desert gold-第19节

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tillo。　　Each　branch　rose　high　and　symmetrical；　furnished　with　sharp　blades　that　seemed　to　be　at　once　leaves　and　thorns。　　Yet　another　cactus　interested　Gale；　and　it　looked　like　a　huge；　low　barrel　covered　with　green…ribbed　cloth　and　long　thorns。　　This　was　the　bisnaga；　or　barrel　cactus。　　According　to　Nell　and　Mercedes；　this　plant　was　a　happy　exception　to　its　desert　neighbors；　for　it　secreted　water　which　had　many　times　saved　the　lives　of　men。　　Last　of　the　cacti　to　attract　Gale；　and　the　one　to　make　him　shiver；　was　a　low　plant；　consisting　of　stem　and　many　rounded　protuberances　of　a　frosty；　steely　white；　and　covered　with　long　murderous　spikes。　From　this　plant　the　desert　got　its　frosty　glitter。　　It　was　as　stiff；　as　unyielding　as　steel；　and　bore　the　name　choya。

Dick's　enthusiasm　was　contagious；　and　his　earnest　desire　to　learn　was　flattering　to　his　teachers。　　When　it　came　to　assimilating　Spanish；　however；　he　did　not　appear　to　be　so　apt　a　pupil。　　He　managed；　after　many　trials；　to　acquire　〃buenos　dias〃　and　〃buenos　tardes；〃　and　〃senorita〃　and　〃gracias；〃　and　a　few　other　short　terms。　Dick　was　indeed　eager　to　get　a　little　smattering　of　Spanish；　and　perhaps　he　was　not　really　quite　so　stupid　as　he　pretended　to　be。　It　was　delightful　to　be　taught　by　a　beautiful　Spaniard　who　was　so　gracious　and　intense　and　magnetic　of　personality；　and　by　a　sweet　American　girl　who　moment　by　moment　forgot　her　shyness。　　Gale　wished　to　prolong　the　lessons。

So　that　was　the　beginning　of　many　afternoons　in　which　he　learned　desert　lore　and　Spanish　verbs；　and　something　else　that　he　dared　not　name。

Nell　Burton　had　never　shown　to　Gale　that　daring　side　of　her　character　which　had　been　so　suggestively　defined　in　Belding's　terse　description　and　Ladd's　encomiums；　and　in　her　own　audacious　speech　and　merry　laugh　and　flashing　eye　of　that　never…to…be…forgotten　first　meeting。　　She　might　have　been　an　entirely　different　girl。　But　Gale　remembered；　and　when　the　ice　had　been　somewhat　broken　between　them；　he　was　always　trying　to　surprise　her　into　her　real　self。　There　were　moments　that　fairly　made　him　tingle　with　expectation。　Yet　he　saw　little　more　than　a　ghost　of　her　vivacity；　and　never　a　gleam　of　that　individuality　which　Belding　had　called　a　devil。　On　the　few　occasions　that　Dick　had　been　left　alone　with　her　in　the　patio　Nell　had　grown　suddenly　unresponsive　and　restrained；　or　she　had　left　him　on　some　transparent　pretext。　On　the　last　occasion　Mercedes　returned　to　find　Dick　staring　disconsolately　at　the　rose…bordered　path；　where　Nell　had　evidently　vanished。　　The　Spanish　girl　was　wonderful　in　her　divination。

〃Senor　Dick！〃　she　cried。

Dick　looked　at　her；　soberly　nodded　his　head；　and　then　he　laughed。　Mercedes　had　seen　through　him　in　one　swift　glance。　　Her　white　hand　touched　his　in　wordless　sympathy　and　thrilled　him。　　This　Spanish　girl　was　all　fire　and　passion　and　love。　　She　understood　him；　she　was　his　friend；　she　pledged　him　what　he　felt　would　be　the　most　subtle　and　powerful　influence。

Little　by　little　he　learned　details　of　Nell's　varied　life。　　She　had　lived　in　many　places。　　As　a　child　she　remembered　moving　from　town　to　town；　of　going　to　school　among　schoolmates　whom　she　never　had　time　to　know。　　Lawrence；　Kansas；　where　she　studied　for　several　years；　was　the　later　exception　to　this　changeful　nature　of　her　schooling。　　Then　she　moved　to　Stillwater；　Oklahoma；　from　there　to　Austin；　Texas；　and　on　to　Waco；　where　her　mother　met　and　married　Belding。　　They　lived　in　New　Mexico　awhile；　in　Tucson；　Arizona；　in　Douglas；　and　finally　had　come　to　lonely　Forlorn　River。

〃Mother　could　never　live　in　one　place　any　length　of　time；〃　said　Nell。　　〃And　since　we've　been　in　the　Southwest　she　has　never　ceased　trying　to　find　some　trace　of　her　father。　　He　was　last　heard　of　in　Nogales　fourteen　years　ago。　　She　thinks　grandfather　was　lost　in　the　Sonora　Desert。。。。And　every　place　we　go　is　worse。　　Oh；　I　love　the　desert。　　But　I'd　like　to　go　back　to　Lawrenceor　to　see　Chicago　or　New　Yorksome　of　the　places　Mr。　Gale　speaks　of。。。。　I　remember　the　college　at　Lawrence；　though　I　was　only　twelve。　I　saw　racesand　once　real　football。　　Since　then　I've　read　magazines　and　papers　about　big　football　games；　and　I　was　always　fascinated　。。。。Mr。　Gale；　of　course；　you've　seen　games？

〃Yes；　a　few；〃　replied　Dick；　and　he　laughed　a　little。　　It　was　on　his　lips　then　to　tell　her　about　some　of　the　famous　games　in　which　he　had　participated。　　But　he　refrained　from　exploiting　himself。　There　was　little；　however；　of　the　color　and　sound　and　cheer；　of　the　violent　action　and　rush　and　battle　incidental　to　a　big　college　football　game　that　he　did　not　succeed　in　making　Mercedes　and　Nell　feel　just　as　if　they　had　been　there。　　They　hung　breathless　and　wide…eyed　upon　his　words。

Some　one　else　was　present　at　the　latter　part　of　Dick's　narrative。　The　moment　he　became　aware　of　Mrs。　Belding's　presence　he　remembered　fancying　he　had　heard　her　call；　and　now　he　was　certain　she　had　done　so。　　Mercedes　and　Nell；　however；　had　been　and　still　were　oblivious　to　everything　except　Dick's　recital。　　He　saw　Mrs。　Belding　cast　a　strange；　intent　glance　upon　Nell；　then　turn　and　go　silently　through　the　patio。　　Dick　concluded　his　talk；　but　the　brilliant　beginning　was　not　sustained。

Dick　was　haunted　by　the　strange　expression　he　had　caught　on　Mrs。　Belding's　face；　especially　the　look　in　her　eyes。　　It　had　been　one　of　repressed　pain　liberated　in　a　flash　of　certainty。　　The　mother　had　seen　just　as　quickly　as　Mercedes　how　far　he　had　gone　on　the　road　of　love。　　Perhaps　she　had　seen　moreeven　more　than　he　dared　hope。　　The　incident　roused　Gale。　　He　could　not　understand　Mrs。　Belding；　nor　why　that　look　of　hers；　that　seeming　baffled；　hopeless　look　of　a　woman　who　saw　the　inevitable　forces　of　life　and　could　not　thwart　them；　should　cause　him　perplexity　and　distress。　　He　wanted　to　go　to　her　and　tell　her　how　he　felt　about　Nell；　but　fear　of　absolute　destruction　of　his　hopes　held　him　back。　　He　would　wait。

Nevertheless；　an　instinct　that　was　perhaps　akin　to　self…preservation　prompted　him　to　want　to　let　Nell　know　the　state　of　his　mind。　Words　crowded　his　brain　seeking　utterance。　　Who　and　what　he　was；　how　he　loved　her；　the　work　he　expected　to　take　up　soon；　his　longings；　hopes；　and　plansthere　was　all　this　and　more。　　But　something　checked　him。　　And　the　repression　made　him　so　thoughtful　and　quiet；　even　melancholy；　that　he　went　outdoors　to　try　to　throw　off　the　mood。　The　sun　was　yet　high；　and　a　dazzling　white　light　enveloped　valleys　and　peaks。　　He　felt　that　the　wonderful　sunshine　was　the　dominant　feature　of　that　arid　region。　　It　was　like　white　gold。　　It　had　burned　its　color　in　a　face　he　knew。　　It　was　going　to　warm　his　blood　and　brown　his　skin。　　A　hot；　languid　breeze；　so　dry　that　he　felt　his　lips　shrink　with　its　contact；　came　from　the　desert；　and　it　seemed　to　smell　of　wide…open；　untainted　places　where　sand　blew　and　strange；　pungent　plants　gave　a　bitter…sweet　tang　to　the　air。

When　he　returned　to　the　house；　some　hours　later；　his　room　had　been　put　in　order。　　In　the　middle　of　the　white　coverlet　on　his　table　lay　a　fresh　red　rose。　　Nell　had　dropped　it　there。　　Dick　picked　it　up；　feeling　a　throb　in　his　breast。　　It　was　a　bud　just　beginning　to　open；　to　show　between　its　petals　a　dark…red；　unfolding　heart。　How　fragrant　it　was；　how　exquisitely　delicate；　how　beautiful　its　inner　hue　of　red；　deep　and　dark；　the　crimson　of　life　blood！

Had　Nell　left　it　there　by　accident　or　by　intent？　　Was　it　merely　kindness　or　a　girl's　subtlety？　　Was　it　a　message　couched　elusively；　a　symbol；　a　hope　in　a　half…blown　desert　rose？




VI

The　Yaqui

Toward　evening　of　a　lowering　December　day；　some　fifty　miles　west　of　Forlorn　River；　a　horseman　rode　along　an　old；　dimly　defined　trail。　From　time　to　time　he　halted　to　study　the　lay　of　the　land　ahead。　It　was　bare；　somber；　ridgy　desert；　covered　with　dun…colored　greasewood　and　stunted　prickly　pear。　　Distant　mountains　hemmed　in　the　valley；　raising　black　spurs　above　the　round　lomas　and　the　square…walled　mesas。

This　lonely　horseman　bestrode　a　steed　of　magnificent　build；　perfectly　white　except　for　a　dark　bar　of　color　running　down　the　noble　head　from　ears　to　nose。　　Sweatcaked　dust　stained　the　long　flanks。　　The　horse　had　been　running。　　His　mane　and　tail　were　laced　and　knotted　to　keep　their　length　out　of　reach　of　grasping　cactus　and　brush。　　Clumsy　home…made　leather　shields　covered　the　front　of　his　forelegs　and　ran　up　well　to　his　wide　breast。　　What　otherwise　would　have　been　muscular　symmetry　of　limb　was　marred　by　many　a　scar　and　many　a　lump。　　He　was　lean；　gaunt；　worn；　a　huge　machine　of　muscle　and　bone；　beautiful　only　in　head　and　mane；　a　weight…carrier；　a　horse　strong　and　fierce　like　the　desert　that　had　bred　him。

The　rider　fitted　the　horse　as　he　fitted　the　saddle。　　He　was　a　young　man　of　exceedingly　powerful　physique；　wide…shouldered；　long…armed；　big…legged。　　His　lean　face；　where　it　was　not　red；　blistered　and　peeling；　was　the　hue　of　bronze。　　He　had　a　dark　eye；　a　falcon　gaze；　roving　and　keen。　　His　jaw　was　prominent　and　set；　mastiff…like；　his　lips　were　stern。　　It　was　youth　with　its　softness　not　yet　quite　burned　and　hardened　away　that　kept　the　whole　cast　of　his　face　from　being　ruthless。

This　young　man　was　Dick　Gale；　but　not　the　listless　traveler；　nor　the　lounging　wanderer　who；　two　months　before；　had　by　chance　dr