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

Phil stirred once or twice, but only to ease his position, and he did it without noise. His eyes were shadedby the brim of his soft hat, but he watched the circleabout the fire, and most of all he watched de Armijo.An interminable period of time passed, every secondgrowing to ten times its proper length. Phil was aswakeful as ever, but so much watching made the figuresabout the fire dim and uncertain. They seemed to shifttheir places, but the boy was still resolved to keep awake, although everybody else slept through the night. Hispremonition was yet with him, his heart expanded, andhis pulse beat faster.

The remaining coals died one by one. The circle oflight, already small, contracted still more, became apoint, and then vanished. Everything now lay in thedark, and the figures were merely blacker shapes againstthe blackness. Then, after that long waiting, with everysecond and minute drawn out tenfold, Phil's premonitioncame true. Something happened.

De Armijo moved. He moved ever so slightly, butPhil saw him, and, lying perfectly still himself, hewatched him with an absorbed attention, and a heart thathad increased its beating still further. De Armijo'sbody itself had not moved, it was merely one hand thathad come slowly from under the covering of the cloak, and that now lay white against the blue cloth. A manmight move his hand thus in sleep, but it seemed to Philthat the action was guided by a conscious mind. Intent,he watched, and presently his reward came. The otherhand also slid from beneath the cloak, and, like itsfellow, lay white against the blue cloth. Now both handswere still, but Phil yet waited, confident that morewould come. It was all very quiet and slow, like thecraft and cunning of the Indian, but Phil was willing tomatch it with a patience and craft of his own.

At last the whole figure of de Armijo stirred. Philsaw the blue cloak tremble slightly. Then the man raisedhis head ever so little and looked about the dark circle.Slowly he let the head fall back, and the figure becamestill again. But the boy was not deceived. Alreadyevery suspicion had been verified in his mind, and hispremonition was proved absolutely true.

Pedro de Armijo raised himself again, but a littlehigher this time, and he did not let his head and bodydrop back. He looked about the circle with a gaze thatPhil knew must be sharp and scrutinizing, although itwas too dark for him to see the expression of his eyes.The Mexican seemed satisfied with his second examination, and then, dropping softly on his hands and knees,he crept toward Middleton. It occurred to Philafterward that this approach toward Middleton did notsurprise him. In reality, it was just what he had expectedde Armijo to do.

The boy was uncertain about his own course, and, likeone under a spell, he waited. The dusky figure of deArmijo creeping toward Middleton had a sinuous motionlike that of a great snake, and Phil's hand slipped downto the hammer of his rifle, but he would not fire. Henoticed that de Armijo had drawn no weapon, and he didnot believe that murder was his intention.

Middleton did not move. He lay easily upon hisright side, and Phil judged that he was in a sound sleep.De Armijo, absorbed in his task, did not look back.Hence he did not see the boy who rose slowly to a sittingposture, a ready rifle in his hands.

Phil saw de Armijo reach Middleton's side and pausethere a moment or two. He still drew no weapon, andthis was further proof that murder was not in theMexican's mind, but Phil believed that whatever lay betweenthese two was now at the edge of the crisis. He saw deArmijo raise his hand and put it to Middleton's breastwith the evident intention of opening his coat. So hewas a thief! But the fingers stopped there as Phil leveledhis rifle and called sharply:

"Hands up, de Armijo, or I shoot!"

The startled Mexican would have thrown up hishands, but he did not have time. They were seized inthe powerful grasp of Middleton, and he was pulleddownward upon his face.

"Ah, would you, de Armijo!" cried Middleton inexultant tones. "We have caught you! Good boy, Phil, you were watching, too!"

"All the others were up in an instant, but Breakstoneand Arenberg were too quick for the Mexicans. They coveredthem with their rifle muzzles before their antagonistscould raise their weapons.

"Throw down every gun and pistol!" said Breakstonesternly. "There, by the log, and we'll see what's goingforward!"

Sullenly the Mexicans complied, and then stood ina little huddled group, looking at their fallen leader, whom Middleton still held upon the ground, but whowas pouring out muffled oaths from a face that was inthe dirt.

"Take his pistols, Phil," said Middleton, and the boypromptly removed them. Then Middleton released him, and de Armijo sat up, his face black as night, his heartraging with anger, hate, and humiliation.

"How dare you attack me in my own camp! Youwhom we received as guests!" he cried.

"We did not attack you," replied Middleton calmly.He had risen to his feet, and he towered over the Mexicanlike an accusing judge. "It is you who attacked us, orme, rather, and you intended, if you did not get whatyou wanted with smooth fingers, to use violence. Youcannot deny that, Captain Pedro de Armijo of theMexican army; there were at least two witnesses of your act,Philip Bedford and myself."

De Armijo looked down at the ground, and seemed tocommune with himself for a few moments. Then hestood at his full height, brushed the traces of dirt fromhis clothes, and gave Middleton a look of uncompromisingdefiance and hostility. All at once it struck Philthat this was a man of ability and energy, one who couldbe a bitter and dangerous enemy.

"You are right in part, Captain Middleton," said deArmijo slowly. "I was seeking to take the maps, letters, and instructions that you carry inside your tunic, next, perhaps, to your very flesh. They would be valuablepossessions to us, and it was my duty, as a captain in theMexican army, to take them if I could, from you, acaptain in the American army."

Phil started and looked anew at Middleton. Acaptain in the American army! This was why he hadwalked with that upright carriage! This was why he hadbeen so particular about his personal appearance! Hebegan to see a little way.

"We, too, have our channels of information," said deArmijo, "and I knew that you had embarked upon amission in the West to learn our movements and forces uponthe border, and our temper and disposition with regardto great matters that are agitating both Mexico andAmerica."

"It is true, all that you say," replied Middletontranquilly. "I am Captain George Middleton of theAmerican regular troops, and, at the request of our WarDepartment, I undertook the hazardous mission of which youspeak."

"You will go no farther with it," said de Armijo.

"How can you keep me from it?"

"I cannot-perhaps, but events can-events have.You do not know, but I do, Captain Middleton, thatthere is war between your country and mine."

"Ah!" exclaimed Middleton, and, despite the darkness,Phil saw a sudden flush spring into his face.

"It is not only war," continued de Armijo, "butthere has been a heavy battle, two of them, in fact. Yourtroops met ours at Palo Alto on May eighth, and againon the following day at Resaca de la Palma."

"Ah!" exclaimed Middleton again, the exclamationbeing drawn up from the very depths of his being, whilethe flush on his face deepened. "And you know, Isuppose, which won?"

It was a peculiar coincidence that the moon's raysmade their way at that moment through clouds, and abright beam fell on the face of Pedro de Armijo. Philsaw the Mexican's face fall a little, despite all his effortsat self-control. De Armijo himself felt this change inhis countenance, and, knowing what it indicated to theman who asked the question, he replied without evasion:

"I regret to say that the fortunes of war were againstthe deserving. Our brave general, Ampudia, and ourgallant troops were compelled to retire before yourgeneral, Taylor. At least, so say my hasty advices; perhapsthey are wrong."

But Phil could see that de Armijo had no such hope.The news was correct, and the boy's heart thrilled with joybecause the first victories had fallen to his own people.

"I would not have told you this," continued deArmijo, "had you not caught me in an attempt to takeyour papers. Had it been peace, 'steal' would have beenthe word, but since it is war 'steal' turns to enterpriseand zeal. Had I not believed you ignorant that the warhas begun, and that I might make more profit out of youin our hands than as a fugitive, or at least as one whomight have escaped, I should have opened fire upon youas you approached. Perhaps I made a mistake."

"All of us do at times," said Middleton thoughtfully.

"Well spoken," said de Armijo. He lighted a cigaretteand took a few easy puffs.

"Well, Captain Middleton," he said at length, "theproblem is now yours, not ours. You have taken it outof our hands. What are you going to do with us?"

"It seems to me," said Captain Middleton, "thatthis problem, like most others, admits of only onesolution. You are our prisoners, but we cannot hold you.Our own situation prevents it. We could kill you, butGod forbid a single thought of such a crime. We willtake your arms and let you go. You will not sufferwithout your arms, as your Comanche friends are near, a factwhich you know very well."

"We accept your terms," said de Armijo, "since wemust, and with your permission we will mount our horsesand ride away. But it is to be understood, CaptainMiddleton, and you, young Mr. Bedford, and the rest of you, that we part as enemies and not as friends."

"As you will," said Middleton. "I recognize the factthat you have no cause to love us, and perhaps the soonerwe both depart from this spot the better it will be for all."

"But we may meet again on the battlefield; is it notso?" said de Armijo.

"That, I cannot tell," replied Middleton, "but it isnot unlikely."

Breakstone and Arenberg still stood by the capturedarms, but, without casting a glance at either the arms ortheir guardians, de Armijo signaled to his men, and theymounted and rode away.

"Adios!" he called back in Spanish, although he didnot turn his face.

"Adios!" said Middleton in the same tone.

They did not move or speak until they heard the hoof-beatsdie away, and then it was Bill Breakstone who firstbroke the silence.

"That certainly came out well," he said. "Thecurtain came down on a finer finish than the first actindicated. I confess that I didn't know your plan, Captain-Idon't call you Cap any more-but I trusted you, and Iconfess, also, that I fell asleep. It was you and SirPhilip of the Active Mind and the Watchful Eye who didmost of the work.

 
"It was in Tex.
We met the Mex.
They spoke so high,
But now they cry.
 

Or, at least, they ought to cry when they think howwe turned the tables on them. Now, Captain, I supposewe must be up and doing, for those fellows, as you said, will go straight to the Comanches, and if we linger hereour scalps will be of less value to ourselves than toanybody else."

"It is quite true," said Captain Middleton. "Wemust reach the train as soon as possible, because thedanger to it has increased with our own. But even moreimportant than that is the great change that must bemade. Woodfall cannot go on now, since the wholeSouthwest will be swept by bands of Mexican and Indianhorsemen."

"What must the train do?" asked Phil in anxiety, because this concerned him very nearly.

"It must turn south and join the American army onthe Rio Grande. Most of the things that it carries willbe of value to our troops, and Woodfall will clear as muchprofit there as at Santa Fé, which is now a city in armsagainst us. In this case the path of comparative safetyand honor is also the path of profit. What more couldWoodfall ask?"

"He's a brave man, and brave men are with him,"said Bill Breakstone. "You won't have to ask himtwice."

Phil's heart had throbbed with joy at Middleton'sanswer. His quest was always in his mind. He had fearedthat they might turn back, but now it suited him as wellto join the American army as to go on toward Santa Fé.The quest was a wide one. But Arenberg suppressed asigh.

"Let's be starting," said Middleton. "We'll taketheir arms with us. They're of value, and Bill, moreover, is without a rifle or musket."

Breakstone, who had been examining the weapons, uttered a cry of joy.

"Here is a fine rifle," he said, "one of the bestAmerican make. I wonder how that Mexican got it!The rest are not so good."

"Take the fine one, Bill," said Middleton, "and wewill pack up the rest and ride."

They were out of the woods in a few minutes, andagain rode rapidly toward the west. It was an easy taskto pick up the great wagon trail again, even in the darkof the night, as the grass and soil were trodden or presseddown over a width of fully two hundred yards. Thecountry rolled lightly. Bill Breakstone thought that arange of hills lay toward the north, but in the night theycould not see.

"I hope that we'll overtake Woodfall before day,"said Middleton, "because I've an idea that de Armijoand the little band with him are not the only Mexicanshereabouts. He would not come so far North without aconsiderable force, and I suspect that it is his intentionto capture our train, with the aid of the Comanches."

"We can beat them off," said Breakstone confidently.

"If our people are warned in time," said Middleton.

"Much harm iss meant," said Arenberg, speakingfor the first time, "but we may keep much from beingdone. Our most dangerous enemies before the daylightcomes are the Comanches. They have already learnedfrom de Armijo that we are here, and it iss like as notthat they are now between us and the train."

Middleton looked at his watch, holding it in themoon's rays.

"It is two hours until day," he said, "and the trailis rapidly growing fresher. We may yet get throughbefore the ring closes. Ah, there they are now!"

A hand's breadth of fire suddenly leaped up in thenorth, and burned there like a steady torch. Far in theeast, another but fainter appeared and burned, and a thirdleaped up in the south. But when they looked back inthe west they saw none.

"Fortune rides on our cruppers so far," said Middleton."We are on the side of the circle which yet has theopen segment. Push on, my boys!"

Phil's knees involuntarily pressed against the side ofhis horse, and that strange sensation, like icy waterrunning down the spine, came again. Those three lightsspeaking to one another in the darkness and across greatdistances were full of mystery and awe. But he rodewithout speech, and he looked most of the time at thelights, which remained fixed, as if what they said couldnot be changed.

Middleton, who was in advance, suddenly reined inhis horse, and the others, stopping, also, noticed that justin front of them a depression ran across the plain.

"It's an arroyo or something like it," said BillBreakstone, "but the wagons have crossed it anyhow."

They followed the trail to the other side and then sawthat it continued almost parallel with the broad gully.

"Why shouldn't we take to the gully?" said Phil."It has a smooth bottom, it is wide enough for us, ridingtwo abreast, and it will give us shelter."

"A good idea," said Middleton.

They turned back into the arroyo, and found an easyroad there. The banks were several feet high, and, as thedusk still hung on the plain, they increased their speed, counting each moment worth one man's life. They camesoon to a place where the gully was shallower than usual, and then they saw two or three faint lights in the plainbefore them, apparently about a half mile away.Middleton raised a warning hand, and they stopped.

"Those are the lights of the train," he said. "Theyundoubtedly have scouts out, and of course they have seenthe signals of the Comanches and the Mexicans, just aswe have, but they do not know as much as we do. Ithink we had better go down the arroyo as far as we can, and then, if the alarm is sounded by our enemies, gallopfor it."

"It iss our choice because there iss none other," saidArenberg.

They continued, but more slowly, in order to make aslittle noise as possible. They had covered more thanhalf the distance when Phil saw a faint line of gray onthe horizon line in the east. The next moment againstthe background of gray appeared a horseman, a man ofolive skin, clad in sombrero, bright jacket, embroideredtrousers, and boots with great spurs. He carried a weaponlike a spear, and Phil knew at once that he was a Mexicanlancer, no doubt a sentinel.

The man saw them, and, instead of attempting to usehis lance, snatched a pistol from his belt and fired pointblank. The bullet passed by Middleton's face, and, likea flash, Bill Breakstone replied with a bullet from hisrifle. The Mexican went down, but from three points ofthe compass came cries, the shouts of the Mexicans andthe long war whoop of the Comanches.

"Forward for your lives!" cried Middleton, and, dashingout of the arroyo, they galloped at full speed towardthe wagon train.

CHAPTER IX
THE FIERY CIRCLE

The thin gray light in the east broadened into a baras the hoofbeats of the four thundered over theplain. From left to right came shouts, the yellsof the Indians and the fierce cries of the Mexicans.

"Bend low," cried Middleton, "and we may escapetheir bullets!"

Phil lay almost upon his horse's neck, but it was anunconscious act. He was thrilling with excitement, asthe four horsemen almost clove the morning mist, androde on swift hoofs straight toward the wagon train.Then came the rattling of rifles and whistling of arrowsfrom either side. "Ping!" the bullets sang in his earand "Ping!" the arrows sang, also. He rememberedafterward that he wished, if he were hit at all, to be hitby a bullet instead of an arrow; an arrow sticking inone's flesh would be very cumbersome and painful. Butneither arrow nor bullet struck true. Their ride was toosudden and swift, and the light too faint to permit goodaim to the Mexicans and Comanches. Yet Phil heardconfused sounds, shouted commands, and the noise ofhurrying feet. He saw dark faces appearing in the miston either side, and he also saw the outlines of wagonsthrough the same mist in front. Then he saw men, riflein hand, who seemed to rise out of the plain in front ofthe wagons. Two of the men raised their rifles and tookaim at the galloping horsemen.

"We are friends, and we bring you warning!"shouted Middleton in a tremendous voice. "Don't fireupon us!"

But the men and three others who appeared near thempulled the trigger. Phil did not hear the ping of thebullets, and now he realized that they fired not at hiscomrades and himself but at those who pursued. Adeath-cry and yells of rage came from behind them, but inanother minute they were within the line of sentinels andwere springing from their horses, ready to take their partin the combat that they expected.

All the morning mists were driven away at thatmoment by the sun, as if a veil had been lifted, and thewhole plain stood out clear and distinct under a brilliantsky. Before them were the wagons, drawn up in a circlein the customary fashion of a camp, the horses and mulesin the center, and the men, arms in hand, forming anouter ring for the wagons. But from the northeast andthe southeast two lines were converging upon them, andPhil's heart kindled at the sight.

The line in the northeast was made up of redhorsemen, four hundred Comanches, naked to the waist, horribly painted, and riding knee to knee, the redoubtablechiefs, Santana and Black Panther, at their head. Theline in the southeast was composed of Mexican cavalry, lancers splendidly mounted, the blades of their lances andtheir embroidered jackets glittering in the sun. Theymade their horses prance and cavort, and many in thefirst rank whirled lariats in derision.

A tall figure strolled forward and welcomed Middletonand his comrades. It was Woodfall, his face flushedsomewhat, but his manner undaunted.

"I'm glad to welcome you back, Mr. Middleton," hesaid, "and with your comrades, all of them alive andwell. But what does this mean? Why do those menride to attack, when this is the soil of Texas?"

He waved his hand toward the advancing Mexicancolumn.

"They advance against us," replied Middleton, "becausethis is war, war between the United States andMexico-we learned that last night from one of their ownofficers-and there have been two heavy battles on the RioGrande, both victorious for us."

It was not strange that a sudden cheer burst from themen who heard these words. Woodfall listened to itgrimly, and, when it died, he said:

"Then if these Mexicans attack, we'll soon have athird victory to our credit. The Indian bow and theMexican lance can't break through a circle of riflemen, entrenched behind wagons-riflemen who know how toshoot."

Again that defiant, even exultant cheer rose from themen who heard, and, passing on like a fire in dry grass,it rolled all around the circle of wagons. The Mexicansheard it. They detected the defiant note in it, and, wisely, they checked their speed. The column of Indianwarriors also came more slowly. Philip Bedford, hardened in so brief a space to danger and war, did not feelany great fear, but the scene thrilled him like a greatpicture painted in living types and colors against thebackground of the earth. There were the red horsemen, thesun deepening the tints of their coppery faces andbringing out the glowing colors of their war bonnets. To thesoutheast the Mexican column, also, was a great ribbonof light lying across the plain, the broad blades of thelances catching the sun's rays and throwing them back ingolden beams.

"A fine show," said Woodfall, "and if those Mexicanshad two or three cannon they might wipe us out, butthey haven't, and so we're lucky."

"I think I ought to tell you, Mr. Woodfall," saidMiddleton, "that I'm a captain in the regular army,Captain Middleton, and that I've been making use ofyour hospitality to find what forces the enemy had inthese parts, and what movements he was making. I wassent by our government, and, as you see, I'm findingwhat I was sent to find."

"I thought there was something military about yourcut, Captain," said Woodfall, "and it seems to me to bea good thing that you are with us. If we've helped youwithout knowing, then you, knowing it, can help us now."

The hands of the two men met in the strong clasp offriendship and trust.

"They're about to move," said Middleton, whopractically took command. "I suggest that we go inside thecircle of wagons now, and that at least two-thirds of ourmen devote their attention to the lancers. The Mexicansare brave; we must not forget that."

They went inside at once, where a few men weredetailed to see that the horses and mules did not make toogreat a turmoil, while the rest posted themselves fordefense. The wagons were in reality a formidable barrierfor an attacking force that did not have artillery. Themajority of the Americans lay down under the wagonsbetween the wheels. Phil was under one of them withBill Breakstone on one side of him and Arenberg on theother. Middleton was elsewhere with Woodfall.

"Much harm iss meant," said Arenberg, "and I wouldsay to you, Philip, although little advice iss needed byyou now, not to fire too soon, and to remember, when youtake aim, to allow for the fact that they are comingtoward us at a gallop."

"That's right," said Bill Breakstone. "Old Hans, here, knows."

"Ach," said Arenberg, uttering a sigh, "I love peace, and I never thought to have a part in cruel Indian andMexican battles."

It occurred to Phil that the sigh had no reference to thecoming combat. The German's face showed sadness, butnot a trace of fear. He turned his gaze from Arenbergand fixed it upon the Mexican column which they werefacing. He thought that he saw de Armijo in the frontrank among the officers in brilliant dress, but he wasnot sure. The distance was too great. He wonderedwhether he would shoot at him, if he saw him later inthe charge.

The sunlight was intensely bright, such as one seesonly on great upland plains, and the Mexican lancerswith their horses stood out, like carving, against thebackground of gold and blue. Phil saw the columnsuddenly quiver, as if a single movement ran through all.The lances were lifted a little higher, and their bladescast broader beams. A flag fluttered in the front rankand unfolded in the slight wind.

The notes of a trumpet sounded high and clear, theMexicans uttered a long, fierce shout, the colors shiftedand changed, like water flowing swiftly, as the columnbroke into a gallop and came straight toward the wagons, the plain thundering with the beat of their hoofs. Fromanother part of the compass came a second cry, higherpitched, longer drawn, and with more of the whine of thewolf in it. Phil knew that it came from the Comanches, who were also charging, led by Black Panther andSantana, but he did not take his eyes from the Mexicans.

The two attacking columns began to fire scatteringshots, but the defenders of the wagons had not yet pulleda trigger, although many a forefinger was trembling witheagerness.

"It's pretty, but it's a waste, a dead waste," said BillBreakstone. "I hate to shoot at them, because I've nodoubt many a brave young fellow is out there, but we'vegot to let them have it. Steady, Phil, steady! They'recoming close now."

Suddenly they heard the loud shout, "Fire!" It wasMiddleton who uttered it, and everybody obeyed. Asheet of flame seemed to spurt from the wagons, and theair was filled with singing lead. The entire head of theMexican column was burnt away. The ground was strewnwith the fallen. Riderless horses, some wounded andscreaming with pain, galloped here and there. Thecolumn stopped and seemed to be wavering. Severalofficers, sword in hand-and now Phil was sure that he sawde Armijo among them-were trying to urge the lancerson. All the Americans were reloading as fast as theycould, and while the Mexicans yet wavered, they pouredin a second volley. Unable to withstand it, the lancersbroke and fled, bearing the officers away with them intheir panic.

Phil, Bill Breakstone, and Arenberg crawled fromunder the wagon and stood on the outside, erect again.There they contemplated for a few moments the wreckthat they and their comrades had made. From theIndian point of attack came the sound of retiring shots, andthey knew that the Comanches had been quickly repulsed, also.

"It was one of the most foolish things I ever saw,"said Bill Breakstone, "to ride right into the mouths oflong-barreled, well-aimed rifles like ours. Their numbersdidn't help them. What say you, Sir Philip of the Rifleand the Wagon?"

"It seems to me that you're right," replied the boy."I don't think they'll charge again, nor will theComanches."

"You're right, too; they've had enough."

The Mexicans and Comanches, having gathered uptheir wounded, united and remained in a dark cloudbeyond rifle shot, apparently intending neither to chargeagain nor to go away. But the defenders of the trainwere cheerful. They had suffered no loss, being protectedso well, and they were willing enough to meet a secondattack delivered in the same fashion. But Middletonand Woodfall had hot coffee and tea served, and thenwith strong field glasses they observed the enemy.

"I believe they are in great doubt," said Middleton."They may think they can starve us out, but theMexicans will not want to wait for so long a process; it islikely that they will prefer going southward to join theirmain army."

He said these words aloud, where many could hear, buta little while afterward he and Woodfall drew to one sideand talked a long time in low tones. Phil could tell bytheir faces that they were very earnest, and he felt surethat a proposition would be made before long. He calledBreakstone's attention to them.

"You're right," said Bill, "they'll have something tosay soon, and it will concern all of us. Ah, there comesthe Cap-I mean the Captain-now, and he's going tomake a speech."

Middleton sprang upon a wagon tongue, and, standingvery quiet, looked slowly around the circle of defenders, all of whom bent their eyes upon him. They were amotley group, Americans mostly, but with a scattering ofa dozen European nationalities among them. Themajority of them were bareheaded, with necks and chestsuncovered, and all were stained black or brown with amixture of perspiration, dust, and burnt gunpowder.The majority of them were young, some but little olderthan Phil himself. They looked very curiously atMiddleton as he stood upon the wagon pole. Already allknew that he was an officer in the regular army. In thedistance hung the dark fringe of Mexicans and Comanches, but, for the moment, only the sentinels paidany attention to them.

"Men," cried Middleton, "you have beaten off theattack of the Mexicans and the Comanches, and you cando it again as often as they come! I know that, and sodo you!"

He was stopped for a few seconds by a great cheer, and then he resumed:

"We can beat them off, but the road to Santa Fé hasnow become impossible. Moreover, the nation withwhich we are at war holds Santa Fé, and to go therewould be merely to march into prison or worse. Wecan't turn back. You are not willing to go back to NewOrleans, are you?"

"Never!" they cried in one voice.

Middleton smiled. He was appealing deftly to thepride of these men, and he had known the response beforeit came.

"Then if we can neither go on to Santa Fé nor turnback to New Orleans," he said, "we must either start tothe north or to the south."

He was speaking now with the greatest fervor. Hisface flushed deeply, and they hung upon his words.

"To the north lies the wilderness," he said, "stretchingaway for thousands of miles to the Arctic Ocean. Tothe south there are plains reaching down to a river, broad, shallow, and yellow, and somewhere along thatriver armies are fighting, armies of our own people andarmies of the Mexicans with whom we are now at war.Which way shall we go, north or south?"

"South!" was roared forth in one tremendous voice.Again Middleton smiled. Again he had known beforeit came the response that would be spoken.