The Heart of the Desert

by Honoré Morrow

  CHAPTER XX

  THE RUINED MISSION

  Rhoda was so confused that for a moment she could only ease herself tothe pony's swift canter and wonder if her encounter with DeWitt hadbeen but a dream after all. A short distance from the pueblo Kut-lerode in beside her. It was very dark, with the heavy blackness thatjust precedes the dawn, but Rhoda felt that the Indian was looking ather exultingly.

  "It seemed as if I never would get Alchise and Injun Tom moved to afriend's _campos_ so that I could overtake you. I will say that thatfellow Porter is game to the finish. It took me an hour to subdue him!Now, don't worry about the two of them. With a little work they canloose themselves and help each other to safety. I saw Newman's trailten miles or so over beyond the pueblo mesa and I told Porter just howto go to pick him up."

  Rhoda laughed hysterically.

  "No wonder you have such a hold on your Indians! You seem never tofail! I do believe as much of it is luck as ingenuity!"

  Kut-le chuckled.

  "What a jolt DeWitt will find when he comes to, and finds Porter!"

  "You needn't gloat over the situation, Kut-le!" exclaimed Rhoda, halfsobbing in her conflict of emotions.

  "Oh, you mustn't mind anything I say," returned the young Indian. "Iam crazy with joy at just hearing your voice again! Are you reallysorry to be with me again? Did DeWitt mean as much to you as ever?Tell me, Rhoda! Say just one kindly thing to me!"

  "O Kut-le," cried Rhoda, "I can't! I can't! You must help me to bestrong! You--who are the strongest person that I know! Can't you putyourself in my place and realize what a horrible position I am in?"

  Kut-le answered slowly.

  "I guess I can realize it. But the end is so great, so much worthwhile that nothing before that matters much, to me! Rhoda, isn't thisgood--the lift of the horse under your knees--the air rushing past yourface--the weave and twist of the trail--don't they speak to you anddoesn't your heart answer?"

  "Yes," answered Rhoda simply.

  The young Indian rode still closer. Dawn was lifting now, and with agasp Rhoda saw what she had been too agonized to heed on the terrace inthe moonlight. Kut-le was clothed again! He wore the khaki suit, thehigh-laced riding boots of the ranch days; and he wore them with thegrace, the debonair ease that had so charmed Rhoda in young Cartwell.That little sense of his difference that his Indian nakedness had keptin Rhoda's subconsciousness disappeared. She stared at his broad,graceful shoulders, at the fine outline of his head which still wasbare, and she knew that her decision was going to be indescribablydifficult to keep. Kut-le watched the wistful gray eyes tenderly, asif he realized the depth of anguish behind their wistfulness; yet hewatched none the less resolutely, as if he had no qualms over theoutcome of his plans. And Rhoda, returning his gaze, caught the depthand splendor of his eyes. And that wordless joy of life whose thrillhad touched her the first time that she had met young Cartwell rushedthrough her veins once more. He was the youth, the splendor, the vividwholesomeness of the desert! He was the heart itself, of the desert.

  Kut-le laid his hand on hers.

  "Rhoda," softly, "do you remember the moment before Porter interruptedus? Ah, dear one, you will have to prove much to erase the truth ofthat moment from our hearts! How much longer must I wait for you,Rhoda?"

  Rhoda did not speak, but as she returned the young man's gaze therecame her rare slow smile of unspeakable beauty and tenderness. Kut-letrembled; but before he could speak Rhoda seemed to see between hisface and hers, DeWitt, haggard and exhausted, expending the lastremnant of his strength in his fight for her. She put her hands beforeher face with a little sob.

  Kut-le watched her in silence for a moment, then he said in his lowrich voice:

  "Neither DeWitt nor I want you to suffer over your decision. AndDeWitt doesn't want just the shell of you. I have the real you! ORhoda, the real you will belong to me if you are seven times DeWitt'swife! Can't you realize that forever and ever you are mine, no matterhow you fight or what you do?"

  But Rhoda scarcely heard him. She was with DeWitt, struggling acrossthe parching sands.

  "O Kut-le! Kut-le! What shall I do! What shall I do!"

  Kut-le started to answer, then changed his mind.

  "You poor, tired little girl," he said. "You have had a fierce timethere in the desert. You look exhausted. What did you have to eat andhow did you make out crossing to the mesa? By your trail you wentmiles out of your way."

  Rhoda struggled for calm.

  "We nearly died the first day," she said. "But we did very well afterwe reached the mesa."

  Kut-le smiled to himself. It was hard even for him to realize thatthis plucky girl who passed so simply over such an ordeal as he knewshe must have endured could be the Rhoda of the ranch. But he saidonly:

  "We'll make for the timber line and let you rest for a while."

  At mid-morning they left the desert and began to climb a rough mountainslope. At the pinon line, Kut-le called a halt. Never before hadshade seemed so good to Rhoda as it did now. She lay on thepine-needles looking up into the soft green. It was unspeakablygrateful to her eyes which had been so long tortured by the desertglare. She lay thus for a long time, her mental pain for a while lostin the access of physical comfort. Shortly Molly, who had been workingrapidly, brought her a steaming bowl of stew. Rhoda ate this, thenwith her head pillowed on her arm she fell asleep.

  She was wakened by Molly's touch on her arm. It was late afternoon.Rhoda looked up into the squaw's face and drew a quick hard breath asrealization came to her.

  "Molly! Molly!" she cried. "I'm in terrible, terrible trouble, Molly!"

  The squaw looked worried.

  "You no go away! Kut-le heap sorry while you gone!"

  But Rhoda scarcely heeded the woman's voice. She rolled over with herhot face in the fragrant needles and groaned.

  "O Molly! Molly! I'm in terrible trouble!"

  "What trouble? You tell old Molly!"

  Rhoda sat up and stared into the deep brown eyes. Just as Kut-le hadbecome to her the splendor of the desert, so had Molly become thebrooding wisdom of the desert. With sudden inspiration she grasped theIndian woman's toil-scarred hands.

  "Listen, Molly! Before I knew Kut-le, I was going to marry the whiteman, DeWitt. And after he stole me I hated Kut-le and I hated thedesert. And now, O Molly, I love both Kut-le and the desert, and Imust marry the white man!"

  "Why? You tell Molly why?"

  "Because he is white, Molly, like me. Because he loves me so and hasdone so much for me! But most of all because he is white!"

  Molly scowled.

  "Because Kut-le is Injun, you no marry him?"

  Rhoda nodded miserably.

  "Huh! And you think you so big, Kut-le so big that Great Spirit careif you marry white, marry Injun. All Great Spirit care is for everysquaw to have papoose. Squaw, she big fool to listen to her head.Squaw, she must always listen to her heart, that is Great Spirittalking. Your heart, it say marry Kut-le!"

  Molly paused and looked at the girl, who sat with stormy eyes on thesinking sun. And she forgot her hard-earned wisdom and was just aheart-hungry woman.

  "You stay! Stay with Kut-le and old Molly! You so sweet! You likelittle childs! You lie in old Molly's heart like little girl papoosethat never came to Molly. You stay! Always, always, Molly will takecare of you!"

  Rhoda was deeply touched. This was the cry of the famished motherhoodof a dying race. She put her soft cheek on Molly's shoulder and shecould no longer see the sun, for her eyes were tear-blinded. Kut-le,standing on the other side of the camp, looked at the picture withdeepening eyes; then he crossed and put his hand on Rhoda's shoulder.

  "Dear one," he said, "you must eat your supper, then we must take thetrail."

  Rhoda looked up into the young man's face. She was exquisite in thefailing light. For a moment it seemed as if Kut-le must fold her inhis arms; but something in her troubled gaze withheld him and he o
nlysmiled at her caressingly.

  "Before you eat," he said, "come to the edge of the camp and lookthrough the glasses."

  Rhoda hurried after him, and stared out over the desert. A shortdistance out, vivid in the afterglow, moved two figures. Shedistinguished the short wiry figure of Porter, the gaunt figure ofDeWitt, walking with determined strides. Waiting till she couldcommand her voice, Rhoda turned to Kut-le. He was watching her keenly.

  "Will they pick up our trail? Are the poor things badly lost?"

  "Billy Porter lost! I guess not! And I gave him enough hints so thathe ought to join Newman in another twenty-four hours."

  Rhoda smiled wanly.

  "Sometimes you forget to act like a cold-blooded Indian."

  Kut-le gave his familiar chuckle.

  "Well, you see, I've been contaminated by my long association with thewhites!"

  And so again the nights of going. During her waking hours, Rhoda spentthe greater part of her time considering arguments that would haveweight with Kut-le when the struggle came which she knew was imminent.

  If she had suffered before, if the early part of her abduction had beenagony, it had been nothing in comparison with what she was enduring inputting Kut-le aside for DeWitt. And, after all, she had no finalguide in holding to her resolution save an instinct that told her thather course was the right one. All the arguments that she could putinto words against inter-race marriage seemed inadequate. Thisinstinct which was wordless and formless alone remained sufficient.

  And with the ill logic of womankind, through all her arguing withherself there flushed one glad thought. Kut-le knew that she lovedhim, knew that she was suffering in the thought of giving him up! Histender, half sad, half triumphant smile proved that, as did hisprotective air of ownership.

  Rhoda noticed one condition of her keeping to her decision. She wasvery firm in it at night when the desert was dim. But in the glory ofthe dawns and the sunsets, her little arguments seemed strangely small.Sitting on a mountainside one afternoon, Rhoda watched a rain-stormsweep across the ranges, across the desert, to the far-lying mesas.Normally odorless, the desert, after the rain, emitted a faint,ineffable odor that teased the girl's fancy as if she verged on thesecret of the desert's beauty. Exquisite violet mists rolled back tothe mountains. Flashing every rainbow tint from its moistened breastthe desert lay as if breathing the very words of the Great Scheme.

  Suddenly to Rhoda her resolution seemed small and futile, and for along hour she revelled in the thought of belonging to the man sheloved. And yet as night descended and the infinite reaches of thedesert receded into darkness, the spell was broken, and the old doubtsand misery returned.

  And so again, the nights of going. But the holiday aspect of theflight was gone. Kut-le moved with a grim determination that was notto be misinterpreted. Rhoda knew that they were to reach the Mexicanborder with all possible speed. The young Indian drove the littleparty to the limit of its endurance. Rhoda avoided talking to him asmuch as she could and Kut-le, seeming to understand her mood, left hermuch to herself.

  On the fourth day they camped on a canon edge. After Rhoda had eatenshe walked with Kut-le to the far edge and looked down. The canon wasvery deep and narrow. Some distance away, near where it opened on thedesert, lay a heap of ruins.

  "Is that another pueblo?" asked Rhoda.

  "No, it's an old monastery. Part of the year they have a padre there.I wish I knew if there was one there now."

  "Why?" asked Rhoda suspiciously.

  "Don't bother your dear head," answered Kut-le. Then he went on, as ifhalf to himself: "There's been an awful lot of fooling on thisexpedition. Perhaps I ought to have made for the Mexican border thevery night I took you." He looked at Rhoda's wide, troubled eyes."But no, then I would have missed this wonderful desert growth ofyours! But now we are going straight over the border where I know apadre that will many us. Then we will make for Europe at once."

  The morning sun glinted on the pine-needles. Old Molly hummed asingsong air over the stew-pot. And Rhoda stood with stormy,tear-dimmed eyes and quivering lips.

  "It can never, never be, Kut-le!"

  "Why not?"

  "We can't solve the problems of race adjustment. No love is big enoughfor that. I have been civilized a thousand years. You have beensavage a thousand years. You can't come forward. I can't go backward."

  "You know well enough, Rhoda," said Kut-le quietly, "that I amcivilized."

  "You are externally, perhaps," said the girl. "But you yourself haveno proof that at heart you are not as uncivilized as your father orgrandfather. Your stealing me shows that. Nothing can change ourinstinct. You know that you might revert at any time."

  Kut-le turned on her fiercely.

  "Do you love me, Rhoda?"

  Rhoda stood silently, her cleft chin trembling, her deep gray eyes wideand grief-stricken.

  "Do you love me--and better than you do DeWitt?" insisted the man,

  Suddenly Rhoda lifted her head proudly.

  "Yes," she said, "I do love you, better than any one in the world; butI cannot marry you!"

  Kut-le took her trembling hands in his.

  "Why not, dear one?" he asked.

  Still the sun flickered on the pine-needles and still Molly hummed overher stew-pot. Still Rhoda stood looking into the eyes of the man sheloved, her scarlet cheeks growing each moment more deeply crimson.

  "Because you are an Indian. The instinct in me against such a marriageis so strong that I dare not go against it."

  Kut-le's mouth closed in the old way.

  "And still you shall marry me, Rhoda!"

  "I am a white woman, Kut-le. I can't marry an Indian. The differenceis too great!"

  Kut-le turned abruptly and walked to the canon edge, looking far out tothe desert. Rhoda, panting and half hysterical, watched him. Themoment which she had so dreaded had arrived, and she found herself,after all her planning, utterly unprepared to meet it save withhackneyed phrases.

  It seemed a long time that Kut-le stood staring away from her. At lastRhoda could bear the silence no longer. She ran to him and put hertrembling hand on his arm. He turned his stern young face to her andher heart failed her.

  "O Kut-le! Kut-le!" she cried. "If you won't help me to do right, whowill? It's not right for us to marry! Just not right! That's all Iknow about it!"

  Kut-le put both hands on her shoulders.

  "Look here, Rhoda. What you call the 'right' instinct is just theremnant of the old man-made race hatred in you. It's just a part ofthe old conceit of the Caucasian."

  Rhoda stirred restlessly, but Kut-le held her firmly and went on.

  "I tell you, if we're not to go mad, we've got to believe that greatthings come to us for a purpose. There is no human being who has lovedwho does not believe that love is the greatest thing that has beengiven to man. The man who has loved knows that the biggest things inthe world have been done for the love of woman. Love is bigger thannations or races. It's human, not white, or black, or yellow. It'sabove all we can do to tarnish it with our little prejudices. When itcomes greatly, it comes supremely."

  He lifted the girl's face and looked deeply into her eyes.

  "Rhoda, if it has come as greatly to you as it has to me, you will notpause for any sorrow that your coming to me may cost you. You willcome, in spite of everything. I believe that if in your smallness andignorance you refuse this gift that has come to you and me, you will beoutraging the greatest force in nature."

  Rhoda stood sorrow-stricken and confused. When the deep, quiet voiceceased, she said brokenly:

  "I haven't lived in the desert so long as you. The way does not lie soclear to me. If only I had your conviction, I too could be strong andwalk the path I saw unhesitatingly. But I see no path!"

  "Then," said Kut-le, "because I see, I'll decide for you! O Rhoda, youmust believe in me! I have had you in my power and I have kept thefaith with you. I am going to take you and mar
ry you. I am going tomake this gift that has come to you and me make us the big man andwoman that nature needs. Tonight we shall reach the padre who willmarry us."

  He watched the girl keenly for a moment, then he again turned from herdeliberately and walked to the edge of the canon, as if he wanted herto come to her final decision unbiased by his nearness. But he turnedback to her with a curious expression on his face.

  "Come and take a good-by look, Rhoda! Your friends are below. I hopeit will be some time before we see them again!"

  Rhoda went to him. Far, far below, she saw little dots of men makingcamp beyond the monastery near the desert. Suddenly Rhoda sank to herknees with a cry of longing that was heart-breaking.

  "O my people! My own people!" she sobbed, crouching upon the canonedge.

  Kut-le watched the little figure with inscrutable eyes. Then he liftedthe girl to her feet.

  "Rhoda, are you going to eat your heart out for your own kind if youmarry me? Won't I be sufficient? It hadn't occurred to me that Imight not be!"

  "You haven't given up your people," answered Rhoda. "You are alwaysgoing back to them."

  "But you aren't really giving them up," urged Kut-le. "It really is Iwho make the sacrifice of my race!"

  "And that is the reason for one of my fears," cried Rhoda. "I amafraid that some day you would find the price too great and that ourmarriage would be wrecked."

  "Even if I went back for a few months each year, would that make youunhappy?" asked Kut-le.

  "Kut-le!" exclaimed Rhoda. "I am not talking of externals. I meanthat if your longing for your own kind made you lose your love for me.Oh, I can't see any of it straight, but I am afraid!"

  "Nonsense, Rhoda! I fought that battle long before I knew you. Thereis absolutely no danger of my reverting. I am going to spend the restof my life among the whites even if you shouldn't marry me, Rhoda.Rhoda, I wish I had had time to let you grow to it fully!"

  Rhoda stood rigidly. Molly, sensing trouble, hovered restlessly justout of earshot.

  "If you married DeWitt," Kut-le went on, "could you forget me? Forgetthe desert? Forget our days and nights? Forget my arms about you?"

  "Oh, no! No!" cried Rhoda. "You know that I shall love you always!"

  "And will DeWitt want what you offer him?" Kut-le went on, mercilessly.

  Rhoda winced.

  "I wish," said Kut-le huskily, "you never will know how I wish that youhad come to me freely, feeling that the sacrifice was worth while!"

  Rhoda looked at him wonderingly. After all the weeks of irondetermination, was the young giant weakening, was his great heartfailing him!

  "I had thought," he went on, "that you were big enough to stand thetest. That after the travail and the heart scourging, you wouldsee--and would come to me freely--strong enough to smile at all yourregrets and fears. That thought steeled me to put you through thetorture. But if now, at the end, you are coming to me only because youmust! Rhoda, I don't want you on those terms."

  Rhoda gasped. She felt as one feels when in a dream one falls anunexpected and endless distance. The relief from the pressure ofKut-le's will that had forced her on, for so long, left her weak andaimless.

  Yet somehow she found the strength to say:

  "Kut-le, we must give each other up! I love you so that I can let yougo! Oh, can't you see how I feel about it!"

  Again Kut-le looked far off over vista of mountains and canon. Hiseyes were deep and abstracted, as if he saw into the years ahead withknowledge denied to Rhoda. Then he turned to Rhoda and searched herface with burning gaze. He eyed her hair, her lovely heart-brokenface, her slender figure. For a moment his face was tortured by a lookof doubt that was heart-shattering. He lifted Rhoda across his chestin the old way and held her to him with passionate tenderness. He laidhis face against hers and she heard him whisper:

  "O my love! Love of my youth and my manhood!" Then he set her verygently to her feet. "Don't cry," he said. "I can't bear it!"

  Rhoda threw her arms above her head in an abandonment of agony.

  "Oh, I cannot, cannot bear this!" Then she added more calmly: "Isuffer as much as you, Kut-le!"

  Again the look of unspeakable grief crossed the young Indian's face,but it immediately became inscrutable. He led Rhoda along the canonedge.

  "Do you see that little trail going down?" he said.

  "Yes," said Rhoda wonderingly.

  "Then go!" said Kut-le quietly.

  Rhoda looked up at him blankly.

  "Go!" he said sternly. "Go back to your own kind and I will go on,alone. Don't stop to talk any more. Go now!"

  Rhoda turned and looked at Cesca squatting by the horses, at Mollyhovering near by with anxious eyes. Never to make the dawn camp,again--never to hear Molly humming over the stew-pot! Suddenly Rhodafelt that if she could have Molly with her she would not be so utterlyseparated from Kut-le.

  "Let Molly go with me!" she said. "I love Molly!"

  "No!" said Kut-le. "You are to forget the desert and the Indians. Gonow!"

  With awe and grief too deep for words, Rhoda obeyed the young chief'sstern eyes. She clambered down the rough trail to a break in the canonwall, then, clinging with hands and feet, down the sheer side. Thetall figure, beautiful in its perfect symmetry, stood immovable, theface never turning from her. Rhoda knew that she never was to forgetthis picture of him. At the foot of the canon wall she stood long,looking up. Far, far above, the straight figure stood in lonelymajesty, gazing at the life for which he had sacrificed so much. Rhodalooked until, tear-blinded, she turned away.