Gadsden (Ariz.) -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction; Western stories
He was going south, they were moving west, but it was five miles north
again to the town. Speed was what was needed and Copper Bottom gave his
best. They dashed into Fortuna like a whirlwind, and Hooker raised his
voice in a high yell.
"_Insurrectos!_" he shouted. "_La drones! Pr-onto á_ Fortuna!"
There was a hush, a moment's silence, and then heads appeared from
every window and women ran screaming with the news. Aragon came rushing
from the store and confronted him angrily; then, reading conviction in
his tones, he called for horses and ran frantically into the house.
A shrill screech came from the hillside, where a serving-woman had
scampered to view the valley, and, as she pointed her finger and
screamed, mothers laid hold of their little ones and started up the
valley on foot.
Still the men ran about in the horse-pen and Aragon adjured his
womenfolk in the house. Burning with impatience, Bud spurred his way to
the corral where they were fumbling with reata and rigging and dropped
a rope on the first horse he saw. Then he snatched a side-saddle from
a trembling peon and slapped it on the brute's back. Grabbing up the
bridle, he led the horse back to the house and bridled it while he
shouted for haste.
Still the women tarried, and the sound of galloping came from the
south. Then, as all seemed lost, the Mexicans came bumping out from
the stable with the family coach, Aragon and his wife leaped in, and
Gracia, neatly attired in a riding-skirt, came tripping down the steps.
Even in such times as these she seemed to realize her first duty to
herself, and Hooker had to gaze for a moment before he helped her up.
She offered her foot and vaulted lightly into the saddle; the coach
went pounding on ahead; and as the servants scattered before her she
galloped off at the side of Bud.
Behind them the rumble of distant hoofs rose up like the roaring of
waters, and the shrieks of fleeing women echoed from the roadside,
but once safely in the cañon their lead was never lessened and, with
coach-horses galloping and postilions lashing from both sides, the
whole cavalcade swept into the plaza while the town of Fortuna went mad.
Already the great whistle was blowing hoarsely, its deep reverberations
making the air tremble as if with fear. Americans were running back
and forth, distributing arms and rushing their women to cover; Don
Juan, his chin quivering with excitement, was imploring all comers to
be calm; and the Aragons, coming flying up to the door, added the last
touch to the panic.
They with their own eyes had seen the rebels; they were riding in from
the south! Other men, equally excited, swore they were coming from the
north, and a disorderly body of Sonoran miners, armed as if by magic
with guns which had long lain hidden, banked themselves about the store
and office and clamored for more and more cartridges. Then a rip of
gun-fire echoed from across the cañon, and the miners made a rush to
the attack.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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