He looked around again. “Erik is not here, that’s obvious. I guess we’d better go back.”
“No! Please! You must not! We must not! Not tonight!”
“What’s wrong? Why not tonight?”
“It would be dangerous. They … they are worse at night. They would see us but we could not see them. It is better if we stay here.”
He did not want to stay. He wanted to get away, to get back to a town, to people—anywhere but here. Nor did he relish the drive back over those winding desert trails where it was easy enough to miss a turn by daylight, let alone at night.
It was an eerie, lonely place. The drop down to the river must be almost sheer, and several hundred feet. The mesa was a peninsula of rock pointing downstream, almost due west, and surrounded by deep gorges except at the place where they had approached it.
“All right,” he agreed reluctantly, “but as you can see, the accommodations aren’t much.”
He went back into the ruin. A glance into the portable refrigerator showed cheese and some cold cuts, a few cold drinks. There was a case of cold drinks, a mixed lot, sitting nearby. He went outside and looked around for fuel. He wanted a fire; he wanted very much to have a fire.
Nearby there was a stack of roots, broken branches, and the trunks of a few lightning-blasted trees—nothing large but good fuel. He needed only a few minutes to build a fire. Kawasi walked to it and put out her hands to it, gratefully. “It is cold,” she said.
Stars were appearing now, and only the tops of mesas, ridges, and the distant Navajo Mountain were catching the last glow of light. “I’ll make some coffee,” he said.
Erik had planned well. There were supplies enough to last for some time. Did he bring them all himself? Or did someone come to him? By helicopter, perhaps? That would certainly be the easiest way, and there was plenty of room for landing.
He took out his gun and checked it. Kawasi watched him, then asked, “It is a weapon?”
“A gun,” he said, “a pistol. Did Erik have one, do you know?”
“I do not know. I think possible. I think maybe. It is different, more flat.”
“An automatic, I expect. I wonder if they found it?” He glanced at her. “Would they search him? Go through his pockets?’!
“I think yes. I do not know, but …”
More than likely they would. How much did they know of guns? Or did they have some of their own? Or some similar weapon? Or, if they could come back and forth, might they not have brought weapons from this side?
The last light was disappearing, so he added fuel to the fire, causing it to blaze up. Instinctively, he looked toward the long mesa where he had seen the flare. It was dark and ominous.
Closer, just across the river, was another mesa. He recognized its shape, remembering there had been some mining there at one time, but unsuccessful mining, if he remembered correctly.
He found some bread in the food chest and made sandwiches from the cold cuts. When the coffee was ready, they sat down in the opening of the ruin. He thought, suddenly, of the kiva. It would be on his left. Or was it to the right? He tried to remember what Erik had said.
He turned to Kawasi. “I am afraid,” she said.
“You need not be. We will manage.”
“But if they come?”
He shrugged. “Stay behind me. Let me handle it.”
“But you do not know. They have means to … to make you helpless. And they are evil, evil!”
He added fuel to the fire and handed her a plate with a sandwich and then a cup of coffee. He sipped his own, and it tasted good. The air was cold, and the coffee warmed him.
His eyes were busy, his every sense alert. He bit into his sandwich, glad of the silence, realizing that every slightest sound could be heard. He glanced at Kawasi. She was beautiful. Really, truly beautiful in a very quiet unassuming way.
“Over there,” he suggested, “you live in a house?”
” ‘House’?” She puzzled over the word. “It is a cave where I live. Where the old ones lived. You see, we must hide. They look for us. Always they look.”
“How do they live?”
“What you call this?” She indicated the walls. “It is room?”
“It was once. Yes, I’d call it a room.”
“Over there, in the other place, many rooms are together, many people live. Each family have rooms but all in one place.”
“Like an apartment building? Or a pueblo?”
“Yes! Pueblo! It is a word I know. I hear it spoken, although the word is not ours. There are many pueblo, some very fine.”
He stood up, cup in hand, and let his eyes reach beyond the firelight, out into the darkness, seeking, watching. “How large is your country?” he asked. “How much land?”
She shook her head. “I do not know. I think no one knows. Those who work know where they work. They know where are park places. To go far from where we sleep or work is not allowed.”
She paused. “Sometimes I believe even they do not know, those who command us. I think they know little more than we.”
She paused. “Once it was not so. When my people ruled—”
“Your people?”
“Yes. My great-grandfather was … was what you call He Who Rules. There was sudden attack. He was kill. Others took control, and we escape. Now my people live in far hills where nobody comes. Or nobody did come until Erik. Then all is change.”
Slowly, the story took shape. Evidently her family had ruled for many years, and then there had been a palace revolution. The evil ones took control, or the ones she implied were evil. Her family and a few others had escaped to the lonely canyons where nobody came, and lived as the Old Ones had lived.
“The ones the Navajo called the Anasazi?”
“Yes, I—” She caught her breath, and something moved out in the darkness.
Mike Raglan stood very still. His gun was in his holster but he was wishing it was in his hand. There was something out there, something very close, something coming nearer, and nearer …
XI
The face of Kawasi was very pale. She moved closer to him.
The sky was clear, blue with early night, and already a few bright stars shone. Downriver and across loomed the long dark bulk of the great mesa.
“It’s all right, Kawasi.” He spoke quietly. “No need to be afraid.”
Something moved out there beyond the firelight, something drawing closer. His hand went to his gun. Suddenly it was there, looming across the fire at the very edge of the light.
It was a dog, a very large dog. It was Chief.
He sighed in relief. “Chief?” He spoke quietly. “Come, Chief!”
The mastiff remained where he was, testing the air with his nose, watchful and wary. “It’s all right, Chief. Don’t you remember me?”
The big dog came forward another step, then another. “Come on, Chief. It’s all right. Where’s Erik, Chief? Where’s your master?”
The dog drew nearer, then came around the fire, and Mike put out a hand. “You remember me, Chief? We’re old friends. We came out of Tibet together, you and I. We walked down the mountains and we camped in the desert.”
With sudden realization the big dog leaped up, yelping with excitement. “Easy! Easy, boy! You’re too big for that now! You’d knock a man down!”
Kawasi had drawn back in amazement while he ruffled the hair around Chief’s neck and talked to him. “Where’d you leave Erik, Chief? We’ve got to find him, Chief.”
The big dog was beside himself with joy. “Settle down now, boy, and I’ll find you something to eat. Seems to me I saw a case of dog food back here.” He went over to a box under the drafting table and got out two cans of dog food and emptied them into the dog’s dish. Chief wasted no time but went to eating as if starved.
Kawasi stared at him. “It is a beast? You speak like to person.”
Mike chuckled. “You’ve asked a good question, Kawasi. To me, Chief has always been a person. We met each other when he was a tiny puppy in Tibet, up in the Chang-Tang. He was given to me by an old friend there, and I gave him to Erik when he was coming out here. I thought he might need him. He’s been with Erik a while now but I guess at heart we both still felt he was my dog.”
He looked up at her, apologetically. “I was traveling a lot and had no place to keep a dog. This fellow is used to big, open country. He needs room to move.”