to the last man-第36章
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with suspense； during which Jean watched the rustlers regale themselves。
The day was hot and still。 And the unnatural silence of the cabin was
broken now and then by the gay laughter of the children。 The sound
shocked and haunted Jean。 Playing children！ Then another sound； so
faint he had to strain to hear it； disturbed and saddened himhis
father's slow tread up and down the cabin floor； to and fro； to and fro。
What must be in his father's heart this day！
At length the rustlers rose and； with rifles in hand； they moved as
one man down the slope。 They came several hundred yards closer； until
Jean； grimly cocking his rifle； muttered to himself that a few more rods
closer would mean the end of several of that gang。 They knew the range
of a rifle well enough； and once more sheered off at right angles with
the cabin。 When they got even with the line of corrals they stooped
down and were lost to Jean's sight。 This fact caused him alarm。
They were； of course； crawling up on the cabins。 At the end of that
line of corrals ran a ditch； the bank of which was high enough to
afford cover。 Moreover； it ran along in front of the cabins； scarcely
a hundred yards； and it was covered with grass and little clumps of
brush； from behind which the rustlers could fire into the windows and
through the clay chinks without any considerable risk to themselves。
As they did not come into sight again； Jean concluded he had discovered
their plan。 Still； he waited awhile longer； until he saw faint； little
clouds of dust rising from behind the far end of the embankment。 That
discovery made him rush out； and through the kitchen to the large cabin；
where his sudden appearance startled the men。
〃Get back out of sight！〃 he ordered； sharply； and with swift steps he
reached the door and closed it。 〃They're behind the bank out there by
the corrals。 An' they're goin' to crawl down the ditch closer to us。
。 。 。 It looks bad。 They'll have grass an' brush to shoot from。
We've got to be mighty careful how we peep out。〃
〃Ahuh！ All right；〃 replied his father。 〃You women keep the kids with
you in that corner。 An' you all better lay down flat。〃
Blaisdell； Bill Isbel； and the old man crouched at the large window；
peeping through cracks in the rough edges of the logs。 Jean took his
post beside the small window； with his keen eyes vibrating like a
compass needle。 The movement of a blade of grass； the flight of a
grasshopper could not escape his trained sight。
〃Look sharp now！〃 he called to the other men。 〃I see dust。 。 。 。
They're workin' along almost to that bare spot on the bank。 。 。 。
I saw the tip of a rifle 。 。 。 a black hat 。 。 。 more dust。 They're
spreadin' along behind the bank。〃
Loud voices； and then thick clouds of yellow dust； coming from behind
the highest and brushiest line of the embankment； attested to the truth
of Jean's observation； and also to a reckless disregard of danger。
Suddenly Jean caught a glint of moving color through the fringe of
brush。 Instantly he was strung like a whipcord。
Then a tall； hatless and coatless man stepped up in plain sight。
The sun shone on his fair； ruffled hair。 Daggs！
Hey； you Isbels！〃 he bawled； in magnificent derisive boldness。
〃Come out an' fight！〃
Quick as lightning Jean threw up his rifle and fired。 He saw tufts
of fair hair fly from Daggs's head。 He saw the squirt of red blood。
Then quick shots from his； comrades rang out。 They all hit the swaying
body of the rustler。 But Jean knew with a terrible thrill that his
bullet had killed Daggs before the other three struck。 Daggs fell
forward； his arms and half his body resting over； the embankment。
Then the rustlers dragged him back out of sight。 Hoarse shouts rose。
A cloud of yellow dust drifted away from the spot。
〃Daggs！〃 burst out Gaston Isbel。 〃Jean； you knocked off the top of
his haid。 I seen that when I was pullin' trigger。 Shore we over
heah wasted our shots。〃
〃God！ he must have been crazy or drunkto pop up therean' brace us
that way；〃 said Blaisdell； breathing hard。
〃Arizona is bad for Texans；〃 replied Isbel； sardonically。 〃Shore it's
been too peaceful heah。 Rustlers have no practice at fightin'。 An' I
reckon Daggs forgot。〃
〃Daggs made as crazy a move as that of Guy an' Jacobs；〃 spoke up Jean。
〃They were overbold； an' he was drunk。 Let them be a lesson to us。〃
Jean had smelled whisky upon his entrance to this cabin。 Bill was a
hard drinker； and his father was not immune。 Blaisdell； too； drank
heavily upon occasions。 Jean made a mental note that he would not
permit their chances to become impaired by liquor。
Rifles began to crack； and puffs of smoke rose all along the embankment
for the space of a hundred feet。 Bullets whistled through the rude
window casing and spattered on the heavy door； and one split the clay
between the logs before Jean； narrowly missing him。 Another volley
followed； then another。 The rustlers had repeating rifles and they
were emptying their magazines。 Jean changed his position。 The other
men profited by his wise move。 The volleys had merged into one
continuous rattling roar of rifle shots。 Then came a sudden cessation
of reports； with silence of relief。 The cabin was full of dust； mingled
with the smoke from the shots of Jean and his companions。 Jean heard
the stifled breaths of the children。 Evidently they were terror…stricken；
but they did not cry out。 The women uttered no sound。
A loud voice pealed from behind the embankment。
〃Come out an' fight！ Do you Isbels want to be killed like sheep？〃
This sally gained no reply。 Jean returned to his post by the window
and his comrades followed his example。 And they exercised
extreme caution when they peeped out。
〃Boys； don't shoot till you see one；〃 said Gaston Isbel。 〃Maybe after
a while they'll get careless。 But Jorth will never show himself。〃
The rustlers did not again resort to volleys。 One by one； from
different angles； they began to shoot； and they were not firing at
random。 A few bullets came straight in at the windows to pat into
the walls； a few others ticked and splintered the edges of the windows；
and most of them broke through the clay chinks between the logs。 It
dawned upon Jean that these dangerous shots were not accident。 They
were well aimed； and most of them hit low down。 The cunning rustlers
had some unerring riflemen and they were picking out the vulnerable
places all along the front of the cabin。 If Jean had not been lying
flat he would have been hit twice。 Presently he conceived the idea
of driving pegs between the logs； high up； and； kneeling on these； he
managed to peep out from the upper edge of the window。 But this
position was awkward and difficult to hold for long。
He heard a bullet hit one of his comrades。 Whoever had been struck
never uttered a sound。 Jean turned to look。 Bill Isbel was holding
his shoulder； where red splotches appeared on his shirt。 He shook his
head at Jean； evidently to make light of the wound。 The women and
children were lying face down and could not see what was happening。
Plain is was that Bill did not want them to know。 Blaisdell bound
up the bloody shoulder with a scarf。
Steady firing from the rustlers went on； at the rate of one shot every
few minutes。 The Isbels did not return these。 Jean did not fire again
that afternoon。 Toward sunset； when the besiegers appeared to grow
restless or careless； Blaisdell fired at something moving behind the
brush； and Gaston Isbel's huge buffalo gun boomed out。
〃Wal； what 're they goin' to do after dark； an' what 're WE goin'
to do？〃 grumbled Blaisdell。
〃Reckon they'll never charge us；〃 said Gaston。
〃They might set fire to the cabins；〃 added Bill Isbel。 He appeared
to be the gloomiest of the Isbel faction。 There was something on
his mind。
〃Wal； the Jorths are bad； but I reckon they'd not burn us alive；〃
replied Blaisdell。
〃Hah！〃 ejaculated Gaston Isbel。 〃Much you know aboot Lee Jorth。
He would skin me alive an' throw red…hot coals on my raw flesh。〃
So they talked during the hour from sunset to dark。 Jean Isbel had
little to say。 He was revolving possibilities in
