Part 10 (1/2)
”Mike! They've killed my dog Mike!”
”They nailed him to a cottonwood tree. A nail through each leg. A nail through his throat. Nails through his body. They had crucified him. And, oh, his pitiful eyes!”
Lee Bryant stood perfectly still and quiet. Dave was frozen and horrified. Both gazed fixedly across the mesa to where the cottonwoods could be seen.
”Is Mike alive yet?” Bryant asked presently, in an unsteady voice.
”No; not now. I found a piece of iron and hammered the nails free.
Then I lifted him down and carried him to the creek and washed his wounds. But he died. I see his eyes yet, looking up at me.” For a little she was overcome. Then she resumed, ”When he was dead, I carried him up to your door, for I knew you must have loved him.”
Bryant glanced up at her.
”Mike would know you were a friend,” he said.
She nodded and reined d.i.c.k about. Leading the other horse, she rode away through the suns.h.i.+ne that burnished the mesa.
CHAPTER VIII
July pa.s.sed. Followed August, with days likewise hot and unvarying except for a scarcely appreciable r.e.t.a.r.dation of dawn. Perro Creek now showed no water at all in its shallow bed; the garden planted by the Stevensons was long dried up; the sagebrush was dustier than ever; and Bryant and Dave were hauling in a barrel on a sledge water for their use from a pool in the canon.
From daybreak until about eight o'clock in the morning the engineer and his a.s.sistant worked on the ca.n.a.l line. Bryant had run a fict.i.tious survey along the mountain side, staking it out conspicuously for any one to see, to the first of the fenced claims of the Mexican homesteaders, where it ended as if blocked; but his real line on the mesa remained unstaked.
To the low ridge, or spur of ground, projecting from the mountain's base at a point half a mile south of his right of way through the fields, where the ca.n.a.l began its sweep out upon the plain, he gave considerable time. The fall of this at first was sharp, and concrete drops would have to be constructed at intervals for a distance of a mile or so in order to lower the water. When this section was left behind, he advanced rapidly along the line, for the surface of the gentle crescent swell was smooth, its grade fairly regular, and its contour fixed by nature. Essential points he marked by stones, with merely their surfaces exposed, so that if noticed they would be considered scattered pieces of rock from the hills. At the proper time they would const.i.tute guides for later staking.
Evenings Bryant spent in developing his notes and in making tracings of the ca.n.a.l sections covered. During the day hours, when he knew watchful eyes were on him, he made a topographical survey of his ranch; work that he could carry on openly. The five thousand acres comprising the tract had a general direction of east and west, being about four miles long and two miles wide, which for the most part lay equally on each side of Perro Creek. By using the water of this stream during the flood season, a period of some weeks in spring and early summer, Bryant would be able very considerably to augment the supply from the Pinas. It was necessary to join the two sources in a unified system of laterals that would efficiently serve the tract; and therefore the whole enterprise required study, innumerable measurements, calculations of dirt moving, of water distribution, of dam, weir, and gate construction, of soil a.n.a.lysis--a coordination of the thousand and one matters concerned in an irrigation project that are preliminary to breaking ground. So early and late he toiled, and with him Dave Morris.
The boy indeed did enough for a man. And Bryant would sometimes arise from his drawing board where he worked after supper until midnight, to go and affectionately gaze at Dave sleeping the sleep of exhaustion.
One afternoon, when the pair were at work near the southern boundary of the ranch, Ruth Gardner came through the sagebrush to the spot, a mile from Sarita Creek.
”I could see you, just black specks, from our cabins; and since you don't visit us, I made up my mind to visit you,” she announced. ”I've noticed you down here for two days past. Days and days have gone by without you coming to pay another call.”
”Well, we've been sticking pretty steadily at our job,” Bryant replied. ”Won't you use this bag of stakes for a seat? It will keep you off the ground.”
Ruth accepted the proffered resting place and loosened the thongs of her hat, inspected her face in a tiny mirror produced from somewhere, rubbed her nose with a handkerchief, and then gave her attention to her companions.
”Our garden has grown splendidly since you fixed the ditch,” she said.
”Thanks to you. How is yours?”
”It has expired.”
”Then you shall have things out of ours--if you'll come get them. See, I'm using that to decoy you. There are beans, peas, lettuce, radishes, and new potatoes, not very large yet, of course. I know just what you're doing: working hard, eating only canned stuff, skimping your food, and ruining your digestion.”
Bryant laughed. Her tone had expressed indignation, while her face was directly accusatory.
”We seem to have fair health, don't we, Dave?” he remarked.
”You look positively thin,” said she. ”And as for this poor starved shadow that you call Dave! Well, I won't say my thoughts. For a penny I'd invite myself to dinner at your house just to see what you do have.”