Novel 1972 - Callaghen (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page B

tiny water holes or seeps with just enough for one or two men. By the time they and their horses drink it may take hours to fill up again.”
    It was sundown when they rode into Camp Cady, and Sykes’s spirits hit rock bottom. There were trees offering some shade, and there was the river—a mere trickle, by his standards. The huts were built of adobe or logs, and roofed with brush. Some of the soldiers actually lived in brush huts, preferring them in warm weather.
    Captain Hill awaited him. “You’ll be tired, sir. I’ve had water heated, so if you’d like a bath—”
    “You haven’t formed the men?”
    “There are only eight men, sir. Three are on guard duty at present, and the others have just returned from a patrol.”
    The casualness of it offended him, but he was hot and tired, and in no mood to quibble. In Hill’s quarters, the captain got out his treasured bottle of whiskey. “This may help, sir. I know this place is rather a shock after the Coast, but it grows on you. There’s something about the desert, sir, that gets to you.”
    “I shall try very hard not to discover it,” Sykes replied shortly.
    Hill reviewed for him the Indian situation. “You have two men here,” he added, “who are invaluable. There’s a Delaware Indian who has scouted for the army, served in it as he does now, and he is a master at tracking. The other one is Sergeant Morty Callaghen.”
    “Sergeant?”
    “Yes, sir. I promoted him to sergeant after Lieutenant Allison was killed. He’s a very able man. He knows the desert better than any white man I know, and after Allison was killed he took over and led the remnants of the patrol back out of the desert. I doubt if any other man could have done so.”
    “I know the man.”
    Hill spoke mildly. “Too bad you are losing him. He’s the best man you have.”
    “I do not intend to lose him.”
    “His enlistment is up, Major. He is waiting for his papers now. Once he has them, I doubt if he’ll remain long.”
    Sykes dismissed the subject. “This Allison you mention. He was named in one of your reports, but nobody at headquarters knows anything about him.”
    Captain Hill explained as best he could, adding some of Callaghen’s speculations.
    “Gold?” Sykes stared at him. “There’s gold in this desert?”
    “It’s been found from time to time. It’s mostly rumor, I think, but some of the rumors are quite substantial. The one that intrigues me the most is that of a River of Gold that is said to flow under the desert.”
    “Under?”
    “Rivers do not last long in the desert, Major. They sink into the sand and disappear. Perhaps they just evaporate, but the story is that there’s a river running deep in a cavern beneath the desert, and that its sand is mixed with gold. The Indians had stories about a River of the Golden Sands.”
    “Nonsense.” Even as he said it, Sykes was thoughtful. Supposing…just supposing such a story were true? He was here in the desert. He had ample time to look around, and an excellent cover for doing so. And if he found something it would, of course, belong to him.
    He dismissed the idea, and thought of more immediate things. In the morning he would go over the lists of provisions, ammunition, and weapons on hand. He would have a look at the riding stock and the pack animals, and learn just what he had to work with.
    After he had had his bath he sat and talked with Captain Hill over a drink and a cigar.
    “The Mohaves now,” Sykes said. “Do you see them often?”
    “You only see them when they want you to see them.” Hill paused. “You must understand, Major, the Mohave is a different kind of Indian. He is not like the Plains Indians. Not even like the Apaches, with whom he is sometimes grouped. The Mohaves are of the Yuma family, but they are very different indeed.”
    He took a sip of whiskey. He was going to have to leave it alone. He was getting to like the stuff too much. “When they want to navigate the river they do not