Authors: Louis L'amour
The dryness of the cut brush indicated that the wagon had been left there somethin
g
around a month ago, and if the driver of that wagon was not dead, he must be somewher
e
within a radius of three or four miles, and the chances were it would be less.
Where one man stopped another could. That man would need water, grass, a place o
f
hiding or defense. It would be a place, more than likely, where a man could hol
e
up for a while.
While the steeldust cropped at the mesquite brush, Swante Taggart continued to stud
y
the situation, remembering the terrain he had examined so carefully. He had expecte
d
there would be springs near Rockinstraw, and it must be near one of these that th
e
man had located.
At present Taggart was hidden from observation and his horse was contented with th
e
brush. Taking his rifle, canteen, and field glasses, he found a way to the top o
f
the bank and lay down among the rocks and brush.
It was very hot ... no sound disturbed the clear air. The smells of hot, dry gras
s
and mesquite came to him. Shielding the field glasses with his sombrero so they woul
d
not reflect sunlight, he began a careful study of the country ahead of him. But afte
r
some time he had found nothing-no clue, no sign of anything, any object that di
d
not belong, no evidence of a trail anywhere, nothing to indicate the presence o
f
human beings.
Returning to the brush, he loosened the saddle girth and picketed the gelding. The
n
he stretched out in the shade and slept.
No more than an hour had passed when he opened his eyes. Near him the horse dozed.
He got to his feet and, taking the glasses, went back to his former position an
d
began a new study of the country, realizing that a change in the position of th
e
sun would often change the looks of an area in a decided manner.
He should search, but he did not like the idea of leaving tracks around that migh
t
be seen by either Apaches or Pete Shoyer.
More and more his attention was drawn back to Rockinstraw. The mountain loomed abov
e
everything in a country that was almighty broken up. From its peak a man could ge
t
quite a view, but he could also get himself shot at.
By now it was late afternoon. Within an hour or two, if anyone was around they woul
d
be preparing something to eat, and that meant a fire, and a fire meant smoke. Ver
y
little smoke if the fellow used dry wood, but smoke just the same. And smoke coul
d
be smelled and seen.
Swante Taggart rolled a cigarette and lit up. He would wait ... he was sure he wa
s
right. Somebody was hidden close by, and a hiding place that good would be good fo
r
him also.
He would wait.
Chapter
Four.
The Spanish fathers who had located the canyon of the lost mine had mistaken floa
t
for an outcropping, and withou
t
doubt there had been a lot of the float, and some large boulders included. Few o
f
the padres had any knowledge of mining or of the occurrence of ores, and what the
y
found had apparently been broken off from high up on the mountain, from which poin
t
it had rolled or floated down and wedged among other rocks. Later, though realizin
g
their mistake, they had failed to discover the true source of the gold.
Adam Stark knew they had failed because he found evidence of their efforts and thei
r
failure, but he had been more fortunate because he had known considerably more abou
t
mining geology.
Whether the padres had given up and returned to
. M
exico or had been murdered by Apache
s
he had no idea, although he suspected the former. Certainly, there was no evidenc
e
of any battle at the canyon of the chapel. There were no skulls, no human bones o
f
any kind, and no weapons lying about. If they had been killed it would have bee
n
after leaving this place. At no time had he found any Indian remains in the canyo
n
itself.
Considering his own situation, Adam Stark knew that two months at the present rat
e
would leave him with more than a hundred thousand in free gold, all sacked up an
d
ready to take out ... if they lasted that long.
Neither Consuelo or Miriam had ever seen the source of the gold, and he had no intentio
n
that they should. His excuse had been accepted without discussion or apparent curiosity:
t
he fewer tracks in the vicinity, the better.
The truth was that every instant he worked at the vein hi
s
life was in danger, and not from Apaches, but from the nature of the rock itself.
He was undermining the base of a leaning touter of rock that might at any time com
e
down, burying him beneath a heap of rubble.
The ever-present risk of discovery by Apaches or by white outlaws occupied the mind
s
of the two women until all else seemed relatively unimportant. But they lived a day-to-da
y
existence, never allowing these dangers to become a settled fear.
Neither of them considered the problem of the mining itself. To their few question
s
Adam had been casual in comment. "It's slow work," he said, "mainly hacking it ou
t
of the native rock and getting it down the mountain."
He had left it at that, and so had they. The actual fact of the matter was somethin
g
quite different.
In his quest for the gold, Adam Stark had followed the alluvial fan up the side o
f
the mountain. The fan was merely a cascade of rocky debris tumbled down the stee
p
slope as a result of thousands of years of weathering on the heights above.
Struggling upward, compelled to use his hands in places because of the steepnes
s
of the slope, he had come at last to the source of the gold in a band of rotten quart
z
all of six feet wide and cobwebbed with gold.
At a glance he knew the discovery was almost unbelievable, and if it was from broken-of
f
bits of this rock that the padres had taken their gold, he could appreciate wha
t
excitement they must have felt.
Yet even in his moment of success some warning in the beetling brow of cliff kep
t
him from going forward. His innate caution gripped him, and he drew back a littl
e
to examine the situation more carefully. Wary of what he saw, he circled the graniti
c
upthrust and then climbed to the ridge behind it where he could look down upon th
e
roof. What he saw left him dry-mouthed and jittery.
Obviously the upthrust was part of a much older range, one long weathered and worn
,
suffering from shock and twisting
,
until finally this tower of rock had been violently upthrust to leave it standin
g
in shaky ruin among younger and sturdier peaks. In the processes of the past th
e
rock had been shattered and riven by mighty forces until it had become a miner'
s
nightmare.
With enormous wealth here for the taking, every single ounce must be taken at th
e
risk of death. One stick of powder might bring the whole crumbling mass down in
a
heap, and it towered three hundred feet or more above its base. The roof of the mas
s
was riven with cracks, seamed with breaks like the wall of an ancient building lef
t
standing after heavy shelling.
Walking back to the vein, Adam Stark found he could actually break off pieces wit
h
his fingers, and this vein itself lay on the downhill side and at the very base o
f
the tower of rock. The upthrust leaned at such an angle that a man working at th
e
vein would be cutting his way into the very foundation of the tower, and a singl
e
blow might bring the whole mass down upon him.
Furthermore, if the towering mass should fall, even if he were not under it, th
e
vein would be hopelessly buried under thousands of tons of rock and beyond his powe
r
to recover.
Adam Stark had backed off from the pinnacle and, seating himself on a rock, had lighte
d
his pipe. A man might, he reflected, take tons out of there without it collapsin
g
upon him ... or it might come down with the first blow. Yet he knew that, wantin
g
that gold as he did, he had no choice.
In his own mind he was sure Connie loved him as he did her, and he believed tha
t
once she had her chance to see something of the world outside, she would return t
o
what she knew, content to settle down. She was, after all, a Mexican woman, and
a
Mexican woman without a husband is nobody among her people. She becomes an objec
t
of sympathy from some and comtempt from others, and is nothing to herself. If sh
e
does not have a husband she has failed in woman's main objective. He knew that Consuel
o
believed that, and believed it deeply, but hers had been a life of struggle sinc
e
the beginning, and what she wanted was her moment of glamor.
Maybe he was a fool, but he knew that without Consuel
o
nothing made sense, and he wished her to have what she wanted, and he wanted als
o
the pleasure of giving. All of that depended on the gold that lay before him.
Studying the tower of rock, he knew he had already accepted its challenge. He wa
s
going after the gold.
But even as he made his decision, he knew that there were two things he must guar
d
against. The first was tolerance of danger that might bring carelessness, and th
e
second was going back for that little bit more that would kill him.
He would have to make his decision now, and stay with that decision. He must decid
e
on how much he wanted and take no more, but he must always be prepared to quit wit
h
less if the situation demanded.
He wanted a hundred thousand dollars.
It seemed a lot. When he had started this trip he would have been content with te
n
thousand, and until a few minutes ago he would have settled for that much. Now h
e
was already in danger because his demands had risen in accordance with the amoun
t
of gold in sight.
There must be nearly a thousand dollars lying in rocky debris upon the slope righ
t
under the tower, a thousand dollars just for the picking up.
He would take that first. He would gather it, sack it up, take it down to the canyon
,
and get out the gold. Then if anything happened to him, his wife and sister woul
d
still have enough money to take them to wherever they wished to live.
Even then, having made his decision, he did not go forward, but sat there and refille
d
his pipe. The chances were that if the tower collapsed he would be caught beneat
h
it, unless he could get a running start. No man could run in the soft gravel of th
e
upper slope, so he would take slabs of rock and build a walk. Then, if he had a chanc
e
to run he would not be bogged down in sand.
He must be deliberate in all his actions, and he must never forget for an instan
t
the towering mass that loomed above him; for a split second of hesitation would mea
n
death and burial under tons of rock.