Kirby's assistants, the two young Englishmen, had not come back when they were due. One had gone to the mail station in the valley, three days before, and he should have returned at noon, at the furthest limit. By three o'clock, the other had jumped on a horse and gone out to look for him. And now, one was lying in the road five miles from the ranch, with an arrow through his eye. The other, a mile nearer home, was propped4 against a pine trunk, so that the ragged5 hole beneath his shoulder blade, where a barb6 had been torn out, did not show. His wide eyes, upon the lid of one of which the blood from a head wound had clotted7, looked up sightless through the branches, at a patch of blue sky. Their end had been a common[Pg 123] enough one, and had come to them both without a moment of warning.
At noon that day a cow-boy had ridden from the hills with a rumor8 that Victorio's people were about. But Kirby had kept it from his wife. It might not be true. And even if it were, the danger was really small. With the hands and the two Englishmen, the quadrangle of log cabins, well stocked with food and ammunition9, could withstand any attack. It had been built and planned to that end.
The silence, cut by the nervous whispering of the children, became unendurable. "Are you very uneasy about them?" Mrs. Kirby asked.
"It's not so much that," he evaded10, getting up to put a lump of sugar he did not need into his tea, "it's not so much that as it is the everlasting11 strain of fighting the hands. It would be easier to meet an open rebellion than it is to battle against their sullen12 ugliness."
Mrs. Kirby could understand that very well. She had the same thing to oppose day after day with the woman, and of late it had been more marked.
Out in the corral the cow-boy was holding forth13. The men had stopped work on the instant that Kirby had turned his back. If Kirby could loll on soft cushions and drink tea, as free-born Americans and free-souled Irishmen they might do the same. "It's all right," said the cow-boy, with a running accompaniment of profanity, as he cleaned his brutal14 Mexican bit. "Johnny Bull don't have to believe in it if he don't like. But all the same, I seen a feller over here[Pg 124] to the 3 C Range, and he told me he seen the military camped over to San Tomaso a week ago, and that there was a lot of stock, hundred head or so, run off from the settlements. You see, them Apaches is making for the southern Chiricahuas over in Sonora to join the Mexican Apaches, and they're going to come this here way. You see!" and he rubbed at the rust15 vigorously with a piece of soft rawhide16.
The woman joined her voice. She had a meat cleaver17 in her hand, and there was blood on her apron18 where she had wiped the roast she was now leaving to burn in the stove. "Like as not we'll all be massacred. I told Bill to get off this place two weeks ago, and he's such an infernal loafer he couldn't make up his mind to move hisself." She flourished her cleaver toward the big Texan, her husband, who balanced on the tongue of a wagon19, his hands in his pockets, smiling ruefully and apologetically, and chewing with an ardor20 he never put to any other work. "We been here four years now," she went on raspingly, "and if you all feel like staying here to be treated like slaves by these John Bulls, you can do it. But you bet I know when I've got enough. To-morrow I quits." Her jaws21 snapped shut, and she stood glaring at them defiantly22.
The words of a woman in a community where women are few carry almost the weight of inspiration. Be she never so hideous23 or so vile24, she is in some measure a Deborah, and the more yet, if she be moved to the lust3 and love of revenge of the prophetess who sang[Pg 125] in the frenzy25 of blood drunkenness, "Blessed above women shall Jael the wife of Heber, the Kenite, be. Blessed shall she be above women in the tent."
The Declaration of Independence roused the screeching26 eagle of freedom in the breasts of all the white men. With the Mexicans it was a slightly different sentiment. At best they could never be relied upon for steady service. A couple of months' pay in their pockets, and they must rest them for at least six. It is always to be taken into consideration when they are hired. They had been paid only the day before. And, moreover, the Greaser follows the Gringo's lead easily—to his undoing27.
The murmurs28 in the corral rose louder. It was not that Kirby and his partners underpaid, underfed, or overworked the American citizens. It was that their language was decent and moderate; and the lash29 of the slave driver would have stung less than the sight of the black coats and the seven o'clock dinner. In the midst of white savages30 and red, the four clung to the forms of civilization with that dogged persistence32 in the unessential, that worship of the memory of a forsaken33 home, for which the Englishman, time and again, lays down his life without hesitation34. That was the grievance35.
While Kirby went through the oppressive rite36 of afternoon tea within the slant-roofed log cabin, and tried to hide from his wife the fear which grew as the shadows lengthened37 across the clearing out in the corral, the men had reached open mutiny. The smouldering sullenness[Pg 126] had at last burst into flaming defiance38, blown by the gale39 of the woman's wrath40.
After he had had his tea Kirby got up, went out to the corral, and called to one of the men, who hesitated for a moment, then slouched over, kicking with his heavy booted toe as he passed at the hocks of a horse in one of the stalls. Kirby saw him do it, but he checked his wrath. He had learned to put up with many things. "Don't you think," he suggested, "that it might be a good idea for you and some other man to ride down the road a bit—"
The man interrupted, "I ain't going daown the road, nor anywheres else before supper—nor after supper neither, if I don't feel like it." He was bold enough in speech, but his eyes dropped before Kirby's indignant ones.
It was a fatal want of tact41 perhaps, characteristic of the race, but then the characteristic is so fine. "You will do whatever I tell you to do," the voice was low and strained, but not wavering. It reached the group by the harness-room door.
With one accord they strode forward to the support of their somewhat browbeaten42 brother. What they would do was exactly as they pleased, they told the tyrant43. They shook their fists in his face. It was all in the brutal speech of the frontier, mingled44 with the liquid ripple45 of argot46 Spanish, and its vicious, musical oaths. The deep voice of the woman carried above everything, less decent than the men. It was a storm of injury.
[Pg 127]
Kirby was without fear, but he was also without redress47. He turned from them, his face contracted with the pain of his impotence, and walked back to the house. "I could order them off the ranch to-night," he told his wife, as he dropped on a chair, and taking up the hearth48 brush made a feint of sweeping49 two or three cinders50 from the floor; "but it's ten to one they wouldn't go and it would weaken my authority—not that I have any, to be sure—and besides," he flung down the brush desperately51 and turned to her, "I didn't want to tell you before, but there is a pretty straight rumor that Victorio's band, or a part of it, is in these hills. We may need the men at any time." Neither spoke52 of the two who should have been back hours ago. The night closed slowly down.
The Texan woman went back to the kitchen and finished cooking the supper for the hands—a charred53 sort of Saturnalian feast. "She can git her own dinner if she wants to," she proclaimed, and was answered by a chorus of approval.
While the men sat at the long table, shovelling54 in with knife and three-pronged fork the food of the master their pride forbade them to serve, a horse came at a run, up to the quadrangle, and a cow-boy rushed into the open doorway55. "Apaches!" he gasped56, clutching at the lintel, wild-eyed, "Apaches!"
They sprang up, with a clatter57 of dishes and overturning of benches and a simultaneous cry of "Whereabouts?"
He had seen a large band heading for the ranch, and[Pg 128] had found a dead white man on the north road, he said, and he gesticulated madly, his voice choked with terror.
Had it been all arranged, planned, and rehearsed for months beforehand, the action could not have been more united. They crowded past him out of the door and ran for the corrals, and each dragged a horse or a mule58 from the stalls, flinging on a halter or rope or bridle59, whatever came to hand, from the walls of the harness room.
But there was more stock than was needed.
"Turn the rest loose," cried the woman, and set the example herself.
Kirby, hurrying from the house to learn the cause of the new uproar60, was all but knocked down and trodden under the hoofs61 of all his stock, driven from the enclosure with cracking of whips and with stones. Then a dozen ridden horses crowded over the dropped bars, the woman in the lead astride, as were the men.
"What is this?" he shouted, grabbing at a halter-shank and clinging to it until a knife slashed62 down on his wrist.
"Apaches on the north road," they called back; and the woman screamed above it all a devilish farewell, "Better have 'em to dinner in claw-hammer coats."
It was a sheer waste of good ammunition, and it might serve as a signal to the Indians as well; Kirby knew it, and yet he emptied his six-shooter into the deep shadows of the trees where they had vanished, toward the south.
Then he ran into the corral, and, snatching up a [Pg 129]lantern from the harness room, looked around. It was empty. There was only a pack-burro wandering loose and nosing at the grains in the mangers.
He turned and went back to the cabin, where his wife stood at the door, with the children clinging to her. From down the north road there came a blood-freezing yell, and a shot, reverberating63, rattling64 from hill to hill, muffling65 into silence among the crowding pines.
As he shut the door and bolted it with the great iron rods, there tore into the clearing a score of vague, savage31 figures. It looked, when he saw it for an instant, as he put up the wooden blinds, like some phantom66 dance of the devils of the mountains, so silent they were, with their unshod ponies67, so quick moving. And then a short silence was broken by cries and shots, the pinge of bullets, and the whizz of arrows.
There were two rooms to the cabin where they were, the big sitting room and the small bedchamber beyond. Kirby went into the bedroom and came out with two rifles and a revolver. He put the revolver into his wife's hands. "I'll do my best, you know, dear. But if I'm done for, if there is no hope for you and the children, use it," he said. And added, "You understand?"
Of a truth she understood only too well, that death with a bullet through the brain could be a tender mercy.
"Not until there is no hope," he impressed, as he put the barrel of his rifle through a knot hole and fired at random68.
[Pg 130]
She reloaded for him, and fired from time to time herself, and he moved from the little round hole in the wall to one in the window blind, in the feeble, the faithless hope that the Indians might perhaps be deceived, might fancy that there was more than the one forsaken man fighting with unavailing courage for the quiet woman who stayed close by his side, and for the two children, huddled69 whimpering in one corner, their little trembling arms clasped round each other's necks.
Twenty, yes ten, of those who, as the sound of the firing reached their ears, were making off at a run down the south road for the settlement in the valley, could have saved the fair-haired children and the young mother, who helped in the fruitless fight without a plaint of fear. Ten men could have done it, could have done it easily; but not one man. And Kirby knew it now, as the light of flames began to show through the chinks of the logs, and the weight of heavy bodies thudded against the door.
It was a strong door, built of great thick boards and barred with iron, but it must surely cede70 before fire and the blows. It wrenched71 on its huge hinges.
Kirby set down his gun and turned to his wife, holding out his arms. She went to him and he kissed her on the forehead and the lips, in farewell. "Good-by," he said; "now take the children in there."
No need to tell her that her courage must not falter72 at that last moment, which would soon come. He knew it, as he looked straight into those steadfast73, loving[Pg 131] eyes. She clung to his hand and stooped and kissed it, too; then she went to the children and took them, quivering and crying, into the other room, and closed the dividing door.
Kirby, with a revolver in each hand, placed himself before it. It would avail nothing. But a man must needs fight to the end. And the end was now.
There was a stronger blow at the door, as of a log used by way of a ram74. It gave, swayed, and fell crashing in, and the big room swarmed75 with screaming fiends, their eyes gleaming wildly in the light of the burning hay and the branches piled against the cabin, as they waved their arms over their feathered heads.
The one man at bay whirled round twice, with a bullet in his heart and an arrow through his neck. "Now!" he made one fierce effort to cry, as he staggered again and dropped on his face, to be trampled76 under forty feet.
It was the signal to the woman in that other room behind the locked door, and above all the demoniacal sounds it reached her. Only an instant she hesitated, until that door, too, began to give. Then a cold muzzle77 of steel found, in the darkness, two little struggling, dodging78 faces—and left them marred79. And once again the trigger was unflinchingly pulled, as greedy arms reached out to catch the white, woman's figure that staggered and fell.
* * * * * * * *
Cairness and Landor and a detachment of troops that had ridden hard all through the night, following an[Pg 132] appalling80 trail, but coming too late after all, found them so in the early dawn.
There was a mutilated thing that had once been a man's body on the floor in the half-burned log cabin. And in another room lay two children, whose smooth, baby foreheads were marked, each with a round violet-edged hole. Beside them was their mother, with her face turned to the rough boards—mercifully. For there had been no time to choose the placing of that last shot, and it had disfigured cruelly as it did its certain work.
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1
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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3
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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4
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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7
clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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9
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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10
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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11
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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12
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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13
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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14
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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15
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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16
rawhide
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| n.生牛皮 | |
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17
cleaver
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| n.切肉刀 | |
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18
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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20
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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21
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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22
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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23
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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24
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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25
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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26
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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27
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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28
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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29
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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30
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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31
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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32
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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33
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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34
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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35
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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36
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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37
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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40
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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41
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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42
browbeaten
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
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43
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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44
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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45
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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46
argot
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| n.隐语，黑话 | |
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47
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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48
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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49
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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50
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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51
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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52
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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53
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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54
shovelling
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| v.铲子( shovel的现在分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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55
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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56
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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57
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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58
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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59
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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60
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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61
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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62
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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63
reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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64
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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65
muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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66
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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67
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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68
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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70
cede
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| v.割让，放弃 | |
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71
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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72
falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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73
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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74
ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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75
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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76
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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77
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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78
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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79
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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80
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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