DR. THORNE'S LOST MINE

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS CLASSICS

Army post was lost to sight. As they traveled westward, the doctor noticed that the Indians took more and more precautions against danger and attack, and he realized with surprise that they were traveling through territory that was hostile even to these Apaches. At night, they made no campfire, and they kept watch in a way that amazed the surgeon. Never again, he thought, would he feel safe in an Army camp where the sentries marched up and down, kicking brush and stumbling in the darkness, making so much noise that an enemy could creep up on them unnoticed. The Apaches kept watch in a very different manner. The three warriors would lie down to sleep in a small circle, so close together that they could touch each other with an outstretched arm. While the other two slept, one warrior lay awake listening, and with his ear near the ground, he could hear sounds from a much greater distance than if he had been sitting up or standing. When his watch was up, he touched his com-panion, and the watch was changed silently and without movement. The first two nights, Dr. Thorne slept in his bedroll just outside the circle. But on the third night, his feeling of com-radeship with the Indians was so strong that he could not help moving his bedroll into the circle. He waited tensely to see whether they would accept him. The three Apache war-riors made room for the doc-tor without comment and immediately went to sleep. The first watch was Dr. Thorne's the three Indians had entrusted him with their lives for one quarter of the night. But though the Apaches trust-ed the doctor to guard them while they slept, they would not allow him to see the land-marks that pointed the trail into their home country. On the fourth morning, as they left camp, one of the warriors rode up and pointed to the doctor's

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bandanna. Wondering what it was about, Dr. Thorne took the kerchief from around his neck and handed it to the Apache. The Indian casually rolled up the bandanna and tied it around the white man's eyes. Involuntarily, the doctor reached up to tear the blindfold away, but the strong fingers of the Apache gently pushed his hand down. All that day, the doctor's horse was led by an Indian. The young surgeon knew they were climb-ing into rough high country, for he could feel the cool breeze and smell the pungent odor of pine. Later they took a precipitous trail down into lower country, and the doctor knew they were following a stream because he could hear the gurgle of the water. Toward evening the murmur of many voices reached his ears, and suddenly the horses stopped. An Apache rode up and removed the blindfold. Dr. Thorne blinked and looked around him. He was in an Apache rancheria. He had reached the end of the trail on his mission of mercy. For a moment, the young doctor stared at the Apache men, women, and children who ran up to stare at him - and for a moment, his curiosity was as great as theirs. But as he looked down into the upturned faces, and his eyes traveled from one to another, he was conscious of only one sensation - a feeling of shock that was like a physical blow. Nearly every pair of eyes that looked at him was in-fected with the dread trachoma.

But Dr. Thorne soon discovered that he had to fight for the right to treat these stricken people. The next morning, when he went to work in the new wickiup built for him by the Apache women, several warriors, including the chief, came to have their eyes attended to. But when these patients were gone, no others came to take their places. Dr. Thorne waited awhile, and then, deciding that his procedure must be wrong, he picked up his medicine kit and went out. He had taken only a few steps when he passed a small boy with badly inflamed eyes. The doctor stopped, but before he could even speak to the child, an Indian woman ran out of a nearby wickiup and, dragging the little boy behind her, stared at the white doctor with both fear and defiance.

The doctor was conscious of a sudden unnatural silence. Bewildered, he looked around and saw that the entire tribe seemed to be assembled in the camp street. They were watching him furtively, but their real attention was riveted on a proud old man wearing a headdress of eagle feathers. He stood with folded arms - his cold and glittering eyes filled with hate, fixed on the doctor. So, at last, Dr. Thorne was face to face with the medicine man. And he did not have to be told that if this old man remained his enemy, most of the tribe would go blind. He realized, with a feeling of both anger and frustration, that he alone could never hope to conquer the religious fears of the Apaches.

his country. He will be the only medicine man among all the Apaches who will have the power to prevent his people from going blind." The doctor turned on his heel and went quickly to his wickiup. He did not want the Indians to see anxiety written on his face for in his heart he knew that if this failed, there was nothing else he could do. At sunset the medicine man came to the doctor's wickiup. The old man made no explanation, but he brought with him the boy the doctor had encountered that morning, and Dr. Thorne understood that he was to go ahead with his treatments.

For the next four months, Dr. Thorne labored unceasingly, driving the infection from the Indians' eyes and teaching the old medicine man how to handle the healing solutions. And finally the day came when he felt his work was done. A tired and weary man, he went to the chief of the tribe and said he was ready to return home. The next morning at dawn, Dr. Thorne found his pack mule and horse before his wickiup, and his three guides waiting. All the tribe was there to tell him goodbye, and on their faces he could see their gratitude for what he had done and their sadness at his going. Thorne rode away from them with a feeling of deep peace.

How could he get the medicine man on his side? Dr. Thorne beckoned to the warrior who spoke Spanish. "Tell the medicine man," he said, "that I will give him my medicine and show him how to put it into the sore eyes of your people, so that he can heal them himself. If he will do this, I will leave him much medicine, and he will never have to call a white doctor into When they were outside the camp, one of his Indian guides grinned and pointed at the bandanna, and Dr. Thorne, with a smile of understanding, started to tie the blindfold over his own eyes. Then he hesitated and impulsively looked back for one last glimpse of the rancheria, which lay so tranquil and secure in the heart of this vast and beautiful wilderness. He was suddenly filled with a sense of irreparable loss, and he quickly tied the bandanna in place, lest the Indians see the tears that might come into his eyes.

The doctor rode away from the rancheria slumped over his He rubbed his eyes and saw that they were in a canyon with high walls that glittered in the sunlight.

saddle, deep in his melancholy thoughts. And when, in less than an hour, his horse stopped, and the blindfold was removed, Dr. Thorne was completely at a loss. He rubbed his eyes and saw that they were in a canyon with high walls that glittered in the sunlight. He looked questioningly at his Indian companions, and he found them grinning at him and holding up big chunks of yellow rock that they were picking up from the sand wash. One of them said triumphantly, "Pesh-la-chi! For You!" and put something in his hand.

Dr. Thorne looked at it without comprehension. He turned it over several times, and his eyes widened with amazement. It was a gold nugget. Dazedly, he gazed at the sand wash, and saw that it was covered with nuggets the stamping feet of the horses were kicking the golden stones around.

Sweat broke out on the doctor's hands. Slowly his eyes moved up the canyon wall, and he saw it was rose quartz, flecked with gold. He said softly, "A gold mine."

The idea that he could become a rich man had never before occurred to Dr. Thorne. Now, staring at this mountain of gold, the thought struck him full force. The possibility of enormous wealth instantly took hold of him as an accomplished fact, and like a man who has been moved miraculously from one planet to another, his mind spread out to encompass a new and intoxicating world.

Dr. Thorne looked down at his Indian companions to express his joy, when suddenly he was paralyzed with a deadly chain of thought. "The blindfold - it's their country - they won't let me take out any more than I can carry away now."

Showing their pleasure, the Indians pressed the gold nuggets into the doctor's hands and began to pile them into his saddle bags. Forcing himself to appear disinterested, Dr. Thorne threw the nuggets away.

"Pesh-la-chi! Yellow metal!" cried the bewildered Indians.

Dr. Thorne shook his head. "No rock."

He motioned the Indians to get going, and all the time his sharp eyes were taking in landmarks. Before they tied the blindfold over his eyes, he had noted in the distance a high mountain crowned with a rocky formation that looked like a sombrero. He was sure he could find it again.

On the way back to the post, the Indians could not travel fast enough for Dr. Thorne. When they stopped to make camp, he urged them to go just a little farther. At night he was so impatient that he could hardly sleep, but he did not take his turn at the watch, for he