the last of the plainsmen-第13章

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hale；　no　crumbled　piles　of　stone　obstructed　its　level　floor。　And；　softly　toning　its　drab　austerity；　here　grew　the　white　sage；　waving　in　the　breeze；　the　Indian　Paint　Brush；　with　vivid　vermilion　flower；　and　patches　of　fresh；　green　grass。

〃The　White　King；　as　we　Arizona　wild…hoss　wranglers　calls　this　mustang；　is　mighty　pertickler　about　his　feed；　an'　he　ranged　along　here　last　night；　easy　like；　browsin'　on　this　white　sage；〃　said　Stewart。　Inflected　by　our　intense　interest　in　the　famous　mustang；　and　ruffled　slightly　by　Jones's　manifest　surprise　and　contempt　that　no　one　had　captured　him；　Stewart　had　volunteered　to　guide　us。　〃Never　knowed　him　to　run　in　this　way　fer　water；　fact　is；　never　knowed　Nail　Canyon　had　a　fork。　It　splits　down　here；　but　you'd　think　it　was　only　a　crack　in　the　wall。　An'　thet　cunnin'　mustang　hes　been　foolin'　us　fer　years　about　this　water…hole。〃

The　fork　of　Nail　Canyon；　which　Stewart　had　decided　we　were　in；　had　been　accidentally　discovered　by　Frank；　who；　in　search　of　our　horses　one　morning　had　crossed　a　ridge；　to　come　suddenly　upon　the　blind；　box…like　head　of　the　canyon。　Stewart　knew　the　lay　of　the　ridges　and　run　of　the　canyons　as　well　as　any　man　could　know　a　country　where；　seemingly；　every　rod　was　ridged　and　bisected；　and　he　was　of　the　opinion　that　we　had　stumbled　upon　one　of　the　White　Mustang's　secret　passages；　by　which　he　had　so　often　eluded　his　pursuers。

Hard　riding　had　been　the　order　of　the　day；　but　still　we　covered　ten　more　miles　by　sundown。　The　canyon　apparently　closed　in　on　us；　so　camp　was　made　for　the　night。　The　horses　were　staked　out；　and　supper　made　ready　while　the　shadows　were　dropping；　and　when　darkness　settled　thick　over　us；　we　lay　under　our　blankets。

Morning　disclosed　the　White　Mustang's　secret　passage。　It　was　a　narrow　cleft；　splitting　the　canyon　wall；　rough；　uneven；　tortuous　and　choked　with　fallen　rocksno　more　than　a　wonderful　crack　in　solid　stone；　opening　into　another　canyon。　Above　us　the　sky　seemed　a　winding；　flowing　stream　of　blue。　The　walls　were　so　close　in　places　that　a　horse　with　pack　would　have　been　blocked；　and　a　rider　had　to　pull　his　legs　up　over　the　saddle。　On　the　far　side；　the　passage　fell　very　suddenly　for　several　hundred　feet　to　the　floor　of　the　other　canyon。　No　hunter　could　have　seen　it；　or　suspected　it　from　that　side。

〃This　is　Grand　Canyon　country；　an'　nobody　knows　what　he's　goin'　to　find；〃　was　Frank's　comment。

〃Now　we're　in　Nail　Canyon　proper；〃　said　Stewart；　〃An'　I　know　my　bearin's。　I　can　climb　out　a　mile　below　an'　cut　across　to　Kanab　Canyon；　an'　slip　up　into　Nail　Canyon　agin；　ahead　of　the　mustangs；　an'　drive　'em　up。　I　can't　miss　'em；　fer　Kanab　Canyon　is　impassable　down　a　little　ways。　The　mustangs　will　hev　to　run　this　way。　So　all　you　need　do　is　go　below　the　break；　where　I　climb　out；　an'　wait。　You're　sure　goin'　to　get　a　look　at　the　White　Mustang。　But　wait。　Don't　expect　him　before　noon；　an'　after　thet；　any　time　till　he　comes。　Mebbe　it'll　be　a　couple　of　days；　so　keep　a　good　watch。〃

Then　taking　our　man　Lawson；　with　blankets　and　a　knapsack　of　food；　Stewart　rode　off　down　the　canyon。

We　were　early　on　the　march。　As　we　proceeded　the　canyon　lost　its　regularity　and　smoothness；　it　became　crooked　as　a　rail　fence；　narrower；　higher；　rugged　and　broken。　Pinnacled　cliffs；　cracked　and　leaning；　menaced　us　from　above。　Mountains　of　ruined　wall　had　tumbled　into　fragments。

It　seemed　that　Jones；　after　much　survey　of　different　corners；　angles　and　points　in　the　canyon　floor；　chose　his　position　with　much　greater　care　than　appeared　necessary　for　the　ultimate　success　of　our　venturewhich　was　simply　to　see　the　White　Mustang；　and　if　good　fortune　attended　us；　to　snap　some　photographs　of　this　wild　king　of　horses。　It　flashed　over　me　that；　with　his　ruling　passion　strong　within　him；　our　leader　was　laying　some　kind　of　trap　for　that　mustang；　was　indeed　bent　on　his　capture。

Wallace；　Frank　and　Jim　were　stationed　at　a　point　below　the　break　where　Stewart　had　evidently　gone　up　and　out。　How　a　horse　could　have　climbed　that　streaky　white　slide　was　a　mystery。　Jones's　instructions　to　the　men　were　to　wait　until　the　mustangs　were　close　upon　them；　and　then　yell　and　shout　and　show　themselves。

He　took　me　to　a　jutting　corner　of　cliff；　which　hid　us　from　the　others；　and　here　he　exercised　still　more　care　in　scrutinizing　the　lay　of　the　ground。　A　wash　from　ten　to　fifteen　feet　wide；　and　as　deep；　ran　through　the　canyon　in　a　somewhat　meandering　course。　At　the　corner　which　consumed　so　much　of　his　attention；　the　dry　ditch　ran　along　the　cliff　wall　about　fifty　feet　out；　between　it　and　the　wall　was　good　level　ground；　on　the　other　side　huge　rocks　and　shale　made　it　hummocky；　practically　impassable　for　a　horse。　It　was　plain　the　mustangs；　on　their　way　up；　would　choose　the　inside　of　the　wash；　and　here　in　the　middle　of　the　passage；　just　round　the　jutting　corner；　Jones　tied　our　horses　to　good；　strong　bushes。　His　next　act　was　significant。　He　threw　out　his　lasso　and；　dragging　every　crook　out　of　it；　carefully　recoiled　it；　and　hung　it　loose　over　the　pommel　of　his　saddle。

〃The　White　Mustang　may　be　yours　before　dark；〃　he　said　with　the　smile　that　came　so　seldom。　〃Now　I　placed　our　horses　there　for　two　reasons。　The　mustangs　won't　see　them　till　they're　right　on　them。　Then　you'll　see　a　sight　and　have　a　chance　for　a　great　picture。　They　will　halt；　the　stallion　will　prance；　whistle　and　snort　for　a　fight；　and　then　they'll　see　the　saddles　and　be　off。　We'll　hide　across　the　wash；　down　a　little　way；　and　at　the　right　time　we'll　shout　and　yell　to　drive　them　up。〃

By　piling　sagebrush　round　a　stone；　we　made　a　hiding…place。　Jones　was　extremely　cautious　to　arrange　the　bunches　in　natural　positions。　〃A　Rocky　Mountain　Big　Horn　is　the　only　four…footed　beast；〃　he　said；　〃that　has　a　better　eye　than　a　wild　horse。　A　cougar　has　an　eye；　too；　he's　used　to　lying　high　up　on　the　cliffs　and　looking　down　for　his　quarry　so　as　to　stalk　it　at　night；　but　even　a　cougar　has　to　take　second　to　a　mustang　when　it　comes　to　sight。〃

The　hours　passed　slowly。　The　sun　baked　us；　the　stones　were　too　hot　to　touch；　flies　buzzed　behind　our　ears；　tarantulas　peeped　at　us　from　holes。　The　afternoon　slowly　waned。

At　dark　we　returned　to　where　we　had　left　Wallace　and　the　cowboys。　Frank　had　solved　the　problem　of　water　supply；　for　he　had　found　a　little　spring　trickling　from　a　cliff；　which；　by　skillful　management；　produced　enough　drink　for　the　horses。　We　had　packed　our　water　for　camp　use。

〃You　take　the　first　watch　to…night；〃　said　Jones　to　me　after　supper。　〃The　mustangs　might　try　to　slip　by　our　fire　in　the　night　and　we　must　keep　a　watch　or　them。　Call　Wallace　when　your　time's　up。　Now；　fellows；　roll　in。〃

When　the　pink　of　dawn　was　shading　white；　we　were　at　our　posts。　A　long；　hot　dayinterminably　long；　deadening　to　the　keenest　interestpassed；　and　still　no　mustangs　came。　We　slept　and　watched　again；　in　the　grateful　cool　of　night；　till　the　third　day　broke。

The　hours　passed；　the　cool　breeze　changed　to　hot；　the　sun　blazed　over　the　canyon　wall；　the　stones　scorched；　the　flies　buzzed。　I　fell　asleep　in　the　scant　shade　of　the　sage　bushes　and　awoke；　stifled　and　moist。　The　old　plainsman；　never　weary；　leaned　with　his　back　against　a　stone　and　watched；　with　narrow　gaze；　the　canyon　below。　The　steely　walls　hurt　my　eyes；　the　sky　was　like　hot　copper。　Though　nearly　wild　with　heat　and　aching　bones　and　muscles　and　the　long　hours　of　waitwaitwait；　I　was　ashamed　to　complain；　for　there　sat　the　old　man；　still　and　silent。　I　routed　out　a　hairy　tarantula　from　under　a　stone　and　teased　him　into　a　frenzy　with　my　stick；　and　tried　to　get　up　a　fight　between　him　and　a　scallop…backed　horned…toad　that　blinked　wonderingly　at　me。　Then　I　espied　a　green　lizard　on　a　stone。　The　beautiful　reptile　was　about　a　foot　in　length；　bright　green；　dotted　with　red；　and　he　had　diamonds　for　eyes。　Nearby　a　purple　flower　blossomed；　delicate　and　pale；　with　a　bee　sucking　at　its　golden　heart。　I　observed　then　that　the　lizard　had　his　jewel　eyes　upon　the　bee；　he　slipped　to　the　edge　of　the　stone；　flicked　out　a　long；　red　tongue；　and　tore　the　insect　from　its　honeyed　perch。　Here　were　beauty；　life　and　death；　and　I　had　been　weary　for　something　to　look　at；　to　think　about；　to　distract　me　from　the　wearisome　wait！

〃Listen！〃　broke　in　Jones's　sharp　voice。　His　neck　was　stretched；　his　eyes　were　closed；　his　ear　was　turned　to　the　wind。

With　thrilling；　reawakened　eagerness；　I　strained　my　hearing。　I　caught　a　faint　sound；　then　lost　it。

〃Put　your　ear　to　the　ground；〃　said　Jones。　I　followed　his　advice；　and　detected　the　rhythmic　beat　of　galloping　horses。

〃The　mustangs　are　coming；　sure　as　you're　born！〃　exclaimed　Jones。

〃There　I　see　the　cloud　of　dust！〃　cried　he　a　minute　later。

In　the　first　bend　of　the　canyon　below；　a　splintered　ruin　of　rock　now　lay　under　a　rolling　cloud　of　dust。　A　white　flash　appeared；　a　line　of　bobbing　black　objects；　and　more　dust；　then　with　a　sharp　pounding　of　hoofs；　into　clear　vision　shot　a　dense　black　band　of　mustangs；　and　well　in　front　swung　the　White　King。

〃Look！　Look！　I　never　saw　the　beat　of　thatnever　in　my　born　days！〃　cried　Jones。　〃How　they　move！　yet　that　white　fellow　isn't　half…stretched　out。　Get　your　picture　before　they　pass。　You'll　never　see　the　beat　of　that。〃

With　long　manes　and　tails　flying；　the　mustangs　came　on　apace　and　passed　us　in　a　trampling　roar；　the　white　stallion　in　the　front。　Suddenly　a　shrill；　whistling　blast；　unlike　any　sound　I　had　ever　heard；　made　the　canyon　fairly　ring。　The　white　stallion　plunged　back；　and　his　band　closed　in　behind　him。　He　had　seen　our　saddle　horses。　Then　trembling；　whinnying；　and　with　arched　neck　and　high…　poised　head；　bespeaking　his　mettle；　he　advanced　a　few　paces；　and　again　whistled　his　shrill　note　of　defiance。　Pure　creamy　white　he　was；　and　built　like　a　racer。　He　pranced；　struck　his　hoofs　hard　and　cavorted；　then；　taking　sudden　fright；　he　wheeled。

It　was　then；　when　the　mustangs　were　pivoting；　with　the　white　in　the　lead；　that　Jones　jumped　upon　the　stone；　fired　his　pistol　and　roared　with　all　his　strength。　Taking　his　cue；　I　did　likewise。　The　band　huddled　back　again；　uncertain　and　frightened；　then　broke　up　the　canyon。

Jones　jumped　the　ditch　with　surprising　agility；　and　I　followed　close　at　his　heels。　When　we　reached　our　plunging　horses；　he　shouted：　〃Mount；　and　hold　this　passage。　Keep　close　in　by　that　big　stone　at　the　turn　so　they　can't　run　you　down；　or　stampede　you。　If　they　head　your　way；　scare　them　back。〃

Satan　quivered；　and　when　I　mounted；　reared　and　plunged。　I　had　to　hold　him　in　hard；　for　he　was　eager　to　run。　At　the　cliff　wall　I　was　at　some　pains　to　check　him。　He　kept　champing　his　bit　and　stamping　his　feet。

From　my　post　I　could　see　the　mustangs　flying　before　a　cloud　of　dust。　Jones　was　turning　in　his　horse　behind　a　large　rock　in　the　middle　of　the　canyon；　where　he　evidently　intended　to　hide。　Presently　successive　yells　and　shots　from　our　comrades　blended　in　a　roar　which　the　narrow　box…canyon　augmented　and　echoed　from　wall　to　wall。　High　the　White　Mustang　reared；　and　above　the　roar　whistled　his　snort　of　furious　terror。　His　band　wheeled　with　him　and　charged　back；　their　hoofs　ringing　like　hammers　on　iron。

The　crafty　old　buffalo…hunter　had　hemmed　the　mustangs　in　a　circle　and　had　left　himself　free　in　the　center。　It　was　a　wily　trick；　born　of　his　quick　mind　and　experienced　eye。

The　stallion；　closely　crowded