CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11840, 18 December 1901, Page 3

CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

A NIGHT ON THE BLACK MESA. [by r. i:m.ma chx.nt.y.J This is the st-orv the chief engineer told one afternoon when lie found tii wife and myself on the piazza, half-asleep over our books. We needed waking up. lie said. A score 01 years ago, when <ieronimo was master of New Mexico and the " Had Lands I was with a party if engineers surveying the Denver end Rio Grande railroad from Denver to Ml Paso. We were running through a, deep rnrm-u one day when a small hand of Apache*, headed bv their chief. bore down upon us. They pulled up their horses and dismounted. Hoarding us and our instrument with keen curiosity. The transit party was '.veil in the lead: Dick Stanley, with t ie level, and 1. with the rod, wi re, peril. half a mile b»ik. A point had just been taken for the leveller to pass me. when the chief intimated a desire to look through the level. It was a powerful leu*, and the chief, looking through it. was manifestly surprised to find me apparently within .1 little distance of himself, whereas in fact 1 was some four bundled feet away. At that moment 1 thoughtlessly threw ; the rod over my shoulder with what mint ! have seemed to him a threatening gesture, | for he dodged instinctively, then drew back I glowering. The braves laughed immoderi ately at this, and the chief promptly lost J his temper. Seizing his Winchester. lie started on the run to punish me. Meanwhile 1 was trying to prove by a series of dumb disclaimers that I had intended him no harm. Whether my mode of communication was inadequate, or whet h'T mv blood was the only cure for wounded ditrnity. 1 comtot tell: but the chief was implacable, and 1 finally drew my six-shooter and held him covered. He halted a' this, and reluctantly suffered himself to be dissuaded from carrying the matter further. lie was still very angry, however, and plainly cherished a strong resent toward me. 1 paid no attention to his sullen look*, and we proceeded with our work as if nothing had happened to interrupt it. The Indians lingered in our vicinity but a short time, then vanished among the shadows of the black mesa under which we were passing. On our return to camp that evening we discovered that an error had been made in marking the stoke numbers. I volunteered to go back and undertake ilie necessary correction, and being detained much longer than I had expected found myself at nightfall about three miles from camp. li was impossible 10 make that distance in (he dark, and I decided to spend the night on the mesa thai rose, dark and solemn, out of the valley near our last transit point. It was a. rugged, toweiing plateau, formed of lava boulders, piled one upon another, and sparsely clothed wit li mesquit or sage bush of greyish green. After half an hour spent in exploring the face of th* 5 rock I found at the height of some two hundred feet a small chamber, perhaps eight feet square, made by overhanging boulders. Its front was open, ex-cept-that. a hedge of niesquit served as a complete screen. I found a smooth spot on the rock floor, large enough for me to lie at length, and made myself as comfortable as the circumstances would allow. The weather had been hot that day. and when I left the surveyingparty 1 had given my cartridge-belt and i revolvers had given my cartridge-belt revolvers to Alonzo—our I'ueb'.o packer — to carry to camp. The prospect- of a long evening of solitude, lichee red by supper, was not altogether pleasant. 1 wound my watch all too quickly. I tried to whistle, and gave it up. I hummed a college song: it fell flat. But 1 recovered my philosophy at last , and was dozing oft' when I was brought to my feet by an Apache, war cry. Instinctively I felt for my gun, only to be reminded that I was miarmed, and at the mercy of the chief whom 1 had unwittingly offended. 1 knew the Indians must have seen me on the mesa at dusk, and had reasoned that 1 could not travel far over that, steep and rocky ground without a. light. I knew there must be many caves like mine, however, and that was my only crumb of comfort. The call that- had roused m? was answered by others so shrill, so near, so lieud ish that "lite very air seemed peopled wit I demons, i made myself as small as possible withdrew to the farthest darkest corner o my den, and held my breath to listen. After that wild whoop and response the si illness was agonising. I knew that Hit Indians were having a powpow over my head, and the very fact that 1 did not lieai them was alarming. I had not long to wait in suspense. Soon boulders began to erusl. down the face of the mesa, passing over my head on their way to the bottom. It was clear that the Indians had fixed upon my hiding-place within a distance o! a few hundred feet, and were sure of theii ability to dislodge me by this terrible bombardment. At last it ceased. In the silence 1 knew the savages were listening wit! all their acutencss. Soon 1 heard their voices again, and knew that the band had scattered, and puzzled at not having found mj hiding-place were running down the cliff it reconnoitre. Above, below, up, down, back and forth they skulked as stealthily as beasts of prey. Another consultation was succeeded by an other attempt to dislodge 'me by rolling boulders. This was kept up at intervals foi hours, until my whole nervous sys tenthrobbed with pain. After a long period of quiet, when the dawn was beginning to streak the horiwii and I. was taking new courage, an India* glided out of the shadow and stood just ii the opening of my cave, between it and the hedge of mesquil, almost within the lengtl of my arm. For one long, long moment he stood there still, alert, listening. Then he uttered i - cry which sounded to me like that of a wile beast. _ _ With all my force 1 stilled a shriek. M\ breath came thick, my scalp prickled, per spiration trickled down my lace. 1 had already possessed myself of a- bit of rock about the size of a cocoanut —the only defensive weapon within my reachand believing myself discovered, 1 withheld my hand only til the savage should make a movement lowan. me. That 1 did not yield to the defensive impulse was all that saved me. 1 closed my eyes for a single instant., and when I openec them the Indian was gone. It was then broad daylight. I remained quiet for some time, half-stunned and utterly exhausted, waiting for the sun, whicL I knew to be my best friend. When at last I ventured to peer out, very cautiously, over the screen of mesquit, I saw far down the valley near our last transitpoint, the friendly figure of Alonzo coming swiftly yet cautiously back on my trail. Slight as had been the movement I made, he saw me in that instant. Springing quicklv tin the cliff, he lost no time in strapping my "cartridge-belt and revolvers upon me. all the while grumbling in a patois oi Pueblo, Mexican, and English about the dangerous folly of going without " tools" ii: the Apache country. And yet the possession of the means of defence would have made me foolhardy. Alonzo—once a- Pueblo chief, now out useful and übiquitous packer—had always been my friend. When, at a late hour the previous evening, he learned that I had not returned to camp he evinced the utmost uneasiness. He sprang up suddenly, seized my defensive outfit, and slipped out of camp, evading the guard. Undoubtedly his quick ear caught that first Apache yell, and he had shrewdly divined my need of a friend. —Bosj ton Youth's Companion.