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Updated: June 26, 2025
It's a beautiful place, my Navajo oasis. The Indians call it the Garden of Eschtah. If you can get well anywhere it'll be there." "I'll go but I ought not. What can I do for you? "No man can ever tell what he may do for another. The time may come well, John, is it settled?" He offered his huge broad hand. "It's settled I " Hare faltered as he put his hand in Naab's.
Death itself shuddered through Hare's veins and then a raging flood of fire. He bounded forward to be flung back by Naab's arm. "Fool! Would you throw away your life? Go slowly. We'll slip through the fields, under the trees." Sick and cold Hare hurried by Naab's side round the wall and into the alfalfa.
For God's sake, tell me." "Never." It was a woman's word, instant, inflexible, desperate. With a deep breath Hare realized where the girl had changed. "Still you're promised, pledged to him! How'll you get out of it?" "I don't know how. But I'll cut out my tongue, and be dumb as my poor peon before I'll speak the word that'll make me Snap Naab's wife." There was a long silence.
Naab's dogged persistence and the Navajos' faithfulness carried them into the country of the Moki Indians, a tribe classed as slaves by the proud race of Eschtah. Here they searched the villages and ancient tombs and ruins, but of Mescal there was never a trace. Hare rode as diligently and searched as indefatigably as August, but he never had any real hope of finding the girl.
He had not moved a muscle since he had heard August Naab's declaration. That one word of Naab's intention, "Alone!" had arrested him. For it had struck into his heart and mind. It had paralyzed him with the revelation it brought; for Hare now knew as he had never known anything before, that he would forestall August Naab, avenge the death of Dave, and kill the rustler Holderness.
"You must never never do that again." Hare drew back sharply. "Why not? What's wrong? You must tell me, Mescal." "I remembered." She hung her head. "Remembered what?" "I am pledged to marry Father Naab's eldest son." For a moment Hare did not understand. He stared at her unbelievingly. "What did you say?" he asked, slowly. Mescal repeated her words in a whisper. "But but Mescal I love you.
A rose-red horizon lay far below and to the eastward; the intervening descent was like a rolling sea with league-long swells. "Glad you slept some," was Naab's greeting. "No sign of Dene yet. If we can get over the divide we're safe. That's Coconina there, Fire Mountain in Navajo meaning. It's a plateau low and narrow at this end, but it runs far to the east and rises nine thousand feet.
Dominating all other feeling was the fear that Mescal would come in and take a seat by Snap Naab's side. When Snap seated himself opposite with his pale little wife Hare found himself waiting for Mescal with an intensity that made him dead to all else. The girls, Judith, Esther, Rebecca, came running gayly in, clad in their best dresses, with bright ribbons to honor the occasion.
Snap's gone to the bad." Dave Naab hid his face while he told of his brother's treachery; the others turned away, and Hare closed his eyes. For long moments there was silence broken only by the tramp of the old man as he strode heavily to and fro. At last the footsteps ceased, and Hare opened his eyes to see Naab's tall form erect, his arms uplifted, his shaggy head rigid.
Hare was regardless of time while he stole under the cedars and through the thickets, spying out the cunning coyotes. Then Naab's yell pealing out claimed his attention; he answered and returned. When they met he recounted his adventures in mingled excitement and disappointment. "Are you tired?" asked Naab. "Tired? No," replied Jack. "Well, you mustn't overdo the very first day. I've news for you.
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