The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise., November 29, 1922, Page PAGE SIX, Image 6

About The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise. (Cody, Wyo.) 1921-1923

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PAGE SIX
DESERT GOLD
"GOLDI”
SYNOPSIS.—Seeking gold in the
desert, "Cameron,’’ solitary pros
pector, forms a partnership with
an unknown man whom he later
learns is Jonas Warren, father of
a girl whom Cameron wronged,
but later married, back in Illinois.
Cameron’s explanations appease
Warren, and the two proceed to
gether. After many hardships
they are reduced to the limit of
physical endurance. In a dying
condition they seek refuge ifi a
cave, once occupied by a prehis
toric people of the Southwest.
Ill—Continued.
Cameron stole off among the rocks.
How long he absented himself or
what he did he had no Idea. When
he returned Warren was sitting before
the campfire, and once more he ap
peared composed. He spoke, and his
voice had a deeper note; but other
wise he seemed as usual.
They packed the burros and faced
the north together.
Cameron experienced a singular ex
altation. He had lightened his com
rade’s burden. Wonderfully It came
to him that he had also lightened his
own. From that hour It was not tor
ment to think of Nell.
IV
There came a morning when the
sun shone angry and red through a
dull, smoky haze.
"We’re In for sandstorms,” said
Cameron.
They had scarcely covered a mile
when a desert-w*le, moaning, yellov'
wall of flying sand swooped down
upon them. Seeking shelter In the lee
of a rock, they covered their heads
and patiently waited. The long hours
dragged, and the storm Increffced in
fury. Cameron and Wtvre.i wet
scarfs with water frsrs theh canteens,
and bound them rvflim their faces,
and then covered their heads. The
steady, hollow bellow of flying sand
went on. It flew so thickly that enough
gifted down under the shelving rock to
weight she blankets and almost bury
the men. They were frequently com
pelled to shake off the sand to keep
from being borne to the ground. And
it was necessary to keep digging out
the packs. They lost the count of time.
They dared not sleep, for that would
have meant being burled alive.
The storm finally blew Itself out. It
left the prospectors heavy and stupid
for want of sleep. Their burros had
wandered away, or had been buried
In the sand. Far as eye could reach
the desert had marvelously changed;
it was now a rippling sea of sand
dunes. Away to the north rose the
peak that was their only guiding
mark. They headed toward It, carry
ing a shovel and part of their packs.
At noon the peak vanished in the
shimmering glare of the desert. The
prospectors pushed on, guided by the
sun. In every wash they tried for
water. With the forked peach branch
in his hands Warren always succeed
ed In locating water. They dug, but
It lay too deep. At length, spent and
sore, they fell and slept through that
night and part of the next day. Then
they succeeded in getting water, and
quenched their thirst, and filled the
canteens, and cooked a meal.
The burning day found them In an
interminably wide plain, where there
was no shelter from the fierce sun.
Mountain peaks loomed on all sides,
some near, others distant; and one,
a blue spur, splitting the glaring sky
far to the north, Cameron thought he
recognized as a landmark. The ascent
toward it was heartbreaking, not In
steepness, but In its league-and-league
long monotonous rise. Cameron knew
there was only one hope—to make the
water hold out and never stop to rest.
Warren began to weaken. Often he
bad to halt
Cameror measured Jhe water in his
canteen f wy its weight Evaporation
by heat consumed as much as he
drank. During one of the rests, when
he had wetted his parched mouth and
throat, he found opportunity to pour
a little water from his canteen Into
Warren’s.
At first Cameron had curbed his
restless activity to accommodate the
pace of his elder comrade. But now
he felt that he was losing something
of his Instinctive and passionate zeal
to get out of the desert. The thought
of water came to occupy bls mind. He
began to imagine that his last little
store of water did not appreciably di
minish. He knew he was not quite
right In his mind regarding water;
nevertheless, he felt this to be more
of fact than fancy, and he began to
ponder.
When next they rested he pretended
to be in a kind of stupor; but he cov
ertly watched Warren. The man ap
peared far gone, yet he had cunning.
He cautiously took up Cameron’s can
teen and poured water into It from
bls own.
( This troubled Cameron. He reflect
ed, and concluded that he had been
unwise not to expect this very thing.
Then, as his comrade dropped into
weary rest, he lifted both canteens.
If there were any water In Warren’s,
it was only very little. Both men had
been enduring the terrible desert
thirst, concealing it, each giving his
water to the other, and the sacrifice
had been useless.
Instead of ministering to the
parched throats of one or both, the
water had evaporated. When Cam
eron made sure of this, he took one
more drink, the last, and poured the
By ZANE GREY
Author of
The Riders of the Purple Sage,
Wildfire, Etc.
Copyright by Harper & Brothers.
little water left into Warren’s can
teen. He threw his own away.
Soon afterward Warren discovered
the loss.
’’Where’s your canteen?” he asked.
"The heat was getting my water,
so I drank what was left.”
"My son!” said Warren.
The day opened for them in a red
and green hell of rock and cactus.
Like a flame the sun scorched and
peeled their faces. Warren went
blind from the glare, and Cameron
had to lead him. At last Warren
plunged down, exhausted, In the shade
of a ledge.
Cameron rested and waited, hope
less, with not, weary eyes gazing
dowa from their height where he sat.
Movement on the part of Warren at
tracted his attention. Evidently the
old prospector had recovered his sight
and some of his strength. For he had
arisen, and now began to walk along
the arroyo bed with his forked peach
branch held before him. He had clung
to that precious bit of wood. Warren,
however, stepped in a deep pit, and,
cutting his canteen in half, began to
use one side of it as a scoop. He
scooped out a wide hollow, so wide
that Cameron was certain he had gone
crazy. Cameron gently urged him to
stop, and then forcibly tried to make
him. But these efforts were futile.
Warren worked with slow, ceaseless,
methodical movement. He tolled for
what seemed hours. Cameron, seeing
the darkening, dampening sand, real
ized a wonderful possibility of water,
and he plunged Into the pit with the
other half of the canteen. Then both
men tolled, round and round the wide
hole, down deeper and deeper. The
sand grew moist, then wet. At the
bottom of the deep pit the sand coars
ened, gave place to gravel. Finally
water welled in, a stronger volume
than Cameron ever remembered find
ing on the desert.
The finding of water revived Cam
eron’s flagging hopes. But they were
short-lived. Warren had spent him
self utterly.
"I’m done. Don’t linger,” he whis
pered. "My son, go—go I”
Then he fell. Cameron dragged him
out of the sand pit to a sheltered
place under the ledge. While sitting
beside the failing man Cameron dis
covered painted images on the wall.
Often in the desert be had found these
evidences of a prehistoric people.
Then, from long habit, he picked up a
piece of rock and examined It. Its
weight made him closely scrutinize It.
The color was a peculiar black. He
scraped through the black rust, to
find a piece of gold. Around him lay
scattered heaps of black pebbles and
bits of black, weathered rock and
t i I M J
/ 1/ LBI/V
"Warrenl Look! See It! Feel It!
Gold!"
pieces of broken ledge, and they
showed gold.
"Warrenl Look! See It! Feel It!
Gold 1”
But Warren was too blind to see.
"Go—go!” he whispered.
Cameron gazed down the gray
reaches of that forlorn valley, and
something within him that was nei
ther Intelligence nor emotion—some
thing Inscrutably strange—lmpelled
him to promise.
Then Cameron built up stone monu
ments to mark his gold strike. That
done, he tarried beside the uncon
scious Warren. Moments passed—
grew Into hours. Cameron still had
strength left to make an effort to get
out of the desert. But that same In
scrutable something which had or
dered his strange, Involuntary promise
to Warren held him beside his fallen
comrade. As the long hours wore on
he felt creep over him the comfort
ing sense that he need not forever
fight sleep. Absolute silence claimed
the desert. It was mute. Then that
Inscrutable something breathed to
him, telling him when he was alone.
He need not have looked at the dark,
still face beside him.
Another face haunted Cameron's—a
woman’s face. It was there in the
white moonlit shadows; it drifted in
the darkness beyond; it softened,
changed to that of a young girl, sweet,
with the same dark, haunting eyes of
her mother. Cameron prayed to that
nameless thing within him, the spirit
of something deep and mystical as
life. He prayed for mercy to a wom
an—for happiness to her child. Both
mother and daughter were close to
him then. Time and distance were
annihilated. He had faith—he saw
Into the future. The fateful threads
of the past, so inextricably woven
with his error, wound out their tragic
length here in this forlorn desert.
Cameron then took a little tin box
from his pocket, and, opening it, re
moved a folded certificate. He had
kept a pen, and now he wrote some
thing upon the paper, and In lieu of
ink he wrote with blood. The moon
afforded him enough light to see; and
having replaced the paper, he laid the
little box upon a shelf of rock. It
would remain there unaffected by
dust, moisture, heat, time. How long
had those painted images been there
clear and sharp on the dry stone
walls? Years would pass. Cameron
seemed to see them, too; and likewise
destiny leading a child down into this
forlorn waste, where she would find
love and fortune, and the grave of her
father.
Cameron covered the dark, still face
of his comrade from the light of the
waning moon.
That action was the severing of his
hold on realities. They fell
froip him In final separation. Vaguely,
dreamily he seemed to behold his
soul. Night merged into gray day;
and night came again, weird and dark.
Then up out of the vast void of the
desert, from the silence and 1111m
-1 tableness, trooped his phantoms of
peace. Majestically they formed
around him, marshaling and muster
ing in ceremonious state, and moved
to lay upon him their passionless
serenity.
CHAPTER I
Old Friends.
Richard Gale reflected that his so
journ in the West bad been what his
disgusted father had predicted—
idling here and dreaming there, with
no objective point or purpose.
It was reflection such ak this, only
more sei ions and perhaps somewhat
desperate, that had brought Gale down
to the border. For some time the
newspapers had been printing news
of the Mexican revolution, guerrilla
warfare. United States cavalry pa
trolling the International line, Ameri
can cowboys fighting with the rebels,
and wild stories of bold raiders and
bandits. Regarding these rumors Gale
was skeptical. But as opportunity,
and adventure, too, had apparently
given him a wide berth in Montana,
Wyoming, Colorado, he had struck
southwest for the Arizona border,
where he hoped to see some stirring
life.
It was after dark one evening in
early October when Richard arrived
in Caslta. There was a Jostling, Jab
bering, sombreroed crowd of Mexicans
around the railroad station. He felt
as if he were in a foreign country.
After a while he saw several men of
his nationality, one of whom he en
gaged to carry his luggage to a hotel.
Os the many people encountered by
Gale most were Mexicans. His guide
explained that the smaller half of
Caslta lay In Arizona, the other half
in Mexico, and of several thousand
inhabitants the majority belonged on
the southern side of the street, which
was the boundary line. He alsr?
said that rebels had entered the town
tliat day, causing a good deal of ex
citement.
Gale was almost at the end of his
financial resources, which fact occa
sioned him to turn away from a pre
tentious hotel and ask his guide for
a cheaper lodging house. When this
was found, a sight of the loungers in
the office, and also a desire for com
fort, persuaded Gale to change his
traveling clothes for rough outing
garb and boots.
"Well, I*m almost broke,” he solilo
quized, thoughtfully. "The governor
said I wouldn’t make any money. He’s
right-—so far. And he said I’d be
coming home beaten. There he’s
wrong. I’ve got a hunch that some
thing ’ll happen to me in this Greaser
town.”
He went out into the wide, white
washed, high-celled corridor, and
from that into an Immense room
which, but for pool tables, bar and
benches, would have been like a
courtyard. Bare-legged, sandal-footed
Mexicans In white rubbed shoulders
with Mexicans mantled In black and
red. There were black-bearded,
coarse-visaged Americans, some gam
bling round the little tables, others
drinking. There were khaki-clad cav
alrymen strutting in ana out.
At one end of the room, somewhat
apart from the general melee, was a
group of six men round a little table,
four of wem were seated, the other
two standing. These last two drew
a second glance from Gale. The
sharp-featured bronzed faces and
piercing eyes, the tall, slender, loosely
Jointed bodies, the quiet, easy, reck
less air that seemed to be a part of
the men—these tilings would plainly
have stamped them as cowboys with
out the buckled sombreros, the col
ored scarfs the high-topped, high
heeled boots with great silver-roweled
spurs.
He satisfied his hunger In a restau
rant adjoining, and as be stepped
back Into the saloon a man wearing
a military cape jostled him. Apolo
gies from both were Instant. Gale was
moving on when the other stopped
short as if startled, and, leaning for
ward, exclaimed:
"Dick Gale? If this isn’t great!
Don’t you know me?”
"I’ve heard your voice somewhere,”
replied Gale. “Maybe I’ll recognize
you If you came out from under that
bonnet.”
For answer the man, suddenly mani
festing thought of himself, hurriedly
drew Gale into the restaurant, where
he thrust back his hat to disclose a
handsome, sunburned face.
"George Thorne 1 So help me— M
" ’S-s-ssh. You needn’t yell,” Inter
rupted the other, as he met Gale’s
outstretched hand. There was a close,
hard, straining grip. "1 must not be
recognized here. There are reasons.
I’ll explain In a minute. Say, but it’s
fine to see you! Five years, Dick, five
years since I saw you run down Uni
versity field and spread-eagle the
whole Wisconsin football team.”
"Don’t recollect that,* replied Dick,
laughing. "George, I’ll bet you I’m
gladder to see you than you are to
see me. It seems so long. You went
into the army, didn’t you?”
“I did. I’m here now with the
Ninth cavalry. But—never mind me.
What’re you doing way down here?”
"On the square, George, I don’t
know any more why I’m here than —
than you know.”
"Well, that beats me!” ejaculated
Thorne, sitting back in his chair,
amaze and concern in his expression.
“What the devil’s wrong? Your old
man’s got too much money for you
ever to be up against it. Dick, you
couldn’t have gone to the bad?”
A tide of emotion surged over Gale.
How good it was to meet a friend —
someone to whom to talk! He had
never appreciated his loneliness until
that moment.
"George, how I ever drifted down
here I don’t know. I didn’t exactly
quarrel with the governor. But—
d —n it, Dad hurt me—shamed me.
and I dug out for the West. It was
this way. After leaving college I tried
to please him by tackling one thing
after another that he set me to do
On the square, 1 had no head for
business. I made a mess of every
thing. The governor got sore. When
I quit—when I told him straight out
that I was going west to fare for my
self, why, it wouldn’t have been so
tough if he hadn’t laughed at me. He
.•*afd I couldn’t earn a dollar—that I’d
starve out west, and couldn’t get back
home unless I sent to him for money.
He said he didn’t Relieve I could
fight—could really make a fight for
anything under tne sun Oh—he—he
shot it into me all right.”
Dick dropped his head upon his
hands, somewhat ashamed of the
smarting dimness In his eyes.
"Fight!” cried Thorne, hotly.
"What’s ailing him? Didn’t they call
you Biff Gale in college? Dick, you
were one of the beat men Stagg ever
developed.”
“The governor didn’t count foot
ball,” said Dick. "He didn’t mean that
kind of a fight. When I left home I
don’t think I had an idea what was
wrong of me. But, George, I think
I know now. I was a rich man’s son
spoiled, dependent, absolutely Igno
rant of the value of money. I haven’t
yet discovered any earning capacity in
me. I seem to be unable to do any
thing with Thy hands. That* the
trouble. But I’m at the end of my
tether now. And I’m going to punch
cattle or be a miner, or do some real
stunt —like joining the rebels.”
"Aha I I thought you’d spring that
last one on me,” declared Thome,
wagging his head. "Well, you just
forget it. Say, old boy, there’s some
thing doing in Mexico. The United
States in general doesn’t realize It.
But across that line there are crazy
revolutionists, 111-paid soldiers, guer
rilla leaders, raiders, robbers, outlaws,
bandlis galore, starving peons by the
thousand, girls and women !a terror.
Mexico is like some of her volcanoes—
ready to erupt fire and hell! Don’t
make the awful mistake of Joining the
rebel forces. If you didn’t starve or
get shot in ambush, or die of thirst,
some Greaser would knife you in the
back for your belt buckle or boots.
There are a good many Americans
with the rebels eastward toward Agua
Prleta and Juarez. Orozco Is operat
ing in Chihuahua, and I guess he has
some idea of warfare. But this Is So
nora, a mountainous desert, the home
of the slave and the Yaqul. There’s
unorganized revolt everywhere. We’re
patrolling the boundary line. We’re
making a grand bluff. I could tell you
of a dozen Instances where cavalry
should have pursued raiders on the
other side of the line. But we won’t
do it. The officers are a grouchy lot
these days. You see, of course, what
significance would attach to United
States cavalry going Into Mexican ter
ritory. There would simply be hell.
My own colonel is the sorest man on
the job. We’re all sore. It's like sit
thing on a powder magazine. We can’t
keep the rebels and raiders from croon-
ing the line. Yet we don’t fight. My
commission expires soon. I’ll ba dis
charged in three months. You can
bet I’m glad for more reasons than
I’ve mentioned.”
Thorne was evidently laboring un
der strong, suppresseo excitement.
His face showed pale under the tan,
and ills eyes gleamed with a dark fire.
He had seated himself at a table near
one of the doorlike windows leading
into the street, and every little while
he would glance sharply out. Also he
kept consulting his watch.
These details gradually grew upon
Gale as Thorne talked.
"George. It strikes me that you’re
upset,’’ said Dick, presently. "I seem
to remember you as a cool-headed
fellow whom nothing could disturb.
Has the army changed you?”
Thorne laughed. It was a laugh
with a strange, high note. It was
reckless—lt hinted of exaltation. He
peered out one window, then another.
His actions were rapid. Returning to
the table, he put his hands upon it
and leaned over to look closely into
Gale’s face.
“I’m away from camp without
leave,” he said.
“Isn’t that a serious offense?"
asked Dick.
"Serious? For me, If I’m discov
ered, it means ruin. There are rebels
iK*Mr a! fi
"Serious? For Me, ir I'm Discovered
It Means R /in—"
In town. Any moment we might have
trouble. I ought to he ready for duty
—within call. If I’m discovered II
means arrest. That means delay—
the failure of my plans—ruin.”
Thorne bent over closer with hU
dark eyes searchlngly bright.
“What would you say, Dick Gale
If I told you that you're tlie one mar
I'd rather have come along than an.
other at this crisis of my life?"
The earnest gaze, the passionate
voice with Its deep tremor drew Dick
upright, thrilling and eager, conscious
of strange, unfamiliar Impetuosity.
"Thorne, I should say I was glad tw
be the fellow," replied Dick.
Their hands locked for the moment,
and they sat down again with heads
close over the table.
"Listen,” began Thorne, In low,
swift whisper, “a few days, a week
ago—lt seems like a year!—l was of
some assistance to refugees fleeing
from Mexico Into the States. They
were all women, and one of them was
dressed ns a nun. Quito by accident
I snw her face. It was flint of a
beautiful girl. I observed she kept
al 'of from the others. I suspected a
disguise, and, when opportunity as»
forded, spoke to her, offered my serv-
She replied to my poor efforts at
Spanish In fluent English. She had
fled In terror from her home, some
place down In Sinaloa. Bebels ar»
active there. Her father was cap*
tured and held for ransom. When the
ransom was paid tha rebels killed
him. The leader of these rebels was
a bandit named Rojas. Rojas saw
the daughter, made oft with her. But
she contrived to bribe Iter guards, and
escaped almost Immediately before
any harm befell her. She hid among
friends. Rojns nearly tore down the
town In his efforts to And her. Then
she disguised herself and traveled by
horseback, stage and train to Caslta.
"She had no friends here, no money
She knew Rojas was trailing her.
Thia talk I had with her was at the
railroad station, where all was bustle
and confusion. No one noticed us, so
I thought. I advised her to remove
the disguise of a nun before she left
the waiting-room. And I got a boy to
guide her. But he fetched her to thia
house. I had promised to come In
the evening to talk over the situation
with her.
"I found her, Dick, and when I saw
her—l went stark, staring, raving mad
over her. She la the most beautiful,
wonderful girl I ever saw. Her name
Is Mercedes Castaneda, and she be
longs to one of the old wealthy Spun
Ish families. She has lived abroad
and In Havana. She speaks French
as well as English, she Is—but 1
mutt be brief.
“Dear lady, Rojaa will hound
you no more tonight, nor for
many nlghts."-
<TO BBS CONTINUED.)
What Wive. Know.
“Expe:ience teaches u wife that ths
more she agrees with her husband, na
mutter how big a fool he Is, tbe bettss
she gets on," said a woman ba an Ung
-lab police court.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1922.
I Indian
| Lodge Tales
By
1 Ford C. Frick
n iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiitiin
THE LEGEND .OF FATHER
SUN
XX7HEN the Navajos came up out
’ of the world of twilight into the
world of sunshine and light they were
very happy, and with one accord they
fell on their knees and made sacrifice
to the Father Sun who brightened the
heavens and made the world warm
and comfortable for the tribesmen.
When they had b" ome settled in
their new world and had bullded their
homes and made their fires, then they
planted their crops in order that they
might live In comfort. Round about
them they planted golden maize, and
grain and many foods. Their flocks
they took into the green fields to eat
of the grass, and their horses and
their cattle they turned loose to roam
In the beautiful valley where they had
come.
But as the days went on tbe crops
failed, and the grass turned brown
and tbe streams dried up and the
Navajos were much perturbed, for
they knexv not what to do. For the
sun, sweeping through the sky, had
come close to earth, and the heat,
which at first had seemed pleasant,
became unbearable —and even the
tribesmen themselves were made sick
by the brightness of Its rays. Many
there were among the tribesmen who
wished themselves back in the world
of twilight, but the road had been
closed and only a great mountain re
mained to mark where the roadway
had been.
As the summer came on many of
the tribesmen became nick unto death,
for the heat was terrific —but there
was no place to go and no place to
turn, for all the world was a vast
desert, burned by the rays of the
Father Sun.
As matters became worse and
worse the tribesmen became desperate
and finally, one day, called a great
council of the chief and the head
men and the witch doctors. For ten
days and ten nights these men sat in
solemn conclave to determine what
best might be done to relieve their
oppressed people.
Finally, nt the end of the ten days
and die ten nights they called the
tribe together, and the whole tribe,
even the women and the children,
went to the top of a high hill and
there they built altars and offered up
sacrifices, and prayed to the Father
Sun that he might move hack Into
the heaven so his rays would not be
so hot
When they had prayed for a long
time then the Father Sun sent down
to them a teaser god from the sky,
and the lesser god came up to tlie
chiefs and the medicine men an-.i told
them that the sun had heard their
prayer.
"And so long as you remain faith
ful to the Father Sun, who provides
you with heat and with light, so long
wfff he protect you,” the messenger
said. “And when another day comes
then will the sun move back in the
heavens and the grass will grow green,
and water will flow through the
streams, and flowers will bloom, and
the land will be a land of happiness
and prosperity for the Navajos.”
When he had finished speaking the
messenger disappeared In a great
cloud and the people marveled much
and fell on their faces and gave
thanks.
When another day came it was as
the messenger had said, for the sun
had moved back into the sky, and the
air was cool and the trees grew leaves
and the corn sprouted and flowers
bloomed and the world was a world of
happiness.
So it has been to this day. And
the sun Who Is the father who pro
tects the Navajos, has ever warmed
the earth with his rayr and caused
the corn to grow and the flowers to
bloom.
Nor have the Navajos forgotten the
promise they made many years ago,
on the great hilltop, when the world
was young. Each morning when they
arise they face toward the east and
give thanks to the Father Sun who
gives them warmth and light, and each
night they face toward the west and
give thanks for the day that has gone.
Here in our village, if you will look,
you will see that every house faces
the east and each morning we are
awakened by the early rays of the
sun which come in through the doors
and the windows—for that is ns It
should be, and even as it was prom
tsed by the great chiefs ages and ages
ago when tbe Navajos came out of the
world of twilight. Into the world of
sunshine and light.
Note—To this day the Navajo tribes
es Arizona and New Mexico continue
to build their houses facing the east
Even in the large villages the homes
are built on one side of the street
only, In order that the time-honored
tradition may not be broken.
The Clever Fly.
The housefly Is the cleverest of ln
sects, its intelligence far surpassing
that of the ant and the bee. A re
cent world-wide authority asserts that
It can think 100 tlmce more quickly
than a man.