The Scalp Hunters Part 44

"Pourquoi, Barney? pecause, mon ami, I help pack les possibles of Monsieur le docteur. Pardieu! he would me suspect."

"I don't see the raison clear. He may suspect ye at all evints. How thin?"

"Ah! then, n'importe. I sall make von grand swear. No! I sall have ver clear conscience then."

"Be the powers! we must get the licker anyhow; av you won't, Misther Gowdey, I will; that's said, isn't it?"

"Oui! Tres bien!"

"Well, thin, now or niver's the time. The ould fellow's just walked out, for I saw him meself. This is a nate place to drink it in. Come an' show me where he keeps it; and, by Saint Patrick! I'm yer man to hook it."

"Tres bien! allons! Monsieur Barney, allons!"

Unintelligible as this conversation may appear, I understood every word of it. The naturalist had brought among his packs a small keg of aguardiente, mezcal spirits, for the purpose of preserving any new species of the lizard or snake tribe he should chance to fall in with.

What I heard, then, was neither more or less than a plot to steal the keg and its contents!

My first impulse was to leap up and stop them in their design, as well as administer a salutary rebuke to my voyageur and his red-haired companion; but a moment's reflection convinced me that they could be better punished in another way. I would leave them to punish themselves.

I remembered that some days previous to our reaching the Ojo de Vaca, the doctor had captured a snake of the adder kind, two or three species of lizards, and a hideous-looking animal, called, in hunter phraseology, the horned frog: the _agama cornuta_ of Texas and Mexico. These he had immersed in the spirit for preservation. I had observed him do so, and it was evident that neither my Frenchman nor the Irishman had any idea of this. I adopted the resolution, therefore, to let them drink a full b.u.mper of the "pickle" before I should interfere.

Knowing that they would soon return, I remained where I was.

I had not long to wait upon them. In a few minutes they came up, Barney carrying what I knew to be the devoted keg.

They sat down close to where I lay, and prising out the bung, filled the liquor into their tin cups, and commenced imbibing.

A drouthier pair of mortals could not have been found anywhere; and at the first draught, each emptied his cup to the bottom!

"It has a quare taste, hasn't it?" said Barney, after he had taken the vessel from his lips.

"Oui! c'est vrai, monsieur!"

"What dev ye think it is?"

"Je ne sais quoi. It smells like one--one--"

"Is it fish, ye mane?"

"Oui! like one feesh: un bouquet tres bizarre Fichtro!"

"I suppose it's something that the Mexicans have drapped in to give the agwardenty a flayver. It's mighty strong anyhow. It's nothing the worse av that; but it 'ud be sorry drinkin' alongside a nate dimmyjan of Irish patyeen. Och! mother av Moses! but that's the raal bayvaridge!"

Here the Irishman shook his head to express with more emphasis his admiration of the native whisky.

"Well, Misther Gowdey," continued he, "whisky's whisky at any rate; and if we can't get the b.u.t.ther, it's no raison we should refuse the brid; so I'll thank ye for another small thrifle out of the kig," and the speaker held out his tin vessel to be replenished.

G.o.de lifted the keg, and emptied more of its contents into their cups.

"Mon Dieu! what is dis in my cops?" exclaimed he, after a draught.

"Fwhat is it? Let me see. That! Be me sowl! that's a quare-looking crayter anyhow."

"Sac-r-r-re! it is von Texan! von fr-r-og! Dat is de feesh we smell stink. Owah--ah--ah!"

"Oh! holy mother! if here isn't another in moine! By jabers! it's a scorpion lizard! Hoach--wach--wach!"

"Ow--ah--ah--ack--ack! Mon Dieu! Oach--ach--! Sac-r! O--ach--ach-- o--oa--a--ach!"

"Tare-an-ages! He--ach! the owld doctor has--oach--ack--ack! Blessed Vargin! Ha--he--hoh--ack! Poison! poison!"

And the brace of revellers went staggering over the azotea, delivering their stomachs, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. in extreme terror as the thought struck them that there might be poison in the pickle.

I had risen to my feet, and was enjoying the joke in loud laughter.

This and the exclamations of the men brought a crowd of hunters up to the roof, who, as soon as they perceived what had happened, joined in, and made the ruin ring with their wild peals.

The doctor, who had come up among the rest, was not so well satisfied with the occurrence. After a short search, however, the lizards were found and returned to the keg, which still contained enough of the spirit for his purposes. It was not likely to be disturbed again, even by the thirstiest hunter in the band.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE PHANTOM CITY.

On the morning of the fourth day our spies came in, and reported that the Navajoes had taken the southern trail.

They had returned to the spring on the second day after our leaving it, and thence had followed the guiding of the arrows. It was Dacoma's band, in all about three hundred warriors.

Nothing remained for us now but to pack up as quickly as possible, and pursue our march to the north.

In an hour we were in our saddles, and following the rocky banks of the San Pedro.

A long day's journey brought us to the desolate valley of the Gila, upon whose waters we encamped for the night. We slept near the celebrated ruins, the second resting-place of the migrating Aztecs.

With the exception of the botanist, the Coco chief, myself, and perhaps Seguin, no one in the band seemed to trouble himself about these interesting antiquities. The sign of grizzly bears, that was discovered upon the mud bottom, gave the hunters far more concern than the broken pottery and its painted hieroglyphics. Two of these animals were discovered near the camp, and a fierce battle ensued, in which one of the Mexicans nearly lost his life, escaping only after most of the skin had been clawed from his head and neck. The bears themselves were killed, and made part of our suppers.

Our next day's march lay up the Gila, to the mouth of the San Carlos river, where we again halted for the night. The San Carlos runs in from the north; and Seguin had resolved to travel up this stream for a hundred miles or so, and afterwards strike eastward to the country of the Navajoes.

When this determination was made known, a spirit of discontent showed itself among the men, and mutinous whisperings were heard on all sides.

Shortly after we halted, however, several of them strayed up the banks of the stream, and gathered some grains of gold out of its bed.

Indications of the precious metal, the quixa, known among the Mexicans as the "gold mother," were also found among the rocks. There were miners in the band, who knew it well, and this served to satisfy them.

There was no more talk of keeping on to the Prieto. Perhaps the San Carlos might prove equally rich. Rumour had also given it the t.i.tle of a "golden river"; at all events, the expedition must cross the head waters of the Prieto in its journey eastward; and this prospect had the effect of quieting the mutineers, at least for the time.

There was another influence: the character of Seguin. There was no single individual in the band who cared to cross him on slight grounds.

They knew him too well for that; and though few of these men set high value on their lives, when they believe themselves, according to "mountain law," in the right, yet they knew that to delay the expedition for the purpose of gathering gold was neither according to their compact with him nor agreeable to his wishes. Not a few of the band, moreover, were actuated by motives similar to those felt by Seguin himself, and these were equally desirous of pushing on to the Navajo towns.

Still another consideration had its influence upon the majority. The party of Dacoma would be on our track as soon as they had returned from the Apache trail. We had, therefore, no time to waste in gold-hunting, and the simplest of the scalp-hunters knew this.