the last of the plainsmen- 第8部分

〃Geronimo！〃　murmured　the　plainsman　through　his　teeth。

Well　for　the　Apache　that　no　falcon　savage　eye　discovered　aught　strange　in　the　little　hollow！　One　look　at　the　sand　of　the　stream　bed　would　have　cost　him　his　life。　But　the　Indians　crossed　the　thicket　too　far　up；　they　cantered　up　the　slope　and　disappeared。　The　hoof…beats　softened　and　ceased。

〃Gone？〃　whispered　Rude。

〃Gone。　But　wait；〃　whispered　Jones。　He　knew　the　savage　nature；　and　he　knew　how　to　wait。　After　a　long　time；　he　cautiously　crawled　out　of　the　thicket　and　searched　the　surroundings　with　a　plainsman's　eye。　He　climbed　the　slope　and　saw　the　clouds　of　dust；　the　near　one　small；　the　far　one　large；　which　told　him　all　he　needed　to　know。

〃Comanches？〃　queried　Adams；　with　a　quaver　in　his　voice。　He　was　new　to　the　plains。

〃Likely；〃　said　Jones；　who　thought　it　best　not　to　tell　all　he　knew。　Then　he　added　to　himself：　〃We've　no　time　to　lose。　There's　water　back　here　somewhere。　The　Indians　have　spotted　the　buffalo；　and　were　running　the　horses　away　from　the　water。〃

The　three　got　under　way　again；　proceeding　carefully；　so　as　not　to　raise　the　dust；　and　headed　due　southwest。　Scantier　and　scantier　grew　the　grass；　the　hollows　were　washes　of　sand；　steely　gray　dunes；　like　long；　flat；　ocean　swells；　ribbed　the　prairie。　The　gray　day　declined。　Late　into　the　purple　night　they　traveled；　then　camped　without　fire。

In　the　gray　morning　Jones　climbed　a　high　ride　and　scanned　the　southwest。　Low　dun…colored　sandhills　waved　from　him　down　and　down；　in　slow；　deceptive　descent。　A　solitary　and　remote　waste　reached　out　into　gray　infinitude。　A　pale　lake；　gray　as　the　rest　of　that　gray　expanse；　glimmered　in　the　distance。

〃Mirage！〃　he　muttered；　focusing　his　glass；　which　only　magnified　all　under　the　dead　gray；　steely　sky。　〃Water　must　be　somewhere；　but　can　that　be　it？　It's　too　pale　and　elusive　to　be　real。　No　lifea　blasted；　staked　plain！　Hello！〃

A　thin；　black；　wavering　line　of　wild　fowl；　moving　in　beautiful；　rapid　flight；　crossed　the　line　of　his　vision。　〃Geese　flying　north；　and　low。　There's　water　here；〃　he　said。　He　followed　the　flock　with　his　glass；　saw　them　circle　over　the　lake；　and　vanish　in　the　gray　sheen。

〃It's　water。〃　He　hurried　back　to　camp。　His　haggard　and　worn　companions　scorned　his　discovery。　Adams　siding　with　Rude；　who　knew　the　plains；　said：　〃Mirage！　the　lure　of　the　desert！〃　Yet　dominated　by　a　force　too　powerful　for　them　to　resist；　they　followed　the　buffalo…hunter。　All　day　the　gleaming　lake　beckoned　them　onward；　and　seemed　to　recede。　All　day　the　drab　clouds　scudded　before　the　cold　north　wind。　In　the　gray　twilight；　the　lake　suddenly　lay　before　them；　as　if　it　had　opened　at　their　feet。　The　men　rejoiced；　the　horses　lifted　their　noses　and　sniffed　the　damp　air。

The　whinnies　of　the　horses；　the　clank　of　harness；　and　splash　of　water；　the　whirl　of　ducks　did　not　blur　out　of　Jones's　keen　ear　a　sound　that　made　him　jump。　It　was　the　thump　of　hoofs；　in　a　familiar　beat；　beat；　beat。　He　saw　a　shadow　moving　up　a　ridge。　Soon；　outlined　black　against　the　yet　light　sky；　a　lone　buffalo　cow　stood　like　a　statue。　A　moment　she　held　toward　the　lake；　studying　the　danger；　then　went　out　of　sight　over　the　ridge。

Jones　spurred　his　horse　up　the　ascent；　which　was　rather　long　and　steep；　but　he　mounted　the　summit　in　time　to　see　the　cow　join　eight　huge；　shaggy　buffalo。　The　hunter　reined　in　his　horse；　and　standing　high　in　his　stirrups；　held　his　hat　at　arms'　length　over　his　head。　So　he　thrilled　to　a　moment　he　had　sought　for　two　years。　The　last　herd　of　American　bison　was　near　at　hand。　The　cow　would　not　venture　far　from　the　main　herd；　the　eight　stragglers　were　the　old　broken…down　bulls　that　had　been　expelled；　at　this　season；　from　the　herd　by　younger　and　more　vigorous　bulls。　The　old　monarchs　saw　the　hunter　at　the　same　time　his　eyes　were　gladdened　by　sight　of　them；　and　lumbered　away　after　the　cow；　to　disappear　in　the　gathering　darkness。　Frightened　buffalo　always　make　straight　for　their　fellows；　and　this　knowledge　contented　Jones　to　return　to　the　lake；　well　satisfied　that　the　herd　would　not　be　far　away　in　the　morning；　within　easy　striking　distance　by　daylight。

At　dark　the　storm　which　had　threatened　for　days；　broke　in　a　fury　of　rain；　sleet　and　hail。　The　hunters　stretched　a　piece　of　canvas　over　the　wheels　of　the　north　side　of　the　wagon；　and　wet　and　shivering；　crawled　under　it　to　their　blankets。　During　the　night　the　storm　raged　with　unabated　strength。

Dawn；　forbidding　and　raw；　lightened　to　the　whistle　of　the　sleety　gusts。　Fire　was　out　of　the　question。　Chary　of　weight；　the　hunters　had　carried　no　wood；　and　the　buffalo　chips　they　used　for　fuel　were　lumps　of　ice。　Grumbling；　Adams　and　Rude　ate　a　cold　breakfast；　while　Jones；　munching　a　biscuit；　faced　the　biting　blast　from　the　crest　of　the　ridge。　The　middle　of　the　plain　below　held　a　ragged；　circular　mass；　as　still　as　stone。　It　was　the　buffalo　herd；　with　every　shaggy　head　to　the　storm。　So　they　would　stand；　never　budging　from　their　tracks；　till　the　blizzard　of　sleet　was　over。

Jones；　though　eager　and　impatient；　restrained　himself；　for　it　was　unwise　to　begin　operations　in　the　storm。　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　wait。　Ill　fared　the　hunters　that　day。　Food　had　to　be　eaten　uncooked。　The　long　hours　dragged　by　with　the　little　group　huddled　under　icy　blankets。　When　darkness　fell；　the　sleet　changed　to　drizzling　rain。　This　blew　over　at　midnight；　and　a　colder　wind；　penetrating　to　the　very　marrow　of　the　sleepless　men；　made　their　condition　worse。　In　the　after　part　of　the　night；　the　wolves　howled　mournfully。

With　a　gray；　misty　light　appearing　in　the　east；　Jones　threw　off　his　stiff；　ice…incased　blanket；　and　crawled　out。　A　gaunt　gray　wolf；　the　color　of　the　day　and　the　sand　and　the　lake；　sneaked　away；　looking　back。　While　moving　and　threshing　about　to　warm　his　frozen　blood；　Jones　munched　another　biscuit。　Five　men　crawled　from　under　the　wagon；　and　made　an　unfruitful　search　for　the　whisky。　Fearing　it；　Jones　had　thrown　the　bottle　away。　The　men　cursed。　The　patient　horses　drooped　sadly；　and　shivered　in　the　lee　of　the　improvised　tent。　Jones　kicked　the　inch…thick　casing　of　ice　from　his　saddle。　Kentuck；　his　racer；　had　been　spared　on　the　whole　trip　for　this　day's　work。　The　thoroughbred　was　cold；　but　as　Jones　threw　the　saddle　over　him；　he　showed　that　he　knew　the　chase　ahead；　and　was　eager　to　be　off。　At　last；　after　repeated　efforts　with　his　benumbed　fingers；　Jones　got　the　girths　tight。　He　tied　a　bunch　of　soft　cords　to　the　saddle　and　mounted。

〃Follow　as　fast　as　you　can；〃　he　called　to　his　surly　men。　〃The　buffs　will　run　north　against　the　wind。　This　is　the　right　direction　for　us；　we'll　soon　leave　the　sand。　Stick　to　my　trail　and　come　a…humming。〃

From　the　ridge　he　met　the　red　sun；　rising　bright；　and　a　keen　northeasterly　wind　that　lashed　like　a　whip。　As　he　had　anticipated；　his　quarry　had　moved　northward。　Kentuck　let　out　into　a　swinging　stride；　which　in　an　hour　had　the　loping　herd　in　sight。　Every　jump　now　took　him　upon　higher　ground；　where　the　sand　failed；　and　the　grass　grew　thicker　and　began　to　bend　under　the　wind。

In　the　teeth　of　the　nipping　gale　Jones　slipped　close　upon　the　herd　without　alarming　even　a　cow。　More　than　a　hundred　little　reddish…black　calves　leisurely　loped　in　the　rear。　Kentuck；　keen　to　his　work；　crept　on　like　a　wolf；　and　the　hunter's　great　fist　clenched　the　coiled　lasso。　Before　him　expanded　a　boundless　plain。　A　situation　long　cherished　and　dreamed　of　had　become　a　reality。　Kentuck；　fresh　and　strong；　was　good　for　all　day。　Jones　gloated　over　the　little　red　bulls　and　heifers；　as　a　miser　gloats　over　gold　and　jewels。　Never　before　had　he　caught　more　than　two　in　one　day；　and　often　it　had　taken　days　to　capture　one。　This　was　the　last　herd；　this　the　last　opportunity　toward　perpetuating　a　grand　race　of　beasts。　And　with　born　instinct　he　saw　ahead　the　day　of　his　life。

At　a　touch；　Kentuck　closed　in；　and　the　buffalo；　seeing　him；　stampeded　into　the　heaving　roll　so　well　known　to　the　hunter。　Racing　on　the　right　flank　of　the　herd；　Jones　selected　a　tawny　heifer　and　shot　the　lariat　after　her。　It　fell　true；　but　being　stiff　and　kinky　from　the　sleet；　failed　to　tighten；　and　the　quick　calf　leaped　through　the　loop　to　freedom。

Undismayed　the　pursuer　quickly　recovered　his　rope。　Again　he　whirled　and　sent　the　loop。　Again　it　circled　true；　and　failed　to　close；　again　the　agile　heifer　bounded　through　it。　Jones　whipped　the　air　with　the　stubborn　rope。　To　lose　a　chance　like　that　was　worse　than　boy's　work。

The　third　whirl；　running　a　smaller　loop；　tightened　the　coil　round　the　frightened　calf　just　back　of　its　ears。　A　pull　on　the　bridle　brought　Kentuck　to　a　halt　in　his　tracks；　and　the　baby　buffalo　rolled　over　and　over　in　the　grass。　Jones　bounced　from　his　seat　and　jerked　loose　a　couple　of　the　soft　cords。　In　a　twinkling；　his　big　knee　crushed　down　on　the　calf；　and　his　big　hands　bound　it　helpless。

Kentuck　neighed。　Jones　saw　his　black　ears　go　up。　Danger　threatened。　For　a　moment　the　hunter's　blood　turned　chill；　not　from　fear；　for　he　never　felt　fear；　but　because　he　thought　the　Indians　were　returning　to　ruin　his　work。　His　eye　swept　the　plain。　Only　the　gray　forms　of　wolves　flitted　through　the　grass；　here；　there；　all　about　him。　Wolves！　They　were　as　fatal　to　his　enterprise　as　savages。　A　trooping　pack　of　prairie　wolves　had　fallen　in　with　the　herd　and　hung　close　on　the　trail；　trying　to　cut　a　calf　away　from　its　mother。　The　gray　brutes　boldly　trotted　to　within　a　few　yards　of　him；　and　slyly　looked　at　him；　with　pale；　fiery　eyes。　They　had　already　scented　his　captive。　Precious　time　flew　by；　the　situation；　critical　and　baffling；　had　never　before　been　met　by　him。　There　lay　his　little　calf　tied　fast；　and　to　the　north　ran　many　others；　some　of　which　he　musthe　would　have。　To　think　quickly　had　meant　the　solving　of　many　a　plainsman's　problem。　Should　he　stay　with　his　prize　to　save　it；　or　leave　it　to　be　devoured？

〃Ha！　you　old　gray　devils！〃　he　yelled；　shaking　his　fist　at　the　wolves。　〃I　know　a　trick　or　two。〃　Slipping　his　hat　between　the　legs　of　the　calf；　he　fastened　it　securely。　This　done；　he　vaulted　on　Kentuck；　and　was　off　with　never　a　backward　glance。　Certain　it　was　that　the　wolves　would　not　touch　anything；　alive　or　dead；　that　bore　the　scent　of　a　human　being。

The　bison　scoured　away　a　long　half…mile　in　the　lead；　sailing　northward　like　a　cloud…shadow　over　t