the call of the canyon- 第20部分

〃'I'm　not　carin'　much　for　what　them　herders　say；'　replied　Ruff。

〃'Do　you　deny　it？'　demanded　Glenn。

〃'I　ain't　denyin'　nothin'；　Kilbourne；'　growled　Ruff。　'I　might　argue　against　me　bein'　disrespectful。　That's　a　matter　of　opinion。'

〃'You'll　apologize　for　speaking　to　Miss　Burch　or　I'll　beat　you　up　an'　have　Hutter　fire　you。'

〃'Wal；　Kilbourne；　I　never　eat　my　words；'　replied　Ruff。

〃Then　Glenn　knocked　him　flat。　You　ought　to　have　heard　that　crack。　Sounded　like　Charley　hitting　a　steer　with　a　club。　Dad　yelled：　'Look　out；　Glenn。　He　packs　a　gun！'Ruff　got　up　mad　clear　through　I　reckon。　Then　they　mixed　it。　Ruff　got　in　some　swings；　but　he　couldn't　reach　Glenn's　face。　An'　Glenn　batted　him　right　an'　left；　every　time　in　his　ugly　mug。　Ruff　got　all　bloody　an'　he　cussed　something　awful。　Glenn　beat　him　against　the　fence　an'　then　we　all　saw　Ruff　reach　for　a　gun　or　knife。　All　the　men　yelled。　An'　shore　I　screamed。　But　Glenn　saw　as　much　as　we　saw。　He　got　fiercer。　He　beat　Ruff　down　to　his　knees　an'　swung　on　him　hard。　Deliberately　knocked　Ruff　into　the　dip　ditch。　What　a　splash！　It　wet　all　of　us。　Ruff　went　out　of　sight。　Then　he　rolled　up　like　a　huge　hog。　We　were　all　scared　now。　That　dip's　rank　poison；　you　know。　Reckon　Ruff　knew　that。　He　floundered　along　an'　crawled　up　at　the　end。　Anyone　could　see　that　he　had　mouth　an'　eyes　tight　shut。　He　began　to　grope　an'　feel　around；　trying　to　find　the　way　to　the　pond。　One　of　the　men　led　him　out。　It　was　great　to　see　him　wade　in　the　water　an'　wallow　an'　souse　his　head　under。　When　he　came　out　the　men　got　in　front　of　him　any　stopped　him。　He　shore　looked　bad。　。　。　。　An'　Glenn　called　to　him；　'Ruff；　that　sheep…dip　won't　go　through　your　tough　hide；　but　a　bullet　will！〃


Not　long　after　this　incident　Carley　started　out　on　her　usual　afternoon　ride；　having　arranged　with　Glenn　to　meet　her　on　his　return　from　work。

Toward　the　end　of　June　Carley　had　advanced　in　her　horsemanship　to　a　point　where　Flo　lent　her　one　of　her　own　mustangs。　This　change　might　not　have　had　all　to　do　with　a　wonderful　difference　in　riding；　but　it　seemed　so　to　Carley。　There　was　as　much　difference　in　horses　as　in　people。　This　mustang　she　had　ridden　of　late　was　of　Navajo　stock；　but　he　had　been　born　and　raised　and　broken　at　Oak　Creek。　Carley　had　not　yet　discovered　any　objection　on　his　part　to　do　as　she　wanted　him　to。　He　liked　what　she　liked；　and　most　of　all　he　liked　to　go。　His　color　resembled　a　pattern　of　calico；　and　in　accordance　with　Western　ways　his　name　was　therefore　Calico。　Left　to　choose　his　own　gait；　Calico　always　dropped　into　a　gentle　pace　which　was　so　easy　and　comfortable　and　swinging　that　Carley　never　tired　of　it。　Moreover；　he　did　not　shy　at　things　lying　in　the　road　or　rabbits　darting　from　bushes　or　at　the　upwhirring　of　birds。　Carley　had　grown　attached　to　Calico　before　she　realized　she　was　drifting　into　it；　and　for　Carley　to　care　for　anything　or　anybody　was　a　serious　matter；　because　it　did　not　happen　often　and　it　lasted。　She　was　exceedingly　tenacious　of　affection。

June　had　almost　passed　and　summer　lay　upon　the　lonely　land。　Such　perfect　and　wonderful　weather　had　never　before　been　Carley's　experience。　The　dawns　broke　cool；　fresh；　fragrant；　sweet；　and　rosy；　with　a　breeze　that　seemed　of　heaven　rather　than　earth；　and　the　air　seemed　tremulously　full　of　the　murmur　of　falling　water　and　the　melody　of　mocking　birds。　At　the　solemn　noontides　the　great　white　sun　glared　down　hotso　hot　that　t　burned　the　skin；　yet　strangely　was　a　pleasant　burn。　The　waning　afternoons　were　Carley's　especial　torment；　when　it　seemed　the　sounds　and　winds　of　the　day　were　tiring；　and　all　things　were　seeking　repose；　and　life　must　soften　to　an　unthinking　happiness。　These　hours　troubled　Carley　because　she　wanted　them　to　last；　and　because　she　knew　for　her　this　changing　and　transforming　time　could　not　last。　So　long　as　she　did　not　think　she　was　satisfied。

Maples　and　sycamores　and　oaks　were　in　full　foliage；　and　their　bright　greens　contrasted　softly　with　the　dark　shine　of　the　pines。　Through　the　spaces　between　brown　tree　trunks　and　the　white…spotted　holes　of　the　sycamores　gleamed　the　amber　water　of　the　creek。　Always　there　was　murmur　of　little　rills　and　the　musical　dash　of　little　rapids。　On　the　surface　of　still；　shady　pools　trout　broke　to　make　ever…widening　ripples。　Indian　paintbrush；　so　brightly　carmine　in　color；　lent　touch　of　fire　to　the　green　banks；　and　under　the　oaks；　in　cool　dark　nooks　where　mossy　bowlders　lined　the　stream；　there　were　stately　nodding　yellow　columbines。　And　high　on　the　rock　ledges　shot　up　the　wonderful　mescal　stalks；　beginning　to　blossom；　some　with　tints　of　gold　and　others　with　tones　of　red。

Riding　along　down　the　canyon；　under　its　looming　walls；　Carley　wondered　that　if　unawares　to　her　these　physical　aspects　of　Arizona　could　have　become　more　significant　than　she　realized。　The　thought　had　confronted　her　before。　Here；　as　always；　she　fought　it　and　denied　it　by　the　simple　defense　of　elimination。　Yet　refusing　to　think　of　a　thing　when　it　seemed　ever　present　was　not　going　to　do　forever。　Insensibly　and　subtly　it　might　get　a　hold　on　her；　never　to　be　broken。　Yet　it　was　infinitely　easier　to　dream　than　to　think。

But　the　thought　encroached　upon　her　that　it　was　not　a　dreamful　habit　of　mind　she　had　fallen　into　of　late。　When　she　dreamed　or　mused　she　lived　vaguely　and　sweetly　over　past　happy　hours　or　dwelt　in　enchanted　fancy　upon　a　possible　future。　Carley　had　been　told　by　a　Columbia　professor　that　she　was　a　type　of　the　present　agea　modern　young　woman　of　materialistic　mind。　Be　that　as　it　might；　she　knew　many　things　seemed　loosening　from　the　narrowness　and　tightness　of　her　character；　sloughing　away　like　scales；　exposing　a　new　and　strange　and　susceptible　softness　of　fiber。　And　this　blank　habit　of　mind；　when　she　did　not　think；　and　now　realized　that　she　was　not　dreaming；　seemed　to　be　the　body　of　Carley　Burch；　and　her　heart　and　soul　stripped　of　a　shell。　Nerve　and　emotion　and　spirit　received　something　from　her　surroundings。　She　absorbed　her　environment。　She　felt。　It　was　a　delightful　state。　But　when　her　own　consciousness　caused　it　to　elude　her；　then　she　both　resented　and　regretted。　Anything　that　approached　permanent　attachment　to　this　crude　and　untenanted　West　Carley　would　not　tolerate　for　a　moment。　Reluctantly　she　admitted　it　had　bettered　her　health；　quickened　her　blood；　and　quite　relegated　Florida　and　the　Adirondacks；　to　little　consideration。

〃Well；　as　I　told　Glenn；〃　soliloquized　Carley；　〃every　time　I'm　almost　won　over　a　little　to　Arizona　she　gives　me　a　hard　jolt。　I'm　getting　near　being　mushy　today。　Now　let's　see　what　I'll　get。　I　suppose　that's　my　pessimism　or　materialism。　Funny　how　Glenn　keeps　saying　its　the　jolts；　the　hard　knocks；　the　fights　that　are　best　to　remember　afterward。　I　don't　get　that　at　all。〃

Five　miles　below　West　Fork　a　road　branched　off　and　climbed　the　left　side　of　the　canyon。　It　was　a　rather　steep　road；　long　and　zigzaging；　and　full　of　rocks　and　ruts。　Carley　did　not　enjoy　ascending　it；　but　she　preferred　the　going　up　to　coming　down。　It　took　half　an　hour　to　climb。

Once　up　on　the　flat　cedar…dotted　desert　she　was　met；　full　in　the　face；　by　a　hot　dusty　wind　coming　from　the　south。　Carley　searched　her　pockets　for　her　goggles；　only　to　ascertain　that　she　had　forgotten　them。　Nothing；　except　a　freezing　sleety　wind；　annoyed　and　punished　Carley　so　much　as　a　hard　puffy　wind；　full　of　sand　and　dust。　Somewhere　along　the　first　few　miles　of　this　road　she　was　to　meet　Glenn。　If　she　turned　back　for　any　cause　he　would　be　worried；　and；　what　concerned　her　more　vitally；　he　would　think　she　had　not　the　courage　to　face　a　little　dust。　So　Carley　rode　on。

The　wind　appeared　to　be　gusty。　It　would　blow　hard　awhile；　then　lull　for　a　few　moments。　On　the　whole；　however；　it　increased　in　volume　and　persistence　until　she　was　riding　against　a　gale。　She　had　now　come　to　a　bare；　flat；　gravelly　region；　scant　of　cedars　and　brush；　and　far　ahead　she　could　see　a　dull　yellow　pall　rising　high　into　the　sky。　It　was　a　duststorm　and　it　was　sweeping　down　on　the　wings　of　that　gale。　Carley　remembered　that　somewhere　along　this　flat　there　was　a　log　cabin　which　had　before　provided　shelter　for　her　and　Flo　when　they　were　caught　in　a　rainstorm。　It　seemed　unlikely　that　she　had　passed　by　this　cabin。

Resolutely　she　faced　the　gale　and　knew　she　had　a　task　to　find　that　refuge。　If　there　had　been　a　big　rock　or　bushy　cedar　to　offer　shelter　she　would　have　welcomed　it。　But　there　was　nothing。　When　the　hard　dusty　gusts　hit　her；　she　found　it　absolutely　necessary　to　shut　her　eyes。　At　intervals　less　windy　she　opened　them；　and　rode　on；　peering　through　the　yellow　gloom　for　the　cabin。　Thus　she　got　her　eyes　full　of　dustan　alkali　dust　that　made　them　sting　and　smart。　The　fiercer　puffs　of　wind　carried　pebbles　large　enough　to　hurt　severely。　Then　the　dust　clogged　her　nose　and　sand　got　between　her　teeth。　Added　to　these　annoyances　was　a　heat　like　a　blast　from　a　furnace。　Carley　perspired　freely　and　that　caked　the　dust　on　her　face。　She　rode　on；　gradually　growing　more　uncomfortable　and　miserable。　Yet　even　then　she　did　not　utterly　lose　a　sort　of　thrilling　zest　in　being　thrown　upon　her　own　responsibility。　She　could　hate　an　obstacle；　yet　feel　something　of　pride　in　holding　her　own　against　it。

Another　mile　of　buffeting　this　increasing　gale　so　exhausted　Carley　and　wrought　upon　her　nerves　that　she　became　nearly　panic…stricken。　It　grew　harder　and　harder　not　to　turn　back。　At　last　she　was　about　to　give　up　when　right　at　hand　through　the　flying　dust　she　espied　the　cabin。　Riding　behind　it；　she　dismounted　and　tied　the　mustang　to　a　post。　Then　she　ran　around　to　the　door　and　entered。

What　a　welcome　refuge！　She　was　all　right　now；　and　when　Glenn　came　along　she　would　have　added　to　her　already　considerable　list　another　feat　for　which　he　would　commend　her。　With　aid　of　her　handkerchief；　and　the　tears　that　flowed　so　copiously；　Carley　presently　freed　her　eyes　of　the　blinding　dust。　But　when　she　essayed　to　remove　it　from　her　face　she　discovered　she　would　need　a　towel　and　soap　and　hot　water。

The　cabin　appeared　to　be　enveloped　in　a　soft；　swishing；　hollow　sound。　It　seeped　and　rustled。　Then　the　sound　lulled；　only　to　rise　again。　Carley　went　to　the　door；　relieved　and　glad　to　see　that　the　duststorm　was　blowing　by。　The　great　sky…high　pall　of　yellow　had　moved　on　to　the　north。　Puffs　of　d