Mystery of the Haunted Mine

4 Canyon of the Skull

The sun was in full spate against the eastern side of the Espectros. Gary had stopped the jeep against a perpendicular wall of rock. As he turned the engine off, the silence, with the exception of the softly murmuring wind, seemed to descend upon the empty countryside. The wide gap of the watercourse was to the north of them. Lobo, already on his way, was threading easily through the cactus and greasewood clumps.

"You sure that's the place, Gary?"

Gary nodded. He tapped the side of his head, "The map is in here."

"Lots of room for it in there," cracked Sue. She swallowed hard as she saw the looks they shot at her.

"Funny, oh funny," said Tuck.

"Just what are we looking for?" she asked.

There was no use in trying to deceive Sue Browne. She had the native shrewdness of the Brownes. "Arrastres," said Gary.

She nodded wisely. "Makes sense. I never could see fooling around The Needle. That so-called mining symbol in there isn't even a mining symbol from what I've heard. Now…" Her voice died away as she saw the intent looks on the faces of her companions.

"Just what do you mean, Sue?" asked Tuck.

"Well, when I was at summer camp, the cocinero there was an old man who said he had often looked in the Espectros for the lost mines. He said it was a waste of time looking about The Needle. He said he had heard about that sign in there you were supposed to see about four o'clock in the afternoon in August or September. Well, according to him it was just a big split in the rock."

"He knows so much," said Tuck angrily.

She placed her hands on her slim hips. "Sure he does! He said it wasn't likely those old miners would make a signboard pointing right to the canyon the mine was in. That would be a little more than stupid, wouldn't it?"

Tuck looked at Gary; Gary looked right back at Tuck.

Sue slung a canteen strap over her shoulder and picked up her big lunch bag, fastening it to her belt. "So, where there are arrastres, there must be a mine. Right?"

"Right!" they chorused.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sue took off briskly.

Tuck folded an arm across his lean stomach, rested his other elbow on it, then cupped his chin in his hand. He watched his cousin trudging through the cactus and greasewood. "Well, I'll be drowned in sheep dip," he said slowly.

Gary took the rifle, binoculars, and haversack from the jeep. "Get the rest of the stuff," he said. "Let's give her a good lead. Maybe she'll get lost."

"With that lunch! Sue isn't much for looks or anything else, but her mother can put up the best lunch you ever saw, amigo!"

They followed the slim girl through the growths. Lobo was waiting for them at the mouth of the dry watercourse. He trotted ahead of them as they fought their way through a tangle of catclaw. By the time they reached more open ground the heat of the day was pouring into the narrow canyon ahead of them.

"How far ahead?" asked Tuck.

Gary pointed to the huge, naked bluff that seemed to block the passage of the stream about one mile ahead of them.

"Funny I never heard of arrastres being in here," said Tuck. "Seems like someone would have spoken about them."

It didn't take them long to find out why the arrastres had been a secret for so long. Detritus had fallen from the huge overhanging walls of the canyon and had formed treacherous slopes of loose sliding rock, interlaced with catclaw and wait-a-bit bush that tore at their clothing and ripped their skin. Only Lobo seemed immune to the sharp thorns. At one point it seemed as though they would have to turn back until Lobo casually trotted around behind a huge split boulder. When they followed him they found themselves in a sort of natural passageway, affording barely enough room to squeeze through. After a zigzag passage they came out upon a flat rock area where they could see the bluff towering above them. Here the passage of the stream bed seemed unimpeded.

"Must have been easier to get in here years ago," said Gary thoughtfully. "No wonder these arrastres have never been seen in modern times."

"Except by Lije," said Tuck.

Sue turned. "Lije Purtis?" she asked.

Tuck nodded. "We talked to him this morning. He brought Gary's rifle back."

"From where?" she asked. "I never saw Gary leave that precious .30/30 of his anywhere."

Gary could have hit Tuck with a rock. That girl had an inquiring nose like an anteater.

"From where?" asked Sue again. She eyed them. "I'll bet you went into the canyon near The Needle yesterday sometime."

"You know a lot," scoffed Tuck.

"What happened in there? How come Gary left his rifle in there?"

"Nothing happened in there!" snapped Tuck.

"Then you were in there!" she said triumphantly.

She had trapped Tuck neatly, and that wasn't easy to do. She sat down on a rock and studied them.

"So help me," said Tuck. "If you didn't have that lunch I'd leave you here."

"You can't leave me here! Besides, I'm not afraid of Asesino."

"Oh no?" snarled Tuck. "If he took a shot at you like he did at us last night you'd run like a striped bird, you would…" His voice died away. A panicky look came over his thin face. "Oh, Lord," he continued. "Now I did it."

Her eyes sparkled. "I wish I had been there!"

"So help me, Sue," breathed Tuck, "if you open your mouth around my folks — or Gary's folks— about this, I'll never talk to you again!"

She half closed her eyes. "Well, I'll consider it," she said.

Gary picked up his rifle and walked on. He would willingly have left both of them behind. He followed Lobo through the brush and to the bank of the dry watercourse. Up and down he went, then across to the far bank and up and down that. Nothing, absolutely nothing. The words of Tuck came back to him: "So we go chasing off after a wild goose to the east of the Espectros for some beat up old arrastres while Ol' Lije goes the other way."

The others joined him, and for two hours they searched every foot of the ground with no results. The sun was at its zenith when they stopped. "Hopeless," said Tuck. "I was right all the time."

They ate their lunch in gloomy silence. Sue didn't eat much; she never did. She left the spoils to Tuck, whose appetite was never spoiled by anything. It was almost a relief for the two boys to see her fade off into the brush. Gary sent Lobo after her.

"Blind alley again," said Tuck around a mouthful of cake.

"Yeh." Gary shook his head. "Maybe Sue is a hoodoo."

"Figures."

A wild shriek echoed through the quiet canyon. Gary moved like a flash, snatching up his rifle, then hurdling a rock. He dashed through the clinging brush heedless of the piercing thorns. He twisted his ankle on a loose rock footing, then burst into a clearing high on the slope. He could see a dim figure beyond the clearing, jumping up and down. It was Sue. Gary levered a round into the Winchester, then suddenly lowered it. Lobo had come out of the brush and was trotting toward Gary with what passed for a pleased look on his ugly black face. Nothing serious could be wrong with Sue. Gary walked toward her. She was dancing about like an awkward marionette on a string. "Eureka!" she shrieked. Her voice echoed through the canyon like that of a banshee.

Gary winced at the piercing sound of her voice. She was pointing down at her feet. Gary leaned his rifle against a tree after emptying the chamber. He eyed a shallow circular trough worn into the hard ground. To one side was a narrow trough that angled off toward the dry bed of the watercourse. The circular trough was rimmed with low piles of material. There was little doubt in Gary's mind as to what he was looking at.

"Is it what we're looking for?" asked Sue.

He looked up at her and smiled. "It's an arrastre all right. The circular trough was made by burros pulling a stone to crush the ore. The other trough brought in water."

Tuck came toward them. "What is it?" he called out.

"See for yourself, Tuckie!" cried Sue.

"Tuckie!" said Tuck. He rolled his eyes upward. He looked down at the arrastre. "What is it, Gary?"

"Arrastre, Tuck."

"You sure?"

Gary nodded. He looked up at the towering walls of the isolated canyon. "What else could it be?"

"Yeh," said Tuck. He looked at Sue. "Stumbled on it, eh, Susie?"

She shook her head. "Look," she said. She led the way to a rock at one side of a scarcely definable trail. There was a faint dark mark upon it. "This mark was evidently made by a mule shoe striking it. I found the trail, then found several other marks like the first one and walked right to here."

"Just like that?"

She nodded. "Just like that." She felt in a pocket of her Levi's and brought out a curved and badly rusted piece of metal. She held it up. "Found this halfway up the trail."

Gary took it from her hand. "Piece of a burro shoe," he said quietly. "Too small for a mule or a horse."

"Now what?" asked Tuck.

It was very quiet in the canyon except for the humming of the wild bees and the soft soughing of the wind that rustled the leaves. Gary walked to the west, parting the brush. Fifty feet from the first arrastre he stumbled into a hollow in the ground. It was another arrastre. There wasn't much doubt about their age. No modern miners would have made them. But Gary had seen other arrastres in other parts of the Espectros and they had led to nothing. But this was a part of the Espectros hardly visited by anyone. Gary had never heard any talk about mines in this area.

Sue and Tuck came up behind him. "Scatter," he said. "See what else we can find. Don't get too far from each other. Lobo, go with Sue."

An hour passed slowly, then Tuck came to Gary, holding another badly rusted burro shoe in his hand. The ends of the shoe had been flared out. He handed it to Gary. "Found it up the trail. Pretty rough in there. I poked around but it's impossible to see where the trail goes. What do you think of this shoe?"

"It's definitely of Spanish pattern. See the flared ends? They still make the same pattern shoe in Mexico to this day though."

"Big help, eh?" said Tuck disgustedly. "Could have been left here at most any time."

Sue came through the brush. "I don't think so, Tuck. If they don't make that type of shoe around here, it isn't likely anyone would bring up a burro or mule from Mexico to go joyriding around here in the past thirty or forty years, is it?"

"There she goes again," said Tuck.

Gary hefted the shoe. "She's got something there. With this and the arrastres we don't need much more proof that miners were in here. Spanish miners…"

"But no trail," said Tuck.

Gary nodded. He looked up at the forbidding south wall of the deep canyon. "There has to be a trail!" He walked to the south, following the faint trace of the ancient trail. When he reached the place where it petered out he could see that Tuck had been right. It just vanished completely. He got down on his hands and knees and peered through the brush trying to find a continuation of the trail. He tried the old trick of half closing his eyes and then suddenly opening them, hoping to catch an elusive glimpse of the trail, but the trail was just as elusive as the mysterious light he had seen several times up the canyon beyond The Needle. There was no trail, and yet there had to be one. If there were arrastres there must be a mine, or mines, even if they had been worked out.

It was a downhearted boy who walked back to the others. "I can't figure it out," he said.

Tuck had the field glasses, and with them he was slowly scanning the canyon wall inch by inch. "I thought perhaps we'd see a trace of another canyon opening into this one," he said, "but this country is so rough and broken up it's impossible to say whether there are any other canyons beyond this one."

"There's something else over here!" called out Sue.

They walked over to see her standing in front of what looked like tumbled walls of stonework. The walls had been formed in a small rectangle, hardly more than ten or twelve feet long by six or seven feet wide. Amidst the litter in the middle of it protruded several broken poles. "Rafters," said Gary. "The roof collapsed inside the building, whatever it was."

"There's one way to find out what it was," said Sue. She placed a long leg over the wall and began to pitch out stones and beams, heedless of the two boys. They started to help her. They uncovered several rusted pots, a broken bucket, a skillet thoroughly eaten through by rust, a pair of husk sandals and a broken pick handle. Gary sat back on his heels and shoved back his hat. "Doesn't mean much," he said. "You can't really tell how long this stuff has been in here. Might have been in the last twenty years. Nothing to show Spanish origin."

"And nothing to sell to a museum," said Tuck. He shook his head.

"Look," said Sue in a hollow voice. She pointed just beyond the back wall. Something white showed in the brush. There wasn't any doubt as to what it was. Gary stepped over the crumbling wall and knelt beside the skeleton. The clothing was rotten with exposure, and there was nothing to indicate how long it had been there. One part was missing — the skull.

Sue was a little pale. "It's getting late," she said. "Maybe we'd better head back."

Tuck grinned. "Heck, it's not more than two o'clock, Susie. Gary and I were thinking of staying until after dark."

Gary looked up toward the canyon wall. Through the moving leaves of the scrub trees and the brush he could see a huge boulder with a whitish excresence atop it. Something drew him toward that boulder, and he walked about fifty yards before he stood in front of it looking up at the whitish object. It was a bleached skull. He climbed up beside it and picked it up. A cold feeling of fear shot through him. The back of the skull had evidently been shattered by something. A bullet from a heavy-caliber rifle…

The hollow eyeholes of the gruesome relic stared up at him as though in warning. Gary suddenly had an uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He looked quickly about. There was no sign of life. He wet his dry lips and slid down to the ground, still holding the skull. He walked through the shadowy grove of trees to the tumbled ruins. Sue's breath caught in her throat as she saw what Gary held in his hands.

Tuck was squatting by the headless skeleton. "Hey," he said over his shoulder. "I found a belt buckle. Initials J. B." He turned to look at them and his face blanched. "Where'd you get that?" he said hollowly.

"Up there on that boulder," said Gary.

It seemed unnaturally quiet just at that moment. An uneasy sort of a stillness had closed in on them.

Something rustled. The two boys darted glances at Sue. "I found a newspaper," she said in a very small voice. "A Tucson paper dated July 10, 1949."

"About twelve years ago," said Tuck. He looked at Gary and Gary knew well enough what he was thinking. Twelve years ago two men had been looking for The Lost Espectro. They had vanished and one of them had been found some weeks later with what appeared to be a bullet hole from a large-caliber rifle through the back of his skull. The other man had never been found. Gary looked down at the skull in his hands. Maybe he had been found at last.

"Come to think of it," said Tuck. "It is getting late."

Sue nodded vigorously.

Gary hefted the skull. No animal had hauled that skull from the body to place it high on that boulder facing toward the camp. It just wasn't natural. Maybe it had been placed as a warning. Whoever guarded the hidden secrets of the Espectros couldn't be everywhere at once to do his self-appointed duty. Maybe he left these little relics around to hold the fort while he was busy elsewhere.

A thick, dark cloud came between the sun and the mountains, and darkness seemed to fill the canyon like the settling veil of night. Without a word the three explorers turned to walk back toward the arrastres. Gary picked up his rifle. None of them spoke. The wind increased, moaning eerily through the canyon.

Lobo led the way, trotting easily, but even the big mastiff seemed a little nervous. It wasn't until they were threading the narrow, natural passageway that the dog stopped suddenly and looked back beyond the three of them. His hackles rose and he bared his strong, yellow teeth. A low, fierce growling came deep from his throat.

Tuck grabbed Sue by the arm and shoved her ahead. "Get out of the way," he said fiercely. He turned to stand beside Gary. Gary loaded his rifle. They could hear Sue's stumbling footsteps. Lobo growled again. "Go on, Tuck," said Gary quietly. "You'd better stick with Sue."

"What about you?"

"I've got the rifle and Lobo."

Tuck swallowed hard. "I'll stay," he said hoarsely.

"Go with Sue!" snapped Gary.

Tuck moved on. Lobo moved quietly back along the passageway, ears flat and head thrust forward. Gary wet his lips. It was almost like dusk in the canyon. He glanced up at the cloud. It was then that he saw a movement high above him. "Lobo!" he yelled. The dog darted back. Gary ran like a deer. A moment later a huge rock crashed in the narrow passageway, scattering shards far and wide. One of them struck Gary in the middle of the back. The sound of the crashing rock echoed through the canyon.

Gary tore through the clinging brush, heedless of the clutching thorns. He saw Tuck and Sue far ahead of him and an intense loneliness gripped him. He slipped and fell on the loose detritus, almost landing in a deep gully to one side. He scuttled back up the slope and plunged toward the open area to the east. He reached a flat area and turned to see Lobo standing on the detritus looking back into the inner canyon. He was growling again. "Come on, Lobo!" he cried. The big dog turned and trotted toward his master.

Gary looked up at the place the rock had fallen from. There was no sign of life up there; nothing to indicate that the rock had been pushed by human hands. An icy finger seemed to trace the length of his spine. If Gary had not seen the first movement of the falling rock he would certainly have been crushed by it.

He walked slowly down out of the wide mouth of the canyon. Far ahead of him were the figures of Tuck and Sue. It seemed as though every time he found a clue to the mystery of the Lost Espectro Mine, something interfered. Maybe it was true that there was a curse on the Lost Mine of the Espectros. The local Mexicans called it Oro Encantado, or Haunted Gold. Gary was beginning to believe they had just cause for their belief.

The first drops of rain struck them as they climbed into the jeep. In a few minutes the rain was sheeting down, and by the time Gary reached the main highway he had been forced to use low gear and four-wheel drive. The battered jeep groaned and lurched through the thickening adobe mud. Behind them the Espectros were sheathed in mist and rain, and thunder pealed and rolled through the hidden gorges.

Sue shivered. "I'm glad we got out of there when we did," she said.

Tuck peeled off his jacket and handed it to her. "Yeh," he said quietly. He looked at Gary. "What do you think Lobo was growling at?"

"Quien sabe?"

"I had a feeling all the time we were in there that we were being watched," said Tuck.

Gary nodded. He glanced toward the mountains. "There's something in there all right."

"Like what?" asked Sue.

"Gold," said Gary.

"And ghosts."

Something rattled in the bottom of the jeep. Sue gingerly picked up the bullet-shattered skull. "'Alas, poor Yorick'" she said. "'I knew him well.'"

"There she goes again," said Tuck. "I knew it!"

It was dark by the time they reached the Cole Ranch. Rain slanted down steadily and a cold wind drove across the soaked desert. The three of them took the relics into the little room next to Gary's bedroom. "I'll tell my father about what we found," said Gary. "He'll probably notify the sheriff about the skull."

"What do you think the sheriff will do?" asked Tuck.

Gary shrugged. "They never solved the death of the other man who was found with a hole through the back of his head. It isn't likely they'll find out any more about this one."

Tuck took his jacket from Sue. "Well, I've got to get back. You taking Sue home, Gary?"

"Yes."

Sue's braces glistened in the light as she smiled widely. Lots of girls in The Wells would have liked to ride in Gary Cole's jeep on a wet night even if the top did leak.

"It was my mother's idea," said Gary hastily.

"Yeh… that's what I figured," said Tuck.

Gary gave Sue a jacket and one of his mother's raincoats. As they walked out to the jeep they heard the roaring of the Honda, and Tuck Browne slithered along the road heading toward the highway, riding as though the Devil were treading on his coattails.

Halfway to the main highway, Sue kept looking back over her shoulder with a puzzled look on her face. "Is there an air-warning beacon on or near The Needle, Gary?" she asked.

He shook his head, intent on his driving.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive! Why do you ask?"

She eyed him. "Because I just saw a flickering light up the canyon past The Needle."

He nearly went off the road, turned the wheel into the direction of the skid and brought the jeep back to the center of the road. He braked it to a halt and turned to look back. The Needle thrust itself up, looming in the wet darkness. There was no sign of a light up that mysterious canyon.

"What's wrong, Gary?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing." He started the jeep and drove on. The lure of the Espectros was opposed to the mystery and death that shrouded them. It had held his great-grandfather's interest and his own father's interest, and now it had claimed his as well. He knew there would be no turning back for him now, or ever.