The Valiant Runaways [53]
was no sign of even an Indian pueblo.
It was during one of these halts that the boys ejaculated
simultaneously: "The river!"
"No," shouted Roldan, a moment later "it is only a creek."
"Are we lost?" demanded Adan; and even the loud tone had a note of
pained resignation in it.
"No; I think this must be what he meant. Some of the low people say
river for everything but the ocean. It is shallow, and we cannot turn
back. Come."
They rode along the bank until they came to an easy slope, then crossed,
and cantered on. In a very short time the storm was behind them and the
stars burst out, but there was no sign of habitation. They kept on for
an hour longer, hoping for a welcome twinkle below; but not even a
coyote crossed their path. As far as they could see in the starlight
they were on a plain of illimitable reach, bare but for low shrubs whose
kind they could not determine, although once Adan's coat caught on a
prickly surface. The atmosphere was warm and very dry.
Finally Roldan reined in.
"We must rest," he said, "and build a fire, or we shall be stiff to-
morrow. And it is long past the hour for supper."
"The sooner we eat and sleep and dry, the better for me," said Adan.
The boys dismounted and tied their horses to a palm, then looked about
for firewood. There was not a tree to be seen; they had not passed one
since they left the creek. Nor could they see any sign of flint with
which they might set fire to a clump of palms.
Adan, who had been on his knees, suddenly remarked: "There is not a
blade of grass, Roldan. What will the mustangs do?"
"They are eating the palm, perhaps that will do them until to-morrow.
But the poor things must be as hungry as twenty. Come, let us strip,
hang our things up, and run. The water is in my bones."
The boys peeled off the clinging steaming garments and ran up and down
until hunger sent them to the saddle bags. The mayor domo had provided
them abundantly, and once more they looked upon the world with hopeful
eyes.
"But we must sleep," said Roldan, "and it is not going to be easy for
mind or body--if there are rattlers about--with no fire. We must take
it in turns. It is warm; we do not need our clothes--ah!"--for Adan was
snoring.
Roldan was very tired but not sleepy. His brain, indeed, seemed
unusually alert, and he got up after a time and prowled about, pistol in
hand. He had been in solitudes before, solitude of plain and valley and
mountain; but there was something in his present surroundings that
reminded him of nothing he had heard of or seen. It was not only the
intense stillness, unbroken by so much as the flutter of a leaf, nor
even the vast expanse. The place seemed to possess a character of its
own, and its character was sinister and forbidding. Once or twice he had
been in the cemetery of the Mission near his father's rancho, and the
ugly feeling that he stood too close to death came back to him; why, he
could not define. There was no sign of a cross anywhere; but he felt
that he stood in a dead world, nevertheless. Once the ground quivered
beneath his feet, and the horrible idea occurred to him that Southern
California had been swallowed by an earthquake, and that only this
desolation was left.
He went back to his comrade, who slept soundly beside the horses, also
extended and breathing deeply. It was nearly morning when he woke Adan,
so little aptitude had his brain for sleep. But when Adan sat up he fell
asleep almost immediately, and when he awoke the sun was high.
XXII
Roldan raised himself on his elbow and looked about him. Adan was some
quarter of a mile away, approaching him, leading the mustangs. Cleaving
the horizon on four sides was a vast plain. On it was not a tree, nor
even a hut. Here and there were clumps of palms and cacti, as stark as
if cut from pale green stone. At vast intervals were short, isolated
mountains, known in the vernacular as "buttes." On the ground was not
the withered remnant of a blade of grass; but there were many fissures,
and some of
It was during one of these halts that the boys ejaculated
simultaneously: "The river!"
"No," shouted Roldan, a moment later "it is only a creek."
"Are we lost?" demanded Adan; and even the loud tone had a note of
pained resignation in it.
"No; I think this must be what he meant. Some of the low people say
river for everything but the ocean. It is shallow, and we cannot turn
back. Come."
They rode along the bank until they came to an easy slope, then crossed,
and cantered on. In a very short time the storm was behind them and the
stars burst out, but there was no sign of habitation. They kept on for
an hour longer, hoping for a welcome twinkle below; but not even a
coyote crossed their path. As far as they could see in the starlight
they were on a plain of illimitable reach, bare but for low shrubs whose
kind they could not determine, although once Adan's coat caught on a
prickly surface. The atmosphere was warm and very dry.
Finally Roldan reined in.
"We must rest," he said, "and build a fire, or we shall be stiff to-
morrow. And it is long past the hour for supper."
"The sooner we eat and sleep and dry, the better for me," said Adan.
The boys dismounted and tied their horses to a palm, then looked about
for firewood. There was not a tree to be seen; they had not passed one
since they left the creek. Nor could they see any sign of flint with
which they might set fire to a clump of palms.
Adan, who had been on his knees, suddenly remarked: "There is not a
blade of grass, Roldan. What will the mustangs do?"
"They are eating the palm, perhaps that will do them until to-morrow.
But the poor things must be as hungry as twenty. Come, let us strip,
hang our things up, and run. The water is in my bones."
The boys peeled off the clinging steaming garments and ran up and down
until hunger sent them to the saddle bags. The mayor domo had provided
them abundantly, and once more they looked upon the world with hopeful
eyes.
"But we must sleep," said Roldan, "and it is not going to be easy for
mind or body--if there are rattlers about--with no fire. We must take
it in turns. It is warm; we do not need our clothes--ah!"--for Adan was
snoring.
Roldan was very tired but not sleepy. His brain, indeed, seemed
unusually alert, and he got up after a time and prowled about, pistol in
hand. He had been in solitudes before, solitude of plain and valley and
mountain; but there was something in his present surroundings that
reminded him of nothing he had heard of or seen. It was not only the
intense stillness, unbroken by so much as the flutter of a leaf, nor
even the vast expanse. The place seemed to possess a character of its
own, and its character was sinister and forbidding. Once or twice he had
been in the cemetery of the Mission near his father's rancho, and the
ugly feeling that he stood too close to death came back to him; why, he
could not define. There was no sign of a cross anywhere; but he felt
that he stood in a dead world, nevertheless. Once the ground quivered
beneath his feet, and the horrible idea occurred to him that Southern
California had been swallowed by an earthquake, and that only this
desolation was left.
He went back to his comrade, who slept soundly beside the horses, also
extended and breathing deeply. It was nearly morning when he woke Adan,
so little aptitude had his brain for sleep. But when Adan sat up he fell
asleep almost immediately, and when he awoke the sun was high.
XXII
Roldan raised himself on his elbow and looked about him. Adan was some
quarter of a mile away, approaching him, leading the mustangs. Cleaving
the horizon on four sides was a vast plain. On it was not a tree, nor
even a hut. Here and there were clumps of palms and cacti, as stark as
if cut from pale green stone. At vast intervals were short, isolated
mountains, known in the vernacular as "buttes." On the ground was not
the withered remnant of a blade of grass; but there were many fissures,
and some of