head while fumbling in his shirt for the rope he had thought to thrust
there in case of need.
“‘Keep hands over dat head, onless you lak eat bullets,’ was the guide’s
cool warning; then, from behind the man, he deftly tied his arms
together, and pulled him up to a tree to bind him securely to that
stanchion.
“‘I no lak hear much talk. Better show how still you keep,’ mumbled
Tally, taking Ben’s dirty bandanna and gagging his mouth.
“Then the Indian left his prisoner and returned to the camp-site.
“Meanwhile the cook had unbuckled one of the packs, but found it
contained the portable stove. With an impatient oath he leaned over to
feel of the other pannier, when a bright idea seemed to come to him.
“‘Sure ’nuff! why carry the stuff over to the fire, when you lazy
critters kin do it for ole Bill: Gid’dap! As he spoke he yanked at
Good-for-Nuttin’s bridle and dragged her by the head in the direction
of the camp-fire.
“So occupied was Bill in trying to get the three burros to move over to
the fire, that he failed to see the silent shadow which now leapt from
the woods and landed directly behind him. So close, in fact, that Bill,
in taking a backward step while pulling on Nuttin’s harness, felt an
unexpected impediment in his pathway. In a flash he felt a hand on his
hip and his revolver was gone! Instead of wheeling to confront whoever
it was that did this. Bill tried to dash for the burros and get behind
them. Tally was too quick.
“Bill dashed, it is true, but Tally could dash, too. And he did, landing
as close to his second prisoner as he had stood a moment before.
“‘No goot! han’s up!’ commanded Tally, pushing the cold barrel of the
gun up against the temple of the man.
“The rascal’s hands went up, but he turned to see who had captured him.
A wicked gleam of fury shot from his eyes when he recognized the guide
of the party that he had robbed.
“‘Now, meester outlaw, jes’ mosey up to that fine hoss over there,’
commanded Tally, coolly.
“‘Won’t you let me say a word to my pal?’ demanded Bill, trying to seem
brave.
“‘Pooty queek you say lot, but not now. Jes’ now you do lak _I_ say.’
The cold nose of the gun accented this order.
“In a few strides the two men, Captive and Captor, were over beside one
of the hobbled horses.
“‘Now tek rope f’om saddle,’ said Tally. The prisoner obeyed, though
reluctantly.
“‘You mek leetle noose,’ continued the Guide. This was done, then Tally
added: ‘You sleep him ofer two han’s lak bracelet, eh?’
“The Indian covered the man with his gun while giving the rope a twitch
that tightened it securely, around the wrists of the outlaw. Then he
bound his feet likewise.
“‘Now I eat an’ give my hones’ fren’s, the hosses an’ burrors, some
grub; nex’ we plan what to do, eh?” As he outlined his actions, the
Indian deftly opened the pack where he had stored the feed. He gave the
animals each a good drink of water; then hastily thinking and deciding,
he gave each a small measure of oats from the panniers. Then he took a
loaf of camp-bread, and a cold, fried trout left from breakfast, and ate
quickly. Bill watched greedily, but the guide had no idea of wasting
good food on worthless villains.
“After Tally had had a long drink from the spring near by the spot where
the camp had been started, he carefully smothered every vestige of the
camp fire. Then he glared over at Bill.
“‘Da’s what yuh forget to do down th’ trail. Mebbe he’em mek big blaze
ef I not fin’ he’em. Coyotes lak you-all burn down more God Amighdy’s
fine trees ’en the Creeador grow up again in a hunerd years. Mebbe you
lak feel how fire tas’es to some fine tree, eh?’
“Tally knew the value of a rest to his beasts of burden, so, after they
had finished their oats and had had a half hour’s quiet relaxation, he
decided to back-trail the way he had come. He made sure that not a spark
of the fire remained alive, then he went for Ben who had been left tied
to the tree. He led him to the clearing, but Bill groaned aloud when he
saw his pal was in the same plight as himself. The Indian made Ben put a
foot in the stirrup, “Fine! he’em all right. Now clim’ up saddle on dat
beeg hoss,” ordered Tally.
When Ben, hands, feet and body, was secured there, Tally went back to
Bill and drove him over to get up behind his pal. How the rascal managed
to sit upon the shiny rump of the animal was a wonder.
“Then the Guide sprang into the saddle of the other horse and started
his private caravan out of the clearing. He had gone back as far as the
old camp-site where the smoldering fire had been stamped out just in
time to prevent a conflagration, when an ominous sound from ahead and
above reached his acute hearing. Also the instincts of the high-bred
horses caused them to snort and paw the ground. The three little burros
flapped their great ears fearsomely, while the hair on their necks
seemed to stand up like bristles on a brush.
“‘Um-m-mm! murmured Tally, taking in the situation at once. ‘Mebbe you
fine outlaws mek udder fires an’ leave he’em lak you leave one dis
mornin’, so now we have fine beeg fores’ fire!’
“The Indian’s eyes flashed as he spoke. ‘Mebbe now I tie you to jus’
such beeg tree lak you burn down, an’ leaf you to tas’ nice hot fire
what you mek. My burro an’ dese two fine hosses what you steal, we go
down-trail an’ get out after we leaf you here.
“There was no mistaking the signs that the forest was on fire, but the
two cowards who now realized that the blaze was up in the direction of
their camp of yesterday cringed and begged of Tally to hurry and get
them out, else they would be roasted to death.
“‘Da’s goot for men what leaf camp fire smolder! goot for ’em to feel
how fine beeg trees feel when flames roast efery one. Mebbe you know
better when you baked goot and black lak forest after fire,’ Tally
believed in ‘rubbing it in’ once he had the golden opportunity.
“But he kept on down the trail, in spite of his threats to stop and tie
the two outlaws to the trees which now seemed to be doomed by the
fast-spreading fire.
“Finally the going became too precarious even for such a daring guide
as the Indian, and, true to instinct, he swerved away from the blazing
tree-tops above, and broke through an almost impassable jungle of
undergrowth. This wilderness proved to be merely a strip that separated
the winding stream he had followed, from a new trail recently blazed by
the Rangers.
“Following this comparatively easy path now Tally rode on behind his
cortege until he came to a forester’s blaze. Here he read that he was
riding _away_ from the bridge instead of to it. Consequently he drove
his cavalcade back, for a mile or more, to a cross-trail he had seen,
but which had looked too insignificant to take.
“Reaching this he stopped to read the blaze; thus he found he could
climb by the trail and strike into a good hard road where he would pass
by the spot where he had left his horse. This he did and after arduous
climbing he reached the log-bridge.
“He says he was so glad when he got his old horse back that he actually
kissed its nose. There was no sign of the devastating fire at this
section, and the horse had not even sniffed the smoke, and was well
rested and ready for another jaunt.
“Tally had to use the large flash-light all the way down-trail from the
bridge to this Lodge, and he says it was _some_ jaunt! The two outlaws
received no pity from him. Whenever they cried and begged to be allowed
to rest and have some food from the packs he pronounced stern judgment
upon them, and said:
“‘You no care what trouble you mek my frens, who mebbe go hungry when
you steal packs, so now you feel same way! Dat goot for you—it mek you
solly for my frens!” The scouts laughed at Mr. Gilroy’s mimicry of the
Guide.
“Well, girls, you know the rest of the tale: how Tally came across me as
I was ambling in at the gate of this Lodge, and how he met with a friend
who took charge of the horses and men.”
“Oh, Gilly! Is that all there is to the ending?” demanded Hester,
impatiently.
“Didn’t Tally get mixed up in a real honest-to-goodness western fight
that needs a sheriff?” asked Julie, scornfully.
“Why, the whole thing is _flat_, if Tally rode in as tame as all that,
Gilly!” added Joan.
“Well, I’m glad, for one, that the dear little burros and Tally weren’t
scorched by that awful fire!” sighed Betty.
Every one laughed, as they usually did, when Betty voiced an opinion,
and Julie added in disdain: “Pshaw! sounds like a Tenderfoot experience
in some camp-meeting resort instead of a wild west frontier adventure!”
“Maybe you-all will be pleased to hear the grand finalé of Tally’s
home-coming,” suggested Mr. Burt, quizzically.
“You mean the four suppers he managed to tuck away and then say ‘goot
job finish,’” laughed Julie, enjoying that part of the narrative.
“No, Tally ran head-on into Sandy and several men just as he was about
to turn in at the Lodge gate,” explained Burt.
“Why Gilly! You never mentioned Sandy in this story,” was Julie’s
exclamation.
“Not yet, but I am coming to that part of it now,” chuckled Mr. Gilroy.
“You see, Sandy had rushed to Santa Fé to secure a few men he knew in
these parts, and that is how he heard of two rich New Yorkers who had
their horses stolen while going to a spring for a drink of water. These
men had been given a lift in an automobile all the way back to Santa Fé,
where they hired a few recommended forest detectives to find their
animals. They also posted a reward of five hundred dollars for the
return of their horses and the two thieves. Well, as it happened that
the men they hired were the ones Sandy needed on _my_ job, and as it
seemed to be about the same locality where our burros had been led away,
he got all of them to come back with him. They planned to stop at
Bishops Lodge until dawn, then ride on up-trail and find the outlaws.
Tally saved them that trouble, as the two horses belonged to these New
Yorkers, and the two horse-thieves belonged in jail. And there is where
Sandy has conducted them, with the New Yorkers to prefer charges
against them and spare you scouts the trouble of doing so. Tally got the
reward, but he says he won’t keep it. He swears in Indian lingo that it
belongs to ‘um-m-m-m, eh-eh, scout!’”
CHAPTER TEN
ANCIENT RUINS AND MODERN ROMANCE
It had been unanimously agreed that all would wait at Bishops Lodge
until Sandy got back from Santa Fé, then all would ride to Taos Pueblo
together. Therefore Tally was told to stay in bed as long as he liked
and not get up for breakfast, but it was not necessary to advise the
girls, as they had no idea of going to bed at two o’clock and getting up
at dawn, when there would be nowhere to go. Hence every one slept in the
morning.
At a very late breakfast it was hastily decided to drive out in an
automobile to the Nambe Indian Reservation where Burt could collect such
information as might prove to be valuable for his articles in the paper.
They could all be back at the Lodge in the afternoon by the time Sandy
was expected. The horses and burros would have rested twelve or more
hours then, and could resume the trail.
This plan was carried out, and when the party returned to the Lodge they
were delighted to find the Ranger had arrived shortly before them.
“Hello, friends!” called Sandy coming out to the large porch. “I know
you’re all glad to see me feeling so well and happy.”
The scouts laughed and crowded around him, asking for particulars of the
arrest. Also they were eager to know what the New Yorkers did after the
outlaws were in jail—and what became of the splendid horses?
“Gee, I’m glad I am rested and had dinner,” retorted Sandy. “All those
questions to answer at once.”
“Save yourself, Sandy,” laughed Mrs. Vernon. “Because I’m going to make
the girls go up and gather their belongings. Gilly says we will take the
trail in half-an-hour and camp out to-night.”
“Of course you will come with us?” said Julie.
“I want to,” returned Sandy, his eyes telling the girl how much he
really did want to. “But I must have a word with the Captain alone,
before I decide.”
Therefore the Captain stepped aside and heard what the Ranger had to
say. After a serious talk the two of them entered the Lodge.
“You girls can scoot to your rooms and get your doo-dabs, can’t you?”
asked Mr. Gilroy.
So they went in, but saw nothing of the Captain or Sandy, as they passed
through the main hall. Shortly after they had gone to their rooms, Mrs.
Vernon and Sandy, with two strange young men of Sandy’s age, came out
and spoke to Mr. Vernon and Mr. Gilroy. Hearing the proposition, Mr.
Gilroy said:
“As you say, Captain. It’s your party, you know.”
Therefore the scouts discovered upon their return to the entrance of the
Lodge that two fine-looking young college graduates had been added to
the party. And to their astonishment, and to Tally’s joy, these men
owned and rode the two thoroughbred horses which the Indian had found
and brought back. They had been well cared for in the stable at the
Lodge the previous night, and now were fresh as ever and ready to go on.
Victor Adair, one of the two strangers, was dark, slender and most
entertaining, once he became acquainted. His friend and traveling
companion Godfrey Chase, was very blond and good-natured, but not as
quick-witted as his chum.
“Do we take the trail to Tesuque Creek, thence to the pueblo of
Tesuque?” asked Sandy, when all were ready to start.
“You know best, Sandy. We’ll follow,” said Mr. Gilroy.
“All right then, Tesuque Pueblo is not far, and after visiting there we
may have time to jog along to Cuyamunque where we can pitch camp for the
night,” outlined Sandy.
At Tesuque the scouts found few Spaniards; the citizens mostly were
pure-blooded Indians. The natives make strange pottery which is for
sale, so Mrs. Vernon purchased many curious animal forms of images,
called “gods.” The prehistoric pueblo proved to be interesting, and Burt
and Julie found the visit to be worth the trouble; he gathered some
splendid copy for his article in his paper, and the scout secured
several excellent photographs for her work.
They did not attempt to go farther that night than the fine camp-site at
the forks of Tesuque Creek. Tally made every one go to work and, soon,
they were settled as if camp had been established for a week.
That night was a merry one around the camp fire. Singing, tale-telling,
and star-gazing, to say nothing of the chaff that pleases young folks,
made the time fly until Mr. Gilroy said it was time to say good-night.
The following morning the riders resumed the trail and, quite naturally,
paired off as best suited them. Sandy rode with Julie, Mr. Gilroy and
Betty; Adair and Joan followed; then Hester and Chase. Mrs. Vernon rode
with Burt, and Mr. Vernon with Tally.
The trail led through Cuyamunque, before branching to a north-easterly
direction to touch at Nambe; the two young men recently added to the
scout-party had not seen the old Indian village, so now they visited the
ancient ceremonial kiva, and then went up the rocky gorge to see Nambe
Falls. Thence they rode by Escondillo, and Julie got several good
pictures of the old buildings.
The road now took them through sandstone hills cast in weird shapes.
Later they stopped at Sanctuario to visit its quaint chapel, then
continued on to Chimayo where Mrs. Vernon and Mr. Gilroy purchased a
number of very fine blankets woven on primitive looms by the natives.
That night they camped on the Truchas river, where it crossed the trail,
and in the morning they resumed trailing in an easterly direction to
Trampas then northly to Taos. It was twilight when they reached Ranchos
de Taos where rest and a good supper proved to be most welcome.
Mrs. Vernon had had to keep a vigilant eye on the flirtatious young men
who fully appreciated four sweet, pretty girls, because she was bound to
deliver her young charges heart whole to their mothers. But the scouts
had no concern over such fears, and thus enjoyed to the full the
companionship of the well-bred college boys.
The Pueblo of Taos, divided by the Taos River, proved to be most
interesting, its great walls rising on the river-sides to the height of
seven stories, two stories higher than the famous Zuria pueblo.
Julie and her friends took many splendid pictures of this ancient
fastness of the Taos Indians: the seven kivas; the adobe wall with is
loop-holes which surrounds the village of more than four hundred
natives; the ever artistic groups of Indians; and other appealing
pictures.
Young Adair and his friend Chase had planned to follow the trail from
Taos to Las Vegas, but now they changed their itinerary. Mrs. Vernon
understood why, but Betty said innocently: “Maybe they’re afraid to take
such a long trail alone, Verny; you see, they are perfectly safe with a
party like ours.”
“Well, Betty, I’m not so sure of that!”
“Oh, Verny! you know that not _one_ of us would steal their horses,”
exclaimed Betty, shocked at the Captain’s words.
“No, not their horses, Betty, but how about their hearts?
“Verny! What _do_ you mean,” gasped the girl, turning to look at the
convulsed faces of her scout chums. At the look on her face they lost
all control and burst into laughter. But their very merriment assured
Mrs. Vernon that they had no sentimental ideas concerning the young men.
On the ride back to Santa Fé the scout-party followed the Rio Grande
River, stopping over night at San Juan and Santa Cruz, and from the
latter place riding out to visit the great Puye Ruins. It is located
upon the Pajarito plateau, and is said to have 1600 rooms. It is built
in terraces similar to those at Taos. The caves and shrines are well
preserved and many prehistoric implements have been excavated from the
sands of centuries.
The scouts had a very pleasant visit, because the inhabitants were
friendly and hospitable. Riding down-trail from Española they camped at
San Ildefonso, where the Pojoaque River and the Rio Grande intersect.
The remaining twenty-seven miles to Santa Fé they proposed to make the
next day. As this ride to Taos, with all the side-trips the scouts had
made, was a long though interesting one, the girls were most willing to
give the horses a good rest once they arrived in Santa Fé.
“The animals may rest in peace, but we, with the sight-seeing germ, ‘go
on forever,’” complained Joan, stretching her lithe young form.
“You do not _have_ to, you know,” retorted Julie, “You may stable
yourself for a rest, if you prefer it to ‘going on’ with us.”
“Not much! I don’t want to be left out of any fun,” laughed Joan. “But I
sure will be thankful to be left out of that saddle for a few days.”
“Oh, as for _that_, we’ll all be thankful for that dispensation,” added
Mrs. Vernon.
Mr. Gilroy rode up to the girls at this moment and said: “Captain, Sandy
tells me that he knows of a first-class little ranch house just on the
outskirts of Santa Fé where our party can be accommodated in an
unostentatious way. We won’t have to consider dressing for meals or pay
attention to style. What say you?”
“I should prefer it to any hotel in the city,” replied Mrs. Vernon. “How
about you, girls.”
“Is Sandy and his friends going on to a hotel in the city?” asked Julie.
Mr. Gilroy chuckled. “No, they plan to stop at Belnap Ranch, that’s why
they seem so anxious to have you stay there.”
“Then we’ll stop at Belnap Ranch—just to spare our nerves the rack of
trying to keep up with tourists at a city hotel,” was Joan’s emphatic
reply.
It was with hopes centered upon the fun to be had in the next few days’
visit at Belnap Ranch that the young folks rode forward to the slight
elevation from which they could get a good view of Santa Fé. Sandy acted
as official information bureau now. He pointed out the Museum, the Old
Palace, the Cathedral which was started in 1612, the San Miguel Church,
centuries old, and then he directed their attention to the up-to-date
churches, hotels and business buildings. Finally they turned and rode on
down to Belnap’s Ranch House.
“What narrow streets the city seems to have,” commented Joan.
“Queer, isn’t it, with so much vacant land adjacent to the town?” added
Julie.
“How different it will seem from the mountains,” added Hester.
“You have not really _seen_ Santa Fé, my dears,” said Mrs. Vernon.
“Wait till you have gotten into the spirit of this ancient city and then
judge.”
“The Captain is right. Once you feel the spirit of the ‘City of the Holy
Faith,’ and know its history, you will doubtless decide it is the most
alluring place you have visited this summer,” said Mr. Vernon.
“While Verny and I go out to assist Tally with the horses and burros,
you scouts may as well go about and get a look at things,” suggested Mr.
Glroy.
But Mrs. Vernon hastily interpolated: “Not till after every one has
washed, and brushed away the dust and stains of travel; then we’ll meet
on the piazza and decide what to do.”
“Will the police arrest us for going about the streets in riding
breeches?” questioned Betty, fearfully.
“If the Indians wander in and out of town with scarcely enough on to
cover their bodies, I doubt if any one will stop to notice our togs,”
laughed Joan.
“I shouldn’t advise you to try the main streets and visit the stores, or
stop to see the Museum and the Cathedral,” laughed Mr. Vernon.
Then the scouts hurried to the low-ceiled rooms they were to occupy, and
were soon ridding themselves of the signs of the long trail.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PADRE MIGUEL’S STORY
When they reappeared on the piazza in simple tailor-made suits, they
found the young men already there. Sandy was engaged in an interesting
conversation with an aged old priest who had stopped at the mission with
some newspapers. He smiled divinely at the group of girl scouts and his
salute, as he lifted his trembling right hand, seemed like a
benediction.
He went indoors, and instantly Julie turned to her companions and
whispered: “You-all wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.” Before the
Captain could reply the girl disappeared behind the swingdoors. A few
moments later she returned, followed by the mild-looking old priest.
“Captain, this is Padre Miguel of the little ancient chapel we passed
just before coming to the city. He says he would be pleased to tell us
many interesting things which he personally remembers since he came to
Santa Fé in his youth. Padre, this is my scout Captain, Mrs. Vernon,
and these are my friends, Joan, Hester, and my twin-sister, Betty.
Scouts this is Padre Miguel,” was Julie’s explanation. “The young men
you know already.”
The priest acknowledged the introduction in English, but the Spanish
accent was noticeable.
Adair instantly pulled out a wooden chair for the Padre, who very
courteously placed it for Mrs. Vernon, and she, smiling, thanked him and
sat down. At the same time Sandy had discovered a second chair at the
end of the narrow piazza, and now ran to fetch it. The scouts sat on the
top step of the entrance from the pathway, and were anxiously waiting
for the promised tale. The young men seated themselves Indian fashion,
upon the grass at the foot of the steps and seemed more interested in
the girls than in the Padre’s words.
“What a wonderful story you could tell, Padre, if you have lived in
Santa Fé so many years,” began the Captain, encouragingly.
The wrinkled old priest nodded his head.
“Yes, my children, I can. Many, many miracles I see in this city since I
come to be shepherd to my flock in leetle mission seventy year ago. I
now eighty-eight, my children, and it’s mos’ time I called home to
render account of my work.”
“How wonderful! to watch the growth of this city,” breathed Mrs. Vernon.
“Ye’es; to-day she have t’ree railroads, many mails a day, ’lectric
lights an’ telephones, with plenty fine improvement, but then, ah!” the
Padre’s tone was significant.
“The Old Palace—that long, one-story building of Spanish-Moorish
architecture at the Plaza—tell many story if its walls could spik. You
might hear all about our Spanish Warriors of the olden times—so far back
as when the pueblo people use the stone meal-bins and corn caves still
to be seen there, and lived on that same place long before the Spanish
Conquerors came in 1605 to use the site for their own fort.
“So lately as 1912 when Santa Fé say it must cut through some arch and
change inside to make more room, they fine conical fireplaces such like
you see in prehistoric caves in New Mexico—mebbe some Indian t’ousand
years back use dis cave dwelling.