DICK'S SNAP SHOT
The sun rose late down in that deep crevice, and for that reason, added
to the lateness of the hour at which we had gone to bed, we did not wake
up next morning till after six o'clock. We found, however, that Pedro
had been up a couple of hours at least, for he had a good fire going,
had made everything ready to start breakfast, and moreover he had been
up on the mountain and had brought down Arthur's horse and his own burro
from the little valley where they had been left at pasture.
When I, myself, awoke, I found that Dick was ahead of me. He was
standing by the fire, warming himself--for the mornings were still
cold--and talking to Pedro, who, I guessed, was explaining something,
for he was waving his long arms energetically, first in one direction
and then in another.
"Well, Dick," said I, as we sat cross-legged on the ground, eating our
breakfast, "what is this idea of yours? Does it still look as favorable
as it seemed to do last night?"
"Better," replied Dick, with his mouth full of bacon. "A great deal
better. I felt pretty confident last night that I was on the way to earn
that half-interest in the Hermanos Grant, and this morning, since
talking with Pedro, I feel more confident still."
"Is that so?" cried Arthur. "I hope you're right. What is it you think
you have discovered?"
"In the first place," replied Dick, "I have discovered that we are a lot
of wiseacres: we have been going around with our eyes shut."
"How?" we both asked.
"If we hadn't had our heads so full of the old copper mine, and if we
hadn't been so bent on finding the trail to it, we should never have
made the mistake we did."
"What mistake?" I asked. "Hurry up, Dick! Don't take so long about it.
What are you driving at?"
"Why, this!" replied my partner, suddenly sitting up straight and
wagging his finger at us. "This trail we have been following, all the
way from Hermanos up to the edge of the cañon, was not a trail at
all--it was a ditch!"
"A ditch!" we both exclaimed.
"Yes, a ditch. A ditch dug by those old Pueblo Indians to carry water
down to that wide, level stretch of ground at the back of the _Casa_.
I'm sure of it. If you give up the idea of a trail and consider it as a
ditch, all its peculiarities will be explained at once. It will account
for its uniform grade, for its unexpected distinctness, and more than
everything else, it will account for the fact that the 'trail' never
once dipped down a hill or climbed one either, but
always--invariably--went round the head of every gully, deep or shallow,
that came in its way."
"Upon my word, Dick!" cried Arthur. "I believe you _have_ made a
discovery! I believe that it is the line of an old ditch, after all;
though the pack-trains doubtless used it as a convenient road as far as
the top of the cañon and then switched off down here by that shelf in
the wall."
"That's my idea," said Dick, nodding his head.
"But, look here, Dick," Arthur went on, after a moment's thoughtful
pause. "Suppose it is an old ditch--where did the water come from?
That's the question. A ditch without water isn't much use."
Dick laughed. "No," said he. "I understand that well enough. The water
came from this 'island,' up here above our heads, and was carried across
the cañon in a flume!"
"Ah!" I cried. "I see! What we at first supposed to have been a bridge
up there, built for the accommodation of the pack-trains, was in reality
a flume for carrying water."
"That's what I believe," replied Dick.
"Well, but see here, Dick," remarked Arthur again. "Suppose that there
was a flume there for carrying water--where's the water now? That's the
point. That's what I want to know."
"Ah!" replied my partner. "And that was what I wanted to know, too. That
was the very question that bothered me until I talked to Pedro about it
just now. I asked him if he had ever seen or heard of a stream of water
coming down from the top of this high land, and I can tell you he eased
my mind of a load when he told me he had. He says there is a good big
waterfall which jumps off the cliff on the north side of the 'island'
and falls into this stream we are camped upon now, but about twelve or
thirteen miles below this point, following the bends of the creek."
"Is that so? Then the chances are that that is the stream from which
the Pueblos used to get their water. Did you ask Pedro if he knew of any
way of getting up there?"
"Yes, I did, and I'm sorry to say he doesn't know of any. He says that
this 'island' is really an island, being compassed about on all sides by
cañons of varying depths; that it includes a large tract of country,
part mountain and part plain; and that to the best of his knowledge, no
man has ever set foot on it. In that, though, I'm pretty sure he's
mistaken. In fact, it is as certain as anything can be that there is a
way up somewhere, or else, how did the Pueblos get over there in the
first place? They didn't fly across this gorge; and yet they must have
worked from both sides at once when they built their flume."
"That's true. Well, Dick, it does look as though you had made a genuine
discovery, and one likely to be of great value. What's your idea, then?
You and Frank will stay here and hunt for the old Pueblo ditch-head, I
suppose, while I dig out for home by myself. I wish I could stay and
hunt with you, but there's no knowing how long it may take, and
meanwhile my father and mother will be worrying themselves to know what
has become of me. I've been here now a good bit longer than I intended.
I must get back at once and----"
"Look here, Arthur," Dick interrupted. "Excuse me for cutting in, but
I'd like to make a suggestion. There is just a possibility--I don't
expect it, I own, but there is a possibility--that if Galvez were
informed that you know how he came to be padron of Hermanos, and also of
his connection with the Espinosas, he might get scared and skip out of
his own accord--which would simplify matters for you very much. Now,
here's what I propose--if you really are bound to leave at once."
"Yes," Arthur interjected. "I mustn't stay a minute longer than I can
help."
"Well, then, I propose that before you go--it will only make a
difference of a couple of hours--before you go, Frank and I will ride
down to Hermanos, see old Galvez, tell him what you have told us, and
recommend him to take his departure. Perhaps he'll be scared and skip
out; but if he won't, why, then you'll know where you stand. How does
that strike you?"
"Hm!" muttered Arthur, doubtfully. "I don't much like the idea of
running you into danger. Galvez is such a treacherous fellow, there's no
knowing what he might do to you."
"That's true enough," said Dick; "though I don't think he would attempt
anything on two of us at once, and in broad daylight, too. It might be
to his advantage to get rid of you or Pedro or both, but he would surely
have sense enough to see that he wouldn't gain anything by hurting
either of us."
"That's a fact. Well, suppose you go, then. But be careful."
"We'll be careful," replied my partner. "You needn't worry yourself on
that account."
By this time we were ready to start, and accordingly we all rode
together up the ledge until we came out again at the point where the old
flume used to be--where we pointed out to Arthur the sockets in the
rock--and thence, continuing to the foot of the mountain, Dick and I,
leaving the others to wait for us, galloped off toward Hermanos.
By good fortune, as we approached the village, we saw Galvez himself
down near the creek, where he was directing three of his _vaqueros_ who
were engaged in cutting out cows from a bunch of wild Mexican cattle.
Further down stream, only a short distance from the houses, we noticed
half-a-dozen Mexican children, very busy making mud pies, quite
unconcerned, apparently, at the proximity of the herd of cattle. It
happened, however, that just as we came riding up to where Galvez sat on
his horse, shouting orders to his men, a gaunt, wild-eyed, long-horned
steer broke out of the bunch on the down-stream side. One of the cowmen
dashed forward to turn it, when, to his astonishment, the steer, instead
of running back into the bunch or attempting to dodge him, charged the
rider and knocked him and his little broncho over and over. Then, wildly
tossing its head, the beast made straight for the group of unsuspecting
and defenceless children.
"Loco! Loco!" shouted Galvez. "Rope him, one of you!"
The two other men galloped forward, swinging their lariats, but the
locoed steer, going like a scared antelope, had such a start that it
looked as though it would surely reach the children before the men could
catch it. Seeing this, Galvez pulled out his revolver and fired six
shots at it in quick succession. Whether he hit the steer or not, I
cannot say, but even if he did the range was too great for a revolver to
be effective--unless by a lucky chance.
The children, hearing the shots, looked up, saw the steer coming, and
scattered like a flock of sparrows--all but one of them, that is to say.
He, a brown-bodied little three-year-old, without a scrap of clothing
upon him except a piece of string tied round his middle, stood stock
still, with his little hands full of mud, seemingly too frightened to
move, and straight down upon this little bronze statue the crazy beast
went charging.
It looked as though a tragedy were imminent!
It was at this moment that my partner and I came riding up behind
Galvez, who, sitting on his horse with his back to us, his body
interposed between us and the steer, had not seen us yet. It was no time
for ceremony. Without wasting words in greetings or explanations, Dick
jammed his heels into his pony's ribs; the pony sprang forward; Dick
pulled him up short, leaped to the ground, threw up his rifle and fired
a snap shot. Down went the steer, heels over head, gave one kick and lay
dead--shot through the heart!
It was a grand shot! The three _vaqueros_, two on their horses and one
on foot, carried away by their enthusiasm, forgot for once their
habitual dread of the padron, and waving their hats above their heads
joined me in a shout of applause; while as for Galvez, himself, he sat
on his horse with his empty revolver in his hand, gazing open-mouthed
first at Dick and then at the dead steer, seemingly rendered speechless
for the moment.
At length he turned to me, who had come up close beside him, and said:
"Can he always do that?"
"Just about," I replied, with a nod. "He is one of the best shots in the
State."
"Hm!" remarked the padron, sticking out his lower lip and thoughtfully
scratching his chin with his thumb-nail; and though that was all he did
say, the muttered exclamation conveyed to me as much meaning as if he
had talked for five minutes.
That Dick's remarkable shot had made a great impression on him I felt
certain, and it was a matter of much satisfaction to me to think that it
had; for if at any time he should entertain the idea of resorting to
violence against any of us, the recollection of how that steer had
pitched heels over head would probably cause him to think again.
The whole episode had not occupied more than two minutes, at the end of
which time Galvez, recovering himself, turned to us and said, in his
usual gracious manner:
"Well, you two, what have you come back here for?"
"We have come down to speak to you," replied Dick, as he slipped another
cartridge into his Sharp's rifle. "We have just parted with Señor Blake
and El Tejon."
The padron scowled at the mention of the two names.
"Oh, you have, eh? Well, what then?" he asked.
"Señor Blake," my partner continued, "wished us to say that he has
learned how you came to be padron of Hermanos. Pedro has told him the
whole story--everything--the Espinosa business and all."
"Oh! And is that all?"
"That's all," said Dick.
The padron, I have no doubt, had been expecting some such communication
and had made up his mind beforehand what to say, for, after sitting for
a few seconds looking at Dick without a word, he smiled an unpleasant,
toothless smile, and said:
"That's all, is it? Well, you go back to your Señor Blake and tell him
that here I am and here I stay, and if he thinks that three beardless
boys and a shiftless, half-crazy peon can make me move, why, he's
welcome to try. There! That's all on my side." He started to ride off,
but after a few steps stopped again to add: "Except this:--I recommend
you two boys to get along back home as fast as you can and leave this
young Blake--if that is really his name--to manage his own affairs. You
may find it dangerous to be mixed up with them."
He said this in an aggressive, menacing tone; but I noticed, all the
same, that his eye wandered involuntarily toward the dead steer, and I
congratulated myself again on the lucky chance that had given Dick the
opportunity to show his skill with a rifle. Galvez, I was convinced,
would be exceedingly careful how he provoked a quarrel with any one who
could shoot like that.
"Very well, señor," said Dick. "We will deliver your message. That is
all we came for." And with that we turned round and rode away again.
In the course of an hour we were back at the foot of the mountain, where
we found Arthur sitting on the ground waiting for us.
"Well, what luck?" he cried. "What did Galvez have to say?"
We told him all about our interview with the padron, not forgetting the
episode of the wild steer, at hearing which Arthur expressed much
gratification.
"That was a very fortunate chance," said he. "Galvez may profess to
despise three beardless boys, but after seeing one of them shoot a
running steer at three hundred yards, I expect he will think twice
before he stirs up a fuss with them. It is just the sort of thing--and
the only sort of thing, too--to make an impression on a man like that.
What is your idea, Dick? Do you think he intends to stick it out, or was
he only 'bluffing'?"
"I don't know," replied my partner. "I'm afraid he means to hold on. But
though at present he puts on 'a brag countenance,' as the saying is,
when he has had time to reconsider he might change his mind and skip. My
impression is, though, that he means to hold on."
"I think so, too," said I. "What is Pedro's opinion?"
"Ah! Yes. Let us ask Pedro."
"Señores," said the Mexican, when Arthur had explained the whole matter
to him in Spanish, "the padron is a pig, a mule. He will not move."
"Then that settles it!" cried Arthur, jumping up, walking away a few
paces and coming back again. "I never really expected that Galvez would
move, though it was worth trying. So now I'll be off at once. As for
that old ditch-head, though I should have liked very much to stay and
help hunt for it, you three can, as a matter of fact, make the search
just as well without me. And whether you find it or whether you don't,
makes no difference in one way--the business of getting Galvez out of
Hermanos will have to proceed regardless of that or any other
consideration. We have two things to do, you see:--To turn out Galvez
and to find that ditch-head. The first is my business; the second is
yours; and the sooner I get about mine the better, if I am to give you a
clear title to your half-interest when you are ready to claim it."
"As to that," remarked Dick, "I don't think we ought to hold you to that
bargain. It was made more or less in joke, anyhow."
"No, no, it wasn't!" cried Arthur, emphatically. "Not a bit of it! I
meant it then and I mean it still. I'm quite content. You provide the
water and I'll provide the land, as I said. It's a fair bargain. I don't
want to be let off. But before I can perform my part of it I must prove
my own title, and as I can't do it at this end of the line I'll waste no
more time here, but get right back home as fast as I can and report the
conditions to my father."
"Well," said Dick, after a moment's thoughtful silence, "I believe you
are right. I believe that is the best way after all, unless----"
"Unless what?"
"Unless we abandon the whole thing."
"Abandon----!" cried Arthur; but he got no further, for Dick, holding up
his hand, said, laughingly:
"All right, old man! All right! You needn't say any more. I only
suggested it just to see what you would say. So you are determined to go
through with this thing, are you? Very well, then, you may count on us
to do our part if it's doable. Eh, Frank?"
I nodded. "We'll find that ditch-head," said I, "if we have to stay here
till snow flies."
"Good!" cried Arthur. "Then that does settle it. I'll be off this
minute. Bring my horse, Pedro: I'm going to start at once."
"Look here, Arthur," remarked Dick. "I think it would be a good plan if
Frank and I were to escort you to the other side of Hermanos. Galvez, I
expect, guessed what you were after when you first told him your name,
and now he'll be sure of it, and it might be pretty dangerous for you if
you should meet him alone; so we'll just ride part way with you and see
you safely started."
"Thanks," replied Arthur. "I shall be glad of your company. Well, let us
get off, then. Good-bye, Pedro. I expect you'll see me back here before
very long. _Adios!_"
Thus taking leave of the burly Mexican, Arthur started off, Dick and I
riding on either side of him.
Keeping about a mile to the north of Hermanos, we circled round that
village, and were making our way southeastward toward the Cactus Desert,
when we saw off to our right a great cloud of dust, and in the midst of
it a bunch of cattle accompanied by three men.
At first we were suspicious that Galvez might be one of them, but pretty
soon we discovered that they were the three _vaqueros_ we had seen that
morning. They, on their part, quickly detected us, when one of them
immediately turned his horse and came riding toward us.
As soon as he had come pretty close I saw that it was the one whose
horse had been knocked over by the locoed steer. This man, advancing to
Dick, pulled off his hat, and speaking with considerable feeling, said:
"I wish to thank the señor who shoots so straight. It was my little boy
who was in danger."
"Was it?" cried Dick. "I'm very glad, then, that I happened to make such
a good shot. The steer was locoed, of course."
"_Si, señor_," replied the man. "It happens sometimes. This one was very
bad. It should have been killed long ago, but the padron would not. I am
grateful to the señor, and if I can serve him at any time I shall be
glad."
"Thank you," said Dick. "What is your name?"
"José Santanna," replied the man.
"Well, José," continued Dick, "I'm much obliged to you for your offer,
and if I need your help at any time I'll come and ask you."
"_Gracias, señor_," replied the man; and with that he turned and
galloped after his companions.
"That's a good thing for us," remarked Arthur. "We may find it very
handy to have an ally in the enemy's camp. And now, you fellows," he
continued, "you may as well turn back. I'm safe enough now, and there is
no need for you to come any further. I hope it won't be long before you
see me back again. Meanwhile you'll search for that ditch-head, and if
there is anything you can do toward getting the water down, you'll go
ahead and do it. That's the plan, eh?"
"That's the plan," repeated my partner.
"Very well. Then, good-bye, and good luck to you!"