Altsheler Joseph Alexander
The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista

"Then south it is," he said, "and we make forTaylor's army on the Rio Grande. You will find there abetter market for what you carry in your wagons thanyou would have found at Santa Fé, and you're likelyto find something else, also, that I know you won'tshirk."

"Fighting!" roared forth that tremendous voice oncemore.

"Yes, fighting," said Middleton, as he sprang downfrom the pole and rejoined Woodfall.

"That was clever talk," said Bill Breakstone, "but heknew his ground before he sowed the seed. These arejust the sort of lads who will be glad to go south toTaylor, breaking their way through any Mexicans or Indianswho may get across their path.

 
"He said north
He said south,
What's the choice?
We spoke forth,
It was south,
With one voice.
 

And now, unless I'm mightily mistaken, we'll fareforth upon our journey, as the knights of old would say.This is a good camp for defense, but not for siege. Itlacks water. You just watch, Phil, and you'll see awrinkle or two in plains work worth knowing."

The men began to hitch the horses to the wagons, butthey were interrupted in the task by a horseman who rodeforth from the Mexican column, carrying a white handkerchiefon the point of a lance. He was joined by twoIndian chiefs riding on either side of him. Phil instantlyrecognized all three. The white man was Pedro de Armijo, and the Indians were Black Panther and Santana.

"They want a big talk," said Bill Breakstone. "Ifear the Greeks bearing gifts, and also a lot of other peoplewho smile at you while they hold daggers behind theirbacks, but I suppose our side will hear what they have tosay."

Middleton and Woodfall were already mounting toride forth, and Middleton beckoned to Phil.

"Come, Phil," he said. "They are three, and weshould be three, also. You can call yourself the secretaryof the meeting if you like."

Phil sprang eagerly upon his horse, proud of theprivilege and the honor, and rode forth with them. TheMexican and the two Comanches were coming on slowlyand gravely. Four hundred yards behind them, Mexicansand Indians, all on horseback, were now gathered in abroad dark line, sitting motionless and watching. Theirthree envoys sat on their horses midway between thehostile forces, and the three Americans, meeting them there, stopped face to face. De Armijo looked at Middleton andsmiled slightly, ironically. His bearing was proud, andwas evidently meant to be disdainful. One would havethought that he was a victor, receiving an embassy aboutto sue for peace. Middleton returned his gaze steadfastly, but his face expressed nothing. He looked once at Phil, and the boy thought he saw something singular in theglance, as if he impinged somehow upon the mind of theMexican, but in a moment the look of de Armijo passed.

"I have come, Captain Middleton," said the youngMexican, "to save bloodshed, if you are willing to listento reason. You will observe what forces have comeagainst you. We have here a numerous body of Mexicancavalry, the finest in the world, and we have also theflower of the Comanche nation, the bravest of the Indianwarriors. In victory, the Mexicans are humane and merciful, but the Indian nature is different. Excited andimpassioned, it finds vent in terrible deeds. Therefore, asyou are surrounded and cannot escape, we ask you tosurrender now, and save the lives of your men."

It was hard for Phil to restrain an exclamation at thispiece of presumption, but Middleton received it gravely.His face was still without expression. Nevertheless, hisreply was barbed.

"Your demand seems inopportune, Lieutenant deArmijo," he replied. "You can scarcely have forgotten, since it occurred less than an hour ago, the defeat of bothyour cavalry and your Comanche allies. Perhaps we areunduly confident, but we feel that we can do so again, asoften as needed."

De Armijo frowned. He glanced at his Indiancomrades. Phil wondered if he had been deceiving themwith promises of what the invincible Mexican lancerscould and would do. But the two savages made noresponse. Their coppery faces did not move.

"Thus, then, is your final answer, Captain Middleton,"said de Armijo.

"It is," replied Middleton. "It is not the customfor victors to surrender. So we bid you good day,Lieutenant de Armijo."

As he spoke, he saluted and turned his horse. Woodfalland Phil saluted and turned with him. The Mexicanreturned the salute with a gloved hand, but the Indiansturned stolidly without a sign. Then the two partiesrode away in opposite directions, each to its own men.Phil dismounted at the wagons, and was met byBreakstone and Arenberg with eager questions.

"What did that yellow Mex. want, Sir Philip of theCouncil?" asked Breakstone.

"As he has just given us such a severe thrashing,"replied Phil, "he demanded our immediate and unconditionalsurrender. He said that if we acceded to thisdemand only one-tenth of us would be shot, but he made ita special condition that a renowned scout, sharpshooter, white warrior, and talker, one William Breakstone, beshot first and at once, as a terrible example, in thepresence of both victor and vanquished. Immediately afterhim one Hans Arenberg, a very dangerous and blood-thirstyman, was to share the same fate. If we refusedthis gentle alternative, we were all to be killed, and thenscalped by the savages."

"Of course, Sir Philip," said Bill Breakstone,"they've put a just value on me, but I surmise that thejest doth leap from your nimble tongue. Now the truth!"

"De Armijo and the Indian chiefs did really demandour surrender," said Phil. "They said we could notescape. They talked as if they were the victors and wethe beaten."

"Now, by my troth, that is a merry jest!" exclaimedBill Breakstone. "When do we lay down our arms? Isit within the next five minutes, or do we even takefifteen?"

"You can surrender if you want to, Bill," said Phil,"but nobody else has any notion of doing so. The rest,I think, are going to march southward at once, Mexicansor no Mexicans, Comanches or no Comanches."

"Well spoken," said Bill Breakstone, "and I willeven help in the march."

A roar that might easily have been called a shout ofdefiance came from the men of the train, when the storyof the council was told. Then, with increased zeal, theyfell to the work of girding up for the march and battle.The insolent demand of de Armijo added new fire to theircourage. Cheerful voices arose, the rattle of bridle-bits, the occasional neigh of a horse, men singing snatches ofsong, generally lines from sentimental ballads, and theclink of bullets as they were counted and dropped intotheir pouches. Some of these sounds were of war, butPhil found the whole effect buoyant and encouraging.He caught the spirit, and whistled a lilting air as he, too, worked by the side of Bill Breakstone.

The boy soon saw the plan. Gradually the circle ofwagons formed itself into two parallel lines, the noses ofthe horses or mules almost touching the rear of the wagonin front of them. Outside and on either side, but close tothe wagons, rode the armed horsemen, two formidablelines, who, if hard pressed, could take refuge and shelterbetween the parallel rows of wagons. Moreover, thewagons handled by such cool and skillful men could be turnedin a crisis, and even under fire, into a circle again, withthe animals in the center. Phil understood the arrangementthoroughly, admired it tremendously, and was surethat the master mind of Middleton had directed everything.He glanced at the Mexicans and Comanches.They were still hovering in a great dark mass about athousand yards away, and Phil knew that they were watchingevery movement of the Americans with the mostintense curiosity.

Middleton and Woodfall rode to the head of the train.The loud command: "March!" was given. Every drivercracked his whip at the same time, the whole making areport like the sudden crash of many rifles, and the trainbegan to move slowly across the plain, every armed manon either side holding his finger on the trigger of his rifle.

Phil was just behind Bill Breakstone, and both of themlooked back at the enemy. Phil wondered what theMexicans and Comanches would do, but he did not believe theywould allow the train to depart unmolested, despite thefact that their face had already been well burned. Hesaw the hostile columns advance at about an even pacewith the train, but he judged that there was uncertaintyin their ranks. The Americans bore a certain resemblanceto a modern armored train, and such men as deArmijo, Black Panther, and Santana were wary, despitetheir great excess of numbers.

The train moved forward at a slow but steady pace, but now its head was turned almost due south instead ofwest. Before them rolled the plains as usual, green witha grass not yet dried by the summer suns. Here andthere appeared strange flowering shrubs, peculiar to theTexas uplands, but no trees broke the view. The plainsrolled away until they died under the horizon of reddishgold that seemed an interminable distance away. Therewas little sound now but that of the turning wheels, thecreaking of the axles, and the hoofbeats of many scoresof horses and mules. The men were almost completelysilent, and this silence, in itself, was strange, because thevery atmosphere was impregnated with war. At anymoment they might be in deadly conflict; yet they rodeon, saying nothing.

Behind them came the Mexicans and Comanches in adouble column, preserving the same distance of abouta thousand yards, they, too, riding in silence, save fortheir hoofbeats. The dead evidently had been left asthey fell or put in hasty graves, while the wounded werecarried on horses in the rear. Phil looked back again andagain at this singular pursuit, which, for the present, seemed no pursuit at all-at least, not hostile. Itreminded him of the silent but tenacious manner in whichwolves followed a great deer. While fearing his antlersand sharp hoofs, they would hang on and hang on, andin the end would drag down the quarry. Would that bethe fate of the train?

"It's pretty good country for traveling," said BillBreakstone cheerily, "and I don't see that anything isinterrupting us. Except that we pass over one swell afteranother, the road is smooth and easy. What fine grassyplains these are, Phil, and look! yonder are antelopesgrazing to the north of us. They've raised their heads tosee, if they can, what we are, and what is that crowdbehind us. They're just eaten up with curiosity."

Phil saw the herd of antelope come nearer. They wereon a swell, in black silhouette against a red sun, and theywere exaggerated to three or four times their real size.Phil was something of a philosopher, and he reflectedthat they were safe in the presence of so many men, because the men were not seeking game, but one another.The train moved on, and the herd of antelope droppedbehind and out of sight. Still there was no demonstrationfrom the enemy, who yet came on, in two columns,at the same distance of about a thousand yards, thesunlight gleaming on the lances of both Mexicans andComanches. It began to seem to Phil as if they wouldalways continue thus. Nevertheless, it was hard on thenerves, this incessant watching, as if one were guardingagainst a beast that might spring at any moment. Moreover, their force looked so large. But Phil glanced at thelong-barreled rifles that the men of the train carried.They had proved far more than a match for muskets andlances.

"Will they attack us?" he asked Arenberg.

"Much harm iss meant," replied the German, "butthey will not seek to do it until they think they see achance. It iss time only that will tell."

The extraordinary march lasted all day. Neither sidecommitted a single hostile act, and the silence, so far asthe men were concerned, was unbroken. The distance ofabout a thousand yards was preserved, but the Mexicansand Comanches were still there, and it seemed that theydid not intend to be shaken off. About sunset they cameto one of the shallow prairie streams, this time a merebrook, but with plenty of water for their animals.

"Here we camp," said Bill Breakstone, and almostas he spoke Middleton gave the word. One line ofwagons went forward, the other stopped, the two ends joined, and then they swung around in a circle, with the streamflowing down the center of the enclosure. It was all donewith so much celerity and so little trouble that theMexicans and Comanches seemed to be taken by surprise. Afew of them rode nearer, and some of the Comanches firedarrows, but they fell far short, and the Americans paidno attention to them.

"We'll take a bite and a drink, Phil," said BillBreakstone, "a bite of cold meat and a drink of coldwater."

"It iss good," said Arenberg. "That iss what wewill do."

They had no fuel with which to light fires, but therewere lanterns carrying candles in the train, and these werehung on the sides of the wagons facing the inner ring, casting a pleasant light on the men as they passed. ButPhil and his two comrades, food in hand, went outside.

"Hope it won't come on too dark," said Breakstone."A thick night is what we've got to dread. If our friendsout there mean to do anything, they'll try it to-night, orI'm mightily fooled."

In the east, where the enemy hung, the twilight hadcome already and now both Mexicans and Comancheswere blurring with the darkness. A lance blade or twogave back a last flash of fire from the setting sun, but ina few more instants the rays ceased to reach them, andthey sank into the night of the eastern plain.

"Feels damp, and that's bad," said Bill Breakstone."Clouds mean a thick night, and a thick night means alot of stalking and sniping by those rascals out there.Well, well, lay on, Macduff, and it won't be we who willfirst cry, 'Hold, enough!'"

The twilight soon deepened into dark, the wind rose alittle, and, as Breakstone had feared, it brought with itshifts of rain, light showers only, but cold and veryunpleasant. Only a few of the most hardened slept. Allthe others kept vigilant watch about the wagons. Phil,Breakstone, and Arenberg remained together, andnothing happened until nearly midnight. Then the mixedforce of the enemy, creeping near, opened fire from everyside, but the American sharpshooters lying down on theground replied, firing at the flashes. This combat lastednearly half an hour, and it was more spectacular thandangerous to the defenders.

"This is drawn out rather long and produces nothing,Sir Philip of the Midnight, the Wilderness, and theRain," said Bill Breakstone, "and with our long rangerifles we have the advantage. They're merely wastinggood lead. Ah, I think I must have got that fellow! Ihope it was one of those sneaking Comanches, and, ifso, he deserves it for keeping me here on the ground inthe rain, when I ought to be snoozing comfortably in awagon."

He had fired at a flash about a hundred yards away, and his own fire drew shots from different points. Philheard bullets whistling over his head, but, as they werehugging the earth very closely, he did not feel any greatalarm over such blind shooting.

The firing increased a little presently, and now itseffect upon the boy was wholly spectacular. He watchedfor the points of flame as one would for fireworks.Sometimes the flashes looked blue, sometimes yellow, andsometimes red. At other times they showed variations andnew combinations of all three colors.

"Since one has to watch, it's rather pretty, and itbreaks the monotony," said Bill Breakstone. "Now, Ithink our little display of fireworks is ceasing."

Bill was a good prophet, because the firing quicklysank to a few scattered shots, and then to nothing. Afterthat, they lay in the darkness and silence for a long time.Phil was wet and cold, and he longed for a warm blanketand the shelter of a wagon, but he was not one to flinch.As long as those two skilled plainsmen, Breakstone andArenberg, thought it necessary to remain, he wouldremain without a complaint. He also expected that someother hostile movement would be made.

At some late hour of the night the boy heard the rapidbeat of many hoofs, and then a mass of horsemen showeddimly in the dusk, dark squadrons galloping down uponthe train. But the riflemen were ready. The trainbecame at once a living circle of fire. A storm of bulletsbeat upon the charging horsemen, and fifty yards fromthe barrier they halted. There they wavered a fewmoments, while wounded horses screamed with pain, thenturned and galloped back as fast as they had come.

"That's the fall of the curtain on the last act," saidBill Breakstone. "They thought to catch us napping, tostampede our horses, or to do something else unpleasantto us that depended on surprise."

Nevertheless, they watched all the remainder of thenight, and Phil was devoutly glad when he saw the firsttouch of rose in the east, the herald of the new day.Before them the plain lay clear, except a fallen horse nearby, and there was no sign of the enemy.

"They have had enough," said Bill Breakstone."The darkness offered them their only chance, and nowthe sunrise has put them to flight.

 
"Night,
Fight.
Sun,
Done.
 

"That's a short poem, Phil, one of the shortest thatI've ever composed, but it's highly descriptive, and it'strue."

It was true. Middleton and Woodfall, even whenthey searched the entire circle of the horizon withpowerful field glasses, could find no trace of the enemy.

CHAPTER X
PHIL'S LETTER

Now began the great march. The whole train wasfilled with an extraordinary animation. South toTaylor! South to the Rio Grande! South to jointhe forlorn hope against the Mexican masses! Itappealed to them more than Santa Fé had ever appealed.Wild spirits, thrilling with the love of adventure and thehope of battle, they had before them the story of Texasand its gallant and victorious stand against overwhelmingnumbers. They knew every detail of that desperate andsuccessful struggle, and they felt that they could do as well.Indeed, among them were some who had been mere boysat San Jacinto, and they began to talk of Sam Houstonand that glorious war, of Goliad and of the Alamo, whenthe last man fell.

But while they talked they worked. In their zeal andenthusiasm they forgot that not one man in ten hadclosed his eyes the night before, and, a half hour after thebrief breakfast was finished, they started again. It wasa long journey, but they were prepared for it, and theymoved steadily onward all through the day. Two orthree times single horsemen were seen through the fieldglasses, but they were so far away none could tell whetherthey were Indians or Mexicans. Middleton, however, was firmly convinced that they would not be attackedagain, at least not by the same forces which had beenmaking so much trouble for them.

"There isn't much profit in hunting us," he said,"we are too difficult game, and the hunter has sufferedmore damage than the hunted. Moreover, de Armijo willwant to join the main Mexican army near the Rio Grande.More glory is to be won there, and, if I mistake not, heis an exceedingly ambitious man. But the Comancheswill leave so formidable a foe to snap up wanderinghunters or small parties."

Middleton's theory seemed probable, but they did notrelax the watch. That night half the men stood guarduntil midnight, and the other half until morning. Thewhole night passed in complete peace. There was not asingle shot at the sentinels. The only sounds they heardwere the lonesome howls of coyotes far out on the plain.Phil, Breakstone, and Arenberg were in the first watch, and they walked back and forth together in a littlesegment of the circle about thirty yards from the wagons.They talked more than usual, as they shared in the generalbelief that there would be no further attack, at least, not yet.

The night, in truth, was in sharp contrast with theone that had preceded it. There was no rain and nowind, the sky was just a peaceful blue, cut by the whitebelt of the Milky Way, and with the great stars dancingin myriad pools of light. Strife and battle seemed faraway and forgotten.

"It will take us a long time to reach General Tayloron the Rio Grande or beyond, where he iss likely to be,"said Arenberg.

"A couple of months, maybe," said Breakstone.

"And then," continued Arenberg, "we do not knowhow long we will have to stay there. We do not knowwhat great battles we will have to fight, and if we livethrough it all it may be a year, two years, until we cancome back into the North."

"Not so long as that, I think," replied Breakstone.

Phil noticed Arenberg's melancholy tone, and oncemore he wondered what this man's quest might be.Evidently it did not lie to the south, for to him alonethe turning from the old course had caused pain. Hecould not keep from showing sympathy.

"I feel that all of us will come back sooner or later,Mr. Arenberg," he said, "and we will go on in the waywe chose first, and to success."

The German put his hand affectionately on the boy'sshoulder.

"There are no prophets in these days," he said, "butnow and then there iss a prophecy that comes true, and itmay be that our God puts it in the mouth of a boy likeyou, instead of that of an older man. You strengthenmy weak faith, Philip."

His tone was so solemn and heartfelt that the othertwo were silent. Surely the motive that drew Arenberginto the wilderness was a most powerful one! They couldnot doubt it. They walked without saying more until itwas twelve when Bill Breakstone dropped his rifle fromhis shoulder with a great sigh of relief.

"It's just occurred to me that I haven't slept a winkfor thirty-six hours," he said, "and I'm going to makeup for lost time as soon as I can."

"Me, too," said Phil.

"Much sleep iss meant by me, also," said Arenberg.

Phil concluded to sleep in a wagon that night, and,in order to enjoy the full luxury of rest, he undressed forthe first time in several days. Then he found a soft placein some bags of meal, covered himself with a blanket, and shut his eyes.

He had a wonderful sense of safety and comfort.After so much hardship and danger, this was like aking's bed, and the royal guards were outside to keepaway harm. It was extraordinary how some sacks offlour and an army blanket could lull one's senses intogolden ease.

He heard a few noises outside, a sentinel exchanginga word with another, the stamp of a restless horse's hoof, and then, for the last time, the long, lonesome howl ofthe coyote. A minute after that he was asleep. Whenhe awoke the next day he felt that he was moving. Heheard the cracking of whips and the sound of manyvoices. He sprang up, lifted the edge of the wagoncover, and looked out. There was the whole train, moving along at its steady, even pace, and a yellow sun, atleast four hours high, was sailing peacefully in blueheavens. Phil, ashamed of himself, hurried on his clothesand sprang out of his wagon at the rear. The first manhe saw was Bill Breakstone, who was walking instead ofriding.

"Bill," he exclaimed indignantly, "here I've beensleeping all the morning, while the rest of you fellowshave been up and doing!"

"Don't you worry yourself, Sir Philip of the Wagonand the Great Sleep," replied Bill Breakstone grinning."A good wilderness rover rests when he can, and doesn'trest when he can't. Now you could rest, and it was theright thing for you to do. I haven't been up myselfmore than half an hour, while Captain Middleton andArenberg are still asleep. Now, my merry young sir, Ihope that will satisfy you."

"It does," replied Phil, his conscience satisfied, "andbetween you and me, Bill, it seems to me that we havecome out of our troubles so far mighty well."

"We have," replied Bill Breakstone emphatically."The curtain has gone down on act one, with honestand deserving fellows like you and myself on top. Acttwo hasn't begun yet, but meanwhile the winds blowsoftly, the air is pure, and we'll enjoy ourselves."

"Have you seen anything of our Comanche and Mexicanfriends?"

"Not a peep. We're marching in looser order now, because if they came we'd have ample time to form inbattle array after we saw them."

But no enemy appeared that day nor the next day, and they rode south for many days in peace. Althougheager to reach the Rio Grande as soon as possible, theywere too wise to hurry the animals. The steady, measured pace was never broken, and they took full rest atnight. They stopped sometimes to kill game and replenishtheir supplies of food. They found plenty of buffalo, and the most skillful of the hunters also secured all theantelope that they wished. Now and then they crossed ariver that contained fish, and they added to their storesfrom these, also.

They were now far into the summer, but the grass wasstill green, although the heat at times was great, andrain fell but seldom. The character of the vegetationchanged as they went south. Bill Breakstone defined itas an increase of thorns. The cactus stood up in strangeshapes on the plain, but along the banks of the creeksthey found many berries that were good to the taste.Four weeks after the turn to the south they met twomessengers coming from the direction of Santa Fé and boundfor the mouth of the Rio Grande. They were Americansoldiers in civilian dress whom Middleton knew, andwith whom it had evidently been a part of his plan tocommunicate. He received from them important news, over which he pondered long, but, some time after thetwo men had disappeared under the horizon to theeastward, he spoke of it to Phil, Breakstone, and Arenberg.

"They have heard much," he said, "but it comeslargely through Mexican channels. It is said that anAmerican force from one of the Western States is movingon Santa Fé, and that it is likely to fall into our hands.It is said, also, that Taylor's advance into Mexico hasbeen stopped, and that another army under Scott is to goby sea to Vera Cruz, and thence attempt to capture theCity of Mexico. I don't know! I don't know what itall means! Can it be possible that Taylor has been beatenand driven back? But we shall see!"

"I know Taylor can't have been beaten," said Phil;"but I'll be mighty glad when we reach the Rio Grandeand find out for sure everything that is going on."

"That's so," said Bill Breakstone.

 
"News is contrary,
But we'll go;
Our views vary,
But we'll know.
 

Although we'll have to wait a long time about it, asTexas runs on forever."

The tenor of the messages soon spread through thetrain, and increased the desire to push on; yet neitherMiddleton nor Woodfall deemed it wise to give theanimals too great a task for fear of breaking them down.Instead, they resolutely maintained their even pace, andbearing now to the eastward, still sought that Great Riverof the North which is greater in history and politicalimportance than it is in water.

The time, despite the anxieties that they all shared, was not unpleasant to Phil. He enjoyed the free life ofthe wilderness and the vast plains. He saw how menwere knitted together by common hardship and commondanger. He knew every man and liked them all; hence, all liked him. He could never meet one of them in afterlife without a throb of emotion, a sense of greatfellowship, and a sudden vivid picture of those days risingbefore him. He also learned many things that were ofvalue. He knew how to mend any part of a wagon, heunderstood the troubles of horses, and he could handle amule with a tact and skill that were almost uncanny.

"I suppose that mules, being by nature contraryanimals, like Phil," said Bill Breakstone. "I've alwaysbehaved decently toward them, but I never knew one yetto like me."

"You want to treat a mule not like an animal but likea human being," said Arenberg. "They know morethan most men, anyhow. It iss all in the way youapproach them. I know how it ought to be done, althoughI can't always do it."

Many such talks beguiled the way. Meanwhile Philcould fairly feel himself growing in size and strength, and he longed like the others for the sight of Taylor andhis army. The idea of taking part in a great war thrilledhim, and it might also help him in his search. Meanwhile, the summer waned, and they were still in Texas.It seemed that they might ride on forever and yet notreach that famous Rio Grande. The grass turned brownon the plains, the nights grew cooler, and two northerschilled them to the bone. Several times they sawComanches hovering like tiny black figures against thehorizon, but they never came near enough for a rifle shot.Twice they met hunters and scouts who confirmed theearlier news obtained from the two messengers from thewestward. Taylor, beyond a doubt, had halted ahundred and fifty or two hundred miles beyond the RioGrande. There was even a rumor that he had beencaptured. This might or might not be true, but there wasno doubt of the fact that an advance on the City ofMexico, due southward by land, was no longer intended.The report that Scott was to lead the army by way of VeraCruz was confirmed. Middleton was troubled greatly, asPhil could see.

"I don't like the looks of this," he confided to histhree most intimate associates, who, of course, were Phil,Bill Breakstone, and Arenberg. "I can't believe thatTaylor has been taken-he isn't that kind of a man-butthis stripping him of his forces to strengthen Scott willleave him almost unarmed before a powerful enemy."

Phil saw the cogency of his reasoning. Deeplypatriotic, his private motives could not rule him wholly inthe face of such an emergency. He longed with a mostintense longing now for a sight of the Rio Grande. Agreat battle often hung in such an even balance that a fewmen might turn the scale. The brave and resolute twohundred with the train were a force not to be despised, even where thousands were gathered. The leaders, alsofelt the impulse. Despite caution and calculation, thespeed of the train was increased. They started a littleearlier every morning, and they stopped a little laterevery evening. Yet there were delays. Once they hada smart skirmish with Mexican guerillas, and once aComanche force, which did little but distant firing, heldthem three days. Then a large number of their animals, spent by the long march, fell sick, and they werecompelled to delay again.

The summer waned and passed. The grass was quitedead above ground, although the roots flourished below.The cactus increased in quantity. Often it pointed longmelancholy arms southward as if to indicate thatmisfortune lay that way. The great silence settled about themagain. There were no Indians, no Mexicans, no scouts,no hunters. Phil's thoughts reverted to his originalquest. One day as he sat in the wagon he took the wornpaper from the inside pocket of his waistcoat and read itfor the thousandth time. He was about to hold it upand put it back in its resting place, when BillBreakstone, seeking an hour or so of rest, sprang into thewagon, also. It was Phil's first impulse to thrust thepaper quickly out of sight, and Bill Breakstone, withinnate delicacy, pretended not to see, merely settlinghimself, with a cheerful word or two, into a comfortable seat.But Phil's second thought was the exact opposite. Hewithheld his hand and opened the worn and soiled paper.