to the last man-第17章
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Ellen helped Pepe drive in the stragglers； and she took several shots
at coyotes skulking along the edge of the brush。 The open glade in
the forest was favorable for herding the sheep at night； and the dogs
could be depended upon to guard the flock； and in most cases to drive
predatory beasts away。
After this task； which brought the time to sunset； Ellen had supper
to cook and eat。 Darkness came； and a cool night wind set in。
Here and there a lamb bleated plaintively。 With her work done for
the day； Ellen sat before a ruddy camp fire； and found her thoughts
again centering around the singular adventure that had befallen her。
Disdainfully she strove to think of something else。 But there was
nothing that could dispel the interest of her meeting with Jean Isbel。
Thereupon she impatiently surrendered to it； and recalled every word
and action which she could remember。 And in the process of this
meditation she came to an action of hers； recollection of which
brought the blood tingling to her neck and cheeks； so unusually
and burningly that she covered them with her hands。 〃What did he
think of me？〃 she mused； doubtfully。 It did not matter what he
thought； but she could not help wondering。 And when she came to
the memory of his kiss she suffered more than the sensation of
throbbing scarlet cheeks。 Scornfully and bitterly she burst out；
〃Shore he couldn't have thought much good of me。〃
The half hour following this reminiscence was far from being pleasant。
Proud； passionate； strong…willed Ellen Jorth found herself a victim of
conflicting emotions。 The event of the day was too close。 She could
not understand it。 Disgust and disdain and scorn could not make this
meeting with Jean Isbel as if it had never been。 Pride could not efface
it from her mind。 The more she reflected； the harder she tried to
forget； the stronger grew a significance of interest。 And when a hint
of this dawned upon her consciousness she resented it so forcibly that
she lost her temper； scattered the camp fire； and went into the little
teepee tent to roll in her blankets。
Thus settled snug and warm for the night； with a shepherd dog curled
at the opening of her tent； she shut her eyes and confidently bade
sleep end her perplexities。 But sleep did not come at her invitation。
She found herself wide awake； keenly sensitive to the sputtering of
the camp fire； the tinkling of bells on the rams； the bleating of lambs；
the sough of wind in the pines； and the hungry sharp bark of coyotes
off in the distance。 Darkness was no respecter of her pride。 The
lonesome night with its emphasis of solitude seemed to induce clamoring
and strange thoughts； a confusing ensemble of all those that had annoyed
her during the daytime。 Not for long hours did sheer weariness bring
her to slumber。
Ellen awakened late and failed of her usual alacrity。 Both Pepe and
the shepherd dog appeared to regard her with surprise and solicitude。
Ellen's spirit was low this morning； her blood ran sluggishly； she had
to fight a mournful tendency to feel sorry for herself。 And at first
she was not very successful。 There seemed to be some kind of pleasure
in reveling in melancholy which her common sense told her had no reason
for existence。 But states of mind persisted in spite of common sense。
〃Pepe； when is Antonio comin' back？〃 she asked。
The boy could not give her a satisfactory answer。 Ellen had willingly
taken the sheep herder's place for a few days； but now she was impatient
to go home。 She looked down the green…and…brown aisles of the forest
until she was tired。 Antonio did not return。 Ellen spent the day with
the sheep； and in the manifold task of caring for a thousand new…born
lambs she forgot herself。 This day saw the end of lambing…time for that
season。 The forest resounded to a babel of baas and bleats。 When night
came she was glad to go to bed； for what with loss of sleep； and
weariness she could scarcely keep her eyes open。
The following morning she awakened early； bright； eager； expectant；
full of bounding life； strangely aware of the beauty and sweetness
of the scented forest； strangely conscious of some nameless stimulus
to her feelings。
Not long was Ellen in associating this new and delightful variety of
sensations with the fact that Jean Isbel had set to…day for his ride
up to the Rim to see her。 Ellen's joyousness fled； her smiles faded。
The spring morning lost its magic radiance。
〃Shore there's no sense in my lyin' to myself；〃 she soliloquized；
thoughtfully。 〃It's queer of mefeelin' glad aboot himwithout
knowin'。 Lord！ I must be lonesome！ To be glad of seein' an Isbel；
even if he is different！〃
Soberly she accepted the astounding reality。 Her confidence died
with her gayety； her vanity began to suffer。 And she caught at her
admission that Jean Isbel was different； she resented it in amaze；
she ridiculed it； she laughed at her naive confession。 She could
arrive at no conclusion other than that she was a weak…minded；
fluctuating； inexplicable little fool。
But for all that she found her mind had been made up for her； without
consent or desire； before her will had been consulted； and that
inevitably and unalterably she meant to see Jean Isbel again。
Long she battled with this strange decree。 One moment she won
a victory over； this new curious self； only to lose it the next。
And at last out of her conflict there emerged a few convictions
that left her with some shreds of pride。 She hated all Isbels；
she hated any Isbel； and particularly she hated Jean Isbel。 She was
only curiousintensely curious to see if he would come back； and if
he did come what he would do。 She wanted only to watch him from some
covert。 She would not go near him； not let him see her or guess of
her presence。
Thus she assuaged her hurt vanitythus she stifled her miserable doubts。
Long before the sun had begun to slant westward toward the
mid…afternoon Jean Isbel had set as a meeting time Ellen directed
her steps through the forest to the Rim。 She felt ashamed of her
eagerness。 She had a guilty conscience that no strange thrills could
silence。 It would be fun to see him； to watch him； to let him wait
for her； to fool him。
Like an Indian； she chose the soft pine…needle mats to tread upon；
and her light…moccasined feet left no trace。 Like an Indian also she
made a wide detour； and reached the Rim a quarter of a mile west of the
spot where she had talked with Jean Isbel； and here； turning east； she
took care to step on the bare stones。 This was an adventure； seemingly
the first she had ever had in her life。 Assuredly she had never before
come directly to the Rim without halting to look； to wonder； to worship。
This time she scarcely glanced into the blue abyss。 All absorbed was
she in hiding her tracks。 Not one chance in a thousand would she risk。
The Jorth pride burned even while the feminine side of her dominated
her actions。 She had some difficult rocky points to cross； then
windfalls to round； and at length reached the covert she desired。
A rugged yellow point of the Rim stood somewhat higher than the spot
Ellen wanted to watch。 A dense thicket of jack pines grew to the
very edge。 It afforded an ambush that even the Indian eyes Jean
Isbel was credited with could never penetrate。 Moreover； if by
accident she made a noise and excited suspicion； she could retreat
unobserved and hide in the huge rocks below the Rim； where a ferret
could not locate her。
With her plan decided upon； Ellen had nothing to do but wait；
so she repaired to the other side of the pine thicket and to the
edge of the Rim where she could watch and listen。 She knew that
long before she saw Isbel she would hear his horse。 It was altogether
unlikely that he would come on foot。
〃Shore； Ellen Jorth； y'u're a queer girl；〃 she mused。 〃I reckon I
wasn't well acquainted with y'u。〃
Beneath her yawned a wonderful deep canyon； rugged and rocky with but
few pines on the north slope； thick with dark green timber on the
south slope。 Yellow and gray crags； like turreted castles； stood up
out of the sloping forest on the side opposite her。 The trees were
all sharp； s
