susy, a story of the plains-第4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！



may　be　the　convincing　proof　of　innocence　of　intention。　　Judge

Peyton；　already　influenced；　was　furious　at　the　comfortable

obliviousness　of　his　careless　henchman；　and　rode　angrily　towards

him。　　Only　a　quick　turn　of　Pedro's　wrist　kept　the　two　men　from

coming　into　collision。



〃Is　this　the　way　you　attend　to　your　duty？〃　demanded　Peyton；　in　a

thick；　suppressed　voice；　〃Where　is　the　buggy？　　Where　is　my

daughter？〃



There　was　no　mistaking　Judge　Peyton's　manner；　even　if　the　reason　of

it　was　not　so　clear　to　Pedro's　mind；　and　his　hot　Latin　blood　flew

instinctively　to　his　face。　　But　for　that；　he　might　have　shown　some

concern　or　asked　an　explanation。　　As　it　was；　he　at　once　retorted

with　the　national　shrug　and　the　national　half…scornful；　half…lazy

〃Quien　sabe？〃



〃Who　knows？〃　repeated　Peyton；　hotly。　　〃I　do！　　She　was　thrown　out　of

her　buggy　through　your　negligence　and　infernal　laziness！　　The　ponies

ran　away；　and　were　stopped　by　a　stranger　who　wasn't　afraid　of

risking　his　bones；　while　you　were　limping　around　somewhere　like　a

slouching；　cowardly　coyote。〃



The　vacquero　struggled　a　moment　between　blank　astonishment　and

inarticulate　rage。　　At　last　he　burst　out：



〃I　am　no　coyote！　　I　was　there！　　I　saw　no　runaway！〃



〃Don't　lie　to　me；　sir！〃　roared　Peyton。　　〃I　tell　you　the　buggy　was

smashed；　the　girls　were　thrown　out　and　nearly　killed〃　　He　stopped

suddenly。　　The　sound　of　youthful　laughter　had　come　from　the　bottom

of　the　lane；　where　Susy　Peyton　and　Mary　Rogers；　just　alighted　from

the　coach；　in　the　reaction　of　their　previous　constrained　attitude；

were　flying　hilariously　into　view。　　A　slight　embarrassment　crossed

Peyton's　face；　a　still　deeper　flush　of　anger　overspread　Pedro's

sullen　cheek。



Then　Pedro　found　tongue　again；　his　native　one；　rapidly；　violently；

half　incoherently。　　〃Ah；　yes！　　It　had　come　to　this。　　It　seems　he　was

not　a　vacquero；　a　companion　of　the　padrone　on　lands　that　had　been

his　own　before　the　Americanos　robbed　him　of　it；　but　a　servant；　a

lackey　of　muchachas；　an　attendant　on　children　to　amuse　them；　orwhy

not？an　appendage　to　his　daughter's　state！　　Ah；　Jesus　Maria！　such　a

state！　such　a　muchacha！　　A　picked…up　foundlinga　swineherd's

daughterto　be　ennobled　by　his；　Pedro's；　attendance；　and　for　whose

vulgar；　clownish　tricks；tricks　of　a　swineherd's　daughter；he；

Pedro；　was　to　be　brought　to　book　and　insulted　as　if　she　were　of

Hidalgo　blood！　　Ah；　Caramba！　　Don　Juan　Peyton　would　find　he　could　no

more　make　a　servant　of　him　than　he　could　make　a　lady　of　her！〃



The　two　young　girls　were　rapidly　approaching。　　Judge　Peyton　spurred

his　horse　beside　the　vacquero's；　and；　swinging　the　long　thong　of　his

bridle　ominously　in　his　clenched　fingers；　said；　with　a　white　face：



〃Vamos！〃



Pedro's　hand　slid　towards　his　sash。　　Peyton　only　looked　at　him　with

a　rigid　smile　of　scorn。



〃Or　I'll　lash　you　here　before　them　both；〃　he　added　in　a　lower　voice。



The　vacquero　met　Peyton's　relentless　eyes　with　a　yellow　flash　of

hate；　drew　his　reins　sharply；　until　his　mustang；　galled　by　the　cruel

bit；　reared　suddenly　as　if　to　strike　at　the　immovable　American；

then；　apparently　with　the　same　action；　he　swung　it　around　on　its

hind　legs；　as　on　a　pivot；　and　dashed　towards　the　corral　at　a　furious

gallop。





CHAPTER　III。





Meantime　the　heroic　proprietor　of　the　peaceful　ox…team；　whose　valor

Incarnacion　had　so　infelicitously　celebrated；　was　walking　listlessly

in　the　dust　beside　his　wagon。　　At　a　first　glance　his　slouching

figure；　taken　in　connection　with　his　bucolic　conveyance；　did　not

immediately　suggest　a　hero。　　As　he　emerged　from　the　dusty　cloud　it

could　be　seen　that　he　was　wearing　a　belt　from　which　a　large　dragoon

revolver　and　hunting　knife　were　slung；　and　placed　somewhat

ostentatiously　across　the　wagon　seat　was　a　rifle。　　Yet　the　other

contents　of　the　wagon　were　of　a　singularly　inoffensive　character；

and　even　suggested　articles　of　homely　barter。　　Culinary　utensils　of

all　sizes；　tubs；　scullery　brushes；　and　clocks；　with　several　rolls　of

cheap　carpeting　and　calico；　might　have　been　the　wares　of　some

traveling　vender。　　Yet；　as　they　were　only　visible　through　a　flap　of

the　drawn　curtains　of　the　canvas　hood；　they　did　not　mitigate　the

general　aggressive　effect　of　their　owner's　appearance。　　A　red

bandanna　handkerchief　knotted　and　thrown　loosely　over　his　shoulders；

a　slouched　hat　pulled　darkly　over　a　head　of　long　tangled　hair；

which；　however；　shadowed　a　round；　comfortable　face；　scantily　and

youthfully　bearded；　were　part　of　these　confusing　inconsistencies。



The　shadows　of　the　team　wagon　were　already　lengthening　grotesquely

over　the　flat；　cultivated　fields；　which　for　some　time　had　taken　the

place　of　the　plains　of　wild　oats　in　the　branch　road　into　which　they

had　turned。　　The　gigantic　shadow　of　the　proprietor；　occasionally

projected　before　it；　was　in　characteristic　exaggeration；　and　was

often　obliterated　by　a　puff　of　dust；　stirred　by　the　plodding　hoofs

of　the　peaceful　oxen；　and　swept　across　the　field　by　the　strong

afternoon　trades。　　The　sun　sank　lower；　although　a　still　potent

presence　above　the　horizon　line；　the　creaking　wagon　lumbered　still

heavily　along。　　Yet　at　intervals　its　belligerent　proprietor　would

start　up　from　his　slouching；　silent　march；　break　out　into　violent；

disproportionate；　but　utterly　ineffective　objurgation　of　his　cattle；

jump　into　the　air　and　kick　his　heels　together　in　some　paroxysm　of

indignation　against　them；an　act；　however；　which　was　received

always　with　heavy　bovine　indifference；　the　dogged　scorn　of　swaying；

repudiating　heads；　or　the　dull　contempt　of　lazily　flicking　tails。



Towards　sunset　one　or　two　straggling　barns　and　cottages　indicated

their　approach　to　the　outskirts　of　a　country　town　or　settlement。

Here　the　team　halted；　as　if　the　belligerent…looking　teamster　had

felt　his　appearance　was　inconsistent　with　an　effeminate

civilization；　and　the　oxen　were　turned　into　an　open　waste　opposite　a

nondescript　wooden　tenement；　half　farmhouse　and　half　cabin；

evidently　of　the　rudest　Western　origin。　　He　may　have　recognized　the

fact　that　these　〃shanties〃　were　not；　as　the　ordinary　traveler　might

infer；　the　first　rude　shelter　of　the　original　pioneers　or　settlers；

but　the　later　makeshifts　of　some　recent　Western　immigrants　who；　like

himself；　probably　found　themselves　unequal　to　the　settled　habits　of

the　village；　and　who　still　retained　their　nomadic　instincts。　　It

chanced；　however；　that　the　cabin　at　present　was　occupied　by　a　New

England　mechanic　and　his　family；　who　had　emigrated　by　ship　around

Cape　Horn；　and　who　had　no　experience　of　the　West；　the　plains；　or　its

people。　　It　was　therefore　with　some　curiosity　and　a　certain　amount

of　fascinated　awe　that　the　mechanic's　only　daughter　regarded　from

the　open　door　of　her　dwelling　the　arrival　of　this　wild　and　lawless…

looking　stranger。



Meantime　he　had　opened　the　curtains　of　the　wagon　and　taken　from　its

interior　a　number　of　pots；　pans；　and　culinary　utensils；　which　he

proceeded　to　hang　upon　certain　hooks　that　were　placed　on　the　outer

ribs　of　the　board　and　the　sides　of　the　vehicle。　　To　this　he　added　a

roll　of　rag　carpet；　the　end　of　which　hung　from　the　tailboard；　and　a

roll　of　pink　calico　temptingly　displayed　on　the　seat。　　The

mystification　and　curiosity　of　the　young　girl　grew　more　intense　at

these　proceedings。　　It　looked　like　the　ordinary　exhibition　of　a

traveling　peddler；　but　the　gloomy　and　embattled　appearance　of　the

man　himself　scouted　so　peaceful　and　commonplace　a　suggestion。　　Under

the　pretense　of　chasing　away　a　marauding　hen；　she　sallied　out　upon

the　waste　near　the　wagon。　　It　then　became　evident　that　the　traveler

had　seen　her；　and　was　not　averse　to　her　interest　in　his　movements；

although　he　had　not　changed　his　attitude　of　savage　retrospection。

An　occasional　ejaculation　of　suppressed　passion；　as　if　the　memory　of

some　past　conflict　was　too　much　for　him；　escaped　him　even　in　this

peaceful　occupation。　　As　this　possibly　caused　the　young　girl　to

still　hover　timidly　in　the　distance；　he　suddenly　entered　the　wagon

and　reappeared　carrying　a　tin　bucket；　with　which　he　somewhat

ostentatiously　crossed　her　path；　his　eyes　darkly　wandering　as　if

seeking　something。



〃If　you're　lookin'　for　the　spring；　it's　a　spell　furder　onby　the

willows。〃



It　was　a　pleasant　voice；　the　teamster　thought；　albeit　with　a　dry；

crisp；　New　England　accent　unfamiliar　to　his　ears。　　He　looked　into

the　depths　of　an　unlovely　blue…check　sunbonnet；　and　saw　certain

small；　irregular　features　and　a　sallow　check；　lit　up　by　a　pair　of

perfectly　innocent；　trustful；　and　wondering　brown　eyes。　　Their　timid

possessor　seemed　to　be　a　girl　of　seventeen；　whose　figure；　although

apparently　clad　in　one　of　her　mother's　gowns；　was　still　undeveloped

and　repressed　by　rustic　hardship　and　innutrition。　　As　her　eyes　met

his　she　saw　that　the　face　of　this　gloomy　stranger　was　still

youthful；　by　no　means　implacable；　and；　even　at　that　moment；　was

actually　suffused　by　a　brick…colored　blush！　　In　matters　of　mere

intuition；　the　sex；　even　in　its　most　rustic　phase；　is　still　our

superior；　and　this　unsophisticated　girl；　as　the　trespasser

stammered；　〃Thank　ye；　miss；〃　was　instinctively　emboldened　to　greater

freedom。



〃Dad　ain't　tu　hum；　but　ye　kin　have　a　drink　o'　milk　if　ye　keer　for

it。〃



She　motioned　shyly　towards　the　cabin；　and　then　led　the　way。　　The

stranger；　with　an　inarticulate　murmur；　afterwards　disguised　as　a

cough；　followed　her　meekly。　　Nevertheless；　by　the　time　they　had

reached　the　cabin　he　had　shaken　his　long　hair　over　his　eyes　again；

and　a　dark　abstraction　gathered　chiefly　in　his　eyebrows。　　But　it　did

not　efface　from　the　girl's　mind　the　previous　concession　of　a　blush；

and；　although　it　added　to　her　curiosity；　did　not　alarm　her。　　He

drank　the　milk　awkwardly。　　But　by　the　laws　of　courtesy；　even　among

the　most　savage　tribes；　she　felt　he　was；　at　that　moment　at　least；

harmless。　　A　timid　smile　fluttered　around　her　mouth　as　she　said：



〃When　ye　hung　up　them　things　I　thought　ye　might　be　havin'　suthing　to

swap　or　sell。　　That　is；〃with　tactful　politeness；〃mother　was

wantin'　a　new　skillet；　and　it　would　have　been　handy　if　you'd　had

one。　　But〃with　an　apologetic　glance　at　his　equipments〃if　it

ain't　your　business；　it's　all　right；　and　no　offense。〃



〃I've　got　a　lot　o'　skillets；〃　said　the　strange　teamster；　with　marked

condescension；　〃and　she　can　have　one。　　They're　all　that's　left　outer

a　heap　o'　trader's　stuff　captured　by　Injuns　t'other　side　of　Laramie。

We　had　a　big　fight　to　get　'em　back。　　Lost　two　of　our　best　men；

scalped　at　Bloody　Creek；and　had　to　drop　a　dozen　redskins　in　their

tracks；me　and　another　man；lyin'　flat　in　er　wagon　and　firin'

under　the　flaps　o'　the　canvas。　　I　don't　know　ez　they　waz　wuth　it；〃

he　added　in　gloomy　retrospect；　〃but　I've　got　to　get　rid　of　'em；　I

reckon；　somehow；　afore　I　work　over　to　Deadman's　Gulch　again。〃



The　young　girl's　eyes　brightened　timidly　with　a　feminine　mingling　of