riders of the purple sage-第6节

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Then；　with　his　back　against　a　stone；　Venters　faced　the　east；　and；　stick　in　hand　and　idle　blade；　he　waited。　The　glorious　sunlight　filled　the　valley　with　purple　fire。　Before　him；　to　left；　to　right；　waving；　rolling；　sinking；　rising；　like　low　swells　of　a　purple　sea；　stretched　the　sage。　Out　of　the　grove　of　cottonwoods；　a　green　patch　on　the　purple；　gleamed　the　dull　red　of　Jane　Withersteen's　old　stone　house。　And　from　there　extended　the　wide　green　of　the　village　gardens　and　orchards　marked　by　the　graceful　poplars；　and　farther　down　shone　the　deep；　dark　richness　of　the　alfalfa　fields。　Numberless　red　and　black　and　white　dots　speckled　the　sage；　and　these　were　cattle　and　horses。

So；　watching　and　waiting；　Venters　let　the　time　wear　away。　At　length　he　saw　a　horse　rise　above　a　ridge；　and　he　knew　it　to　be　Lassiter's　black。　Climbing　to　the　highest　rock；　so　that　he　would　show　against　the　sky…line；　he　stood　and　waved　his　hat。　The　almost　instant　turning　of　Lassiter's　horse　attested　to　the　quickness　of　that　rider's　eye。　Then　Venters　climbed　down；　saddled　his　horse；　tied　on　his　pack；　and；　with　a　word　to　his　dogs；　was　about　to　ride　out　to　meet　Lassiter；　when　he　concluded　to　wait　for　him　there；　on　higher　ground；　where　the　outlook　was　commanding。

It　had　been　long　since　Venters　had　experienced　friendly　greeting　from　a　man。　Lassiter's　warmed　in　him　something　that　had　grown　cold　from　neglect。　And　when　he　had　returned　it；　with　a　strong　grip　of　the　iron　hand　that　held　his；　and　met　the　gray　eyes；　he　knew　that　Lassiter　and　he　were　to　be　friends。

〃Venters；　let's　talk　awhile　before　we　go　down　there；〃　said　Lassiter；　slipping　his　bridle。　〃I　ain't　in　no　hurry。　Them's　sure　fine　dogs　you've　got。〃　With　a　rider's　eye　he　took　in　the　points　of　Venter's　horse；　but　did　not　speak　his　thought。　〃Well；　did　anythin'　come　off　after　I　left　you　last　night？〃

Venters　told　him　about　the　rustlers。

〃I　was　snug　hid　in　the　sage；〃　replied　Lassiter；　〃an'　didn't　see　or　hear　no　one。　Oldrin's　got　a　high　hand　here；　I　reckon。　It's　no　news　up　in　Utah　how　he　holes　in　canyons　an'　leaves　no　track。〃　Lassiter　was　silent　a　moment。　〃Me　an'　Oldrin'　wasn't　exactly　strangers　some　years　back　when　he　drove　cattle　into　Bostil's　Ford；　at　the　head　of　the　Rio　Virgin。　But　he　got　harassed　there　an'　now　he　drives　some　place　else。〃

〃Lassiter；　you　knew　him？　Tell　me；　is　he　Mormon　or　Gentile？〃

〃I　can't　say。　I've　knowed　Mormons　who　pretended　to　be　Gentiles。〃

〃No　Mormon　ever　pretended　that　unless　he　was　a　rustler〃　declared　Venters。

〃Mebbe　so。〃

〃It's　a　hard　country　for　any　one；　but　hardest　for　Gentiles。　Did　you　ever　know　or　hear　of　a　Gentile　prospering　in　a　Mormon　community？〃

〃I　never　did。〃

〃Well；　I　want　to　get　out　of　Utah。　I've　a　mother　living　in　Illinois。　I　want　to　go　home。　It's　eight　years　now。〃

The　older　man's　sympathy　moved　Venters　to　tell　his　story。　He　had　left　Quincy；　run　off　to　seek　his　fortune　in　the　gold　fields　had　never　gotten　any　farther　than　Salt　Lake　City；　wandered　here　and　there　as　helper；　teamster；　shepherd；　and　drifted　southward　over　the　divide　and　across　the　barrens　and　up　the　rugged　plateau　through　the　passes　to　the　last　border　settlements。　Here　he　became　a　rider　of　the　sage；　had　stock　of　his　own；　and　for　a　time　prospered；　until　chance　threw　him　in　the　employ　of　Jane　Withersteen。

〃Lassiter；　I　needn't　tell　you　the　rest。〃

〃Well；　it'd　be　no　news　to　me。　I　know　Mormons。　I've　seen　their　women's　strange　love　en'　patience　en'　sacrifice　an'　silence　en'　whet　I　call　madness　for　their　idea　of　God。　An'　over　against　that　I've　seen　the　tricks　of　men。　They　work　hand　in　hand；　all　together；　an'　in　the　dark。　No　man　can　hold　out　against　them；　unless　he　takes　to　packin'　guns。　For　Mormons　are　slow　to　kill。　That's　the　only　good　I　ever　seen　in　their　religion。　Venters；　take　this　from　me；　these　Mormons　ain't　just　right　in　their　minds。　Else　could　a　Mormon　marry　one　woman　when　he　already　has　a　wife；　an'　call　it　duty？〃

〃Lassiter；　you　think　as　I　think；〃　returned　Venters。

〃How'd　it　come　then　that　you　never　throwed　a　gun　on　Tull　or　some　of　them？〃　inquired　the　rider；　curiously。

〃Jane　pleaded　with　me；　begged　me　to　be　patient；　to　overlook。　She　even　took　my　guns　from　me。　I　lost　all　before　I　knew　it；〃　replied　Venters；　with　the　red　color　in　his　face。　〃But；　Lassiter；　listen。

〃Out　of　the　wreck　I　saved　a　Winchester；　two　Colts；　and　plenty　of　shells。　I　packed　these　down　into　Deception　Pass。　There；　almost　every　day　for　six　months；　I　have　practiced　with　my　rifle　till　the　barrel　burnt　my　hands。　Practised　the　drawthe　firing　of　a　Colt；　hour　after　hour！〃

〃Now　that's　interestin'　to　me；〃　said　Lassiter；　with　a　quick　uplift　of　his　head　and　a　concentration　of　his　gray　gaze　on　Venters。　〃Could　you　throw　a　gun　before　you　began　that　practisin'？〃

〃Yes。　And　now。。。〃　Venters　made　a　lightning…swift　movement。

Lassiter　smiled；　and　then　his　bronzed　eyelids　narrowed　till　his　eyes　seemed　mere　gray　slits。　〃You'll　kill　Tull！〃　He　did　not　question；　he　affirmed。

〃I　promised　Jane　Withersteen　I'd　try　to　avoid　Tull。　I'll　keep　my　word。　But　sooner　or　later　Tull　and　I　will　meet。　As　I　feel　now；　if　he　even　looks　at　me　I'll　draw！〃

〃I　reckon　so。　There'll　be　hell　down　there；　presently。〃　He　paused　a　moment　and　flicked　a　sage…brush　with　his　quirt。　〃Venters；　seein'　as　you're　considerable　worked　up；　tell　me　Milly　Erne's　story。〃

Venters's　agitation　stilled　to　the　trace　of　suppressed　eagerness　in　Lassiter's　query。

〃Milly　Erne's　story？　Well；　Lassiter；　I'll　tell　you　what　I　know。　Milly　Erne　had　been　in　Cottonwoods　years　when　I　first　arrived　there；　and　most　of　what　I　tell　you　happened　before　my　arrival。　I　got　to　know　her　pretty　well。　She　was　a　slip　of　a　woman；　and　crazy　on　religion。　I　conceived　an　idea　that　I　never　mentionedI　thought　she　was　at　heart　more　Gentile　than　Mormon。　But　she　passed　as　a　Mormon；　and　certainly　she　had　the　Mormon　woman's　locked　lips。　You　know；　in　every　Mormon　village　there　are　women　who　seem　mysterious　to　us；　but　about　Milly　there　was　more　than　the　ordinary　mystery。　When　she　came　to　Cottonwoods　she　had　a　beautiful　little　girl　whom　she　loved　passionately。　Milly　was　not　known　openly　in　Cottonwoods　as　a　Mormon　wife。　That　she　really　was　a　Mormon　wife　I　have　no　doubt。　Perhaps　the　Mormon's　other　wife　or　wives　would　not　acknowledge　Milly。　Such　things　happen　in　these　villages。　Mormon　wives　wear　yokes；　but　they　get　jealous。　Well；　whatever　had　brought　Milly　to　this　country　love　or　madness　of　religionshe　repented　of　it。　She　gave　up　teaching　the　village　school。　She　quit　the　church。　And　she　began　to　fight　Mormon　upbringing　for　her　baby　girl。　Then　the　Mormons　put　on　the　screws　slowly；　as　is　their　way。　At　last　the　child　disappeared。　'Lost'　was　the　report。　The　child　was　stolen；　I　know　that。　So　do　you。　That　wrecked　Milly　Erne。　But　she　lived　on　in　hope。　She　became　a　slave。　She　worked　her　heart　and　soul　and　life　out　to　get　back　her　child。　She　never　heard　of　it　again。　Then　she　sank。。。。I　can　see　her　now；　a　frail　thing；　so　transparent　you　could　almost　look　through　herwhite　like　ashesand　her　eyes！。。。Her　eyes　have　always　haunted　me。　She　had　one　real　friendJane　Withersteen。　But　Jane　couldn't　mend　a　broken　heart；　and　Milly　died。〃

For　moments　Lassiter　did　not　speak；　or　turn　his　head。

〃The　man！〃　he　exclaimed；　presently；　in　husky　accents。

〃I　haven't　the　slightest　idea　who　the　Mormon　was；〃　replied　Venters；　〃nor　has　any　Gentile　in　Cottonwoods。〃

〃Does　Jane　Withersteen　know？〃

〃Yes。　But　a　red…hot　running…iron　couldn't　burn　that　name　out　of　her！〃

Without　further　speech　Lassiter　started　off；　walking　his　horse　and　Venters　followed　with　his　dogs。　Half　a　mile　down　the　slope　they　entered　a　luxuriant　growth　of　willows；　and　soon　came　into　an　open　space　carpeted　with　grass　like　deep　green　velvet。　The　rushing　of　water　and　singing　of　birds　filled　their　ears。　Venters　led　his　comrade　to　a　shady　bower　and　showed　him　Amber　Spring。　It　was　a　magnificent　outburst　of　clear；　amber　water　pouring　from　a　dark；　stone…lined　hole。　Lassiter　knelt　and　drank；　lingered　there　to　drink　again。　He　made　no　comment；　but　Venters　did　not　need　words。　Next　to　his　horse　a　rider　of　the　sage　loved　a　spring。　And　this　spring　was　the　most　beautiful　and　remarkable　known　to　the　upland　riders　of　southern　Utah。　It　was　the　spring　that　made　old　Withersteen　a　feudal　lord　and　now　enabled　his　daughter　to　return　the　toll　which　her　father　had　exacted　from　the　toilers　of　the　sage。

The　spring　gushed　forth　in　a　swirling　torrent；　and　leaped　down　joyously　to　make　its　swift　way　along　a　willow…skirted　channel。　Moss　and　ferns　and　lilies　overhung　its　green　banks。　Except　for　the　rough…hewn　stones　that　held　and　directed　the　water；　this　willow　thicket　and　glade　had　been　left　as　nature　had　made　it。

Below　were　artificial　lakes；　three　in　number；　one　above　the　other　in　banks　of　raised　earth；　and　round　about　them　rose　the　lofty　green…foliaged　shafts　of　poplar　trees。　Ducks　dotted　the　glassy　surface　of　the　lakes；　a　blue　heron　stood　motionless　on　a　water…gate；　kingfishers　darted　with　shrieking　flight　along　the　shady　banks；　a　white　hawk　sailed　above；　and　from　the　trees　and　shrubs　came　the　song　of　robins　and　cat…birds。　It　was　all　in　strange　contrast　to　the　endless　slopes　of　lonely　sage　and　the　wild　rock　environs　beyond。　Venters　thought　of　the　woman　who　loved　the　birds　and　the　green　of　the　lea