6 Marooned

Herbert said nothing of the night’s event, of the coming of the lion and of his going, driven by the fear of human kind, but he felt a pride in himself and his primitive qualities were strengthened by the test, through which he had gone with such success. The mountains and the gorgeous sunlight made a more powerful appeal than ever to him, and through every vein he felt flowing a stronger and more sparkling tide of blood than any that had ever throbbed in his body before.

He had been afraid at first that he would show badly under wild and savage conditions, that he might feel fear, or that he might not know what to do. He wanted to appear well in the eyes of this new comrade of his, who was such an expert in the wilderness, and now that he passed the test his joy was great.

“I think I ought to go down and look for the horse—and the mule,” Charles said. “They must be somewhere in the canyon, as they would not have wandered far in a day or two, and without them we can never get across the desert. Besides, life will not be always so easy here. Winter will be coming, and it is often very severe on the Arizona mountains.”

It seemed impossible to Herbert, with the memory of the hot desert through which they had come, and the knowledge that the heat, too, could gather in the canyon, to associate winter with the serene sunshine of the scene about him, but he said nothing, and when Charles suggested that he stay and guard the house he consented. He also knew a lot of things that he could do while his comrade was gone, and he was quite content to remain.

Charles was not greatly worried about the horse and mule. He might not find them now, but they would certainly remain in the canyon because there alone were grass and water to be found in plenty. Meanwhile he would look for the lost gold, and in good time he would initiate his comrade into the secret. That the gold existed somewhere he did not doubt.

He reached the bottom of the canyon and then glanced upward. On either side the mountains seemed to rise, almost a sheer wall, pathless and grim. The cliff dwellers had chosen well because, from the point at which he stood, their village was almost invisible, and even if the houses were seen it would require more than common boldness to scale the steep cliff in the face of defenders.

But the narrow floor of the canyon itself had a beauty of its own. In the center ran the little stream, clear and cold from the melting snows of the highest mountains, and the pink wild plum trees were numerous. A red tanager now and then darted from bough to bough. Charles thought of trout. They must be found in a mountain river like this, and they would be a delicacy for the table of the two comrades.

Once he came upon traces in the grass which he knew to have been made by hoofs, and he followed them until they stopped at the edge of a wide place in the brook, but he could not find them again. Either the animals had gone a long distance in the stream or had emerged on ground too hard to leave a print visible to his eye.

But he clung to the search, continuing up the canyon until it narrowed perceptibly. The mighty walls moved closer together, sheer cliffs now of black basalt, carved into a thousand fantastic shapes by wind and weather. Charles looked up, and in the light that had grown perceptibly dimmer he saw twisted pine trees, clinging in the crevices of the cliffs, but so far away that they looked like mere bushes. The floor of the canyon, too, was rising, and he surmised that it would soon come to an end, but it went deeper into the mountains than he had supposed. It was a full two hours before he reached the end, where the cliffs came so close together that there was hardly room for the little river, plunging over a fall of two or three hundred feet, to enter it. He might have climbed up beside the fall and have gone deeper among the peaks and ridges, but it was obviously impossible for the horses to have escaped him in such a way, and he had done his full duty so far as that end of the canyon was concerned.

He turned back on his path, and in time passed by the slope that led to the cliff village. He went on down the canyon toward the opening into the desert, and he had no doubt that he should find the horses before he came to the sandy plain. As the great gash in the mountains broadened, and the rays of the sun had a better chance, the heat grew intense. Bushes and trees were thick here, and now and then there were little grassy openings. It was in the latter that he looked for the horses, and at last he caught a glimpse of a dark figure and heard the sound of an animal moving.

He advanced through the bushes, and at that moment the wind shifted a little. The animal threw up his head, he caught the flash of a horn, and then the swift beat of hoofs. A deer! He went on, still intent upon his search, and he became so engrossed in it that he forgot that midday had come. The afternoon advanced and he forgot that, too, but at last he came to the end of the great gorge, and before him stretched the desert, gray and lone, the stretch of it that intervened between these ranges and Old Thundergust. Far out upon it he could see the dancing “dust devils” whirling over the swells and then passing out of sight. But he had not found the horse and mule.

He looked once more at the gray desert, the white gleam of the alkali and the dancing “dust devils” that still troubled the horizon, and then he turned back to the great canyon, and the vast line of purple mountains beyond. How green and fresh the foliage seemed, and how the waters of the stream, when he came once more to it, sparkled in the sunlight! The scene before him, affer the scene behind him, invited with all the intimate delight of home. There was majesty in the great line of purple mountains and the dim white crests beyond, but no terror, and he began with ardor the return journey to the safe alcove in the cliff.

He was surprised to see long shadows falling on the slopes. The pine trees burned yellow in the intense gold of the setting sun, and in the far west the dusk was growing. Absorbed in the search, he forgot that he had spent a whole day without food or rest. Herbert would wonder what had become of him; his good comrade might fear that he had fallen a prey to wild beast or savage, and he doubled his speed. But it was long after the moonlight came out when he reached the path leading to the village. Familiar now with all its windings and inequalities, he ran nearly all the way to the ledge, and presently he beheld Herbert standing there, gazing into the vast gulf of the canyon, now black with the darkness. He was not quite sure how his comrade would take the news of the failure to find the animals. Doubtless one reared as softly as Herbert would want to hurry back to civilization, and now he must wait.

“I must tell you,” he said when he reached the terrace, “that I have failed to discover the horse and mule. I have searched the canyon from end to end, and they are not here. At the north it is shut in by the peaks, and on the south by the desert. Where those horses have gone I do not know, but I do know that we are shipwrecked, and that, for the present, we cannot escape from our isle.” Herbert actually laughed.

“If we cannot go we must stay, which I think is good logic,” he said.

“It certainly is. It would be unwise for us to attempt the trip through the desert on foot. We should almost surely perish, but if we remain here a party seeking you will undoubtedly come in time. When your people are missed the government will send an expedition.”

“Then the safest, as well as the easiest, thing for us to do is to wait. I think it is settled, is it not?”

“Those whom it most concerns seem to agree on the subject.”

“Then will you come to your supper? It has been long waiting for you, and I’m hungry as a bear.”

The two lads went to the place that they had made their dining-room. A cheerful fire was burning, and now that the chill dusk had come its glow was very pleasant. The aroma of cooking food and of good coffee saluted Charles’ nostrils, and he began to feel how very hungry he was.

“It’s fine to come back to this,” he said. “It was a vain journey I took, but at least we know that we did our best.”

“That’s so,” Herbert said, “and don’t you think we should now begin to gather supplies? Suppose we try for the wild turkeys again in the morning?”

“It’s a good idea,” replied Charles. “There’s nothing like being forehanded.”

Much more they talked as they sat there through the supper, and for a while afterward, and their talk was wholly of the present, never of the past, which seemed to have slid so far away. The fire sank down and only the glowing coals remained. The moonlight had gone and it was dark on the mountains. From the great canyon the blackness seemed to roll up in waves. All the cliff houses had sunk long since into the shadows, and in the thick night showed only a single point of fire, on either side of which sat a human figure. They were lost in the immensity of the black void, and the wind moaned like a dirge among the peaks, but they felt neither despair nor fear.

From a point far above them rose a faint, weird cry, inexpressibly mournful and chilling, as it came in the thick darkness down the great gorge.

“Now, what under the sun was that?” exclaimed Herbert.

“The howl of a wolf,” replied Charles.

Then they returned to silence and their steady gazing into the coals, which crumbled and broke apart, and sent up little sparks as they fell. The wind rose and moaned in the canyon, but it conveyed no sense of loneliness or desolation to either. Behind them in the glow of the fire showed faintly the doors of the cliff houses, like openings into the ancient caves of primitive man. On all the continent a more ghostly and uncanny place could scarcely have been found. It was not alone in the wilderness, it was out of the world, mystic and unreal. Here time had not only stood still, the years were rolled back by the tens of thousands. In the sky far above a few stars twinkled, but in the canyon itself there was no ray of light. It was like the vast still world before life came.

As they agreed, the two went early the next morning in search of the wild turkeys, starting when the dawn had not yet fully come on the mountains, and the air was yet chill with the night In addition to a revolver each carried a rifle.

It was only the trace of a path that led from the village to the summit of the hill, but Charles had marked it well on his former journey, and the two climbed boldly, assisted by jutting rocks and dwarf pines. The chill was still in the air, and the west was yet dusky, but in the east great waves of light were rolling up from the gulf behind the mountains.

They hastened, because the day would soon be fully come, and it was important to find their turkeys, while they were yet in the trees, somewhat stiff with the night’s cold. Presently they came out on top of the cliff, and stood there a moment, looking at the mountains, rising terrace on terrace to the north, while, to the south, the earth was lost in a dim gray mist that was the desert. Here as in the gorge there was nothing human but the two lads.

It was a solitary world in the light as well as in the darkness.

“The pine forest in which the turkeys roost is not more than a quarter of a mile ahead,” said Charles, “and I feel sure that we shall find them there. My single shot the other day would not be sufficient to frighten them away permanently.”

Herbert was stepping very gently, and he began to understand the eagerness of the chase. He was breathing the rarefied air of the mountain crest, and he would justify his comrade’s confidence, proving that he could handle a rifle like a veteran.

Before them lay the pine forest, dark green, and yet dusky in the morning shadows, and perched among the branches Charles saw their game, a score or more, their glossy dark blue feathers, showing but faintly among the pines, which looked dark blue, too, in the early half light. He pointed them out to Herbert, and they crept a little nearer.

“Do you think you could hit the fat one in the nearest tree?” he asked.

“I’d like to try.” Herbert replied, his eyes sparkling.

Herbert raised his rifle and fired. The bird fell to the ground, and he uttered a little cry of triumph. Charles quickly fired also, and, as the confused turkeys fluttered among the trees, they secured three more. Then they went forward and picked up their prizes, which were more than trophies, being, in truth, a part of the treasure upon which their lives depended.

“Can’t I shoot?” asked Herbert triumphantly.

“These turkeys say so,” replied Charles.

They were fine, fat birds, and they would last some time. They could dry the meat in the sun, after the manner of jerking buffalo or deer, and add it to their store.

“I think while we’re here together we might explore a little,” said Charles. “We can hang these turkeys to a bough of a tree with a strip of bark, and they’ll be safe until we return.”

Herbert agreed with great readiness. The prospect of exploring new country appealed to him, and the scene about them was grand and romantic to the last degree. From the crest, where they were, their canyon was invisible, and the purple mountain beyond seemed but a continuation of that on which they stood. The white peaks, in a line to the north, were clearer and whiter now, and seemed to stand there, solemn and silent, a part of eternity itself. To the south, Thundergust now being to their left, there was nothing, only the gray swells of the desert rolling ceaselessly away, and from the great height on which they stood, hidden mostly in mists. The country around them had all the aspects of an island, surrounded by an ocean, on which no one ever sailed. But they gave no thought to it then, secure in themselves and their strength.

“I’m thinking that the pines stretch away for miles,” said Charles. “You know, or you don’t know, that the largest forest now standing in the United States is one of pine in Northern Arizona, and we must be in it, or somewhere on the fringe of it.”

It was in many respects a beautiful region that they trod. The pines rose before them in endless vistas, often in avenues, as if they had been planted by man. More than once they came to a cool little pool, or a tiny brook that trickled away, to fall down the steep sides of some gorge or canyon. There was little undergrowth, and the soil was dry beneath their feet. As they walked along, they breathed a wonderful perfume of pine and cedar, and it seemed to them that they could feel their strength grow.

“This would have been a splendid site for the village of the people whose houses we inhabit,” said Herbert.

“So it would have been,” said Charles, “but for one thing, and that was safety—among those old peoples safety came first of all, before comfort, beauty or anything else.”

“Yes, I know. I have felt it, too. Beautiful as it is here, I like the cliff best, at least at times.”

Charles understood—it was the feeling of security that the cliff gave—but he said nothing, and they continued their pleasant journey among the cathedral pines. The ground began to slope a little, and suddenly Charles stopped, seizing Herbert by the arm.

“Look!” he exclaimed.

The earth had opened at their feet, scarcely a foot before them, cleft to an interminable depth, as if by the slash of a mighty sword blade. Holding to a slender pine that grew at the very brink, they looked down, but the gorge was so narrow that they could see no bottom.

“It cannot be more than fifty feet from cliff to cliff at the top here,” said Charles, “but it might as well be a mile. We are absolutely cut off on this side.”

“It seems then that this may be a peninsula,” said Charles, “which merely heightens the wisdom of the cliff dwellers.”

“Yes, they lived in a bird’s nest.”

They turned to the westward and continued their explorations, both as eager and interested as if they had come into the Arizona mountains for that purpose, and no other. They had gone perhaps two miles when Charles stopped suddenly. Herbert, with marvelous quickness and without awaiting any other signal, did the same. His instinct had taken warning at once from his action, and it was his first belief that Charles had seen some foe, perhaps a wandering Apache who had scaled these heights. But he awaited the result with confidence.

“A deer,” whispered Charles. “Lo and behold! Rations on the hoof for many days.”

The deer, a fine buck, was standing among the pines some distance away. It was a long shot, but Charles was afraid to risk creeping closer lest the wind should carry the human odor and with it the alarm. But he wanted this deer, foreseeing that they must provide well against a possible lean time. All the primal instincts of precaution were alive in him, too. It seemed to him a matter of course that they should spend months in the canyon, the remainder of the hot season, the winter and whatever followed, and it was their duty to arrange for it. Hence he stole forward with the skill in trailing that he was now rapidly acquiring, and, with a good shot, slew the deer.

They now ceased their explorations in order to dress the body, and both were exultant. Their provisions had experienced a great increase, and since they had found one deer on the mountain they were likely to find more. Here was a splendid source of food supply, and, castaways as they were, they had ample cause for joy.

The day was waning when the task was finished, and then, bearing the body of the deer between them, they returned through the pine woods toward the canyon. It was a matter of extreme difficulty to carry their venison down the steep path to the shelf in the canyon, but Herbert, agile of body and sure of foot, and learning fast, gave much help. At last they reached home in triumph with their great prize. There they hung it securely to a bough of one of the trees that grew in the clefts, and then they lighted their fire, happy in the day’s good work.

That night the mountain lion, drawn by a tempting odor, that tickled his nostrils and that made him terribly hungry, again crept down the mountainside to the cliff dwellings. There he saw the rich food hanging from the tree, but that other and strange odor, the odor of human beings that he dreaded, came to his nostrils also, and, with longing looks backward at the body of the deer, he retreated once more from the shelf, climbing to the plateau and hiding himself in the pine forest. A troublesome equation had come lately into the life of this mountain lion who had long made free of an entire village, and he felt a puzzled sense of injustice. But the new occupants of the village slept peacefully. Affairs were going well with them. Now came days of work and absorption, work to develop their home, and absorption in the details. Herbert, the eastern lad, continually found new resources within himself. His mind became more acute, and his fingers understood how to achieve. He learned in a few hours to do physical tasks of which he had not thought himself capable, and he found every day a fresh interest and zest in the singular life that he and his comrade were leading. His very youth was in a way a help to him, as it made him forget. The dreadful scene in the valley was fading fast from his mind. George Carleton had been a harsh and unloved relative, and the pain of his death could not endure.

One day while his comrade was down in the canyon it occurred to Herbert to climb the plateau in search of wild turkeys. The turkey, whether wild or domestic, had been an important factor in the life of the cliff dweller, and in a wild state this great bird was now of equal value to them.

Herbert ascended the path now become familiar to the top of the cliff, and stood once more at the edge, where he could look upon the vast panorama of mountain, forest and turquoise sky, with the gray mist of the desert, hanging like a threat, low down on the horizon in the south. He had become very strong and very agile, but after the climb he was shorter of breath than usual, and he remained for a while at the crest, taking deep inhalations. He did not know that his weariness was due chiefly to an increasing warmth, of a close, suffocating quality that made the air lay very heavy upon the lungs. Yet there was a conspiracy against him, a conspiracy of mountains and sky and the spirit of the wilderness, and it was already at work. Far down the gray desert, so lone and bare, waves of burning air were rolling northward against the black basaltic wall of the mountain. Some broke there, but others surmounted the heights, to roll on over the plateau against the line of white peaks farther to the north where the cold air and the hot air met. Amid the deepest of the gorges and canyons a little wind was making a faint moan, but it did not reach the ears of the lad, whose mind was set only upon the task for which he had come.

Herbert entered the pine forest, but the turkeys were gone from the cluster of trees in which they were in the habit of taking their rest, frightened at last perhaps by the ravages of the marksmen, and he went on farther and farther in search of them. He was chagrined that his search had been fruitless; it hurt his pride to return empty-handed, and he persevered. Absorbed thus in the chase he did not notice that he had gone a long distance upon the plateau, leaving all landmarks behind, and coming into strange, new, broken country, covered with a tangled growth of dwarfed bushes. Here he paused, and for the first time began to look about him with some apprehension. There was a distinctly alien feeling in the atmosphere. The restless winds, which blew usually among the pine trees and the bushes, were quiet on the mountains. The hot, close air enveloped him, and there was a tinge of duskiness in the skies.

The spirit of the wilderness was abroad in a new phase. The conspiracy of earth, air and sky against him was well developed, and he was to be subjected to the last test. The moan of the wind among the far northern gorges grew, and rose now and then to a whistle, the hot air from the desert still rose up in waves, and met the chill air from the white peaks, great clouds formed and floated back from the peaks over the plateau.

But the winds that moaned in the gorges did not yet reach the summit, upon which Herbert stood. The bushes and scant grass were still lifeless, the heavy air remained breathless and still. He was stricken with an impending sense of danger. The primal instincts which had served to strengthen him also served now to warn him. For a moment or two he shivered instinctively with dread. The spirit of the wilderness, with its silence, its growing darkness and its hot, vaporous breath, like a dragon’s, made a formidable threat which he understood. The conspiracy against him was well advanced.

He looked about with a full apprehension of his peril, and while the primal instinct that gave warning remained, the primal strength that would defend was there, too.

The voices of the wilderness now began to speak aloud and to menace him. The wind in the canyon and the gorges rose to a shriek, and it kept up, too, a weird moaning among the pine woods. Down from the north came the low, sullen mutter of distant thunder. Flickering lightning played over the pines and cedars, and tinged them, for the moment, with a weird, ghostly whiteness. But when the lightning was not present the whole world was in a brown shadow, which made all things ugly and repellent.

Inherited instincts now peopled the pine forest with vague, terrible forms, huge beasts of the early day that sought him, but he strengthened his will and refused to be afraid. The hot air suddenly gave way to the chill atmosphere, driven southward by the cold waves from the white peaks. Blast after blast was blown across the forest, and the boughs of the pines and cedars were whirled before them. Now and then a tree went down with a great crash, the lightning blazed in stroke after stroke, so vivid that Herbert, with involuntary motion, shielded his eyes with his hands. The thunder maintained an unceasing roar, and the canyons and the gorges took up its echoes.

Herbert, in all his life, had never conceived anything so terrifying. Nature was turned loose upon him, and he was the very center of its most powerful manifestation. He trudged on through the alternate light and darkness, and presently he noticed that the flashes of lightning came farther apart, and that the thunder began to sink. Then the clouds opened and let fall a deluge.

He was afraid that he would be swept away, he seemed to be immersed in a sea, and he heard the water roaring in torrents down the little ravine on the plateau. He stopped running, and, seizing some of the short bushes, clung to them, as one would clutch a rock to fight a sweeping tide. He was wet and cold, but he was conscious of a great pride in his strength and endurance. The storm could not beat him down. He clung to his bushes, and now he was neither weak nor afraid.

Far to the north the elements which had made this scene were now working to drive it away. The torrents of cold air ceased to blow down from the peaks, and the peaks themselves, white, calm and majestic, emerged from the clouds and mists. The shrieking in the canyons and gorges turned to a moan, and from a moan to a whisper. The clouds, empty now, floated away, mere mist and vapor, to be lost over the burning desert. Broad bands of light appeared at the zenith, and the world came out of the darkness and gloom. Earth, mountains and sky were now wholly propitious.

Herbert took it as a personal triumph and calmly traced his way back to the cliff village, the sun drying his clothes as he went. He found Charles in a state of great alarm about him, but Herbert dismissed the affair as nothing. He had passed a severe test, and he felt now that he was a genuine son of the wilderness.

The two together made another search of the ravine for the horse and mule, but discovered no trace of them. It was Charles’ opinion that they had wandered into some smaller ravine, opening into the great one, and would reappear later on. He knew too much about their habits to believe that they were gone permanently.

Meanwhile he and Herbert continued the equipment of their house. They shot more of the wild turkeys and dried their flesh in the sun. They saved the feathers also, thinking they would find some future use for them, and on the plateau above the village they shot two more deer. They dried the meat and they tanned the skins also, rather crudely, it is true, but in a way that was satisfactory to both. Charles foresaw a time when they might need deerskin for clothing.

They had just finished the task of tanning the last deerskin, and were sitting luxuriously on the terrace. The chill of evening was coming on, and the fire had been lighted—they were still doing their cooking out of doors. The great canyon was turning from blue to black as the dusk filled it.

Charles leaned back and drew a long sigh of content. Then he said to his partner:

“Herbert, old fellow, you’ve never asked me what I’m doing up here.”

“I think you said once that you were looking for gold.”

“But I don’t seem to be looking very much, do I?”

Herbert smiled.

“You saved my life,” he said. “What right have I to be prying into your business?”

“Well, I am looking for gold, but not just in the way you think. Rather, I should say, we are looking for it. You’re my partner—oh, yes you are! I ought to have had one in the beginning. I was foolish to come out alone, and I’ve been luckier than I deserved. We’re looking for gold, not for a mine, but for a lost treasure.”

“A lost treasure!” exclaimed Herbert, his eyes opening wide in interest and excitement.

“Yes, a lost treasure, an old Spanish treasure. As we’re to be partners in this, half and half, share and share alike, you ought to know everything that I know about it, which is none too much.”

Then he told the story of Ananias Brown and his last words. Herbert listened eagerly, his eyes shining at the words “gold,” “Old Thundergust” and “behind the veil.” His was a romantic soul, and it appealed to him.

“Of course, it’s true!” he exclaimed. “There is a lost treasure, and it’s somewhere hereabouts. The big white-headed mountain down there is Old Thundergust, that’s sure. Now we’re bound to stay here until we find that treasure, Charlie, and I want to help in the hunt I don’t care anything about the gold. You can take it all.”

Charles smiled tolerantly.

“What kind of a partner would I be,” he said, “to let you share the work and then for me to take all the gold for myself? No, sir, it’s share and share alike. That’s agreed’.”

“All right, partner, if you want it that way,” said Herbert.

Herbert did not sleep well that night. He dreamed repeatedly about a great store of gold, and a man, with black scars in his palms, who beckoned him on. But he concealed his impatience the next morning, because his comrade thought they should continue to stock themselves up with food and other supplies for the coming winter.

Charles himself decided to catch some trout. The little river, probably never fished in before by a white man, furnished an unusually fine variety, and whenever they wanted an especial delicacy for their table they resorted to it. He had put reel, lines and hooks in his pack for such needs, and now he went down to the river, fully equipped.

He strolled along the bank toward the fall, looking down into the clear rushing water. It was a beautiful, cold stream, coming down from mountain snows, and he could see the trout of a delicate golden tint, darting here and there. But further up was a deep pool between steep rocky sides, where the bigger fish were likely to lie, and he would not drop his line until he reached it, because he wanted the best.

The pool was wide and on the shady side, where he thought the fish were likely now to be, the cliff rose steep and high. But he believed that he could climb down it, along the rugged side, at least halfway, and then throw in the hook.

At the second step on the slippery stone face of the cliff Charles slipped. He dropped his fishing tackle, which struck with a splash in the water below, and grasped at a jutting crag. He seized the crag, but his head struck another spur of the rock with force, and stars twinkled before his eyes. He was almost stunned, and the strength was driven out of him for the time being. Yet he hung to the crag, although he knew that he was growing weaker, and must soon drop down below to drown. His eyes were dim, and the terrible thought that he was about to leave the bright world overwhelmed him.

“Jest you sink your fingers into that stun for a spell, my boy, an’ we’ll save you!” said a voice, and a long, tanned face looked over the cliff’s rim.

“Only hold on a half minute longer and you’ll be out of danger,” said another voice, and a second face, beside the first, looked over the cliff’s rim. It was a large head and face, but mostly hidden by an enormous pith helmet, and a pair of huge gold glasses.

The two voices and the two faces pulled Charles Wayne back to earth. His hands closed more tightly on the stony crag, and then something whirred over his head. He felt a light loose coil drop down around his shoulders and suddenly tighten.

“Right and tight she is,” sung out the first voice, “an’ there’s no fall fur you, my boy. Now, Purfessor, a long pull an’ a strong pull all together. Yo-ho, yo-ho an’ Nancy Lee the sailor’s wife is she!”

Charles was lifted bodily into the air. His head was still ringing, and the darkness was yet before him, but as he swung outward from the cliff he felt that he was in powerful and friendly hands. Upward he went slowly but steadily, and then he was drawn over the edge of the cliff and to safety.

“Now, Jedediah, lift up his head while I pour a little of this whisky into him! And it’s our young friend, Mr. Charles Wayne! Well! Well! Well! What an odd meeting! And what a lucky one for you! You’ve got a bad bruise on the head, but there’s no damage done. Ah, that’s good! Color coming back and strength with it. Yes, it’s your humble servant, Erasmus Darwin Longworth, and Jedediah Simpson, who is not humble at all.”

“Jedediah Simpson o’ Lexin’ton, K—y, an’ terrible glad to see you.”

Charles opened his eyes and sat up. The little man and the long man were looking at him anxiously and kindly, and he joyfully seized a hand of each.

“How did you come here?” he exclaimed.

“How did we come here?” replied Jed mournfully. “We came here a-whoopin’ an a-humpin’ at the head o’ a lot o’ Apaches, an’ it wa’n’t no church procession, either, I can tell you! It drove all the music quite out o’ my breast!”

Despite himself Charles laughed at Jed’s lugubrious countenance.

“We were in the edge of the desert,” added Professor Longworth, “when we were attacked by Apaches. Fortunately they were on foot, while we were mounted and we managed to shake them off, but we lost ourselves in the mountains, and we’ve been wandering around for days. We heard you cry out, an involuntary cry, when you fell, and here we are.”

“Luckily for me,” said Charles gratefully, “because you’ve saved my life a second time, Professor, and now I must take you up to the house of myself and my partner, Herbert Carleton.”

“You live here!” exclaimed the Professor in surprise.

“Oh, yes,” replied Charles, who was delighted at meeting Jed and Professor Longworth again, “I’m gold prospecting, and my partner and I have an excellent stone house. We live in a village only a short distance away. It is true that the village was built a thousand years or more ago, but the architects and workmen were so good that it serves well now.”

The Professor’s eyes snapped.

“Ah, I know,” he exclaimed, “it’s one of the villages of the lost cliff dwellers.”

“Just so,” said Charles, “and I should like for you and Jed to be the guests of my partner and myself there at once.”

“In a house of your own, built by somebody one or two thousand years ago,” said Jedediah Simpson. “Now, that is mighty cur’ous an’ interestin’. I ’low I want to see it.”

“And so do I,” said the Professor.

“You are both very welcome,” said Charles earnestly. Even if they had not come at that most opportune of all moments, the moment to save his life, he would have been glad to see them. He had begun to have a feeling that Herbert and he might be threatened at any time by great dangers, and that they needed more strength.

“This way,” he said to the Professor and Jed, and he led the way down the ravine. First they looked for his fishing tackle, which was of all the greater value because it could not be replaced, and were lucky enough to find it at the edge of the stream, caught on an overhanging bush. Then they went to the terrace, and, as they ascended the path worn out by the old cliff dwellers, Jed spoke up with admiration:

“Now, this is mighty cur’ous an’ interestin’,” he said, using his favorite expression. “Me an’ the Purfessor have been in a heap o’ strange places, but this does beat all. ’Pears to me like we were stuck on top o’ a mountainous islan’ and were kings o’ everything. From the center all around to the sea you are lord o’ the fowl an’ the brute, only I don’t see no fowl, though brutes there are I know.”

“And fowls, too,” said Charles. “Plenty of them on top of the mountain. Wild turkeys, big, fat, fine fellows, Jed, and, oh, so tender and juicy!”

“Um! um!” said Jed appreciatively. “This does grow mighty cur’ous an’ interestin’. Certain! Shore!”

The Professor stopped, when near the terrace and looked out over the vast expanse of mountain and forest, wonderfully vivid in the limpid, golden sunshine.

“One of the earth’s wonder regions,” he said—“this huge plateau of the southwest. I have traveled in many lands, and it is a great joy to me to have come here.”

Charles could see his eyes shining behind his great glasses, and he himself felt the exultation of the moment. They were four now instead of two, and he was sure that they would be equal to any task.

“Where did you leave your animals, Professor?” he asked.

“They are tethered in the ravine. They will be safe until we return.”

Charles intended to give Herbert a surprise, and he said to Jedediah Simpson:

“Jed, can you sing ‘Home, Sweet Home’?”

“Me?” exclaimed Jed eagerly, “I sing it most beautiful, and I’ll sing it fur you right now ef you’ll make the Purfessor promise not to pull a gun.”

“It’s for a special reason,” said Charles, turning to the Professor. “I want to give my partner a surprise.”

“Then I’ll promise not to shoot,” said the Professor, sighing.

Jedediah Simpson lifted up a baritone voice, not really, bad, but wholly uncultivated, and began to sing the old, old song. At the second line Charles joined in with his own youthful baritone, and the canyon gave back the two voices in a mellow echo. Charles led the way, and as his head rose over the terrace he saw an amazed figure coming forward to meet them. It was Herbert, rifle in hand.

“Don’t shoot, Herbert, we’re doing our best,” he called. “The Professor has already promised not to do so, and it would be a great breach of hospitality for you to send a bullet at us. These good friends of mine are merely helping me to celebrate my return home.”

Herbert’s eyes opened wider and wider, as he saw the long figure of Jedediah Simpson and then the little one of Professor Erasmus Darwin Longworth, surmounted by an enormous head, the head in turn surmounted by a pith helmet, yet more enormous.

“Before us, gentlemen,” said Charles, “lies the Château de Carleton, the Castle of Wayne, and other splendid châteaux and castles. All are at your service. Herbert, these are some old friends of mine, come to pay us a visit at our summer residence. Mr. Herbert Carleton, Professor Erasmus Darwin Longworth of everywhere and Mr. Jedediah Simpson of Lexin’ton, K—y. Herbert, is luncheon ready? I hope that the ortolan and the humming-bird tongues are just right, because Mr. Simpson is very particular about his diet, not to say being a bit of an epicure.”

“Me!” said Jed. “I don’t know what ortylans are, an’ I never heard o’ anybody eatin’ hummin’-birds. I ain’t finicky at all! I could eat the toughest steak that wuz ever carried about on four feet by a twenty-year-old steer an’ never whimper.”

“Right you are, Jed,” said Charles, laughing. In fact, he was in such high spirits that he had to bubble over.

The Professor stepped forward and shook hands heartily with Herbert, his keen eyes behind his huge glasses taking him in to the last detail. He knew instantly that here was one who had been, until a few weeks ago, a tenderfoot, but who was now one no more. And he welcomed the second boy as he had welcomed the first, to his good graces. Jed and Herbert also shook hands with ready comradeship.

“We particularly pride ourselves on the view from the front lawn of our summer residence,” continued Charles. “We may have rivals, Professor, but I really don’t believe that anybody could beat it.”

Jedediah Simpson o’ Lexin’ton, K—y, looked outward, then downward, then upward.

“No, they can’t,” he said with emphasis. “Me an’ the Purfcssor have been in many strange lands an’ we have laid our eyes on many strange scenes, but this I think is the beatin’est o’ them all. It seems to me, Charlie, that you do have air in plenty, an’ the neighbors ain’t crowd-in’ you.”

The Professor was looking about him with eyes that sparkled behind his great glasses.

“An exceedingly interesting place,” he said. “Ideal for the cliff dwellers who probably lived here a thousand years, and who might be here to-day had not raging Apaches or Utes discovered them, and driven them out. You young gentlemen were very lucky indeed to have found this village.”

“So we think, Professor,” said Charles earnestly.

“Because, being gold prospectors, as you told me,” continued the Professor, “you are, of course, up here for a long stay, and, when winter comes, immense snows fall in these high mountains, and lie long.”

“We’ll defy them,” said Herbert.

Then the two lads led the way to their house, and proudly showed the interior to the Professor and Jed, who made many favorable comments. After that they gave them venison and wild turkey on the terrace, which both ate heartily.

“How is the great search coming on, Professor?” asked Charles. “Have you yet been able to prove that the mountains of Northern Arizona are the oldest land above ground?”

The Professor shook his head sadly.

“The question remains in abeyance, not to say in doubt,” he replied. “I was on the trail of rock formation that might have settled it one way or the other forever, when our own trail was discovered by the Apaches. It was then a question of saving our scalps.”

Jed felt of his long thick locks.

“An’ me with the finest head o’ hair that was ever growed in Lexin’ton, K—y! To think o’ its hangin’ inside the dirty lodge o’ some dirty Apache, a-smokin’ an’ a-dryin’. Me an’ the Purfessor couldn’t bear the thought o’ it. So we just hopped onto our mules an’ skedaddled, leavin’ them rock formations to rest in peace for a few more million years.”

“Why not stay with us a while,” said Charles earnestly. “In union there is strength. That’s the motto of your State, Jed, and it’s a good one. This village, Professor, affords a great subject for your investigations, and I know that Jed needs rest.”

Charles had already said a few words aside to Herbert about his plan, and Herbert thoroughly approved.

“And you two lads can really endure us, that is, we will not be in your way?” asked the Professor.

“We’ll be glad to have you,” said Charles, and Herbert nodded his head emphatically.

“Then we’ll stay,” said the Professor. “As you say, in union there is strength, and while you are of great service to us, we may also be of some help to you. The Apaches may come into this canyon at any time, and if there should be a fight four are better than two.”

That had been Charles’ own thought, and he added: “We must stick together.”

After the refreshments, the four went down in the canyon to the alcove, in which the animals were tethered. The Professor had four mules, two horses and a splendid lot of supplies, including compressed food, canned goods, great quantities of cartridges, blankets, medicines, fine scientific instruments, a pair of powerful field glasses and many other things, the nature of which he did not disclose at the time. It took several trips to carry all these articles to the lost village, but when it was done they turned the animals loose. The Professor was sure, as Charles had been about his own, that they never could wander from the canyon, and, when they really needed them, they would find all in one herd. Everything was not completed until the next day, when a second house was swept and cleaned for the Professor and Jedediah Simpson o’ Lexin’ton, K—y. Then Charles told the story of Ananias Brown.

“Now, Professor,” he said, “will you and Jed join us in this search? There is likely to be great danger, and while four of us may find the gold and get out with it I don’t think two ever could. You see, Professor, we need you and Jed.”

“I am a scientific man,” said the Professor, “and this appeals to me as a sporting proposition. I’ve never bothered about wealth, although I inherited enough to enable me to follow unprofitable, but highly interesting and important, pursuits. Speaking for myself, and because I think we really can be of service, I shall join you, although I do not undertake to compel Jed here.”

“Me!” exclaimed Jed. “Me need compellin’! An’ me from Lexin’ton, K—y, an’ me not a sport! Well, I guess yes! I’m signin’ up with you, Charlie an’ Herb, right away, an’ I see myself a mighty rich man inside o’ six months. Then I’m goin’ to move over to the swell side o’ Lexin’ton, K—y, right in the middle o’ the big bugs an’ the blue-bloods. I know a place on the outskirts that I want, big, red brick house with three hundred acres o’ the finest blue grass, runnin’ back from it into the country. An’ when I go up into the middle o’ the town I won’t walk neither, nor take no street car neither, I’ll drive behind two bays o’ the finest blood, in one o’ them high-seated vehicles, an’ that thar vehicle will be painted red, not any o’ your shy, retreatin’ reds that ain’t quite a red, but a gorgeous, dazzlin’ red, a red that’ll make the sun wink an’ blink, all except the wheels, which I think I’ll have bright yellow or gold like the gold I’m goin’ to find, or mebbe green. Say, Herb, would you have them wheels yellow or green?”

“Yellow by all means,” replied Herbert. “I think red and yellow go better together than red and green.”

“She’s settled!” exclaimed Jed enthusiastically. “Yellow them wheels will shorely be, because Herb here is an eddicated boy o’ taste! Me! I see myself already the bright partic’lar ornament to Lexin’ton, K—y. Some long breaths will be drawed when I drive up the middle o’ the town!”

Professor Erasmus Darwin Longworth took off his glasses, and his near-sighted blue eyes were sparkling.

“I find myself sharing Jedediah’s enthusiasm,” he said, “and if we find this gold I, too, shall make a dream come true, one for which my means hitherto have not been sufficient. I know of a buried city in Babylonia, one that has not yet come to the knowledge of any other American or European, and I shall excavate it. It goes far back of the Babylonians, to the time of the Sumerians and perhaps back of them. I shall uncover archaeological discoveries of enormous importance. I shall be a benefactor of the world, and all by my own unaided efforts.”

“We’ll find the gold,” said Charles in sanguine tones.

“It’s as good as found already,” said Herbert.

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