The Heart of the Desert

by Honoré Morrow

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE TRAIL AGAIN

  For a long time Rhoda sat silently considering her problem and Johnwatched her soberly. Finally she turned to speak. As she did so, shecaught on the young man's face a look so weary, so puzzled, soaltogether wretched that the girl's heart smote her. This was indeed apoor return for what he had endured for her! Rhoda jumped to her feetwith resolution in her eyes. "Are you too tired to explore the ruins?"she asked. DeWitt rose languidly. Rhoda had responded at once to restand food but John would need a month of care and quiet in which toregain his strength.

  "I'll do anything you want me to--in that line!"

  Rhoda carefully ignored the last phrase.

  "Even if we're half dead, it's too bad to miss the opportunity toexamine such a wonderful thing as this. You couldn't find as gloriousa setting for a ruin anywhere in Europe."

  "Oh, yes, you could; lots of 'em," answered DeWitt. "You can't comparea ruin like this with anything in Europe. What makes European ruinsappeal to us is not only their intrinsic beauty but the association ofbig ideas with them. We know that big thoughts built them and perhapsdestroyed them."

  "What do you call big thoughts?" asked Rhoda. "Wasn't it just as greatfor these Pueblo Indians to perform such terrible labor in buildingthis for their families as it was for some old king to work thousandsof slaves to death to build him a monument?"

  DeWitt laughed.

  "Rhoda, you can love the desert, its Indians and its ruins all you wantto, if you won't ask me to! I've had all I want of the three of them!Lord, how I hate it all!"

  Rhoda looked at him wistfully. If only he could understand thespiritual change in her that was even greater than the physical! Ifonly he could see the beauty of those far lavender hazes! If only hecould understand how even now she was heartsick for the night trailwhere one looked up into the sky as into a shadowy opal! If only heknew the peace that had dwelt with her on the holiday ledge where therewere tints and beauties too deep for words! And yet with thewistfulness came a strange sense of satisfaction that all this new partof her must belong forever to Kut-le.

  John led the way into the dwelling. All was emptiness and ruin. Allthat remained of the old life within its walls were wonderful bits ofpottery. Only once did DeWitt give evidence of pleasure. He wasexamining the carefully finished walls of one of the rooms when hecalled:

  "I say, Rhoda, just look at this bit of humanness!"

  Rhoda came to him quickly and he pointed low down on the adobe wallwhere was the perfect imprint of a baby's hand.

  "The little rascal got spanked, I'll bet, for putting his hand on the'dobe before it was dry!" commented John.

  Rhoda smiled but said nothing. These departed peoples had become veryreal and very pitiable to her.

  As soon as he could drag Rhoda from the ancient pots, John led the wayto the top of the ruin. He was anxious to find if there were more thanthe one trail leading from the desert. To his great satisfaction hefound that the mesa was unscalable except at the point that Rhoda hadfound as she staggered up from the desert.

  "I'm going to guard that trail tonight," he said. "It's just possible,you know, that Kut-le escaped from Porter, though I think if he had hewould have been upon us long before this. I've been mighty careless.But my brain is so tired it seems to have been off duty. I could holdthat trail single-handed from the upper terrace for a week."

  "Just remember," said Rhoda quickly, "that I've asked you not to shootto kill!"

  Again the hard light gleamed in DeWitt's eyes.

  "I shall have a few words with him first, then I shall shoot to kill.There is that between that Indian and me which a woman evidently can'tunderstand. I just can't see why you take the stand you do!"

  "John dear," cried Rhoda, "put yourself in his place. With all therace prejudice against you that he had, wouldn't you have done as hehas?"

  "Probably," answered Dewitt calmly. "I also would have expected whathe is going to get."

  A sudden sense of the bizarre nature of their conversation caused Rhodato say comically:

  "I never knew that you could have such _bloody_ ideas, John!"

  DeWitt was glad to turn the conversation.

  "I am so only occasionally," he said. "For instance, instead ofshooting the rabbit for supper, I'm going to try a figure-four trap."

  They returned to their little camp on the upper terrace and Rhoda satwith wistful gray eyes fastened on the desert while John busied himselfwith the trap-making. He worked with the skill of his country boyhoodand the trap was cleverly finished.

  "It's evident that I'm not the leader of the expedition any more," saidRhoda, looking at the trap admiringly.

  John shook his head.

  "I've lost my faith in myself as a hero. It's one thing to read of thedesert and think how well you could have managed there, and anotherthing to be on the spot!"

  The day passed slowly. As night drew on the two on the mesa top grewmore and more anxious. There was little doubt but that they could livefor a number of days at the old pueblo, yet it was evident that theruin was far from any traveled trail and that chances of discovery wereslight except by Kut-le. On the other hand, they were absolutelyunprepared for a walking trip across the desert. Troubled anduncertain what to do, they watched the wonder of the sunset. Deeper,richer, more divine grew the colors of the desert, and in one supreme,flaming glory the sun sank from view.

  DeWitt with his arm across Rhoda's shoulders spoke anxiously.

  "Don't you still think we'd better start tomorrow?"

  "Yes," she answered, "I suppose so. What direction shall we take?"

  "East," replied DeWitt. "We're bound to strike help if we can keepgoing long enough in one direction. We'll cook a good supply ofrabbits and I'll fix up one of those bowl-like ollas with myhandkerchief, so we can carry water in it as well as in the twocanteens. I think you had better sleep in the little room theretonight and I'll lie across the end of the trail here."

  Rhoda sighed.

  "I've nothing better to suggest. As you say, it's all guesswork!"

  They set the rabbit trap by the spring, then Rhoda, quite recoveredfrom her nervousness of the night before, entered her littlesleeping-room and made ready for the night. The front of the room hadso crumbled away that she could see John's dark form by the trail, andshe lay down with a sense of security and fell asleep at once.

  John paced the terrace for a long hour after Rhoda was asleep, tryingto plan every detail for the morrow. He dared not confess even tohimself how utterly disheartened he felt in the face of this terribleadversary, the desert. Finally, realizing that he must have rest ifRhoda was not to repeat her previous experience in leading him acrossthe desert he stretched himself on the ground across the head of thetrail. He must trust to his nervousness to make him sleep lightly.

  How long she had slept Rhoda did not know when she was wakened by ahalf-muffled oath from DeWitt. She jumped to her feet and ran out tothe terrace. Never while life remained to her was she to forget whatshe saw there. DeWitt and Kut-le were wrestling in each other's grip!Rhoda stood horrified. As the two men twisted about, DeWitt saw thegirl and panted:

  "Don't stir, Rhoda! Don't call or you'll have his whole bunch up here!"

  "Don't worry about that!" exclaimed Kut-le. "You've been wanting toget hold of me. Now we'll fight it out bare-handed and the best manwins."

  Rhoda looked wildly down the trail, then ran up to the two men.

  "Stop!" she screamed. "Stop!" Then as she caught the look in themen's faces as they glared at each other she cried, "I hate you both,you beasts!"

  Her screams carried far in the night air, for in a moment Cesca camepanting up the trail. She lunged at DeWitt with catlike fury, but at asharp word from Kut-le she turned to Rhoda and stood guard beside thegirl. Rhoda stood helplessly watching the battle as one watches thehorrors of a nightmare.

  Kut-le and DeWitt now were fighting as two wolves fight. Both the menwere t
rained wrestlers, but in their fury all their scientific trainingwas forgotten, and rolling over and over on the rocky trail each foughtfor a hold on the other's throat. With Kut-le was the advantage ofperfect condition and superior strength. But DeWitt was fighting forhis stolen mate. He was fighting like a cave man who has brooded formonths on his revenge, and he was a terrible adversary. He had thesudden strength, the fearful recklessness of a madman. Now rolling onthe edge of the terrace, now high against the crumbling pueblo, thesavage and the civilized creature dragged each other back and forth.And Rhoda, awed by this display of passions, stood like the First Womanand waited!

  Of a sudden Kut-le disentangled himself and with knees on DeWitt'sshoulders he clutched at the white man's throat. At the same time,DeWitt gathered together his recumbent body and with a mighty heave heflung Kut-le over his head. Rhoda gave a little cry, thinking thefight was ended; but as Kut-le gained his feet, DeWitt sprang to meethim and the struggle was renewed. Rhoda never had dreamed of a sightso sickening as this of the two men she knew so well fighting for eachother's throats with the animal's lust for killing. She did not knowwhat would be Kut-le's course if he gained the mastery, but as shecaught glimpses of DeWitt's face with its clenched teeth and terriblelook of loathing she knew that if his fingers ever reached Kut-le'sthroat the Indian could hope for no mercy.

  And then she saw DeWitt's face go white and his head drop back.

  "Oh!" she screamed. "You've killed him! You've killed him!"

  The Indian's voice came in jerks as he eased DeWitt to the ground.

  "He's just fainted. He's put up a tremendous fight for a man in hiscondition!"

  As he spoke he was tying DeWitt's hands and ankles with his own andDeWitt's handkerchiefs. Rhoda would have run to DeWitt's aid butCesca's hand was tight on her arm. Before the girl could plan anyaction, Kut-le had turned to her and had lifted her in his arms. Shefought him wildly.

  "I can't leave him so, Kut-le! You will kill all I've learned to feelfor you if you leave him so!"

  "He'll be all right!" panted Kut-le, running down the trail. "I've gotBilly Porter down here to leave with him!"

  At the foot of the trail were horses. Gagged and bound to his saddleBilly Porter sat in the moonlight with Molly on guard. Kut-le putRhoda on a horse, then quickly thrust Porter to the ground, where theman sat helplessly.

  "Oh, Billy!" cried Rhoda. "John is on the terrace! Find him! Helphim!"

  The last words were spoken as Kut-le turned her horse and led at a trotinto the desert.