Many years ago, in the northern part of Texas, lived a small band of
Indians among whom were a young brave and a young maiden lost in love.
For the sake of convenience, we shall call the young brave Running Elk
and the maiden Laughing Water. She was the daughter of old Chief White
Eagle, but in the veins of the warrior lover there was no royal blood,
and the father refused to allow the marriage that both of the lovers so
greatly desired.
The refusal was not, however, based primarily on the difference in
rank. Running Elk was an ideal young brave. He was the best hunter in
the band; no other could run so swiftly, ride so skilfully, or shoot an
arrow so truly as he. His bravery had been tried more than one time. In
a battle he had once, single handed, fought and killed six of the
enemy. Many a chieftain would have been proud to claim such a warrior
for son-in-law. Indeed, Chief White Eagle was pleased with the suitor,
but his tribe was a weak tribe and he wanted his daughter to marry into
a strong tribe. Such an alliance he regarded as necessary against
powerful enemies.
After many pleadings with the old chief and as many refusals, the
lovers saw that there were but two courses left to them. They could
give up all hope of marriage and let the negotiations that were already
under way for the marriage of Laughing Water into a powerful tribe
proceed; or they could run away and seek united refuge in a strange
tribe. They chose the latter course.
It was dark midnight when Laughing Water met Running Elk at the
outskirts of the Indian village. He had two ponies ready, and the
lovers were on their way immediately. They rode during the remainder of
the night and almost all the following day. Late in the afternoon they
saw a cloud of moving dust rising perhaps an hour’s ride behind them.
The pursuers were gaining ground rapidly.
The runaways were now in the edge of a strange, mountainous country.
Their horses were tired and farther journey on them meant capture, then
torture. Running Elk called a halt, and when the girl had dismounted,
he tied a thorny stick to the tail of each horse, gave the horses a
slash with the thong of buffalo hide that he used for a bridle, and saw
them disappear down a draw. Then he and the maiden set out on foot,
selecting rocks and hard gravel for a path. Their tribesmen would be
baffled by the trail for a little time at least.
After the couple had traveled in this way for what seemed to them a
long while, they reached the top of a mountain covered with cedar,
walnut, and scrub oak. All at once they came upon a wide crevice. They
turned their direction and were as suddenly confronted by another
crevice, narrow and forty or fifty feet deep. This they descended,
taking care not to loosen rocks or earth.
The two Indians were surprised to find that this break led to a network
of such passages, the widths of which varied from a foot to twenty or
thirty feet. The walls were of solid rock and rose to a height of from
forty to sixty feet. On the tops of these rocks had formed a soil that
sustained a variety of vegetation. A greenish moss covered the sides of
the rocks and against them clung straggling vines; from the tops and
from niches along the sides, prickly pears hung; here and there a tree
grew up out of the bottom of the fissures and swept its branches over
the tops of the cliffs. A cold spring trickled from the bottom of one
of the rock walls.
The lovers knew that there must be a cave somewhere amid such
surroundings. They began to search for it, and had searched only a
little while when they came to a small mountain lake. It was at a kind
of gateway between mountain and plateau, and on the mountain side was
the cave. It opened into the lake, its floor well above the level of
the water, and extended back into the enormous boulder.
Running Elk swam to the mouth of the cave and climbed in, and with his
senses as alert as those of the panther explored the darkness. He found
that the recess ran back some twenty feet and that it was clear of
harm. He swam back to the shore, got his beloved, and returned to the
cave. The two had not been hidden ten minutes when they heard their
tribesmen making camp by the water. Presently a few of the young bucks
went into the lake for a swim. One of them discovered the mouth of the
cave and called to his companions. They all came to him and began to
talk of exploring the place.
Huddled close to each other in the remotest part of the cave, the
lovers waited. Though they were themselves in pitchy darkness, they
could see the world outside; however, dusk was approaching. Then they
saw one of the bucks raise his body into the edge of the cave. He
paused, fixed himself, and reached down to give a hand to a companion.
Just then the lovers heard a wild shouting. They recognized the voice
of their Medicine Man. He was screaming to the braves to come away from
the cave, and telling them that all caves with their openings in or
just above water were inhabited by evil spirits. The braves left the
cave with frenzied strokes and soon the silence told that all the
Indians had deserted the region of the lake. Again the lovers breathed
freely.
But they would not leave their refuge until they were sure of safety.
All that night, all the next day, and all the next night, they remained
in hiding. Then they left in search of a friendly tribe to take up
with, and the story generally goes that they found hospitality and
security.
The white man has changed the looks about the picturesque region where
the couple wandered and hid; but the cave and lake where they evaded
their pursuers bears in memory of them the name of Lovers’ Retreat.