Vanguards of the Plains: A Romance of the Old Santa Fé TrailMcCarter, Margaret Hill
History
Vanguards of the Plains: A Romance of the Old Santa Fé Trail
McCarter, Margaret Hill
Santa Fe National Historic Trail -- Fiction; West (U.S.) -- History -- Fiction
Esmond Clarenden gave a start. "Gail, you have the most remarkable
memory for faces of any child I ever knew," he said.
"Did he follow us, too, like the pony, or did he ride the pony after
us?" I asked. "He's just everywhere we go, somehow. Did I ever see him
before he came to the fort, or did I dream it?"
"You are a little dreamer, Gail," my uncle said, kindly. "But dreams
don't hurt, if you do your part whenever you are needed."
"Bev and Bill Banney make fun of dreams," I said.
"Yes, they don't have 'em; but Bev and Bill are ready when it comes to
doing things. They are a good deal alike, daring, and a bit reckless
sometimes, with good hard sense enough to keep them level."
"Don't I do, too?" I inquired.
"Yes, you do and dream, both. That's all the better. But you mustn't
forget, too, that sometimes the things we long for in our dreams we must
fight for, and even die for, maybe, that those who come after us may be
the better for our having them. What was it you said about Little Blue
Flower?" Uncle Esmond had forgotten her for the moment.
"She's gone to Santa Fé, I reckon. Is she bad, Uncle Esmond? Tell me all
about things," I urged.
"We are all here spying out the land, Mexican, Indian, trader,
freighter, adventurer, invalid," Uncle Esmond replied. "I don't know
what started the little Indian girl off, unless she just felt Indian, as
Jondo would say; but I may as well tell you, Gail, that it may have been
the Mexican who got our pony for us. He is a strange fellow, walks like
a cat, has ears like a timber wolf, and the cunning of a fox."
"Is he our friend?" I asked, eagerly.
"Listen, boy. He came to Fort Leavenworth on purpose to bring me an
important message, and he waited at Independence to see us off. Do you
remember the two spies Krane talked about at Council Grove? I think he
followed the Mexican spy across the river to our camp and sent him on
east. Then he went back and got the crowd all mixed up by his report,
while their own man scouted the trail out there for miles all night. He
is the man who put you through town and decoyed the ruffians to one
side. He located us after we had crossed the river, and then broke up
their meeting and put the fellows off to wait till the next night. That
is the way I worked out that Council Grove puzzle. He has a wide range,
and there are big things ahead for him in New Mexico.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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