the last of the plainsmen-第26节

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he　rocks；　waiting　with　uplifted　ax。　A　shaggy；　white　demon；　snapping　his　jaws；　sprang　like　a　dog。　A　sodden；　thudding　blow　met　him　and　he　slunk　away　without　a　cry。　Another　rabid　beast　launched　his　white　body　at　the　giant。　Like　a　flash　the　ax　descended。　In　agony　the　wolf　fell；　to　spin　round　and　round；　running　on　his　hind　legs；　while　his　head　and　shoulders　and　forelegs　remained　in　the　snow。　His　back　was　broken。

Jones　crouched　in　the　opening　of　the　tepee；　knife　in　hand。　He　doubted　his　senses。　This　was　a　nightmare。　He　saw　two　wolves　leap　at　once。　He　heard　the　crash　of　the　ax；　he　saw　one　wolf　go　down　and　the　other　slip　under　the　swinging　weapon　to　grasp　the　giant's　hip。　Jones's　heard　the　rend　of　cloth；　and　then　he　pounced　like　a　cat；　to　drive　his　knife　into　the　body　of　the　beast。　Another　nimble　foe　lunged　at　Rea；　to　sprawl　broken　and　limp　from　the　iron。　It　was　a　silent　fight。　The　giant　shut　the　way　to　his　comrade　and　the　calves；　he　made　no　outcry；　he　needed　but　one　blow　for　every　beast；　magnificent；　he　wielded　death　and　faced　itsilent。　He　brought　the　white　wild　dogs　of　the　north　down　with　lightning　blows；　and　when　no　more　sprang　to　the　attack；　down　on　the　frigid　silence　he　rolled　his　cry：　〃Ho！　Ho！〃

〃Rea！　Rea！　how　is　it　with　you？〃　called　Jones；　climbing　out。

〃A　torn　coatno　more；　my　lad。〃

Three　of　the　poor　dogs　were　dead；　the　fourth　and　last　gasped　at　the　hunters　and　died。

The　wintry　night　became　a　thing　of　half…conscious　past；　a　dream　to　the　hunters；　manifesting　its　reality　only　by　the　stark；　stiff　bodies　of　wolves；　white　in　the　gray　morning。

〃If　we　can　eat；　we'll　make　the　cabin；〃　said　Rea。　〃But　the　dogs　an'　wolves　are　poison。〃

〃Shall　I　kill　a　calf？　〃Asked　Jones。

〃Ho！　Ho！　when　hell　freezes　overif　we　must！〃

Jones　found　one　45…90　cartridge　in　all　the　outfit；　and　with　that　in　the　chamber　of　his　rifle；　once　more　struck　south。　Spruce　trees　began　to　show　on　the　barrens　and　caribou　trails　roused　hope　in　the　hearts　of　the　hunters。

〃Look　in　the　spruces；〃　whispered　Jones；　dropping　the　rope　of　his　sled。　Among　the　black　trees　gray　objects　moved。

〃Caribou！〃　said　Rea。　〃Hurry！　Shoot！　Don't　miss！〃

But　Jones　waited。　He　knew　the　value　of　the　last　bullet。　He　had　a　hunter's　patience。　When　the　caribou　came　out　in　an　open　space；　Jones　whistled。　It　was　then　the　rifle　grew　set　and　fixed；　it　was　then　the　red　fire　belched　forth。

At　four　hundred　yards　the　bullet　took　some　fraction　of　time　to　strike。　What　a　long　time　that　was！　Then　both　hunters　heard　the　spiteful　spat　of　the　lead。　The　caribou　fell；　jumped　up；　ran　down　the　slope；　and　fell　again　to　rise　no　more。

An　hour　of　rest；　with　fire　and　meat；　changed　the　world　to　the　hunters；　still　glistening；　it　yet　had　lost　its　bitter　cold　its　deathlike　clutch。

〃What's　this？〃　cried　Jones。

Moccasin　tracks　of　different　sizes；　all　toeing　north；　arrested　the　hunters。

〃Pointed　north！　Wonder　what　thet　means？〃　Rea　plodded　on；　doubtfully　shaking　his　head。

Night　again；　clear；　cold；　silver；　starlit；　silent　night！　The　hunters　rested；　listening　ever　for　the　haunting　mourn。　Day　again；　white；　passionless；　monotonous；　silent　day。　The　hunters　traveled　ononon；　ever　listening　for　the　haunting　mourn。

Another　dusk　found　them　within　thirty　miles　of　their　cabin。　Only　one　more　day　now。

Rea　talked　of　his　furs；　of　the　splendid　white　furs　he　could　not　bring。　Jones　talked　of　his　little　muskoxen　calves　and　joyfully　watched　them　dig　for　moss　in　the　snow。

Vigilance　relaxed　that　night。　Outworn　nature　rebelled；　and　both　hunters　slept。

Rea　awoke　first；　and　kicking　off　the　blankets；　went　out。　His　terrible　roar　of　rage　made　Jones　fly　to　his　side。

Under　the　very　shadow　of　the　tepee；　where　the　little　musk…oxen　had　been　tethered；　they　lay　stretched　out　pathetically　on　crimson　snowstiff　stone…cold；　dead。　Moccasin　tracks　told　the　story　of　the　tragedy。

Jones　leaned　against　his　comrade。

The　giant　raised　his　huge　fist。

〃Jackoway　out　of　wood！　Jackoway　out　of　wood！〃

Then　he　choked。

The　north　wind；　blowing　through　the　thin；　dark；　weird　spruce　trees；　moaned　and　seemed　to　sigh；　〃Naza！　Naza！　Naza！〃



CHAPTER　11。　ON　TO　THE　SIWASH

〃Who　all　was　doin'　the　talkin'　last　night？〃　asked　Frank　next　morning；　when　we　were　having　a　late　breakfast。　〃Cause　I've　a　joke　on　somebody。　Jim　he　talks　in　his　sleep　often；　an'　last　night　after　you　did　finally　get　settled　down；　Jim　he　up　in　his　sleep　an'　says：　'Shore　he's　windy　as　hell！　Shore　he's　windy　as　hell'！〃

At　this　cruel　exposure　of　his　subjective　wanderings；　Jim　showed　extreme　humiliation；　but　Frank's　eyes　fairly　snapped　with　the　fun　he　got　out　of　telling　it。　The　genial　foreman　loved　a　joke。　The　week's　stay　at　Oak；　in　which　we　all　became　thoroughly　acquainted；　had　presented　Jim　as　always　the　same　quiet　character；　easy；　slow；　silent；　lovable。　In　his　brother　cowboy；　however；　we　had　discovered　in　addition　to　his　fine；　frank；　friendly　spirit；　an　overwhelming　fondness　for　playing　tricks。　This　boyish　mischievousness；　distinctly　Arizonian；　reached　its　acme　whenever　it　tended　in　the　direction　of　our　serious　leader。

Lawson　had　been　dispatched　on　some　mysterious　errand　about　which　my　curiosity　was　all　in　vain。　The　order　of　the　day　was　leisurely　to　get　in　readiness；　and　pack　for　our　journey　to　the　Siwash　on　the　morrow。　I　watered　my　horse；　played　with　the　hounds；　knocked　about　the　cliffs；　returned　to　the　cabin；　and　lay　down　on　my　bed。　Jim's　hands　were　white　with　flour。　He　was　kneading　dough；　and　had　several　low；　flat　pans　on　the　table。　Wallace　and　Jones　strolled　in；　and　later　Frank；　and　they　all　took　various　positions　before　the　fire。　I　saw　Frank；　with　the　quickness　of　a　sleight…of…hand　performer；　slip　one　of　the　pans　of　dough　on　the　chair　Jones　had　placed　by　the　table。　Jim　did　not　see　the　action；　Jones's　and　Wallace's　backs　were　turned　to　Frank；　and　he　did　not　know　I　was　in　the　cabin。　The　conversation　continued　on　the　subject　of　Jones's　big　bay　horse；　which；　hobbles　and　all；　had　gotten　ten　miles　from　camp　the　night　before。

〃Better　count　his　ribs　than　his　tracks；〃　said　Frank；　and　went　on　talking　as　easily　and　naturally　as　if　he　had　not　been　expecting　a　very　entertaining　situation。

But　no　one　could　ever　foretell　Colonel　Jones's　actions。　He　showed　every　intention　of　seating　himself　in　the　chair；　then　walked　over　to　his　pack　to　begin　searching　for　something　or　other。　Wallace；　however；　promptly　took　the　seat；　and　what　began　to　be　funnier　than　strange；　he　did　not　get　up。　Not　unlikely　this　circumstance　was　owing　to　the　fact　that　several　of　the　rude　chairs　had　soft　layers　of　old　blanket　tacked　on　them。　Whatever　were　Frank's　internal　emotions；　he　presented　a　remarkably　placid　and　commonplace　exterior；　but　when　Jim　began　to　search　for　the　missing　pan　of　dough；　the　joker　slowly　sagged　in　his　chair。

〃Shore　that　beats　hell！〃　said　Jim。　〃I　had　three　pans　of　dough。　Could　the　pup　have　taken　one？〃

Wallace　rose　to　his　feet；　and　the　bread　pan　clattered　to　the　floor；　with　a　clang　and　a　clank；　evidently　protesting　against　the　indignity　it　had　suffered。　But　the　dough　stayed　with　Wallace；　a　great　white　conspicuous　splotch　on　his　corduroys。　Jim；　Frank　and　Jones　all　saw　it　at　once。

〃WhyMr。　Wallaceyou　setin　the　dough！〃　exclaimed　Frank；　in　a　queer；　strangled　voice。　Then　he　exploded；　while　Jim　fell　over　the　table。

It　seemed　that　those　two　Arizona　rangers；　matured　men　though　they　were；　would　die　of　convulsions。　I　laughed　with　them；　and　so　did　Wallace；　while　he　brought　his　one…handled　bowie　knife　into　novel　use。　Buffalo　Jones　never　cracked　a　smile；　though　he　did　remark　about　the　waste　of　good　flour。

Frank's　face　was　a　study　for　a　psychologist　when　Jim　actually　apologized　to　Wallace　for　being　so　careless　with　his　pans。　I　did　not　betray　Frank；　but　I　resolved　to　keep　a　still　closer　watch　on　him。　It　was　partially　because　of　this　uneasy　sense　of　his　trickiness　in　the　fringe　of　my　mind　that　I　made　a　discovery。　My　sleeping…bag　rested　on　a　raised　platform　in　one　corner；　and　at　a　favorable　moment　I　examined　the　bag。　It　had　not　been　tampered　with；　but　I　noticed　a　string　turning　out　through　a　chink　between　the　logs。　I　found　it　came　from　a　thick　layer　of　straw　under　my　bed；　and　had　been　tied　to　the　end　of　a　flatly　coiled　lasso。　Leaving　the　thing　as　it　was；　I　went　outside　and　carelessly　chased　the　hounds　round　the　cabin。　The　string　stretched　along　the　logs　to　another　chink；　where　it　returned　into　the　cabin　at　a　point　near　where　Frank　slept。　No　great　power　of　deduction　was　necessary　to　acquaint　me　with　full　details　of　the　plot　to　spoil　my　slumbers。　So　I　patiently　awaited　developments。

Lawson　rode　in　near　sundown　with　the　carcasses　of　two　beasts　of　some　species　hanging　over　his　saddle。　It　turned　out　that　Jones　had　planned　a　surprise　for　Wallace　and　me；　and　it　could　hardly　have　been　a　more　enjoyable　one；　considering　the　time　and　place。　We　knew　he　had　a　flock　of　Persian　sheep　on　the　south　slope　of　Buckskin；　but　had　no　idea　it　was　within　striking　distance　of　Oak。　Lawson　had　that　day　hunted　up　the　shepherd　and　his　sheep；　to　return　to　us　with　two　sixty…pound　Persian　lambs。　We　feasted　at　suppertime　on　meat　which　was　sweet；　juicy；　very　tender　and　of　as　rare　a　flavor　as　that　of　the　Rocky　Mountain　sheep。

My　state　after　supper　was　one　of　huge　enjoyment　and　with　intense　interest　I　awaited　Frank