[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
racketing against the solemn hills.
The echo lost itself against the snow-clad hillsides and I remained still,
shivering a little in the cold, alone in a vast world of sky and snow,
scarcely willing to accept what my ears had heard.
A shot... here!
It had come from the canyon below. Someone was down there! Someone was at or
near Ange's cave.
Here? In this place?
Page 59
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
XIII
A sudden crack of ice . . . the breaking of a tree laden with snow? . . . No.
This had been a , clear, sharp, unmistakable.
said, you ain't... aren't... alone. Who knew of the cave below? Or of the
valley? Ange, so far as I knew. Cap knew what I'ld told him, but Cap couldn't
have made it up there if I'd given exact directions, which I hadn't. His hold
on life was still too weak.
-Ange . . . ? That was mighty foolish to consider. She had no reason for
coming up. Whoever had been following me down below? Could they have found
some way into that valley? that seemed the most likely.
If I started for the canyon now it would be full dark before I got there, and
I'd see nothing anyway. The thing to do would be to go back to the mine and
hole up there until daybreak. One thing was a copper-riveted cinch. If those
were in the canyon they were snowed in like I was, and, unless I was much
mistaken, they were a lot less able to cope with it.
We Sacketts had never had much to do with, and back in the mountains we
learned to make out on mighty little, but we learned how to rustle. There
wasn't one of us boys who hadn't traveled miles by himself and lived off the
country before he was sixteen.
Since then I'd had very little but rough time, what with soldiering and all.
A Montana-from-Texas cattle drive is not exactly a place for softening up, and
it seemed like I'd spent half my life getting along on less than nothing.
Hardship was a way of life to me, and there were few times when I wasn't
hungry, cold, or fighting rough country for a living. Being snowed in up here
in these mountains wasn't a pleasant thing, but somehow I'd survive. But those
others now ... ?
When I got back to camp the horses were close around the cave. I brought them
inside and wiped them off. Mostly I fussed over them to keep their spirits up.
They were smart enough to know we were in trouble, but being cared for made
them confident that all was well.
I wished I could be so sure myself.
When I had my fire going I took off my sheepskin coat and shed my vest before
putting the coat back on. I always try to have a little something extra to put
on when out in cold weather. Main thing a man has to avoid is sweating. When
he stops moving that sweat can freeze into an icy sheet inside the clothes.
I fixed myself some grub, and sat by the fire with Blackstone open. Time to
time, I'd squint in the firelight to make something out.
These last few months, after I went to bed, sometimes I'd lie awake into the
night, a-contem-plating things I'd read, or trying to say things, using the
words taken from that book. By the time spring came I had hoped my talking
would be better.
And, time to time, I had thought of Ange. . . . About the time I was doing
for her and she was half-dead from starvation and exhaustion, when I thought
maybe this was my woman. I spent a sight of time daydreaming around, just
contemplating her, and all about her.
But there wasn't much left to think about She'd made that plain the other
Page 60
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
night in the store. Might have been better to let Batch shoot me. Only I
didn't believe that. I've heard of men killing themselves over a woman most
fool thing I ever heard
Women are practical. They get right down to bedrock about things, and no
woman is going to waste much time remembering a man who was fool enough to
kill himself. Thing to do is live for love,
Though most women-folks would a sight rather see a man dead than with another
woman.
Only that evening alone, with the fire bright in .the cave, I got something
all bunched up in my throaty Just a-wishing and a-dreaming over Ange and that
red-gold hair.
After I'd eaten, I packed a bait of grub for morning, fixed over my snowshoes
a mite, and settled down for the night, stowing the book away in my saddlebag.
A good hour before suntime I rolled out of my soogan and stowed it away. I
fixed myself some breakfast and went down to the creek with the horses.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]