“I disremember them,” he answered. “I hain’t said none since Iwas half the height o’ that gun. I guess it’s never too late. You saythem out, and I’ll stand by and come in on the choruses.”
“Then you’ll need to kneel down, and me too,” she said, layingthe shawl out for that purpose. “You’ve got to put your hands uplike this. It makes you feel kind o’ good.”
It was a strange sight had there been anything but thebuzzards to see it. Side by side on the narrow shawl knelt the twowanderers, the little prattling child and the reckless, hardenedadventurer. Her chubby face, and his haggard, angular visage wereboth turned up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt entreaty tothat dread being with whom they were face to face, while the twovoices—the one thin and clear, the other deep and harsh—unitedin the entreaty for mercy and forgiveness. The prayer finished,they resumed their seat in the shadow of the boulder until thechild fell asleep, nestling upon the broad breast of her protector.
He watched over her slumber for some time, but Nature provedto be too strong for him. For three days and three nights hehad allowed himself neither rest nor repose. Slowly the eyelidsdrooped over the tired eyes, and the head sunk lower and lowerupon the breast, until the man’s grizzled beard was mixed with thegold tresses of his companion, and both slept the same deep anddreamless slumber.
Had the wanderer remained awake for another half hour astrange sight would have met his eyes. Far away on the extremeverge of the alkali plain there rose up a little spray of dust, veryslight at first, and hardly to be distinguished from the mists of thedistance, but gradually growing higher and broader until it formeda solid, well-defined cloud. This cloud continued to increase insize until it became evident that it could only be raised by a greatmultitude of moving creatures. In more fertile spots the observerwould have come to the conclusion that one of those great herdsof bisons which graze upon the prairie land was approaching him.
This was obviously impossible in these arid wilds. As the whirlof dust drew nearer to the solitary bluff upon which the twocastaways were reposing, the canvas-covered tilts of waggons andthe figures of armed horsemen began to show up through the haze,and the apparition revealed itself as being a great caravan upon itsjourney for the West. But what a caravan! When the head of it hadreached the base of the mountains, the rear was not yet visibleon the horizon. Right across the enormous plain stretched thestraggling array, waggons and carts, men on horseback, and menon foot. Innumerable women who staggered along under burdens,and children who toddled beside the waggons or peeped out fromunder the white coverings. This was evidently no ordinary partyof immigrants, but rather some nomad people who had beencompelled from stress of circumstances to seek themselves a newcountry. There rose through the clear air a confused clatteringand rumbling from this great mass of humanity, with the creakingof wheels and the neighing of horses. Loud as it was, it was notsufficient to rouse the two tired wayfarers above them.
At the head of the column there rode a score or more of graveiron-faced men, clad in sombre homespun garments and armedwith rifles. On reaching the base of the bluff they halted, and helda short council among themselves.
“The wells are to the right, my brothers,” said one, a hardlipped,clean-shaven man with grizzly hair.
“To the right of the Sierra Blanco—so we shall reach the RioGrande,” said another.
“Fear not for water,” cried a third. “He who could draw it fromthe rocks will not now abandon His own chosen people.”
“Amen! Amen!” responded the whole party.
They were about to resume their journey when one of the youngestand keenest-eyed uttered an exclamation and pointed up at therugged crag above them. From its summit there fluttered a little wispof pink, showing up hard and bright against the grey rocks behind.
At the sight there was a general reining up of horses and unslingingof guns, while fresh horsemen came galloping up to reinforce thevanguard. The word “Redskins” was on every lip.
“There can’t be any number of Injuns here,” said the elderly manwho appeared to be in command. “We have passed the Pawnees,and there are no other tribes until we cross the great mountains.”
“Shall I go forward and see, Brother Stangerson?” asked one ofthe band.
“And I,” “and I,” cried a dozen voices.
“Leave your horses below and we will await you here,” theElder answered. In a moment the young fellows had dismounted,fastened their horses, and were ascending the precipitous slopewhich led up to the object which had excited their curiosity. Theyadvanced rapidly and noiselessly, with the confidence and dexterityof practised scouts. The watchers from the plain below could seethem flit from rock to rock until their figures stood out againstthe skyline. The young man who had first given the alarm wasleading them. Suddenly his followers saw him throw up his hands,as though overcome with astonishment, and on joining him theywere affected in the same way by the sight which met their eyes.
