Preparations

This is what is sacred to the tribe, this spiritual light that fills the cave. We learn from Seedling that the gold he has been mining is off in another cavern that is beyond this one. He has an old broken mirror on a crude stand that he has used to reflect the light into the chamber he works. It looks as though he has been working this place for years. There are stacks of little burlap sacks... gold I imagine. Why he hasn't turned them into cash is beyond me.

Seedling and Antonelli work with the gold, stoking the fire and melting enough of the gold to fill the two spots in the Clarok. All the time he is working with it Seedling caresses the gold inlay that is already in place. He marvels at the diamonds and the artwork that make up the basin of the Clarok.

We set to work building a suitable pedestal. Four of us grabbed the handles of the Clarok and held it in position, then Andy took a measurement. Seedling has shoring material in the cavern to work with and an old saw that will do nicely.

In the main chamber, the light is a different story. Even though the quartz crystals transfer the sunlight into the cavern, it is still not focused enough to do the job. Lou has an idea to suspend the smaller crystal that Seedling has and use it to focus the light.

"Just hold on to the rope, don't move it." Lou takes the second rope and crosses over my rope. The other ends are tied off to the stalagmites at the far ends of the cavern. We are crossing above the spot on the floor where Seedling had his kettle... where the light is the strongest.

"Now all we need to do is nest that lense in the cross-hairs and then we can adjust up or down on the stalagmites."

"So... we have to wait until high noon tomorrow just to make an adjustment on this thing?" I don't want to stay here another day. I was hoping for Muerte Verde and scallops tommorow night.

"Relax, Nancy, I think I can get it adjusted with the light we have right now. It will just intensify at high noon. We'll be home before the cocktail flag is up."

We work for hours. Lou makes a cradle for Seedling's lense out of a few fancy knots and a length of rope. It takes some doing but we get him to give it up... even though the offer was there before.

The pedestal is finished shortly thereafter. We all stand around it, holding on to the Clarok... judging the height against the one and only time we utilized it. We all agree that the height is sufficiant. With that complete, and the lense focusing the light in place just waiting for the noon sun to come, we wait for tomorrow.

"So that's it?" Andy puts both hands on his hips and looks up at the lense that we suspended above the pedestal.

"That's it. Let's hope it's enough." I tell him.
"Or what? We're stuck here?"
I look at him, knowing that it was a serious question masked in sarcasm.
"Don't even say that."

Ollie puts a hand on Andy's shoulder.
"Trabajará. Estaremos bien."
Andy looks at the toothy grin and then over to Chris.
"He says it will be okay... we will be all right."
"I just want to get the hell out of here."

Lou looks over from the side of the cavern where he is checking ropes.
"You turned into quite the bad ass, Andy. You can have my back any time."

There is silence as the comment is digested. I don't recall Lou ever paying that compliment to anyone, not in english anyway.

"What are we gonna do for dinner?" Mike asks... I am sure imagining a creation with cactus and scrub grass.

"Someone mention vittles?" Seedling emerges from the adjacent cavern, a pool of sweat and granite dust.

"Yeah, just wondering what the hell we were going to eat tonight." Andy tells him.

"My tribe left me with a couple of venison straps. We can cook those up if'n you boys want."

Mike steps up and empties his pockets of a few weeds and sprigs. Looks like tree trimmings or something you would rake up, but if Mikee has it it must be something good. He walks over as Seedling lifts what looks like a bloody pillowcase up from the saddlebags that had stretched across Ole' Bess.

"Should be good eating." Seed sniffs the bag and then extends it to Mike.
"You're the fella who makes it tasty. Them red-skins don't know your magic, friend."

Mikee pulls one of the straps up out of the bag. A dozen fat flies boil up along with it and all of a sudden I'm not so hungry. But this is the old west and you would have flies on your banana split or a nice piece of pussy, so I let it go.

We spend the rest of the afternoon checking and rechecking. Positioning the Clarok under the waining light coming through the crystals overhead, making sure that we are perfectly centered beneath the focusing lense.

Antonelli brings up an important point about the pedestal we have created out of the shoring material. It is fairly rough on top and we have to lift the Clarok and drop it back down for the resonance. There is work to do to make it a better receiver, rounding out a better well in its surface.

As we work Mike builds a small fire outside and we can smell the beginnings of another masterpiece as it sizzles beneath the night sky. He laments over the fact that there are no vegetables. Seems like it might be a little spartan until Seedling digs back into the saddle bags and pulls out an old tin container about the size of a cake mix box.

"I ain't never tried this.. " He holds it up and looks at the label. "These here are potato flakes. S'pose to put water with 'em and heat it up and it makes mash."

"No shit. You have freeze dried potatoes?" Mike takes the box from Seedling.
"Don't know 'bout the freezin' part, but the dried part is right, I reckon."

"Ohhh man, we are cooking with gas." Mike pops the top of the tin and gives it a sniff. He shrugs. Must be okay.


It is an hour later that our work is done with the pedestal. We have staged our robes and have all marked our positions. The gold that Seedling and Chris had poured in place looks perfect.

I feel bad that Seedling won't be getting the Clarok in return for his efforts. But he has a fortune in gold here already. I think he is too possessed to enjoy it, though. Whatever end he has in mind when he is finished here... when it is "enough" is most likely going to materialize with his death and no one knowing he was even up here.

Mike has taken the venison and diced it up small. The juices and spices he mixes in with the large pan of reconstituted potatoes and the results are worthy of a ten dollar tip. Seedling takes one bite and closes his eyes as though he is having an epiphany of sorts. When he opens them he chews and swallows.

"How'd you do that? Your like one of them big city fellas that cook in those fancy restaurants. But they have a whole building full of stuff and you ain't got none of that."

Mike smiles wide. "I'm glad you like it."

"Now all we need is a little whiskey to wash this down with." Antonelli motions toward the saddle bags. Lou puts a hand up.

"We need to save that until morning."
"Morning?"
"We don't have the full potion that your mom gave us to drink before our journey here, but the bulk of it was alcohol. So I think we better save it until tomorrow and then drink what we have evenly among us."

We still have plenty of water, so we drink that instead. Seedling tells us that the light is brightest just before noon. So we plan to do our drinking at ten or so in the morning and be ready and in place by eleven-thirty.

The fire is down to coals and we are all with our thoughts under the night sky when we hear it. A distant noise, carried a ways with the light breeze. It draws us to our feet and we scramble up the rocks to look back out over the valley we had battled in the day before.

There are almost a dozen camp fire blazings several miles away. From what we can see of the there must be a whole battalion of men. Three of four times the force we encountered the other day.
"Ohhh shit." Lou says in a whisper.
"Well, I don't think they can hear us." I reply.
"We need to get down to where this trail breaks from the main path and cover our tracks. They make it up here before we leave we're as good as dead."

Seedling scrambles up beside us and sees the force in the valley below. He starts to mutter a little song, something about wooden soldiers. Lou turns him and has to give him a little shake to clear his eyes.
"Seed, if you have to blow the entrance to the cavern... seal it up, is there another way out?"

"Blow the entrance?"
"Is there another way out?"
He just stares at Lou for a moment and then nods his head. "It ain't much good for nothing, have to climb up and out, but it'll work if'n it has to. Why, you boys want to blow the entrance now?"

Lou looks back at the flickering fires in the valley.
"If we're lucky we won't have to worry about a thing. But if they discover us we will have to take harsher measures."

Me and Lou, Mike and Ollie, we grab an old straw broom and a rake he used to draw through the granite and quartz he chips out of the cavern and we head down the trail. We intend on covering up our steps, maybe roll a couple of larger chunks of rock or something across the path that leads to the sacred cavern. As we make our way down, we fail to hear or see what is coming up the opposite direction.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE... " We hear the click as hammers are drawn back.
"Hands up, drop what you have there and hold them high."

There are two men on horse back, two soldiers I should say. They aren't suprised to see us.

"Orlis Keene, I don't think we'll be taking you back to town so some judge can hang you. I am thinking that will happen right back at camp here tonight."

We say nothing. I am hoping that Lou is formulating a plan, but from the look he has I suspect that well is dry for the time being.

One of them opens his mouth to say something and he stops short... the whisling of an arrow catches him right through the throat. His rifle drops and his hands go to his throat. Luckily the rifle doesn't fire to alert anyone else.

Before the second man realized what is going on he catches one in the chest, the shaft buried half way in. He looks down at it for a moment, his free hand grasping it, then he falls out of the saddle drives it the rest of the way through as he hits the ground.

"You boys are always getting into trouble." Andy says as he shows himself from his place above us in the rocks. "I thought, what the hell, I'm already a mass murderer here in this place. What's a couple more."

Lou gives him a smile, "You're a warrior, Andy, you would make the tribe proud."
Andy nods.

I start to strip the weapons and ammo and Lou stops me.
"Wait a second. We should take these guys up the trail before anyone misses them. With Andy's handiwork they will think the Indians got them and continue up after them."

"I knew there was a plan in there somewhere."

"Ollie, you set them back up in their saddles. Jake, set those hammers on those weapons to a safe position, then you, Mike, and Andy start brushing your footprints away and see if you can cover the trail with some scrub and rock so it looks like no one has been up that way. We will cut back over the rock when we drop these boys off and meet you back at camp.

We watch as he and Ollie mount up and take their soldiers and horses up the trail. Then we sweep and rake away any evidence of our being here. With any luck at all, they will pass us by and we will be back on the boat for lunch tomorrow.