Page:On the border with Crook - Bourke - 1892.djvu/47

 much information about the apparition had it been demanded; but Speedy persisted in his belief that he had had a "call" from the other world, and was sorely depressed for several weeks.

Speedy rendered valuable help in our self-imposed task of digging in the "ruins" alongside of our quarters—vestiges of an occupancy by a pre-historic race, allied to the Pueblos of the Rio Grande or to the Pimas and Papagoes.

Broken pottery, painted and unpainted, a flint knife or two, some arrow-heads, three or four stone hatchets, and more of the same sort, were our sole reward for much hard work. The great question which wrought us up to fever heat was, Who were these inhabitants? Felmer promptly decided that they were Phœnicians—upon what grounds I do not know, and it is very doubtful if Felmer knew either—but Oscar Hutton "'lowed they mout 'a' bin some o' them Egyptian niggers as built the pyramids in th' Bible."

The paymaster had come and gone; the soldiers had spent their last dollar; the last "pay-day drunk" had been rounded up and was now on his way to the guard-house, muttering a maudlin defiance to Erin's foes; the sun was shining with scorching heat down upon the bed of pebbles which formed the parade-ground; the flag hung limp and listless from the pudgy staff; the horses were out on herd; the scarlet-shouldered black-*birds, the cardinals, the sinsontes, and the jays had sought the deepest shadows; there was no sound to drown the insistent buzz of the aggravating flies or the voice of the Recorder of the Garrison Court just assembled, which was trying Privates A. and B. and C. and D. and others, names and rank now forgotten, for having "then and there," "on or about," and "at or near" the post of Camp Grant, Arizona, committed sundry and divers crimes against the law and regulations—when, straight across the parade, with the swiftness of a frightened deer, there ran a half or three-quarters naked Mexican, straight to the door of the "comandante's" quarters.

He was almost barefooted, the shoes he had on being in splinters. His trousers had been scratched so by the thorns and briars that only rags were now pendent from his waist. His hat had been dropped in his terrified flight from some unexplained danger, which the wan face, almost concealed by matted locks, and the shirt covered with blood still flowing