lla.theburninghills-第13章

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nt　lava　flow。　The　spaces　between　the　cacti　and　the　fallen　black　chunks　of　kva　were　crowded　with　brittle　bush。
　For　what　must　have　been　six　or　seven　miles　they　inched　their　way　through　this　barrier；　at　times　at　a　loss　as　to　how　to　go　forward；　then；　mounting　a　hill　amid　a　thick　forest　of　cholla；　they　suddenly　looked　into　a　ravine　that　was　startlingly　and　incredibly　lovely。
　Below　them　was　water。　Not　a　little　water　but　a　large　clear　pool　surrounded　by　jutting　kva。　Shading　the　pool　were　sycamore；　ash；　willow　and　buckthorn。　And　down　near　the　edge　of　the　pool　were　several　small　open　places　where　they　could　see　the　remains　of　old　fires。
　Dismounting；　Jordan　led　the　way　down　the　steep　path　to　the　water's　edge。　Following　along　the　shore　under　an　overhang　of　lava　they　came　to　a　small　clearing　among　the　trees；　pletely　shaded　and　masked　from　view　by　a　curtain　of　willows。　Here　they　stopped。　With　almost　the　last　of　his　strength　Jordan　stripped　the　saddle　from　the　red　horse　and　put　him　on　a　picket　rope。
　Then　without　a　word　he　stretched　out　and　went　immediately　to　sleep；　a　sleep　through　which　horses　raced　and　guns　barked　and　where　he　was　endlessly　falling　over　blocks　of　lava　into　acres　of　cholla。
　When　he　awakened　it　was　dark　and　cold　but　a　blanket　had　been　thrown　over　him。　Faintly　he　smelled　a　wood　fire。　He　rolled　over　and　sat　up。
　〃There　is　food；〃　Maria　Cristina　spoke　from　die　shadows。　〃By　the　fire。〃
　He　stumbled　to　the　edge　of　the　pool　and　bathed　himself；　mopping　his　face　and　body　dry　with　his　shirt。　Wrapping　himself　in　a　blanket；　he　went　to　the　fire。
　There　was　a　pot　of　stew　and　he　ate　hungrily；　then　ate　from　a　stick　of　tortillas。　Then　he　sat　down；　looking　at　the　moonlight's　reflection　on　the　dark　water；　listening　to　the　night　sounds　and　drinking　coffee。
　〃Suppose　Lantz　knows　this　place？〃　he　asked。
　〃Who　knows？〃
　She　was　silent　for　a　time。　〃He　is　a　devil　。。。　but　not　so　bad　as　the　rest。〃
　They　needed　rest；　the　horse　needed　rest。　To　go　on　in　the　night　was　out　of　ihe　question。　They　would　just　take　a　chance。　They　must　stay。
　〃My　father　。。。　he　knew　of　this　place。　It　is　a　place　of　ihe　Indies；　of　the　Apaches。　They　e　here　to　make　talk　…　but　not　often；　I　think。〃
　He　got　up　stiffly；　every　muscle　plaining；　and　going　to　his　saddle　he　got　his　bed　roll。　He　spread　out　his　blankets　and　took　off　his　boots。
　When　he　had　stretched　out　he　said；　〃I　am　sorry　about　your　face。〃
　〃It　is　nothing。〃
　〃The　man　I　killed？〃
　〃Si　。。。　Jack　Sutton。〃
　He　drew　the　blanket　about　his　shoulders　and　settled　down　to　rest。　Once；　lifting　his　head；　he　glanced　around。　She　sat　unmoved　and　unmoving；　her　profile　etched　sharply　against　the　sky　beyond　the　lake。　He　started　to　speak；　then　changed　his　mind　and　lay　down。　In　a　moment　he　was　breathing　deeply　and　steadily。
　Maria　Cristina　hunched　the　blanket　around　her　shoulders　and　looked　at　the　water。　She　said　nothing；　she　thought　nothing；　she　was　at　this　moment　an　Indian；　at　one　with　her　world。
　Fifteen　miles　back；　huddled　under　an　escarpment　of　sandstone；　Hindeman　and　his　men　made　dry　camp。　It　had　been　a　day　of　defeat；　of　heat；　dust　and　cacti。
　At　dawn　they　had　found　Jack　Sutton。　He　had　been　shot　dead　and　it　had　been　good　shooting。　His　gun；　unfired；　lay　near　his　hand。　Looking　down　at　the　body；　Buck　Bayless　felt　a　moment　of　shock；　of　near　terror。　What　kind　of　a　man　was　Jordan？
　Wounded　unto　death；　he　escaped。　Days　later　he　came　from　hiding　and　left　not　a　ghost　of　a　trail　and　now　he　had　slain　Jack　Sutton。　Buck　Bayless　felt　his　courage　draining　from　him。　He　felt　sick　and　whipped。
　Wes　Parker　touched　his　tongue　to　his　lips　and　stole　a　careful　look　at　Hindeman。　Yet　he　knew　Hindeman　would　go　on。　It　was　a　trait　of　Hindeman's　that　he　had　admired。　Now　he　cursed　it
　Ben　Hindeman　could　feel　no　remorse。　Sooner　or　later　he　would　have　had　to　kill　Jack　Sutton　himself　or　be　killed。　Now　the　man　was　dead；　finished。　〃Woman　crazy〃　he　said　aloud。　〃If　he　left　her　alone；　he'd　be　alive。〃
　〃She's　a　curse；〃　Buck　Bayless　said　resentfully。　〃Shell　be　the　death　of　us　all。　Let　her　go；　I　say；　and　good　riddance。〃
　Ben　Hindeman　was　angrily　impatient　〃We　can　let　her　go；〃　he　said；　〃but　we　can't　let　him　go。　If　one　man　can　wipe　his　feet　on　the　Sutton…Bayless　outfit；　we　won't　last　out　the　year。　We　kill　him　or　we　all　go。〃
　He　swung　a　wide　arm　at　the　country。　〃There's　fifty　outfits　in　Arizona　and　New　Mexico　who　want　our　graze。　There's　two　or　three　mighty　near　strong　enough　to　do　it。　Like　John　Slaughter。。。　that's　why　I　kept　Jack　and　Mort　from　going　that　way。〃
　They　were　still　there　when　Mort　Bayless　came　in　with　four　men。　These　were　the　tough　ones；　the　men　with　a　reason　to　want　Trace　Jordan　dead。　Mort　Bayless　had　used　an　argument　they　could　understand。　〃We　got　him　runnin'；〃　he　said。　〃You　think　he'll　let　up　if　we　quit？　Not　by　a　damn　sightl
　〃He'll　bide　his　time　an'　he'll　e　back。　Folks　will　talk；　he'll　know　who　got　his　horses。　He'll　hunt　down　every　man…jack　of　us；　you'll　see！〃
　He　knew　men…fears　because　he　knew　his　own。　This　was　a　danger　they　understood。　Jordan　was　a　tough　man　and　they　had　been　fools　to　listen　to　Jack　Sutton。　Beside　the　fire　they　hunkered　down　and　made　war　talk。
　〃Where'll　they　go？〃　Hindeman　asked　Lantz。
　The　old　man　spat　into　the　fire。　〃No　tellin'。　With　the　Mex　gal　we　could　figure　some　but　Jordan's　taken　the　lead　now　an'　he　knows　where　he's　goin'。　This　here　desert　is　out　of　my　knowin'。　Might　be　a　sight　of　places　around　if　a　body　knew　'em。〃
　He　took　a　pull　at　the　coffee。　〃You　been　thinkin'；　Ben？　This　here's　Apache　country。　We　get　caught　down　here　an'　we're　in　genuine　trouble。〃
　〃No　matter。　We'll　find　him。〃
　〃Worse'n　huntin'　a　needle　in　a　haystack；〃　Buck　Bayless　plained。　〃We'd　have　to　hunt　up　every　canyon。　Take　us　ten　year。〃
　〃Hadn't　better；〃　Ben　Hindeman　replied　dryly。　〃Your　wife　will　forget　you　in　that　time。〃
　Wes　Parker　lifted　himself　to　an　elbow。　〃I'm　goin'　back。　I'm　catchin'　me　that　Mex　kid。　If　that　gal　knows　a　hideout　down　here；　that　kid　should　know。〃
　Ben　Hindeman　considered　that。　He　did　not　like　to　have　anyone　abused　but　the　situation　was　getting　out　of　hand。　They　were　losing　time　and　the　ranch　needed　them。　All　had　work　that　needed　doing。　Moreover；　for　the　first　time　he　was　finding　an　element　of　doubt。　The　increased　caution　of　Lantz　was　part　of　it。
　〃All　right；　Wes。　Take　Buck　with　you。　Maybe　he'll　be　better　huntin'a　Mex　than　a　man。〃
　〃Aw；　Ben！〃　Buck　protested　plaintively。　〃That　ain't　no　…〃
　〃Shut　up！〃　Ben　was　exasperated。　〃Jake；　you　do　something　about　where　they　might　go。　Meanwhile　we'll　get　some　sleep。〃
　Lantz　spat　out　his　chewing。　〃Better　set　guards　〃　he　said；　〃them　broncho　Apaches　might　want　to　collect　some　horses。〃
　Buck　Bayless　retired　to　his　blankets　vastly　satisfied。　What　he　wanted　was　less　alkali　and　more　beer。　To　hell　with　Jordan！
　Before　daybreak　Trace　Jordan　crawled　from　his　blankets　into　the　pre…dawn　chill。　He　slung　his　gun　belts　across　his　hips；　then　pulled　on　his　boots。　The　fire　had　died　to　thin　gray　ashes；　so　he　gathered　a　few　dried　leaves　from　under　the　trees　and　some　dried…out　branches　of　the　curl…leaf；　which　makes　no　smoke。
　Maria　Cristina　lay　huddled　in　her　blankets　where　he　had　last　seen　her；　so　he　broke　sticks　quietly　and　fed　them　into　the　flames。　He　dipped　water　from　the　lake　and　placed　the　coffee　pot　on　a　stone　by　the　fire　to　grow　hot。
　This　place　was　well　hidden。　It　was　surrounded　by　a　Jungle　of　cholla；　sometimes　called　jumping　cactus；　one　of　the　most　vicious　of　all　the　desert's　plants。　There　were　cat…claw；　organ　pipe　and　a　few　barrel　cacti。
　Finding　a　way　through　the　maze　would　not　be　easy。　He　had　stumbled　upon　it　himself　and　even　that　trail　had　been　difficult　to　follow。
　When　breakfast　was　ready　he　went　to　her　and　bent　over　to　awaken　her；　yet　even　as　he　stooped；　her　eyes　opened　suddenly；　dark　and　beautiful；　ringed　with　black　lashes。　Her　expression　was；　at　that　moment；　unreadable。　He　started　to　reach　for　her；　then　drew　back。　〃Got　some　coffee　ready；〃　he　said。
　Their　eyes　held　for　a　long　moment　and　then　she　said；　〃All　right。　I　e。〃
　Birds　whistled　and　talked　in　the　brush　and　the　morning　air　was　fresh　and　cool。　He　could　smell　the　faint　scent　of　ironwood　in　bloom　but　doubted　his　senses；　for　the　season　was　late。　Yet　many　desert　plants　bloomed　according　to　rainfall　and　with　small　regard　for　seasons。
　Maria　Cristina　came　to　the　fire　and　accepted　coffee　from　him。　Her　face　was　somber；　and　she　stood；　feet　apart；　holding　the　cup　in　both　hands。　〃It　is　quiet；〃　she　said　suddenly。　〃Yes　。。。　I　like　it　here。〃
　She　drank　her　coffee；　then　ate。　He　gathered　more　firewood　and　then　walked　back　up　the　trail　to　study　the　approaches　by　daylight。　Only　two　or　three　places　offered　access　to　the　water　and　all　were　in　full　view　of　their　camp　site。
　From　the　top　of　the　knoll　he　studied　the　surroundings。　There　was　a　nearby　mesa　that　offered　danger　but　few　approaches　through　the　cactus　barrier。　At　the　top　of　the　knoll　in　a　place　he　could　work　without　being　seen　he　assembled　a　few　rocks　into　a　low　barrier。
　There　was　grass　for　the　horse　and　they　had　food　for　several　days。　They　could　wait
　Maria　Cristina　had　washed　their　few　dishes　and　had　hot　water　on　when　he　returned。　She　was　putting　creosote　leaves　into　the　water　and　when　they　had　steeped　for　some　time　she　bathed　her　bruised　face　in　the　water。
　All　day　long　they　rested；　sleeping　much　of　the　time。　Occasionally；　from　the　top　of　the　knoll；　Jordan　made　a　reconnaissance　of　the　country　around；　always　keeping　himself　under　cover。　He　could　see　but　a　short　distance　and　in　that　distance　there　was　nothing　alive　but　the　birds；　who　seemed　very　busy　among　the　cacti。　Without　doubt　the　Sutton…Bayless　riders　were　somewhere　around。　By　this　time　they　should　be　closing　in。　The　thought　increased　his　restlessness　but　there　would　be　nowhere　that　would　offer　them　more　than　they　had　at　present。
　Maria　Cristina　bathed　her　bruised　face　several　times　and　in　the　late　afternoon　went　into　the　thicket　to　find　herbs　that　could　be　eaten　to　fill　out　their　slender　supply　of　food。
　At　dusk　Trace　Jordan　took　his　Winchester　and　worked　his　way　to　the　top　of　the　mesa　where　he　sat　for　a　long　time；　studying　the　country。　From　there　he　could　see　for　miles　in　all　directions；　yet　it　was　not　until　he　started　to　get　up　to　return　that　he　caught　sight　of　the　distant　spot　of　red。
　Far　beyond　the　limits　of　the　cholla　forest；　it　was　without　doubt　a　campfire。　And　it　would　be　ten　or　twelve　miles　away。　Catching　the　last　of　the　fading　light；　he　worked　his　way　back　down　the　mesa　to　the　oasis。
　〃They're　out　there；〃　he　said。
　〃We　stay？〃
　〃If　we　don't　move　we　won't　make　tracks。〃
　They　did　not　have　to　worry　about　their　own　fire。　He　knew　the　distance　a　blaze　can　be　seen　at　night　but　their　own　camp　was　so　deep　in　the　canyon　and　so　well　surrounded　by　trees　and　brush　that　it　could　not　be　seen　fifty　yards　off。　Their　best　chance　was　to　sit　tight
　She　sat　close　by　the　fire；　its　light　touching　her　somber　face。　Some　of　the　swelling　had　gone　and　the　bruises　were　changing　color。　Yet　now　she　looked　remote；　lonely。
　〃What　will　you　do？〃　he　asked　suddenly。　〃You　cannot　go　back。〃
　She　shrugged。
　〃Stay　with　me。〃
　She　looked　up；　her　eyes　flashing；　almost　angry。　〃With　you？　For　why？　Why　I　go　with　you？〃
　〃You're　my　woman；　Maria　Cristina。〃
　〃I　am　nobody's　woman。〃
　〃You're　my　woman。