Part 25 (2/2)

It rained all that day, and when night settled down it grew unreasonably warm for that alt.i.tude, and down on the marshes the horses stood, patiently enduring the gnats and mosquitoes. They plagued Pogosa so cruelly that Wetherell took his own web of bobinet and made a protecting cage for her head and hands. Never before had she been s.h.i.+elded from the pests of outdoor life. She laughed as she heard the baffled buzzing outside her net, and, pointing her finger, addressed them mockingly.

Wetherell took the same joy in this that a child takes in the action of a kitten dressed as a doll. To Eugene he said:

”You tell her Injun plenty fool. He don't know enough to get gold and buy mosquito netting. If she is wise and shows me the mine she will never be bitten again. No flies. No mosquitoes. Plenty beef. Plenty b.u.t.ter and hot biscuits. Plenty sugar and coffee. White man's own horse carry her back to her people.”

It took some time to make the old woman understand this, and then she replied briefly, but with vigor, and Eugene translated it thus: ”White man all same big chief. Go find mine, _sure_, for you. No want other white man to have gold. All yours.”

The morning broke tardily. The rain had ceased, but the gray mist still hid the peaks, and now and then the pines shook down a shower of drops upon the tent cloth as if impatient of the persistent gathering of moisture. Otherwise the forest was as still as if it were cut from bronze.

Kelley arose and, going outside, began kicking the embers together.

”Wake up, Andy. It's a gray outlook we have,” he announced, after a careful survey. ”The worst sign is this warmth and stillness. We're in the heart of the storm, and the mosquitoes are h.e.l.lish.”

As Wetherell was creeping from the tent door one of the pines quivered and sent down a handful of drops, squarely soaking the back of his neck, and a huge mosquito stuck savagely to the end of his nose. He was not in the best of humor as he straightened up.

”I can stand cold and snow, or wet and cold, but this hot, sticky, dark weather irritates me. Let's climb high and see if we can't reach the frost-line.”

”We'll be frosty enough when this storm pa.s.ses,” Kelley said, comfortingly. Then in a note of astonishment and surprise, ”Well, look at that!”

Wetherell looked where he pointed, and beheld Pogosa squatting before a meager fire at her tent door, her head carefully draped in her bobinet.

He forgot his own lumps and b.u.mps, and laughed. ”So doth the white man's civilization creep upon and subdue the Amerind, destroying his robust contempt for the elements and making of him a Sybarite.”

Eugene appeared, grinning ruefully. ”Heap dam' moskeets. Drink my blood all night.”

”I reckon you got gran'ma's share,” said Kelley.

Pogosa met Wetherell's glance with an exultant smile and pointed at the net as if to say: ”See, I am safe. The angry brutes cannot touch me.”

”The old girl is on her taps this morning. She deserves a reward. Wait a jiffy. There”--and Kelley uncorked a flask and poured a wee drop of an amber-colored liquid into the cup of coffee which Wetherell was about to take to her--”say nothing and see what happens.”

She ate a rousing breakfast and was especially pleased with the coffee.

Kelley repeated the dose, and she, much invigorated, ordered Eugene to bring her pony to her. This tickled Kelley mightily.

”You see how it is! She's already the millionairess. Who ever heard of an Injun getting up a horse for an old squaw? Look at Eugene!”

Eugene was indeed in open rebellion, and Wetherell, not caring to have trouble with him, went down and brought up the pony himself. He also gave the old woman his slicker and insisted on her wearing it, whereat Eugene wondered again.

The rain was beginning as they took their way over the meadow, and Wetherell was near to being bogged the first crack out of the box. ”Do we go up that cliff?” he asked.

Pogosa waved her forefinger back and forth as though tracing the doublings of the trail.

Kelley scanned the wall narrowly. ”I don't quite see it,” he remarked, openly, ”but I reckon I can find it,” and he spurred his horse to the front.

”No! No!” screamed Pogosa in a sudden fury, her voice shrill and nasal.

Kelley stopped, and she motioned Wetherell to his place in the lead.

With a comical look in his eyes the trailer fell back. ”'Pears like I ain't good enough to precede her Majesty. Go ahead, Andy.”

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