The day was sweet with the scents2 and sounds of summer. Birds called from the thickets3, high up the pine tops, stirred by a little wind, sang their everlasting4 diapason, while she could hear far back the voice of Nameless, growing fainter as she left it.
At another time she would have missed nothing of all this, would have gloried in it, drunk with the wine of nature. Now a shadow hung over all the fair expanse of slope and mountain range, an oppression heavy, almost, as the hand of death sat on her heart.
She rode slowly, letting Buckskin take his own time and way, her hands folded listlessly on her pommel, her faded brown riding skirt swinging at her ankles. She had discarded her disfiguring bonnet5 for a wide felt hat of Bud’s and her bright hair shone under it like dull gold. She was scarcely thinking. She had given way to feeling—to feeling the acid of defeat eating at her vitals, the hand of an intangible force pressing upon her.
And she had to face McKane and tell him she could not pay her debt. That seemed the worst of all. She could go without their necessities—her Mammy’s shoes and Bud’s new underwear—and as for the luxuries she had planned, like the blue dress and the carpet—why, she would cease thinking about them at once, though the giving up of the carpet did come hard, she frankly7 owned to that. But to fail in her promise to pay—ah, that was gall8 to her spirit! However, it couldn’t kill them, she reasoned, no matter how bitter might be their humiliation9. There was always another day, another year, for work and hope, and there were still the hogs10. They would bring, at least, enough for the winter’s food supply of flour and sugar, salt and tea.
She could not turn them in on the debt—the trader must see that.
Cordova lay sleeping under a late noon-day sun when she rode into the end of the struggling street. A few horses were tied to the hitch11 rack in front of the store and a half-dozen men lounged on the porch. Nance went hot and cold at sight of them.
She had hoped all the way down that McKane would be alone, for no conversation inside the store could fail to be audible on the porch. It would be hard enough to talk to him without an interested audience.
She felt terribly alien, as if these people were allied12 against her, and yet she could not discern among the loungers anyone from Sky Line.
As she drew near she did see with a grateful thrill that Sheriff Price Selwood sat tilted13 back against the door-jamb, his feet on the rung of his chair. At sight of him a bit of the distress14 left her, a faint confidence took its place. She remembered his kindly15 eyes that could harden and narrow so quickly, his way of understanding things and people.
She dismounted and tied Buckskin under a tree and went forward. As she mounted the steps the sheriff looked up, rose and raised his hat.
Nance smiled at him more gratefully than she knew.
Then she stepped inside the door—and came face to face with Kate Cathrew who was just coming out. McKane was behind her carrying a small sack which held her mail and some few purchases.
The two women stopped instantly, their eyes upon each other.
At sight of this woman whose unproved, hidden workings had meant so much to her, Nance Allison’s face went slowly white.
She stood still in the door, straight and quiet, and looked at her in silence.
At the prolonged intensity18 of her scrutiny19 Cattle Kate flung up her head and smiled, a conscious, insolent20 action.
“If you don’t want all the door, young woman,” she said, “please.”
She made a move to pass, but Nance suddenly put out a hand.
“I do,” said the girl, “want it all. I have something to tell McKane, and you may as well hear it.”
The imperious face of Kate Cathrew flushed darkly with the rising tide of her temper.
“Get—out—of—that—door,” she said distinctly, but for once she was not obeyed.
The big girl standing16 on the threshold looked over her head at the trader. There was a little white line pinched in at the base of Nance’s nostrils22, her blue eyes were colder and narrower than any one had ever seen them in her life.
“McKane,” she said clearly, so that the hushed listeners behind her caught every syllable23, “you know what a fight I’ve made to hold my own on Nameless since my father died—or was killed. You know how close to the wind I’ve sailed to eat, for you’ve sold me what we’ve had. And I’ve always managed to keep even, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” said the trader uneasily.
“Up till six months ago when I had to go in debt for a new harness or do no work in my fields this spring, I told you when I bought it, didn’t I, why I had to buy it?”
“Yes,” he said again.
“It was because someone went into my barn one night and cut the old harness into ribbons. That put me in debt to you for the first time.”
She stopped and wet her lips. There was the sound of someone rising on the porch and Price Selwood moved in behind her.
She felt him there and a thrill went through her, as if he had put a hand on her shoulder.
“I told you when I bought it that I’d pay you when my corn was ripe—that, if it went well, I’d have far and away more than enough. Well, it went well—so well that I knew yesterday I’d come out ahead and be able to meet that debt and live beside. This morning that field of corn was gone—trampled24 out—cut to pieces like my harness—pounded into the dirt by a band of cattle that had been driven—driven, you understand—over every foot of it. There was a wide gap cut in the fence at the upper end. That’s all—but I can’t pay my debt to you.”
She stopped and a sharp silence fell. Outside the store in the shade the stallion Bluefire screamed and stamped.
Kate Cathrew took a quick step forward.
“What for did you tell this drivel before me?” she said. “What’s it to me?”
“Nothing, I know,” said Nance; “maybe a laugh—maybe a hope. My big flats on the river’d feed a pretty bunch of cattle through. And Homesteaders have been driven out of the cattle country before now.”
“You hussy!” cried Cattle Kate, and, bending back she flung up the hand which held the braided quirt. The lash25 snapped viciously, but Nance Allison was quicker than the whip. Her own arm flashed up and she caught the descending26 wrist in the grip of a hand which had held a plow27 all spring.
Like a lever her arm came down and forced Kate’s hand straight down to her knee, so that the flaming black eyes were within a few inches of her face.
“Woman,” said Nance clearly, “I’m living up to my lights the best I can. I’m holding myself hard to walk in the straight road. The hand of God is before my face and you can’t hurt me—not lastingly28. Now you—get—out—of—that—door.”
And turning she moved Selwood with her as she swung the other, whirling like a Dervish, clear to the middle of the porch.
Kate Cathrew’s face was livid, terrible to look upon.
She ran the short distance to the end of the platform, leaped off and darted29 to her horse, her hands clawing at the rifle which hung on her saddle.
Selwood pushed Nance inside the store and flung the door shut.
When Kate came running back with the gun in her hands he faced her before the closed door, his hands in his pockets.
If any of the tense watchers had had a doubt of Price Selwood’s courage they lost it then, for he took his life in his hands.
“Kate,” he said quietly, “put up that gun. This isn’t outlaw31 country. If you make a blunder you’ll hang just like any other murderer—even if you are Kate Cathrew.”
For a moment the woman looked at him as a trapped wild-cat might have done, her lips loose and shaking, her eyes mad with rage.
Then she struck the rifle, butt32 down, on the hard earth and with a full-mouthed oath, flung around the corner, tore the stallion’s reins33 from the ring in the wall and mounted with a whirl.
Selwood opened the door.
“A narrow shave,” he said gravely, “if that had happened anywhere but here you’d be a dead woman, Miss Allison.”
“Perhaps,” said Nance, “she’s taken two shots at me already from the hillside—or someone has. Well—I’ve told you, McKane, as was your right. Now I’ll go back to Nameless.”
She turned away, but the trader cleared his throat.
“Ah—about the money for the harness,” he said apologetically, “I—that is—I’ve got to collect it. Times ain’t——”
Price Selwood swung around and shot a look at him.
“Eh?” he said. “Got to collect——? Ah, yes, I see—at Cattle Kate’s request! You are a fool, McKane. Here, Miss Allison—I’m the sheriff of this county. Wouldn’t you rather owe me that money than owe it to McKane? I can wait till you raise another crop—I’m not so pushed as our friend here. What do you say?”
Nance raised her eyes to his and they were suddenly soft and blue again. The tight line let go about her upper lip and a stiff smile came instead.
“You knew my Pappy—and I have not forgot how kind you were after—after——. Yes, Mr. Selwood, I’d rather owe you, a whole lot rather, and I’ll work doubly hard to pay you back.”
Selwood drew some bills from his pocket.
“How much, McKane?” he asked.
“Now if you’d just as soon,” said the sheriff, “I’ll ride out to Nameless with you. I’d like to take a look at that trampled field.”
As they left the town and rode out into the trail that led to Nameless, Nance took off her hat and drew a long, deep breath.
Selwood laughed.
“Do you feel like that?” he asked.
“Exactly,” said she, “like a weight was off my shoulders. That debt to McKane was a bitter load.”
“The trader is getting into deep water” said the sheriff. “I hate to see him do it.”
“How—deep water?”
“He’s falling more and more into Cattle Kate’s power—and all for nothing. He knows it, but seems helpless. I’ve seen the like before. She’s a bad woman to tie to.”
“She’s handsome—that’s one thing sure.”
“Yes. Her type is always handsome. But I’m surprised to hear you say so.”
“Why?” asked the girl wonderingly.
“Because most women hate to admit beauty in another, and of all people on Nameless you have the least reason to see anything attractive in her.”
“As near as I’ll let myself come to hate,” she said, “I do hate her. I’ve got to fight it mighty37 hard. You know how hard it is to fight that way—inside your own soul.”
“Hardest battle-ground we ever stand on,” said Selwood with conviction. “I’ve had some skirmishes there myself—and I can’t say I always came off victor.”
“You can’t, sometimes, without a lot of prayer,” returned Nance soberly, “I’ve pretty near worn out my knees on the job.”
They rode for a time in silence, Nance and Buckskin ahead, the sheriff following on his lean bay horse.
Presently Nance turned with a hand on her pony’s rump and looked at him speculatively39.
He nodded.
“I was in Little Blue Cañon the other day,” said Nance, “and saw Sud Provine pass its mouth in Blue Stone driving a red steer41 north. I’ve wondered a lot where he could have been taking it.”
“North in Blue Stone? That’s odd. There isn’t enough feed in that cañon to graze a calf42 two days.”
“And what’s at its head?” asked Nance, “I’ve never been clear up.”
“Blue Stone heads high in the Deep Heart hills,” said the sheriff, “but about eight miles up from its mouth on Nameless its right wall falls abruptly43 away for a distance of a couple of miles and there one can go out on the open plain that stretches over toward the Sawtooth Range and leads out to Marston and the railroad. There’s some bunch grass there, but mighty little water. Nothing but the stream in the cañon itself to come back to. And cattle driven so far away from the home range would be a poor risk, it seems to me, for Sky Line.”
“Well—I wondered about it. Thought I’d tell you any way.”
“I’m glad you did. I shall remember it.”
At the homestead Nance led Selwood to the corn field’s lower gate and left him.
“Go over it if you want,” she said, “and I’ll be out in a minute or so.”
At the cabin she told Sonny to go into her room and stay until she came for him.
“I feel guilty,” she thought, “for I can trust the sheriff, but Brand asked me to keep him hidden. I’ve got to be true to my promise.”
“You ask the sheriff to supper,” said Mrs. Allison, “I’ll kill a fryer an’ make some biscuits.”
When Nance went out she found Selwood examining the trampled field minutely.
“Must have had fifty head or more,” he said, “and five or six riders. Sud Provine was one of them.”
“Yes? How can you tell?”
“I know his horse’s tracks,” grinned the sheriff, “it’s that big grey gelding.”
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收听单词发音
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1
nance
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| n.娘娘腔的男人，男同性恋者 | |
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2
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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4
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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5
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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7
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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10
hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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11
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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12
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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13
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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14
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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15
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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16
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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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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18
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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19
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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20
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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22
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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23
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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24
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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25
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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26
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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27
plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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28
lastingly
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| [医]有残留性，持久地，耐久地 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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30
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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31
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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32
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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34
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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35
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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37
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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38
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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39
speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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40
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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41
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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42
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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43
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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