and here and there larger trees from the tierra templada in the
evergreens or madrono. A few low huts and corrals, and a rambling
hacienda, were scattered along the crest, and in the midst arose a
little votive chapel, flanked by pear-trees. Near the roadside were the
crumbling edges of some long-forgotten excavation. Crosby gazed at it
curiously. Touching the arm of the officer, he pointed to it.
"Una mina de plata," said the officer sententiously.
"A mine of some kind--silver, I bet!" said Crosby, turning to the
others. "Is it good--bueno--you know?" he continued to the officer, with
vague gesticulations.
"En tiempos pasados," returned the officer gravely.
"I wonder what that means?" said Winslow.
But before Crosby could question further, the subaltern signaled to them
to dismount. They did so, and their horses were led away to a little
declivity, whence came the sound of running water. Left to themselves,
the Americans looked around them. The cavalcade seemed to have halted
near the edge of a precipitous ridge, the evident termination of
the road. But the view that here met their eyes was unexpected and
startling.
The plateau on which they stood seemed to drop suddenly away, leaving
them on the rocky shore of a monotonous and far-stretching sea of waste
and glittering sand. Not a vestige nor trace of vegetation could be
seen, except an occasional ridge of straggling pallid bushes, raised
in hideous simulation of the broken crest of a ghostly wave. On
either side, as far as the eye could reach, the hollow empty vision
extended--the interminable desert stretched and panted before them.
"It's the jumping-off place, I reckon," said Crosby, "and they've
brought us here to show us how small is our chance of getting away.
But," he added, turning towards the plateau again, "what are they doing
now? 'Pon my soul! I believe they're going off--and leaving us."
The others turned as he spoke. It was true. The dragoons were coolly
galloping off the way they came, taking with them the horses the
Americans had just ridden.
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