to the last man-第49章
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neck。 That name locked her thought。
〃Ellen； it's a mighty queer storytoo queer to be a lie；〃 went on
Sprague。 〃Now you listen！ Evarts got this from Ted Meeker。 An' Ted
Meeker heerd it from Greaves； who didn't die till the next day after
Jean Isbel knifed him。 An' your dad shot Ted fer tellin' what he heerd。
。 。 。 No； Greaves wasn't killed outright。 He was cut somethin' turrible
in two places。 They wrapped him all up an' next day packed him in a
wagon back to Grass Valley。 Evarts says Ted Meeker was friendly with
Greaves an' went to see him as he was layin' in his room next to the
store。 Wal； accordin' to Meeker's story； Greaves came to an' talked。
He said he was sittin' there in the dark； shootin' occasionally at
Isbel's cabin； when he heerd a rustle behind him in the grass。 He
knowed some one was crawlin' on him。 But before he could get his gun
around he was jumped by what he thought was a grizzly bear。 But it was
a man。 He shut off Greaves's wind an' dragged him back in the ditch。
An' he said： 'Greaves； it's the half…breed。 An' he's goin' to cut you
FIRST FOR ELLEN JORTH！ an' then for Gaston Isbel！' 。 。 。 Greaves said
Jean ripped him with a bowie knife。 。 。 。 An' thet was all Greaves
remembered。 He died soon after tellin' this story。 He must hev fought
awful hard。 Thet second cut Isbel gave him went clear through him。 。 。 。
Some of the gang was thar when Greaves talked； an' naturally they
wondered why Jean Isbel had said 'first for Ellen Jorth。' 。 。 。 Somebody
remembered thet Greaves had cast a slur on your good name； Ellen。 An'
then they had Jean Isbel's reason fer sayin' thet to Greaves。 It caused
a lot of talk。 An' when Simm Bruce busted in some of the gang haw…hawed
him an' said as how he'd get the third cut from Jean Isbel's bowie。
Bruce was half drunk an' he began to cuss an' rave about Jean Isbel
bein' in love with his girl。 。 。 。 As bad luck would have it； a couple
of more fellars come in an' asked Meeker questions。 He jest got to
thet part； 'Greaves； it's the half…breed； an' he's goin' to cut you
FIRST FOR ELLEN JORTH；' when in walked your father！ 。 。 。 Then it all
had to come outwhat Jean Isbel had said an' donean' why。
How Greaves had backed Simm Bruce in slurrin' you！〃
Sprague paused to look hard at Ellen。
〃Oh！ Thenwhat did dad do？〃 whispered Ellen。
〃He said； 'By God！ half…breed or not； there's one Isbel who's a man！'
An' he killed Bruce on the spot an' gave Meeker a nasty wound。
Somebody grabbed him before he could shoot Meeker again。 They threw
Meeker out an' he crawled to a neighbor's house； where he was when
Evarts seen him。〃
Ellen felt Sprague's rough but kindly hand shaking her。 〃An' now what
do you think of Jean Isbel？〃 he queried。
A great； unsurmountable wall seemed to obstruct Ellen's thought。
It seemed gray in color。 It moved toward her。 It was inside her brain。
〃I tell you； Ellen Jorth；〃 declared the old man； 〃thet Jean Isbel loves
you…loves you turriblyan' he believes you're good。〃
〃Oh nohe doesn't！〃 faltered Ellen。
〃Wal； he jest does。〃
〃Oh； Uncle John； he cain't believe that！〃 she cried。
〃Of course he can。 He does。 You are goodgood as gold； Ellen； an'
he knows it。 。 。 。 What a queer deal it all is！ Poor devil！ To love
you thet turribly an' hev to fight your people！ Ellen； your dad had
it correct。 Isbel or not； he's a man。 。 。 。 An' I say what a shame
you two are divided by hate。 Hate thet you hed nothin' to do with。〃
Sprague patted her head and rose to go。 〃Mebbe thet fight will end
the trouble。 I reckon it will。 Don't cross bridges till you come to
them； Ellen。 ； 。 。 I must hurry back now。 I didn't take time to unpack
my burros。 Come up soon。 。 。 。 An'； say； Ellen； don't think hard any
more of thet Jean Isbel。〃
Sprague strode away； and Ellen neither heard nor saw him go。 She sat
perfectly motionless； yet had a strange sensation of being lifted by
invisible and mighty power。 It was like movement felt in a dream。
She was being impelled upward when her body seemed immovable as stone。
When her blood beat down this deadlock of an her physical being and
rushed on and on through her veins it gave her an irresistible impulse
to fly； to sail through space； to ran and run and ran。
And on the moment the black horse； Spades； coming from the meadow；
whinnied at sight of her。 Ellen leaped up and ran swiftly； but her
feet seemed to be stumbling。 She hugged the horse and buried her hot
face in his mane and clung to him。 Then just as violently she rushed
for her saddle and bridle and carried the heavy weight as easily as if
it had been an empty sack。 Throwing them upon him； she buckled and
strapped with strong； eager hands。 It never occurred to her that she
was not dressed to ride。 Up she flung herself。 And the horse； sensing
her spirit； plunged into strong； free gait down the canyon trail。
The ride； the action； the thrill； the sensations of violence were not
all she needed。 Solitude； the empty aisles of the forest； the far miles
of lonely wildernesswere these the added all？ Spades took a swinging；
rhythmic lope up the winding trail。 The wind fanned her hot face。 The
sting of whipping aspen branches was pleasant。 A deep rumble of thunder
shook the sultry air。 Up beyond the green slope of the canyon massed
the creamy clouds； shading darker and darker。 Spades loped on the
levels； leaped the washes； trotted over the rocky ground； and took to
a walk up the long slope。 Ellen dropped the reins over the pommel。
Her hands could not stay set on anything。 They pressed her breast
and flew out to caress the white aspens and to tear at the maple leaves；
and gather the lavender juniper berries； and came back again to her heart。
Her heart that was going to burst or break！ As it had swelled； so now
it labored。 It could not keep pace with her needs。 All that was physical；
all that was living in her had to be unleashed。
Spades gained the level forest。 How the great； brown…green pines seemed
to bend their lofty branches over her； protectively； understandingly。
Patches of azure…blue sky flashed between the trees。 The great white
clouds sailed along with her； and shafts of golden sunlight； flecked
with gleams of falling pine needles； shone down through the canopy
overhead。 Away in front of her； up the slow heave of forest land；
boomed the heavy thunderbolts along the battlements of the Rim。
Was she riding to escape from herself？ For no gait suited her until
Spades was running hard and fast through the glades。 Then the pressure
of dry wind； the thick odor of pine； the flashes of brown and green and
gold and blue； the soft； rhythmic thuds of hoofs； the feel of the powerful
horse under her； the whip of spruce branches on her muscles contracting
and expanding in hard actionall these sensations seemed to quell for
the time the mounting cataclysm in her heart。
The oak swales； the maple thickets； the aspen groves； the pine…shaded
aisles； and the miles of silver spruce all sped by her； as if she had
ridden the wind； and through the forest ahead shone the vast open of
the Basin； gloomed by purple and silver cloud； shadowed by gray storm；
and in the west brightened by golden sky。
Straight to the Rim she had ridden； and to the point where she had
watched Jean Isbel that unforgetable day。 She rode to the promontory
behind the pine thicket and beheld a scene which stayed her restless
hands upon her heaving breast。
The world of sky and cloud and earthly abyss seemed one of storm…sundered
grandeur。 The air was sultry and still； and smelled of the peculiar
burnt…wood odor caused by lightning striking trees。 A few heavy drops
of rain were pattering down from the thin； gray edge of clouds overhead。
To the east hung the storma black cloud lodged against the Rim； from
which long； misty veils of rain streamed down into the gulf。 The roar
of rain sounded like the steady roar of the rapids of a river。 Then a
blue…white； piercingly bright； ragged streak of lightning shot down out
of the black cloud。 It struck with a splitting report that shocked the
very wall of rock under Ellen。 Then the heavens seemed to burst open
with thundering crash
