to the last man-第33章
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and these boys were not equal to the task of risking the sheep up
in the enemies' stronghold。
This flock was known to be grazing in a side draw； well up from
Grass Valley； where the brush afforded some protection from the sun；
and there was good water and a little feed。 Before Jean reached his
destination he heard a shot。 It was not a rifle shot； which fact
caused Jean a little concern。 Evarts and Bernardino had rifles；
but； to his knowledge； no small arms。 Jean rode up on one of the
black…brushed conical hills that rose on the south side of Grass Valley；
and from there he took a sharp survey of the country。 At first he made
out only cattle； and bare meadowland； and the low encircling ridges and
hills。 But presently up toward the head of the valley he descried a
bunch of horsemen riding toward the village。 He could not tell their
number。 That dark moving mass seemed to Jean to be instinct with life；
mystery； menace。 Who were they？ It was too far for him to recognize
horses； let alone riders。 They were moving fast； too。
Jean watched them out of sight； then turned his horse downhill again；
and rode on his quest。 A number of horsemen like that was a very
unusual sight around Grass Valley at any time。 What then did it portend
now？ Jean experienced a little shock of uneasy dread that was a new
sensation for him。 Brooding over this he proceeded on his way； at
length to turn into the draw where the camp of the sheep…herders was
located。 Upon coming in sight of it he heard a hoarse shout。 Young
Evarts appeared running frantically out of the brush。 Jean urged his
horse into a run and soon covered the distance between them。 Evarts
appeared beside himself with terror。
〃Boy！ what's the matter？〃 queried Jean； as he dismounted； rifle in hand；
peering quickly from Evarts's white face to the camp； and all around。
〃Ber…nardino！ Ber…nardino！〃 gasped the boy； wringing his hands and
pointing。
Jean ran the few remaining rods to the sheep camp。 He saw the little
teepee； a burned…out fire； a half…finished mealand then the Mexican
lad lying prone on the ground； dead； with a bullet hole in his ghastly
face。 Near him lay an old six…shooter。
〃Whose gun is that？〃 demanded Jean； as he picked it up。
〃Ber…nardino's；〃 replied Evarts； huskily。 〃Hehe jest got itthe
other day。〃
〃Did he shoot himself accidentally？〃
〃Oh no！ No！ He didn't do itatall。〃
〃Who did； then？〃
〃The menthey rode upa gang…they did it；〃 panted Evarts。
〃Did you know who they were？〃
〃No。 I couldn't tell。 I saw them comin' an' I was skeered。 Bernardino
had gone fer water。 I run an' hid in the brush。 I wanted to yell； but
they come too close。 。 。 。 Then I heerd them talkin'。 Bernardino come
back。 They 'peared friendly…like。 Thet made me raise up； to look。
An' I couldn't see good。 I heerd one of them ask Bernardino to let him
see his gun。 An' Bernardino handed it over。 He looked at the gun an'
haw…hawed； an' flipped it up in the air； an' when it fell back in his
hand itit went off bang！ 。 。 。 An' Bernardino dropped。 。 。 。 I hid
down close。 I was skeered stiff。 I heerd them talk more； but not what
they said。 Then they rode away。 。 。 。 An' I hid there till I seen
y'u comin'。〃
〃Have you got a horse？〃 queried Jean； sharply。
〃No。 But I can ride one of Bernardino's burros。〃
〃Get one。 Hurry over to Blaisdell。 Tell him to send word to Blue and
Gordon and Fredericks to ride like the devil to my father's ranch。
Hurry now！〃
Young Evarts ran off without reply。 Jean stood looking down at the
limp and pathetic figure of the Mexican boy。 〃By Heaven！〃 he exclaimed；
grimly 〃the Jorth…Isbel war is on！ 。 。 。 Deliberate； cold…blooded murder！
I'll gamble Daggs did this job。 He's been given the leadership。 He's
started it。 。 。 。 Bernardino； greaser or not； you were a faithful lad；
and you won't go long unavenged。〃
Jean had no time to spare。 Tearing a tarpaulin out of the teepee he
covered the lad with it and then ran for； his horse。 Mounting； he
galloped down the draw； over the little red ridges； out into the valley；
where he put his horse to a run。
Action changed the sickening horror that sight of Bernardino had
engendered。 Jean even felt a strange； grim relief。 The long； dragging
days of waiting were over。 Jorth's gang had taken the initiative。
Blood had begun to flow。 And it would continue to flow now till the
last man of one faction stood over the dead body of the last man of
the other。 Would it be a Jorth or an Isbel？ 〃My instinct was right；〃
he muttered； aloud。 〃That bunch of horses gave me a queer feelin'。〃
Jean gazed all around the grassy； cattle…dotted valley he was crossing
so swiftly； and toward the village； but he did not see any sign of the
dark group of riders。 They had gone on to Greaves's store； there； no
doubt； to drink and to add more enemies of the Isbels to their gang。
Suddenly across Jean's mind flashed a thought of Ellen Jorth。 〃What
'll become of her？ 。 。 。 What 'll become of all the women？ My sister？
。 。 。 The little ones？〃
No one was in sight around the ranch。 Never had it appeared more
peaceful and pastoral to Jean。 The grazing cattle and horses in the
foreground； the haystack half eaten away； the cows in the fenced
pasture； the column of blue smoke lazily ascending； the cackle of
hens； the solid； well…built cabinsall these seemed to repudiate
Jean's haste and his darkness of mind。 This place was； his father's
farm。 There was not a cloud in the blue； summer sky。
As Jean galloped up the lane some one saw him from the door； and
then Bill and Guy and their gray…headed father came out upon the porch。
Jean saw how he' waved the womenfolk back； and then strode out into
the lane。 Bill and Guy reached his side as Jean pulled his heaving
horse to a halt。 They all looked at Jean； swiftly and intently； with
a little； hard； fiery gleam strangely identical in the eyes of each。
Probably before a word was spoken they knew what to expect。
〃Wal； you shore was in a hurry；〃 remarked the father。
〃What the hell's up？〃 queried Bill； grimly。
Guy Isbel remained silent and it was he who turned slightly pale。
Jean leaped off his horse。
〃Bernardino has just been killedmurdered with his own gun。
Gaston Isbel seemed to exhale a long…dammed； bursting breath that
let his chest sag。 A terrible deadly glint； pale and cold as
sunlight on ice； grew slowly to dominate his clear eyes。
〃A…huh！〃 ejaculated Bill Isbel； hoarsely。
Not one of the three men asked who had done the killing。 They were
silent a moment； motionless； locked in the secret seclusion of their
own minds。 Then they listened with absorption to Jean's brief story。
〃Wal； that lets us in；〃 said his father。 〃I wish we had more time。
Reckon I'd done better to listen to you boys an' have my men close
at hand。 Jacobs happened to ride over。 That makes five of us besides
the women。〃
〃Aw； dad； you don't reckon they'll round us up heah？〃 asked Guy Isbel。
〃Boys； I always feared they might；〃 replied the old man。 〃But I never
really believed they'd have the nerve。 Shore I ought to have figgered
Daggs better。 This heah secret bizness an' shootin' at us from ambush
looked aboot Jorth's size to me。 But I reckon now we'll have to fight
without our friends。〃
〃Let them come；〃 said Jean。 〃I sent for Blaisdell； Blue； Gordon； and
Fredericks。 Maybe they'll get here in time。 But if they don't it
needn't worry us much。 We can hold out here longer than Jorth's gang
can hang around。 We'll want plenty of water； wood； and meat in the house。〃
〃Wal； I'll see to that；〃 rejoined his father。 〃Jean； you go out close
by； where you can see all around； an' keep watch。〃
〃Who's goin' to tell the women？〃 asked Guy Isbel。
The silence that momentarily ensued was an eloquent testimony to the
hardest and saddest aspect of this strife between men。 The
inevitableness of it in no wise detracted from its sheer uselessness。
Men from time immemorial had hated； and killed one another； always to
the misery and degradation of their women。 Old Gaston Isbel showed
this tragic realization in his lined face。
〃Wal； boys； I'll tell the women；〃 he said。 〃Sho
