United States or Australia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Frost whitened the ground at dawn, and held half the day in the shade. Winter was close at the heels of the long autumn. As for Hare, true to August Naab's assertion, he had lost flesh and suffered, and though the process was heartbreaking in its severity, he hung on till he hardened into a leather lunged, wire-muscled man, capable of keeping pace with his companions.
From the zone of blackness surrounding the camp burst the short bark, the hungry whine, the long-drawn-out wail of desert wolves. "Supper, sons," called Naab, as he replenished the fire with an armful of grease-wood. Naab's sons had his stature, though not his bulk. They were wiry, rangy men, young, yet somehow old. The desert had multiplied their years.
"Mescal's pushing him hard to make the sand-strip," said George. "Piute three fires to-night Lookout Point!" This order meant the execution of August Naab's hurry-signal for the Navajos, and after he had given it, he waved the Indian toward the cliff, and lapsed into a silence which no one dared to break. Naab consigned the bodies of the rustlers to the famous cemetery under the red wall.
"Yep, jest a plain Nebraska rustler, cattle-thief, an' all round no-good customer, though I ain't taken to houndin' women yet." For answer Snap Naab's right hand slowly curved upward before him and stopped taut and inflexible, while his strange eyes seemed to shoot sparks. "See here, Naab, why do you want to throw a gun on me?" asked the rustler, coolly.
Even the Navajos shun it after dark. We'll be home soon. There's my sign. See? Night or day we call it the Blue Star." High in the black cliff a star-shaped, wind-worn hole let the blue sky through. There was cheer in Naab's "Getup," now, and the horses quickened with it. Their iron-shod hoofs struck fire from the rosy road. "Easy, easy soho!" cried Naab to his steeds.
Hare's fateful glance, impossible to elude, his strung form slightly crouched, his cold deliberate mention of Naab's trick, and more than all the poise of that quivering hand, filled the rustler with a terror that he could not hide. He had been bidden to draw and he could not summon the force. "Naab's trick!" repeated Hare, mockingly. Suddenly Holderness reached for his gun.
A new building had been added to the several stores. Mustangs stood, bridles down, before the doors; men lounged along the railings. As he dismounted he heard the loungers speak of his horse, and he saw their leisurely manner quicken. He stepped into the store to meet more men, among them August Naab's friend Abe.
Naab had not ceased speaking when Hare saw that the train of Indians trailing down the slope was enveloped in red clouds. Then the white wagons disappeared. Soon he was struck in the back by a gust which justified Naab's warning. It swept by; the air grew clear again; once more he could see. But presently a puff, taking him unawares, filled his eyes with dust difficult of removal.
"I gave him my promise because there was nothing else to do. I was pledged to to him in the church at White Sage. It can't be changed. I've got to marry Father Naab's eldest son." "Eldest son?" echoed Jack, suddenly mindful of the implication. "Why! that's Snap Naab. Ah! I begin to see light. That Mescal " "I hate him." "You hate him and you're pledged to marry him!... God!
The old Bishop came tottering over the grass, leaning on his cane, shading his eyes with his hand. "August. See, the Bishop's coming. Paul's father! Do you hear?" Hare's appeal pierced Naab's frenzied brain. The Mormon Elder saw his old Bishop pause and stare at the dark shapes suspended from the cottonwoods and hold up his hands in horror. Naab loosed his hold.
Word Of The Day