When Dreams Come True Part 1

When Dreams Come True.

by Ritter Brown.

There is a tradition extant among the Indians of the Southwest, extending from Arizona to the Isthmus of Panama, to the effect that, Montezuma will one day return on the back of an eagle, wearing a golden crown, and rule the land once more; typifying the return of the Messiah and the rebirth and renewal of the race.

WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

I

The beauty of midsummer lay upon the land--the mountains and plains of Chihuahua. It was August, the month of melons and ripening corn. High aloft in the pale blue vault of heaven, a solitary eagle soared in ever widening circles in its flight toward the sun. Far out upon the plains the lone wolf skulked among the sage and cactus in search of the rabbit and antelope, or lay panting in the scanty shade of the yucca.

By most persons this little known land of the great Southwest is regarded as the one which G.o.d forgot. But to those who are familiar with its vast expanse of plain and horizon, its rugged sierras, its wild desolate _mesas_ and solitary peaks of half-decayed mountains--its tawny stretches of desert marked with the occasional skeletons of animal and human remains--its golden wealth of sunshine and opalescent skies, and have felt the brooding death-like silence which seems to hold as in a spell all things living as well as dead, this land becomes one of mystery and enchantment--a mute witness of some unknown or forgotten past when the children of men were young, whose secrets it still withholds, and with whose dust is mingled not only that of unnumbered and unknown generations of men, but that of Montezuma and the hardy daring _Conquistadores_ of old Spain.

But whatever may be the general consensus of opinion concerning this land, such at least was the light in which it was viewed by Captain Forest, as he and his Indian attendant, Jose, drew rein on the rim of a broken, wind-swept _mesa_ in the heart of the Chihuahuan desert, a full day's ride from Santa Fe whither they were bound, to witness the _Fiesta_, the Feast of the Corn, which was celebrated annually at this season.

The point where they halted commanded a sweeping view of the surrounding country. Just opposite, some five leagues distant, on the farther side of the valley which lay below them, towered the sharp ragged crest of the Mexican Sierras; their sides and foothills clothed in a thin growth of chaparral, pine and juniper and other low-growing bushes. Deep, rugged _arroyos_, the work of the rain and mountain torrents, cut and scarred the foothills which descended in precipitous slopes to the valley and plains below. Solitary giant cactus dotted the landscape, adding to the general desolation of the scene, relieved only by the glitter of the silvery sage, white poppy and yucca, and yellow and scarlet cactus bloom which glistened in the slanting rays of the afternoon sun and the intense radiation of heat in which was mirrored the distant mirage; transforming the desert into wonderful lakes of limpid waters that faded in turn on the ever receding horizon.

Below them numerous Indian encampments of some half-wild hill tribe straggled along the banks of the almost dry stream which wound through the valley until lost in the thirsty sands of the desert beyond.

"'Tis the very spot, _Capitan_--the place of the skull!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jose, the first to break the silence. "See--yonder it lies just as we left it!" and he pointed toward the foot of the _mesa_ where a spring trickled from the rock, a short distance from which lay a human skull bleached white by long exposure to the sun.

Instinctively the Captain's thoughts reverted to the incidents of the previous year when he lay in the desert sick unto death with fever and his horse, Starlight, had stood over his prostrate body and fought the wolves and vultures for a whole day and night until Jose returned with help from the Indian _pueblo_, La Guna. Involuntarily his hand slipped caressingly to the animal's neck, a chestnut with four white feet and a white mane and tail that swept the ground and a forelock that hung to his nostrils, concealing the star on his forehead; a magnificent animal, lithe and graceful as a lady's silken scarf, untiring and enduring as a Damascus blade. A horse that comes but once during twenty generations of Spanish-Arabian stock, and then is rare, and which, through some trick of nature or reversion, blossoms forth in all the beauty of an original type, taking upon himself the color and markings of some shy, wild-eyed dam, the pride of the Bedouin tribe and is known as the "Pearl of the Desert." The type of horse that bore Alexander and Jenghis Khan and the Prophet's War Chieftains to victory. As a colt he had escaped the _rodeo_. No mark of the branding-irons scarred his shoulder or thin transparent flanks. Again the Captain's thoughts traveled backward and he beheld a band of wild horses driven past him in review by a troup of Mexican _vaqueros_, and the beautiful chestnut stallion emerge from the cloud of dust on their rim and tossing his great white mane in the breeze, neigh loudly and defiantly as he swept by lithe and supple of limb.

"Bring me that horse!" he had cried.

"That horse? _Jose y Maria, Capitan!_ He cannot be broken. Besides, it will take ten men to tie him."

"Then let ten men tie him!" he had replied, flinging a handful of golden eagles among them.

Many attempts had been made to steal the Arab since he had come into the Captain's possession. It was a dangerous undertaking, for the horse had the nave habit of relegating man to his proper place, either by ignoring his presence, or by quietly kicking him into eternity with the same indifference that he would switch a fly with his tail. Jose might feed and groom and saddle him, but not mount him. To one only would he submit; to him to whom a common destiny had linked him--his master.

"_Sangre de Dios, Capitan!_" began Jose again, breaking in upon the latter's musings. "Is it not better that we rest yonder by the spring than sit here in this infernal sun, gazing at nothing? 'Tis hot as the breath of h.e.l.l where the Padres tell us all heretics will go after death!" The grim expression of the Captain's face relaxed for a moment and he turned toward him with a laugh.

"Aye, who knows," he replied, "we too, may go there some day," and dismounting, he began to loosen his saddle girths.

"The G.o.ds forbid!" answered Jose, making the sign of the cross, as if to ward off the influence of some evil spell. "I do not understand you _Americanos_," he continued, also dismounting and untying a small pack at the back of his saddle. "You are strange--you are ever gay when you should be sober. You laugh at the G.o.ds and the saints and frown at the _corridos_, and yet toss alms to the most worthless beggar."

The foregoing conversation was carried on in Spanish. Although Jose had acquired a liberal smattering of English during his service with the Captain, he nevertheless detested it; obstinately adhering to Spanish which, though only his mother-tongue by adoption, was in his estimation at least a language for _Caballeros_.

The two men were superb specimens of their respective races. Their rugged appearance, height and breadth of shoulder would have attracted attention anywhere. The Captain wore a gray felt hat and a rough gray suit of tweed--his trousers tucked in his long riding boots. Jose was clad in the typical _vaquero's_ costume--buff leggins and jacket of goat-skin, slashed and ornamented with silver threads and b.u.t.tons, and a red worsted sash about his middle in which he carried a knife and pistol. From beneath the broad brim of his _sombrero_ peeped the knot of the yellow silken kerchief which he wore bound about his head and under which lay coiled his long black hair.

Captain Forest was unusually tall and stalwart, deep chested and robust in appearance, with not a superfluous ounce of flesh on his body, hardened by the rigors of long months of camp-life. His head was large and shapely, well poised and carried high on a full neck that sprang from the great breadth of his shoulders. His face, smooth and sensitive, and large and regular in feature with high cheek-bones and slightly hollowed cheeks, was bronzed by long exposure to the sun and weather, adding to the ruggedness of his appearance. The high arching forehead, acquiline nose and firm set mouth and chin denoted alertness, action and decision, while from his eyes, large and dark and piercing, shone that strange light so characteristic of the dreamer and genius. And yet, in spite of this alertness of mind and body and general appearance of strength and power which his presence inspired, there lurked about him an air of repose indicative of confidence in self and the full knowledge of his powers. Sensitive to a degree, keen and alive at all times, the strength of his personality, suggestive of his mastery over men, impressed the most un.o.bservant. Yet owing to his poise and self-control those about him did not realize wholly his power until such moments when justice was violated. Then the latent force within him a.s.serted itself and he became as inexorable as a law of nature in his demands. An intense spirit of democracy oddly combined with fastidiousness made an unusual and attractive personality in which the mundane and the spiritual were strangely blended. Outwardly he was a man of the world, yet inwardly he had advanced so far into the domain of sheer spirituality he scarcely realized that others groped their way among the most obvious material modes of expression.

Having removed their saddles and turned their horses loose to find what scant cropping the desert afforded, the two sought the shelter of the narrow strip of shade beside the spring at the foot of the _mesa_. Here they would rest until the heat of the day had pa.s.sed, resuming their journey that evening. Jose unwound his _zerape_ from his shoulders and spreading it on the ground between them, deposited two tin cups and a package of sandwiches upon it which, with the addition of a flask of _aguardiente_ which the Captain drew from his pocket, formed their meal.

Two years previous the Captain had rescued his companion from a street mob in Hermosillo, the result of a feud that had broken out between her citizens and the Yaqui Indians; Jose having been mistaken for one of the latter. With his back against a wall and the blood streaming from his wounds, he was making a desperate stand. Three citizens who had run upon his knife, lay squirming at his feet; but the odds were too great. In another moment all would have been over with him had it not been for the Captain who chanced upon him in the nick of time. s.n.a.t.c.hing a club from one of his a.s.sailants and accompanying each blow with a volley of Spanish oaths, he rushed through the mob, scattering it in all directions. Whether it was the oaths or the Captain's exhibition of his fighting qualities that impressed Jose most it is difficult to say. Be that as it may, from that hour he belonged to Captain Forest body and soul. He was the grand senor, the _Hidalgo_, in comparison to whom other men were as nothing.

The meal over, Jose with head and shoulders on one end of the _zerape_, stretched himself at full length upon the ground and, as was his wont, fell asleep almost immediately. Captain Forest swallowed a last draught of liquor. Then leisurely rolling a cigarette he lit it, and with back against the cliff and gaze fixed abstractedly on the mountains opposite, smoked in silence.

II

Jack Forest's life was rich and full to overflowing with the things of this world which are generally considered to make for happiness and culture. Into the measure of his life, the comparatively short span of thirty-five years, had been crowded a wealth of incident and experience that seldom falls to the lot of the most fortunate men in this commercialized era whose tendency is to pull nations like individuals down to a common level of mediocrity, and seems bent upon extinguishing even their few remaining national traits and characteristics.

Born in Washington and a graduate of Harvard, he had traveled to the four corners of the earth, and hunted big game from the arctic circle to the equator. During a winter's sojourn in Egypt he made the acquaintance of Lord X----, then Consul-General of Egypt, upon whose advice he entered the diplomatic service of his country. Five years were subsequently spent as first Secretary of the American legations in London and St. Petersburg. The enthusiasm with which he threw himself into the work and the natural executive ability which he displayed soon marked him as a coming man in diplomatic circles. But the speculations of his friends concerning his future career were destined to be rudely shattered by one of those inexplicable tricks of fate which, in the twinkling of an eye, so often change the lives of individuals.

The spirit of adventure which had lain dormant within him ever since his decision to adopt diplomacy as a profession was suddenly awakened by the outbreak of hostilities between Spain and the United States. Through the influence of his father, General Forest, a Civil War veteran, and that of his uncle, Colonel Van Ashton, retired, he received the appointment of Second Lieutenant of Volunteers and shipped with his regiment for Cuba. He was wounded at the battle of Santiago, though not seriously. At the close of the campaign in the West Indies his regiment was ordered to the Philippines, where, at the end of a year, he was promoted to a captaincy in the regular army. At this juncture in his career the sudden death of his father necessitated his return to America on leave of absence.

The estate to which he and his mother fell heirs was an unusually large one, the administration of which demanded his immediate and entire attention if they wished to keep their holdings intact. But as this was clearly incompatible to the life of a soldier, he was forced to resign from the army. He took this step without great reluctance, for brief though his career as a soldier had been, it was a brilliant and satisfactory one. It was not for the glory of the profession that he had entered the army, but purely in the spirit of the patriot; and he had fought his battles and returned with newly won laurels and a fund of interesting experiences. Besides, campaigning in the Philippines had convinced him that diplomacy, though perhaps not always so exciting, was preferable to a life whose daily routine was enlivened only by target practice, dress-parades and the occasional diversion of chasing naked men about in the bush.

As soon as the estate was settled it was his intention to reenter the diplomatic service for which he knew himself to be better fitted than before his two years experience in the army.

The bulk of the fortune consisted of mines in Mexico, whither he was called to superintend his interests. At the end of a year, however, he received word from his uncle informing him that the Ministry to Greece would be open to him if he chose to accept it. Jubilant over the prospect of reentering the world of Diplomacy so soon, he immediately telegraphed his acceptance, and the following day addressed a letter to the girl he had known from his youth, Blanch Lennox, whose character, personal charm and ambition marked her as the one to share the future with him. There was as little doubt in his mind that she would accept him, as there was in hers that he would make the proposal; and when a week later, he received a telegram confirming his conjecture, the answer came as a matter of course.

The business at the mines was settled, but Mexico and her people were a new experience. Its vast expanse of plains, virgin forests and wild sierras lured him on; and in the company of a friend whose acquaintance he had made at the mines, he pa.s.sed the remaining time left at his disposal traveling in the interior of the country, gathering data and visiting the wild tribes who, though of the same blood, were in characteristics a distinct people from the slavish _peon_ cla.s.ses. A people that have never actually submitted to the rule of the White man, and have held tenaciously to the ancient beliefs and customs of their forefathers.

He was impressed by the fact that, although living entirely independent of the outside world, they were nevertheless self-supporting and in certain instances had developed marked degrees of civilization.

He saw how they tended their flocks and fields, made their own clothes and articles of use, and wrought gold and silver ornaments embellished with native stones, and used the bow and arrow in the chase. They knew nothing of modern civilization. Their daily lives were sufficient unto them, and they were therefore happy. G.o.d seemed infinite and dwelt in their midst, and spoke to them from the dust as well as from the stars.

But why was this? Why was life for them, in the natural course of events, so easy and simple, and so difficult and complicated for the civilized man?

His thoughts continually traveled back to the Eskimo of the frozen North, and to Africa and her sun-parched deserts and star-strewn skies with the roaming Bedouin in the background who regarded the earth as a footstool to be used only as a means to an end and houses as habitations fit only for slaves.

The picture he saw was not the ideal one--the emanc.i.p.ated man of whom men of all times have dreamed and to whose advent some men are still looking forward. But the care-free life of the primitive man set him thinking--opened his eyes to certain truths which, until now, he had failed to observe. Longings for the unattainable began to stir within him and take hold of him in a manner entirely new. Hazy, fragmentary glimpses of hitherto undreamed possibilities began to shape themselves in his mind. The immensity and profundity of the universe and the mysterious growth of its hidden life held and enthralled him.

The last word, he felt, had not yet been spoken. There was something lacking in the so-called civilized man's economy--a lack which his philosophy failed to account for, but which was not observable among animals and primitive men. There, the economy of the infinite cosmic mechanism which binds and holds all manifestations of life in one harmonious whole was too apparent to even suggest the detachment of a single form of life from this whole, but with the civilized man it was different. He alone seemed to have detached himself from this harmonious whole--his life stood out as a thing separate and apart from it. There seemed to be no permanent place for him in the economy of nature.

But how had this estrangement taken place? Why was he, the intellectually developed man, incapable of living in harmony with the universal law of life when it was so easy for the primitive man to do so? It was evident that he had lost his way somewhere along the path of normal development. Everything pointed to this--its signs were apparent to all who wished to see. Nature voiced it on every hand, in the forests and plains and on the mountain tops, and during the silence of night as he lay on the ground gazing at the stars overhead.

The wind that sighed among the ruined temples of the ancient races and the mountains that looked down upon them seemed to speak to him in the ever recurring refrain: "Behold the works and glories of men--we are enduring! The same wind that sighs among them this day, sang to them when their walls and pillars stood erect. The same mountains that shadowed them in the past, will still stand guard over the valleys in the days to come when the works of the present and future generations of men have pa.s.sed away forever!"

He knew that these questions had been asked during countless generations, and that men were still asking them to-day. He knew also that man's situation in the universe was taking on a new aspect, and yet it was strange that such thoughts should absorb him, a man of the world, of the fighting type, whose wide experience with men and things had hitherto convinced him that the world, though not perfect, was good--that present progress made for good, and the best western civilization had thus far attained was probably about all men of the future could look forward to so far as happiness was concerned. These views, however, were no longer tenable if our arts, philosophies and scientific attainments fail to civilize and refine us. Clearly, modern man's conception of ethical progress was as deficient in certain respects as that of the great historic civilizations. The secret of right living had not yet been discovered. History proved this, and unless the trend of modern materialistic tendencies was supplanted by something higher, the same fate that overtook the Ancients must inevitably overtake us.

But the date of their wedding had been set, and the time for their departure for Athens was drawing nearer. Santa Fe lay a day's ride from the railroad. Instead of performing the journey in a single ride, he decided to pa.s.s the night at the _hacienda_ of a friend, Don Felix de Tovar, some twelve miles distant from the old Spanish town. Thither he would ride during the cool of the evening, completing the remainder of the journey the following day. Between Santa Fe and Don Felix's _hacienda_ lay the Indian _pueblo_, La Jara, situated some distance off the main road. By following the trail that led past this village, Jose explained, they would reduce the distance to Don Felix's _rancho_ by at least two or three miles.

The country through which they traveled was broken and rugged. Twilight had descended upon the land, and as the two, following the trail that skirted the foothills, rode to the crest of the _mesa_ upon which the village was situated, they came suddenly upon a woman riding at full gallop. The soft, sandy formation of the soil was such that neither heard the approach of the other, and all three reined in their horses with a jerk; the woman throwing hers well back upon its haunches; a high-strung, black, wiry animal whose foam-flecked mouth and breast told that she had been riding hard.

How free and wild she looked! She was either a Spaniard or an Indian, and rode astride. A bunch of red berries adorned her heavy black hair which fell in ma.s.ses about her shoulders, accentuating the curve of her throat and well-formed, clear-cut features just discernible in the waning light as she sat motionless and erect on her horse, gazing at him in silence and evidently as much surprised as he was by their sudden encounter. Then with a smile and a nod of the head by way of acknowledgment, she lifted her reins and spurred past him; disappearing in the gathering darkness on the trail below them. Her unexpected appearance and grace and type of beauty, so different from that of the woman who occupied his thoughts, thrilled him for the moment as he listened to the soft, m.u.f.fled hoof-beats of her horse which grew fainter and fainter until all was silence, save for the sighing of the wind among the _mesquit_ and _manzanita_ bushes that grew about them. All trace of her was gone. She had vanished into the night as swiftly as she had come.

Then a strange thing happened. Something suddenly gripped his heart; that indefinable something after which he had been groping and which had been knocking so persistently at the portals of his inmost being, but which until now had eluded him. The sight of that strange woman had shown him that, to be beautiful is to be free and natural. That the world he knew and revered was purely an artificial world of man's invention, transitory and a thing apart from the universal life in the midst of which he had been placed and apart from which it was impossible for him to develop naturally. That nature is more perfect than all the artificialities of civilization and a more efficient environment for the normal development of man. That man's happiness and true relationship to the universe were attainable only through direct contact and communion with this life whose creations are the only great and lasting realities. Thus only was it possible for him to quicken and vitalize his powers to their fullest. That when creation finished its task, peace and harmony reigned in the midst of the terrestrial garden, rendering man's pursuit of happiness through diverse acts and infinite forms of diversion quite unnecessary.

He had discovered the wild man's secret--why the stars still sing to him as of yore--why the winds and the waters, the animals and the rocks and the trees still speak to him in harmonies long since forgotten by civilized man. A great and secret joy, such as he had never before experienced, filled his soul; uplifting, consuming and mastering him....