to the last man-第48章
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sunny； sweet and fragrant and colorful； and her mood was pensive； wistful；
dreamy。 And always； just as surely as the hours passed； thought intruded
upon her happiness； and thought brought memory； and memory brought shame；
and shame brought fight。 Sunset after sunset she had dragged herself
back to the ranch； sullen and sick and beaten。 Yet she never ceased
to struggle。
The July storms came； and the forest floor that had been so sear and
brown and dry and dusty changed as if by magic。 The green grass shot
up； the flowers bloomed； and along the canyon beds of lacy ferns swayed
in the wind and bent their graceful tips over the amber…colored water。
Ellen haunted these cool dells； these pine…shaded； mossy…rocked ravines
where the brooks tinkled and the deer came down to drink。 She wandered
alone。 But there grew to be company in the aspens and the music of the
little waterfalls。 If she could have lived in that solitude always；
never returning to the ranch home that reminded her of her name； she
could have forgotten and have been happy。
She loved the storms。 It was a dry country and she had learned through
years to welcome the creamy clouds that rolled from the southwest。 They
came sailing and clustering and darkening at last to form a great； purple；
angry mass that appeared to lodge against the mountain rim and burst into
dazzling streaks of lightning and gray palls of rain。 Lightning seldom
struck near the ranch； but up on the Rim there was never a storm that
did not splinter and crash some of the noble pines。 During the storm
season sheep herders and woodsmen generally did not camp under the pines。
Fear of lightning was inborn in the natives； but for Ellen the dazzling
white streaks or the tremendous splitting； crackling shock； or the
thunderous boom and rumble along the battlements of the Rim had no
terrors。 A storm eased her breast。 Deep in her heart was a hidden
gathering storm。 And somehow； to be out when the elements were warring；
when the earth trembled and the heavens seemed to burst asunder；
afforded her strange relief。
The summer days became weeks； and farther and farther they carried Ellen
on the wings of solitude and loneliness until she seemed to look back
years at the self she had hated。 And always； when the dark memory
impinged upon peace； she fought and fought until she seemed to be
fighting hatred itself。 Scorn of scorn and hate of hate！ Yet even
her battles grew to be dreams。 For when the inevitable retrospect
brought back Jean Isbel and his love and her cowardly falsehood she
would shudder a little and put an unconscious hand to her breast and
utterly fail in her fight and drift off down to vague and wistful dreams。
The clean and healing forest； with its whispering wind and imperious
solitude； had come between Ellen and the meaning of the squalid sheep
ranch； with its travesty of home； its tragic owner。 And it was coming
between her two selves； the one that she had been forced to be and the
other that she did not knowthe thinker； the dreamer； the romancer；
the one who lived in fancy the life she loved。
The summer morning dawned that brought Ellen strange tidings。 They
must have been created in her sleep； and now were realized in the
glorious burst of golden sun； in the sweep of creamy clouds across
the blue； in the solemn music of the wind in the pines； in the wild
screech of the blue jays and the noble bugle of a stag。 These heralded
the day as no ordinary day。 Something was going to happen to her。
She divined it。 She felt it。 And she trembled。 Nothing beautiful；
hopeful； wonderful could ever happen to Ellen Jorth。 She had been born
to disaster； to suffer； to be forgotten； and die alone。 Yet all nature
about her seemed a magnificent rebuke to her morbidness。 The same spirit
that came out there with the thick； amber light was in her。 She lived；
and something in her was stronger than mind。
Ellen went to the door of her cabin； where she flung out her arms；
driven to embrace this nameless purport of the morning。 And a
well…known voice broke in upon her rapture。
〃Wal； lass； I like to see you happy an' I hate myself fer comin'。
Because I've been to Grass Valley fer two days an' I've got news。〃
Old John Sprague stood there； with a smile that did not hide a
troubled look。
〃Oh！ Uncle John！ You startled me；〃 exclaimed Ellen； shocked back
to reality。 And slowly she added： 〃Grass Valley！ News？〃
She put out an appealing hand； which Sprague quickly took in his own；
as if to reassure her。
〃Yes； an' not bad so far as you Jorths are concerned；〃 he replied。
〃The first Jorth…Isbel fight has come off。 。 。 。 Reckon you remember
makin' me promise to tell you if I heerd anythin'。 Wal； I didn't
wait fer you to come up。〃
〃So Ellen heard her voice calmly saying。 What was this lying calm
when there seemed to be a stone hammer at her heart？ The first fight
not so bad for the Jorths！ Then it had been bad for the Isbels。
A sudden； cold stillness fell upon her senses。
〃Let's sit downoutdoors；〃 Sprague was saying。 〃Nice an' sunny this
mornin'。 I declareI'm out of breath。 Not used to walkin'。 An'
besides； I left Grass Valley； in the nightan' I'm tired。 But excoose
me from hangin' round thet village last night！ There was shore〃
〃Whowho was killed？〃 interrupted Ellen； her voice breaking low and deep。
〃Guy Isbel an' Bill Jacobs on the Isbel side； an' Daggs； Craig； an'
Greaves on your father's side；〃 stated Sprague； with something of
awed haste。
〃Ah！〃 breathed Ellen； and she relaxed to sink back against the cabin wall。
Sprague seated himself on the log beside her； turning to face her；
and he seemed burdened with grave and important matters。
〃I heerd a good many conflictin' stories；〃 he said； earnestly。 〃The
village folks is all skeered an' there's no believin' their gossip。
But I got what happened straight from Jake Evarts。 The fight come
off day before yestiddy。 Your father's gang rode down to Isbel's ranch。
Daggs was seen to be wantin' some of the Isbel hosses； so Evarts says。
An' Guy Isbel an' Jacobs ran out in the pasture。 Daggs an' some others
shot them down
〃Killed themthat way？〃 put in Ellen； sharply。
〃So Evarts says。 He was on the ridge an' swears he seen it all。 They
killed Guy an' Jacobs in cold blood。 No chance fer their livesnot
even to fight！ 。 。 。 Wall； hen they surrounded the Isbel cabin。 The
fight last all thet day an' all night an' the next day。 Evarts says
Guy an' Jacobs laid out thar all this time。 An' a herd of hogs broke
in the pasture an' was eatin' the dead bodies 。 。 。〃
〃My God！〃 burst out Ellen。 〃Uncle John； y'u shore cain't mean my
father wouldn't stop fightin' long enough to drive the hogs off an'
bury those daid men？〃
〃Evarts says they stopped fightin'； all right； but it was to watch
the hogs；〃 declared Sprague。 〃An' then； what d' ye think？ The
wimminfolks come outthe red…headed one； Guy's wife； an' Jacobs's
wifethey drove the hogs away an' buried their husbands right there
in the pasture。 Evarts says he seen the graves。〃
〃It is the women who can teach these bloody Texans a lesson；〃
declared Ellen； forcibly。
〃Wal； Daggs was drunk； an' he got up from behind where the gang was
hidin'； an' dared the Isbels to come out。 They shot him to pieces。
An' thet night some one of the Isbels shot Craig； who was alone on guard。
。 。 。 An' lastthis here's what I come to tell youJean Isbel slipped
up in the dark on Greaves an' knifed him。〃
〃Why did y'u want to tell me that particularly？〃 asked Ellen； slowly。
〃Because I reckon the facts in the case are queeran' because； Ellen；
your name was mentioned；〃 announced Sprague； positively。
〃My namementioned？〃 echoed Ellen。 Her horror and disgust gave way to
a quickening process of thought； a mounting astonishment。 〃By whom？〃
〃Jean Isbel；〃 replied Sprague； as if the name and the fact were momentous。
Ellen sat still as a stone； her hands between her knees。 Slowly she
felt the blood recede from her face； prickling her kin down below her
neck。 That name locked her thought。
〃Ellen； it's a mighty queer storytoo queer to be a lie；〃 went on
Sprague。 〃Now you liste
