the man of the forest-第1章

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The　Man　of　the　Forest


by　Zane　Grey







CHAPTER　I

At　sunset　hour　the　forest　was　still；　lonely；　sweet　with　tang
of　fir　and　spruce；　blazing　in　gold　and　red　and　green；　and
the　man　who　glided　on　under　the　great　trees　seemed　to　blend
with　the　colors　and；　disappearing；　to　have　become　a　part　of
the　wild　woodland。

Old　Baldy；　highest　of　the　White　Mountains；　stood　up　round
and　bare；　rimmed　bright　gold　in　the　last　glow　of　the　setting
sun。　　Then；　as　the　fire　dropped　behind　the　domed　peak；　a
change；　a　cold　and　darkening　blight；　passed　down　the　black
spear…pointed　slopes　over　all　that　mountain　world。

It　was　a　wild；　richly　timbered；　and　abundantly　watered
region　of　dark　forests　and　grassy　parks；　ten　thousand　feet
above　sea…level；　isolated　on　all　sides　by　the　southern
Arizona　desert　　the　virgin　home　of　elk　and　deer；　of　bear
and　lion；　of　wolf　and　fox；　and　the　birthplace　as　well　as　the
hiding…place　of　the　fierce　Apache。

September　in　that　latitude　was　marked　by　the　sudden　cool
night　breeze　following　shortly　after　sundown。　　Twilight
appeared　to　come　on　its　wings；　as　did　faint　sounds；　not
distinguishable　before　in　the　stillness。

Milt　Dale；　man　of　the　forest；　halted　at　the　edge　of　a
timbered　ridge；　to　listen　and　to　watch。　　Beneath　him　lay　a
narrow　valley；　open　and　grassy；　from　which　rose　a　faint
murmur　of　running　water。　　Its　music　was　pierced　by　the　wild
staccato　yelp　of　a　hunting　coyote。　　From　overhead　in　the
giant　fir　came　a　twittering　and　rustling　of　grouse　settling
for　the　night；　and　from　across　the　valley　drifted　the　last
low　calls　of　wild　turkeys　going　to　roost。

To　Dale's　keen　ear　these　sounds　were　all　they　should　have
been；　betokening　an　unchanged　serenity　of　forestland。　　He　was
glad；　for　he　had　expected　to　hear　the　clipclop　of　white
men's　horses　　which　to　hear　up　in　those　fastnesses　was
hateful　to　him。　　He　and　the　Indian　were　friends。　　That　fierce
foe　had　no　enmity　toward　the　lone　hunter。　　But　there　hid
somewhere　in　the　forest　a　gang　of　bad　men；　sheep…thieves；
whom　Dale　did　not　want　to　meet。

As　he　started　out　upon　the　slope；　a　sudden　flaring　of　the
afterglow　of　sunset　flooded　down　from　Old　Baldy；　filling　the
valley　with　lights　and　shadows；　yellow　and　blue；　like　the
radiance　of　the　sky。　　The　pools　in　the　curves　of　the　brook
shone　darkly　bright。　　Dale's　gaze　swept　up　and　down　the
valley；　and　then　tried　to　pierce　the　black　shadows　across
the　brook　where　the　wall　of　spruce　stood　up；　its　speared　and
spiked　crest　against　the　pale　clouds。　　The　wind　began　to　moan
in　the　trees　and　there　was　a　feeling　of　rain　in　the　air。
Dale；　striking　a　trail；　turned　his　back　to　the　fading
afterglow　and　strode　down　the　valley。

With　night　at　hand　and　a　rain…storm　brewing；　he　did　not　head
for　his　own　camp；　some　miles　distant；　but　directed　his　steps
toward　an　old　log　cabin。　　When　he　reached　it　darkness　had
almost　set　in。　　He　approached　with　caution。　　This　cabin；　like
the　few　others　scattered　in　the　valleys；　might　harbor
Indians　or　a　bear　or　a　panther。　　Nothing；　however；　appeared
to　be　there。　　Then　Dale　studied　the　clouds　driving　across　the
sky；　and　he　felt　the　cool　dampness　of　a　fine；　misty　rain　on
his　face。　　It　would　rain　off　and　on　during　the　night。
Whereupon　he　entered　the　cabin。

And　the　next　moment　he　heard　quick　hoof…beats　of　trotting
horses。　　Peering　out；　he　saw　dim；　moving　forms　in　the
darkness；　quite　close　at　hand。　　They　had　approached　against
the　wind　so　that　sound　had　been　deadened。　　Five　horses　with
riders；　Dale　made　out　　saw　them　loom　close。　　Then　he　heard
rough　voices。　　Quickly　he　turned　to　feel　in　the　dark　for　a
ladder　he　knew　led　to　a　loft；　and　finding　it；　he　quickly
mounted；　taking　care　not　to　make　a　noise　with　his　rifle；　and
lay　down　upon　the　floor　of　brush　and　poles。　　Scarcely　had　he
done　so　when　heavy　steps；　with　accompaniment　of　clinking
spurs；　passed　through　the　door　below　into　the　cabin。

〃Wal；　Beasley；　are　you　here？〃　queried　a　loud　voice。

There　was　no　reply。　　The　man　below　growled　under　his　breath；
and　again　the　spurs　jingled。

〃Fellars；　Beasley　ain't　here　yet；〃　he　called。　　〃Put　the
hosses　under　the　shed。　　We'll　wait。〃

〃Wait；　huh！〃　came　a　harsh　reply。　　〃Mebbe　all　night　　an'　we
got　nuthin'　to　eat。〃

〃Shut　up；　Moze。　　Reckon　you're　no　good　for　anythin'　but
eatin'。　　Put　them　hosses　away　an'　some　of　you　rustle
fire…wood　in　here。〃

Low；　muttered　curses；　then　mingled　with　dull　thuds　of　hoofs
and　strain　of　leather　and　heaves　of　tired　horses。

Another　shuffling；　clinking　footstep　entered　the　cabin。

〃Snake；　it'd　been　sense　to　fetch　a　pack　along；〃　drawled　this
newcomer。

〃Reckon　so；　Jim。　　But　we　didn't；　an'　what's　the　use
hollerin'？　　Beasley　won't　keep　us　waitin'　long。〃

Dale；　lying　still　and　prone；　felt　a　slow　start　in　all　his
blood　　a　thrilling　wave。　　That　deep…voiced　man　below　was
Snake　Anson；　the　worst　and　most　dangerous　character　of　the
region；　and　the　others；　undoubtedly；　composed　his　gang；　long
notorious　in　that　sparsely　settle　country。　　And　the　Beasley
mentioned　　he　was　one　of　the　two　biggest　ranchers　and
sheep…raisers　of　the　White　Mountain　ranges。　　What　was　the
meaning　of　a　rendezvous　between　Snake　Anson　and　Beasley？
Milt　Dale　answered　that　question　to　Beasley's　discredit；　and
many　strange　matters　pertaining　to　sheep　and　herders；　always
a　mystery　to　the　little　village　of　Pine；　now　became　as　clear
as　daylight。

Other　men　entered　the　cabin。

〃It　ain't　a…goin'　to　rain　much；〃　said　one。　　Then　came　a　crash
of　wood　thrown　to　the　ground。

〃Jim；　hyar's　a　chunk　of　pine　log；　dry　as　punk；〃　said
another。

Rustlings　and　slow　footsteps；　and　then　heavy　thuds　attested
to　the　probability　that　Jim　was　knocking　the　end　of　a　log
upon　the　ground　to　split　off　a　corner　whereby　a　handful　of
dry　splinters　could　be　procured。

〃Snake；　lemme　your　pipe；　an'　I'll　hev　a　fire　in　a　jiffy。〃

〃Wal；　I　want　my　terbacco　an'　I　ain't　carin'　about　no　fire；〃
replied　Snake。

〃Reckon　you're　the　meanest　cuss　in　these　woods；〃　drawled
Jim。

Sharp　click　of　steel　on　flint　　many　times　　and　then　a
sound　of　hard　blowing　and　sputtering　told　of　Jim's　efforts
to　start　a　fire。　　Presently　the　pitchy　blackness　of　the　cabin
changed；　there　came　a　little　crackling　of　wood　and　the
rustle　of　flame；　and　then　a　steady　growing　roar。

As　it　chanced；　Dale　lay　face　down　upon　the　floor　of　the
loft；　and　right　near　his　eyes　there　were　cracks　between　the
boughs。　　When　the　fire　blazed　up　he　was　fairly　well　able　to
see　the　men　below。　　The　only　one　he　had　ever　seen　was　Jim
Wilson；　who　had　been　well　known　at　Pine　before　Snake　Anson
had　ever　been　heard　of。　　Jim　was　the　best　of　a　bad　lot；　and
he　had　friends　among　the　honest　people。　　It　was　rumored　that
he　and　Snake　did　not　pull　well　together。

〃Fire　feels　good；〃　said　the　burly　Moze；　who　appeared　as
broad　as　he　was　black…visaged。　　〃Fall's　sure　a…comin'。　。　。
Now　if　only　we　had　some　grub！〃

〃Moze；　there's　a　hunk　of　deer　meat　in　my　saddle…bag；　an'　if
you　git　it　you　can　have　half；〃　spoke　up　another　voice。

Moze　shuffled　out　with　alacrity。

In　the　firelight　Snake　Anson's　face　looked　lean　and
serpent…like；　his　eyes　glittered；　and　his　long　neck　and　all
of　his　long　length　carried　out　the　analogy　of　his　name。

〃Snake；　what's　this　here　deal　with　Beasley？〃　inquired　Jim。

〃Reckon　you'll　l'arn　when　I　do；〃　replied　the　leader。　　He
appeared　tired　and　thoughtful。

〃Ain't　we　done　away　with　enough　of　them　poor　greaser　herders
　for　nothin'？〃　queried　the　youngest　of　the　gang；　a　boy　in
years；　whose　hard；　bitter　lips　and　hungry　eyes　somehow　set
him　apart　from　his　comrades。

〃You're　dead　right；　Burt　　an'　that's　my　stand；〃　replied
the　man　who　had　sent　Moze　out。　　〃Snake；　snow　'll　be　flyin'
round　these　woods　before　long；〃　said　Jim　Wilson。　　〃Are　we
goin'　to　winter　down　in　the　Tonto　Basin　or　over　on　the
Gila？〃

〃Reckon　we'll　do　some　tall　ridin'　before　we　strike　south；〃
replied　Snake；　gruffly。

At　the　juncture　Moze　returned。

〃Boss；　I　heerd　a　hoss　comin'　up　the　trail；〃　he　said。

Snake　rose　and　stood　at　the　door；　listening。　　Outside　the
wind　moaned　fitfully　and　scattering　raindrops　pattered　upon
the　cabin。

〃A…huh！〃　exclaimed　Snake；　in　relief。

Silence　ensued　then　for　a　moment；　at　the　end