The Valiant Runaways [20]
sweating from every
pore. Their eyes were closed, they breathed stertorously. The expression
on their heavy faces was beatific.
"Caramba!" exclaimed Adan, as Roldan closed the door, "I am glad they
like it. What a lot of trouble to get clean."
"As they never take a bath, they couldn't get clean any other way; and
besides it rests them after any great exertion--Mission raiding, for
instance--and they also fancy it drags every humour out through the
pores of the skin. They'll be coming out soon. Let us go down to the
creek and wait."
The smoke was ascending upward in straight columns through the still
air, scarcely clouding the brilliant morning, not a wreath wandering
into the aisles of the forest. The sun climbed higher, melting the light
fall of snow, its rays dancing among the silver ripples of the water,
vivifying the many greens about the creek.
The boys amused themselves flinging pebbles at the darting trout and
discussing chances of escape.
"We must not fly too soon," said Roldan, "or we shall run into the
soldiers. Of course they are scouring the country after these robbers."
"This is a good place to hide in until the Mission food gives out; but
I'd prefer even the barracks to living on acorns--Ay, look!"
The door of one of the temascals had opened. A limp figure tottered
forth and down to the bank. He almost fell into the creek, but had
sufficient wit uncooked to rest his head on a projecting stone.
Presently came another, then another, and another, until the bright
rocks were covered with dusky forms, the heads bobbing just above the
surface, supported on stump or stone. The boys barely recognised
Anastacio. Where was that commanding presence, that haughty mien? Bowed
like an old man, blind from smoke, with simmering brain, he reeled into
the water with as little dignity as his creatures.
But in less than an hour all had sprung forth briskly, danced about in
the sun to dry, and started on a run for the pueblo. Roldan and Adan
followed close, knowing that a feast alone would satisfy appetite after
the temascal. And in a little time the smell of roast meat pervaded the
morning, great cakes were roasting. The boys were invited to eat apart
with Anastacio. At the conclusion of the meal the host, who had not
spoken, solemnly poured out three glasses of fire-water. He swallowed
his at a gulp. The boys sipped a few drops, winking rapidly. Then Roldan
thought it time to speak: his chief was visibly thawed.
"What are you keeping us for?" he asked.
"Ransom." Anastacio lit a cigarrito--one of the padre's--and lay back
on a bearskin.
"Do you know why we ran away? To escape the conscription. If you give us
up, all our adventures, our dangers, our escapes, will be as nothing,
and we shall be punished besides."
Anastacio moved his eyes to Roldan's with a flash of interest.
"Good! I hate the government. You shall stay here until the time of
conscription is over. Then I will get a big sack of Mexican dollars, a
herd of cattle, a caponara of horses, and much tobacco and whiskey. Who
are your fathers?"
Roldan explained.
Anastacio flushed under his thick skin. "Good. I will double the
ransom--and the guard."
"The conscription will be over in a few weeks--"
"You could not go before. We too must hide. Of course the soldiers are
behind. I have many scouts watching. Now go to sleep."
The following week was clear and bright, but very cold. The boys, bred
in the warm basin of California, must have suffered had not Anastacio
ordered one of his minions to make them coat and boots from the skin of
the coyote. Every morning the chief drilled his men with the tactics of
a born commander who had let no opportunity for observation escape him.
The military discipline of the pueblo was only relaxed for three hours
in the afternoon, during which time the Indians were given full taste of
the freedom they coveted that they might battle for it the more
passionately when the time came. They gambled, slept, shot game in the
forest, exercised the horses,
pore. Their eyes were closed, they breathed stertorously. The expression
on their heavy faces was beatific.
"Caramba!" exclaimed Adan, as Roldan closed the door, "I am glad they
like it. What a lot of trouble to get clean."
"As they never take a bath, they couldn't get clean any other way; and
besides it rests them after any great exertion--Mission raiding, for
instance--and they also fancy it drags every humour out through the
pores of the skin. They'll be coming out soon. Let us go down to the
creek and wait."
The smoke was ascending upward in straight columns through the still
air, scarcely clouding the brilliant morning, not a wreath wandering
into the aisles of the forest. The sun climbed higher, melting the light
fall of snow, its rays dancing among the silver ripples of the water,
vivifying the many greens about the creek.
The boys amused themselves flinging pebbles at the darting trout and
discussing chances of escape.
"We must not fly too soon," said Roldan, "or we shall run into the
soldiers. Of course they are scouring the country after these robbers."
"This is a good place to hide in until the Mission food gives out; but
I'd prefer even the barracks to living on acorns--Ay, look!"
The door of one of the temascals had opened. A limp figure tottered
forth and down to the bank. He almost fell into the creek, but had
sufficient wit uncooked to rest his head on a projecting stone.
Presently came another, then another, and another, until the bright
rocks were covered with dusky forms, the heads bobbing just above the
surface, supported on stump or stone. The boys barely recognised
Anastacio. Where was that commanding presence, that haughty mien? Bowed
like an old man, blind from smoke, with simmering brain, he reeled into
the water with as little dignity as his creatures.
But in less than an hour all had sprung forth briskly, danced about in
the sun to dry, and started on a run for the pueblo. Roldan and Adan
followed close, knowing that a feast alone would satisfy appetite after
the temascal. And in a little time the smell of roast meat pervaded the
morning, great cakes were roasting. The boys were invited to eat apart
with Anastacio. At the conclusion of the meal the host, who had not
spoken, solemnly poured out three glasses of fire-water. He swallowed
his at a gulp. The boys sipped a few drops, winking rapidly. Then Roldan
thought it time to speak: his chief was visibly thawed.
"What are you keeping us for?" he asked.
"Ransom." Anastacio lit a cigarrito--one of the padre's--and lay back
on a bearskin.
"Do you know why we ran away? To escape the conscription. If you give us
up, all our adventures, our dangers, our escapes, will be as nothing,
and we shall be punished besides."
Anastacio moved his eyes to Roldan's with a flash of interest.
"Good! I hate the government. You shall stay here until the time of
conscription is over. Then I will get a big sack of Mexican dollars, a
herd of cattle, a caponara of horses, and much tobacco and whiskey. Who
are your fathers?"
Roldan explained.
Anastacio flushed under his thick skin. "Good. I will double the
ransom--and the guard."
"The conscription will be over in a few weeks--"
"You could not go before. We too must hide. Of course the soldiers are
behind. I have many scouts watching. Now go to sleep."
The following week was clear and bright, but very cold. The boys, bred
in the warm basin of California, must have suffered had not Anastacio
ordered one of his minions to make them coat and boots from the skin of
the coyote. Every morning the chief drilled his men with the tactics of
a born commander who had let no opportunity for observation escape him.
The military discipline of the pueblo was only relaxed for three hours
in the afternoon, during which time the Indians were given full taste of
the freedom they coveted that they might battle for it the more
passionately when the time came. They gambled, slept, shot game in the
forest, exercised the horses,