Part 26 (2/2)

”It shows how human she is.”

”Human! She's superhuman. She's crazy, that's what she is.”

”It is all very wonderful to me, but I'm worried about her. She mustn't stay out there in this rain. It's going to turn cold. See that streak in the west?”

As Wetherell left the camp-fire and began to climb back toward the comb of rocks he felt not merely the sheer immensity of this granite basin, but the loneliness, its almost insupportable silence and emptiness. With the feeling of one who intrudes he called to the old woman. He stooped and put his arm about her. ”Come,” he said. ”You will die here. Come to the fire.”

She suffered him to lead her away, but her head hung on her breast, her arms were limp.

Back at the camp-fire, after seeing that Pogosa had been properly taken care of, the men faced each other in gloomy silence.

”Right here we take our medicine, partner,” remarked Kelley. ”Here we put a dot and double the line. I'd like to break over that divide and see how it looks in there, but our lady friend seems indisposed, and I guess we'll just toast our knees and think where we missed it.”

”After all,” said Wetherell, soothingly, ”this morning may be merely incidental. Let us be patient. She may recover.” And at dark he carried some hot drink over to her tepee, but found her sleeping, and decided not to awaken her.

Back at their fire, as the night deepened, the men lighted their pipes, and with blankets at their backs huddled close about it. An imperious voice broke from Pogosa's tent. Wetherell looked around at Eugene.

”Did you speak?” he asked.

Eugene protested. ”No. Pogosa talk.”

”It sounded like a chief's voice,” Kelley began. ”A vigorous voice.”

Eugene, trembling like a scared puppy, crept close to Wetherell. His voice was a mere whisper. ”That no Pogos'--that Injun spirit talking.”

Kelley was amused. ”A spirit, eh? What does this spirit Injun say?”

”Say, 'White man with red beard listen--come closer and listen'--”

”That's you, Andy. Draw close. Your side partner has something to say.”

Wetherell, alarmed by this delirium of his patient, rose to his feet, and as he did so her harsh voice uttered a short phrase which stiffened Eugene with fright. He left his place and sidled after Wetherell.

”She say _me_, Eugene, come talk for you.”

”Very true. You'll need him. This may be a dying confession,” argued Kelley.

”You go ahead in tepee,” Eugene urged. ”Me sit outside. Pogos' medicine now. See 'um vision. Spirits talk to her.”

As he peered in at the tepee door Wetherell perceived Pogosa dimly. She was sitting erect in her bed. Her eyes were wide, the pose of her head erect and vigorous. She appeared a span taller, and when she spoke her voice seemed to issue from a deep and powerful chest.

With Eugene as a scared interpreter, Pogosa said: ”Here, now where we are encamped, a battle took place many winters ago, and some of the exiles were slain. One of these was Iapi, the husband of Pogosa. He it was who could not speak Shoshoni.”

Impatiently Kelley asked, ”Will she be able to show us the mine?”

”She will try, but she is old and her mind is misty. She say she is grateful to you, Red Beard, and will give the gold to you. She asks that you take her back to her own people after you find the mine.”

”Is the mine far from here?” asked Wetherell, gently.

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