wildfire-第11节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


to　Lin　Slone。　He　gazed　at　them　for　a　long　time；　and　then　he　looked　across　the
dotted　red　valley　up　the　vast　ridgy　steps；　toward　the　black　plateau　and
beyond。　It　was　the　look　that　an　Indian　gives　to　a　strange　country。　Then　Slone
slipped　off　the　saddle　and　knelt　to　scrutinize　the　horse　tracks。　A　little　sand
had　blown　into　the　depressions；　and　some　of　it　was　wet　and　some　of　it　was　dry。
He　took　his　time　about　examining　it；　and　he　even　tried　gently　blowing　other
sand　into　the　tracks；　to　compare　that　with　what　was　already　there。　Finally　he
stood　up　and　addressed　Nagger。

〃Reckon　we　won't　have　to　argue　with　Abe　an'　Bill　this　mornin'；〃　he　said；　with
satisfaction。　〃Wildfire　made　that　track　yesterday；　before　sun…up。　

Thereupon　Slone　remounted　and　put　Nagger　to　a　trot。　The　pack…horse　followed
with　an　alacrity　that　showed　he　had　no　desire　for　loneliness。

As　straight　as　a　bee…line　Wildfire　had　left　a　trail　down　into　the　floor　of　the
valley。　He　had　not　stopped　to　graze；　and　he　had　not　looked　for　water。　Slone
had　hoped　to　find　a　water…hole　in　one　of　the　deep　washes　in　the　red　earth；　but
if　there　had　been　any　water　there　Wildfire　would　have　scented　it。　He　had　not
had　a　drink　for　three　days　that　Slone　knew　of。　And　Nagger　had　not　drunk　for
forty　hours。　Slone　had　a　canvas　water…bag　hanging　over　the　pommel；　but　it　was
a　habit　of　his　to　deny　himself；　as　far　as　possible；　till　his　horse　could　drink
also。　Like　an　Indian；　Slone　ate　and　drank　but　little。

It　took　four　hours　of　steady　trotting　to　reach　the　middle　and　bottom　of　that
wide；　flat　valley。　A　network　of　washes　cut　up　the　whole　center　of　it；　and　they
were　all　as　dry　as　bleached　bone。　To　cross　these　Slone　had　only　to　keep
Wildfire's　trail。　And　it　was　proof　of　Nagger's　quality　that　he　did　not　have　to
veer　from　the　stallion's　course。

It　was　hot　down　in　the　lowland。　The　heat　struck　up；　reflected　from　the　sand。
But　it　was　a　March　sun；　and　no　more　than　pleasant　to　Slone。　The　wind　rose；
however；　and　blew　dust　and　sand　in　the　faces　of　horse　and　rider。　Except
lizards；　Slone　did　not　see　any　living　things。

Miles　of　low　greasewood　and　sparse　yellow　sage　led　to　the　first　almost
imperceptible　rise　of　the　valley　floor　on　that　side。　The　distant　cedars
beckoned　to　Slone。　He　was　not　patient；　because　he　was　on　the　trail　of
Wildfire；　but；　nevertheless。　the　hours　seemed　short。

Slone　had　no　past　to　think　about；　and　the　future　held　nothing　except　a　horse；
and　so　his　thoughts　revolved　the　possibilities　connected　with　this　chase　of
Wildfire。　The　chase　was　hopeless　in　such　country　as　he　was　traversing；　and　if
Wildfire　chose　to　roam　around　valleys　like　this　one　Slone　would　fail　utterly。
But　the　stallion　had　long　ago　left　his　band　of　horses；　and　then；　one　by　one
his　favorite　consorts；　and　now　he　was　alone；　headed　with　unerring　instinct　for
wild；　untrammeled　ranges。　He　had　been　used　to　the　pure；　cold　water　and　the
succulent　grass　of　the　cold　desert　uplands。　Assuredly　he　would　not　tarry　in
such　barren　lands　as　these。

For　Slone　an　ever…present　and　growing　fascination　lay　in　Wildfire's　clear；
sharply　defined　tracks。　It　was　as　if　every　hoof…mark　told　him　something。　Once；
far　up　the　interminable　ascent；　he　found　on　a　ridge…top　tracks　showing　where
Wildfire　had　halted　and　turned。

〃Ha；　Nagger！〃　cried　Slone；　exultingly。　〃Look　there！　He's　begun　facin'　about。
He's　wonderin'　if　we're　still　after　him。　He's　worried。　。　。　。　But　we'll　keep
out　of　sighta　day　behind。〃

When　Slone　reached　the　cedars　the　sun　was　low　down　in　the　west。　He　looked　back
across　the　fifty　miles　of　valley　to　the　colored　cliffs　and　walls。　He　seemed　to
be　above　them　now；　and　the　cool　air；　with　tang　of　cedar　and　juniper；
strengthened　the　impression　that　he　had　climbed　high。

A　mile　or　more　ahead　of　him　rose　a　gray　cliff　with　breaks　in　it　and　a　line　of
dark　cedars　or　pinyons　on　the　level　rims。　He　believed　these　breaks　to　be　the
mouths　of　canyons；　and　so　it　turned　out。　Wildfire's　trail　led　into　the　mouth
of　a　narrow　canyon　with　very　steep　and　high　walls。　Nagger　snorted　his
perception　of　water；　and　the　mustang　whistled。　Wildfire's　tracks　led　to　a
point　under　the　wall　where　a　spring　gushed　forth。　There　were　mountain…lion　and
deer　tracks　also；　as　well　as　those　of　smaller　game。

Slone　made　camp　here。　The　mustang　was　tired。　But　Nagger；　upon　taking　a　long
drink；　rolled　in　the　grass　as　if　he　had　just　begun　the　trip。　After　eating；
Slone　took　his　rifle　and　went　out　to　look　for　deer。　But　there　appeared　to　be
none　at　hand。　He　came　across　many　lion　tracks　and　saw；　with　apprehension；
where　one　had　taken　Wildfire's　trail。　Wildfire　had　grazed　up　the　canyon；
keeping　on　and　on；　and　he　was　likely　to　go　miles　in　a　night。　Slone　reflected
that　as　small　as　were　his　own　chances　of　getting　Wildfire；　they　were　still
better　than　those　of　a　mountain…lion。　Wildfire　was　the　most　cunning　of　all
animalsa　wild　stallion；　his　speed　and　endurance　were　incomparable；　his　scent
as　keen　as　those　animals　that　relied　wholly　upon　scent　to　warn　them　of　danger；
and　as　for　sight；　it　was　Slone's　belief　that　no　hoofed　creature；　except　the
mountain…sheep　used　to　high　altitudes；　could　see　as　far　as　a　wild　horse。

It　bothered　Slone　a　little　that　he　was　getting　into　a　lion　country。　Nagger
showed　nervousness；　something　unusual　for　him。　Slone　tied　both　horses　with
long　halters　and　stationed　them　on　patches　of　thick　grass。　Then　he　put　a　cedar
stump　on　the　fire　and　went　to　sleep。　Upon　awakening　and　going　to　the　spring　he
was　somewhat　chagrined　to　see　that　deer　had　come　down　to　drink　early。
Evidently　they　were　numerous。　A　lion　country　was　always　a　deer　country；　for
the　lions　followed　the　deer。

Slone　was　packed　and　saddled　and　on　his　way　before　the　sun　reddened　the　canyon
wall。　He　walked　the　horses。　From　time　to　time　he　saw　signs　of　Wildfire's
consistent　progress。　The　canyon　narrowed　and　the　walls　grew　lower　and　the
grass　increased。　There　was　a　decided　ascent　all　the　time。　Slone　could　find　no
evidence　that　the　canyon　had　ever　been　traveled　by　hunters　or　Indians。　The　day
was　pleasant　and　warm　and　still。　Every　once　in　a　while　a　little　breath　of　wind
would　bring　a　fragrance　of　cedar　and　pinyon；　and　a　sweet　hint　of　pine　and
sage。　At　every　turn　he　looked　ahead；　expecting　to　see　the　green　of　pine　and
the　gray　of　sage。　Toward　the　middle　of　the　afternoon；　coming　to　a　place　where
Wildfire　had　taken　to　a　trot；　he　put　Nagger　to　that　gait；　and　by　sundown　had
worked　up　to　where　the　canyon　was　only　a　shallow　ravine。　And　finally　it　turned
once　more；　to　lose　itself　in　a　level　where　straggling　pines　stood　high　above
the　cedars；　and　great；　dark…green　silver　spruces　stood　above　the　pines。　And
here　were　patches　of　sage；　fresh　and　pungent；　and　long　reaches　of　bleached
grass。　It　was　the　edge　of　a　forest。　Wildfire's　trail　went　on。　Slone　came　at
length　to　a　group　of　pines；　and　here　he　found　the　remains　of　a　camp…fire；　and
some　flint　arrow…heads。　Indians　had　been　in　there；　probably　having　come　from
the　opposite　direction　to　Slone's。　This　encouraged　him；　for　where　Indians
could　hunt　so　could　he。　Soon　he　was　entering　a　forest　where　cedars　and　pinyons
and　pines　began　to　grow　thickly。　Presently　he　came　upon　a　faintly　defined
trail；　just　a　dim；　dark　line　even　to　an　experienced　eye。　But　it　was　a　trail；
and　Wildfire　had　taken　it。

Slone　halted　for　the　night。　The　air　was　cold。　And　the　dampness　of　it　gave　him
an　idea　there　were　snow…banks　somewhere　not　far　distant。　The　dew　was　already
heavy　on　the　grass。　He　hobbled　the　horses　and　put　a　bell　on　Nagger。　A　bell
might　frighten　lions　that　had　never　heard　one。　Then　he　built　a　fire　and　cooked
his　meal。

It　had　been　long　since　he　had　camped　high　up　among　the　pines。　The　sough　of　the
wind　pleased　him；　like　music。　There　had　begun　to　be　prospects　of　pleasant
experience　along　with　the　toil　of　chasing　Wildfire。　He　was　entering　new　and
strange　and　beautiful　country。　How　far　might　the　chase　take　him？　He　did　not
care。　He　was　not　sleepy；　but　even　if　he　had　been　it　developed　that　he　must
wait　till　the　coyotes　ceased　their　barking　round　his　camp…fire。　They　came　so
close　that　he　saw　their　gray　shadows　in　the　gloom。　But　presently　they　wearied
of　yelping　at　him　and　went　away。　After　that　the　silence；　broken　only　by　the
wind　as　it　roared　and　lulled；　seemed　beautiful　to　Slone。　He　lost　completely
that　sense　of　vague　regret　which　had　remained　with　him；　and　he　forgot　the
Stewarts。　And　suddenly　he　felt　absolutely　free；　alone；　with　nothing　behind　to
remember；　with　wild；　thrilling；　nameless　life　before　him。　Just　then　the　long
mourn　of　a　timber　wolf　wailed　in　with　the　wind。　Seldom　had　he　heard　the　cry　of
one　of　those　night　wanderers。　There　was　nothing　like　itno　sound　like　it　to
fix　in　the　lone　camper's　heart　the　great　solitude　and　the　wild。



CHAPTER　V

In　the　early　morning　when　all　was　gray　and　the　big；　dark　pines　were　shadowy
specters；　Slone　was　awakened　by　the　cold。　His　hands　were　so　numb　that　he　had
difficulty　starting　a　fire。　He　stood　over　the　blaze；　warming　them。　The　air　was
nipping；　clear　and　thin；　and　sweet　with　frosty　fragrance。

Daylight　came　while　he　was　in　the　midst　of　his　morning　meal。　A　white　frost
covered　the　ground　and　crackled　under　his　feet　as　he　went　out　to　bring　in　the
horses。　He