the last of the plainsmen-第11节

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owls；　and　shoved　black…tipped　noses　through　the　grass。　The　sun　sank；　and　the　sky　paled　to　opal　blue。　A　star　shone　out；　then　another；　and　another。　Over　the　prairie　slanted　the　first　dark　shadow　of　night。

Suddenly　the　hunter　laid　his　ear　to　the　ground；　and　listened。　Faint　beats；　like　throbs　of　a　pulsing　heart；　shuddered　from　the　soft　turf。　Stronger　they　grew；　till　the　hunter　raised　his　head。　Dark　forms　approached；　voices　broke　the　silence；　the　creaking　of　a　wagon　scared　away　the　wolves。

〃This　way！〃　shouted　the　hunter　weakly。

〃Ha！　here　he　is。　Hurt？〃　cried　Rude；　vaulting　the　wheel。

〃Tie　up　this　calf。　How　manydid　you　find？〃　The　voice　grew　fainter。

〃Sevenalive；　and　in　good　shape；　and　all　your　clothes。〃

But　the　last　words　fell　on　unconscious　ears。



CHAPTER　4。　THE　TRAIL

〃Frank；　what'll　we　do　about　horses？〃　asked　Jones。　〃Jim'll　want　the　bay；　and　of　course　you'll　want　to　ride　Spot。　The　rest　of　our　nags　will　only　do　to　pack　the　outfit。〃

〃I've　been　thinkin'；〃　replied　the　foreman。　〃You　sure　will　need　good　mounts。　Now　it　happens　that　a　friend　of　mine　is　just　at　this　time　at　House　Rock　Valley；　an　outlyin'　post　of　one　of　the　big　Utah　ranches。　He　is　gettin'　in　the　horses　off　the　range；　an'　he　has　some　crackin'　good　ones。　Let's　ooze　over　thereit's　only　thirty　milesan'　get　some　horses　from　him。〃

We　were　all　eager　to　act　upon　Frank's　suggestion。　So　plans　were　made　for　three　of　us　to　ride　over　and　select　our　mounts。　Frank　and　Jim　would　follow　with　the　pack　train；　and　if　all　went　well；　on　the　following　evening　we　would　camp　under　the　shadow　of　Buckskin。

Early　next　morning　we　were　on　our　way。　I　tried　to　find　a　soft　place　on　Old　Baldy；　one　of　Frank's　pack　horses。　He　was　a　horse　that　would　not　have　raised　up　at　the　trumpet　of　doom。　Nothing　under　the　sun；　Frank　said；　bothered　Old　Baldy　but　the　operation　of　shoeing。　We　made　the　distance　to　the　outpost　by　noon；　and　found　Frank's　friend　a　genial　and　obliging　cowboy；　who　said　we　could　have　all　the　horses　we　wanted。

While　Jones　and　Wallace　strutted　round　the　big　corral；　which　was　full　of　vicious；　dusty；　shaggy　horses　and　mustangs；　I　sat　high　on　the　fence。　I　heard　them　talking　about　points　and　girth　and　stride；　and　a　lot　of　terms　that　I　could　not　understand。　Wallace　selected　a　heavy　sorrel；　and　Jones　a　big　bay；　very　like　Jim's。　I　had　observed；　way　over　in　the　corner　of　the　corral；　a　bunch　of　cayuses；　and　among　them　a　clean…limbed　black　horse。　Edging　round　on　the　fence　I　got　a　closer　view；　and　then　cried　out　that　I　had　found　my　horse。　I　jumped　down　and　caught　him；　much　to　my　surprise；　for　the　other　horses　were　wild；　and　had　kicked　viciously。　The　black　was　beautifully　built；　wide…chested　and　powerful；　but　not　heavy。　His　coat　glistened　like　sheeny　black　satin；　and　he　had　a　white　face　and　white　feet　and　a　long　mane。

〃I　don't　know　about　giving　you　Satanthat's　his　name；〃　said　the　cowboy。　〃The　foreman　rides　him　often。　He's　the　fastest；　the　best　climber；　and　the　best　dispositioned　horse　on　the　range。

〃But　I　guess　I　can　let　you　have　him；〃　he　continued；　when　he　saw　my　disappointed　face。

〃By　George！〃　exclaimed　Jones。　〃You've　got　it　on　us　this　time。〃

〃Would　you　like　to　trade？〃　asked　Wallace；　as　his　sorrel　tried　to　bite　him。　〃That　black　looks　sort　of　fierce。〃

I　led　my　prize　out　of　the　corral；　up　to　the　little　cabin　nearby；　where　I　tied　him；　and　proceeded　to　get　acquainted　after　a　fashion　of　my　own。　Though　not　versed　in　horse…lore；　I　knew　that　half　the　battle　was　to　win　his　confidence。　I　smoothed　his　silky　coat；　and　patted　him；　and　then　surreptitiously　slipped　a　lump　of　sugar　from　my　pocket。　This　sugar；　which　I　had　purloined　in　Flagstaff；　and　carried　all　the　way　across　the　desert；　was　somewhat　disreputably　soiled；　and　Satan　sniffed　at　it　disdainfully。　Evidently　he　had　never　smelled　or　tasted　sugar。　I　pressed　it　into　his　mouth。　He　munched　it；　and　then　looked　me　over　with　some　interest。　I　handed　him　another　lump。　He　took　it　and　rubbed　his　nose　against　me。　Satan　was　mine！

Frank　and　Jim　came　along　early　in　the　afternoon。　What　with　packing；　changing　saddles　and　shoeing　the　horses；　we　were　all　busy。　Old　Baldy　would　not　be　shod；　so　we　let　him　off　till　a　more　opportune　time。　By　four　o'clock　we　were　riding　toward　the　slopes　of　Buckskin；　now　only　a　few　miles　away；　standing　up　higher　and　darker。

〃What's　that　for？〃　inquired　Wallace；　pointing　to　a　long；　rusty；　wire…wrapped；　double…barreled　blunderbuss　of　a　shotgun；　stuck　in　the　holster　of　Jones's　saddle。

The　Colonel；　who　had　been　having　a　fine　time　with　the　impatient　and　curious　hounds；　did　not　vouchsafe　any　information　on　that　score。　But　very　shortly　we　were　destined　to　learn　the　use　of　this　incongruous　firearm。　I　was　riding　in　advance　of　Wallace；　and　a　little　behind　Jones。　The　dogsexcepting　Jude；　who　had　been　kicked　and　lamedwere　ranging　along　before　their　master。　Suddenly；　right　before　me；　I　saw　an　immense　jack…rabbit；　and　just　then　Moze　and　Don　caught　sight　of　it。　In　fact；　Moze　bumped　his　blunt　nose　into　the　rabbit。　When　it　leaped　into　scared　action；　Moze　yelped；　and　Don　followed　suit。　Then　they　were　after　it　in　wild；　clamoring　pursuit。　Jones　let　out　the　stentorian　blast；　now　becoming　familiar；　and　spurred　after　them。　He　reached　over；　pulled　the　shotgun　out　of　the　holster　and　fired　both　barrels　at　the　jumping　dogs。

I　expressed　my　amazement　in　strong　language；　and　Wallace　whistled。

Don　came　sneaking　back　with　his　tail　between　his　legs；　and　Moze；　who　had　cowered　as　if　stung；　circled　round　ahead　of　us。　Jones　finally　succeeded　in　gettin　him　back。

〃Come　in　hyah！　You　measly　rabbit　dogs！　What　do　you　mean　chasing　off　that　way？　We're　after　lions。　Lions！　understand？〃

Don　looked　thoroughly　convinced　of　his　error；　but　Moze；　being　more　thick…headed；　appeared　mystified　rather　than　hurt　or　frightened。

〃What　size　shot　do　you　use？〃　I　asked。

〃Number　ten。　They　don't　hurt　much　at　seventy　five　yards；〃　replied　our　leader。　〃I　use　them　as　sort　of　a　long　arm。　You　see；　the　dogs　must　be　made　to　know　what　we're　after。　Ordinary　means　would　never　do　in　a　case　like　this。　My　idea　is　to　break　them　of　coyotes；　wolves　and　deer；　and　when　we　cross　a　lion　trail；　let　them　go。　I'll　teach　them　sooner　than　you'd　think。　Only　we　must　get　where　we　can　see　what　they're　trailing。　Then　I　can　tell　whether　to　call　then　back　or　not。〃

The　sun　was　gilding　the　rim　of　the　desert　rampart　when　we　began　the　ascent　of　the　foothills　of　Buckskin。　A　steep　trail　wound　zigzag　up　the　mountain　We　led　our　horses；　as　it　was　a　long；　hard　climb。　From　time　to　time；　as　I　stopped　to　catch　my　breath　I　gazed　away　across　the　growing　void　to　the　gorgeous　Pink　Cliffs；　far　above　and　beyond　the　red　wall　which　had　seemed　so　high；　and　then　out　toward　the　desert。　The　irregular　ragged　crack　in　the　plain；　apparently　only　a　thread　of　broken　ground；　was　the　Grand　Canyon。　How　unutterably　remote；　wild；　grand　was　that　world　of　red　and　brown；　of　purple　pall；　of　vague　outline！

Two　thousand　feet；　probably；　we　mounted　to　what　Frank　called　Little　Buckskin。　In　the　west　a　copper　glow；　ridged　with　lead…colored　clouds；　marked　where　the　sun　had　set。　The　air　was　very　thin　and　icy　cold。　At　the　first　clump　of　pinyon　pines；　we　made　dry　camp。　When　I　sat　down　it　was　as　if　I　had　been　anchored。　Frank　solicitously　remarked　that　I　looked　〃sort　of　beat。〃　Jim　built　a　roaring　fire　and　began　getting　supper。　A　snow　squall　came　on　the　rushing　wind。　The　air　grew　colder；　and　though　I　hugged　the　fire；　I　could　not　get　warm。　When　I　had　satisfied　my　hunger；　I　rolled　out　my　sleeping…bag　and　crept　into　it。　I　stretched　my　aching　limbs　and　did　not　move　again。　Once　I　awoke；　drowsily　feeling　the　warmth　of　the　fire；　and　I　heard　Frank　say：　〃He's　asleep；　dead　to　the　world！〃

〃He's　all　in；〃　said　Jones。　〃Riding's　what　did　it　You　know　how　a　horse　tears　a　man　to　pieces。〃

〃Will　he　be　able　to　stand　it？〃　asked　Frank；　with　as　much　solicitude　as　if　he　were　my　brother。　〃When　you　get　out　after　anythin'well；　you're　hell。　An'　think　of　the　country　we're　goin'　into。　I　know　you've　never　seen　the　breaks　of　the　Siwash；　but　I　have；　an'　it's　the　worst　an'　roughest　country　I　ever　saw。　Breaks　after　breaks；　like　the　ridges　on　a　washboard；　headin'　on　the　south　slope　of　Buckskin；　an'　runnin'　down；　side　by　side；　miles　an'　miles；　deeper　an'　deeper；　till　they　run　into　that　awful　hole。　It　will　be　a　killin'　trip　on　men；　horses　an'　dogs。　Now；　Mr。　Wallace；　he's　been　campin'　an'　roughin'　with　the　Navajos　for　months；　he's　in　some　kind　of　shape；　but〃

Frank　concluded　his　remark　with　a　doubtful　pause。

〃I'm　some　worried；　too；〃　replied　Jones。　〃But　he　would　come。　He　stood　the　desert　well　enough；　even　the　Mormons　said　that。〃

In　the　ensuing　silence　the　fire　sputtered；　the　glare　fitfully　merged　into　dark　shadows　under　the　weird　pinyons；　and　the　wind　moaned　through　the　short　branches。

〃Wal；〃　drawled　a　slow；　soft　voice；　〃shore　I　reckon　you're　hollerin'　too　soon。　Frank's　measly　trick　puttin'　him　on　Spot　showed　me。　He　rode　out　on　Spot；　an'　he　rode　in　on　Spot。　Shore　he'll　stay。〃

It　was　not　all　the　warmth　of　the　blankets　that　glowed　over　me　then。　The　voices　died　away　dreamily；　and　my　eyelids　dropped　sleepily　tight。　Late　in　the　night　I　sat　up　suddenly；　roused　by　some　unusual　disturbance。　The　fire　was　dead；　the　wind　swept　with　a　rush　through　the　pinyons。　From　the　bl