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Updated: May 17, 2025
So while Nas Ta Bega attended to the mustangs Shefford set about such preparations for camp and supper as their light pack afforded. The question of beds was easily answered, for the mats of soft needles under pinyon and cedar would be comfortable places to sleep. When Shefford felt free again the sun was setting. Lassiter and Jane were walking under the trees. The Indian had returned to camp.
Wild, rugged, unshorn yet how splendid! He had gone away a boy he had returned a man. He appeared taller, wider of shoulder, deeper-chested, more powerfully built. But was that only her fancy he had always been a young giant was the change one of spirit? He might have been absent for years, proven by fire and steel, grown like Lassiter, strong and cool and sure.
Now jest lay still a little. You're all right; everythin's all right." "Where is he?" "Who?" "Lassiter!" "You needn't worry none about him." "Where is he? Tell me instantly." "Wal, he's in the other room patchin' up a few triflin' bullet holes." "Ah!... Bishop' Dyer?" "When I seen him last a matter of half an hour ago, he was on his knees. He was some busy, but he wasn't prayin'!"
Then Lassiter, carrying the field-glasses began to lead the way up the slow rise of ground. Upon nearing the summit he halted her with a gesture. "I reckon we'd see more if we didn't show ourselves against the sky," he said. "I was here less than an hour ago. Then the herd was seven or eight miles south, an' if they ain't bolted yet " "Lassiter!... Bolted?" "That's what I said. Now let's see."
This will be the ride of your lives," added Jane, in that same soft undertone, almost as if she were musing to herself. "Jane!" he cried. "I give you Black Star and Night!" "Black Star and Night!" he echoed. "It's done. Lassiter, put our saddle-bags on the burros." Only when Lassiter moved swiftly to execute her bidding did Venters's clogged brain grasp at literal meanings.
"Speak names!" thundered Lassiter. "To Bishop Dyer to Tull," went on Jane, shocked into obedience. "Well what for?" "I want little Fay. I can't live without her. They've stolen her as they stole Milly Erne's child. I must have little Fay. I want only her. I give up. I'll go and tell Bishop Dyer I'm broken. I'll tell him I'm ready for the yoke only give me back Fay and and I'll marry Tull!"
"That's good. Well, well! I'm completely dumfounded. It was my idea that no man could track me in here." "I reckon. But if there's a tracker in these uplands as good as me he can find you." "That's bad. That'll worry me. But, Lassiter, now you're here I'm glad to see you. And and my companion here is not a young fellow!... Bess, this is a friend of mine. He saved my life once."
When Shefford had scooped out all the water he went forward to see how Fay and Jane and Lassiter had fared. The women were pale, but composed. They had covered their heads. "But the dreadful roar!" exclaimed Fay. Lassiter looked shaken for once. "Shore I'd rather taken a chance meetin' them Mormons on the way out," he said.
Then go to work for me. And if aught happens to you there I'll give you money gold enough to leave Utah!" The man choked and stammered, and then, as tears welled into his eyes, he found the use of his tongue and cursed. No gentle speech could ever have equaled that curse in eloquent expression of what he felt for Jane Withersteen. How strangely his look and tone reminded her of Lassiter!
I've come to see an' feel differently. I can't help poor Milly. An' I've outgrowed revenge. I've come to see I can be no judge for men. I can't kill a man jest for hate. Hate ain't the same with me since I loved you and little Fay." "Lassiter! You mean you won't kill him?" Jane whispered. "No." "For my sake?" "I reckon. I can't understand, but I'll respect your feelin's."
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