arizona nights-第9节

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impressions。



We　succeeded　in　killing　a　nice；　fat　white…tail　buck；　and　so

returned　to　camp　happy。　　The　rain；　held　off。　　We　dug　ditches；

organised　shelters；　cooked　a　warm　meal。　　For　the　next　day　we

planned　a　bear　hunt　afoot；　far　up　a　manzanita　canon　where

Uncle　Jim　knew　of　some　〃holing　up〃　caves。



But　when　we　awoke　in　the　morning　we　threw　aside　our　coverings

with　some　difficulty　to　look　on　a　ground　covered　with　snow；　trees

laden　almost　to　the　breaking　point　with　snow；　and　the　air　filled

with　it。



〃No　bear　today〃　said　the　Cattleman。　



〃No；〃　agreed　Uncle　Jim　drily。　　〃No　b'ar。　　And　what's　more；　unless

yo're　aimin'　to　stop　here　somewhat　of　a　spell；　we'll　have　to　make

out　to…day。〃　　



We　cooked　with　freezing　fingers；　ate　while　dodging　avalanches

from　the　trees；　and　packed　reluctantly。　　The　ropes　were　frozen；

the　hobbles　stiff；　everything　either　crackling　or　wet。　　Finally

the　task　was　finished。　　We　took　a　last　warming　of　the　fingers　and

climbed　on。　　



The　country　was　wonderfully　beautiful　with　the　white　not　yet

shaken　from　the　trees　and　rock　ledges。　　Also　it　was　wonderfully

slippery。　　The　snow　was　soft　enough　to　ball　under　the　horses'

hoofs；　so　that　most　of　the　time　the　poor　animals　skated　and

stumbled　along　on　stilts。　　Thus　we　made　our　way　back　over　ground

which；　naked　of　these　difficulties；　we　had　considered　bad　enough。



Imagine　riding　along　a　slant　of　rock　shelving　off　to　a　bad

tumble；　so　steep　that　your　pony　has　to　do　more　or　less　expert

ankle　work　to　keep　from　slipping　off　sideways。　　During　the

passage　of　that　rock　you　are　apt　to　sit　very　light。　　Now　cover　it

with　several　inches　of　snow；　stick　a　snowball　on　each　hoof　of

your　mount；　and　try　again。　　When　you　have　ridden　itor　its

duplicatea　few　score　of　times；　select　a　steep　mountain　side；

cover　it　with　round　rocks　the　size　of　your　head；　and　over　that

spread　a　concealing　blanket　of　the　same　sticky　snow。　　You　are

privileged　to　vary　these　to　the　limits　of　your　imagination。



Once　across　the　divide；　we　ran　into　a　new　sort　of　trouble。　　You

may　remember　that　on　our　journey　over　we　had　been　forced　to

travel　for　some　distance　in　a　narrow　stream…bed。　　During　our

passage　we　had　scrambled　up　some　rather　steep　and　rough　slopes；

and　hopped　up　some　fairly　high　ledges。　　Now　we　found　the

heretofore　dry　bed　flowing　a　good　eight　inches　deep。　　The　steep

slopes　had　become　cascades；　the　ledges；　waterfalls。　　When　we

came　to　them；　we　had　to　〃shoot　the　rapids〃　as　best　we　could；

only　to　land　with　a　PLUNK　in　an　indeterminately　deep　pool　at　the

bottom。　　Some　of　the　pack　horses　went　down；　sousing　again　our

unfortunate　bedding；　but　by　the　grace　of　fortune　not　a　saddle

pony　lost　his　feet。



After　a　time　the　gorge　widened。　　We　came　out　into　the　box　canon

with　its　trees。　　Here　the　water　spread　and　shoaled　to　a　depth　of

only　two　or　three　inches。　　We　splashed　along　gaily　enough；　for；

with　the　exception　of　an　occasional　quicksand　or　boggy　spot；　our

troubles　were　over。　　



Jed　Parker　and　I　happened　to　ride　side　by　side；　bringing　up　the

rear　and　seeing　to　it　that　the　pack　animals　did　not　stray　or

linger。　　As　we　passed　the　first　of　the　rustlers'　corrals；　he

called　my　attention　to　them。



〃Go　take　a　look；〃　said　he。　〃We　only　got　those　fellows　out　of

here　two　years　ago。〃



I　rode　over。　　At　this　point　the　rim…rock　broke　to　admit　the

ingress　of　a　ravine　into　the　main　canon。　　Riding　a　short

distance　up　the　ravine；　I　could　see　that　it　ended　abruptly　in　a

perpendicular　cliff。　　As　the　sides　also　were　precipitous；　it

became　necessary　only　to　build　a　fence　across　the　entrance　into

the　main　canon　to　become　possessed　of　a　corral　completely

closed　in。　　Remembering　the　absolute　invisibility　of　these

sunken　canons　until　the　rider　is　almost　directly　over　them；　and

also　the　extreme　roughness　and　remoteness　of　the　district；　I

could　see　that　the　spot　was　admirably　adapted　to　concealment。



〃There's　quite　a　yarn　about　the　gang　that　held　this　hole；〃　said

Jed　Parker　to　me；　when　I　had　ridden　back　to　him　　〃I'll　tell　you

about　it　sometime。〃

　

We　climbed　the　hill；　descended　on　the　Double　R；　built　a　fire　in

the　stove；　dried　out；　and　were　happy。　　After　a　square　mealand　a

dry　oneI　reminded　Jed　Parker　of　his　promise；　and　so；　sitting

cross…legged　on　his　〃so…gun〃　in　the　middle　of　the　floor；　he　told

us　the　following　yarn：



There's　a　good　deal　of　romance　been　written　about　the　〃bad　man；〃

and　there's　about　the　same　amount　of　nonsense。　　The　bad　man　is

justa　plain　murderer；　neither　more　nor　less。　　He　never　does　get

into　a　real；　good；　plain；　stand…up　gunfight　if　he　can　possibly

help　it。　　His　killin's　are　done　from　behind　a　door；　or　when　he's

got　his　man　dead　to　rights。　　There's　Sam　Cook。　　You've　all　heard

of　him。　　He　had　nerve；　of　course；　and　when　he　was　backed　into　a

corner　he　made　good；　he　was　sure　sudden　death　with　a　gun。　　But

when　he　went　for　a　man　deliberate；　he　didn't　take　no　special

chances。　　For　a　while　he　was　marshal　at　Willets。　　Pretty　soon　it

was　noted　that　there　was　a　heap　of　cases　of　resisting　arrest；

where　Sam　as　marshal　had　to　shoot；　and　that　those　cases　almost

always　happened　to　be　his　personal　enemies。　　Of　course；　that

might　be　all　right；　but　it　looked　suspicious。　　Then　one　day　he

killed　poor　old　Max　Schmidt　out　behind　his　own　saloon。　　Called

him　out　and　shot　him　in　the　stomach。　　Said　Max　resisted　arrest　on

a　warrant　for　keepin'　open　out　of　hours！　　That　was　a　sweet

warrant　to　take　out　in　Willets；　anyway！　　Mrs。　Schmidt　always

claimed　that　she　say　that　deal　played；　and　that；　while　they　were

talkin'　perfectly　peacable；　Cook　let　drive　from　the　hip　at　about

two　yards'　range。　　Anyway；　we　decided　we　needed　another　marshal。　

Nothin'　else　was　ever　done；　for　the　Vigilantes　hadn't　been

formed；　and　your　individual　and　decent　citizen　doesn't　care　to　be

marked　by　a　gun　of　that　stripe。　　Leastwise；　unless　he　wants　to　go

in　for　bad…man　methods　and　do　a　little　ambusheein'　on　his　own

account。



The　point　is；　that　these　yere　bad　men　are　a　low…down；　miserable

proposition；　and　plain；　cold…blood　murderers；　willin'　to　wait　for

a　sure　thing；　and　without　no　compunctions　whatsoever。　　The　bad

man　takes　you　unawares；　when　you're　sleepin'；　or　talkin'；　or

drinkin'；　or　lookin'　to　see　what　for　a　day　it's　goin'　to　be；

anyway。　　He　don't　give　you　no　show；　and　sooner　or　later　he's

goin'　to　get　you　in　the　safest　and　easiest　way　for　himself。　

There　ain't　no　romance　about　that。　　



And；　until　you've　seen　a　few　men　called　out　of　their　shacks　for　a

friendly　conversation；　and　shot　when　they　happen　to　look　away；　or

asked　for　a　drink　of　water；　and　killed　when　they　stoop　to　the

spring；　or　potted　from　behind　as　they　go　into　a　room；　it's　pretty

hard　to　believe　that　any　man　can　he　so　plumb　lackin'　in　fair　play

or　pity　or　just　natural　humanity。　　



As　you　boys　know；　I　come　in　from　Texas　to　Buck　Johnson's　about

ten　year　back。　　I　had　a　pretty　good　mount　of　ponies　that　I　knew；

and　I　hated　to　let　them　go　at　prices　they　were　offerin'　then；　so

I　made　up　my　mind　to　ride　across　and　bring　them　in　with　me。　　It

wasn't　so　awful　far；　and　I　figured　that　I'd　like　to　take　in　what

New　Mexico　looked　like　anyway。　　



About　down　by　Albuquerque　I　tracked　up　with　another　outfit　headed

my　way。　　There　was　five　of　them；　three　men；　and　a　woman；　and　a

yearlin'　baby。　　They　had　a　dozen　hosses；　and　that　was　about　all　I

could　see。　　There　was　only　two　packed；　and　no　wagon。　　I　suppose

the　whole　outfitpots；　pans；　and　kettleswas　worth　five

dollars。　　It　was　just　supper　when　I　run　across　them；　and　it

didn't　take　more'n　one　look　to　discover　that　flour；　coffee；

sugar；　and　salt　was　all　they　carried。　　A　yearlin'　carcass；

half…skinned；　lay　near；　and　the　fry…pan　was；　full　of　meat。　



〃Howdy；　strangers；〃　says　I；　ridin'　up。　　



They　nodded　a　little；　but　didn't　say　nothin'。　　My　hosses　fell　to

grazin'；　and　I　eased　myself　around　in　my　saddle；　and　made　a

cigareet。　　The　men　was　tall；　lank　fellows；　with　kind　of　sullen

faces；　and　sly；　shifty　eyes；　the　woman　was　dirty　and　generally

mussed　up。　　I　knowed　that　sort　all　right。　　Texas　was　gettin'　too

many　fences　for　them。

　

〃Havin'　supper？〃　says　I；　cheerful。　　



One　of　'em　grunted　〃Yes〃　at　me；　and；　after　a　while；　the　biggest

asked　me　very　grudgin'　if　I　wouldn't　light　and　eat；　I　told　them

〃No；〃　that　I　was　travellin'　in　the　cool　of　the　evenin'。　



〃You　seem　to　have　more　meat　than　you　need；　though；〃　says　I。　　〃I

could　use　a　little　of　that。〃　　



〃Help　yourself；〃　says　they。　　〃It's　a　maverick　we　come　across。〃　　



I　took　a　steak；　and　noted　that　the　hide　had　been　mighty　well　cut

to　ribbons　around　the　flanks　and　that　the　head　was　gone。



〃Well；〃　says　I　to　the　carcass；　〃No　one's　going　to　be　able　to

swear　whether　you're　a　maverick　or　not；　but　I　bet　you　knew　the

feel　of　a　brandin'　iron　all　right。〃



I　gave　them　a　thank…you；　and　climbed　on　again。　　My　hosses　acted

some　surprised　at　bein'　gathered　up　again；　but　I　c