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place, if one forgot the Indians, but being an Indian, he did not forget.
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As he waited for darkness he located one by one the hiding places of the
Indians. Most of them would bunch together now, but a few would remain where
they were, and that pleased him.
He watched the first stars appear, and then he got up.
Chapter XII
DARKNESS BROUGHT PEACE to the basin called High Lonesome. Somewhere a quail
called, a lonely, pleading call.
Considine leaned against a rock and sipped the scalding coffee. It tasted
good, and he took his time with it, relishing each swallow. His stomach was
empty, and he could not recall when he had last eaten.
Across the small circle Dutch andSpanyer lay side by side, sleeping.
Hardy had found a high perch among the rocks where he could see all around,
so far as the darkness permitted, but where he could not be reached by any
prowling Indian with a knife.
Lennieworked over the fire, making a broth from jerked beef, throwing in some
squaw cabbage and wild potatoes. There was no light but the red glow of the
fire, purposely kept small, invisible outside the circle. A faint breeze came
between the rocks and fanned the embers, and for a moment a blaze leaped up,
lighting the girl's face. She turned her head and saw Considine watching her.
Their eyes held, and then she looked away.
Up on the rock, Hardy shifted his feet. "Wonder what became of the Kiowa?" he
said.
Considine shifted his shoulders, trying to find a better place to lean than
the sharp rock where they were.
Hardy answered his own question. "Mexico, I reckon."
"Not the Kiowa. That Indian loves a fight."
Hardy made no comment. After a moment he asked, "How many do you think are
out there?"
"Dozen to twenty.There'll be more, come daybreak."
Hardy thought of the bags of gold.Sixty thousand in gold.He had never seen so
much money. Yet he would gladly have shared it with a dozen if they were here
to help.
He looked around, although he could see nothing. So this was High Lonesome.
He had heard of it. Another canyon led out of the basin toward the southeast
... he had seen the opening.
"HalfmoonValley," Considine said, in reply to a question from Hardy."Opens
into a wide valley and a straight shot intoMexico ."
Lenniepassed a cup full of stew up to Hardy, and gave another to Considine.
He took his and went back to the rocks. The Apache does not like to fight at
night, but some of those Indians out there were renegades from other tribes,
and he did not trust them.
Lenniewas beside him before he realized it. "It is so quiet!" she said.
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"They're out there."
"Do you think we can hold them off?"
"Maybe."
He ate the stew slowly, enjoying every mouthful. But while he ate, he
listened.
"I'm glad you're here," she said.
"Well ..." he was at a loss for words "I came."
They were standing close together in the darkness, each conscious of the
other, yet wanting no more than this now.
The call of an owl quaveredlonesomely in the night.Then again.
"Don't the Indians frighten them away?"Lennie asked.
"That was an Indian."
"That owl?How can you tell?"
"Something in the tone.Any sound a man makes will echo. A real owl's call has
some quality a man can't put into it ... its call doesn't echo."
Suddenly there was a shrill, high-pitched scream, breaking off sharply.Lennie
turned in startled horror.
"What ... what wasthat?"
"A man died."
Her father came up beside them in the darkness. "Did you hear that?" he
asked.
"Uh-huh."
There was no further sound. After a few minutes Considine said toSpanyer ,
just loud enough for Hardy to hear too. "The Kiowa is out there."
"The Injun?"DaveSpanyer looked around.
"Could be."
His eyes searched forConsidine's in the darkness. "You think they got him?"
"No, he got one of them ... maybe more. Maybe only one of them had a chance
to yell."
There was no further sound. The wind rose, and after a while Hardy came down
from his perch and wakened Dutch. DaveSpanyer tookConsidine's place, and the
two younger men turned in.
Lenniewatched them roll up in their blankets,then prepared stew for the two
older men.
Considine opened his eyes in the gray of morning. The sky was overcast and
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dull. He sat up, combing his dark hair with his fingers,then reaching for his
boots.Spanyer was standing guard at a place where he could watch a wide area,
andLennie was asleep on her blankets. Dutch was nowhere in sight.
The grass seemed gray, the trees were a wall of darkness,the brush was black.
It was shivering cold. Standing up, Considine slung his gun belt about his
lean hips and picked up hisWinchester . He checked his guns, one by one.
"Quiet?"
Spanyernodded."Yeah ... too quiet." Considine saw Dutch then. The big man was
wedged between two rocks, somewhat forward of their position. Dutch motioned
and Considine ducked behind a rock and went up to him, crouching low. "What do
you make of that?" Dutch indicated an Indian, standing bolt upright and still
on the edge of the brush. He seemed, at this distance, unnaturally tall.
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