to the last man-第29节

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Isbel's　supporters　offered　the　same　advice。

〃No；　we'll　wait　till　we　know　for　shore；〃　was　the　stubborn　cattleman's
reply　to　all　these　promptings。

〃Know！　　Wal；　hell！　　Didn't　Jean　find　the　black　hoss　up　at　Jorth's　ranch？〃
demanded　Blaisdell。　　〃What　more　do　we　want？〃

〃Jean　couldn't　swear　Jorth　stole　the　black。〃

〃Wal；　by　thunder；　I　can　swear　to　it！〃　growled　Blaisdell。　　〃An'　we're
losin'　cattle　all　the　time。　　Who's　stealin'　'em？〃

〃We've　always　lost　cattle　ever　since　we　started　ranchin'　heah。〃

〃Gas；　I　reckon　yu　want　Jorth　to　start　this　fight　in　the　open。〃

〃It'll　start　soon　enough；〃　was　Isbel's　gloomy　reply。

Jean　had　not　failed　altogether　in　his　tracking　of　lost　or　stolen　cattle。
Circumstances　had　been　against　him；　and　there　was　something　baffling
about　this　rustling。　　The　summer　storms　set　in　early；　and　it　had　been
his　luck　to　have　heavy　rains　wash　out　fresh　tracks　that　he　might　have
followed。　　The　range　was　large　and　cattle　were　everywhere。　　Sometimes
a　loss　was　not　discovered　for　weeks。　　Gaston　Isbel's　sons　were　now　the
only　men　left　to　ride　the　range。　　Two　of　his　riders　had　quit　because　of
the　threatened　war；　and　Isbel　had　let　another　go。　　So　that　Jean　did　not
often　learn　that　cattle　had　been　stolen　until　their　tracks　were　old。
Added　to　that　was　the　fact　that　this　Grass　Valley　country　was　covered
with　horse　tracks　and　cattle　tracks。　　The　rustlers；　whoever　they　were；
had　long　been　at　the　game；　and　now　that　there　was　reason　for　them　to
show　their　cunning　they　did　it。

Early　in　July　the　hot　weather　came。　　Down　on　the　red　ridges　of　the
Tonto　it　was　hot　desert。　　The　nights　were　cool；　the　early　mornings
were　pleasant；　but　the　day　was　something　to　endure。　　When　the　white
cumulus　clouds　rolled　up　out　of　the　southwest；　growing　larger　and
thicker　and　darker；　here　and　there　coalescing　into　a　black　thundercloud；
Jean　welcomed　them。　　He　liked　to　see　the　gray　streamers　of　rain　hanging
down　from　a　canopy　of　black；　and　the　roar　of　rain　on　the　trees　as　it
approached　like　a　trampling　army　was　always　welcome。　　The　grassy　flats；
the　red　ridges；　the　rocky　slopes；　the　thickets　of　manzanita　and　scrub
oak　and　cactus　were　dusty；　glaring；　throat…parching　places　under　the
hot　summer　sun。　　Jean　longed　for　the　cool　heights　of　the　Rim；　the　shady
pines；　the　dark　sweet　verdure　under　the　silver　spruces；　the　tinkle　and
murmur　of　the　clear　rills。　　He　often　had　another　longing；　too；　which
he　bitterly　stifled。

Jean's　ally；　the　keen…nosed　shepherd　clog；　had　disappeared　one　day；
and　had　never　returned。　　Among　men　at　the　ranch　there　was　a　difference
of　opinion　as　to　what　had　happened　to　Shepp。　　The　old　rancher　thought
he　had　been　poisoned　or　shot；　Bill　and　Guy　Isbel　believed　he　had　been
stolen　by　sheep　herders；　who　were　always　stealing　dogs；　and　Jean
inclined　to　the　conviction　that　Shepp　had　gone　off　with　the　timber
wolves。　　The　fact　was　that　Shepp　did　not　return；　and　Jean　missed　him。

One　morning　at　dawn　Jean　heard　the　cattle　bellowing　and　trampling　out
in　the　valley；　and　upon　hurrying　to　a　vantage　point　he　was　amazed　to
see　upward　of　five　hundred　steers　chasing　a　lone　wolf。　　Jean's　father
had　seen　such　a　spectacle　as　this；　but　it　was　a　new　one　for　Jean。　　The
wolf　was　a　big　gray　and　black　fellow；　rangy　and　powerful；　and　until　he
got　the　steers　all　behind　him　he　was　rather　hard　put　to　it　to　keep　out
of　their　way。　　Probably　he　had　dogged　the　herd；　trying　to　sneak　in
and　pull　down　a　yearling；　and　finally　the　steers　had　charged　him。
Jean　kept　along　the　edge　of　the　valley　in　the　hope　they　would　chase
him　within　range　of　a　rifle。　　But　the　wary　wolf　saw　Jean　and　sheered
off；　gradually　drawing　away　from　his　pursuers。

Jean　returned　to　the　house　for　his　breakfast；　and　then　set　off　across
the　valley。　　His　father　owned　one　small　flock　of　sheep　that　had　not
yet　been　driven　up　on　the　Rim；　where　all　the　sheep　in　the　country
were　run　during　the　hot；　dry　summer　down　on　the　Tonto。　　Young　Evarts
and　a　Mexican　boy　named　Bernardino　had　charge　of　this　flock。　　The
regular　Mexican　herder；　a　man　of　experience；　had　given　up　his　job；　
and　these　boys　were　not　equal　to　the　task　of　risking　the　sheep　up
in　the　enemies'　stronghold。

This　flock　was　known　to　be　grazing　in　a　side　draw；　well　up　from
Grass　Valley；　where　the　brush　afforded　some　protection　from　the　sun；
and　there　was　good　water　and　a　little　feed。　　Before　Jean　reached　his
destination　he　heard　a　shot。　　It　was　not　a　rifle　shot；　which　fact
caused　Jean　a　little　concern。　　Evarts　and　Bernardino　had　rifles；
but；　to　his　knowledge；　no　small　arms。　　Jean　rode　up　on　one　of　the
black…brushed　conical　hills　that　rose　on　the　south　side　of　Grass　Valley；
and　from　there　he　took　a　sharp　survey　of　the　country。　　At　first　he　made
out　only　cattle；　and　bare　meadowland；　and　the　low　encircling　ridges　and
hills。　　But　presently　up　toward　the　head　of　the　valley　he　descried　a
bunch　of　horsemen　riding　toward　the　village。　　He　could　not　tell　their
number。　　That　dark　moving　mass　seemed　to　Jean　to　be　instinct　with　life；
mystery；　menace。　　Who　were　they？　　It　was　too　far　for　him　to　recognize
horses；　let　alone　riders。　　They　were　moving　fast；　too。

Jean　watched　them　out　of　sight；　then　turned　his　horse　downhill　again；
and　rode　on　his　quest。　　A　number　of　horsemen　like　that　was　a　very
unusual　sight　around　Grass　Valley　at　any　time。　　What　then　did　it　portend
now？　　Jean　experienced　a　little　shock　of　uneasy　dread　that　was　a　new
sensation　for　him。　　Brooding　over　this　he　proceeded　on　his　way；　at
length　to　turn　into　the　draw　where　the　camp　of　the　sheep…herders　was
located。　　Upon　coming　in　sight　of　it　he　heard　a　hoarse　shout。　　Young
Evarts　appeared　running　frantically　out　of　the　brush。　　Jean　urged　his
horse　into　a　run　and　soon　covered　the　distance　between　them。　　Evarts
appeared　beside　himself　with　terror。

〃Boy！　what's　the　matter？〃　queried　Jean；　as　he　dismounted；　rifle　in　hand；
peering　quickly　from　Evarts's　white　face　to　the　camp；　and　all　around。

〃Ber…nardino！　　Ber…nardino！〃　gasped　the　boy；　wringing　his　hands　and
pointing。

Jean　ran　the　few　remaining　rods　to　the　sheep　camp。　　He　saw　the　little
teepee；　a　burned…out　fire；　a　half…finished　mealand　then　the　Mexican
lad　lying　prone　on　the　ground；　dead；　with　a　bullet　hole　in　his　ghastly
face。　　Near　him　lay　an　old　six…shooter。

〃Whose　gun　is　that？〃　demanded　Jean；　as　he　picked　it　up。

〃Ber…nardino's；〃　replied　Evarts；　huskily。　〃Hehe　jest　got　itthe
other　day。〃

〃Did　he　shoot　himself　accidentally？〃

〃Oh　no！　　No！　　He　didn't　do　itatall。〃

〃Who　did；　then？〃

〃The　menthey　rode　upa　gang…they　did　it；〃　panted　Evarts。

〃Did　you　know　who　they　were？〃

〃No。　I　couldn't　tell。　　I　saw　them　comin'　an'　I　was　skeered。　Bernardino
had　gone　fer　water。　　I　run　an'　hid　in　the　brush。　　I　wanted　to　yell；　but
they　come　too　close。　。　。　。　Then　I　heerd　them　talkin'。　　Bernardino　come
back。　　They　'peared　friendly…like。　　Thet　made　me　raise　up；　to　look。
An'　I　couldn't　see　good。　　I　heerd　one　of　them　ask　Bernardino　to　let　him
see　his　gun。　　An'　Bernardino　handed　it　over。　　He　looked　at　the　gun　an'
haw…hawed；　an'　flipped　it　up　in　the　air；　an'　when　it　fell　back　in　his
hand　itit　went　off　bang！　。　。　。　An'　Bernardino　dropped。　。　。　。　I　hid
down　close。　　I　was　skeered　stiff。　　I　heerd　them　talk　more；　but　not　what
they　said。　　Then　they　rode　away。　。　。　。　An'　I　hid　there　till　I　seen
y'u　comin'。〃

〃Have　you　got　a　horse？〃　queried　Jean；　sharply。

〃No。　But　I　can　ride　one　of　Bernardino's　burros。〃

〃Get　one。　　Hurry　over　to　Blaisdell。　　Tell　him　to　send　word　to　Blue　and
Gordon　and　Fredericks　to　ride　like　the　devil　to　my　father's　ranch。
Hurry　now！〃

Young　Evarts　ran　off　without　reply。　　Jean　stood　looking　down　at　the
limp　and　pathetic　figure　of　the　Mexican　boy。　　〃By　Heaven！〃　he　exclaimed；
grimly　〃the　Jorth…Isbel　war　is　on！　。　。　。　Deliberate；　cold…blooded　murder！
I'll　gamble　Daggs　did　this　job。　　He's　been　given　the　leadership。　　He's
started　it。　。　。　。　Bernardino；　greaser　or　not；　you　were　a　faithful　lad；
and　you　won't　go　long　unavenged。〃

Jean　had　no　time　to　spare。　　Tearing　a　tarpaulin　out　of　the　teepee　he
covered　the　lad　with　it　and　then　ran　for；　his　horse。　　Mounting；　he
galloped　down　the　draw；　over　the　little　red　ridges；　out　into　the　valley；
where　he　put　his　horse　to　a　run。

Action　changed　the　sickening　horror　that　sight　of　Bernardino　had
engendered。　　Jean　even　felt　a　strange；　grim　relief。　　The　long；　dragging
days　of　waiting　were　over。　　Jorth's　gang　had　taken　the　initiative。
Blood　had　begun　to　flow。　　And　it　would　continue　to　flow　now　till　the
last　man　of　one　faction　stood　over　the　dead　body　of　the　last　man　of
the　other。　　Would　it　be　a　Jorth　or　an　Isbel？　　〃My　instinct　was　right；〃
he　muttered；　aloud。　　〃That　bunch　of　horses　gave　me　a　queer　feelin'。〃
Jean　gazed　all　around　the　grassy；　cattle…dotted　valley　he　was　crossing
so　swiftly；　and　toward　the　village；　but　he　did　not　see　any　sign　of　the
dark　group　of　riders。　　They　had　gone　on　to　Greaves's　store；　there；　no
doubt；　to　drink　and　to　add　more　enemies　of　the　Isbels　to　their　gang。
Suddenly　across　Jean's　mind　flashed　a　thought　of　Ellen　Jorth。　　〃What
'll　become　of　her？　。　。　。　What　'll　become　of　all　the　women？　　My　sister？
。　。　。　The　little　ones？〃

No　one　was　in　sight　around　the　ranch。　　Never　had　it　appeared　more