lla.thelonelymen-第1节

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　It　was　hot。　The　shallow　place　where　I　lay　atop　the　desert　ridge　was　like　an　oven；　the　rocks　like　burning　coals。　Out　on　the　flat　below；　where　the　Apaches　waited；　the　heat　waves　shimmered　and　danced。　Only　the　far…off　mountains　looked　cool。
　When　I　tried　to　push　out　my　tongue　to　touch　my　cracked　lips　it　was　like　a　dry　stick　in　my　mouth；　and　the　dark　splashes　on　the　rock　were　blood　。。。　my　blood。
　The　round　thing　lying　yonder　with　a　bullet　hole　in　it　was　my　canteen；　but　there　might　be　a　smidgen　of　water　left　in　the　bottom　…　enough　to　keep　me　alive　if　I　could　get　to　it。
　Down　on　the　flat　lay　my　sorrel　horse；　who　had　run　himself　to　death　trying　to　save　my　hide；　and　him　with　a　bullet　hole　in　his　belly。　In　the　saddlebags　were　the　few　odds　and　ends　that　were　likely　to　be　as　much　as　I'd　ever　have　of　possessions　in　this　life；　for　I　didn't　seem　to　be　a　fortunate　man　when　it　came　to　getting　the　riches　of　the　world。
　Back　in　the　high…up　Tennessee　hills　they　used　to　tell　it　that　when　fighting　time　came　around　a　body　should　stand　clear　of　us　Sacketts；　but　those　Apaches　down　yonder　had　never　heard　the　stories；　and　wouldn't　have　paid　them　no　mind　if　they　had。
　If　you　saw　an　Apache　on　a　parade　ground　he　might　not　stack　up　too　much；　but　out　in　the　brush　and　rocks　of　his　native　country；　he　was　a　first…class　fighting　man；　and　maybe　the　greatest　guerrilla　fighter　the　world　ever　saw。
　Squinting　my　eyes　against　the　glare　and　the　thin　trickle　of　salty　sweat　in　my　eyes；　I　clutched　the　stock　of　my　rifle　right　back　of　the　action　and　searched　the　terrain　for　something　at　which　to　shoot。　My　mouth　was　dry；　my　fingers　stiff；　and　my　rifle　action　so　hot　I　daren't　touch　it　unless　to　shoot；　and　quick。
　Down　there　on　the　trail　Billy　Higgins　lay　gut…shot　and　dead；　killed　at　the　last　by　my　own　bullet　to　save　him　from　torture。
　We'd　been　riding　east　in　the　cool　of　the　morning　when　those　Apaches　hit　us　from　out　of　nowhere。　Rightly；　this　wasn't　even　Apache　country。　This　was　Pima　or　Papago　country；　and　they　were　Indians　who　were　friendly　to　us；　and　who　fought　the　Apaches　on　every　occasion。　When　those　Apaches　hit　us　it　was　every　man　for　himself；　and　Billy　Higgins　and　me；　we　taken　out　a…running；　heading　for　the　rocks　where　we　could　make　a　fight　of　it。　An　Apache　with　a　。56　Spencer　reared　up　from　behind　a　greasewood　and　shot　Billy　right　through　the　belly；　opening　him　up　as　if　it　had　been　done　with　a　saber。　It　meant　he　was　dying；　and　he　knew　it。
　Swinging　my　horse；　I　came　back　to　him　where　he　had　fallen；　but　he　looked　up　cool　as　could　be　and　said；　〃You　light　out；　Tell。　I've　seen　some　gut…shot　folks　in　my　time；　but　nobody　had　it　worse　than　me。〃
　The　shock　of　the　bullet　was　still　on　him；　but　in　a　minute　or　two　he　would　begin　to　suffer。
　When　I　got　down　to　lift　him　up　he　stopped　me。　〃Before　God；　Tell；　if　you　try　to　pick　me　up　everything　I've　got　in　me　will　spill　out。　You　hit　the　trail；　but　try　to　get　another　one　for　me；　will　you？　You　can　help　more　up　in　the　rocks；　keepin'　them　off　me。〃
　What　he　said　was　gospel　true　and　we　both　knew　it；　so　I　swung　my　horse　and　lit　a　shuck　for　those　rocks　as　if　my　sorrel's　tail　was　afire。　Only　we　didn't　get　far。　I　heard　the　shots　and　felt　the　sorrel's　hoofs　break　rythm；　and　then　he　started　to　cave　under　me；　but　somehow　he　fought　himself　up　and　kept　on　for　fifty　yards　more。　Then　he　started　to　go　and　I　hit　the　ground　running　before　he　was　down；　with　bullets　kicking　gravel　ahead　of　and　around　me。
　Almost　at　the　top　of　the　ridge　a　bullet　caught　me；　and　it　saved　my　life。
　It　spun　me；　knocked　me　rolling　butt　over　teakettle　into　the　rocks；　with　two　more　bullets　hitting　right　where　I'd　been。　Scrambling　up；　I　dove　over　into　that　shallow　place　and　lay　there；　rifle　in　hand；　hugging　the　ground。　When　the　first　Apache　showed；　I　nailed　him　right　between　the　eyes。
　After　that　things　quieted　down；　but　there　was　no　way　to　get　clear。　The　ground　around　me　hadn't　anything　in　the　way　of　cover；　so　I　had　to　stay　where　I　was　。。。　with　the　morning　ebbing　away　into　noontime。
　I'd　no　idea　how　many　Apaches　were　out　there。　As　they　lived　off　the　desert　they　never　traveled　in　big　bunches；　there　were　rarely　as　many　as　thirty；　more　often　twelve　to　eighteen；　so　far　as　I'd　seen　or　heard。
　Off　to　the　northwest　I　could　hear　shooting；　time　to　time；　so　some　of　the　others　must　be　alive；　after　all。　There'd　been　five　of　us；　to　start；　and　all　strangers　who　met　in　Yuma。　That　was　the　way　it　was　in　those　days。　More　often　than　not　a　man　might　find　himself　traveling　with　folks　he'd　never　seen　before。　None　of　the　five　of　us　had　any　knowledge　of　the　others　before　we　hit　the　trail。　Traveling　alone　was　a　mighty　chancy　thing　in　Indian　country；　so　it　was　lucky　that　we　all　shaped　up　to　go　east　at　the　same　time。
　Now　Billy　was　down；　but　I'd　nailed　an　Apache。　Right　at　the　moment　my　chances　didn't　look　good。　If　they　were　settin'　a　place　for　me　in　Tucson　they'd　best　wait；　for　it　began　to　look　like　there'd　be　an　empty　spot　at　the　table。
　I　hunkered　down　a　mite　and　piled　a　few　rocks　on　the　edge　of　the　hollow　to　give　me　some　more　protection；　leaving　a　place　here　and　there　to　look　through　or　fire　through。　I　took　time　to　replace　the　shells　I'd　fired　。。。　no　idea　when　the　chance　would　e　again。
　Apaches　are　great　waiters。　They　could　set　for　hours　on　end；　just　waiting　a　wrong　move。　A　white　man；　he　gets　restless；　wants　to　move；　and　the　first　thing　you　know　he　does；　and　he　dies。
　Not　me。　I　grew　up　in　Cherokee　country　in　Tennessee；　and　my　pa　had　been　a　mountain　man　who'd　fought　Indians　from　boyhood　。。。　he'd　taught　us　when　he　was　home；　taught　us　all　he　could；　and　I　learned　from　the　Indians；　too。
　This　shallow　place　in　which　I　lay　was　scarcely　three　feet　deep。　It　was　maybe　eight　feet　each　way；　and　the　lowest　part　was　where　the　run…off　water　had　started　a　trench　that　emptied　into　a　draw　in　back　of　me。
　The　sky　was　a　hot　yellow；　the　land　pinkish；　with　out…croppings　of　dull　red　or　black。　There　was　mighty　little　growth　…　just　scraggly　desert　shrubs　and　prickly　pear；　and　mighty　little　of　that。
　The　time　inched　by；　with　no　change　in　the　heat；　no　change　in　the　sun；　no　change　in　the　country　around。　Unless　I　lifted　my　head；　nothing　could　be　seen　and　I　must　trust　to　my　hearing。
　On　the　slope；　there　was　nothing。　My　horse　lay　down　there；　and　the　body　of　Billy　Higgins。
　I　hadn't　been　there　long　when　I　heard　Billy　scream。　Taking　a　chance；　I　peeked　out。
　The　Apaches　were　shooting　flaming　slivers　of　pitch　pine　into　him　with　their　bows。　They　were　hidden　down　close　to　him；　and　there　was　no　way　I　could　get　at　them；　nor　them　at　me。　They　were　shooting　into　Billy　to　torture　him；　which　amused　them；　but　also　they　were　doing　it　to　draw　me　out。
　Three　fires　were　smoldering　in　him　before　he　screamed。　And　then　he　yelled　to　me：　〃Tell！　For　God's　sake；　Tell！　Shoot　me！〃
　He　lay　out　on　the　white　sand　in　the　glare　of　the　awful　sun；　ripped　open　by　a　bullet；　and　the　Apaches　kept　shooting　those　little　arrows　of　flaming　pitch　pine　into　him。　〃Tell！〃
　There　was　terrible　agony　in　his　voice；　and　a　pleading；　too。
　All　of　a　sudden；　he　forced　himself　up　and　he　put　a　finger　against　his　skull。　〃Tell！　Right　there！　For　God's　sake；　Tell！〃
　So　I　shot　him。　He　would　have　done　it　for　me。
　You　should　have　heard　those　Apaches　yell。　I'd　spoiled　their　fun；　and　they　were　mad；　real　mad。
　One　of　them　jumped　up；　running　at　me；　but　just　as　I　was　about　to　shoot　he　dropped　from　sight；　then　another　started　and　another；　both　disappearing　before　I　could　bring　my　rifle　to　bear；　but　each　one　a　few　yards　closer。
　Times　like　that；　a　body　does　some　thinking；　and　right　then　I　was　a…wishing　I　was　somewhere　else；　a…wishing　I'd　never　e　to　Arizona　a…tall；　although　until　then　I'd　been　mighty　proud　of　the　Territory；　and　even　though　hard　times　had　e　upon　me　I　liked　the　country。　Right　now　all　I　wanted　was　a　way　out　。。。　any　way　out。　But　those　Apaches　had　a　mind　to　keep　me　there。
　All　of　a　sudden　one　of　them　came　up　out　of　the　sand　and　started　for　me；　but　when　I　swung　my　gun；　another　started　up。
　Now；　even　a　fool　boy　from　the　hills　is　going　to　learn　after　a　while；　and　so　the　next　time　one　started　up　I　didn't　swing　my　gun　and　try　to　nail　him；　I　just　waited　with　my　eyes　on　the　place　where　the　first　one　dropped。　Not　exactly　on　the　place；　for　no　Apache　will　ever　get　up　from　where　he　drops；　he　rolls　over　a　few　feet　to　right　or　left；　sometimes　quite　a　few　feet。
　Another　of　them　started　up；　but　I　let　him　e　until　he　dropped；　and　I　waited　for　the　first　one。　Sure　enough；　up　he　bobbed　and　I　had　to　move　the　rifle　muzzle　only　inches；　and　I　nailed　him　right　in　the　brisket；　dusting　him　on　both　sides。　Before　he　could　fall　I　worked　the　lever　on　my　Winchester　and　got　him　again。
　Then　the　others　were　ing　and；　swinging　the　gun；　I　caught　another　one　。。。　too　low　down。　He　hit　the　ground　in　the　open　and　the　third　one　also　dropped；　not　more　than　twenty　feet　now　from　the　rim　of　my　hollow。
　One　lay　out　there　with　what　looked　like　a　busted　leg；　and　I　let　him　lay　until　he　tried　to　bring　his　rifle　to　bear；　and　then　I　eased　around　for　a　shot　at　him。　The　muzzle　of　my　rifle　must　have　showed　a　mite　beyond　the　rocks　at　the　edge　of　my　hole；　because　the　third　one　fired；　hitting　the　rocks　and　spattering　me　with　stinging　rock　fragments；　one　of　which　took　me　right　in　th