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Updated: July 9, 2025
Maybe it's off color. I think that Yaqui was, or is, for that matter, dying of a broken heart. All he wanted was to get back to his mountains and die. There are no Yaquis left in that part of Sonora he was bound for." "He had a strange look in his eyes," said Gale, thoughtfully. "Yes, I noticed that. But all Yaquis have a wild look. Dick, if I'm not mistaken, this fellow was a chief.
Gale's burden was not very heavy, but its bulk made it unwieldy, and it was always overbalancing him or knocking against the wall side of the trail. Gale found it necessary to wait for Yaqui to take the lead. The Indian's eyes must have seen as well at night as by day.
Still more important, November 2, 1884, Apostles Brigham Young, Jr., and Heber J. Grant investigated the Yaqui River section of Sonora, this with three companies of prospective settlers from the Salt River, Gila and San Pedro Valleys, together with some additions from Salt Lake. In January, 1885, migration was under personal charge of President John Taylor, who, after a notable conference at St.
But you did not know that he was the son of Chief Pima, nor that in ten days the son will be Chief after having served in the household of Zoraida! And Sonora and Chihuahua and the Yaqui tribes are pledged to one thing: To an independent Lower California over which I shall rule." "Wild schemes," muttered Kendric. "Foredoomed, like other mad schemes in Mexico.
Through the soft silence they began to get the sound of running feet, stumbling feet, running with difficulty, and in another moment, up the green lane came Yaqui Juan, bent almost double with the weight of Jimsy King across his back. "Honor!" Carter tried to catch her. "Come back! You mustn't Are you crazy?"
A bullet had gone through the Indian's shoulder. To Gale it appeared serious. Yaqui said it was a flea bite. But he allowed Gale to bandage it, and obeyed when he was told to lie quiet in his blanket beside the fire. Gale stood guard. He seemed still calm, and wondered at what he considered a strange absence of poignant feeling. If he had felt weariness it was now gone.
But living through this long hot summer and coming out that's a miracle. Only the Yaqui could have done it. The Yaqui! The Yaqui!" "Shore. Charlie Ladd looks up at an Indian these days. But Beldin', as for the comin' out, don't forget the hosses. Without grand old Sol an' Diablo, who I don't hate no more, an' the other Blancos, we'd never have got here. Yaqui an' the hosses, that's my story!"
Perhaps Yaqui Juan was creeping back to them now, the canteens of precious water hung about his neck, and perhaps he was dead. There had been no shots, but they would not necessarily shoot him. There were other ... awfuller ways. And Jimsy King was asleep. What would he be like when he wakened, when he came to himself again? Could he ever face her?
Once, when Jimsy was briefly away with his Yaqui henchman she asked Carter to walk with her, but he decided for the dim sala; the heat which seemed to invigorate and vitalize Jimsy left him limp and spent. He brushed her generalities roughly aside. "Are you happy, Honor?" She lifted her candid eyes to his bleak young face. "Yes, Cartie. Happier than ever before and I've been happy all my life."
The Yaqui bent his glance upon her only seldom; but when he did look it seemed that his strange, fixed, and inscrutable face was about to break into a smile. Yet that never happened. Gale himself was surprised to find how often his own glance found the slender, dark, beautiful Spaniard. Was this because of her beauty? he wondered. He thought not altogether. Mercedes was a woman.
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