did the wolves run: the Mexican, casting one glance in our direction, sprang upon his donkey and away he went, at a pace that was surprising considering the respective sizes of man and beast.
It was in vain that Dick ran out from under our tree and shouted after him something in Spanish. I could distinguish the word, amigos, two or three times repeated, but the man took no notice. Perhaps he did not believe in friendships so suddenly declared. At any rate, he neither looked back nor slackened his pace, and in a minute or less he and his faithful steed vanished into the timber on the south side of the clearing.
The whole incident had not occupied five minutes; but for the presence of the two dead wolves one would have been tempted to believe it had never happened at all – solitude and silence reigned once more.
"Well, wasn't that a queer thing!" cried Dick.
"It certainly was," I replied. "I wonder who the man is. Anyhow, he's not coming back, so let's go and pick up his arrow."
CHAPTER IV
Racing the Storm
Walking over to where the two wolves lay, we soon found the arrow, its head buried out of sight in the hard ground, showing with what force it had come from the bow. It was carefully made of a bit of some hard wood, scraped down to the proper diameter, and fitted with three feathers – eagle feathers, Dick said – one-third as long as the shaft, very neatly bound on with some kind of fine sinew.
"Looks like a Ute arrow," remarked my companion, as he stooped to pick it up; "yet the man was a Mexican, I am sure. I suppose he must have got it from the Indians."
"Do the Utes use copper arrow-heads?" I asked.
"No, they don't. They use iron or steel nowadays. Why do you ask?"
"Because this arrow-head is copper," I replied.
"Why, so it is!" cried Dick, rubbing the soil from the point on his trouser-leg. "That's very odd. I never saw one before. I feel pretty sure the Indians never use copper: it is too soft. This bit seems to take an edge pretty well, though. See, the point doesn't seem to have been damaged by sticking into the ground; and it has been filed pretty sharp, too; or, what is more likely, rubbed sharp on a stone. It has evidently been made by hand from a piece of native copper."
"I wonder why the man should choose to use copper," said I. "Though when you come to think of it, Dick," I added, "I don't see why it shouldn't make a pretty good arrow-head. It is soft metal, of course, but it is only soft by comparison with other metals. This wedge of copper weighs two or three ounces, and it is quite hard enough to go through the hide of an animal at twenty or thirty yards' distance when 'fired' with the force that this one was."
"That's true. And I expect the explanation is simple enough why the man uses copper. It is probably from necessity and not from choice. Like nearly all Mexicans of the peon class, he probably never has a cent of money in his possession. Consequently, as he can't buy a gun, he uses a bow; and for the same reason, being unable to procure iron for arrow-heads, he uses copper. I expect he comes from the settlement at the foot of the valley, for copper is a very common metal down there."
"Why should it be more common there than elsewhere?" I asked.
"Well, that's the question – and a very interesting question, too. The professor and I were down in that neighborhood about a year ago, and on going into the village we were a good deal surprised to find that every household seemed to possess a bowl or a pot or a cup or a dipper or all four, perhaps, hammered out of native copper – all of them having the appearance of great age. There were dozens of them altogether."
"How do they get them?" I asked.
"That's the question again – and the Mexicans themselves don't seem to know. They say, if you ask them, that they've always had them. And the professor did ask them. He went into one house after another and questioned the people, especially the old people, as to where the copper came from; but none of them could give him any information. I wondered why he should be so persevering in the matter – though when there is anything he desires to learn, no trouble is too much for him – but after we had left the place he explained it all to me, and then I ceased to wonder."
"What was his explanation, then?"
"He told me that when he was in Santa Fé about fifteen years before, he made the acquaintance of a Spanish gentleman of the remarkable name of Blake – "
"Blake!" I interrupted. "That's a queer name for a Spaniard."
"Yes," replied Dick. "The professor says he was a descendant of one of those Irishmen who fled to the continent in the time of William III, of England, most of them going into the service of the king of France and others to other countries – Austria and Spain in particular."
"Well, go ahead. Excuse me for interrupting."
"Well, this gentleman was engaged in hunting through the old Spanish records kept there in Santa Fé, looking up something about the title to a land-grant, I believe, and he told the professor that in the course of his search he had frequently come across copies of reports to the Spanish government of shipments of copper from a mine called the King Philip mine. That it was a mine of importance was evident from the frequency and regularity of the 'returns,' which were kept up for a number of years, until somewhere about the year 1720, if I remember rightly, they began to become irregular and then suddenly ceased altogether."
"Why?"
"There was no definite statement as to why; but from the reports it appeared that the miners were much harried by the Indians, sometimes the Navajos and sometimes the Utes, while the loss, partial or total, of two or three trains with their escorts, seemed to bring matters to a climax. Shipments ceased and the mine was abandoned."
"That's interesting," said I. "And where was this King Philip mine?"
"The gentleman could not say. There seemed to be no map or description of any kind among the records; but from casual statements, such as notes of the trains being delayed by floods in this or that creek, or by snow blockades on certain passes, he concluded that the mine was somewhere up in this direction."
"Well, that is certainly very interesting. And the professor, I suppose, concludes that the Mexicans down there at – What's the name of the place?"
"Hermanos – called so after the two peaks, at the foot of which it stands."
"The professor concludes, I suppose, that the Mexicans' unusual supply of copper pots and pans came originally from the King Philip mine."
"Yes; and I've no doubt they did; though the Mexicans themselves had never heard of such a mine. Yet – and it shows how names will stick long after people have forgotten their origin – yet, just outside the village there stands a big, square adobe building, showing four blank walls to the outside, with a single gateway cut through one of them, flat-roofed and battlemented – a regular fortress – and it is called to this day the Casa del Rey: – the King's House. Now, why should it be called the King's House? The Mexicans have no idea; but to me it seems plain enough. The King Philip mine was probably a royal mine, and the residence of the king's representative, the storage-place for the product of the mine, the headquarters of the soldier escort, would naturally be called the King's House."
"It seems likely, doesn't it? Is that the professor's opinion?"
"Yes. He feels sure that the King Philip mine is not far from the village; possibly – in fact, probably – in the Dos Hermanos mountains."
"And
