Chapter XXIV: The Reality

As Mendez pronounced the dreadful words, the father, overcome by his emotions, uttered a groan and sank to the earth. As if pitying his grief, and feeling that it was idle to say anything more, the Apache turned slowly about and walked away, leaving the white man alone with his grief.

And then some one touched Freeman on the shoulder, shook him and he—awoke.

It was all a dream. He had sat down with his back against the boulder to await the signal from Lieutenant Decker, and, hearing it not, had sunk into a restless sleep, and now opened his eyes under the vigorous stirring of his young friend.

“Come,” said the officer in a guarded voice, “a sentinel must not sleep on his post. I heard you moan and thought you had been hurt.”

It is impossible to throw off on the instant the effects of a vivid dream. It will linger for a time in our thoughts, even though strong sense tells us the whole thing is absurd. Captain Freeman during his days of campaigning had learned to fall asleep and to awaken quickly. He saw almost on the instant the true situation and greeted his friend cordially and cautiously.

“This was a piece of thoughtlessness on my part; but, lieutenant, I have gone through a frightful dream: it makes me shudder even now.”

“I thought something of the kind was under way, for I was guided to this spot by a moan that was like that of a dying person. It was only a little while ago that three Apaches came down to the spring or rivulet, as you may call it, to drink. They stood for some minutes talking. Had you groaned in your sleep or breathed heavily, your slumber would have turned to that which knows no waking.”

“I have been fortunate, but perhaps it is well that I slept, and yet I am sorry, for its remembrance is terrible.”

“You have no faith in dreams, captain, I am sure?”

“None the less they impress us, no matter how we ridicule them.”

“But come! that must have been a lively one; let me hear about it.”

Seated under the shadow of the huge boulder, where they knew no danger threatened, the two talked freely, though each took care that their voices did not penetrate far from the spot. Freeman gave the particulars of his dream, and it was plain that despite his rugged nature it had made a deep impression on him.

“Lieutenant, do you suppose there is anything in it?” he asked at the conclusion of the singular story. The young man respected the sorrow of the elder too sincerely to make light of what he said, though he himself felt not the slightest faith in the warnings and visions which it is claimed sometimes come to people in slumber.

“Nothing at all; your feelings have been so wrought up with anxiety that it would be still stranger if you had not dreamed of your boy. How could it be otherwise when there is nothing else in your thoughts?”

“But it was so realistic that it clings by me.”

“As a matter of course; your brain was surcharged and overflowed with the same string of ideas, and did not cease its throbbings when the rest of the body was asleep. They say we never dream of anything which has not previously been in our thoughts, but that is an error, for I know I have had fancies in sleep which had never been in my head during waking hours.”

“I have always held the same views as you, and yet we cannot deny, lieutenant, that there have been many verifications of dreams. To dispute it would be to make out some of the best of men and women to be falsifiers.”

“In their cases, I think, a good deal was due to imagination, but you are not of that build. A physician would explain your ugly dream on the plainest of physiological principles, so literally there’s nothing in it.”

“You know how fond Mendez is of tiswin.”

“That feature alone proves the character of your vision. The fellow shares with his people the weakness for that extract of hades, but when he is engaged on business like this you could not induce him to swallow a drop, if you held it under his nose. That phase of your dream, therefore, condemns it all.”

“I am relieved to hear you say so,” remarked Freeman with a sigh; “you know more about him than I do, and could hardly mistake on that point.”

“Rather curiously it is only a few days ago that some of us were talking about that very peculiarity. One of the men who had scouted for months with him and Cemuri said that both had a certain conscientiousness or rather devotion to duty which kept them strictly sober, till their work is done. Then, too,” added the lieutenant, as if resolved to leave no foundation for Freeman’s fears, “there is no way by which Mendez could have got the vile stuff, had he been so disposed.”

“Could he not have gone among the Apaches and drunk with them?”

“He, a White Mountain Apache, whose work for us is well known, venture among the hostiles, when they are on the war path!” exclaimed Decker, turning with astonishment to his companion; “why do not you and I go among them? It would be less sensible for him, since they hate him more than both of us together.”

“Well,” said Freeman, “your words have given me comfort. I have never had any experience in the dreams which serve as warnings.”

“Besides,” added the lieutenant, as the new thought struck him, “my recollection of the old superstition is that dreams go by contraries, so that on that basis your omen is a good one. Let me see—the theory was that every dream was to be translated by the rule of contraries, unless it came to us of a Friday night. Since this is Thursday evening that lets you out.”

“Enough,” said Freeman, now able to rally from his depression; “I care nothing for the dream, and can look at it through your eyes. You have not told me whether you saw or heard anything out of the usual, though there must have been something of the sort, or you forgot to give that call for me to join you.”

“Well,” replied the lieutenant lightly, “I had a little entertainment of my own, and at one time it looked as if matters would become lively.”

Thereupon he gave the incidents which have already been told the reader, and which drove the last remnants of the dream from Freeman’s thoughts.

“It seems to me,” said the captain, “that what you tell me gives good cause for uneasiness.”

“How so?”

“You have met four of the Apaches at least, or rather you saw them. We thought none of them were near. We must be close to the main party.”

“That does not follow; the one with whom I played hide and seek was a sort of wanderer. He had drifted into this section, and, not liking the look of things, has gone.”

“But he learned that you were here—you a white man, and would not be likely to believe you were alone.”

“I do not see why he should not think so, since he himself was alone. He has known of the water here and concluded that I had come from somewhere to get a drink and was on my return, when we came near running against each other. Remember that we did not meet at the rock where we agreed to await the return of Mendez, so he can know nothing of that.”

“But, if he carries the news to camp, will not the Apaches suspect the truth, or perhaps more than the truth? They will think a party of white men are after my child and become doubly cautious.”

“While it is possible you may be right, I place less importance on the incident than you.”

“And the three whom you saw at the spring?”

“Their course proved they had not the slightest suspicion of anything of that nature. Had they believed any of us were near, they would have come and gone without detection, or they would have done worse.”

“Well, I hope it is as you say; I am in that nervous state that I cannot look at matters with the coolness you do.”

“Don’t get the idea that I consider it fair sailing before us. Mendez has a hard job in hand, and, were any one else concerned, I would have little hope; but he understands what he is doing and is following some carefully laid plan of his own. At any rate we shall know before morning.”

The consciousness that the crisis was so near added to the uneasiness of Freeman. He rose to his feet and looked anxiously around in the gloom; but they were so far removed from the little rivulet or spring of water that a dozen men might have come and gone without being seen, had they but exercised ordinary caution.

“Since there is no telling when Mendez may return,” suggested Freeman, “is it not best that we should return to the other rock?”

Lieutenant Decker saw no objection to this course, and he, too, rose to his feet. He stood a moment, debating some question with himself.

“I wonder,” he finally said, “whether any more of them can be in the neighborhood. I am inclined to take another look at the spring. If you will remain here, I will promise not to keep you waiting more than a few minutes.”

“Very well; there’s no fear of my falling asleep again, and if you are absent too long I will go forward and find out the cause.”

“Wait for the signal, or better, I will return to you.”

“It is the same distrust,” reflected Freeman, when he was once more left alone; “but in this business I suppose one man is better than two.”

Despite the reassuring words of the lieutenant, he was somewhat troubled by the new phase of the situation. Of the four Apaches whom he had seen, one received a sharp reminder of the presence of a white man in the neighborhood. If he carried the news to the camp of his people, they would see the probable meaning of it, since no white person would come thither for a drink of water, unless he left companions in the vicinity. The fact that he was near the spring would indicate that others were not far off, and that the solitary Apache held such belief was almost proved by his withdrawal in the face of danger. A warrior with his acumen and skill, who had come so near outwitting his antagonist, would not be apt to give up the game of hide and seek, unless he expected a change of conditions through the arrival of other white men. He must have felt himself the equal of a single foe, but had no wish to become involved with several. His course was simply a retreat before an enemy whom he expected to be joined by reinforcements.

On the other hand, he might be operating on his own responsibility, or, if a scout, would not rejoin the main party until he could take more definite information to them.

It will be seen that the young officer was in a maze of doubt and speculation. Like the detective trying to trace a crime, he could spin theories without limit, only perhaps to find them all wrong in the end. The situation which confronted them was that they were to wait at the rock some distance off until the coming of Mendez, and when he came, he would bring good or evil news. That was the situation in a nutshell.

Had the lieutenant discovered more Apaches near the spring, he would have seen cause for misgiving and alarm. He, therefore, reconnoitered the spot with the utmost care, listening and peering here and there with the patient caution of an Apache himself. It required but a brief while, however, to satisfy himself that none of his enemies were prowling in the neighborhood. Some of them might have come and gone, while he was holding converse with Freeman, but it was unlikely.

The lieutenant, therefore, did not hesitate to emit the guarded whistle which quickly brought his friend to his side.

“I have discovered nothing amiss,” he explained; “I don’t believe any of them have been here since the three I told you about.”

“I presume you wish to take the lead as usual?”

“It makes no difference,” replied Decker, who, however, took care to place himself in advance, with the other only two or three yards behind him. The route had become familiar to both and neither needed to warn the other to be careful. They advanced in the crouching posture to which they had become accustomed, with heads thrown forward, stepping softly, looking keenly on all sides and listening for the first indication of danger, which might come from the rear as well as from the front.

When the lieutenant found himself facing the huge boulder where he had encountered the Apache some time before, he paused, raising his hand for Freeman to do the same. It seemed as if his old enemy must still be near, and the young man did not pass the dangerous point until he had called into play all the skill of which he was master and convinced himself that nothing further was to be feared. Then the two picked their way to the rendezvous by the rock.