Desert Gold

by Zane Grey

  XV

  BOUND IN THE DESERT

  FAR away from Forlorn River Dick Gale sat stunned, gazing down into thepurple depths where Rojas had plunged to his death. The Yaqui stoodmotionless upon the steep red wall of lava from which he had cut thebandit's hold. Mercedes lay quietly where she had fallen. From acrossthe depths there came to Gale's ear the Indian's strange, wild cry.

  Then silence, hollow, breathless, stony silence enveloped the greatabyss and its upheaved lava walls. The sun was setting. Every instantthe haze reddened and thickened.

  Action on the part of the Yaqui loosened the spell which held Gale asmotionless as his surroundings. The Indian was edging back toward theledge. He did not move with his former lithe and sure freedom. Hecrawled, slipped, dragged himself, rested often, and went on again. Hehad been wounded. When at last he reached the ledge where Mercedes layGale jumped to his feet, strong and thrilling, spurred to meet theresponsibility that now rested upon him.

  Swiftly he turned to where Thorne lay. The cavalryman was justreturning to consciousness. Gale ran for a canteen, bathed his face,made him drink. The look in Thorne's eyes was hard to bear.

  "Thorne! Thorne! it's all right, it's all right!" cried Gale, inpiercing tones. "Mercedes is safe! Yaqui saved her! Rojas is donefor! Yaqui jumped down the wall and drove the bandit off the ledge.Cut him loose from the wall, foot by foot, hand by hand! We've won thefight, Thorne."

  For Thorne these were marvelous strength-giving words. The dark horrorleft his eyes, and they began to dilate, to shine. He stood up,dizzily but unaided, and he gazed across the crater. Yaqui had reachedthe side of Mercedes, was bending over her. She stirred. Yaqui liftedher to her feet. She appeared weak, unable to stand alone. But shefaced across the crater and waved her hand. She was unharmed. Thornelifted both arms above head, and from his lips issued a cry. It wasneither call nor holloa nor welcome nor answer. Like the Yaqui's, itcould scarcely be named. But it was deep, husky, prolonged, terriblyhuman in its intensity. It made Gale shudder and made his heart beatlike a trip hammer. Mercedes again waved a white hand. The Yaquiwaved, too, and Gale saw in the action an urgent signal.

  Hastily taking up canteen and rifles, Gale put a supporting arm aroundThorne.

  "Come, old man. Can you walk? Sure you can walk! Lean on me, andwe'll soon get out of this. Don't look across. Look where you step.We've not much time before dark. Oh, Thorne, I'm afraid Jim has cashedin! And the last I saw of Laddy he was badly hurt."

  Gale was keyed up to a high pitch of excitement and alertness. Heseemed to be able to do many things. But once off the ragged notchedlava into the trail he had not such difficulty with Thorne, and couldkeep his keen gaze shifting everywhere for sight of enemies.

  "Listen, Thorne! What's that?" asked Gale, halting as they came to aplace where the trail led down through rough breaks in the lava. Thesilence was broken by a strange sound, almost unbelieveable consideringthe time and place. A voice was droning: "Turn the lady, turn! Turnthe lady, turn! Alamon left. All swing; turn the lady, turn!"

  "Hello, Jim," called Gale, dragging Thorne round the corner of lava."Where are you? Oh, you son of a gun! I thought you were dead. Oh,I'm glad to see you! Jim, are you hurt?"

  Jim Lash stood in the trail leaning over the butt of his rifle, whichevidently he was utilizing as a crutch. He was pale but smiling. Hishands were bloody. A scarf had been bound tightly round his left legjust above the knee. The leg hung limp, and the foot dragged.

  "I reckon I ain't injured much," replied Him. "But my leg hurts likehell, if you want to know."

  "Laddy! Oh, where's Laddy?"

  "He's just across the crack there. I was trying to get to him. We hadit hot an' heavy down here. Laddy was pretty bad shot up before hetried to head Rojas off the trail.... Dick, did you see the Yaqui goafter Rojas?"

  "Did I!" exclaimed Gale, grimly.

  "The finish was all that saved me from runnin' loco plumb over the rim.You see I was closer'n you to where Mercedes was hid. When Rojas an'his last Greaser started across, Laddy went after them, but I couldn't.Laddy did for Rojas's man, then went down himself. But he got up an'fell, got up, went on, an' fell again. Laddy kept doin' that till hedropped for good. I reckon our chances are against findin' himalive.... I tell you, boys, Rojas was hell-bent. An' Mercedes was game.I saw her shoot him. But mebbe bullets couldn't stop him then. If Ididn't sweat blood when Mercedes was fightin' him on the cliff! Thenthe finish! Only a Yaqui could have done that.... Thorne, you didn'tmiss it?"

  "Yes, I was down and out," replied the cavalryman.

  "It's a shame. Greatest stunt I ever seen! Thorne, you're standin' uppretty fair. How about you? Dick, is he bad hurt?"

  "No, he's not. A hard knock on the skull and a scalp wound," repliedDick. "Here, Jim, let me help you over this place."

  Step by step Gale got the two injured men down the uneven declivity andthen across the narrow lava bridge over the fissure. Here he bade themrest while he went along the trail on that side to search for Laddy.Gale found the ranger stretched out, face downward, a reddened handclutching a gun. Gale thought he was dead. Upon examination, however,it was found that Ladd still lived, though he had many wounds. Galelifted him and carried him back to the others.

  "He's alive, but that's all," said Dick, as he laid the ranger down."Do what you can. Stop the blood. Laddy's tough as cactus, you know.I'll hurry back for Mercedes and Yaqui."

  Gale, like a fleet, sure-footed mountain sheep, ran along the trail.When he came across the Mexican, Rojas's last ally, Gale had evidenceof the terrible execution of the .405. He did not pause. On the firstpart of that descent he made faster time than had Rojas. But heexercised care along the hard, slippery, ragged slope leading to theledge. Presently he came upon Mercedes and the Yaqui. She ran rightinto Dick's arms, and there her strength, if not her courage, broke,and she grew lax.

  "Mercedes, you're safe! Thorne's safe. It's all right now."

  "Rojas!" she whispered.

  "Gone! To the bottom of the crater! A Yaqui's vengeance, Mercedes."

  He heard the girl whisper the name of the Virgin. Then he gathered herup in his arms.

  "Come, Yaqui."

  The Indian grunted. He had one hand pressed close over a bloody placein his shoulder. Gale looked keenly at him. Yaqui was inscrutable, asof old, yet Gale somehow knew that wound meant little to him. TheIndian followed him.

  Without pausing, moving slowly in some places, very carefully inothers, and swiftly on the smooth part of the trail, Gale carriedMercedes up to the rim and along to the the others. Jim Lash workedawkwardly over Ladd. Thorne was trying to assist. Ladd, himself, wasconscious, but he was a pallid, apparently a death-stricken man. Thegreeting between Mercedes and Thorne was calm--strangely so, it seemedto Gale. But he was calm himself. Ladd smiled at him, and evidentlywould have spoken had he the power. Yaqui then joined the group, andhis piercing eyes roved from one to the other, lingering longest overLadd.

  "Dick, I'm figger'n hard," said Jim, faintly. "In a minute it 'll beup to you an' Mercedes. I've about shot my bolt.... Reckon you'll do--best by bringin' up blankets--water--salt--firewood. Laddy's got--onechance--in a hundred. Fix him up--first. Use hot salt water. If myleg's broke--set it best you can. That hole in Yaqui--only 'll botherhim a day. Thorne's bad hurt... Now rustle--Dick, old--boy."

  Lash's voice died away in a husky whisper, and he quietly lay back,stretching out all but the crippled leg. Gale examined it, assuredhimself the bones had not been broken, and then rose ready to go downthe trail.

  "Mercedes, hold Thorne's head up, in your lap--so. Now I'll go."

  On the moment Yaqui appeared to have completed the binding of hiswounded shoulder, and he started to follow Gale. He paid no attentionto Gale's order for him to stay back. But he was slow, and graduallyGale forged ahead. The lingering brightness of the sunset lightenedthe trail, and the descent to the arroyo was swift and easy.
Some ofthe white horses had come in for water. Blanco Sol spied Gale andwhistled and came pounding toward him. It was twilight down in thearroyo. Yaqui appeared and began collecting a bundle of mesquitesticks. Gale hastily put together the things he needed; and, packingthem all in a tarpaulin, he turned to retrace his steps up the trail.

  Darkness was setting in. The trail was narrow, exceedingly steep, andin some places fronted on precipices. Gale's burden was not veryheavy, but its bulk made it unwieldy, and it was always overbalancinghim or knocking against the wall side of the trail. Gale found itnecessary to wait for Yaqui to take the lead. The Indian's eyes musthave seen as well at night as by day. Gale toiled upward, shouldering,swinging, dragging the big pack; and, though the ascent of the slopewas not really long, it seemed endless. At last they reached a level,and were soon on the spot with Mercedes and the injured men.

  Gale then set to work. Yaqui's part was to keep the fire blazing andthe water hot, Mercedes's to help Gale in what way she could. Galefound Ladd had many wounds, yet not one of them was directly in a vitalplace. Evidently, the ranger had almost bled to death. He remainedunconscious through Gale's operations. According to Jim Lash, Ladd hadone chance in a hundred, but Gale considered it one in a thousand.Having done all that was possible for the ranger, Gale slipped blanketsunder and around him, and then turned his attention to Lash.

  Jim came out of his stupor. A mushrooming bullet had torn a great holein his leg. Gale, upon examination, could not be sure the bones hadbeen missed, but there was no bad break. The application of hot saltwater made Jim groan. When he had been bandaged and laid beside Ladd,Gale went on to the cavalryman. Thorne was very weak and scarcelyconscious. A furrow had been plowed through his scalp down to thebone. When it had been dressed, Mercedes collapsed. Gale laid herwith the three in a row and covered them with blankets and thetarpaulin.

  Then Yaqui submitted to examination. A bullet had gone through theIndian's shoulder. To Gale it appeared serious. Yaqui said it was aflea bite. But he allowed Gale to bandage it, and obeyed when he wastold to lie quiet in his blanket beside the fire.

  Gale stood guard. He seemed still calm, and wondered at what heconsidered a strange absence of poignant feeling. If he had feltweariness it was now gone. He coaxed the fire with as little wood aswould keep it burning; he sat beside it; he walked to and fro close by;sometimes he stood over the five sleepers, wondering if two of them, atleast, would ever awaken.

  Time had passed swiftly, but as the necessity for immediate action hadgone by, the hours gradually assumed something of their normal length.The night wore on. The air grew colder, the stars brighter, the skybluer, and, if such could be possible, the silence more intense. Thefire burned out, and for lack of wood could not be rekindled. Galepatrolled his short beat, becoming colder and damper as dawnapproached. The darkness grew so dense that he could not see the palefaces of the sleepers. He dreaded the gray dawn and the light. Slowlythe heavy black belt close to the lava changed to a pale gloom, then togray, and after that morning came quickly.

  The hour had come for Dick Gale to face his great problem. It wasnatural that he hung back a little at first; natural that when he wentforward to look at the quiet sleepers he did so with a grim and sternforce urging him. Yaqui stirred, roused, yawned, got up; and, thoughhe did not smile at Gale, a light shone swiftly across his dark face.His shoulder drooped and appeared stiff, otherwise he was himself.Mercedes lay in deep slumber. Thorne had a high fever, and wasbeginning to show signs of restlessness. Ladd seemed just barelyalive. Jim Lash slept as if he was not much the worse for his wound.

  Gale rose from his examination with a sharp breaking of his cold mood.While there was life in Thorne and Ladd there was hope for them. Thenhe faced his problem, and his decision was instant.

  He awoke Mercedes. How wondering, wistful, beautiful was that firstopening flash of her eyes! Then the dark, troubled thought came.Swiftly she sat up.

  "Mercedes--come. Are you all right? Laddy is alive Thorne's not--notso bad. But we've got a job on our hands! You must help me."

  She bent over Thorne and laid her hands on his hot face. Then sherose--a woman such as he had imagined she might be in an hour of trial.

  Gale took up Ladd as carefully and gently as possible.

  "Mercedes, bring what you can carry and follow me," he said. Then,motioning for Yaqui to remain there, he turned down the slope with Laddin his arms.

  Neither pausing nor making a misstep nor conscious of great effort,Gale carried the wounded man down into the arroyo. Mercedes kept athis heels, light, supple, lithe as a panther. He left her with Laddand went back. When he had started off with Thorne in his arms he feltthe tax on his strength. Surely and swiftly, however, he bore thecavalryman down the trail to lay him beside Ladd. Again he startedback, and when he began to mount the steep lava steps he was hot, wet,breathing hard. As he reached the scene of that night's camp a voicegreeted him. Jim Lash was sitting up.

  "Hello, Dick. I woke some late this mornin'. Where's Laddy? Dick,you ain't a-goin' to say--"

  "Laddy's alive--that's about all," replied Dick.

  "Where's Thorne an' Mercedes? Look here, man. I reckon you ain'tpackin' this crippled outfit down that awful trail?"

  "Had to, Jim. An hour's sun--would kill--both Laddy and Thorne. Comeon now."

  For once Jim Lash's cool good nature and careless indifference gaveprecedence to amaze and concern.

  "Always knew you was a husky chap. But, Dick, you're no hoss! Get me acrutch an' give me a lift on one side."

  "Come on," replied Gale. "I've no time to monkey."

  He lifted the ranger, called to Yaqui to follow with some of the campoutfit, and once more essayed the steep descent. Jim Lash was theheaviest man of the three, and Gale's strength was put to enormousstrain to carry him on that broken trail. Nevertheless, Gale went down,down, walking swiftly and surely over the bad places; and at last hestaggered into the arroyo with bursting heart and red-blinded eyes.When he had recovered he made a final trip up the slope for the campeffects which Yaqui had been unable to carry.

  Then he drew Jim and Mercedes and Yaqui, also, into an earnestdiscussion of ways and means whereby to fight for the life of Thorne.Ladd's case Gale now considered hopeless, though he meant to fight forhim, too, as long as he breathed.

  In the labor of watching and nursing it seemed to Gale that two daysand two nights slipped by like a few hours. During that time theIndian recovered from his injury, and became capable of performing allexcept heavy tasks. Then Gale succumbed to weariness. After hismuch-needed rest he relieved Mercedes of the care and watch over Thornewhich, up to that time, she had absolutely refused to relinquish. Thecavalryman had high fever, and Gale feared he had developed bloodpoisoning. He required constant attention. His condition slowly grewworse, and there came a day which Gale thought surely was the end. Butthat day passed, and the night, and the next day, and Thorne lived on,ghastly, stricken, raving. Mercedes hung over him with jealous,passionate care and did all that could have been humanly done for aman. She grew wan, absorbed, silent. But suddenly, and to Gale'samaze and thanksgiving, there came an abatement of Thorne's fever. Withit some of the heat and redness of the inflamed wound disappeared.Next morning he was conscious, and Gale grasped some of the hope thatMercedes had never abandoned. He forced her to rest while he attendedto Thorne. That day he saw that the crisis was past. Recovery forThorne was now possible, and would perhaps depend entirely upon thecare he received.

  Jim Lash's wound healed without any aggravating symptoms. It would beonly a matter of time until he had the use of his leg again. All thesedays, however, there was little apparent change in Ladd's conditionunless it was that he seemed to fade away as he lingered. At first hiswounds remained open; they bled a little all the time outwardly,perhaps internally also; the blood did not seem to clot, and so thebullet holes did not close. Then Yaqui asked for the care of Ladd.Gale yielded it with opposing thoughts-
-that Ladd would waste slowlyaway till life ceased, and that there never was any telling what mightlie in the power of this strange Indian. Yaqui absented himself fromcamp for a while, and when he returned he carried the roots and leavesof desert plants unknown to Gale. From these the Indian brewed anointment. Then he stripped the bandages from Ladd and applied themixture to his wounds. That done, he let him lie with the woundsexposed to the air, at night covering him. Next day he again exposedthe wounds to the warm, dry air. Slowly they closed, and Ladd ceasedto bleed externally.

  Days passed and grew into what Gale imagined must have been weeks.Yaqui recovered fully. Jim Lash began to move about on a crutch; heshared the Indian's watch over Ladd. Thorne lay haggard, emaciatedghost of his rugged self, but with life in the eyes that turned alwaystoward Mercedes. Ladd lingered and lingered. The life seemingly wouldnot leave his bullet-pierced body. He faded, withered, shrunk till hewas almost a skeleton. He knew those who worked and watched over him,but he had no power of speech. His eyes and eyelids moved; the rest ofhim seemed stone. All those days nothing except water was given him.It was marvelous how tenaciously, however feebly, he clung to life.Gale imagined it was the Yaqui's spirit that held back death. Thattireless, implacable, inscrutable savage was ever at the ranger's side.His great somber eyes burned. At length he went to Gale, and, withthat strange light flitting across the hard bronzed face, he said Laddwould live.

  The second day after Ladd had been given such thin nourishment as hecould swallow he recovered the use of his tongue.

  "Shore--this's--hell," he whispered.

  That was a characteristic speech for the ranger, Gale thought; andindeed it made all who heard it smile while their eyes were wet.

  From that time forward Ladd gained, but he gained so immeasurablyslowly that only the eyes of hope could have seen any improvement. JimLash threw away his crutch, and Thorne was well, if still somewhatweak, before Ladd could lift his arm or turn his head. A kind of long,immovable gloom passed, like a shadow, from his face. His whispersgrew stronger. And the day arrived when Gale, who was perhaps theleast optimistic, threw doubt to the winds and knew the ranger wouldget well. For Gale that joyous moment of realization was one in whichhe seemed to return to a former self long absent. He experienced anelevation of soul. He was suddenly overwhelmed with gratefulness,humility, awe. A gloomy black terror had passed by. He wanted tothank the faithful Mercedes, and Thorne for getting well, and thecheerful Lash, and Ladd himself, and that strange and wonderful Yaqui,now such a splendid figure. He thought of home and Nell. The terribleencompassing red slopes lost something of their fearsomeness, and therewas a good spirit hovering near.

  "Boys, come round," called Ladd, in his low voice. "An' you, Mercedes.An' call the Yaqui."

  Ladd lay in the shade of the brush shelter that had been erected. Hishead was raised slightly on a pillow. There seemed little of him butlong lean lines, and if it had not been for his keen, thoughtful,kindly eyes, his face would have resembled a death mask of a manstarved.

  "Shore I want to know what day is it an' what month?" asked Ladd.

  Nobody could answer him. The question seemed a surprise to Gale, andevidently was so to the others.

  "Look at that cactus," went on Ladd.

  Near the wall of lava a stunted saguaro lifted its head. A fewshriveled blossoms that had once been white hung along the flutedcolumn.

  "I reckon according to that giant cactus it's somewheres along the endof March," said Jim Lash, soberly.

  "Shore it's April. Look where the sun is. An' can't you feel it'sgettin' hot?"

  "Supposin' it is April?" queried Lash slowly.

  "Well, what I'm drivin' at is it's about time you all was hittin' thetrail back to Forlorn River, before the waterholes dry out."

  "Laddy, I reckon we'll start soon as you're able to be put on a hoss."

  "Shore that 'll be too late."

  A silence ensued, in which those who heard Ladd gazed fixedly at himand then at one another. Lash uneasily shifted the position of hislame leg, and Gale saw him moisten his lips with his tongue.

  "Charlie Ladd, I ain't reckonin' you mean we're to ride off an' leaveyou here?"

  "What else is there to do? The hot weather's close. Pretty soon mostof the waterholes will be dry. You can't travel then.... I'm on myback here, an' God only knows when I could be packed out. Not forweeks, mebbe. I'll never be any good again, even if I was to get outalive.... You see, shore this sort of case comes round sometimes in thedesert. It's common enough. I've heard of several cases where men hadto go an' leave a feller behind. It's reasonable. If you're fightin'the desert you can't afford to be sentimental... Now, as I said, I'mall in. So what's the sense of you waitin' here, when it means the olddesert story? By goin' now mebbe you'll get home. If you wait on achance of takin' me, you'll be too late. Pretty soon this lava 'll beone roastin' hell. Shore now, boys, you'll see this the right way?Jim, old pard?"

  "No, Laddy, an' I can't figger how you could ever ask me."

  "Shore then leave me here with Yaqui an' a couple of the hosses. We caneat sheep meat. An' if the water holds out--"

  "No!" interrupted Lash, violently.

  Ladd's eyes sought Gale's face.

  "Son, you ain't bull-headed like Jim. You'll see the sense of it.There's Nell a-waitin' back at Forlorn River. Think what it means toher! She's a damn fine girl, Dick, an' what right have you to breakher heart for an old worn-out cowpuncher? Think how she's watchin' foryou with that sweet face all sad an' troubled, an' her eyes turnin'black. You'll go, son, won't you?"

  Dick shook his head.

  The ranger turned his gaze upon Thorne, and now the keen, glisteninglight in his gray eyes had blurred.

  "Thorne, it's different with you. Jim's a fool, an' young Gale hasbeen punctured by choya thorns. He's got the desert poison in hisblood. But you now--you've no call to stick--you can find that trailout. It's easy to follow, made by so many shod hosses. Take your wifean' go.... Shore you'll go, Thorne?"

  Deliberately and without an instant's hesitation the cavalryman replied"No."

  Ladd then directed his appeal to Mercedes. His face was now convulsed,and his voice, though it had sunk to a whisper, was clear, andbeautiful with some rich quality that Gale had never heard in it.

  "Mercedes, you're a woman. You're the woman we fought for. An' someof us are shore goin' to die for you. Don't make it all for nothin'.Let us feel we saved the woman. Shore you can make Thorne go. He'llhave to go if you say. They'll all have to go. Think of the years oflove an' happiness in store for you. A week or so an' it 'll be toolate. Can you stand for me seein' you?... Let me tell you, Mercedes,when the summer heat hits the lava we'll all wither an' curl up likeshavin's near a fire. A wind of hell will blow up this slope. Look atthem mesquites. See the twist in them. That's the torture of heat an'thirst. Do you want me or all us men seein' you like that?...Mercedes, don't make it all for nothin'. Say you'll persuade Thorne,if not the others."

  For all the effect his appeal had to move her Mercedes might havepossessed a heart as hard and fixed as the surrounding lava.

  "Never!"

  White-faced, with great black eyes flashing, the Spanish girl spoke theword that bound her and her companions in the desert.

  The subject was never mentioned again. Gale thought that he read asinister purpose in Ladd's mind. To his astonishment, Lash came to himwith the same fancy. After that they made certain there never was agun within reach of Ladd's clutching, clawlike hands.

  Gradually a somber spell lifted from the ranger's mind. When he wasentirely free of it he began to gather strength daily. Then it was asif he had never known patience--he who had shown so well how to wait.He was in a frenzy to get well. He appetite could not be satisfied.

  The sun climbed higher, whiter, hotter. At midday a wind from gulfwardroared up the arroyo, and now only palos verdes and the few saguaroswere green. Every day the water in the lava hole sank an in
ch.

  The Yaqui alone spent the waiting time in activity. He made trips upon the lava slope, and each time he returned with guns or boots orsombreros, or something belonging to the bandits that had fallen. Henever fetched in a saddle or bridle, and from that the rangersconcluded Rojas's horses had long before taken their back trail. Whatspeculation, what consternation those saddled horses would cause ifthey returned to Forlorn River!

  As Ladd improved there was one story he had to hear every day. It wasthe one relating to what he had missed--the sight of Rojas pursued andplunged to his doom. The thing had a morbid fascination for the sickranger. He reveled in it. He tortured Mercedes. His gentleness andconsideration, heretofore so marked, were in abeyance to some sinister,ghastly joy. But to humor him Mercedes racked her soul with thesensations she had suffered when Rojas hounded her out on the ledge;when she shot him; when she sprang to throw herself over the precipice;when she fought him; when with half-blinded eyes she looked up to seethe merciless Yaqui reaching for the bandit. Ladd fed his cruellonging with Thorne's poignant recollections, with the keen, clear,never-to-be-forgotten shocks to Gale's eye and ear. Jim Lash, for oneat least, never tired of telling how he had seen and heard the tragedy,and every time in the telling it gathered some more tragic and gruesomedetail. Jim believed in satiating the ranger. Then in the twilight,when the campfire burned, Ladd would try to get the Yaqui to tell hisside of the story. But this the Indian would never do. There was onlythe expression of his fathomless eyes and the set passion of hismassive face.

  Those waiting days grew into weeks. Ladd gained very slowly.Nevertheless, at last he could walk about, and soon he averred that,strapped to a horse, he could last out the trip to Forlorn River.

  There was rejoicing in camp, and plans were eagerly suggested. TheYaqui happened to be absent. When he returned the rangers told himthey were now ready to undertake the journey back across lava andcactus.

  Yaqui shook his head. They declared again their intention.

  "No!" replied the Indian, and his deep, sonorous voice rolled out uponthe quiet of the arroyo. He spoke briefly then. They had waited toolong. The smaller waterholes back in the trail were dry. The hotsummer was upon them. There could be only death waiting down in theburning valley. Here was water and grass and wood and shade from thesun's rays, and sheep to be killed on the peaks. The water would holdunless the season was that dreaded ano seco of the Mexicans.

  "Wait for rain," concluded Yaqui, and now as never before he spoke asone with authority. "If no rain--" Silently he lifted his hand.