to the last man-第15章
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been imposed upon an' weaned away by his lies an' had regretted me a
little I'd have forgiven； perhaps。 But she worshiped him。 She was his
slave。 An' I； wal； I learned what hate was。
〃The war ruined the Suttons； same as so many Southerners。 Lee Jorth
went in for raisin' cattle。 He'd gotten the Sutton range an' after a
few years he began to accumulate stock。 In those days every cattleman
was a little bit of a thief。 Every cattleman drove in an' branded
calves he couldn't swear was his。 Wal； the Isbels were the strongest
cattle raisers in that country。 An' I laid a trap for Lee Jorth；
caught him in the act of brandin' calves of mine I'd marked； an' I
proved him a thief。 I made him a rustler。 I ruined him。 We met once。
But Jorth was one Texan not strong on the draw； at least against an
Isbel。 He left the country。 He had friends an' relatives an' they
started him at stock raisin' again。 But he began to gamble an' he
got in with a shady crowd。 He went from bad to worse an' then he
came back home。 When I saw the change in proud； beautiful Ellen Sutton；
an' how she still worshiped Jorth； it shore drove me near mad between
pity an' hate。 。 。 。 Wal； I reckon in a Texan hate outlives any other
feelin'。 There came a strange turn of the wheel an' my fortunes changed。
Like most young bloods of the day； I drank an' gambled。 An' one night
I run across Jorth an' a card…sharp friend。 He fleeced me。 We quarreled。
Guns were thrown。 I killed my man。 。 。 。 Aboot that period the Texas
Rangers had come into existence。 。 。 。 An'； son； when I said I never
was run out of Texas I wasn't holdin' to strict truth。 I rode out on
a hoss。
〃I went to Oregon。 There I married soon； an' there Bill an' Guy were
born。 Their mother did not live long。 An' next I married your mother；
Jean。 She had some Indian blood； which； for all I could see； made her
only the finer。 She was a wonderful woman an' gave me the only
happiness I ever knew。 You remember her； of course； an' those home
days in Oregon。 I reckon I made another great blunder when I moved
to Arizona。 But the cattle country had always called me。 I had heard
of this wild Tonto Basin an' how Texans were settlin' there。 An' Jim
Blaisdell sent me word to comethat this shore was a garden spot of
the West。 Wal； it is。 An' your mother was gone
〃Three years ago Lee Jorth drifted into the Tonto。 An'； strange to me；
along aboot a year or so after his comin' the Hash Knife Gang rode up
from Texas。 Jorth went in for raisin' sheep。 Along with some other
sheepmen he lives up in the Rim canyons。 Somewhere back in the wild
brakes is the hidin' place of the Hash Knife Gang。 Nobody but me；
I reckon； associates Colonel Jorth； as he's called； with Daggs an'
his gang。 Maybe Blaisdell an' a few others have a hunch。 But that's
no matter。 As a sheepman Jorth has a legitimate grievance with the
cattlemen。 But what could be settled by a square consideration for
the good of all an' the future Jorth will never settle。 He'll never
settle because he is now no longer an honest man。 He's in with Daggs。
I cain't prove this； son； but I know it。 I saw it in Jorth's face
when I met him that day with Greaves。 I saw more。 I shore saw what
he is up to。 He'd never meet me at an even break。 He's dead set on
usin' this sheep an' cattle feud to ruin my family an' me； even as I
ruined him。 But he means more； Jean。 This will be a war between
Texans； an' a bloody war。 There are bad men in this Tontosome of
the worst that didn't get shot in Texas。 Jorth will have some of
these fellows。 。 。 。 Now； are we goin' to wait to be sheeped off
our range an' to be murdered from ambush？〃
〃No； we are not；〃 replied Jean； quietly。
〃Wal； come down to the house；〃 said the rancher； and led the way
without speaking until he halted by the door。 There he placed his
finger on a small hole in the wood at about the height of a man's head。
Jean saw it was a bullet hole and that a few gray hairs stuck to its
edges。 The rancher stepped closer to the door…post； so that his head
was within an inch of the wood。 Then he looked at Jean with eyes in
which there glinted dancing specks of fire； like wild sparks。
〃Son； this sneakin' shot at me was made three mawnin's ago。 I recollect
movin' my haid just when I heard the crack of a rifle。 Shore was
surprised。 But I got inside quick。〃
Jean scarcely heard the latter part of this speech。 He seemed doubled
up inwardly； in hot and cold convulsions of changing emotion。 A
terrible hold upon his consciousness was about to break and let go。
The first shot had been fired and he was an Isbel。 Indeed； his father
had made him ten times an Isbel。 Blood was thick。 His father did not
speak to dull ears。 This strife of rising tumult in him seemed the
effect of years of calm； of peace in the woods； of dreamy waiting for
he knew not what。 It was the passionate primitive life in him that had
awakened to the call of blood ties。
〃That's aboot all； son；〃 concluded the rancher。 〃You understand now
why I feel they're goin' to kill me。 I feel it heah。〃 With solemn
gesture he placed his broad hand over his heart。 〃An'； Jean； strange
whispers come to me at night。 It seems like your mother was callin'
or tryin' to warn me。 I cain't explain these queer whispers。 But I
know what I know。〃
〃Jorth has his followers。 You must have yours；〃 replied Jean； tensely。
〃Shore； son； an' I can take my choice of the best men heah；〃 replied
the rancher； with pride。 〃But I'll not do that。 I'll lay the deal
before them an' let them choose。 I reckon it 'll not be a long…winded
fight。 It 'll be short an bloody； after the way of Texans。 I'm lookin'
to you； Jean； to see that an Isbel is the last man！〃
〃My Goddad！ is there no other way？ Think of my sister Annof my
brothers' wivesofof other women！ Dad； these damned Texas feuds
are cruel； horrible！〃 burst out Jean； in passionate protest。
〃Jean； would it be any easier for our women if we let these men shoot
us down in cold blood？〃
〃Oh nono； I see； there's no hope ofof。 。 。 。 But； dad； I wasn't
thinkin' about myself。 I don't care。 Once started I'llI'll be
what you bragged I was。 Only it's so hard to…to give in。〃
Jean leaned an arm against the side of the cabin and； bowing his face
over it； he surrendered to the irresistible contention within his
breast。 And as if with a wrench that strange inward hold broke。
He let down。 He went back。 Something that was boyish and hopefuland
in its place slowly rose the dark tide of his inheritance； the savage
instinct of self…preservation bequeathed by his Indian mother； and the
fierce； feudal blood lust of his Texan father。
Then as he raised himself； gripped by a sickening coldness in his
breast； he remembered Ellen Jorth's face as she had gazed dreamily
down off the Rimso soft； so different； with tremulous lips； sad；
musing； with far…seeing stare of dark eyes； peering into the unknown；
the instinct of life still unlived。 With confused vision and nameless
pain Jean thought of her。
〃Dad； it's hard onthethe young folks；〃 he said； bitterly。 〃The
sins of the father； you know。 An' the other side。 How about Jorth？
Has he any children？〃
What a curious gleam of surprise and conjecture Jean encountered
in his father's gaze！
〃He has a daughter。 Ellen Jorth。 Named after her mother。 The first
time I saw Ellen Jorth I thought she was a ghost of the girl I had
loved an' lost。 Sight of her was like a blade in my side。 But the
looks of her an' what she isthey don't gibe。 Old as I am； my
heartBah！ Ellen Jorth is a damned hussy！〃
Jean Isbel went off alone into the cedars。 Surrender and resignation
to his father's creed should have ended his perplexity and worry。
His instant and burning resolve to be as his father had represented
him should have opened his mind to slow cunning； to the craft of the
Indian； to the development of hate。 But there seemed to be an obstacle。
A cloud in the way of vision。 A face limned on his memory。
Those damning words of his father's had been a shockhow little or
great he could not tell。 Was it only a day since he had met Ellen
Jorth？ What had made
