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fresh water into mimic waves； I go back； in fancy； to the long ride
of October over that boundless plain； and recall the sharp outlines
of the distant hills； which are now lost in the lowering clouds。
The men are rowing silently； and I find my mind； released from its
tension； growing benumbed and depressed as then。 The water； too；
is getting more shallow as we leave the banks of the creek； and
with my hand dipped listlessly over the thwarts； I detect the tops
of chimisal； which shows the tide to have somewhat fallen。 There
is a black mound； bearing to the north of the line of alder； making
an adverse current； which； as we sweep to the right to avoid； I
recognize。 We pull close alongside and I call to the men to stop。
There was a stake driven near its summit with the initials； 〃L。 E。
S。 I。〃 Tied halfway down was a curiously worked riata。 It was
George's。 It had been cut with some sharp instrument； and the
loose gravelly soil of the mound was deeply dented with horses'
hoofs。 The stake was covered with horsehairs。 It was a record；
but no clue。
The wind had grown more violent as we still fought our way forward；
resting and rowing by turns； and oftener 〃poling〃 the shallower
surface； but the old VALDA； or bench； is still distant。 My
recollection of the old survey enables me to guess the relative
position of the meanderings of the creek； and an occasional simple
professional experiment to determine the distance gives my crew the
fullest faith in my ability。 Night overtakes us in our impeded
progress。 Our condition looks more dangerous than it really is；
but I urge the men； many of whom are still new in this mode of
navigation； to greater exertion by assurance of perfect safety and
speedy relief ahead。 We go on in this way until about eight
o'clock； and ground by the willows。 We have a muddy walk for a few
hundred yards before we strike a dry trail； and simultaneously the
white walls of Altascar's appear like a snowbank before us。 Lights
are moving in the courtyard； but otherwise the old tomblike repose
characterizes the building。
One of the peons recognized me as I entered the court； and Altascar
met me on the corridor。
I was too weak to do more than beg his hospitality for the men who
had dragged wearily with me。 He looked at my hand； which still
unconsciously held the broken riata。 I began； wearily； to tell him
about George and my fears； but with a gentler courtesy than was
even his wont； he gravely laid his hand on my shoulder。
〃POCO A POCO； senornot now。 You are tired； you have hunger； you
have cold。 Necessary it is you should have peace。〃
He took us into a small room and poured out some French cognac；
which he gave to the men that had accompanied me。 They drank and
threw themselves before the fire in the larger room。 The repose of
the building was intensified that night； and I even fancied that
the footsteps on the corridor were lighter and softer。 The old
Spaniard's habitual gravity was deeper； we might have been shut out
from the world as well as the whistling storm； behind those ancient
walls with their time…worn inheritor。
Before I could repeat my inquiry he retired。 In a few minutes two
smoking dishes of CHUPA with coffee were placed before us； and my
men ate ravenously。 I drank the coffee； but my excitement and
weariness kept down the instincts of hunger。
I was sitting sadly by the fire when he reentered。
〃You have eat？〃
I said； 〃Yes；〃 to please him。
〃BUENO； eat when you canfood and appetite are not always。〃
He said this with that Sancho…like simplicity with which most of
his countrymen utter a proverb； as though it were an experience
rather than a legend； and； taking the riata from the floor； held it
almost tenderly before him。
〃It was made by me； senor。〃
〃I kept it as a clue to him； Don Altascar；〃 I said。 〃If I could
find him〃
〃He is here。〃
〃Here！ and〃but I could not say 〃well！〃 I understood the gravity
of the old man's face； the hushed footfalls； the tomblike repose of
the building； in an electric flash of consciousness； I held the
clue to the broken riata at last。 Altascar took my hand； and we
crossed the corridor to a somber apartment。 A few tall candles
were burning in sconces before the window。
In an alcove there was a deep bed with its counterpane； pillows；
and sheets heavily edged with lace； in all that splendid luxury
which the humblest of these strange people lavish upon this single
item of their household。 I stepped beside it and saw George lying；
as I had seen him once before； peacefully at rest。 But a greater
sacrifice than that he had known was here； and his generous heart
was stilled forever。
〃He was honest and brave；〃 said the old man； and turned away。
There was another figure in the room； a heavy shawl drawn over her
graceful outline； and her long black hair hiding the hands that
buried her downcast face。 I did not seem to notice her； and；
retiring presently； left the loving and loved together。
When we were again beside the crackling fire； in the shifting
shadows of the great chamber； Altascar told me how he had that
morning met the horse of George Tryan swimming on the prairie； how
that； farther on； he found him lying； quite cold and dead； with no
marks or bruises on his person； that he had probably become
exhausted in fording the creek； and that he had as probably reached
the mound only to die for want of that help he had so freely given
to others； that； as a last act； he had freed his horse。 These
incidents were corroborated by many who collected in the great
chamber that eveningwomen and childrenmost of them succored
through the devoted energies of him who lay cold and lifeless
above。
He was buried in the Indian moundthe single spot of strange
perennial greenness which the poor aborigines had raised above the
dusty plain。 A little slab of sandstone with the initials 〃G。 T。〃
is his monument； and one of the bearings of the initial corner of
the new survey of the 〃Espiritu Santo Rancho。〃