riders of the purple sage-第8节

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〃Jane；　I　won't　take　either；〃　said　Venters；　emphatically。　〃I　wouldn't　risk　losing　one　of　your　favorites。〃

〃Wrangle；　then？〃

〃Thet's　the　hoss；〃　replied　Judkins。　〃Wrangle　can　outrun　Black　Star　an'　Night。　You'd　never　believe　it；　Miss　Withersteen；　but　I　know。　Wrangle's　the　biggest　en'　fastest　hoss　on　the　sage。〃

〃Oh　no；　Wrangle　can't　beat　Black　Star。　But；　Bern；　take　Wrangle　if　you　will　go。　Ask　Jerd　for　anything　you　need。　Oh；　be　watchful　careful。。。。　God　speed　you。〃

She　clasped　his　hand；　turned　quickly　away；　and　went　down　a　lane　with　the　rider。

Venters　rode　to　the　barn；　and；　leaping　off；　shouted　for　Jerd。　The　boy　came　running。　Venters　sent　him　for　meat；　bread；　and　dried　fruits；　to　be　packed　in　saddlebags。　His　own　horse　he　turned　loose　into　the　nearest　corral。　Then　he　went　for　Wrangle。　The　giant　sorrel　had　earned　his　name　for　a　trait　the　opposite　of　amiability。　He　came　readily　out　of　the　barn；　but　once　in　the　yard　he　broke　from　Venters；　and　plunged　about　with　ears　laid　back。　Venters　had　to　rope　him；　and　then　he　kicked　down　a　section　of　fence；　stood　on　his　hind　legs；　crashed　down　and　fought　the　rope。　Jerd　returned　to　lend　a　hand。

〃Wrangle　don't　git　enough　work；〃　said　Jerd；　as　the　big　saddle　went　on。　〃He's　unruly　when　he's　corralled；　an'　wants　to　run。　Wait　till　he　smells　the　sage！〃

〃Jerd；　this　horse　is　an　iron…jawed　devil。　I　never　straddled　him　but　once。　Run？　Say；　he's　swift　as　wind！〃

When　Venters's　boot　touched　the　stirrup　the　sorrel　bolted；　giving　him　the　rider's　flying　mount。　The　swing　of　this　fiery　horse　recalled　to　Venters　days　that　were　not　really　long　past；　when　he　rode　into　the　sage　as　the　leader　of　Jane　Withersteen's　riders。　Wrangle　pulled　hard　on　a　tight　rein。　He　galloped　out　of　the　lane；　down　the　shady　border　of　the　grove；　and　hauled　up　at　the　watering…trough；　where　he　pranced　and　champed　his　bit。　Venters　got　off　and　filled　his　canteen　while　the　horse　drank。　The　dogs；　Ring　and　Whitie；　came　trotting　up　for　their　drink。　Then　Venters　remounted　and　turned　Wrangle　toward　the　sage。

A　wide；　white　trail　wound　away　down　the　slope。　One　keen；　sweeping　glance　told　Venters　that　there　was　neither　man　nor　horse　nor　steer　within　the　limit　of　his　vision；　unless　they　were　lying　down　in　the　sage。　Ring　loped　in　the　lead　and　Whitie　loped　in　the　rear。　Wrangle　settled　gradually　into　an　easy　swinging　canter；　and　Venters's　thoughts；　now　that　the　rush　and　flurry　of　the　start　were　past；　and　the　long　miles　stretched　before　him；　reverted　to　a　calm　reckoning　of　late　singular　coincidences。

There　was　the　night　ride　of　Tull's；　which；　viewed　in　the　light　of　subsequent　events；　had　a　look　of　his　covert　machinations；　Oldring　and　his　Masked　Rider　and　his　rustlers　riding　muffled　horses；　the　report　that　Tull　had　ridden　out　that　morning　with　his　man　Jerry　on　the　trail　to　Glaze；　the　strange　disappearance　of　Jane　Withersteen's　riders；　the　unusually　determined　attempt　to　kill　the　one　Gentile　still　in　her　employ；　an　intention　frustrated；　no　doubt；　only　by　Judkin's　magnificent　riding　of　her　racer；　and　lastly　the　driving　of　the　red　herd。　These　events；　to　Venters's　color　of　mind；　had　a　dark　relationship。　Remembering　Jane's　accusation　of　bitterness；　he　tried　hard　to　put　aside　his　rancor　in　judging　Tull。　But　it　was　bitter　knowledge　that　made　him　see　the　truth。　He　had　felt　the　shadow　of　an　unseen　hand；　he　had　watched　till　he　saw　its　dim　outline；　and　then　he　had　traced　it　to　a　man's　hate；　to　the　rivalry　of　a　Mormon　Elder；　to　the　power　of　a　Bishop；　to　the　long；　far…reaching　arm　of　a　terrible　creed。　That　unseen　hand　had　made　its　first　move　against　Jane　Withersteen。　Her　riders　had　been　called　in；　leaving　her　without　help　to　drive　seven　thousand　head　of　cattle。　But　to　Venters　it　seemed　extraordinary　that　the　power　which　had　called　in　these　riders　had　left　so　many　cattle　to　be　driven　by　rustlers　and　harried　by　wolves。　For　hand　in　glove　with　that　power　was　an　insatiate　greed；　they　were　one　and　the　same。

〃What　can　Oldring　do　with　twenty…five　hundred　head　of　cattle？〃　muttered　Venters。　〃Is　he　a　Mormon？　Did　he　meet　Tull　last　night？　It　looks　like　a　black　plot　to　me。　But　Tull　and　his　churchmen　wouldn't　ruin　Jane　Withersteen　unless　the　Church　was　to　profit　by　that　ruin。　Where　does　Oldring　come　in？　I'm　going　to　find　out　about　these　things。〃

Wrangle　did　the　twenty…five　miles　in　three　hours　and　walked　little　of　the　way。　When　he　had　gotten　warmed　up　he　had　been　allowed　to　choose　his　own　gait。　The　afternoon　had　well　advanced　when　Venters　struck　the　trail　of　the　red　herd　and　found　where　it　had　grazed　the　night　before。　Then　Venters　rested　the　horse　and　used　his　eyes。　Near　at　hand　were　a　cow　and　a　calf　and　several　yearlings；　and　farther　out　in　the　sage　some　straggling　steers。　He　caught　a　glimpse　of　coyotes　skulking　near　the　cattle。　The　slow　sweeping　gaze　of　the　rider　failed　to　find　other　living　things　within　the　field　of　sight。　The　sage　about　him　was　breast…high　to　his　horse；　oversweet　with　its　warm；　fragrant　breath；　gray　where　it　waved　to　the　light；　darker　where　the　wind　left　it　still；　and　beyond　the　wonderful　haze…purple　lent　by　distance。　Far　across　that　wide　waste　began　the　slow　lift　of　uplands　through　which　Deception　Pass　cut　its　tortuous　many…canyoned　way。

Venters　raised　the　bridle　of　his　horse　and　followed　the　broad　cattle　trail。　The　crushed　sage　resembled　the　path　of　a　monster　snake。　In　a　few　miles　of　travel　he　passed　several　cows　and　calves　that　had　escaped　the　drive。　Then　he　stood　on　the　last　high　bench　of　the　slope　with　the　floor　of　the　valley　beneath。　The　opening　of　the　canyon　showed　in　a　break　of　the　sage；　and　the　cattle　trail　paralleled　it　as　far　as　he　could　see。　That　trail　led　to　an　undiscovered　point　where　Oldring　drove　cattle　into　the　pass；　and　many　a　rider　who　had　followed　it　had　never　returned。　Venters　satisfied　himself　that　the　rustlers　had　not　deviated　from　their　usual　course；　and　then　he　turned　at　right　angles　off　the　cattle　trail　and　made　for　the　head　of　the　pass。

The　sun　lost　its　heat　and　wore　down　to　the　western　horizon；　where　it　changed　from　white　to　gold　and　rested　like　a　huge　ball　about　to　roll　on　its　golden　shadows　down　the　slope。　Venters　watched　the　lengthening　of　the　rays　and　bars；　and　marveled　at　his　own　league…long　shadow。　The　sun　sank。　There　was　instant　shading　of　brightness　about　him；　and　he　saw　a　kind　of　cold　purple　bloom　creep　ahead　of　him　to　cross　the　canyon；　to　mount　the　opposite　slope　and　chase　and　darken　and　bury　the　last　golden　flare　of　sunlight。

Venters　rode　into　a　trail　that　he　always　took　to　get　down　into　the　canyon。　He　dismounted　and　found　no　tracks　but　his　own　made　days　previous。　Nevertheless　he　sent　the　dog　Ring　ahead　and　waited。　In　a　little　while　Ring　returned。　Whereupon　Venters　led　his　horse　on　to　the　break　in　the　ground。

The　opening　into　Deception　Pass　was　one　of　the　remarkable　natural　phenomena　in　a　country　remarkable　for　vast　slopes　of　sage；　uplands　insulated　by　gigantic　red　walls；　and　deep　canyons　of　mysterious　source　and　outlet。　Here　the　valley　floor　was　level；　and　here　opened　a　narrow　chasm；　a　ragged　vent　in　yellow　walls　of　stone。　The　trail　down　the　five　hundred　feet　of　sheer　depth　always　tested　Venters's　nerve。　It　was　bad　going　for　even　a　burro。　But　Wrangle；　as　Venters　led　him；　snorted　defiance　or　disgust　rather　than　fear；　and；　like　a　hobbled　horse　on　the　jump；　lifted　his　ponderous　iron…shod　fore　hoofs　and　crashed　down　over　the　first　rough　step。　Venters　warmed　to　greater　admiration　of　the　sorrel；　and；　giving　him　a　loose　bridle；　he　stepped　down　foot　by　foot。　Oftentimes　the　stones　and　shale　started　by　Wrangle　buried　Venters　to　his　knees；　again　he　was　hard　put　to　it　to　dodge　a　rolling　boulder；　there　were　times　when　he　could　not　see　Wrangle　for　dust；　and　once　he　and　the　horse　rode　a　sliding　shelf　of　yellow；　weathered　cliff。　It　was　a　trail　on　which　there　could　be　no　stops；　and；　therefore；　if　perilous；　it　was　at　least　one　that　did　not　take　long　in　the　descent。

Venters　breathed　lighter　when　that　was　over；　and　felt　a　sudden　assurance　in　the　success　of　his　enterprise。　For　at　first　it　had　been　a　reckless　determination　to　achieve　something　at　any　cost；　and　now　it　resolved　itself　into　an　adventure　worthy　of　all　his　reason　and　cunning；　and　keenness　of　eye　and　ear。

Pinyon　pines　clustered　in　little　clumps　along　the　level　floor　of　the　pass。　Twilight　had　gathered　under　the　walls。　Venters　rode　into　the　trail　and　up　the　canyon。　Gradually　the　trees　and　caves　and　objects　low　down　turned　black；　and　this　blackness　moved　up　the　walls　till　night　enfolded　the　pass；　while　day　still　lingered　above。　The　sky　darkened；　and　stars　began　to　show；　at　first　pale　and　then　bright。　Sharp　notches　of　the　rim…wall；　biting　like　teeth　into　the　blue；　were　landmarks　by　which　Venters　knew　where　his　camping　site　lay。　He　had　to　feel　his　way　through　a　thicket　of　slender　oaks　to　a　spring　where　he　watered　Wrangle　and　drank　himself。　Here　he　unsaddled　and　turned　Wrangle　loose；　having　no　fear　that　the　horse　would　leave　the　thick；　cool　grass　adjacent　to　the　spring。　Next　he　satisfied　his　own　hunger；　fed　Ring　and　Whitie　and；　with　them　curled　beside　him；　composed　himself　to　await　sleep。

There　had　been　a　time　when　night　in　the　high　altitude　of　these　Utah　uplands　had　been　satisfying　to　Venters。　But　that　was　before　the　oppression　of　enemies　had　made　the　chang