United States or Brunei ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Mescal sorrowed, and Wolf mourned in sympathy with her, for their occupation was gone, but both brightened when August made known his intention to cross the river to the Navajo range, to trade with the Indians for another flock. He began his preparations immediately. The snow-freshets had long run out of the river, the water was low, and he wanted to fetch the sheep down before the summer rains.
I didn't see his face; I can't remember his voice." "Think! Think! He'll be hanged if you don't recall something to identify him. He deserves a chance. Holderness's crowd are thieves, murderers. But two were not all bad. That showed the night you were at Silver Cup. I saved Nebraska " "Were you at Silver Cup? Jack!" "Hush! don't interrupt me. We must save this man who saved you. Think! Mescal!
He looked up at her, at the black sweep of her hair under the white band, at her eyes, like jet; and suddenly realized, with a gladness new and strange to him, that he liked to look at her, that she was beautiful. AUGUST NAAB appeared on the path leading from his fields. "Mescal, here you are," he greeted. "How about the sheep?" "Piute's driving them down to the lower range.
"Jack is it really you?" she asked. He answered with a kiss. She slipped out of his arms breathless and scarlet. "Tell me all " "There's much to tell, but not before you kiss me. It has been more than a year." "Only a year! Have I been gone only a year?" "Yes, a year. But it's past now. Kiss me, Mescal. One kiss will pay for that long year, though it broke my heart."
That painted wonderland had sheltered Mescal for a year. He had loved it for its color, its change, its secrecy; he loved it now because it had not been a grave for Mescal, but a home. Therefore he laughed at the deceiving yellow distances in the foreground of glistening mesas, at the deceiving purple distances of the far-off horizon.
"Heap damn lie!" he exclaimed with a growl, and stalked off into the gloom. Piute's expressive doubt discomfited Hare, but only momentarily, for Mescal's silvery peal of laughter told him that the incident had brought them closer together. He laughed with her and discovered a well of joyousness behind her reserve. Thereafter he talked directly to Mescal.
But they found no sign of Mescal. After long hours the excitement subsided and all sought their beds. Morning disclosed the facts of Mescal's flight.
"Is that the Colorado I hear?" asked Hare. "No, that's Thunder River. The Colorado is farther down in the Grand Canyon." "Farther down! Mescal, I must have come a mile from the rim. Where are we?" "We are almost at the Colorado, and directly under the head of Coconina. We can see the mountain from the break in the valley below." "Come sit by me here under this tree.
Jack, I see happiness and prosperity for you. Do you remember that night on the White Sage trail? Ah! Well, the worst is over. We can look forward to better times. It's not likely the rustlers will ride into Utah again. But this desert will never be free from strife." "Tell me of Mescal," said Hare. "Ah! Yes, I'm coming to that."
"Then listen. I'll get you out of this canyon and take you home. You are mine and I'll keep you." He held her tightly with strong arms; his face paled, his eyes darkened. "I don't want to meet Snap Naab. I shall try to keep out of his way. I hope I can. But Mescal, I'm yours now. Your happiness perhaps your life depends on me. That makes a difference. Understand!"
Word Of The Day