wildfire-第17节

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scene。

With　keen；　slow　gaze　Slone　studied　the　lay　of　wall　and　slope；　and　when　he　had
circled　the　huge　depression　he　made　sure　that　Wildfire　could　not　get　out
except　by　the　narrow　pass　through　which　he　had　gone　in。　Slone　sat　astride
Nagger　in　the　mouth　of　this　passa　wash　a　few　yards　wide；　walled　by　broken；
rough　rock　on　one　side　and　an　insurmountable　slope　on　the　other。

〃If　this　hole　was　only　little；　now；〃　sighed　Slone；　as　he　gazed　at　the
sweeping；　shimmering　oval　floor；　〃I　might　have　a　chance。　But　down　therewe
couldn't　get　near　him。〃

There　was　no　water　in　that　dry　bowl。　Slone　reflected　on　the　uselessness　of
keeping　Wildfire　down　there；　because　Nagger　could　not　go　without　water　as　long
as　Wildfire。　For　the　first　time　Slone　hesitated。　It　seemed　merciless　to　Nagger
to　drive　him　down　into　this　hot；　windy　hole。　The　wind　blew　from　the　west；　and
it　swooped　up　the　slope；　hot；　with　the　odor　of　dry；　dead　grass。

But　that　hot　wind　stirred　Slone　with　an　idea；　and　suddenly　he　was　tense；
excited；　glowing；　yet　grim　and　hard。

〃Wildfire；　I'll　make　you　run　with　your　namesake　in　that　high　grass；〃　called
Slone。　The　speech　was　full　of　bitter　failure；　of　regret；　of　the　hardness　of　a
rider　who　could　not　give　up　the　horse　to　freedom。

Slone　meant　to　ride　down　there　and　fire　the　long　grass。　In　that　wind　there
would　indeed　be　wildfire　to　race　with　the　red　stallion。　It　would　perhaps　mean
his　death；　at　least　it　would　chase　him　out　of　that　hole；　where　to　follow　him
would　be　useless。

〃I'd　make　you　hump　now　to　get　away　if　I　could　get　behind　you；〃　muttered　Slone。
He　saw　that　if　he　could　fire　the　grass　on　the　other　side　the　wind　of　flame
would　drive　Wildfire　straight　toward　him。　The　slopes　and　walls　narrowed　up　to
the　pass；　but　high　grass　grew　to　within　a　few　rods　of　where　Slone　stood。　But
it　seemed　impossible　to　get　behind　Wildfire。

〃At　nightthenI　could　get　round　him；〃　said　Slone；　thinking　hard　and
narrowing　his　gaze　to　scan　the　circle　of　wall　and　slope。　〃Why　not？　。　。　。　No
wind　at　night。　That　grass　would　burn　slow　till　mornin'　till　the　wind　came
upan'　it's　been　west　for　days。〃

Suddenly　Slone　began　to　pound　the　patient　Nagger　and　to　cry　out　to　him　in　wild
exultance。

〃Old　horse；　we've　got　him！　。　。　。　We've　got　him！　。　。　。　We'll　put　a　rope　on　him
before　this　time　to…morrow！〃

Slone　yielded　to　his　strange；　wild　joy；　but　it　did　not　last　long；　soon
succeeding　to　sober；　keen　thought。　He　rode　down　into　the　bowl　a　mile；　making
absolutely　certain　that　Wildfire　could　not　climb　out　on　that　side。　The　far
end；　beyond　the　monuments；　was　a　sheer　wall　of　rock。　Then　he　crossed　to　the
left　side。　Here　the　sandy　slope　was　almost　too　steep　for　even　him　to　go　up。
And　there　was　grass　that　would　burn。　He　returned　to　the　pass　assured　that
Wildfire　had　at　last　fallen　into　a　trap　the　like　Slone　had　never　dreamed　of
The　great　horse　was　doomed　to　run　into　living　flame　or　the　whirling　noose　of　a
lasso。

Then　Slone　reflected。　Nagger　had　that　very　morning　had　his　fill　of　good
waterthe　first　really　satisfying　drink　for　days。　If　he　was　rested　that　day；
on　the　morrow　he　would　be　fit　for　the　grueling　work　possibly　in　store　for　him。
Slone　unsaddled　the　horse　and　turned　him　loose；　and　with　a　snort　he　made　down
the　gentle　slope　for　the　grass。　Then　Slone　carried　his　saddle　to　a　shady　spot
afforded　by　a　slab　of　rock　and　a　dwarf　cedar；　and　here　he　composed　himself　to
rest　and　watch　and　think　and　wait。

Wildfire　was　plainly　in　sight　no　more　than　two　miles　away。　Gradually　he　was
grazing　along　toward　the　monuments　and　the　far　end　of　the　great　basin。　Slone
believed；　because　the　place　was　so　large；　that　Wildfire　thought　there　was　a
way　out　on　the　other　side　or　over　the　slopes　or　through　the　walls。　Never
before　had　the　far…sighted　stallion　made　a　mistake。　Slone　suddenly　felt　the
keen；　stabbing　fear　of　an　outlet　somewhere。　But　it　left　him　quickly。　He　had
studied　those　slopes　and　walls。　Wildfire　could　not　get　out；　except　by　the　pass
he　had　entered；　unless　he　could　fly。

Slone　lay　in　the　shade；　his　head　propped　on　his　saddle；　and　while　gazing　down
into　the　shimmering　hollow　he　began　to　plan。　He　calculated　that　he　must　be
able　to　carry　fire　swiftly　across　the　far　end　of　the　basin；　so　that　he　would
not　be　absent　long　from　the　mouth　of　the　pass。　Fire　was　always　a　difficult
matter；　since　he　must　depend　only　on　flint　and　steel。　He　decided　to　wait　till
dark；　build　a　fire　with　dead　cedar　sticks；　and　carry　a　bundle　of　them　with
burning　ends。　He　felt　assured　that　the　wind　caused　by　riding　would　keep　them
burning。　After　he　had　lighted　the　grass　all　he　had　to　do　was　to　hurry　back　to
his　station　and　there　await　developments。

The　day　passed　slowly；　and　it　was　hot。　The　heat…waves　rose　in　dark；　wavering
lines　and　veils　from　the　valley。　The　wind　blew　almost　a　gale。　Thin；　curling
sheets　of　sand　blew　up　over　the　crests　of　the　slopes；　and　the　sound　it　made
was　a　soft；　silken　rustling；　very　low。　The　sky　was　a　steely　blue　above　and
copper　close　over　the　distant　walls。

That　afternoon；　toward　the　close；　Slone　ate　the　last　of　the　meat。　At　sunset
the　wind　died　away　and　the　air　cooled。　There　was　a　strip　of　red　along　the　wall
of　rock　and　on　the　tips　of　the　monuments；　and　it　lingered　there　for　long；　a
strange；　bright　crown。　Nagger　was　not　far　away；　but　Wildfire　had　disappeared；
probably　behind　one　of　the　monuments。

When　twilight　fell　Slone　went　down　after　Nagger　and；　returning　with　him；　put
on　bridle　and　saddle。　Then　he　began　to　search　for　suitable　sticks　of　wood。
Farther　back　in　the　pass　he　found　stunted　dead　cedars；　and　from　these　secured
enough　for　his　purpose。　He　kindled　a　fire　and　burnt　the　ends　of　the　sticks
into　red　embers。　Making　a　bundle　of　these；　he　put　them　under　his　arm；　the
dull；　glowing　ends　backward；　and　then　mounted　his　horse。

It　was　just　about　dark　when　he　faced　down　into　the　valley。　When　he　reached
level　ground　he　kept　to　the　edge　of　the　left　slope　and　put　Nagger　to　a　good
trot。　The　grass　and　brush　were　scant　here；　and　the　color　of　the　sand　was
light；　so　he　had　no　difficulty　in　traveling。

From　time　to　time　his　horse　went　through　grass；　and　its　dry；　crackling　rustle；
showing　how　it　would　burn；　was　music　to　Slone。　Gradually　the　monuments　began
to　loom　up；　bold　and　black　against　the　blue　sky；　with　stars　seemingly　hanging
close　over　them。　Slone　had　calculated　that　the　basin　was　smaller　than　it
really　was；　in　both　length　and　breadth。　This　worried　him。　Wildfire　might　see
or　hear　or　scent　him；　and　make　a　break　back　to　the　pass　and　thus　escape。　Slone
was　glad　when　the　huge；　dark　monuments　were　indistinguishable　from　the　black；
frowning　wall。　He　had　to　go　slower　here；　because　of　the　darkness。　But　at　last
he　reached　the　slow　rise　of　jumbled　rock　that　evidently　marked　the　extent　of
weathering　on　that　side。　Here　he　turned　to　the　right　and　rode　out　into　the
valley。　The　floor　was　level　and　thickly　overgrown　with　long；　dead　grass　and
dead　greasewood；　as　dry　as　tinder。　It　was　easy　to　account　for　the　dryness；
neither　snow　nor　rain　had　visited　that　valley　for　many　months。　Slone　whipped
one　of　the　sticks　in　the　wind　and　soon　had　the　smoldering　end　red　and
showering　sparks。　Then　he　dropped　the　stick　in　the　grass；　with　curious　intent
and　a　strange　feeling　of　regret。

Instantly　the　grass　blazed　with　a　little　sputtering　roar。　Nagger　snorted。
〃Wildfire！〃　exclaimed　Slone。　That　word　was　a　favorite　one　with　riders；　and　now
Slone　used　it　both　to　call　out　his　menace　to　the　stallion　and　to　express　his
feeling　for　that　blaze；　already　running　wild。

Without　looking　back　Slone　rode　across　the　valley；　dropping　a　glowing　stick
every　quarter　of　a　mile。　When　he　reached　the　other　side　there　were　a　dozen
fires　behind　him；　burning　slowly；　with　white　smoke　rising　lazily。　Then　he
loped　Nagger　along　the　side　back　to　the　sandy　ascent；　and　on　up　to　the　mouth
of　the　pass。　There　he　searched　for　tracks。　Wildfire　had　not　gone　out；　and
Slone　experienced　relief　and　exultation。　He　took　up　a　position　in　the　middle
of　the　narrowest　part　of　the　pass；　and　there；　with　Nagger　ready　for　anything；
he　once　more　composed　himself　to　watch　and　wait。

Far　across　the　darkness　of　the　valley；　low　down；　twelve　lines　of　fire；　widely
separated；　crept　toward　one　another。　They　appeared　thin　and　slow；　with　only　an
occasional　leaping　flame。　And　some　of　the　black　spaces　must　have　been
monuments；　blotting　out　the　creeping　snail…lines　of　red。　Slone　watched；
strangely　fascinated。

〃What　do　you　think　of　that？〃　he　said；　aloud；　and　he　meant　his　query　for
Wildfire。

As　he　watched　the　lines　perceptibly　lengthened　and　brightened　and　pale　shadows
of　smoke　began　to　appear。　Over　at　the　left　of　the　valley　the　two　brightest
fires；　the　first　he　had　started；　crept　closer　and　closer　together。　They　seemed
long　in　covering　distance。　But　not　a　breath　of　wind　stirred；　and　besides　they
really　might　move　swiftly；　without　looking　so　to　Slone。　When　the　two　lines　met
a　sudden　and　larger　blaze　rose。

〃Ah！〃　said　the　rider；　and　then　he　watched　the　other　lines　creeping　together。
How　slowly　fire　moved；　he　thought。　The　red　stallion　would　have　every　chance　to
run　between　those　lines；　if　he　dared。　But　a　wild　horse　feared　nothing　like
fire。　This　one　would　not　run　the　gantle