the man of the forest-第63节

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herself　out　of　sight。　　At　times　a　faint　song　or　laugh；　very
unnatural；　was　wafted　across　the　space。　　Wilson　plodded　at
the　cooking　and　apparently　heard　no　sounds。　　Presently　he
called　the　men　to　eat；　which　office　they　surlily　and
silently　performed；　as　if　it　was　a　favor　bestowed　upon　the
cook。

〃Snake；　hadn't　I　ought　to　take　a　bite　of　grub　over　to　the
gurl？〃　asked　Wilson。

〃Do　you　hev　to　ask　me　thet？〃　snapped　Anson。　　〃She's　gotta　be
fed；　if　we　hev　to　stuff　it　down　her　throat。〃

〃Wal；　I　ain't　stuck　on　the　job；〃　replied　Wilson。　　〃But　I'll
tackle　it；　seein'　you…all　got　cold　feet。〃

With　plate　and　cup　be　reluctantly　approached　the　little
lean…to；　and；　kneeling；　he　put　his　head　inside。　　The　girl；
quick…eyed　and　alert；　had　evidently　seen　him　coming。　　At　any
rate；　she　greeted　him　with　a　cautious　smile。

〃Jim；　was　I　pretty　good？〃　she　whispered。

〃Miss；　you　was　shore　the　finest　aktress　I　ever　seen；〃　he
responded；　in　a　low　voice。　　〃But　you　dam　near　overdid　it。　　I'm
goin'　to　tell　Anson　you're　sick　now　　poisoned　or　somethin'
awful。　　Then　we'll　wait　till　night。　　Dale　shore　will　help　us
out。〃

〃Oh；　I'm　on　fire　to　get　away；〃　she　exclaimed。　　〃Jim　Wilson；
I'll　never　forget　you　as　long　as　I　live！〃

He　seemed　greatly　embarrassed。

〃Wal　　miss　　I　　I'll　do　my　best　licks。　　But　I　ain't
gamblin'　none　on　results。　　Be　patient。　　Keep　your　nerve。　　Don't
get　scared。　　I　reckon　between　me　an'　Dale　you'll　git　away
from　heah。〃

Withdrawing　his　head；　he　got　up　and　returned　to　the
camp…fire；　where　Anson　was　waiting　curiously。

〃I　left　the　grub。　　But　she　didn't　touch　it。　　Seems　sort　of
sick　to　me；　like　she　was　poisoned。〃

〃Jim；　didn't　I　hear　you　talkin'？〃　asked　Anson。

〃Shore。　　I　was　coaxin'　her。　　Reckon　she　ain't　so　ranty　as　she
was。　　But　she　shore　is　doubled…up；　an'　sickish。〃

〃Wuss　an'　wuss　all　the　time；〃　said　Anson；　between　his　teeth。
〃An'　where's　Burt？　　Hyar　it's　noon　an'　he　left　early。　　He
never　was　no　woodsman。　　He's　got　lost。〃

〃Either　thet　or　he's　run　into　somethin'；〃　replied　Wilson；
thoughtfully。

Anson　doubled　a　huge　fist　and　cursed　deep　under　his　breath
　the　reaction　of　a　man　whose　accomplices　and　partners　and
tools；　whose　luck；　whose　faith　in　himself　had　failed　him。　　He
flung　himself　down　under　a　tree；　and　after　a　while；　when　his
rigidity　relaxed；　he　probably　fell　asleep。　　Moze　and　Shady
kept　at　their　game。　　Wilson　paced　to　and　fro；　sat　down；　and
then　got　up　to　bunch　the　horses　again；　walked　around　the
dell　and　back　to　camp。　　The　afternoon　hours　were　long。　　And
they　were　waiting　hours。　　The　act　of　waiting　appeared　on　the
surface　of　all　these　outlaws　did。

At　sunset　the　golden　gloom　of　the　glen　changed　to　a　vague；
thick　twilight。　　Anson　rolled　over；　yawned；　and　sat　up。　　As　he
glanced　around；　evidently　seeking　Burt；　his　face　clouded。

〃No　sign　of　Burt？〃　he　asked。

Wilson　expressed　a　mild　surprise。　　〃Wal；　Snake；　you　ain't
expectin'　Burt　now？〃

〃I　am；　course　I　am。　　Why　not？〃　demanded　Anson。　　〃Any　other
time　we'd　look　fer　him；　wouldn't　we？〃

〃Any　other　time　ain't　now。　。　。　。　　Burt　won't　ever　come　back！〃
Wilson　spoke　it　with　a　positive　finality。〃

〃A…huh！　　Some　more　of　them　queer　feelin's　of　yourn　
operatin'　again；　hey？　　Them　onnatural　kind　thet　you　can't
explain；　hey？〃

Anson's　queries　were　bitter　and　rancorous。

〃Yes。　　An'；　Snake；　I　tax　you　with　this　heah。　　Ain't　any　of
them　queer　feelin's　operatin'　in　you？　　〃

〃No！〃　rolled　out　the　leader；　savagely。　　But　his　passionate
denial　was　a　proof　that　he　lied。　　From　the　moment　of　this
outburst；　which　was　a　fierce　clinging　to　the　old；　brave
instincts　of　his　character；　unless　a　sudden　change　marked
the　nature　of　his　fortunes；　he　would　rapidly　deteriorate　to
the　breaking…point。　　And　in　such　brutal；　unrestrained　natures
as　his　this　breaking…point　meant　a　desperate　stand；　a
desperate　forcing　of　events；　a　desperate　accumulation　of
passions　that　stalked　out　to　deal　and　to　meet　disaster　and
blood　and　death。

Wilson　put　a　little　wood　on　the　fire　and　he　munched　a
biscuit。　　No　one　asked　him　to　cook。　　No　one　made　any　effort　to
do　so。　　One　by　one　each　man　went　to　the　pack　to　get　some
bread　and　meat。

Then　they　waited　as　men　who　knew　not　what　they　waited　for；
yet　hated　and　dreaded　it。

Twilight　in　that　glen　was　naturally　a　strange；　veiled
condition　of　the　atmosphere。　　It　was　a　merging　of　shade　and
light；　which　two　seemed　to　make　gray；　creeping　shadows。

Suddenly　a　snorting　and　stamping　of　the　horses　startled　the
men。

〃Somethin'　scared　the　hosses；〃　said　Anson；　rising。　　〃Come
on。〃

Moze　accompanied　him；　and　they　disappeared　in　the　gloom。
More　trampling　of　hoofs　was　heard；　then　a　cracking　of　brush；
and　the　deep　voices　of　men。　　At　length　the　two　outlaws
returned；　leading　three　of　the　horses；　which　they　haltered
in　the　open　glen。

The　camp…fire　light　showed　Anson's　face　dark　and　serious。

〃Jim；　them　hosses　are　wilder　'n　deer；〃　he　said。　　〃I　ketched
mine；　an'　Moze　got　two。　　But　the　rest　worked　away　whenever　we
come　close。　　Some　varmint　has　scared　them　bad。　　We　all　gotta
rustle　out　thar　quick。〃

Wilson　rose；　shaking　his　head　doubtfully。　　And　at　that　moment
the　quiet　air　split　to　a　piercing；　horrid　neigh　of　a
terrified　horse。　　Prolonged　to　a　screech；　it　broke　and　ended。
Then　followed　snorts　of　fright；　pound　and　crack　and　thud　of
hoofs；　and　crash　of　brush；　then　a　gathering　thumping；
crashing　roar；　split　by　piercing　sounds。

〃Stampede！〃　yelled　Anson；　and　he　ran　to　hold　his　own　horse；
which　he　had　haltered　right　in　camp。　　It　was　big　and
wild…looking；　and　now　reared　and　plunged　to　break　away。
Anson　just　got　there　in　time；　and　then　it　took　all　his
weight　to　pull　the　horse　down。　　Not　until　the　crashing；
snorting；　pounding　melee　had　subsided　and　died　away　over　the
rim　of　the　glen　did　Anson　dare　leave　his　frightened
favorite。

〃Gone！　　Our　horses　are　gone！　　Did　you　hear　'em？〃　he　exclaimed；
blankly。

〃Shore。　　They're　a　cut…up　an'　crippled　bunch　by　now；〃　replied
Wilson。

〃Boss；　we'll　never　git　'ern　back；　not　'n　a　hundred　years；〃
declared　Moze。

〃Thet　settles　us；　Snake　Anson；〃　stridently　added　Shady
Jones。　　〃Them　hosses　are　gone！　　You　can　kiss　your　hand　to
them。　。　。　。　　They　wasn't　hobbled。　　They　hed　an　orful　scare。
They　split　on　thet　stampede　an'　they'll　never　git　together。
。　。　。　　See　what　you've　fetched　us　to！〃

Under　the　force　of　this　triple　arraignment　the　outlaw　leader
dropped　to　his　seat；　staggered　and　silenced。　　In　fact；
silence　fell　upon　all　the　men　and　likewise　enfolded　the
glen。

Night　set　in　jet…black；　dismal；　lonely；　without　a　star。
Faintly　the　wind　moaned。　　Weirdly　the　brook　babbled　through
its　strange　chords　to　end　in　the　sound　that　was　hollow。　　It
was　never　the　same　　a　rumble；　as　if　faint；　distant　thunder
　a　deep　gurgle；　as　of　water　drawn　into　a　vortex　　a
rolling；　as　of　a　stone　in　swift　current。　　The　black　cliff　was
invisible；　yet　seemed　to　have　many　weird　faces；　the　giant
pines　loomed　spectral；　the　shadows　were　thick；　moving；
changing。　　Flickering　lights　from　the　camp…fire　circled　the
huge　trunks　and　played　fantastically　over　the　brooding　men。
This　camp…fire　did　not　burn　or　blaze　cheerily；　it　had　no
glow；　no　sputter；　no　white　heart；　no　red；　living　embers。　　One
by　one　the　outlaws；　as　if　with　common　consent；　tried　their
hands　at　making　the　fire　burn　aright。　　What　little　wood　had
been　collected　was　old；　it　would　burn　up　with　false　flare；
only　to　die　quickly。

After　a　while　not　one　of　the　outlaws　spoke　or　stirred。　　Not
one　smoked。　　Their　gloomy　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　fire。　　Each
one　was　concerned　with　his　own　thoughts；　his　own　lonely　soul
unconsciously　full　of　a　doubt　of　the　future。　　That　brooding
hour　severed　him　from　comrade。

At　night　nothing　seemed　the　same　as　it　was　by　day。　　With
success　and　plenty；　with　full…blooded　action　past　and　more
in　store；　these　outlaws　were　as　different　from　their　present
state　as　this　black　night　was　different　from　the　bright　day
they　waited　for。　　Wilson；　though　he　played　a　deep　game　of
deceit　for　the　sake　of　the　helpless　girl　　and　thus　did　not
have　haunting　and　superstitious　fears　on　her　account　　was
probably　more　conscious　of　impending　catastrophe　than　any　of
them。

The　evil　they　had　done　spoke　in　the　voice　of　nature；　out　of
the　darkness；　and　was　interpreted　by　each　according　to　his
hopes　and　fears。　　Fear　was　their　predominating　sense。　　For
years　they　had　lived　with　some　species　of　fear　　of　honest
men　or　vengeance；　of　pursuit；　of　starvation；　of　lack　of
drink　or　gold；　of　blood　and　death；　of　stronger　men；　of　luck；
of　chance；　of　fate；　of　mysterious　nameless　force。　　Wilson　was
the　type　of　fearless　spirit；　but　he　endured　the　most　gnawing
and　implacable　fear　of　all　　that　of　himself　　that　he
must　inevitably　fall　to　deeds　beneath　his　manhood。

So　they　hunched　around　the　camp…fire；　brooding　because　hope
was　at　lowest　ebb；　listening　because　the　weird；　black
silence；　with　its　moan　of　wind　and　hollow　laugh　of　brook；
compelled　them　to　hear；　waiting　for　sleep；　for　the　hours　to
pass；　for　whatever　was　to　come。

And　it　was　Anson　who　caught　the　first　intimation　of　an
impending　doom。



CHAPTER　XXIII

〃Listen！〃

Anson　whispered　tensely。　　His　poise　was　motionless；　his　eyes
roved　everywhere。　　He　held　up　a　shak