The Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 20

"It is just as well I did sit up," I said, "or that old hag might have scalped me. Where is she?"

"Creeping up behind you," replied Jim, "look out."

I turned like a flash, but saw nothing. It was simply Jim's superfluous sense of humor. However, she had disappeared.

"Well, I'm going to finish my siesta," said Jim, turning into his blankets again, but I knew that it was no use; so I sat up the balance of the night.

"Be sure and whistle if you see her old nibs coming again," said Jim.

In a few minutes he was fast asleep. Fortunately it was not so very long before the faint light of dawn showed in the eastern sky and I woke the boys up. It gave me a good deal of pleasure to do so because it did not please them and I had grown tired of being all alone in the world.

"You might let a fellow sleep a little longer," growled Tom.

"You would get hide-bound if I would let you," I said. "I wonder if those Indians have gone, because we can't start until they are out of sight."

"We will go over and look," said Jim, "while Tom gets the breakfast."

Tom growled some more, but he was in a minority. So Jim and I crossed the mesa, and taking to cover, we looked out over the plain. They were just breaking camp and we could hear their voices borne on the wind.

It was an interesting and animated sight as they caught their ponies and took short dashes about the plains, going through different tricks with remarkable celerity.

"They will be well started before we are ready," said Jim as we made our way back to the camp in the village.

"I thought this wind would go down with sunrise, but it whoops it up just the same," I said.

"You can't judge this country by any other," said Jim. "This is certainly a great wind, it just takes you by the seat of your pants and makes you walk Spanish."

"I'm glad you got back this morning," said Tom, "because there has been an awful row in the roof house above here. I think it was the old lady."

"We'll go up and see," said Jim.

So the committee of investigation proceeded up the ladder to find out the source of the trouble. Jim was the first to enter the door. He stopped and looked toward the corner, shaking his head. We could just see a huddled figure.

"She's dead, stone dead," said Jim.

It was true. On a closer view we saw that she sat there, staring with her sightless eyes, seeming to threaten even in death. I could not help but feel that she might spring up at any moment.

"Do you think that we ought to bury her?" asked Tom.

"No, no," Jim shook his head. "The Indians don't bury their dead, and in this dry air she will be kept like a mummy. Come on, it's time we were moving."

We took one more observation and found that the Indians were well on their way to the southeast and could not see us as we came down the trail.

"I'm glad this wind doesn't come from the other way," I said. "It would blow us off."

"You are a bright one," remarked Tom. "If the wind came from the other side, wouldn't the mesa protect us? It could not blow through it, that's sure."

"You just want to argue," I said. "I'm not going to pay any attention to you."

"Wouldn't it be funny if this wind should flatten us into the rock? It almost blows hard enough to. Wouldn't it puzzle these scientific fellars if they should find a living representation of Tommy in the wall of the mesa? They would sure take him for something prehistoric."

"They would probably think you were an aboriginal monkey," replied Tom bitterly.

"I'm going to walk," I said, after we had safely gotten over Jim's bridge of poles. "This is too steep for me."

Jim and Tom followed suit, because it was too hard on the ponies. We made good time going down and were soon on the plain below the mesa.

Taking up our trail we made our way west.

"All aboard for the Colorado River," cried Jim. "No fooling this time."

We had to shout at each other, for the wind was blowing fiercely and the ground between the bunches of gra.s.s was brushed clear as a floor, while the gravel was blown up around the roots of the dwarf bushes.

We jogged along in the teeth of the wind, making our usual time. When we were several miles out from the mesa, I turned and looked to the southeast.

The party of Indians were on a low rise several miles distant as we came out of the shelter of the high plateau. They caught sight of us and we saw a number of braves separate from the main body and gallop out in our direction.

"We'll soon shake them," said Jim, "and not half try."

So we started our ponies on the run and they were feeling decidedly like a sprint. In two miles we pa.s.sed around the corner of a high b.u.t.te, and Jim flung himself off from Piute and ran back to watch the effect on the Indians of our disappearance.

"It's all over," said Jim, waving his hands down, "they've quit."

"I was afraid our horses would get tired going against the wind," said Tom, "but it didn't seem to feaze them."

"You couldn't stop these bronchos with a meat axe," said Jim.

"h.e.l.lo," I said, "the wind has quit as well as the Indians. Don't it seem quiet though?"

It certainly did. It was surprising how quickly the wind had ceased, just as abruptly as it had started in.

Late in the afternoon we came into closer touch with the desert scenery.

We rode over the ridge of a long divide and below us, several miles distant, rose a marvelous outline of red towers and turrets and a great castle ma.s.s rising in the midst; also of the prevailing color.

In the background stood a great mesa, with dark green walls, possibly of sandstone or granite.

"Did you ever see anything like that?" said Jim. "If that had been built by men it could not be more like a castle. Every detail is as sharp and distinct as though it had been carved."

"It doesn't look so much like a castle to me," I said, "but it is more like a big cathedral with those two square towers."

"What coloring!" said Tom. "It's perfectly rich. I never imagined a red like that."

"It will be a good place to camp down there," said Jim.

"How about water?" I asked. "We've got to find some, it's been a throat drying day."

"It looks to me that there is a stream running along the base of those cliffs," remarked Jim.