COLONEL WARLOW'S STORY--CONTINUED.
"Let me see--where was I?" said the colonel, who had paused to light his
pipe at this critical juncture of the narrative.
"Twenty thousand leagues under the sea," replied Grace Moreland, gaily.
"Well, I certainly could not have suffered more in the same time if I
had been," said he with a grim smile. "But just when I had given up all
hope, and thought my lungs would burst, I straightened up, determined to
come to the surface at any risk. Lo! I had been groping along in four
feet of water--and only a step from the shore!
"I had only time to plunge forward and clutch a jagged rock, when a
mighty wave swept in, nearly tearing me from my place; but this time I
held fast, and when the wave had receded I clambered up out of further
danger, and there I lay, too utterly exhausted to move until dawn.
"I had hoped that daylight would reveal the presence of my companion;
but the sun struggled up over a lone stretch of rocky, barren
shore--nothing living was visible. I strained my eyes, gazing out over
the long line of breakers. It was a fruitless quest; I was alone.
"Then I climbed up to the table-land. A sandy plain, broken by patches
of sage-brush and thickets of chapparal was before me, and out toward
the rising sun rose a lofty chain of mountains, as though to shut me out
from all the world.
"I walked around the promontory and along the coast for several miles,
still hoping I might find my friend; in vain. I shouted repeatedly; no
answer. So with a heavy heart I turned and walked inland.
"After assuaging my thirst at a cavity in the rocks, where the
rain-water had collected, and satisfying my hunger with the eggs of a
wild fowl, the nest of which I found near a sage-brush, I continued my
explorations inland toward a pass which seemed to open in the mountains
toward the east.
"As I neared the glen, trees, a brook, and a flock of sheep became
visible. Then, to my great delight, a house showed through the trees;
and when a woman appeared in the doorway, I hurried forward and
addressed her in Spanish, to which she replied in the same tongue.
"I told my story of shipwreck, and the kind-hearted peasant woman bade
me welcome to the humble dwelling, and proceeded to set before me a
repast of omelet and frijoles. While I was still seated at the table,
her husband, Pedro, came in from herding his flock, and we soon were on
our way to the village to make inquiries regarding my lost friend and
the crew of the _Lapwing_. But nothing could be learned of them; so I
retired to rest, and that night slept the dreamless sleep of sheer
exhaustion.
"In the morning I renewed the search, but with no better results; and
although I traveled along the coast for more than a score of miles,
nothing could be found but the bodies of three sailors that I recognized
as having been among the crew of the ill-fated ship. At last, weary and
heart-sore, I joined a party of miners, and proceeded to San Francisco;
but as my inquiries there also proved fruitless, I immediately went to
the diggings, where my fortunes soon mended, and I was able to send a
small purse to honest Pedro.
"During my stay in the mines I had frequent letters from home, and
sister Amy expressed great sorrow at the fate of my noble friend Roger;
but I wrote that it might yet be possible he was living, and we still
hoped on. The greatest comfort to me, however, were the letters from
Mary, who urged me to return and not wait to acquire more gold; and as
my luck was 'jes powerful,' as the miners averred, I found at the end of
two years I had saved $50,000, and deciding to 'let well-enough alone,'
set sail for home.
"As we were sailing out through the now world-renowned Golden Gate, the
captain, to whom I had just intrusted my money, remarked that I did not
seem to enter into the spirit of joy that pervaded the throng of
returning miners; and in reply to his look of inquiry and tone of
interest, I said that the last time I was on a ship I had witnessed a
terrible storm, in which the vessel was wrecked, the crew and a dear,
kind friend were lost, and I alone was saved; and now the sight of the
ocean, once again, recalled it all so vividly that I was sad and
grieved, even in the hour when I should rejoice that all my toil was
over. I was too affected to talk further, but looked wistfully out over
the cruel sea that had closed over Roger, my best and truest friend.
"The captain, after a few moments of silence, asked in a tone of
sympathy:--
"'What was the name of the vessel that was wrecked?'
"'The _Lapwing_,' I replied.
"'But the crew and passengers were saved,' said he quickly.
"'Saved!--Roger saved!' I shouted, dizzy with joy; then as I sank into a
seat, weak and unnerved, the officer continued:--
"'Yes, the crew was saved. They were picked up by a vessel bound for
Acapulco. You can learn the particulars by calling on the American
consul at that port, as I believe he took charge of them and assisted
them on to their respective destinations.'
"'I'll give you a thousand gold dollars to put me off at Acapulco,' I
cried impulsively.
"'Agreed,' said he, with a laugh. 'We always do stop there, and take a
day to revictual and water. No, my friend, keep your hard-earned
dollars; but if you find your gratitude burdensome, why, just name your
next boy after me;' then he left me with a good-natured smile.
"I will say that I found it a very pleasant way of discharging the debt
by naming my oldest son here after the good old sea-dog, Captain
Clifford; and some way I always associate the name with the thought of
that day when I heard the good news.
"How interminable seemed the long, bright days, as we sailed southward!
I paced the deck for hours, and grew morose and nervous, chafing under
the slowness of the stout craft. 'But all things have an end'--an adage,
by the way, which my dealings and travel in the tropics has led me to
doubt--and when, one evening, we sailed into the long-wished for harbor,
I was so impatient to land that only the thought of sharks prevented me
from swimming ashore.
"After night-fall, however, I found myself in a crooked, winding alley,
termed a street in the florid courtesy of that tropic land, and offering
a coin to a villainous-looking native--the only guide I could
procure--asked him to show me the way to the American consulate; and we
were soon _en route_ thitherward, I, meanwhile, taking the precaution to
cover my vile-looking guide with a pistol in one hand and a bowie-knife
in the other.
"For an age, it seemed, we tramped through the murky, unlighted streets,
until at last we arrived before a fortress-like building, at the gate of
which blinked one solitary lamp.
"At my request to see the consul, the servant informed me that 'his
worshipful master had driven out this morning to dine with the noble Don
Pablo de Zorilla, and that he would remain to the ball at the mansion of
that illustrious senor,' etc.
"I could barely refrain from kicking the miserable flunky, and the air
grew thick and maroon with the expressions in which my disappointment
found utterance. Telling the porter that I hoped his lazy master would
not stop the 'wheels of commerce' to-morrow to eat garlic and capsicum
with the aristocracy, I returned to the vessel."
"Next morning I called again at the consulate, and the scowling porter,
after conducting me to a room, said that his master was sleeping, but he
was instructed to say 'to the insolent American' that his excellency
'was too lazy to see me until he had slept off the effect of the garlic,
capsicum, and other kindred delicacies, of which he had been partaking.'
Then, grinning derisively, the servant left the room, banging the door
behind him.
"Well, I just stormed up and down that room for two long hours, fuming,
raving, and hurling invectives at all the tribe of official sluggards.
At length, hearing footsteps without, I clenched my hands in rage,
vowing wrath and vengeance on the insulting and self-sufficient officer;
but when the servant opened the door and announced, 'Senor Consul,' my
anger was all forgotten, and, instead of greeting that functionary with
a thwack on the ear, I sprang forward with a wild cry:--
"'Roger--Oh, Roger--am I dreaming?'
"'George--George--is it possible? Alive and well? I've mourned you as
dead for years. Thank God--at last!'
"As I stood there wringing his hand and gazing on his dear face through
my tears, it is needless to say all my belligerent designs oozed
magically away.
"We were soon interrupted, however, by the porter, who, at the first
strange demonstration on my part, had fled shrieking 'Murder! murder!'
his outcry bringing a whole brood of slipshod servants down upon my
devoted head. They came swarming in, armed with gridirons, tongs, and
gourds. One sallow, emaciated peon carried a crucifix, which he had
evidently snatched as he flew to the rescue. A burly fellow was just on
the eve of disemboweling me with a pot-metal poniard, when Roger
hastened to explain that we were old friends who had not met for years,
and as they retreated in a crestfallen manner, with many grunts and
shrugs, we both smiled at the ludicrous phase of our meeting; yes, I
believe that 'smiled' is a very mild term to apply to our hilarity on
that occasion.
"Reminding Roger that the vessel sailed at four P. M., and my stay
therefore was limited, I begged him to tell me the particulars of his
happy escape, and when we were comfortably seated on the easy-chairs in
the secluded court, he told briefly how he, with several others, clung
to the capsized boat, and had been rescued by a passing vessel, bound
southward. On reaching Acapulco he had called at the American consulate,
but found the consul prostrated with yellow-fever, and (as Roger had
passed through an attack of that dread scourge at New Orleans a few
years previous to this) he had volunteered to nurse the stricken
officer, who slowly recovered from the fearful malady.
"While that grateful invalid was convalescing, Roger had been intrusted
with the accumulated business of the post. Having discharged the duties
devolving on him to the satisfaction of his employer, that gentleman had
deputized him as vice-consul, and then returned to the States.
"Finally the consul resigned, and Roger, on his recommendation, was
appointed to the office as his successor, meantime receiving a hint from
the home government to make himself as agreeable as possible to the
natives.
"'Which you see, George,' said he with a merry smile, 'meant to acquire
a taste for "garlic and capsicum."'
"Then, at his request, I related my experience; how I had searched in
vain for him along the coast; had gone to the mines and made my 'pile,'
and on embarking for home had learned of the rescue of the crew and
passengers of the _Lapwing_; the long days of suspense that had
followed, and my impatience to learn something of his fate. I did not
omit telling how narrowly he escaped a sound flogging at my hands after
I had been kept waiting so long, which caused him great merriment.
"During our brief conversation I had been conscious of an undercurrent
of burning anxiety to learn the fate of Bruce Walraven and his wife. The
suspense and uncertainty which had haunted me for two long years--the
mystery of their fate--would now vanish forever, I knew; but I shrank
with a strange foreboding from asking the truth which my heart had so
long been vainly seeking. My dry lips and parched tongue could only
feebly articulate as I begged Roger to tell me the sequel of that
terrible tragedy at the Old Corral.
"With a look of pain on his handsome face, he said, in a faltering
voice:--
"'I was journeying along on the Santa Fe Trail from Independence,
Missouri, to California. Our large train had been delayed at Council
Grove by a rumor that the Cheyennes were on the war-path; but nothing
having been seen of the marauders, we started out, after a few days,
trusting to our numbers for defense, and when we arrived at the Stone
Corral, on the bank of the Cottonwood, a scene of revolting horror met
our startled sight--a scene that will live forever in my memory.
"'The stone walls of the corral had been hurled down, and near the side
of the stream were the charred and crisped remains of at least fifty
human victims, mingled with the irons of the wagons, which evidently had
been fired and the bodies thrown into the blaze.'
"'There were fifty-four persons in our train--How many bodies were
found?' I asked, breathlessly.
"'We counted the smouldering skeletons, and found that fifty-three
persons had fallen victims to the diabolical fury of the Indians.'
"'Oh, God--all gone!' I cried, hoarse with the misery of their certain
destruction--'gallant Bruce and beautiful, kind Ivarene! What a terrible
fate!'
"'We were burying the skeletons on a knoll a few hundred paces westward
from the Old Corral,' continued Roger, 'and were carrying stone from the
confused mass of its ruined wall to place about the long trench, in
which the remains were laid, when moans, like some one in pain, were
heard as if issuing from the earth.
"'The mournful scene through which we had just passed had so utterly
shocked and unnerved us, that it is little wonder we felt it might be
the spectres of the victims still haunting the scene of the awful
tragedy; but a moment's reflection set us to searching among the ruins,
which resulted in our finding you, wounded and delirious, buried under
the fallen wall.
"'Several large stones had rested against the lower part of the wall,
and thus, in a providential manner, shielded you from the avalanche of
stone which had fallen when the savages had thrown down the wall by
prying with the wagon tongues, that were still lying about as they had
left them.
"'We placed you on a canvas stretcher, and put you in one of my wagons.
As there was a physician in our train, you did not lack for medical
attention; but that dreadful gash on your head was very slow in healing.
As your mind was completely shattered, and you remained delirious all
the long journey to Santa Fe, we could not bear the thought of leaving
you there among strangers, but brought you on to Los Angeles with the
train.'
"'I never before have told you, Roger, that there was more than one
hundred thousand dollars in gold and gems with our train; but such was
the case;' and as he sprang up in amazement, I told him briefly the
history of Bruce and Ivarene, and how I had lost my fortune of fifty
thousand dollars in gold with that of my dear friends on that night of
horror and despair.
"'It is needless to say,' replied Roger, 'that no trace of the treasure
was found; but it seems incredible that so vast a sum could have been
carried away by the savages! Did you have any liquor with the train?' he
asked in a thoughtful manner.
"'Yes, several barrels of wine and brandy,' I answered.
"'Then that accounts for the blood on the grass, near several newly made
graves close by. The Indians had found the brandy, no doubt, and the
massacre ended in a drunken row among themselves, in which several of
them had died a violent death. It is a mystery, though,' he added, 'how
a pack of drunken, wrangling savages could have divided such an amount
of coin without leaving some trace. And, George, I would advise you to
make a systematic search on your return,' he continued; 'for it may have
been that the treasure was buried there.'"
"Did you ever make the search?" asked Clifford Warlow of his father, in
an eager tone.
"No; certainly not," replied the colonel; "it would have been folly to
suppose that the band of pilfering, murderous savages would have left
anything valuable behind."
But the answer did not satisfy his son, who looked out toward the knoll
where the Old Corral, with its broken walls, cast long shadows in the
slanting sunbeams; and as the colonel proceeded with his story it was
noticed, by more than one of the group, that Sabbath afternoon, that
Clifford remained lost in thought, and his eyes roamed from the speaker
out over the scene of that tragedy of bygone years.
"At the end of that mournful story," pursued the colonel, "I was pressed
by Roger to remain with him until the next vessel passed; but I
declined, thanking him, and telling him that Mary was waiting for me on
the banks of the Missouri, and I could tarry no longer than a few brief
hours, until the craft would sail. Then, as we stood on the ship,
whither he had accompanied me, I told him to remain in the cabin for a
moment until I could return. Then going to the captain, I asked him for
the money which I had deposited with him.
"The fifty thousand dollars was carried into the room where Roger was
waiting, and when the sailors had retired, I said, in answer to his look
of inquiry, that I was prepared to execute the compact which we entered
into at Los Angeles, to be 'pards,' and divide profit and loss; and I
tendered him there on the spot twenty-five thousand dollars, which was
one-half of my savings in the mines. Roger would not hear to the
proposition; he scouted the idea of 'robbing me of my hard earnings,'
and all my pleadings were in vain,--he was obdurate.
"I reminded him how I owed my life to his care and kindness; but my
entreaties all were unavailing, as he would only ridicule the offer,
saying that he had now more than enough for an old bachelor. So I
finally desisted, but told him that should he ever need assistance or
the services of a friend, to call on me, for I felt a debt of gratitude
which I could never repay him.
"I smile even yet to think how I blushed when I showed him Mary's
picture; and while he was looking with undisguised admiration at the
miniature of sister Amy, I told him how she had never ceased to regret
his sad fate, and that in her last letter, which I handed him, she had
written that she still vaguely hoped he might some time return; that he
may have escaped--'such things sometimes do occur--and she could yet
thank him for his care and tenderness to her brother.' When the dear
fellow beamed with such delight, I proceeded to say how delighted she
and my mother would be to have him make us a long visit soon, which he
readily promised to do within the year. As he still held the picture of
my beautiful sister, and seemed so reluctant to surrender it, I ignored
it entirely or pretended to do so, and as we proceeded with our talk, I
saw, with half an eye, that he furtively slipped it into his pocket, at
which I was so gratified, I had to pinch myself to keep from dancing a
jig of delight.
"It was hard indeed to part with Roger, and not before he again promised
to visit me within a year did I say farewell; then we were again sailing
out on our homeward voyage. We tarried but a short time on the Isthmus
of Panama; for, in fact, I had but an indifferent opinion of that little
neck of land, made up, it seemed, of snakes, centipedes, and bad smells.
Whew! it makes me faint, even yet, to remember how those nasty, vile,
old swamps radiated their bad odors! There had just been an earthquake
to roil up the concentrated filth which was packed away in those slimy
bayous, and as every whiff of wind came loaded with its own peculiar
stench, the variety became so wearying that I grew at length tired of
the 'nasal panorama,' and vainly yearned for the friendly precincts of a
glue factory.
"It always seemed to me that Nature had aimed to make a sea of the
isthmus, but had taken the flux or cholera, and left her work but half
completed."