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night。 I heard 'em first in the creek； when they came to tell the
old man to move farther off。 They came nearer and nearer。 They
whispered under the door； and I saw their eyes on the steptheir
cruel； hard eyes。 Ah； why don't they quit？〃
I tell the men to search the room and see if they can find any
further traces of the family； while Tryan resumes his old attitude。
It is so much like the figure I remember on the breezy night that a
superstitious feeling is fast overcoming me。 When they have
returned； I tell them briefly what I know of him； and the old man
murmurs again：
〃Why don't they quit； then？ They have the stockall gonegone；
gone for the hides and hoofs；〃 and he groans bitterly。
〃There are other boats below us。 The shanty cannot have drifted
far； and perhaps the family are safe by this time；〃 says the
coxswain； hopefully。
We lift the old man up； for he is quite helpless； and carry him to
the boat。 He is still grasping the Bible in his right hand； though
its strengthening grace is blank to his vacant eye； and he cowers
in the stern as we pull slowly to the steamer while a pale gleam in
the sky shows the coming day。
I was weary with excitement； and when we reached the steamer； and I
had seen Joseph Tryan comfortably bestowed； I wrapped myself in a
blanket near the boiler and presently fell asleep。 But even then
the figure of the old man often started before me； and a sense of
uneasiness about George made a strong undercurrent to my drifting
dreams。 I was awakened at about eight o'clock in the morning by
the engineer； who told me one of the old man's sons had been picked
up and was now on board。
〃Is it George Tryan？〃 I ask quickly。
〃Don't know； but he's a sweet one； whoever he is；〃 adds the
engineer； with a smile at some luscious remembrance。 〃You'll find
him for'ard。〃
I hurry to the bow of the boat； and find； not George； but the
irrepressible Wise； sitting on a coil of rope； a little dirtier and
rather more dilapidated than I can remember having seen him。
He is examining； with apparent admiration； some rough； dry clothes
that have been put out for his disposal。 I cannot help thinking
that circumstances have somewhat exalted his usual cheerfulness。
He puts me at my ease by at once addressing me：
〃These are high old times； ain't they？ I say； what do you reckon's
become o' them thar bound'ry moniments you stuck？ Ah！〃
The pause which succeeds this outburst is the effect of a spasm of
admiration at a pair of high boots； which； by great exertion； he
has at last pulled on his feet。
〃So you've picked up the ole man in the shanty； clean crazy？ He
must have been soft to have stuck there instead o' leavin' with the
old woman。 Didn't know me from Adam； took me for George！〃
At this affecting instance of paternal forgetfulness； Wise was
evidently divided between amusement and chagrin。 I took advantage
of the contending emotions to ask about George。
〃Don't know whar he is！ If he'd tended stock instead of running
about the prairie； packin' off wimmin and children； he might have
saved suthin。 He lost every hoof and hide； I'll bet a cooky！ Say
you；〃 to a passing boatman； 〃when are you goin' to give us some
grub？ I'm hungry 'nough to skin and eat a hoss。 Reckon I'll turn
butcher when things is dried up； and save hides； horns； and
taller。〃
I could not but admire this indomitable energy； which under softer
climatic influences might have borne such goodly fruit。
〃Have you any idea what you'll do； Wise？〃 I ask。
〃Thar ain't much to do now；〃 says the practical young man。 〃I'll
have to lay over a spell； I reckon； till things comes straight。
The land ain't worth much now； and won't be； I dessay； for some
time。 Wonder whar the ole man'll drive stakes next。〃
〃I meant as to your father and George； Wise。〃
〃Oh； the old man and I'll go on to 'Miles's；' whar Tom packed the
old woman and babies last week。 George'll turn up somewhar atween
this and Altascar's ef he ain't thar now。〃
I ask how the Altascars have suffered。
〃Well； I reckon he ain't lost much in stock。 I shouldn't wonder if
George helped him drive 'em up the foothills。 And his casa's built
too high。 Oh； thar ain't any water thar； you bet。 Ah；〃 says Wise；
with reflective admiration； 〃those greasers ain't the darned fools
people thinks 'em。 I'll bet thar ain't one swamped out in all 'er
Californy。〃 But the appearance of 〃grub〃 cut this rhapsody short。
〃I shall keep on a little farther；〃 I say； 〃and try to find
George。〃
Wise stared a moment at this eccentricity until a new light dawned
upon him。
〃I don't think you'll save much。 What's the percentageworkin' on
shares； eh！〃
I answer that I am only curious； which I feel lessens his opinion
of me； and with a sadder feeling than his assurance of George's
safety might warrant； I walked away。
From others whom we picked up from time to time we heard of
George's self…sacrificing devotion； with the praises of the many he
had helped and rescued。 But I did not feel disposed to return
until I had seen him； and soon prepared myself to take a boat to
the lower VALDA of the foothills； and visit Altascar。 I soon
perfected my arrangements； bade farewell to Wise； and took a last
look at the old man； who was sitting by the furnace fires quite
passive and composed。 Then our boat head swung round； pulled by
sturdy and willing hands。
It was again raining； and a disagreeable wind had risen。 Our
course lay nearly west； and we soon knew by the strong current that
we were in the creek of the Espiritu Santo。 From time to time the
wrecks of barns were seen； and we passed many half…submerged
willows hung with farming implements。
We emerge at last into a broad silent sea。 It is the 〃LLANO DE
ESPIRITU SANTO。〃 As the wind whistles by me； piling the shallower
fresh water into mimic waves； I go back； in fancy； to the long ride
of October over that boundless plain； and recall the sharp outlines
of the distant hills； which are now lost in the lowering clouds。
The men are rowing silently； and I find my mind； released from its
tension； growing benumbed and depressed as then。 The water； too；
is getting more shallow as we leave the banks of the creek； and
with my hand dipped listlessly over the thwarts； I detect the tops
of chimisal； which shows the tide to have somewhat fallen。 There
is a black mound； bearing to the north of the line of alder； making
an adverse current； which； as we sweep to the right to avoid； I
recognize。 We pull close alongside and I call to the men to stop。
There was a stake driven near its summit with the initials； 〃L。 E。
S。 I。〃 Tied halfway down was a curiously worked riata。 It was
George's。 It had been cut with some sharp instrument； and the
loose gravelly soil of the mound was deeply dented with horses'
hoofs。 The stake was covered with horsehairs。 It was a record；
but no clue。
The wind had grown more violent as we still fought our way forward；
resting and rowing by turns； and oftener 〃poling〃 the shallower
surface； but the old VALDA； or bench； is still distant。 My
recollection of the old survey enables me to guess the relative
position of the meanderings of the creek； and an occasional simple
professional experiment to determine the distance gives my crew the
fullest faith in my ability。 Night overtakes us in our impeded
progress。 Our condition looks more dangerous than it really is；
but I urge the men； many of whom are still new in this mode of
navigation； to greater exertion by assurance of perfect safety and
speedy relief ahead。 We go on in this way until about eight
o'clock； and ground by the willows。 We have a muddy walk for a few
hundred yards before we strike a dry trail； and simultaneously the
white walls of Altascar's appear like a snowbank before us。 Lights
are moving in the courtyard； but otherwise the old tomblike repose
characterizes the building。
One of the peons recognized me as I entered the court； and Altascar
met me on the corridor。
I was too weak to do more than beg his hospitality for the men who
had dragged wearily with me。 He looked at my hand； which still
unconsciously held the broken riata。 I began； wearily； to tell him
about George and my fears； but with a gentler courtesy than was
even his wont； he gravely laid his hand on my shoulder。
〃POCO A POCO； senornot now。 You are tired； you have hunger； you
have cold。 Necessary it is you should have peace。〃
He took us into a small room and poured out some French cognac；
which he gave to the men that had accompanied me。 They drank and
threw themselves before the fire in the larger room。 The repose of
the building was intensified that night； and I even fancied that
the footsteps on the corridor were lighter and softer。 The old
Spaniard's habitual gravity was deeper； we might have been