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michael, brother of jerry-第57节

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 Valley of the Moon。

And in the meantime; running endlessly with Jerry over the ranch; he learned all the ways of it and all the life of it from the chickenyards and the duck…ponds to the highest pitch of Sonoma Mountain。  He learned where the wild deer; in their season; were to be found; when they raided the prune…orchard; the vineyards; and the apple…trees; when they sought the deepest canyons and most secret coverts; and when they stamped out in open glades and on bare hillsides and crashed and clattered their antlers together in combat。  Under Jerry's leadership; always running second and after on the narrow trails as a subdued dog should; he learned the ways and habits of the foxes; the coons; the weasels; and the ring…tail cats that seemed compounded of cat and coon and weasel。  He came to know the ground…nesting birds and the difference between the customs of the valley quail; the mountain quail; and the pheasants。  The traits and lairs of the domestic cats gone wild he also learned; as did he learn the wild loves of mountain farm…dogs with the free…roving coyotes。

He knew of the presence of the mountain lion; adrift down from Mendocino County; ere the first shorthorn calf was slain; and came home from the encounter; torn and bleeding; to attest what he had discovered and to be the cause of Harley Kennan riding trail next day with a rifle across his pommel。  Likewise Michael came to know what Harley Kennan never did know and always denied as existing on his ranchthe one rocky outcrop; in the dense heart of the mountain forest; where a score of rattlesnakes denned through the winters and warmed themselves in the sun。



CHAPTER XXXVI



Winter came on in its delectable way in the Valley of the Moon。 The last Mariposa lily vanished from the burnt grasses as the California Indian summer dreamed itself out in purple mists on the windless air。  Soft rain…showers first broke the spell。  Snow fell on the summit of Sonoma Mountain。  At the ranch house the morning air was crisp and brittle; yet midday made the shade welcome; and in the open; under the winter sun; roses bloomed and oranges; grape…fruit; and lemons turned to golden yellow ripeness。  Yet; a thousand feet beneath; on the floor of the valley; the mornings were white with frost。

And Michael barked twice。  The first time was when Harley Kennan; astride a hot…blooded sorrel colt; tried to make it leap a narrow stream。  Villa reined in her steed at the crest beyond; and; looking back into the little valley; waited for the colt to receive its lesson。  Michael waited; too; but closer at hand。  At first he lay down; panting from his run; by the stream…edge。  But he did not know horses very well; and soon his anxiety for the welfare of Harley Kennan brought him to his feet。

Harley was gentle and persuasive and all patience as he strove to make the colt take the leap。  The urge of voice and rein was of the mildest; but the animal balked the take…off each time; and the hot thoroughbredness in its veins made it sweat and lather。  The velvet of young grass was torn up by its hoofs; and its terror of the stream was such; that; when fetched to the edge at a canter; it stiffened and crouched to an abrupt stop; then reared on its hind…legs。  Which was too much for Michael。

He sprang at the horse's head as it came down with fore…feet to earth; and as he sprang he barked。  In his bark was censure and menace; and; as the horse reared again; he leaped into the air after it; his teeth clipping together as he just barely missed its nose。

Villa rode back down the slope to the opposite bank of the stream。

〃Mercy!〃 she cried。  〃Listen to him!  He's actually barking。〃

〃He thinks the colt is trying to do some damage to me;〃 Harley said。  〃That's his provocation。  He hasn't forgotten how to bark。 He's reading the colt a lecture。〃

〃If he gets him by the nose it will be more than a lecture;〃 Villa warned。  〃Be careful; Harley; or he will。〃

〃Now; Michael; lie down and be good;〃 Harley commanded。  〃It's all right; I tell you。  It's an right。  Lie down。〃

Michael sank down obediently; but protestingly; and he had eyes only for the horse's antics; while all his muscles were gathered tensely to spring in case the horse threatened injury to Harley again。

〃I can't give in to him now; or he never will jump anything;〃 Harley said to his wife; as he whirled about to gallop back to a distance。  〃Either I lift him over or I take a cropper。〃

He came back at full speed; and the colt; despite himself; unable to stop; lifted into the leap that would avoid the stream he feared; so that he cleared it with a good two yards to spare on the other side。

The next time Michael barked was when Harley; on the same hot… blood mount; strove to close a poorly hung gate on the steep pitch of a mountain wood…road。  Michael endured the danger to his man… god as long as he could; then flew at the colt's head in a frenzy of barking。

〃Anyway; his barking helped;〃 Harley conceded; as he managed to close the gate。  〃Michael must certainly have told the colt that he'd give him what…for if he didn't behave。〃

〃At any rate; he's not tongue…tied;〃 Villa laughed; 〃even if he isn't very loquacious。〃

And Michael's loquacity never went farther。  Only on these two occasions; when his master…god seemed to be in peril; was he known to bark。  He never barked at the moon; nor at hillside echoes; nor at any prowling thing。  A particular echo; to be heard directly from the ranch…house; was an unfailing source of exercise for Jerry's lungs。  At such times that Jerry barked; Michael; with a bored expression; would lie down and wait until the duet was over。 Nor did he bark when he attacked strange dogs that strayed upon the ranch。

〃He fights like a veteran;〃 Harley remarked; after witnessing one such encounter。  〃He's cold…blooded。  There's no excitement in him。〃

〃He's old before his time;〃 Villa said。  〃There is no heart of play left in him; and no desire for speech。  Just the same I know he loves me; and you〃

〃Without having to be voluble about it;〃 her husband completed for her。

〃You can see it shining in those quiet eyes of his;〃 she supplemented。

〃Reminds me of one of the survivors of Lieutenant Greeley's Expedition I used to know;〃 he agreed。  〃He was an enlisted soldier and one of the handful of survivors。  He had been through so much that he was just as subdued as Michael and just as taciturn。  He bored most people; who could not understand him。  Of course; the truth was the other way around。  They bored him。  They knew so little of life that he knew the last word of。  And one could scarcely get any word out of him。  It was not that he had forgotten how to speak; but that he could not see any reason for speaking when nobody could understand。  He was really crusty from too…bitter wise experience。  But all you had to do was look at him in his tremendous repose and know that he had been through the thousand hells; including all the frozen ones。  His eyes had the same quietness of Michael's。  And they had the same wisdom。  I'd give almost anything to know how he got his shoulder scarred。  It must have been a tiger or a lion。〃


The man; like the mountain lion whom Michael had encountered up the mountain; had strayed down from the wilds of Mendocino County; following the ruggedest mountain stretches; and; at night; crossing the farmed valley spaces where the presence of man was a danger to him。  Like the mountain lion; the man was an enemy to man; and all men were his enemies; seeking his life which he had forfeited in ways more terrible than the lion which had merely killed calves for food。

Like the mountain lion; the man was a killer。  But; unlike the lion; his vague description and the narrative of his deeds was in all the newspapers; and mankind was a vast deal more interested in him than in the lion。  The lion had slain calves in upland pastures。  But the man; for purposes of robbery; had slain an entire familythe postmaster; his wife; and their three children; in the upstairs over the post office in the mountain village of Chisholm。

For two weeks the man had eluded and exceeded pursuit。  His last crossing had been from the mountains of the Russian River; across wide…farmed Santa Rosa Valley; to Sonoma Mountain。  For two days he had laired and rested; sleeping much; in the wildest and most inaccessible precincts of the Kennan Ranch。  With him he had carried coffee stolen from the last house he had raided。  One of Harley Kennan's angora goats had furnished him with meat。  Four times he had slept the clock around from exhaustion; rousing on occasion; like any animal; to eat voraciously of the goat…meat; to drink large quantities of the coffee hot or cold; and to sink down into heavy but nightmare…ridden sleep。

And in the meantime civilization; with its efficient organization and intricate inventions; including electricity; had closed in on him。  Electricity had surrounded him。  The spoken word had located him in the wild canyons of Sonoma Mountain and fringed the mountain with posses of peace…officers and detachments of armed farmers。  More terrible to them than any mountain lion was a man… killing man astray in their landscape。  The telephone on the Kennan Ranch; and the t

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