Captain Fly-by-Night
A Western Rarity
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Captain Fly-by-Night
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Letto da:
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John Rayburn
His great body stretched on the dirt floor in a shady corner of the barracks-room of the presidio…a fortified military settlement…his long moustache drooped, his big mouth open, Sergeant Carlos Cassara snored.
His face was purple from wine and the heat; for the air was still and stagnant this siesta hour, and empty vessels on the table nearby told of the deep drinking that had been done.
Scattered about were a corporal and a dozen soldiers, all sleeping and snoring. Against the wall, half a score of feet from the slumbering sergeant, an Indian neophyte…a new entrant…had dropped his palm-leaf and was glancing around the room from beneath eyelids that seemed about to close.
Outside was the red dust, a foot deep on the highway, and the burning sun. The fountain before the mission splashed lazily; down at the beach it seemed that the tide had not its usual energy. Neophytes slept in the shadows cast by the mission walls. Here and there a robed friar went about his business despite the heat and the hour. There was no human being travelling El Camino Real—the king’s highway—as far as a man with good eyes could see. You can hear the whole story.
Public Domain (P)2024 John D. Rayburn