lla.theburninghills-第16节

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　Fifteen　miles　back；　huddled　under　an　escarpment　of　sandstone；　Hindeman　and　his　men　made　dry　camp。　It　had　been　a　day　of　defeat；　of　heat；　dust　and　cacti。
　At　dawn　they　had　found　Jack　Sutton。　He　had　been　shot　dead　and　it　had　been　good　shooting。　His　gun；　unfired；　lay　near　his　hand。　Looking　down　at　the　body；　Buck　Bayless　felt　a　moment　of　shock；　of　near　terror。　What　kind　of　a　man　was　Jordan？
　Wounded　unto　death；　he　escaped。　Days　later　he　came　from　hiding　and　left　not　a　ghost　of　a　trail　and　now　he　had　slain　Jack　Sutton。　Buck　Bayless　felt　his　courage　draining　from　him。　He　felt　sick　and　whipped。
　Wes　Parker　touched　his　tongue　to　his　lips　and　stole　a　careful　look　at　Hindeman。　Yet　he　knew　Hindeman　would　go　on。　It　was　a　trait　of　Hindeman's　that　he　had　admired。　Now　he　cursed　it
　Ben　Hindeman　could　feel　no　remorse。　Sooner　or　later　he　would　have　had　to　kill　Jack　Sutton　himself　or　be　killed。　Now　the　man　was　dead；　finished。　〃Woman　crazy〃　he　said　aloud。　〃If　he　left　her　alone；　he'd　be　alive。〃
　〃She's　a　curse；〃　Buck　Bayless　said　resentfully。　〃Shell　be　the　death　of　us　all。　Let　her　go；　I　say；　and　good　riddance。〃
　Ben　Hindeman　was　angrily　impatient　〃We　can　let　her　go；〃　he　said；　〃but　we　can't　let　him　go。　If　one　man　can　wipe　his　feet　on　the　Sutton…Bayless　outfit；　we　won't　last　out　the　year。　We　kill　him　or　we　all　go。〃
　He　swung　a　wide　arm　at　the　country。　〃There's　fifty　outfits　in　Arizona　and　New　Mexico　who　want　our　graze。　There's　two　or　three　mighty　near　strong　enough　to　do　it。　Like　John　Slaughter。。。　that's　why　I　kept　Jack　and　Mort　from　going　that　way。〃
　They　were　still　there　when　Mort　Bayless　came　in　with　four　men。　These　were　the　tough　ones；　the　men　with　a　reason　to　want　Trace　Jordan　dead。　Mort　Bayless　had　used　an　argument　they　could　understand。　〃We　got　him　runnin'；〃　he　said。　〃You　think　he'll　let　up　if　we　quit？　Not　by　a　damn　sightl
　〃He'll　bide　his　time　an'　he'll　e　back。　Folks　will　talk；　he'll　know　who　got　his　horses。　He'll　hunt　down　every　man…jack　of　us；　you'll　see！〃
　He　knew　men…fears　because　he　knew　his　own。　This　was　a　danger　they　understood。　Jordan　was　a　tough　man　and　they　had　been　fools　to　listen　to　Jack　Sutton。　Beside　the　fire　they　hunkered　down　and　made　war　talk。
　〃Where'll　they　go？〃　Hindeman　asked　Lantz。
　The　old　man　spat　into　the　fire。　〃No　tellin'。　With　the　Mex　gal　we　could　figure　some　but　Jordan's　taken　the　lead　now　an'　he　knows　where　he's　goin'。　This　here　desert　is　out　of　my　knowin'。　Might　be　a　sight　of　places　around　if　a　body　knew　'em。〃
　He　took　a　pull　at　the　coffee。　〃You　been　thinkin'；　Ben？　This　here's　Apache　country。　We　get　caught　down　here　an'　we're　in　genuine　trouble。〃
　〃No　matter。　We'll　find　him。〃
　〃Worse'n　huntin'　a　needle　in　a　haystack；〃　Buck　Bayless　plained。　〃We'd　have　to　hunt　up　every　canyon。　Take　us　ten　year。〃
　〃Hadn't　better；〃　Ben　Hindeman　replied　dryly。　〃Your　wife　will　forget　you　in　that　time。〃
　Wes　Parker　lifted　himself　to　an　elbow。　〃I'm　goin'　back。　I'm　catchin'　me　that　Mex　kid。　If　that　gal　knows　a　hideout　down　here；　that　kid　should　know。〃
　Ben　Hindeman　considered　that。　He　did　not　like　to　have　anyone　abused　but　the　situation　was　getting　out　of　hand。　They　were　losing　time　and　the　ranch　needed　them。　All　had　work　that　needed　doing。　Moreover；　for　the　first　time　he　was　finding　an　element　of　doubt。　The　increased　caution　of　Lantz　was　part　of　it。
　〃All　right；　Wes。　Take　Buck　with　you。　Maybe　he'll　be　better　huntin'a　Mex　than　a　man。〃
　〃Aw；　Ben！〃　Buck　protested　plaintively。　〃That　ain't　no　…〃
　〃Shut　up！〃　Ben　was　exasperated。　〃Jake；　you　do　something　about　where　they　might　go。　Meanwhile　we'll　get　some　sleep。〃
　Lantz　spat　out　his　chewing。　〃Better　set　guards　〃　he　said；　〃them　broncho　Apaches　might　want　to　collect　some　horses。〃
　Buck　Bayless　retired　to　his　blankets　vastly　satisfied。　What　he　wanted　was　less　alkali　and　more　beer。　To　hell　with　Jordan！
　Before　daybreak　Trace　Jordan　crawled　from　his　blankets　into　the　pre…dawn　chill。　He　slung　his　gun　belts　across　his　hips；　then　pulled　on　his　boots。　The　fire　had　died　to　thin　gray　ashes；　so　he　gathered　a　few　dried　leaves　from　under　the　trees　and　some　dried…out　branches　of　the　curl…leaf；　which　makes　no　smoke。
　Maria　Cristina　lay　huddled　in　her　blankets　where　he　had　last　seen　her；　so　he　broke　sticks　quietly　and　fed　them　into　the　flames。　He　dipped　water　from　the　lake　and　placed　the　coffee　pot　on　a　stone　by　the　fire　to　grow　hot。
　This　place　was　well　hidden。　It　was　surrounded　by　a　Jungle　of　cholla；　sometimes　called　jumping　cactus；　one　of　the　most　vicious　of　all　the　desert's　plants。　There　were　cat…claw；　organ　pipe　and　a　few　barrel　cacti。
　Finding　a　way　through　the　maze　would　not　be　easy。　He　had　stumbled　upon　it　himself　and　even　that　trail　had　been　difficult　to　follow。
　When　breakfast　was　ready　he　went　to　her　and　bent　over　to　awaken　her；　yet　even　as　he　stooped；　her　eyes　opened　suddenly；　dark　and　beautiful；　ringed　with　black　lashes。　Her　expression　was；　at　that　moment；　unreadable。　He　started　to　reach　for　her；　then　drew　back。　〃Got　some　coffee　ready；〃　he　said。
　Their　eyes　held　for　a　long　moment　and　then　she　said；　〃All　right。　I　e。〃
　Birds　whistled　and　talked　in　the　brush　and　the　morning　air　was　fresh　and　cool。　He　could　smell　the　faint　scent　of　ironwood　in　bloom　but　doubted　his　senses；　for　the　season　was　late。　Yet　many　desert　plants　bloomed　according　to　rainfall　and　with　small　regard　for　seasons。
　Maria　Cristina　came　to　the　fire　and　accepted　coffee　from　him。　Her　face　was　somber；　and　she　stood；　feet　apart；　holding　the　cup　in　both　hands。　〃It　is　quiet；〃　she　said　suddenly。　〃Yes　。。。　I　like　it　here。〃
　She　drank　her　coffee；　then　ate。　He　gathered　more　firewood　and　then　walked　back　up　the　trail　to　study　the　approaches　by　daylight。　Only　two　or　three　places　offered　access　to　the　water　and　all　were　in　full　view　of　their　camp　site。
　From　the　top　of　the　knoll　he　studied　the　surroundings。　There　was　a　nearby　mesa　that　offered　danger　but　few　approaches　through　the　cactus　barrier。　At　the　top　of　the　knoll　in　a　place　he　could　work　without　being　seen　he　assembled　a　few　rocks　into　a　low　barrier。
　There　was　grass　for　the　horse　and　they　had　food　for　several　days。　They　could　wait
　Maria　Cristina　had　washed　their　few　dishes　and　had　hot　water　on　when　he　returned。　She　was　putting　creosote　leaves　into　the　water　and　when　they　had　steeped　for　some　time　she　bathed　her　bruised　face　in　the　water。
　All　day　long　they　rested；　sleeping　much　of　the　time。　Occasionally；　from　the　top　of　the　knoll；　Jordan　made　a　reconnaissance　of　the　country　around；　always　keeping　himself　under　cover。　He　could　see　but　a　short　distance　and　in　that　distance　there　was　nothing　alive　but　the　birds；　who　seemed　very　busy　among　the　cacti。　Without　doubt　the　Sutton…Bayless　riders　were　somewhere　around。　By　this　time　they　should　be　closing　in。　The　thought　increased　his　restlessness　but　there　would　be　nowhere　that　would　offer　them　more　than　they　had　at　present。
　Maria　Cristina　bathed　her　bruised　face　several　times　and　in　the　late　afternoon　went　into　the　thicket　to　find　herbs　that　could　be　eaten　to　fill　out　their　slender　supply　of　food。
　At　dusk　Trace　Jordan　took　his　Winchester　and　worked　his　way　to　the　top　of　the　mesa　where　he　sat　for　a　long　time；　studying　the　country。　From　there　he　could　see　for　miles　in　all　directions；　yet　it　was　not　until　he　started　to　get　up　to　return　that　he　caught　sight　of　the　distant　spot　of　red。
　Far　beyond　the　limits　of　the　cholla　forest；　it　was　without　doubt　a　campfire。　And　it　would　be　ten　or　twelve　miles　away。　Catching　the　last　of　the　fading　light；　he　worked　his　way　back　down　the　mesa　to　the　oasis。
　〃They're　out　there；〃　he　said。
　〃We　stay？〃
　〃If　we　don't　move　we　won't　make　tracks。〃
　They　did　not　have　to　worry　about　their　own　fire。　He　knew　the　distance　a　blaze　can　be　seen　at　night　but　their　own　camp　was　so　deep　in　the　canyon　and　so　well　surrounded　by　trees　and　brush　that　it　could　not　be　seen　fifty　yards　off。　Their　best　chance　was　to　sit　tight
　She　sat　close　by　the　fire；　its　light　touching　her　somber　face。　Some　of　the　swelling　had　gone　and　the　bruises　were　changing　color。　Yet　now　she　looked　remote；　lonely。
　〃What　will　you　do？〃　he　asked　suddenly。　〃You　cannot　go　back。〃
　She　shrugged。
　〃Stay　with　me。〃
　She　looked　up；　her　eyes　flashing；　almost　angry。　〃With　you？　For　why？　Why　I　go　with　you？〃
　〃You're　my　woman；　Maria　Cristina。〃
　〃I　am　nobody's　woman。〃
　〃You're　my　woman。　Get　used　to　the　idea。〃
　She　glared　at　him；　then　said　contemptuously；　〃For　why　am　I　your　woman？　Because　I　help　you？　I　do　it　for　a　dog。　All　right　。。。　I　am　in　trouble。　They　hate　me。　I　hate　them　too。〃
　〃I'm　not　going　to　let　you　go；　Maria。〃
　〃You　have　nothing　to　say　if　I　go　or　stay。〃
　He　got　his　bed　roll　and　opened　it　out　near　the　fire。　He　stretched　out；　leaning　on　one　elbow。　He　fed　small　sticks　into　the　fire　and　tried　to　find　words　to　say　what　was　in　his　mind。
　She　could　never　go　back　now　and　because　of　him。　Because　of　him　she　was　lost　to　her　family　and　yet　he　knew　it　was　no　sense　of　obligation　that　made　him　feel　as　he　did。
　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　he　had　talked　to　women　and　words　did　not　e　easily　to　him　and　yet　he　knew；　desperately；　that　he　must　find　words　to　reach　this　woman。　He　must　make　her　realize　that　he　loved　her；　that　he　really　wanted　her。　He　thought　of　many　things　to　say　but　they　found　no　s