Unexplored! Part 10

Sanchez was the name of the fat leader, and his son and his servant the others proved to be. They had, it developed, a grouch against the lumber company down on the Kawa, (in which, as it happened, Ace's father had an interest). They had been fired from the crew, and no punishment was too great for a company that would do that to a workman who merely asked his accustomed afternoon siesta.

"_Detestablemente!_" (And other remarks that sounded like fireworks.) The pigs of _Americanoes!_ Pedro convulsed Ted with his recital when they had crept back to the cave mouth, despite the seriousness of the situation.

That they would start more fires at their first opportunity had also been established by their conversation.

"We can't let 'em go," argued the ranch boy.

"We can't capture them," the Castilian was as positive. "We are unarmed, and they have their daggers."

Ted pondered, peered out at the still, smoking ground, soothed the nervous horse, then came to a conclusion, which he unfolded to his comrade.

He must go for help. He would ride that horse, find Norris, get Ace to wireless Radcliffe, and summon help. But--he eyed Pedro doubtfully, knowing his uncourageous bearing at the rodeo.

"But what?" insisted the Spanish boy. But had he not guessed it! Of course he would remain behind to keep track of the desperadoes.

But how could Ted start with the ground so hot? He would have to wait awhile, then make up for lost time by break-neck riding.

So be it. They were hungry now, and ate the ration of tinned corned beef and hardtack from their pockets. Ted also fed the horse some hardtack, and brought him several hatfuls of water from the spring,--scorching his soles as he crossed the charred ground.

Pedro propped his tired body in a sitting posture with one ear c.o.c.ked for the conversation within. Ted flung himself flat on his back in the smoky gloom, which obscured even the light of the moon. He was mentally exploring that cave,--remembering what Norris had once told them of the region and wondering into what limed recesses the Mexicans were likely to retire when capture threatened. That the cave had its depths he felt a.s.sured by their having so suddenly appeared with their torches. And what could Pedro do if they tried to leave before help came?--My, but he must ride! Three such incendiaries loose in those dry forests, and there would be no end to the harm they could do!

The limestone of which these caves were formed,--sediment of the sh.e.l.ls of myriads of sea creatures,--had been deposited in the primeval ocean that once flowed over that whole region from the Gulf of California.

Uplifted by contractions of the earth crust, it had been cut as the surrounding granite could not have been by the percolating rains and streams, flowing along the cracks of the uplift.

This cave was probably a network of water-worn pa.s.sageways extending no telling how far underneath the ridge. There were reputed to be caves almost as large as Mammoth in these unexplored recesses of the Southern Sierras. Could this be one of them, or was it just a two- or three-cavern affair, he wondered? On that depended a very great deal of their success in the coming capture, for once entrenched within these labyrinthian caves, the Mexicans could hold them at bay until they had made good their get-away. It had been so, he had been told by military men, in chasing Mexicans over the border.

Perhaps there were other caves in the region. Where, indeed, had these men secreted themselves while the fire had raged in a semi-circle about them? In a cave, the air would be damp and cool, no matter what was going on outside, and they could have been genuinely comfortable with the inferno raging over their very heads. Unless, of course, the smoke suffocated them! That would all depend on the air pa.s.sages that fed their particular cavern. Some of those caves across the Mexican border were miles in extent, and had exits galore.

Pondering the pendant stalact.i.tes that had gleamed like onyx in the firelight, he pictured the water percolating drop by drop through the limestone crevices, dissolving the lime and forming the stalact.i.tes a drop at a time through the years. How wonderful it was! He wished he too might study. Perhaps, if he could make a go of his mother's fruit ranch?--He was half asleep. He roused himself by trying to recall what it was that Norris had told them about stalact.i.tes.

The rain water, charged with the carbonic acid gas of the atmosphere, seeps in from the surface and falls drop by drop. Each slow drop remains long enough upon the ceiling to deposit some of its dissolved lime in a ring to which the next succeeding drop adds another layer.

In time this ring lengthens into a pipe-stem of soft lime. It fills and crystallizes, thickens and elongates, as the constant drip, evaporating from the outside, deposits more and more of the lime. Thus these stone icicles are formed, sometimes an inch a year.

At the same time the drops that fall to the floor, solidifying one at a time, build up a slender pyramid beneath,--a stalagmite,--which reaches higher and higher as its stalact.i.te hangs lower and lower. In time these two formations meet in a slender pillar, the pillar thickens through the same slow process and if the pillars stand close enough together,--as where the drip follows a long rock fissure,--the pillars will eventually join in a solid part.i.tion.

This _dripstone_, as the material of the formation is termed, began as soft carbonate of lime; it hardens into _gypsum_ or, sometimes, alabaster, or calcite.

The boy peered once more into the carved gallery, waiting till an up-flare of the dying fire again illumined the fantastic ceiling, whose fairy architecture gleamed opalescent in the orange glow. He thought of the old fairy tales of gnomes hammering on their golden anvils in their jeweled caves in the hearts of the mountains, and wondered if such lore had not arisen from the fact of just such cave formations, coupled with the echoes the slightest sound set to reverberating. After all, most folk tales had some foundation.

Once these Mexicans were captured and the forest fire brought under control, he meant to ask Norris if their camping expedition might not include an exploration of some of the caves he had a.s.sured them honeycombed this part of the Sierra.

He little dreamed in what fantastic fas.h.i.+on his wish was to come about, as he lay there waiting till he could start his ride for help!

Nor did Pedro, drowsing, exhausted, beside him, dream of the test that was to be made of his courage while he remained behind. He seemed so f.a.gged that Ted did not even wake him, when at last he deemed it time to sally forth.

Ted loved nothing better than a good horse.

The plainsman, he used to argue, may have his twin six, the airman his s.h.i.+p, but for the outdoor man, give him the comrade who can take the mountain trails, the needle carpeted forest floor, the unbridged streams, the glacier polished slopes.

The black horse wore the high Visalia saddle, against which his rider could rest on steep grades. It would be more dangerous, should the animal throw him, though of course the high horn would help him to pull leather should need arise. He had lengthened the stirrups, Western fas.h.i.+on, till his long legs dangled easily and he could have raised himself scarce an inch above the saddle by standing in his stirrups. His long, lean legs would give him a good hold where the going was rough, and if he had only a quirt, or even a pair of drop-shank spurs, he would have felt confident of making time. (For he knew how to use the spurs so that they would not torture his animal.) He regretted that the mysterious owner had not fitted the poor brute with the old spade bit, for should the horse fall, on the uneven ground, it would be likely to cut his mouth badly. He had once seen an animal bleed to death from such a hurt. Well, they must not fall!

Mechanically he opened the reins, as was his habit:--His own horse had been trained to hitch to the ground, and all he had to do when he dismounted in a hurry was to drop rein. He was glad to find that the saddle was rim fire, (or double-rigged), as it would stay in place, no matter what acrobatics they might be forced to perform. So far, so good!

With right hand on the saddle horn, left grasping rein and mane, he swung up, and before ever he touched leather, they were off.

Would his mount prove broncho? Had his probably Mexican owner uglied his disposition? That remained to be discovered. And on that detail would depend much of the success of his race for help. For with Norris at the far end of the ridge, there would be several hours of tough going, he surmised.

"Yes, sir, you sh.o.r.e gotta _slope_ some!" he told the mustang, in imitation of the cowmen. "Or those Greasers will just naturally fade out of the landscape."

As the night wind blew the smoke down canyon, he could very nearly tell his way, and the time as well, by the stars. Being early in July, he knew that in the constellation of Hercules, almost directly above, the hero's head pointed South. It was something Norris had told them one night when they had to travel late to find a fit camping spot. The crest of the ridge lay South, and along the crest he should find more open going. He would then have to veer to the West. As Venus rose brilliantly in the East, he knew he had now about two hours and a half till sunrise.

Breasting the wind, he headed around the twisting stems of unyielding manzanita, then up, straight South, over slide rock and fallen tree trunks, turning aside for only the larger bowlders. The mountain-bred horse was lithe as a greyhound, as he alternately climbed and slid, or made wide leaps over the uneven slope.

The ridge attained, however, he found it harder going than he had imagined, by reason of the broken shale, weathered by the frost of unnumbered winters. But just on the other side,--that furthest from the fire zone,--stretched a smooth granite slope, where the going would be un.o.bstructed. But these smooth slopes, bed of that prehistoric river of ice, slanted slowly but surely to the cascading mountain stream whose roar now a.s.sailed his ears. One slip on that smooth surface and his horse would never stop till he had reached the rapids! The boy wondered if the animal were sufficiently sure-footed. The answer would mean, at the very least, the difference between a broken leg and a sound one, for the boy speeding to secure help in the capture of the fire bugs. But there seemed a fighting chance, and he would take it.

At intervals the granite was blocked out by cracks, and he found the slight unevenness of a crack lent his mount a surer footing. At times it was fairly level and he ventured a gallop; again it was precarious even at a walk.

Suddenly a monotonous "chick-chick-chick" buzzed beneath their feet. The horse leapt violently to one side,--just in time to evade the coiled spring of four feet of green-black rattlesnake, on whose sinister form he had all but trod. By that instant leap he had avoided the speedy death of the injected virus of the stroke. Ted's heart was in his mouth.

On--on--on he urged the black. It became mechanical; he ceased to think.

Exhausted alike by his long vigil and the strain he had been under, he now sat his horse in a daze, just keeping his nose generally Westward, while he skirted the crest of the ridge. He felt half numb as he rounded the end of the crest where Norris was to have been stationed. To his stupefaction, the fire fighters had completed their trench and gone!

Where could they be? Probably back at the camp, which he had skirted by this detour, never dreaming he would find any one but Rosa there.

Well,--he was "outa luck!" Back he went the way he had come, till he thought it time to climb the ridge. A flare of cook-fire through the graying dawn showed him where to head, and the huge sun was just slipping blood-red through the smoke gloom as he took the last log at a leap and dropped off beside the moving figures.

The men were all there,--as was Ranger Radcliffe, whom the DeHaviland had evidently returned with fresh supplies. It took but few words to acquaint them with the situation.

By the time Ted had drank a quart of coffee with his breakfast, he was able to pull himself together again and lead the posse to the hidden cave mouth. The Ranger would have to be the one to go, to make the arrest, and he deputized Ace to help him. That meant leaving Norris to head the firemen. (It never occurred to any of them that they would not be right back with Pedro and the Mexicans. The foam-flecked horse Ted left to Rosa's care.)

The cave mouth accomplished, Radcliffe entered first, with revolver c.o.c.ked, though Ace almost trod on his heels. Ted staggered after with a flaming pine knot flickering in his almost nerveless hand.

The cavern was absolutely empty!

To Pedro, left in the cave mouth to watch the Mexicans, the night had been the crucial test.

He had been asleep when Ted departed, while the Mexicans had slept within the cave. He awoke to find the three dark visages bending over him, their verbal fireworks hissing about his ears. At first "caballo" was all he could make of it,--(the horse). Then as Sanchez the stout, soared rhetorically above the others, he gathered that they dared not leave him and they could not carry him. "El Diablo!" How much simpler to thrust a dagger between his ribs. "Muerte!--Presto!" But no, wait! For the time being he would walk between them carrying two extra torches. There must be another exit to the cave, but could the burros make it with the packs?

Try it they must, for this way their choice lay between the fire fighters and the flames. The doomed forest still glowed red and black down canyon, and with the morning light, the wind veered till the smoke a.s.sailed them chokingly. There was no time to be lost.

Never for an instant dreaming that Pedro understood, they gave him the torches he was to bear, and started into the depths of the cavern. And the boy? Too frightened at first to have spoken had he tried to, he had the wit to see that protest would be useless. They were three to one, armed, and desperate, and they counted him a likely witness to their incendiarism.

Besides, now that the wind had changed, he could not have gone ten paces without having been blinded by the smoke till he could not see where he was heading. This side of the canyon was going to go like tinder, too.

Besides,--this came later,--how could he allow the fire bugs to get away?

His job was to keep tabs on them, and that he would now have an exceptional opportunity to do, he cheered himself.

At first the flare of the torches revealed merely the cavern of onyx stalact.i.tes he had seen the night before. This formation wound in a narrowing labyrinth until they made a sharp turn to the left. Presently they came to a pit of inky water, around which they had to skirt on a sloping shelf. The burros could not make it and they left them there.

Either, Pedro argued, they meant to return that way or else they had other supplies awaiting them. But now they could no longer smell the smoke. From somewhere came pure air, damp and refres.h.i.+ngly chilly. The sounds of the outer world were cut off completely. On and on they wandered as in a dream. Pedro began surrept.i.tiously pinching himself to make sure he was not having some weird nightmare.