CACTUS AND MEXICANS
They now came upon bare, wind-swept
plains, which alternated with blazing heat and bitter
cold. Once they nearly perished in a Norther,
which drove down upon them with sheets of hail.
Fortunately their serapes were very thick and large,
and they found additional shelter among some ragged
and mournful yucca trees. But they were much shaken
by the experience, and they rested an entire day by
the banks of a shallow little brook.
“Oh, for a horse, two horses!”
said Obed. “I’d give all our castles
in Spain for two noble Barbary steeds to take us swiftly
o’er the plain.”
“I think we’ll keep on walking,”
said Ned.
“At any rate, we’re good
walkers. We must be the very best walkers in
the world judging from the way we’ve footed it
since we left the castle of San Juan de Ulua.”
They refilled their water bottles,
despite the muddiness of the stream, and went on for
three or four days over the plain, having nothing for
scenery save the sandy ridges, the ragged yuccas, dwarfed
and ugly mesquite bushes, and the deformed cactus.
It was an ugly enough country by day,
but, by night, it had a sort of weird charm.
The moonlight gave soft tints to the earth. Now
and then the wind would pick up the sand and carry
it away in whirling gusts. The wind itself had
a voice that was almost human and it played many notes.
Lean and hungry wolves now appeared and howled mournfully,
but were afraid to attack that terrible creature,
man.
They saw sheep herders several times,
but the herders invariably disappeared over the horizon
with great speed. Neither Ned nor Obed meant
them any harm, and they would have liked to exchange
a few words with human beings.
“They think of course that we’re
brigands,” said Obed. “It’s
what anybody would take us for. Evil looks corrupt
good intentions.”
The next day Obed was lucky enough
to shoot an antelope, and they had fresh food.
It was a fine fat buck, and they jerked and dried the
remainder of the body in the sun, taking a long rest
at the same time. Obed was continually restraining
Ned’s eagerness to hurry on.
“The race is to the swift if
he doesn’t break down,” he said, “but
you’ve got to guard mighty well against breaking
down. I think we’re going to enter a terrible
long stretch of dry country, and we want our muscles
to be tough and our wind to be good.”
Obed was partially right in his prediction
as they passed for three days through an absolutely
sterile region. It was not sandy, however, but
the soil was hard and baked like a stone. Then
they saw on their left high but bare and desolate
mountains, and soon they came to a little river of
clear water, apparently flowing down from the range.
The stream was not over twenty feet wide and two feet
deep, but its appearance was inexpressibly grateful
to both. They sat down on its banks and looked
at each other.
“Ned,” said Obed, “how
much dust of the desert do you think I am carrying
upon me? Let your answer be without prejudice.
Friendship in this case must not stand in the way
of truth.”
“Do you mean by weight or by area?”
“Both.”
“Answering by guess I should
say about three square yards, or about three pounds.
Wouldn’t you say about the same for me?”
“Just about the same. I
should say, too, that we carry at least twelve or
fifteen kinds of dirt. It is well soaked in our
hair and also in our clothes, and, as we may not get
another good chance for a bath in a month, we’d
better use our opportunity.”
They reveled in the cool waters.
They also washed out all their clothing, including
their serapes, and let the garments dry in the sun.
It was the most luxurious stop that they had made and
they enjoyed it to the full. Ned, scouting a
little distance up the stream, shot a fine fat deer
among the bushes, and that night they had a feast of
tender steaks. Obed had obtained flint and steel
at the Indian village, at which they had seen the
fandango, and he could light a fire with them, a most
difficult thing to do. Their fire was of dried
cactus, burning rapidly, but it lasted long enough
for their cooking. After the heartiest meal that
they had eaten in a long time, they stretched out by
the river, listening to its pleasant flow. The
remainder of the deer they had hung high in the branches
of a myrtle oak about forty yards away.
“We haven’t got our horses,”
said Obed, “but we’re making progress.
Time and tide will carry man with them if he’s
ready with his boat.”
“Perhaps we’ve been lucky,
too,” said Ned, “in passing through what
is mostly a wilderness.”
“That’s so. The desert
is a hard road, but in our case it keeps enemies away.”
They were lying on their serapes,
the waters sang softly, the night was dark but very
cool and pleasant, and they were happy. But Ned
suddenly saw something that made him reach out and
touch his companion.
“Look!” he whispered, pointing a finger.
They saw a dark figure creep on noiseless
feet toward the tree, from a bough of which hung their
deer. It was only a shadow in the night, but
they knew that it was a cougar, drawn by the savor
of the deer.
“Don’t shoot,” whispered
Obed. “He can’t get our meat, but
we’ll watch him try.”
They lay quite still and enjoyed the
joke. The cougar sprang again and again, making
mighty exertions, but always the rich food swung just
out of his reach. Once or twice his nose nearly
touched it, but the two or three inches of gulf which
he could never surmount were as much as two or three
miles. He invariably fell back snarling, and he
became so absorbed in the hopeless quest that there
was no chance of his noticing the man and boy who
lay not far away.
The humor of it appealed strongly
to Ned and Obed. The cougar, after so many vain
leaps, lay on the ground for a while panting.
Then he ran up the tree, and as far out on the bough
as he dared. He reached delicately with a forefoot,
but he could not touch the strips of bark with which
the body was tied. Then he lay flat upon the bough
and snarled again and again.
“That’s a good punishment
for a rascally thief,” whispered Obed. “I
don’t blame him for trying to get something to
eat, but it’s our deer. Let him go away
and do his own hunting.”
The cougar came back down the tree,
but his descent was made with less spirit than his
ascent. Nevertheless he made another try at the
jumping. Ned saw, however, that he did not do
as well as before. He never came within six inches
of the deer now. At last he lay flat again on
the ground and panted, staying there a full five minutes.
When he got up he made one final and futile jump,
and then sneaked away, exhausted and ashamed.
“Now, Ned,” said Obed,
“since the comedy is over I think we can safely
go to sleep.”
“Especially as we know our deer is safe,”
said Ned.
Both slept soundly throughout the
remainder of the night. Toward morning the cougar
came back and looked longingly at the body of the deer
hanging from the bough of the tree. He thought
once or twice of leaping for it again, but there was
a shift of the wind and he caught the human odor from
the two beings who lay forty yards away. He was
a large and strong beast of prey, but this odor frightened
him, and he slunk off among the trees, not to return.
Ned and Obed stayed two days beside
the little river, taking a complete rest, bathing
frequently in the fresh waters, and curing as much
of the deer as possible for their journey. Then,
rather heavily loaded, they started anew, always going
northward through a sad and rough land. Now they
entered another bare and sterile region of vast extent,
walking for five days, without seeing a single trace
of surface water. Had it not been for their capacious
water bottles they would have perished, and, even
with their aid, it was only by the strictest economy
that they lived. The evaporation from the heat
was so great that after a mouthful or two of water
they were invariably as thirsty as ever, inside of
five minutes.
They passed from this desert into
a wide, dry valley between bare mountains, and entered
a great cactus forest, one of the most wonderful things
that either of them had ever seen. The ground
was almost level, but it was hard and baked.
Apparently no more rain fell here than in the genuine
desert of shifting sand, and there was not a drop of
surface water. Ned, when he first saw the mass
of green, took it for a forest of trees, such as one
sees in the North, but so great was his interest that
he was not disappointed, when he saw that it was the
giant cactus.
The strange forest extended many miles.
The stems of the cactus rose to a height of sixty
feet or more, with a diameter often reaching two feet.
Sometimes the stems had no branches, but, in case they
did, the branches grew out at right angles from the
main stem, and then curving abruptly upward continued
their growth parallel to the parent stock.
The stems of these huge plants were
divided into eighteen or twenty ribs, within which
at intervals of an inch or so were buds, with cushions,
yellow and thick, from which grew six or seven large,
and many smaller spines.
Most of the cactus trees were gorgeous
with flowers, ranging from a deep rich crimson through
rose and pink to a creamy white.
The green of the plants and the delicate
colors of the flowers were wonderfully soothing to
the two who had come from the bare and burning desert.
There their eyes had ached with the heat and glare.
They had longed for shade as men had longed of old
for the shadow of a rock in a weary land. In
truth they found little shade in the cactus forest,
but the green produced the illusion of it. They
expected to find flowing or standing water, but they
went on for many miles and the soil remained hard
and baked, as it can bake only in the rainless regions
of high plateaus.
They found the forest to be fully
thirty miles in length and several miles in width.
Everywhere the giant cactus predominated, and on its
eastern border they found two Indian men and several
women and children gathering the fruit, from which
they made an excellent preserve. The Indians
were short in stature and very dark. All started
to run when they saw the white man and boy, both armed
with rifles, approaching, but Ned and Obed held up
their hands as a sign of amity and, after some hesitation,
they stopped. They spoke a dialect which neither
Ned nor Obed could understand, but by signs they made
a treaty of peace.
They slept that night by the fire
of their new friends and the next day they were fortunate
enough to shoot a deer, the greater part of which
they gave to the Indians. The older of the men
then guided them out of the forest at the northern
end, and indicated as nearly as he could, by the same
sign language, the course they should pursue in order
to reach Texas. They had gone too far to the
west, and by coming back toward the east they would
save distance, as well as pass through a better country.
Then he gravely bade them farewell and went back to
his people.
Ned and Obed now crossed a low but
rugged range of mountains, and came into good country
where they were compelled to spend a large part of
their time, escaping observation. It was only
the troubled state of the people and the extreme division
of sentiment among them that saved the two from capture.
But they obtained news that filled both with joy.
Fighting had occurred in Texas, but no great Mexican
army had yet gone into the north.
Becoming bold now from long immunity
and trusting to their Mexican address and knowledge
of Spanish and its Mexican variants, they turned into
the main road and pursued their journey at a good pace.
They were untroubled the first day but on the second
day they saw a cloud of dust behind them.
“Sheep being driven to market,” said Obed.
“I don’t know,”
replied Ned, looking back. “That cloud of
dust is at least a mile away, but it seems to me I
saw it give out a flash or two.”
“What kind of a flash do you mean?”
“Bright, like silver or steel. There, see
it!”
“Yes, I see it now, and I think you know what
makes it, Ned.”
“I should say that it is the
sun striking on the steel heads of long lances.”
“So should I, and I say also
that those lances are carried by Mexican cavalrymen
bound for Texas. It may not be a bad guess either
that this is the vanguard of the army of Cos.
I infer from the volume of dust that it is a considerable
force.”
“Therefore it is wise for us
to leave the road and hide as best we can.”
“Correctly spoken. The
truth needs no bush. It walks without talking.”
They turned aside at once, and entered
a field of Indian corn, where they hoped to pass quietly
out of sight, but some of the lancers came on very
fast and noticed the dusty figures at the far edge
of the field. Many of the Mexicans were skilled
and suspicious borderers, and the haste with which
the two were departing seemed suspicious to them.
Ned and Obed heard loud and repeated
shouts to halt, but pretending not to hear passed
out of the field and entered a stretch of thin forest
beyond.
“We must not stop,” said
Obed. “Being regular soldiers they will
surely discover, if they overtake us, that we are
not Mexicans, and two or three lance thrusts would
probably be the end of us. Now that we are among
these trees we’ll run for it.”
A shout came from the lancers in the
corn field as soon as they saw the two break into
a run. Ned heard it, and he felt as the fox must
feel when the hounds give tongue. Tremors shook
him, but his long and silent mental training came
to his aid. His will strengthened his body and
he and Obed ran rapidly. Nor did they run without
purpose. Both instinctively looked for the roughest
part of the land and the thickest stretches of forest.
Only there could they hope to escape the lancers who
were thundering after them.
Ned more than once wished to use his
rifle, but he always restrained the impulse, and Obed
glanced at him approvingly. He seemed to know
what was passing in the boy’s mind.
“Our bullets would be wasted
now, even if we brought down a lancer or two,”
he said, “so we’ll just save ’em
until we’re cornered—if we are.
Then they will tell. Look, here are thorn bushes!
Come this way.”
They ran among the bushes which reached
out and took little bits of their clothing as they
passed. But they rejoiced in the fact. Horses
could never be driven into that dense, thorny growth,
and they might evade pursuers on foot. The thorn
thicket did not last very long, however. They
passed out of it and came into rough ground with a
general trend upward. Both were panting now and
their faces were wet with perspiration. The breath
was dry and hot and the heart constricted painfully.
They heard behind them the noise of the pursuit, spread
now over a wide area.
“If only these hills continue
to rise and to rise fast,” gasped Obed White,
“we may get away among the rocks and bushes.”
There was a rapid tread of hoofs,
and two lancers, with their long weapons leveled,
galloped straight at them. Obed leaped to one
side, but Ned, so startled that he lost command of
himself, stopped and stood still. He saw one
of the men bearing down upon him, the steel of the
lance head glittering in the sunlight, and instinctively
he closed his eyes. He heard a sharp crack, something
seemed to whistle before his face, and then came a
cry which he knew was the death cry of a man.
He had shut his eyes only for a moment, and when he
opened them he saw the Mexican falling to the ground,
where he lay motionless across his lance. Obed
White stood near, and his rifle yet smoked. Ned
instantly recovered himself, and fired at the second
lancer who, turning about, galloped away with a wound
in his shoulder.
“Come Ned,” cried Obed
White. “There is a time for all things,
and it is time for us to get away from here as fast
as we can.”
He could not be too quick for Ned,
who ran swiftly, avoiding another look at the silent
and motionless figure on the ground. The riderless
horse was crashing about among the trees. From
a point three or four hundred yards behind there came
the sound of much shouting. Ned thought it to
be an outburst of anger caused by the return of the
wounded lancer.
“We stung ’em a little,” he panted.
“We did,” said Obed White.
“Remember that when you go out to slay you may
be slain. But, Ned, we must reload.”
They curved about, and darting into
a thick clump of bushes put fresh charges in their
rifles. Ned was trembling from excitement and
exertion, but his anger was beginning to rise.
There must always come a time when the hunted beast
will turn and rend if it can. Ned had been the
hunted, now he wanted to become the hunter. Obed
and he had beaten off the first attack. There
were plenty more bullets where the other two had come
from, and he was eager to use them. He peered
out of the bushes, his face red, his eyes alight,
his rifle ready for instant use. But Obed placed
one hand on his shoulder:
“Gently, Ned, gently!”
he said. “We can’t fight an entire
Mexican army, but if we slip away to some good position
we can beat off any little band that may find us.”
It was evident that the Mexicans had
lost the trail, for the time being. They were
still seeking the quarry but with much noise and confusion.
A trumpet was blown as if more help were needed.
Officers shouted orders to men, and men shouted to
one another. Several shots were fired, apparently
at imaginary objects in the bushes.
“While they’re running
about and bumping into one another we’ll regain
a little of our lost breath which we’ll need
badly later,” said Obed. “We can
watch from here, and when they begin to approach then
it’s up and away again.”
Those were precious minutes.
The ground was not good for the lancers who usually
advanced in mass, and, after the fall of one man and
the wounding of another, the soldiers on foot were
not very zealous in searching the thickets. The
breathing of the two fugitives became easy and regular
once more. The roofs of their mouths were no longer
hot and dry, and their limbs did not tremble from
excessive exertion. Ned had turned his eyes from
the Mexicans and was examining the country in the
other direction.
“Obed,” he said, “there’s
a low mountain about a mile back of us, and it’s
covered with forest. If we ever reach it we can
get away.”
“Yes—if we reach
it,” said Obed, “and, Ned, we’ll
surely try for it. Ah, there they come in this
direction now!”
A squad of about twenty men was approaching
the thicket rapidly. Ned and Obed sprang up and
made at top speed for the mountain. The soldiers
uttered a shout and began to fire. But they had
only muskets and the bullets did not reach. Ned
and Obed, having rested a full ten minutes, ran fast.
They were now descending the far side of the hill and
meant to cross a slight valley that lay between it
and the mountain. When they were near the center
of this valley they heard the hoofs of horsemen, and
again saw lancers galloping toward them. These
horsemen had gone around the hill, and now the hunt
was in full cry again.
Ned and Obed would have been lost
had not the valley been intersected a little further
on by an arroyo seven or eight feet deep and at least
fifteen feet wide. They scrambled down it, then
up it and continued their flight among the bushes,
while the horsemen, compelled to stop on the bank,
uttered angry and baffled cries.
“The good luck is coming with
the bad,” said Obed. “The foot soldiers
will still follow. They know that we’re
Texans and they want us. Do you see anybody following
us now, Ned?”
“I can see the heads of about
a dozen men above the bushes.”
“Perhaps they are delegated
to finish the work. The whole army of Cos can’t
stop to hunt down two Texans, and when we get on that
mountain, Ned, we may be able to settle with these
fellows on something like fair terms.”
“Let’s spurt a little,” said Ned.
They put on extra steam, but the Mexicans
seemed to have done the same, as presently, appearing
a little nearer, they began to shout or fire.
Ned heard the bullets pattering on the bushes behind
him.
“A hint to the wise is a stitch
in time,” said Obed White. “Those
fellows are getting too noisy. I object to raucous
voices making loud outcries, nor does the sound of
bullets dropping near please me. I shall give
them a hint.”
Wheeling about he fired at the nearest
Mexican. His rifle was a long range weapon and
the man fell with a cry. The others hesitated
and the fugitives increased their speed. Now
they were at the base of the mountain. Now they
were up the slope which was densely clothed with trees
and bushes.
Then they came to a great hollow in
the stone side of the ridge, an indentation eight
or ten feet deep and as many across, while above them
the stone arched over their heads at a height of seventy
or eighty feet.
“We’ll just stay here,”
said Obed White. “You can run and you can
run, but the time comes when you can run no more.
They can’t get at us from overhead, and they
can’t get at us from the sides. As for the
front, I think that you and I, Ned, can hold it against
as many Mexicans as may come.”
“At least we’ll make a
mighty big try,” said Ned, whose courage rose
high at the sight of their natural fort. They
had their backs to the wall, but this wall was of
solid stone, and it also curved around on either side
of them. Moreover, he had a chance to regain his
breath which was once more coming in hot and painful
gasps from his chest.
“Let’s lie down, Ned,”
said Obed, “and pull up that log in front of
this.”
Near them lay the stem of an oak that
had fallen years before. All the boughs had decayed
and were gone, so it was not a very difficult task
to drag the log in front of them, forming a kind of
bar across the alcove. As it was fully a foot
in diameter it formed an excellent fortification behind
which they lay with their rifles ready. It was
indeed a miniature fort, the best that a wilderness
could furnish at a moment’s notice, and the
fighting spirit of the two rose fast. If the enemy
came on they were ready to give him a welcome.
But the two heard nothing in the dense
forest in front of them. The pursuers evidently
were aware of the place, in which they had taken refuge,
and knew the need of cautious approach. Mexicans
do not lack bravery, but both Obed and Ned were sure
there would be a long delay.
“I think that all we’ve
got to do for the present,” said Obed, “is
to watch the woods in front of us, and see that none
of them sneaks up near enough for a good shot.”
Nearly an hour passed, and they neither
saw nor heard anything in the forest. Then there
was a rushing sound, a tremendous impact in front of
them and something huge bounded and bounded again among
the bushes. It was a great rock that had been
rolled over the cliff above, in the hope that it would
fall upon them, but the arch of stone over their heads
was too deep. It struck fully five feet in front
of them. Both were startled, although they knew
that they were safe, and involuntarily they drew back.
“More will come,” said
Obed. “Just as one swallow does not make
a summer, one stone does not make a flight. Ah,
there it is now!”
They heard that same rushing sound
through the air, and a bowlder weighing at least half
a ton struck in front of their log. It did not
bound away like the first, but being so much heavier
buried half its weight in the earth and lay there.
Obed chuckled and regarded the big stone with an approving
look.
“It’s an ill stone that
doesn’t fall to somebody’s good,”
he said. “That big fellow is squarely in
the path of anybody who advances to attack us, and
adds materially to our breastwork. If they’ll
only drop a few more they’ll make an impregnable
fortification for us.”
The third came as he spoke, but being
a light one rolled away. The fourth was also
light, and alighting on the big one bounded back into
the alcove, striking just between Ned and Obed.
It made both jump and shiver, but they knew that it
was a chance not likely to happen again in a hundred
times. The bombardment continued for a quarter
of an hour without any harm to either of the two,
and then the silence came again. Ned and Obed
pushed the rock out of the alcove, leaving it in front
of them and now their niche had a formidable stone
reinforcement.
“They’ll be slipping up
soon to look at our dead bodies,” whispered
Obed, “and between you and me, Ned, I think there
will be a great surprise in Mexico to-day.”
They lay almost flat and put the muzzles
of their rifles across the log. Both, used to
life on the border, where the rifle was a necessity,
were fine shots and they were also keen of eye and
ear. They waited for a while which seemed interminably
long to Ned, but which was not more than a quarter
of an hour, and then he heard a slight movement among
the trees somewhat to their left. He called Obed’s
attention to it and the man nodded:
“I hear it, too,” he whispered.
“Those investigators are cautious, but they’ll
have to come up in front before they can get at us,
and then we can get at them, too. We’ll
just be patient.”
Ned was at least quiet and contained,
although it was impossible to be patient. They
heard the rustling at intervals on their right, then
it changed to their front, and he saw a black head,
covered with a sombrero, peep from behind a tree.
The head came a little farther, disclosing a shoulder,
and Obed White fired. They heard a yell of pain,
and a thrashing among the bushes, but the sound rapidly
moved farther and farther away.
“That fellow was stung badly,”
said Obed White with satisfaction, “and he won’t
come back. I’m glad to see, Ned, that you
held your fire, keeping ready for any other who might
come.”
Ned glowed at the compliment.
He had cocked his rifle, and was ready but he remained
cool, wasting no shot.
“I fancy that they now know
we are here,” said Obed, who loved to talk,
“and that we have not been demolished by the
several tons of rock that they have sent down from
above. A shot to the wise is sufficient.
Keep down, Ned! Keep down!”
From a point sixty or seventy yards
away Mexicans, lying among the trees or in the undergrowth,
suddenly opened a heavy fire upon the rocky fort.
The Mexicans were invisible but jets of smoke arose
in the brush. Bullets thudded on the log or stones,
or upon the stone wall above the two, but both Ned
and Obed were sheltered well and they were not touched.
Nevertheless it was uncomfortable. The impact
of the bullets made an unpleasant sound, and there
was always a chance that one of them might angle off
from the stone and strike a human target. Obed
however was cheerful.
“They’re wasting good
ammunition,” he said. “They’ll
need that later on when they attack the Texans.
After all, Ned, we’re serving a good purpose
when we induce the Mexicans to shoot good powder and
lead here, and not against our people.”
Encouraged by the failure of the besieged
to reply to their fire the Mexicans came closer and
grew somewhat incautious. Ned saw one of them
sheltered but partially by a bush and he fired.
The man uttered a cry and fell. Ned saw the bush
moving and he hoped the man was not slain, but he
never knew.
The volleys from the Mexicans ceased,
and silence came again in the woods. Wisps of
smoke floated here and there among the trees, but a
light wind soon caught them and carried them away.
Ned and Obed, rolling into easier positions, talked
cheerfully.
“I don’t think they’ll
try to rush us,” said Obed. “The Mexicans
are not afraid to charge breastworks, but they’ll
hardly think we two are worth the price they would
have to pay. Perhaps they’ll try to starve
us out.”
“And that they can’t do
because we have provisions for several days.”
“But they don’t know it.
Nor do we want to stay here for several days, Ned.
Texas is calling to us, and we should be traveling
northward instead of lying under a rock besieged by
Mexicans.”
But they were compelled anew to make
heavy drafts upon their patience. The Mexicans
kept quiet a long time. Finally a shot fired from
some high point grazed Ned’s cap, and flattened
against the rock behind him. The boy involuntarily
ducked against the earth. Obed also lay lower.
“Some Mexican must have climbed
a tree,” said the Maine man. “He’s
where he can look over our fortifications and that
gives him an advantage. It also gives him a disadvantage
because it will be harder for him to come down out
of that tree unaided than it was for him to go up in
it. We’ll stick as close as we can under
the log, until he sends in the second shot.”
They waited about ten minutes until
the Mexican fired again. He was in the boughs
of a great oak about fifty yards away, and following
the flash of his weapon they saw his chest and shoulders
as he leaned forward to take aim and pull the trigger.
Obed fired and the soldier dropped to the ground.
There was a noise in the underbrush, as if his comrades
were dragging him away and then the great silence came
again. As Obed reloaded he said grimly:
“I think we’re done with
the tree-climbers. Evil to him who evil does.
They’re cured of that habit.”
It was now mid-afternoon and the sun
was blazing down over the cliffs and forest.
It grew very hot in the alcove. No breath of wind
reached them there, and they began to pant for air.
“I hope night will come soon,” said Ned.
“It will be here before long,”
said Obed, “but something else will arrive first.”
“What is that?”
“Look, there to the right over
the trees. See the dark spot in the sky.
Ned, my boy, a storm is coming and it is for you and
me to say ’let it come.’”
“What will it do for us?”
“Break up the siege, or at least
I think so. Unless it drives directly in our
faces we will be sheltered out here, but the Mexicans
will have no such protection. And, Ned, if you
will listen to one who knows, you will understand
that storms down here can be terrific.”
“Then the more terrific it is the better for
us.”
“Just so. See, Ned, how
that black spot grows! It is a cloud of quite
respectable size. Before long it will cover all
the skies, and you notice too that there is absolutely
no wind.”
“It is so. The stillness
is so great that I feel it. It oppresses me.
It is hard for me to draw my breath.”
“Exactly. I feel just the
same way. The storm is coming fast and it is
going to be a big one. The sun is entirely hidden
already, and the air is growing dark. We’ll
crouch against the wall, Ned, and keep our rifles,
powder and ourselves as dry as possible. There
goes the thunder, growling away, and here’s
the lightning! Whew, but that made me jump!”
An intense flash of lightning burned
across the sky, and showed the forest and hills for
one blazing moment. Then the darkness closed in,
thick and black. The two, wrapped closely in their
serapes, crouched against the stone wall and watched
the storm gather in its full majesty and terror.