to the last man-第55节

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never　thought　of　them　being　so　far　west；　more　than　twenty　miles　from
Chevelon　Canyon。　　His　roving　eyes　could　not　descry　any　herders　or　dogs。
But　he　knew　there　must　be　dogs　close　to　that　immense　flock。　　And；
whatever　his　cunning；　he　could　not　hope　to　elude　the　scent　and　sight
of　shepherd　dogs。　　It　would　be　best　to　go　back　the　way　he　bad　come；
wait　for　darkness；　then　cross　the　canyon　and　climb　out；　and　work　around
to　his　objective　point。　　Turning　at　once；　he　started　to　glide　back。
But　almost　immediately　he　was　brought　stock…still　and　thrilling　by
the　sound　of　hoofs。

Horses　were　coming　in　the　direction　he　wished　to　take。　　They　were　close。
His　swift　conclusion　was　that　the　men　who　had　pursued　him　up　on　the　Rim
had　worked　down　into　the　canyon。　　One　circling　glance　showed　him　that
he　had　no　sure　covert　near　at　hand。　　It　would　not　do　to　risk　their
passing　him　there。　　The　border　of　woodland　was　narrow　and　not　dense
enough　for　close　inspection。　　He　was　forced　to　turn　back　up　the　canyon；
in　the　hope　of　soon　finding　a　hiding　place　or　a　break　in　the　wall　where
be　could　climb　up。

Hugging　the　base　of　the　wall；　he　slipped　on；　passing　the　point　where
he　had　espied　the　sheep；　and　gliding　on　until　he　was　stopped　by　a　bend
in　the　dense　line　of　willows。　　It　sheered　to　the　west　there　and　ran
close　to　the　high　wall。　　Jean　kept　on　until　he　was　stooping　under　a　
curling　border　of　willow　thicket；　with　branches　slim　and　yellow　and
masses　of　green　foliage　that　brushed　against　the　wall。　　Suddenly　he
encountered　an　abrupt　corner　of　rock。　　He　rounded　it；　to　discover　that
it　ran　at　right　angles　with　the　one　he　had　just　passed。　　Peering　up
through　the　willows；　he　ascertained　that　there　was　a　narrow　crack　in
the　main　wall　of　the　canyon。　　It　had　been　concealed　by　willows　low　down
and　leaning　spruces　above。　　A　wild；　hidden　retreat！　　Along　the　base　of
the　wall　there　were　tracks　of　small　animals。　　The　place　was　odorous；
like　all　dense　thickets；　but　it　was　not　dry。　　Water　ran　through　there
somewhere。　　Jean　drew　easier　breath。　　All　sounds　except　the　rustling　of
birds　or　mice　in　the　willows　had　ceased。　　The　brake　was　pervaded　by　a
dreamy　emptiness。　　Jean　decided　to　steal　on　a　little　farther；　then　wait
till　he　felt　he　might　safely　dare　go　back。

The　golden…green　gloom　suddenly　brightened。　　Light　showed　ahead；　and
parting　the　willows；　he　looked　out　into　a　narrow；　winding　canyon；
with　an　open；　grassy；　willow…streaked　lane　in　the　center　and　on
each　side　a　thin　strip　of　woodland。

His　surprise　was　short　lived。　　A　crashing　of　horses　back　of　him　in　the
willows　gave　him　a　shock。　　He　ran　out　along　the　base　of　the　wall；　back
of　the　trees。　　Like　the　strip　of　woodland　in　the　main　canyon；　this　one
was　scant　and　had　but　little　underbrush。　　There　were　young　spruces
growing　with　thick　branches　clear　to　the　grass；　and　under　these　he
could　have　concealed　himself。　　But；　with　a　certainty　of　sheep　dogs
in　the　vicinity；　he　would　not　think　of　hiding　except　as　a　last　resource。
These　horsemen；　whoever　they　were；　were　as　likely　to　be　sheep　herders
as　not。　　Jean　slackened　his　pace　to　look　back。　　He　could　not　see　any
moving　objects；　but　he　still　heard　horses；　though　not　so　close　now。
Ahead　of　him　this　narrow　gorge　opened　out　like　the　neck　of　a　bottle。
He　would　run　on　to　the　head　of　it　and　find　a　place　to　climb　to　the　top。

Hurried　and　anxious　as　Jean　was；　he　yet　received　an　impression　of
singular；　wild　nature　of　this　side　gorge。　　It　was　a　hidden；　pine…fringed
crack　in　the　rock…ribbed　and　canyon…cut　tableland。　　Above　him　the　sky
seemed　a　winding　stream　of　blue。　　The　walls　were　red　and　bulged　out　in
spruce…greened　shelves。　　From　wall　to　wall　was　scarcely　a　distance　of　a
hundred　feet。　　Jumbles　of　rock　obstructed　his　close　holding　to　the　wall。
He　had　to　walk　at　the　edge　of　the　timber。　　As　he　progressed；　the　gorge
widened　into　wilder；　ruggeder　aspect。　　Through　the　trees　ahead　he　saw
where　the　wall　circled　to　meet　the　cliff　on　the　left；　forming　an　oval　
depression；　the　nature　of　which　he　could　not　ascertain。　　But　it　appeared
to　be　a　small　opening　surrounded　by　dense　thickets　and　the　overhanging
walls。　　Anxiety　augmented　to　alarm。　　He　might　not　be　able　to　find　a
place　to　scale　those　rough　cliffs。　　Breathing　hard；　Jean　halted　again。
The　situation　was　growing　critical　again。　　His　physical　condition　was
worse。　　Loss　of　sleep　and　rest；　lack　of　food；　the　long　pursuit　of　Queen；
the　wound　in　his　arm；　and　the　desperate　run　for　his　lifethese　had
weakened　him　to　the　extent　that　if　he　undertook　any　strenuous　effort
he　would　fail。　　His　cunning　weighed　all　chances。

The　shade　of　wall　and　foliage　above；　and　another　jumble　of　ruined　cliff；
hindered　his　survey　of　the　ground　ahead；　and　he　almost　stumbled　upon　a
cabin；　hidden　on　three　sides；　with　a　small；　bare　clearing　in　front。
It　was　an　old；　ramshackle　structure　like　others　he　had　run　across　in
the　canons。　　Cautiously　he　approached　and　peeped　around　the　corner。
At　first　swift　glance　it　had　all　the　appearance　of　long　disuse。　　But
Jean　had　no　time　for　another　look。　　A　clip…clop　of　trotting　horses　on
hard　ground　brought　the　same　pell…mell　rush　of　sensations　that　had
driven　him　to　wild　flight　scarcely　an　hour　past。　　His　body　jerked　with
its　instinctive　impulse；　then　quivered　with　his　restraint。　　To　turn
back　would　be　risky；　to　run　ahead　would　be　fatal；　to　hide　was　his　one
hope。　　No　covert　behind！　　And　the　clip…clop　of　hoofs　sounded　closer。　
One　moment　longer　Jean　held　mastery　over　his　instincts　of
self…preservation。　　To　keep　from　running　was　almost　impossible。
It　was　the　sheer　primitive　animal　sense　to　escape。　　He　drove　it　back
and　glided　along　the　front　of　the　cabin。

Here　he　saw　that　the　cabin　adjoined　another。　　Reaching　the　door；　he
was　about　to　peep　in　when　the　thud　of　hoofs　and　voices　close　at　hand
transfixed　him　with　a　grim　certainty　that　he　had　not　an　instant　to　lose。
Through　the　thin；　black…streaked　line　of　trees　he　saw　moving　red　objects。
Horses！　　He　must　run。　　Passing　the　door；　his　keen　nose　caught　a　musty；
woody　odor　and　the　tail　of　his　eye　saw　bare　dirt　floor。　　This　cabin
was　unused。　　He　halted…gave　a　quick　look　back。　　And　the　first　thing
his　eye　fell　upon　was　a　ladder；　right　inside　the　door；　against　the　wall。
He　looked　up。　　It　led　to　a　loft　that；　dark　and　gloomy；　stretched　halfway
across　the　cabin。　　An　irresistible　impulse　drove　Jean。　　Slipping　inside；
he　climbed　up　the　ladder　to　the　loft。　　It　was　like　night　up　there。　　But
he　crawled　on　the　rough…hewn　rafters　and；　turning　with　his　head　toward
the　opening；　he　stretched　out　and　lay　still。

What　seemed　an　interminable　moment　ended　with　a　trample　of　hoofs　outside
the　cabin。　　It　ceased。　　Jean's　vibrating　ears　caught　the　jingle　of　spurs
and　a　thud　of　boots　striking　the　ground。

〃Wal；　sweetheart；　heah　we　are　home　again；〃　drawled　a　slow；　cool；
mocking　Texas　voice。

〃Home！　　I　wonder；　Colterdid　y'u　ever　have　a　homea　mothera　sister
much　less　a　sweetheart？〃　was　the　reply；　bitter　and　caustic。

Jean's　palpitating；　hot body　suddenly　stretched　still　and　cold　with
intensity　of　shock。　　His　very　bones　seemed　to　quiver　and　stiffen　into　ice。
During　the　instant　of　realization　his　heart　stopped。　　And　a　slow；
contracting　pressure　enveloped　his　breast　and　moved　up　to　constrict
his　throat。　　　That　woman's　voice　belonged　to　Ellen　Jorth。　　The　sound
of　it　had　lingered　in　his　dreams。　　He　had　stumbled　upon　the　rendezvous
of　the　Jorth　faction。　　Hard　indeed　had　been　the　fates　meted　out　to　those
of　the　Isbels　and　Jorths　who　had　passed　to　their　deaths。　　But；　no　ordeal；
not　even　Queen's；　could　compare　with　this　desperate　one　Jean　must　endure。
He　had　loved　Ellen　Jorth；　strangely；　wonderfully；　and　he　had　scorned
repute　to　believe　her　good。　　He　had　spared　her　father　and　her　uncle。
He　had　weakened　or　lost　the　cause　of　the　Isbels。　　He　loved　her　now；
desperately；　deathlessly；　knowing　from　her　own　lips　that　she　was
worthlessloved　her　the　more　because　he　had　felt　her　terrible　shame。
And　to　himthe　last　of　the　Isbelshad　come　the　cruelest　of　dooms
to　be　caught　like　a　crippled　rat　in　a　trap；　to　be　compelled　to　lie
helpless；　wounded；　without　a　gun；　to　listen；　and　perhaps　to　see　Ellen
Jorth　enact　the　very　truth　of　her　mocking　insinuation。　　His　will；
his　promise；　his　creed；　his　blood　must　hold　him　to　the　stem　decree
that　he　should　be　the　last　man　of　the　Jorth…Isbel　war。　　But　could　he
lie　there　to　hearto　seewhen　he　had　a　knife　and　an　arm？



CHAPTER　XIV

Then　followed　the　leathery　flop　of　saddles　to　the　soft　turf　and　the
stamp；　of　loosened　horses。

Jean　heard　a　noise　at　the　cabin　door；　a　rustle；　and　then　a　knock　of
something　hard　against　wood。　　Silently　he　moved　his　head　to　look　down
through　a　crack　between　the　rafters。　　He　saw　the　glint　of　a　rifle
leaning　against　the　sill。　　Then　the　doorstep　was　darkened。　　Ellen　Jorth
sat　down　with　a　long；　tired　sigh。　　She　took　off　her　sombrero　and　the
light　shone　on　the　rippling；　dark…brown　hair；　hanging　in　a　tangled　braid。
The　curved　nape　of　her　neck　showed　a　warm　tint　of　golden　tan。　　She　wore
a　gray　blouse；　soiled　and　torn；　that　clung　to　her　lissome　shoulders。

〃Colter；　what　are　y'u　goin'　to　do？〃　she　asked；　suddenly。　　Her　voice
carried　something　Jean　did　not　remember。　　It　thrilled