to the last man-第11章
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warmth of the welcome still lingered； but it seemed to have been
pierced by an icy thrust。 What lay before him？ The shadow in the
eyes of his aunt； in the younger； fresher eyes of his sisterJean
connected that with the meaning of his father's tragic words。 Far
past was the morning that had been so keen； the breaking of camp in
the sunlit forest； the riding down the brown aisles under the pines；
the music of bleating lambs that had called him not to pass by。
Thought of Ellen Jorth recurred。 Had he met her only that morning？
She was up there in the forest； asleep under the starlit pines。
Who was she？ What was her story？ That savage fling of her skirt；
her bitter speech and passionate flaming facethey haunted Jean。
They were crystallizing into simpler memories； growing away from
his bewilderment； and therefore at once sweeter and more doubtful。
〃Maybe she meant differently from what I thought；〃 Jean soliloquized。
〃Anyway； she was honest。〃 Both shame and thrill possessed him at the
recall of an insidious ideadare he go back and find her and give her
the last package of gifts he had brought from the city？ What might
they mean to poor； ragged； untidy； beautiful Ellen Jorth？ The idea
grew on Jean。 It could not be dispelled。 He resisted stubbornly。
It was bound to go to its fruition。 Deep into his mind had sunk an
impression of her needa material need that brought spirit and pride
to abasement。 From one picture to another his memory wandered； from
one speech and act of hers to another； choosing； selecting； casting
aside； until clear and sharp as the stars shone the words； 〃Oh； I've
been kissed before！〃 That stung him now。 By whom？ Not by one man；
but by several； by many； she had meant。 Pshaw！ he had only been
sympathetic and drawn by a strange girl in the woods。 To…morrow
he would forget。 Work there was for him in Grass Valley。 And he
reverted uneasily to the remarks of his father until at last sleep
claimed him。
A cold nose against his cheek； a low whine； awakened Jean。 The big
dog Shepp was beside him； keen； wary； intense。 The night appeared
far advanced toward dawn。 Far away a cock crowed； the near…at…hand
one answered in clarion voice。 〃What is it； Shepp？〃 whispered Jean；
and he sat up。 The dog smelled or heard something suspicious to his
nature； but whether man or animal Jean could not tell。
CHAPTER III
The morning star； large； intensely blue…white； magnificent in its
dominance of the clear night sky； hung over the dim； dark valley
ramparts。 The moon had gone down and all the other stars were wan；
pale ghosts。
Presently the strained vacuum of Jean's ears vibrated to a low roar
of many hoofs。 It came from the open valley； along the slope to the
south。 Shepp acted as if he wanted the word to run。 Jean laid a hand
on the dog。 〃Hold on； Shepp；〃 he whispered。 Then hauling on his boots
and slipping into his coat Jean took his rifle and stole out into the
open。 Shepp appeared to be well trained； for it was evident that he
had a strong natural tendency to run off and hunt for whatever had
roused him。 Jean thought it more than likely that the dog scented an
animal of some kind。 If there were men prowling around the ranch Shepp；
might have been just as vigilant； but it seemed to Jean that the dog
would have shown less eagerness to leave him； or none at all。
In the stillness of the morning it took Jean a moment to locate the
direction of the wind； which was very light and coming from the south。
In fact that little breeze had borne the low roar of trampling hoofs。
Jean circled the ranch house to the right and kept along the slope at
the edge of the cedars。 It struck him suddenly how well fitted he was
for work of this sort。 All the work he had ever done； except for his
few years in school； had been in the open。 All the leisure he had ever
been able to obtain had been given to his ruling passion for hunting
and fishing。 Love of the wild had been born in Jean。 At this moment
he experienced a grim assurance of what his instinct and his training
might accomplish if directed to a stern and daring end。 Perhaps his
father understood this； perhaps the old Texan had some little reason
for his confidence。
Every few paces Jean halted to listen。 All objects； of course； were
indistinguishable in the dark…gray obscurity； except when he came close
upon them。 Shepp showed an increasing eagerness to bolt out into the
void。 When Jean had traveled half a mile from the house he heard a
scattered trampling of cattle on the run； and farther out a low
strangled bawl of a calf。 〃Ahuh！〃 muttered Jean。 〃Cougar or some
varmint pulled down that calf。〃 Then he discharged his rifle in the
air and yelled with all his might。 It was necessary then to yell again
to hold Shepp back。
Thereupon Jean set forth down the valley； and tramped out and across
and around； as much to scare away whatever had been after the stock
as to look for the wounded calf。 More than once he heard cattle moving
away ahead of him； but he could not see them。 Jean let Shepp go；
hoping the dog would strike a trail。 But Shepp neither gave tongue
nor came back。 Dawn began to break； and in the growing light Jean
searched around until at last he stumbled over a dead calf； lying in
a little bare wash where water ran in wet seasons。 Big wolf tracks
showed in the soft earth。 〃Lofers；〃 said Jean； as he knelt and just
covered one track with his spread hand。 〃We had wolves in Oregon；
but not as big as these。 。 。 。 Wonder where that half…wolf dog； Shepp；
went。 Wonder if he can be trusted where wolves are concerned。
I'll bet not； if there's a she…wolf runnin' around。〃
Jean found tracks of two wolves； and he trailed them out of the wash；
then lost them in the grass。 But； guided by their direction； he went
on and climbed a slope to the cedar line； where in the dusty patches
he found the tracks again。 〃Not scared much；〃 he muttered； as he noted
the slow trotting tracks。 〃Well； you old gray lofers； we're goin' to
clash。〃 Jean knew from many a futile hunt that wolves were the wariest
and most intelligent of wild animals in the quest。 From the top of a
low foothill he watched the sun rise； and then no longer wondered why
his father waxed eloquent over the beauty and location and luxuriance
of this grassy valley。 But it was large enough to make rich a good
many ranchers。 Jean tried to restrain any curiosity as to his father's
dealings in Grass Valley until the situation had been made clear。
Moreover； Jean wanted to love this wonderful country。 He wanted to be
free to ride and hunt and roam to his heart's content； and therefore
he dreaded hearing his father's claims。 But Jean threw off forebodings。
Nothing ever turned out so badly as it presaged。 He would think the
best until certain of the worst。 The morning was gloriously bright；
and already the frost was glistening wet on the stones。 Grass Valley
shone like burnished silver dotted with innumerable black spots。
Burros were braying their discordant messages to one another； the
colts were romping in the fields； stallions were whistling； cows
were bawling。 A cloud of blue smoke hung low over the ranch house；
slowly wafting away on the wind。 Far out in the valley a dark group
of horsemen were riding toward the village。 Jean glanced thoughtfully
at them and reflected that he seemed destined to harbor suspicion of
all men new and strange to him。 Above the distant village stood the
darkly green foothills leading up to the craggy slopes； and these
ending in the Rim； a red； black…fringed mountain front； beautiful
in the morning sunlight； lonely； serene； and mysterious against the
level skyline。 Mountains； ranges； distances unknown to Jean； always
called to himto come； to seek； to explore； to find； but no wild
horizon ever before beckoned to him as this one。 And the subtle vague
emotion that had gone to sleep with him last night awoke now hauntingly。
It took effort to dispel the desire to think； to wonder。
Upon his return to the house； he went around on the valley side；
so as to see the place by light of day。 His father had built for
permanence； and evidently there had been
