Book II, Chapter VIII of the Spy Company. A story of the Mexican War by Archibald Clever and Gunter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon. Book II, Chapter VIII. To save him, I spare her. During this, Harry, who has sauntered to the side of Miss Godfrey, is whispering to her effusively and proudly in backwards candor. High ye, look at Carmelita trying to scalp Hampton. The cap's all was the high hand with the gals. But don't let that worry ye. Didn't I see two of the prettiest poblanas in San Antones slash each other nigh into cat meat with machetes, because the cap wouldn't look at either of them? Bless your son, Bonnet. Sharps as fastidious with women kind as a coyote is with pisoned venison. Apparently, this eulogy does not impress Miss Godfrey over favorably. As Carmelita makes her a Jew to the crowd, Estrella raises her voice, a slight coldness in it, and addresses the object of wild harries and comiums, saying, I think I'll go in. Frontier Gayety rather fatigues me, Captain Hampton. So passing up the rickety stairway accompanied by the ranger officer, who has called the Negro boys to carry her baggage, she reaches the balcony of the Goliad house. Here's Elma having come at her call. She points to the bundles and hastily directs. Pack these very carefully for our journey. Then turning to Hampton, she nonchalantly remarks, I believe you said five o'clock in the morning was the hour of our departure? At that time you will find Elma and me ready. The fluttering of dainty skirts indicates she has departed. To this cool adieu, Hampton takes off his hat politely, and minus the young lady's presence remarks ruefully to himself. Well, I'm hanged.  He comes down the steps rather moodily to be joined by Wild Harry, who whispers in an impressive tone, mighty fine gal, that's ah, would be fine even in Tennessee. Then goes on buoyantly. I've been saying a good word for you, Cap. Getting no answer to this, he chuckles. Snakes and gators. How that dancing gal does hate Jim Godfrey's lily daughter. Why the devil should Carmelita hate Miss Godfrey? asks Hampton savagely. You, is the curt but suggestive rejoinder. Ever since down in Madam Morris, you saved Carmelita a licking from her patron. She's grown as slickty as cat amounts, aren't a catnip. Nonsense, you're crazy, Wild Harry. Not much. Folks think I'm out of my cabesa, but I ain't. I'm only cute, real cute. Cute as a coyote, that's all. Tother one's kinder taken with your two.  But the glanza of the ranger Captain grows colder, as somewhat later in the evening he sees lopin' down the street on a dusty and hard-written charger, handsome young palim of maize dragoons, who checks his horse suddenly in front of the Goliad house, throws his reins to the orderly that is following him, and with clanking sabre and jingling spurs springs up the rickety stairs of the hotel. As the dragoon is admitted by Selma, Hampton mutters, Sotovoce, by the Lord. That's why she choked me off so short. Didn't want my presence to put a damper upon young West Point's honeyed speeches, and grows much more downhearted than he has need to be. For the ranger's backwoods life, away from the artifices, affectations, and emotions that give uncertainty, yet charm to the fair sex, has taught him little about the varying moods of maidenhood. For chance with greater experience, he would be happier than he is this evening, though he has not heard wild Harry's panjiric, and does not know how good a word that harem scarim frontiersman has said for him. Anyhow, no matter how she treats me, she needs me, and I'm her man till I've placed her safe in her father's arms, says this night of the prairies, quietly to himself, though as he steps down the street to look after his outfit and equipment for the morrow's journey, chanceing to light a very fine Havana, he finds it extremely bitter in his mouth. A providence as other blows for the ranger's heart this evening. The fives and drums are sounding the distant revelry from Taylor's camp. Its baggage wagons are parked ready for morning departure. Its provost guard is rounding up those absent from the lines without leave preparatory to early marching on the morrow. The night has fallen on the frontier outpost town, making it even more repulsive to the eyes of the young lady transplanted from the north than it had been in sunshine.  The young officer has chatted long and earnestly with her, telling her of his life on the plains of Nebraska and in the wilderness of Iowa, where he has been scouting during most of the two years since he saw her at Saratoga. His eyes have spoken more than his words, indicating that perchance his tongue might say a great deal. Did he not deem it wise to chain it upon the commencement of a campaign, which makes it hardly fair to ask a girl to endure the agonies of a soldier's fiancée? What Miss Godfrey knows just as well as she did in Saratoga, what this right-eyed, handsome fellow would say to her. She knows also that she has had his heart while he has been away from her. At least she thinks she has. This causes her to be tender to him as he asks anxiously. Your sure, Captain Hampton, has made every arrangement for your safe journey. Certain as that he has the experience, to know what I require, replies the young lady, why the ranger has even broken a horse for my special riding with skirts, and has taught me to shoot a pistol so I can hit the bullseye once in a while. He's making a frontier girl of me. She adds, laughingly. At this pleasant information, Mr. Pelham looks very grave. But says generously, yes, he's doing the right thing by you. He's probably the very best man on the border to make your journey across the prairies safe. Just here, a corporal dashes up and saluting, cries, Lieutenant Pelham, but cartoon are having a hard time up at the General Jackson Saloon. The noise of a scuffle between some drunken soldiers and the troopers of the Provost Guard, who are trying to round them up at a neighboring grog shop, produces from the girl a slightly frightened exclamation, and from the officer a mental curse. You'll excuse me for a moment, Ms. Godfrey, says the dragoon. I've got to look after this, but I'll be back in a minute. The lieutenants brings down the steps, leaving Estrella shuddering at the sights and noises of a frontier town in the full glory of its faro splendor. The windows of all the gambling saloons are raised, the night being hot. From them the noise of carousing men and the execrations of losing game-sters come, mingled with the laughter of ladies who love every man and the jabber of the mixed population, Mexican, Yankee, Negro, and mestizo. Opposite the big doors of cheap glass, which make the front of the Bella Union, are thrown wide open. Into it, lured by the music of a Mexican-stringed orchestra that is playing at Julianne Polka and the strident voices of its hurdy-gurdy girls are thronging a motley concourse of civilian camp followers of Taylor's army, leavened by a contingent of Uncle Sam's boys, who have as yet dodged the provost-martial. It is but a short thirty yards across the street, the oil lamps of the dance-house are burning very brightly, and the sights within it have a kind of weird-on-canny fascination for this import from civilization. Looking through the wide-open doors over the heads of drinkers and roisterers, Estrella sees Carmelita dancing with the languishing abandon of the Spanish, the soft cuchuca, as she snaps the castanets. For a moment the young American lady forgets all else, except the vivacious charm of the danseuse. For bizarre effect, though it is a Spanish dance, Carmelita is roped, not after the matter of Castile, but after the style of Paris. Her brocade frocks, silken stockings, and red-satin botines seem to add to her diableray. To Miss Godfrey, the very beauty of the girl makes her reckless abandon sadly repulsive. She shudders and turns from the sight. Then screams and gaze is horrified. There are quick flashes of pistols in the dancing-hall, and over there reports the screams of women. People are flying from the open doors of the Bella Union, and a man falls wounded in the street below her. As this happens, she is suddenly dragged into the house by an athletic arm, the closing door muffling the sounds of a cavalry platoon dashing down the street, and Paloma's voice shouting hasty orders to his men as they enter the dancing saloon and round up Uncle Sam's deserters and put order in the place. Never look at a fight that you haven't any business with, Miss Godfrey, suggests Hampton. The crash of a window, stricken by a bullet, emphasizes his remark. As he leads her back into her room, he says, while the scrimmage is going on in the street, I'll show you when you're made how to do up the bundles convenient for the pack-saddle. Well, thank you, replies this trella effusively. I'm afraid our effort has not been altogether successful. As Hampton aids the young lady in her arrangements, they are interrupted by him, Jones, who after wrapping on the door comes in and says, that Provost Marshall Lieutenant is out on the veranda. He asked me to tell you that he doesn't like to leave his men. Miss Godfrey, he'd be almighty obliged if you'd just step out and say goodbye to him before he rise off to the Rio Grande. Of course I will, cries this trella, and passes hastily from the room, leaving the ranger still engaged with her luggage. As she steps out on the veranda, the town has grown normal once more, judging by the twanging of the mandolins and guitars that greet her from the Bella Union dance house. Leaving his orderly waiting for him with his charger, the young officer runs up the steps very eagerly to the side of the young lady. I hope this wretched trouble in the dance house doesn't alarm you, Miss Godfrey, he says deprecatingly. It won't occur again, as we've gathered in about every man without leave in the town, adding severely, I rather imagine there'll be some bucking and gagging up at the guard house for this, but I'm awfully sorry for the row. And why? This is a very rash question from the young lady. Because it will shorten the time I had to say goodbye to you, answers the Lieutenant, his voice growing so tender that it startles his listener. I am compelled to report this affair at headquarters. Some drunken troopers have seriously entered two or three teamsters, so as I've only a minute with you, I'm going to make the best of it. They are standing well in the shadow of the building, the sign of the army of the Rio Grande Saloon, projecting partly over this balcony from the next building, shields them from the observation of the street. Miss Godfrey sees enough in the young fellow's eyes to warn her not to ask how. But not waiting for the question, Charlie proceeds to answer it with West Point Strategy. He whispers, It wouldn't be right to tell you how much I feel, now that I'm going certainly to battle, perhaps to death. Oh, don't say that, cries the girl, drawn by his artful touch into tender voice. Thank you for that tone, answers the young man in enthusiastic order. You're kinder to me now than you were at Saratoga. Then you pleaded the child.  He pulls from his breast the piece of the American flag. I've carried it here in Indian skirmishes, up on the Missouri, and it has been my fetish. I'll wear it on my heart down on the Rio Grande.  Few young girls are wholly adamant to such a speech, when uttered by a long moustachioed, shoulder strapped fellow of gallant bearing and flashing eyes, especially when he's going to battle and perchance to cruel death. Under the softness of the Texan night, the strains of the mandolins and guitars playing soft Spanish melody from the Bella Union, with only two friends in this place, so cut off from the world she has just left, Estrella feels the sadness of parting with even one of them and her beautiful eyes fill with tears. Gazing upon her delicate loveliness, the exquisite refinement of this fair exile from civilization made more striking by the strange setting of the shanty frontier town, the young officer grows more ardent. He whispers, his heart and his voice, say to me, come back. Receiving no answer, he pleads again. Say to me, come back from battle. Oh, don't talk of that. Of course, I hope you'll come back, falters the young lady.  For in imagination, she sees the stricken field and this handsome fellow lying dead upon it.   As she does so, her forehead is touched by two eager burning lips and brushed by a long mustache. Before she can either protest or dissent, a swinging clash of the door on the balcony indicates the advent of the Texan captain. Through the panes of glass in its upper paddle, he has seen what has indicated more than it should. He says quietly, Miss Godfrey, I have made up your luggage with your maid into bundles suitable for the pack saddle of the mule. I think there is nothing further for me to say to you except that tomorrow morning at five o'clock I shall be here ready to take you on your way to your father. Good evening. He raises his hat and passing quietly down the stairway stands meditatively in front of the hotel. The next moment he is joined by young Pelham, who has whispered to Estrella, remember my souvenir, and come into the street after the Texan. To the ranger the young officer says, Captain Hampton, you are as capable as any man on this frontier to make Miss Godfrey's journey across the panaries safe. You, fortunately, are not at present compelled by military duty as I am to turn your face to the Rio Grande. No, but I will be mighty soon, answers the Texan. Don't doubt our boys will be with you before the scrimmage takes place. Of that I am certain, answers the Dragoon. For we won't get to work immediately. Uncle Sam's boys are to wait until they've been assaulted. Those are the orders I know from Washington. In fact, every officer of the army has been cautioned not to strike first. Therefore, someone has to take the blow. Some poor devil, not daring to order his troopers to draw sabers or open fire, will have his command destroyed and perhaps suffer court-martial in order to enable our government at Washington to say, we did not inaugurate hostilities. The Mexicans began the war. Well, we Texans have no orders from Washington. Besides, I don't think you could prevent our boys from shooting greasers at sight. We've got so in the habit of it, rejoins Hampton, grimly, as the Dragoon swings himself into his saddle. But here the light dies away in the Texan's eyes, turning in his stirrups. Pelham seizes the ranger's hand, rings it, and whispers, Hampton, you're going to take the treasure of my life and your keeping for delivery to her father. God forever bless you for your kindness to her. As the captain starts back, as if the lieutenant had struck him, Charlie Pelham claps his spurs into his steed and dashes up the street, leaving a very heavy heart behind him. For Sharp is extremely simple in matters of love, and doesn't reckon upon a young man's enthusiastic speech, and doesn't reason, that though Estrella may be very precious to Pelham, Pelham may not be so extremely precious to her. Therefore the captain of rangers goes on his way very moodily this evening, and as he makes arrangements for the coming journey mutters mentally once or twice. I knew it. Anybody could have told that up at Taylor's camp. However, she needs me, and when she gets through needing me, I'll go out and thank God for a bloody war. Of this colloquy, Miss Godfrey leaning listlessly over the balcony has heard enough to make her furious with the fiery Pelham. As blushingly, she has fled towards her rooms, and sank in bashful and perturbed dismay upon a chair. She marvels at the consternation that is in her as she reflects, if Hampton saw that unexpected salute, what will he think?  Her confusion is such that she scarce notices Selma, in what a half-hearted way has been sowing upon the Indian tunics for their journey on the morrow. But her reverie is broken in upon by her maid, standing frighteningly before her, and pleading, for the love of mercy don't tell your father. Starled, Estrella looks up and asks, Tell my father what? That I was going to to run away from you with Mr. Yazoo Sam, falters the girl in the agitated voice. Ever since Mr. Him Jones told me I was not to leave this room, I knew you had discovered my foolishness.  Christ, Miss Godfrey, astonished at the anger that rises up in her against her bond made. But her indignation is checked by the appearance of the culprit. Worried not for her handsomely developed figure and the passion that now and again lights her eyes. Though her cheeks are very pale, the young woman and her short-skirted sobrette frock might be a child shrinking from uplifted rod as she pleads. In, in pity for me, don't tell your father. Of course I shall have no secrets from my father. Why should I not tell him answers her mistress impulsively?  Stammers the octarune in broken voice, with lips from which fear has driven even the rich blood of the Creole. Nonsense, he is goodness itself, cries Estrella indignantly.  To this she adds. Why, for heaven's sake, if you wish to leave me, did you not go, Zalma, when I gave you your opportunity in New York? Then I could have engaged some woman who would not have wanted to desert me here in this wilderness. I did not want to leave you then, madam, says the octarune droopingly and tearfully. Believe me, it was only after I saw Mr. Sam. I had never been made love to before by a handsome white gentleman, and he had very tender ways. Though as she mentions the gambler, the red blood of passion is surging in her cheeks, crushed by her helpless situation, she pleads brokenly. Don't, don't tell your father. Before Ms. Godfrey can answer, Mr. Jones comes upstairs, and with frontier hospitality offers supper. Thank you, nothing to eat this evening, Estrella says rather sadly, but tomorrow morning please, at half past four. You'll have a real cute southwestern breakfast if old Sally My Cook sits up all night to get it, remarks the border landlord. Then, noting the drooping appearance of Ms. Godfrey's culprit maid, he beckons the mistress out in the hall and whispers impressively, he've discovered her d-dose, but just a light brish in with a hickory, and for God's sake, don't say nothing about your winches wanting to run away to your dad. Jim Godfrey's the toughest man with niggers west of the Sabine, and so goes solemnly away, leaving Estrella shocked and stunned. I can't believe what you say about my father. You don't know him as well as I. She cries after Jones, in wounded indignation, but after a moment coming into the room, the young lady who has gradually discovered that companionship between her and Zelma is a practical impossibility where slavery exists, says, I appreciate your devotion that brought you with me to this place. I shall always protect you, Zelma. Though I cannot believe my father is the severe man people here seem to think him. I shall say nothing to him. The episode is forgotten. Thank you, thank you, murmurs her made gratefully, and kisses her hand. Anyway, continues Miss Godfrey, if Papa is such an ogre, I should be as frightened of him as you. As his daughter I owe him obedience, and I am going to give him it from my very soul, my dear father. Cheers of anticipation, hope, and love, well up in her beautiful eyes. Now, she adds an attempted lightness, let us get our garments ready for tomorrow. Perhaps we'll have an interesting day upon the prairies. Even at this moment, looking out through a broken window from the upper story of one of the saloons opposite, the dancing girl is dejectedly disarraying herself of some cheap, though gaudy finery used during her performance in the evening and muttering mentally. He never came to see me dance, others applauded, but his hands were not there. Beside her sits her patron, languidly smoking a cigarette. He is a fierce, but cunning-eyed Mexican dressed as an extreme dandy of the northern provinces.  His slim waist is belted by a broad red sash in which is stuck a nasty-looking stiletto and a pair of horse pistols. His legs are cased in silver-mounted calzaneros of corduroy velveteen that are tight as his yellow skin as far as the knee. But from there are open coming down bell fashion over his feet and permitting white drawers to show along the open seams. To his high, untanned leather boots are strapped, heavy, long-routed spurs.  This caballero is handling his cigarette with one brown hand and is counting with the avaricious and nervous fingers of the other the money from the dancing girl's tambourine. This being finished as he pockets the silver coins he looks toward the Goliath house and remarks half to himself, over there is Don Jaime Godfrey's daughter, the greatest rica in all of Texas. Tomorrow morning she goes across the prairie doubtless with little escort. Bueno, you have some fine idea judging by your face, whispers the dancing girl about her? An idea that will make us rich. The Yankee army marches south. She goes towards the north. Canale's troop of voluntarios rancheros is in half a night's ride towards the west. What kind of a ransom would not Don Jaime pay for his daughter? Ah, you mean to seize? Donna, high horse, whispers the girl, clapping her hands excitedly. Bravo! She who offered me money in his presence, she whom he looked at and scarce had eyes for me. Diablo, snarls the man.  A smile ripples her vivacious features and she cries, Madre mia. How I laugh when I think how he pulled the querta from your hand and thrust you with it in the plaza at Metamorris, the night you were going to beat me. That's two years since. You beat me no more. My little stiletto the last time was so nearly fatal, eh, mi amigo? Then the mocking jeer in her voice changes to an eager intensity. But you want me to do something that will injure her? I am at your service. I wish you to find out who rides with Senorita Godfrey tomorrow morning. Santos? I'll do it. Answers Camerlita. But have a care. You do your part. Play double with me and I shall whisper you are an espia for Cara Bijol and canales upon the Yankee soldiers. Then how long do you think you'll live, my poor Florito? Chiello, your face is as white as your liver now. As the man shudders from her, she says gaily, I'll go over and sing a serenade to Senorita Yankee and find out who takes care of her on the prairie.  As the portal is opened, she cries to Estrella, buy your eyes. I knew you liked music as I sang today. Have another song from Carmelita before you sleep. Ah, you have a guitar too. You sing like me. Your eyes seem to pity me today. She is about to spring into the room, but the young lady from the north looks coldly upon this pretty but outer creature in the gaudy finery of a frontier sobret. Actuated partly by Anglo-Saxon Indifference and partly by what she has heard of this girl's passion for Captain Hampton, she is about to say, excuse me this evening I'm tired. When Carmelita catching the denial of her eye, cries suddenly, no music. I'd like to hear the story of a wave of the border who never knew a mother's kiss, who never knew a father's arms. Come in, says Miss Godfrey impulsively. Come in. Then she whispers sadly, I had a sister. Who were she alive? Might say the same as you. Come in, pretty one. Ah, you're opening your arms for me. You don't think I'm a little snake? That's right, trust Carmelita. And dancing into the room, the delicate and agile creature almost nestles in Miss Godfrey's lap, and artfully tells her a very sad story of how she had no recollection of parents, but had been taken by the good sisters of Chihuahua who wanted to make her a nun. But that feeling too gay for a convent she had run away, and none to the patronage of Floreto, had become the most celebrated dancing girl of the north of Mexico. Dios, you should see me at fairs in the plazas of Monterey and Matamoros. Hmm, the men loved me, she says artfully. The women? She shrugs her shoulders not so much. But you, and she gets prattling with Miss Godfrey till she learns the details of Estrella's journey and now doesn't dare to refuse that young lady's gold. When coming from this interview as soon as Carmelita is out of observation of the Goliad House, she dashes Uncle Sam's good double eagle into the mud, stamps upon it viciously with both little feet, and says, not from her, not from her, then pauses in half reels and sighs brokenly. My God, he, he protects her across the prairies. So coming in before her patron, with eagerly awaiting her report, she remarks, there is no good in trying to attack this American young lady, my poor Florito. She has a whole company of dragoons to accompany her to San Antonio de Vexar. For a moment, the Mexican looks disappointed and dismayed.  She has nothing of the kind. All of the Yankee soldiers march south tomorrow. Tell me the truth. Diablo, I have, straight as if I'd sworn it on the version. She answers resolutely.  He raises threatening hand. Cramba, whispers the girl.  Under those circumstances I expect you have mutters, Florito, but if not, he goes away, a very nasty, threatening, in his sneaky eyes. Looking after him, the dancing girl cries to herself, Santos, how I hate her, but I love him. I have lied to protect him from those murderous lancers of canales, to save him I spare her. But Santa Maria, she shall not have mi caballero. I have loved him ever since. He saved me from Florito's cruel hand and loved no one else. And yet, Dios de mi alma, under her very eyes, he tossed his doubloon to me as if I were a beggar. And this girl, who had been roguishness and abandon, and gazed at itself before the guffawing crowd of the frontier street, froze herself down upon a dirty couch of sheepskin, and sobs and sighs as if her sprightly soul would leave her beautiful body. End of Chapter Eight Recording by John Brandon Book III Chapter Nine Of The Spy Company A Story of a Mexican War by Archibald Clavaring Gunter This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon Book III Frontier Chivalry Chapter Nine The Passions of the Prairie The five syndromes are sounding the revelry, and the bugles boots and saddles from Taylor's camp, as Hampton pauses with his outfit in the rear of the Goliad house, thinking it wisest that his exodus with his fair charge should be unnoticed. His cabalada consists of a mule and four mustangs, including the black mare selected for Miss Godfrey. These are all comparison in Mexican style. Though the trappings on astrella steed are somewhat lighter material, and more ornamental workmanship than the others, to each saddle is attached that useful article for prairie travel, the lasso. The pac mule, which is the regulation Mexican article as regards temper, stubbornness, and intelligence, bears also the regulation Mexican pack saddle, and is halted so as to be led by Mr. Love. Both frontiersmen are in full array of the backwoods, sombreros, and buckskin suits, each of their belts holding a brace of heavy revolvers, and a long buckhorn handled bowie knife. Hampton, in addition, has two big dragoon sick shooters in his holster, but to leave his arm free for the assistance and guidance of Miss Godfrey has his rifle slung cavalry fashion over his back. Wild Harry carries his long Kentucky weapon, Western style, across the pommel of his saddle. As Miss Godfrey has promised, she doesn't keep them waiting. Him Jones immediately makes his appearance from the back door of the goliath house, carrying the young lady's bundles, which he proceeds to adjust onto the pack saddle of the mule, the animal, as usual, flinging his heels about and cutting up in true borough fashion. As this is being done, two putative Indian girls make their appearance and come timidly out of the hotel. They are Miss Godfrey and her attendant, Zelma. G. Hosh, Nebuchadnezzar, remarks Mr. Love under his voice, and immediately slings Estrella's maid with free and easy hand upon her saddle, and arranges it for her. While Hampton, with somewhat more ceremony, assists Miss Godfrey to mount man fashion to the dainty black mare he has selected for her. On it, Estrella makes a very pretty Indian picture. The soft fawn skin of her tunic, which reaches somewhat below the knees, outlines her rounded graces of bust and shoulders. From beneath it skirts are poked out very differently, tight buckskin leggings, that as they taper into the little beaded Indian moccasins display beauties hitherto unknown to the ardent frontiersmen.  Oh, I feel light as a fawn, remarks the dainty equestrian. Then adds gratefully, thank you, the stirrup leathers are just right. And asks, what do you call my mare? As she caresses the graceful black head which is turned towards her. Mule foot, says the frontiersman. My, what a funny name, why do you call her that? Because her hooves are formed like a mules, which makes her more sure-footed for your journey, answers the ranger, patting the mare's graceful neck also. Like all true horsemen, he loves the faithful companions of his adventures and his forays. Histol's all right, he asks earnestly. Yes, uh, I think so. I loaded them as you instructed me very carefully. She remarks as Hampton draws the five shooters from the cases, in which they are lying on the ground and examines them carefully. But I didn't know exactly how to wear them. I'll show you. As he places the belt about her, he suddenly pauses and laughs. I reckon this is all of a foot too big for you. Making the necessary hole in the leather, he buckles it about the young lady's delicate waist, lushing like a boy as he does so. You've had plenty to eat, he asks. Oh, yes. Pork dodgers, chicken fixins, dough doings, and sausages, she replies. Mr. Jones took very good care of me. Then they ride away, for Harry Love has been equally expeditious. Estrella waving a hand laden with grateful thanks towards him, Jones, who, having no hat upon his head, pulls his forelock and says, bless your eyes, miss. Tell your dad, him Jones has not forgotten him. And getting into his house mutters, how could I forget Jim Godfrey when he did me in a hoist trade? Hampton, and his party don't take the main street of the town, would ride around its outskirts. The ranger not wishing grease her eyes to see he has the embarrassment of women in his convoy. Out of the town they take the well-beaten trail that leads them along the higherlands, a little above the shores of the bay westward, towards the ferry on the Neuacis River. Reaching this in about three-quarters of an hour, they find the ferry has been used in bringing droves of cattle to Taylor's army still in operation. Here under some oaks and cotton woods, they line the river banks. They await the return of the boat, which is a big scowl, now on the other side of the river. Guided by means of a rope cable stretched across the stream, it is coming back to their side laden with cattle. As they stand watching at a Mexican, lulls on the bank, smoking a cigarette, and lazily gazes at it also. You're awaiting to take the ferry, senor? says Hampton, pleasantly to the man. No, senor, I am here to help drive that band of steers. When it is landed to the commissarius office of the Yankee army, the Mexican points to his horse that at some little distance is wandering about, altered by his lariat, cropping the grass of the prairie. Though the grazing is not over good, the ground having been beaten and trampled by the hooves of the many cattle that have crossed in the last few months to feed Uncle Sam's soldiers. As Hampton is about to saunter indifferently towards this animal, the man springing up says eagerly with the politeness of his nation. Quiera fumar cobblero, proffering a handful of cigarettes. Conguesto, senor, replies the Texan, accepting the offer with equal politeness. Lighting up, he takes a few careless steps towards the horse, then turns away and apparently no more interested in the Mexican goes to chatting with Ms. Godfrey, asking her how she has passed the night in the Goliad house. Rather peculiarly, rejoins the young lady. I had a visit from the dancing girl, who came over and sang to me and told me of her curious history and unhappy life. At this Hampton looks astonished, then slightly concerned, and asks, rather sharply, What did you tell her? Oh, the details of our trip, how in the goodness of your heart you had offered notwithstanding the urgency of your ride to San Antonio to take me through the dangers of the prairie to my father's ranch. Then astralis face grows radiant, he asks eagerly, Don't you think my father may be now at his hacienda? When he found I would not join him there. Her eyes have tender tears in them, she murmurs, Oh, if I could see him at once upon a rival. To this the Texan answers nothing, but hurries their embarkation on the ferry boat, which has by this time reached their side of the river. Under his directions the crossing is rapidly achieved, Hampton urging the ferrymen to their work by what was seen to Ms. Godfrey an almost too liberal reward. It did not speed her towards her father's arms. During their water excursion, a shadow seems to cross once or twice Hampton's well-controlled features. He appears to be in deep thought. The moment they have landed on the north bank of the noesis, he takes love with him out of earshot of the young women and says, Did you see that Mexican on the other side of the river? A coarse cap. Took a pretty good look at him, too. Did you notice anything peculiar about him? Nothing particular, regulation greasy, regulation dirty, regulation soft voice, regulation snake. Yes, but his horse had a brand on it, only used south of the Rio Grande, replies Hampton. In fact, about the brand, that would be on one of Canales or Cara Bijol's horses. Cara Bijol himself was in Corpus Christi only a day or two ago. His band can't be any farther away, then it'll keep him safe from Taylor's outpost, probably about west of here. Then we better travel quick, mutters Harry. Now we've got women with us. Perfectly right. Hampton steps to Miss Godfrey and looking out over the prairie, which now towards the west and north is only bounded by the horizon. Though dotted with its comps of timber, he says we're about a hundred miles from your father's rancho, on a course a little west of north. I've marked it on this pocket compass. Keep that with you, in case by any accident you are separated from me or lost on the prairie. Follow the direction marked on this compass, and don't turn away from it. Remember that, your life may depend upon it. Then he calls Harry. Harry, have you given to Zelma that pocket compass, marked as I told you, and the proper directions? Yes, Cap. I told her that as we came along. How does she ride? Quite well, for a love was going to say yaller, girl, but the beauty of the octaroon makes him say for a woman. Well, her horse is all right. I had the negro boy last night accustomed it to skirts. Now follow along. And the captain rides quickly, by Miss Godfrey's side, out upon the prairie, heading slightly to the west of north. I want to get inland, he says, so that when we strike the next stream we'll be high enough up it to find a ford. I don't want to make you swim it on horsebag. So the Mustangs lope over the prairie, which begins to seem boundless to Miss Godfrey, as the Bay of Corpus Christi has entirely passed from her sight. And now on all sides, lying before her is a sea of green dotted here and there with moats or islands of trees of various kinds, pecans, plums, live oaks, and sycamores, just springing into their full foliage. The morning mist spreading over it makes the scene weirdly fantastic, as they pass great clumps of live oak covered with the long bearded moss peculiar to the southern states. In the mist of the morning, these masses of timber assume fantastic shapes and curious tints, sometimes looking like medieval castles at others, gleaming palaces of silver, then glowing red and gold beneath the southern sun that is rising over them and dispelling the fog. Soon the whole park-like landscape under its beams becomes warm and bright and radiantly soft. Suddenly, estrella utters an exclamation of delight. The sea of green is changing into an endless sea of flowers, yellow, violet, red, and blue. Myriads of lovely prairie roses, asters, dahlias, and tuberoses give out their perfumes to her open nostrils and their variegated colors to her admiring eyes. Foundless the flowery ocean spreads before her, broken here and there by the green islands of trees. From which issue the songs of myriads of birds, boreals and cardinals and chaparral cocks giving out their morning welcome to the sun. It is a bright March morning on the Texas prairies. The green tree motes are made beautiful by clinging grapevines everywhere, and some of them are thickets of fruit trees, plums and wild peaches covered with colored blossoms that foretell a harvest of luscious fruit. There is no sweeter morsel to the human tongue than the wild southwestern plum. Enchanted by the sight, the girl goes to prattling merrily as she rides beside the rather stern-faced Texan ranger, whose eyes, the sharp ones of the scout, seem to be restlessly inspecting and investigating every feature of the changing landscape. I had quite a curious episode in the Goliad house last night, Captain Hampton, she says. What was it? asked the ranger eagerly. Oh, him Jones's cat, she laughs. The canvas ceiling over my head had holes in it. It was wonderfully weird to see the pussy's paws come through these holes. When she would lose her footing, as she made an all-nice hunt for the rats and mice that scrambled about over my head, I would have been frightened if I hadn't become a frontier girl. Poor Zelma was terrified at the creature. Then Miss Godfrey whispers, From what Mr. Jones said to me, and from the direction you gave my maid yesterday, you must have known of her foolish escapade with Mr. Yazoo Sam. Please don't mention it to my father if you meet him. Hampton glances back at the octarone, whose handsome, though delicately voluptuous figure is well displayed by the buckskin tunic, and some stories that he has heard of Jim Godfrey coming into his mind he says pointedly, Most certainly. Thank you, Captain Hampton, returns Estrella, adding earnestly, I don't want you to have a bad opinion of Zelma, she doesn't deserve it. And as they write along, she tells him of her maid's devotion in following her from New York. As his companion talks, she gives many glimpses of her lovely soul, and the Texan captain grows even more tender to this beautiful creature, who is so dependent upon him for protection. Even as he listens to her, his every sense is on the alert to keep her very safe. But the scene made pleasant by the low songs of hummingbirds and the humming of innumerable bees, he lates the girl and makes her confident. She says, This is one of the flower prairies of which you told me on the steamboat, isn't it, Captain Hampton? And looking around cries, as if there could be danger here. Just then, there is a little scare a few paces to one side of her. For answer, the ranger silently points towards a cactus bush. She gives a little scream of horror and shudders, heavens and earth. Isn't that a rattlesnake? Yes, you see it isn't all quite as secure as it looks. There are other beasts that will do you to death in those cane breaks. He points to his right hand, where a line of timber indicates a water course. At night you'll hear the howling of the jaguars in that chaperral, and even now, listen, you notice the rooting and grunting? That comes from the little wild hog, the peccary, as plucky a brute as walks the earth. Kill one, and you've got to slay the whole drove, or they'll tear you in pieces, as sure as they've white tusks. Under the frontiersman's instructions, the girl becomes impressed also with the animal life about her. His quick hand indicating them, she notices the innumerable deer that they disturb grazing, some of their herd's numbering hundreds. They have written not more than three hours when Hampton says, I reckon we'd better stop and give you a rest. Why? I'm not tired, she answers, rather indignantly. I'm accustomed to horseback exercise. Yes, but your maid isn't, he replies. Besides, this is the proper time and place to rest our horses. We won't go on until the extreme heat of the day is passed. With this he calls to love. Harry, let's get something nice for the young lady to eat. Sarton shore, replies the ranger, and turns his horse off towards the line of timber that indicates a little watercourse. A few minutes after, by a little rivulet that runs slowly over the level prairie, Hampton stops his cabalcade, and assisting Ms. Godfrey and Zalma from their mustangs, he places some blankets in a little secluded nook under a cottonwood, and says, take a siesta while I fix things. Gazing out from her leafy bower, Estrella can see the easy grace with which he hitches the animals by their riadas in such manner that they can get plenty of good grazing.  Zalma has proffered her assistance, but Hampton says to her considerably, no, you're too tired, my poor girl. Do what you can for your mistress, and then lie down yourself. I can get a frontier meal a good deal easier than you can. He is busied about these things as Wild Harry comes sloping up on his Mustang, carrying in his hand a fine young wild turkey. Across his saddle hangs a two-pronged buck. Wrecking here are some nice things for your white teeth, he chuckles to Ms. Godfrey. This gobbler is his tenderest chicken. Then cries, let me do the chores, Cap, while you rummage up some sweet doings for the prairie princess. With this, Mr. Love goes to butchering and dressing the game. Half an hour afterwards, Ms. Godfrey aroused from her siesta to be astounded at a backwood's meal. Didn't know you could get such nice things on the prairie, did you? Try your teeth on this ear, Vincent Steak. No, filled up on turkey, remarks Wild Harry during the repast, keep a hole in you for the strawberries. Strawberries? Yes, and honey. Look here, and the frontiersman laughs as Hampton produces, from a lot of big leaves into which he has gathered them, a pile of freshly plucked, red, juicy prairie strawberries that have ripened under the southern sun.  Why, yes, remarks Wild Harry, bless your heart. Didn't you know every tenth tree about here is a bee tree? Didn't you hear hum enough in the air? Why, you'd go through the prairies and starve to death with plenty around you. During this, Hampton has said little, some problem of travel apparently being in his mind. But Miss Godfrey has several times turned grateful eyes upon the Texan captain, not only for the consideration with which he has anticipated her every want, but for the generous courtesy that Selma has received at his hands, her maid's comfort being looked after as carefully as if the octarone were a fine lady. Consideration of Selma puts an idea into her mistress's vivacious brain. She turns to Wild Harry and asks a slight hesitancy in her manner and almost a pleading in her voice. Mr. Love, you know my father very well. Is he a very stern and severe man? Why, bless ye.  She nods smilingly at Selma, whose eyes have grown very anxious at her mistress's question, and cries reassuringly. You see, as they finish the meal Hampton suggests, we'd better cook enough to last us for a day or two. By tonight we'll be getting in the range of the Comanches coming up from Foray across the Rio Grande, and it may not be prudent to light a fire. I saw what were smoke signals I think to the north of us. So did I, Cap, returns Wild Harry, but didn't cackle about it, reckoning they were mirages. Of course they were very faint and I may have been mistaken. They must have been nearly thirty miles away, replies Hampton. But it's best to be safe. His glance has concerned in it as he turns to Miss Godfrey and says, I don't want to alarm you but you should know what may be before you.  But he astonishes her by saying, it would be more than pleasant to do you the service, Miss Godfrey, but I want you to learn to take care of yourself here. So you won't assist me into the saddle, she asks, a slight moe giving pecancy to her face. On the prairie a woman who can't mount a horse by herself is at times mighty helpless. Just try to get on your mare man fashion, so as to be independent of me. He holds mule foot very carefully and instructs her how to put her foot in the stirrup and swing her self into the saddle. After a little, he suggests, do it without my holding your mare. Do it all by yourself, as if you were out alone in the wilderness. In a few essays, Miss Godfrey succeeding in this, he says with a slight sigh, now you're more backwards. But this lesson in equestrianism has been a very pleasant one to the writing master. Several times his hand has touched that of his fair pupil. Yes, I feel as if civilization were a hundred thousand miles away from me, cries the girl, wild turkeys and deer. Someday you must teach me to shoot with a rifle so I can do my own hunting. The someday seems very pleasant to Hampton. It suggests that the beautiful creature by his side thinks he will not pass out of her life entirely with this prairie ride. Then the words of Pelham, the dragoon, come back to him and make the future look very blank. He calls shortly, Love, have you put Selma into the saddle? Next suddenly exclaims, Where's wild Harry? Mr. Love rode back on the trail, answers the octaroon. And I did not hear his horses hooves, mutters the Texan ranger in a dazed way. What's come into my ears? Miss Godfrey, who was already mounted, is blushing slightly. The next moment Hampton is once more alert. If Love rode back on the trail, he's seen something. He says as he hastily swings Selma into her saddle and goes to packing the mule with a cool but wonderful dexterity. This he has not finished before Love makes his appearance. Writing in from behind a timber moat he cries, Cap, there's somebody coming after us along the trail. Who can't tell? How many? Only one. Are you sure there's only one? Certain as I'm Chon Tobaki. It's too far off for me to make him out, but I can see him every time he gets out into the airline as he passes the timber. Very well, we'll wait for him, says Hampton, laying his hand upon Miss Godfrey's bridle, where she has rather timidly and excitedly started to ride off. Don't you think Harry and I are good for one? He laughs. Yes, for twenty of them, she answers confidently. Just ride back, Harry, a little bit and see who it is, and also that there is no one following him. Be mighty careful of that, directs Hampton, and finishes leisurely the packing of the mule. Five minutes after, wild Harry rides in again. He says, Golly, here's news for you. There are more following him? As Hampton quickly and springs into his saddle. No, but perhaps there ought to be, chuckles love, sure as snakes ain't gators, it's a woman that's trailing us. You're crazy. No, I ain't. I'm only cute. I can see the floppin' of her skirts. A minute or two afterwards, Hampton returning from personal observation says blazes, you're right. Then mutters in perturbed tones. It's Carmelita. The dancing girl, ejaculates Miss Godfrey, a curious look coming over her face. And jumpin' Jericho. How she is comin', can't keep away from me, cap, can she? cries love jovially. Didn't I tell ye, Miss Godfrey, he were always ace high with women kind? And this astrella can see the taxon ranger bite his lip beneath his mustache and give Mr. Love a decidedly unpleasant glance for his panjuric, as he directs sharply. Take post upon her back trail and see no cursed greasers are sneaking after her. She's hand in glove with half the bandits on the border. As wild Harry turns his Mustang away, Carmelita dashes past him, bringing with her into this quiet green prairie glade, passion, undisciplined, unbridled.  Thank God, I've overtaken you. Here, Miss Godfrey, is almost shocked at the sternness with which Hampton greets the dancing girl. Well, what are you following us for? asked the ranger captain, coldly and shortly. Oh, deos meal, you speak in that tone to me when I've ridden risking my life to save yours, wails the girl still struggling for breath. Santos, your cruel, her dark brown eyes blaze in a kind of agony.  This, answers Carmelita, a low despairing misery in her liquid voice, and her speech broken in its English accent by the terrible exertion of her ride, and perchance the excitement that is in her. This, last night, an espia of carabagiole, he came to me, he said, catch her, the American heiress, go over to the Goliad house and see who rides with her on the prairie tomorrow, and if she is easy prey, then I go over, I ask, I inquire. And you have told?  No. I go back, I say it is no good. The Yankee Dona has two companies of dragoons to ride with her to San Antonio, Taylor's boys, that you fear. To myself, I say, Hampton goes with her. Now I have saved him, there will be no pursuit. But this morning, I find the espia, he is so cunning. He has discovered that only two men go with the Americana. He doesn't know what two men, or perhaps he be frightened. But the man from the ferry that he keep there to find out, come riding back and tell him only two caballeros ride with the American girl. The damned cigarette smoker mutters love, who is not out of earshot. Wow. When I draw a bead on him, he'll watch the ferry over the Jordan, he will. Then when the spy here breaks out Carmelita, he ride to the west. You know what that means? Carabagiole is there, will canales with their cruel ranchero lancers. How many, ask Hampton? Oh, a hundred perhaps, perhaps more. Too many for two men, no matter how brave. So as soon as the spy is out of sight, I ride, ride to save you. To tell you that's all, and you've treated me cruelly, now I go back.  Not over that prairie alone, unattended. Believe me, I thank you. Bah, thank her, Christ Carmelita. Waving her hand savagely at Miss Godfrey, who is gazing with distressed eyes upon the scene. Then she continues desperately. It is but a three hours ride. I must get back and be dancing my bolero in the Bella Union. Should the spy a guest that I have warned you, it would be my death. Not only his machete, but the knife of every bandit in northern Mexico would be sharpened for my heart. Yes, I think you're about right, remarks Hampton, after a moment's consideration. If you're sure you can return. I must. I dare not stay. Even you, my brave Texan captain, couldn't protect me from Canales and Carabagio. Because you couldn't be everywhere. I must go. Adios. Next time a woman risks her life for you, don't look at her coldly and say, why do you follow me? Even if my coming, make the girl whom you cannot look in the face jealous of me, this northern lily I had meant to betray. But when it gave my handsome Texan ranger to death, Ben Caramba, I had a conscience. For one moment, she makes a picture of passion tremendous, despairing, helpless, but very lovely in the gaudy trappings of a Mexican horsewoman, as she sits like a portion of her steed, her eyes glowing yet sorrowful as they rest on Hampton and sighs, Dios de mio alma, corrido, corrido mio. The next she cries savagely, vamos, claps her spurs into her horse and dashes back along the trail towards the south. End of Chapter 9 Recording by John Brandon Book 3 Chapter 10 of the Spy Company A Story of the Mexican War by Archibald Clavering Gunter This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon Book 3 Chapter 10 The Smuggler's Trail Having placed a burning brand between these two, Carmelita has flown away. Leaving behind her the silence of the wilderness, her sad despairing voice has even awed Mr. Love. The only noise that strikes Ms. Godfrey's ears is the calling of a crow that seems enraged at human presence. As for the young lady's eyes, they are turned towards the ground. Confusion and modesty almost make her sway in the saddle. Fortunately now, hurried action compels Hampton to ignore all else, but his young charge is safety. Life and death have precedence of even passion. For a moment, the Texan gazes shame-facedly after Carmelita and mutters to Harry. Yes, it's best. The greasers must not guess she has brought word to us. No danger will come to her. Cannelly's ranch arrows, riding up from the southwest, cannot possibly intercept her. They'll not reach our trail for twenty miles ahead of where we are. He thinks for a moment, then cries, Love, shin up one of those oak trees and see if you can still make out the Indian smoke signals to the north. Harry throwing himself off his horse goes up a live oak as quickly as the squirrel, and a minute after reports, Yes, I can see him, though of course they're awful faint. And a moment after calls, they are smoke signals sure as bacon is fat. Coming down the tree, he holds a hurried consultation a little apart with the captain. At Hampton's words, Miss Godfrey can hear Love chuckle. Why won't it be slick? Sicken and pant there on a grizzly. Quick, Harry, says the captain, right over to the west and see if you can find the trail of the Indians. If they're coming up from the Rio Grande, you should cross their track about six miles from here at the lowest ford on the Nueces. Find out their numbers and all about them. Meet me on the old tobacco smugglers trail. As the ranger takes his pace rapidly towards the west, Hampton, now leading the pack mule, rides along followed by Miss Godfrey and her maid. The gait of their horses is sufficiently easy to permit Estrella some conversation with him. Though she cannot force her eyes to meet the Texan captains, she falters, you're, you're riding towards the Indians? You dread the Mexican Lancers more than you do them? Well, it's about a toss up remark sharp. Though the Comanches will trail us with more certainty than the Mexicans. Then why go towards them? He between them, run away from both. Oh, I want Canali's band to follow us. What? Miss Godfrey, I propose to make Indian neutralized greaser. In a few hours you'll see Mr. Love and me do it. Now don't let the matter worry you. Only be sure that no harm will ever come to you until sharp Hampton goes under. The ranger's face has a curious set expression on it, but trying to turn her mind from the dangerous of her situation he gets the chatting to Estrella about the country through which they're passing. Telling her of the old tobacco smugglers trail he proposes to take, how it was made before the days of Texan independence by wild contrabandists coming from Matagorta down through Goliad, of bloody memory to the Mexican towns on the Rio Grande, tobacco bearing a very high import duty from the Mexican government. To her he relates some curious anecdotes of how the smugglers used to hire the Alcaldes of the Pueblos to let them sell their contraband cigars that sometimes after the trade had been finished, the Alcalde overcome by fear or conscience denounced them to officers in command of the Mexican troops who took away all the contrabandist skeins. In that case the smugglers generally knifed the Alcalde. He laughs. Now the trail is only used by cowboys. In fact Taylor's army has been supported for the most of the last five months by Mexican beef. A thing that doesn't make the greasiers feel very pleasantly towards us. As they lop along he goes to pointing out honey trees to his exquisite companion. Telling her how the bee hunters discovered them by catching a few of the insects and watching their flights, which are always in straight lines, that where two lines of flight intersect there must be the bee tree. That's the way Harry found that honeycomb I reckon that you enjoyed at lunch he continues. And look here. If you're lost there's no danger of your starving in this part of the world. Two months from now there'll be lots of the finest plums and peaches. At present here are all the strawberries you want. Only look out for a sunny mound and put aside the long grass and you'll get enough to support you for a day or two. Then he gets the telling the young lady anecdotes of frontier life describing to her the celebrated old Aunt Beck who used to keep a tavern on the smugglers trail up towards Refugio where the fight was made in the Mission Church by the Texan boys. The little brothers the men call them. That some of these lads hardly strong enough to carry a rifle held the mission yard against the assaults of Mexican regulars under Uriah until compelled to draw off by Ward's orders. They had to leave three of the children who were wounded and then the greasers entered the churchyard and cut the little fellow's throats. By this time the young lady has grown so interested in and so impressed by his conversation that she has forgotten Carmelitas' insinuation. And her eyes again meet the Texans though once or twice they droop under his earnest gaze. In fact the very incidents of trouble compel intimacy with her cavalier. Twice he stops and gets water for his charge likewise taking the same good care of Zelma. Once noting the china doll delicacy of the attendant he asks very seriously if she can support the ride. Yes anything to save me from the Indians shudders the octaroon but on a custom to the saddle Zelma has grown very weary. As for Miss Godfrey the horseback exercise she's almost daily taken in New York now does her very good service and she rides on quite buoyantly and easily though there is an eager anxiety in her as she notes the Texans eyes every moment searching the horizon. On one or two occasions he halts the young women and walks slightly in advance to some ridge in the prairie where he can take observation where he keeps their horses in the low swales protected from view as much as possible by the moats of timber though the Mustangs hooves in the soft soil make deep imprints. Can the Lancers not follow our track very easily? Whispers Estrella nervously to him as they ride. Yes I want them to. Oh goodness she can't repress a slight shudder of her graceful shoulders. Canales coming after us will strike our trail about here I think two hours from now. Hampton observes but most of the time his gaze is directed ahead of them. Once assisting Miss Godfrey from the saddle he leads her on foot into a cops of plum trees rather higher than the rest. Here her mentor pointing cautiously to the north she can just describe two faint columns of vapor a few miles apart from each other that are at times curiously intermittent. The signals of the Comanches he says remember that whenever you see smoke coming up irregularly as if at times it were restrained it probably means Indian signals. The accursed savages craftily hold their blankets over the fire and let the smoke out in puffs of varying sizes telegraphing their movements to each other. All the time their speed is kept at about a certain rate as if the Ranger meant to make a certain point at an exact time. About half an hour after this he turns his horse sharply to the north and says to Miss Godfrey the smuggler's trail. The smuggler's trail? I don't see anything of it. No but it's easy enough to affront Tearsman's eyes. Look the old hoof marks off there in the dry adobe notice how the ground is worn down a little lower than the rest of the prairie though the grass is growing on it but see here comes love. Hampton points two miles off towards the southwest. My how he's riding! cries the neophyte in woodcraft carefully too. He's turned off out of his course because it would lead him into the open prairie and is coming round that island of pecans. Still how did you first get your eye on him at so great a distance? Why didn't you see that herd of deer run out of that cops ahead of harry? Remarks the Texan. Wild animals by their movements often tell you what's going on. In this well-stocked country always distrust a trail upon which you see no game. It's almost a sure sign Indians are near it. Ten minutes after love overtakes them. I found the Comanche trail going to the north he says, tersely. They spread at the crossing of the Nueces into two bands one about 40 tether nigh unto 30 warriors. That's our smoke signals up north. What time did they pass the river? Just after sun up. The dew was on the grass when their ponies went over it and no dew has fallen on its scent. They've been down on the real grand. Got some captives with them and plunder. Led horses were plentiful. Driving any cattle? Ask Hampton sharply. Nereal hoof. Thank God answers the Texan. Then they won't hesitate to come on the back trail. Did you see any greasers sign? While I kind of think I did cap, just after I left the Nueces I got a good view of open prairie to the south. On its horizon I caught the flicker of a landshead, or some bright arms.  Then we're about midway between the greasers and the Comanches. Replies Hampton. We'll travel on kind or slow. He looks up to the sun. About three hours more of it. We'll give the greasers just 25 miles to follow us. That'll make it about a little after dark when they overtake us and then. Wah! Gafas Harry. If we can do it. We've got to do it, mutters Hampton, looking at his delicate charge. She could never stand a ride of perhaps a hundred miles to distance the Comanches. Those greaser lancers are a God's gift to us. Soon Ms. Godfrey, watching their movements, sees the time enters into all the calculations of these men. Several times, as they journey on, Hampton glances at the sun. About an hour before sunset, he says. Harry, now is our time. Ms. Godfrey, you've got to travel fast. Go lopin' through the soft places. Make a good broad trail. Urged by him, the party proceed quite speedily for five miles. All the time, the Indian smokes are growing nearer. Getting beside Hampton, Estrella whispers with pallid lips, we are riding right into the Comanches. Don't you see their smoke only five miles away? Yes, they have been hunting or camped, taking a rest from their long foray. Their ponies will be quite fresh this evening. So much the worse for our greaser friends, says Sharp Dryley. So much the worse for us. You're not going nearer them, bleeds the girl in frightened tone. Was just a little, but soon the ranger doesn't seem to care to take any greater chances. There may be some outlying braves hunting deer he mutters. Best no farther, Harry. Now turn around and race to that big live oak about three miles back. The one I pointed out to you about thirty yards from the cane-break-chaparral, he whispers to Ms. Godfrey. But the Indians, they will discover our trail, they will follow us. I want them to follow us. What? Don't get excited, watch. For the first time this grim day, the captain chuckles slightly. They have raced back to the live oak tree. Now, Harry, hide our tracks, he commands. With this the rangers spring off their horses and throw all their blankets and horse clothes on the ground, not even exempting Ms. Godfrey's. With these they carpet the seventy-five feet of ground, from the trail to the cane-break. They have selected the spot very carefully. It is one where there is but little or no grass to be pressed down. Over these blankets each horse is carefully led and secreted in the ranked cane-break of prickly pears, cacti, and mesquite bushes that borders a swamp, through which runs a little stream, probably a tributary to the Aransas. Now, Harry, the fire before it's too dark for both Indians and greasers to see the smoke, but plenty of wet wood on. Mr. Love gliding out over the blankets carefully takes off his moccasins and travels quickly to a place just off the smuggler's trail that might be selected by a careless camping-party. From there in a minute or two rises a high column of dense smoke, easily discernible in the red rays of the setting sun. Mercy, it will bring lancers and Indians upon us, whispers Ms. Godfrey. Yes, says Hampton, with a grim smile, both will come racing to it. And then, wow, chuckles Wild Harry, who has returned to them obliterating with great circumspection every indication of their movements, even blowing up with the breath of his lips the blades of grass as each blanket is removed and concealed in the cane-break. Now, quick take me away from here, begs Estrella, and run into that party of Indians coming from across the prairie, Hampton points to the further smoke signal. No, we must stay here till Comanche and greaser get to work on each other, then light out. You think they will do it? Just as sure as the Mexicans are looking for your pretty face and the Comanches are hunting for scalps, grins Wild Harry. So in the seclusion of the cane-break comes to Ms. Godfrey the agony of suspense, shuddering at each noise of the Wildwood. This delicate girl, who but a month before had been the belle of Washington Square and University Place stances in far away New York, cowers in the tangled chaparral, awaiting the coming of barbarous enemies on one side and bloodthirsty savages on the other. As she crouches there the shadows of the very last sun ray falling through the matted leaves and briars of the jungle. The thing would seem a horrible fantasy to her, did she not hear the sharp clicks of gunlocks, as the men who guard her prepare their weapons for immediate use. Suddenly Hampton whispers, hoofs at a distance muffle our horses, a single nay will betray us. So the two men blanket the heads of the animals who have grown strangely restive, holding the horse's nostrils tightly while they do it. She listens again, and Wild Harry mutters below his breath, hoofs tether away, hear him coming? Yes, from the north on shod whispers Hampton. Then he half laughs, both gangs of devils racing for a fire whose smoke shows it has been made by people innocent of the backwoods and easy pray. By this time the gloom is such, Australia cannot distinguish details at a distance. But the frontier senses of the men beside her do. My Goliath, the engines will be here first, mutters Wild Harry. Yes, but with Comanche caution they've halted, replies the captain. Ah, they've sent a scout ahead. And Estrella sees in the sunset glow the gleaming figure of a naked savage in full war paint, with Lance at a carry and short bow ready for use, as he lopes down the trail, looking cautiously to right and left of him. Even in the half light something just at the point they have left the trail seems unnatural to the observing eye of the savage. He checks his horse suddenly, and he and his steed become a statue in the red afterglow of the prairie sunset. Shall I take him? whispers Wild Harry, his long Kentucky rifle sighted for the Indian's heart. For answer Hampton puts restraining hand upon him, then mutters. Thank God, for the clanking of metal horse trappings, the rattle of Mexican cavalry accoutrements, and the quick hoof sounds of the ranchero squadron now catch the Indian's attention. Not over a second he listens. Then they can see him glide silently back, like a specter horseman in the glooming. By gum, the greasers come just in time to save our bacon. Chuckles' love. Straining her ears, Estrella catches Spanish voices in excitable execration as the rancheros arriving at the campfire discovered that their prey has fled from them. Though it is dark now, the trail is an easy one, and they come dashing on, chattering recklessly in their Latin way. Yet some muttered carumbas indicate their cruel intent. By the eternal, says Hampton, the Comanches have ambushed them. They'll get it good. Now the girl shudders and half screams as she sees through the gloom of the evening the shining forms of the savages on horseback, closing in like specters around the rancheros. Then she claps her hands to her ears for greeting them, is that horrid yell which has proclaimed death, outrage, and torture to many a Texas maid in her log cabin home. The wild Comanche war cry.  Over this ring out the loud reports of escapitas and pistols. The clash of steel on lance, mingled with Spanish carajos, the twang of Indian bows, the hissing of Indian arrows, and the dull thud of horses hooves as they charge upon the prairie. Then all dies away in a horrid jumble going rapidly towards the south, leaving behind only the moans of the dying, and the shrieks of scalped and mangled wretches. Blow'd if the yellow bellies ain't flying from the red bellies. Hope they've scalped carabajol, gavawds Harry. Quick, let us go, Comanze Hampton. At his words, Miss Gottfried finds herself lifted into her saddle, and her horse rushed through the cane brake into the creek, Harry following after doing the same with Selma. To her escort, Estrella shudders. You're going south. You're following the Indians? Yes. The Comanches may come back. The Comanches will come back. Trust the Indians when they get through slaughtering carabajol's men to return to find out who lighted that prairie fire. They're sure to discover our trail, so I don't want them to know which way we have traveled. If they guess we are going north, those crafty demons will intercept us at the fords of Blanco Creek. So they dash into the brook, heading to the south and travel down it for some hundred yards. Then their horses are turned in midstream and hurried back, keeping well in the current. They have passed the place they entered the stream. Now they dash through the waters of the swampy creek for two miles. Miscot-free shuddering as alligators flop off their logs, and moccasin snakes hiss from the cypress trees, until Hampton finding a proper place takes them carefully out through the cane brake into the open prairie. Now, ride fast, commands the Ranger Captain. Those red devils are sure to find our trail before morning. Ride. We must reach the crossing of Blanco Creek before those painted centaurs get there. And they do ride. Miscot-free, almost reeling in her saddle from fatigue, finds that the horseback exercise she had taken each day in New York helps her. But soon a faint cry from behind indicates her maid can ride no more. Rankin, we gotta tie our wench to her Mustang, remarks love, looking at the almost fainting octarone. She's gone too far for that.  Then he springs into his saddle with Zelma in his clutch. Who is so worn out she cannot speak, and so carrying one of the despised race right tenderly in his strong arms, he rides into her mistresses' heart. Though Estrella is nigh fainting herself, she gives her cavalier a look that could he see it in the gloom. Would make him think that midnight trail through swamps over prairies amid thorny chaparral was one of the aisles of paradise. But not guessing this and anxious for her safety, he whispers to his charge, you can keep up. You must keep up. We've got to forward the Blanco before I give you rest, brave girl. Don't fear, I'll keep up. Who could flinch with you to aid her? She half moans under the unceasing travail of her galloping steed. But despite her words, this beautiful and delicate neophyte of the border, is so exhausted she scarce has her senses as the hooves of their horses splash through a running stream. And Mr. Love says, beat the engines this time the crossing of the Blanco. What precautions her escorts take at the ford to hide their trail, Miss Godfrey is too exhausted to discover. She only knows that some half hour afterwards she sees as in a dream their mustangs drawn up in some leafy covert and Hampton passing Zelma from his saddle to Mr. Love, who carries the fainting girl away. Then the frontiersman springs off his horse and takes her in his arms as tenderly as he would a wood nymph and bears her as if she were a precious thing to a couch of bows and leaves upon which he has thrown her blankets. Here sinking down she gives a sigh of exhaustion, yet content as she watches this man of iron with pistols prepared and eyes alert, guarding her slumbers to make them safe from man and beast amid the dangers of the prairies. As she goes to sleep she whispers to herself that sweet Spanish word she heard Carmelita use. End of chapter 10, recording by John Brandon


In this course we're going to talk a lot about understanding. Understanding is one of the key terminologies that you're going to have to really understand to be successful at teaching a course on Oversea, or teaching in general. What I'm talking about here is the difference between understanding and knowledge. What do you think about when you think about understanding, and what do you think about when you think about knowledge? Are those the same things, or are they different? Well, we at Oversea kind of believe that they're different. We kind of look at knowledge and we see all these little islands of information, kind of like facts laying around. And knowledge is the ability to recall those facts. It's the ability to say, this fact is this, this fact is this, and maybe we're able to make some connections within that. But we're not necessarily making that the goal of our learning. Knowledge-based learning to us seems sort of more like memorization, and kind of be recognized as something that maybe was a part of your own education. Now understanding-based education is a little different. You still have those little islands of knowledge, all these little facts. But understanding-based education has more to do with the grouping of those facts. It has to do with the way that you're able to understand them and make kind of groups of knowledge and sort of understand how they are connected. I think that's probably the most important point, really. How are they connected?  You want to be able to say, this group is connected to this and this way, and you want to say, this is the cycle, this is the way that it's going, this is the direction that all this knowledge is going. And these are the core things that sort of connect all of these facts. They're all, and really in a perfect world, what you're doing with understanding is not necessarily building the connection between the individual facts of the course that you're building, but you're actually teaching people how to build these connections on their own. You're teaching your students how to look at a set of information and say, ah, I see the patterns, I see how it's all connected and I can do this myself. I can build this sort of, I can build this set of understandings myself. And that's the exciting thing about understanding-based education. And it's perfectly suited for a website like Alversity. It's actually really great because really, in a way, understanding-based learning is kind of like stories compared to lists. So there are all kinds of, I was going to take, for example, history. When you're learning about history, you can learn stories or you can learn lists of names and dates. And that's sort of the difference here. That's kind of what we're talking about in a way. It's not necessarily that because I think understanding is a little deeper than that. And knowledge is also a little bit more, it's a little more complicated than just lists obviously. But it's sort of like facts over on this side and systems over here. I would say systems and connections. It's a pretty important thing. Connections is very important. And so what could this maybe look like in maybe a history course? Like I was saying before, history is a perfect example of this. Recently I've been listening to a bunch of podcasts about the history of the Mongols. And one of the big things that kind of struck me is that traditionally I'd always just learned that as a set of dates. So maybe, for example, there was some kind of war. So maybe dates of a war would be a good example of knowledge. So remembering what year something happened, that's a great piece of knowledge to have. But a piece of knowledge is really kind of empty when you think about the fact that there's a story behind that. You think about why did a war happen when it did? Now that is an understanding. That is a question that's a little bit deeper. And even deeper question behind that is why do wars like this one happen in general? So how is war created in the first place? You really are trying to dive much deeper than just what happened but why it happened and all the systems and all the things that are connected to making it happen. And understanding even the very core mechanism that is behind the thing that you're talking about. So that's the kind of thing that you want to be having in mind while you're designing your course for all versatility. You want to be thinking about understandings. Knowledge is great, knowledge is awesome, but knowledge is also kind of for computers. We do live in the 21st century and like my friend Mackenzie in high school always said I can always Google that and it's true, you really can these days especially in the very sort of modern economy. It's not necessarily what all students are going to be having access to all the time. But knowledge is not necessarily as valuable as it once was and understanding is more valuable than ever. So keep that in mind while you're teaching. Now how do you make that a reality in your course? Let's talk about that. Translating understanding into your teaching is actually probably one of the coolest things that you can do and actually just learned this whole process myself about a year ago. I took this great trip to New York City and I was at the Columbia University and I met this great professor named Ellen Meyer and she pushed this book in my hand and she said you need to read this and it was called understanding by design and it's all about backward design. Now that is a funny word, backward. I actually have kind of a bad association with the word backward. It seems sort of like a mean word to be in some way. But in relation to teaching it's actually a really great thing. Backward design, what could that mean? Well I kind of tried to simplify the whole process a little bit because not everybody has time to go read the understanding by design book and do all kinds of thinking about this. Teaching is sort of in some ways practical and I would really recommend you go read books like this. I would really recommend you go read books about pedagogy. But since most of you really just want to start teaching I'm going to break it down into sort of a three step thing here. And this is what the authors of this sort of curriculum have already done. They call it something a little bit different but I would say step one is to sort of philosophize. And I hope I'm spelling this right. My spelling is horrible so you're going to have to deal with me on that. I would say your second stage you could kind of sum it up to saying the word think. That could kind of be one way of putting it. And then your third step is to plan. And from there you then go and teach. So I know it seems like a lot but there's actually a real system behind this and it's actually quite cool so I'll explain that to you. Philosophizing I would say is the process of going and finding the core understandings for the thing that you want to teach. Identifying them and sort of creating a plan. So putting them on a piece of paper I guess. That's probably the best way I should say it. So let's just put ID core understandings. And so core understandings aren't... What is a core understanding? How do I explain that to you? A core understanding is not maybe sort of a set of facts like we were talking about before but it's maybe a core thing that you want to teach. It's often sort of edges into like a moral or edges into a sort of broader picture understanding of a certain topic. So in math it's maybe not I want to teach them pre-algebra but I want to teach them the relationship between these sets of equations. That would be more of a core understanding rather than teaching them a certain skill, for example. You might want to try to... You're trying to emphasize sort of the philosophical side of your practice and at the same time getting at those skills. You don't want to just... It doesn't have to be all high-minded. You really do want to get these skills across. And that is another part of the philosophizing part. You want to sort of determine your goals. So you want to decide what are the learning goals? Maybe I want my students to know after they've done all this work for this course what should they know that they don't know now or what should they be able to do that they can't do now. But it's especially about that knowledge. It's especially about building those understandings. That's a very core part of it. Alright, so you've got that. Now you have to think about how do I transfer that? So you need to think about transfer and you kind of need to think about... I'm going to call it testing. Most people probably wouldn't like that word because it is a little bit... It's a little bit official. And it's also a little bit... It's a word that kind of has a little bit of an aftertaste, you know? Because everybody thinks of the word test and they're like... Well, teachers would probably call it assessing. So they're trying to figure out ways... You're trying to figure out a way that you can say, okay, this is what I wanted to teach them and this is what they've learned. And what sort of that space in between that I didn't get and how do I get that part taught? How do I bring my students to a place where they maybe even learn that themselves, for example? So you need to think about the transfer and about how you're going to assess. So you can write assess here, actually. We'll write assessment. And obviously it gives you all kinds of tools for assessment. It's not perfect yet because online stuff is not perfect yet but we're working on some things that maybe will give us some better solutions in the future here. And then it's all about planning. So then you kind of have to take a look at your core questions. So then you need to combine those core questions. I'm going to just put questions as a period. You then want to take those core understandings and determine which materials are best at getting at those core understandings. Maybe it goes the other way around. Maybe you find those materials and determine that these are core understandings that you want your students to have. And then you integrate those into a learning plan. In adversity, we have a design sheet and then we have a syllabus. And that is where all of this happens. The design sheet is sort of here. We try to kind of kickstart the philosophizing and the thinking. And then in step three, you move from that design sheet into creating a syllabus. And that is where you're creating the learning plan. And really important to this section is making sure that you're not doing any extra stuff. You want to make sure that everything you do connects back to that core question and to those core goals. And that's actually really important. We want to remember, don't forget these goals. Goals are the most important thing that you should have in your mind as a teacher. So you've got your core questions and I'm going to put in your goals as well. So in the end, it comes back to these two things. That's where you start and you come back around to them. And this middle step is really about finding the way that you do that. So that is kind of a little bit of a sort of very broad, broad description of understanding-based education. It's all about understanding connections. It's all about making those sort of deeper connections between little facts and groups of knowledge and things like that. And it's all about not killing and drilling. It's about finding ways of making an exciting, telling a story and really getting your students enjoying what they're doing. It's all about planning. So it's kind of perfect for online because you need to plan well, otherwise it's going to kind of flop. So that is your introduction. I hope that you enjoyed it. I hope that you understood it. I hope that I made a little bit of sense there. We're going to now move on to some more detailed lessons about planning for your course.


It's not going to stand out in a lot of people's radar, but Zoom, this was the first close today on Zoom above the 50-day moving average. This is literally the first close. If you look at this whole formation here. Welcome to Access a Trader, the number one community for those who are committed to taking control of their trading in order to achieve success, profitability, and longevity. Thank you for joining us. Here's Dan Shapiro to help you find your edge, master your process, and own your future. Hey guys, good evening everybody. Welcome to another edition of the AccessaTrader.com. Nightly wrap up show, hope everybody is doing well. Really good day. I think that's the best way of saying it. Beta hasn't been great for three months. Today, when they finally wake up and when they do, it really is magical. And the most ironic part, 48 hours ago, and this is again, if you're watching this broadcast for the first time, I trade ranges. It doesn't make a difference to me which side the ranges are confirmed to the downside, to the upside. It doesn't make a difference. I love Tesla. I love Tesla as a company. I love Tesla as a brand. But for me, the downside, the upside makes no difference. It's all where the value was. And if you just go back 48 hours ago, Tesla was the first close, literally, below this rising, this whole rising support that it didn't see this type of price action closing below demand since all the way back to September. So ironically, yesterday, I was waiting for the 780 confirmation that never came. And the moral of that story was, like we talked about in the last night's video, don't anticipate, right? Don't anticipate, don't forecast. Just wait for the channel to set up. And when it does, usually good things happen. And ironically, yesterday's video, we talked about how, out of nowhere, 24 hours later, Tesla looked really, really good. And we were watching these ranges in a second. And we'll talk about it. We'll talk about the individual pivots in a second. Big story tonight. Jeff Bezos is stepping down as CEO of Amazon. Obviously, he will still be on a day-to-day, in the know of the company. And Amazon had a really good quarter. The initial response from Bezos stepping down was the sell.  He's still going to be there on a day-to-day basis. Everything's all good in the world. And the stock is up about 40 bucks after hours, which is fine. I think there's a lot more value to the stock tomorrow, especially if it could establish an opening range, hold the trend, and maybe start really appreciating above today's levels, which will be very, very important. Same thing with Google. Google had an excellent quarter. Stock is up $178 on the day. I think it's fantastic. It's pulling up the beta sector. There was a lot of value in beta today going into tomorrow. You're seeing a lot more value in the names. You have Tesla a day away from maybe testing the 900 level all-time highs. So things are really, really good technically. And that's kind of where we want to attack every single trading day. You know, people were talking about today and say, Dan, can you comment on GameStop? What are we commenting on? There's nothing left to comment. Okay. If you've been trading for less than, you know, if you've been trading for more than 15 minutes, you knew it was going to happen. If you watched this video for the last, you know, two weeks, I kept on saying, just take your money. Take your money. Again, you have the right to buy any stock. I think we all agree. We're all on the same side that what the brokers did was wrong. It was horrific. It was sad, the manipulation and the corruption. But at the same time, we kept on saying over and over again, look, you have the right to buy AMC at five, at four, right? At six.   I mean, what are you doing at 450? And again, it became, it wasn't AMC and GME, right? It was more, it's us versus them. And we kept on reiterating that point over and over again. It sounds great. The whole, let's hold hands and everything in between, but you're shooting yourself in the foot in the process. And unfortunately, and you can see this over and over again, bank bank always beats little bank. And unfortunately, that's the reality. So there is no lesson here. Okay. You know, when this happened to us during the dot-com bubble, nobody told us, nobody warned this was going to happen. Anybody who's been, you know, who've been trading for, you know, 15, 20, 25 years, it was just a matter of time. And unfortunately, when the banks really seized control and the brokers really curbed everybody's ability to kind of free trade at will, you know, the pod got pulled and you saw the ramification. So again, was there any lesson learned? What lesson can you possibly learn? History repeated itself. If you got greedy and you held the line or whatever the hell, the social media, you know, a quote of the day is, but at the end of the day, it's the end of the day. And that's unfortunately the events, but that's exactly happened. Kind of moving on.  For what? For what reason? It's counterproductive. Nobody's in this thing. Nobody's even looking at this thing. There's so much good value in the market. When you look at where we are right now, you had some really good things that happened today, technically, Tesla got above this range, reclaimed the five, reclaimed the 10 day moving average. And the only reason why it stopped take is it hit the linear regression. This linear regression gets reclaimed tomorrow. You started seeing today, 875 weeklies, 900 weeklies, 915 weekly. So if Tesla can reclaim this area tomorrow, it's going to go higher. Look at the video, right? The video we talked about in the video last night also in the video. Again, got above this three day range, the same thing as Tesla. We saw 600s for next week, maybe covering some earnings, but look how much room in the video now it has. And again, I know I understand it's called Nvidia or Nvidia, but I call it Nvidia, right? Nvidia. I'm dyslexic, remember. So look how much room you have. You have a lot of value there as well. Intel, we talked about this last night as well, you know, got above this three day range, really good value. What I'm really kind of looking for, look at ZM, right? It's not going to stand out in a lot of people's radar, but Zoom, this was the first close today on Zoom above the 50 day moving average. This is literally the first close. If you look at this whole formation here, as much as it ran to the 50 day moving average on January the 15th, it got rejected. It got rejected here. So this was literally the first close above the 50 day moving average in this whole formation since the stock kind of topped out all the way in November the 30th. So if this is, if Nvidia, excuse me, if Zoom can start building and start reclaiming this whole channel here, look how much room you have. And there is some time before earnings. So maybe there isn't starting, you're getting some good volume coming into the name, maybe you could start stretching. So that looks great as well. So there's a lot of value, guys. And the common theme over and over again, every single day, it's not about the sexy stock. Forget about the GMEs and the AMCs and Wall Street Bets and Wall Street Pets and all this diamonds and just, it's nonsense. It's nonsense. Again, it's 14 year olds telling 13 year olds how to plan for the next trading day. Again, I asked my son, hey Nate, any, any TikTok videos today on AMC? He said, no, why? Oh, no, just asking. So look, guys, if you, if you want to do this for a living, eliminate this nonsense, just eliminate the stuff. By the time retail is talking about it, by the time, you know, they're making TikTok videos and God knows whatever the case, it's over, right? The game is done. And unfortunately, action like this, the last time we saw it was 2000, you know, in 2000, they're in a dot com ever, we're in 2021. And my calculations, if you hold the line, right? Whatever they were saying on, on social media, if you hold the line, you might finally get an uptick around 2041. Best decimation. So, you know, good value today, there's a lot of good value for tomorrow.  We saw a short term 40 expiration in the name, VXRT, another name is going out of its mind. Now, nobody's going to start comparing to these things to the game stops or the world or the AMCs, but there is a lot of similarities. You're getting early shorts, you're getting dips into rising 60 minutes support. And once they start trapping into rising 60 minutes support, there comes the short squeeze again. Again, I have to check with the, with the short. And I don't think it's a lot, but I have to check what's going on with the short interest in VXRT and a stock like CCIV. I don't think it's going to be a lot yet, just because there's such new trading vehicles. But the moral of the story is there's value in the dips into rising 60 minutes support. And until it stops working, rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat. So let's talk about some of the pivots. Very, very aggressive session. This was definitely the trade of the day. Just an absolute monster of a trade. But let's talk about in the video first. If it opens below 534, it needs to build. That was the previous range. If it opens up above, then it needs to confirm the 538 highs macro move to 556 close at the high of the day. A nice move closer roughly around the 843 level. I still think this thing goes higher. If it starts confirming today's ranges, Tesla definitely the trade of the day. This is by far my trade of the day. 850 needs to build. Here was Tesla. It felt so good, man.  So it broke this whole 850 level stopped right in the channel here in the 880 area. Looks great. If it could just reclaim today's channel, this thing probably sees 900 very, very soon. Crowd, nice, nice little move on crowd. I still like crowd into tomorrow. 220 needs to build. Here was crowd. I still like it tomorrow. I think it goes higher. Trading to the 222 level looks higher to me as well. Square had a really big move. 226 rejected twice on the daily needs to build. Here was square, right? So here is the chart on square. You see this whole channel here, guys, right? 226 was the high here. 226 the high here. Once it took out 226, you know, big move, right? To 230. It still looks higher. It's consolidating. This is the highest close in this whole formation. It definitely looks higher as well as long as the market stays up. CRM really big move. 231 needs to build. We saw 242.50 calls coming in. So here was CRM. Took out this whole 231 area. Traded to 236. Looks like it has initial move to 239. Again, 242.50 near term. Call buyers came in. CLDR, very aggressive move. You had 17, 1750 near term call buyers came in. They came for the 20s today. They came for the 22.50s today. 16.50 needs to build on CLDR, right? Traded up to all the way up to 17.50. I still like it. I just think it needs a couple of days to kind of digest. So that looks good as well. JMIA, not a big move at all. 66 needs to build. Not a big move at all.  Not everyone is going to work perfectly. But again, it is what it is. EXPC. I still like it. It didn't close over 16, which I didn't really like. But again, it is what it is. Again, not everything could be a rock star. Huge move there. 390. This is a perfect. It didn't do anything today. Only around like three, four points. But any close over 390 is bullish. And that's exactly what it needed to do. It's exactly what it did. So now we're looking for macro ranges higher on ZM. Tesla, I was joking around, obviously just put it at 900. Start from there. Here comes the call buying CRM. And that is about it. So moral of the story, here's just a couple of here's a couple of just after hours play. We're still watching. I'm still watching this BTW. And if I could start building over 17, we caught this 820 SLS just traded nearly to $10 after the close was pretty good as well. So look, there's a lot of value tomorrow, folks. I can't stress this enough.  Trust technical analysis. It's your only lifeline. It's the most purest, organic form in this crazy, corrupt, septic tank of Wall Street. And the moral of the story is once you get comfortable with technical analysis and believe in the theory that stocks trade organically, buyers clean up sellers, sellers clean up buyers, usually good things are going to happen. Guys, have a great night. God bless. And I'll see you all tomorrow.