the last of the plainsmen-第35章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　spat；　at　the　same　time　throwing　both　paws　out　viciously。　Kitty　may　have　rested；　but　did　not　sleep。　At　times　she　fought　her　chain；　tugging　and　straining　at　it；　and　trying　to　bite　it　through。　Everything　in　reach　she　clawed；　particularly　the　bark　of　the　tree。　Once　she　tried　to　hang　herself　by　leaping　over　a　low　limb。　When　any　one　walked　by　her　she　crouched　low；　evidently　imagining　herself　unseen。　If　one　of　us　walked　toward　her；　or　looked　at　her；　she　did　not　crouch。　At　other　times；　noticeably　when　no　one　was　near；　she　would　roll　on　her　back　and　extend　all　four　paws　in　the　air。　Her　actions　were　beautiful；　soft；　noiseless；　quick　and　subtle。

The　day　passed；　as　all　days　pass　in　camp；　swiftly　and　pleasantly；　and　twilight　stole　down　upon　us　round　the　ruddy　fire。　The　wind　roared　in　the　pines　and　lulled　to　repose；　the　lonesome；　friendly　coyote　barked；　the　bells　on　the　hobbled　horses　jingled　sweetly；　the　great　watch　stars　blinked　out　of　the　blue。

The　red　glow　of　the　burning　logs　lighted　up　Jones's　calm；　cold　face。　Tranquil；　unalterable　and　peaceful　it　seemed；　yet　beneath　the　peace　I　thought　I　saw　a　suggestion　of　wild　restraint；　of　mystery；　of　unslaked　life。

Strangely　enough；　his　next　words　confirmed　my　last　thought。

〃For　forty　years　I've　had　an　ambition。　It's　to　get　possession　of　an　island　in　the　Pacific；　somewhere　between　Vancouver　and　Alaska；　and　then　go　to　Siberia　and　capture　a　lot　of　Russian　sables。　I'd　put　them　on　the　island　and　cross　them　with　our　silver　foxes。　I'm　going　to　try　it　next　year　if　I　can　find　the　time。〃

The　ruling　passion　and　character　determine　our　lives。　Jones　was　sixty…three　years　old；　yet　the　thing　that　had　ruled　and　absorbed　his　mind　was　still　as　strong　as　the　longing　for　freedom　in　Kitty's　wild　heart。

Hours　after　I　had　crawled　into　my　sleeping…bag；　in　the　silence　of　night　I　heard　her　working　to　get　free。　In　darkness　she　was　most　active；　restless；　intense。　I　heard　the　clink　of　her　chain；　the　crack　of　her　teeth；　the　scrape　of　her　claws。　How　tireless　she　was。　I　recalled　the　wistful　light　in　her　eyes　that　saw；　no　doubt；　far　beyond　the　campfire　to　the　yellow　crags；　to　the　great　downward　slopes；　to　freedom。　I　slipped　my　elbow　out　of　the　bag　and　raised　myself。　Dark　shadows　were　hovering　under　the　pines。　I　saw　Kitty's　eyes　gleam　like　sparks；　and　I　seemed　to　see　in　them　the　hate；　the　fear；　the　terror　she　had　of　the　clanking　thing　that　bound　her！

I　shivered；　perhaps　from　the　cold　night　wind　which　moaned　through　the　pines；　I　saw　the　stars　glittering　pale　and　far　off；　and　under　their　wan　light　the　still；　set　face　of　Jones；　and　blanketed　forms　of　my　other　companions。

The　last　thing　I　remembered　before　dropping　into　dreamless　slumber　was　hearing　a　bell　tinkle　in　the　forest；　which　I　recognized　as　the　one　I　had　placed　on　Satan。


CHAPTER　17。　CONCLUSION

Kitty　was　not　the　only　cougar　brought　into　camp　alive。　The　ensuing　days　were　fruitful　of　cougars　and　adventure。　There　were　more　wild　rides　to　the　music　of　the　baying　hounds；　and　more　heart…breaking　canyon　slopes　to　conquer；　and　more　swinging；　tufted　tails　and　snarling　savage　faces　in　the　pinyons。　Once　again；　I　am　sorry　to　relate；　I　had　to　glance　down　the　sights　of　the　little　Remington；　and　I　saw　blood　on　the　stones。　Those　eventful　days　sped　by　all　too　soon。

When　the　time　for　parting　came　it　took　no　little　discussion　to　decide　on　the　quickest　way　of　getting　me　to　a　railroad。　I　never　fully　appreciated　the　inaccessibility　of　the　Siwash　until　the　question　arose　of　finding　a　way　out。　To　return　on　our　back　trail　would　require　two　weeks；　and　to　go　out　by　the　trail　north　to　Utah　meant　half　as　much　time　over　the　same　kind　of　desert。　Lawson　came　to　our　help；　however；　with　the　information　that　an　occasional　prospector　or　horse　hunter　crossed　the　canyon　from　the　Saddle；　where　a　trail　led　down　to　the　river。

〃I've　heard　the　trail　is　a　bad　one；〃　said　Lawson；　〃an'　though　I　never　seen　it；　I　reckon　it　could　be　found。　After　we　get　to　the　Saddle　we'll　build　two　fires　on　one　of　the　high　points　an'　keep　them　burnin'　well　after　dark。　If　Mr。　Bass；　who　lives　on　the　other　side；　sees　the　fires　he'll　come　down　his　trail　next　mornin'　an'　meet　us　at　the　river。　He　keeps　a　boat　there。　This　is　takin'　a　chance；　but　I　reckon　it's　worth　while。〃

So　it　was　decided　that　Lawson　and　Frank　would　try　to　get　me　out　by　way　of　the　canyon；　Wallace　intended　to　go　by　the　Utah　route；　and　Jones　was　to　return　at　once　to　his　range　and　his　buffalo。

That　night　round　the　campfire　we　talked　over　the　many　incidents　of　the　hunt。　Jones　stated　he　had　never　in　his　life　come　so　near　getting　his　〃everlasting〃　as　when　the　big　bay　horse　tripped　on　a　canyon　slope　and　rolled　over　him。　Notwithstanding　the　respect　with　which　we　regarded　his　statement　we　held　different　opinions。　Then；　with　the　unfailing　optimism　of　hunters；　we　planned　another　hunt　for　the　next　year。

〃I'll　tell　you　what；〃　said　Jones。　〃Up　in　Utah　there's　a　wild　region　called　Pink　Cliffs。　A　few　poor　sheep…herders　try　to　raise　sheep　in　the　valleys。　They　wouldn't　be　so　poor　if　it　was　not　for　the　grizzly　and　black　bears　that　live　on　the　sheep。　We'll　go　up　there；　find　a　place　where　grass　and　water　can　be　had；　and　camp。　We'll　notify　the　sheep…herders　we　are　there　for　business。　They'll　be　only　too　glad　to　hustle　in　with　news　of　a　bear；　and　we　can　get　the　hounds　on　the　trail　by　sun…up。　I'll　have　a　dozen　hounds　then；　maybe　twenty；　and　all　trained。　We'll　put　every　black　bear　we　chase　up　a　tree；　and　we'll　rope　and　tie　him。　As　to　grizzlieswell；　I'm　not　saying　so　much。　They　can't　climb　trees；　and　they　are　not　afraid　of　a　pack　of　hounds。　If　we　rounded　up　a　grizzly；　got　him　cornered；　and　threw　a　rope　on　himthere'd　be　some　fun；　eh；　Jim？〃

〃Shore　there　would；〃　Jim　replied。

On　the　strength　of　this　I　stored　up　food　for　future　thought　and　thus　reconciled　myself　to　bidding　farewell　to　the　purple　canyons　and　shaggy　slopes　of　Buckskin　Mountain。

At　five　o'clock　next　morning　we　were　all　stirring。　Jones　yelled　at　the　hounds　and　untangled　Kitty's　chain。　Jim　was　already　busy　with　the　biscuit　dough。　Frank　shook　the　frost　off　the　saddles。　Wallace　was　packing。　The　merry　jangle　of　bells　came　from　the　forest；　and　presently　Lawson　appeared　driving　in　the　horses。　I　caught　my　black　and　saddled　him；　then　realizing　we　were　soon　to　part　I　could　not　resist　giving　him　a　hug。

An　hour　later　we　all　stood　at　the　head　of　the　trail　leading　down　into　the　chasm。　The　east　gleamed　rosy　red。　Powell's　Plateau　loomed　up　in　the　distance；　and　under　it　showed　the　dark…fringed　dip　in　the　rim　called　the　Saddle。　Blue　mist　floated　round　the　mesas　and　domes。

Lawson　led　the　way　down　the　trail。　Frank　started　Old　Baldy　with　the　pack。

〃Come；〃　he　called；　〃be　oozin'　along。〃

I　spoke　the　last　good…by　and　turned　Satan　into　the　narrow　trail。　When　I　looked　back　Jones　stood　on　the　rim　with　the　fresh　glow　of　dawn　shining　on　his　face。　The　trail　was　steep；　and　claimed　my　attention　and　care；　but　time　and　time　again　I　gazed　back。　Jones　waved　his　hand　till　a　huge　jutting　cliff　walled　him　from　view。　Then　I　cast　my　eyes　on　the　rough　descent　and　the　wonderful　void　beneath　me。　In　my　mind　lingered　a　pleasing　consciousness　of　my　last　sight　of　the　old　plainsman。　He　fitted　the　scene；　he　belonged　there　among　the　silent　pines　and　the　yellow　crags。







End