Bound In The Desert

Far away from Forlorn River Dick Gale sat stunned, gazing down into the
purple depths where Rojas had plunged to his death. The Yaqui stood
motionless upon the steep red wall of lava from which he had cut the
bandit's hold. Mercedes lay quietly where she had fallen. From across
the depths there came to Gale's ear the Indian's strange, wild cry.

Then silence, hollow, breathless, stony silence enveloped the great
abyss and its upheaved lava walls. The sun was setting. Every instant
the haze reddened and thickened.

Action on the part of the Yaqui loosened the spell which held Gale as
motionless as his surroundings. The Indian was edging back toward the
ledge. He did not move with his former lithe and sure freedom. He
crawled, slipped, dragged himself, rested often, and went on again. He
had been wounded. When at last he reached the ledge where Mercedes lay
Gale jumped to his feet, strong and thrilling, spurred to meet the
responsibility that now rested upon him.

Swiftly he turned to where Thorne lay. The cavalryman was just
returning to consciousness. Gale ran for a canteen, bathed his face,
made him drink. The look in Thorne's eyes was hard to bear.

"Thorne! Thorne! it's all right, it's all right!" cried Gale, in
piercing tones. "Mercedes is safe! Yaqui saved her! Rojas is done
for! Yaqui jumped down the wall and drove the bandit off the ledge.
Cut him loose from the wall, foot by foot, hand by hand! We've won the
fight, Thorne."

For Thorne these were marvelous strength-giving words. The dark horror
left his eyes, and they began to dilate, to shine. He stood up,
dizzily but unaided, and he gazed across the crater. Yaqui had reached
the side of Mercedes, was bending over her. She stirred. Yaqui lifted
her to her feet. She appeared weak, unable to stand alone. But she
faced across the crater and waved her hand. She was unharmed. Thorne
lifted both arms above head, and from his lips issued a cry. It was
neither call nor holloa nor welcome nor answer. Like the Yaqui's, it
could scarcely be named. But it was deep, husky, prolonged, terribly
human in its intensity. It made Gale shudder and made his heart beat
like a trip hammer. Mercedes again waved a white hand. The Yaqui
waved, too, and Gale saw in the action an urgent signal.