to the last man-第54部分

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struck　Jean　so　singularly　that　he　halted　with　a　muttered　exclamation。
He　was　now　about　fifty　paces　from　Queen；　within　range　of　those　small　
guns。　　Jean　called；　sharply；　〃QUEEN！〃　Still　the　figure　never　relaxed
in　the　slightest。

Jean　advanced　a　few　more　paces；　rifle　up；　ready　to　fire　the　instant
Queen　lifted　a　gun。　　The　man's　immobility　brought　the　cold　sweat　to
Jean's　brow。　　He　stopped　to　bend　the　full　intense　power　of　his　gaze
upon　this　inert　figure。　　Suddenly　over　Jean　flashed　its　meaning。
Queen　was　dead。　　He　had　backed　up　against　the　pine；　ready　to　face
his　foe；　and　he　had　died　there。　　Not　a　shadow　of　a　doubt　entered　Jean's
mind　as　he　started　forward　again。　　He　knew。　　After　all；　Queen's　blood
would　not　be　on　his　hands。　　Gordon　and　Fredericks　in　their　death　throes
had　given　the　rustler　mortal　wounds。　　Jean　kept　on；　marveling　the　while。
How　ghastly　thin　and　hard！　　Those　four　days　of　flight　had　been　hell
for　Queen。

Jean　reached　himlooked　down　with　staring　eyes。　　The　guns　were　tied
to　his　hands。　　Jean　started　violently　as　the　whole　direction　of　his
mind　shifted。　　A　lightning　glance　showed　that　Queen　had　been　propped
against　the　treeanother　showed　boot　tracks　in　the　dust。

〃By　Heaven；　they've　fooled　me！〃　hissed　Jean；　and　quickly　as　he　leaped
behind　the　pine　he　was　not　quick　enough　to　escape　the　cunning　rustlers
who　had　waylaid　him　thus。　　He　felt　the　shock；　the　bite　and　burn　of　lead
before　he　heard　a　rifle　crack。　　A　bullet　had　ripped　through　his　left
forearm。　　From　behind　the　tree　he　saw　a　puff　of　white　smoke　along　the
face　of　the　bluffthe　very　spot　his　keen　and　gloomy　vigilance　had
descried　as　one　of　menace。　　Then　several　puffs　of　white　smoke　and
ringing　reports　betrayed　the　ambush　of　the　tricksters。　　Bullets　barked
the　pine　and　whistled　by。　　Jean　saw　a　man　dart　from　behind　a　rock　and；
leaning　over；　run　for　another。　　Jean's　swift　shot　stopped　him　midway。
He　fell；　got　up；　and　floundered　behind　a　bush　scarcely　large　enough　to
conceal　him。　　Into　that　bush　Jean　shot　again　and　again。　　He　had　no　pain
in　his　wounded　arm；　but　the　sense　of　the　shock　clung　in　his　consciousness；
and　this；　with　the　tremendous　surprise　of　the　deceit；　and　sudden　release
of　long…dammed　overmastering　passion；　caused　him　to　empty　the　magazine　of
his　Winchester　in　a　terrible　haste　to　kill　the　man　he　had　hit。

These　were　all　the　loads　he　had　for　his　rifle。　　Blood　passion　had　made
him　blunder。　　Jean　cursed　himself；　and　his　hand　moved　to　his　belt。　　His
six…shooter　was　gone。　　The　sheath　had　been　loose。　　He　had　tied　the　gun
fast。　　But　the　strings　had　been　torn　apart。　　The　rustlers　were　shooting
again。　　Bullets　thudded　into　the　pine　and　whistled　by。　　Bending
carefully；　Jean　reached　one　of　Queen's　guns　and　jerked　it　from　his　hand。
The　weapon　was　empty。　　Both　of　his　guns　were　empty。　　Jean　peeped　out
again　to　get　the　line　in　which　the　bullets　were　coming　and；　marking　a
course　from　his　position　to　the　cover　of　the　forest；　he　ran　with　all
his　might。　　He　gained　the　shelter。　　Shrill　yells　behind　warned　him　that
he　had　been　seen；　that　his　reason　for　flight　had　been　guessed。　　Looking
back；　he　saw　two　or　three　men　scrambling　down　the　bluff。　　Then　the　loud
neigh　of　a　frightened　horse　pealed　out。

Jean　discarded　his　useless　rifle；　and　headed　down　the　ridge　slope；
keeping　to　the　thickest　line　of　pines　and　sheering　around　the　clumps
of　spruce。　　As　he　ran；　his　mind　whirled　with　grim　thoughts　of　escape；
of　his　necessity　to　find　the　camp　where　Gordon　and　Fredericks　were
buried；　there　to　procure　another　rifle　and　ammunition。　　He　felt　the
wet　blood　dripping　down　his　arm；　yet　no　pain。　　The　forest　was　too　open
for　good　cover。　　He　dared　not　run　uphill。　　His　only　course　was　ahead；
and　that　soon　ended　in　an　abrupt　declivity　too　precipitous　to　descend。
As　be　halted；　panting　for　breath；　he　heard　the　ring　of　hoofs　on　stone；
then　the　thudding　beat　of　running　horses　on　soft　ground。　　The　rustlers
had　sighted　the　direction　he　had　taken。　　Jean　did　not　waste　time　to
look。　　Indeed；　there　was　no　need；　for　as　he　bounded　along　the　cliff　to
the　right　a　rifle　cracked　and　a　bullet　whizzed　over　his　head。　　It　lent
wings　to　his　feet。　　Like　a　deer　he　sped　along；　leaping　cracks　and　logs
and　rocks；　his　ears　filled　by　the　rush　of　wind；　until　his　quick　eye
caught　sight　of　thick…growing　spruce　foliage　close　to　the　precipice。
He　sprang　down　into　the　green　mass。　　His　weight　precipitated　him　through
the　upper　branches。　　But　lower　down　his　spread　arms　broke　his　fall；
then　retarded　it　until　he　caught。　　A　long；　swaying　limb　let　him　down
and　down；　where　he　grasped　another　and　a　stiffer　one　that　held　his　weight。
Hand　over　hand　he　worked　toward　the　trunk　of　this　spruce　and；　gaining　it；
he　found　other　branches　close　together　down　which　he　hastened；　hold　by
hold　and　step　by　step；　until　all　above　him　was　black；　dense　foliage；
and　beneath　him　the　brown；　shady　slope。　　Sure　of　being　unseen　from　above；
he　glided　noiselessly　down　under　the　trees；　slowly　regaining　freedom
from　that　constriction　of　his　breast。

Passing　on　to　a　gray…lichened　cliff；　overhanging　and　gloomy；　he　paused
there　to　rest　and　to　listen。　　A　faint　crack　of　hoof　on　stone　came　to
him　from　above；　apparently　farther　on　to　the　right。　　Eventually　his
pursuers　would　discover　that　he　had　taken　to　the　canyon。　　But　for　the
moment　he　felt　safe。　　The　wound　in　his　forearm　drew　his　attention。
The　bullet　had　gone　clear　through　without　breaking　either　bone。
His　shirt　sleeve　was　soaked　　with　blood。　　Jean　rolled　it　back　and
tightly　wrapped　his　scarf　around　the　wound；　yet　still　the　dark…red
blood　oozed　out　and　dripped　down　into　his　hand。　　He　became　aware　of
a　dull；　throbbing　pain。

Not　much　time　did　Jean　waste　in　arriving　at　what　was　best　to　do。
For　the　time　being　he　had　escaped；　and　whatever　had　been　his　peril；
it　was　past。　　In　dense；　rugged　country　like　this　he　could　not　be
caught　by　rustlers。　　But　he　had　only　a　knife　left　for　a　weapon；
and　there　was　very　little　meat　in　the　pocket　of　his　coat。　　Salt　and
matches　he　possessed。　　Therefore　the　imperative　need　was　for　him　to
find　the　last　camp；　where　he　could　get　rifle　and　ammunition；　bake　bread；
and　rest　up　before　taking　again　the　trail　of　the　rustlers。　　He　had　reason
to　believe　that　this　canyon　was　the　one　where　the　fight　on　the　Rim；
and　later；　on　a　bench　of　woodland　below；　had　taken　place。

Thereupon　he　arose　and　glided　down　under　the　spruces　toward　the　level；
grassy　open　he　could　see　between　the　trees。　　And　as　he　proceeded；
with　the　slow　step　and　wary　eye　of　an　Indian；　his　mind　was　busy。

Queen　had　in　his　flight　unerringly　worked　in　the　direction　of　this
canyon　until　he　became　lost　in　the　fog；　and　upon　regaining　his　bearings
he　had　made　a　wonderful　and　heroic　effort　to　surmount　the　manzanita
slope　and　the　Rim　and　find　the　rendezvous　of　his　comrades。　　But　he　had
failed　up　there　on　the　ridge。　　In　thinking　it　over　Jean　arrived　at　a
conclusion　that　Queen；　finding　be　could　go　no　farther；　had　waited；
guns　in　hands；　for　his　pursuer。　　And　he　had　died　in　this　position。
Then　by　strange　coincidence　his　comrades　had　happened　to　come　across
him　and；　recognizing　the　situation；　they　had　taken　the　shells　from　his
guns　and　propped　him　up　with　the　idea　of　luring　Jean　on。　　They　had
arranged　a　cunning　trick　and　ambush；　which　had　all　but　snuffed　out
the　last　of　the　Isbels。　　Colter　probably　had　been　at　the　bottom　of　
this　crafty　plan。　　Since　the　fight　at　the　Isbel　ranch；　now　seemingly
far　back　in　the　past；　this　man　Colter　had　loomed　up　more　and　more　as
a　stronger　and　more　dangerous　antagonist　then　either　Jorth　or　Daggs。
Before　that　he　had　been　little　known　to　any　of　the　Isbel　faction。
And　it　was　Colter　now　who　controlled　the　remnant　of　the　gang　and　who
had　Ellen　Jorth　in　his　possession。

The　canyon　wall　above　Jean；　on　the　right；　grew　more　rugged　and　loftier；
and　the　one　on　the　left　began　to　show　wooded　slopes　and　brakes；　and　at
last　a　wide　expanse　with　a　winding；　willow　border　on　the　west　and　a　long；
low；　pine…dotted　bench　on　the　east。　　It　took　several　moments　of　study
for　Jean　to　recognize　the　rugged　bluff　above　this　bench。　　On　up　that
canyon　several　miles　was　the　site　where　Queen　had　surprised　Jean　and
his　comrades　at　their　campfire。　　Somewhere　in　this　vicinity　was　the
hiding　place　of　the　rustlers。

Thereupon　Jean　proceeded　with　the　utmost　stealth；　absolutely　certain
that　he　would　miss　no　sound；　movement；　sign；　or　anything　unnatural　to
the　wild　peace　of　the　canyon。　　And　his　first　sense　to　register　something
was　his　keen　smell。　　Sheep！　　He　was　amazed　to　smell　sheep。　　There　must
be　a　flock　not　far　away。　　Then　from　where　he　glided　along　under　the
trees　he　saw　down　to　open　places　in　the　willow　brake　and　noticed　sheep
tracks　in　the　dark；　muddy　bank　of　the　brook。　　Next　he　heard　faint　tinkle
of　bells；　and　at　length；　when　he　could　see　farther　into　the　open
enlargement　of　the　canyon；　his　surprised　gaze　fell　upon　an　immense　gray；
woolly　patch　that　blotted　out　acres　and　acres　of　grass。　　Thousands　of
sheep　were　grazing　there。　　Jean　knew　there　were　several　flocks　of
Jorth's　sheep　on　the　mountain　in　the　care　of　herders；　but　he　had
never　thought　of　them　being　so　far　west；　more　than　twenty　miles　from
Chevelon　Canyon。　　His　roving　eyes