Daughter of the Sun, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  INDICATING THAT THAT WHICH APPEARS THE EARTHLY PARADISE MAY PROVE QUITE ANOTHER SORT OF PLACE

  A strip of white beach three hundred feet long, a score of paces acrossat its widest, with black barren cliffs guarding it and the faint pinkdawn slowly growing a deeper rose over it, such was the port ofadventure into which nosed the row boat bringing Jim Kendric and TwistyBarlow treasure seeking. In the stern crouched Nigger Ben, come ashorein order to row the boat back to the _New Moon_, his eyes bulging withwonderment that men should come all the way from San Diego to disembarkupon so solitary a spot. The dingey shoved its nose into the sand,Kendric and Barlow carrying their small packs and rifles sprang out,Nigger Ben shook his head and pushed off again.

  "Up the cliffs the easiest way," cried Barlow, his eyes shining withexcitement. "Up there I'll get my bearin's and we'll steer astraight-string line for what's ahead, Headlong, old mate! Step livelyis the word now while it's cool. And by noon, if we're in luck----"

  He left the rest to any man's imagination and hastened across the sandand to the rock wall. But more forbidding than ever rose the cliffsagainst the path of men who did not know their every crevice, and itwas full day and the sun was up before they came panting to the top.Down went packs, with two heaving-chested, bright-eyed men atop ofthem, while Barlow, compass in hand, got his bearings.

  The devil's own he had named this country from afar; the devil's own itextended itself, naked and dry and desolate before their questing eyes,a weary land, sun-smitten, broken, looking deserted of God and man. Asfar as they could see there were no trees, little growth of any kind,no birds, no grazing beasts. Just swell after swell of arid lands,here and there cut by ancient gorges, tumbled over by heaps of blackrocks, swept clean of dust on the high places by racing winds, piledhigh with sand and small stones in the depressions. Where growingthings thrust up their heads, they were the harsh, fanged and envenomedgrowth of desert places. The place had an air of unholiness in thelight of the new day. A thorn, as Barlow turned carelessly, tore theskin on the back of his hand painfully. The parent stem had an evillook and he cursed it as though it had been a conscious malign agent,and struck at it with his clubbed rifle. From the place where thebranch was wrenched away exuded a slow red sticky ooze like coagulatingblood.

  "There's our course," announced Barlow, pointing, "with half a dozenhours of damned unpleasant walking, according to poor old Juarez. Seethose three peaks, standing up together? We bear a little off to thesouth for a spell and then straight toward 'em. And never a springuntil we get there! Look out you don't poke a hole in your canteen."

  "Ready," said Jim. "Let's go."

  They went on. Now that a new phase had come into their quest, with thedays of distant speculation giving place to action on the ground, acertain difference of character was manifest in the two men. A growingtaciturnity, accompanied by deep frowning thoughtfulness, lockedBarlow's lips, while Kendric, to whom any such experience was alwaysprimarily a lark, expanded and mounted steadily to fresh stages oflightheartedness. It mattered less to him than to his companion whatmight lie at the end of their journey; the journey itself was with JimKendric the golden thing. He felt alive, jubilant, keenly in sympathywith the lure and zest of the expedition. He felt like singing, wouldno doubt have sung out in some wild border ballad or bit of deep seamelody with a piratical swing to it, had he not been half the timefairly breathless from the pace they maintained over the broken country.

  In a couple of hours they left behind them the worst of the gorges andcanons, flinty peaks and ridges, and dropped down into a long crookedvalley floored with dry sand ankle deep and grown over with a grayshrub plainly akin to California sage brush. Here was some scantevidence of animal life, a dusty jack rabbit, a circling buzzard, athin spotted snake, a wild pony with up-flung head staring at them fromthe further ridge, gone whisking away as they drew on. And they cameto trees whose shade was grateful, oaks and, later, a few dustystraggling pinons. Wisps of dry grass, an occasional patch offlowering weeds or taller plants, a flock of bewildered-looking birdsthat had the appearance of having strayed hitherward by mistake. Nowater, no sign of water; no man-owned herds, no sign of man. The openvalley under the high, hot sun was a drearier place than the mountainslopes.

  Then came the up-hill climb as they passed out of the western edge ofthe sandy flats, a steep spur of the Cordillera, a region silent andsaturnine and unthinkably hot. Three times, though they guardedagainst profligacy with their water, they unstoppered their canteensand rested in the shade on the way up. At last they came to the crestof the barrier of the blistering hills, having been on foot for a fullfive hours. And now, for the first time, looking forward, down thesteep slopes and across the miles, they saw the Valley of Las Flores,the place of flowers. At first it was hard for them to believe thattheir eyes, which the desert lands befool so often and so readily, hadnot tricked them. It was as though in a twinkling the world hadchanged about them.

  The long wide valley below was one sweep of green: fresh, colorful,cool green. Across it wandered many cows and horses and donkeys,browsing where the herbiage was lushest, dozing in the shade of thewide-spread oaks, standing indolent in the golden sunshine. A brightstream of water cut the emerald sward in two, coming from the borderingmountains at one end, gone flashing into the mountain-guarded pass atthe other. From a distance Kendric heard a bird singing away like madand saw the sweep and flutter of a butterfly's wing.

  "The earthly paradise!" he cried admiringly.

  But already Barlow's fixed eyes were upon the mountainous countryacross the valley.

  "Come on," he said, slipping his pack-straps over his shoulders andswinging up his rifle. "It would be three to five miles, easy going,and we're there! There are our three peaks, straight across."

  Only when they were fairly down on the floor of the valley did they seethe ranch houses. There were several, a big, rambling adobe withwhite-washed walls, barns and smaller outbuildings, all making asizeable group. They stood in an oak grove at the opposite side of thevalley, close to the common bases of Barlow's peaks. The two menstopped and looked, reflecting.

  "Neighbors," said Kendric. "They'll be wanting to know what we'reabout, pottering around on the rim of their holding."

  "It's anybody's land over there," growled Barlow. "They'd best keepout of it."

  They pushed on across the fields, noting casually how they were allleveled and ditched for irrigation, and came at last to the creek wherethey rested under an oak and drank deeply and smoked. As they rose togo on they saw four horsemen bearing down upon them from the directionof the ranch houses.

  "_Vacqueros_," said Barlow. "They'll be wantin' to know if we're lost."

  "They look more like brigands than cow men," grunted Kendric. "Everyman jack of them wears a rifle. And they're in a rush, Twisty, oldmate. What will you bet they don't herd us back where we came from?"

  "Let 'em try it on," Barlow shot back at him, his eyes narrowing on theoncoming riders. "I'm goin' to roll up in my blanket under those threepeaks tonight if the whole Mexican army shows up."

  The two Americans stopped and stood ready to ease their shoulders outof their packs and start pumping lead if the newcomers turned out to behalf the desperadoes they appeared. "The way to argue with these sortof gents," said Barlow contemptuously, "is shoot their eyes out firstand talk next." But as the foremost of the little cavalcade drew up infront of them, with his three followers curbing their horses a fewpaces in his rear, the fellow's greeting was amazingly hospitable.

  "_Buenas dias, amigos_," he called to them. But, though he hailed themin the name of friendship, his eyes were sullen and gave the lie to hisspeech. "You would be fatigued with walking across the cursed desert;you would be parched with thirst. Yonder," and he pointed toward thedistant white walls, "is coolness and pleasant welcome awaiting you."

  His followers were out-and-out ragamuffins, wild-looking fellows withtheir unshaven cheeks a
nd tangled hair and fierce eyes. Theirspokesman stood apart in appearance as well as in position, beingsomewhat extravagantly dressed, showing much ornamentation both on hisown person and that of his mount in the way of silver buckles andspangles. He was the youngest of the crowd, not over twenty-two orthree from the look of him, with a nicely groomed black mustache. Thehorse under him was a superb creature, a great savage fiery-eyed sorrelstallion.

  "Thanks," returned Barlow. "But my friend and I are on our way overthere." He pointed. "We are students of entymology and are studyin'certain new butterflies." All along, until the very moment, he hadfully intended explaining by saying they were on a hunting trip. Butas he spoke it struck him that the slopes about his three peaks wouldnot harbor a jack rabbit, and furthermore on the instant a big goldenbutterfly went flapping by him, putting the idea into his head.

  The young Mexican nodded but insisted.

  "There will be time for butterfly catching tomorrow," he saidcarelessly. "Today you will honor us by riding back to the HaciendaMontezuma. You are expected, senores; everything is prepared for you._Oyez_, Pedro, Juanito," turning in his saddle and addressing two ofhis men. "Rope two horses and let _los Americanos_ have yours." Andwhen both Pedro and Juanito frowned and hesitated, his eyes flashed andhe cried out angrily at them: "_Pronto_! It is commanded!"

  They rode away toward a herd of horses half a mile down the valley,their riatas soon in their hands and widening and swinging into greatloops. Presently they were back, leading two captured ponies.Dismounting, they made impromptu hackamores of their ropes and mountedbareback, leaving their own saddles empty for Kendric and Barlow.

  "Look here, _amigo_," said Kendric then. "We're much obliged for thekind invitation. But you've got the wrong guests. If your outfit wasexpecting newcomers it was someone else."

  The Mexican lifted his fine black brows.

  "Then are you not Senores Kendric and Barlow?" he asked impudently.

  They stared wonderingly at him, then at each other.

  "You're some little guesser, stranger," grunted Barlow. "Who told youall you know?"

  "Go easy, Twisty," laughed Kendric, his interest caught. Affably, tothe Mexican, he said: "You're right, senor. And, to complete theintroductions, would you mind telling us who you are?"

  "I?" He touched up his mustache and again his eyes flashed;involuntarily, as he spoke his name, he laid his hand on the grip ofthe revolver bumping at his hip, giving the perfectly correctimpression that the man who wore that name must ever stand ready todefend himself: "I am Fernando Escobar, at your service for what youplease, senor!"

  Never a muscle of either Kendric's face or Barlow's twitched at theinformation though inwardly each man started. Before now, many timesin the flood of their tumultous lives, they had lived through momentswhen the thing to do was control all outward expression of emotion andthink fast.

  "I'd say, Twisty," said Kendric lightly, "that it is downright kind ofSenor Escobar to extend so hearty an invitation. It would be thepleasant thing to rest up in the shade during the afternoon. Tomorrow,perhaps, it could be arranged that he would let us have a couple ofhorses to make our little trip into the hills butterfly-catching?"

  But Barlow, fingering his forelock, looked anything but pleased. Hiseyes went swiftly to the three peaks across the valley, then frowningup the valley to the ranch houses. Obviously, he meant to go straightabout his business, all the more eager to come to grips with the nakedsituation since Escobar was on the ground and had made himself known.He opened his lips to speak. On the instant Kendric saw a swift,subtle change in his eyes, a look of surprise and of uncertainty. Andthen, abruptly, Barlow said:

  "Oh, all right. I'm tired hoofin' it, anyway," and swung up into thesaddle on the nearest horse, pack and all.

  Escobar wheeled his horse, as though glad to have his errand done, androde back toward the upper end of the valley, his ragged followingclose at his heels, Kendric and Barlow bringing up the rear.

  "What was it, Twisty?" demanded Kendric softly. "What did you see?What made you change your mind all of a sudden."

  "Look at the cordillera just back of the ranch house, Jim," answeredBarlow, guardedly.

  Kendric looked and in a moment understood Barlow's perplexity. Thereagain were three upstanding peaks, much in general outline and heightlike those across the valley. For the life of him Barlow did not knowwhich was the group toward which he had been directed by Juarez tosteer his course. Doubtless Escobar did know. And if Escobar weregoing up valley, it would be just as well to go with him.

  As they drew near the big adobe house both men were interested. Thebuilding had once upon a time, perhaps two or three hundreds of yearsago, been a Spanish mission; so much was told eloquently by the linesof high adobe walls ringing the buildings and by the architecture ofthe main building itself. There were columns, arches, corridors afterthe old mission style. But it had all been made over, added to, sothat it was now a residence of a score or more of rooms. It spread outcovering the entire top of a knoll whereon were many large oaks. Atthe back, rising sharply, was the barren slope of the mountain.

  Their gaze was drawn suddenly from the house itself to a rider dartingout through the high arched gateway in the adobe wall. A beautifulhorse, snowy, glistening white, groomed to the last hair, an animal offine thin racing forelegs proudly lifted and high-flung head, shot outof the shadows like a shaft of sunlight. On its back what at firstappeared an elegantly dressed young man, a youth even fastidiously andfancifully accoutered, with riding boots that shone and a flauntingwhite plume and red lined cape floating wildly. Only when theapproaching rider came close and threw up a gauntleted hand to the wideblack hat, saluting laughingly, did they recognize this for the sameyouth who had come with Ruiz Rios to Ortega's gambling house.

  "Zoraida Castelmar!" gasped Kendric.

  Turning in his amazement to his companion he caught a strange look inBarlow's eyes, a strange flush in Barlow's cheeks. Then he saw onlythe girl's dark, passionate face and scarlet lips and burning eyes asshe called softly:

  "Welcome to the Hacienda Montezuma! The gods have willed that youcome. The gods and I!"

  And into Kendric's bewildered face, ignoring Barlow, she laughedtriumphantly.