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Updated: May 31, 2025
Her face was motionless; her eyes fixed dreamily upon the brown prairies that swept up the flanks of the foothills to the south. Far and away on their curving crests the dark snake-line of Transley's outfit could be seen apparently motionless on the rim of the horizon. Drazk changed his foot on the rail and the motion brought him six inches nearer her.
Mostly she was able to think of other matters. Her father brought it up in a startling way at breakfast. Absolutely out of a blue sky he said, "Did you know, Zen, that Drazk has disappeared? Transley tells me you were int'rested a bit in him, or perhaps I should say he was int'rested in you." Zen was so overcome by this startling change in the conversation that she was unable to answer.
Transley seen it he says, 'Drazk, take the day off an' go back for your blanket, he says. 'There's no hurry, he says. 'Linder an' me'll manage, he says." "Oh!" "So here I am." He glanced at her again. She was showing no disposition to run away. She was about two yards from him, along the fence. Drazk wondered how long it would take him to bridge that distance.
It was no larger than a whiplash; apparently it was a spare lace which Drazk carried, and which had worked loose in the struggle. It was floating close to Drazk. "Don't let me sink, George!" she cried frantically, in sudden fright. "Save me! I won't fight any more." "That's better," he said, drawing her up to him. "I knew you'd come to your senses." Her hand reached the lash.
Drazk knew nothing about the theory of the thing; all that concerned him was the fact that by mid-afternoon the wind would probably change to the west. Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the water's edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There were cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed them, but he feared the telltale shoe-prints.
"Of course it's nonsense, but Drazk doesn't see it that way." "I'd string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he " "Now don't do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn't realize that he is no mate for Zen. He doesn't know of any reason why Zen shouldn't look on him with favor; indeed, with pride. It's ridiculous, I know, but Drazk is built that way."
I'm afraid Drazk is as irresponsible as ever, provided he hasn't passed out, which is more than likely." Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs and Mrs. Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination he may have felt to linger over Zen's hand was checked by her quick withdrawal of it, and there was something in her manner quite beyond his understanding.
"Gad, but you're a stunner!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad we met here." She brought her whip with a biting cut around the wrist that held her bridle. Drazk winced, but did not let go. "Jus' for that, young Y.D.," he hissed, "jus' for that we drop all formalities, so to speak." With a dexterous spurring he brought his horse alongside and threw an arm about Zen before she could beat him off.
She was at home in discussions of herds or horses; she was at home with the duties of kitchen or reception-room; she was at home with her father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or Tompkins the cook, but Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a far country, where she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance.... Yet it seemed a good and interesting country.
Drazk followed the gully up into the hills, letting his horse drop back to a walk in the hard going along the dry bed of a stream which flowed only in the spring freshets. Pete had to pick his way over boulders and across stretches of sand and boggy patches of black mud formed by little springs leaking out under clumps of willows.
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