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