CHAPTER XVIII
NIGHT ON THE RANGE
The cowboys and cowlasses had long been back on the range, and theattendance at the clubs had decreased in consequence.
Many still came to the Sunday service in the timber; and the childrenremained in the school, notwithstanding the increasing heat.
Continuous labor, and the intense heat, were beginning to tell onEsther Bright. As June approached, she occasionally spoke of goinghome; but whenever she did so, there was a chorus of protests,especially from Kenneth Hastings. Couldn't she spend the summer inArizona, and they would camp on one of the forest mesas, a party ofthem? It would give her new life and strength.
She shook her head listlessly. One idea grew and possessed her: shemust go home, home to her grandfather.
Into Esther's manner, when in the presence of Kenneth Hastings, hadcome a deepening reserve. And yet, from time to time, she spoke withfeeling of her gratitude to him for rescuing Edith and herself on theday of his return. Her erstwhile gayety had departed, and in its placewas a seriousness that seemed akin to sadness.
Kenneth Hastings studied her, puzzled. He shared the solicitude theClaytons evidently felt for her. All knew she had drawn too lavishlyupon her strength in her unselfish service for others. They also knewthat warnings and protests availed nothing; that she must learnthrough experience the necessity of conservation of energy. Too usefula woman, Kenneth Hastings said of her, to wear herself out in servicefor a lot of common people. But he did not understand. He was tolearn.
At the close of a fatiguing day, a day of withering heat, John Claytoncame home to dinner, bringing Kenneth with him. Esther Bright andEdith Clayton sat on the veranda as they approached.
"Miss Bright," said the host, "I have a proposition to make:--that youand Mrs. Clayton accompany Mr. Hastings and me to Clifton to-morrow.Fortunately, to-morrow will be Friday. We can start soon after schoolis dismissed, and return Saturday, riding in the cool of the day."
"Delightful!" she exclaimed, with evident pleasure, "How far is it?"
"About twenty miles, I think," he answered.
"Twenty miles? On horseback? I'm afraid I can't endure the fatigue ofso long a ride. I am already so tired!"
"Really!" said Kenneth, in a mocking tone. "You at last acknowledgethat you are tired! I am astonished."
But she was unresponsive.
As the plans were discussed for the long ride, Esther graduallyroused, and entered into the occasion with spirit. It was decided thatthe four should go in the surrey. Carla and Edith were to remain athome; and as Jack Harding was still in camp, he was to be generalprotector of the girls until the return of the party.
As the sun began to lower, Friday afternoon, the party drove away fromcamp, first north, then east, toward Clifton. They crossed andrecrossed the Gila River for some distance, passing many of theabandoned cliff dwellings along the canyon. Everywhere, the desertfoothills, and the crevices of jagged, cliffs were ablaze with cactusblossoms. As the cool came on, the air grew delightful, and Estherseemed to awaken once more to the pure joy of living.
Could they tell her anything of the cliff dwellers? They certainlycould. And John Clayton told her of the Hopi Indians, and theircustoms. People of peace they were; keepers of sheep, lovers of theheavens, and knew the mystery of the stars as no one else did. Theirmen honored their women, he said. And then he laughingly told her thatthe Hopi Indians were women suffragists. The Hopi women, he said, weregiven more rights than were the women of civilization.
"What rights?" she asked.
Then he described his visit to Hopi land, telling her of the superiorplace the Hopi woman occupies in the life of the Hopi people.
The talk drifted to Indians in general, Esther Bright asking manyquestions, indicating on her part a deep and growing interest in thesenative lords of the valleys and mesas.
Just as they were crossing a bridge over the river, they met LordKelwin on horseback. It was the first time they had met him since therace. John Harding had not seen fit to tell Kenneth or the Claytons ofhis experiences with the Irishman, as long as he himself was in campto protect Esther Bright.
John Clayton reined in his horses to greet Lord Kelwin. The Irishmanspoke to them, but looked at Esther. After learning their destinationand the probable time of their return, he lifted his cap and rode on.
Esther Bright was annoyed. She could hardly have told why.
"Lord Kelwin is a genial fellow," John Clayton remarked, turning tospeak to Esther; but, observing the expression of her face, he askedin a surprised tone:
"Don't you like Lord Kelwin, Miss Bright?"
"No," she answered, quietly.
Kenneth laughed. Then, turning around, he said in a bantering tone:
"But he told me you had gone horseback riding with him, daily, while Iwas away."
"He's mistaken, Kenneth," responded John Clayton. "Miss Bright wentriding with him about three times."
"Three times too many," said Kenneth, apparently teasing, but with anundertone of seriousness. Mrs. Clayton adroitly turned theconversation.
"John, tell Miss Bright about your meeting General C."
Then he told how the general came to Arizona, and of his wise dealingswith the red men. He explained the reason for the great unrest of theIndians after the general withdrew. He told how he was summoned fromthe Department of the Platte in 1882, and of the capture of Geronimoand his band.
"And Geronimo is supposed to be the father of our little Wathemah!"Esther exclaimed.
"Some think so," he said. "I have my doubts. He looks as though hemight be a mixture of Apache, Mexican and Spanish."
"Whatever he is, he is an attractive child," she said. "How did youcome to meet General C.?"
"He and his troops marched through Gila. I entertained the officers atthe ranch over night."
As he spoke, they came upon a pappoose, tied to a tree, and blinkingin the afternoon sunshine. Just beyond, they found a group of Apaches.The women were cooking fish over live coals of fire. The men seemed torecognize John Clayton. He greeted them in the tongue of the Mexicans,as he drove by, while the Indians jabbered and gesticulated violently.
At the bridge just beyond, they crossed the Gila for the last timebefore turning northward. There, they saw a young Apache catchingfish. He glanced up, and Esther recognized in him the visitor who hadfound her at the schoolhouse. It was evident he knew her, for hestarted towards the surrey.
"He is one of the friendly Apaches," explained John Clayton. "He'soften on the range, and has adopted some of the cowboy regimentals,you see."
The driver stopped his horses.
The Indian came forward, offering John Clayton a number of fish strungon a withe. As he did so, he turned towards Esther, and said:
"N[=e]-sh[=e]-aed-nl[)e]h'."
"What does he mean?" asked Esther.
"I think he wants to buy you from me with these fish," answered JohnClayton, turning to her with an amused smile.
Putting his hand into a tin box, he took from it a handful of cookies,gave them to the young Indian, and drove on. As they looked back, thelast cake was about to disappear down the Indian's throat.
"Poor things," said Esther, "they have had no chance."
Then Kenneth rallied her on becoming a missionary to the Indians.
"I'd be glad to help them as the early Jesuit priests did," sheanswered. "I cannot but feel that the Indian policy has been veryfaulty, and that the Indians have been the victims of grafters, someunprincipled Indian agents, and the scum of the white race. You tellme, Mr. Clayton, that the Mexican government offered a bounty of $100for every Apache man's scalp, $50 for every Apache woman's scalp, and$25 for every Apache child's scalp? I'd fight, too," she continued,indignantly. "I know I'd fight. Poor things!"
The company laughed at her championship, and told her how vicious theApaches were, and many more matters of Indian history.
The company were approaching a narrow canyon, through which they mustpass for some distance. Th
e waters dashed and boiled in eddies, wherehuge bowlders obstructed the way, making a pleasant murmur to the ear,soft and musical and low.
And Esther Bright listened. Her heart, stirred to sudden anger by thestories of injustice and cruel wrong, was soothed into quiet by thisslumber song of the ages. Oh, the music of the waters of the canyon!How, once heard, it echoes in the heart forever! In the midst of theunrest and discord of the world, how the memory of it keeps one closeto the very heart of things! How it lingers! How it sings!
They drove under, then around, an overhanging rock, beyond which, likeruins of ancient castles, storm-scarred, majestic, towered cliffs to aheight of a thousand feet or more. The shadows had deepened in thecanyon, adding to the solemn grandeur of it all. From every cleft ofrock, apparently, a cactus had sprung into life, and had blossomedinto flowers of exquisite beauty. All the journey was like a triumphalway, garlanded with flowers.
At last they reached an open place in the canyon, and followed atrack leading upward to a level plain. A short drive up a rocky waybrought them to a vast mesa. Here they halted for the night.
Some distance to the west, Esther spied a covered wagon with horsestethered near. There was a man busying himself about the wagon, andabout the bonfire. John Clayton explained to Esther that this was thecook for the squads of cowboys, and that near where the man wasworking, the men would camp for the night. She watched the movementsof the cook with some curiosity.
The Clayton party had now stepped from the surrey, and removed from itthe seats, blankets, and provisions. The two men returned to thecanyon to gather dry driftwood for their fire for the night.
During the ride of the afternoon, as the company had wound around thefoothills, they had seen great herds of cattle, thousands of cattle,on the hills and mesas. But now, Esther was to see with her own eyes,the great event of life on the range. This vast out-of-doors was allso novel to her, so intensely interesting! She stood and drew in greatbreaths of air. Her eyes darkened. The pupils of her eyes had a way ofdilating whenever she felt deeply.
Although the cowboys and cowlasses had told Esther much about theround-ups, she felt quite ignorant of the whole matter. They hadexplained to her about the free range, how it was divided intoimaginary sections, and how the "boss" cattleman would send groups ofcow-punchers to each of these various sections to look after thecattle.
John Clayton and Kenneth Hastings returned from the canyon, bringing acan of water, and dry driftwood. They at once began to build theirbonfire, and to prepare their evening meal. As they worked, theytalked.
"If you watch from here," suggested Kenneth, "you'll see the close ofthe round-up, comfortably."
"What do they mean by 'cutting out' the cattle?" asked Esther.
"Don't you know that yet?" laughed John Clayton. "That is cowboyslang. As the cow-punchers approach (cow-punchers are cowboys, youknow--)"
"Yes, I know that much."
"Well, as they approach you will see them weaving in and out among thecattle, lashing some with their quirts, and driving them out from themass of cattle. This is called 'cutting out.' The cattle of differentowners all run together on the range until time for the round-ups."
"How often do they have these?" she asked.
"There are two general round-ups, spring and fall; and others, whennecessary for extra shipments of cattle."
"How can they tell which belongs to which?"
"By the brand," explained Kenneth. "Each cattle owner brands every oneof his cattle with a certain mark, which determines whose property theanimal is."
The two women now placed cushions on the carriage seats, and sat downto watch the close of the round-up.
The sunset was one of unusual splendor, the glory of color fallingover the mesa, and the mountain peaks that loomed up far away. As theywatched the sky, they spied a cloud of dust in the distance.
"At last the cattle are coming!" exclaimed Mrs. Clayton.
The dust cloud grew, coming nearer and nearer. It had a fascinationfor Esther. While they were speculating as to the probable number ofcattle, and the cowboys and cowlasses who might be with them, KennethHastings and John Clayton sauntered over to the mess wagon to awaitthe closing scene. From that point, the men watched; and from theirlocation, the women watched the on-coming herds. The dust cloud grewlarger. The great mass of struggling cattle came steadily on. After awhile, cowboys could be seen, and whirling of ropes. Nearer and nearerthey came, the cowboys dealing stinging blows with their quirts. Thebellowing of cattle, the cursing of men, and the choking fog of dust,all mingled together, came to the two women, who watched from a safedistance. In their intense interest, they forgot that the supper hourwas long past, and watched. They saw cow-punchers, weaving in and outamong the cattle, whirling ropes, and yelling, and cursing by turns,until each cowboy had separated the cattle in his charge from theothers. It was an enormous task. The men were still cursing andlashing, when the last soft color of the afterglow faded from the sky.
When the work of the round-up was finally over, and the men were freefor the night, Esther heard the cook call out to them:
"Grub's ready! Cut out y'r talkin'!" adding profanity, as if to whetthe appetites of the hungry men. Then the cowboys, dirt begrimed, fellto, and were soon eating with a relish that would have made dyspepticsgreen with envy.
Slowly, John Clayton and Kenneth Hastings sauntered back, findingtheir own repast ready for them. They, too, had found a keen edge totheir appetite. Esther even went so far as to suggest that they mighthave done well to have accepted the Apache's fish.
"Whom do you suppose we found over there?" asked Mr. Clayton.
"Our boys," suggested Esther.
"Yes, several who have been at the club and at the meetings. They knowyou are here, Miss Bright. Let's see what they'll do."
Before the meal was over, the stars began to appear in the heavens.John Clayton threw great quantities of driftwood on the bonfire, andin a few moments, the flames were licking the logs.
The voices of the cow-punchers came to them now and then, but theprofanity had ceased. Suddenly, singing was heard. They listened. Thecowboys were singing, "There were ninety and nine."
From the singing, it was evident that the men were approaching theClayton camp. In a moment more, they were there.
Would they be seated? John Clayton had asked. So, around the camp firethey grouped, their faces and forms indistinct in the flickeringlight. They made a weird and picturesque group against the darkness ofthe night.
"An' phwat do yez think now of a round-up?" asked Mike Maloney, ofnight school celebrity. Mike had been the star pupil in arithmetic.
"Splendid!" said Esther, with contagious enthusiasm. "To see that hostof cattle approach, the ropes swinging, the horses rearing and plunging,and the magnificent setting of the mountains at sunset,--why, it wasglorious!"
The men grinned their delight.
Bill Weeks then grew eloquent about cattle.
"We come across a herd o' antelopes to-day," interrupted another.
Bill Weeks returned again to his favorite theme. Cattle were his life.In the midst of a dissertation on their good points, he was againinterrupted with:
"Oh, cut that out! Ye kin talk cattle any old day. We wants ter hearMiss Bright sing."
"Yes, sing," all clamored. "_Do_ sing!"
"What shall I sing?"
"'Oft in the Stilly Night,'" one suggested.
But they were not satisfied with one song, and called loudly foranother. Then she sang, "Flee as a bird to Your Mountain."
Esther Bright, as she stood and sang that night, was a picture onecould never forget.
Then around the crackling fire, story after story was told. The fireburned low. The dome above sparkled with myriads of stars. At last thecowboys rose, and returned to their camp.
"Now we'll heap up the fire for the night, Kenneth," said JohnClayton, "and arrange our shakedowns."
"'Shakedowns,' John?" said his wife. "You don't call a blanket andcushion on a mesa a sha
kedown, do you?"
"Why not?"
Then the two men withdrew to the farther side of the fire. The womencrawled into their blankets, and soon felt the warmth of the stillheated earth upon which they lay.
"Good night!" called the men's voices, and "Good night!" returned thewomen. Then silence brooded over the camp.
For the first time in her life, Esther was bedded on the ground. Herface was turned upward, her eyes, fixed upon the starry deeps. Hourafter hour went by. The regular breathing of her fellow-travelersassured her that all were asleep. She could not sleep.
The marvelous scene above her grew upon her. She lay still, looking,looking into the infinite, that infinite around her, above her, beyondand beyond forever, who knows whither?
The air, at first dark about her, grew into a weird, wonderful light.The dome grew vaster and vaster; and, with the marvelous expansion,she began to realize stars. They seemed to move from their solid ebonbackground, and to float in space.
Stars! What do stars mean to the ordinary human? Just stars that comeand go as a matter of course; just as men eat and drink, buy and sell,live and die. I say Esther Bright began to _realize_ stars. I do notmean by that that she was unfamiliar with certain astronomical factsall intelligent people are supposed to know. Far from it. She knewmuch of mathematical astronomy. It had a fascination for her. But shehad not _realized_ stars, _felt_ stars, as she was to realize themthis night. All the world was shut out from her vision, save thatmarvelous dome of sky, alight with myriads and myriads of stars, fromzenith to horizon. She recalled Milton's description of the floor ofheaven, and reveled in the thought. She gazed on one tremulous star,till it seemed a soul in space, beckoning to her to join it, in thecompany of the glorified. Her vision intensified. Into the Milky Wayshe gazed, till it seemed to her the pathway up to God. God! What wasGod?
Then the stillness grew till it seemed the Infinite Presence. Thestars, she was sure, made a shining pathway straight to her. Acrossthe pathway, flashed shooting stars. She saw it all so clearly. Thenthe vast space, up to the shadowy shores of the Infinite Sea, filledwith a strange, unearthly light. God! Was this _God_? Then she must beon holy ground! She felt herself lifted into the Everlasting Arms. Thewind rose and whispered softly. And Esther Bright slept. Who shall sayshe did not sleep close to the very heart of God?
The Angel of the Gila: A Tale of Arizona Page 18
