from behind each prairie-dog
+  hillock a surge of arrows from unmounted Indians swept up against
+  us. I had been on battle-fields before, but this was a circle out
+  of hell set 'round us there. And every man of of knew, as we sent
+  back ball for ball, what capture here would mean for us before
+  the merciful hand of death would seal our eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly, as we moved forward, the frantic circle halted and a
+  hundred braves came dashing in a fierce charge upon us. Their
+  leader, mounted on a great, white horse, rode daringly ahead,
+  calling his men to follow him, and taunting us with cowardice. He
+  spoke good English, and his voice rang clear and strong above the
+  din of that strange struggle. Straight on he came, without once
+  looking back, a revolver in each hand, firing as he rode. A
+  volley from our carbines made his fellows stagger, then waver,
+  break, and run. Not so the rider of the splendid white horse, who
+  dared us to strike him down as he dashed full at us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come on, you coward Clarenden boys, and I'll fight you both.
+  I've waited all these years to do it. I dare you. Oh, I dare
+  you!"<br>
+  <br>
+  It was Charlie Bent.<br>
+  <br>
+  Nine balls from Clarenden carbines flew at him. Beverly and I
+  were listed among the cleverest shots in Kansas, but not one ball
+  brought harm to the daring outlaw. A score of bullets sung about
+  his insolent face, but his seemed a charmed life. Right on he
+  forged, over our men, and through the square to the Indian's
+  circle on the other side, his mocking laughter ringing as he
+  rode. A bloody scalp hung from his spear, and, turning 'round
+  just out of range of our fire, shaking his trophy high, he
+  shouted back:<br>
+  <br>
+  "We got all of the balance of your men. We'll get you yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  The sun glared fiercely on the bare, brown earth. A burning
+  thirst began to parch our lips. We had had no food nor drink for
+  more than twenty hours. Our horses, wounded with many arrows,
+  were harder to care for than our brave, stricken men.<br>
+  <br>
+  Night came upon the ca&ntilde;ons of the Prairie Dog, and with
+  the darkness the firing ceased. Somewhere, not far away, there
+  might be a wagon-train with food for us. And somewhere near there
+  might be a hundred men or more of our command trying to reach us.
+  But, whether the force and supplies were safe or the wagons were
+  captured and all our comrades killed, as Charlie Bent had said,
+  we could not know. We only knew that we had no food; that one
+  man, and all but four of our cavalry horses lay dead out in the
+  valley; that two men in our midst were slowly dying, and a dozen
+  others suffering from wounds of battle, among these our captain
+  and Scout Pliley; that we were in a wild, strange land, with
+  Indians perching, vulture-like, on every hill-top, waiting for
+  dawn to come to seize their starving prey.<br>
+  <br>
+  We heard an owl hoot here and there, and farther off an answering
+  hoot; a coyote's bark, a late bird's note, another coyote, and a
+  fainter hoot, all as night settled. And we knew that owl and
+  coyote and twilight song-bird were only imitations--sentinel
+  signals from point to point, where Indian videttes guarded every
+  height, watching the trail with shadow-piercing eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  The glossy cottonwood leaves, in the faint night breeze, rippled
+  like pattering rain-drops on dry roofs in summertime, and the
+  thin, willow boughs swayed gently over us. The full moon swept
+  grandly up the heavens, pouring a flood of softened light over
+  the valley of the Prairie Dog, whose steep bluffs were guarded by
+  a host of blood-lusting savages, and whose ca&ntilde;ons locked
+  in a handful of intrepid men.<br>
+  <br>
+  If we could only slip out, undiscovered, in the dark we might
+  find our command somewhere along the creek. It was a perilous
+  thing to undertake, but to stay there was more perilous.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say, Gail," Beverly whispered, when we were in motion, "somebody
+  said once, 'There have been no great nations without
+  processions,' but this is the darndest procession I ever saw to
+  help to make a nation great. Hold on, comrade. There! Rest on my
+  arm a bit. It makes it softer."<br>
+  <br>
+  The last words to a wounded soldier for whom Bev's grip eased the
+  ride.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was a strange procession, and in that tragic gloom the boy's
+  light-hearted words were balm to me.<br>
+  <br>
+  Silently and slowly we moved forward. The underbrush was thick on
+  either side of the narrow, stony way that wound between sheer
+  cliffs. We had torn up our blankets and shirts to muffle the
+  horses' feet, that no sound of hoofs, striking upon the rocky
+  path, might reach the ears of the Cheyenne and his allies
+  crouching watchfully above us. At the head marched Captain
+  Jenness and Scout Pliley, each with his carbine for a crutch and
+  leaning on each other for support. Followed five soldiers as
+  front guard through the defile. And then four horses, led by
+  careful hands, bearing nine suffering, silent men upon their
+  backs. Two of the horses carried three, and one bore two, and the
+  last horse, one--a dying boy, whispering into my ear a message
+  for his mother, as I held his hand. Behind us came the sergeants
+  with the remainder, for rear-guard. And so we passed, mile after
+  mile, winding in and out, to find some sheltering spot where,
+  sinking in exhaustion, we might sleep.<br>
+  <br>
+  The midnight winds grew chill, and the tense strain of that slow
+  march was maddening, but not a groan came from the wounded men.
+  The vanguards of the plains knew how to take perilous trails and
+  hold their peace.<br>
+  <br>
+  When the sun rose on the second day the hills about us swarmed
+  with savages, whose demoniac yells rent the air. Leonidas had his
+  back against a rock at old Thermopylae, but our Kansas plainsmen
+  fought in a ring of fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  At day-dawn, our brave scout, Pliley, slipped away, and, after
+  long hours among the barren hills, he found the main command.<br>
+  <br>
+  Men never gave up hope in the plains warfare, but each of us had
+  saved one bullet for himself, if we must lose this game. The time
+  for that last bullet had almost come when the sight of cavalrymen
+  on a distant ridge told us that our scout was on its way to us
+  again. It took a hero's heart to thread unseen the dangerous
+  trails and find our comrades with the cavalry major and bring
+  back aid, but Pliley did it for us--a man's part. May the sod
+  rest lightly where he sleeps to-day. Meantime, on the day before,
+  the main force of our cavalry, who had given us up for lost, had
+  had their own long, fearful struggle. In the early morning,
+  Lieutenant Stahl, scouting forward in an open plain, rushed back
+  to give warning of Indians everywhere. And they were
+  everywhere--a thousand strong against a feeble hundred caught in
+  their midst. They rode like centaurs, and their aim was deadly
+  true as they poured down, a murderous avalanche, from every
+  hillslope. Their ponies' tails, sweeping the ground, lengthened
+  by long horse-hair braids, with sticks thrust through at
+  intervals by way of ornament; their waving blankets, and
+  streamered lances held aloft; the savage roar from ten hundred
+  throats; the mad impetus of their furious charge through clouds
+  of dust and rifle smoke--all made the valley of the Prairie Dog
+  seem but a seething hell bursting with fiendins shouts,
+  shot through with quivering arrows, shattered by bullets, rocked
+  with the thunderous beat of horses' hoofs, trampling it into one
+  great maelstrom of blood and dirt.<br>
+  <br>
+  All day, with neither food nor water, amid bewildering bluffs and
+  gorges, alive with savage warriors, the cavalrymen had striven
+  desperately. Night fell, and in the clear moonlight they forced
+  their way across the Prairie Dog, and neither man nor horse dared
+  to stop to drink because an instant's pause meant death.<br>
+  <br>
+  And the evening and the morning were the first day. And the
+  second was like unto it, albeit we were no longer a triangle,
+  made up of wagon-train here and main command there, and our
+  twenty-nine--less two lost ones--under Captain Jenness, at a
+  third point. Before noon, our force was all united and we joined
+  hands for the finish.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I rode side by side all day. Everywhere around us the
+  half-breed, Charlie Bent, dashed boldly on his big, white horse
+  calling us cowardly dogs and taunting us with lack of
+  marksmanship.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm getting tired of that fellow, Gail. I'll pick his horse out
+  from under him pretty soon, see if I don't." My cousin called to
+  me as Bent's insolent cry burst forth:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come out, and let me show you how to shoot."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly leaped out toward the Indian horde surrounding Bent. He
+  raised his carbine, and with steady aim, fired far across the
+  field of battle, the cleanest shot I ever saw. Years ago my
+  cousin had urged Uncle Esmond to let him practise shooting on
+  horseback. He was a master of the art now. Charlie Bent's
+  splendid white steed fell headlong, hurling its rider to the
+  ground and dragging him, face downward, in the dirt.<br>
+  <br>
+  I cannot paint that day's deeds with my pen, nor ever artist
+  lived whose brush could reproduce it. If we should lose here, it
+  meant the turning of the clock from morning back to midnight on
+  the Kansas plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  Between this and the safety of the prairies stood fewer than a
+  hundred and fifty men, against a thousand warriors, led by
+  cunning half-breeds skilled in the white man's language and the
+  red man's fiendishness.<br>
+  <br>
+  If we should lose--We did not go out there to lose. When each man
+  does a man's part there is no failure possible at last.<br>
+  <br>
+  As the sun sank toward late afternoon, the savage force massed
+  for its great, crushing blow that should annihilate us. The
+  strong center, made up of the flower of every tribe engaged, was
+  on the crest of a long, westward-reaching slope, a splendid
+  company of barbaric warriors--strong, eager, vengeful, doggedly
+  determined to finish now the struggle with the power they
+  hated.<br>
+  <br>
+  The air was very clear, and in its crystal distances we could see
+  every movement and hear each command.<br>
+  <br>
+  The valley rang with the taunts and jeers and threats and mocking
+  laughter of our foes, daring us to come out and meet them face to
+  face, like men. And we went out and met them face to face, like
+  men.<br>
+  <br>
+  A little force of soldiery fighting, not for ourselves, but for
+  the hearthstones of a nobler people, our cavalry swung up that
+  long, western slope in the face of a murderous fire, into the
+  very heart of Cheyenne strength, enforced by all the iron of the
+  allied tribes. I marvel at it now, when, in solid phalanx, our
+  foes might easily have mowed us down like a thin line of standing
+  grain; for their numbers seemed unending, while flight on flight
+  of arrows and fierce sheets of rifle-fire swept our ranks as we
+  rode on to death or victory. But each man's face among us there
+  was bright with courage, and with our steady force unchecked we
+  swept right on to the very crest of the high slope, scattering
+  the enemy, at last, like wind-blown autumn leaves, until upon our
+  guidons victory rested and the long day was won. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XX" id="XX">XX</a><br>
+  <br>
+  GONE OUT</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  I wander alone at dead of night,<br>
+  But ever before me I see a light,<br>
+  In darkest hours more clear, more bright;<br>
+      And the hope that I bear fails never.<br>
+                      FREDRICH R&Uuml;CKERT.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The waters of the Smoky Hill flowed yellow, flecked with foam,
+  beside our camp, where, in a little grove of cottonwood trees, we
+  rested from a long day's march. The heat of a late Kansas summer
+  day was fanned away at twilight by the cool prairie breeze. There
+  was an appealing something in the air that evening hour that made
+  me homesick. So I went down beside the river to fight out my
+  daily battle and let the wide spaces of the landscape soothe me,
+  and all the opal tints of sunset skies and the soft radiance of a
+  prairie twilight bring me their inspiration.<br>
+  <br>
+  Each day my heart-longing for the girl I must not love grew
+  stronger. I wondered, as I sat here to-night, what trail would
+  open for me when Beverly and Eloise should meet again, as lovers
+  must meet some time. We had not once spoken her name between us,
+  Bev and I, in all the days and nights since we had been in
+  service on the plains.<br>
+  <br>
+  As I sat lonely, musing vaguely of a score of things that all ran
+  back to one fair face, Beverly dropped down beside me. His face
+  was grave and his eyes had a gentle, pleading look, something
+  strange and different from the man whose moods I knew.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'm homesick, Gail." He smiled as he spoke, and all the boy of
+  all the years was in that smile.<br>
+  <br>
+  "So am I, Bev. It must be in the water here," I replied,
+  lightly.<br>
+  <br>
+  But neither one misunderstood the other.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd like to see Little Lees to-night. Wouldn't you?" he asked,
+  suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  The question startled me. Maybe my cousin wanted to confide in me
+  here. I would not be selfish with him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, I always like to see her. Why to-night, though?" I asked,
+  encouragingly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly looked steadily into my face.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I want to tell you something, Gail. I haven't dared to speak
+  before, but something tells me I should speak to-night," he said
+  slowly.<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked away along the winding valley of the Smoky Hill. I must
+  hear it some time. Why be a coward now?<br>
+  <br>
+  "Say on, I'm always ready to hear anything from you,
+  Beverly."<br>
+  <br>
+  I tried to speak firmly, and I hoped my voice did not seem
+  faltering to him. He sat silent a long while. Then he rose and
+  straightened to his full height--a splendid form of strength and
+  wholesomeness and grace.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'll tell you some time soon, but not to-night. Honor is
+  something with me yet."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so he left me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I dreamed of him that night with Eloise. And all of us were glad.
+  I wakened suddenly. Beverly was standing near me. He turned and
+  walked away, his upright form and gait, even in the faint light,
+  individually Bev's own. I saw him lie down and draw his blanket
+  about him, then sit up a moment, then nestle down again.
+  Something went wrong with sleep and me for a long time, and once
+  I called out, softly:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev, can't you sleep?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, shut up! Not if you fidget about me," he replied, with the
+  old happy-go-lucky toss of the head and careless tone.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was dim dawn when I wakened. My cousin was sleeping calmly
+  just a few feet away. An irresistible longing to speak to him
+  overcame me and I slipped across and gently kicked the slumbering
+  form. Two cavalry blankets rolled apart. A note pinned to the
+  edge of one caught my eye. I stooped to read:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">DEAR GAIL, Don't hate me. I'm sick of army
+  life. They will call me a coward and if they get me they will
+  shoot me for a deserter. I have disgraced the Clarenden name.
+  You'll never see me again. Good-bye, old boy.<br>
+  <br>
+  BEV.</p>
+
+  <p>Deserter!<br>
+  <br>
+  The yells of all the tribes in the battle on the Prairie Dog
+  Creek shrieked not so fiercely in my ears as that word rang now.
+  And all the valley of the Smoky Hill echoed and re-echoed it.<br>
+  <br>
+  Deserter!<br>
+  <br>
+  My Beverly--who never told a lie, nor feared a danger, nor ever,
+  except in self-defense, hurt a creature God had made. I could
+  bury Bev, or stand beside him on his wedding-day. But Beverly
+  disgraced! O, God of mercy toward all cowards, pity him!<br>
+  <br>
+  I sat down beside the blankets I had kicked apart and looked back
+  over my cousin's life. It offered me no help. I thought of
+  Eloise--and his longing to see her on the night before; of his
+  struggle to tell me something. I knew now what that something
+  was. Poor boy!<br>
+  <br>
+  He was not a boy, he was a man--strong, fearless, happy-hearted.
+  How could the plains make cowards out of such as he? They had
+  made a man of Jondo, who had all excuse to play the coward. The
+  mystery of the human mind is a riddle past my reading--and I had
+  always thought of Beverly's as an open book. The only one to whom
+  I could turn now was not Eloise, nor my uncle, nor Mat nor Rex,
+  but Jondo, John Doe, the nameless man, with whom Esmond Clarenden
+  had walked all these years and for whose sake he had rescued
+  Eloise St. Vrain. They had "toted together," as Aunty Boone had
+  said. Oh, Aunty Boone with dull eyes of prophecy! I could hear
+  her soft voice saying:<br>
+  <br>
+  "If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I come, hot streaks, to help
+  you."<br>
+  <br>
+  She could not come "hot streaks" now, for Beverly had deserted.
+  But there was Jondo.<br>
+  <br>
+  I wrote at once to him, inclosing the crumpled note, and then, as
+  one who walks with neither sight nor feeling any more, I rode the
+  plains and did a man's part in that Eighteenth Cavalry campaign
+  of '67. The days went slowly by, bringing the long, bright autumn
+  beauty to the plains and turning all the elms to gold along the
+  creek at Burlingame. Time took away the sharp edge from our grief
+  and shame, and left the dull pain that wears deeper and deeper,
+  unnoticed by us; and all of us who had loved Beverly lived on and
+  were cheerful for one another's sake.<br>
+  <br>
+  When Jondo--as only Jondo could--bore the news of my letter to
+  Esmond Clarenden, he made no reply, but sat like an image of
+  stone. Rex Krane broke down and sobbed as if his heart would
+  break. But Mat, calm, poised, and always merciful, merely
+  said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "We must wait awhile."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was many days before she broke the news to Eloise St. Vrain,
+  who only smiled and said:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail is mistaken. Beverly couldn't desert."<br>
+  <br>
+  It was when the word came to Aunty Boone that the storm broke.
+  They told me afterward that her face was terrible to see, and
+  that her eyes grew dull and narrow. She went out to the bluff's
+  edge and sat staring up the valley of the Kaw as if to see into
+  the hidden record of the coming years.<br>
+  <br>
+  One October day, when the Kranes and Eloise sat with my uncle and
+  Jondo in the soft afternoon air, looking out at the beauty of the
+  Missouri bluffs, Aunty Boone loomed up before them suddenly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I got somebody's fortune, just come clear before me," she
+  declared, in her soft voice. "Lemme see you' hand, Little
+  Lees!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise put her shapely white hand upon the big, black paw.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone patted it gently, the first and last caress she ever
+  gave to any of us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You' goin' to get a letter from a dark man. You' goin' to take a
+  long journey. And somebody goin' with you. An' the one tellin'
+  this is goin' away, jus' one more voyage to desset sands again,
+  and see Africy and her own kingdom. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Never before, in all the years that we had known her, had she
+  expressed a wish for her early home across he seas. Her voice
+  trailed off weirdly, and she gazed at the Kaw Valley for a long
+  moment. Then she said, in a low tone that thrilled her listeners
+  with its vibrant power:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Bev ain't no deserter. He's gone out! Jus' gone out.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  She disappeared around the corner of the house and stood long in
+  the little side porch where Beverly had kissed Little Blue Flower
+  one night in the "Moon of the Peach-Blossom," and Eloise had
+  found them there, and I had unwittingly heard what was said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is there no variation in palmistry?" Rex Krane asked. "I never
+  knew a gypsy in all my life who read a different set of
+  prophecies. It's always the dark man--I'm light (darn the
+  luck)--and a journey and a letter. But I thought maybe an African
+  seer, a sort of Voodo, hoodoo, bugaboo, would have it a light man
+  and a legacy and company coming, instead of you taking a journey,
+  Eloise."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise smiled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You musn't envy me my good fortune, Rex," she declared. "Aunty
+  Boone says she is going back to Africa, too. You'll need a new
+  cook, Uncle Esmond. Let me apply for the place right now."<br>
+  <br>
+  My uncle smiled affectionately on her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I could give you a trial, as I gave her. I remember I told her
+  if she could cook good meals I'd keep her; if not, she'd leave.
+  Do you want to take the risk?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "That's where you'll get your journey of the prophecy, Eloise,"
+  Jondo suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Well, you leave out the best part of it all," Mat broke in. "She
+  added that Beverly isn't a deserter, he's just 'gone out.' Why
+  don't you believe it all, serious or frivolous?"<br>
+  <br>
+  A shadow lifted from the faces there as a glimpse of hope came
+  slowly in.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And as to letters, Eloise," Uncle Esmond said, "I must beg your
+  pardon. I have one here for you that I had forgotten. It came
+  this morning."<br>
+  <br>
+  "See if it isn't from a dark man, inviting you to take a
+  journey," Rex suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It must be, it's from Santa F&eacute;," Eloise said, opening the
+  letter eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone had come back again and was standing by the corner of
+  the veranda, half hidden by vines, watching Eloise with steady
+  eyes. The girl's face grew pale, then deadly white, and her big,
+  dark eyes were opened wide as she dropped the letter and looked
+  at the faces about her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It is from Father Josef," she gasped. "He writes of Little Blue
+  Flower somewhere in Hopi-land. He asks me to go to Santa
+  F&eacute; at once for her sake. And it says, too--" The voice
+  faltered and Eloise turned to Esmond Clarenden. "It says that
+  Beverly is there somewhere and he wants you. Read it, Uncle
+  Esmond."<br>
+  <br>
+  As Eloise rose and laid the letter in my uncle's hand, Aunty
+  Boone, hidden by the vines, muttered in her soft, strange
+  tone:<br>
+  <br>
+  "He's jus' gone out. Thank Jupiter! He's jus' gone out. I'm
+  goin', hot streaks, to help him, too. Then I go to my own desset
+  where I'm honin' o to be, an' stay there till the judgment Day.
+  Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early morning of a rare October day upon the plains I sat
+  on my cavalry horse beside Fort Hays, waiting for one last word
+  from my superior officer, Colonel Moore. He was my uncle's
+  friend, and he had been kind to the Clarenden boys, as military
+  kindness runs.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are honorably discharged," he said. "Take these letters to
+  Fort Dodge. You will meet your friends there, and have some
+  safeguard from there on, by order of General Sheridan. God bless
+  you, Gail. You have ridden well. I wish you a safe journey, and I
+  hope you'll find your cousin soon. He was a splendid boy until
+  this happened. He may be cleared some day."<br>
+  <br>
+  "He is splendid still to me in spite of everything," I
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, yes," my colonel responded. "Never a Clarenden disgraced
+  the name before. That is why General Sheridan is granting you a
+  squad to help you. It is a great thing to have a good name.
+  Good-by."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Good-by. I thank you a thousand times," I said, saluting
+  him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And I thank you. A chain, you know, is as strong as its weakest
+  link. A cavalry troop is as able as its soldiers make it."<br>
+  <br>
+  He turned his horse about, and I rode off alone across the lonely
+  plains a hundred miles away toward old Fort Dodge, beside the
+  Arkansas River. Jondo and Rex were to meet me there for one more
+  trip on the long Santa F&eacute; Trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  Late September rains had blessed the valley of the Arkansas. The
+  level land about Fort Dodge showed vividly green against the
+  yellow sand-hills across the river, and the brown, barren bluffs
+  westward, where a little city would one day rise in pretty
+  picturesqueness. The scene was like the Garden of Eden to my eyes
+  when I broke through the rough ridges to the north on the last
+  lap of my long ride thither and hurried down to the fort. I grant
+  I did not appear like one who had a right to enter Eden, for I
+  was as brown as a Malayan. Nearly four months of hard riding,
+  sleeping on the ground, with a sky-cover, eating buffalo meat,
+  and drinking the dregs of slow-drying pools, had made a plainsman
+  of me, of the breed that long since disappeared. Golf-sticks and
+  automobile steering-wheels are held by hands to-day no less
+  courageous than those that swung the carbine into place, and
+  flung aside the cavalry bridle-rein in a wild onslaught in our
+  epic day. Each age grows men, flanked by the coward and the
+  reckless daredevil.<br>
+  <br>
+  Rex Krane was first to recognize me when I reached the fort.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, we are all here but Mat: Clarenden, Jondo, Aunty Boone, and
+  Little Lees; and a squad of half a dozen cavalry men are ready to
+  go with us." Rex drawled in his old Yankee fashion, hiding an
+  aching heart underneath his jovial greeting.<br>
+  <br>
+  "All of us!" I exclaimed.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. Here they all come!" Rex retorted.<br>
+  <br>
+  They all came, but I saw only one, veiling the joy in my eyes as
+  best I could. For with the face of Eloise before me, I knew the
+  hardest battle of my life was calling me to colors. I had
+  forgotten how womanly she was, or else her summer by the blessed
+  prairies that lap up to the edge of the quiet town of Burlingame
+  had brought her peace and helped her to put away sad memories of
+  her mother.<br>
+  <br>
+  Behind her--a black background for her fair, golden head--was
+  Aunty Boone.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Our girl was called to Santa F&eacute;, and Daniel here goes
+  with her. I couldn't stay behind, of course," my uncle said. "The
+  Comanches are making trouble all along the Cimarron, and we will
+  go up the Arkansas by the old trail route. It is farther, but the
+  soldiers say much safer right now, and maybe just as quick for
+  us. There is no load of freight to hinder us--two wagons and our
+  mounts. Besides, the cavalrymen have some matters to look after
+  near the mountains, or we might not have had their protection
+  granted us."<br>
+  <br>
+  The beauty of that early autumn on the plains and mountains
+  lingers in my memory still, though half a century has passed
+  since that journey on the old, long trail to Santa F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the closing of an Indian summer day we pitched our camp
+  outside the broken walls of old Fort Bent. Every day found me
+  near Eloise, although the same barrier was between us that had
+  risen up the day she left me in the ruined chapel by the San
+  Christobal River. Every day I longed to tell her what Beverly had
+  said to me the night he--went out. It was due her that she should
+  know how tenderly he had thought of her.<br>
+  <br>
+  The night was irresistible, soft and balmy for the time of year,
+  as that night had been long ago when we children were marooned
+  inside this stronghold. A thin, growing moon hung in the crystal
+  heavens and all the shadowy places were softened with gray tones.
+  Jondo and Uncle Esmond and Rex Krane were talking together. Aunty
+  Boone was clearing up after the evening meal. The soldiers were
+  about their tasks or pastimes. Only Eloise and I were left beside
+  the camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let's go and find the place where we spent our last evening
+  here, Little Lees," I said, determined to-night to tell her of
+  Beverly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And just as many other places as we can remember," Eloise
+  replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  We clambered over heaps of fallen stone in the wide doorway, and
+  stood inside the half-roofless ruin that had been a stronghold at
+  the wilderness crossroads.<br>
+  <br>
+  The outer walls were broken here and there. The wearing elements
+  were slowly separating the inner walls and sagging roofs. Heaps
+  of debris lay scattered about. Over the caving well the
+  well-sweep stuck awry, marking a place of danger. Everywhere was
+  desolation and slow destruction.<br>
+  <br>
+  We sat down on some fallen timbers in the old court and looked
+  about us.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It was a pity that Colonel Bent should have blown up this
+  splendid fortress, and all because the Government wouldn't pay
+  him his price for it," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Destroyed what he had built so carefully, and what was so
+  useful," Eloise commented. "Sometimes we wreck our lives in the
+  same way."<br>
+  <br>
+  I have said the twilight seemed to fit her best, although at all
+  times she was fair. But to-night she was a picture in her
+  traveling dress of golden brown, with soft, white folds about her
+  throat. I wondered if she thought of Beverly as she spoke. It
+  hurt me so to be harsh with his memory.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, Charlie Bent blew up all that the Colonel built into him,
+  of education and the ways of cultured folks--a leader of a Dog
+  Indian band, he is a piece of manhood wrecked. And by the way," I
+  went on, "Beverly shot his beautiful white horse on the Prairie
+  Dog Creek. You should have seen that shot. It was the cleanest
+  piece of long-range marksmanship I ever saw. He hated Bev for
+  that."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Maybe he gloats over our lost Beverly to-day. He is only 'gone
+  out' to me," Eloise said softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let me tell you something, Little Lees. Beverly and I never
+  spoke of you--you can guess why--until that last night beside the
+  Smoky Hill. He wanted to tell me something that night."<br>
+  <br>
+  "And did he?" Eloise asked, eagerly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "No. He said honor was something with him still. I thought he
+  meant to tell me of himself and you. Forgive me. I do not want
+  any confidences not freely given. But now I know it was the
+  struggle in which he went down that night that he wanted to tell
+  me about. He said first, 'I'm homesick. I'd like to see Little
+  Lees.' And his eyes were full of sympathy as he looked at
+  me."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Did he say anything more?" Eloise's voice was almost a
+  whisper.<br>
+  <br>
+  "That was all. I thought that night I should hunt a lonely
+  trail--when he went home to claim--happiness. But now I feel that
+  I could live beside him always--to have him safe with us
+  again."<br>
+  <br>
+  As I turned to look at Eloise something was in her big, dark
+  eyes--something that disappeared at once. I caught only a
+  fleeting glimpse of it, and I could not understand why a thrill
+  of something near to happiness should sweep through me. It was
+  but the shadow of what might have been for me and was not.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Do you recall our prophecies here that night when we were
+  children?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, every one. Mat wanted a home, Bev to fight the Indians, and
+  you wanted me to keep Marcos Ramero in his place. I tried to do
+  it," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  And both of us recalled, but did not speak of, the warm, childish
+  kiss of Little Lees upon my lips, and how we gripped hands in the
+  shadows when the moon went cold and grey. Life was so simple
+  then.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It may be, if our problems and our tragedies crowd into our
+  younger years, they clear the way for all the bright, unclouded
+  years to follow," Eloise said, as we rose to go back to the
+  camp-fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope they will leave us strong to meet the bright, unclouded
+  years," I answered her.<br>
+  <br>
+  On the next day the cavalrymen left us for a time, and we went on
+  alone southward toward our journey's end.<br>
+  <br>
+  Autumn on the mountain slopes, and in the mesa-girdled valleys of
+  New Mexico hung rainbow-tinted lights by day, with star-beam
+  pointed paths trailing across the blue night-sky. And all the
+  rugged beauty of a picturesque land, basking in lazy warmth,
+  out-breathing sweet, pure air, made the old trail to Santa
+  F&eacute; an enchanting highway to me, despite the burden of a
+  grief that weighed me down. For I could not shut from my mind the
+  pitiful call of Little Blue Flower that had come to Eloise, nor
+  all the uncertainty surrounding my cousin somewhere in the
+  Southwest wanting us.<br>
+  <br>
+  The little city of adobe walls seemed not to have changed a
+  hair's turn in the six years since I had seen it last. Out beyond
+  the sandy arroyo again Father Josef waited for us. The same
+  strong face and dark eyes, full of fire, the same erect form and
+  manly bearing were his. Except for a few streaks of gray in his
+  close-cropped hair the years had wrought no change in him, save
+  that his countenance betokened the greater benediction of a godly
+  life upon it. As we rode slowly to the door of San Miguel I fell
+  behind. The years since that day when the saucy little girl had
+  called me a big, brown, bob-cat here came back upon my mind, and,
+  though my hope had vanished, still I loved the old church.<br>
+  <br>
+  Before we had passed the doorway Eloise left her wagon and stood
+  beside my horse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, let us stop here with Father Josef while the others go
+  down to Felix Narveo's. It always seems so peaceful here."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are always welcome here, my children," Father Josef said,
+  graciously, as I leaped from my horse and stuck its lariat pin
+  down beside the doorway.<br>
+  <br>
+  Inside there were the same soft lights from the high windows, the
+  same rare old paintings about the altar, the same seat beside the
+  door.<br>
+  <br>
+  The priest spoke to us in low tones befitting sanctuary
+  stillness. "You have come on a long journey, but it is one of
+  mercy. I only pray you do not come too late," he said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Tell us about it, Father," Eloise urged. "The men will get the
+  story from Felix Narveo, but Gail and I seem to belong up here."
+  She smiled up at me with the words.<br>
+  <br>
+  I could have almost hoped anew just then, but for the thought of
+  Beverly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Let us pray first," the holy man replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly and I had been confirmed in the Episcopalian faith once
+  long ago, but the plains were hard on the religion of a
+  high-church man. And yet, all sacred forms are beautiful to me,
+  and I always knew what reverence means.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You may not know," Father Josef said, "that I have Indian blood
+  in my veins--a Hopi strain from some French ancestors. Po-a-be,
+  our Little Blue Flower, is my heathen cousin, descended from the
+  same chief's daughter. The Hopi's faith is a part of him, like
+  his hand or eye, and I have never gained much with the tribe save
+  through blood-ties. But because of that I have their
+  confidence."<br>
+  <br>
+  "You have all men's confidence, Father Josef," I said,
+  warmly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank you, my son," the priest replied. "When Santan, the
+  Apache, came back from a long raid eastward, he told Little Blue
+  Flower that Beverly had spared his life beside a poisoned spring
+  in the Cimarron valley, urging him to go back and marry her; life
+  had other interests now to white men who must forget all about
+  Indian girls, he declared, and with Apache adroitness he pressed
+  his claims upon her. But Santan had slain Sister Anita beside the
+  San Christobal Arroyo. A murderer is abhorrent to a Hopi, who
+  never takes life, save in self-defense or in legitimate
+  warfare--if warfare ever is legitimate," he added, gravely.<br>
+  <br>
+  "My little cousin was heart-broken, for all the years since her
+  rescue at Pawnee Rock she had cherished one face in memory; and
+  maybe Beverly in his happy, careless way had given her cause to
+  do so."<br>
+  <br>
+  "We understand, I think," Eloise said, turning inquiringly to
+  me.<br>
+  <br>
+  I nodded, and Father Josef went on. "She knew her love was
+  foolish, but few of us are always wise in love. So Santan's suit
+  seemed promising for a time. But the Hopi type ran true in her,
+  and she put off the Apache year after year. It is a strange case
+  in Indian romance, but romance everywhere is strange enough. The
+  Apache type also ran true to dogged purpose. Besides being an
+  Apache, Santan has some Ramero blood in his veins, to be
+  accounted for in the persistence of an evil will. He was as
+  determined to win Po-a-be as she that he should fail. And he was
+  cunning in his schemes."<br>
+  <br>
+  Father Josef paused and looked at Eloise.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To make the story short," he began again, "Santan could not make
+  the Hopi woman hate Beverly, although she knew that her love was
+  hopeless, as it should be. Pardon me, daughter," Father Josef
+  said, gently. "She heard you two talking in a little porch one
+  night at the Clarenden home, and she has believed ever since that
+  you are lovers. That is why she sent for you to come to help her
+  now."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I saw Beverly give Little Blue Flower a brotherly kiss that
+  night, and I told him, frankly, how it grieved me, because I had
+  known at St. Ann's about her love for him. I had urged her to go
+  with me to the Clarendens', hoping that when she saw Beverly
+  again she would quit dreaming of him."<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked away, at the paintings and the crucifix above the altar,
+  and the long shafts of light on gray adobe walls, wondering,
+  vaguely, what the next act of this drama might reveal.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Beverly was always lovable," Father Josef said. "But now the
+  message comes that he is out in the heart of Hopi-land, and
+  because Little Blue Flower is protecting him her people may turn
+  against her. For Beverly's sake, and for her sake, too, my
+  daughter, we must start at once to find her and maybe save his
+  life. She wants you. It is the call of sisterhood. Sister Gloria
+  and I will go with you. I have much influence with my Hopi
+  people."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Will they put Beverly to death?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I cannot tell, but--see how long the arm of hate can be, my
+  son--Santan, the Apache, has been informed of Beverly's coming by
+  Marcos Ramero, gambler and debauchee. And Marcos got it in some
+  way from Charlie Bent, a Cheyenne half-breed, son of old Colonel
+  Bent, a fine old gentleman. Maybe you knew young Bent?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes, he holds a grudge against the Clarenden name because we
+  made him play square with us at the old fort when we were
+  children," I told the priest. "He yelled defiance at us in the
+  battle on the Prairie Dog Creek last August. Bev shot his horse
+  from under him just to humble the insolent dog! Beverly never was
+  a coward," I insisted, all my affection for my cousin
+  overwhelming me.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This makes it clearer," Father Josef said. "Through Bent to
+  Ramero and Ramero to Santan, the word went, somehow. The Apache
+  has gathered up a band of the worst of his breed and they are
+  moving against the Hopis to get Beverly. You and Jondo and
+  Clarenden and Krane will join the little squad of cavalry you
+  left up in the mountains, and turn the Apache back, and all of us
+  must start at once, or we may be too late. May heaven bless our
+  hands and make them strong."<br>
+  <br>
+  We bowed in reverence for a moment. When we hurried from the dim
+  church into the warm October sunlight, Aunty Boone sat on the
+  door-step beside my horse.<br>
+  <br>
+  "'He's jus' gone out,' I told 'em so, back there on the Missouri
+  River. He's gone out an' I'm goin', hot streaks, to find him,
+  Little Lees. Whoo-ee!" <br></p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XXI" id="XXI">XXI</a><br>
+  <br>
+  IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  And though there's never a grave to tell,<br>
+  Nor a cross to mark his fall,<br>
+  Thank God! we know that he "batted well"<br>
+  In the last great Game of all.<br>
+                                  --SERVICE.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  We left Santa F&eacute; within an hour, and struck out toward the
+  unknown land where Beverly Clarenden, in the midst of uncertain
+  friends, was being hunted down by an Apache band. As our little
+  company passed out on the trail toward Agua Fria, I recalled the
+  day when we had gone with Rex Krane to this little village beside
+  the Santa F&eacute; River. Eloise and Father Josef and Santan and
+  Little Blue Flower were all there that day; and Jondo, although
+  we did not know it then. Rex Krane had told Beverly, going out,
+  that an Indian never forgets. In all the years Santan had not
+  forgotten.<br>
+  <br>
+  To-day we covered the miles rapidly. Jondo and Father Josef rode
+  ahead, with Esmond Clarenden and Felix Narveo following them;
+  then came Eloise St. Vrain with Sister Gloria; behind them, Aunty
+  Boone, with Rex and myself bringing up the rear. Three pack-mules
+  bearing our equipment went tramping after us with bobbing ears
+  and sturdy gait.<br>
+  <br>
+  I looked down the line of our little company ahead. The four men
+  in the lead were college chums once, and all of them had loved
+  the mother of the girl behind them. I have said the girl looked
+  best by twilight. I had not seen her in a coarse-gray
+  riding-dress when I said that. I had seen her when she needed
+  protection from her enemies. I had not seen her until to-day,
+  going out to meet hardship fearlessly, for the sake of one who
+  wanted her--only an Indian maiden, but a faithful friend. In the
+  plainest face self-forgetfulness puts a beauty all its own. That
+  beauty shone resplendent now in the beautiful face of Mary
+  Marchland's daughter.<br>
+  <br>
+  The world can change wonderfully in sixty minutes. As we rode out
+  toward the Rio Grande, the yellow sands, the gray gramma grass,
+  the purple sage, the tall green cliffs, and, high above, the
+  gleaming snow-crowned peaks, took on a beauty never worn for me
+  before. Why should a hope spring up within me that would die as
+  other hopes had died? But back of all my thought was the longing
+  to help Beverly, and a faith in Aunty Boone's weird, prophetic
+  grip on things unseen. He had just "gone out" to her--why not to
+  all of us? I could not understand Little Blue Flower's part in
+  this tragedy, so I let it alone.<br>
+  <br>
+  A day out from Santa F&eacute; we were joined by the little squad
+  of cavalrymen with whom we had parted company back at the Fort
+  Bent camping-place. With these we had little cause to dread
+  personal danger. The Apache band was a small, vicious gang that
+  could do much harm to the Hopis, but it seemed nothing for us to
+  fear.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our care was to reach Beverly before the Hopis should rise up
+  against Little Blue Flower, or the band led by Santan should fall
+  upon them. Father Josef had sent a runner on to tell them of our
+  coming and to warn them of the Apache raid. But runners sometimes
+  come to grief.<br>
+  <br>
+  It is easy enough now to sleep most of the hours away across the
+  and lands that lie between the Rockies and the Coast Range
+  mountains, where the great "through limiteds," swinging down
+  their long trail of steel, sweep farther in one day than we crept
+  in two long, weary weeks in that October fifty years ago. Only
+  Father Josef's unerring Indian accuracy brought us through.<br>
+  <br>
+  We crawled up rugged mountain trails and skirted the rims of
+  dizzy chasms; we wound through ca&ntilde;ons, with only narrow
+  streams for paths, between sheer walls of rock; we pitched our
+  camp at the bases of great, red sand stone mesas, barren of life;
+  we followed long, yellow ways over stretches of unending plain;
+  we wandered in the painted-desert lands, where all the colors God
+  has made bewilder with their beauty, in the barest, dreariest,
+  most unlovely bit of unfinished world that our great continent
+  holds; the lands forgotten, maybe, when, in Creation's busy week,
+  the evening and the morning were the sixth day, and the Great
+  Builder looked on His work and called it good.<br>
+  <br>
+  We found the Hopi trails, but not the Hopi clan that we were
+  seeking. We found Apache trails behind them, but only dimly
+  marked, as if they blew one moccasin track full of sand before
+  they made another.<br>
+  <br>
+  The October days were dreams of loveliness, and dawn and sunset
+  on the desert were indescribably beautiful. But the nights were
+  bitterly cold. Eloise and Sister Gloria were native to the
+  Southwest and they knew how to dress warmly for it. Aunty Boone
+  had never felt such chilling night breezes, but not one word of
+  complaint came from her lips in all that journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  One night we gathered into camp beneath the shelter of a little
+  butte. We had overtaken Father Josef's Indian runner an hour
+  before. He had not found the Hopis yet, and so we held a
+  council.<br>
+  <br>
+  "The Hopi is ahead of us northwest," the Indian declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Is the Apache following?" Jondo asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  The runner nodded. "They have been pursued, but they have slipped
+  away; the Apache goes north, they turn north-west. They take the
+  dry lands and the pine forests beyond; their last chance. If they
+  hold out till the Apache leaves, they will return safely. You
+  follow them, wait for them, or go back without them. It is your
+  choice."<br>
+  <br>
+  We turned toward the three women, one in the bloom of her young
+  womanhood, one with the patient endurance of the nun, one black
+  and strong and always unafraid.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I do not want to leave Little Blue Flower in her hour of peril,"
+  Eloise said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I can go where I am needed," Sister Gloria declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "This is my land, I never know Africa was right out here. I
+  thought they was oceans on both sides of it. I go where Bev's
+  gone out an then I come here and stay. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  We smiled at her mistaken dream of her far African home, and,
+  cheering one another on, when morning came we moved
+  northwest.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo rode beside me all that day, and we talked of many
+  things.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail," he said, "Aunty Boone is right. This is her Africa. I
+  don't believe she will ever leave it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "She can't stay here, Jondo," I replied.<br>
+  <br>
+  "She will, though. You will see. Did she ever fail to have her
+  way?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "No. She is a type of her own, never to be reproduced, but like a
+  great dog in her faithful loyalty," I declared.<br>
+  <br>
+  "And shrewder than most men," Jondo went on. "She supplied the
+  lost link with Santan for me last night. Years ago, when Little
+  Blue Flower brought me a message from Father Josef on the morning
+  that we took Eloise from Santa F&eacute;, I caught a glimpse of
+  the Apache across the plaza and read the message--'<i>trust the
+  bearer anywhere</i>'--to mean that boy. Aunty Boone had just
+  peered out and scared the little girl away. She told me all about
+  it last night, when she was bewailing Beverly's hard fate. How
+  small a thing can open the road to a big tragedy. I trusted that
+  whelp till that day at San Christobal."<br>
+  <br>
+  "I hope we will finish this soon," I said. "I don't understand
+  Beverly at all and I marvel at Little Blue Flower's love for him.
+  Don't you?"<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo looked up with a pathos in his dark-blue eyes.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Don't hurry, Gail. The trails all end somewhere soon. Life is a
+  stranger thing from day to day, but the one thing that no man
+  will ever fully understand is a woman's love for man. There is
+  only one thing higher, and that is mother-love."<br>
+  <br>
+  "The kind that you and Uncle Esmond have," I said.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, I am only a man, but Clarenden has a woman's heart, as you
+  and Beverly and my sister's child all know."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Your sister's child?" I gasped.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Yes. When her parents went with yellow fever, too, I could not
+  adopt Mat--you know why. Clarenden did it for me. She has always
+  known that I am her uncle, but Mat was always a self-contained
+  child."<br>
+  <br>
+  I loved Mat more than ever from that hour.<br>
+  <br>
+  The next day our trail ran into pine forests, where tall, shapely
+  trees point skyward. Not a dense woodland, but a seemingly
+  endless one. Snows lay in the darker places, and here and there
+  streams trickled out into the sunlight, whose only sources were
+  these melting snows. It was a land of silence and loneliness--a
+  land forgotten or unknown to record. The Hopi trail was stronger
+  here and we followed it eagerly, but night overtook us early in
+  the forest.<br>
+  <br>
+  That evening we gathered about a huge fire of pine boughs beneath
+  a low stone ridge covered with evergreen trees that sheltered us
+  warmly from the sharp west winds. We heard the cries of
+  night-roving beasts, and in the darkness, now and then, a pair of
+  gleaming eyes, seen for an instant, and then the rush of feet,
+  told us that some wild creature had looked for the first time on
+  fire.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To-morrow night will see our journey's end," Jondo declared.
+  "The Hopi can't be far away, and I'm sure they are safe yet, and
+  we shall reach them before the Apache does."<br>
+  <br>
+  The Indian runner's face did not change its blankness, but I felt
+  that he doubted Jondo's judgment. That night he slipped away and
+  we never saw him again.<br>
+  <br>
+  We were all hopeful that night, and hopeful the next morning when
+  we broke camp early. A trail we had not seen the night before ran
+  up the low ridge to the west of us. Eloise and I followed it up a
+  little way, riding abreast. The ridge really was a narrow, rocky
+  tableland, and beyond it was another higher slope, up which the
+  same trail ran. The trees were growing smaller and the sky flowed
+  broad and blue above their tops. The ground was only rock, with a
+  thin veneer of soil here and there. Gnarled, stunted cedars and
+  gray, twisted cypress clung for a roothold to these barren
+  ledges. The morning breeze swept, sharp and invigorating, out of
+  a broad open space beyond the edge of this rocky woodland height.
+  Eloise and I pushed on a little farther, leaving the others still
+  on the narrow shelf above our camping-place.<br>
+  <br>
+  Suddenly, as we rode out of the closer timber to where the
+  scattered growths were hardly higher than our heads, the first
+  heaven and the first earth seemed to pass away--not in
+  irreverence I write it--and we stood face to face with a new
+  heaven and a new earth--where, in the Grand Ca&ntilde;on of the
+  Colorado River, the sublimity of the Almighty Builder's beauty
+  and omnipotence was voiced in one stupendous Word, wrought in
+  enduring color in everlasting stone. Cleaving its way westward to
+  some far-off sea, a wide abyss, a dozen miles across from lip to
+  lip, yawned down to the very vitals of the earth. We stood upon
+  the rim of it--a sheer cliff that dropped a thousand feet of
+  solid limestone, in one plummet line, to other cliffs below, that
+  dropped again through furlongs of black gneiss, red sandstone,
+  and gray granite.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beyond this mighty chasm great forest trees were, to our eyes,
+  only as weeds along its rim. Between that rim and ours we could
+  look down upon high mountain buttes and sloping red tablelands,
+  and dizzy gorges with pinnacled walls and towers and domes--vast
+  forms no pen will ever picture--not hurled in wild confusion by
+  titan fury, but symmetrical and purposeful and calm.<br>
+  <br>
+  Through slowly crawling millions of patiently wearing years,
+  while stars grew old and perished from the firmament, with cloud,
+  and frost, and wind, and water, and sharp cutting sands, these
+  strata of the old earth's crust were chiseled into gigantic
+  outlines, and all the worn-down, crumbled atoms of debris were
+  swept through long, tortuous leagues of distance toward the sea
+  by a mad river swirling through the lowest depths. A mile
+  straight down, as the crow never flies here, it rushes, but to us
+  the river was a mere creek, seen only where the lower gorges open
+  to the channel.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early light of that October morning the weird, vast shapes
+  that filled, the abyss were bathed in a bewildering opulence of
+  color. Pale gold along the farther rim, with pink and amber, blue
+  and gray, and heliotrope and rose--all blending softly, tone on
+  tone. Deeper, the heart of every rift and chasm that flows into
+  the one stupendous mother-rift was full of purple shadows. Not
+  the thin lavender of the upper world where we must live, but
+  tensely, richly regal, beyond words to paint; with silvery mists
+  above, soft, filmy veils that draped the jutting rocks and
+  rounded each harsh edge, melting pink to rose and gray to violet.
+  Eternal silence brooded over all this symbol, wrought in visible
+  form, of His Almightiness, to whom a thousand years are as a day,
+  and in the hollow of whose hand He holds the universe.
+  Measureless, motionless, voiceless, it seemed as if all the
+  ca&ntilde;ons of all the mountains of our great contienent
+  might have given to it here their awful depth and height and
+  rugged strength; their picturesqueness, color, graceful outlines,
+  dizzy steeps and awe-inspiring lengths and breadths. And fusing
+  all these into itself, height on height, and breadth on breadth,
+  entrancing charm on charm, with all the hues that the Great
+  Alchemist can throw from His vast prism, it seemed to say:<br>
+  <br>
+  "'Twas only in a vision that St. John saw the four-square city
+  whose twelve gates are each a single pearl! whose walls are
+  builded on foundation stones of jasper, sapphire, and chalcedony,
+  emerald and topaz, chrysolite and amethyst; whose streets are of
+  pure gold, like unto clear glass; whose light is ever like unto a
+  stone most precious.<br>
+  <br>
+  "To you who may not dream the vision beautiful, the Mighty Maker
+  of all things sublime has given me a token here in finite stone
+  and earthly coloring of that undreamed sublimity of all things
+  omnipotent."<br>
+  <br>
+  My companion and I sat on our horses speechless, gazing down at
+  this overwhelming marvel below us. We forgot ourselves, each
+  other, our companions of the journey, its purpose, Beverly, and
+  his enemy Santan, the desert, the brown plains, green prairies,
+  rivers, mountains, the earth itself, as we stood there in the
+  shadow of the Infinite.<br>
+  <br>
+  At last we turned and looked into each other's eyes for one long
+  moment. In its space we read the old, old story through, and a
+  great, up-leaping joy illumined our faces. God, who had let us
+  know each other, had let us stand by <i>this</i> to feel the
+  barrier of misunderstanding fall away.<br></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <p><br>
+  A sound of horses' hoofs on the rocky slope below us, a weird
+  Indian call, and a great shout from our calverymen drew us
+  to earth again. The Hopis were coming. Father Josef knew the
+  signal. Our Indian runner had found them in the night and sent
+  them toward us. We dashed into the forest, keeping close
+  together; and here, a mile away, under green pines, surrounded by
+  a little group of a desert Hopi clan, was Beverly Clarenden--big,
+  strong, unhurt and joyful. And Little Blue Flower.<br>
+  <br>
+  The years since that far night when I had seen two maidens in
+  Grecian robes beside the Flat Rock in the "Moon of the Peach
+  Blossom," had left no trace on Eloise St. Vrain, save to imprint
+  the graces of womanliness on her girlish face. But the
+  picturesque Indian maiden of that night looked aged and sorrowful
+  in the pine forest of her native land, bent, as she was, with the
+  dull existence of her own people; she, who had known and loved a
+  different form of life. Only the big, luminous eyes held their
+  old charm.<br>
+  <br>
+  We came together in a little open space with pine-trees all about
+  us. The minutes went swiftly then--and I must hurry to what came
+  hurrying on, for much of it is lost in mist and wonder.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the moment of glad reunion Aunty Boone suddenly gave a whoop
+  the like of which I had never heard before, and, dashing wildly
+  toward Eloise and Sister Gloria, she drove them in a fierce
+  charge straight back into the shelter of the pine-trees.<br>
+  <br>
+  At the same time a sudden rain of bullets, like a swift
+  hail-storm, and a yell--the Apache cry of vengeance--filled the
+  air. Long afterward we learned that our Indian runner had met
+  this band and tried to turn it back--and failed. He would have
+  saved us if he could.<br>
+  <br>
+  It was over soon--that encounter in the forest where each tree
+  was a shield. The cavalrymen and maybe, too, we who had been
+  plainsmen, knew how to drive back a villianous handful of
+  Apaches. In any other moment since we had ridden out of Sante
+  F&eacute; we would have laughed at such a struggle. They
+  took us in the most unguarded instant of that fortnight's
+  journey.<br>
+  <br>
+  The Hopis fled wildly out of sight. Here and there, from the
+  defeated, scattered band, an Apache warrior sprang back and lost
+  himself quickly in the shadows. But Santan, plunging into our
+  very midst, seized Little Blue Flower in his iron grip, and the
+  bullet from a cavalry carbine, meant for him, struck her.<br>
+  <br>
+  He laughed and threw her back and, whirling, dashed--into the
+  arms of Aunty Boone--and stopped.<br>
+  <br>
+  We carried our wounded tenderly up the steep wooded slope and out
+  into the sweet sunlight of its crest, where we laid them down
+  beside that wondrous rift with its shimmering mist and velvet
+  shadows, and colorings of splendor, folded all in the
+  magnificence of its immensity and its eternal silence.<br>
+  <br>
+  We knew that Jondo's wound was mortal, and Father Josef and
+  Eloise and Rex Krane sat beside him, as the brave eyes looked out
+  across the sublimity of earthly beauty toward the far land no eye
+  hath seen, facing, unafraid, the outward-leading trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  But Beverly was in the prime of young manhood, and we felt sure
+  of him, as Esmond Clarenden and Sister Gloria; and I ministered
+  to his wants.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It's no use, Gail." My cousin lifted a pleading face to mine a
+  moment, as on that day, years ago on the parade-ground at Fort
+  Leavenworth. Then the bright smile came back to stay.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, Bev, you have a life before you, and you aren't the only
+  Eighteenth Kansas man who deserted. We can pull you through
+  somehow--and people will forget. Even General Sheridan was
+  willing to send a squad with us, on the possibility of a mistake
+  somewhere."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Deserted!" Beverly's voice was too strong for a dying man's.
+  "Uncle Esmond, Jondo, Eloise--all of you--Gail calls me a
+  deserter. Me! Knock him over that precipice, won't some of
+  you?"<br>
+  <br>
+  We listened eagerly as he went on:<br>
+  <br>
+  "Why, don't you know that Charlie Bent and his renegade dogs
+  crawled into camp like snakes and carried me out by force. They
+  had a time of it, too, but never mind. Bent told me he left a
+  note for you. I supposed he would say I was dead. And when Gail
+  stirred, half awake, he went pacing around the camp, looking so
+  near like me I thought it was myself and I was Charlie Bent. I
+  was roped and gagged then, but I could see. Deserter! I'm glad I
+  got that white horse of his on the Prairie Dog Creek,
+  anyhow."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly's face paled suddenly and he lay still a little
+  while.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I'd better hurry." The smile was winsome. "They didn't give me a
+  ghost of a chance to escape, but they didn't harm a hair. They
+  kept me for a meaner purpose, and, well, I was landed, finally,
+  at Santan's door-step in the Apache-land. Santan offered to let
+  me go free if I'd persuade Little Blue Flower--dead down
+  there--to marry him. He had her come to me on pretense of my
+  sending for her. She hated the brute, and she was a woman, if she
+  was an Indian. I told him I'd see him in hell first, and I told
+  her never to give in. Poor girl! It was a cruel test, but Santan
+  knew how to be cruel. He said he'd fix me, and I guess he has
+  done it."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh no, Bev. You are good for a century," I declared,
+  affectionately, holding his head on my knee.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Little Blue Flower managed, somehow, to fool the Apache dog, and
+  we escaped and got away to her people," Beverly continued,
+  speaking more slowly, "then she sent word to Father Josef. But
+  the Hopi folks were scared about the Apaches coming against them
+  on account of harboring me, like a Jonah, among 'em; and they
+  were going to make it hard for Little Blue Flower. I don't know
+  heathen ethics in such things, but a handful of us had to cut for
+  it. I'm no deserter, though. Don't forget that. As soon as I
+  could be sure the little Indian woman's life was safe I was going
+  to get away and come home. I could not leave her to be sacrificed
+  after she had saved me from Santan's scalping-knife."<br>
+  <br>
+  Beverly paused and looked at us. His voice seemed weaker when he
+  spoke again:<br>
+  <br>
+  "I thought, sometimes, that even if I wasn't to blame for it, I
+  ought to take Little Blue Flower with me when I got away. Dear
+  little girl! she gave me one smile and whispered '<i>Lolomi</i>'
+  before she went just now. I told her long ago I was just
+  everybody's friend. I never meant to spoil anybody's life, and I
+  can meet her down at the end of the trail and never fear."<br>
+  <br>
+  Just then a half-wailing, half-purring cry came from Aunty Boone,
+  who was standing beside a gnarled cypress-tree.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I knowed the morning we picked up Little Blue Flower, back at
+  Pawnee Rock, we was pickin' up trouble for the rest of the trail.
+  I see it then. You can trust a nigger 'cause they never no
+  'count, but you don't know what you gettin' when you trust an
+  Indian. But, Cla'nden, that Apache Indian, Santan, ain't goin' to
+  trouble you no more. When the world ain't no fit place for folks
+  they needs helpin' out of it, and I sees to it they gets it, too.
+  Whoo-ee!" She paused and leaned against the crooked cypress. Half
+  turning her face toward us, she continued in a clear, soft
+  voice:<br>
+  <br>
+  "That man they call Ramero down in Santy Fee--I knowed him when
+  he was just Fred Ramer back in the rice-fields country. His
+  father, old man Ramer, tried to kill me once, 'cause he said I
+  knowed too much. I helped him into kingdom come right then and
+  saved a lot of misery. They blamed some other folks, I guess, but
+  they never hunted me up at all. Good-by, Clan'den, and you, too,
+  Felix, and Dick Verra. I've knowed you all these years, but
+  nobody takes no 'count of niggers' knowin's. Good-by, Little
+  Lees, and all you boys. I'll see you again pretty soon, I'm goin'
+  back to my desset now. It's over yonder just a little way.
+  Jondo--but you won't be John Doe then. Whoo-ee!"<br>
+  <br>
+  Aunty Boone slowly settled down beside the cypress, with her face
+  toward her beloved "desset," and when we went to her a little
+  later, her eyes, still looking eastward, saw nothing earthly any
+  more forever.<br>
+  <br>
+  Jondo's face seemed glorified as he caught Aunty Boone's last
+  words, and his voice was sweet and clear as he looked up at
+  Eloise bending over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Thank God! It is all made right at last. Eloise, the charge of
+  murder against your father's name would have broken the heart of
+  the woman that I always loved--your mother. One of us had to bear
+  the shame. I took the guilt on myself for her sake--and for
+  yours. I have walked the trails of my life a nameless man, but I
+  have kept my soul clean in God's sight, and I know His name will
+  soon be written on my forehead over there."<br>
+  <br>
+  He gazed out toward the glorious beauty of the view beyond him,
+  then closed his eyes, and, bravely as he had lived, so bravely he
+  went forth on the Long Trail, leaving a name sweet with the
+  perfume of self-sacrifice and love.<br>
+  <br>
+  We did not speak of him to Beverly, for our boy had suddenly
+  grown restless, and his blood was threshing furiously in his
+  veins, and he was in pain, but only briefly.<br>
+  <br>
+  Presently he said, "Let us be alone a little." The others drew
+  away.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Lean down, Gail. I want to tell you something." He smiled
+  sweetly upon me as I bent over him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I tried to tell you back on the Smoky Hill, but I'd promised not
+  to. And honor was something to me still. But I'm going pretty
+  soon. So listen! I loved Eloise always--always. But she never
+  cared for me. She was only my good chum. I've been too
+  happy-hearted all my days, though, Gail, to make a cross of
+  anything that would break me down. Men differ so, you know, and I
+  never was a dreamer like you. Turn me a little, won't you, so
+  that I can see that awful beauty down there."<br>
+  <br>
+  I lifted his shoulders gently and placed him where his eyes could
+  rest on the majestic scene spread out before him.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise loves you, but she thinks you would not marry her because
+  they say her father was a murderer. I don't believe that, Gail. I
+  told her that you didn't, either, not one little minute. You care
+  for her, I know, and losing her will break your heart. I tried to
+  tell you long ago, but Little Lees made me promise not to say a
+  word that night at Burlingame when you had gone away and I
+  thought maybe I had a half-chance with her. Tell me you'll make
+  her happy, Gail."<br>
+  <br>
+  "Oh, Beverly, I'll do my best," I murmured, softly.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Come closer, Gail. Look at those colors there. Is it so far
+  across, or only seeming so? And see the soft white clouds drop
+  purple shadows down. Is that the way the trail runs? How
+  beautiful it must be farther on. Good-by, old boy of my heart's
+  heart, and don't forget, however long the years, and wide away
+  your feet may go, to keep the old trail law. 'Hold fast.'"<br>
+  <br>
+  We laid them away in the deep pine forest--Aunty Boone, of
+  strange, prophetic vision; Santan, the cruel Indian; the loyal
+  Hopi maiden; Jondo and Beverly. God made them all and in His
+  heaven they will be rightly placed.<br>
+  <br>
+  Beside the ca&ntilde;on's rim, in the soft twilight hour of that
+  October day, Eloise St. Vrain and I plighted our troth, till
+  death us do part--for just a little while. Plighted it not in
+  happy, selfish affection, such as youth and maiden give,
+  sometimes, each to each; but in the deep, marvelous love of man
+  and woman pledged where, in sacred moments on that day, we had
+  seen the mortal put on immortality. To us there could be no
+  grander, richer, lovelier setting for life's best and holiest
+  hour than here, where, upon things finite, there rests the
+  beneficent uplifting beauty that shadows forth the Infinite. </p>
+  <hr>
+
+
+
+  <h1>IV<br>
+  <br>
+  <a name="REMEMBERING" id="REMEMBERING">REMEMBERING THE
+  TRAIL</a></h1>
+
+
+
+  <h3><a name="XXII" id="XXII">XXII</a><br>
+  <br>
+  THE GOLDEN WEDDING</h3>
+
+  <p class="blkquot"><br>
+  The heart that's never old! Oh the heart that's never old!--<br>
+  'Tis a vision of the lavender, the crimson and the gold<br>
+  Of an airy, fairy morning, when the sky is all ablaze<br>
+  With an ever-changing splendor, driving back the gloom and
+  haze!<br>
+  <br>
+  'Tis the vision of an orchard in the balmy month of May,<br>
+  Where the birds are ever singing, and the leaves are ever
+  gay;<br>
+  Where the sun is ever shining with a glory never told,<br>
+  And the trees are ever blooming--for the heart that's never
+  old!<br>
+  <br>
+                                          --JAMES E. HILKEY.</p>
+
+  <p><br>
+  The summers and winters of fifty golden years have brought to the
+  plains their balmy breezes and blazing heat, their soft,
+  life-giving showers, and their fierce, blizzard anger. And down
+  through these fifty years Eloise St. Vrain and I have walked the
+  love trails of the plains together.<br>
+  <br>
+  In the early spring of this, our "golden-wedding" year, we sat on
+  the veranda of our suburban home in Kansas City, above the
+  picturesque Cliff Drive, rippling with automobiles. The same
+  drive winds in its course somewhere near the old, rough road that
+  once led from the Clarenden home, above the valley of the Kaw,
+  down to the little city of great promise--now fulfilled.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Eloise, youth may have a charm that is all its own," I said to
+  my wife, "but I wonder if it really matches the enduring charm of
+  age when one looks back on busy years of service."<br>
+  <br>
+  Eloise smiled up at me--the same gracious smile that has lighted
+  all my days with her.<br>
+  <br>
+  "You are a dreamer still, Gail. But dreams do so sweeten life and
+  keep the fires of romance forever burning."<br>
+  <br>
+  "When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door
+  of the old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you
+  looking like a big, brown bob-cat, or something else, that might
+  have slept in the Hondo 'Royo all your life. But withal a boy so
+  loyal to the helpless that you were willing to fight for me
+  against an assailant bigger than yourself. You became my prince
+  in that hour, and all my dreams since then have been of you. When
+  did romance begin with you, or have you forgotten in the busy
+  years of a life swallowed up in mercantile pursuits?"<br>
+  <br>
+  "My life may have been, as you say, swallowed up in building
+  trade that builds empire, but I have never forgotten the things
+  that make it fine to me," I answered her. "Romance for me began
+  one day, long ago, out on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth.
+  I've been a Vanguard of the Plains since then, bull-whacker for
+  the ox-teams that hauled the commerce of the West; cavalryman in
+  hard-wearing Indian campaigns that defended the frontier; and
+  merchant, giving measure for measure always, like that grand man
+  who taught me the worth of business--Esmond Clarenden."<br>
+  <br>
+  "On the parade-ground? How there?" Eloise asked.<br>
+  <br>
+  "It came the day that I first knew we were to go with Uncle
+  Esmond to Santa F&eacute;--for you. We didn't know that it was
+  for you then. I think I was born again that day into a daring
+  plainsman, who had been a sort of baby-boy before. I sat with Mat
+  and Beverly on the edge of the parade-ground, when I looked up to
+  see, with a boy's day-dreaming eyes, somewhere this side of misty
+  mountain peaks, a vision of a cloud of golden hair about a sweet
+  child face, with dark eyes looking into mine. That vision stayed
+  with me until, one morning, fifty years ago, on the rim of the
+  Grand Ca&ntilde;on--you looked into my eyes again and I knew my
+  life dream had come true."<br>
+  <br>
+  I rose and, bending over my wife's cloud of beautiful silvery
+  hair, I kissed her gently on each fair cheek.<br>
+  <br>
+  "Gail, why not take the old trail for our golden-wedding
+  anniversary--a long journey, clear to the mountains?" Eloise
+  suggested.<br>
+  <br>
+  "There is no trail now; only its ghost haunting the way," I
+  replied, "but, Little Lees, I don't believe that we who look back
+  on so many happy years, after the stormy ones of early life,
+  could find any other path half so dear to us as that long path we
+  knew in childhood and early youth, and the one we followed
+  together in our first years of mature womanhood and manhood."<br>
+  <br>
+  And so we did not celebrate one October day with all of our
+  children and grandchildren and friends coming to offer us gold
+  coins, gold-headed canes--which I do not use--and gold-rimmed
+  glasses for eyes that see farther and clearer than my spectacled
+  grandsons at the university can see to-day. We made a golden
+  summer of the thing and followed where, like a will-o'-the-wisp
+  of memory, the Santa F&eacute; Trail of threescore years ago
+  reached from the raw frontier at Independence on to the Missouri
+  bluffs, clear to the sunny valley of the Holy Faith.<br>
+  <br>
+  Only a headstone at long intervals shows the way now--a stone
+  that well might read:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">Here ran the old Santa F&eacute; Trail. This
+  stone, set here, is sacred to<br>
+  the memory of the Vanguards of the Plains who followed it.</p>
+
+  <p>They stand, these "markers" now, on hilltops and in deep
+  valleys; by country crossroads and where main streets cut each
+  other in the towns and villages. They ornament the city parks,
+  they show where splendid concrete bridges, re-enforced with
+  structural steel, span streams that once the ox-teams doubled and
+  trebled strength to ford. They gleam where corn grows tall and
+  black on fertile prairies; where seas of wheat have flooded
+  barren, burning plains, and perfumey alfalfa sweetens the air
+  above what was once grassless desolation. They whisper of a day
+  gone by among the silent mountains, where tunnels let the iron
+  trail run easily under the old trail's dizzy path. They nestle in
+  the shadows of gray-green cliffs and by red mesa heights; until
+  the last monument, sacred to the memory of a day forgotten,
+  speaks at the corner of the old Plaza in the heart of Santa
+  F&eacute;.<br>
+  <br>
+  That was a journey long to be remembered--the long,
+  golden-wedding journey of Gail Clarenden with his wife, Eloise
+  St. Vrain, and all of it was sweet with memories of other days.
+  Not in peril and privation and uncertainty did we follow the
+  trail now. The Pullman has replaced the Conestoga wagon, dainty
+  viands the coarse food smoke-blackened over camp-fires, and never
+  fear of Kiowa nor Comanche broke our slumber. The long shriek
+  that cuts the air of dawn was not from wild marauders on a
+  daybreak raid down lonely ca&ntilde;ons, but from the throats of
+  splendid, steel-wrought engines swinging forth upon their solid,
+  certain course.<br>
+  <br>
+  The prairies still lap up to the edges of the little town of
+  Burlingame, whose main street is still the old trail's path. The
+  well has long since disappeared from the center of the place.
+  Where once the thirsty gathered here to drink, there stands a
+  monument sacred to the memory of the old trail days. And sacred,
+  too, to the memory of the one far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger
+  Thompson, who first conceived the thought of marking for the
+  coming generations the course of commerce that built up the West
+  in years gone by.<br>
+  <br>
+  We never lived in Burlingame, where once--a heart-hungry little
+  boy--I longed to have a home. But the Krane children and their
+  children's children still make it an abiding-place for us.<br>
+  <br>
+  To Council Grove, and old Pawnee Rock, the Cimarron Crossing of
+  the Arkansas River, the open plain about the site of old Fort
+  Bent--where only ghosts of walls and the court remain, and on to
+  Santa F&eacute;, dreamy and picturesque--hoary with age, and
+  sweet with sacred memories, we wandered on our golden-wedding
+  trail.<br>
+  <br>
+  The name of Narveo in New Mexico still stands for gentleman. The
+  old church of San Miguel still shelters troubled hearts, and in
+  the San Christobal valley the Pictured Rocks still build up a
+  rude stair for feet that still may need the sanctuary rim of
+  safety set about them. Along the length of the old trail a
+  marvelous fifty years have enriched a history whose epic days
+  record the deeds of vanguards, who foreran and builded for the
+  softer days of golden-wedding years. The last lap of all that
+  wondrous journey bore us in ease and comfort beyond the
+  desert--the Africa, of Aunty Boone's weird fancy--to the Grand
+  Ca&ntilde;on of the Colorado. Here, as of old, the riven crust,
+  in its eternal silence, and sublimity, and beauty indescribable,
+  calmly, year by year, reveals its mighty purpose:</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">To quarry the heart of earth,<br>
+      Till, in the rock's red rise,<br>
+    Its age and birth, through an awful girth<br>
+    Of strata, should show the wonder-worth<br>
+      Of patience to all eyes.</p>
+
+  <p>Amid luxurious surroundings we lived the October days upon the
+  ca&ntilde;on's rim, where, half a century ago, we had gone in
+  hardship and looked on tragedy. We crept down all the dizzy
+  lengths to the very heart of it, and ate and slept in easy
+  comfort, and gazed upward at the sky-cleaving edges thousands of
+  feet above us; we stood beside the raging Colorado River, which
+  no man had explored when we first looked upon it here. In the
+  serene hours of our sunset years we went back in memory over the
+  long way our feet had come. Life is easy for us now, made so by
+  all the splendid, simple forces of those who, in justice,
+  honesty, and broad human sympathy build enduring empire. Not
+  empire gained by bomb and liquid fire, defended by sharp
+  entanglement and cross-trenched to shut out enemies; but empire
+  builded on the commerce of the land, value for value; empire of
+  bridged rivers, quick transportation on steel-marked trails that
+  girdle harvest fields and fruitful pastures; empire of homes and
+  schools and sacred shrines.<br>
+  <br>
+  Our fifty golden years have seen such empire rise and grow before
+  our eyes, made great by thrift and business sense, swayed by the
+  Golden Rule. An empire rich in love and sweet romance and
+  thrilling deeds of courage and self-sacrifice. Glad am I to have
+  been a vanguard of its trails upon the Kansas prairies and the
+  far Western plains, sure now, as always down the years, that its
+  old law is still a righteous one: To that which is good--</p>
+
+  <p class="blkquot">"HOLD FAST."</p>
+
+  <h1><br>
+  <br>
+  THE END</h1><br>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3>BOOKS BY<br>
+  SIR GILBERT PARKER</h3>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style=
+      "border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium"
+      width="40%" summary="BOOKS BY SIR GILBERT PARKER">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>THE WORLD FOR SALE</i><br>
+          <i>THE MONEY MASTER</i><br>
+          <i>THE JUDGMENT HOUSE</i><br>
+          <i>THE RIGHT OF WAY</i><br>
+          <i>THE LADDER OF SWORDS</i><br>
+          <i>THE WEAVERS</i><br>
+          <i>THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG</i><br>
+          <i>WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC</i><br>
+          <i>THE LANE THAT HAD NO TURNING</i><br>
+          <i>NORTHERN LIGHTS</i><br>
+          <i>PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE</i><br>
+          <i>AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH</i><br>
+          <i>A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS</i><br>
+          <i>CUMNER'S SON, AND OTHER</i><br>
+          <i>SOUTH SEA FOLK</i></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div><br>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h3>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</h3>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  <br>
+  BOOKS BY<br>
+  MARGARET DELAND</h3><br>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style=
+      "border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; border-width: medium"
+      width="40%" summary="BOOKS BY MARGARET DELAND">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>THE RISING TIDE.
+          Illustrated<br>
+          AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated<br>
+          THE COMMON WAY. 16mo<br>
+          DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated<br>
+          AN ENCORE. Illustrated<br>
+          GOOD FOR THE SOUL. Illustrated<br>
+          THE HINDS OF ESAU. Illustrated<br>
+          THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated<br>
+          THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated<br>
+          OLD CHESTER TILES. Illustrated<br>
+          PARTNERS. Illustrated<br>
+          R.J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated<br>
+          THE VOICE. Illustrated<br>
+          THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated<br>
+          WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Illustrated</i></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div><br>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  <br>
+  HARPER &amp; BROTHERS<br>
+  NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</h3>
+
+
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><br>
+  NOVELS OF<br>
+  THOMAS HARDY</h3>
+
+  <p><br>
+  <span>The New Thin-Paper Edition of the greatest living English
+  novelist is issued in two bindings: Red Limp-Leather and Red
+  Flexible Cloth, 12mo. Frontispiece in each volume.</span></p>
+
+  <div align="center">
+    <center>
+      <table style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none;"
+      width="30%" summary="NOVELS OF THOMAS HARDY">
+        <tr>
+          <td style="border: none"><i>DESPERATE REMEDIES<br>
+          FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD<br>
+          A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES<br>
+          THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA<br>
+          JUDE THE OBSCURE<br>
+          A LAODICEAN<br>
+          LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES<br>
+          THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE<br>
+          A PAIR OF BLUE EYES<br>
+          THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE<br>
+          TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES<br>
+          THE TRUMPET MAJOR<br>
+          TWO ON A TOWER<br>
+          UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE<br>
+          THE WELL-BELOVED<br>
+          WESSEX TALES<br>
+          THE WOODLANDERS</i><br>
+           <br>
+          <br>
+          <br></td>
+        </tr>
+      </table>
+    </center>
+  </div>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h3><span> <br></span><span>HARPER &amp;
+  BROTHERS<br></span><span>NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817
+  LONDON</span></h3>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span> <br></span></p>
+  <hr>
+
+  <h3><span><br></span>
+  <span> <br></span><span> <br></span><span> <br></span>
+  <span>RECENT BOOKS OF TRAVEL<br></span><span> <br></span></h3>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>IN VACATION AMERICA</i> By HARRISON RHODES</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>In this book of leisurely
+  wanderings the author journeys among the various holiday resorts
+  of the United States from Maine to Atlantic City, Newport, Bar
+  Harbor, the Massachusetts beaches, Long Island Sound, the Great
+  Lakes, Niagara, ever-young Greenbriar White and other Virginia
+  Springs, Saratoga, White Mountains, the winter resorts of
+  Florida, the Carolinas and California.</i> Illustrated in
+  Color</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>ALONG NEW ENGLAND ROADS </i><br></span><span>By WILLIAM C.
+  PRIME</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>All those who are on the lookout
+  for an unusual way to spend a vacation will find suggestions
+  here. This book of leisurely travel in New Hampshire and Vermont
+  has been reprinted to meet the demand for a work that has never
+  failed to charm since its first publication more than a decade
+  ago.</i> Illustrated</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span> <br>
+  <i>AUSTRALIAN BYWAYS</i> By NORMAN DUNCAN</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>In this book the author gives a
+  chatty account of his trip along the outskirts of Australian
+  civilization. The big cities were merely passed through, and the
+  journeying was principally by stage-coach, on camel-back, or by
+  small coastal steamers from Western Australia to New Guinea.</i>
+  Illustrated in Tint</span></p>
+
+  <h4><span><br>
+  <i>CALIFORNIA: An Intimate History</i><br>
+  By GERTRUDE ATHERTON</span></h4>
+
+  <p class="MsoPlainText"><span><i>The California of to-day and the
+  California of yesterday with its picturesque story, are set forth
+  in this book by the one writer who could bring to it the skill
+  united with that love for the task of a Californian-born,
+  Gertrude Atherton. This story of California covers the varied
+  history of the state from its earliest geological beginnings down
+  to the California of 1915.</i> Illustrated<br></span></p>
+
+  <h1>*        *        *        *        *</h1>
+
+  <h4><span>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS</span><br>
+  <span>NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON</span></h4>
+
+  <p>[Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have
+been preserved in this etext.] </p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 13345-h.htm or 13345-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/3/4/13345/
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg b/old/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b9c551
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-h/images/p001m.jpg
diff --git a/old/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg b/old/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c99efdc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345-h/images/p001s.jpg
diff --git a/old/13345.txt b/old/13345.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cab63f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11406 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Vanguards of the Plains
+
+Author: Margaret McCarter
+
+Release Date: August 31, 2004 [EBook #13345]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have
+been preserved in this etext.]
+
+
+VANGUARDS
+OF THE PLAINS
+
+[Illustration: I COULD NOT SPEAK THEN, FOR ONE SENTENCE WAS RINGING IN
+MY EARS--"I WAS ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU"]
+
+VANGUARDS OF
+THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL
+
+BY
+MARGARET HILL McCARTER
+
+AUTHOR OF
+_The Price of the Prairie_
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+[Illustration]
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+1917, Harper & Brothers
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+
+This story of the old Santa Fe Trail would do honor to the memory of
+those stalwart men who defied the desert, who walked the prairies
+boldly, and who died bravely--_vanguards_ in the building of a firm
+highway for the commerce of a westward-moving Empire.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+       FOREWORD
+
+PART I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+I. THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+II. A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+III. THE WIDENING HORIZON
+IV. THE MAN IN THE DARK
+V. WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+VI. SPYING OUT THE LAND
+VII. "SANCTUARY"
+VIII. THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+PART II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+IX. IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+X. THE HANDS THAT CLING
+XI. "OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+XII. THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+XIII. IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+XIV. OPENING THE RECORD
+XV. THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+XVI. FINISHING TOUCHES
+XVII. SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+PART III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+XVIII. WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+XIX. A MAN'S PART
+XX. GONE OUT
+XXI. IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+PART IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+XXII. THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+Westward, along the level prairies of a kingdom yet to be, my memory
+runs, with a clear vision of the days when romance died not and strong
+hearts never failed. The glamour of the plains is before my eyes; the
+tingle of courage, danger-born, is in my pulse-beat; the soft hand of
+love is touching my hand. I live again the drama of life wherein there
+are no idle actors, no stale, unmeaning lines. And beyond the action,
+this way _up_ the years, there runs also the forward-gazing vision
+toward a new Hesperides:
+
+
+       Through the veins
+  Of whose vast Empire flows, in strength'ning tides,
+  Trade, the calm health of nations.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+       And sometimes I would doubt
+  If statesmen, rocked and dandled into power,
+  Could leave such legacies to kings.
+
+
+
+I
+
+CLEARING THE TRAIL
+
+VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE SANTA FE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE BEGINNINGS OF A PLAINSMAN
+
+
+  There came a time in the law of life
+    When over the nursing sod
+  The shadows broke, and the soul awoke
+    In a strange, dim dream of God.
+ --LANGDON SMITH.
+
+
+It might have been but yesterday that I saw it all: the glinting
+sunlight on the yellow Missouri boiling endlessly along at the foot of
+the bluff; the flood-washed sands across the river; the tangle of tall,
+coarse weeds fringing them, edged by the scrubby underbrush. And beyond
+that the big trees of the Missouri woodland, so level against the
+eastern horizon that I used to wonder if I might not walk upon their
+solid-looking tops if I could only reach them. I wondered, too, why the
+trees on our side of the river should vary so in height when those in
+the eastern distance were so evenly grown. One day I had asked Jondo the
+reason for this, and had learned that it was because of the level ground
+on the farther side of the valley. I began then to love the level places
+of the earth. I love them still. And, always excepting that one titanic
+rift, where the world stands edgewise, with the sublimity of the
+Almighty shimmering through its far depths, I love them more than any
+other thing that nature has yet offered to me.
+
+But to come back to that picture of yesterday: old Fort Leavenworth on
+the bluff; the little and big ravines that billow the landscape about
+it; the faint lines of trails winding along the hillsides toward the
+southwest; the unclouded skies so everlastingly big and intensely blue;
+and, hanging like a spray of glorious blossoms flung high above me, the
+swaying folds of the wind-caressed flag, now drooping on its tall staff,
+now swelling full and free, straight from its gripping halyards.
+
+Between me and the fort many people were passing to and fro, some of
+whom were to walk with me down the long trail of years. Evermore that
+April day stands out as the beginning of things for me. Dim are the days
+behind it, a jumble of happy childish hours, each keen enough as the
+things of childhood go; but from that one day to the present hour the
+unforgotten deeds of busy years run clearly in my memory as I lift my
+pen to write somewhat of their dramatic record.
+
+And that this may not seem all a backward gaze, let me face about and
+look forward from the beginning--a stretch of canvas, lurid sometimes,
+sometimes in glorious tinting, sometimes intensely dark, with rifts of
+lightning cleaving through its blackness. But nowhere dull, nowhere
+without design in every brush-stroke.
+
+I had gone out on the bluff to watch for the big fish that Bill Banney,
+a young Kentuckian over at the fort, had told me were to be seen only on
+those April days when the Missouri was running north instead of south.
+And that when little boys kept very still, the fish would come out of
+the water and play leap-frog on the sand-bars.
+
+If I failed to see them this morning, I meant to run back to the
+parade-ground and play leap-frog myself with my cousin Beverly, who
+wanted proof for most of Bill Banney's stories. Beverly was growing wise
+and lanky for his age. I was still chubby, and in most things innocent,
+and inclined to believe all that I heard, or I should not have been
+taken in by that fish story.
+
+We were orphans with no recollection of any other home than the log
+house near the fort. We had been fathered and mothered by our uncle,
+Esmond Clarenden, owner of the little store across the square from our
+house, and a larger establishment down at Independence on the Missouri
+River.
+
+Always a wonderful man to me was that Esmond Clarenden, product of one
+of the large old New England colleges. He found time to guard our young
+years with the same diplomatic system by which he controlled all of his
+business affairs. He laid his plans carefully and never swerved from
+carrying them through afterward; he insisted on order in everything; he
+rendered value for value in his contracts; he chose his employees
+carefully, and trusted them fully; he had a keen sense of humor, a
+genial spirit of good-will, and he loved little children. Fitted as he
+was by culture and genius to have entered into the greater opportunities
+of the Eastern States, he gave himself to the real up-building of the
+West, and in the larger comfort and prosperity and peace of the Kansas
+prairies of to-day his soul goes marching on.
+
+The waters, as I watched them, were all running south toward that vague,
+down-stream world shut off by trees at a bend of the course. I waited a
+long time there for the current to shift to the north, wondering
+meanwhile about those level-topped forests, and what I might see beyond
+them if I were sitting on their flat crests. And, as I wondered, the
+first dim sense of being _shut in_ came filtering through my childish
+consciousness. I could not cross the river. Big as my playground had
+always been, I had never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff
+up-stream, nor down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the
+southwest. What lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and
+again. I had been a dreamer all of my short life, and this new feeling
+of being shut in, held back, from something slipped upon me easily.
+
+As I sat on the bluff in the April sunshine, I turned my face toward
+the west and stretched out my chubby arms for larger freedom. I wanted
+to _see the open level places_, wanted till it hurt me. I could cry
+easily enough for some things. I could not cry for this. It was too deep
+for tears to reach. Moreover, this new longing seemed to drop down on me
+suddenly and overwhelm me, until I felt almost as if I were caught in a
+net.
+
+As I stared with half-seeing eyes toward the wooded ravines beyond the
+fort, suddenly through the budding branches I caught sight of a horseman
+riding down a half-marked trail into a deep hollow. Horsemen were common
+enough to forget in a moment, but when this one reappeared on the hither
+side of the ravine, I saw that the rider's face was very dark, that his
+dress, from the sombrero to the spurred heel, was Mexican, and that he
+was heavily armed, even for a plainsman. When he reached the top of the
+bluff he made straight across the square toward my uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's little storehouse, and I lost sight of him.
+
+Something about him seemed familiar to me, for the gift of remembering
+faces was mine, even then. A fleeting childish memory called up such a
+face and dress somewhere back in the dim days of babyhood, with the
+haunting sound of a low, musical voice, speaking in the soft Castilian
+tongue.
+
+But the memory vanished and I sat a long time gazing at the wooded west
+that hid the open West of my day-dreams.
+
+Suddenly Jondo came riding up on his big black horse to the very edge
+of the bluff.
+
+"You are such a little mite, I nearly forgot to see you," he called,
+cheerily. "Your Uncle Esmond wants you right away. Mat Nivers, or
+somebody else, sent me to run you down," he added, leaning over to lift
+me up to a seat on the horse behind him.
+
+Few handsomer men ever graced a saddle. Big, broad-shouldered, muscular,
+yet agile, a head set like a Greek statue, and a face--nobody could ever
+make a picture of Jondo's face for me--the curling brown hair, soft as a
+girl's, the broad forehead, deep-set blue eyes, heavy dark brow, cheeks
+always ruddy through the plain's tan, strong white teeth, firm square
+chin, and a smile like sunshine on the gray prairies. Eyes, lips,
+teeth--aye, the big heart behind them--all made that smile. No grander
+prince of men ever rode the trails or dared the dangers of the untamed
+West. I did not know his story for many years. I wish I might never have
+known it. But as he began with me, so he ended--brave, beloved old
+Jondo!
+
+Down on the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden and Mat Nivers were sitting
+with their feet crossed under them, tailor fashion, facing each other
+and talking earnestly. Over by the fort, Esmond Clarenden stood under a
+big elm-tree. A round little, stout little man he was, whose sturdy
+strength and grace of bearing made up for his lack of height. Like a
+great green tent the boughs of the elm, just budding into leaf, drooped
+over him. A young army officer on a cavalry horse was talking with him
+as we came up.
+
+"Run over there to Beverly now. Gail," my uncle said, with a wave of his
+hand.
+
+I was always in awe of shoulder-straps, so I scampered away toward the
+children. But not until, child-like, I had stared at the three men long
+enough to take a child's lasting estimate of things.
+
+I carry still the keen impression of that moment when I took,
+unconsciously, the measure of the three: the mounted army man, commander
+of the fort, big in his official authority and force; Jondo on his great
+black horse, to me the heroic type of chivalric courage; and between the
+two, Esmond Clarenden, unmounted, with feet firmly planted, suggesting
+nothing heroic, nothing autocratic. And yet, as he stood there,
+square-built, solid, certain, he seemed in some dim way to be the real
+man of whom the other two were but shadows. It took a quarter of a
+century for me to put into words what I learned with one glance that day
+in my childhood.
+
+As I came running toward the parade-ground Beverly Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, Gail! Shut your little mouth and open your big ears, and
+I'll tell you something. Maybe I'd better not tell you all at once,
+though. It might make you dizzy," he added, teasingly.
+
+"And maybe you better had," Mat Nivers said, calmly.
+
+"Maybe you'd better tell him yourself, if you feel that way," Beverly
+retorted.
+
+"I guess I'll do that," Mat began, with a twinkle in her big gray eyes;
+but my cousin interrupted her.
+
+Beverly loved to tease Mat through me, but he never got far, for I
+relied on her to curb him; and she was not one to be ruffled by trifles.
+Mat was an orphan and, like ourselves, a ward of Esmond Clarenden, but
+there were no ties of kinship between us. She was three years older than
+Beverly, and although she was no taller than he, she seemed like a woman
+to me, a keen-witted, good-natured child-woman, neat, cleanly, and
+contented. I wonder if many women get more out of life in these days of
+luxurious comforts than she found in the days of frontier hardships.
+
+"Well, it's this way, Gail. Mat doesn't know the straight of it,"
+Beverly began, dramatically. "There's going to be a war, or something,
+in Mexico, or somewhere, and a lot of soldiers are coming here to drill,
+and drill, and drill. And then--"
+
+The boy paused for effect.
+
+"And then, and then, _and_ then--or some time," Mat Nivers mimicked,
+jumping into the pause. "Why, they'll go to Mexico, or somewhere. And
+what Bev is really trying to tell hasn't anything to do with it--not
+directly, anyhow," she added, wisely. "The only new thing is that Uncle
+Esmond is going to Santa Fe right away. You know he has bought goods of
+the Santa Fe traders since we couldn't remember. And now he's going down
+there himself, and he's going to take you boys with him. That's what
+Bev is trying to get out, or keep back."
+
+"Whoopee-diddle-dee!" Beverly shouted, throwing himself backward and
+kicking up his heels.
+
+I jumped up and capered about in glee at the thought of such a journey.
+But my heart-throb of childish delight was checked, mid-beat.
+
+"Won't Mat go, too?" I asked, with a sudden pain at my throat. Mat
+Nivers was a part of life to me.
+
+The smile fell away from the girl's lips. Her big, sunshiny gray eyes
+and her laughing good nature always made her beautiful to Beverly and
+me.
+
+"I don't want to go and leave Mat," I insisted.
+
+"Oh, I do," Beverly declared, boastingly. "It would be real nice and
+jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out on the
+prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were shooting
+Indians?"
+
+He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and arrow.
+But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered a sob.
+
+"She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden, and,
+besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo, and I reckon
+he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.
+
+Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of the
+orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the championship
+of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond Clarenden, who said little
+to children, and was instinctively trusted by all of them.
+
+With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes. It was
+never lost from them long at a time.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you keep _your_ little mouth shut and _your_ big
+ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the whole sheboodle better 'n
+any of you, and I'm not teasing and whimpering both at the same time,
+neither. Bev doesn't know anything except what I've told him, and I
+wasn't through when you got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war
+in Texas, and our soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look
+up at that flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars
+and Stripes go they _stay_."
+
+"Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied, pulling
+down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond hasn't
+anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he has been doing
+here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a merchant, and I guess he's
+just about as good as a general--a colonel, anyhow. But he's too short
+to fight, and too fat to run."
+
+"He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.
+
+"Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men that
+keeps things going everywhere."
+
+"I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
+straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he came
+here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war in
+Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa Fe, even if Uncle
+Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all a girl knows about
+things," Beverly insisted.
+
+Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked straight at the boy.
+
+"I don't pretend to know what I don't know, but I'll bet a million
+billion dollars there is something else besides just all this war stuff.
+I can't tell it, I just feel it. Anyhow, I'm to stay here with Aunty
+Boone till you come back. Girls can be trusted anywhere, but it may take
+the whole Army of the West, yet, to follow up and look after two little
+runty boys. And let me tell _you_ something, Bev, something I heard
+Aunty Boone say this morning." She said: "Taint goin' to be more 'n a
+minnit now till them boys grows up an' grows together, same size, same
+age. They been little and big, long as they goin' to be. Now you know
+what you're coming to."
+
+Mat was digging in the ground with a stick, and she flipped a clod at
+Beverly with the last words. Both of us had once expected to marry her
+when we grew up, unless Jondo should carry her away as his bride before
+that time. He was a dozen years older than Mat, who was only fourteen
+and small for her age. A flush always came to her cheeks when we talked
+of Jondo in that way. We didn't know why.
+
+We sat silent for a little while. A vague sense of desolateness, of the
+turning-places of life, as real to children as to older folk, seemed to
+press suddenly down upon all three of us. Ours was not the ordinary
+child-life even of that day. And that was a time when children had no
+world of their own as they have to-day. Whatever developed men and women
+became a part of the younger life training as well. And while we were
+ignorant of much that many children then learned early, for we had lived
+mostly beside the fort on the edge of the wilderness, we were alert, and
+self-dependent, fearless and far-seeing. We could use tools readily: we
+could build fires and prepare game for cooking; we could climb trees,
+set traps, swim in the creek, and ride horses. Moreover, we were bound
+to one another by the force of isolation and need for playmates. Our
+imagination supplied much that our surroundings denied us. So we felt
+more deeply, maybe, than many city-bred children who would have paled
+with fear at dangers that we only laughed over.
+
+No ripple in the even tenor of our days, however, had given any hint of
+the coming of this sudden tense oppression on our young souls, and we
+were stunned by what we could neither express nor understand.
+
+"Whatever comes or doesn't come," Beverly said at last, stretching
+himself at full length, stomach downward, on the bare ground, "whatever
+happens to us, we three will stand by each other always and always,
+won't we, Mat?"
+
+He lifted his face to the girl's. Oh, Beverly! I saw him again one day
+down the years, stretched out on the ground like this, lifting again a
+pleading face. But that belongs--down the years.
+
+"Yes, always and always," Mat replied, and then because she had a
+Spartan spirit, she added: "But let's don't say any more that way. Let's
+think of what you are going to see--the plains, the Santa Fe Trail, the
+mountains, and maybe bad Indians. And even old Santa Fe town itself. You
+are in for 'the big shift,' as Aunty Boone says, and you've got to be
+little men and take whatever comes. It will come fast enough, you can
+bet on that."
+
+Yesterday I might have sobbed on her shoulder. I did not know then that
+out on the bluff an hour ago I had come to the first turn in my
+life-trail, and that I could not look back now. I did know that I
+_wanted to go with Uncle Esmond._ I looked away from Mat's gray eyes,
+and Beverly's head dropped on his arms, face downward--looked at nothing
+but blue sky, and a graceful drooping flag; nothing but a half-sleepy,
+half-active fort; nothing but the yellow April floods far up-stream,
+between wooded banks tenderly gray-green in the spring sunshine. But I
+did not see any of these things then. Before my eyes there stretched a
+vast level prairie, with dim mountain heights beyond them. And marching
+toward them westward, westward, past lurking danger, Indians here and
+wild beasts there, went three men: the officer on his cavalry mount;
+Jondo on his big black horse; Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor on
+foot, it seemed, but going forward somehow. And between these three and
+the misty mountain peaks there was a face--not Mat Nivers's, for the
+first time in all my day-dreams--a sweet face with dark eyes looking
+straight into mine. And plainly then, just as plainly as I have heard it
+many times since then, came a call--the first clear bugle-note of the
+child-soul--a call to service, to patriotism, and to love.
+
+All that afternoon while Mat Nivers sang about her tasks Beverly and I
+tried to play together among the elm and cottonwood trees about our
+little home, but evening found us wide awake and moping. Instead of the
+two tired little sleepy-heads that could barely finish supper, awake,
+when night came, we lay in our trundle-bed, whispering softly to each
+other and staring at the dark with tear-wet eyes--our spiritual
+barometers warning us of a coming change. Something must have happened
+to us that night which only the retrospect of years revealed. In that
+hour Beverly Clarenden lost a year of his life and I gained one. From
+that time we were no longer little and big to each other--we were
+comrades.
+
+It must have been nearly midnight when I crept out of bed and slipped
+into the big room where Uncle Esmond and Jondo sat by the fireplace,
+talking together.
+
+"Hello, little night-hawk! Come here and roost," Jondo said, opening his
+arms to me.
+
+I slid into their embrace and snuggled my head against his broad
+shoulder, listening to all that was said. Three months later the little
+boy had become a little man, and my cuddling days had given place to
+the self-reliance of the fearless youngster of the trail.
+
+"Why do you make this trip now, Esmond?" Jondo asked at length, looking
+straight into my uncle's face.
+
+"I want to get down there right now because I want to get a grip on
+trade conditions. I can do better after the war if I do. It won't last
+long, and we are sure to take over a big piece of ground there when it
+is over. And when that is settled commerce must do the real building-up
+of the country. I want to be a part of that thing and grow with it. Why
+do you go with me?"
+
+My uncle looked directly at Jondo, although he asked the question
+carelessly.
+
+"To help you cross the plains. You know the redskins get worse every
+trip," Jondo answered, lightly.
+
+I stared at both of them until Jondo said, laughingly:
+
+"You little owl, what are you thinking about?"
+
+"I think you are telling each other stories," I replied, frankly.
+
+For somehow their faces made me think of Beverly's face out on the
+parade-ground that morning, when he had lifted it and looked at Mat
+Nivers; and their voices, deep bass as they were, sounded like Beverly's
+voice whispering between his sobs, before he went to sleep.
+
+Both men smiled and said nothing. But when I went to my bed again Jondo
+tucked the covers about me and Uncle Esmond came and bade me good
+night.
+
+"I guess you have the makings of a plainsman," he said, with a smile, as
+he patted me on the head.
+
+"The beginnings, anyhow," Jondo added. "He can see pretty far already."
+
+For a long time I lay awake, thinking of all that Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+had said to me. It is no wonder that I remember that April day as if it
+were but yesterday. Such days come only to childhood, and oftentimes
+when no one of older years can see clearly enough to understand the
+bigness of their meaning to the child who lives through them.
+
+All of my life I had heard stories of the East, of New York and St.
+Louis, where there were big houses and wonderful stores. And of
+Washington, where there was a President, and a Congress, and a strange
+power that could fill and empty Fort Leavenworth at will. I had heard of
+the Great Lakes, and of cotton-fields, and tobacco-plantations, and
+sugar-camps, and ships, and steam-cars. I had pictured these things a
+thousand times in my busy imagination and had longed to see them. But
+from that day they went out of my life-dreams. Henceforth I belonged to
+the prairies of the West. No one but myself took account of this, nor
+guessed that a life-trend had had its commencement in the small events
+of one unimportant day.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A DAUGHTER OF CANAAN
+
+
+  One stone the more swings to her place
+    In that dread Temple of Thy worth;
+  It is enough that through Thy grace
+    I saw naught common on Thy earth.
+
+
+The next morning I was wakened by the soft voice of Aunty Boone, our
+cook, saying:
+
+"You better get up! Revilly blow over at the fort long time ago. Wonder
+it didn't blow your batter-cakes clear away. Mat and Beverly been up
+since 'fore sunup."
+
+Aunty Boone was the biggest woman I have ever seen. Not the tallest,
+maybe--although she measured up to a height of six feet and two
+inches--not the fattest, but a woman with the biggest human frame,
+overlaid with steel-hard muscles. Yet she was not, in her way, clumsy or
+awkward. She walked with a free stride, and her every motion showed a
+powerful muscular control. Her face was jet-black, with keen shining
+eyes, and glittering white teeth. In my little child-world she was the
+strangest creature I had ever known. In the larger world whither the
+years of my manhood have led me she holds the same place.
+
+She had been born a princess of royal blood, heir to a queenship in her
+tribe in a far-away African kingdom. In her young womanhood, so the tale
+ran, the slave-hunter had found her and driven her aboard a slave-ship
+bound for the American coast. He never drove another slave toward any
+coast. In Virginia her first purchaser had sold her quickly to a Georgia
+planter whose _heirs_ sent her on to Mississippi. Thence she soon found
+her way to the Louisiana rice-fields. Nobody came to take her back to
+any place she had quitted. "Safety first," is not a recent practice. She
+had enormous strength and capacity for endurance, she learned rapidly,
+kept her own counsel, obeyed no command unless she chose to do so, and
+feared nothing in the Lord's universe. The people of her own race had
+little in common with her. They never understood her and so they feared
+her. And being as it were outcast by them, she came to know more of the
+ways and customs, and even the thoughts, of the white people better than
+of her own. Being quick to imitate, she spoke in the correcter language
+of those whom she knew best, rather than the soft, ungrammatical dialect
+of the plantation slave or the grunt and mumble of the isolated African.
+Realizing that service was to be her lot, she elected to render that
+service where and to whom she herself might choose.
+
+One day she had walked into New Orleans and boarded a Mississippi
+steamer bound for St. Louis. It took three men to eject her bodily from
+the deck into a deep and dangerous portion of the stream. She swam
+ashore, and when the steamer made its next stop she walked aboard again.
+The three men being under the care of a physician, and the remainder of
+the crew burdened with other tasks, she was not again disturbed. Some
+time later she appeared at the landing below Fort Leavenworth, and
+strode up the slope to the deserted square where Esmond Clarenden stood
+before his little store alone in the deepening twilight.
+
+I have heard that she had had a way of appearing suddenly, like a beast
+of prey, in the dusk of the evening, and that few men cared to meet her
+at that time alone.
+
+My uncle was a snug-built man, sixty-two inches high, with small,
+shapely hands and feet. Towering above him stood this great, strange
+creature, barefooted, ragged, half tiger, half sphinx.
+
+"I'm hungry. I'll eat or I kill. I'm nobody's slave!"
+
+The soft voice was full of menace, the glare of famine and fury was in
+the burning eyes, and the supple cruelty of the wild beast was in the
+clenched hands.
+
+Esmond Clarenden looked up at her with interest. Then pointing toward
+our house he said, calmly:
+
+"Neither are you anybody's master. Go over there to the kitchen and get
+your supper. If you can cook good meals, I'll pay you well. If you
+can't, you'll leave here."
+
+Possibly it was the first time in her strange and varied career that she
+had taken a command kindly, and obeyed because she must. And so the
+savage African princess, the terror of the terrible slave-ship, the
+untamed plantation scourge, with a record for deeds that belong to
+another age and social code, became the great, silent, faithful,
+fearless servant of the plains; with us, but never of us, in all the
+years that followed. But she fitted the condition of her day, and in her
+place she stood, where the beloved black mammy of a gentler mold would
+have fallen.
+
+She announced that her name was Daniel Boone, which Uncle Esmond
+considered well enough for one of such a westward-roving nature. But
+Jondo declared that the "Daniel" belonged to her because, like unto the
+Bible Daniel, no lion, nor whole den of lions, would ever dine at her
+expense. To us she became Aunty Boone. With us she was always
+gentle--docile, rather; and one day we came to know her real measure,
+and--we never forgot her.
+
+I bounced out of bed at her call this morning, and bounced my breakfast
+into a healthy, good-natured stomach. The sunny April of yesterday had
+whirled into a chilly rain, whipped along by a raw wind. The skies were
+black and all the spring verdure was turned to a sickish gray-green.
+
+"Weather always fit the times," Aunty Boone commented as she heaped my
+plate with the fat buckwheat cakes that only she could ever turn off a
+griddle. "You packin' up for somepin' now. What you goin' to get is
+fo'casted in this here nasty day."
+
+"Why, we _are_ going away!" I cried, suddenly recalling the day before.
+"I wish, though, that Mat could go. Wouldn't you like to go, too, Aunty?
+Only, Bev says there's deserts, where there's just rocks and sand and
+everything, and no water sometimes. You and Mat couldn't stand that
+'cause you are women-folks."
+
+I stiffened with importance and clutched my knife and fork hard.
+
+"Couldn't!" Aunty Boone gave a scornful grunt. "Women-folks stands
+double more 'n men. You'll see when you get older. I know about you
+freightin' off to Santy Fee. _You_ don't know what desset is. _You_
+never _see sand_. You never _feel_ what it is to _want watah_. Only
+folks 'cross the ocean in the real desset knows that. Whoo-ee!"
+
+I remembered the weird tales she had told us of her girlhood--tales that
+had thrilled me with wonder--told sometimes in the twilight, sometimes
+by the kitchen fire on winter nights, sometimes on long, still,
+midsummer afternoons when the air quivered with heat and the Missouri
+hung about hot sand-bars, half asleep.
+
+"What do you know about this trip, Aunty Boone?" I asked, eagerly; for
+although she could neither read nor write, she had a sponge-like
+absorbing power for keeping posted on all that happened at the fort.
+
+"Cla'n'den"--the woman never called my uncle by any other name--"he's
+goin' to Santy Fee, an' you boys with him, 'cause--"
+
+She paused and her shining eyes grew dull as they had a way of doing in
+her thoughtful or prophetic moments.
+
+"He knows what for--him an' Jondo. One of 'em's storekeeper an' t'other
+a plainsman, but they tote together always--an' they totin' now. You
+can't see what, but they totin', they totin', just the same. Now run out
+to the store. Things is stirrin'. Things is stirrin'."
+
+I bolted my cakes, sodden with maple syrup, drank my mug of milk, and
+hurried out toward the storehouse.
+
+Fort Leavenworth in the middle '40's was sometimes an indolent place,
+and sometimes a very busy one, depending upon the activity of the
+Western frontier. On this raw April morning everything was fairly ajerk
+with life and motion. And I knew from child-experience that a body of
+soldiers must be coming up the river soon. Horses were rushed to-day
+where yesterday they had been leisurely led. Orders were shouted now
+that had been half sung a week ago. Military discipline took the place
+of fatigue attitudes. There was a banging of doors, a swinging of
+brooms, a clatter of tin, and a clanging of iron things. And everywhere
+went that slapping wind. And every shallow place in the ground held a
+chilly puddle. The government buildings always seemed big and bare and
+cold to me. And this morning they seemed drearier than ever, beaten upon
+by the fitful swish of the rain.
+
+In contrast with these were my uncle's snug quarters, for warmth was a
+part of Esmond Clarenden's creed. I used to think that the little
+storeroom, filled with such things as a frontier fort could find use
+for, was the biggest emporium in America, and the owner thereof suffered
+nothing, in my eyes, in comparison with A.T. Stewart, the opulent New
+York merchant of his day.
+
+As I ran, bareheaded and coatless, across the wide wet space between our
+home and the storehouse a soldier came dashing by on horseback. I dodged
+behind him only to fall sprawling in a slippery pool under the very feet
+of another horseman, riding swiftly toward the boat-landing.
+
+Neither man paid any attention to me as I slowly picked myself up and
+started toward the store. The soldier had not seen me at all. The other
+man's face was dark, and he wore the dress of the Mexican. It was only
+by his alertness and skill that his horse missed me, but as he hurried
+away he gave no more heed to me than if I had been a stone in his path.
+
+I had turned my ankle in the fall and I could only limp to the
+storehouse and drop down inside. I would not cry out, but I could not
+hold back the sobs as I tried to stand, and fell again in a heap at
+Jondo's feet.
+
+"Things were stirrin'" there, as Aunty Boone had said, but withal there
+was no disorder. Esmond Clarenden never did business in that way. No
+loose ends flapped about his rigging, and when a piece of work was
+finished with him, there was nothing left to clear away. Bill Banney,
+the big grown-up boy from Kentucky, who, out of love of adventure, had
+recently come to the fort, was helping Jondo with the packing of certain
+goods. Mat and Beverly were perched on the counter, watching all that
+was being done and hearing all that was said.
+
+"What's the matter, little plainsman?" Jondo cried, catching me up and
+setting me on the counter. "Got a thorn in your shoe, or a stone-bruise,
+or a chilblain?"
+
+"I slipped out there behind a soldier on horseback, right in front of a
+little old Mexican who was just whirling off to the river," I said, the
+tears blinding my eyes.
+
+"Why, he's turned his ankle! Looks like it was swelling already," Mat
+Nivers declared, as she slid from the counter and ran toward me.
+
+"It's a bad job," Jondo declared. "Just when we want to get off, too."
+
+"Can't I go with you to Santa Fe, Uncle Esmond?" I wailed.
+
+"Yes, Gail, we'll fix you up all right," my uncle said, but his face was
+grave as he examined my ankle.
+
+It was a bad job, much worse than any of us had thought at first. And as
+they all gathered round me I suddenly noticed the same Mexican standing
+in the doorway, and I heard some one, I think it was Uncle Esmond, say:
+
+"Jondo, you'd better take Gail over to the surgeon right away--" His
+voice trailed off somewhere and all was blank nothingness to me. But my
+last impression was that my uncle stayed behind with the strange
+Mexican.
+
+In the excitement everybody forgot that I had on neither hat nor coat as
+they carried me through the raw wet air to the army surgeon's quarters
+beyond the soldiers' barracks.
+
+A chill and fever followed, and for a week there was only pain and
+trouble for me. Nothing else hurt quite so deeply, however, as the fear
+of being left behind when the Clarendens should start for Santa Fe. I
+would ask no questions, and nobody mentioned the trip, for which
+everything was preparing. I began at last to have a dread of being left
+in the night, of wakening some morning to find only Mat and myself with
+Aunty Boone in the little log house. Uncle Esmond had already been away
+for three days, but nobody told me where he had gone, nor why he went,
+nor when he would come back. It kept me awake at night, and the loss of
+sleep made me nervous and feverish.
+
+One afternoon about a week after my accident, when Beverly and Mat were
+putting the room in order and chattering like a couple of squirrels,
+Beverly said, carelessly:
+
+"Gail, it's been a half a week since Uncle Esmond went down to our other
+store in Independence, and we are going to start on our trip just as
+soon as he gets back, unless he sends for me and Jondo."
+
+I knew that he was trying to tell me that they meant to go without me,
+for he hurried out with the last words. No boy wants to talk to a
+disappointed boy, and I had to clinch my teeth hard to keep back the
+tears.
+
+"I want to get well quicker, Mat. I want to go to Santa Fe with
+Beverly," I wailed, making a desperate effort to get out of bed.
+
+"You cuddle right down there, Gail Clarenden, if you want to get well at
+all. If you're real careful you'll be all right in a day or two. Let's
+wait for Uncle Esmond to come home before we start any worries."
+
+It was in her voice, girl or woman, that comforting note that could
+always soothe me.
+
+"Mat, won't you try to get them to let me go?" I pleaded.
+
+She made no promises, but busied herself with getting my foot into its
+place again, singing softly to herself all the while. Then she read me
+stories from our few story-books till I fell asleep.
+
+It was twilight when I wakened. Where I lay I could hear Esmond
+Clarenden and Aunty Boone talking in the kitchen, and I listened eagerly
+to all they said.
+
+"But it's no place for a woman," my uncle was urging, gravely.
+
+"I ain't a woman, I'm a cook. You want cooks if you eats. Mat ain't a
+woman, she's a girl. But she's stronger 'n Beverly. If you can't leave
+him, how can you leave her? An' Gail never get well if he's left here,
+Cla'n'den, now he's got the goin' fever. Never! An' if you never got
+back--"
+
+"I don't believe he would get well, either." Then Uncle Esmond spoke
+lower and I could not hear any more.
+
+Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing in
+together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in with them,
+and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment.
+
+"We are all going to Santa Fe over the long trail. Every last gun of us.
+Aunty Boone, and Mat, and you, and me, and Jondo, and Uncle Esmond,
+rag-tag and bobtail. Whoop-ee-diddle-dee!" Beverly threw up his cap,
+and, catching Mat by the arms, they whirled around the room together.
+
+"Who says so, Bev?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Them as knows and bosses everything in this world. Jondo told me, and
+he's just the boss's shadow. Now guess who," Beverly replied.
+
+"It's all true, Gail," Mat assured me. "Esmond Clarenden _is_ going to
+Santa Fe in spite of 'war, pestilence, famine, and sword,' as my
+_History of the World_ says, and he _is_ going to take son Beverly, and
+son Gail to watch son Beverly; and Miss Mat Nivers to watch both of them
+and shoo Indians away; and Aunt Daniel Boone to scare the Mexicans into
+the Gulf of California, if they act ugly, see!"
+
+She capered about the room, and as she passed me she stooped and patted
+me on the forehead. I didn't want her to do that. I had taken a long
+jump away from little-boy-dom a week ago, but I was supremely content
+now that all of us were to take the long trail together.
+
+That evening while Mat and Beverly went to look after some fishing-lines
+they had set--Mat and Bev were always going fishing--and Jondo was down
+at the store, the officer in command of the fort came in. He paid no
+attention to me lying there, all eyes and ears whenever shoulder-straps
+were present.
+
+"What did you decide to do about the trip to Santa Fe?" he asked, as he
+tipped back in his chair and settled down to cigars and an evening chat.
+
+"We shall be leaving on the boat in the morning," my uncle replied.
+
+The colonel's chair came down with a crack. "You don't mean it!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"I told you a week ago that I would be starting as soon as possible,"
+Esmond Clarenden said, quietly.
+
+"But, man, the war is raging, simply raging, down in Mexico right now.
+Our division will be here to commence drill in a few weeks, and we start
+for the border in a few months. You are mad to take such a risk." The
+commander's voice rose.
+
+"We must go, that's all!" my uncle insisted.
+
+"We? We? Who the devil are 'we'? None of my companies mutinied, I hope."
+
+The words did not sound like a joke, and there was little humor in the
+grim face.
+
+"'We' means Jondo, Banney, a young fellow from Kentucky--" Uncle Esmond
+began.
+
+"Humph! Banney's father carried a gun at Fort Dearborn in 1812. I
+thought that young fellow came here for military service," the colonel
+commented, testily.
+
+"Rather say he came for adventure," Esmond Clarenden suggested.
+
+"He'll get a deuced lot of it in a hurry, if you persuade him off with
+you."
+
+A flush swept over Esmond Clarenden's face, but his good-natured smile
+did not fail as he replied:
+
+"I don't persuade anybody. The rest of the company are my two nephews
+and the little girl, my ward, with our cook, Daniel Boone, as
+commander-in-chief of the pots and pans and any Indian meat foolish
+enough to fall in her way."
+
+Then came the explosion. Powder would have cost less than the energy
+blown off there. The colonel stamped and swore, and sprang to his feet
+in opposition, and flung himself down in disgust.
+
+"Women and children!" he gasped. "Why do you sacrifice helpless innocent
+ones?"
+
+Just then Aunty Boone strode in carrying a log of wood as big as a man's
+body, which she deftly threw on the fire. As the flame blazed high she
+gave one look at the young officer sitting before it, and then walked
+out as silently and sturdily as she had entered. It was such a look as a
+Great Dane dog full of superiority and indifference might have given to
+a terrier puppy, and from where I lay I thought the military man's face
+took on a very strange expression.
+
+"I 'sacrifice my innocent ones,'" my uncle answered the query, "because
+they will be safer with me than anywhere else. Young as they are, there
+are some forces against them already."
+
+"Well, you are going to a perilous place, over a most perilous trail, in
+a most perilous time of national affairs, to meet such treacherously
+villainous men as New Mexico offers in her market-places right now? And
+all for the sake of the commerce of the plains? Why do you take such
+chances to do business with such people, Clarenden?"
+
+Esmond Clarenden had been staring at the burning logs in the big
+fireplace during this conversation. He turned now and faced the young
+army officer squarely as he said in that level tone that we children had
+learned long ago was final:
+
+"Colonel, I'd go straight to hell and do business with the devil himself
+if I had any business dealings with him."
+
+The colonel's face fell. Slowly he relighted his cigar, and leaned back
+again in his chair, and with that diplomacy that covers a skilful
+retreat he said, smilingly:
+
+"If any man west of the Missouri River ever could do that it would be
+you, Clarenden. By the holy Jerusalem, the military lost one grand
+commander when you chose a college instead of West Point, and the East
+lost one well-bred gentleman from its circles of commerce and culture
+when you elected to do business on the old Santa Fe Trail instead of
+Broadway. But I reckon the West will need just such men as you long
+after the frontier fort has become a central point in the country's
+civilized area. And, blast you, Clarenden, blast your very picture! No
+man can help liking you. Not even the devil if he had the chance. Not
+one man in ten thousand would dare to make that trip right now. You've
+got the courage of a colonel and the judgment of a judge. Go to Santa
+Fe! We may meet you coming back. If we do, and you need us, command us!"
+
+He gave a courteous salute, and the two began to talk of other things;
+among them the purposes that were bringing young men westward.
+
+"So Banney, right out of old blue-grassy Kentucky, is going to back out
+of here and go with you," the colonel remarked.
+
+"I've hired him to drive one team. It's a lark for him, but the army
+would be a lark just the same," Esmond Clarenden declared. "He says he
+is to kill rattlesnakes and Mexicans, while Jondo kills Indians and I
+sit tight on top of the bales of goods to keep the wind from blowing
+them away. And the boys are to be made bridle-wise, _plains-broke_ for
+future freighting. That's all that life means to him right now."
+
+I do not know what else was said, nor what I heard and what I dreamed
+after that. If this journey meant a lark to a grown-up boy, it meant a
+pilgrimage through fairyland to a young boy like myself.
+
+And so the new life opened to us; and if the way was fraught with
+hardship and danger, it also taught us courage and endurance. Nor must
+we be measured by the boy life of to-day. Children lived the grown-up
+life then. It was all there was for them to live.
+
+The yellow Missouri boiled endlessly along by the foot of the bluff. The
+flag flapped broadly in the strong breeze that blew in from the west;
+the square log house--the only home we had ever known--looked forlornly
+after us, with its two front windows with blinds half drawn, like two
+half-closed, watching eyes; the cottonwoods and elms, the tiny
+storehouse--everything--grew suddenly very dear to us. The fort
+buildings throwing long shadows in the early morning, the level-topped
+forests east of the Missouri River, and the budding woodland that
+overdraped the ravines to the west, even in their silence, seemed like
+sentient things, loving us, as we loved them.
+
+We children had gone all over the place before sunrise and touched
+everything, in token of good-by; from some instinct tarrying longest at
+the flagpole, where we threw kisses to the great, beautiful banner high
+above us. Now, at the moment of leaving all these familiar things of all
+our years, a choking pain came to our throats. Mat's eyes filled with
+tears and she looked resolutely forward. Beverly and I clutched hands
+and shut our teeth together, determined to overcome this home-grip on
+our hearts. Aunty Boone sat in a corner of the deck as the boat swung
+out into the stream, her eyes dull and unseeing. She never spoke of her
+thoughts, but I have wondered often, since that big day of my young
+years, if she might not have recalled other voyages: the slave-ship
+putting out to sea with the African shores fading behind her; and the
+big river steamer at the New Orleans dock where brutal hands had hurled
+her from the deck into the dangerous floods of the Mississippi. This was
+her third voyage, a brief run from Fort Leavenworth to Independence. She
+was apart from her fellow-passengers as in the other two, but now nobody
+gave her a curse, nor a blow.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WIDENING HORIZON
+
+
+  Whose furthest footsteps never strayed
+    Beyond the village of his birth,
+  Is but a lodger for the night
+    In this old Wayside Inn of Earth.
+
+
+The broad green prairies of the West roll back in huge billows from the
+Missouri bluffs, and ripple gently on, to melt at last into the level
+grassy plains sloping away to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Up
+and down these land-waves, and across these ripples, the old Santa Fe
+Trail, the slender pathway of a wilderness-bridging commerce, led out
+toward the great Southwest--a thousand weary miles--to end at last,
+where the narrow thoroughfare reached the primitive hostelry at the
+corner of the plaza in the heart of the capital of a Spanish-Mexican
+demesne.
+
+It was a strange old highway, tying the western frontier of a new,
+self-reliant American civilization to the eastern limit of an autocratic
+European offshoot, grafted upon an ancient Indian stock of the Western
+Hemisphere. In language, nationality, social code, political faith, and
+prevailing spiritual creed, the terminals of this highway were as
+unlike as their geographical naming. For the trail began at
+_Independence_, in Missouri, and ended at Santa Fe, the "_City of the
+Holy Faith_," in New Mexico.
+
+The little trading town of Independence was a busy place in the frontier
+years of the Middle West. Ungentle and unlovely as it was, it was the
+great gateway between the river traffic on the one side, and the plains
+commerce of the far Southwest on the other. At the wharf at Westport,
+only a few miles away, the steamers left their cargoes of flour and
+bacon, coffee and calicoes, jewelry and sugar--whatever might have a
+market value to merchants beyond the desert lands. And here these same
+steamers took on furs, and silver bullion, and such other produce of the
+mountains and mines and open plains as the opulently laden caravans had
+toiled through long days, overland, to bring to the river's wharf.
+
+To-day the same old gateway stands as of yore. But it may be given only
+to men who have seen what I have seen, to know how that our Kansas City,
+the Beautiful, could grow up from that old wilderness outpost of
+commerce threescore and more years ago.
+
+The Clarenden store was the busiest spot in the center of this busy
+little town. Goods from both lines of trade entered and cleared here. In
+front of the building three Conestoga wagons with stout mule teams stood
+ready. A fourth wagon, the Dearborn carriage of that time, filled
+mostly with bedding, clothing, and the few luxuries a long camping-out
+journey may indulge in, waited only for a team, and we would be off to
+the plains.
+
+Jondo and Bill Banney were busy with the last things to be done before
+we started. Aunty Boone sat on a pile of pelts inside the store, smoking
+her pipe. Beverly and Mat stood waiting in the big doorway, while I sat
+on a barrel outside, because my ankle was still a bit stiff. A crowd had
+gathered before the store to see us off. It was not such a company as
+the soldier-men at the fort. The outlaw, the loafer, the drunkard, the
+ruffian, the gambler, and the trickster far outnumbered the stern-faced
+men of affairs. When the balance turns the other way the frontier
+disappears. Mingling with these was a pale-faced invalid now and then,
+with the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.
+
+"What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled with men.
+
+"Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle Esmond
+hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know, but he rigged
+this littler wagon out in a twinkle."
+
+"That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us children are
+to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the driving," Mat added.
+
+Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.
+
+"How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd inquired.
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he replied.
+"I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm in a hurry."
+
+"What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They tell me
+things look squally out West."
+
+"All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
+returned.
+
+"They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of more
+mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving class who
+sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.
+
+"These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They are
+all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle said.
+
+Women and children did not cross the plains in those days, nor could
+public welfare allow that so valuable a piece of property as Aunty Boone
+would be in the slave-market should be lost to commerce, and the storm
+of protest that followed would have overcome a less determined man. It
+was not on account of sympathy for the weak and defenseless that called
+out all this abuse, but the lawless spirit that stirs up a mob on the
+slightest excuse.
+
+I slid away to the door, where, with Mat and Beverly, I watched Esmond
+Clarenden, who was listening with his good-natured smile to all of that
+loud street talk.
+
+"No man's life is insurable in these troublesome times, with our troops
+right now down in Mexico," a suave Southern trader urged. "Better sell
+your slave and put that nice little gal in a boardin'-school somewhere
+in the South."
+
+"I'll give you a mighty good bargain for that wench, Clarenden. She
+might be worth a clare fortune in New Orleans. What d'ye say to a cool
+thousand?" another man declared, with a slow. Southern drawl.
+
+Aunty Boone took the pipe from her lips and looked at the stranger.
+
+"Y'would!" she grunted, stretching her big right hand across her lap,
+like a huge paw with claws ready underneath.
+
+"Them plains Injuns never was more _hostile_ than they air right now. I
+just got in from the mountains an' I know. An' they're bein' set on by
+more _hostile_ Mexican devils, and political _intrigs_," a bearded
+mountaineer trapper argued.
+
+"'Sides all that," interposed the suave Southern gentleman, "it's too
+early in the spring. Freightin's bound to be delayed by rains--and a
+nice little gal with only a nigger--" He was not quite himself, and he
+did not try to say more.
+
+"Seems like some of these gentlemen consider you are some sort of a
+fool," a tall, lean Yankee youth observed, as he listened to the babble.
+
+I had climbed back on the barrel again to see the crowd better, and I
+stared at the last speaker. His voice was not unpleasant, but he
+appeared pale and weak and spiritless in that company of tanned, rugged
+men. Evidently he was an invalid in search of health. We children had
+seen many invalids, from time to time, at the fort harmless folk, who
+came to fuss, and stayed to flourish, in our gracious land of the open
+air.
+
+"You are a dam' fool," roared a big drunken loafer from the edge of the
+crowd. "An' I'd lick you in a minnit if you das step into the middle of
+the street onct. Ornery sneak, to take innocent children into such
+perils. Come on out here, I tell ye!"
+
+A growl followed these words. Many men in that company were less than
+half sober, and utterly irresponsible.
+
+"Le's jes' hang the fool storekeepin' gent right now; an' make a
+free-fur-all holiday. I'll begin," the drunken ruffian bawled. He was of
+the sort that always leads a mob.
+
+The growl deepened, for blood-lust and drunkenness go together.
+
+Terrified for my uncle's safety, I stood breathless, staring at the
+evil-faced crowd of men going suddenly mad, without excuse. At the
+farthest edge of the insipient mob, sitting on his horse and watching my
+uncle's face intently, was the very Mexican whom I had twice seen at
+Fort Leavenworth. At the drunken rowdy's challenge, I thought that he
+half-lifted a threatening hand. But Esmond Clarenden only smiled, with a
+mere turn of his head as if in disapproval. In that minute I learned my
+first lesson in handling ruffians. I knew that my uncle was not afraid,
+and because of that my faith in his power to take care of himself came
+back.
+
+"I want to leave here in half an hour. If you have any good
+plains-broke mules you will sell for cash, I can do business with you
+right now. If not, the sooner you leave this place the better."
+
+He lifted his small, shapely hand unclenched, his good-natured smile and
+gentlemanly bearing unchanged, but his low voice was stronger than all
+the growls of the crowd that fell back like whipped dogs.
+
+As he spoke a horse-dealer, seeing the gathering before the store, came
+galloping up.
+
+"I'm your man. Money talks so I can understand it. Wait five minutes and
+ten seconds and I'll bring a whole strand of mules."
+
+A rattling of wagons and roar of voices at the far end of the street
+told of the arrival of a company coming in from the wharf at Westport,
+and the crowd whirled about and made haste toward the next scene of
+interest.
+
+Only two men remained behind, the tall New England youth and the Mexican
+on the farther side of the street sitting motionless on his horse. A
+moment later he was gone, and the street was empty save for the
+pale-faced invalid who had come over to the doorway where Mat and
+Beverly and I waited together.
+
+"Why don't you youngsters stay home with your mother, or is she going
+with you?" he asked, a gleam of interest lighting his dull face as he
+looked at Mat Nivers.
+
+"We haven't any of us got a mother," Mat replied, timidly, lifting her
+gray eyes to his.
+
+"Mother! Ain't you all one family?" the young man questioned in
+surprise.
+
+"No, we are three orphan children that Uncle Esmond has adopted all our
+lives, I guess." Beverly informed him.
+
+A wave of sympathy swept over his face.
+
+"You poor, lonely, unhappy cubs! You've never had a mother to love you!"
+he exclaimed, in kindly pity.
+
+"We aren't poor nor lonely nor unhappy. We have always had Uncle Esmond
+and we didn't need a mother," I exclaimed, earnestly.
+
+The young man stared at me as I spoke. "What's he, a bachelor or married
+man?" he inquired.
+
+"He couldn't be married and keep us, I reckon, and he's taking us with
+him so nothing will happen to us while he's gone. He's really truly
+Bev's uncle and mine, but he's just the same as uncle to Mat, who hasn't
+anybody else," I declared, enthusiastically. Uncle Esmond was my pride,
+and I meant that he should be fully appreciated.
+
+The Yankee gazed at all three of us, his eyes resting longest on Mat's
+bright face. The listlessness left his own that minute and a new light
+shone on his countenance. But when he turned to my uncle the seeming
+lack of all interest in living returned to his face again.
+
+"Say," he drawled, looking down at the stubborn little merchant from his
+slim six feet of altitude, "you are such a dam' fool as our friend, the
+tipsy one, says, that I believe I'll go along 'cross the plains with
+you, if you'll let me. I've not got a darned thing to lose out there but
+a sick carcass that I'm pretty tired of looking after," he went on,
+wearily. "I reckon I might as well see the fun through if I never set a
+hoof on old Plymouth Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at
+Lexington. Say"--he paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the
+bean-eaters who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth,
+there wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
+tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men myself make
+the same claim. But my granddad was the real article in the minute-men
+business. And I've always admired his grit most of any man in the world.
+He was about your shape, I reckon, from his picture that old man Copley
+got out. But, man! he wasn't a patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the
+preposterous-est unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just
+straight murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
+plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico, and I
+like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If you will, I'll
+deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've got only a little wad
+of money to get well on or die on. I can spend it either way--not much
+difference which. My name is Krane, Rex Krane, and in spite of such a
+floopsy name I hail from Boston, U.S.A."
+
+There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth, redeemed only
+by the twinkle in his eye.
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated men
+easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.
+
+"I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want to
+turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles or more on
+the trail. You can try it that far and see how you like it. I'll furnish
+you your board. There are always plenty of bedrooms on the ground floor
+and in one of the wagons on rainy nights. You can take a shift driving a
+team now and then, and every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some
+of the time. You understand the dangers of the situation by this time.
+Here comes my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a
+string of mules up the street.
+
+"Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.
+
+"I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the bargain
+was closed.
+
+Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and Aunty
+Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.
+
+"You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.
+
+"Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
+Clarenden replied.
+
+But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the crowd
+had been. The foolish risk of losing so valuable a piece of property as
+Daniel Boone ought to be in the slave-market taxed his powers of
+understanding, profanity, and abuse.
+
+"Cussin' solid, an' in streaks," Aunty Boone chuckled, softly, as she
+listened to him unmoved.
+
+Equally unmoved was Esmond Clarenden. But his genial smile and
+diplomatic power of keeping still did not prevent him from being as set
+as the everlasting hills in his own purpose.
+
+"This here critter is all I'll sell you," the trader declared at last,
+pulling a big white-eyed dun animal out of the group. "An' nobody's
+goin' to drive her easy."
+
+"I'll take it," Uncle Esmond said, promptly, and the vicious-looking
+beast was brought to where Aunty Boone stood beside the wagon-tongue.
+
+It was a clear case of hate at first sight, for the mule began to plunge
+and squeal the instant it saw her. The woman hesitated not a minute, but
+lifting her big ham-like foot, she gave it one broadside kick that it
+must have mistaken for a thunderbolt, and in that low purr of hers, that
+might frighten a jungle tiger, she laid down the law of the journey.
+
+"You tote me to Santy Fee, or be a dead mule. Take yo' choice right now!
+Git up!"
+
+For fifty days the one dependable, docile servant of the Clarendens was
+the big dun mule, as gentle and kitten-like as a mule can be.
+
+And so, in spite of opposing conditions and rabble protest and doleful
+prophecy and the assurance of certain perils, we turned our faces
+toward the unfriendly land of the sunset skies, the open West of my
+childish day-dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The prairies were splashed with showers and the warm black soil was
+fecund with growths as our little company followed the windings of the
+old trail in that wondrous springtime of my own life's spring. There
+were eight of us: Clarenden, the merchant; Jondo, the big plainsman;
+Bill Banney, whom love of adventure had lured from the blue grass of
+Kentucky to the prairie-grass of the West; Rex Krane, the devil-may-care
+invalid from Boston; and the quartet of us in the "baby cab," as Beverly
+had christened the family wagon. Uncle Esmond had added three swift
+ponies to our equipment, which Jondo and Bill found time to tame for
+riding as we went along.
+
+We met wagon-trains, scouts, and solitary trappers going east, but so
+far as we knew our little company was the only westward-facing one on
+all the big prairies.
+
+"It's just like living in a fairy-story, isn't it, Gail?" Beverly said
+to me one evening, as we rounded a low hill and followed a deep little
+creek down to a shallow fording-place. "All we want is a real princess
+and a real giant. Look at these big trees all you can, for Jondo says
+pretty soon we won't see trees at all."
+
+"Maybe we'll have Indians instead of giants," I suggested. "When do you
+suppose we'll begin to see the real _bad_ Indians; not just Osages and
+Kaws and sneaky little Otoes and Pot'wat'mies like we've seen all our
+lives?"
+
+"Sooner than we expect," Beverly replied. "Could Mat Nivers ever be a
+real princess, do you reckon?"
+
+"I know she won't," I said, firmly, the vision of that fateful day at
+Fort Leavenworth coming back as I spoke--the vision of level green
+prairies, with gray rocks and misty mountain peaks beyond. And
+somewhere, between green prairies and misty peaks, a sweet child face
+with big dark eyes looking straight into mine. I must have been a
+dreamer. And in my young years I wondered often why things should be so
+real to me that nobody else could ever understand.
+
+"I used to think long ago at the fort that I'd marry Mat some day,"
+Beverly said, reminiscently, as if he were looking across a lapse of
+years instead of days.
+
+"So did I," I declared. "But I don't want to now. Maybe our princess
+will be at the end of the trail, Bev, a real princess. Still, I love Mat
+just as if she were my sister," I hastened to add.
+
+"So do I," Beverly responded, heartily.
+
+A little grain of pity for her loss of prestige was mingling with our
+subconscious feeling of a need for her help in the day of the giant, if
+not in the reign of the princess.
+
+We were trudging along behind our wagon toward the camping-place for the
+night, which lay beyond the crossing of the stream. We had lived much
+out of doors at Fort Leavenworth, but the real out of doors of this
+journey was telling on us already in our sturdy, up-leaping strength, to
+match each new hardship. We ate like wolves, slept like dead things, and
+forgot what it meant to be tired. And as our muscles hardened our minds
+expanded. We were no longer little children. Youth had set its seal upon
+us on the day when our company had started out from Independence toward
+the great plains of the Middle West. Little care had we for the
+responsibility and perils of such a journey; and because our thoughts
+were buoyant our bodies were vigorous.
+
+Our camp that night was under wide-spreading elm-trees whose roots
+struck deep in the deep black loam. After supper Mat and Beverly went
+down to fish in the muddy creek. Fishing was Beverly's sport and solace
+everywhere. I was to follow them as soon as I had finished my little
+chores. The men were scattered about the valley and the camp was
+deserted. Something in the woodsy greenness of the quiet spot made it
+seem like home to me--the log house among the elms and cottonwoods at
+the fort. As I finished my task I wondered how a big, fine house such as
+I had seen in pictures would look nestled among these beautiful trees. I
+wanted a home here some day, a real home. It was such a pleasant place
+even in its loneliness.
+
+To the west the ground sloped up gently toward the horizon-line,
+shutting off the track of the trail beyond the ridge. A sudden longing
+came over me to see what to-morrow's journey would offer, bringing back
+the sense of being _shut in_ that had made me lose interest in fishes
+that wouldn't play leap-frog on the sand-bars. And with it came a
+longing to be alone.
+
+Instead of following Mat and Beverly to the creek I went out to the top
+of the swell and stood long in the April twilight, looking beyond the
+rim of the valley toward the darkening prairies with the great splendor
+of the sunset's afterglow deepening to richest crimson above the
+purpling shadows.
+
+Oh, many a time since that night have I looked upon the Kansas plains
+and watched the grandeur of coloring that only the Almighty artist ever
+paints for human eyes. And always I come back, in memory, to that April
+evening. The soul of a man must have looked out through the little boy's
+eyes on that night, and a new mile-stone was set there, making a
+landmark in my life trail. For when I turned toward the darkening east
+and the shadowy camp where the evening fires gleamed redly in the dusk,
+I knew then, as well as I know now, if I could only have put it into
+words, that I was not the same little boy who had run up the long slope
+to see what lay next in to-morrow's journey.
+
+I walked slowly back to the camp and sat down beside Esmond Clarenden.
+
+"What are you thinking about, Gail?" he asked, as I stared at the fire.
+
+"I wish I knew what would happen next," I replied.
+
+Jondo was lying at full length on the grass, his elbow bent, and his
+hand supporting his head. What a wonderful head it was with its crown of
+softly curling brown hair!
+
+"I wonder if we have done wrong by the children, Clarenden," the big
+plainsman said, slowly.
+
+Uncle Esmond shook his head as he replied:
+
+"I can't believe it. They may not be safe with us, but we know they
+would not have been safe without us."
+
+Just then Beverly and Mat came racing up from the creek bank.
+
+"Let us stay up awhile," Mat pleaded. "Maybe we'll be less trouble some
+of these days if we hear you talk about what's coming."
+
+"They are right, Jondo. Gail here wants to know what is coming next, and
+Mat wants a share in our councils. What do you want, Beverly?"
+
+"I want to practise shooting on horseback. I can hit a mark now standing
+still. I want to do it on the run," Beverly replied.
+
+I can see now the earnest look in Esmond Clarenden's eyes as he
+listened. I've seen it in a mother's eyes more than once since then, as
+she kissed her eldest-born and watched it toddle off alone on its first
+day of school; or held her peace, when, breaking home ties, the son of
+her heart bade her good-by to begin life for himself in the world
+outside.
+
+The last light of day was lost over the western ridge. The moon was
+beginning to swell big and yellow through the trees. Twilight was
+darkening into night. Bill Banney and Rex Krane had joined us now, for
+every hour we were learning to keep closer together. Jondo threw more
+wood on the fire, and we nestled about it in snug, homey fashion as if
+we were to listen to a fairy-tale--three children slipping fast out of
+childhood into the stern, hard plains life that tried men's souls. As we
+listened, the older men told of the perils as well as the fascinating
+adventures of trail life, that we might understand what lay before us in
+the unknown days. And then they told us stories of the plains, and of
+the quaint historic things of Santa Fe; of El Palacio, home of all the
+Governors of New Mexico; an Indian pueblo first, it may have been
+standing there when William the Norman conquered Harold of the Saxon
+dynasty of England; or further back when Charlemagne was hanging heathen
+by the great great gross to make good Christians of them; or even when
+old Julius Caesar came and saw and conquered, on either side of the
+Rubicon, this same old structure may have sheltered rulers in a world
+unknown. They told us of the old, old church of San Miguel, a citadel
+for safety from the savage foes of Spain, a sanctuary ever for the
+sinful and sorrowing ones. And of the Plaza--sacred ground whereon by
+ceremonial form had been established deeds that should change the
+destinies of tribes and shape the trend of national pride and power in a
+new continent. And of La Garita, place of execution, facing whose blind
+wall the victims of the Spanish rule made their last stand, and,
+helpless, fell pierced by the bullets of the Spanish soldiery.
+
+And we children looked into the dying camp-fire and builded there our
+own castles in Spain, and hoped that that old flag to which we had
+thrown good-by kisses such a little while ago would one day really wave
+above old Santa Fe and make it ours to keep. For, young as we were, the
+flag already symbolized to us the protecting power of a nation strong
+and gentle and generous.
+
+"The first and last law of the trail is to 'hold fast,'" Jondo said, as
+we broke up the circle about the camp-fire.
+
+"If you can keep that law we will take you into full partnership
+to-night," Esmond Clarenden added, and we knew that he meant what he
+said.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE MAN IN THE DARK
+
+
+  A stone's throw from either hand,
+  From that well-ordered road we tread,
+  And all the world is wide and strange.
+                              --KIPLING
+
+
+"We shall come to the parting of the ways to night if we make good time,
+Krane," Esmond Clarenden said to the young Bostonian, as we rested at
+noon beside the trait. "To-night we camp at Council Grove and from there
+on there is no turning back. I had hoped to find a big crowd waiting to
+start off from that place. But everybody we have met coming in says that
+there are no freighters going west now. Usually there is no risk in
+coming alone from Council Grove to the Missouri River, and there is
+always opportunity for company at this end of the trail."
+
+We were sitting in a circle under the thin shade of some
+cottonwood-trees beside a little stream; the air of noon, hot above our
+heads, was tempered with a light breeze from the southwest. As my uncle
+spoke, Rex glanced over at Mat Nivers, sitting beside him, and then
+gazed out thoughtfully across the stream. I had never thought her
+pretty before. But now her face, tanned by the sun and wind, had a
+richer glow on cheek and lip. Her damp hair lay in little wavelets about
+her temples, and her big, sunny, gray eyes were always her best feature.
+
+Girls made their own dresses on the frontier, and I suppose that
+anywhere else Mat would have appeared old-fashioned in the neat,
+comfortable little gowns of durable gingham and soft woolen stuffs that
+she made for herself. But somehow in all that long journey she was the
+least travel-soiled of the whole party.
+
+At my uncle's words she looked up questioningly and I saw the bloom
+deepen on her cheek as she met the young man's eyes. Somebody else saw
+that shadow of a blush--Bill Banney lying on the ground beside me, and
+although he pulled his hat cautiously over his face, I thought he was
+listening for the answer.
+
+The young New-Englander stared long at the green prairie before he
+spoke. I never knew whether it was ignorance, or a lack of energy, that
+was responsible for his bad grammar in those early days, for Rex Krane
+was no sham invalid. The lines on his young face told of suffering, and
+the thin, bony hands showed bodily weakness. At length he turned to my
+uncle.
+
+"I started out sort of reckless on this trip," he said, slowly. "I'm
+nearly twenty and never been worth a dang to anybody anywhere on God's
+earth; so I thought I might as well be where things looked interestin'.
+But"--he hesitated--"I'm gettin' a lot stronger every day, a whole lot
+stronger. Mebby I'd be of some use afterwhile--I don't know, though. I
+reckon I'd better wait till we get to that Council Grove place. Sounds
+like a nice locality to rest and think in. Are you goin' on, anyhow,
+Clarenden, crowd or no crowd?"
+
+"Though the heavens fall," my uncle answered, simply.
+
+Jondo had turned quickly to hear this reply and a great light leaped
+into his deep-set blue eyes. I glanced over at Aunty Boone, sitting
+apart from us, as she ever chose to do, her own eyes dull, as they
+always were when she saw keenest; and I remembered how, back at Fort
+Leavenworth, she had commented on this journey, saying: "They tote
+together always, an' they're totin' now." Child though I was, I felt
+that a something more than the cargo of goods was leading my uncle to
+Santa Fe. What I did not understand was his motive for taking Beverly
+and Mat and me with him. I had been satisfied before just to go, but now
+I wanted very much to know why I was going.
+
+Council Grove by the Neosho River was the end of civilization for the
+freighter. Beyond it the wilderness spread its untamed lengths, and
+excepting Bent's Fort far up the Arkansas River on the line of the first
+old trail, rarely followed now, it held not a sign of civilization for
+the traveler until he should reach the first outposts of the Mexican
+almost in the shadow of Santa Fe. It is no wonder that wagon-trains
+mobilized here, waiting for an increase in numbers before they dared to
+start on westward. And now there were no trains waiting for our coming.
+Only a gripping necessity could have led a man like Esmond Clarenden to
+take the trail alone in the certain perils of the plains during the
+middle '40's. I did not know until long afterward how brave was the
+loving heart that beat in that little merchant's bosom. A devotee of
+ease and refinement, he walked the prairie trails unafraid, and made the
+desert serve his will.
+
+The dusk of evening had fallen long before we pitched camp that night
+under the big oak-trees in the Neosho River valley outside of the little
+trading-post. Up in the village a light or two gleamed faintly. From
+somewhere in the darkness came the sound of a violin, mingling with loud
+talking and boisterous laughter in a distant drinking-den. It would be
+some time until moon-rise, and the shadowy places thickened to
+blackness.
+
+In fair weather all of us except Mat Nivers slept in the open. On stormy
+nights the younger men occupied one of the wagons, Jondo and Beverly
+another, and my uncle and myself the third. Mat had the "baby-cab" as
+Beverly called it, with Aunty Boone underneath it. The ground was Aunty
+Boone's kingdom. She sat upon it, ate from it, slept on it, and seemed
+no more soiled than a snake would be by the contact with it.
+
+"Some day I goes plop under it, and be ground myself," she used to say.
+"Good black soil I make, too," she always added, with her low chuckle.
+
+To-night we were all in the wagons, for the spring rains had made the
+Neosho valley damp and muddy. I was just on the edge of dreamless
+slumber when a low voice that seemed to cut the darkness caught my ear.
+
+"Cla'nden! Cla'nden!" it hissed, softly.
+
+My uncle slipped noiselessly out to where Aunty Boone stood, her head so
+near to the canvas wagon-cover inside of which I lay that I could hear
+all that was said.
+
+She was always a night prowler. What other women learn now from the
+evening newspaper or from neighborly gossip she, being created without a
+sense of fear, went forth in her time and gathered at first hand.
+
+"I been prospectin' up 'round the saloon, Cla'nden. They's a nasty mess
+of Mexicans in town, all gettin' drunk."
+
+Then I heard a faint rustle of the bushes and I knew that the woman was
+slipping away to her place under the wagon. I remembered the Mexican
+whom I had last seen across the street from the Clarenden store in
+Independence. These were bad Mexicans, as Aunty Boone had said, and that
+man had seemed in a silent way a friend of my uncle. I wondered what
+would happen next. It soon happened. My uncle Esmond came inside the
+wagon and called, softly:
+
+"Gail, wake up."
+
+"I'm awake," I replied, in a half-whisper, as alert as a mystery-loving
+boy could be.
+
+"Slip over to Jondo and tell him there are Mexicans in town, and I'm
+going across the river to see what's up. Tell him to wake up everybody
+and have them stay in the wagons till I get back."
+
+He slid away and the shadows ate him. I followed as far as Jondo's
+wagon, and gave my message. As I came back something seemed to slip away
+before me and disappear somewhere. I dived into our wagon and crouched
+down, waiting with beating heart for Uncle Esmond to come back. Once I
+thought I heard the sound of a horse's feet on the trail to the
+eastward, but I was not sure.
+
+All was still and black in the little camp for a long time, and then
+Esmond Clarenden and Rex Krane crept into the wagon and dropped the flap
+behind them.
+
+"Krane, have you decided about this trip yet?" Uncle Esmond asked. "If
+not, you'd better get right up into town and forget us. You can't be too
+quick about it, either."
+
+"Ain't we going to stay here a few days? Why do you want to know
+to-night?"
+
+Rex Krane, Yankee-like, met the query with a query.
+
+"Because there's a pretty strong party of Mexican desperadoes here who
+are going on east, and they mean trouble for somebody. I shouldn't care
+to meet them with our strength alone. They are all pretty drunk now and
+getting wilder every minute. Listen to that!"
+
+A yell across the river broke the night stillness.
+
+"There is no telling how soon they may be over here, hunting for us. We
+must get by them some way, for I cannot risk a fight with them here.
+Which chance will you choose, the possibility of being overtaken by that
+Mexican gang going east, or the perils of the plains and the hostility
+of New Mexico right now? It's about as broad one way as the other for
+safety, with staying here for a time as the only middle course at
+present. But that is a perfectly safe one for you."
+
+"I am going on with you," Rex Krane said, with his slow Yankee drawl.
+"When danger gets close, then I scatter. There's more chance in seven
+hundred miles to miss somethin' than there is in a hundred and fifty.
+And even a half-invalid might be of some use. Say, Clarenden, how'd you
+get hold of this information? You turned in before I did."
+
+"Daniel Boone went out on scout duty--self-elected. You know she
+considers that the earth was made for her to walk on when she chooses to
+use it that way. She spied trouble ahead and came back, and gave me the
+key to the west door of Council Grove so I could get out early," my
+uncle replied.
+
+"I reckoned as much," Rex declared.
+
+In the dark I could feel Esmond Clarenden give a start.
+
+"What do you mean?" he inquired.
+
+"Oh, I saw the fat lady start out, so I followed her, but I located the
+nest of Mexicans before she did, and got a good deal out of their
+drunken jargon. And then I cat-footed it back after a snaky-looking,
+black Spaniard that seemed to be following her. There were three of us
+in a row, but the devil hasn't got the hindmost one, not yet--that's
+me."
+
+"You saw some one follow Daniel into camp?" my uncle broke in,
+anxiously. But no threatening peril ever hurried Rex Krane's speech.
+
+"Yes, and I also followed some one; but I lost him in this ink-well of a
+hole, and I was waitin' till he left so I could put the cat out, an'
+shut the door, when you cut across the river. I've been sittin' round
+now to see that nothin' broke loose till you got back. Meantime, the
+thing sort of faded away. I heard a horse gallopin' off east, too. Mebby
+they are outpostin' to surround our retreat. I didn't wake Bill. He's
+got no more imagination than Bev. If I had needed anybody I'd have
+stirred up Gail, here."
+
+In the dark I fairly swelled with pride, and from that moment Rex Krane
+was added to my little list of heroes that had been made up, so far, of
+Esmond Clarenden and Jondo and any army officer above the rank of
+captain.
+
+"Krane, you'll do. I thought I had your correct measure back in
+Independence," Uncle Esmond said, heartily. "As to the boys, I can risk
+them; they are Clarendens. My anxiety is for the little orphan girl. She
+is only a child. I couldn't leave her behind us, and I must not let a
+hair of her head be harmed."
+
+"She's a right womanly little thing," Rex Krane said, carelessly; but I
+wondered if in the dark his eyes might not have had the same look they
+had had at noon when he turned to Mat sitting beside my uncle. Maybe
+back at Boston he had a little sister of his own like her. Anyhow, I
+decided then that men's words and faces do not always agree.
+
+Again the roar of voices broke out, and we scrambled from the wagon and
+quickly gathered our company together.
+
+"What did you find out?" Jondo asked.
+
+"We must clear out of here right away and get through to the other side
+of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing it. They are a
+gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross the river if we should
+wait till morning. They have already sent a spy over here, and they are
+waiting for him to report."
+
+"Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.
+
+"They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of him
+went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into nothin' toward
+the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to me."
+
+Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further words,
+Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman would put through
+whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For Aunty Boone was right when
+she said, "They tote together."
+
+"We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't belong
+together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And remember now,
+Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with 'em, I'll do it
+myself," Jondo said.
+
+"Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter more," I
+urged, as we hastily broke camp.
+
+"He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives for
+nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned hesitatingly toward
+Mat Nivers.
+
+In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no wonder
+that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity of the plains
+in those days, when even as children we ran to meet danger with
+courageous daring.
+
+"You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own ford," Jondo
+commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the northwest side of
+town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody tries to stop you, ride like
+fury for the ridge."
+
+"Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me this
+side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll be gone.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred all of
+us.
+
+"You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you must run
+make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.
+
+"You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick man
+ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to John-the-Baptist this
+procession and air the parlor bedrooms."
+
+"Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the wagon
+with me," Bill Banney urged.
+
+"Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward, and I'm
+foot-loose. It's my job to give the address of welcome over t'other side
+of this Mexican settlement."
+
+The tall, thin young man slouched his cap carelessly on his head and
+strode away toward the river. Youth was reckless in those days, and the
+trail was the home of dramatic opportunity. But none of us had dreamed
+hitherto of Rex Krane's degree of daring and his stubborn will.
+
+The big yellow moon was sailing up from the east; the Neosho glistened
+all jet and silver over its rough bed; the great shadowy oaks looked
+ominously after us as we moved out toward the threatening peril before
+us. Slowly, as though she had time to kill, Aunty Boone sent the brown
+mule and trusty dun down to the river's rock-bottom ford. Slowly and
+unconcernedly she climbed the slope and passed up the single street
+toward the saloon she had already "prospected." Pausing a full minute,
+she swung toward a far-off cabin light to the south, jogging over the
+rough ground noisily. The door of the drinking-den was filled with dark
+faces as the crowd jostled out. Just a lone wagon making its way
+somewhere about its own business, that was all.
+
+As the crowd turned in again three ponies galloped up the street toward
+the slope leading out to the high level prairies beyond the Neosho
+valley. But who could guess how furiously three young hearts beat, and
+how tightly three pairs of young hands clutched the bridle reins as we
+surged forward, forgetting the advice to keep in the shadow.
+
+Just after we had crossed the river, a man on horseback fell in behind
+us. We quickened our speed, but he gained on us. Before we reached the
+saloon he was almost even with us, keeping well in the shadow all the
+while. In the increasing moonlight, making everything clear to the eye,
+I gave one quick glance over my shoulder and saw that the horseman was a
+Mexican. I have lived a life so fraught with danger that I should hardly
+remember the feeling of fear but for the indelible imprint of that one
+terrified minute in the moonlit street of Council Grove.
+
+Two ruffians on watch outside the saloon sprang up with yells. The door
+burst open and a gang of rowdies fairly spilled out around us. We three
+on our ponies had the instinctive security on horseback of children born
+to the saddle, else we should never have escaped from the half-drunken
+crew. I recall the dust of striking hoofs, the dark forms dodging
+everywhere, the Mexican rider keeping between us and the saloon door,
+and most of all I remember one glimpse of Mat Nivers's face with big,
+staring eyes, and firm-set mouth; and I remember my fleeting impression
+that she could take care of herself if we could; and over all a sudden
+shadow as the moon, in pity of our terror, hid its face behind a tiny
+cloud.
+
+When it shone out again we were dashing by separate ways up the steep
+slope to the west ridge, but, strangely enough, the Mexican horseman
+with a follower or two had turned away from us and was chasing off
+somewhere out of sight.
+
+Up on top of the bluff, with Rex Krane and Aunty Boone, we watched and
+waited. The wooded Neosho valley full of inky blackness seemed to us
+like a bottomless gorge of terror which no moonlight could penetrate. We
+strained our ears to catch the rattle of the wagons, but the noise from
+the saloon, coming faintly now and then, was all the sound we could hear
+save the voices of the night rising up from the river, and the
+whisperings of the open prairie to the west.
+
+In that hour Rex Krane became our good angel.
+
+"Keep the law, 'Hold fast'! You made a splendid race of it, and if
+Providence made that fellow lose you gettin' out, and led him and his
+gang sideways from you, I reckon she will keep on takin' care of you
+till Clarenden resumes control, so don't you worry."
+
+But for his brave presence the terror of that lonely watch would have
+been harder than the peril of the street, for he seemed more like a
+gentle mother than the careless, scoffing invalid of the trail.
+
+Midnight came, and the chill of midnight. We huddled together in our
+wagon and still we waited. Down in the village the lights still burned,
+and angry voices with curses came to our ears at intervals.
+
+Meantime the three men across the river moved cautiously, hoping that
+we were safe on the bluff, and knowing that they dared not follow us too
+rapidly. The wagons creaked and the harness rattled noisily in the night
+stillness, as slowly, one by one, they lumbered through the darkness
+across the river and up the bank to the village street. Here they halted
+and grouped together.
+
+"We must hide out and wait, Clarenden," Jondo counciled. "I hope
+the ponies and the wagon ahead are safe, but they stirred things up. If
+we go now we'll all be caught."
+
+The three wagons fell apart and halted wide of the trail where the
+oak-trees made the blackest shade. The minutes dragged out like hours,
+and the anxiety for the unprotected group on the bluff made the three
+men frantic to hurry on. But Jondo's patience equaled his courage, and
+he always took the least risk. It was nearly midnight, and every noise
+was intensified. If a mule but moved it set up a clatter of harness
+chains that seemed to fill the valley.
+
+At last a horseman, coming suddenly from somewhere, rode swiftly by each
+shadow-hidden wagon, half pausing at the sound of the mules stamping in
+their places, and then he hurried up the street.
+
+"Three against the crowd. If we must fight, fight to kill," Jondo urged,
+as the ready firearms were placed for action.
+
+In a minute or two the crew broke out of the saloon and filled the
+moonlit street, all talking and swearing in broken Spanish.
+
+"Not come yet!"
+
+"Pedro say they be here to-morrow night!" "We wait till to-morrow
+night!"
+
+And with many wild yells they fell back for a last debauch in the
+drinking-den.
+
+"I don't understand it," Jondo declared. "That fellow who rode by here
+ought to have located every son of us, but if they want to wait till
+to-morrow night it suits me."
+
+An hour later, when the village was in a dead sleep, three wagons slowly
+pulled up the long street and joined the waiting group at the top, and
+the crossing over was complete.
+
+Dawn was breaking as our four wagons, followed by the ponies, crept away
+in the misty light. As we trailed off into the unknown land, I looked
+back at the bluff below which nestled the last houses we were to see for
+seven hundred miles. And there, outlined against the horizon, a Mexican
+stood watching us. I had seen the same man one day riding up from the
+ravine southwest of Fort Leavenworth. I had seen him dashing toward the
+river the next day. I had watched him sitting across the street from the
+Clarenden store in Independence.
+
+I wondered if it might have been this man who had hung about our camp
+the evening before, and if it might have been this same man who rode
+between us and the saloon mob, leading the crowd after him and losing us
+on the side of the bluff. And as we had eluded the Council Grove danger,
+I wondered what would come next, and if he would be in it.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST
+
+
+  "So I draw the world together, link by link."
+                                      --KIPLING.
+
+
+Day after day we pushed into the unknown wilderness. No wagon-trains
+passed ours moving eastward. No moccasined track in the dust of the
+trail gave hint of any human presence near. Where to-day the Pullman car
+glides in smooth comfort, the old Santa Fe Trail lay like a narrow brown
+ribbon on the green desolation of Nature's unconquered domain. Out
+beyond the region of long-stemmed grasses, into the short-grass land, we
+pressed across a pathless field-of-the-cloth-of-green, gemmed with
+myriads of bright blossoms--broad acres on acres that the young years of
+a coming century should change into great wheat-fields to help fill the
+granaries of the world. How I reveled in it--that far-stretching plain
+of flower-starred verdure! It was my world--mine, unending, only
+softening out into lavender mists that rimmed it round in one unbroken
+fold of velvety vapor.
+
+At last we came to the Arkansas River--flat-banked, sand-bottomed,
+wide, wandering, impossible thing--whose shallow waters followed
+aimlessly the line of least resistance, back and forth across its bed.
+Rivers had meant something to me. The big muddy Missouri for
+Independence and Fort Leavenworth, that its steamers might bring the
+soldiers, and my uncle's goods to their places. The little rivers that
+ran into the big ones, to feed their currents for down-stream service.
+The creeks, that boys might wade and swim and fish, else Beverly would
+have lived unhappily all his days. But here was a river that could
+neither fetch nor carry. Nobody lived near it, and it had no deep waters
+like our beloved, ugly old Missouri. I loved the level prairies, but I
+didn't like that river, somehow. I felt exposed on its blank, treeless
+borders, as if I stood naked and defenseless, with no haven of cover
+from the enemies of the savage plains.
+
+The late afternoon was hot, the sky was dust-dimmed, the south wind
+feverish and strength-sapping. At dawn we had sighted a peak against the
+western horizon. We were approaching it now--a single low butte, its
+front a sheer stone bluff facing southward toward the river, it lifted
+its head high above the silent plains; and to the north it stretched in
+a long gentle slope back to a lateral rim along the landscape. The trail
+crept close about its base, as if it would cling lovingly to this one
+shadow-making thing amid all the open, blaring, sun-bound miles
+stretching out on either side of it.
+
+As Beverly and I were riding in front of Mat's wagon, of which we had
+elected ourselves the special guardians, Rex Krane came up alongside
+Bill Banney's team in front of us. The young men were no such
+hard-and-fast friends as Beverly and I. For some reason they had little
+to say to each other.
+
+"Is that what you call Pike's Peak, Bill?" Rex asked.
+
+"No, the mountains are a month away. That's Pawnee Rock, and I'll
+breathe a lot freer when we get out of sight of that infernal thing,"
+Bill replied.
+
+"What's its offense?" Rex inquired.
+
+"It's the peak of perdition, the bottomless pit turned inside out," Bill
+declared.
+
+"I don't see the excuse for a rock sittin' out here, sayin' nothin',
+bein' called all manner of unpleasant names," the young Bostonian
+insisted.
+
+"Well, I reckon you'd find one mighty quick if you ever heard the
+soldiers at Fort Leavenworth talk about it once. All the plainsmen dread
+it. Jondo says more men have been killed right around this old stone
+Sphinx than any other one spot in North America, outside of
+battle-fields."
+
+"Happy thought! Do their ghosts rise up and walk at midnight? Tell me
+more," Rex urged.
+
+"Nobody walks. Everybody runs. There was a terrible Indian fight here
+once; the Pawnees in the king-row, and all the hosts of the Midianites,
+and Hivites, and Jebusites, Kiowa, Comanche, and Kaw, rag-tag and
+bobtail, trying to get 'em out. I don't know who won, but the citadel
+got christened Pawnee Rock. It took a fountain filled with blood to do
+it, though."
+
+Rex Krane gave a long whistle.
+
+"I believe Bill is trying to scare him, Bev," I murmured.
+
+"I believe he's just precious wasting time," Beverly replied.
+
+"And so," Bill continued, "it came to be a sort of rock of execution
+where romances end and they die happily ever afterward. The Indians get
+up there and, being able to read fine print with ease as far away as
+either seacoast, they can watch any wagon-train from the time it leaves
+Council Grove over east to Bent's Fort on the Purgatoire Creek out west;
+and having counted the number of men, and the number of bullets in each
+man's pouch, they slip down and jump on the train as it goes by. If the
+men can make it to beat them to the top of the rock, as they do
+sometimes, they can keep the critters off, unless the Indians are strong
+enough to keep them up there and sit around and wait till they starve
+for water, and have to come down. It's a grim old fortress, and never
+needs a garrison. Indians or white men up there, sometimes they defend
+and sometimes attack. But it's a bad place always, and on account of
+having our little girl along--" Bill paused. "A fellow gets to see a lot
+of country out here," he added.
+
+"Banney, just why didn't you join the army? You'd have a chance to see a
+lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on," Rex Krane said,
+meditatively.
+
+"I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
+likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone please,"
+Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this country the most good.
+They are useful enough when they are useful, Lord knows. And we'll
+always need a decent few of 'em around to look after women and children,
+and invalids," he went on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden
+that's going to make these prairies worth something one of these days.
+The men who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
+That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about army
+folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight and measure,
+is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."
+
+Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.
+
+"Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead tired and
+this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due as soon as it lays
+a bit, and we would be sort of protected here. A tornado's a giant out
+in this country, you know."
+
+"This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling public,
+does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.
+
+"Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of it
+isn't a bad place to shoot from."
+
+"What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney inquired.
+
+"We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo assured us.
+"I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got to be careful. This
+point has a bad reputation, and I naturally begin to _feel_ Indians in
+the air as soon as I come in sight of it. If we need the law of the
+trail anywhere, we need it here," he admonished.
+
+Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of _bad_ Indians,
+but nothing had happened to us yet, and we could not believe that any
+danger was near us now, although we were foolishly half hoping that
+there might be, for the excitement of it.
+
+"There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill. Where
+would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were getting into camp
+order for the night.
+
+Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it had been
+in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and fishes playing
+leap-frog.
+
+"They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout lying flat
+on the top of old Pawnee Rock, up there, lookin' benevolently down at us
+over the rim of his spectacles right now," Bill replied, as he pulled
+the corral ropes out of the wagon.
+
+"What makes you think so?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"What Jondo said about his _feeling Indians_, I guess, but he reads
+these prairie trails as easy as Robinson Crusoe read Friday's footprints
+in the sand, and he hasn't read anything in 'em yet. Indians don't
+fight at night, anyhow. That's one good thing. Get hold of that rope,
+Bev, and pull her up tight," Bill replied.
+
+Every night our four wagons in camp made a hollow square, with space
+enough allowed at the corners to enlarge the corral inside for the
+stock. These corners were securely roped across from wagon to wagon.
+To-night, however, the corral space was reduced and the quartet of
+vehicles huddled closer together.
+
+At dusk the hot wind came sweeping in from the southwest, a wild,
+lashing fury, swirling the sand in great spirals from the river bed. Our
+fire was put out and the blackness of midnight fell upon us. The horses
+were restless and the mules squealed and stamped. All night the very
+spirit of fear seemed to fill the air.
+
+Just before daybreak a huge black storm-cloud came boiling up out of the
+southwest, with a weird yellow band across the sky before it. Overhead
+the stars shed a dim light on the shadowy face of the plains. A sudden
+whisper thrilled the camp, chilling our hearts within us.
+
+"Indians near!" We all knew it in a flash.
+
+Jondo, on guard, had caught the sign first. Something creeping across
+the trail, not a coyote, for it stood upright a moment, then bent again,
+and was lost in the deep gloom. Jondo had shifted to another angle of
+the outlook, had seen it again, and again at a third point. It was
+encircling the camp. Then all of us, except Jondo, began to see moving
+shapes. He saw nothing for a long time, and our spirits rose again.
+
+"You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he stared
+into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal wind. It's one
+darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."
+
+"I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big plainsman
+replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The trouble is that it is
+watching now. Everybody lay low. It will come to life again. I hope
+there's only one of it."
+
+We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about and
+fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.
+
+It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
+Something creeping near, and nearer.
+
+The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
+beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung like a
+weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a form rose from
+the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both arms toward us. And a
+low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our ears.
+
+Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their foes
+out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a little girl, no
+larger than our Mat--and again came the low call. The voice was Indian,
+the accent Spanish, but the words were English.
+
+"Come to us!" Esmond Clarenden answered back in a clear, low tone; and
+slowly and noiselessly the girl approached the camp.
+
+I can feel it all now, although that was many years ago: the soft
+starlight on the plains; the hot, still air holding its breath against
+the oncoming tornado; the group of wagons making a deeper shadow in the
+dull light; beyond us the bold front of old Pawnee Rock, huge and gray
+in the gloom; our little company standing close together, ready to hurl
+a shower of bullets if this proved but the decoy of a hidden foe; and
+the girl with light step drawing nearer. Clad in the picturesque garb of
+the Southwest Indian, her hair hanging in a great braid over each
+shoulder, her dark eyes fixed on us, she made a picture in that dusky
+setting that an artist might not have given to his brush twice in a
+lifetime on the plains.
+
+A few feet from us she halted.
+
+"Throw up your hands!" Jondo commanded.
+
+The slim brown arms were flung above the girl's head, and I caught the
+glint of quaintly hammered silver bracelets, as she stepped forward with
+that ease of motion that generations of moccasined feet on sand and sod
+and stone can give.
+
+"Take me," she cried, pleadingly. "The Mexicans steal me from my people
+and bring me far away. They meet Kiowa. Kiowa beat me; make me slave."
+
+She held up her hands. They were lacerated and bleeding. She slipped the
+bright blanket from her brown shoulder. It was bruised and swollen.
+
+"You go to Santa Fe? Take me. I do you good, not bad."
+
+"What would these Kiowas do to us, then?"
+
+It was Bill Banney who spoke.
+
+"They follow you--kill you."
+
+"Oh, cheerful! I wish you were twins," Rex Krane said, softly.
+
+Jondo lifted his hand.
+
+"Let me talk to her," he said.
+
+Then in her own language he got her story.
+
+"Here we are." He turned to us. "Stolen from her people by the Mexicans,
+probably the same ones we passed in Council Grove; traded to the Kiowas
+out here somewhere, beaten, and starved, and held for ransom, or trade
+to some other tribe. They are over there behind Pawnee Rock. They got
+sight of us somehow, but they don't intend to bother us. They are on the
+lookout for a bigger train. She has slipped away while they sleep. If we
+send her back she will be beaten and made a slave. If we keep her, they
+will follow us for a fight. They are fifty to our six. What shall we
+do?"
+
+"We don't need any Indians to help us get into trouble. We are sure
+enough of it without that," Bill Banney declared. "And what's one
+Indian, anyhow? She's just--"
+
+"Just a little orphan girl like Mat," Rex Krane finished his sentence.
+
+Bill frowned, but made no reply.
+
+The Indian girl was standing outside the corral, listening to all that
+was said, her face giving no sign of the struggle between hope and
+despair that must have striven within her.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances." Beverly's boyish
+voice had a defiant tone, for the spirit of adventure was strong within
+him. The girl turned quickly and a great light leaped into her eyes at
+the boy's words.
+
+"Save a life and lose ours. It's not the rule of the plains,
+but--there's a higher law like that somewhere, Clarenden," Jondo said,
+earnestly.
+
+The girl came swiftly toward Uncle Esmond and stood upright before him.
+
+"I will not hide the truth. I go back to Kiowas. They sell me for big
+treasure. They will not harm you," she said. "I stay with you, they say
+you steal me, and they come at the first bird's song and kill you every
+one. They are so many."
+
+She stood motionless before him, the seal of grim despair on her young
+face.
+
+"What's your name?" Esmond Clarenden asked. "Po-a-be. In your words,
+'Little Blue Flower,'" the girl said.
+
+"Then, Little Blue Flower, you must stay with us."
+
+She pointed toward the eastern sky where a faint light was beginning to
+show above the horizon. "See, the day comes!"
+
+"Then we will break camp now," my uncle said.
+
+"Not in the face of this storm, Clarenden," Jondo declared. "You can
+fight an Indian. You can't do a thing but 'hold fast' in one of these
+hurricanes."
+
+The air was still and hot. The black cloud swept swiftly onward, with
+the weird yellow glow before it. In the solitude of the plains the trail
+showed like a ghostly pathway of peril. Before us loomed that grim rock
+bluff, behind whose crest lay the sleeping band of Kiowas. It was only
+because they slept that Little Blue Flower could steal away in hope of
+rescue.
+
+Hotter grew the air and darker the swiftly rolling clouds; black and
+awful stood old Pawnee Rock with the silent menace of its sleeping
+enemy. In the stillness of the pause before the storm burst we heard
+Jondo's voice commanding us. With our first care for the frightened
+stock, we grouped ourselves together as he ordered close under the
+bluff.
+
+Suddenly an angry wind leaped out of the sky, beating back the hot dead
+air with gigantic flails of fury. Then the storm broke with tornado rage
+and cloudburst floods, and in its track terror reigned. Beverly and I
+clung together, and, holding a hand of each, Mat Nivers crouched beside
+us, herself strong in this second test of courage as she had been in the
+camp that night at Council Grove.
+
+I have never been afraid of storms and I can never understand why timid
+folk should speak of them as of a living, self-directing force bent
+purposely on human destruction. I love the splendor of the lightning and
+the thunder's peal. From our earliest years, Beverly and Mat and I had
+watched the flood-waters of the Missouri sweep over the bottomlands, and
+we had heard the winds rave, and the cannonading of the angry heavens.
+But this mad blast of the prairie storm was like nothing we had ever
+seen or heard before. A yellow glare filled the sky, a half-illumined,
+evil glow, as if to hide what lay beyond it. One breathed in fine sand,
+and tasted the desert dust. Behind it, all copper-green, a broad, lurid
+band swept up toward the zenith. Under its weird, unearthly light, the
+prairies, and everything upon them, took on a ghastly hue. Then came the
+inky-black storm-cloud--long, funnel-shaped, pendulous--and in its
+deafening roar and the thick darkness that could be felt, and the awful
+sweep of its all-engulfing embrace, the senses failed and the very
+breath of life seemed beaten away. The floods fell in streams, hot, then
+suddenly cold. And then a fusillade of hail bombarded the flat prairies,
+defenseless beneath the munitions of the heavens. But in all the wild,
+mad blackness, in the shriek and crash of maniac winds, in the swirl of
+many waters, and chill and fury of the threshing hail, the law of the
+trail failed not: "Hold fast." And with our hands gripped in one
+another's, we children kept the law.
+
+Just at the moment when destruction seemed upon us, the long swinging
+cloud--funnel lifted. We heard it passing high above us. Then it dropped
+against the face of old Pawnee Rock, that must have held the trail law
+through all the centuries of storms that have beaten against its bold,
+stern front. One tremendous blast, one crashing boom, as if the
+foundations of the earth were broken loose, and the thing had left us
+far behind.
+
+Daylight burst upon us in a moment, and the blue heavens smiled down on
+the clean-washed prairies. No homes, no crops, no orchards were left in
+ruins in those days to mark the cyclone's wrath on wilderness trails. As
+the darkness lifted we gathered ourselves together to take hold of life
+again and to defend ourselves from our human enemy.
+
+A shower of arrows from the top of the bluff might rain upon us at any
+moment, yelling warriors might rush upon us, or a ring of riders
+encircle us. It was in times like this that I learned how quickly men
+can get the mastery.
+
+Jondo and Esmond Clarenden did not delay a minute in protecting the camp
+and setting it in order, taking inventory of the lost and searching for
+the missing. Three of our number, with one of the ponies, were missing.
+
+Aunty Boone had crouched in a protected angle at the base of the bluff,
+and when we found her she was calmly smoking her pipe.
+
+"Yo' skeered of this little puff?" she queried. "Yo' bettah see a simoon
+on the desset, then. This here--just a racket. What's come of that
+little redskin?"
+
+She was not to be found. Nor was there any trace of Rex Krane anywhere.
+In consternation we scanned the prairies far and wide, but only level
+green distances were about us, holding no sign of life. We lived hours
+in those watching minutes.
+
+Suddenly Beverly gave a shout, and we saw Little Blue Flower running
+swiftly from the sloping side of the bluff toward the camp. Behind her
+stalked the young New-Englander.
+
+"I went up to see what she was in such a hurry for to see," he
+explained, simply. "I calculated it would be as interestin' to me as to
+her, and if anything was about to cut loose"--he laid a hand carelessly
+on his revolver--"why, I'd help it along. The little pink pansy, it
+seems, went to look after our friends, the enemy," Rex went on. "The
+hail nearly busted that old rock open. I thought once it had. The ponies
+are scattered and likewise the Kiowas. Gone helter-skelter, like
+the--tornado. The thing hit hard up there. Some ponies dead, and mebby
+an Indian or two. I didn't hunt 'em up. I can't use 'em that way," he
+added. "So I just said, 'Pax vobiscum!' and a lot of it, and came
+kittering back."
+
+Little Blue Flower's eyes glistened.
+
+"Gone, all gone. The rain god drove them away. Now I know I may go with
+you. The rain god loves you."
+
+It was to Beverly, and not to my uncle, that her eyes turned as she
+spoke, but he was not even listening to her. To him she was merely an
+Indian. She seemed more than that to me, and therein lay the difference
+between us.
+
+If she had been interesting under the starlight, in the light of day she
+became picturesque, a beautiful type of her race, silent, alert of
+countenance, with big, expressive, black eyes, and long, heavy braids of
+black hair. With her brilliant blanket about her shoulders, a turquoise
+pendant on a leather band at her throat, silver bracelets on her brown
+arms, she was as pleasing as an Indian maiden could be--adding a touch
+of picturesque life to that wonderful journey westward from Pawnee Rock
+to Santa Fe. Aunty Boone alone resented her presence among us.
+
+"You can trust a nigger," she growled, "'cause you know they none of 'em
+no 'count. But you can't tell about this Injun, whether she's good or
+bad. I lets that sort of fish alone."
+
+Little Blue Flower looked up at her with steady gaze and made no reply.
+
+Out of that morning's events I learned a lasting lesson, and I know now
+that the influence of Rex Krane on my life began that day, as I recalled
+how he had followed Aunty Boone about the dark corners of the little
+trading-post on the Neosho; and how he had looked at Mat Nivers once
+when Uncle Esmond had suggested his turning back to Independence; and
+how he had gone before all of us, the vanguard, to the top of the bluff
+west of Council Grove; and now he had followed this Indian girl. From
+that time I knew in my boy heart that this tall, careless Boston youth
+had a zealous care for the safety of women and children. How much care,
+events would run swiftly on to show me. But welded into my life from
+that hour was the meaning of a man's high, chivalric duty. And among all
+the lessons that the old trail taught to me, none served me more than
+this one that came to me on that sweet May morning beneath the shadow of
+Pawnee Rock.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+SPYING OUT THE LAND
+
+
+  City of the Holy Faith,
+    In thy streets so dim with age,
+  Do I read not Faith's decay,
+    But the Future's heritage.
+                        --LILIAN WHITING.
+
+
+Day was passing and the shadows were already beginning to grow purple in
+the valleys, long before the golden light had left the opal-crowned
+peaks of the Sangre-de-Christo Mountains beyond them.
+
+On the wide crest of a rocky ridge our wagons halted. Behind us the long
+trail stretched back, past mountain height and canon wall, past barren
+slope and rolling green prairie, on to where the wooded ravines hem in
+the Missouri's yellow floods.
+
+Before us lay a level plain, edged round with high mesas, over which
+snowy-topped mountain peaks kept watch. A sandy plain, checkered across
+by verdant-banded arroyos, and splotched with little clumps of trees and
+little fields of corn. In the heart of it all was Santa Fe, a mere group
+of dust-brown adobe blocks--silent, unsmiling, expressionless--the
+city of the Spanish Mexican, centuries old and centuries primitive.
+
+As our tired mules slackened their traces and drooped to rest after the
+long up-climb, Esmond Clarenden called out:
+
+"Come here, children. Yonder is the end of the trail."
+
+We gathered eagerly about him, a picture in ourselves, maybe, in an age
+of picturesque things; four men, bronzed and bearded; two sturdy boys;
+Mat Nivers, no longer a little girl, it seemed now, with the bloom of
+health on her tanned cheeks, and the smile of good nature in wide gray
+eyes; beside her, the Indian maiden, Little Blue Flower, slim, brown,
+lithe of motion, brief of speech; and towering back of all, the
+glistening black face of the big, silent African woman.
+
+So we stood looking out toward that northwest plain where the trail lost
+itself among the low adobe huts huddled together beside the glistening
+waters of the Santa Fe River.
+
+Rex Krane was the first to speak.
+
+"So that's what we've come out for to see, is it?" he mused, aloud.
+"That's the precious old town that we've dodged Indians, and shot
+rattlesnakes, and sunburnt our noses, and rain-soaked our dress suits
+for! That's why we've pillowed our heads on the cushiony cactus and
+tramped through purling sands, and blistered our hands pullin' at
+eider-down ropes, and strained our leg-muscles goin' down, and busted
+our lungs comin' up, and clawed along the top edge of the world with
+nothin' but healthy climate between us and the bottom of the bottomless
+pit. Humph! That's what you call Santa Fe! 'The city of the Holy Faith!'
+Well, I need a darned lot of 'holy faith' to make me see any city there.
+It's just a bunch of old yellow brick-kilns to me, and I 'most wish now
+I'd stayed back at Independence and hunted dog-tooth violets along the
+Big Blue."
+
+"It's not Boston, if that's what you were looking for; at least there's
+no Bunker Hill Monument nor Back Bay anywhere in sight. But I reckon
+it's the best they've got. I'm tired enough to take what's offered and
+keep still," Bill Banney declared.
+
+I, too, wanted to keep still. I had only a faint memory of a real city.
+It must have been St. Louis, for there was a wharf, and a steamboat and
+a busy street, and soft voices--speaking a foreign tongue. But the
+pictures I had seen, and the talk I had heard, coupled with a little
+boy's keen imagination, had built up a very different Santa Fe in my
+mind. At that moment I was homesick for Fort Leavenworth, through and
+through homesick, for the first time since that April day when I had sat
+on the bluff above the Missouri River while the vision of the plains
+descended upon me. Everything seemed so different to-night, as if a gulf
+had widened between us and all the nights behind us.
+
+We went into camp on the ridge, with the journey's goal in plain view.
+And as we sat down together about the fire after supper we forgot the
+hardships of the way over which we had come. The pine logs blazed
+cheerily, and as the air grew chill we drew nearer together about them
+as about a home fireside.
+
+The long June twilight fell upon the landscape. The pinon and scrubby
+cedars turned to dark blotches on the slopes. The valley swam in a
+purple mist. The silence of evening was broken only by a faint bird-note
+in the bushes, and the fainter call of some wild thing stealing forth at
+nightfall from its daytime retreat. Behind us the mesas and headlands
+loomed up black and sullen, but far before us the Sangre-de-Christo
+Mountains lifted their glorified crests, with the sun's last radiance
+bathing them in crimson floods.
+
+We sat in silence for a long time, for nobody cared to talk. Presently
+we heard Aunty Boone's low, penetrating voice inside the wagon corral:
+
+"You pore gob of ugliness! Yo' done yo' best, and it's green corn and
+plenty of watah and all this grizzly-gray grass you can stuff in now.
+It's good for a mule to start right, same as a man. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The low voice trailed off into weird little whoops of approval. Then the
+woman wandered away to the edge of the bluff and sat until late that
+night, looking out at the strange, entrancing New Mexican landscape.
+
+"To-morrow we put on our best clothes and enter the city," my uncle
+broke the silence. "We have managed to pull through so far, and we
+intend to keep on pulling till we unload back at Independence again.
+But these are unsafe times and we are in an unsafe country. We are going
+to do business and get out of it again as soon as possible. I shall ask
+you all to be ready to leave at a minute's notice, if you are coming
+back with me!"
+
+"Now you see why I didn't join the army, don't you, Krane?" Bill Banney
+said, aside. "I wanted to work under a real general."
+
+Then turning to my uncle, he added:
+
+"I'm already contracted for the round trip, Clarenden."
+
+"You are going to start back just as if there were no dangers to be
+met?" Rex Krane inquired.
+
+"As if there were dangers to be _met_, not run from," Esmond Clarenden
+replied.
+
+"Clarenden," the young Bostonian began, "you got away from that drunken
+mob at Independence with your children, your mules, and your big Daniel
+Boone. You started out when war was ragin' on the Mexican frontier, and
+never stopped a minute because you had to come it alone from Council
+Grove. You shook yourself and family right through the teeth of that
+Mexican gang layin' for you back there. You took Little Trailing Arbutus
+at Pawnee Rock out of pure sympathy when you knew it meant a fight at
+sun-up, six against fifty. And there would have been a bloody one, too,
+but for that merciful West India hurricane bustin' up the show. You
+pulled us up the Arkansas River, and straddled the Gloriettas, with
+every danger that could ever be just whistlin' about our ears. And now
+you sit there and murmur softly that 'we are in an unsafe country and
+these are unsafe times,' so we'd better be toddlin' back home right
+soon. I want to tell _you_ something now."
+
+He paused and looked at Mat Nivers. Always he looked at Mat Nivers, who
+since the first blush one noonday long ago, so it seemed, now, never
+appeared to know or care where he looked. He must have had such a sister
+himself; I felt sure of that now.
+
+"I want to tell _you_," Rex repeated, "that I'm goin' to stay with you.
+There's something _safe_ about you. And then," he added, carelessly, as
+he gazed out toward the darkening plain below us, "my mother always said
+you could tie to a man who was good to children. And you've been good to
+this infant Kentuckian here."
+
+He flung out a hand toward Bill Banney without looking away from the
+open West. "When you want to start back to God's country and the land of
+Plymouth Rocks and Pawnee Rocks, I'm ready to trot along."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that, Krane," Esmond Clarenden said. "I shall
+need all the help I can get on the way back. Because we got through
+safely we cannot necessarily count on a safe return. I may need you in
+Santa Fe, too."
+
+"Then command me," Rex replied.
+
+He looked toward Mat again, but she and Little Blue Flower were coiling
+their long hair in fantastic fashion about their heads, and laughing
+like school-girls together.
+
+Little Blue Flower was as a shy brown fawn following us. She had a way
+of copying Mat's manner, and she spoke less of Indian and Spanish and
+more of English from day to day. She had laid aside her Indian dress for
+one of Mat's neat gingham gowns. I think she tried hard to forget her
+race in everything except her prayers, for her own people had all been
+slain by Mexican ruffians. We could not have helped liking her if we had
+tried to do so. Yet that invisible race barrier that kept a fixed gulf
+between us and Aunty Boone separated us also from the lovable little
+Indian lass, albeit the gulf was far less deep and impassable.
+
+To-night when she and Mat scampered away to the family wagon together,
+she seemed somehow to really belong to us.
+
+Presently Jondo and Rex Krane and Bill and Beverly rolled their blankets
+about them and went to sleep, leaving Esmond Clarenden and myself alone
+beside the dying fire. The air was sharp and the night silence deepened
+as the stars came into the skies.
+
+"Why don't you go to bed, Gail?" my uncle asked.
+
+"I'm not sleepy. I'm homesick," I replied. "Come here, boy." He opened
+his arms to me, and I nestled in their embrace.
+
+"You've grown a lot in these two months, little man," he said, softly.
+"You are a brave-hearted plainsman, and a good, strong little limb when
+it comes to endurance, but just once in a while all of us need a
+mothering touch. It keeps us sweet, my boy. It keeps us sweet and fit to
+live."
+
+Oh, many a time in the years that followed did the loving embrace and
+the gentle words of this gentle, strong man come back to comfort me.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Gail. I'm going to need a boy like you to
+help me a lot before we leave Santa Fe, and I shall count on you."
+
+Just then a noise at the far side of the corral seemed to disturb the
+stock. A faint stir of awakening or surprise--just a hint in the air.
+All was still in a moment. Then it came again. We listened. Something,
+an indefinite something, somewhere, was astir. The surprise became
+unrest, anxiety, fear, among the mules.
+
+"Wait here, Gail. I'll see what's up," Uncle Esmond said, in a low
+voice.
+
+He hurried away toward the corral and I slipped back in the shadow of a
+rock and leaned against it to wait.
+
+In the dim beams of a starlit New Mexican sky I could see clearly out
+toward the valley, but behind the camp all was darkness. As I waited,
+hidden by the shadows, suddenly the flap of the family-wagon cover
+lifted and Little Blue Flower slid out as softly as a cat walks in the
+dust. She was dressed in her own Indian garb now, with her bright
+blanket drawn picturesquely about her head and shoulders. Silently she
+moved about the camp, peering toward the shadows hiding me. Then with
+noiseless step she slipped toward where Beverly Clarenden lay, his
+boyish face upturned to the stars, sleeping the dreamless sleep of
+youth and health. I leaned forward and stared hard as the girl
+approached him. I saw her drop down on one knee beside him, and, bending
+over him, she gently kissed his forehead. She rose and gave one hurried
+look around the place and then, like a bird lifting its wings for
+flight, she threw up her arms, and in another moment she sprang to the
+edge of the ridge and slipped from view. I followed, only to see her
+gliding swiftly away, farther and farther, along the dim trail, until
+the shadows swallowed her from my sight.
+
+A low whinny from the corral caught my ear, followed by a rush of
+horses' feet. As I slipped into my place again to wait for my uncle to
+return, the smoldering logs blazed out suddenly, lighting up the form of
+a man who appeared just beyond the fire, so that I saw the face
+distinctly. Then he, too, was gone, following the way the Indian girl
+had taken, until he lost himself in the misty dullness of the plains.
+
+Presently Esmond Clarenden came back to the camp-fire.
+
+"Gail, the pony we lost in that storm at Pawnee Rock has come back to
+us. It was standing outside the corral, waiting to get in, just as if it
+had lost us for a couple of hours. It is in good condition, too."
+
+"How could it ever get here?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Any one of a dozen ways," my uncle replied. "It may have run far that
+stormy morning when it broke out of the corral, and possibly some party
+coming over the Cimarron Trail picked it up and roved on this way. There
+is no telling how it got here, since it keeps still itself about the
+matter. Losing and finding and losing again is the law of events on the
+plains."
+
+"But why should it find us right here to-night, like it had been led
+back?" I insisted.
+
+"That's the miracle of it, Gail. It is always the strange thing that
+really happens here. In years to come, if you ever tell the truth about
+this trip, it will not be believed. When this isn't the frontier any
+longer, the story of the trail will be accounted impossible."
+
+Everything seemed impossible to me as I sat there staring at the dying
+fire. Presently I remembered what I had seen while my uncle was away.
+
+"Little Blue Flower has run away," I said, "and I saw the Mexican that
+came to Fort Leavenworth the day before I twisted my ankle. He slipped
+by here just a minute ago. I know, for I saw his face when the logs
+flared up."
+
+Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most remarkable
+memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he said.
+
+"Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony after
+us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I ever see him
+before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"
+
+"You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But dreams
+don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are needed."
+
+"Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.
+
+"Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it comes to
+doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a bit reckless
+sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them level."
+
+"Don't I do, too?" I inquired.
+
+"Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you mustn't
+forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must
+fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who come after us may be
+the better for our having them. What was it you said about Little Blue
+Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten her for the moment.
+
+"She's gone to Santa Fe, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle Esmond? Tell me all
+about things," I urged.
+
+"We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
+freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't know
+what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just felt Indian, as
+Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you, Gail, that it may have been
+the Mexican who got our pony for us. He is a strange fellow, walks like
+a cat, has ears like a timber wolf, and the cunning of a fox."
+
+"Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.
+
+"Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me an
+important message, and he waited at Independence to see us off. Do you
+remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council Grove? I think he
+followed the Mexican spy across the river to our camp and sent him on
+east. Then he went back and got the crowd all mixed up by his report,
+while their own man scouted the trail out there for miles all night. He
+is the man who put you through town and decoyed the ruffians to one
+side. He located us after we had crossed the river, and then broke up
+their meeting and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That
+is the way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
+and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.
+
+"Sooner or later however," my uncle went on, "we will have to reckon
+with that Kiowa tribe for stealing their captive. They meant to return
+her for a big ransom price.... Great Heavens, Gail! You seem like a man
+to me to-night instead of my little boy back at the fort. The plains
+bring years to us instead of months, with just one crossing. I am
+counting on you not to tell all you've been told and all you've seen. I
+can be sure of you if you can keep things to yourself. You'd better get
+to sleep now. There will be plenty to see over in Santa Fe. And there is
+always danger afoot. But remember, it is the coward who finds the most
+trouble in this world. Do your part with a gentleman's heart and a
+hero's hand, and you'll get to the end of every trail safely. Now go to
+bed."
+
+Where I lay that night I could see a wide space of star-gemmed sky, the
+blue night-sky of the Southwest, and I wondered, as I looked up into
+the starry deeps, how God could keep so many bright bodies afield up
+there, and yet take time to guard all the wandering children of men.
+
+With the day-dawn the strange events of the night seemed as unreal as
+the vanishing night-shadows. The bluest skies of a blue-sky land curved
+in fathomless majesty over the yellow valley of the Santa Fe. Against
+its borders loomed the silent mountain ranges--purple-shaddowed,
+silver-topped Ortiz and Jemez, Sandia and Sangre-de-Christo. Dusty and
+deserted lay the trail, save that here and there a group of dark-faced
+carriers of firewood prodded on their fagot-laden burros toward the
+distant town. As our wagons halted at the sandy borders of an arroyo the
+brown-clad form of a priest rose up from the shade of a group of scrubby
+pinon-trees beside the trail.
+
+Esmond Clarenden lifted his hat in greeting.
+
+"Are you going our way? We can give you a ride," he paused to say.
+
+The man's face was very dark, but it was a young, strong face, and his
+large, dark eyes were full of the fire of life. When he spoke his voice
+was low and musical.
+
+"I thank you. I go toward the mountains. You stay here long?"
+
+"Only to dispose of my goods. My business is brief," Esmond Clarenden
+declared.
+
+The good man leaned forward as if to see each face there, sweeping in
+everything at one glance. Then he looked down at the ground.
+
+"These are troublesome days. War is only a temporary evil, but it makes
+for hate, and hate kills as it dies. Love lives and gives life." A smile
+lighted his eyes, though his lips were firm. "I wish you well. Among
+friends or enemies the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+Uncle Esmond bowed his head reverently.
+
+"You will find it beside the trail near the river. The walls are very
+old and strong, but not so old as hate, nor so strong as love. A little
+street runs from it, crooked--six houses away. Peace be to all of you."
+He broke off suddenly and his last sentence was spoken in a clear,
+strong tone unlike the gentler voice.
+
+"I thank you, Father!" Jondo said, as the priest passed his wagon.
+
+The holy man gave him one swift, searching glance. Then lifting his
+right hand as if in blessing, and slowly dropping it until the
+forefinger pointed toward the west, he passed on his way.
+
+Jondo's brown cheek flushed and the lines about his mouth grew hard.
+
+"Take my place, Bev," he said, as he left his wagon and joined Esmond
+Clarenden.
+
+The two spoke earnestly together. Then Jondo mounted Beverly's pony.
+
+"If you need me--" I heard him say, and he turned away and rode in the
+direction the priest had taken.
+
+Uncle Esmond offered no explanation for this sudden action, and his
+sunny face was stern.
+
+Usually wagon-trains were spied out long before they reached the city,
+and a rabble attended their entry. To-day we moved along quietly until
+the trail became a mere walled lane. On either side one-story adobe huts
+sat with their backs to the street. No windows opened to the front, and
+only a wooden door or a closed gateway stared in blank unfriendliness at
+the passer-by. Little straggling lanes led off aimlessly on either side,
+as narrow and silent as the strange terminal of the long trail itself.
+
+I was only a boy, with the heart of a boy and the eyes of a boy. I could
+only feel; I could not understand the spell of that hour. But to me
+everything was alluring, wrapt as it was in the mystery of a
+civilization old here when Plymouth Rock felt the first Pilgrim's foot,
+or Pawnee Rock stared at the first bold plainsman of the pale face and
+the conquering soul.
+
+I was riding beside Beverly's wagon as we neared the quaint,
+centuries-old, adobe church of San Miguel, rising tall and silent above
+the low huts about it, its rough walls suggesting a fortress of
+strength, while its triple towers might be an outlook for a guardsman.
+
+"Look at that church. Bev, I wonder how old it is," I exclaimed.
+
+"I should say about a thousand years and a day," Beverly declared. "See
+that flopsy steeple thing! It looks like building-blocks stacked up
+there."
+
+"Maybe this is the sanctuary that priest was talking about," I
+suggested. "He said the walls were old as hate and strong as love, with
+a crooked street beside it somewhere."
+
+"Oh, you sponge! Soaking up everything you see and hear. I wonder you
+sleep nights for fear the wind will tell the pine trees something you'll
+miss," Beverly declared. "I can tell a horse's age by its teeth, but
+churches don't have teeth. Go and ask Mat about it. She knows when the
+De Sotos and Corteses and all the other Spanish grandaddees came to
+Mexico."
+
+I had just turned back alongside of Mat's wagon--she was always our book
+of ready reference--when a little girl suddenly dashed out of a walled
+lane opening into the street behind us. She stopped in the middle of the
+road, almost under my pony's feet, then with a shout of laughter she
+dashed into the deep doorway of the church and stood there, peering out
+at me with eyes brimful of mischief.
+
+I brought my pony back on its haunches suddenly. I had seen this girl
+before. The big dark eyes, the straight little nose, the curve of the
+pink cheek, the china-smooth chin and neck, and, crowning all, the cloud
+of golden hair shading her forehead and falling in tangled curls behind.
+
+I did not notice all these features now. It was only the eyes, dark
+eyes, somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, and maybe the halo of
+hair that had been in my vision on that day when Beverly and Mat Nivers
+and I sat on the parade-ground facing a sudden turn in our life trail.
+
+I stared at the eyes now, only half conscious that the girl was laughing
+at me.
+
+"You big brown bob-cat! You look like you had slept in the Hondo 'royo
+all your life," she cried, and turned to run away again.
+
+As she did so a dark face peered round the corner of the church from the
+crooked street beside it. A sudden gleam of white teeth and glistening
+eyes, a sudden leap and grip, and a boy, larger than Beverly, caught the
+little girl by the shoulders and shook her viciously.
+
+She screamed and struggled. Then, with a wild shriek as he clutched at
+her curls, she wrenched herself away and plunged inside the church. The
+boy dived in after her. Another scream, and I had dropped from my pony
+and leaped across the road. I pushed open the door against the two
+struggling together. With one grip at his coat-collar I broke his hold
+on the little girl and flung him outside.
+
+I have a faint recollection of a priest hurrying down the aisle toward
+the fighting children, as the little girl, freed from her assailant,
+dashed out of the door.
+
+"He jumped at her first, and shook her and pulled her hair," I cried, as
+the priest caught me by the shoulder. "I'm not going to see anybody
+pitched into, not a little girl, anyhow."
+
+I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At the
+corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her eyes
+blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her face.
+
+"I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and"--her voice softened and the defiant
+eyes grew mischievous--"you aren't a bob-cat. You're a--Look out!"
+
+She shouted the last words and disappeared up the narrow, crooked
+street, just as a fragment of rock whizzed over my shoulder. I jumped on
+my pony to dash away, when another rock just missed my head, and I saw
+the boy, Marcos, beside the church, ready for a third hurl. His black
+eyes flashed fire, and the grin of malice on his face showed all his
+fine white teeth.
+
+I was as mad as a boy can be. Instead of fleeing, I spurred my pony
+straight at him.
+
+"You little beast, I dare you to throw that rock at me! I dare you!" I
+cried.
+
+The boy dropped the missile and sped away after the girl. I followed in
+time to see them enter a doorway, six or seven houses up the way. Then I
+turned back, and in a minute I had overtaken our wagons trailing down to
+the ford of the Santa Fe River.
+
+"I thought mebby you'd gone back after Jondo and that holy podder," Rex
+Krane greeted me. "Better begin to wink naturally and look a little
+pleasanter now. We'll be in the Plazzer in two or three minutes."
+
+The drivers flourished their whips, the mules caught their spirit, and
+with bump and lurch and rattle we swung down the narrow crack between
+adobe walls that ended before the old Exchange Hotel at the corner of
+the Plaza.
+
+This open square in the center of the city was shaded by trees and
+littered with refuse. The Palace of the Governors fronted it along the
+entire north side, a long, low, one-story structure whose massive adobe
+walls defy the wearing years. Compared to the kingly palaces of my
+imagination, this royal dwelling seemed a very commonplace thing, and
+the wide portal, or veranda, that ran along its front looked like one of
+the sheds about the barracks at the fort rather than an entranceway for
+rulers. Yet this was the house of a ruler hostile to that flag to which
+I had thrown a good-by kiss, up at Fort Leavenworth.
+
+On the other three sides of the Plaza were other low adobe buildings,
+for the business of the city faced this central square.
+
+A crowd was gathered there when we reached it. Somebody standing before
+the Palace of the Governors was haranguing in fiery Spanish, if gesture
+and oral vehemence are true tokens.
+
+As our wagons rumbled up to the corner of the square the crowd broke up
+with a shout.
+
+"Los Americanos! Los Carros!"
+
+The cry went up everywhere as the rabble left the speaker to flock about
+us--men, women, children, Mexican, Spanish, Indian, with now and then a
+Saxon face among them. Our outfit was as well appointed as such a
+journey's end permitted. We were in our best clothes--clean-shaven
+gentlemen, well-dressed boys, and one girl, neat and comely in a
+dark-blue gown of thin stuff with white lace at throat and wrist; and
+last, and biggest of all, Aunty Boone, in a bright-green lawn with
+little white dots all over it.
+
+As I sat on my pony beside my uncle's wagon, I caught sight of the slim
+figure of Little Blue Flower, well back in the shade of the Plaza. She
+was watching Beverly, who sat in Jondo's wagon, staring at the crowd and
+seeing no one in particular. A minute later a tall young Indian boy
+stepped in front of her, and when he moved away she was gone.
+
+Many men came forward to greet Esmond Clarenden, and there were many
+inquiries regarding his goods and many exclamations of surprise that he
+had come alone with so valuable a cargo.
+
+It was the first time that Beverly and I had seen him among his equals.
+At Fort Leavenworth, where the army overruled everything else, men stood
+above him in authority or below him in business affairs; and while he
+never cringed to the one, nor patronized the other, where there are no
+competitors there are no true measures. That day in the Plaza of Santa
+Fe the merchant was in his own kingdom, where commerce stood above
+everything else.
+
+Moreover, this American merchant, following a danger-girt trail, had
+come in fearlessly, and those men of the Plaza knew that he was one to
+exact value for value in all his dealings. But I believe that his real
+power lay in his ready smile, his courtesy, his patience, and his
+up-bubbling good nature that made him a friendship-builder.
+
+Among the men who came to make acquaintance with the American trader was
+a Mexican merchant. Evidently he was a man of some importance, for an
+interpreter hastened to introduce him, explaining that this man had been
+away on a journey of some weeks among the mines of New Mexico and the
+Southwest, and only the day before he had come in from Taos.
+
+"You will find him a prince of merchants, a sound, unprejudiced business
+man. His name is Felix Narveo," the American interpreter added.
+
+The two men shook hands, greeting each other in the Spanish tongue. This
+Felix Narveo was well dressed and well groomed, but I recognized him at
+once as the Mexican of Fort Leavenworth and Independence and Council
+Grove.
+
+There was one man in that company, however, who did not come forward at
+all. When I first caught sight of him he was looking at me. I stared
+back at him with a boy's curiosity, but he did not take his eyes from me
+until I had dropped my own. After that I watched him keenly. He seemed
+almost too fair for a Mexican--a tall, spare-built man with black hair,
+and eyes so steely blue that they were almost black. Everywhere I saw
+him--at the corners of the little crowd and in the thick of it. He was
+an easy mark, for he towered above the rest, and, being slender, he
+seemed to worm his way quickly from place to place. At sight of him,
+Aunty Boone, who had been peering out with shining eyes, drew her head
+in as quick as a snake, under the shadow of the wagon cover, and her
+eyes grew dull. He had not seen her, but I could see that he was
+watching the remainder of us, and especially my uncle; and I began to
+feel afraid of him and to wish that he would leave the Plaza. It was
+years ago that all this happened, and yet to-day my fear of that man
+still sticks in my memory.
+
+When he turned away, suddenly I caught sight of the boy, whom I had
+flung out of the church, standing behind him, the boy whom the little
+girl had called Marcos. Although his face was dark and the man's was
+fair, there was a strong likeness between the two.
+
+This Marcos stared insolently at all of us. Then with a laugh and a
+grimace at me, he ran after the man and they disappeared together around
+the corner of the Palace of the Governors. And in the rush of strange
+sights I forgot them both for a time.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+"SANCTUARY"
+
+
+  Our dwelling-place in all generations.--Psalms xc, 1.
+
+
+They are wonderful to me still--those few brief days that followed.
+While Esmond Clarenden was forcing his business transactions to a speedy
+climax, he was all the time foreseeing Santa Fe under the United States
+Government. He had not come here as a spy, nor a speculator, but as a
+commerce-builder, knowing that the same business life would go on when
+the war cloud lifted, and that the same men who had made the plains
+commerce profitable under the Mexican flag would not be exiled when the
+Stars and Stripes should float above the old Palace of the Governors.
+Belief in the ethics of his calling and trust in manhood were ever a
+large part of his stock in trade, making him dare to go where he chose
+to go, and to do what he willed to do.
+
+But no concern for commerce nor extension of national territory
+disturbed our young minds in those sunlit days, as Mat and Beverly and I
+looked with the big, quick-seeing eyes of youth on this new strange
+world at the end of the trail.
+
+We were all together in the deserted dining-room on our first evening in
+Santa Fe when the man whom I had seen on the Plaza strolled leisurely
+in. He sat down at one of the farthest tables from us, and his eyes,
+glistening like blue-black steel, were fixed on us.
+
+Once at Fort Leavenworth I had watched in terror as a bird fluttered
+helplessly toward a still, steel-eyed snake holding it in thrall. And
+just at the moment when its enemy was ready to strike, Jondo had
+happened by and shot the snake's head off. The same terror possessed me
+now, and I began half-consciously to long for Jondo.
+
+In the midst of new sights I had hardly thought of him since he had left
+us out beyond the big arroyo. He had come into town at dusk, but soon
+after supper he had disappeared. His face was very pale, and his eyes
+had a strange look that never left them again. Something was different
+in Jondo from that day, but it did not change his gentle nature toward
+his fellow-men. During our short stay in Santa Fe we hardly saw him at
+all. We children were too busy with other things to ask questions, and
+everybody but Rex Krane was too busy to be questioned. Having nothing
+else to do, Rex became our chaperon, as Uncle Esmond must have foreseen
+he would be when he measured the young man in Independence on the day we
+left there.
+
+To-night Esmond Clarenden, smiling and good-natured, paid no heed to the
+sharp eyes of this stranger fixed on him.
+
+"What's the matter now, little weather-vane? You are always first to
+sense a coming change," he declared.
+
+"Uncle Esmond, I saw that man watching us like he knew us, out there on
+the Plaza to-day. Who is he?" I asked, in a low tone.
+
+"His name is Ferdinand Ramero. You will find him watching everywhere.
+Let that man alone as you would a snake," my uncle warned us.
+
+"Is that his boy?" I asked.
+
+"What boy?" Uncle Esmond inquired.
+
+"Marcos, the boy I pitched endways out of the church. He's bigger than
+Bev, too," I declared, proudly.
+
+"Gail Clarenden, are you crazy?" Uncle Esmond exclaimed.
+
+"No, I'm not," I insisted, and then I told what had happened at the
+church, adding, "I saw Marcos with that man in the Plaza, and they went
+away together."
+
+Esmond Clarenden's face grew grave.
+
+"What kind of a looking child was she, Gail?" he asked, after a pause.
+
+"Oh, she had yellow hair and big sort of dark eyes! She could squeal
+like anything. She wasn't a baby girl at all, but a regular little
+fighter kind of a girl."
+
+I grew bashful all at once and hesitated, but my uncle did not seem to
+hear me, for he turned to Rex Krane and said, in low, earnest tones:
+
+"Krane, if you can locate that child for me you will do me an invaluable
+service. It was largely on her account that I came here now, and it's a
+god-send to have a fellow like you to save time for me. Every man has
+his uses. Your service will be a big one to me."
+
+The young man's face flushed and his eyes shone with a new light.
+
+"If any of you happen to see that girl let me know at once," my uncle
+said, turning to us, "but, remember, don't act as if you were hunting
+for her."
+
+"I know now right where she lives. It's up a crooked street by that
+church. I saw her run in there," I insisted.
+
+"Every hut looks like every other hut, and every little Mex looks like
+every other little Mex," Beverly declared.
+
+Uncle Esmond smiled, but the stern lines in his face hardly broke as he
+said, earnestly, "Keep your eyes open and, whatever you do, stay close
+to Krane while Bill helps me here, and don't forget to watch for that
+little girl when you are sight-seeing."
+
+"There's not much to see, as Bev says, but the outside of 'dobe walls
+five feet thick," Rex Krane observed. "But if you know which wall to
+look through, the lookin' may be easy enough. Seein' things is my
+specialty, and we'll get this princess if we have to slay a giant and an
+ogre and take a few dozen Mexican scalps first. The plot just thickens.
+It's a great game." The tall New-Englander would not take life seriously
+anywhere, and, with our trust in his guardianship, we could want no
+better chaperon.
+
+That night Beverly Clarenden and I were in fairyland.
+
+"It's the princess, Bev, the princess we were looking for," I joyously
+asserted. "And, oh, Bev, she is beautiful, but snappy-like, too. She
+called me a 'big brown bob-cat', and then she apologized, just as nice
+as could be."
+
+"And this little Marcos cuss, he'll be the ogre," Beverly declared. "But
+who'll we have for the giant? That priest, footing it out by that dry
+creek-thing they call a 'royo?"
+
+"Oh no, no! He and Jondo made up together, and Jondo's nobody's bad man
+even in a story. It will be that Ferdinand Ramero," I insisted. "But,
+say, Bev, Jondo wrote a new name on the register this evening, or
+somebody wrote it for him, maybe. It wasn't his own writing. 'Jean
+Deau.' I saw it in big, round, back-slanting letters. Why did he do
+that?"
+
+"Well, I reckon that's his real name in big, round, back-slanting
+letters down here," Beverly replied. "It's French, and we have just been
+spelling it like it sounds, that's all."
+
+"Well, maybe so," I commented, and when I fell asleep it was to dream of
+a princess and Jondo by a strange name, but the same Jondo.
+
+The air of New Mexico puts iron into the blood. The trail life had
+hardened us all, but the finishing touch for Rex Krane came in the
+invigorating breath of that mountain-cooled, sun-cleansed atmosphere of
+Santa Fe. Shrewd, philosophic, brave-hearted like his historic ancestry,
+he laid his plans carefully now, sure of doing what he was set to do.
+And the wholesome sense of really serving the man who had measured his
+worth at a glance gave him a pleasure he had not known before. Of
+course, he moved slowly and indifferently. One could never imagine Rex
+Krane hurrying about anything.
+
+"We'll just 'prospect,' as Daniel Boone says," he declared, as he
+marshaled us for the day. "We are strangers, sight-seein', got no other
+business on earth, least of all any to take us up to this old San Miguel
+Church for unholy purposes. 'Course if we see a pretty little dark-eyed,
+golden-haired lassie anywhere, we'll just make a diagram of the spot
+she's stand'n' on, for future reference. We're in this game to win, but
+we don't do no foolish hurryin' about it."
+
+So we wandered away, a happy quartet, and the city offered us strange
+sights on every hand. It was all so old, so different, so silent, so
+baffling--the narrow, crooked street; the solid house-walls that hemmed
+them in; the strange tongue, strange dress, strange customs; the absence
+of smiling faces or friendly greetings; the sudden mystery of seeking
+for one whom we must not seem to seek, and the consciousness of an
+enemy, Ferdinand Ramero, whom we must avoid--that it is small wonder
+that we lived in fairyland.
+
+We saw the boy, Marcos, here and there, sometimes staring defiantly at
+us from some projected angle; sometimes slipping out of sight as we
+approached; sometimes quarreling with other children at their play. But
+nowhere, since the moment when I had seen the door close on her up that
+crooked street beside the old church, could we find any trace of the
+little girl.
+
+In the dim morning light of our fifth day in Santa Fe, a man on
+horseback, carrying a big, bulky bundle in his arms, slipped out of the
+crooked, shadow-filled street beside the old church of San Miguel. He
+halted a moment before the structure and looked up at the ancient crude
+spire outlined against the sky, then sped down the narrow way by the
+hotel at the end of the trail. He crossed the Plaza swiftly and dashed
+out beyond the Palace of the Governors and turned toward the west.
+
+Aunty Boone, who slept in the family wagon--or under it--in the
+inclosure at the rear of the hotel, had risen in time to peer out of the
+wooden gate just as the rider was passing. It was still too dark to see
+the man's face distinctly, but his form, and the burden he carried, and
+the trappings of the horse she noted carefully, as was her habit.
+
+"Up to cussedness, that man is. Mighty long an' slim. Lemme see! Humph!
+I know _him_. I'll go wake up somebody."
+
+As the woman leaned far out of the gate she caught sight of a little
+Indian girl crouching outside of the wall.
+
+"You got no business here, you, Little Blue Flower! Where do you live
+when you _do_ live?"
+
+Little Blue Flower pointed toward the west.
+
+"Why you come hangin' 'round here?" the African woman demanded.
+
+"Father Josef send me to help the people who help me," she said, in her
+soft, low voice.
+
+"Go back to your own folks, then, and tell your Daddy Joseph a man just
+stole a big bunch of something and rode south with it. He can look after
+that man. We can get along somehow. Now go."
+
+The voice was like a growl, and the little Indian maiden shrank back in
+the shadow of the wall. The next minute Aunty Boone was rapping softly
+on the door of the room whose guest had registered as Jean Deau. Ten
+minutes later another horseman left the street beside the hotel and
+crossed the Plaza, riding erect and open-faced as only Jondo could ride.
+Then the African woman sought out Rex Krane, and in a few brief
+sentences told him what had been taking place. All of which Rex was far
+too wise to repeat to Beverly and me.
+
+That afternoon it happened that we left Mat Nivers at the hotel, while
+Rex Krane and Beverly and I strolled out of town on a well-beaten trail
+leading toward the west.
+
+"It looks interestin'. Let's go on a ways," Rex commented, lazily.
+
+Nobody would have guessed from his manner but that he was indulgently
+helping us to have a good time with certain restriction as to where we
+should go, and what we might say, nor that, of the three, he was the
+most alert and full of definite purpose.
+
+We sat down beside the way as a line of burros loaded with firewood from
+the mountains trailed slowly by, with their stolid-looking drivers
+staring at us in silent unfriendliness.
+
+The last driver was the tall young Indian boy whom I had seen standing
+in front of Little Blue Flower in the crowd of the Plaza. He paid no
+heed to our presence, and his face was expressionless as he passed us.
+
+"Stupid as his own burro, and not nearly so handsome," Beverly
+commented.
+
+The boy turned quietly and stared at my cousin, who had not meant to be
+overheard. Nobody could read the meaning of that look, for his face was
+as impenetrable as the adobe walls of the Palace of the Governors.
+
+"Bev, you are laying up trouble. An Indian never forgets, and you'll be
+finding that fellow under your pillow every night till he gets your
+scalp," Rex Krane declared, as we went on our way.
+
+Beverly laughed and stiffened his sturdy young arms.
+
+"He's welcome to it if he can get it," he said, carelessly. "How many
+million miles do we go to-day, Mr. Krane?"
+
+"Yonder is your terminal," Rex replied, pointing to a little settlement
+of mud huts huddling together along the trail. "They call that little
+metropolis Agua Fria--'pure water'--because there ain't no water there.
+It's the last place to look for anybody. That's why we look there. You
+will go in like gentlemen, though--and don't be surprised nor make any
+great noise over anything you see there. If a riot starts I'll do the
+startin'."
+
+Carelessly as this was said, we understood the command behind it.
+
+Near the village, I happened to glance back over the way we had come,
+and there, striding in, soft-footed as a cat behind us, was that young
+Indian. I turned again just as we reached the first straggling houses at
+the outskirts of the settlement, but he had disappeared.
+
+It was a strange little village, this Agua Fria. Its squat dwellings,
+with impenetrable adobe walls, had sat out there on the sandy edge of
+the dry Santa Fe River through many and many a lagging decade; a single
+trail hardly more than a cart-width across ran through it. A church,
+mud-walled and ancient, rose above the low houses, but of order or
+uniformity of outline there was none. Hands long gone to dust had shaped
+those crude dwellings on this sunny plain where only man decays, though
+what he builds endures.
+
+Nobody was in sight and there was something awesome in the very silence
+everywhere. Rex lounged carelessly along, as one who had no particular
+aim in view and was likely to turn back at any moment. But Beverly and I
+stared hard in every direction.
+
+At the end of the village two tiny mud huts, separated from each other
+by a mere crack of space, encroached on this narrow way even a trifle
+more than the neighboring huts. As we were passing these a soft Hopi
+voice called:
+
+"Beverly! Beverly!" And Little Blue Flower, peeping shyly out from the
+narrow opening, lifted a warning hand.
+
+"The church! The church!" she repeated, softly, then darted out of
+sight, as if the brown wall were but thick brown vapor into which she
+melted.
+
+"Why, it's our own little girl!" Beverly exclaimed, with a smile, just
+as Little Blue Flower turned away, but I am sure she caught his words
+and saw his smile.
+
+We would have called to her, but Rex Krane evidently did not hear her,
+for he neither halted nor turned his head. So, remembering our command
+to be quiet, we passed on.
+
+"I guess we are about to the end of this 'pure water' resort. It's
+gettin' late. Let's go back home now," our leader said, dispiritedly. So
+we turned back toward Santa Fe.
+
+At the narrow opening where we had seen Little Blue Flower the young
+Indian boy stood upright and motionless, and again he gave no sign of
+seeing us.
+
+"Let's just run over to that church a minute while we are here. Looks
+interestin' over there," Rex suggested.
+
+I wondered if he could have heard Little Blue Flower, and thought her
+suggestion was a good one, or if this was a mere whim of his.
+
+The church, a crude mission structure, stood some distance from the
+trail. As we entered a priest came forward to meet us.
+
+"Can I serve you?" he asked.
+
+The voice was clear and sweet--the same voice that we had heard out
+beyond the arroyo southeast of town, the same face, too, that we had
+seen, with the big dark eyes full of fire. Involuntarily I recalled how
+his hand had pointed to the west when he had pronounced a blessing that
+day.
+
+"Thank you, Father--" Rex began.
+
+"Josef," the holy man said.
+
+"Yes, thank you, Father Josef. We are just looking at things. No wish to
+be rude, you know."
+
+Rex lifted his cap and stood bareheaded in the priestly presence.
+
+Father Josef smiled.
+
+"Look here, then."
+
+He led us up the aisle to where, cuddled down on a crude seat, a little
+girl lay asleep. Her golden hair fell like a cloud about her face,
+flowing over the edge of the seat almost to the floor. Her cheeks were
+pink and warm, and her dimpled white hands were clasped together. I had
+caught Mat Nivers napping many a time, but never in my life had I seen
+anything half so sweet as this sleeping girl in the beauty of her
+innocence. And I knew at a glance that this was the same girl whom I had
+seen before at the door of the old Church of San Miguel.
+
+"Same as grown-ups when the sermon is dull. Thank you, Father Josef.
+It's a pretty picture. We must be goin' now." Rex Krane dropped some
+silver in the priest's hand and we left the church.
+
+At the door we passed the Indian boy again, and a third time he gave no
+sign of seeing us. I was the only one who was troubled, however, for Rex
+and Beverly did not seem to notice him. As we left the village I caught
+sight of him again following behind us.
+
+"Look there, Bev," I said, in a low voice. Beverly glanced back, then
+turned and stared defiantly at the boy.
+
+"Maybe Rex knows about Indians," he said, lightly. "That's three times I
+found him fooling around in less than an hour, but my scalp is still
+hanging over one ear."
+
+He pushed back his cap and pulled at his bright brown locks. Happy Bev!
+How headstrong, brave, and care-free he walked the plains that day.
+
+The evening shadows were lengthening and the peaks of the
+Sangre-de-Christo range were taking on the scarlet stains of sunset when
+we raced into town at last. Rex Krane went at once to find Uncle Esmond,
+and Beverly and I hurried to the hotel to tell Mat of all that we had
+seen.
+
+Her gray eyes were glowing when she met us at the door and led us into a
+corner where we could talk by ourselves.
+
+"Uncle Esmond has sold everything to that Mexican merchant, Felix
+Narveo, and we are going to start home just as soon as he can find that
+little girl."
+
+"Oh, we've found her! We've found her!" Beverly burst out. But Mat
+hushed him at once.
+
+"Don't yell it to the sides, Beverly Clarenden. Now listen!" Mat dropped
+her voice almost to a whisper. "He's going to take that little girl back
+with us as far as Fort Leavenworth, and then send her on to St. Louis
+where she has some folks, I guess."
+
+"Isn't he a clipper, though," Beverly exclaimed.
+
+"But what if the Indians should get us?" I asked, anxiously. "I heard
+the colonel at Fort Leavenworth just give it to Uncle Esmond one night
+for bringing us."
+
+"You are safe or you are not safe everywhere. And if we got in here I
+reckon we can get out," Mat reasoned, philosophically. "And Uncle Esmond
+isn't afraid and he's set on doing it. We aren't going to take any goods
+back, so we can travel lots faster, and everything will be put in the
+wagons so we can grab out what's worth most in a hurry if we have to."
+
+So we talked matters over now as we had done on that April day out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. But now we knew something of what
+might be before us on that homeward journey. Thrilling hours those were.
+It is no wonder that, schooled by their events, young as we were, we put
+away childish things.
+
+That night while we slept things happened of which we knew nothing for
+many years. There was no moon and the glaring yellow daytime plain was
+full of gray-edged shadows, under the far stars of a midnight blue sky,
+as Esmond Clarenden took the same trail that we had followed in the
+afternoon. On to the village of Agua Fria, black and silent, he rode
+until he came to the church door. Here he dismounted, and, quickly
+securing his horse, he entered the building. The chill midnight wind
+swept in through the open door behind him, threatening to blot out the
+flickering candles about the altar. Father Josef came slowly down the
+aisle to meet him, while a tall man, crouching like a beast about to
+spring, rather than a penitent at prayer, shrank down in the shadowy
+corner inside the doorway.
+
+The merchant, solid and square-built and fearless, stood before the
+young priest baring his head as he spoke.
+
+"I come on a grave errand, good Father. This afternoon my two nephews
+and a young man from New England came in here and saw a child asleep
+under protection of this holy sanctuary. That child's name is Eloise St.
+Vrain. I had hoped to find her mother able to care for her. She--cannot
+do it, as you know. I must do it for her now. I come here to claim what
+it is my duty to protect."
+
+At these words the crouching figure sprang up and Ferdinand Ramero, his
+steel-blue eyes blazing, came forward with cat-like softness. But the
+sturdy little man before the priest stood, hat in hand, undisturbed by
+any presence there.
+
+"Father Josef," the tall man began, in a voice of menace, "you will not
+protect this American here. I have confessed to you and you know that
+this man is my enemy. He comes, a traitor to his own country and a spy
+to ours. He has risked the lives of three children by bringing them
+across the plains. He comes alone where large wagon-trains dare not
+venture. He could not go back to the States now. And lastly, good
+Father, he has no right to the child that he claims is here."
+
+"To the child that is here, asleep beside our sacred altar," Father
+Josef said, sternly.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned upon the priest fiercely.
+
+"Even the Church might go too far," he muttered, threateningly.
+
+"It might, but it never has," the holy man agreed. Then turning to
+Esmond Clarenden, he continued: "You must see that these charges do not
+stand against you. Our Holy Church offers no protection, outside of
+these four walls, to a traitor or a spy or even an unpatriotic
+speculator seeking to profit by the needs of war. Nor could it sanction
+giving the guardianship of a child to one who daringly imperils his own
+life or the lives of children, nor can it sanction any rights of
+guardianship unless due cause be given for granting them."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero smiled as the priest concluded. He was a handsome man,
+with the sort of compelling magnetism that gives controlling power to
+its possessor. But because I knew my uncle so well in after years, I can
+picture Esmond Clarenden as he stood that night before the young priest
+in the little mud-walled church of Agua Fria. And I can picture the
+tall, threatening man in the shadows beside him. But never have I held
+an image of him showing a sign of fear.
+
+"Father Josef, I am willing to make any explanation to you. As for this
+man whom you call Ramero here--up in the States he bears another name
+and I finished with him there six years ago--I have no time nor breath
+to waste on him. Are these your demands?" my uncle asked.
+
+"They are," Father Josef replied.
+
+"Do I take away the little girl, Eloise, unmolested, if you are
+satisfied?" Esmond Clarenden demanded, first making sure of his bargain,
+like the merchant he was.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero stiffened insolently at these words, and looked
+threateningly at Father Josef.
+
+"You do," the holy man replied, something of the flashing light in his
+eyes alone revealing what sort of a soldier the State had lost when this
+man took on churchly orders.
+
+"I am no traitor to my flag, since my full commerical purpose was
+known and sanctioned by the military authority at Fort Leavenworth
+before I left there. I brought no aid to my country's enemy because my
+full cargo was bargained for by your merchant, Felix Narveo, before the
+declaration of war was made. I merely acted as his agent bringing his
+own to him. I have come here as a spy only in this--that I shall profit
+in strictly legitimate business by the knowledge I hold of commercial
+conditions and my acquaintance with your citizens when this war for
+territory ends, no matter how its results may run. I deal in wholesome
+trade, not in human hate. I offer value for value, not blood for blood."
+
+Up to this time a smile had lighted the merchant's eyes. But now his
+voice lowered, and the lines about his mouth hardened.
+
+"As to the guardianship of children, Father Josef, I am a bachelor who
+for nearly nine years have given a home, education, support, and
+affection to three orphan children, until, though young in years, they
+are wise and capable. So zealous was I for their welfare, that when word
+came to me--no matter how--that a company of Mexicans were on their way
+to Independence, Missouri, ostensibly to seek the protection of the
+United States Government and to settle on the frontier there, but really
+to seize these children in my absence, and carry them into the heart of
+old Mexico, I decided at once that they would be safer with me in New
+Mexico than without me in Missouri.
+
+"In the night I passed this Mexican gang at Council Grove, waiting to
+seize me in the morning. At Pawnee Rock a storm scattered a band of
+Kiowa Indians to whom these same Mexicans had given a little Indian
+slave girl as a reward for attacking our train if the Mexicans should
+fail to get us themselves. Through every peril that threatens that long
+trail we came safely because the hand of the Lord preserved us."
+
+Esmond Clarenden paused, and the priest bowed a moment in prayer.
+
+"If I have dared fate in this journey," the merchant went on, "it was
+not to be foolhardy, nor for mere money gains, but to keep my own with
+me, and to rescue the daughter of Mary St. Vrain, of Santa Fe, and take
+her to a place of safety. It was her mother's last pleading call, as
+you, Father Josef, very well know, since you yourself heard her last
+words and closed her dead eyes. Under the New Mexican law, the
+guardianship of her property rests with others. Mine is the right to
+protect her and, by the God of heaven, I mean to do it!"
+
+Esmond Clarenden's voice was deep and powerful now, filling the old
+church with its vehemence.
+
+Up by the altar, the little girl sat up suddenly and looked about her,
+terrified by the dim light and the strange faces there.
+
+"Don't be afraid, Eloise."
+
+How strangely changed was this gentle tone from the vehement voice of a
+moment ago.
+
+The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no child
+ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held Beverly and me
+in loving obedience all the days of our lives with him.
+
+Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the girl
+reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm protectingly
+about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with tears; the head with its
+sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned against him for a moment. Then the
+fighting spirit came back to her, so early in her young life had the
+need for defending herself been forced upon her.
+
+"Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded.
+
+"You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly.
+
+"And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good! Let's go
+now!"
+
+She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at Esmond
+Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open door.
+
+"Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this good
+man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your mother would
+want you to be." His musical voice was full of pathos.
+
+Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the aisle.
+
+"I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand
+between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from her
+face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek.
+
+Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned hastily
+toward the altar.
+
+"Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp, bitter
+voice filling the church.
+
+"By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so long as
+you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them you reckon with
+me."
+
+Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing gesture.
+
+"I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for that
+sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would have been safe
+here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as long as you choose in
+the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot outside these walls and I say
+again you reckon with me."
+
+His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and his
+charge clinging to his arm.
+
+"Set but a foot outside these walls and _you_ will reckon with _me_."
+
+It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up suddenly
+behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.
+
+"You meant to hide in the old Church of San Miguel because it is so near
+to the home where you have kept this little girl. But Gail Clarenden
+blocked your game and found your house and this child in the church door
+before our wagon-train had reached the end of the trail. You found this
+church your nearest refuge, meaning to leave it again early in the
+morning. I have waited here for you all day, protected by the same means
+that brought word to Santa Fe this morning. Come out now if you wish.
+You dare not follow me to the States, but I dare to come to your land.
+Can you meet me here?" Jondo was handsome in his sunny moods. In his
+anger he was splendid.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero dropped to a seat beside Father Josef.
+
+"I have told you I cannot face that man. I will stay here now," he said,
+in a low voice to the priest. "But I do not stay here always, and I can
+send where I do not follow," he added, defiantly.
+
+Esmond Clarenden was already on his horse with his little charge, snugly
+wrapped, in his arms.
+
+Father Josef at the portal lifted his hand in sign of blessing.
+
+"Peace be with you. Do not tarry long," he said. Then, turning to Jondo,
+he gazed into the strong, handsome face. "Go in peace. He will not
+follow. But forget not to love even your enemies."
+
+In the midnight dimness Jondo's bright smile glowed with all its
+courageous sweetness.
+
+"I finished that fight long ago," he said. "I come only to help others."
+
+Long these two, priest and plainsman, stood there with clasped hands,
+the gray night mists of the Santa Fe Valley round about them and all the
+far stars of the midnight sky gleaming above them.
+
+Then Jondo mounted his horse and rode away up the trail toward Santa Fe.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE WILDERNESS CROSSROADS
+
+
+  I will even make a way in the wilderness.
+                              --ISAIAH.
+
+
+Bent's fort stood alone in the wide wastes of the upper Arkansas valley.
+From the Atlantic to the Pacific shores there was in America no more
+isolated spot holding a man's home. Out on the north bank of the
+Arkansas, in a grassy river bottom, with rolling treeless plains
+rippling away on every hand, it reared its high yellow walls in solitary
+defiance, mute token of the white man's conquering hand in a savage
+wilderness. It was a great rectangle built of adobe brick with walls six
+feet through at the base, sloping to only a third of that width at the
+top, eighteen feet from the ground. Round bastions, thirty feet high, at
+two diagonal corners, gave outlook and defense. Immense wooden doors
+guarded a wide gateway looking eastward down the Arkansas River. The
+interior arrangement was after the Mexican custom of building, with
+rooms along the outer walls all opening into a big _patio_, or open
+court. A cross-wall separated this court from the large corral inside
+the outer walls at the rear. A portal, or porch, roofed with thatch on
+cedar poles, ran around the entire inner rectangle, sheltering the rooms
+somewhat from the glare of the white-washed court. A little world in
+itself was this Bent's Fort, a self-dependent community in the solitary
+places. The presiding genius of this community was William Bent, whose
+name is graven hard and deep in the annals of the eastern slopes of the
+Rocky Mountain country in the earlier decades of the nineteenth century.
+
+Hither in the middle '40's the wild trails of the West converged:
+northward, from the trading-posts of Bent and St. Vrain on the Platte;
+south, over the Raton Pass from Taos and Santa Fe; westward, from the
+fur-bearing plateaus of the Rockies, where trappers and traders brought
+their precious piles of pelts down the Arkansas; and eastward, half a
+thousand miles from the Missouri River frontier--the pathways of a
+restless, roving people crossed each other here. And it was toward this
+wilderness crossroads that Esmond Clarenden directed his course in that
+summertime of my boyhood years.
+
+The heat of a July sun beat pitilessly down on the scorching plains. The
+weary trail stretched endlessly on toward a somewhere in the yellow
+distance that meant shelter and safety. Spiral gusts of air gathering
+out of the low hills to the southeast picked up great cones of dust and
+whirled them zigzagging across the brown barren face of the land. Every
+draw was bone dry; even the greener growths along their sheltered
+sides, where the last moisture hides itself, wore a sickly sallow hue.
+
+Under the burden of this sun-glare, and through these stifling
+dust-cones, our little company struggled sturdily forward.
+
+We had left Santa Fe as suddenly and daringly as we had entered it, the
+very impossibility of risking such a journey again being our, greatest
+safeguard. Esmond Clarenden was doing the thing that couldn't be done,
+and doing it quickly.
+
+In the gray dawn after that midnight ride to Agua Fria a little Indian
+girl had slipped like a brown shadow across the Plaza. Stopping at the
+door of the Exchange Hotel, she leaned against the low slab of petrified
+wood that for many a year served as a loafer's roost before the hotel
+doorway. Inside the building Jondo caught the clear twitter of a bird's
+song at daybreak, twice repeated. A pause, and then it came again,
+fainter this time, as if the bird were fluttering away through the Plaza
+treetops.
+
+In that pause, the gate in the wall had opened softly, and Aunty Boone's
+sharp eyes peered through the crack. The girl caught one glimpse of the
+black face, then, dropping a tiny leather bag beside the stone, she sped
+away.
+
+A tall young Indian boy, prone on the ground behind a pile of refuse in
+the shadowy Plaza, lifted his head in time to see the girl glide along
+the portal of the Palace of the Governors and disappear at the corner of
+the structure. Then he rose and followed her with silent moccasined
+feet.
+
+And Jondo, who had hurried to the hotel door, saw only the lithe form of
+an Indian boy across the Plaza. Then his eye fell on the slender bag
+beside the stone slab. It held a tiny scrap of paper, bearing a message:
+
+_Take long trail QUICK. Mexicans follow far_. Trust bearer anywhere.
+JOSEF.
+
+An hour later we were on our way toward the open prairies and the Stars
+and Stripes afloat above Fort Leavenworth.
+
+In the wagon beside Mat Nivers was the little girl whose face had been
+clear in the mystic vision of my day-dreams on the April morning when I
+had gone out to watch for the big fish on the sand-bars; the morning
+when I had felt the first heart-throb of desire for the trail and the
+open plains whereon my life-story would later be written.
+
+We carried no merchandise now. Everything bent toward speed and safety.
+Our ponies and mules were all fresh ones--secured for this journey two
+hours after we had come into Santa Fe--save for the big sturdy dun
+creature that Uncle Esmond, out of pure sentiment, allowed to trail
+along behind the wagons toward his native heath in the Missouri bottoms.
+
+We had crossed the Gloriettas and climbed over the Raton Pass rapidly,
+and now we were nearing the upper Arkansas, where the old trail turns
+east for its long stretch across the prairies.
+
+As far as the eye could see there was no living thing save our own
+company in all the desolate plain aquiver with heat and ashy dry. The
+line of low yellow bluffs to the southeast hardly cast a shadow save for
+a darker dun tint here and there.
+
+At midday we drooped to a brief rest beside the sun-baked trail.
+
+"You all jus' one color," Aunty Boone declared. "You all like the dus'
+you made of 'cep' Little Lees an' me. She's white and I'm black. Nothin'
+else makes a pin streak on the face of the earth."
+
+Aunty Boone flourished on deserts and her black face glistened in the
+sunlight. Deep in the shadow of the wagon cover the face of Eloise St.
+Vrain--"Little Lees," Aunty Boone had named her--bloomed pink as a wild
+rose in its frame of soft hair. She had become Aunty Boone's meat and
+drink from the moment the strange African woman first saw her. This
+regard, never expressed in caress nor word of tenderness, showed itself
+in warding from the little girl every wind of heaven that might visit
+her too roughly. Not that Eloise gave up easily. Her fighting spirit
+made her rebel against weariness and the hardships of trail life new to
+her. She fitted into our ways marvelously well, demanding equal rights,
+but no favors. By some gentle appeal, hardly put into words, we knew
+that Uncle Esmond did not want us to talk to her about herself. And
+Beverly and Mat and I, however much we might speculate among ourselves,
+never thought of resisting his wishes.
+
+Eloise was gracious with Mat, but evidently the boy Marcos had made her
+wary of all boys. She paid no attention to Beverly and me at first. All
+her pretty smiles and laughing words were for Uncle Esmond and Jondo.
+And she was lovely. Never in all these long and varied years have I seen
+another child with such a richness of coloring, nor such a mass of
+golden hair rippling around her forehead and falling in big, soft curls
+about her neck. Her dark eyes with their long black lashes gave to her
+face its picturesque beauty, and her plump, dimpled arms and sturdy
+little form bespoke the wholesome promise of future years.
+
+But the life of the trail was not meant for such as she, and I know now
+that the assurance of having saved her from some greater misfortune
+alone comforted Uncle Esmond and Jondo in this journey. For Aunty Boone
+was right when she declared, "They tote together always."
+
+As we grouped together under that shelterless glare, getting what
+comfort we could out of the brief rest, Jondo sprang up suddenly, his
+eyes aglow with excitement.
+
+"What's the matter? Because if it isn't, this is one hot day to pretend
+like it is," Rex Krane asserted.
+
+He was lying on the hot earth beside the trail, his hat pulled over his
+face. Beverly and Bill Banney were staring dejectedly across the
+landscape, seeing nothing. I sat looking off toward the east, wondering
+what lay behind those dun bluffs in the distance.
+
+"Something is wrong back yonder," Jondo declared, making a half-circle
+with his hand toward the trail behind us.
+
+My heart seemed to stop mid-beat with a kind of fear I had never known
+before. Aunty Boone had always been her own defender. Mat Nivers had
+cared for me so much that I never doubted her bigger power. It was for
+Eloise, Aunty Boone's "Little Lees," that my fear leaped up.
+
+I can close my eyes to-day and see again the desolate land banded by the
+broad white trail. I can see the dusty wagons and our tired mules with
+drooping heads. I can see the earnest, anxious faces of Esmond Clarenden
+and Jondo; Beverly and Bill Banney hardly grasping Jondo's meaning; Rex
+Krane, half asleep on the edge of the trail. I can see Mat Nivers, brown
+and strong, and Aunty Boone oozing sweat at every pore. But these are
+only the setting for that little girl on the wagon-seat with white face
+and big dark eyes, under the curl-shadowed forehead.
+
+Jondo stared hard toward the hills in the southeast. Then he turned to
+my uncle with grim face and burning eyes; His was a wonderful voice,
+clear, strong and penetrating. But in danger he always spoke in a low
+tone.
+
+"I've watched those dust-whirls for an hour. The wind isn't making all
+of them. Somebody is stirring them up for cover. Every whirl has an
+Indian in it. It's all of ten miles to Bent's. We must fight them off
+and let the others run for it, before they cut us off in front. Look at
+that!"
+
+The exclamation burst from the plainsman's lips.
+
+That was my last straight looking. The rest is ever a kaleidoscope of
+action thrilled through with terror. What I saw was a swiftly moving
+black splotch coming out of the hills, with huge dust-heaps flying here
+and there before it. Then a yellow cloud spiral blinded our sight as a
+gust of hot wind swept round us. I remember Jondo's stern face and
+blazing eyes and his words:
+
+"Mexicans behind the Indians!"
+
+And Uncle Esmond's voice:
+
+"Narveo said they would get us, but I hoped we had outrun them."
+
+The far plains seemed spotted with Indians racing toward us, and coming
+at an angle from the southeast a dozen Mexicans swept in to cut us off
+from the trail in front.
+
+I remember a quick snatching of precious things in boxes placed for such
+a moment as this, a quick snapping of halter ropes around the ponies'
+necks, a gleaming of gun-barrels in the hot sunlight; a solid cloud of
+dust rolling up behind us, bigger and nearer every second; and the
+urgent voice of Jondo: "Ride for your lives!"
+
+And the race began. On the trail somewhere before us was Bent's Fort. We
+could only hope to reach it soon. We did not even look behind as we tore
+down that dusty wilderness way.
+
+At the first motion Aunty Boone had seized Eloise St. Vrain with one
+hand and the big dun mule's neck-strap with the other.
+
+"Go to the devil, you tigers and cannibals!" She roared with the growl
+of a desert lioness, shaking her big black fist at the band of Mexicans
+pouring out of the hills.
+
+And dun mule and black woman and white-faced, terror-stricken child
+became only a dust-cloud far in front of us. Mat and Beverly and I
+leaped to the ponies and followed the lead of the African woman. Nearest
+to us was Rex Krane, always a shield for the younger and less able. And
+behind him, as defense for the rear and protection for the van, came
+Esmond Clarenden and Bill Banney, with Jondo nearest the enemy, where
+danger was greatest.
+
+I tell it calmly, but I lived it in a blind whirl. The swift hoof-beat,
+the wild Indian yells, the whirl of arrows and whiz of bullets, the
+onrush to outrun the Mexicans who were trying to cut us off from the
+trail in front. Lived it! I lived ages in it. And then an arrow cut my
+pony's flank, making him lurch from the trail, a false step, the pony
+staggering, falling. A sharp pain in my shoulder, the smell of fire, a
+shriek from demon throats, the glaring sunlight on the rocking plain,
+searing my eyes in a mad whirlpool of blinding light, the fading
+sounds--and then--all was black and still.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When I opened my eyes again I was lying on a cot. Bare adobe walls were
+around me, and a high plastered roof resting on cedar poles sheltered
+that awful glare from my eyes. Through the open door I could see the
+rain falling on the bare ground of the court, filling the shallow places
+with puddles.
+
+I tried to lift myself to see more as shrieks of childish laughter
+caught my ear, but there was a sickish heat in my dry skin, an evil
+taste in my throat, and a sharp pain in my left shoulder; and I fell
+back again.
+
+Another shriek, and Eloise St. Vrain came before my doorway, pattering
+with bare white feet out into the center of the _patio_ puddles and
+laughing at the dashing summer shower. Her damp hair, twisted into a
+knot on top of her head, was curling tightly about her temples and neck,
+her eyes were shining; her wet clothes slapping at her bare white
+knees--a picture of the delicious happiness of childhood. A little child
+of three or four years was toddling after her. He was brown as a berry,
+and at first I thought he was a little Indian. I could hear Mat and
+Beverly splashing about safe and joyous somewhere, and I forgot my fever
+and pain and the dread of that awful glare coming again to sear my
+burning eyeballs as I watched and listened. A louder shriek as the
+little child ran behind Eloise and gave her a vigorous shove for one so
+small.
+
+"Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you've done," Mat cried; and then Beverly
+was picking up "Little Lees," sprawling, all mud-smeared and happy, in
+the very middle of the court.
+
+The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a wicked
+mischief, but he said not a word.
+
+Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a cot
+beyond mine. An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me. I stared
+back at him and neither of us spoke. His head was bandaged and his cheek
+was swollen, but with my memory for faces, even Indian faces, I knew him
+at once for the boy who had followed us into Agua Fria and out of it
+again.
+
+Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at me.
+
+"Are you awake?" Eloise asked.
+
+Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and Beverly
+and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious. They gave no heed to the
+Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep. Once, however, I caught him
+watching Beverly, and his eyes were like dagger points.
+
+"We are having the best times. You must get well right away, because we
+are going to stay." They all began to clatter, noisily.
+
+Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped suddenly.
+
+"Clear out of here, you magpies," he commanded, and they scuttled away
+into the warm rain and the puddles again.
+
+"Do you want anything, Gail?" Rex asked, bending over me.
+
+I drew his head down with my right arm.
+
+"I want that Indian out of here," I whispered.
+
+"Out he goes," Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew it the
+boy was taken away. When we were alone the tall young man sat down
+beside me.
+
+"You want to ask me a million questions. I'll answer 'em to save you
+the trouble," he began, in his comfortable way.
+
+"You are wounded in your shoulder. Slight, bullet, that's Mexican; deep,
+arrow, that's Indian. But you are here and pretty much alive and you
+will be well soon."
+
+"And Uncle Esmond? Jondo? Bill?" I began, lifting myself up on my well
+arm.
+
+"Keep quiet. I'll answer faster. Everybody all right. Clarenden and
+Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a military
+escort permits."
+
+I dropped down again.
+
+"The U.S. Army, en route for perdition, via Santa Fe, is camping in the
+big timbers down-stream now. Jondo and Esmond Clarenden will leave you
+boys and girls here till it's safe to take you out again. And I and
+Daniel Boone, vestal god and goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep
+you from harm till that time. Bill's joining the army for sure now, and
+our happy family life is ended as far as the Santa Fe Trail is
+concerned. I'm a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell
+me."
+
+"Tell me about this." I pointed to my shoulder.
+
+"All in good time. It was a nasty mess of fish. A dozen Mexicans and as
+many Indians had followed us all the way from the sunny side of the
+Gloriettas. You and Bev and Mat had got by the Mexics. Daniel Boone and
+'Little Lees' were climbing the North Pole by that time. The rest of us
+were giving battle straight from the shoulder; and someway, I don't know
+how, just as we had the gang beat back behind us--you had a sniff of a
+bullet just then--an Indian slipped ahead in the dust. I was tendin' to
+mite of an arrow wound in my right calf, and I just caught him in time,
+aimin' at Bev; but he missed him for you. I got him, though, and clubbed
+his scalp a bit loose."
+
+Rex paused and stared at his right leg.
+
+"How did that boy get here, Rex? Is he a friendly Indian?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Jondo brought him in out of the wet. Says the child was made to
+come along, and as soon as he could get away from the gang he had to run
+with up here; he came right into camp to help us against them. Fine
+young fellow! Jondo has it from them in authority that we can trust him
+lyin' or tellin' the truth. _He's all right._"
+
+"How did he get hurt?" I inquired, still remembering in my own mind the
+day at Agua Fria.
+
+"He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it happened,"
+Rex replied.
+
+"Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up with
+the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily.
+
+"At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?"
+
+"I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that way. He's
+got faith in that redskin and he's going to see that he gets back to New
+Mexico safely--after while."
+
+"Rex, that's the same boy that was down in Agua Fria, the one Bev
+laughed at. He's no good Indian," I declared.
+
+"You are too wise, Gail Clarenden," Rex drawled, carelessly. "A boy of
+your brains had ought to be born in Boston. Jondo and I can't agree
+about him. His name, he says, is Santan. There's one 'n' too many. If
+you knock off the last one it makes him Santa--'holy'; but if you knock
+out the middle it's Satan. We don't knock out the same 'n', Jondo and
+me."
+
+Just then the little child came tumbling noisily into the room.
+
+"Look here, youngun. You can't be makin' a racket here," Rex said.
+
+The boy stared at him, impudently.
+
+"I will, too," he declared, sullenly, kicking at my cot with all his
+might.
+
+Rex made no reply but, seizing the child around the waist, he carried
+him kicking and screaming outside.
+
+"You stay out or I'll spank you!" Rex said, dropping him to the ground.
+
+The boy looked up with blazing eyes, but said nothing.
+
+"That's little Charlie Bent. His daddy runs this splendid fort. His
+mother is a Cheyenne squaw, and he's a grim clinger of a half-breed.
+Some day he'll be a terror on these plains. It's in him, I know. But
+that won't interfere with us any. And you children are a lot safer here
+than out on the trail. Great God! I wonder we ever got you here!" Rex's
+face was very grave. "Now go to sleep and wake up well. No more thinkin'
+like a man. You can be a child again for a while."
+
+Those were happy days that followed. Safe behind the strong walls of old
+Fort Bent, we children had not a care; and with the stress and strain of
+the trail life lifted from our young minds, we rebounded into happy
+childhood living. Every day offered a new drama to our wonder-loving
+eyes. We watched the big hide-press for making buffalo robes and furs
+into snug bales. We climbed to the cupola of the headquarters department
+and saw the soldiers marching by on their way to New Mexico. We saw the
+Ute and the Red River Comanche come filing in on their summer
+expeditions from the mountains. We saw the trade lines from the far
+north bearing down to this wilderness crossroads with their early fall
+stock for barter.
+
+Our playground was the court off which all the rooms opened. And however
+wild and boisterous the scenes inside those walls in that summer of
+1846, in four young lives no touch of evil took root. Stronger than the
+six-feet width of wall, higher than the eighteen feet of adobe brick
+guarding us round about, was the stern strength of the young Boston man
+interned in the fort to protect us from within, as the strength of that
+structure defended us from without.
+
+And yet he might have failed sometimes, had it not been for Aunty Boone.
+Nobody trifled with her.
+
+"You let them children be. An give 'em the run of this shack," she
+commanded of the lesser powers whose business was to domineer over the
+daily life there. "The man that makes trouble wide as a needle is across
+is goin' to meet me an' the Judgment Day the same minute."
+
+"When Daniel gets on her crack-o'-doom voice, the mountains goin' to
+skip like rams and the little hills like lambs, an' the Army of the West
+won't be necessary to protect the frontier," Rex declared. But he knew
+her worth to his cause, and he welcomed it.
+
+And so with her brute force and his moral strength we were unconsciously
+intrenched in a safety zone in this far-isolated place.
+
+With neither Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in our
+remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we needed. For
+with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in which a child's
+day may be harried unless the child asserts himself. We had the years of
+children but the sturdy defiance of youth. So we were happy within our
+own little group, and we paid little heed to the things that nobody else
+could forestall for us.
+
+Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child of the
+proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered into all of our
+sports with a quickness and perseverance and wilfulness that was
+thoroughly American. He took defeat of his wishes, and the equal measure
+of justice and punishment, with the silent doggedness of an Indian; and
+on the edge of babyhood he showed a spirit of revenge and malice that
+we, in our rollicking, affectionate lives, with all our teasing and
+sense of humor, could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and
+ignored his imperious demands.
+
+Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending him in
+everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if we would
+submit to the making, which we seldom did.
+
+And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican masters
+for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's shrewdness, never to
+let us out of his sight. But he gave us no opportunity to approach him.
+He lived in his own world, which was a savage one, but he managed that
+it should overlap our world and silently grasp all that was in it.
+Beverly had persistently tried to be friendly for a time, for that was
+Beverly's way. Failing to do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for
+all time.
+
+"We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly told the
+Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good Indians like her.
+She's one clipper."
+
+Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and made no
+reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly from that
+moment.
+
+The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in a
+corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season and the
+night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the open space,
+edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver. There was much noise
+and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room where the heads of affairs
+played together. Rex Krane had gone to bed early. Out by the rear gate
+leading to the fort corral, Aunty Boone was crooning a weird African
+melody. Crouching in the deep shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the
+Indian boy, Santan, listened to all that was said.
+
+To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength of the
+military guard who should keep us safe along the way. Then, as children
+will, we began to speculate on what should follow for us.
+
+"When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill and me.
+We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the trail. I'm going
+back to Santa Fe and kill that boy that stared at me like he was crazy
+one day at Agua Fria."
+
+In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to us as
+Beverly ran on flippantly:
+
+"I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the Bents
+do, and live happily ever after."
+
+"I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time," Mat
+Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what this long
+journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.
+
+"I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said, meditatively. "He
+won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook back the curly tresses,
+gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and squeezed my hand as she sat beside
+me.
+
+"What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.
+
+"I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from home," I
+declared.
+
+"Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos cuss's nose
+if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as Aunty Boone would say,"
+Beverly broke in.
+
+I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I would
+have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we talked together
+as boys do, in the confidences they never give to anybody else.
+
+A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept down
+inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises inside the
+billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors except ours were
+closed. Santan had crept between us and the two open doorways leading to
+our rooms. What if he should slip inside. A snake would have seemed
+better to me.
+
+A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I held it
+tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not speak nor move.
+Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and everything had grown weird
+and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of some wild thing of the night
+plains outside crept to our ears, making us shiver.
+
+"When the stars go to sleep an' the moon pulls up the gray covers, it's
+time to shut your eyes an' forget." Aunty Boone's soft voice broke the
+spell comfortingly for us. "Any crawlin' thing that gits in my way now,
+goin' to be stepped on."
+
+At the low hissing sound of the last sentence there was a swift
+scrambling along the shadows of the porch, and a door near the kitchen
+snapped shut. The big shining face of the African woman glistened above
+us and the court was flooded again with the moon's silvery radiance. As
+we all sprang up to rush for our rooms, "Little Lees" pulled me toward
+her and gently kissed my cheek.
+
+"You never would let Marcos in if he came to Fort Leavenworth, would
+you?" she whispered.
+
+"I'd break his head clear off first," I whispered back, and then we
+scampered away.
+
+That night I dreamed again of the level plains and Uncle Esmond and
+misty mountain peaks, but the dark eyes were not there, though I watched
+long for them.
+
+The next day we left Fort Bent, and when I passed that way again it was
+a great mass of yellow mounds, with a piece of broken wall standing
+desolately here and there, a wreck of the past in a solitary land.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+BUILDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN THE MOON OF THE PEACH BLOSSOM
+
+
+  Love took me softly by the hand,
+    Love led me all the country o'er,
+  And showed me beauty in the land,
+    That I had never seen before.
+                       --ANONYMOUS.
+
+
+You might not be able to find the house to-day, nor the high bluff
+whereon it stood. So many changes have been wrought in half a century
+that what was green headland and wooded valley in the far '50's may be
+but a deep cut or a big fill for a new roadway or factory site to-day.
+So diligently has Kansas City fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+"every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be
+made low."
+
+Where the great stream bends to the east, the rugged heights about its
+elbow, Aunty Boone, in those days, was wont to declare, did not offer
+enough level ground to set a hen on. Small reason was there then to hope
+that a city, great and gracious, would one day cover those rough ravines
+and grace those slopes and hilltops in the angle between the Missouri
+and the Kaw.
+
+Aunty Boone had resented leaving Fort Leavenworth when the Clarenden
+business made the young city at the Kaw's mouth more desirable for a
+home. But Esmond Clarenden foresaw that a military post, when the
+protection it offers is no longer needed, will not, in itself, be a
+city-builder. The war had brought New Mexico into United States
+territory; railroads were slowly creeping westward toward the
+Mississippi River; steamboats and big covered wagons were bringing
+settlers into Kansas, where little cabins were beginning to mark the
+landscape with new hearth-stones. Congress was wrangling over the great
+slavery question. The Eastern lawmakers were stupidly opposing the
+efforts of Missouri statesmen to extend mail routes westward, or to
+spend any energy toward developing that so-called worthless region which
+they named "the great American desert." And the old Santa Fe Trail was
+now more than ever the highway for the commerical treasures of the
+Rocky Mountains and the great Southwest.
+
+It was the time of budding things. In the valley of the Missouri the
+black elm boughs, the silvery sycamores and cottonwoods, and the vines
+on the gray rock-faced cliffs were veiled in shimmering draperies of
+green, with here and there a little group of orchard trees faintly pink
+against the landscape's dainty verdure.
+
+Beverly Clarenden and I stood on the deck of a river steamer as it made
+the wharf at old Westport Landing, where Esmond Clarenden waited for us.
+And long before the steamer's final bump against the pier we had noted
+the tall, slender girl standing beside him. We had been away three
+years, the only schooling outside of Uncle Esmond's teaching we were
+ever to have. We were big boys now, greatly conscious of hands and feet
+in our way, "razor broke," Aunty Boone declared, brimful of hilarity and
+love of adventure, and eager for the plains life, and the dangers of the
+old trail by which we were to conquer or be conquered. In the society of
+women we were timid and ill at ease. Aside from this we were
+self-conceited, for we knew more of the world and felt ourselves more
+important on that spring morning than we ever presumed to know or dared
+to feel in all the years that followed.
+
+"Who is she, Gail, that tall one by little fat Uncle Esmond?" Beverly
+questioned, as we neared the wharf.
+
+"You don't reckon he's married, Bev? He's all of twenty-four or five
+years older than we are, and we aren't calves any more." I replied,
+scanning the group on the wharf.
+
+But we forgot the girl in our eagerness to bound down the gang-plank and
+hug the man who meant all that home and love could mean to us. In our
+three growing years we had almost eliminated Mat Nivers, save as a happy
+memory, for mails were slow in those days and we were poor
+letter-writers; and we had wondered how to meet her properly now. But
+when the tall, slender girl on the wharf came forward and we looked into
+the wide gray eyes of our old-time playmate whom, as little boys, we
+had both vowed to marry, we forgot everything in our overwhelming love
+for our comrade-in-arms, our jolliest friend and counselor.
+
+"Oh, Mat, you miserable thing!" Beverly bubbled, hugging her in his
+arms.
+
+"You are just bigger and sweeter than ever. I mistook you for Aunty
+Boone at first," I chimed in, kissing her on each cheek. And we all
+bundled away in an old-fashioned, low-swung carriage, happy as children
+again, with no barrier between us and the dear playmate of the past.
+
+The new home, on the high crest overlooking the Missouri valley, nestled
+deep in the shade of maple and elm trees, a mansion, compared to that
+log house of blessed memory at Fort Leavenworth. A winding road led up
+the steep slope from a wooded ravine where a trail ran out from the
+little city by the river's edge. Vistas of sheer cliff and stretches of
+the muddy on-sweeping Missouri and the full-bosomed Kaw, with scrubby
+timbered ravines and growing groves of forest trees, offered themselves
+at every turn. And from the top of the bluff the world unrolled in a
+panorama of nature's own shaping and coloring.
+
+The house was built of stone, with vines climbing about its thick walls,
+and broad veranda. And everywhere Mat's hands had put homey touches of
+comfort and beauty. An hundredfold did she return to Esmond Clarenden
+all the care and protection he had given to her in her orphaned
+childhood. And, after all, it was not military outposts, nor railroads,
+nor mail-lines alone that pushed back the wilderness frontier. It was
+the hand of woman that also builded empire westward.
+
+"Mat's got her wish at last," I said, as we sat with Uncle Esmond after
+dinner under a big maple tree and looked out at the far yellow Missouri,
+churning its spring floods to foam against the snags along its
+high-water bound.
+
+"What's Mat's wish?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"To have a good home and _stay there_. She wished that one night, years
+ago back in old Fort Bent. Don't you remember, Bev, when we were out in
+the court, and how scared blue we all were when the moon went under a
+cloud, and that Indian boy, Santan, was creeping between us and the home
+base?"
+
+"No, I don't remember anything except that we were in Fort Bent. Got in
+by the width of a hair ahead of some Mexicans and Indians, and got out
+again after a jolly six weeks. What's the real job for us now, Uncle
+Esmond?"
+
+Uncle Esmond was staring out toward the Kaw valley, rimmed by high
+bluffs in the distance.
+
+"I don't know about Mat having her wish," he said, thoughtfully, "but
+never mind. Trade is booming and I'm needing help on the trail this
+spring. Jondo starts west in two weeks."
+
+Beverly and I sprang up. Six feet of height, muscular, adventure-loving,
+fearless, we had been made to order for the Santa Fe Trail. And if I was
+still a dreamer and caught sometimes the finer side of ideals, where
+Beverly Clarenden saw only the matter-of-fact, visible things, no
+shrewder, braver, truer plainsman ever walked the long distances of the
+old Santa Fe Trail than this boy with his bright face and happy-go-lucky
+spirit unpained by dreams, untrammeled by fancies.
+
+"Two weeks! We are ready to start right after supper," we declared.
+
+"Oh, I have other matters first," Uncle Esmond said. "Beverly, you must
+go up to Fort Leavenworth and arrange a lot of things with Banney for
+this trip. He's to go, too, because military escort is short this
+season."
+
+"Suits me!" Beverly declared. "Old Bill Banney and I always could get
+along together. And this infant here?"
+
+"I'm going to send Gail down to the Catholic Mission, in Kansas. You
+remember little Eloise St. Vrain, of course?" Uncle Esmond asked.
+
+"We do!" Beverly assured him. "Pretty as a doll, gritty as a sand-bar,
+snappy as a lobster's claw--she dwells within my memory yet."
+
+All girls were little children to us, for the scheme of things had not
+included them in our affairs.
+
+I threw a handful of grass in the boy's face, and Uncle Esmond went on.
+
+"She's been at St. Ann's School at the Osage Mission down on the Neosho
+River for two or three years, and now she is going to St. Louis. In
+these troublesome times on the border, if I have a personal interest, I
+feel safer if some big six-footer whom I can trust comes along as an
+escort from the Neosho to the Missouri," Uncle Esmond explained.
+
+And then we spoke of other things: the stream of emigration flowing into
+the country, the possibilities of the prairies, the future of the city
+that should hold the key to the whole Southwest, and especially of the
+chance and value of the trail trade.
+
+"It's the big artery that carries the nation's life-blood here," Esmond
+Clarenden declared. "Some day when the West is full of people, and
+dowered with prosperity, it may remember the men who built the highway
+for the feet of trade to run in. And the West may yet measure its
+greatness somewhat by the honesty and faithfulness of the merchant of
+the frontier, and more by the courage and persistence of the boys who
+drove the ox-teams across the plains. Don't forget that you yourselves
+are State-builders now."
+
+He spoke earnestly, but his words meant little to me. I was looking out
+toward the wide-sweeping Kaw and thinking of the journey I must make,
+and wondering if I should ever feel at ease in the society of women.
+Wondering, too, what I should say, and how I should really take care of
+"Little Lees," who had crossed the plains with us almost a decade ago;
+the girl who had held my hand tightly one night at old Fort Bent when
+the shadow had slipped across the moon and filled the silvery court with
+a gray, ghostly light.
+
+That night the old heart-hunger of childhood came back to me, the
+visions of the day-dreaming little boy that were almost forgotten in the
+years that had brought me to young manhood. And clearly again, as when I
+heard Uncle Esmond's voice that night on the tableland above the valley
+of the Santa Fe, I heard his gentle words:
+
+"Sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must fight for, and
+even die for, that those who come after us may be the better for our
+having them."
+
+But these thoughts passed with the night, and in my youth and
+inexperience I took on a spirit of fatherly importance as I went down to
+St. Ann's to safeguard a little girl on her way through the Kansas
+territory to the Missouri River.
+
+It had been a beautiful day, and there was a freshness in the soft
+evening breeze, and an up-springing sweetness from the prairies. A
+shower had passed that way an hour before, and the spirit of growing
+things seemed to fill the air with a voiceless music.
+
+Just at sunset the stage from the north put me down in front of St.
+Ann's Academy in the little Osage Mission village on the Neosho.
+
+A tall nun, with commanding figure and dignified bearing, left the
+church steps across the road and came slowly toward me.
+
+"I am looking for Mother Bridget, the head of this school," I said,
+lifting my hat.
+
+"I am Mother Bridget." The voice was low and firm. One could not imagine
+disobedience under her rule.
+
+"I come from Mr. Esmond Clarenden, to act as escort for a little girl,
+Eloise St. Vrain, who is to leave here on the stage for Kansas City
+to-morrow," I hesitatingly offered my letter of introduction, which
+told all that I had tried to say, and more.
+
+The woman's calm face was gentle, with the protective gentleness of the
+stone that will not fail you when you lean on it. One felt sure of
+Mother Bridget, as one feels sure of the solid rock to build upon. She
+looked at me with keen, half-quizzical eyes. Then she said, quietly:
+
+"You will find the little girl down by Flat Rock Creek. The Indian girl,
+Po-a-be, is with her. There may be several Indian girls down there, but
+Po-a-be is alone with little Eloise."
+
+I bowed and turned away, conscious that, with this good nun's sincerity,
+she was smiling at me back of her eyes somehow.
+
+As I followed the way leading to the creek I passed a group or two of
+Indian girls--St. Ann's, under the Loretto Sisterhood, was fundamentally
+a mission school for these--and a trio of young ladies, pretty and
+coquettish, with daring, mischievous eyes, whose glances made me flush
+hot to the back of my neck as I stumbled by them on my way to the
+stream.
+
+The last sun rays were glistening on the placid waters of the Flat Rock,
+and all the world was softly green, touched with a golden glamour. I
+paused by a group of bushes to let the spell of the hour have its way
+with me. I have always loved the beautiful things of earth; as much now
+as in my childhood days, when I felt ashamed to let my love be known; as
+now I dare to tell it only on paper, and not to that dear, great circle
+of men and women who know me best to-day.
+
+The sound of footsteps and the murmur of soft voices fitted into the
+sweetness of that evening hour as two girls, one of them an Indian, came
+slowly down a well-worn path from the fields above the Flat Rock Valley.
+They did not see me as they sat down on some broad stones beside the
+stream.
+
+I started forward to make myself known, but caught myself mid-step, for
+here was a picture to make any man pause.
+
+The Indian girl facing me was Little Blue Flower, the Kiowas' captive,
+whom we had rescued at Pawnee Rock. Her heavy black hair was coiled low
+on her neck, a headband of fine silverwork with pink coral pendants was
+bound about her forehead and gleaming against her jetty hair. With her
+well-poised head, her pure Indian features, her lustrous dark eyes, her
+smooth brown skin, her cheeks like the heart of those black-red roses
+that grow only in richest soil--surely there was no finer type of that
+vanishing race in all the Indian pueblos of the Southwest. But the girl
+beside her! Was it really so many years ago that I stood by the bushes
+on the Flat Rock's edge and saw that which I see so clearly now? Then
+these years have been gracious indeed to me. The sun's level beams fell
+on the masses of golden waves that swept in soft little ripples back
+from the white brow to a coil of gold on the white neck, held, like the
+Indian girl's, with a headband of wrought silver, and goldveined
+turquoise; it fell on the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the
+cheek, the red lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their
+fringe of long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the
+curves of the white throat and the round white arms. Only a master's
+hand could make you see these two, beautiful in their sharp contrast of
+deep brown and scarlet against the dainty white and gold.
+
+"Oh, Little Blue Flower, it will not make me change."
+
+I caught the words as I stepped toward the two, and the Indian's soft,
+mournful answer:
+
+"But you are Miss St. Vrain now. You go away in the morning--and I love
+you always."
+
+The heart in me stopped just when all its flood had reached my face.
+
+"Miss St. Vrain," I repeated, aloud.
+
+The two sprang up. That afternoon they had been dressed for a girls'
+frolic in some Grecian fashion. I cannot tell a Watteau pleat from
+window-curtain. I am only a man, and I do not name draperies well. But
+these two standing before me were gowned exactly alike, and yet I know
+that one was purely and artistically Greek, and one was purely and
+gracefully Indian.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am Mr. Clarenden," I managed to say.
+
+At the name Little Blue Flower's eyes looked as they did on that hot May
+night out at Pawnee Rock when she heard Beverly Clarenden's boyish voice
+ring out, defiantly:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+But the great light that had leaped into the girl's eyes died slowly out
+as she gazed at me.
+
+"You are not Beverly Clarenden," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"No, I'm Gail, the little one. Bev is up at Fort Leavenworth now," I
+replied.
+
+She turned away without a word and, gathering her draperies about her,
+sped up the pathway toward the fields above the creek.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And we two were alone together--the dark-eyed girl of my boyhood vision,
+deep-shrined in the boy-heart's holy of holies, and I who had waited for
+her coming. It was the hour of golden sunset and long twilight afterglow
+on the glistening Flat Rock waters and the green prairies beyond the
+Neosho.
+
+A sudden awakening came over me, and in one swift instant I understood
+my boyhood dreams and hopes and visions.
+
+"You will pardon me for coming so abruptly, Miss St. Vrain," I said.
+"Mother Bridget told me I would find you here."
+
+The girl listened to my stumbling words with eyes full of laughter.
+
+"Don't call me Miss St. Vrain, please. Let me be Eloise, and I can call
+you Gail. Even with your height and your broad shoulders you haven't
+changed much. And in all these years I was always thinking of you
+growing up just as you are. Let's sit down and get acquainted again."
+
+She offered me her hand and we sat down together. I could not speak
+then, for one sentence was ringing in my ears--"I was always thinking of
+you." In those years when Beverly and I had put away all thoughts of
+sweethearts--they could not be a part of the plainsman's life before
+us--sweethearts such as older boys in school boasted about, "she was
+always thinking of me." The thought brought a keen hurt as if I had done
+her some great wrong, and it held me back from words.
+
+She could not interpret my silence, and a look of timidity crept over
+her young face.
+
+"I didn't mean to be so--so bold with a stranger," she began.
+
+"You aren't bold, and we aren't strangers. I was just too stupid to
+think anybody else could get out of childhood except old Bev Clarenden
+and myself," I managed to say at last. "I even forgot Mat Nivers, who is
+a young lady now, and Aunty Boone, who hasn't changed a kink of her
+woolly hair. But we couldn't be strangers. Not after that trip across
+the plains and living at old Fort Bent as we did."
+
+I paused, and the memory of that last night at the fort made me steal a
+glance at Eloise to see if she, too, remembered.
+
+She was fair to see just then, with the pink clouds mirrored on the
+placid waters reflected in the pink of her cheeks.
+
+"Do you remember what I called you the first time I saw you?" She
+looked up with shining eyes.
+
+"You called me a big brown bob-cat, and you said I looked like I'd slept
+in the Hondo 'royo all my life. I know I looked it, too. I'll forgive
+you if you will excuse my blunder to-day. What became of that boy,
+Marcos? Have you ever seen him since you left Santa Fe?" I asked.
+
+The fair face clouded, and a look of longing crept into the big, dark
+eyes lifted pleadingly a moment to mine. I wanted to take her in my arms
+right then and look about for something to kill for her sake. Yet I
+would not, for the gold of all the Mexicos, have touched the hem of her
+Grecian robe.
+
+"Yes, I have seen Marcos many times. His father went to old Mexico after
+the war, but the Rameros do not stay long anywhere. Marcos made life
+miserable for me sometimes." She paused suddenly.
+
+"The Rameros. Then he was the son of the man who was my uncle's enemy.
+Maybe you did as much for him, too, sometimes. You had the spirit to do
+it, anyhow," I said, lightly, to hide my real feeling.
+
+"I was a little cat. I'm a lot better now. Let's not go too much into
+that time. Tell me where you have been and where you are going." Eloise
+changed the subject easily.
+
+"I've been in Cincinnati, attending a boys' school for three years. I
+start for Santa Fe in two weeks. My uncle's store is doing a big over
+land business, and he keeps the ox-teams just fanning one another,
+coming and going across the prairies. I'm crazy to go and see the open
+plains again. Cincinnati is a city on stilts, and our little
+Independence-Westport Landing-Kansas City place, as the Cincinnati of
+the great American desert, is also pretty bumpy, the last place on earth
+to put a town--only we can see almost to Santa Fe, New Mexico, from the
+hilltops. Won't it be great to view that mud-walled town again? Bev is
+going, too--to kill a few Indians for our winter's meat, he says, in his
+wicked, blood-thirsty way." So I ran on, glad to be alive in the
+delicious beauty of that spring evening as we together went back over
+the days of our young years.
+
+"Gail, may we take another passenger to-morrow?" Eloise asked, suddenly.
+
+"Why, as many as the stage will hold! There's to be a nun and a priest
+and yourself. I'm chaperon. I could take the priest on my lap if he
+isn't too bulky," I answered.
+
+"I want to take Po-a-be. I can't tell you why now."
+
+The lashes dropped over the brown eyes, and I wondered how she could
+think that I could refuse her anything.
+
+"Oh, we'll take her on faith and the stage-coach. She can come right to
+Castle Clarenden and stay till she gets ready to hurdle off to her own
+'wickie up'. She has grown into a beautiful Indian woman, though I
+couldn't call her a squaw."
+
+"She isn't a squaw. I'm glad to hear you say that. I think it will make
+her very happy to stay at your home for a while. She will miss me a
+little when we leave here, maybe," Eloise said, looking at me with a
+grateful smile that sent a tingle to my fingertips.
+
+"Won't you stay, too?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this beautiful
+girl might slip away as easily as she had come into my life here.
+
+Eloise laughed at my earnestness.
+
+"I couldn't stay long," she said, lightly.
+
+"And why not?" I burst in, eagerly. "What have you in Santa Fe?"
+
+"A little money and a lot of memories," she replied, seriously.
+
+"Oh, I can bring the money up to Kansas for you in an ox-train easily
+enough, and you could blow up the old mud-box of a town and not hurt a
+hair on the head of a single memory. You know you can take them anywhere
+you go. I do mine."
+
+"I'm going to St. Louis, anyhow," Eloise returned, "and you have no
+sacred memories--boys don't care for things like girls do."
+
+"They don't? They don't? And I have forgotten the little girl who was
+afraid one moonlit night out in the court at Fort Bent and asked me that
+I shouldn't ever let Marcos pull her hair. Yes, boys forget."
+
+I laid my hand on her arm and bent forward to look into her face. For
+just one flash those big dark eyes looked straight at me, with something
+in their depths that I shall never forget.
+
+Then she moved lightly from me.
+
+"Oh, all children remember, I suppose. I do, anyhow--a thousand things
+I'd like to forget. It is lovely by the river. Suppose we go down there
+for a little while. I must not stay out here too long."
+
+I took her arm and we strolled down the quiet path in the twilight
+sweetness to where the broad Neosho, brim full from the spring rains,
+swept on between picturesque banks. The afterglow of sunset was flaming
+gorgeously above the western prairies, and the mists along the Neosho
+were lavender and mother-of-pearl. And before all this had deepened to
+purple darkness the full moon would swing up the sky, swathing the earth
+with a softened radiance. All the beauty of this warm spring night
+seemed but a setting for this girl in her graceful Greek draperies, with
+the waving gold of her hair and her dainty pink-and-white coloring.
+
+A new heaven and a new earth had begun for me, and a delicious longing,
+clean and sweet, that swept every commoner feeling far away. What matter
+that the life before me be filled with danger, and all the coarse and
+cruel things of the hard days of the Santa Fe Trail? In that hour I knew
+the best of life that a young man can know. Its benediction after all
+these years of change is on me still. Awhile we watched the flashing
+ripples on the river, and the sky's darkening afterglow. Then we turned
+to the moonlit east.
+
+"Do you know what the people of Hopi-land call this month?" Eloise
+asked.
+
+"I don't know Hopi words for what is beautiful," I replied.
+
+"They call it 'the Moon of the Peach Blossom', and they cherish the time
+in their calendar."
+
+"Then we will be Hopi people," I declared, "for it was in their Moon of
+the Peach Blossom that you grew up for me from the little girl who
+called me a bob-cat down in the doorway of the old San Miguel Church in
+Santa Fe, and from Aunty Boone's 'Little Lees' at old Fort Bent, to the
+Eloise of St. Ann's by the Kansas Neosho."
+
+The sound of a sweet-toned bell told us that we must not stay longer,
+and together we followed the path from the Flat Rock up to the academy
+door. And all the way was like the ways of Paradise to me, for I was in
+the peach-blossom moon of my own life.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE HANDS THAT CLING
+
+
+    The hands that take
+  No weight from your sad cross, oh, lighter far
+  It were but for the burden that they bring!
+  God only knows what hind'ring things they are--
+    The hands that cling.
+                      --ESTHER M. CLARK
+
+
+The next morning three of us waited in the stage before the door of St.
+Ann's Academy. A thin-faced nun, who was called Sister Anita, sat beside
+Eloise St. Vrain, her snowy head-dress, with her black veil and somber
+garments, contrasting sharply with the silver-gray hat and traveling
+costume of her companion. Hints of pink-satin linings to coat-collar and
+pocket-flaps, and the pink facing of the broad hat-brim, seemed borrowed
+from the silver and pink of misty morning skies, with the golden hair
+catching the glint of all the early sunbeams. There was a tenderness in
+the bright face, the sadness which parting puts temporarily into young
+countenances. The girl looked lovingly at the church, and St. Ann's, and
+the green fields reaching up to the edge of the mission premises.
+
+As we waited, Mother Bridget and Little Blue Flower came slowly out of
+the academy door. The good mother's arm was around the Indian girl, and
+her eyes filled with tears as she looked down affectionately at the dark
+face.
+
+Little Blue Flower, true to her heritage, gave no sign of grief save for
+the burning light in her big, dry eyes. She listened silently to Mother
+Bridget's parting words of advice and submitted without response to the
+embrace and gentle good-by kiss on her brown forehead.
+
+The good woman gazed into my face with penetrating eyes, as if to
+measure my trustworthiness.
+
+"You will see that no harm comes to my little Po-a-be. The wolves of the
+forest are not the only danger for the unprotected lambs," she said,
+earnestly.
+
+"I'll do my best, Mother Bridget," I responded, feeling a swelling pride
+in my double charge.
+
+Mother Bridget patted Eloise's hand and turned away. She loved all of
+her girls, but her heart went out most to the Indian maidens whom she
+led toward her civilization and her sacred creed.
+
+As she turned away, the priest who was to go with us came out of the
+church door to the stage.
+
+Little Blue Flower sat with the other two women, facing us, her
+dark-green dress with her rich coloring making as strong a contrast as
+the nun's black robe against the pink-touched silver-gray gown. And the
+Indian face, strong, impenetrable, with a faintly feminine softening of
+the racial features, and the luminous black eyes, gave setting to the
+pure Saxon type of her companion.
+
+I turned from the three to greet the priest and give him a place beside
+me. His face seemed familiar, but it was not until I heard his voice, in
+a courteous good-morning, that I knew him to be the Father Josef who had
+met us on the way into Santa Fe years before, and who later had shown us
+the little golden-haired girl asleep on the hard bench in the old
+mission church of Agua Fria. A page of my boyhood seemed suddenly to
+have opened there, and I wondered curiously at the meaning of it all.
+Life, that for three years had been something of a monotonous round of
+action for a boy of the frontier, was suddenly filling each day with
+events worth while. I wondered many things concerning Father Josef's
+presence there, but I had the grace to ask no questions as we five
+journeyed over the rolling green prairies of Kansas in the pleasant time
+of year which the Hopi calls the Moon of the Peach Blossom.
+
+The priest appeared hardly a day older than when I had first seen him,
+and he chatted genially as we rode along.
+
+"We are losing two of our stars," he said, with a gallant little bow.
+"Miss St. Vrain goes to St. Louis to relatives, I believe, and Little
+Blue Flower, eventually, to New Mexico. St. Ann's under Mother Bridget
+is doing a wonderful work among our people, but it is not often that a
+girl comes here from such a distance as New Mexico."
+
+I tried to fancy what the Indian girl's thoughts might be as the priest
+said this, but her face, as usual, gave no clue to her mind's activity.
+
+Where the Santa Fe Trail crossed the Wakarusa Father Josef left us to
+join a wagon-train going west. Sister Anita, who was hurrying back to
+Kentucky, she said, on some churchly errand, took a steamer at Westport
+Landing, and the three of us came to the Clarenden home on the crest of
+the bluff.
+
+We had washed off our travel stains and come out on the veranda when we
+saw Beverly Clarenden standing in the sunlight, waiting for us. I had
+never seen him look so handsome as he did that day, dressed in the full
+regalia of the plains: a fringed and beaded buckskin coat, dark
+pantaloons held inside of high-topped boots, a flannel shirt, with a
+broad black silk tie fastened in a big bow at his throat, and his
+wide-brimmed felt hat set back from his forehead. Clean-shaven, his
+bright brown hair--a trifle long, after the custom of the
+frontier--flung back from his brow, his blooming face wearing the happy
+smile of youth, his tall form easily erect, he seemed the very
+embodiment of that defiant power that swept the old Santa Fe Trail clean
+for the feet of its commerce to run swiftly along. I am glad that I
+never envied him--brother of my heart, who loved me so.
+
+He was not as surprised as I had been to find the grown-up girl instead
+of the little child. That wasn't Beverly's way.
+
+"I'm mighty glad to meet you again," he said, with jaunty air, grasping
+Eloise by the hand. "You look just as--shall I say promising, as ever."
+
+"I'm glad to see you, Beverly. You and Gail have been my biggest assets
+of memory these many years." Eloise was at ease with him in a moment.
+Somehow they never misunderstood each other.
+
+"Oh, I'm always an asset, but Gail here gets to be a liability if you
+let him stay around too long."
+
+"Here is somebody else. Don't you remember Little Blue Flower?" Eloise
+interrupted him.
+
+"Little Blue Flower! Why, I should say I do! And are you that little
+blossom?"
+
+Beverly's face beamed, and he caught the Indian girl's hand in both of
+his in a brotherly grasp. He wasn't to blame that nature had made him
+frank and unimaginative.
+
+"I haven't forgotten the last time I saw your face in a wide crack
+between two adobe shacks. A 'flower in the crannied wall' in that 'pure
+water' sand-pile in New Mexico. I'd have plucked you out of the cranny
+right then, if old Rex Krane hadn't given us our 'forward march!'
+orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high and sneaky as a cat, hadn't
+been lurking in the middle distance to pluck _me_ as a brand _for_ the
+burning. And now you are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How
+did you ever get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"
+
+Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but at the
+mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright face became
+expressionless.
+
+Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth the
+way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a visit.
+
+"We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on, gaily.
+"Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse packing
+merchandise for the Santa Fe trade. Even big black Aunty Boone, getting
+supper in there, is still a feature of this circus. If only that slim
+Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to
+be here soon, and if all goes well he will go with us to Santa Fe again.
+How about it, Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"
+
+But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below us. Her
+wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were pink with
+excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane striding up the hill,
+with the easy swing of vigorous health. No longer the slender, slouching
+young idol of my boyhood days, with Eastern cut of garment and
+devil-may-care dejection of manner, all hiding a loving tenderness for
+the unprotected, and a daring spirit that scorned danger.
+
+"It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
+tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace pipe."
+
+Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands he
+reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And he held
+them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful eyes.
+
+A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the trail
+in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always looked at Mat when
+he talked to all of us. And I used to think that he must have had a
+little sister like her. Now I knew in an instant why Mat could not meet
+his eyes to-day with that unconcern with which she met them when she was
+a child to me, and he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown
+up. I knew more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by
+the shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
+alive to every tint and odor and musical note for every other wayfarer
+therein.
+
+That was a glorious week that followed, and one to remember on the long
+trail days coming to us. I have no quarrel with the happy youth of
+to-day, but I feel no sense of loss nor spirit of envy when they tell
+me--all young people are my friends--when they tell me of golf-links and
+automobile rides, or even the daring hint of airplanes. To the heart of
+youth the gasolene-motor or the thrill of the air-craft to-day is no
+more than the Indian pony and the uncertain chance of the crude old
+canoe on the clear waters of the Big Blue when Kansas City was a village
+and the Kansas prairies were in their virgin glory.
+
+Bill Banney had come out of the Mexican War, no longer an adventure
+lover, but a seasoned frontiersman. His life knew few of the gentler
+touches. He gave it to the plains, where so many lives went, unhonored
+and unsung, into the building of an enduring empire.
+
+We would have included him in all the frolic of that wonderful week in
+the Moon of the Peach Blossom--but he gave us no opportunity to do so.
+And we were young, and the society of girls was a revelation to us. So
+with the carelessness of youth we forgot him. We forgot many things that
+week that, in Heaven's name, we had cause enough to remember in the
+years that followed after.
+
+"There's a theatrical troupe come up from St. Louis to play here
+to-night," Rex Krane announced, after supper. "Mat, will you let me take
+you down to see the villain get what's due all villains? Then if we have
+to kill off Gail and Bev, it will not be so awkward."
+
+"Can't we all go?" Mat suggested.
+
+"Never mind us, Lady Nivers. Little Blue Flower, may I have the pleasure
+of your company? I need protection to-night," Beverly said, with much
+ceremony.
+
+Little Blue Flower was sitting next to him, or it might not have begun
+that way.
+
+"Oh, say yes. He's no poorer company than that company of actors down
+town," Rex urged.
+
+The Indian girl assented with a smile.
+
+She did not smile often and when she did her eyes were full of light,
+and her red lips and perfect white teeth were beautiful enough for a
+queen to envy.
+
+"Little Lees, it seems you are doomed to depend on Gail or jump in the
+Kaw. I'd prefer the Kaw myself, but life is full of troubles. One more
+can be endured." Rex had turned to Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"Seems to me, having first choice, you might have been more considerate
+of my lot yourself," Eloise declared.
+
+"He was. He saved you from a worse fate when he chose Mat," I broke in.
+
+"May we have a song by the choir?" Beverly interrupted, and with his
+full bass voice he began to roar our some popular tune of that time.
+
+And it went on as it began, the rambles about the rugged bluffs and
+picturesque ravines, where to-day the hard-surfaced Cliff Drive makes a
+scenic highway through the beauty spots of a populous city; the daring
+canoe rides on the rivers; the gatherings of the young folk in the town;
+and the long twilight hours on the crest of the bluff overlooking the
+two great waterways. And as by the first selection, Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower were companions. Nobody could be unhappy with Bev, least of
+all the shy Indian girl with a face full of sunshine, now. And I? I
+walked a pathway strewn with rose petals because the golden-haired
+Little Lees was beside me. Each day was a frolic day for us, teasing one
+another and making a joke of life, and for the morrow we took no thought
+at all.
+
+One evening Eloise St. Vrain and I sat together on the bluff. It was the
+twilight hour, and all the far valley of the Kaw was full of iridescent
+misty lights, with gold-tipped clouds of pale lavender above, and the
+glistening silver of the river below. We could hear Beverly and Little
+Blue Flower laughing together in a big swing among the maples. Aunty
+Boone was crooning some African melodies in the bushes half-way down the
+slope. Rex and Mat had gone to the ravine below to meet Uncle Esmond.
+
+"Little Lees, the first time I ever saw you you were away out there in
+such a misty light as that, and I saw only your hair and your eyes then,
+but as clearly as I see them now."
+
+Eloise turned questioningly toward me, and the light in her dark eyes
+thrilled to the heart of me. In all her stay with us I had hardly spoken
+earnestly of anything before.
+
+"When was that Gail?" she asked, the frivolous spirit gone from her,
+too.
+
+"When I was a little boy, one day at Fort Leavenworth. And when I caught
+sight of you at the door of old San Miguel I knew you," I replied.
+
+The girl turned her face toward the west again and was silent. I felt my
+cheeks flush hotly. I had made her think I was only a dream-sick fool,
+when I had told her of the sacredest moment of my life, and I had for
+the minute foolishly felt that she might understand. How could I know
+that it was I who could not understand?
+
+At last she looked up with a smile as full of mischief as on that day
+when she had called me a big brown bob-cat.
+
+"You must have been having a nightmare in your sleep," she declared.
+
+"I think I was," I replied, testily. "Let me tell you something, Little
+Lees, something really important."
+
+"I don't believe you know one important thing," Eloise replied, "but
+I'll listen, and then if it is I'll tell you something more important."
+
+"I'm willing to hear it now. Tell me first," I replied, wondering the
+while how nature, that gives rough-hewn bearded faces to men, could make
+a face so daintily colored, in its youthful roundness, as hers.
+
+"I'm going to start to St. Louis day after to-morrow at six o'clock in
+the morning. Isn't that important?"
+
+Was there a real earnestness under the lightly spoken words, or did I
+imagine it so? If I had only made sure then--but I was young.
+
+"Important! It's a tragedy! I start west in three days, at eight o'clock
+in the morning," I said, carelessly.
+
+Sometimes the gray shadows fall on us when neither sunlight nor
+moonlight nor starlight is dimmed by any film of vapor. They fell on me
+then, and I shivered in my soul. How could I speak otherwise than
+carelessly and not show what must not be known? And how could the girl
+beside me know that I was speaking thus to keep down the shiver of that
+cold shadow? I suppose it must always be the same old story, year after
+year--
+
+     till the leaves of the judgment book unfold.
+
+"What was that important something you were going to tell me? What Mat
+told me last night when we were watching the moon rise?" Eloise asked.
+
+"That Rex and Mat are going to be married to-morrow evening at early
+candle-lighting--'early mosquito-biting,' Bev calls it. Rex has loved
+Mat since the day when he joined our little wagon-train out of a foolish
+sort of notion that he could protect us children, otherwise his life was
+useless to him. But something in his own boyhood made him pity all
+orphan children. I think it was through neglect in childhood he became
+an invalid at nineteen. He doesn't show the marks of it now."
+
+I paused and looked at the young girl beside me, whose eyes were like
+stars in the deepening gloom of the evening. It was delicious to have
+her look at me and listen to me. It was delicious to live in a rose-hued
+twilight, and I forgot the chill of that gray shadow lurking near.
+
+The next evening was entrancing with the soft air of spring, a night
+made purposely for brides. The wedding itself was simple in its
+appointments, as such events must needs be in the frontier years. All
+day we had worked to decorate the plain stone house, which the deftness
+of Little Blue Flower and the artistic touch of Little Lees turned into
+a spring bower, with trailing vines and blossoms everywhere.
+
+Mat's wedding-gown was neither new nor elaborate, for the affair had
+been too hastily decided on, but Eloise had made it bride-like by
+draping a filmy veil over Mat's bright brown hair, and Little Blue
+Flower had brought her long strands of turquoise beads, "old and
+borrowed and blue," to fulfil the needs of every bride.
+
+In the bridal party Beverly and I walked in front, followed by the two
+girls in the white Greek robes which they had worn at the school frolic
+at St. Ann's, and wearing their headbands, the one of silver and
+turquoise, the other of silver and coral. Then came Rex Krane and Bill
+Banney. Poor Bill! Nobody guessed that night that the bridal blossoms
+were flowers on the coffin of his dead hope. And last of all, Esmond
+Clarenden and Mat Nivers, with shining eyes, leaning on his arm. I had
+never seen Uncle Esmond in evening dress before, nor dreamed how
+splendid a figure he could make for a drawing-room in the costume in
+which he was so much at ease. But the handsomest man of all the large
+company gathered there that night was Jondo, big, broad-shouldered
+Jondo, his deep-blue eyes bright with joy for these two. And in the
+background was Aunty Boone, resplendent in a new red calico besprinkled
+with her favorite white dots, her head turbaned in a yellow silk
+bandana, and about her neck a strand of huge green glass beads. Her eyes
+glistened as she watched that night's events, and her comfortable
+ejaculations of approval were like the low purr of a satisfied cat. Then
+came the solemn pledges, the benediction and congratulations. There was
+merrymaking and singing, cake and unfermented wine of grapes for
+refreshing, and much good will that night.
+
+When the guests were gone and the lights, save one kitchen candle, were
+all out, I had slipped from the dining-room with the last burden of
+dishes, when I paused a minute beside the open kitchen window to let the
+midnight breeze cool my face.
+
+On the side porch, a little affair made to shelter the doorway, I saw
+Beverly Clarenden and Little Blue Flower. He was speaking gently, but
+with his blunt frankness, as he patted the two brown hands clinging to
+his arm. The Indian girl's white draperies were picturesque anywhere. In
+this dramatic setting they were startlingly beautiful, and her face,
+outlined in the dim light, was a thing rare to see. I could not hear her
+words, but her soft Hopi voice had a tender tone.
+
+I was waiting to let them pass in when I heard Beverly's voice, and I
+saw him bend over the little maiden, and, putting one arm around her, he
+drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. I knew it was a brother's
+sympathetic act--and all men know how dangerous a thing that is; that
+there are no ties binding brother to sister except the bonds of kindred
+blood. The girl slipped inside the dining-room door, and a minute later
+a candle flickered behind her bedroom window-blind in the gable of the
+house. I waited for Beverly to go, determined never to mention what I
+had seen, when I caught the clear low voice whose tones could make my
+pulse thresh in its walls.
+
+"Beverly, Beverly, it breaks my heart--" I lost the remainder of the
+sentence, but Beverly's words were clear and direct and full of a frank
+surprise.
+
+"Eloise, do you really care?"
+
+I turned away quickly that I might not hear any more. The rest of that
+night I sat wide awake and staring at the misty valley of the Kaw, where
+silvery ripples flashed up here and there against the shadowy sand-bars.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The steamboat for St. Louis left the Westport Landing wharf at six
+o'clock in the morning, before the mists had lifted over the big yellow
+Missouri. From our bluff I saw the smoke belch from its stacks as it
+pulled away and started down-stream; but only Uncle Esmond and Jondo
+waited to wave good-by to the sweet-faced girl looking back at them from
+its deck. Beverly had overslept, and Little Blue Flower had left an hour
+earlier with a wagon-train starting west toward Council Grove. In her
+room lay the white Grecian robe and the headband of wrought silver with
+coral pendants. On the little white pin-cushion on the dressing-table
+the bright pin-heads spelled out one Hopi word that carries all good
+will and blessing,
+
+LOLOMI.
+
+Twenty-four hours later Rex Krane left his bride, and he and Bill Banney
+and Beverly and I, under command of Jondo, started on our long trip
+overland to Santa Fe. And two of us carried some memories we hoped to
+lose when new scenes and certain perils should surround us.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+"OUR FRIENDS--THE ENEMY"
+
+
+  And you all know security
+  Is mortal's chiefest enemy.
+
+              SHAKESPEARE.
+
+
+In St. Louis and Kansas City men of Esmond Clarenden's type were sending
+out great caravans of goods and receiving return cargoes across the
+plains--pioneer trade-builders, uncrowned sovereigns of national
+expansion--against whose enduring power wars for conquest are as
+flashlight to daylight. And Beverly Clarenden and I, with the whole
+battalion of plainsmen--"bull-whackers," in the common parlance of the
+Santa Fe Trail--who drove those caravans to and fro, may also have been
+State-builders, as Uncle Esmond had declared we would be. Yet we hardly
+looked like makers of empire in those summer days when we followed the
+great wagon-trains along the prairies and over the mountain passes.
+
+Two of us had come home from school hilariously eager for the trail
+service. But the silent plains made men thoughtful and introspective.
+Days of endless level landscapes under wide-arching skies, and nights
+in the open beneath the everlasting silent stars, give a man time to get
+close to himself, to relive his childhood, to measure human values, to
+hear the voice in the storm-cloud and the song of low-purring winds, to
+harden against the monotonous glare of sunlight, to defy the burning
+heat, and to feel--aye, to feel the spell of crystal day-dawns and the
+sweetness of velvet-shadowed twilights. Beverly and I were typical
+plainsmen in that we never spoke of these things to each other--that is
+not the way of the plainsman.
+
+Our company had been organized at Council Grove--three trains of
+twenty-six wagons each, drawn by three or four spans of mules or yoke of
+oxen, guarded by eightscore of "bull-whackers." And there were a dozen
+or more ponies trained for swift riding in cases of emergency. There
+were also half a dozen private outfits under protection of the large
+body.
+
+The usual election before starting had made Jondo captain of the whole
+company. His was the controlling type of spirit that could have bent a
+battalion or swayed a Congress. For all the commanders and lawmakers of
+that day were not confined to the army and to Congress. Some of them
+escaped to the West and became sovereigns of service there. And Jondo
+had need for an intrepid spirit to rule that group of men, as that
+journey across the plains proved.
+
+On the day before we left Council Grove he was sitting with the heads of
+the other wagon-trains under a big oak-tree, perfecting final plans for
+the journey.
+
+"Gail, I want you to sign some papers here," he said. "It is the
+agreement for the trip among the three companies owning the trains."
+
+I read aloud the contract setting forth how one Jean Deau, representing
+Esmond Clarenden, of Kansas City, with Smith and Davis, representing two
+other companies from St. Louis, together agreed to certain conditions
+regarding the journey.
+
+Smith and Davis had already signed, and as I took the pen, a
+white-haired old trapper who was sitting near by burst out:
+
+"Jean Deau! Jean Deau! Who the devil is Jean Deau?"
+
+Jondo did not look up, but the lines hardened about his mouth.
+
+"It's a sound. Don't get in the way, old man. Go ahead, Clarenden,"
+Smith commanded.
+
+Few questions were asked in those days, for most men on the plains had a
+history, and it was what a man could do here, not what he had done
+somewhere else, that counted.
+
+So I, representing Esmond Clarenden, signed the paper and the two
+managers hurried away. But the old trapper sat staring at Jondo.
+
+"Say, I'm gittin' close to the end of the trail, and the divide ain't
+fur off for me. D'ye mind if I say somethin'?" he asked at last.
+
+Jondo looked up with that smile that could warm any man's heart.
+
+"Say on," he commanded, kindly.
+
+"You aint never signin' your own name nowhere, it sorter seems."
+
+Jondo shook his head.
+
+"Didn't you and this Clarenden outfit go through here 'bout ten years
+ago one night? Some Mexican greasers was raisin' hell and proppin' it up
+with a whisky-bottle that night, layin' fur you vicious."
+
+Jondo smiled and nodded assent.
+
+"Well, them fellers comin' in had a bargain with a passel of Kioways to
+git you plenty if they missed you themselves; to clinch their bargain
+they give 'em a pore little Hopi Injun girl they'd brung along with a
+lot of other Mexicans and squaws."
+
+"I had that figured out pretty well at the time," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"But, Jean Deau--" the old man began.
+
+"No, Jondo. Go on. I'm busy," Jondo interrupted.
+
+The old man's watery eyes gleamed.
+
+"I just want to say friendly-like, that them Kioways never forgot the
+trick you worked on 'em, an' the _tornydo_ that busted 'em at Pawnee
+Rock they laid to your bad medicine. They went clare back to Bent's Fort
+to fix you. Them and that rovin' bunch of Mexicans that scattered along
+the trail with 'em in time of the Mexican War. They'd 'a' lost you but
+fur a little Apache cuss they struck out there who showed 'em to you."
+
+Jondo looked up quickly now. Santan, Beverly's "Satan," whom our
+captain had defended, flashed to my mind, but I knew by Jondo's face
+that he did not believe the old trapper's story.
+
+"Them Kioways is still layin' fur you ever' year, I tell you, an'
+they're bound to git you sooner or later. I'm tellin' ye in kindness."
+
+The old man's voice weakened a little.
+
+"And I'm taking you in kindness," Jondo said. "You may be doing me a
+great service."
+
+"I shore am. Take my word an' keep awake. Keep awake!"
+
+In spite of his drink-bleared eyes and weakened frame, there was a hint
+of the commander in him, a mere shadow of the energy that had gone years
+ago into the wild, solitary life of the trapper who foreran the trail
+days here.
+
+"One more trip to the ha'nts of the fur-bearin' and it's good-by to the
+mountain trails and the river courses fur me," he said, as he rose and
+stalked unsteadily away, and--I never saw him again.
+
+At daybreak the next morning we were off for Santa Fe. Our wagons,
+loaded with their precious burdens, moved forward six abreast along the
+old sun-flower bordered trail. Morning, noon, and evening, pitching camp
+and breaking camp, yoking oxen and harnessing mules, keeping night vigil
+by shifts, hunting buffalo, killing rattlesnakes, watching for signs of
+hostile Indians, meeting incoming trains, or solitary trappers, at long
+intervals, breathing the sweet air of the prairies, and gathering rugged
+strength from sleep on the wholesome earth--these things, with the
+jolliest of fellowship and perfect discipline of our captain, Jondo,
+made this hard, free life of the plains a fascinating one. We were
+unshaven and brown as Indians. We lost every ounce of fat, but we were
+steel-sinewed, and fear, that wearing element that disintegrates the
+soul, dropped away from us early on the trail.
+
+But when the full moon came sweeping up the sky, and all the prairie
+shadows lay flat to earth under its surge of clear light, in the
+stillness of the great lonely land, then the battle with home-sickness
+was not the least of the plains' perils.
+
+One midnight watch of such a night, Jondo sat out my vigil with me. Our
+eighty or more wagons were drawn up in a rude ellipse with the stock
+corraled inside, for we were nearing the danger zone. And yet to-night
+danger seemed impossible in such a peaceful land under such clear
+moonlight.
+
+"Gail, you were always a far-seeing youngster, even in your cub days,"
+Jondo said, after we had sat silent for a long time. "We are moving into
+trouble from to-night, and I'll need you now."
+
+"What makes you think so, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"That train we met going east at noon."
+
+"Mexicans with silver and skins worth double our stuff, what have they
+to do with us?" I inquired.
+
+"One of the best men I have ever known is a Mexican in Santa Fe. The
+worst man I have ever known is an American there. But I've never yet
+trusted a Mexican when you bunch them together. They don't fit into
+American harness, and it will be a hundred years before the Mexican in
+our country will really love the Stars and Stripes. Deep down in his
+heart he will hate it."
+
+"I remember Felix Narveo and Ferdinand Ramero mighty well," I commented.
+
+Jondo stared at me.
+
+"Can't a boy remember things?" I inquired.
+
+"It takes a boy to remember; and they grow up and we forget they have
+had eyes, ears, feelings, memories, all keener than we can ever have in
+later years. Gail, the Mexican train comes from Felix Narveo, and Narveo
+is a man of a thousand. They bring word, however, that the Kiowas are
+unusually friendly and that we have nothing to fear this side of the
+Cimarron. They don't feel sure of the Utes and Apaches."
+
+"Good enough!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, only they lie when they say it. It's a trap to get us. No Kiowa on
+the plains will let a Clarenden train through peacefully, because we
+took their captive, Little Blue Flower. It's a hatred kept alive in the
+Kiowas by one man in Santa Fe through his Mexican agents with Narveo's
+train."
+
+"And that man is Ramero?" I questioned.
+
+"That man is Ramero, and his capacity for hate is appalling. Gail,
+there's only one thing in the world that is stronger than hate, and that
+is love."
+
+Jondo looked out over the moonlit plains, his fine head erect, even in
+his meditative moods.
+
+"When a Mexican says a Kiowa has turned friendly, don't believe him.
+And when a Kiowa says it himself--kill him. It's your only safe course,"
+Jondo said, presently.
+
+"Jondo, why does Ramero stir up the Indians and Mexicans against Uncle
+Esmond?" I asked.
+
+"Because Clarenden drove him into exile in New Mexico before it was
+United States territory," Jondo replied.
+
+"What did he do that for?" I asked.
+
+"Because of what Ramero had done to me," Jondo replied.
+
+"Well, New Mexico is United States territory now. What keeps this Ramero
+in Santa Fe, if he is there?"
+
+"I keep him there. It's safer to know just where a man like that is. So
+I put a ring around the town and left him inside of it."
+
+Jondo paused and turned toward me.
+
+"Yonder comes Banney to go on guard now. Gail, I'll tell you all about
+it some day. I couldn't on a night like this."
+
+The deep voice sent a shiver through me. There was a pathos in it, too
+manly for tears, too courageous for pity.
+
+The days that followed were hard ones. Word had gotten through the camp
+that the Indians were very friendly, and that we need not be uneasy this
+side of the Cimarron country. Smith and Davis agreed with the train
+captain, Jondo, in taking no chances, but most of the one hundred sixty
+bull-whackers stampeded like cattle against precaution, and rebelled at
+his rigid ruling. He had begun to tighten down upon us as we went
+farther and farther into the heart of a savage domain. The night guard
+was doubled and every precaution for the stock was demanded, giving
+added cause for grumbling and muttered threats which no man had the
+courage to speak openly to Jondo's face. I knew why he had said that he
+would need me. Bill Banney was always reliable, but growing more silent
+and unapproachable every day. Rex Krane's mind was on the girl-wife he
+had left in the stone house on the bluff above the Missouri. Beverly was
+too cock-sure of himself and too light-hearted, too eager for an Indian
+fight. Jondo could counsel with Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains,
+but only as a last resort would he dictate to them. So he turned to me.
+
+We were nearing Pawnee Rock, but as yet no hint of an Indian trail could
+we find anywhere. Advance-guards and rear-guards had no news to report
+when night came, and the sense of security grew hourly. The day had been
+very warm, but our nooning was shortened and we went into camp early.
+Everything had gone wrong that day: harness had broken; mules had grown
+fractious; a wagon had upset on a rough bit of the trail; half a dozen
+men, including Smith and Davis of the St. Louis trains, had fallen
+suddenly ill; drinking-water had been warm and muddy; and, most of all,
+the consciousness of wide-spread opposition to Jondo's strict ruling
+where there were no signs of danger made a very ugly-spirited group of
+men who sat down together to eat our evening meal. Bets were openly
+made that we wouldn't see a hostile redskin this side of Santa Fe.
+Covert sneers pointed many comments, and grim silence threatened more
+than everything else. Jondo's face was set, but there was a calmness
+about his words and actions, and even the most rebellious that night
+knew he was least afraid of any man among us.
+
+At midnight he wakened me. "I want you to help me, Gail," he said. "The
+Kiowas will gather for us at Pawnee Rock. They missed us there once
+because they were looking for a big train, and it was there we took
+their captive girl. The boys are ready to mutiny to-night. I count on
+you to stand by me."
+
+Stand by Jondo! In my helpless babyhood, my orphaned childhood, my
+sturdy growing years toward young manhood, Jondo had been father,
+mother, brother, playmate, guardian angel. I would have walked on
+red-hot coals for his sake.
+
+"I want you to slip away to-night, when Rex and Bev are on guard, and
+find out what's over that ridge to the north. Don't come back till you
+do find out. We'll get to Pawnee Rock to-morrow. I must know to-night.
+Can you do it? If you aren't back by sunrise, I'll follow your trail
+double quick."
+
+"I'll go," I replied, proud to show both my courage and my loyalty to my
+captain.
+
+The night was gray, with a dying moon in the west, and the north ridge
+loomed like a low black shadow against the sky. There was a weird
+chanting voice in the night wind, pouring endlessly across the open
+plains. And everywhere an eyeless, voiceless, motionless land, whereon
+my pony's hoof-beats were big and booming. Nature made my eyes and ears
+for the trail life, and matched my soul to its level spaces. To-night I
+was alert with that love of mastery that made me eager for this task. So
+I rode forward until our great camp was only a dull blot on the
+horizon-line, melting into mere nothingness as it grew farther away. And
+I was alone on the earth. God had taken out every other thing in it,
+save the sky over my head and the uneven short-grass sod under my feet.
+
+On I went, veering to the northwest from instinct that I should find my
+journey's end soonest that way. Over the divide which hid the wide
+valley of the Arkansas, and into the deep draws and low bluffs of a
+creek with billowy hills beyond, I found myself still instinctively
+_smelling_ my way. I grew more cautious with each step now, knowing that
+the chance for me to slip along unseen gave also the chance for an enemy
+to trail me unseen.
+
+At last I caught that low breathing sound that goes with the sense of
+nearness to life. Leaving my pony by the stream, I climbed to the top of
+a little swell, and softly as a cat walks on a carpet, I walked straight
+into an Indian camp. It was well chosen for outlook near, and security
+from afar. There was a growing light in the sky that follows the
+darkness of moonset and runs before the break of dawn. Everything in
+the camp was dead still. I saw evidences of war-paint and a recent
+war-dance that forerun an Indian attack. I estimated the strength of the
+enemy--possibly four hundred warriors, and noted the symbols of the
+Kiowa tribe. Then, thrilled with pride at my skill and success, I turned
+to retrace my way to my pony--and looked full into the face of an Indian
+brave standing motionless in my path. A breath--and two more braves
+evolved out of gray air, and the three stood stock-still before me. Out
+of the tail of my eye, I caught sight of a drawn bow on either side of
+me. I had learned quickness with firearms years ago, but I knew that two
+swift arrows would cut my life-line before the sound of my ready
+revolver could break the stillness of the camp. Three pairs of snaky
+black eyes looked steadily at me, and I stared back as directly into
+them. Two arrow-points gently touched my ears. Behind me, a tomahawk
+softly marked a ring around my scalp outside of my hat. I was standing
+in a circle of death. At last the brave directly before me slowly drew
+up his bow and pointed it at me; then dropping it, he snapped the arrow
+shaft and threw away the pieces. Pointing to my cocked revolver, he
+motioned to me to drop it. At the same time the bows and tomahawks, of
+the other warriors were thrown down. It was a silent game, and in spite
+of the danger I smiled as I put down my firearms.
+
+"Can't any of you talk?" I asked. "If you are friendly, why don't you
+say so?"
+
+The men did not speak, but by a gesture toward the tallest tepee--the
+chief's, I supposed--I understood that he alone would talk to me.
+
+"Well, bring him out." I surprised myself at my boldness. Yet no man
+knows in just what spirit he will face a peril.
+
+One of the braves ran to the chief's tent, but the remaining five left
+me no chance for escape. It was slowly growing lighter. I thought of
+Jondo and his search at sunrise, and the moments seemed like hours. Yet
+with marvelous swiftness and stillness a score of Indians with their
+chief were mounted, and I, with my pony in the center of a solid ring,
+was being hurried away, alive, with friendly captors daubed with
+war-paint.
+
+There was a growing light in the east, while the west was still dark. I
+thought of the earth as throwing back the gray shadowy covers from its
+morning face and piling them about its feet; I thought of some joke of
+Beverly's; and I wondered about one of the oxen that had seemed sick in
+the evening. I tried to think of nothing and a thousand things came into
+my mind. But of life and death and love and suffering, I thought not at
+all.
+
+Meantime, Jondo waited anxiously for my coming. Rex and Beverly had gone
+to sleep at the end of their watch and nobody else in camp knew of my
+going. At dawn a breeze began to swing in from the north, and with its
+refreshing touch the weariness and worries of yesterday were swept away.
+Everybody wakened in a good humor. But Jondo had not slept, and his
+face was sterner than ever as the duties of the day began.
+
+Before sunrise I began to be missed.
+
+"Where's Gail?" Bill Banney was the first to ask.
+
+"That's Clarenden's job, not mine," another of the bull-whackers
+resented a command of Jondo's.
+
+"Gail! Gail! Anybody on earth seen Gail Clarenden this morning?" came
+from a far corner of the camp.
+
+"Have you lost a man, Jondo?" Smith, still sick in his wagon, inquired.
+
+And the sun was filling the eastern horizon with a roseate glow. It
+would be above the edge of the plains in a little while, and still I had
+not returned.
+
+Breakfast followed, with many questions for the absent one. There was an
+eagerness to be off early and an uneasiness began to pervade the camp.
+
+"Jondo, you'll have to dig up Gail now. I saw him putting out northwest
+about one o'clock," Rex Krane said, aside to the train captain.
+
+"If he isn't here in ten minutes. I'll have to start out after him,"
+Jondo replied.
+
+Ten minutes are long to one who waits. The boys were ready for the camp
+order. "Catch up!" to start the harnessing of teams. But it was not
+given. The sun's level rays, hot and yellow, smote the camp, and a low
+murmur ran from wagon to wagon. Jondo waited a minute longer, then he
+climbed to the wagon tongue at the head of the ellipse of vehicles, his
+commanding form outlined against the open space, his fine face illumined
+by the sunlight.
+
+"Boys, listen to me."
+
+Men listened when Jondo spoke.
+
+"I believe we are in danger, but you have doubted my word. I leave the
+days to prove who is right. At midnight I sent Gail Clarenden to find
+out what is beyond that ridge--a band of men running parallel with us
+that shadows us day by day. If he is not here in ten minutes, we must go
+after him."
+
+A hush fell on the camp. The oxen switched at the first nipping insects
+of the morning, and the ponies and mules, with that horse-sense that all
+horsemen have observed in them at times, stood as if waiting for a
+decision to be made.
+
+Beverly Clarenden was first to speak.
+
+"If anybody goes after Gail, it's _me_, and I'll not stop till I get
+him," he cried, all the brotherly love of a lifetime in his ringing
+voice.
+
+"And me!" "And me!" "And me!" came from a dozen throats. Plainsmen were
+always the truest of comrades in the hour of danger. Nobody questioned
+Jondo's wisdom now. All thought was for the missing man.
+
+Rex Krane had leaped up on the wagon next to Jondo's and stood gazing
+toward the northwest. At this outburst of eagerness he turned to the
+crowd in the corral.
+
+"You wait five minutes and Gail will be here. He's gettin' into sight
+out yonder now," he declared.
+
+Another shout, a rush for the open, and a straining of eyes to make sure
+of the lone rider coming swiftly down the trail I had followed out at
+midnight. And amid a wild swinging of hats and whoops of joy I rode into
+camp, hugged by Beverly and questioned by everybody, eager for my story
+from the time I left the camp until I rode into it again.
+
+"They took me to Pawnee Rock before they let me know anything, except
+that my scalp would hang to the old chief's war-spear if I tried one
+eye-wink to get away from them. But they let me keep my gun, and I took
+it for a sign," I told the company. "They had a lot of ceremony getting
+seated, and then, without any smoking-tobacco or peace-pipe, they gave
+their message."
+
+"Who said the Kiowas wasn't friendly? They already sent us word enough,"
+one man broke in.
+
+Jondo's face, that had been bright and hopeful, now grew grave.
+
+"They said they mean us no harm. They were grateful to Uncle Sam for the
+favors he had given them. That the prairies were wide, and there was
+room for all of us on it," I continued. "In proof, they said that we
+would pass that old rock to-day unharmed where once they would have
+counted us their enemies. And they let me go to bring you all this word.
+They are going northeast into the big hunting-ground, and we are safe."
+
+No man could take defeat better than Jondo.
+
+"I am glad if I was wrong in my opinion," he said. "Fifteen years on
+that trail have made me cautious. I shall still be cautious if I am your
+captain. They did not smoke the peace-pipe. In my judgment the Kiowas
+lied. Two or three days will prove it. Choose now between me and my
+unchanged opinion, and some new train captain."
+
+"Oh, every man makes some bad guesses, Jondo. We'll keep you, of course,
+and it's a joke on you, that's all." So ran the comment, and we
+hurriedly broke camp and moved on.
+
+But with all of our captain's anxiety Pawnee Rock stood like a
+protecting shield above us when we camped at its base, and the long
+bright days that followed were full of a sense of security and good
+cheer as we pulled away for the Cimarron crossing of the Arkansas River,
+miles ahead.
+
+All day Jondo rode wide of the trail, sometimes on one side and
+sometimes on the other, watching for signs of an enemy. And the bluff,
+jovial crowd of bull-whackers laughed together at his holding on to his
+opinion out of sheer stubbornness.
+
+On the second night he asked for a triple guard and nobody grumbled, for
+everybody really liked the big plainsman and they could afford to be
+good-natured with him, now that he was unquestioningly in the wrong.
+
+The camp was in a little draw running down to the river, bordered by a
+mere ripple of ground on either side, growing deeper as it neared the
+stream and flattening out toward the level prairie in its upper
+portion. In spite of the triple guard, Jondo did not sleep that night;
+and, strangely enough, I, who had been dull to fear in the hands of the
+Indians two nights before, felt nervous and anxious, now when all seemed
+secure.
+
+Just at daybreak a light shower with big bullet-like drops of rain
+pattered down noisily on our camp and a sudden flash of lightning and a
+thunderbolt startled the sleepy stock and brought us to our feet, dazed
+for an instant. Another light volley of rain, another sheet of lightning
+and roar of thunder, and the cloud was gone, scattering down the
+Arkansas Valley. But in that flash all of Jondo's cause for anxiety was
+justified. The widening draw was full of Kiowas, hideous in war-paint,
+and the ridges on either side of us were swarming with Indians beating
+dried skins to frighten and stampede our stock, and all yelling like
+fiends, while a perfect rain of arrows swept our camp. With the river
+below us full of holes and quicksands, our enemies had only to hold the
+natural defense on either side while they drove us in a harrowing wedge
+back to the water. If our ponies and mules should break from the corral
+they would rush for the river or be lost in the widening space back from
+the deeper draw, where a well-trained corps of thieves knew how to
+capture them. I had estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two
+nights before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
+Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or hell
+that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake, with the foe
+four to one, man for man against us.
+
+Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write these
+words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning, clear and
+strong above the awful din, for nature made him to command in moments of
+peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one force to guard the corral, one
+to seize and hold either bank and one to charge on the advance of the
+Indians down the draw. We were on the defensive, as our captain had
+planned we should be, and every man of us realized bitterly now how much
+he had done for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.
+
+On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And the
+sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots had sped
+home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid plan of action
+against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds and gods were with
+them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the eastern sky was aflame, casting
+a lurid glare across the edges of the draw as a stream of savages with
+painted faces and naked bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral.
+In an instant the chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and
+our mules and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
+they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the entire
+battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by arrows,
+tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they had cleared the
+ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of hoofs on the hard
+earth told how well the thing had been done and how furiously our
+animals were being whirled away.
+
+"Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"
+
+Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a dozen
+bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling wide, we rode
+like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid our precious
+property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad burst of speed to save
+our own. We were gaining now, and turning the cloud toward the river.
+Another spurt, and we would have them checked, faced about, subdued. I
+saw the end, and as the boys swung forward I urged them on.
+
+"To the river. To the river. Head 'em south!" I cried.
+
+And Rex Krane, like a centaur, swirled by me to do the thing I ordered.
+Behind me rode Beverly Clarenden bareheaded, his face aglow with power.
+As I looked back the dust engulfed him for a moment, and then I heard an
+arrow sing, and a sharp cry of pain. The dust had lifted and Beverly and
+a huge Indian, the tallest I have ever seen, were grappling together, a
+scalping-knife gleaming in the morning light. I dashed forward and
+felled the savage with the butt of my revolver. He leaped to his feet
+and sprang at me just as Beverly, with unerring aim, sent a blaze of
+fire between us. As the savage fell again, my cousin seized his pony;
+and with an arrow still swinging to his arm, dashed into the chase, and
+left it only when the stock, with the loss of less than a fourth, was
+driven up the river's sandy bank and over the swell into the camp
+inclosure.
+
+Meantime, Jondo at the front of his men charged into the very center of
+the savage battle-line as, furious for blood, they threshed across the
+narrow draw--the disciplined arm and courageous heart against a
+blood-thirsty foe. A charge, a falling back, another surge to win the
+lost ground, a steady holding on and sure advance, and then Jondo, with
+one triumphant shout of victory, struck the last fierce blow that sent
+the Kiowas into full flight toward the northwest, and the day was won.
+
+Out by the river, a sudden dullness seized me. I lifted my eyes to see
+Beverly free and Rex directing the charge; cattle, mules, and ponies
+turned back toward safety, and something crawling and writhing about my
+feet; Jondo's great shout of victory far away, it seemed, miles and
+miles to the north; a cloud of dust sweeping toward me; the crimson east
+aflame like the Day of judgment; the dust cloud rolling nearer; the
+yellow sands and slow-moving waters of the Arkansas; and six silent
+stalwart Kiowa braves, with snaky black eyes, looking steadily at me.
+Shadows, and the dust cloud upon me. Then all was night.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE PLAINS
+
+
+    Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,
+    But we do not fall on the neck, nor kiss when we come together.
+                          --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+The whole thing was clear now, clear as the big white day that suddenly
+beamed along the prairies, scattering the clouds into gray strands
+against the upper heavens. The treachery of the Kiowas had been cleverly
+executed. Word of their friendliness had come to us through the Mexican
+caravan which could have no object in deceiving us, since it was on its
+way to Kansas City to do business with the Clarenden house there. And
+Jondo had sent a spy by night into the Kiowa camp as if they were not to
+be trusted. Yet they had taken no offense; but, letting me keep my
+firearms, had led me into their council on the top of Pawnee Rock, where
+they had told me in clear English that they had nothing but love for the
+white brothers of the plains. And to prove it we should pass unharmed
+along the trail where once we had wronged them by stealing their
+captive. The prairies were wide enough for all of us and they had
+forgotten--as an Indian always forgets--all malice against us. They had
+sent me back to camp with greetings to my captain, and had gone on their
+way to the heart of the Grand Prairie in the northeast.
+
+It was only Jondo, as he rode wide of the trail for two days, who could
+see any mark of an Indian's track. And we had not believed Jondo. We
+never made that mistake again: But trust in his shrewdness now, however,
+would not bring back the oxen lost and the mules and ponies captured by
+the thieving band of Dog Indians. But there was a greater loss than
+these. The Kiowas had come for revenge. It was blood, not plunder, they
+wanted. A dozen men with arrow wounds reported at roll call, and six men
+lay stark dead under the pitiless sky. Among them Davis of the St. Louis
+train, who had been too ill to take part in the struggle. One more loss
+was there to report, but it was not discovered until later.
+
+Indians seldom leave their dead on the field of battle, but the
+blood-stained sod beside their fallen ponies told a story of heavy toll.
+Blood marked the trail of hoofprints to the northwest in their wild rout
+thither. One comrade they had missed in their flight. He lay down near
+the river where the ground had been threshed over by the stampeded
+stock. He must have been a giant in life, for his was the longest grave
+made in the prairie sod that day. At the river's edge the sands were
+pricked with hoofprints, where the struggle to carry away the dead
+seemed to have reached clear into the thin yellow current of the
+Arkansas, although no trail led out on the far side of the stream.
+
+"That's the very copper cuss with yellow trimmings who had me down when
+that arrow stopped me," Beverly exclaimed. "He was seven feet tall and
+streaked with yellow just that way. I thought ten million rattlesnakes
+and eight billion polecats had hit me. His club was awful. Then I caught
+sight of old Gail's face in the dust-storm, coming back to help me. He
+gave the Indian one dose and got one back, a good hard bill, and then
+the dust closed in and Gail was off again to the northwest out there,
+like a hurricane. I could hear him a mile away. Couldn't I Gail? Where
+is Gail?"
+
+Where?
+
+"Oh, back there with the stock!"
+
+No?
+
+"Out there looking over the draw for things that's got all scattered."
+
+No? Not there?
+
+"Oh, he's getting breakfast. And we are all hungry enough to eat raw
+Kiowas now."
+
+No? No?
+
+"Gail would be helping the wounded, anyhow, or straightening out dead
+men's limbs. Poor fellows--to lose six! It's awful!"
+
+No? No? No?
+
+"Bathing in the river? Where? Over there across the sand-bar?"
+
+Nowhere! Nowhere!
+
+"By the eternal God, they've got him!" Jondo's agonized voice rang
+through the camp.
+
+"We can take care of the wounded, and those fellows lying over there
+don't need us. But, oh, Gail! They'll torture him to death!" Rex Krane's
+voice choked and he ground his teeth.
+
+"Gail, my Gail!" Beverly sat down white and desparingly calm--Beverly,
+whose up-bubbling spirits nobody could repress.
+
+The others wrung their hands and cursed and groaned aloud. Only Bill
+Banney, the unimaginative and stern-hearted, stood motionless with set
+jaws and black-frowning brows. Bill, whom the plains had made hard and
+unfeeling.
+
+"We won't give up Gail, will we, Bill?" Jondo spoke sternly, but his
+face--they said his face was bright with courage and that his eyes shone
+with the inspiration of his will. In all that crowd of eager, faithful
+men, he turned now to Bill Banney. Every man had his place on the
+plains, and Jondo out of the chrism of his own life-struggle knew that
+Bill was bearing a cross in silence, and that his was the martyr spirit
+that finds salvation only in deeds. Bill was the man for the place.
+
+And so while straying animals were slowly recovered, while the camp was
+set in order, while the dead were laid with simple reverence in
+un-coffined graves, and the sick were crudely ministered to, while
+Beverly grew feverish and his arrow wound became a festering sore, and
+Rex Krane, master of the company, cared for every thing and everybody
+with that big mother-heart of his--Jondo and Bill Banney pushed alone
+across the desolate plains toward where the Smoky Hills wrapped in their
+dim gray-blue mist mark the low watershed that rims the western valley
+of the Kaw.
+
+They went alone because skill, and not numbers, could save a captive
+from the hands of the Kiowas, and the sight of a force would mean death
+to the victim before he could be rescued.
+
+A splash of water against a hot hand hanging down; a sense of light, of
+motion; a glimpse of coarse sands and thin straggling weeds beside the
+edge of the stream down which the pathway ran; a sharp aching at the
+base of the brain; an agony of strained muscles--thus slowly I came to
+my senses, to memory, to the knowledge that I was bound hand and foot to
+a pony's back; that the sun was hot, and the sands were hotter, and the
+glare on the waters blinding; that every splash of the pony's hoofs sent
+up glittering sparkles that stabbed my aching eyes like white-hot
+dagger-points; that the black and clotted dirt on the pony's shoulder
+was not mud, but blood; that before and behind were other splashing
+feet, all hiding the trail in the thin current of the wide old Arkansas;
+that the quick turns to follow the water and the need for speed gave no
+consideration to the helpless rider. The image of six pairs of snaky
+black eyes came to help the benumbed brain, and I knew with whom I was
+again captive. But there was no question about the friendly motive now,
+for there was no friendly motive now. And as we pushed on east, Jondo
+and Bill Banney were hurrying toward the northwest, and the space
+between us widened every minute. A wave of helplessness and despair
+swept over me; then a wild up-leaping prayer for deliverance to a
+far-away unpitying Heaven; a sudden sense of the futility of prayer in a
+land the Lord had forgotten; and then anger, hot and wholesome, and an
+unconquered, dominant will to gain freedom or to die game, swept every
+other feeling away, marvelously mastering the sense of pain that had
+ground mercilessly at every nerve. Then came that small voice which a
+man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the blare of
+daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who notes the
+sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death, slow-lingering,
+inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely plain. The glare on the
+waters softened. The heat fell away. The despair and agony lifted. In
+all the world--my world--there was only one, God; not a far, unpitying,
+book-made Lord beyond the height of the glaring blue dome above me. God
+beside me on, the yellow waters of the Arkansas. His hand in my hot
+hand! His strength about me, invisible, unbreakable, infinite. When a
+man enters into that shielding Presence, nothing else matters.
+
+I do not know how many miles we went down-stream, leaving no trail in
+the shallow water or along its hard-baked edges. But by the time we
+dropped that line I had begun to think coherently and to take note of
+everything possible to me, bound as I was, face downward, on the pony's
+back. It was when we had left the river that the hard riding began, and
+a merciful unconsciousness, against which I fought, softened some
+stretches of that long day's journey. We crossed the Santa Fe Trail and
+were pushing eastward out of sight of it to the north. No stop, no word,
+nothing but ride, ride, ride. Truly, I needed the Presence that went
+with me on the way.
+
+At sunset we stopped, and I was taken from my pony and thrown to the
+ground. I managed, in spite of my bonds, to sit up and look about me.
+
+We were on the top of Pawnee Rock. The heat of the day was spent and all
+the radiant tints of evening were making the silent prairies unspeakably
+beautiful. I do not know why I should have noted or remembered any of
+this, save that the mind sometimes gathers impressions under strange
+stress of suffering. I had had no food all day, and when our ponies
+stopped to drink, the agony of thirst was maddening. My tongue was
+swollen and my lips were cracked and bleeding. The leather thongs that
+bound me cut deep now. But--only the men who lived it can know what all
+this meant to the pioneer of the trail.
+
+I have sat on the same spot at sunset many a time in these my sunset
+years; have gazed in tranquil joy at the whole panorama of the heavens
+that hang over the prairies in the opalescent splendor of the
+after-sunset hour; have looked out over the earthly paradise of waving
+grain, all glowing with the golden gleam of harvest, in the heart of the
+rich Kansas wheat-lands--and somehow I'm glad of soul that I foreran
+this day and--maybe--maybe I, too, helped somewhat to build the way--the
+way that Esmond Clarenden had helped to clear a decade before and was
+building then.
+
+The six Indians gathered near me. One of them with unmerciful mercy
+loosened my bonds a trifle and gave me a sup of water. They did not want
+me to die too soon. Then they sat down to eat and drink. I did not shut
+my eyes, nor turn my head. I defied their power to crush me, and the
+very defiance gave me strength.
+
+The chill air of evening blew about the brow of the rock, the twilight
+deepened, and down in the valley the shadows were beginning to hide the
+landscape. But the evening hour is long on the headlands. And there was
+ample time for another kind of council than that to which I had listened
+three mornings ago, when I had been set free to bear a friendly message
+to my chief.
+
+They carried me--helpless in their hands--to where, unseen myself, and
+secured by rock fragment and rawhide thong, I could see far up the trail
+to the eastward. But I could give no signal of distress, save for the
+feeble call of my swollen, thirst-parched throat. Then the six bronze
+sons of the plains sat down before me, and looked at me. Looked! I never
+see a pair of beady black eyes to-day--and there are many such--that I
+do not long to kill somebody, so vivid yet is the memory of those
+murdering eyes looking at me.
+
+At last they spoke--plains English, it is true--but clear to give their
+meaning.
+
+"Chief Clarenden thinks Kiowas forget. He comes with little train across
+the prairies; Kiowas go to meet big train east and fight fair for
+Mexican brothers who hate Chief Clarenden. They do not stop to look for
+little sneaking coyotes when they seek big game. Clarenden steals away
+Kiowas' captive Hopi. Cheat Kiowas of big pay that white Medicine-man
+Josef would give for her. Mexican brothers and Kiowa tribe hate
+Clarenden. They take his son, _you_, to show Clarenden they can steal,
+too. Hopi girl! white brave! all the same."
+
+The speaker's words came deliberately, and he gave a contemptuous wave
+of the hand as he closed. And the six sat silent for a time. Then
+another voice broke the stillness.
+
+"Yonder is your trail. Chief Clarenden and big white chiefs go by to
+Santa Fe to buy and sell and grow rich. Indian sell captives to grow
+rich! No! White chief not let Indians buy and sell. But we do not kill
+white dogs. We leave you here to watch the trail for wagon-trains. They
+may not come soon. They may not see you nor hear you. You can see them
+pass on their way to get rich. You can watch them. Hopi girl would have
+brought us big money. We get no richer. Watch white men go get rich. You
+may watch many days till sun dries your eyes. Nothing trouble you here.
+Watch the trail. No wild animal come here. No water drown you here. No
+fine meat make you ache with eating here. Watch."
+
+The six looked long at me, and as the light faded their black eyes and
+dark faces seemed like the glittering eyes and hooked bills of six great
+dark birds of prey.
+
+When the last sunset glow was in the west the six rose up and walked
+backward, still looking at me, until they passed my range of vision and
+I could only feel their eyes upon me. Then I heard the clatter of
+ponies' feet on the hard rock, the fainter stroke on the thin, sandy
+soil, the thud on the thickening sod. Thump, thump, thump, farther and
+farther and farther away. The west grew scarlet, deepened to purple and
+melted at last into the dull gray twilight that foreruns the darkness of
+night. One ray of pale gold shimmered far along toward the zenith and
+lost itself in the upper heavens, and the stars came forth in the
+blue-black eastern sky. And I was alone with the Presence whose arm is
+never shortened and whose ear grows never heavy.
+
+The trail to the east was only a dull line along the darker earth. I
+looked up at the myriad stars coming swiftly out of space to greet me.
+The starlit sky above the open prairie speaks the voice of the Infinite
+in a grandeur never matched on land or sea.
+
+I thought of Little Blue Flower on that dim-lighted dawning when she had
+showed us her bleeding hands and lashed shoulders. And again I heard
+Beverly's boyish voice ring out:
+
+"Let's take her and take our chances."
+
+And then I was beside the glistening waters of the Flat Rock, and Little
+Blue Flower was there in her white Grecian robe and the wrought-silver
+headband with coral pendants. And Eloise. The golden hair, the soft dark
+eyes, the dainty peach-bloom cheek. Eloise whom I had loved always and
+always. Eloise who loved Beverly--good, big-hearted, sunny-faced
+Beverly, who never had visions. Any girl would love him. Most of all,
+Little Blue Flower. What a loving message she had left us in the one
+word, _Lolomi_. God pity her.
+
+A thousand sharp pains racked my body. I tried to move. I longed for
+water. Then a merciful darkness fell upon me--not sleep, but
+unconsciousness. And the stars watched over me through that black night,
+lying there half dead and utterly alone.
+
+Out to the northwest Jondo and Bill Banney rode long on the trail of the
+fleeing Kiowas. A picture for an artist of the West, these two rough men
+in the garb and mount and trappings of the plainsman, with eyes alert
+and strong faces, riding only as men can ride who go to save a life more
+eagerly than they would save their own. Not in rash haste, but with
+unchecked speed, losing no mark along the trail that should guide them
+more quickly to their goal, so they passed side by side, and neither
+said a word for hours along the way. Night came, and the needs of their
+ponies made them pause briefly. The trail, too, was harder to follow
+now. They might lose it in the darkness and so lose time. And those two
+men were going forth to victory. Not for one single heart-beat did they
+doubt their power to win, and the stead-fast assurance made them calm.
+
+Daylight again, and a fresher trail made them hurry on. They drank at
+every stream and ate a snatch of food as they rode. They reached the
+hurriedly quitted Kiowa camp, and searched for the sign of vengeance on
+a captive there. Jondo knew those signs, and his heart beat high with
+hope.
+
+"They haven't done it yet," he said to his companion. "They want to get
+away first. We are safe for a day."
+
+And they rode swiftly on again.
+
+"There's trouble here," Bill Banney declared as he watched the ground.
+"Too many feet. Could it be here?"
+
+His voice was hardly audible. The two men halted and read the ground
+with piercing eyes. Something had happened, for there had been a
+circling and chasing in and out, and the sod was cut deep with
+hoofprints.
+
+"No council nor ceremony, no open space for anything." Jondo would not
+even speak the word he was bound not to know.
+
+"They've divided, Jondo. Here goes the big crowd, and there a smaller
+one," Bill declared.
+
+"There were a lot of Dog Indians along for thieving. They've split here.
+Seem to have fussed a bit over it, too. And yonder runs the Kiowa trail
+to the north. Here go the Dogs east." Jondo replied. "We'll follow the
+Kiowas a spell," he added, after a thoughtful pause.
+
+And again they were off. It was nearing noon now, and the trail was
+fresher every minute. At last the plainsmen climbed a low swell, halting
+out of sight on the hither side. Then creeping to the crest, they looked
+down on the Indian camp lying in a little dry valley of a lost stream
+whose course ran underground beneath them.
+
+Lying flat on the ground, each with his head behind a low bush on the
+top of the swell, the men read the valley with searching eyes. Then
+Jondo, with Bill at his heels, slid swiftly down the slope.
+
+"Gail Clarenden isn't there. We must take the trail east, and ride
+hard," he said, in a hoarse voice.
+
+And they rode hard until they were beyond the range of the Kiowa
+outposts.
+
+"What's your game, Jondo?" Bill asked, at length.
+
+"They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's lost
+somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't quite
+understand, but we'll go on."
+
+It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the hardship of
+the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected him to give up. The
+sun blazed down in the heat of the late afternoon, and the baking earth
+lay brown and dry beneath the heat-quivering air. There was no sound
+nor motion on the plains as the two faithful brothers--in
+purpose--followed hard on the track of the Dog Indian band.
+
+Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of their
+chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far ahead. Jondo
+and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover was in sight, but if
+the Indians were unsuspicious they might not be discovered. On went the
+outlaw band, and the two white men followed after. Suddenly the Indians
+halted and grouped themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly
+for the cause. Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into
+view. They, too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two
+dull, motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
+White men didn't belong there.
+
+The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing eastward.
+Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band spurted east as
+rapidly.
+
+Jondo looked at Bill.
+
+"I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he cried,
+triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.
+
+"What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.
+
+"Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs out
+yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils getting
+him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the six. They have
+left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting back to join the tribe.
+They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll run down this trail to the south.
+Hurry, Bill! For God's sake, hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't
+see us back here."
+
+That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same clear
+sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green prairies; but
+it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and choking with thirst
+through the awful lengths of that summer day. Fitful unconsciousness,
+with fever and delirium, seeing mocking faces with snaky black eyes,
+looking long at me; food almost touching my lips, and floods of crystal
+waters everywhere just out of reach. I was on the bluff above the river
+at Fort Leavenworth again, watching for the fish on the sand-bars. They
+were Indians instead of fish, and they laughed at me and called me a big
+brown bob-cat. Then Mother Bridget and Aunty Boone would have come to me
+if I could only make them hear me. But the sun beat hot upon my burning
+face, and my swollen lips refused to moan.
+
+And then I looked to the eastward and hope sprang to life within me. A
+wagon-train was crawling slowly toward Pawnee Rock. Tears drenched my
+eyes until I could hardly count the wagons--twenty, thirty, forty. It
+must be far in the afternoon now, and they might encamp here. But they
+seemed to be hurrying. I could not see for pain, but I knew they were
+near the headland now. I could hear the rattle of the wagon-chains and
+the tramp of feet and shouts of the bull-whackers. I tugged masterfully
+at my bonds. It was a useless effort. I tried to shout, but only low
+moans came forth from my parched lips. I strove and raged and prayed.
+The wagons hurried on and on, a long time, for there were many of them.
+Then the rattling grew fainter, the voices were far off, the thud of
+hoof-beats ceased. The train had passed the Rock, never dreaming that a
+man lay dying in sight of the succor they would so gladly have given.
+
+The sun began to strike in level rays across the land, and the air was
+cooler, but I gave no heed to things about me. Death was waiting--slow,
+taunting death. The stars would be kind again to-night as they had been
+last night, but death crouching between me and the starlight, was slowly
+crawling up Pawnee Rock. Oh, so slowly, yet so surely creeping on. The
+sun was gone and a tender pink illumined the sky. The light was soft
+now. If death would only steal in before the glare burst forth. I forgot
+that night must come first. Pity, God of heaven, pity me!
+
+And then the Presence came, and a sweet, low voice--I hear it still
+sometimes, when sunsets soften to twilight, "_My presence shall go with_
+_thee, and I will give thee rest."_ I felt a thrill of triumph pulse
+through my being. Unconquered, strong, and glad is he who trusts.
+
+"I shall not die. I shall live, and in God's good time I shall be
+saved." I tried to speak the words, but I could not hear my voice. My
+pains were gone and I lay staring at the evening sky all
+mother-of-pearl and gold above my head. And on my lips a smile.
+
+And so they found me at twilight, as a tired child about to fall asleep.
+They did not cry out, nor fall on my neck, nor weep. But Bill Banney's
+strong arms carried me tenderly away. Water, food, unbound swollen
+limbs, bathed in the warm Arkansas flow, soft grass for a bed, and the
+eyes of the big plainsman, my childhood idol, gentle as a girl's,
+looking unutterable things into my eyes.
+
+I've never known a mother's love, but for that loss the Lord gave
+me--Jondo.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+IN THE SHELTER OF SAN MIGUEL
+
+
+    Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be
+    The dearest bond between my heart and thee.
+                       --ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
+
+
+When we reached the end of the trail and entered a second time into
+Santa Fe the Stars and Stripes were floating lazily above the Palace of
+the Governors. Out on the heights beyond the old Spanish prison stood
+Fort Marcy, whose battlements told of a military might, strong to
+control what by its strength it had secured. In its shadow was La
+Garita, of old the place of execution, against whose blind wall many a
+prisoner had started on the long trail at the word of a Spanish bullet,
+La Garita changed now from a thing of legalized horror to a landmark of
+history.
+
+But the city itself seemed unchanged, and there was little evidence that
+Yankee thrift and energy had entered New Mexico with the new government.
+The narrow street still marked the trail's end before the Exchange
+Hotel. San Miguel, with its dun walls and triple-towered steeple, still
+good guard over the soul of Santa Fe, as it had stood for three sunny
+centuries. The Mexican still drove down the loaded burro-train of
+firewood from the mountains. The Indian basked in the sunny corners of
+the Plaza. The adobe dwellings clustered blindly along little lanes
+leading out to nowhere in particular. The orchards and cornfields,
+primitively cultivated, made tiny oases beside the trickling streams and
+sandy beds of dry arroyos. The sheep grazed on the scant grasses of the
+plain. The steep gray mesa slopes were splotched with clumps of
+evergreen shrubs and pinon trees. And over all the silent mountains kept
+watch.
+
+The business house of Felix Narveo, however, did not share in this
+lethargy. The streets about the Plaza were full of Conestoga wagons,
+with tired ox-teams lying yoked or unyoked before them. Most of the
+traffic borne in by these came directly or indirectly to the house of
+Narveo. And its proprietor, the same silent, alert man, had taken
+advantage of a less restricted government, following the Mexican War, to
+increase his interests. So mine and meadow, flock and herd, trappers'
+snare and Indian loom and forge, all poured their treasures into his
+hands--a clearing-house for the products of New Mexico to swell the
+great overland commerce that followed the Santa Fe Trail.
+
+For all of which the ground plan had been laid mainly by Esmond
+Clarenden, when with tremendous daring he came to Santa Fe and spied out
+the land for these years to follow.
+
+A boy's memory is keen, and all the hours of that other journey hither,
+with their eager anticipation and youthful curiosity, and love of
+surprise and adventure, came back to Beverly Clarenden and me as we
+pulled along the last lap of the trail.
+
+"Was it really so long ago, Bev, that we came in here, all eyes and
+ears?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"No, it was last evening. And not an eyebrow in this Rip Van Winkle town
+has lifted since," Beverly replied. "Yonder stands that old church where
+the gallant knight on a stiff-legged pony spied Little Lees and knocked
+the head off of that tormenting Marcos villain, and kicked it under the
+door-step. Say, Gail, I'd like mighty well to see the grown-up Little
+Lees, wouldn't you? And I'd as soon this was Saint Louis as Santa Fe."
+
+Since the night of Mat's wedding, I had been resolutely putting away all
+thought of Eloise St. Vrain. I belonged to the plains. All my training
+had been for this. I thought I was very old and settled now. But the
+mention of her pet name sent a thrill through me; and these streets of
+Santa Fe brought back a flood of memories and boyhood dreams and
+visions.
+
+"Bev, how many auld-lang-syners do you reckon we'll meet in this land of
+sunshine and _chilly_ beans?" I asked, carelessly.
+
+"Well, how many of them do you remember, Mr. Cyclopedia of Prominent Men
+and Pretty Women?" Beverly inquired.
+
+"Oh, there was Felix Narveo and Father Josef--and Little Blue
+Flower"--A shadow flitted across my cousin's face for a moment, leaving
+it sunny as ever again.
+
+"And there was that black-eyed Marcos boy everywhere, and Ferdinand
+Ramero whom we were warned to step wide of," I went on.
+
+"Oh, that tall thin man with blue-glass eyes that cut your fingers when
+he looked at you. Maybe he went out the back door of New Mexico when
+General Kearny peeped in at the front transom. There wasn't any fight in
+that man."
+
+"Jondo says he is still in Santa Fe." Just as I spoke an Indian swept by
+us, riding with the ease of that born-to-the-horseback race.
+
+"Beverly, do you remember that Indian boy that we saw out at Agua Fria?"
+I asked.
+
+"The day we found Little Lees asleep in the church?" Beverly broke in,
+eagerly.
+
+In our whole journey he had hardly spoken of Eloise, and, knowing
+Beverly as I did, I had felt sure for that reason that she had not been
+on his mind. Now twice in five minutes he had called her name. But why
+should he not remember her here, as well as I?
+
+"Yes, I remember there was an Indian boy, sort of sneaky like, and deaf
+and dumb, that followed us until I turned and stared him out of it.
+That's the way to get rid of 'em, Gail, same as a savage dog," Beverly
+said, lightly.
+
+"What if there are six of them all staring at you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, Gail, for the Lord's sake forget that!"
+
+Beverly cried, affectionately. "When you've got an arrow wound rotting
+your arm off and six hundred and twenty degrees of fever in your blood,
+and the son of your old age is gone for three days and nights, and you
+don't dare to think where, you'll know why a fellow doesn't want to
+remember." There were real tears in the boy's eyes. Beverly was deeper
+than I had thought.
+
+"Well, to change gradually, I wonder if that centaur who just passed us
+might be that same Indian of Agua Fria of long ago."
+
+"He couldn't be," Beverly declared, confidently. "That boy got one
+square look at my eagle eye and he never stopped running till he jumped
+into the Pacific Ocean. 'I shall see him again over there.'" Half
+chanting the last words, Beverly, boy-hearted and daring and happy,
+cracked his whip, and our mule-team began to prance off in mule style
+the journey's latter end.
+
+Oh, Beverly! Beverly! Why did that day on the parade-ground at Fort
+Leavenworth and a boy's pleading face lifted to mine, come back to me at
+that moment? Strange are the lines of life. I shall never clearly read
+them all.
+
+Down in the Plaza a tall, slender young man was sitting in the shade,
+idly digging at the sod with an open pocket-knife. There was something
+magnetic about him, the presence that even in a crowd demands a second
+look.
+
+He was dressed in spotless white linen, and with his handsome mustache,
+his well-groomed black hair, and sparkling black eyes, he was a true
+type of the leisure son of the Spanish-Mexican grandee. He stared at
+our travel-stained caravan as it rolled down the Plaza's edge, but his
+careless smile changed to an insolent grin, showing all his perfect
+teeth as he caught sight of Beverly and me.
+
+We laid no claims to manly beauty, but we were stalwart young fellows,
+with the easy strength of good health, good habits, clear conscience,
+and the frank faces of boys reared on the frontier, and accustomed to
+its dangers by men who defied the very devil to do them harm. But even
+in our best clothes, saved for the display at the end of the trail, we
+were uncouth compared to this young gentleman, and our tanned faces and
+hard brown hands bespoke the rough bull-whacker of the plains.
+
+As our train halted, the young man lighted a cigar and puffed the smoke
+toward us, as if to ignore our presence.
+
+"Its mamma has dressed it up to go and play in the park, but it mustn't
+speak to little boys, nor soil its pinafore, nor listen to any naughty
+words. And it couldn't hold its own against a kitten. Nice little
+clothes-horse to hang white goods on!"
+
+Beverly had turned his back to the Plaza and was speaking in a low tone,
+with the serious face and far-away air of one who referred to a thing of
+the past.
+
+"Bev, you are a mind-reader, a character-sketcher--" I began, but
+stopped short to stare into the Plaza beyond him.
+
+The young man had sprung to his feet and stood there with flashing eyes
+and hands clenched. Behind him was the same young Indian who had passed
+us on the trail. He was lithe, with every muscle trained to strength and
+swiftness and endurance.
+
+He had muttered a word into the young white man's ear that made him
+spring up. And while the face of the Indian was expressionless, the
+other's face was full of surprise and anger; and I recognized both faces
+in an instant.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, there are two auld-lang-syners behind you right now.
+One is Marcos Ramero, and the other is Santan of Bent's Fort," I said,
+softly.
+
+Beverly turned quickly, something in his fearless face making the two
+men drop their eyes. When we looked again they had left the Plaza by
+different ways.
+
+After dinner that evening Jondo and Bill Banney hurried away for a
+business conference with Felix Narveo. Rex and Beverly also disappeared
+and I was alone.
+
+The last clear light of a long summer day was lingering over the valley
+of the Rio Grande, and the cool evening breeze was rippling in from the
+mountains, when I started out along the narrow street that made the
+terminal of the old Santa Fe Trail. I was hardly conscious of any
+purpose of direction until I came to the half-dry Santa Fe River and saw
+the spire of San Miguel beyond it. In a moment the same sense of loss
+and longing swept over me that I had fought with on the night after
+Mat's wedding, when I sat on the bluff and stared at the waters of the
+Kaw flowing down to meet the Missouri. And then I remembered what Father
+Josef had said long ago out by the sandy arroyo:
+
+"Among friends or enemies, the one haven of safety always is the holy
+sanctuary."
+
+I felt the strong need for a haven from myself as I crossed the stream
+and followed the trail up to the doorway of San Miguel.
+
+The shadows were growing long, few sounds broke the stillness of the
+hour, and the spirit of peace brooded in the soft light and sweet air. I
+had almost reached the church when I stopped suddenly, stunned by what I
+saw. Two people were strolling up the narrow, crooked street that
+wanders eastward beside the building--a tall, slender young man in white
+linen clothes and a girl in a soft creamy gown, with a crimson scarf
+draped about her shoulders. They were both bareheaded, and the man's
+heavy black hair and curling black mustache, and the girl's coronal of
+golden braids and the profile of her fair face left no doubt about the
+two. It was Marcos Ramero and Eloise St. Vrain. They were talking
+earnestly; and in a very lover-like manner the young man bent down to
+catch his companion's words.
+
+Something seemed to snap asunder in my brain, and from that moment I
+knew myself; knew how futile is the belief that miles of prairie trail
+and strength of busy days can ever cast down and break an idol of the
+heart.
+
+In a minute they had passed a turn in the street, and there was only
+sandy earth and dust-colored walls and a yellow glare above them, where
+a moment ago had been a shimmer of sunset's gold.
+
+"The one haven of safety always is the holy sanctuary."
+
+Father Josef's words sounded in my ears, and the face of old San Miguel
+seemed to wear a welcoming smile. I stepped into the deep doorway and
+stood there, aimless and unthinking, looking out toward where the Jemez
+Mountains were outlined against the southwest horizon. Presently I
+caught the sound of feet, and Marcos Ramero strode out of the narrow
+street and followed the trail into the heart of the city.
+
+I stared after him, noting the graceful carriage, the well-fitting
+clothes, and the proud set of the handsome head. There was no doubt
+about him. Did he hold the heart of the golden-haired girl who had
+walked into my life to stay? As he passed out of my sight Eloise St.
+Vrain came swiftly around the corner of the street to the church door,
+and stopped before me in wide-eyed amazement. Eloise, with her clinging
+creamy draperies, and the vivid red of her silken scarf, and her
+glorious hair.
+
+"Oh, Gail Clarenden, is it really you?" she cried, stretching out both
+hands toward me with a glad light in her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Little Lees, it is I."
+
+I took both of her hands in mine. They were soft and white, and mine
+were brown and horny, but their touch sent a thrill of joy through me.
+She clung tightly to my hands for an instant. Then a deeper pink swept
+her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes and stepped back.
+
+"They told me you were--lost--on the way; that some Kiowas had killed
+you."
+
+She lifted her face again, and heaven had not anything better for me
+than the depths of those big dark eyes looking into mine.
+
+"Who told you, Eloise?"
+
+The girl looked over her shoulder apprehensively, and lowered her voice
+as she replied:
+
+"Marcos Ramero."
+
+"He's a liar. I am awfully alive, and Marcos Ramero knows I am, for he
+saw me and recognized me down in the Plaza this afternoon," I declared.
+
+Just then the church door opened and a girl in Mexican dress came out. I
+did not see her face, nor notice which way she took, for a priest
+following her stepped between us. It was Father Josef.
+
+"My children, come inside. The holy sanctuary offers you a better
+shelter than the open street."
+
+I shall never forget that voice, nor hear another like it. Inside, the
+candles were burning dimly at the altar. The last rays of daylight came
+through the high south windows, touching the carved old rafters and gray
+adobe with a red glow. Long ago human hands, for lack of trowels, had
+laid that adobe surface on the rough stone--hands whose imprint is
+graven still on those crudely dented walls.
+
+We sat down on a low seat inside of the doorway, and Father Josef passed
+up the aisle to the altar, leaving us there alone.
+
+"Eloise, Marcos Ramero is your friend, and I beg your pardon for
+speaking of him as I did."
+
+I resented with all my soul the thought of this girl caring for the son
+of the man who in some infamous way had wronged Jondo, but I had no
+right to be rude about him.
+
+"Gail, may I say something to you?" The voice was as a pleading call and
+the girl's farce was full of pathos.
+
+"Say on, Little Lees," was all that I could venture to answer.
+
+"Do you remember the day you came in here and threw Marcos Ramero out of
+that door?"
+
+"I do," I replied.
+
+"Would you do it again, if it were necessary? I mean--if--" the voice
+faltered.
+
+I had heard the same pleading tone on the night of Mat's wedding when
+Eloise and Beverly were in the little side porch together. I looked up
+at the red light on the old church rafters and the rough gray walls. How
+like to those hand-marked walls our memories are, deep-dented by the
+words they hold forever! Then I looked down at the girl beside me and I
+forgot everything else. Her golden hair, her creamy-white dress, and
+that rich crimson scarf draped about her shoulders and falling across
+her knees would have made a Madonna's model that old Giovanni Cimabue
+himself would have joyed to copy.
+
+"Is it likely to be necessary? Be fair with me, Eloise. I saw you two
+strolling up that little goat-run of a street out there just now.
+Judging from the back of his head, Marcos looked satisfied. I shouldn't
+want to interfere nor make you any trouble," I said, earnestly.
+
+"It is I who should not make you any trouble, but, oh, Gail, I came here
+this evening because I was afraid and I didn't know where else to go,
+and I found you. I thought you were dead somewhere out on the Kansas
+prairie. Maybe it was to help me a little that you came here to-night."
+
+Her hands were gripped tightly and her mouth was firm-set in an effort
+to be brave.
+
+"Why, Eloise, I'd never let Marcos Ramero, nor anybody else, make you
+one little heart-throb afraid. If you will only let me help you, I
+wouldn't call it trouble; I'd call it by another name." The longing to
+say more made me pause there.
+
+The light was fading overhead, but the church lamps gave a soft glow
+that seemed to shield off the shadowy gloom.
+
+"Father Josef came all the way from New Mexico to St. Ann's to have me
+come back here, and Mother Bridget sent Sister Anita, you remember her,
+up to St. Louis to come with me by way of New Orleans. I didn't tell you
+that I might be here when your train came in overland because--because
+of some things about my own people--"
+
+The fair head was bowed and the soft voice trembled.
+
+"Don't be afraid to tell me anything, Little Lees," I whispered,
+assuringly.
+
+"I never saw my father, but my mother was very beautiful and loving, and
+we were so happy together. I was still a very little girl when she fell
+sick and they took me away from her. I never knew when she died nor
+where she was buried. Ferdinand Ramero had charge of her property. He
+controlled everything after she went away, and I have always lived in
+fear of his word. I am helpless when he commands, for he has a strange
+power over minds; and as to Marcos--you know what a little cat I was. I
+had to be to live with him. It wasn't until we were all at Bent's Fort
+that I got over my fear of you and Beverly. The day you threw Marcos out
+of here was the first time I ever had a champion to defend me."
+
+I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her what I dared not think she
+would let me say. So I listened in sympathetic silence.
+
+"Then came an awful day out at Agua Fria, and Father Josef took me in
+his arms as he would take a baby, and sang me to sleep with the songs my
+mother loved to sing. I think it must have been midnight when I wakened.
+It was dreary and cold, and Esmond Clarenden and Ferdinand Ramero were
+there, and Father Josef and Jondo."
+
+And then she told me, as she remembered them, the happenings of that
+night at Agua Fria, the same story that Jondo told me later. But until
+that evening I had known nothing of how Eloise had come to us.
+
+"You know the rest," Eloise went on "I have had a boarding-school life,
+and no real friends, except the Clarenden family, outside of these
+schools."
+
+"You poor little girl! One of the same Clarenden family is ready to be
+your friend now," I said, tenderly, remembering keenly how Uncle Esmond
+and Jondo had loved and protected three orphan children.
+
+"The Rameros think nobody but a Ramero can do that now. Marcos is very
+much changed. He has been educated in Europe, is handsome, and courtly
+in his manners, and as his father's heir he will be wealthy. He came
+to-night to ask me, to urge and plead with me, to marry him." Eloise
+paused.
+
+"Do you need the defense of a bull-whacker of the plains against these
+things?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, I could depend on myself if it were only Marcos. He comes with
+polished ways and pleasing words," Eloise replied. "It is his father's
+iron fist back of him that strikes at me through his graciousness. He
+tells me that all the St. Vrain money, which he controls by the terms of
+my father's will, he can give to the Church, if he chooses, and leave me
+disinherited."
+
+"We don't mind that a bit as a starter up in Kansas. Come out on our
+prairies and try it," I suggested.
+
+"But, Gail, that isn't all. There is something worse, dreadfully worse,
+that I cannot tell you, that only the Rameros know, and hold like a
+sword over my head. If I marry Marcos his father will destroy all
+evidence of it and I shall have a handsome, talented, rich husband."
+Eloise bowed her head and clasped her hands, crushed by the misery of
+her lot.
+
+"And if you refuse to marry this scoundrel?" I asked, bluntly.
+
+"Then I will be a penniless outcast. The Rameros are powerful here, and
+the Church will be with them, for it will get my inheritance. I am
+helpless and alone and I don't know what to do."
+
+I think I had never known what anger meant before. This beautiful girl,
+homeless, and about to be robbed of her fortune, reared in luxury, with
+no chance for developing self-reliance and courage, was being hemmed in
+and forced to a marriage by threats of poverty and a secret something
+against which she was powerless. All the manhood in me rallied to her
+cause, and she was an hundredfold dearer to me now, in her helplessness.
+
+"Eloise, I'm a horny-handed driver of a bull-team on the Santa Fe Trail,
+but you will let me help you if I can. So far as your money is
+concerned, there's a lot of it on earth, even if the Church should grab
+up your little bit because Ferdinand Ramero says your father's will
+permits it. There are evil representatives in every Church, no matter
+what its name may be, Catholic, Protestant, Indian, or Jew, but Father
+Josef up there is bigger than his priestly coat, and you can trust that
+size anywhere. And as to the knowledge of this 'something' known just to
+Ferdinand Ramero, if he is the only one who knows it, it is too small to
+get far, if it were turned loose. And any man who would use such
+infamous means to get what he wants is too small to have much influence
+if he doesn't get it. This is a big, wide, good world, Little Lees, and
+the father of Marcos Ramero, with all his power and wealth, has a short
+lariat that doesn't let him graze wide. Jondo holds the other end of
+that lariat, and he knows."
+
+Eloise listened eagerly, but her face was very white.
+
+"Gail, you don't know the Ramero blood. I am helpless and terrified with
+them in spite of their suave manners and flattering words. Why did
+Father Josef bring me back here if the Church is not with them? And then
+that awful shadow of some hidden thing that may darken my life. I know
+their cruel, pitiless hearts. They stop at nothing when they want their
+way. I have known them to do the most cold-blooded deeds."
+
+Poor Eloise! The net about her had been skilfully drawn.
+
+"I don't know Father Josef's motive, but I can trust him. And no shadow
+shall trouble you long, Little Lees. Jondo and Uncle Esmond tote
+together,' Aunty Boone said long ago. They know something about the
+Ramero blood, and Jondo has promised to tell me his story some day. He
+must do it to-night, and to-morrow we'll see the end of this tangle.
+Trust me, Eloise," I said, comfortingly.
+
+"But, Gail, I'm afraid Ferdinand will kill you if you get in his way."
+Eloise clung to my arm imploringly.
+
+"Six big Kiowas got fooled at that job. Do you think this thin streak of
+humanity would try it?" I asked, lightly.
+
+Eloise stood up beside me.
+
+"I must go away now," she said.
+
+"Then I'll go with you. Thank you, Father Josef, for your kindness," I
+said as the priest came toward us.
+
+"You are welcome, my son. In the sanctuary circle no harm can come.
+Peace be with both of you."
+
+There was a world of benediction in his deep tones, and his smile was
+genial, as he followed us to the street and stood as if watching for
+some one.
+
+"I will meet you at San Miguel's to-morrow afternoon, Gail," Eloise
+said, as we reached a low but pretentious adobe dwelling. "This is my
+home now."
+
+"Your new Mexican homes are thick-walled, and you live all on the
+inside," I said, as we paused at the doorway. "They make me think of the
+lower invertebrates, hard-shelled, soft-bodied animals. Up on the Kansas
+prairies and the Missouri bluffs we have a central vetebra--the family
+hearth-stone--and we live all around it. That is the people who have
+them do. There isn't much home life for a freighter of the plains
+anywhere. Good by, Little Lees." I took her offered hand. "I'm glad you
+have let me be your friend, a hard-shelled bull-whacker like me."
+
+The street was full of shadows and the evening air was chill as the door
+closed on that sweet face and cloud of golden hair. But the pressure of
+warm white fingers lingered long in my sense of touch as I retraced my
+steps to the trail's end. At the church door I saw Father Josef still
+waiting, as if watching for somebody.
+
+All that Eloise had told me ran through my mind, but I felt sure that
+neither financial nor churchly influence in Santa Fe could be turned to
+evil purposes so long as men like Felix Narveo and Father Josef were
+there. And then I thought of Esmond Clarenden, himself neither Mexican
+nor Roman Catholic, who, nevertheless, drew to himself such
+fair-dealing, high-minded men as these, always finding the best to aid
+him, and combating the worst with daring fearlessness. Surely with the
+priest and the merchant and Jondo as my uncle's representative, no harm
+could come to the girl whom I knew that I should always love.
+
+And with my mind full of Eloise and her need I sought out Jondo and
+listened to his story.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OPENING THE RECORD
+
+
+  Fighting for leave to live and labor well,
+  God flung me peace and ease.
+                  --"A SONG OF THE ENGLISH."
+
+
+I found Jondo in the little piazza opening into the hotel court.
+
+"Where did you leave Krane and Bev?" he asked, as I sat down beside him.
+
+"I didn't leave them; they left me," I answered.
+
+"Oh, you young bucks are all alike. You know just enough to be good to
+yourselves. You don't think much about anybody else," Jondo said, with a
+smile.
+
+"I think of others, Jondo, and for that reason I want you to tell me
+that story about Ferdinand Ramero that you promised to tell me one night
+back on the trail."
+
+Jondo gave a start.
+
+"I'd like to forget that man, not talk about him," he replied.
+
+"But it is to help somebody else, not just to be good to myself, that I
+want to know it," I insisted, using his own terms. And then I told him
+what Eloise had told me in the San Miguel church.
+
+"Are the Ramero's so powerful here that they can control the Church in
+their scheme to get what they want?" I asked.
+
+"It would be foolish to underestimate the strength of Ferdinand Ramero,"
+Jondo replied, adding, grimly, "It has been my lot to know the best of
+men who could make me believe all men are good, and the worst of men who
+make me doubt all humanity." He clenched his fists as if to hold himself
+in check, and something, neither sigh nor groan nor oath nor prayer, but
+like them all, burst from his lips.
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the green
+prairies and the open plains, and the danger-stimulus of the old Santa
+Fe Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard,
+rebellious heart, and make you see things big, and despise the narrow
+little crooks in your path."
+
+One must have known Jondo, with his bluff manner and sunny smile and
+daring spirit, to feel the force, of these brave sad words. I felt
+intuitively that I had laid bare a wound of his by my story.
+
+"It is for Eloise, not for my curiosity, that I have come to you," I
+said, gently.
+
+"And you didn't come too soon, boy." Jondo was himself in a moment. "It
+is another cruel act in the old tragedy of Ramero against Clarenden and
+others."
+
+"Will the Church be bribed by the St. Vrain estate and urge this
+wedding?" I asked.
+
+"The Church considers money as so much power for the Kingdom. I have
+heard that the St. Vrain estate was left in Ramero's hands with the
+proviso that if Eloise should marry foolishly before she was twenty-five
+she, would lose her property. Do you see the trick in the game, and why
+Ramero can say that if he chooses he can take her heritage away from
+her? But as he keeps everything in his own hands it is hard to know the
+truth about anything connected with money matters."
+
+"Would Father Josef be party to such a transaction?" I asked, angrily.
+
+"Ramero thinks so, but he is mistaken," Jondo replied.
+
+"What makes you think he won't be?" I insisted.
+
+"Because I knew Father Josef before he became a priest, and why he took
+the vows," Jondo declared. "Unless a man brings some manhood to the
+altar, he will not find it in the title nor the dress there, it makes no
+difference whether he be Catholic, Protestant, Hebrew, or heathen.
+Father Josef was a gentleman before he was a priest."
+
+"Well, if he's all right, why did he bring Eloise back here into the
+heart of all this trouble?" I questioned.
+
+Jondo sat thinking for a little while, then he said, assuringly:
+
+"I don't know his motive, unless he felt he could protect her here
+himself; but I tell you, my boy, he can be trusted. Let me tell you
+something, Gail. When Esmond Clarenden and I were boys back in a New
+England college we knew two fellows from the Southwest whose fathers
+were in official circles at Washington. One was Felix Narveo,
+thoroughbred Mexican, thoroughbred gentleman, a bit lacking in
+initiative sometimes, for he came from the warmer, lazier lands, but as
+true as the compass in his character. The other fellow was Dick Verra,
+French father, English mother; I think he had a strain of Indian blood
+farther back somewhere, but he would have been a prince in any tribe or
+nation. A happy, wholesome, red-blooded, young fellow, with the world
+before him for his conquest.
+
+"We knew another fellow, too, Fred Ramer, self-willed, imperious,
+extravagant in his habits, greedy and unscrupulous; but he was handsome
+and masterful, with a compelling magnetism that made us admire him and
+bound us to him. He had never known what it meant to have a single wish
+denied him. And with his make-up, he would stop at nothing to have his
+own way, until his wilful pride and stubbornness and love of luxury
+ruined him. But in our college days we were his satellites. He was
+always in debt to all of us, for money was his only god and we never
+dared to press him for payment. The only one of us who ever overruled
+him was Dick Verra. But Dick was a born master of men. There was one
+other chum of ours, but I'll tell you about him later. Boys together, we
+had many escapades and some serious problems, until by the time our
+college days were over we were bound together by those ties that are
+made in jest and broken with choking voices and eyes full of tears."
+
+Jondo paused and I waited, silent, until he should continue.
+
+"Things happened to that little group of college men as time went on.
+You know your uncle's life, leading merchant of Kansas City and the
+Southwest; and mine, plainsman and freighter on the Santa Fe Trail.
+Felix Narveo's history is easily read. Esmond Clarenden came down here
+at the outbreak of the Mexican War, and together he and Narveo laid the
+foundation for the present trail commerce that is making the country at
+either end of it rich and strong. Dick Verra is now Father Josef." Jondo
+paused as if to gather force for the rest of the story. Then he said:
+
+"Back at college we all knew Mary Marchland, a beautiful Louisiana girl
+who visited in Washington and New England, and all of us were in love
+with her. When our life-lines crossed again Clarenden had come to St.
+Louis. About that time his two older brothers and their wives died
+suddenly of yellow fever, leaving you and Beverly alone. It was Felix
+Narveo who brought you up to St. Louis to your uncle."
+
+"I remember that. The steamboat, and the Spanish language, and Felix
+Narveo's face. I recalled that when I saw him years ago," I exclaimed.
+
+"You always were all eyes and ears, remembering names and faces, where
+Beverly would not recall anything," Jondo declared.
+
+"And what became of your Fred Ramer?" I asked.
+
+"He is Ferdinand Ramero here. He married Narveo's sister later. She is
+not the mother of Marcos, but a second wife. She owned a tract of land
+inherited from the Narveo estate down in the San Christobal country.
+There is a lonely ranch house in a picturesque canon, and many acres of
+grazing-land. She keeps it still as hers, although her stepson, Marcos,
+claims it now. It is for her sake that Narveo doesn't dare to move
+openly against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
+with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
+freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's why I
+knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at Pawnee Rock. I
+could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He joined the Catholic
+Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But the traits of his young
+manhood, intensified, are still his. He is handsome, and attractive, and
+rich, and influential, but he is also cold-blooded, and greedy for money
+until it is his ruling passion, villainously unscrupulous, and
+mercilessly unforgiving toward any one who opposes his will; and his
+capacity for undying hatred is appalling."
+
+And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of Eloise St.
+Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.
+
+"The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in his life
+that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he went mad with
+jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters than whisky and opium,
+once they get a man down."
+
+Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one who,
+from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an enemy and turn
+away.
+
+"When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her life. He
+came between her and the man she loved with such adroit cruelty that
+they were separated, and although they loved each other always, they
+never saw each other again. Through a terrible network of
+misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by the way, was the
+other college chum I spoke of just now. He and his foster-brother,
+Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father. But their guardian, the
+elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their property and there was bitter
+enmity between them and him. Theron and Mary were the parents of Eloise
+St. Vrain. It is no wonder that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland
+for a mother. Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his
+property fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend
+to Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy marriage. In
+that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give the estate to the
+Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died, nor where she is buried,
+except Fred and his confessor, Father Josef."
+
+"How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a truer
+eye and a sweeter smile than my big Jondo.
+
+"Fred Ramer was desperately in need of money when he was plotting to
+darken the life of Mary Marchland--that was just before the birth of
+Eloise--and through her sorrow to break the heart of the man whom she
+loved--I said we college boys were all in love with her, you remember.
+Let me make it short now. One night Fred's father was murdered, by whom
+was never exactly proven. But he was last seen alive with his ward,
+Theron St. Wain, who, with his foster-brother, Bertrand, thoroughly
+despised him for his plain robbery of their heritage.
+
+"The case was strong against Theron, for the evidence was very damaging,
+and it would have gone hard with him but for the foster-brother.
+Bertrand St. Wain took the guilt upon himself by disappearing suddenly.
+He was supposed to have drowned himself in the lower Mississippi, for
+his body, recognized only by some clothing, was recovered later in a
+drift and decently buried. So _he_ was effaced from the records of man."
+
+In the dim light Jondo's blue eyes were like dull steel and his face was
+a face of stone, but he continued:
+
+"Just here Clarenden comes into the story. He learned it through Felix
+Narveo, and Felix got it from the Mexicans themselves, that Fred Ramer
+had plotted with them to put his father out of the way--I said he was
+desperately in need of money--and to lay the crime on Theron St.
+Vrain, by whose disgrace the life of Mary Marchland would be blighted,
+and Fred would have his revenge and his father's money. Narveo was
+afraid to act against Ramer, but nothing ever scared Esmond Clarenden
+away from what he wanted to do. Through his friendship for St. Vrain, to
+whom some suspicion still clung, and that lost foster-brother, Bertrand,
+he turned the screws on Fred Ramer that drove him out of the country. He
+landed, finally, at Santa Fe, and became Ferdinand Ramero. He managed by
+his charming manners to enchant the sister of Felix Narveo--and you know
+the rest."
+
+Jondo paused.
+
+"Didn't Felix Narveo go to Fort Leavenworth once, just before Uncle
+Esmond brought us with him to Santa Fe?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, he went to warn Clarenden not to leave you there unprotected, for
+a band of Ramero's henchmen were on their way then to the Missouri
+River--we passed them at Council Grove--to kidnap you three and take you
+to old Mexico," Jondo said. "An example of Fred's efforts to get even
+with Clarenden and of the loyalty of Narveo to his old college chum. The
+same gang of Mexicans had kidnapped Little Blue Flower and given her to
+the Kiowas."
+
+"You told me that Uncle Esmond forced Ferdinand Ramero out of the
+country on account of a wrong done to you, Jondo," I reminded the big
+plainsman.
+
+"He did," Jondo replied. "I told you that we all loved Mary Marchland.
+Fred Ramer broke under his loss of her, and became the devil's own tool
+of hate and revenge, and what generally gets tied up with these sooner
+or later, a passion for money and irregular means of getting it. Money
+is as great an asset for hate as for love, and Fred sold his soul for it
+long ago. Clarenden came to the frontier and lost himself in the
+building of the plains commerce, and his heart he gave to the three
+orphan children to whom he gave a home. When New Mexico came under our
+flag Narveo came with it, a good citizen and a loyal patriot. He married
+a Mexican woman of culture and lives a contented life. Dick Verra went
+into the Church. I came to the plains, and the stimulus of danger, and
+the benediction of the open sky, and the healing touch of the prairie
+winds, and the solemn stillness of the great distances have made me
+something more of a man than I should have been. Maybe I was hurt the
+worst. Clarenden thought I was. Sometimes I think Dick Verra got the
+best of all of us."
+
+Jondo's voice trailed off into silence and I knew what his hurt
+was--that he was the man whom Mary Marchland had loved, from whom Fred
+Ramer, by his cruel machinations, had separated her--"_and although they
+loved each other always, they never saw each other again_." Poor Jondo!
+What a man among men this unknown freighter of the plains might have
+been--and what a loss to the plains in the best of the trail years if
+Jondo had never dared its dangers for the safety of the generations to
+come.
+
+But the thought of Eloise, driven out momentarily by Jondo's story, came
+rushing in again.
+
+"You said you put a ring around Ramero to keep him in Santa Fe. Can't we
+get Eloise outside of it?" I urged, anxiously.
+
+"Maybe I should have said that Father Josef put it around him for me,"
+Jondo replied. "He confessed his crimes fully to the Church. He couldn't
+get by Father Josef. Here he is much honored and secure and we let him
+alone. The disgrace he holds the secret of--he alone--is that the father
+of Eloise killed his father, the crime for which the foster-brother
+fell. Ramero as guardian of Eloise and her property legally could have
+kept her here. Only a man like Clarenden would have dared to take her
+away, though he had the pleading call of her mother's last wish. Gail, I
+have told you the heart-history of half a dozen men. If this had stopped
+with us we could forgive after a while, but it runs down to you and
+Beverly and Eloise and Marcos, who will carry out his father's plans to
+the letter. So the battle is all to be fought over again. Let me leave
+you a minute or two. I'll not be gone long."
+
+I sat alone, staring out at the shadowy court and, above it, the blue
+night-sky of New Mexico inlaid with stars, until a rush of feet in the
+hall and a shout of inquiry told me that Beverly Clarenden was hunting
+for me.
+
+Meantime the girl in Mexican dress, who had come out of the church with
+Father Josef when he came to greet Eloise and me, had passed unnoticed
+through the Plaza and out on the way leading to the northeast. Here she
+came to the blind adobe wall of La Garita, whose olden purpose one still
+may read in the many bullet-holes in its brown sides. Here she paused,
+and as the evening shadows lengthened the dress and wall blended their
+dull tones together.
+
+Beverly Clarenden, who had gone with Rex Krane up to Fort Marcy that
+evening, had left his companion to watch the sunset and dream of Mat
+back on the Missouri bluff, while he wandered down La Garita. He did not
+see the Mexican woman standing motionless, a dark splotch against a dun
+wall, until a soft Hopi voice called, eagerly, "Beverly, Beverly."
+
+The black scarf fell from the bright face, and Indian garb--not Po-a-be,
+the student of St. Ann's and the guest of the Clarenden home, with the
+white Grecian robe and silver headband set with coral pendants, as
+Beverly had seen her last in the side porch on the night of Mat's
+wedding, but Little Blue Flower, the Indian of the desert lands, stood
+before him.
+
+"Where the devil--I mean the holy saints and angels, did you come from?"
+Beverly cried, in delight, at seeing a familiar face.
+
+"I came here to do Father Josef some service. He has been good to me. I
+bring a message."
+
+She reached out her hand with a letter. Beverly took the letter and the
+hand. He put the message in his pocket, but he did not release the
+hand.
+
+"That's something for Jondo. I'll see that he gets it, all right. Tell
+me all about yourself now, Little Run-Off-and-Never-Come-Back." It was
+Beverly's way to make people love him, because he loved people.
+
+It was late at last, too late for prudence, older heads would agree,
+when these two separated, and my cousin came to pounce upon me in the
+hotel court to tell me of his adventure.
+
+"And I learned a lot of things," he added. "That Indian in the Plaza
+to-day is Santan, or Satan, dead sure; and you'd never guess, but he's
+the same redskin--Apache red--that was out at Agua Fria that time we
+were there long ago. The very same little sneak! He followed us clear to
+Bent's Fort. He put up a good story to Jondo, but I'll bet he was
+somebody's tool. You know what a critter he was there. But listen now!
+He's got his eye on Little Blue Flower. He's plain wild Injun, and she's
+a Saint Ann's scholar. Isn't that presumption, though! She's afraid of
+him, too. This country fairly teams with romance, doesn't it?"
+
+"Bev, don't you ever take anything seriously?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I guess I do. I found that Santan, dead loaded with jealousy,
+sneaking after us in the dark to-night when I took Little Blue Flower
+for a stroll. I took him seriously, and told him exactly where he'd
+find me next time he was looking for me. That I'd stand him up against
+La Garita and make a sieve out of him," Beverly said, carelessly.
+
+"Beverly Clarenden, you are a fool to get that Apache's ill-will," I
+cried.
+
+"I may be, but I'm no coward," Beverly retorted. "Oh, here comes Jondo.
+I've got a letter from Father Josef. Invitation to some churchly dinner,
+I expect."
+
+Beverly threw the letter into Jondo's hands and turned to leave us.
+
+"Wait a minute!" Jondo commanded, and my cousin halted in surprise.
+
+"When did you get this? I should have had it two hours ago," Jondo said,
+sternly. "Father Josef must have waited a long time up at the church
+door for his messenger to come back and bring him word from me."
+
+Beverly frankly told him the truth, as from childhood we had learned was
+the easiest way out of trouble.
+
+Jondo's smile came back to his eyes, but his lips did not smile as he
+said: "Gail, you can explain things to Bev. This is serious business,
+but it had to come sooner or later. The battle is on, and we'll fight it
+out. Ferdinand Ramero is determined that Eloise and his son shall be
+married early to-morrow morning. The bribe to the Church is one-half of
+the St. Vrain estate. The club over Eloise is the shame of some disgrace
+that he holds the key to. He will stop at nothing to have his own way,
+and he will stoop to any brutal means to secure it. He has a host of
+fellows ready at his call to do any crime for his sake. That's how far
+money and an ungovernable passion can lead a man. If I had known this
+sooner, we would have acted to-night."
+
+Beverly groaned.
+
+"Let me go and kill that man. There ought to be a bounty on such wild
+beasts," he declared.
+
+"He'd do that for you through a Mexican dagger, or an Apache arrow, if
+you got in his way," Jondo replied. "But what we must do is this: Twenty
+miles south on the San Christobal Arroyo there is a lonely ranch-house
+on the old Narveo estate, a forgotten place, but it is a veritable fort,
+built a hundred years ago, when every house here was a fort. To-morrow
+at daybreak you must start with Eloise and Sister Anita down there. I
+will see Father Josef later and tell him where I have sent you. Little
+Blue Flower will show you the way. It is a dangerous ride, and you must
+make it as quickly and as silently as possible. A bullet from some
+little canon could find you easily if Ramero should know your trail.
+Will you go?"
+
+There was no need for the question as Jondo well knew, but his face was
+bright with courage and hope, and a thankfulness he could not express
+shone in his eyes as he looked at us, big, stalwart, eager and unafraid.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+THE SANCTUARY ROCKS OF SAN CHRISTOBAL
+
+
+  Mark where she stands! Around her form I draw
+  The awful circle of our solemn church!
+  Set but a foot within that holy ground,
+  And on thy head--yea, though it wore a crown--
+  launch the curse of Rome.
+                                 --"RICHELIEU."
+
+
+The faint rose hue of early dawn was touching the highest peaks of the
+Sandia and Jemez mountain ranges, while the valley of the Rio Grande
+still lay asleep under dull night shadows, when five ponies and their
+riders left the door of San Miguel church and rode southward in the
+slowly paling gloom. In the stillness of the hour the ponies' feet,
+muffled in the sand of the way, seemed to clatter noisily, and their
+trappings creaked loudly in the dead silence of the place. Little Blue
+Flower, no longer in her Mexican dress, led the line. Behind her Beverly
+and the white-faced nun of St. Ann's rode side by side; and behind these
+came Eloise St. Vrain and myself. From the church door Jondo had watched
+us until we melted into the misty shadows of the trail.
+
+"Go carefully and fearlessly and ride hard if you must. But the
+struggle will be here with me to-day, not where you are," he assured us,
+when we started away.
+
+As he turned to leave the church, an Indian rose from the shadows beyond
+it and stepped before him.
+
+"You remember me, Santan, the Apache, at Fort Bent?" he questioned.
+
+Jondo looked keenly to be sure that his memory fitted the man before
+him.
+
+"Yes, you are Santan. You brought me a message from Father Josef once."
+
+The Indian's face did not change by the twitch of an eyelash as he
+replied.
+
+"I would bring another message from him. He would see you an hour later
+than you planned. The young riders, where shall I tell him they have
+gone?"
+
+"To the old ranch-house on the San Christobal Arroyo," Jondo replied.
+
+The Indian smiled, and turning quickly, he disappeared up the dark
+street. A sudden thrill shook Jondo.
+
+"Father Josef said I could trust that boy entirely. Surely old Dick
+Verra, part Indian himself, couldn't be mistaken. But that Apache lied
+to me. I know it now; and I told him where our boys are taking Eloise. I
+never made a blunder like that before. Damned fool that I am!"
+
+He ground his teeth in anger and disgust, as he sat down in the doorway
+of the church to await the coming of Ferdinand Ramero and his son,
+Marcos.
+
+Out on the trail our ponies beat off the miles with steady gait. As the
+way narrowed, we struck into single file, moving silently forward under
+the guidance of Little Blue Flower, now plunging into dark canons, where
+the trail was rocky and perilous, now climbing the steep sidling paths
+above the open plain. Morning came swiftly over the Gloriettas. Darkness
+turned to gray; shapeless masses took on distinctness; the night chill
+softened to the crisp breeze of dawn. Then came the rare June day in
+whose bright opening hour the crystal skies of New Mexico hung above us,
+and about us lay a landscape with radiant lights on the rich green of
+the mesa slopes, and gray levels atint with mother-of-pearl and gold.
+
+The Indian pueblos were astir. Mexican faces showed now and then at the
+doorways of far-scattered groups of adobe huts. Outside of these all was
+silence--a motionless land full of wild, rugged beauty, and thrilling
+with the spell of mystery and glamour of romance. And overbrooding all,
+the spirit of the past, that made each winding trail a footpath of the
+centuries; each sheer cliff a watch-tower of the ages; each wide sandy
+plain, a rallying-ground for the tribes long ago gone to dust; each
+narrow valley a battle-field for the death-struggle between the dusky
+sovereigns of a wilderness kingdom and the pale-faced conquerors of the
+coat of mail and the dominant soul. The sense of danger lessened with
+distance and no knight of old Spain ever rode more proudly in the days
+of chivalry than Beverly Clarenden and I rode that morning, fearing
+nothing, sure of our power to protect the golden-haired girl, thrilled
+by this strange flight through a land of strange scenes fraught with the
+charm of daring and danger. Beverly rode forward now with Little Blue
+Flower. I did not wonder at her spell over him, for she was in her own
+land now, and she matched its picturesque phases with her own
+picturesque racial charm.
+
+I rode beside Eloise, forgetting, in the sweet air and glorious June
+sunlight, that we were following an uncertain trail away from certain
+trouble.
+
+The white-faced nun in her somber dress, rode between, with serious
+countenance and downcast eyes.
+
+"What happened to you, Little Lees, after I left you?" I asked, as we
+trotted forward toward the San Christobal valley.
+
+"Everything, Gail," she replied, looking up at me with shy, sad eyes.
+"First Ferdinand Ramero came to me with the command that I should
+consent to be married this morning. By this time I would have been
+Marcos' wife." She shivered as she spoke. "I can't tell you the way of
+it, it was so final, so cruel, so impossible to oppose. Ferdinand's eyes
+cut like steel when they look at you, and you know he will do more than
+he threatens. He said the Church demanded one-half of my little fortune
+and that he could give it the other half if he chose. He is as imperious
+as a tyrant in his pleasanter moods; in his anger he is a maniac. I
+believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
+threats of disgracing me were terrible."
+
+"But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her wretched
+memory.
+
+"I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has an
+Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her come in to
+see me late last night or I should not have been here now. I had almost
+given up when she brought me word that you and Beverly would meet me at
+the church at daylight. I have not slept since. What will be the end of
+this day's work? Isn't there safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the
+fair, sad face with the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.
+
+"Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight it out
+in Santa Fe to-day. It is our work to go where the Hopi blossom leads
+us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let anything happen to you."
+
+I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall that
+morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my abounding vigor and
+confidence in my courage and my powers.
+
+Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked the way
+of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande. On either hand tall
+cliffs, huge weather-worn points of rock, and steep slopes, spotted with
+evergreen shrubs, bordered the river's course. The silent bigness of
+every feature of the landscape and the beauty of the June day in the
+June time of our lives, and our sense of security in having escaped the
+shadows and strife in Santa Fe, all combined to make us free-spirited.
+Only Sister Anita rode, alert and sorrowful-faced, between Beverly and
+the gaily-robed Indian girl, and myself with Eloise, the beautiful.
+
+As we rounded a bend in the narrow valley, Little Blue Flower halted us,
+and pointing to an old half-ruined rock structure beside the stream, she
+said:
+
+"See, yonder is the chapel where Father Josef comes sometimes to pray
+for the souls of the Hopi people. The house we go to find is farther up
+a canon over there."
+
+"I remember the place," Eloise declared. "Father Josef brought me here
+once and left me awhile. I wasn't afraid, although I was alone, for he
+told me I was always safe in a church. But I was never allowed to come
+back again."
+
+Sister Anita crossed herself and, glancing over her shoulder, gave a
+sharp cry of alarm. We turned about to see a group, of horsemen dashing
+madly up the trail behind us. The wind in their faces blew back the
+great cloud of dust made by their horses hoofs, hiding their number and
+the way behind them. Their steeds were wet with foam, but their riders
+spurred them on with merciless fury. In the forefront Ferdinand Ramero's
+tall form, towering above the small statured evil-faced Mexican band he
+was leading, was outlined against the dust-cloud following them, and I
+caught the glint of light on his drawn revolver.
+
+"Ride! Ride like the devil!" Beverly shouted.
+
+At the same time he and the Hopi girl whirled out and, letting us pass,
+fell in as a rear guard between us and our pursuers. And the race was
+on.
+
+Jondo had said the lonely ranch-house whither we were tending was as
+strong as a fort. Surely it could not be far away, and our ponies were
+not spent with hard riding. Before us the valley narrowed slightly, and
+on its rim jagged rock cliffs rose through three hundred feet of
+earthquake-burst, volcanic-tossed confusion to the high tableland
+beyond.
+
+As we strained forward, half a dozen Mexican horsemen suddenly appeared
+on the trail before us to cut off our advance. Down between us and the
+new enemy stood the old stone chapel, like the shadow of a great rock in
+a weary land, where for two hundred long years it had set up an altar to
+the Most High on this lonely savage plain.
+
+"The chapel! The chapel! We must run to that now," cried Sister Anita.
+
+Her long veil was streaming back in the wind, and her rosary and
+crucifix beating about her shoulders with the hard riding, but her white
+face was brave with a divine trust. Yet even as she urged us I saw how
+imposible was her plea, for the men in front were already nearer
+to the place than we were. At the same time a pony dashed up beside me,
+and Little Blue Flower's voice rang in my ears.
+
+"The rocks! Climb up and hide in the rocks!" She dropped back on one
+side of Beverly, with Sister Anita on the other, guarding our rear. As
+I turned our flight toward the cliff, I caught sight of an Indian in a
+wedge of rock just across the river, and I heard the singing flight of
+an arrow behind me, followed almost instantly by another arrow. I looked
+back to see Sister Anita's pony staggering and rearing in agony, with
+Little Blue Flower trying vainly to catch its bridle-rein, and Sister
+Anita, clutching wildly at her rosary, a great stream of blood flowing
+from an arrow wound in her neck.
+
+Men think swiftly in moments like these. The impulse to halt, and the
+duty to press on for the protection of the girl beside me, holding me in
+doubt. Instantly I saw the dark crew, with Ferdinand Ramero leading
+fiercely forward, almost upon us, and I heard Beverly Clarenden's voice
+filling the valley--"Run, Gail, run! You can beat 'em up there."
+
+It was a cry of insistences and assurances and power, and withal there
+was that minor tone of sympathy which had sounded in the boy's defiant
+voice long ago in the gray-black shadows below Pawnee Rock, when his
+chivalric soul had been stirred by the cruel wrongs of Little Blue
+Flower and he had cried:
+
+"Uncle Esmond, let's take her, and take our chances."
+
+I knew in a flash that the three behind us were cut off, and Eloise St.
+Vrain and I pressed on alone. We crossed the narrow strip of rising
+ground to where the first rocks lay as they had fallen from the cliff
+above, split off by some titanic agony of nature. Up and up we went, our
+ponies stumbling now and then, but almost as surefooted as men, as they
+climbed the narrow way. Now the rocks hid us from the plain as we crept
+sturdily through narrow crevices, and now we clambered up an open path
+where nothing concealed our way. But higher still and higher, foot, by
+foot we pressed, while with oath and growl behind us came our pursuers.
+
+At last we could ride no farther, and the miracle was that our ponies
+could have climbed so far. Above us huge slabs of stone, by some
+internal cataclysm hurled into fragments of unguessed tons of weight,
+seemed poised in air, about to topple down upon the plain below. Between
+these wild, irregular masses a narrow footing zigzagged upward to still
+other wild, irregular masses, a footing of long leaps in cramped spaces
+between sharp edges of upright clefts, all gigantic, unbending, now
+shielding by their immense angles, now standing sheer and stark before
+us, casting no shadows to cover us from the great white glare of the
+New-Mexican day.
+
+I have said no man knows where his mind will run in moments of peril. As
+we left our ponies and clambered up and up in hope of safety somewhere,
+the face of the rocks cut and carved by the rude stone tools of a race
+long perished, seemed to hold groups of living things staring at us and
+pointing the way. And there was no end to these crude pictographs. Over
+and over and over--the human hand, the track of the little road-runner
+bird, the plumed serpent coiled or in waving line, the human form with
+the square body and round head, with staring circles for eyes and mouth,
+and straight-line limbs.
+
+We were fleeing for safety through the sacred aisles of a people God had
+made; and when they served His purpose no longer, they had perished. I
+did not think of them so that morning. I thought only of some
+hiding-place, some inaccessible point where nothing could reach the girl
+I must protect. But these crawling serpents, cut in the rock surfaces,
+crawled on and on. These human hands, poor detached hands, were lifted
+up in mute token of what had gone before. These two-eyed, one-mouthed
+circles on heads fast to body-boxes, from which waved tentacle limbs,
+jigged by us, to give place to other coiled or crawling serpents and
+their companion carvings, with the track of the swift road-runner
+skipping by us everywhere.
+
+At last, with bleeding hands and torn clothing, we stood on a level rock
+like a tiny mesa set out from the high summit of the cliff.
+
+Eloise sat down at my feet as I looked back eagerly over the precipitous
+way we had come, and watched the band of Mexicans less rapidly swarming
+up the same steep, devious trail.
+
+Three hundred feet below us lay the plain with the thin current of the
+San Christobal River sparkling here and there in the sunlight. The black
+spot on the trail that scarcely moved must be Beverly and Little Blue
+Flower with Sister Anita. No, there was only the Indian girl there, and
+something moving in and out of the shadow near them. I could not see for
+the intervening rocks.
+
+"Gail! Gail! You will not let them take you. You will not leave me,"
+Eloise moaned.
+
+And I was one against a dozen. I stooped to where she sat and gently
+lifted her limp white hand, saying:
+
+"Eloise, I was on a rock like this a night and a day alone on the
+prairie. I could not move nor cry out. But something inside told me to
+'hold fast'--the old law of the trail. You must do that with me now."
+
+A shout broke over the valley and the rocks about us seemed suddenly to
+grow men, as if every pictograph of the old stone age had become a
+sentient thing, a being with a Mexican dress, and the soul of a devil.
+Just across a narrow chasm, a little below us, Ferdinand Ramero stood in
+all the insolence of a conqueror, with a smile that showed his white
+teeth, and in his steely eyes was the glitter of a snake about to
+spring.
+
+"You have given us a hard race. By Jove, you rode magnificently and
+climbed heroically. I admire you for it. It is fine to bring down game
+like you, Clarenden. You have your uncle's spirit, and a six-foot body
+that dwarfs his short stature. And we come as gentlemen only, if we can
+deal with a gentleman. It wasn't our men who struck your nun down there.
+But if you, young man, dare to show one ounce of fighting spirit now,
+behind you on the rocks--don't look--as I lift my hand are my good
+friends who will put a bullet into the brain beneath that golden hair,
+and you will follow. Being a game-cock cannot help you now. It will only
+hasten things. Deliver that girl to me at once, or my men will close in
+upon you and no power on earth can save you."
+
+Eloise had sprung to her feet and stood beside me, and both of us knew
+the helplessness of our plight. A startling picture it must have been,
+and one the cliffs above the San Christobal will hardly see again: the
+blue June sky arched overhead, unscarred by a single cloud-fleck, the
+yellow plain winding between the high picturesque cliffs, where silence
+broods all through the long hours of the sunny day; the pictured rocks
+with their furnace-blackened faces white--outlined with the story of the
+dim beginnings of human strivings. And standing alone and defenseless on
+the little table of stone, as if for sacrifice, the tall, stalwart young
+plainsman and the beautiful girl with her golden hair in waving masses
+about her uncovered head, her sweet face white as the face of the dying
+nun beside the sandy arroyo below us, her big dark eyes full of a
+strange fire.
+
+"I order you to close in and take these two at once." The imperious
+command rang out, and the rocks across the valley must have echoed its
+haughty tone.
+
+"And I order you to halt."
+
+The voice of Father Josef, clear and rich and powerful, burst upon the
+silence like cathedral music on the still midnight air. The priest's
+tall form rose up on a great mass of rock across the cleft before
+us--Father Josef with bared head and flashing eyes and a physique of
+power.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero turned like a lion at bay. "You are one man. My force
+number a full dozen. Move on," he ordered.
+
+Again the voice of Father Josef ruled the listening ears.
+
+"Since the days of old the Church has had the power to guard all that
+come within the shelter of the holy sanctuary. And to the Church of God
+was given also long ago the might to protect, by sanctuary privilege,
+the needy and the defenseless. Ferdinand Ramero, note that little table
+of rock where those two stand helpless in your grasp. Around them now I
+throw, as I have power to throw, the sacred circle of our Holy Church in
+sanctuary shelter. Who dares to step inside it will be accursed in the
+sight of God."
+
+Never, never will I live through another moment like to that, nor see
+the power of the Unseen rule things that are seen with such unbreakable
+strength.
+
+The Mexicans dropped to their knees in humble prayer, and Ferdinand
+Ramero seemed turned to a man of stone. A hand was gently laid upon my
+arm and Jondo and Rex Krane stood beside us. A voice far off was
+sounding in my ears.
+
+"Go back to your homes and meet me at the church to-morrow night. You,
+Ferdinand Ramero, go now to the chapel yonder and wait until I come."
+
+What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+FINISHING TOUCHES
+
+     "_Yet there be certain times in a young man's life when through
+     great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away so
+     that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of
+     manhood."_
+                                                          --KIPLING.
+
+
+The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San Christobal
+Valley, and there was not a single cloud in the June skies to throw a
+softening shadow on the yellow plain. A little group of Mexicans, riding
+northward with sullen faces, urged on their jaded ponies viciously as
+they thought of the gold that was to have been paid them for this
+morning's work, and of the gold that to-morrow night must go to pay the
+priest who should shrive them; and they had nothing gained wherewith to
+pay. Their leader, whom they had served, had been trapped in his own
+game, and they felt themselves abused and deceived.
+
+Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the door of
+the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group coming slowly
+toward him: Ferdinand Ramero, riding like a captured but unconquered
+king, his head erect, his flashing eyes seeing nobody; Jondo who could
+make the shabbiest piece of horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it,
+his tanned cheek flushed, and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking
+out through his dark-blue eyes; Eloise, drooping like a white flower,
+but brave of spirit now, sure that her grief and anxiety would be lifted
+somehow. I rode beside her, glad to catch the faint smile in her eyes
+when she looked at me. And last of all, Rex Krane, with the same old
+Yankee spirit, quick to help a fellow-man and oblivious to personal
+danger. So we all came to the chapel, but at the door Rex wheeled and
+rode away, muttering, as he passed me:
+
+"I've got business to look after, and not a darned thing to confess."
+
+And Beverly! He was not with us.
+
+When Rex Krane told his bride good-by up in the Clarenden home on the
+Missouri bluff, Mat had whispered one last request:
+
+"Look after Bev. He never sees danger for himself, nor takes anything
+seriously, least of all an enemy, whom he will befriend, and make a joke
+of it."
+
+And so it happened that Rex had stayed behind to care for Beverly's
+arrow wound when Bill Banney had gone out with Jondo on the Kiowa trail
+to search for me this side of Pawnee Rock.
+
+So also it happened that Rex had strolled down from Fort Marcy the night
+before, in time to see Beverly and the girl in the Mexican dress
+loitering along the brown front of La Garita. And his keen eyes had
+caught sight of Santan crouching in an angle of the wall, watching them.
+
+"Indians and Mexes don't mix a lot. And Bev oughtn't mix with either
+one," Rex commented. "I'll line the boy up for review to-morrow, so Mat
+won't say I've neglected him."
+
+But the Yankee took the precaution to follow the trail to the Indian's
+possible abiding-place on the outskirts of Santa Fe. And it was Rex who
+most aided Jondo in finding that the Indian had gone with Ramero's men
+northward.
+
+"That fellow is Santan, of Fort Bent, Rex," Jondo said.
+
+"Yes, you thought he was _Santa_ and I took him for _Satan_ then. We
+missed out on which to knock out of him. Bev won't care nothin' about
+his name. He will knock hell out of him if he gets in that Clarenden
+boy's way," Rex had replied.
+
+At the chapel door now the Yankee turned away and rode down the trail
+toward the little angle where an Indian arrow had whizzed at our party
+an hour before.
+
+In the shadow of a fallen mass of rock below the cliff Little Blue
+Flower had spread her blanket, with Beverly's coat tucked under it in a
+roll for a pillow, and now she sat beside the dying nun, holding the
+crucifix to Sister Anita's lips. The Indian girl's hands were
+blood-stained and the nun's black veil and gown were disheveled, and her
+white head-dress and coif were soaked with gore. But her white face was
+full of peace as the light faded from her eyes.
+
+And Beverly! The boy forgot the rest of the world when one of the
+Apache's arrows struck down the pony and the other pierced Sister
+Anita's neck. Tenderly as a mother would lift a babe he quickly carried
+the stricken woman to the shelter of the rock, and with one glance at
+her he turned away.
+
+"You can do all that she needs done for her. Give her her cross to
+hold," he said, gently, to Little Blue Flower.
+
+Then he sprang up and dashed across the river, splashing the bright
+waters as he leaped to the farther side where Santan stood concealed,
+waiting for the return of Ramero's Mexicans.
+
+At the sound of Beverly's feet he leaped to the open just in time to
+meet Beverly's fist square between the eyes.
+
+"Take that, you dirty dog, to shoot down an innocent nun. And that!"
+Beverly followed his first blow with another.
+
+The Apache, who had reeled back with the weight of the boy's iron fist,
+was too quick for the second thrust, struggling to get hold of his
+arrows and his scalping-knife. But the space was too narrow and Beverly
+was upon him with a shout.
+
+"I told you I'd make a sieve or you the next time you tried to see me,
+and I'm going to do it."
+
+He seized the Indian's knife and flung it clear into the river, where
+it stuck upright in the sands of the bed, parting the little stream of
+water gurgling against it; and with a powerful grip on the Apache's
+shoulders he wrenched the arrows from their place and tramped on them
+with his heavy boot.
+
+The Indian's surprise and submission were gone in a flash, and the two
+clinched in combat.
+
+On the one hand, jealousy, the inherited hatred of a mistreated race,
+the savage instinct, a gloating joy in brute strife, blood-lust, and a
+dogged will to trample in the dirt the man who made the sun shine black
+for the Apache. On the other hand, a mad rage, a sense of insult, a
+righteous greed for vengeance for a cruel deed against an innocent
+woman, and all the superiority of a dominant people. The one would
+conquer a powerful enemy, the other would exterminate a despicable and
+dangerous pest.
+
+Back and forth across the narrow space hidden from the trail by fallen
+rock they threshed like beasts of prey. The Apache had the swiftness of
+the snake, his muscles were like steel springs, and there was no rule of
+honorable warfare in his code. He bit and clawed and pinched and
+scratched and choked and wrenched, with the grim face and burning eyes
+of a murderer. But the Saxon youth, slower of motion, heavier of bone
+and muscle, with a grip like iron and a stony endurance, with pride in a
+conquest by sheer clean skill, and with a purpose, not to take life, but
+to humble and avenge, hammered back blow for blow; and there was
+nothing for many minutes to show which was offensive and which
+defensive.
+
+As the struggle raged on, the one grew more furious and the other more
+self-confident.
+
+"Oh, I'll make you eat dust yet!" Beverly cried, as Santan in triumph
+flung him backward and sprang upon his prostrate form.
+
+They clinched again, and with a mighty surge of strength my cousin
+lifted himself, and the Indian with him, and in the next fall Beverly
+had his antagonist gripped and helpless.
+
+"I can choke you out now as easy as you shot that arrow. Say your
+prayers." He fairly growled out the words.
+
+"I didn't aim at her," the Apache half whined, half boasted. "I wanted
+you."
+
+At that moment Beverly, spent, bruised, and bleeding with fighting and
+surcharged with the lust of combat, felt all the instinct of murder
+urging him on to utterly destroy a poison-fanged foe to humanity. At
+Santan's words he paused and, flinging back the hair from his forehead,
+he caught his breath and his better self in the same heart-beat. And the
+instinct of the gentleman--he was Esmond Clarenden's brother's son--held
+the destroying hand.
+
+"You aimed at me! Well, learn your lesson on that right now. Promise
+never to play the fool that way again. Promise the everlasting God's
+truth, or here you go."
+
+The boy's clutch tightened on Santan's throat. "By all that's holy,
+you'll go to your happy hunting-ground _right now, unless you do_!" He
+growled out the words, and his blazing eyes glared threateningly at his
+fallen enemy.
+
+"I promise!" Santan muttered, gasping for breath.
+
+"You didn't mean to kill the nun? Then you'll go with me and ask her to
+forgive you before she dies. You will. You needn't try to get away from
+me. I let you thrash your strength out before we came to this
+settlement. Be still!" Beverly commanded, as Santan made a mad effort to
+release himself.
+
+"Hurry up, and remember she is dying. Go softly and speak gently, or by
+the God of heaven, you'll go with her to the Judgment Seat to answer for
+that deed right now!"
+
+Slowly the two rose. Their clothes were torn, their hair disheveled, the
+ground at their feet was red with their blood. They were as bitter, as
+distrustful now as when their struggle began. For brute force never
+conquers anything. It can only hold in check by fear of its power to
+destroy the body. Above the iron fist of the fighter, and the sword and
+cannon of the soldier, stands the risen Christ who carried his own cross
+up Mount Calvary--and "there they crucified him."
+
+The two young men, spent with their struggle, their faces stained with
+dirt and bloody sweat, crossed the river and sought the shadowy place
+where Little Blue Flower sat beside Sister Anita. Twice Santan tried to
+escape, and twice Beverly brought him quickly to his place. It must
+have been here that I caught sight of them from the rock above.
+
+"One more move like that and the ghost of Sister Anita will walk behind
+you on every trail you follow as long as your flat feet hit the earth,"
+Beverly declared.
+
+"All Indians are afraid of ghosts and I was just too tired to fight any
+more," he said to me afterward when he told me the story of that hour by
+the San Christobal River.
+
+Sister Anita lay with wide-open eyes, her hands moving feebly as she
+clutched at her crucifix. Her hour was almost spent.
+
+Santan stood motionless before her, as Beverly with a grip on his arm
+said, firmly:
+
+"Tell her you did not aim at her, and ask her to forgive you. It will
+help to save your own soul sometime, maybe."
+
+Santan looked at Little Blue Flower. But she gave no heed to him as she
+put the dropped crucifix into the weakening fingers. Murder, as such, is
+as horrifying to the gentle Hopi tribe as it is sport for the cruel
+Apache.
+
+Beverly loosed his hold now.
+
+"I did not want to hurt you. Forgive me!" Santan said, slowly, as though
+each word were plucked from him by red-hot pincers.
+
+Sister Anita heard and turned her eyes.
+
+"Kneel down and tell her again," Beverly said, more gently.
+
+The Apache dropped on his knees beside the dying woman and repeated his
+words. Sister Anita smiled sweetly.
+
+"Heaven will forgive you even as I do," she murmured, and closed her
+eyes.
+
+"Go softly. This is sacred ground," my cousin said.
+
+The Indian rose and passed silently down the trail, leaving Little Blue
+Flower and Beverly Clarenden together with the dead. At the stream he
+paused and pulled his knife from the sands beneath the trickling waters,
+and then went on his way.
+
+But an Indian never forgets.
+
+Rex Krane, who had hurried hither from the chapel, closed the eyes and
+folded the thin hands of the martyred woman, and sent Beverly forward
+for help to dispose of the garment of clay that had been Sister Anita.
+From that day something manly and serious came into Beverly Clarenden's
+face to stay, but his sense of humor and his fearlessness were
+unchanged.
+
+That was a solemn hour in the shadow of the rock down in that yellow
+valley, but beautiful in its forgiving triumph. We who had gathered in
+the dimly lighted chapel had an hour more solemn for that it was made up
+of such dramatic minutes as change the trend of life-trails for all the
+years to come.
+
+The chapel was very old. They tell me that only a broken portion of the
+circular wall about the altar stands there to-day, a lonely monument to
+some holy padre's faith and courage and sacrifice in the forgotten
+years when, in far Hesperia, men dreamed of a Quivera and found only a
+Calvary.
+
+It may be that I, Gail Clarenden, was also changed as I listened to the
+deliberations of that day; that something of youth gave place for the
+stronger manhood that should stay me through the years that came after.
+
+Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come back to
+it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and rough climb
+among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled carelessly on her white
+brow and rippled about her shapely head. I used to wonder what setting
+fitted her beauty best--why wonder that about any beautiful woman?--but
+the gracious loveliness of this woman was never more appealing to me
+than in the soft light and sacred atmosphere of the church.
+
+Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water and
+coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we came in to
+his presence.
+
+"Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a child I
+tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a woman, you must
+still be protected, but you must live your own life and choose for
+yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be crushed by it. You must take
+up your cross and bear it. It is for this that I have called you back to
+New Mexico at this time. But remember, my daughter, that life is not
+given to us for defeat, but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles;
+not for idle cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."
+
+I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years were
+full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had brought him to the
+priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of Father Josef's voice,
+somehow, to me, he stood for success, not failure.
+
+Eloise bowed her head and listened.
+
+"You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own heritage,
+nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has been offered a
+bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies no altars nor extends
+the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ. Your property is your own to
+use for the holy purposes of a goodly life wherever your days may lead
+you; and whatever the civil law may grant of power to control it for
+you, you shall no longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that
+it shall henceforth be yours."
+
+Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to Ferdinand
+Ramero.
+
+"You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this estate,
+whose revenue made your father and yourself to be accounted rich, and
+upon which your son has been allowed to build up a life expectation; and
+though on account of it, you go forth a poor man in wordly goods, you
+may go out rich in the blessing of restoration and repentance."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero's steel eyes were fixed like the eyes of a snake on the
+holy man's face. Restoration and repentance do not belong behind eyes
+like that.
+
+"I can fight you in the courts. You and your Church may go to the
+devil;" he seemed to hiss rather than to speak these words.
+
+"We do go to him every day to bring back souls like yours," Father
+Josef's voice was calm. "I have waited a long time for you to repent.
+You can go to the courts, but you will not do it. For the sake of your
+wife, Gloria Ramero, and Felix Narveo, her brother, we do not move
+against you, and you dare not move for yourself, because your own record
+will not bear the light of legal investigation."
+
+Ferdinand Ramero sprang up, the blaze of passion, uncontrolled through
+all his years, bursting forth in the tragedy of the hour. Eloise was
+right. In his anger he was a maniac.
+
+"You dare to threaten me! You pen me in a corner to stab me to death!
+You hold disgrace and miserable poverty over my head, and cant of
+restoration and repentance! Not until here you name each thing that you
+count against me, and I have met them point by point, will I restore. I
+never will repent!"
+
+In the vehemence of anger, Ramero was the embodiment of the dramatic
+force of unrestraint, and withal he was handsome, with a controlling
+magnetism even in his hour of downfall.
+
+Jondo had said that Father Josef had somewhere back a strain of Indian
+blood in his veins. It must have been this that gave the fiber of self
+control to his countenance as he looked with pitying eyes at Jondo and
+Eloise St. Vrain.
+
+"The hour is struck," he said, sadly. "And you shall hear your record,
+point by point, because you ask it now. First: you have retained,
+controlled, misused, and at last embezzled the fortune of Theron St.
+Vrain, as it was retained, controlled, misused, and embezzled by your
+father, Henry Ramer, in his lifetime. Any case in civil courts must show
+how the heritage of Eloise St. Vrain, heir to Theron St. Vrain at the
+death of her mother--"
+
+"Not until the death of her mother--" Ferdinand Ramero broke in,
+hoarsely.
+
+For the first time to-day the priest's cheek paled, but his voice was
+unbroken as he continued:
+
+"I would have been kinder for your own sake. You desire otherwise. Yes,
+only after the death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain could you dictate
+concerning her daughter's affairs, with most questionable legality even
+then. Mary Marchland St. Vrain is not dead."
+
+The chapel was as silent as the grave. My heart stood still. Before me
+was Jondo, big, strong, self-controlled, inured to the tragic deeds of
+the epic years of the West. No pen of mine will ever make the picture of
+Jondo's face at these words of Father Josef.
+
+Eloise turned deathly pale, and her dark eyes opened wide, seeing
+nothing. It was not I who comforted her, but Jondo, who put his strong
+arm about her, and she leaned against his shoulder. Father and daughter
+in spirit, stricken to the heart.
+
+"For many years she has lived in that lonely ranch-house on the Narveo
+grant in the little canon up the San Christobal Arroyo. When the fever
+left her with memory darkened forever, you recorded her as dead. But
+your wife, Gloria Ramero, spared no pains to make her comfortable. She
+has never known a want, nor lived through one unhappy hour, because she
+has forgotten."
+
+"A priest, confessor for men's inmost souls, who babbles all he knows! I
+wonder that this roof does not fall on you and strike you dead before
+this altar." Ferdinand Ramero's voice rose to a shout.
+
+"It was too strongly built by one who knew men's inmost souls, and what
+they needed most," Father Josef replied. "You drove me to this by your
+insistence. I would have shielded you--and these."
+
+He turned to Eloise and Jondo as he spoke.
+
+"One more point, since you hold it ready to spring when I am through.
+You stand accused of plotting for your father's murder. The evidence
+still holds, and some men who rode with you to-day to seize this gentle
+girl and drag her back to a marriage with your son--and save your
+ill-gotten gold thereby--some of these men who will confess to me and do
+penance to-morrow night, are the same men who long ago confessed to
+other crimes--you can guess what they were.
+
+"It pays well to repent before such a holy tattler as yourself."
+Ramero's blue eyes burned deep as their fire was centered on the priest.
+
+"These are the counts against you," Father Josef said in review,
+ignoring the last outburst of wrath. "A life of ease and inheritance
+through money not your own, nor even rightly yours to control. A
+stricken woman listed with the dead, whose memory might have come
+again--God knows--if but the loving touch of childish hands had long ago
+been on her hands. It is years too late for all that now. A brave young
+ward rescued from your direct control by Esmond Clarenden's force of
+will and daring to do the right. You know that last pleading cry of Mary
+Marchland's, for Jondo to protect her child, and how Clarenden, for love
+of this brave man, came to New Mexico on perilous trails to take the
+little Eloise from you. And lastly in this matter, the threats to force
+a marriage unholy in God's sight, because no love could go with it. Your
+mad chase and villainous intention to use brute force to secure your
+will out yonder on the rocks above the cliff. You have debauched an
+Apache boy, making him your tool and spy. You sanctioned the seizing of
+a Hopi girl whose parents you permitted to be murdered, and their child
+sold into slavery among foreign tribes. You have stirred up and kept
+alive a feud of hatred and revenge among the Kiowa people against the
+life and property of Esmond Clarenden and all who belong to him. And,
+added to all these, you stand to-day a patricide in spirit, accused of
+plotting for the murder of your own father. Do not these things call
+for restoration and repentance?"
+
+Ferdinand Ramero rose to his feet and stood in the aisle near the door.
+His face hardened, and all the suave polish and cool concentration and
+dominant magnetism fell away. What remained was the man as shaped by the
+ruling passions of years, from whose control only divine power could
+bring deliverance. And when he spoke there was a remorseless cruelty and
+selfishness in his low, even tones.
+
+"You have called me a plotter for my father's life--based on some lying
+Mexican's love of blackmail. You do not even try to prove your charge.
+The man who would have killed him was Theron St. Vrain, and his brother,
+Bertrand. That Theron was disgraced by the fact you know very well, and
+the blackness of it drove him to an early grave. So this young lady
+here, whom I would have shielded from this stain upon her name in the
+marriage to my son, may know the truth about her father. He was what
+you, Father Josef, try to prove me to be."
+
+He paused as if to gather venom for his last shaft.
+
+"These two, Theron and Bertrand, were equally guilty, but through tricks
+of their own, Theron escaped and Bertrand took the whole crime on
+himself. He disappeared and paid the penalty by his death. His body was
+recovered from the river and placed in an unmarked grave. Why go back to
+that now? Because Bertrand St. Vrain's clothes alone on some poor
+drowned unknown man were buried. Bertrand himself sits here beside his
+niece, Eloise St. Vrain. John Doe to the world, the man who lives
+without a name, and dares not sign a business document, a walking dead
+man. I could even pity him if he were real. But who can pity nothing?"
+
+A look of defiance came into the man's glittering eyes as he took one
+step nearer to the door and continued:
+
+"Esmond Clarenden drove me out of the United States with threats of
+implicating me in the death of my father, and I knew his power and
+brutal daring to do anything he chose to do. It was but his wish to have
+revenge for this nameless thing--"
+
+The scorn of Ramero's eyes and voice as he looked at Jondo were
+withering.
+
+"And this thing keeps me here by threats of attacks, even when he knows
+that by such attacks he will reveal himself. It has been a grim game."
+Something of a grin showed all of the man's fine teeth. "A grim game,
+and never played to a finish till now. I leave it to you, Father Josef,
+to judge who has been the stronger and who comes out of it victor. I
+make restoration--of what? I leave the St. Vrain money that I have
+guarded for Eloise, the daughter of the man who killed, or helped to
+kill, my father. You can control it now, among you: Clarenden, already
+rich; your Church, notorious in its robbery of the poor by enriching its
+coffers; or this uncle here, who is dead and buried in an unknown grave.
+That is all the restoration I can make. Repentance, I do not know what
+that word means. Keep it for the poor devils you will gather in
+to-morrow night to be shriven. They need it. I do not."
+
+He turned and strode out of the church and, mounting his horse, rode
+like a madman up the yellow valley of the San Christobal. In after years
+I could find no term to so well describe that last act as the words of
+Beverly Clarenden, who came to the chapel just in time to hear Ferdinand
+Ramero's closing declaration, and to see his black scowl and scornful
+air, as, in a royal madness, he defied the power of man and denounced
+the all-pitying love that is big enough for the most sinful.
+
+"It was Paradise lost," Beverly declared, "and Satan falling clear to
+hell before the Archangel's flaming sword. Only he went east and the
+real Satan dropped down to his place. But they will meet up somewhere,
+Ramero and the real one, and not be able to tell each other apart."
+
+And Jondo. My boyhood idol, brave, gentle, unselfish, able everywhere!
+Jondo, who had kept my toddling feet from stumbling, who had taught me
+to ride and swim and shoot, who had made me wise in plains lore, and
+manly and clean among the rough and vulgar things of the Missouri
+frontier. Jondo, whose big, cool hand had touched my feverish face,
+whose deep blue eyes had looked love into my eyes when I lay dying on
+Pawnee Rock! A man without a name! A murderer who had by a trick escaped
+the law, and must walk evermore unknown among his fellow-men! Something
+went out of my life as I looked at him. The boy in me was burned and
+seared away, and only the man-to-be, was left.
+
+He offered no word of defense from the accusation against him, nor made
+a plea of innocence, but sat looking straight at Father Josef, who
+looked at him as if expecting nothing. And as they gazed into each
+other's eyes, a something strong and beautiful swept the face of each. I
+could not understand it, and I was young. My lifetime hero had turned to
+nothingness before my eyes. The world was full of evil. I hated it and
+all that in it was, my trusting, foolish, short-sighted self most of
+all.
+
+But Eloise--the heart of woman is past understanding--Eloise turned to
+the man beside her and, putting both arms around his neck, she pressed
+one fair cheek against his brown bearded one, and kissed him gently on
+the forehead. Then turning to Father Josef, no longer the dependent,
+clinging maiden, but the loving woman, strong and sure of will, she
+said:
+
+"I must go to my mother. So long as she lives I will never leave her
+again."
+
+She did not even look at me, nor speak a word of farewell, as if I were
+the murderer instead of that man, Jondo, whom she had kissed.
+
+I saw her ride away, with Little Blue Flower beside her. I saw the green
+mesa, the red cliffs above the growing things, the glitter of the San
+Christobal water on yellow sands, the level plain where the narrow white
+trail crept far away toward Gloria Narveo's lonely ranch-house, strong
+as a fort built a hundred years ago, in a little canon of the valley. I
+saw a young, graceful figure on horseback, and the glint of sunlight on
+golden hair. But the rider did not turn her head and I could not get one
+glance of those beautiful dark eyes. A great mass of rock hid the line
+of the trail, and the two, Eloise and Little Blue Flower, rounded the
+angle and rode on out of my sight.
+
+I helped to dig open the curly mesquite and to shovel out the sand. I
+heard the burial service, and saw a rudely coffined form lowered into an
+open grave. I saw Rex Krane at the head, and Jondo at the foot, and
+Beverly's bleeding hands as he scraped the loose earth back and heaped
+it over that which had been called Sister Anita; I heard Father Josef's
+voice of music repeating the "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." And
+then we turned away and left the spot, as men turn every day to the
+common affairs of life.
+
+Four days later Little Blue Flower came to me as I, still numb and cold
+and blankly unthinking, sat beside Fort Marcy and looked out with
+unseeing eyes at the glory of a New-Mexican sunset.
+
+"I come from Eloise." The sadness of her face and voice even the
+Indian's self-control could not conceal.
+
+"She is sad, but brave, and her mother loves her and calls her 'Little
+One.' She will never grow up to her mother. But"--Little Blue Flower's
+voice faltered and she gazed out at the far Sandia peaks wrapped in the
+rich purple folds of twilight, with the scarlet of the afterglow beyond
+them--"Eloise loves Beverly. She will always love him. Heaven meant him
+for her." There were some other broken sentences, but I did not grasp
+them clearly then.
+
+The world was full of gray shadows. The finishing touches had been put
+on life for me. I looked out at the dying glow in the west, and wondered
+vaguely if the sun would ever cross the Gloriettas again, or ever the
+Sangre-de-Christo grow radiant with the scarlet stain of that ineffable
+beauty that uplifts and purifies the soul of him who looks on it.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+SWEET AND BITTER WATERS
+
+
+    Trust me, it is something to be cast
+    Face to face with one's self at last,
+    To be taken out of the fuss and strife,
+    The endless clatter of plate and knife,
+    The bore of books, and the bores of the street,
+    And to be set down on one's own two feet
+      So nigh to the great warm heart of God,
+    You almost seem to feel it beat
+      Down from the sunshine, and up from the sod.
+
+                         JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
+
+
+My hair is very white now, and my fingers hold a pen more easily than
+they could hold the ox-goad or the rifle, and mine to-day is all the
+backward look. Which look is evermore a satisfying thing because it
+takes in all of life behind in its true proportion, where the forward
+look of youth sees only what comes next and nothing more. And looking
+back to-day it seems that, of the many times I walked the long miles of
+that old Santa Fe Trail, no journey over it stands out quite so
+clear-cut in my memory as the home trip after I had watched the going
+away of Eloise, and witnessed the flight of Ferdinand Ramero, and
+listened to the story of Jondo's life.
+
+When Little Blue Flower left me sitting beside Fort Marcy's wall my
+mind went back in swift review over the flight of days since Beverly
+Clarenden and I had come from Cincinnati. I recalled the first meeting
+of Eloise with my cousin. How easily they had renewed acquaintance. I
+had been surprised and embarrassed and awkward when I found her and
+Little Blue Flower down by the Flat Rock below St. Ann's, in the Moon of
+the Peach Blossom. I remembered how I had monopolized all of her time in
+the days that followed, leaving good-natured Bev to look after the
+little Indian girl who never really seemed like an Indian to him. And
+keen-piercing as an arrow came now the memory of that midnight hour when
+I had seen the two in the little side porch of the Clarenden home, and
+again I heard the sorrowful words:
+
+"Oh, Beverly, it breaks my heart."
+
+Eloise had just seen Beverly kiss Little Blue Flower in the shadows of
+the porch. And all the while, good-hearted, generous boy that he was, he
+had never tried to push his suit with her, had made her love him more,
+no doubt, by letting me have full command of all of her time, while he
+forgot himself in showing courtesy to the Indian girl, because Bev was
+first of all a gentleman. I thought of that dear hour in the church of
+San Miguel. Of course, Eloise was glad to find me there--poor, hunted,
+frightened child! She would have been as glad, no doubt, to have found
+big Bill Banney or Rex Krane, and I had thought her eyes held something
+just for me that night. She had not seen Beverly at the chapel beside
+the San Christobal River, and to me she had not given even a parting
+glance when she went away. If she had cared for me at all she would not
+have left me so. And I had climbed the tortuous trail with her and stood
+beside her in the zone of sanctuary safety that Father Josef had thrown
+about us two.
+
+These things were clear enough to me, but when I tried to think again of
+all that Little Blue Flower had said an hour ago my mind went numb:
+
+"Her mother knew her, but only as the little Eloise long lost and never
+missed till now. The mother, too, was very beautiful, and young in face,
+and child-like in her helplessness. The lonely ranch-house, old, and
+strong as a fort, girt round by tall canon walls, nestled in a grassy
+open place; and not a comfort had been denied the woman there. For
+Gloria Ramero, Ferdinand's wife, had governed that. And Eloise had
+entered there to stay. This much was clear enough. But that which
+followed seemed to twist and writhe about in my mind with only one thing
+sure--Eloise loved Beverly, would always love him. And he could not love
+any one else. He could be kind to any girl, but he would not be happy.
+Some day when he was older--a real man--then he would long for the girl
+of his heart and his own choice, and he would find her and love her,
+too, and she would love him and those who stood between them they both
+would hate. And Eloise loved Beverly. She could not send Gail any words
+herself, but he would understand."
+
+So came the Indian girl's interpretation of the case, but the conclusion
+was the message meant for me. I wondered vaguely, as I sat there, if the
+vision had come to Beverly years ago as it had come to me: three
+men--the soldier on his cavalry mount, Jondo, the plainsman, on his big
+black horse, and between the two, Esmond Clarenden, neither mounted nor
+on foot, but going forward somehow, steady and sure. And beyond these
+three, this side of misty mountain peaks, the cloud of golden hair, the
+sweet face, with dark eyes looking into mine. I had not been a dreamer,
+I had been a fool.
+
+Through Beverly I learned the next day that Ferdinand Ramero had come
+into Santa Fe late at night and had left early the next morning. Marcos
+Ramero, faultlessly dressed, lounged about the gambling-halls, and
+strolled through the sunny Plaza, idly and insolently, as was his
+custom. But Gloria Ramero, to whom Marcos long ago ceased to be more
+than coldly courteous, had left the city at once for the San Christobal
+Valley, to devote herself to the care of the beautiful woman whom her
+brother Felix Narveo in his college days had admired so much.
+
+As for Jondo, years ago when we had met Father Josef out by the sandy
+arroyo, he had left us to follow the good man somewhere, and had not
+come back to the Exchange Hotel until nightfall. Something had come into
+his face that day that never left it again. And now that something had
+deepened in the glance of his eye and the firm-set mouth. It was
+through that meeting with Father Josef that he had first heard of the
+supposed death of Mary Marchland St. Vrain, and it was through the
+priest in the chapel he had heard that she was still alive.
+
+Neither Beverly nor Bill Banney nor Rex Krane knew what I had heard in
+the church concerning Jondo's early career, and I never spoke of it to
+them. But to all of us, outside of that intensified something
+indefinable in his face, he was unchanged. He met my eye with the open,
+frank glance with which he met the gaze of all men. His smile was no
+less engaging and his manner remained the same--fearless, unsuspicious,
+definite in serious affairs, good-natured and companionable in
+everything. I could not read him now, by one little line, but back of
+everything lay that withering, grievous thought--he was a murderer.
+Heaven pity the boy when his idol falls, and if he be a dreaming
+idealist the hurt is tenfold deeper.
+
+And yet--the trail was waiting there to teach me many things, and
+Jondo's words rang through the aisles of my brain:
+
+"If you ever have a real cross, Gail, thank the Lord for the open plains
+and the green prairies, and the danger stimulus of the old Santa Fe
+Trail. They will seal up your wounds, and soften your hard, rebellious
+heart, and make you see things big, and despise the little crooks in
+your path."
+
+Our Conestoga wagons, with their mule-teams, and the few ponies for
+scout service, followed the old trail out of the valley of the Rio
+Grande to the tablelands eastward, up the steep sidling way into the
+passes of the Glorietta Mountains, down through lone, wind-swept canons,
+and on between wild, scarred hills, coming, at last, beyond the
+picturesque ridges, snow-crowned and mesa-guarded, into the long, gray,
+waterless lands of the Cimmarron country. Here we journeyed along
+monotonous levels that rose and fell unnoted because of lack of
+landmarks to measure by, only the broad, beaten Santa Fe Trail stretched
+on unbending, unchanging, uneffaceable.
+
+As the distance from spring to spring decreased, every drop of water
+grew precious, and we pushed on, eager to reach the richer prairies of
+the Arkansas Valley. Suddenly in the monotony of the way, and the
+increasing calls of thirst, there came a sense of danger, the plains-old
+danger of the Comanche on the Cimarron Trail. Bill Banney caught it
+first--just a faint sign of one hostile track. All the next day Jondo
+scouted far, coming into camp at nightfall with a grave report.
+
+"The water-supply is failing," he told us, "and there is something wrong
+out there. The Comanches are hovering near, that's certain, and there is
+a single trail that doesn't look Comanche to me that I can't account
+for. All we can do is to 'hold fast,'" he added, with his cheery smile
+that never failed him.
+
+That night I could not sleep, and the stars and I stared long at each
+other. They were so golden and so far away. And one, as I looked,
+slipped from its place and trailed wide across the sky until it
+vanished, leaving a stream of golden light that lingered before my eyes.
+I thought of the trail in the San Christobal Valley, and again I saw the
+sunlight on golden hair as Eloise with Little Blue Flower passed out of
+sight around the shoulder of a great rock beside the way. At last came
+sleep, and in my dreams Eloise was beside me as she had been in the
+church of San Miguel, her dark eyes looking up into mine. I knew, in my
+dream, that I was dreaming and I did not want to waken. For, "Eloise
+loved Beverly, would always love him." Little Blue Flower had said it.
+The face was far away, this side of misty mountain peaks, and farther
+still. I could see only the eyes looking at me. I wakened to see only
+the stars looking at me. I slept again deeply and dreamlessly, and
+wakened suddenly. We were far and away from the Apache country, but
+there, for just one instant, a face came close to mine--the face of
+Santan--the Apache. It vanished instantly as it had come. The night
+guard passed by me and crossed the camp. The stars held firm above me. I
+had had another dream. But after that I did not sleep till dawn.
+
+The day was very hot, with the scorching breeze of the plains that sears
+the very eyeballs dry. Through the dust and glare we pressed on over
+long, white, monotonous miles. Hovering near us somewhere were the
+Comanches--waiting; with us was burning thirst; ahead of us ran the
+taunting mirage--cool, sparkling water rippling between green
+banks--receding as we approached, maddening us by the suggestion of its
+refreshing picture, the while we knew it was only a picture. For it is
+Satan's own painting on the desert to let men know that Dante's dream is
+mild compared to the real art of torment. Men and animals began to give
+way under the day's burden, and we moved slowly. In times like these
+Jondo stayed with the train, sending Bill Banney and Beverly scouting
+ahead. That was the longest day that I ever lived on the Santa Fe Trail,
+although I followed its miles many times in the best of its freighting
+years.
+
+The weary hours dragged at last toward evening, and a dozen signs in
+plains lore told us that water must be near. As we topped a low swell at
+the bottom of whose long slide lay the little oasis we were seeking, we
+came upon Bill Banney's pony lying dead across the trail. And near it
+Bill himself, with bloated face and bleared eyes, muttering
+half-coherently:
+
+"Water-hole! Poison! Don't drink!"
+
+And then he babbled of the muddy Missouri, and the Kentucky blue grass,
+and cold mountain springs in the passes of the Gloriettas, warning us
+thickly of "death down there."
+
+"Down there," beside the little spring shelved in by shale at the lower
+edge of the swell, we found a tiny cairn built of clumps of sod and bits
+of shale. Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's note-book with the
+words
+
+     Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very far on.--BILL.
+
+So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach us. But for
+fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning and left it here.
+Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round the place and threshed the
+ground in agony when he tried to mount his poisoned pony, and his first
+thought was for us. The plains made men see big. Jondo had told me they
+could do it. Poor Bill, moaning for water now and tossing in agony in
+Jondo's wagon! The Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we
+hated them as we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!
+
+Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had a
+mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching glance.
+
+"We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope. Come,
+Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow now."
+
+A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch of
+coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided draw
+across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face downward beside a
+dead pony. We scrambled down, shattering the dry earth after us as we
+went. Jondo gently lifted the body and turned it face upward. It was
+Ferdinand Ramero.
+
+The big plainsman did not cry out, nor drop his hold, but his face
+turned gray, and only the dying man saw the look in the blue eyes gazing
+into his. Ramero tried to draw away, fear, and hate, and the old
+dominant will that ruled his life, strong still in death. As he lay at
+the feet of the man whose life hopes he had blasted, he expected no
+mercy and asked for none.
+
+"You have me at last. I didn't put the poison in that spring. I would
+not have drunk it if I had. It was the one below I fixed for you. And
+I'm in your power now. Be quick about it."
+
+For one long minute Jondo looked down at his enemy. Then he lifted his
+eyes to mine with the victory of "him that overcometh" shining in their
+blue depths.
+
+"If I could make you live, I'd do it, Fred. If you have any word to say,
+be quick about it now. Your time is short."
+
+The sweetness of that gentle voice I hear sometimes to-day in the low
+notes of song-birds, and the gentle swish of refreshing summer showers.
+
+Ferdinand Ramero lifted his cold blue eyes and looked at the man bending
+over him.
+
+"Leave me here--forgotten--"
+
+"Not of God. His Mercy endureth forever," Jondo replied.
+
+But there was no repentance, no softening of the hard, imperious heart.
+
+We left him there, pulling down the loose earth from the steep sides of
+the draw to cover him from all the frowning elements of the plains. And
+when we went back to the waiting train Jondo reported, grimly:
+
+"_No enemy in sight."_
+
+We laid Bill Banney beside the poisoned spring, from whose bitter waters
+he had saved our lives. So martyrs filled the unknown graves that made
+the milestones of the way in the days of commerce-building on the old
+Santa Fe Trail.
+
+The next spring was not far ahead, as Bill's note had said, but the
+stars were thick above us and the desolate land was full of shadows
+before we reached it--a thirst-mad, heart-sore crowd trailing slowly on
+through the gloom of the night.
+
+Beverly was waiting for us and the refreshing moisture of the air above
+a spring seemed about him.
+
+"I thought you'd never come. Where's Bill? There's water here. I made
+the spring myself," he shouted, as we came near.
+
+The spring that he had digged for us was in the sandy bed of a dry
+stream, with low, earth-banks on either side. It was full of water,
+hardly clear, but plentiful, and slowly washing out a bigger pool for
+itself as it seeped forth.
+
+"There is poison in the real spring down there." Beverly pointed toward
+the diminished fountain we had expected to find. "I've worked since noon
+at this."
+
+We drank, and life came back to us. We pitched camp, and then listened
+to Beverly's story of the sweet and bitter waters of the trail that day.
+And all the while it seemed as if Bill Banney was just out of sight and
+might come galloping in at any moment.
+
+"You know what happened up the trail," my cousin said, sadly. "Bill was
+ahead of me and he drank first, and galloped back to warn me and beg me
+to come on for water. I thought I could get down here and take some
+water back to Bill in time. It's all shale up there. No place to dig
+above, nor below, even if one dared to dig below that poison. But I
+found a dead coyote that had just left here, and all springs began to
+look Comanche to me. I lariated my pony and crept down under the bank
+there to think and rest. Everything went poison-spotted before my eyes."
+
+"Where's your pony now, Bev?" Jondo asked.
+
+"I don't know sure, but I expect he is about going over the Raton Pass
+by this time," Beverly replied. "Down there things seemed to swim around
+me like water everywhere and I knew I'd got to stir. Just then an Indian
+came slipping up from somewhere to the spring to drink. He didn't look
+right to me at all, but I couldn't sit still and see him kill himself.
+If he needed killing I could have done it for him, for he never saw me.
+Just as he stooped I saw his face. It was that Apache--Santan--the
+wander-foot, for I never heard of an Apache getting so far from the
+mountains. I ought to have kept still, Jondo"--Beverly's ready smile
+came to his face--"but I'd made that fellow swear he'd let me eternally
+alone when we had our little fracas up by the San Christobal Arroyo, so
+something like conscience, mean as the stomach-ache, made me call out:
+
+"'Don't drink there; it's poison.'
+
+"He stopped and stared at me a minute, or ten minutes--I didn't count
+time on him--and then he said, slow-like:
+
+"'It's the spring west that is poisoned. I put it there for you. You
+will not see your men again. They will drink and die. Who put this
+poison here?'
+
+"'Lord knows. I didn't,' I told him. 'Two of you carrying poison are two
+too many for the Cimarron country.'
+
+"And I hadn't any more conscience after that, but I was faint and slow,
+and my aim was bad for eels. He could have fixed me right then, but for
+some reason he didn't."
+
+Beverly's face grew sad.
+
+"He made six jumps six ways, and caught my pony's lariat. I can hear his
+yell still as he tore a hole in the horizon and jumped right through.
+Then I began on that spring. 'Dig or die. Dig or die.' I said over and
+over, and we are all here but Bill. I wish I'd got that Apache, though."
+
+Jondo and I looked at each other.
+
+"The thing is clear now," he said, aside to me. "That single trail I
+found back yonder day before yesterday was Santan's running on ahead of
+us to poison the water for us and then steal a horse and make his way
+back to the mountains. An Apache can live on this cactus-covered sand
+the same as a rattlesnake. He fixed the upper spring and came down here
+to drink. Only Beverly's conscience saved him here. Heaven knows how
+Fred Ramer got out here. He may have come with some Mexicans on ahead of
+us and left them here to drop his poison in this lower spring. Then he
+turned back toward Santa Fe and found his doom up there at Santan's
+spring.
+
+"I'm like Bev. I wish he had gotten the Apache, now. I don't know yet
+how I was fooled in him, for he has always been Fred Ramer's tool, and
+Father Josef never trusted him. And to think that Bill Banney, in no way
+touching any of our lives, should have been martyred by the crimes of
+Fred and this Apache! But that's the old, old story of the trail. Poor
+Bill! I hope his sleep will be sweet out in this desolate land. We'll
+meet him later somewhere."
+
+The winds must have carried the tale of poisoned water across the
+Cimarron country, for the Comanches' trail left ours from that day.
+Through threescore and ten miles to the Arkansas River we came, and
+there was not a well nor spring nor sign of water in all that distance.
+What water we had we carried with us from the Cimarron fountains. But
+the sturdy endurance of the days was not without its help to me. And the
+wide, wind-swept prairies of Kansas taught me many things. In the
+lonely, beautiful land, through long bright days and starlit nights, I
+began to see things bigger than my own selfish measure had reckoned. I
+thought of Esmond Clarenden and his large scheme of business; Felix
+Narveo, the true-hearted friend; and of Father Josef and his life of
+devotion. And I lived with Jondo every day. I could not forget the hour
+in the little ruined chapel in the San Christobal Valley, and how he
+himself had made no effort to clear his own name. But I remembered,
+too, that Father Josef, mercilessly just to Ferdinand Ramero, had not
+even asked Jondo to defend himself from the black charge against him.
+
+The sunny Kansas prairies, the far open plains, and the wild mountain
+trails beyond, had brought their blessing to Jondo, whose life had known
+so much of tragedy. And my cross was just my love for a girl who could
+not love me. That was all. Jondo had never forgotten nor ceased to love
+the mother of Eloise St. Vrain. I should be like Jondo in this. But the
+world is wide. Life is full of big things. Henceforth, while I would not
+forget, I, too, would be big and strong, and maybe, some time, just as
+sunny-faced as my big Jondo.
+
+The trail life, day by day, did bring its blessing to me. The clear,
+open land, the far-sweeping winds, the solitude for thought, the bravery
+and gentleness of the rough men who walked the miles with me, the
+splendor of the day-dawn, the beauty of the sunset, the peace of the
+still starlit night, sealed up my wounds, and I began to live for others
+and to forget myself; to dream less often, and to work more gladly; to
+measure men, not by what had been, but by how they met what was to be
+done.
+
+From all the frontier life, rough-hewn and coarse, the elements came
+that helped to make the big brave West to-day, and I know now that not
+the least of source and growth of power for these came out of the
+strength and strife of the things known only to the men who followed the
+Santa Fe Trail.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+DEFENDING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
+
+
+    The mind hath a thousand eyes,
+      And the heart but one.
+             --BOURDILLON.
+
+
+Busy years, each one a dramatic era all its own, made up the annals of
+the Middle West as the nation began to feel the thrill for expansion in
+its pulse-beat. The territorial days of Kansas were big with the tragic
+events of border warfare, and her birth into statehood marked the
+commencement of the four years of civil strife whose record played a
+mighty part in shaping human destiny.
+
+Meanwhile the sunny Kansas prairies lay waiting for the hearthstone and
+the plow. And young men, trained in camp and battle-field, looked
+westward for adventure, fortune, future homes and fame. But the tribes,
+whose hunting-grounds had been the green and grassy plains, yielded
+slowly, foot by foot, their stubborn claim, marking in human blood the
+price of each acre of the prairie sod. The lonely homesteads were the
+prey of savage bands, and the old Santa Fe Trail, always a way of
+danger, became doubly perilous now to the men who drove the vans of
+commerce along its broad, defenseless miles. The frontier forts
+increased: Hays and Harker, Larned and Zarah, and Lyon and Dodge became
+outposts of power in the wilderness, whose half-forgotten sites to-day
+lie buried under broad pasture-lands and fields of waving grain.
+
+One June day, as the train rolled through the Missouri woodlands along
+rugged river bluffs, Beverly Clarenden and I looked eagerly out of the
+car window, watching for signs of home. It was two years after the close
+of the Civil War. We had just finished six years of Federal service and
+were coming back to Kansas City. We were young men still, with all the
+unsettled spirit that follows the laying aside of active military life
+for the wholesome but uneventful life of peace.
+
+The time of our arrival had been uncertain, and the Clarenden household
+had been taken by surprise at our coming.
+
+"I wonder how it will seem to settle down in a store, Bev, after toting
+shooting-irons for six years," I said to my cousin, as the train neared
+Kansas City.
+
+"I don't know," Beverly replied, with a yawn, "but I'm thinking that
+after we see all the folks, and play with Mat's little boys awhile, and
+eat Aunty Boone's good stuff till we begin to get flabby-cheeked and
+soft-muscled, and our jaws crack from smiling so much when we just
+naturally want to get out and cuss somebody--about that time I'll be
+ready to run away, if I have to turn Dog Indian to do it."
+
+"There's a new Clarenden store at a place called Burlingame out in
+Kansas now, somewhere on the old trail. Maybe it will be far enough away
+to let you get tamed gradually to civil life there, if Uncle Esmond
+thinks you are worth it," I suggested.
+
+"Rex Krane is to take charge of that as soon as we get home. Yonder are
+the spires and minarets and domes of Kansas City. Put on your company
+grin, Gail," Beverly replied, as we began to run by the huts and cabins
+forming the outworks of the little city at the Kaw's mouth.
+
+Six years had made many changes in the place, but the same old welcome
+awaited us, and we became happy-hearted boys again as we climbed the
+steep road up the bluff to the Clarenden house. On the wide veranda
+overlooking the river everybody except one--Bill Banney, sleeping under
+the wind-caressed sod beside the Cimarron spring--was waiting to greet
+us. There were Esmond Clarenden and Jondo, in the prime of middle life,
+the one a little bald, and more than a little stout; the other's heavy
+hair was streaked with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical
+strength told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty
+for the years before him. The prairies had long since become his home;
+but whether in scout service for the Government, or as wagon-master for
+a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same big, brave, loyal
+Jondo.
+
+And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife beside
+him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something Madonna-like
+in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little boys, Esmond, and Rex,
+Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy welcome at us.
+
+In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty Boone.
+She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy days, when I
+considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she looked at us.
+
+"Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once more
+'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get your supper
+right away. Whoo-ee!"
+
+As she turned away, Mat said:
+
+"There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to meet. She
+has just come and doesn't even know that you are expected. It is 'Little
+Lees.'"
+
+A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall, a
+presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with her golden
+hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big dark eyes and
+their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her dainty coloring, and
+beyond all these the beauty of womanly strength written in her
+countenance.
+
+Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a deeper
+shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June roses. She
+stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in an instant the rich
+bloom came back to them again.
+
+"I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
+unannounced," Mat said.
+
+"You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in, as he
+took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at meeting her
+again.
+
+Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always greeted
+him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two when they came
+together. Little Blue Flower was right about them. They seemed to fit
+each other.
+
+But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just one
+glance. I feel it yet, and the soft touch of her hand as it lay in mine
+a moment.
+
+I think we chatted all together for a while. I had a wound at Malvern
+Hill that used to make me dizzy. That, or an older wound, made my pulse
+frantic now. I know that it was a rare June day, and the breeze off the
+river came pouring caressingly over the bluff. I remember later that
+Uncle Esmond and Jondo and Rex Krane went to the Clarenden store, and
+that Mat was helping Aunty Boone inside, while Beverly let the two
+little Kranes take him down the slope to see some baby squirrels or
+something. And Eloise and I were left alone beneath the trees, where
+once we had sat together long ago in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom."
+For me, all the strength of the years wherein I had built a wall around
+my longing love, all my manly loyalty to my cousin's claims, were swept
+away, as I have seen the big Missouri floods, joined by the lesser Kaw,
+sweep out bridges, snapping like sticks before their power.
+
+"Eloise, it seems a hundred years since I saw you and Little Blue Flower
+ride away up the San Christobal River trail out of my sight," I said.
+
+"It has been a long time, but we are not yet old. You seem the same. And
+as for me, I feel as if the clock had stopped awhile and had suddenly
+started to ticking anew."
+
+It was wonderful to sit beside her and hear her voice again. I did not
+dare to ask about her mother, but I am sure she read my thoughts, for
+she went on:
+
+"My mother is gone now. She was as happy as a child and never had a
+sorrow on her mind after her dreadful fever, although the doctors say
+she might have been restored if I had only been with her then. But it is
+all ended now."
+
+Eloise paused with saddened face, and looked out toward the Missouri
+River, boiling with June rains and melted snows.
+
+"It is all right now," she went on, bravely. "Sister Gloria--you know
+who she was--stayed with me to the last. And I have a real mound of
+earth in the cemetery beside my father." The last two words were spoken
+softly. "Sister Gloria is in the convent now. Marcos is a common
+gambler. His father disappeared and left him penniless. Esmond Clarenden
+says that his father died out on the plains somewhere."
+
+"And Father Josef?" I inquired.
+
+"Is still the same strong friend to everybody. He spends much time
+among the Hopi people. I don't know why, for they are hopelessly
+heathen. Their own religion has so many beautiful things to offset our
+faith that they are hard to convert."
+
+"And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a squaw
+in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of St. Ann's did
+for her?"
+
+A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.
+
+"Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in Eloise's
+voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I sometimes think that
+none of them--American, English, Spanish, French, Mexican, nor any
+others of our pale-faced people, have quite such bitter acts as the
+Indian tragedy among a gentle race like the people of Hopi-land."
+
+"I hope you will stay with us now."
+
+I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy, but a
+young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had seen this
+girl ride away from me without one good-by word or glance. I had heard
+her message to me through Little Blue Flower. I had suffered and
+outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch of her hand, one smile, one
+look from her beautiful eyes, and all the barrier of the years fell
+down. I wondered vaguely now about Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if
+things became too monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could
+not think anything.
+
+"I have no present plans. Father Josef and Esmond Clarenden thought it
+would be well for me to come up to Kansas and look at green prairies
+instead of red mesas for a while; to rest my eyes, and get my strength
+again--which I have never lost," Eloise said, with a smile. "And Jondo
+says--"
+
+She did not tell me what Jondo had said, for Beverly and Mat and the two
+rollicking boys joined us just then and we talked of many things of the
+earlier years.
+
+I cannot tell how that June slipped by, nor how Eloise, in the full
+bloom of her young womanhood, with the burdens lifted from her heart and
+hands, was no more the clinging, crushed Eloise who had sat beside me in
+the church of San Miguel, but a self-reliant and deliciously
+companionable girl-woman. With Beverly she was always gay, matching him,
+mood for mood; and if sometimes I caught the fleeting edge of a shadow
+in her eyes, it was gone too soon to measure. I did not seek her company
+alone, because I knew that I could not trust myself. Over and over,
+Jondo's words, when he had told me the story of Mary Marchland, came
+back to me:
+
+"And although they loved each other always, they never saw each other
+again."
+
+Nobody, outside of those touched by it, knew Jondo's story, except
+myself. He was Theron St. Vrain's brother, yet Eloise never called him
+uncle, and, except for the one mention of her father's grave, she did
+not speak of him. He was not even a memory to her. And both men's names
+were forever stained with the black charge against them.
+
+One evening in late June, Uncle Esmond called me into council.
+
+"Gail, Rex leaves to-morrow for the new store at Burlingame, Kansas. It
+is two days out on the Santa Fe Trail. Bev will go with him and stay for
+a while. I want you to drive through with Mat and the children and
+Eloise a day or two later."
+
+"Eloise?" I looked up in surprise.
+
+"Yes; she will visit with Mat for a while. She has had some trying years
+that have taxed her heavily. The best medicine for such is the song of
+the prairie winds," Uncle Esmond replied.
+
+"And after that?" I insisted.
+
+"We will wait for 'after that' till it gets here," my uncle smiled as he
+spoke. "There are more serious things on hand than where out Little Lees
+will eat her meals. She seems able to take care of herself anywhere.
+Wonderfully beautiful and charming young woman she is, and her troubles
+have strengthened her character without robbing her of her youth and
+happy spirits."
+
+Esmond Clarenden spoke reminiscently, and I stared at him in surprise
+until suddenly I remembered that Jondo had said, "We were all in love
+with Mary Marchland." Eloise must seem to him and Jondo like the Mary
+Marchland they had known in their young manhood. But my uncle's mood
+passed quickly, and his face was very grave as he said:
+
+"The conditions out on the frontier are serious in every way right now.
+The Indians are on the war-path, leaving destruction wherever they set
+foot. Something must be done to protect the wagon-trains on the Santa Fe
+Trail. I have already lost part of two valuable loads this season, and
+Narveo has lost three. But the appalling loss of property is nothing
+compared to the terror and torture to human life. The settlers on the
+frontier claims are being massacred daily. The Governor of Kansas is
+doing all he can to get some action from the army leaders at Washington.
+But you haven't been in military service for six years without finding
+out that some army leaders are flesh and blood, and some are only
+wood--plain wooden wood. Meantime, the story of one butchery doesn't get
+to the Missouri River before the story of another catches up with it.
+It's bad enough when it's ruinous to just my own commercial
+business--but in cases like this, humanity is my business."
+
+What a man he was--that Esmond Clarenden! They still say of him in
+Kansas City that no sounder financier and no bigger-hearted humanitarian
+ever walked the streets of that "Gateway to the Southwest" than the
+brave little merchant-plainsman who builded for the generations that
+should follow him.
+
+"What will be the outcome, Uncle Esmond? Are we to lose all we have
+gained out here?" I asked.
+
+"Not if we are real Westerners. It's got to be stopped. The question
+is, how soon," my uncle replied.
+
+That night in a half-waking dream I remembered Aunty Boone's prophetic
+greeting a few days before, and how her eyes had narrowed and grown dull
+as she said, "One more stainin' of your hands 'fore you are through."
+
+I had given six good years to army service--the years which young men
+give to college and to establishing themselves in their life-work. But
+the vision of the three men whom I had seen under the elm-tree at Fort
+Leavenworth came back to me, and only one--the cavalry man--moved
+westward now. I knew that I was dreaming, but I did not want to waken
+till the vision of a fair face whose eyes looked into mine should come
+to make my dream sweet and restful.
+
+But in my waking hours, in spite of the gravity of conditions that
+troubled Esmond Clarenden, in spite of the terrible tidings of daily
+killings on the unprotected plains, I forgot everything except the girl
+beside me as I went with her and Mat and the children to the new home in
+the village of Burlingame beside the Santa Fe Trail.
+
+Eloise St. Vrain had come up to Kansas to let the green prairies shut
+out the memory of tall red mesas. About the little town of Burlingame
+the prairies were waiting for her eyes to see. It nestled beside a deep
+creek under the shelter of forest trees, with the green prairie lapping
+up to its edges on every side. The trail wound round the shoulder of a
+low hill, and, crossing the stream, it made the main street of the
+town, then wandered on westward to where a rim of ground shut the view
+of its way from the settlement under the trees by the creek. A stanch
+little settlement it was, and, like many Kansas towns of the '60's, with
+big, but never-to-be realized, ambition to become a city. Into its life
+and up-building Rex Krane was to throw his good-natured Yankee
+shrewdness, and Mat her calm, generous spirit; vanguards they were,
+among the home-makers of a great State.
+
+My stay in the place was brief, and I saw little of Eloise until the
+evening before I was to return to Kansas City. I had meant to go away,
+as she had left me in the San Christobal Valley, without one backward
+look, but I couldn't do it; and at the close of my last day I went to
+the Krane home, where I found her alone. It was the long after-sunset
+hour, with the refreshing evening breezes pouring in from all the green
+levels about us.
+
+"Rex is at the store, and the others are all gone fishing," Eloise said,
+in answer to my inquiry for the family.
+
+"Mat and Bev always did go fishing on every occasion that I can
+remember, and they will make fishermen of little Esmond and Rex now.
+Would you like to go up to the west side of town and look into New
+Mexico?" I asked, wondering why Beverly should go fishing with Mat when
+Eloise was waiting for his smile.
+
+But I was desperately lonely to-night, and I might not see Eloise again
+until after she and Beverly--I could not go farther. She smiled and
+said, lightly:
+
+"I'm just honin' for a walk, as Aunty Boone would say, but I'm not quite
+ready to see New Mexico yet."
+
+"Oh, it's only a thing made of evening mists rising from the meadows,
+and bits of sunset lights left over when the day was finished," I
+assured her.
+
+So we left the shadow of the tall elms and strolled up the main street
+toward the west.
+
+Where the one cross-street cut the trail in the center of the village
+there was a public well. The ground around it was trampled into mud by
+many hoofs. A Mexican train had just come in and was grouped about this
+well, drinking eagerly.
+
+"What news of the plains?" I asked their leader as we passed.
+
+"I cannot tell you with the lady here," he replied, bowing courteously.
+"It is too awful. A spear hung with a scalp of pretty baby hair like
+hers. I see it yet. The plains are all _alive--alive_ with hostile red
+men; and the worst one of all--he that had the golden scalp--is but a
+half-breed Cheyenne Dog. Never the Apaches were so bad as he."
+
+The cattle horned about the well, with their drivers shouting and
+struggling to direct them, as we went wide to avoid the mud, then passed
+up to the rise beyond which lay the old trail's westward route.
+
+The mists were rising from the lowlands; along the creek the sunset sky
+was all a flaming glory, under whose deep splendor the June prairies lay
+tenderly green and still; down in the village the sounds of the Mexicans
+settling into camp; the shouting of children, romping late; and out
+across the levels, the mooing call of milking-time from some far-away
+settler's barn-yard; a robin singing a twilight song in the elms;
+crickets chirping in the long grass; and the gentle evening breeze sweet
+and cool out of the west--such was the setting for us two. We paused on
+the crest of the ridge and sat down to watch the afterglow of a prairie
+twilight. We did not speak for a long time, but when our eyes met I knew
+the hour had been made for me. In such an hour we had sat beside the
+glistening Flat Rock down in the Neosho Valley. I was a whole-hearted
+boy when I went down there, full of eagerness for the life of adventure
+on the trail, and she a girl just leaving boarding-school. And now--life
+sweetens so with years.
+
+"I think I can understand why your uncle thought it would be well for me
+to come to Kansas," Eloise said at last. "There is an inspiration and
+soothing restfulness in a thing like this. Our mountains are so huge and
+tragical; and even their silences are not always gentle. And our plains
+are dry and gray. And yet I love the valley of the Santa Fe, and the old
+Ortiz and Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the
+Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them for
+help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang his psalms of
+hope and victory."
+
+"Yes, Nature is kind to us if we will let her be. Jondo told me that
+long ago, and I've proved it since. But I have always loved the
+prairies. And this ridge here belongs to me," I replied.
+
+Eloise looked up inquiringly.
+
+"I'll tell you why. When I was a little boy, years ago, a day-dreaming,
+eager-hearted little boy, we camped here one night. That was my first
+trip over the trail to Santa Fe. You haven't forgotten it and what a big
+brown bob-cat I looked like when I got there. I grew like weeds in a
+Kansas corn-field on that trip."
+
+"Oh, I remember you. Go on," Eloise said, laughingly.
+
+"That night after supper, everybody had left camp--Mat and Bev were
+fishing--and I was alone and lonely, so I came up here to find what I
+could see of the next day's trail. It was such an hour as this. And as I
+watched the twilight color deepen, my own horizon widened, and I think
+the soul of a man began, in that hour, to look out through the little
+boy's eyes; and a new mile-stone was set here to make a landmark in my
+life-trail. The boy who went back slowly to the camp that night was not
+the same little boy that had run up here to spy out the way of the next
+day's journey."
+
+The afterglow was deepening to purple; the pink cloud-flecks were
+turning gray in the east, and a kaleidoscope of softest rose and tender
+green and misty lavender filled the lengthening shadows of the twilight
+prairie.
+
+"Eloise, I had a longing that night, still unfulfilled. I wish I dared
+to tell you what it was."
+
+I turned to look at the fair girl-woman beside me. In the twilight her
+eyes were always like stars; and the golden hair and the pink bloom of
+her cheeks seemed richer in their shadowy setting. To-night her gown was
+white--like the Greek dress she had worn at Mat's wedding, on the night
+when she met Beverly in the little side porch at midnight. Why did I
+recall that here?
+
+"What was your wish, Gail?" The voice was low and sweet.
+
+I took her hand in mine and she did not draw away from me.
+
+"That I might some day have a real home all my own down there among the
+trees. I was a little homesick boy that night, and I came up here to
+watch the sunset and see the open level lands that I have always loved.
+Eloise, Jondo told me once of three young college men who loved your
+beautiful mother, and because of that love they never married anybody,
+but they lived useful, happy lives. I can understand now why they should
+love her, and why, because they could not have her love, they would not
+marry anybody else. One was my uncle Esmond, and one was Father Josef."
+
+"And the third?" The voice was very low and a tremor shook the hand I
+held.
+
+"He did not tell me. And I speak of it now only to show you that in what
+I want to say I am not altogether selfish and unkind. I love you,
+Eloise. I have loved you since the day, long ago, when your face came
+before me on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I told you of that
+once down on the bluff by the Clarenden home at Kansas City. I shall
+love you, as the Bedouin melody runs,
+
+    Til the sun grows cold,
+    And the stars are old,
+    And the leaves of the judgment
+            Book unfold!
+
+"But I know that it will end as Uncle Esmond's and Father Josef's loving
+did, in my living my life alone."
+
+Eloise quickly withdrew her hand, and the pain in her white face haunts
+me still.
+
+"I do not want to hurt you, oh, Eloise. I know I do wrong to speak, but
+to-night will be the last time. I thought that night in the church at
+San Miguel, and that next day when we rode for our lives together, that
+you cared for me who would have walked through fire for you. But in that
+hour in the little chapel a barrier came between us. You rode away
+without one word or glance. And I turned back feeling that my soul was
+falling into ruins like that half-ruined little pile of stone that some
+holy padre had built his heart into years and years ago. Then Little
+Blue Flower brought your message to me and I knew as I sat beside Fort
+Marcy's wall that night, and saw the sun go down, that the light of my
+life was going out with it."
+
+"But, Gail," Eloise exclaimed, "I said I could not send you any word,
+but you would understand. I--I couldn't say any more than that." Her
+voice was full of tears and she turned away from me and looked at the
+last radiant tints edging the little cloud-flecks above the horizon.
+
+"Of course I understand you, Eloise, and I do not blame you. I never
+could blame you for anything." I sprang to my feet. "You'll hate me if I
+say another word," I said, savagely.
+
+She rose up, too, and put her hand on my arm. Oh, she was beautiful as
+she stood beside me. So many times I have pictured her face, I will not
+try to picture it as it looked now in this sweet, sacred moment of our
+lives.
+
+"Gail, I could never hate you. You do not understand me. I cannot help
+what is past now. I hoped you might forget. And yet--" She paused.
+
+All men are humanly alike. In spite of my strong love for Beverly and my
+sense of right, the presence of the woman whose image for so many years
+had been in the sacredest shrine of my heart, Eloise, in all her beauty
+and her womanly strength and purity, standing beside me, her hand still
+on my arm--all overpowered me.
+
+I put my arms about her and held her close to me, kissing her forehead,
+her cheek, her lips. The world for one long moment was rose-hued like
+the sunset's afterglow; and sky and prairie, lowlands along the winding
+creek, and tall elm-trees above the deepening shadows, were all engulfed
+in a mist of golden glory, shot through with amethyst and sapphire, the
+dainty coraline pink of summer dawns, and the iridescent shimmer of
+mother-of-pearl.
+
+Heaven opens to us here and there such moments on the way of life. And
+the memory of them lingers like perfume through all the days that
+follow.
+
+We turned our faces toward the darkening village street and the tall
+elms above the gathering shadows, and neither spoke a word until we
+reached the door where I must say good night.
+
+"I cannot ask you to forgive me, Little Lees, because you let me have a
+bit of heaven up there. I shall go away a better man. And, remember,
+that no blessing in your life can be greater than I would wish for you
+to have."
+
+The brave white face was before my eyes and the low voice was in my ears
+long after I had left her door.
+
+"Gail, I cannot help what has been, but I do not blame you. I should
+almost wish myself shut in again by the tall red mesas; but maybe, after
+all, the prairies are best for me. I am glad I have known you. Good
+night."
+
+"Goodnight," I said, and turned away.
+
+And that was all. The last light of day had gone from the sky, and the
+stars overhead were hidden by the thick leafage of the Burlingame elms.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+A MAN'S PART
+
+
+  Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us through
+     the years;
+  Heaven and hell rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;
+  Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove with
+     a gray,
+  To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic day?
+
+   --ROBERT W. SERVICE.
+
+
+However darkly the sun may go down on hope and love, the real sun shines
+on, day after day, with its inexorable call to duty. In less than a week
+after I had left Eloise and the vague hope of a home of my own under the
+big elm-trees of Burlingame, Governor Crawford of Kansas sent forth a
+call for a battalion of four companies of soldiers, and I heard the call
+and answered it.
+
+It was to be known as the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry, with Col. Horace L.
+Moore, a veteran soldier of tried mettle, at the head. We were to go at
+once to Fort Harker, in the valley of the Smoky Hill River, to begin a
+campaign against the Indians, who were laying waste the frontier
+settlements and attacking wagon-trains on the Sante Fe Trail.
+
+On the evening before I left home I sat on the veranda of the Clarenden
+house, waiting for Uncle Esmond to join me, when suddenly Beverly
+Clarenden strode over the edge of the hill. The sunny smile and the
+merry twinkle of his eye were Bev's own, and there wasn't a line on his
+face to show whether it belonged to the happy lover or the rejected
+suitor. I thought I could always read his moods when he had any. He had
+none to-night.
+
+"I just got in from Burlingame. At what hour do you leave to-morrow? I'm
+going along to chaperon you, as usual," he declared.
+
+"Why, Beverly Clarenden, I thought you were fixed at Burlingame, selling
+molasses and calico by the gallon," I exclaimed, but my real thought was
+not given to words.
+
+"And let the Cheyennes, and Kiowas, and Arapahoes, and other desperadoes
+of the plains gnaw clear into the heart of us? Not your uncle Esmond
+Clarenden's nephew. And, Gail, this won't be anything like we have had
+since those six Kiowas staked you out on Pawnee Rock once. The
+thoroughbred Indians are bad enough, but there is a half-breed leader of
+a band of Dog Indians that's worst of all. He's of the yellow kind, with
+wolf's fangs. A Mexican on the trail told me that this half-breed ties
+up with the worst of every tribe from the Coast Range mountains to
+Tecumseh, Kansas," Beverly declared.
+
+"I remember that Mexican. I saw him at the well in Burlingame," I
+replied, turning to look at the Kaw winding far away, for the memory of
+everything in Burlingame was painful to me.
+
+Aunty Boone's huge form appearing around the corner of the house shut
+off my view of the river just then. Her face was glistening, but her
+eyes were dull as she looked us over.
+
+"You stainin' your hands again," she purred. "Yes, Aunty. We are going
+to lick the redskins into ribbons," Beverly replied.
+
+"You never get that done. Lickin' never settles nobody. You just hold
+'em down till they strong enough to boost you off their heads again, and
+up they come. Whoo-ee!"
+
+The black woman gave a chuckle.
+
+"Well, I'd rather sit on their heads than have them sitting on mine, or
+yours, Aunty Boone," Beverly returned, laughingly.
+
+Aunty Boone's eyes narrowed and there was a strange light in them as she
+looked at us, saying:
+
+"You get into trouble, Mr. Bev, you see me comin', hot streaks, to help
+you out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She breathed her weird, African whoop and turned away.
+
+"I'll depend on you." Beverly's face was bright, and there was no shadow
+in his eyes, as he called after her retreating form.
+
+We chatted long together, and I hoped--and feared--to have him tell me
+the story of his suit with Eloise, and why in such a day, of all the
+days of his life, he should choose to run away to the warfare of the
+frontier. He could not have failed, I thought. Never a disappointed
+lover wore a smile like this. But Beverly had no story to tell me that
+night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The mid-July sun was shining down on a treeless landscape, across which
+the yellow, foam-flecked Smoky Hill River wound its sinuous way. Beside
+this stream was old Fort Harker, a low quadrangle of quarters, for
+military man and beast, grouped about a parade-ground for companionship
+rather than for protection. The frontier fort had little need for
+defensive strength. About its walls the Indian crawled submissively,
+fearful of munitions and authority. It was not here, but out on lonely
+trails, in sudden ambush, or in overwhelming numbers, or where long
+miles, cut off from water, or exhausting distance banished safe retreat,
+that the savage struck in all his fury.
+
+Eastward from Harker the scattered frontier homesteads crouched,
+defenseless, in the river valleys. Far to the northwest spread the
+desolate lengths of a silent land where the white man's foot had hardly
+yet been set. Miles away to the southwest the Santa Fe Trail wound among
+the Arkansas sand-hills, never, in all its history, less safe for
+freighters than in that summer of 1867.
+
+In this vast demesne the raiding Cheyenne, the cruel Kiowa, the
+blood-thirsty Arapahoe, with bands of Dog Indians and outlaws from every
+tribe, contested, foot by foot, for supremacy against the out-reaching
+civilization of the dominant Anglo-American. The lonely trails were
+measured off by white men's graves. The vagrant winds that bear the odor
+of alfalfa, and of orchard bloom to-day, were laden often with the smoke
+of burning homes, and often, too, they bore that sickening smell of
+human flesh, once caught, never to be forgotten. The story of that
+struggle for supremacy is a tragic drama of heroism and endurance. In it
+the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry played a stirring part.
+
+It seems but yesterday to me now, that July day so many years ago, when
+our four companies, numbering fewer than four hundred men, detrained
+from the Union Pacific train at Fort Harker on the Smoky Hill. And the
+faces of the men who were to lead us are clear in memory. Our commander,
+Colonel Moore, always brave and able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay,
+and Edgar Barker, and George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd,
+courageous scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking,
+young lieutenant, Frank Stahl. Ours was not to be a record of unfading
+glory, as national military annals show, yet it may count mightily when
+the Great Records are opened for final estimates. Those men who marched
+two thousand miles, back and forth, upon the trackless plains in that
+four months' campaign, have been forgotten in the debris of uneventful
+years. Our long-faded trails lie buried under wide alfalfa-fields and
+the paved streets of western Kansas towns. From the far springs that
+quenched our burning thirst comes water, trickling through a nickel
+faucet into a marble basin, now. Where the fierce sun seared our
+eyeballs, in a treeless, barren waste, green groves, atune with
+song-birds, cast long swaths of shade on verdant sod. The perils and the
+hardships of the Eighteenth Kansas Cavalry are now but as a tale that is
+told.
+
+And yet of all the heroes whose life-trails cut my own, I account among
+the greatest those men under whose command, and with whose comradeship,
+I went out to serve the needs of my generation among the vanguards of
+the plains. And if in a sunset hour on the west ridge beyond the little
+town of Burlingame I had left a hopeless love behind me, I put a man's
+best energy into the thing before me.
+
+The battle-field alone is not the soldier's greatest test. I had kept
+step with men who charge an enemy on an open plain or storm a high
+defense in the face of sure defeat. I had been ordered with my company
+to take redoubts against the flaming throats of bellowing cannon in the
+life-and-death grip before Richmond. I had felt the awful thrill of
+carnage as my division surged back and forth across the blood-soaked
+lengths of Gettysburg, and I never once fell behind my comrades. The
+battle-field breeds courage, and self-forgetfulness, and exaltation,
+from the sense of duty squarely met.
+
+There were no battle-fields in 1867, where Greek met Greek in splendid
+gallantry, out on the Kansas plains. Over Fort Harker hung the pall of
+death, and in the July heat the great black plague of Asiatic cholera
+stalked abroad and scourged the land. Men were dying like rats, lacking
+everything that helps to drive death back. The volunteer who had offered
+himself to save the settlers from the scalping-knife had come here only
+to look into an open grave, and then, in agony, to drop into it. Such
+things test soldiers more than battle-fields. And our men turned back in
+fear, preferring the deserter's shame to quick, inglorious martyrdom by
+Asiatic cholera. I had a battle of my own the first night at Fort
+Harker. There was a growing moon and the night breeze was cool after the
+heat of the day. Beverly Clarenden and I went down to the river, whose
+tawny waters hardly hid the tawny sands beneath them. The plains were
+silent, but from all the hospital tents about the fort came the sharp,
+agonized cries of pain that forerun the last collapse of the
+plague-stricken sufferers. To get away from the sound of it all we
+wandered down the stream to where the banks of soft, caving earth on the
+farther side were higher than a man's head, and their shadow hid the
+current. We sat down and stared silently at the waters, scarcely
+whispering as they rolled along, and at the still shade of the farther
+bank upon them. The shadows thickened and moved a little, then grew
+still. We also grew still. Then they moved again just opposite us, and
+fell into three parts, as three men glided silently along under the
+bank's protecting gloom. We waited until they had reached the edge of
+the moonlight, and saw three soldiers pass swiftly out across the
+unprotected sands to other shadowy places further on.
+
+"Deserters!" Beverly said, half aloud. "You can stay here if you want
+to, Gail. I'd rather go up and listen to those poor wretches groan than
+stick down here and listen to the fiend inside of me to-night."
+
+He rose and stalked away, and I sat listening to myself. I could join
+those three men easily enough. The world is wide. I had no bond to hold
+me to one single place in it. I was young and strong, and life is sweet.
+Why let the black plague snuff me out of it? I had come here to serve
+the State. I should not serve it in a plague-marked grave. I rose to
+follow down the stream, to go to where the Smoky Hill joins the big
+Republican to make the Kaw, and on to where the Kaw reaches to the
+Missouri. But I would not stop there. I'd go until I reached the ocean
+somewhere.
+
+Would I?
+
+The memory of Jondo's eyes when they looked into mine on Pawnee Rock
+came unbidden across my mind. Jondo had lived a nameless man. How strong
+and helpful all his years had been! How starved had been my life without
+his love! I would be another Jondo, somewhere on earth.
+
+I stared after three faintly moving shadows down the stream. 'Twas well
+I waited, for Esmond Clarenden came to me now, clean-cut, honest,
+everybody's friend. How firm his life had been; and he had built into me
+a hatred of deceit and lies. And Jondo was another Uncle Esmond. In
+spite of the black shadow on his name, he walked the prairies like a
+prince always. I could not be like him if I were a deserter. Up-stream
+death was waiting for me; down-stream, disgrace. I turned and followed
+up the river's course, but the strength that forced me to it was greater
+than that which made me brave on battle-fields. And ever since that
+night beside the Smoky Hill I have felt gentler toward the man who
+falls.
+
+We were not idle long for Fort Harker had just been informed of an
+assault on a wagon-train on the Santa Fe Trail and our cavalry squadron
+hurried away at once to overtake and punish the assailants.
+
+We came into camp on the bank of Walnut Creek, at the close of a long
+summer day of blazing light and heat over the barren trails where there
+was no water; a day of long hours in the saddle; a day of nerve-wearing
+watchfulness. But we believed that we had left the plague-cursed region
+behind us, so we were light-hearted and good-natured; and we ate, and
+drank, and took our lot cheerfully.
+
+Among the men at mess that night I saw a new face which was nothing
+remarkable, except that something in it told me that I had already seen
+that face somewhere, some time. It is my gift never to forget a face,
+once seen, no matter how many years may pass before I see it twice. This
+soldier was a pleasant fellow, too, and, in a story he was telling,
+clever at imitating others.
+
+"Who is that man, Bev? The third one over there?" I asked my cousin.
+
+"Stranger to me. I don't believe I ever saw him before. Who is the
+fellow with the smile, Captain?" Beverly asked the officer beside him.
+
+"I don't know. He's not in my company. I'm finding new faces every day,"
+the captain replied.
+
+As twilight fell I saw the man again at the edge of the camp. He smiled
+pleasantly as he passed me, turning to look at Beverly, who did not see
+him, and in a minute he was cantering down to the creek beside our camp.
+I saw him cross it and ride quickly out of sight. But that smile brought
+to the face the thing that had escaped me.
+
+"I know that fellow now," I said to Beverly and the officer who came up
+just then. "He's Charlie Bent, the son of Colonel Bent. Don't you
+remember the little sinner at old Fort Bent, Bev?"
+
+"I do, and what a vicious little reptile he was," Beverly replied. "But
+Uncle Esmond told me that his father took him away early and had him
+schooled like a gentleman in the best Saint Louis had to give. I wonder
+whose company he is in."
+
+The officer stared at us.
+
+"You mean to say you know that cavalryman to be Charlie Bent?" he fairly
+gasped.
+
+"Of course it's Charlie. I never missed a face in all my life. That's
+his own," I replied.
+
+"The worst Indian on the plains!" the captain declared. "He stirs up
+more fiendishness than a whole regiment of thoroughbred Cheyennes could
+ever think of. He's led in every killing here since March."
+
+"Not Colonel Bent's son!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, he's the half-breed devil that we'll have to fight, and here he
+comes and eats with us and rides away."
+
+"He must be the fellow that the Mexican told us about back at
+Burlingame, Gail. I remember now he did say the brute's name was Bent,
+but I didn't rope him up with our Fort Bent chum. Gail would have run
+him down in half a minute if he had heard the name. I never could
+remember anything," Beverly said, in disgust. But the smile was peeping
+back of his frown, and he forgot the boy he was soon to have cause
+enough to remember.
+
+"We must run that rascal down to-night," the Captain declared, as he
+hurried away to consult with the other officers.
+
+But Charlie Bent was not run down that night. Before we had time to get
+over our surprise a scream of pain rang through the camp. Another
+followed, and another, and when an hour had passed a third of our forces
+was writhing in the clutches of the cholera.
+
+I shall never forget the long hours of that night beside the Walnut, nor
+Beverly Clarenden's face as he bent over the suffering men. For all of
+us who were well worked mightily to save our plague-stricken comrades,
+whose couches were of prairie grass and whose hospital roof was the
+starlit sky. However forgetful Beverly might be of names and faces, his
+strong hand had that soothing firmness that eased the agony of cramping
+limbs. Dear Bev! He comforted the sick, and caught the dying words, and
+straightened the relaxed bodies of the dead, and smiled next day, and
+forgot that he had done it.
+
+At last the night of horror passed, and day came, wan and hot and weary
+out of the east. But five of our comrades would see no earthly day
+again; and three dozen strong men of the day before lay stretched upon
+the ground, pulseless and shrunken and purple, with wrinkled skin and
+wide, unseeing eyes.
+
+Before the sun had risen our dead, coffined only by their army blankets,
+lay in unmarked graves. Our helpless living were placed in commissary
+wagons, and we took the trail slowly and painfully toward the Arkansas
+River.
+
+If Charley Bent had gathered up his band to strike that night there
+would have been a different chapter in the annals of the plains.
+
+I cannot follow with my pen the long marches of that campaign, and there
+was no honorable nor glorious warfare in it. It is a story of
+skirmishes, not of battles; of attack and repulse; of ambush and pursuit
+and retreat. It is a story of long days under burning skies, by whose
+fierce glare our brains seemed shriveling up and the world went black
+before our heat-bleared eyes. A story of hard night-rides, when weary
+bodies fought with watchful minds the grim struggle that drowsiness can
+wage, though sleep, we knew, meant death. It is a story of fevered
+limbs and bursting pulse in hospitals whose walls were prairie
+distances. A story of hunger, and exhausted rations; of choking thirst,
+with only alkali water mocking at us. And never could the story all be
+told. There is no rest for cavalrymen in the field. We did not suffer
+heavy loss, but here and there our comrades fell, by ones, and twos, at
+duty's post; and where they fell they lie, in wayside graves, waiting
+for glorious mention until the last reveille shall sound above the
+battlements of heaven.
+
+And I was one among these vanguards of the plains, making the old Santa
+Fe Trail safe for the feet of trade; and the wide Kansas prairies safe
+for homes, and happiness, and hope, and power. I lived the life, and
+toughened in its grind. But in my dreams sometimes my other life
+returned to me, and a sweet face, with a cloud of golden hair, and dark
+eyes looking into mine, came like a benediction to me. Another face came
+sometimes now--black, big, and glistening, with eyes of strange, far
+vision looking at me, and I heard, over and over, the words of Esmond
+Clarenden's cook:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I'll come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+But trouble never stuck to "Mr. Bev," because he failed to know it when
+it came.
+
+Mid-August found us at Fort Hays on the Smoky Hill, beyond whose
+protecting guns the wilderness ruled. A wilderness checkered by faint
+trails of lawless feet, a wilderness set with bloody claws and poison
+stings and cruel fangs, and slow, agonizing death. And with all a
+wilderness of weird, fascinating distances and danger, charm and beauty.
+The thrill of the explorer of new lands possessed us as we looked far
+into the heart of it. Here in these August days the Cheyenne and
+Arapahoe and Kiowa bands were riding trails blood-stained by victims
+dragged from lonely homesteads, and butchered, here and there, to make
+an Indian holiday. The scenes along the valleys of the Sappa and the
+Beaver and the Prairie Dog creeks were far too brutal and revolting to
+belong to modern life. Against these our Eighteenth Kansas, with a small
+body of United States cavalry, struck northward from Fort Hays. We
+rested through the long, hot days and marched by night. The moon was
+growing toward the full, and in its clear, white splendor the prairies
+lay revealed for miles about us. Our command was small and meagerly
+equipped, and we were moving on to meet a foe of overwhelming numbers.
+Men took strange odds with Fate upon the plains.
+
+Beyond the open, level lands lay a rugged region hemming in the valley
+of the Prairie Dog Creek. Here picturesque cliffs and deep, earth-walled
+canons split the hills, affording easy ambush for a regiment of red men.
+And here, in a triangle of a few miles area, a new Thermopylae, with no
+Leonidas but Kansas plainsmen, was staged through two long August days
+and nights. One hundred and fifty of us against fifteen hundred
+fighting braves.
+
+In the early morning of a long, hot August day, we came to an open plain
+beyond the Prairie Dog Creek. Our supply-wagons and pack-mules were
+separated from us somewhere among the bluffs. We had had no food since
+the night before, and our canteens were empty--all on account of the
+blundering mismanagement of the United States officer who cammanded
+us. I was only a private, and a private's business is not to
+question, but to obey. And that major over us, cashiered for cowardice
+later, was not a Kansas man. Thank heaven for that!
+
+A score of us, including my cousin and myself, under a sergeant, and
+with good Scout Pliley, were suddenly ordered back among the hills.
+
+"Where do we go, and why?" Beverly asked me as we rode along.
+
+"I don't know," I replied. "But Captain Jenness and a file of men were
+lost out here somewhere last night. And Indian tracks step over one
+another all around here. I guess we are out to find what's lost, maybe.
+It isn't a twenty minutes' job, I know that."
+
+"And all our canteens empty, too! Why cut off all visible means of
+support in a time like this? Look at these bluffs and hiding-places,
+will you! A handful of Indians could scoop our whole body up and pitch
+us into the Prairie Dog Creek, and not be missed from a set in a
+war-dance," Beverly insisted. "Keep it strictly in the Clarenden family,
+Gail, but our honorable commander is a fool and a coward, if he is a
+United States major."
+
+"You speak as one expecting a promotion, Bev," I suggested.
+
+"I'd know how to use it if I got it," he smiled brightly at me as we
+quickened our pace not to fall behind.
+
+Every day of that campaign Beverly grew dearer to me. I am glad our
+lives ran on together for so many years.
+
+The canons deepened and the whole region was bewildering, but still we
+struggled on, lost men searching for lost men. The sun blazed hotly, and
+the soft yellow bluffs of bone-dry earth reached down to the dry beds of
+one-time streams.
+
+High noon, and still no food, no water, and no lost men discovered. We
+had pushed out to a little opening, ridged in on either side by high,
+brown bluffs, when a whoop came from the head of the line.
+
+"Yonder they are! Yonder they are!"
+
+Half a dozen men, led by Captain Jenness, were riding swiftly to join us
+and we shouted in our joy. For some among us that was the last joyous
+shout. At that moment a yell from savage throats filled the air, and the
+thunder of hoofs shook the ground. Over the west ridge, half a mile
+away, five hundred Indians came swooping like a hurricane down upon us.
+And we numbered, altogether, twenty-nine. I can see that charge to-day:
+the blinding, yellow sky, the ridge melting into a cloud of tawny dust,
+the surge of ponies with their riders bending low above them; fronting
+them, our little group of cavalrymen formed into a hollow square, on
+foot, about our mounts; the Indians riding, in a wide circle around us,
+with blankets flapping, and streamer-decked lances waving high. And as I
+see, I hear again that wild, unearthly shriek and taunting yell and
+fiendish laughter. From every point the riflle-balls poured in
+upon us, while out of buffalo wallow and from behind each prairie-dog
+hillock a surge of arrows from unmounted Indians swept up against us. I
+had been on battle-fields before, but this was a circle out of hell set
+'round us there. And every man of of knew, as we sent back ball for
+ball, what capture here would mean for us before the merciful hand of
+death would seal our eyes.
+
+Suddenly, as we moved forward, the frantic circle halted and a hundred
+braves came dashing in a fierce charge upon us. Their leader, mounted on
+a great, white horse, rode daringly ahead, calling his men to follow
+him, and taunting us with cowardice. He spoke good English, and his
+voice rang clear and strong above the din of that strange struggle.
+Straight on he came, without once looking back, a revolver in each hand,
+firing as he rode. A volley from our carbines made his fellows stagger,
+then waver, break, and run. Not so the rider of the splendid white
+horse, who dared us to strike him down as he dashed full at us.
+
+"Come on, you coward Clarenden boys, and I'll fight you both. I've
+waited all these years to do it. I dare you. Oh, I dare you!"
+
+It was Charlie Bent.
+
+Nine balls from Clarenden carbines flew at him. Beverly and I were
+listed among the cleverest shots in Kansas, but not one ball brought
+harm to the daring outlaw. A score of bullets sung about his insolent
+face, but his seemed a charmed life. Right on he forged, over our men,
+and through the square to the Indian's circle on the other side, his
+mocking laughter ringing as he rode. A bloody scalp hung from his spear,
+and, turning 'round just out of range of our fire, shaking his trophy
+high, he shouted back:
+
+"We got all of the balance of your men. We'll get you yet."
+
+The sun glared fiercely on the bare, brown earth. A burning thirst began
+to parch our lips. We had had no food nor drink for more than twenty
+hours. Our horses, wounded with many arrows, were harder to care for
+than our brave, stricken men.
+
+Night came upon the canons of the Prairie Dog, and with the darkness the
+firing ceased. Somewhere, not far away, there might be a wagon-train
+with food for us. And somewhere near there might be a hundred men or
+more of our command trying to reach us. But, whether the force and
+supplies were safe or the wagons were captured and all our comrades
+killed, as Charlie Bent had said, we could not know. We only knew that
+we had no food; that one man, and all but four of our cavalry horses
+lay dead out in the valley; that two men in our midst were slowly dying,
+and a dozen others suffering from wounds of battle, among these our
+captain and Scout Pliley; that we were in a wild, strange land, with
+Indians perching, vulture-like, on every hill-top, waiting for dawn to
+come to seize their starving prey.
+
+We heard an owl hoot here and there, and farther off an answering hoot;
+a coyote's bark, a late bird's note, another coyote, and a fainter hoot,
+all as night settled. And we knew that owl and coyote and twilight
+song-bird were only imitations--sentinel signals from point to point,
+where Indian videttes guarded every height, watching the trail with
+shadow-piercing eyes.
+
+The glossy cottonwood leaves, in the faint night breeze, rippled like
+pattering rain-drops on dry roofs in summertime, and the thin, willow
+boughs swayed gently over us. The full moon swept grandly up the
+heavens, pouring a flood of softened light over the valley of the
+Prairie Dog, whose steep bluffs were guarded by a host of blood-lusting
+savages, and whose canons locked in a handful of intrepid men.
+
+If we could only slip out, undiscovered, in the dark we might find our
+command somewhere along the creek. It was a perilous thing to undertake,
+but to stay there was more perilous.
+
+"Say, Gail," Beverly whispered, when we were in motion, "somebody said
+once, 'There have been no great nations without processions,' but this
+is the darndest procession I ever saw to help to make a nation great.
+Hold on, comrade. There! Rest on my arm a bit. It makes it softer."
+
+The last words to a wounded soldier for whom Bev's grip eased the ride.
+
+It was a strange procession, and in that tragic gloom the boy's
+light-hearted words were balm to me.
+
+Silently and slowly we moved forward. The underbrush was thick on either
+side of the narrow, stony way that wound between sheer cliffs. We had
+torn up our blankets and shirts to muffle the horses' feet, that no
+sound of hoofs, striking upon the rocky path, might reach the ears of
+the Cheyenne and his allies crouching watchfully above us. At the head
+marched Captain Jenness and Scout Pliley, each with his carbine for a
+crutch and leaning on each other for support. Followed five soldiers as
+front guard through the defile. And then four horses, led by careful
+hands, bearing nine suffering, silent men upon their backs. Two of the
+horses carried three, and one bore two, and the last horse, one--a dying
+boy, whispering into my ear a message for his mother, as I held his
+hand. Behind us came the sergeants with the remainder, for rear-guard.
+And so we passed, mile after mile, winding in and out, to find some
+sheltering spot where, sinking in exhaustion, we might sleep.
+
+The midnight winds grew chill, and the tense strain of that slow march
+was maddening, but not a groan came from the wounded men. The vanguards
+of the plains knew how to take perilous trails and hold their peace.
+
+When the sun rose on the second day the hills about us swarmed with
+savages, whose demoniac yells rent the air. Leonidas had his back
+against a rock at old Thermopylae, but our Kansas plainsmen fought in a
+ring of fire.
+
+At day-dawn, our brave scout, Pliley, slipped away, and, after long
+hours among the barren hills, he found the main command.
+
+Men never gave up hope in the plains warfare, but each of us had saved
+one bullet for himself, if we must lose this game. The time for that
+last bullet had almost come when the sight of cavalrymen on a distant
+ridge told us that our scout was on its way to us again. It took a
+hero's heart to thread unseen the dangerous trails and find our comrades
+with the cavalry major and bring back aid, but Pliley did it for us--a
+man's part. May the sod rest lightly where he sleeps to-day.
+
+Meantime, on the day before, the main force of our cavalry, who had
+given us up for lost, had had their own long, fearful struggle. In the
+early morning, Lieutenant Stahl, scouting forward in an open plain,
+rushed back to give warning of Indians everywhere. And they were
+everywhere--a thousand strong against a feeble hundred caught in their
+midst. They rode like centaurs, and their aim was deadly true as they
+poured down, a murderous avalanche, from every hillslope. Their ponies'
+tails, sweeping the ground, lengthened by long horse-hair braids, with
+sticks thrust through at intervals by way of ornament; their waving
+blankets, and streamered lances held aloft; the savage roar from ten
+hundred throats; the mad impetus of their furious charge through clouds
+of dust and rifle smoke--all made the valley of the Prairie Dog seem but
+a seething hell bursting with fiendins shouts, shot through with
+quivering arrows, shattered by bullets, rocked with the thunderous beat
+of horses' hoofs, trampling it into one great maelstrom of blood and
+dirt.
+
+All day, with neither food nor water, amid bewildering bluffs and
+gorges, alive with savage warriors, the cavalrymen had striven
+desperately. Night fell, and in the clear moonlight they forced their
+way across the Prairie Dog, and neither man nor horse dared to stop to
+drink because an instant's pause meant death.
+
+And the evening and the morning were the first day. And the second was
+like unto it, albeit we were no longer a triangle, made up of
+wagon-train here and main command there, and our twenty-nine--less two
+lost ones--under Captain Jenness, at a third point. Before noon, our
+force was all united and we joined hands for the finish.
+
+Beverly and I rode side by side all day. Everywhere around us the
+half-breed, Charlie Bent, dashed boldly on his big, white horse calling
+us cowardly dogs and taunting us with lack of marksmanship.
+
+"I'm getting tired of that fellow, Gail. I'll pick his horse out from
+under him pretty soon, see if I don't." My cousin called to me as
+Bent's insolent cry burst forth:
+
+"Come out, and let me show you how to shoot."
+
+Beverly leaped out toward the Indian horde surrounding Bent. He raised
+his carbine, and with steady aim, fired far across the field of battle,
+the cleanest shot I ever saw. Years ago my cousin had urged Uncle Esmond
+to let him practise shooting on horseback. He was a master of the art
+now. Charlie Bent's splendid white steed fell headlong, hurling its
+rider to the ground and dragging him, face downward, in the dirt.
+
+I cannot paint that day's deeds with my pen, nor ever artist lived whose
+brush could reproduce it. If we should lose here, it meant the turning
+of the clock from morning back to midnight on the Kansas plains.
+
+Between this and the safety of the prairies stood fewer than a hundred
+and fifty men, against a thousand warriors, led by cunning half-breeds
+skilled in the white man's language and the red man's fiendishness.
+
+If we should lose--We did not go out there to lose. When each man does a
+man's part there is no failure possible at last.
+
+As the sun sank toward late afternoon, the savage force massed for its
+great, crushing blow that should annihilate us. The strong center, made
+up of the flower of every tribe engaged, was on the crest of a long,
+westward-reaching slope, a splendid company of barbaric
+warriors--strong, eager, vengeful, doggedly determined to finish now
+the struggle with the power they hated.
+
+The air was very clear, and in its crystal distances we could see every
+movement and hear each command.
+
+The valley rang with the taunts and jeers and threats and mocking
+laughter of our foes, daring us to come out and meet them face to face,
+like men. And we went out and met them face to face, like men.
+
+A little force of soldiery fighting, not for ourselves, but for the
+hearthstones of a nobler people, our cavalry swung up that long, western
+slope in the face of a murderous fire, into the very heart of Cheyenne
+strength, enforced by all the iron of the allied tribes. I marvel at it
+now, when, in solid phalanx, our foes might easily have mowed us down
+like a thin line of standing grain; for their numbers seemed unending,
+while flight on flight of arrows and fierce sheets of rifle-fire swept
+our ranks as we rode on to death or victory. But each man's face among
+us there was bright with courage, and with our steady force unchecked we
+swept right on to the very crest of the high slope, scattering the
+enemy, at last, like wind-blown autumn leaves, until upon our guidons
+victory rested and the long day was won.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+GONE OUT
+
+
+    I wander alone at dead of night,
+    But ever before me I see a light,
+    In darkest hours more clear, more bright;
+      And the hope that I bear fails never.
+
+        FREDRICH RUeCKERT.
+
+
+The waters of the Smoky Hill flowed yellow, flecked with foam, beside
+our camp, where, in a little grove of cottonwood trees, we rested from a
+long day's march. The heat of a late Kansas summer day was fanned away
+at twilight by the cool prairie breeze. There was an appealing something
+in the air that evening hour that made me homesick. So I went down
+beside the river to fight out my daily battle and let the wide spaces of
+the landscape soothe me, and all the opal tints of sunset skies and the
+soft radiance of a prairie twilight bring me their inspiration.
+
+Each day my heart-longing for the girl I must not love grew stronger. I
+wondered, as I sat here to-night, what trail would open for me when
+Beverly and Eloise should meet again, as lovers must meet some time. We
+had not once spoken her name between us, Bev and I, in all the days and
+nights since we had been in service on the plains.
+
+As I sat lonely, musing vaguely of a score of things that all ran back
+to one fair face, Beverly dropped down beside me. His face was grave and
+his eyes had a gentle, pleading look, something strange and different
+from the man whose moods I knew.
+
+"I'm homesick, Gail." He smiled as he spoke, and all the boy of all the
+years was in that smile.
+
+"So am I, Bev. It must be in the water here," I replied, lightly.
+
+But neither one misunderstood the other.
+
+"I'd like to see Little Lees to-night. Wouldn't you?" he asked,
+suddenly.
+
+The question startled me. Maybe my cousin wanted to confide in me here.
+I would not be selfish with him.
+
+"Yes, I always like to see her. Why to-night, though?" I asked,
+encouragingly.
+
+Beverly looked steadily into my face.
+
+"I want to tell you something, Gail. I haven't dared to speak before,
+but something tells me I should speak to-night," he said slowly.
+
+I looked away along the winding valley of the Smoky Hill. I must hear it
+some time. Why be a coward now?
+
+"Say on, I'm always ready to hear anything from you, Beverly."
+
+I tried to speak firmly, and I hoped my voice did not seem faltering to
+him. He sat silent a long while. Then he rose and straightened to his
+full height--a splendid form of strength and wholesomeness and grace.
+
+"I'll tell you some time soon, but not to-night. Honor is something with
+me yet."
+
+And so he left me.
+
+I dreamed of him that night with Eloise. And all of us were glad. I
+wakened suddenly. Beverly was standing near me. He turned and walked
+away, his upright form and gait, even in the faint light, individually
+Bev's own. I saw him lie down and draw his blanket about him, then sit
+up a moment, then nestle down again. Something went wrong with sleep and
+me for a long time, and once I called out, softly:
+
+"Bev, can't you sleep?"
+
+"Oh, shut up! Not if you fidget about me," he replied, with the old
+happy-go-lucky toss of the head and careless tone.
+
+It was dim dawn when I wakened. My cousin was sleeping calmly just a few
+feet away. An irresistible longing to speak to him overcame me and I
+slipped across and gently kicked the slumbering form. Two cavalry
+blankets rolled apart. A note pinned to the edge of one caught my eye. I
+stooped to read:
+
+     DEAR GAIL, Don't hate me. I'm sick of army life. They will call me
+     a coward and if they get me they will shoot me for a deserter. I
+     have disgraced the Clarenden name. You'll never see me again.
+     Good-bye, old boy.
+
+     BEV.
+
+Deserter!
+
+The yells of all the tribes in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+shrieked not so fiercely in my ears as that word rang now. And all the
+valley of the Smoky Hill echoed and re-echoed it.
+
+Deserter!
+
+My Beverly--who never told a lie, nor feared a danger, nor ever, except
+in self-defense, hurt a creature God had made. I could bury Bev, or
+stand beside him on his wedding-day. But Beverly disgraced! O, God of
+mercy toward all cowards, pity him!
+
+I sat down beside the blankets I had kicked apart and looked back over
+my cousin's life. It offered me no help. I thought of Eloise--and his
+longing to see her on the night before; of his struggle to tell me
+something. I knew now what that something was. Poor boy!
+
+He was not a boy, he was a man--strong, fearless, happy-hearted. How
+could the plains make cowards out of such as he? They had made a man of
+Jondo, who had all excuse to play the coward. The mystery of the human
+mind is a riddle past my reading--and I had always thought of Beverly's
+as an open book. The only one to whom I could turn now was not Eloise,
+nor my uncle, nor Mat nor Rex, but Jondo, John Doe, the nameless man,
+with whom Esmond Clarenden had walked all these years and for whose sake
+he had rescued Eloise St. Vrain. They had "toted together," as Aunty
+Boone had said. Oh, Aunty Boone with dull eyes of prophecy! I could hear
+her soft voice saying:
+
+"If you get into trouble, Mr. Bev, I come, hot streaks, to help you."
+
+She could not come "hot streaks" now, for Beverly had deserted. But
+there was Jondo.
+
+I wrote at once to him, inclosing the crumpled note, and then, as one
+who walks with neither sight nor feeling any more, I rode the plains and
+did a man's part in that Eighteenth Cavalry campaign of '67. The days
+went slowly by, bringing the long, bright autumn beauty to the plains
+and turning all the elms to gold along the creek at Burlingame. Time
+took away the sharp edge from our grief and shame, and left the dull
+pain that wears deeper and deeper, unnoticed by us; and all of us who
+had loved Beverly lived on and were cheerful for one another's sake.
+
+When Jondo--as only Jondo could--bore the news of my letter to Esmond
+Clarenden, he made no reply, but sat like an image of stone. Rex Krane
+broke down and sobbed as if his heart would break. But Mat, calm,
+poised, and always merciful, merely said:
+
+"We must wait awhile."
+
+It was many days before she broke the news to Eloise St. Vrain, who only
+smiled and said:
+
+"Gail is mistaken. Beverly couldn't desert."
+
+It was when the word came to Aunty Boone that the storm broke. They told
+me afterward that her face was terrible to see, and that her eyes grew
+dull and narrow. She went out to the bluff's edge and sat staring up the
+valley of the Kaw as if to see into the hidden record of the coming
+years.
+
+One October day, when the Kranes and Eloise sat with my uncle and Jondo
+in the soft afternoon air, looking out at the beauty of the Missouri
+bluffs, Aunty Boone loomed up before them suddenly.
+
+"I got somebody's fortune, just come clear before me," she declared, in
+her soft voice. "Lemme see you' hand, Little Lees!"
+
+Eloise put her shapely white hand upon the big, black paw.
+
+Aunty Boone patted it gently, the first and last caress she ever gave to
+any of us.
+
+"You' goin' to get a letter from a dark man. You' goin' to take a long
+journey. And somebody goin' with you. An' the one tellin' this is goin'
+away, jus' one more voyage to desset sands again, and see Africy and her
+own kingdom. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Never before, in all the years that we had known her, had she expressed
+a wish for her early home across he seas. Her voice trailed off weirdly,
+and she gazed at the Kaw Valley for a long moment. Then she said, in a
+low tone that thrilled her listeners with its vibrant power:
+
+"Bev ain't no deserter. He's gone out! Jus' gone out. Whoo-ee!"
+
+She disappeared around the corner of the house and stood long in the
+little side porch where Beverly had kissed Little Blue Flower one night
+in the "Moon of the Peach-Blossom," and Eloise had found them there, and
+I had unwittingly heard what was said.
+
+"Is there no variation in palmistry?" Rex Krane asked. "I never knew a
+gypsy in all my life who read a different set of prophecies. It's always
+the dark man--I'm light (darn the luck)--and a journey and a letter. But
+I thought maybe an African seer, a sort of Voodo, hoodoo, bugaboo, would
+have it a light man and a legacy and company coming, instead of you
+taking a journey, Eloise."
+
+Eloise smiled.
+
+"You musn't envy me my good fortune, Rex," she declared. "Aunty Boone
+says she is going back to Africa, too. You'll need a new cook, Uncle
+Esmond. Let me apply for the place right now."
+
+My uncle smiled affectionately on her.
+
+"I could give you a trial, as I gave her. I remember I told her if she
+could cook good meals I'd keep her; if not, she'd leave. Do you want to
+take the risk?"
+
+"That's where you'll get your journey of the prophecy, Eloise," Jondo
+suggested.
+
+"Well, you leave out the best part of it all," Mat broke in. "She added
+that Beverly isn't a deserter, he's just 'gone out.' Why don't you
+believe it all, serious or frivolous?"
+
+A shadow lifted from the faces there as a glimpse of hope came slowly
+in.
+
+"And as to letters, Eloise," Uncle Esmond said, "I must beg your pardon.
+I have one here for you that I had forgotten. It came this morning."
+
+"See if it isn't from a dark man, inviting you to take a journey," Rex
+suggested.
+
+"It must be, it's from Santa Fe," Eloise said, opening the letter
+eagerly.
+
+Aunty Boone had come back again and was standing by the corner of the
+veranda, half hidden by vines, watching Eloise with steady eyes. The
+girl's face grew pale, then deadly white, and her big, dark eyes were
+opened wide as she dropped the letter and looked at the faces about her.
+
+"It is from Father Josef," she gasped. "He writes of Little Blue Flower
+somewhere in Hopi-land. He asks me to go to Santa Fe at once for her
+sake. And it says, too--" The voice faltered and Eloise turned to Esmond
+Clarenden. "It says that Beverly is there somewhere and he wants you.
+Read it, Uncle Esmond."
+
+As Eloise rose and laid the letter in my uncle's hand, Aunty Boone,
+hidden by the vines, muttered in her soft, strange tone:
+
+"He's jus' gone out. Thank Jupiter! He's jus' gone out. I'm goin', hot
+streaks, to help him, too. Then I go to my own desset where I'm honin' o
+to be, an' stay there till the judgment Day. Whoo-ee!"
+
+In the early morning of a rare October day upon the plains I sat on my
+cavalry horse beside Fort Hays, waiting for one last word from my
+superior officer, Colonel Moore. He was my uncle's friend, and he had
+been kind to the Clarenden boys, as military kindness runs.
+
+"You are honorably discharged," he said. "Take these letters to Fort
+Dodge. You will meet your friends there, and have some safeguard from
+there on, by order of General Sheridan. God bless you, Gail. You have
+ridden well. I wish you a safe journey, and I hope you'll find your
+cousin soon. He was a splendid boy until this happened. He may be
+cleared some day."
+
+"He is splendid still to me in spite of everything," I replied.
+
+"Yes, yes," my colonel responded. "Never a Clarenden disgraced the name
+before. That is why General Sheridan is granting you a squad to help
+you. It is a great thing to have a good name. Good-by."
+
+"Good-by. I thank you a thousand times," I said, saluting him.
+
+"And I thank you. A chain, you know, is as strong as its weakest link. A
+cavalry troop is as able as its soldiers make it."
+
+He turned his horse about, and I rode off alone across the lonely plains
+a hundred miles away toward old Fort Dodge, beside the Arkansas River.
+Jondo and Rex were to meet me there for one more trip on the long Santa
+Fe Trail.
+
+
+Late September rains had blessed the valley of the Arkansas. The level
+land about Fort Dodge showed vividly green against the yellow sand-hills
+across the river, and the brown, barren bluffs westward, where a little
+city would one day rise in pretty picturesqueness. The scene was like
+the Garden of Eden to my eyes when I broke through the rough ridges to
+the north on the last lap of my long ride thither and hurried down to
+the fort. I grant I did not appear like one who had a right to enter
+Eden, for I was as brown as a Malayan. Nearly four months of hard
+riding, sleeping on the ground, with a sky-cover, eating buffalo meat,
+and drinking the dregs of slow-drying pools, had made a plainsman of me,
+of the breed that long since disappeared. Golf-sticks and automobile
+steering-wheels are held by hands to-day no less courageous than those
+that swung the carbine into place, and flung aside the cavalry
+bridle-rein in a wild onslaught in our epic day. Each age grows men,
+flanked by the coward and the reckless daredevil.
+
+Rex Krane was first to recognize me when I reached the fort.
+
+"Oh, we are all here but Mat: Clarenden, Jondo, Aunty Boone, and Little
+Lees; and a squad of half a dozen cavalry men are ready to go with us."
+Rex drawled in his old Yankee fashion, hiding an aching heart underneath
+his jovial greeting.
+
+"All of us!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes. Here they all come!" Rex retorted.
+
+They all came, but I saw only one, veiling the joy in my eyes as best I
+could. For with the face of Eloise before me, I knew the hardest battle
+of my life was calling me to colors. I had forgotten how womanly she
+was, or else her summer by the blessed prairies that lap up to the edge
+of the quiet town of Burlingame had brought her peace and helped her to
+put away sad memories of her mother.
+
+Behind her--a black background for her fair, golden head--was Aunty
+Boone.
+
+"Our girl was called to Santa Fe, and Daniel here goes with her. I
+couldn't stay behind, of course," my uncle said. "The Comanches are
+making trouble all along the Cimarron, and we will go up the Arkansas by
+the old trail route. It is farther, but the soldiers say much safer
+right now, and maybe just as quick for us. There is no load of freight
+to hinder us--two wagons and our mounts. Besides, the cavalrymen have
+some matters to look after near the mountains, or we might not have had
+their protection granted us."
+
+The beauty of that early autumn on the plains and mountains lingers in
+my memory still, though half a century has passed since that journey on
+the old, long trail to Santa Fe.
+
+At the closing of an Indian summer day we pitched our camp outside the
+broken walls of old Fort Bent. Every day found me near Eloise, although
+the same barrier was between us that had risen up the day she left me in
+the ruined chapel by the San Christobal River. Every day I longed to
+tell her what Beverly had said to me the night he--went out. It was due
+her that she should know how tenderly he had thought of her.
+
+The night was irresistible, soft and balmy for the time of year, as that
+night had been long ago when we children were marooned inside this
+stronghold. A thin, growing moon hung in the crystal heavens and all
+the shadowy places were softened with gray tones. Jondo and Uncle Esmond
+and Rex Krane were talking together. Aunty Boone was clearing up after
+the evening meal. The soldiers were about their tasks or pastimes. Only
+Eloise and I were left beside the camp-fire.
+
+"Let's go and find the place where we spent our last evening here,
+Little Lees," I said, determined to-night to tell her of Beverly.
+
+"And just as many other places as we can remember," Eloise replied.
+
+We clambered over heaps of fallen stone in the wide doorway, and stood
+inside the half-roofless ruin that had been a stronghold at the
+wilderness crossroads.
+
+The outer walls were broken here and there. The wearing elements were
+slowly separating the inner walls and sagging roofs. Heaps of debris lay
+scattered about. Over the caving well the well-sweep stuck awry, marking
+a place of danger. Everywhere was desolation and slow destruction.
+
+We sat down on some fallen timbers in the old court and looked about us.
+
+"It was a pity that Colonel Bent should have blown up this splendid
+fortress, and all because the Government wouldn't pay him his price for
+it," I declared.
+
+"Destroyed what he had built so carefully, and what was so useful,"
+Eloise commented. "Sometimes we wreck our lives in the same way."
+
+I have said the twilight seemed to fit her best, although at all times
+she was fair. But to-night she was a picture in her traveling dress of
+golden brown, with soft, white folds about her throat. I wondered if she
+thought of Beverly as she spoke. It hurt me so to be harsh with his
+memory.
+
+"Yes, Charlie Bent blew up all that the Colonel built into him, of
+education and the ways of cultured folks--a leader of a Dog Indian band,
+he is a piece of manhood wrecked. And by the way," I went on, "Beverly
+shot his beautiful white horse on the Prairie Dog Creek. You should have
+seen that shot. It was the cleanest piece of long-range marksmanship I
+ever saw. He hated Bev for that."
+
+"Maybe he gloats over our lost Beverly to-day. He is only 'gone out' to
+me," Eloise said softly.
+
+"Let me tell you something, Little Lees. Beverly and I never spoke of
+you--you can guess why--until that last night beside the Smoky Hill. He
+wanted to tell me something that night."
+
+"And did he?" Eloise asked, eagerly.
+
+"No. He said honor was something with him still. I thought he meant to
+tell me of himself and you. Forgive me. I do not want any confidences
+not freely given. But now I know it was the struggle in which he went
+down that night that he wanted to tell me about. He said first, 'I'm
+homesick. I'd like to see Little Lees.' And his eyes were full of
+sympathy as he looked at me."
+
+"Did he say anything more?" Eloise's voice was almost a whisper.
+
+"That was all. I thought that night I should hunt a lonely trail--when
+he went home to claim--happiness. But now I feel that I could live
+beside him always--to have him safe with us again."
+
+As I turned to look at Eloise something was in her big, dark
+eyes--something that disappeared at once. I caught only a fleeting
+glimpse of it, and I could not understand why a thrill of something near
+to happiness should sweep through me. It was but the shadow of what
+might have been for me and was not.
+
+"Do you recall our prophecies here that night when we were children?"
+Eloise asked.
+
+"Yes, every one. Mat wanted a home, Bev to fight the Indians, and you
+wanted me to keep Marcos Ramero in his place. I tried to do it," I
+replied.
+
+And both of us recalled, but did not speak of, the warm, childish kiss
+of Little Lees upon my lips, and how we gripped hands in the shadows
+when the moon went cold and grey. Life was so simple then.
+
+"It may be, if our problems and our tragedies crowd into our younger
+years, they clear the way for all the bright, unclouded years to
+follow," Eloise said, as we rose to go back to the camp-fire.
+
+"I hope they will leave us strong to meet the bright, unclouded years,"
+I answered her.
+
+On the next day the cavalrymen left us for a time, and we went on alone
+southward toward our journey's end.
+
+Autumn on the mountain slopes, and in the mesa-girdled valleys of New
+Mexico hung rainbow-tinted lights by day, with star-beam pointed paths
+trailing across the blue night-sky. And all the rugged beauty of a
+picturesque land, basking in lazy warmth, out-breathing sweet, pure air,
+made the old trail to Santa Fe an enchanting highway to me, despite the
+burden of a grief that weighed me down. For I could not shut from my
+mind the pitiful call of Little Blue Flower that had come to Eloise, nor
+all the uncertainty surrounding my cousin somewhere in the Southwest
+wanting us.
+
+The little city of adobe walls seemed not to have changed a hair's turn
+in the six years since I had seen it last. Out beyond the sandy arroyo
+again Father Josef waited for us. The same strong face and dark eyes,
+full of fire, the same erect form and manly bearing were his. Except for
+a few streaks of gray in his close-cropped hair the years had wrought no
+change in him, save that his countenance betokened the greater
+benediction of a godly life upon it. As we rode slowly to the door of
+San Miguel I fell behind. The years since that day when the saucy little
+girl had called me a big, brown, bob-cat here came back upon my mind,
+and, though my hope had vanished, still I loved the old church.
+
+Before we had passed the doorway Eloise left her wagon and stood beside
+my horse.
+
+"Gail, let us stop here with Father Josef while the others go down to
+Felix Narveo's. It always seems so peaceful here."
+
+"You are always welcome here, my children," Father Josef said,
+graciously, as I leaped from my horse and stuck its lariat pin down
+beside the doorway.
+
+Inside there were the same soft lights from the high windows, the same
+rare old paintings about the altar, the same seat beside the door.
+
+The priest spoke to us in low tones befitting sanctuary stillness. "You
+have come on a long journey, but it is one of mercy. I only pray you do
+not come too late," he said.
+
+"Tell us about it, Father," Eloise urged. "The men will get the story
+from Felix Narveo, but Gail and I seem to belong up here." She smiled up
+at me with the words.
+
+I could have almost hoped anew just then, but for the thought of
+Beverly.
+
+"Let us pray first," the holy man replied.
+
+Beverly and I had been confirmed in the Episcopalian faith once long
+ago, but the plains were hard on the religion of a high-church man. And
+yet, all sacred forms are beautiful to me, and I always knew what
+reverence means.
+
+"You may not know," Father Josef said, "that I have Indian blood in my
+veins--a Hopi strain from some French ancestors. Po-a-be, our Little
+Blue Flower, is my heathen cousin, descended from the same chief's
+daughter. The Hopi's faith is a part of him, like his hand or eye, and I
+have never gained much with the tribe save through blood-ties. But
+because of that I have their confidence."
+
+"You have all men's confidence, Father Josef," I said, warmly.
+
+"Thank you, my son," the priest replied. "When Santan, the Apache, came
+back from a long raid eastward, he told Little Blue Flower that Beverly
+had spared his life beside a poisoned spring in the Cimarron valley,
+urging him to go back and marry her; life had other interests now to
+white men who must forget all about Indian girls, he declared, and with
+Apache adroitness he pressed his claims upon her. But Santan had slain
+Sister Anita beside the San Christobal Arroyo. A murderer is abhorrent
+to a Hopi, who never takes life, save in self-defense or in legitimate
+warfare--if warfare ever is legitimate," he added, gravely.
+
+"My little cousin was heart-broken, for all the years since her rescue
+at Pawnee Rock she had cherished one face in memory; and maybe Beverly
+in his happy, careless way had given her cause to do so."
+
+"We understand, I think," Eloise said, turning inquiringly to me.
+
+I nodded, and Father Josef went on. "She knew her love was foolish, but
+few of us are always wise in love. So Santan's suit seemed promising for
+a time. But the Hopi type ran true in her, and she put off the Apache
+year after year. It is a strange case in Indian romance, but romance
+everywhere is strange enough. The Apache type also ran true to dogged
+purpose. Besides being an Apache, Santan has some Ramero blood in his
+veins, to be accounted for in the persistence of an evil will. He was
+as determined to win Po-a-be as she that he should fail. And he was
+cunning in his schemes."
+
+Father Josef paused and looked at Eloise.
+
+"To make the story short," he began again, "Santan could not make the
+Hopi woman hate Beverly, although she knew that her love was hopeless,
+as it should be. Pardon me, daughter," Father Josef said, gently. "She
+heard you two talking in a little porch one night at the Clarenden home,
+and she has believed ever since that you are lovers. That is why she
+sent for you to come to help her now."
+
+"I saw Beverly give Little Blue Flower a brotherly kiss that night, and
+I told him, frankly, how it grieved me, because I had known at St. Ann's
+about her love for him. I had urged her to go with me to the
+Clarendens', hoping that when she saw Beverly again she would quit
+dreaming of him."
+
+I looked away, at the paintings and the crucifix above the altar, and
+the long shafts of light on gray adobe walls, wondering, vaguely, what
+the next act of this drama might reveal.
+
+"Beverly was always lovable," Father Josef said. "But now the message
+comes that he is out in the heart of Hopi-land, and because Little Blue
+Flower is protecting him her people may turn against her. For Beverly's
+sake, and for her sake, too, my daughter, we must start at once to find
+her and maybe save his life. She wants you. It is the call of
+sisterhood. Sister Gloria and I will go with you. I have much influence
+with my Hopi people."
+
+"Will they put Beverly to death?" I asked.
+
+"I cannot tell, but--see how long the arm of hate can be, my
+son--Santan, the Apache, has been informed of Beverly's coming by Marcos
+Ramero, gambler and debauchee. And Marcos got it in some way from
+Charlie Bent, a Cheyenne half-breed, son of old Colonel Bent, a fine old
+gentleman. Maybe you knew young Bent?"
+
+"Yes, he holds a grudge against the Clarenden name because we made him
+play square with us at the old fort when we were children," I told the
+priest. "He yelled defiance at us in the battle on the Prairie Dog Creek
+last August. Bev shot his horse from under him just to humble the
+insolent dog! Beverly never was a coward," I insisted, all my affection
+for my cousin overwhelming me.
+
+"This makes it clearer," Father Josef said. "Through Bent to Ramero and
+Ramero to Santan, the word went, somehow. The Apache has gathered up a
+band of the worst of his breed and they are moving against the Hopis to
+get Beverly. You and Jondo and Clarenden and Krane will join the little
+squad of cavalry you left up in the mountains, and turn the Apache back,
+and all of us must start at once, or we may be too late. May heaven
+bless our hands and make them strong."
+
+We bowed in reverence for a moment. When we hurried from the dim church
+into the warm October sunlight, Aunty Boone sat on the door-step beside
+my horse.
+
+"'He's jus' gone out,' I told 'em so, back there on the Missouri River.
+He's gone out an' I'm goin', hot streaks, to find him, Little Lees.
+Whoo-ee!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE INFINITE
+
+
+     And though there's never a grave to tell,
+     Nor a cross to mark his fall,
+     Thank God! we know that he "batted well"
+     In the last great Game of all.
+
+         --SERVICE.
+
+
+We left Santa Fe within an hour, and struck out toward the unknown land
+where Beverly Clarenden, in the midst of uncertain friends, was being
+hunted down by an Apache band. As our little company passed out on the
+trail toward Agua Fria, I recalled the day when we had gone with Rex
+Krane to this little village beside the Santa Fe River. Eloise and
+Father Josef and Santan and Little Blue Flower were all there that day;
+and Jondo, although we did not know it then. Rex Krane had told Beverly,
+going out, that an Indian never forgets. In all the years Santan had not
+forgotten.
+
+To-day we covered the miles rapidly. Jondo and Father Josef rode ahead,
+with Esmond Clarenden and Felix Narveo following them; then came Eloise
+St. Vrain with Sister Gloria; behind them, Aunty Boone, with Rex and
+myself bringing up the rear. Three pack-mules bearing our equipment
+went tramping after us with bobbing ears and sturdy gait.
+
+I looked down the line of our little company ahead. The four men in the
+lead were college chums once, and all of them had loved the mother of
+the girl behind them. I have said the girl looked best by twilight. I
+had not seen her in a coarse-gray riding-dress when I said that. I had
+seen her when she needed protection from her enemies. I had not seen her
+until to-day, going out to meet hardship fearlessly, for the sake of one
+who wanted her--only an Indian maiden, but a faithful friend. In the
+plainest face self-forgetfulness puts a beauty all its own. That beauty
+shone resplendent now in the beautiful face of Mary Marchland's
+daughter.
+
+The world can change wonderfully in sixty minutes. As we rode out toward
+the Rio Grande, the yellow sands, the gray gramma grass, the purple
+sage, the tall green cliffs, and, high above, the gleaming snow-crowned
+peaks, took on a beauty never worn for me before. Why should a hope
+spring up within me that would die as other hopes had died? But back of
+all my thought was the longing to help Beverly, and a faith in Aunty
+Boone's weird, prophetic grip on things unseen. He had just "gone out"
+to her--why not to all of us? I could not understand Little Blue
+Flower's part in this tragedy, so I let it alone.
+
+A day out from Santa Fe we were joined by the little squad of cavalrymen
+with whom we had parted company back at the Fort Bent camping-place.
+With these we had little cause to dread personal danger. The Apache band
+was a small, vicious gang that could do much harm to the Hopis, but it
+seemed nothing for us to fear.
+
+Our care was to reach Beverly before the Hopis should rise up against
+Little Blue Flower, or the band led by Santan should fall upon them.
+Father Josef had sent a runner on to tell them of our coming and to warn
+them of the Apache raid. But runners sometimes come to grief.
+
+It is easy enough now to sleep most of the hours away across the and
+lands that lie between the Rockies and the Coast Range mountains, where
+the great "through limiteds," swinging down their long trail of steel,
+sweep farther in one day than we crept in two long, weary weeks in that
+October fifty years ago. Only Father Josef's unerring Indian accuracy
+brought us through.
+
+We crawled up rugged mountain trails and skirted the rims of dizzy
+chasms; we wound through canons, with only narrow streams for paths,
+between sheer walls of rock; we pitched our camp at the bases of great,
+red sand stone mesas, barren of life; we followed long, yellow ways over
+stretches of unending plain; we wandered in the painted-desert lands,
+where all the colors God has made bewilder with their beauty, in the
+barest, dreariest, most unlovely bit of unfinished world that our great
+continent holds; the lands forgotten, maybe, when, in Creation's busy
+week, the evening and the morning were the sixth day, and the Great
+Builder looked on His work and called it good.
+
+We found the Hopi trails, but not the Hopi clan that we were seeking. We
+found Apache trails behind them, but only dimly marked, as if they blew
+one moccasin track full of sand before they made another.
+
+The October days were dreams of loveliness, and dawn and sunset on the
+desert were indescribably beautiful. But the nights were bitterly cold.
+Eloise and Sister Gloria were native to the Southwest and they knew how
+to dress warmly for it. Aunty Boone had never felt such chilling night
+breezes, but not one word of complaint came from her lips in all that
+journey.
+
+One night we gathered into camp beneath the shelter of a little butte.
+We had overtaken Father Josef's Indian runner an hour before. He had not
+found the Hopis yet, and so we held a council.
+
+"The Hopi is ahead of us northwest," the Indian declared.
+
+"Is the Apache following?" Jondo asked.
+
+The runner nodded. "They have been pursued, but they have slipped away;
+the Apache goes north, they turn north-west. They take the dry lands and
+the pine forests beyond; their last chance. If they hold out till the
+Apache leaves, they will return safely. You follow them, wait for them,
+or go back without them. It is your choice."
+
+We turned toward the three women, one in the bloom of her young
+womanhood, one with the patient endurance of the nun, one black and
+strong and always unafraid.
+
+"I do not want to leave Little Blue Flower in her hour of peril," Eloise
+said.
+
+"I can go where I am needed," Sister Gloria declared.
+
+"This is my land, I never know Africa was right out here. I thought they
+was oceans on both sides of it. I go where Bev's gone out an then I come
+here and stay. Whoo-ee!"
+
+We smiled at her mistaken dream of her far African home, and, cheering
+one another on, when morning came we moved northwest.
+
+Jondo rode beside me all that day, and we talked of many things.
+
+"Gail," he said, "Aunty Boone is right. This is her Africa. I don't
+believe she will ever leave it."
+
+"She can't stay here, Jondo," I replied.
+
+"She will, though. You will see. Did she ever fail to have her way?"
+
+"No. She is a type of her own, never to be reproduced, but like a great
+dog in her faithful loyalty," I declared.
+
+"And shrewder than most men," Jondo went on. "She supplied the lost link
+with Santan for me last night. Years ago, when Little Blue Flower
+brought me a message from Father Josef on the morning that we took
+Eloise from Santa Fe, I caught a glimpse of the Apache across the plaza
+and read the message--_'trust the bearer anywhere'_--to mean that boy.
+Aunty Boone had just peered out and scared the little girl away. She
+told me all about it last night, when she was bewailing Beverly's hard
+fate. How small a thing can open the road to a big tragedy. I trusted
+that whelp till that day at San Christobal."
+
+"I hope we will finish this soon," I said. "I don't understand Beverly
+at all and I marvel at Little Blue Flower's love for him. Don't you?"
+
+Jondo looked up with a pathos in his dark-blue eyes.
+
+"Don't hurry, Gail. The trails all end somewhere soon. Life is a
+stranger thing from day to day, but the one thing that no man will ever
+fully understand is a woman's love for man. There is only one thing
+higher, and that is mother-love."
+
+"The kind that you and Uncle Esmond have," I said.
+
+"Oh, I am only a man, but Clarenden has a woman's heart, as you and
+Beverly and my sister's child all know."
+
+"Your sister's child?" I gasped.
+
+"Yes. When her parents went with yellow fever, too, I could not adopt
+Mat--you know why. Clarenden did it for me. She has always known that I
+am her uncle, but Mat was always a self-contained child."
+
+I loved Mat more than ever from that hour.
+
+The next day our trail ran into pine forests, where tall, shapely trees
+point skyward. Not a dense woodland, but a seemingly endless one. Snows
+lay in the darker places, and here and there streams trickled out into
+the sunlight, whose only sources were these melting snows. It was a
+land of silence and loneliness--a land forgotten or unknown to record.
+The Hopi trail was stronger here and we followed it eagerly, but night
+overtook us early in the forest.
+
+That evening we gathered about a huge fire of pine boughs beneath a low
+stone ridge covered with evergreen trees that sheltered us warmly from
+the sharp west winds. We heard the cries of night-roving beasts, and in
+the darkness, now and then, a pair of gleaming eyes, seen for an
+instant, and then the rush of feet, told us that some wild creature had
+looked for the first time on fire.
+
+"To-morrow night will see our journey's end," Jondo declared. "The Hopi
+can't be far away, and I'm sure they are safe yet, and we shall reach
+them before the Apache does."
+
+The Indian runner's face did not change its blankness, but I felt that
+he doubted Jondo's judgment. That night he slipped away and we never saw
+him again.
+
+We were all hopeful that night, and hopeful the next morning when we
+broke camp early. A trail we had not seen the night before ran up the
+low ridge to the west of us. Eloise and I followed it up a little way,
+riding abreast. The ridge really was a narrow, rocky tableland, and
+beyond it was another higher slope, up which the same trail ran. The
+trees were growing smaller and the sky flowed broad and blue above their
+tops. The ground was only rock, with a thin veneer of soil here and
+there. Gnarled, stunted cedars and gray, twisted cypress clung for a
+roothold to these barren ledges. The morning breeze swept, sharp and
+invigorating, out of a broad open space beyond the edge of this rocky
+woodland height. Eloise and I pushed on a little farther, leaving the
+others still on the narrow shelf above our camping-place.
+
+Suddenly, as we rode out of the closer timber to where the scattered
+growths were hardly higher than our heads, the first heaven and the
+first earth seemed to pass away--not in irreverence I write it--and we
+stood face to face with a new heaven and a new earth--where, in the
+Grand Canon of the Colorado River, the sublimity of the Almighty
+Builder's beauty and omnipotence was voiced in one stupendous Word,
+wrought in enduring color in everlasting stone. Cleaving its way
+westward to some far-off sea, a wide abyss, a dozen miles across from
+lip to lip, yawned down to the very vitals of the earth. We stood upon
+the rim of it--a sheer cliff that dropped a thousand feet of solid
+limestone, in one plummet line, to other cliffs below, that dropped
+again through furlongs of black gneiss, red sandstone, and gray granite.
+
+Beyond this mighty chasm great forest trees were, to our eyes, only as
+weeds along its rim. Between that rim and ours we could look down upon
+high mountain buttes and sloping red tablelands, and dizzy gorges with
+pinnacled walls and towers and domes--vast forms no pen will ever
+picture--not hurled in wild confusion by titan fury, but symmetrical and
+purposeful and calm.
+
+Through slowly crawling millions of patiently wearing years, while stars
+grew old and perished from the firmament, with cloud, and frost, and
+wind, and water, and sharp cutting sands, these strata of the old
+earth's crust were chiseled into gigantic outlines, and all the
+worn-down, crumbled atoms of debris were swept through long, tortuous
+leagues of distance toward the sea by a mad river swirling through the
+lowest depths. A mile straight down, as the crow never flies here, it
+rushes, but to us the river was a mere creek, seen only where the lower
+gorges open to the channel.
+
+In the early light of that October morning the weird, vast shapes that
+filled, the abyss were bathed in a bewildering opulence of color. Pale
+gold along the farther rim, with pink and amber, blue and gray, and
+heliotrope and rose--all blending softly, tone on tone. Deeper, the
+heart of every rift and chasm that flows into the one stupendous
+mother-rift was full of purple shadows. Not the thin lavender of the
+upper world where we must live, but tensely, richly regal, beyond words
+to paint; with silvery mists above, soft, filmy veils that draped the
+jutting rocks and rounded each harsh edge, melting pink to rose and gray
+to violet. Eternal silence brooded over all this symbol, wrought in
+visible form, of His Almightiness, to whom a thousand years are as a
+day, and in the hollow of whose hand He holds the universe. Measureless,
+motionless, voiceless, it seemed as if all the canons of all the
+mountains of our great contienent might have given to it here
+their awful depth and height and rugged strength; their picturesqueness,
+color, graceful outlines, dizzy steeps and awe-inspiring lengths and
+breadths. And fusing all these into itself, height on height, and
+breadth on breadth, entrancing charm on charm, with all the hues that
+the Great Alchemist can throw from His vast prism, it seemed to say:
+
+"'Twas only in a vision that St. John saw the four-square city whose
+twelve gates are each a single pearl! whose walls are builded on
+foundation stones of jasper, sapphire, and chalcedony, emerald and
+topaz, chrysolite and amethyst; whose streets are of pure gold, like
+unto clear glass; whose light is ever like unto a stone most precious.
+
+"To you who may not dream the vision beautiful, the Mighty Maker of all
+things sublime has given me a token here in finite stone and earthly
+coloring of that undreamed sublimity of all things omnipotent."
+
+My companion and I sat on our horses speechless, gazing down at this
+overwhelming marvel below us. We forgot ourselves, each other, our
+companions of the journey, its purpose, Beverly, and his enemy Santan,
+the desert, the brown plains, green prairies, rivers, mountains, the
+earth itself, as we stood there in the shadow of the Infinite.
+
+At last we turned and looked into each other's eyes for one long moment.
+In its space we read the old, old story through, and a great,
+up-leaping joy illumined our faces. God, who had let us know each
+other, had let us stand by _this_ to feel the barrier of
+misunderstanding fall away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A sound of horses' hoofs on the rocky slope below us, a weird Indian
+call, and a great shout from our calverymen drew us to earth
+again. The Hopis were coming. Father Josef knew the signal. Our Indian
+runner had found them in the night and sent them toward us. We dashed
+into the forest, keeping close together; and here, a mile away, under
+green pines, surrounded by a little group of a desert Hopi clan, was
+Beverly Clarenden--big, strong, unhurt and joyful. And Little Blue
+Flower.
+
+The years since that far night when I had seen two maidens in Grecian
+robes beside the Flat Rock in the "Moon of the Peach Blossom," had left
+no trace on Eloise St. Vrain, save to imprint the graces of womanliness
+on her girlish face. But the picturesque Indian maiden of that night
+looked aged and sorrowful in the pine forest of her native land, bent,
+as she was, with the dull existence of her own people; she, who had
+known and loved a different form of life. Only the big, luminous eyes
+held their old charm.
+
+We came together in a little open space with pine-trees all about us.
+The minutes went swiftly then--and I must hurry to what came hurrying
+on, for much of it is lost in mist and wonder.
+
+In the moment of glad reunion Aunty Boone suddenly gave a whoop the
+like of which I had never heard before, and, dashing wildly toward
+Eloise and Sister Gloria, she drove them in a fierce charge straight
+back into the shelter of the pine-trees.
+
+At the same time a sudden rain of bullets, like a swift hail-storm, and
+a yell--the Apache cry of vengeance--filled the air. Long afterward we
+learned that our Indian runner had met this band and tried to turn it
+back--and failed. He would have saved us if he could.
+
+It was over soon--that encounter in the forest where each tree was a
+shield. The cavalrymen and maybe, too, we who had been plainsmen, knew
+how to drive back a villianous handful of Apaches. In any other
+moment since we had ridden out of Sante Fe we would have laughed
+at such a struggle. They took us in the most unguarded instant of that
+fortnight's journey.
+
+The Hopis fled wildly out of sight. Here and there, from the defeated,
+scattered band, an Apache warrior sprang back and lost himself quickly
+in the shadows. But Santan, plunging into our very midst, seized Little
+Blue Flower in his iron grip, and the bullet from a cavalry carbine,
+meant for him, struck her.
+
+He laughed and threw her back and, whirling, dashed--into the arms of
+Aunty Boone--and stopped.
+
+We carried our wounded tenderly up the steep wooded slope and out into
+the sweet sunlight of its crest, where we laid them down beside that
+wondrous rift with its shimmering mist and velvet shadows, and colorings
+of splendor, folded all in the magnificence of its immensity and its
+eternal silence.
+
+We knew that Jondo's wound was mortal, and Father Josef and Eloise and
+Rex Krane sat beside him, as the brave eyes looked out across the
+sublimity of earthly beauty toward the far land no eye hath seen,
+facing, unafraid, the outward-leading trail.
+
+But Beverly was in the prime of young manhood, and we felt sure of him,
+as Esmond Clarenden and Sister Gloria; and I ministered to his wants.
+
+"It's no use, Gail." My cousin lifted a pleading face to mine a moment,
+as on that day, years ago on the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. Then
+the bright smile came back to stay.
+
+"Why, Bev, you have a life before you, and you aren't the only
+Eighteenth Kansas man who deserted. We can pull you through somehow--and
+people will forget. Even General Sheridan was willing to send a squad
+with us, on the possibility of a mistake somewhere."
+
+"Deserted!" Beverly's voice was too strong for a dying man's. "Uncle
+Esmond, Jondo, Eloise--all of you--Gail calls me a deserter. Me! Knock
+him over that precipice, won't some of you?"
+
+We listened eagerly as he went on:
+
+"Why, don't you know that Charlie Bent and his renegade dogs crawled
+into camp like snakes and carried me out by force. They had a time of
+it, too, but never mind. Bent told me he left a note for you. I supposed
+he would say I was dead. And when Gail stirred, half awake, he went
+pacing around the camp, looking so near like me I thought it was myself
+and I was Charlie Bent. I was roped and gagged then, but I could see.
+Deserter! I'm glad I got that white horse of his on the Prairie Dog
+Creek, anyhow."
+
+Beverly's face paled suddenly and he lay still a little while.
+
+"I'd better hurry." The smile was winsome. "They didn't give me a ghost
+of a chance to escape, but they didn't harm a hair. They kept me for a
+meaner purpose, and, well, I was landed, finally, at Santan's door-step
+in the Apache-land. Santan offered to let me go free if I'd persuade
+Little Blue Flower--dead down there--to marry him. He had her come to me
+on pretense of my sending for her. She hated the brute, and she was a
+woman, if she was an Indian. I told him I'd see him in hell first, and I
+told her never to give in. Poor girl! It was a cruel test, but Santan
+knew how to be cruel. He said he'd fix me, and I guess he has done it."
+
+"Oh no, Bev. You are good for a century," I declared, affectionately,
+holding his head on my knee.
+
+"Little Blue Flower managed, somehow, to fool the Apache dog, and we
+escaped and got away to her people," Beverly continued, speaking more
+slowly, "then she sent word to Father Josef. But the Hopi folks were
+scared about the Apaches coming against them on account of harboring
+me, like a Jonah, among 'em; and they were going to make it hard for
+Little Blue Flower. I don't know heathen ethics in such things, but a
+handful of us had to cut for it. I'm no deserter, though. Don't forget
+that. As soon as I could be sure the little Indian woman's life was safe
+I was going to get away and come home. I could not leave her to be
+sacrificed after she had saved me from Santan's scalping-knife."
+
+Beverly paused and looked at us. His voice seemed weaker when he spoke
+again:
+
+"I thought, sometimes, that even if I wasn't to blame for it, I ought to
+take Little Blue Flower with me when I got away. Dear little girl! she
+gave me one smile and whispered _'Lolomi'_ before she went just now. I
+told her long ago I was just everybody's friend. I never meant to spoil
+anybody's life, and I can meet her down at the end of the trail and
+never fear."
+
+Just then a half-wailing, half-purring cry came from Aunty Boone, who
+was standing beside a gnarled cypress-tree.
+
+"I knowed the morning we picked up Little Blue Flower, back at Pawnee
+Rock, we was pickin' up trouble for the rest of the trail. I see it
+then. You can trust a nigger 'cause they never no 'count, but you don't
+know what you gettin' when you trust an Indian. But, Cla'nden, that
+Apache Indian, Santan, ain't goin' to trouble you no more. When the
+world ain't no fit place for folks they needs helpin' out of it, and I
+sees to it they gets it, too. Whoo-ee!" She paused and leaned against
+the crooked cypress. Half turning her face toward us, she continued in a
+clear, soft voice:
+
+"That man they call Ramero down in Santy Fee--I knowed him when he was
+just Fred Ramer back in the rice-fields country. His father, old man
+Ramer, tried to kill me once, 'cause he said I knowed too much. I helped
+him into kingdom come right then and saved a lot of misery. They blamed
+some other folks, I guess, but they never hunted me up at all. Good-by,
+Clan'den, and you, too, Felix, and Dick Verra. I've knowed you all these
+years, but nobody takes no 'count of niggers' knowin's. Good-by, Little
+Lees, and all you boys. I'll see you again pretty soon, I'm goin' back
+to my desset now. It's over yonder just a little way. Jondo--but you
+won't be John Doe then. Whoo-ee!"
+
+Aunty Boone slowly settled down beside the cypress, with her face toward
+her beloved "desset," and when we went to her a little later, her eyes,
+still looking eastward, saw nothing earthly any more forever.
+
+Jondo's face seemed glorified as he caught Aunty Boone's last words, and
+his voice was sweet and clear as he looked up at Eloise bending over
+him.
+
+"Thank God! It is all made right at last. Eloise, the charge of murder
+against your father's name would have broken the heart of the woman that
+I always loved--your mother. One of us had to bear the shame. I took the
+guilt on myself for her sake--and for yours. I have walked the trails
+of my life a nameless man, but I have kept my soul clean in God's sight,
+and I know His name will soon be written on my forehead over there."
+
+He gazed out toward the glorious beauty of the view beyond him, then
+closed his eyes, and, bravely as he had lived, so bravely he went forth
+on the Long Trail, leaving a name sweet with the perfume of
+self-sacrifice and love.
+
+We did not speak of him to Beverly, for our boy had suddenly grown
+restless, and his blood was threshing furiously in his veins, and he was
+in pain, but only briefly.
+
+Presently he said, "Let us be alone a little." The others drew away.
+
+"Lean down, Gail. I want to tell you something." He smiled sweetly upon
+me as I bent over him.
+
+"I tried to tell you back on the Smoky Hill, but I'd promised not to.
+And honor was something to me still. But I'm going pretty soon. So
+listen! I loved Eloise always--always. But she never cared for me. She
+was only my good chum. I've been too happy-hearted all my days, though,
+Gail, to make a cross of anything that would break me down. Men differ
+so, you know, and I never was a dreamer like you. Turn me a little,
+won't you, so that I can see that awful beauty down there."
+
+I lifted his shoulders gently and placed him where his eyes could rest
+on the majestic scene spread out before him.
+
+"Eloise loves you, but she thinks you would not marry her because they
+say her father was a murderer. I don't believe that, Gail. I told her
+that you didn't, either, not one little minute. You care for her, I
+know, and losing her will break your heart. I tried to tell you long
+ago, but Little Lees made me promise not to say a word that night at
+Burlingame when you had gone away and I thought maybe I had a
+half-chance with her. Tell me you'll make her happy, Gail."
+
+"Oh, Beverly, I'll do my best," I murmured, softly.
+
+"Come closer, Gail. Look at those colors there. Is it so far across, or
+only seeming so? And see the soft white clouds drop purple shadows down.
+Is that the way the trail runs? How beautiful it must be farther on.
+Good-by, old boy of my heart's heart, and don't forget, however long the
+years, and wide away your feet may go, to keep the old trail law. 'Hold
+fast.'"
+
+We laid them away in the deep pine forest--Aunty Boone, of strange,
+prophetic vision; Santan, the cruel Indian; the loyal Hopi maiden; Jondo
+and Beverly. God made them all and in His heaven they will be rightly
+placed.
+
+Beside the canon's rim, in the soft twilight hour of that October day,
+Eloise St. Vrain and I plighted our troth, till death us do part--for
+just a little while. Plighted it not in happy, selfish affection, such
+as youth and maiden give, sometimes, each to each; but in the deep,
+marvelous love of man and woman pledged where, in sacred moments on
+that day, we had seen the mortal put on immortality. To us there could
+be no grander, richer, lovelier setting for life's best and holiest hour
+than here, where, upon things finite, there rests the beneficent
+uplifting beauty that shadows forth the Infinite.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+REMEMBERING THE TRAIL
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+  The heart that's never old! Oh the heart that's never old!--
+  'Tis a vision of the lavender, the crimson and the gold
+  Of an airy, fairy morning, when the sky is all ablaze
+  With an ever-changing splendor, driving back the gloom and haze!
+
+  'Tis the vision of an orchard in the balmy month of May,
+  Where the birds are ever singing, and the leaves are ever gay;
+  Where the sun is ever shining with a glory never told,
+  And the trees are ever blooming--for the heart that's never old!
+
+   --JAMES E. HILKEY.
+
+
+The summers and winters of fifty golden years have brought to the plains
+their balmy breezes and blazing heat, their soft, life-giving showers,
+and their fierce, blizzard anger. And down through these fifty years
+Eloise St. Vrain and I have walked the love trails of the plains
+together.
+
+In the early spring of this, our "golden-wedding" year, we sat on the
+veranda of our suburban home in Kansas City, above the picturesque Cliff
+Drive, rippling with automobiles. The same drive winds in its course
+somewhere near the old, rough road that once led from the Clarenden
+home, above the valley of the Kaw, down to the little city of great
+promise--now fulfilled.
+
+"Eloise, youth may have a charm that is all its own," I said to my wife,
+"but I wonder if it really matches the enduring charm of age when one
+looks back on busy years of service."
+
+Eloise smiled up at me--the same gracious smile that has lighted all my
+days with her.
+
+"You are a dreamer still, Gail. But dreams do so sweeten life and keep
+the fires of romance forever burning."
+
+"When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked.
+
+"I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door of the
+old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you looking like a big,
+brown bob-cat, or something else, that might have slept in the Hondo
+'Royo all your life. But withal a boy so loyal to the helpless that you
+were willing to fight for me against an assailant bigger than yourself.
+You became my prince in that hour, and all my dreams since then have
+been of you. When did romance begin with you, or have you forgotten in
+the busy years of a life swallowed up in mercantile pursuits?"
+
+"My life may have been, as you say, swallowed up in building trade that
+builds empire, but I have never forgotten the things that make it fine
+to me," I answered her. "Romance for me began one day, long ago, out on
+the parade-ground at Fort Leavenworth. I've been a Vanguard of the
+Plains since then, bull-whacker for the ox-teams that hauled the
+commerce of the West; cavalryman in hard-wearing Indian campaigns that
+defended the frontier; and merchant, giving measure for measure always,
+like that grand man who taught me the worth of business--Esmond
+Clarenden."
+
+"On the parade-ground? How there?" Eloise asked.
+
+"It came the day that I first knew we were to go with Uncle Esmond to
+Santa Fe--for you. We didn't know that it was for you then. I think I
+was born again that day into a daring plainsman, who had been a sort of
+baby-boy before. I sat with Mat and Beverly on the edge of the
+parade-ground, when I looked up to see, with a boy's day-dreaming eyes,
+somewhere this side of misty mountain peaks, a vision of a cloud of
+golden hair about a sweet child face, with dark eyes looking into mine.
+That vision stayed with me until, one morning, fifty years ago, on the
+rim of the Grand Canon--you looked into my eyes again and I knew my life
+dream had come true."
+
+I rose and, bending over my wife's cloud of beautiful silvery hair, I
+kissed her gently on each fair cheek.
+
+"Gail, why not take the old trail for our golden-wedding anniversary--a
+long journey, clear to the mountains?" Eloise suggested.
+
+"There is no trail now; only its ghost haunting the way," I replied,
+"but, Little Lees, I don't believe that we who look back on so many
+happy years, after the stormy ones of early life, could find any other
+path half so dear to us as that long path we knew in childhood and early
+youth, and the one we followed together in our first years of mature
+womanhood and manhood."
+
+And so we did not celebrate one October day with all of our children and
+grandchildren and friends coming to offer us gold coins, gold-headed
+canes--which I do not use--and gold-rimmed glasses for eyes that see
+farther and clearer than my spectacled grandsons at the university can
+see to-day. We made a golden summer of the thing and followed where,
+like a will-o'-the-wisp of memory, the Santa Fe Trail of threescore
+years ago reached from the raw frontier at Independence on to the
+Missouri bluffs, clear to the sunny valley of the Holy Faith.
+
+Only a headstone at long intervals shows the way now--a stone that well
+might read:
+
+     Here ran the old Santa Fe Trail. This stone, set here, is sacred to
+     the memory of the Vanguards of the Plains who followed it.
+
+They stand, these "markers" now, on hilltops and in deep valleys; by
+country crossroads and where main streets cut each other in the towns
+and villages. They ornament the city parks, they show where splendid
+concrete bridges, re-enforced with structural steel, span streams that
+once the ox-teams doubled and trebled strength to ford. They gleam where
+corn grows tall and black on fertile prairies; where seas of wheat have
+flooded barren, burning plains, and perfumey alfalfa sweetens the air
+above what was once grassless desolation. They whisper of a day gone by
+among the silent mountains, where tunnels let the iron trail run easily
+under the old trail's dizzy path. They nestle in the shadows of
+gray-green cliffs and by red mesa heights; until the last monument,
+sacred to the memory of a day forgotten, speaks at the corner of the old
+Plaza in the heart of Santa Fe.
+
+That was a journey long to be remembered--the long, golden-wedding
+journey of Gail Clarenden with his wife, Eloise St. Vrain, and all of it
+was sweet with memories of other days. Not in peril and privation and
+uncertainty did we follow the trail now. The Pullman has replaced the
+Conestoga wagon, dainty viands the coarse food smoke-blackened over
+camp-fires, and never fear of Kiowa nor Comanche broke our slumber. The
+long shriek that cuts the air of dawn was not from wild marauders on a
+daybreak raid down lonely canons, but from the throats of splendid,
+steel-wrought engines swinging forth upon their solid, certain course.
+
+The prairies still lap up to the edges of the little town of Burlingame,
+whose main street is still the old trail's path. The well has long since
+disappeared from the center of the place. Where once the thirsty
+gathered here to drink, there stands a monument sacred to the memory of
+the old trail days. And sacred, too, to the memory of the one
+far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger Thompson, who first conceived the
+thought of marking for the coming generations the course of commerce
+that built up the West in years gone by.
+
+We never lived in Burlingame, where once--a heart-hungry little boy--I
+longed to have a home. But the Krane children and their children's
+children still make it an abiding-place for us.
+
+To Council Grove, and old Pawnee Rock, the Cimarron Crossing of the
+Arkansas River, the open plain about the site of old Fort Bent--where
+only ghosts of walls and the court remain, and on to Santa Fe, dreamy
+and picturesque--hoary with age, and sweet with sacred memories, we
+wandered on our golden-wedding trail.
+
+The name of Narveo in New Mexico still stands for gentleman. The old
+church of San Miguel still shelters troubled hearts, and in the San
+Christobal valley the Pictured Rocks still build up a rude stair for
+feet that still may need the sanctuary rim of safety set about them.
+Along the length of the old trail a marvelous fifty years have enriched
+a history whose epic days record the deeds of vanguards, who foreran and
+builded for the softer days of golden-wedding years.
+
+The last lap of all that wondrous journey bore us in ease and comfort
+beyond the desert--the Africa, of Aunty Boone's weird fancy--to the
+Grand Canon of the Colorado. Here, as of old, the riven crust, in its
+eternal silence, and sublimity, and beauty indescribable, calmly, year
+by year, reveals its mighty purpose:
+
+    To quarry the heart of earth,
+        Till, in the rock's red rise,
+      Its age and birth, through an awful girth
+      Of strata, should show the wonder-worth
+        Of patience to all eyes.
+
+Amid luxurious surroundings we lived the October days upon the canon's
+rim, where, half a century ago, we had gone in hardship and looked on
+tragedy. We crept down all the dizzy lengths to the very heart of it,
+and ate and slept in easy comfort, and gazed upward at the sky-cleaving
+edges thousands of feet above us; we stood beside the raging Colorado
+River, which no man had explored when we first looked upon it here. In
+the serene hours of our sunset years we went back in memory over the
+long way our feet had come. Life is easy for us now, made so by all the
+splendid, simple forces of those who, in justice, honesty, and broad
+human sympathy build enduring empire. Not empire gained by bomb and
+liquid fire, defended by sharp entanglement and cross-trenched to shut
+out enemies; but empire builded on the commerce of the land, value for
+value; empire of bridged rivers, quick transportation on steel-marked
+trails that girdle harvest fields and fruitful pastures; empire of homes
+and schools and sacred shrines.
+
+Our fifty golden years have seen such empire rise and grow before our
+eyes, made great by thrift and business sense, swayed by the Golden
+Rule. An empire rich in love and sweet romance and thrilling deeds of
+courage and self-sacrifice. Glad am I to have been a vanguard of its
+trails upon the Kansas prairies and the far Western plains, sure now, as
+always down the years, that its old law is still a righteous one: To
+that which is good--
+
+"HOLD FAST."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+SIR GILBERT PARKER
+
+_THE WORLD FOR SALE_
+_THE MONEY MASTER_
+_THE JUDGMENT HOUSE_
+_THE RIGHT OF WAY_
+_THE LADDER OF SWORDS_
+_THE WEAVERS_
+_THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG_
+_WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC_
+_THE LANE THAT HAD NO TURNING_
+_NORTHERN LIGHTS_
+_PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE_
+_AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH_
+_A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS_
+_CUMNER'S SON, AND OTHER_
+_SOUTH SEA FOLK_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+MARGARET DELAND
+
+
+_THE RISING TIDE. Illustrated_
+_AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated_
+_THE COMMON WAY. 16mo_
+_DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated_
+_AN ENCORE. Illustrated_
+_GOOD FOR THE SOUL. Illustrated_
+_THE HINDS OF ESAU. Illustrated_
+_THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated_
+_THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated_
+_OLD CHESTER TILES. Illustrated_
+_PARTNERS. Illustrated_
+_R.J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated_
+_THE VOICE. Illustrated_
+_THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated_
+_WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Illustrated_
+
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+NOVELS OF
+
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+The New Thin-Paper Edition of the greatest living English novelist is
+issued in two bindings: Red Limp-Leather and Red Flexible Cloth, 12mo.
+Frontispiece in each volume.
+
+
+_DESPERATE REMEDIES
+FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD
+A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES
+THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA
+JUDE THE OBSCURE
+A LAODICEAN
+LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES
+THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE
+A PAIR OF BLUE EYES
+THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE
+TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES
+THE TRUMPET MAJOR
+TWO ON A TOWER
+UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE
+THE WELL-BELOVED
+WESSEX TALES
+THE WOODLANDERS_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+RECENT BOOKS OF TRAVEL
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_IN VACATION AMERICA_ By HARRISON RHODES
+
+_In this book of leisurely wanderings the author journeys among the
+various holiday resorts of the United States from Maine to Atlantic
+City, Newport, Bar Harbor, the Massachusetts beaches, Long Island Sound,
+the Great Lakes, Niagara, ever-young Greenbriar White and other Virginia
+Springs, Saratoga, White Mountains, the winter resorts of Florida, the
+Carolinas and California._ Illustrated in Color
+
+
+_ALONG NEW ENGLAND ROADS_
+
+By WILLIAM C. PRIME
+
+_All those who are on the lookout for an unusual way to spend a vacation
+will find suggestions here. This book of leisurely travel in New
+Hampshire and Vermont has been reprinted to meet the demand for a work
+that has never failed to charm since its first publication more than a
+decade ago._ Illustrated
+
+
+_AUSTRALIAN BYWAYS_ By NORMAN DUNCAN
+
+_In this book the author gives a chatty account of his trip along the
+outskirts of Australian civilization. The big cities were merely passed
+through, and the journeying was principally by stage-coach, on
+camel-back, or by small coastal steamers from Western Australia to New
+Guinea._ Illustrated in Tint
+
+
+_CALIFORNIA: An Intimate History_
+
+By GERTRUDE ATHERTON
+
+_The California of to-day and the California of yesterday with its
+picturesque story, are set forth in this book by the one writer who
+could bring to it the skill united with that love for the task of a
+Californian-born, Gertrude Atherton. This story of California covers the
+varied history of the state from its earliest geological beginnings down
+to the California of 1915._ Illustrated
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+NEW YORK ESTABLISHED 1817 LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Vanguards of the Plains, by Margaret McCarter
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANGUARDS OF THE PLAINS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 13345.txt or 13345.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/3/4/13345/
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/13345.zip b/old/13345.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70fe05d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13345.zip