The shadow of Walt Wilder is again projected over the Staked Plain, as before, to a gigantic length. But this time westwardly1, from a sun that is rising instead of setting.
It is the morning after he parted with his disabled companion; and he is now making back towards the spot where he had left the latter, the sun’s disc just appearing above the horizon, and shining straight upon his back. Its rays illumine an object not seen before, which lends to Walt’s shadow a shape weird4 and fantastic. It is that of a giant, with something sticking out on each side of his head that resembles a pair of horns, or as if his neck was embraced by an ox-yoke, the tines tending diagonally outwards5.
On looking at Walt himself the singularity is at once understood. The carcase of a deer lies transversely across his back, the legs of the animal being fastened together so as to form a sling6, through which he has thrust his head, leaving the long slender shanks, like the ends of the letter X, projecting at each side and high above his shoulders.
Despite the load thus borne by him, the step of the ex-Ranger7 is no longer that of a man either despairing or fatigued8. On the contrary, it is light and elastic9; while his countenance10 shows bright and joyous11 as the beams of the ascending12 sun. His very shadow seems to flit over the frosted foliage13 of the artemisias as lightly as the figure of a gossamer-robed belle14 gliding15 across the waxed floor of a ball-room.
Walt Wilder no longer hungers or thirsts. Though the carcase on his back is still unskinned, a huge collop cut out of one of its hind-quarters tells how he has satisfied the first craving16; while the gurgle of water, heard inside the canteen slung17 under his arm, proclaims that the second has also been appeased18.
He is now hastening on to the relief of his comrade, happy in the thought of being able soon to relieve him also from his sufferings.
Striding lightly among the sage-bushes, and looking ahead for the landmark19 that should guide him, he at length catches sight of it. The palmilla, standing20 like a huge porcupine21 upon the plain, cannot be mistaken; and he descries22 it at more than a mile’s distance, the shadow of his own head already flickering23 among its bayonet-like blades.
Just then something else comes under his eyes, which at once changes the expression upon his countenance. From gay it grows grave, serious, apprehensive24. A flock of buzzards, seemingly scared by his shadow, have suddenly flapped up from among the sage-plants, and are now soaring around, close to the spikes25 of the palmilla. They have evidently been down upon the earth. And what have they been doing there?
It is this question, mentally put by Walt Wilder, that has caused the quick change in his countenance—the result of a painful conjecture27.
“Marciful heavens!” he exclaims, suddenly making halt, the gun almost dropping from his grasp. “Kin3 it be possyble? Frank Hamersley gone under! Them buzzards! They’ve been upon the groun’ to a sartinty. Darnashin! what ked they a been doin’ down thar? Right by the bunch o’ palmetto, jest whar I left him. An’ no sign o’ himself to be seen? Marciful heavens! kin it be possyble they’ve been—?”
Interrupting himself, he remains28 motionless, apparently29 paralysed by apprehension30, mechanically scanning the palmilla, as though from it he expected an answer to his interrogatory.
“It air possyble,” he continues after a time, “too possyble—too likesome. He war well-nigh done up, poor young fellur; an’ no wonder. Whar is he now? He must be down by the side o’ the bush—down an’ dead. Ef he war alive, he’d be lookin’ out for me. He’s gone under; an’ this deer-meat, this water, purcured to no purpiss. I mout as well fling both away; they’ll reach him too late.”
Once more resuming his forward stride, he advanced towards the dark mass above which the vultures are soaring. His shadow, still by a long distance preceding him, has frightened the birds higher up into the air, but they show no signs of going altogether away. On the contrary, they keep circling around, as if they had already commenced a repast, and, driven off, intend returning to it.
On what have they been banqueting? On the body of his comrade? What else can be there?
Thus questioning himself, the ex-Ranger advances, his heart still aching with apprehension. Suddenly his eye alights on the piece of paper impaled31 upon the topmost spike26 of the palmilla. The sight gives him relief, but only for an instant; his conjectures32 again leading him astray.
“Poor young fellur!” is his half-spoken reflection; “he’s wrote somethin’ to tell how he died—mayhap somethin’ for me to carry back to the dear ’uns he’s left behind in ole Kaintuck. Wall, that thing shall sartinly be done ef ever this chile gets to the States agin. Darnashin! only to think how near I war to savin’ him; a whole doe deer, an’ water enough to a drownded him! It’ll be useless venison now, I shan’t care no more to put tooth into it myself. Frank Hamersley gone dead—the man o’ all others I’d ’a died to keep alive. I’d jest as soon lie down an’ stop breathin’ by the side o’ him.”
While speaking he moves on towards the palmilla. A few strides bring him so near the tree that he can see the ground surface about its base. There is something black among the stems of the sage-bushes. It is not the dead body of a man, but a buzzard, which he knows to be that he had shot before starting off. The sight of it causes him again to make stop. It looks draggled and torn, as if partially33 dismembered.
“Kin he hev been eatin’ it? Or war it themselves, the cussed kannybals? Poor Frank, I reck’n I’ll find him on t’other side, his body mangled34 in the same way. Darn it, ’t air kewrous, too. ’Twar on this side he laid down to git shade from the sun. I seed him squat35 whiles I war walkin’ away. The sun ain’t hot enuf yit to a druv him to westward2 o’ the bush, though thar for sartin he must be. What’s the use o’ my stannin’ shilly-shally hyar? I may as well face the sight at oncest, ugly as I know it’ll prove. Hyar goes.”
Steeling himself for the terrible spectacle, which he believes to be certainly awaiting him, he once more advances towards the tree.
A dozen strides bring him up, and less than half a dozen more carry him around it.
No body, living or dead—no remains of man, mutilated or otherwise!
For some time Wilder stands in speechless surprise, his glances going all around. But no human figure is seen, either by the palmilla or among the sage-bushes beside it. Can the wounded man have crawled away? But no; why should he? Still, to make sure, the ex-Ranger shouts out, calling Hamersley by name.
He gets no response. Alone he hears the echo of his own voice, mingling36 with the hoarse37 croaking38 of the vultures, scared by his shouts.
His hunter habits now counsel him to a different course of action. His comrade cannot be dead, else the corpse39 would be there. The vultures could not have eaten up both body and bones. There is no skeleton, no remains. His fellow fugitive40 has gone off or been taken. Whither? While asking the question Wilder sets about the right way to answer it. As a skilled tracker he begins by examining the signs that should put him on the trace of his missing companion. At a glance he perceives the prints of a horse’s hoof41, and sees they are those of one unshod. This bodes42 ill, for the naked-hoofed horse betokens43 a savage44 rider—an Indian. Still, it may not be; and he proceeds to a more careful scrutiny45 of the tracks. In a short time he is able to tell that but one horse has been there, and presumably but one rider, which promises better. And while shaping conjectures as to who it could have been his eye ascends46 to the piece of paper impaled upon the spike, which he has for a time forgotten. This promises still better. It may clear up everything.
Hoping it will, he strides towards and takes hold of it. Lifting it carefully from the leaf, he spreads it out. He sees some writing in pencil, which he prepares to read.
At first sight he supposed it might be a dying record. Now he believes it may be something else.
His hands tremble, and his huge frame is convulsed as he holds the paper to his eyes.
With a thrill of joy he recognises the handwriting of Hamersley, which he knows. He is not much of a scholar; still, he can read, and at a glance makes out the first four words, full of pleasant meaning:
“Saved by an Angel!”
He reads no farther, till after giving utterance47 to a “hurrah!” that might have been heard many miles over the Staked Plain. Then, more tranquillised, he continues deciphering the chirography of his companion to the end; when a second shout terminates the effort.
“Saved by a angel!” he says, muttering to himself. “A angel on the Staked Plain! Whar can the critter hev come from? No matter whar. Thar’s been one hyar, for sartin. Darn me ef I don’t smell the sweet o’ her pettikotes now! This piece o’ paper—’t ain’t Frank’s. I knows he hedn’t a scrap48 about him. No. Thar’s the scent49 o’ a woman on it, sure; an’ whar thar’s a woman Frank Hamersley ain’t likely to be let die o’ sturvashun. He air too good-lookin’ for that. Wall I reck’n it’s all right an’ thar ain’t no more need for me to hurry. T’war rayther a scant50 breakfast I’ve hed, an’ hain’t gin this chile’s in’ards saterfacshun. I’ll jest chaw another griskin o’ the deer-meat to strengthen me for this six-mile tramp southard.”
In less than five minutes after, the smoke from a sage-stalk fire was seen ascending from beside the palmilla, and in its blaze, quickly kindled51, a huge piece of venison, cut from the fat flanks of the doe, weighing at least four pounds, spitted upon one of the stiff blades of the plant, was rapidly turning from blood red to burnt brown.
As circumstances had ofttimes compelled the ex-Ranger to eat his deer-meat underdone, the habit had become his goût; and it was, therefore, not long before the griskin was removed from the spit. Nor much longer till it ceased to be a griskin—having altogether disappeared from his fingers, followed by a gurgling sound, as half the contents of the canteen went washing it down his throat.
“Now!” he said, springing to his feet, after he had completed his Homeric repast, “this chile feels strong enuf to face the devil hisself, an’ tharfor he needn’t be backward ’bout the encounterin’ o’ a angel. So hyar goes to find out Frank Hamersley, an’ how he’s farin’. Anyhow, I’ll take the deer along in case thar mout be a scarcity52 o’ eetables, though I reck’n thar’s no fear o’ that. Whar a angel makes dwelling-place thar oughter be a full crib, though it may be ambrosyer or mannar, or some o’ them fixin’s as a purairy man’s stummick ain’t used to. Anyways, a bit o’ doe-deer meat won’t do no harum. So, Walt Wilder, ole coon, let’s you an’ me set our faces southart, an’ see what’s to turn up at the tarminashun o’ six miles’ trampin’.”
Once more shouldering the carcase, he strides off towards the south, guiding himself by the sun, but more by the hoof-marks of the mustang. These, though scarce distinguishable, under the over-shadowing sage-plants, are descried53 with little difficulty by the experienced eye of the Ranger.
On goes he, now and then muttering to himself conjectures as to what sort of a personage has appropriated and carried off his comrade. But, with all his jocular soliloquising, he feels certain the angel will turn out to be a woman.
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1
westwardly
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| 向西，自西 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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3
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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4
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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outwards
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| adj.外面的，公开的，向外的；adv.向外；n.外形 | |
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6
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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7
ranger
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| n.国家公园管理员，护林员；骑兵巡逻队员 | |
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8
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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9
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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10
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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11
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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12
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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13
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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14
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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15
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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16
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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17
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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18
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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19
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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20
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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21
porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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22
descries
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| v.被看到的，被发现的，被注意到的( descried的现在分词 ) | |
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23
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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25
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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26
spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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27
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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28
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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29
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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30
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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31
impaled
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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33
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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35
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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36
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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37
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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38
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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39
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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40
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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41
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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42
bodes
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| v.预示，预告，预言( bode的第三人称单数 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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43
betokens
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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45
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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46
ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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48
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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49
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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50
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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51
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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52
scarcity
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| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
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53
descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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