to the last man-第2部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　　　wildness　seemed　more　for　the　woods。　　You　take　after　mother；　and
　　　your　brothers　Bill　and　Guy　take　after　me。　　That　is　the　red　and
　　　white　of　it。　　Your　part　Indian；　Jean；　and　that　Indian　I　reckon
　　　I　am　going　to　need　bad。　　I　am　rich　in　cattle　and　horses。　　And　my
　　　range　here　is　the　best　I　ever　seen。　　Lately　we　have　been　losing
　　　stock。　　But　that　is　not　all　nor　so　bad。　　Sheepmen　have　moved　into
　　　the　Tonto　and　are　grazing　down　on　Grass　Vally。　　Cattlemen　and
　　　sheepmen　can　never　bide　in　this　country。　　We　have　bad　times　ahead。
　　　Reckon　I　have　more　reasons　to　worry　and　need　you；　but　you　must　wait
　　　to　hear　that　by　word　of　mouth。　　Whatever　your　doing；　chuck　it　and
　　　rustle　for　Grass　Vally　so　to　make　here　by　spring。　　I　am　asking　you
　　　to　take　pains　to　pack　in　some　guns　and　a　lot　of　shells。　　And　hide
　　　them　in　your　outfit。　　If　you　meet　anyone　when　your　coming　down　into
　　　the　Tonto；　listen　more　than　you　talk。　　And　last；　son；　dont　let
　　　anything　keep　you　in　Oregon。　　Reckon　you　have　a　sweetheart；　and
　　　if　so　fetch　her　along。　　With　love　from　your　dad；
　　　GASTON　ISBEL。

Jean　pondered　over　this　letter。　judged　by　memory　of　his　father；　who
had　always　been　self…sufficient；　it　had　been　a　surprise　and　somewhat
of　a　shock。　　Weeks　of　travel　and　reflection　had　not　helped　him　to
grasp　the　meaning　between　the　lines。

〃Yes；　dad's　growin'　old；〃　mused　Jean；　feeling　a　warmth　and　a　sadness
stir　in　him。　　〃He　must　be　'way　over　sixty。　　But　he　never　looked　old。
。　。　。　So　he's　rich　now　an'　losin'　stock；　an'　goin'　to　be　sheeped　off
his　range。　　Dad　could　stand　a　lot　of　rustlin'；　but　not　much　from
sheepmen。〃

The　softness　that　stirred　in　Jean　merged　into　a　cold；　thoughtful
earnestness　which　had　followed　every　perusal　of　his　father's　letter。
A　dark；　full　current　seemed　flowing　in　his　veins；　and　at　times　he
felt　it　swell　and　heat。　　It　troubled　him；　making　him　conscious　of　a
deeper；　stronger　self；　opposed　to　his　careless；　free；　and　dreamy
nature。　　No　ties　had　bound　him　in　Oregon；　except　love　for　the　great；
still　forests　and　the　thundering　rivers；　and　this　love　came　from　his
softer　side。　　It　had　cost　him　a　wrench　to　leave。　　And　all　the　way　by
ship　down　the　coast　to　San　Diego　and　across　the　Sierra　Madres　by　stage；
and　so　on　to　this　last　overland　travel　by　horseback；　he　had　felt　a
retreating　of　the　self　that　was　tranquil　and　happy　and　a　dominating
of　this　unknown　somber　self；　with　its　menacing　possibilities。　　Yet
despite　a　nameless　regret　and　a　loyalty　to　Oregon；　when　he　lay　in　his
blankets　he　had　to　confess　a　keen　interest　in　his　adventurous　future；
a　keen　enjoyment　of　this　stark；　wild　Arizona。　　It　appeared　to　be　a
different　sky　stretching　in　dark；　star…spangled　dome　over　himcloser；
vaster；　bluer。　　The　strong　fragrance　of　sage　and　cedar　floated　over
him　with　the　camp…fire　smoke；　and　all　seemed　drowsily　to　subdue　his
thoughts。

At　dawn　he　rolled　out　of　his　blankets　and；　pulling　on　his　boots；
began　the　day　with　a　zest　for　the　work　that　must　bring　closer　his
calling　future。　　White；　crackling　frost　and　cold；　nipping　air　were
the　same　keen　spurs　to　action　that　he　had　known　in　the　uplands　of
Oregon；　yet　they　were　not　wholly　the　same。　　He　sensed　an　exhilaration
similar　to　the　effect　of　a　strong；　sweet　wine。　　His　horse　and　mule　had
fared　well　during　the　night；　having　been　much　refreshed　by　the　grass
and　water　of　the　little　canyon。　　Jean　mounted　and　rode　into　the　cedars
with　gladness　that　at　last　he　had　put　the　endless　leagues　of　barren
land　behind　him。

The　trail　he　followed　appeared　to　be　seldom　traveled。　　It　led；
according　to　the　meager　information　obtainable　at　the　last　settlement；
directly　to　what　was　called　the　Rim；　and　from　there　Grass　Valley　could
be　seen　down　in　the　Basin。　　The　ascent　of　the　ground　was　so　gradual
that　only　in　long；　open　stretches　could　it　be　seen。　　But　the　nature
of　the　vegetation　showed　Jean　how　he　was　climbing。　　Scant；　low；　scraggy
cedars　gave　place　to　more　numerous；　darker；　greener；　bushier　ones；
and　these　to　high；　full…foliaged；　green…berried　trees。　　Sage　and　grass
in　the　open　flats　grew　more　luxuriously。　　Then　came　the　pinyons；　and
presently　among　them　the　checker…barked　junipers。　　Jean　hailed　the
first　pine　tree　with　a　hearty　slap　on　the　brown；　rugged　bark。　　It　was
a　small　dwarf　pine　struggling　to　live。　　The　next　one　was　larger；　and
after　that　came　several；　and　beyond　them　pines　stood　up　everywhere
above　the　lower　trees。　　Odor　of　pine　needles　mingled　with　the　other
dry　smells　that　made　the　wind　pleasant　to　Jean。　　In　an　hour　from　the
first　line　of　pines　he　had　ridden　beyond　the　cedars　and　pinyons　into
a　slowly　thickening　and　deepening　forest。　　Underbrush　appeared　scarce
except　in　ravines；　and　the　ground　in　open　patches　held　a　bleached　grass。
Jean's　eye　roved　for　sight　of　squirrels；　birds；　deer；　or　any　moving
creature。　　It　appeared　to　be　a　dry；　uninhabited　forest。　　About　midday
Jean　halted　at　a　pond　of　surface　water；　evidently　melted　snow；　and
gave　his　animals　a　drink。　　He　saw　a　few　old　deer　tracks　in　the　mud
and　several　huge　bird　tracks　new　to　him　which　he　concluded　must　have
been　made　by　wild　turkeys。

The　trail　divided　at　this　pond。　　Jean　had　no　idea　which　branch　he
ought　to　take。　　〃Reckon　it　doesn't　matter；〃　he　muttered；　as　he　was
about　to　remount。　　His　horse　was　standing　with　ears　up；　looking　back
along　the　trail。　　Then　Jean　heard　a　clip…clop　of　trotting　hoofs；
and　presently　espied　a　horseman。

Jean　made　a　pretense　of　tightening　his　saddle　girths　while　he　peered
over　his　horse　at　the　approaching　rider。　　All　men　in　this　country　were
going　to　be　of　exceeding　interest　to　Jean　Isbel。　　This　man　at　a　distance
rode　and　looked　like　all　the　Arizonians　Jean　had　seen；　he　had　a　superb
seat　in　the　saddle；　and　he　was　long　and　lean。　　He　wore　a　huge　black
sombrero　and　a　soiled　red　scarf。　　His　vest　was　open　and　he　was　without
a　coat。

The　rider　came　trotting　up　and　halted　several　paces　from　Jean

〃Hullo；　stranger！　〃　he　said；　gruffly。

〃Howdy　yourself！〃　replied　Jean。　　He　felt　an　instinctive　importance
in　the　meeting　with　the　man。　　Never　had　sharper　eyes　flashed　over
Jean　and　his　outfit。　　He　had　a　dust…colored；　sun…burned　face；　long；
lean；　and　hard；　a　huge　sandy　mustache　that　hid　his　mouth；　and　eyes
of　piercing　light　intensity。　　Not　very　much　hard　Western　experience
had　passed　by　this　man；　yet　he　was　not　old；　measured　by　years。
　When　he　dismounted　Jean　saw　he　was　tall；　even　for　an　Arizonian。

〃Seen　your　tracks　back　a　ways；〃　he　said；　as　he　slipped　the　bit　to　let
his　horse　drink。　　〃Where　bound？〃

〃Reckon　I'm　lost；　all　right；〃　replied　Jean。　　〃New　country　for　me。〃

〃Shore。　　I　seen　thet　from　your　tracks　an'　your　last　camp。　　Wal；　where
was　you　headin'　for　before　you　got　lost？〃

The　query　was　deliberately　cool；　with　a　dry；　crisp　ring。　　Jean　felt
the　lack　of　friendliness　or　kindliness　in　it。

〃Grass　Valley。　　My　name's　Isbel；〃　he　replied；　shortly。

The　rider　attended　to　his　drinking　horse　and　presently　rebridled　him；
then　with　long　swing　of　leg　he　appeared　to　step　into　the　saddle。

〃Shore　I　knowed　you　was　Jean　Isbel；〃　he　said。　　〃Everybody　in　the　Tonto
has　heerd　old　Gass　Isbel　sent　fer　his　boy。〃

〃Well　then；　why　did　you　ask？〃　inquired　Jean；　bluntly。

〃Reckon　I　wanted　to　see　what　you'd　say。〃

〃So？　　All　right。　　But　I'm　not　carin'　very　much　for　what　YOU　say。〃

Their　glances　locked　steadily　then　and　each　measured　the　other　by
the　intangible　conflict　of　spirit。

〃Shore　thet's　natural；〃　replied　the　rider。　　His　speech　was　slow；
and　the　motions　of　his　long；　brown　hands；　as　he　took　a　cigarette
from　his　vest；　kept　time　with　his　words。　　〃But　seein'　you're　one
of　the　Isbels；　I'll　hev　my　say　whether　you　want　it　or　not。　　My　name's
Colter　an'　I'm　one　of　the　sheepmen　Gass　Isbel's　riled　with。〃

〃Colter。　　Glad　to　meet　you；〃　replied　Jean。　　〃An'　I　reckon　who　riled
my　father　is　goin'　to　rile　me。〃

〃Shore。　　If　thet　wasn't so　you'd　not　be　an　Isbel；〃　returned　Colter；
with　a　grim　little　laugh。　　〃It's　easy　to　see　you　ain't　run　into　any
Tonto　Basin　fellers　yet。　　Wal；　I'm　goin'　to　tell　you　thet　your　old
man　gabbed　like　a　woman　down　at　Greaves's　store。　　Bragged　aboot　you
an'　how　you　could　fight　an'　how　you　could　shoot　an'　how　you　could
track　a　hoss　or　a　man！　　Bragged　how　you'd　chase　every　sheep　herder
back　up　on　the　Rim。　。　。　。　I'm　tellin'　you　because　we　want　you　to　git
our　stand　right。　　We're　goin'　to　run　sheep　down　in　Grass　Valley。〃

〃Ahuh！　　Well；　who's　we？〃　queried　Jean；　curtly。

〃What…at？　。　。　。　WeI　mean　the　sheepmen　rangin'　this　Rim　from
Black　Butte　to　the　Apache　country。〃

〃Colter；　I'm　a　stranger　in　Arizona；〃　said　Jean；　slowly。　　I　know　little
about　ranchers　or　sheepmen。　　It's　true　my　father　sent　for　me。　　It's
true；　I　dare　say；　that　he　bragged；　for　he　was　given　to　bluster　an'　blow。
An'　he's　old　now。　　I　can't　help　it　if　he　bragged　about　me。　　But　if　he
has；　an'　if　he's　justified　in　his　stand　against　you　sheepmen；　Im　goin'
to　do　my　best　to　live　up　to　his　brag。　〃

〃I　get　your　hunch。　　Shore　we　understand　each　other；　an'　thet's　a
powerful　help。　　You　take　my　hunch　to　your　old　man；〃　replied　Colter；
as　he　turned　his　horse　away　toward　the　left。　　〃Thet　trail　leadin'
south　is　yours。　　When　you　come　to　the　Rim　you'll　see　a　bare　spot　down