I was on a visit to Sam Durkee's ranch4, where I had a great time falling off unmanicured ponies5 and waving my bare hand at the lower jaws6 of wolves about two miles away. Sam was a hardened person of about twenty-five, with a reputation for going home in the dark with perfect equanimity7, though often with reluctance8.
Over in the Creek9 Nation was a family bearing the name of Tatum. I was told that the Durkees and Tatums had been feuding10 for years. Several of each family had bitten the grass, and it was expected that more Nebuchadnezzars would follow. A younger generation of each family was growing up, and the grass was keeping pace with them. But I gathered that they had fought fairly; that they had not lain in cornfields and aimed at the division of their enemies' suspenders in the back—partly, perhaps, because there were no cornfields, and nobody wore more than one suspender. Nor had any woman or child of either house ever been harmed. In those days—and you will find it so yet—their women were safe.
Sam Durkee had a girl. (If it were an all-fiction magazine that I expect to sell this story to, I should say, "Mr. Durkee rejoiced in a fiancée.") Her name was Ella Baynes. They appeared to be devoted11 to each other, and to have perfect confidence in each other, as all couples do who are and have or aren't and haven't. She was tolerably pretty, with a heavy mass of brown hair that helped her along. He introduced me to her, which seemed not to lessen12 her preference for him; so I reasoned that they were surely soul-mates.
Miss Baynes lived in Kingfisher, twenty miles from the ranch. Sam lived on a gallop13 between the two places.
One day there came to Kingfisher a courageous14 young man, rather small, with smooth face and regular features. He made many inquiries15 about the business of the town, and especially of the inhabitants cognominally. He said he was from Muscogee, and he looked it, with his yellow shoes and crocheted16 four-in-hand. I met him once when I rode in for the mail. He said his name was Beverly Travers, which seemed rather improbable.
There were active times on the ranch, just then, and Sam was too busy to go to town often. As an incompetent17 and generally worthless guest, it devolved upon me to ride in for little things such as post cards, barrels of flour, baking-powder, smoking-tobacco, and—letters from Ella.
One day, when I was messenger for half a gross of cigarette papers and a couple of wagon18 tires, I saw the alleged19 Beverly Travers in a yellow-wheeled buggy with Ella Baynes, driving about town as ostentatiously as the black, waxy20 mud would permit. I knew that this information would bring no balm of Gilead to Sam's soul, so I refrained from including it in the news of the city that I retailed21 on my return. But on the next afternoon an elongated22 ex-cowboy of the name of Simmons, an old-time pal23 of Sam's, who kept a feed store in Kingfisher, rode out to the ranch and rolled and burned many cigarettes before he would talk. When he did make oration24, his words were these:
"Say, Sam, there's been a description of a galoot miscallin' himself Bevel-edged Travels impairing25 the atmospheric26 air of Kingfisher for the past two weeks. You know who he was? He was not otherwise than Ben Tatum, from the Creek Nation, son of old Gopher Tatum that your Uncle Newt shot last February. You know what he done this morning? He killed your brother Lester—shot him in the co't-house yard."
"He did, did he? He killed Lester?"
"The same," said Simmons. "And he did more. He run away with your girl, the same as to say Miss Ella Baynes. I thought you might like to know, so I rode out to impart the information."
"I am much obliged, Jim," said Sam, taking the chewed twig from his mouth. "Yes, I'm glad you rode Out. Yes, I'm right glad."
"Well, I'll be ridin' back, I reckon. That boy I left in the feed store don't know hay from oats. He shot Lester in the back."
"Shot him in the back?"
"Yes, while he was hitchin' his hoss."
"I'm much obliged, Jim."
"I kind of thought you'd like to know as soon as you could."
"Come in and have some coffee before you ride back, Jim?"
"Why, no, I reckon not; I must get back to the store."
"And you say—"
"Yes, Sam. Everybody seen 'em drive away together in a buckboard, with a big bundle, like clothes, tied up in the back of it. He was drivin' the team he brought over with him from Muscogee. They'll be hard to overtake right away."
"And which—"
"I was goin' on to tell you. They left on the Guthrie road; but there's no tellin' which forks they'll take—you know that."
"All right, Jim; much obliged."
"You're welcome, Sam."
Simmons rolled a cigarette and stabbed his pony28 with both heels. Twenty yards away he reined29 up and called back:
"You don't want no—assistance, as you might say?"
"Not any, thanks."
"I didn't think you would. Well, so long!"
Sam took out and opened a bone-handled pocket-knife and scraped a dried piece of mud from his left boot. I thought at first he was going to swear a vendetta30 on the blade of it, or recite "The Gipsy's Curse." The few feuds I had ever seen or read about usually opened that way. This one seemed to be presented with a new treatment. Thus offered on the stage, it would have been hissed31 off, and one of Belasco's thrilling melodramas32 demanded instead.
"I wonder," said Sam, with a profoundly thoughtful expression, "if the cook has any cold beans left over!"
He called Wash, the Negro cook, and finding that he had some, ordered him to heat up the pot and make some strong coffee. Then we went into Sam's private room, where he slept, and kept his armoury, dogs, and the saddles of his favourite mounts. He took three or four six-shooters out of a bookcase and began to look them over, whistling "The Cowboy's Lament33" abstractedly. Afterward34 he ordered the two best horses on the ranch saddled and tied to the hitching-post.
Now, in the feud business, in all sections of the country, I have observed that in one particular there is a delicate but strict etiquette35 belonging. You must not mention the word or refer to the subject in the presence of a feudist. It would be more reprehensible36 than commenting upon the mole37 on the chin of your rich aunt. I found, later on, that there is another unwritten rule, but I think that belongs solely38 to the West.
It yet lacked two hours to supper-time; but in twenty minutes Sam and I were plunging39 deep into the reheated beans, hot coffee, and cold beef.
I had a sudden suspicion.
"Why did you have two horses saddled?" I asked.
"One, two—one, two," said Sam. "You can count, can't you?"
His mathematics carried with it a momentary41 qualm and a lesson. The thought had not occurred to him that the thought could possibly occur to me not to ride at his side on that red road to revenge and justice. It was the higher calculus42. I was booked for the trail. I began to eat more beans.
In an hour we set forth43 at a steady gallop eastward44. Our horses were Kentucky-bred, strengthened by the mesquite grass of the west. Ben Tatum's steeds may have been swifter, and he had a good lead; but if he had heard the punctual thuds of the hoofs45 of those trailers of ours, born in the heart of feudland, he might have felt that retribution was creeping up on the hoof-prints of his dapper nags46.
I knew that Ben Tatum's card to play was flight—flight until he came within the safer territory of his own henchmen and supporters. He knew that the man pursuing him would follow the trail to any end where it might lead.
During the ride Sam talked of the prospect47 for rain, of the price of beef, and of the musical glasses. You would have thought he had never had a brother or a sweetheart or an enemy on earth. There are some subjects too big even for the words in the "Unabridged." Knowing this phase of the feud code, but not having practised it sufficiently48, I overdid49 the thing by telling some slightly funny anecdotes50. Sam laughed at exactly the right place—laughed with his mouth. When I caught sight of his mouth, I wished I had been blessed with enough sense of humour to have suppressed those anecdotes.
Our first sight of them we had in Guthrie. Tired and hungry, we stumbled, unwashed, into a little yellow-pine hotel and sat at a table. In the opposite corner we saw the fugitives51. They were bent52 upon their meal, but looked around at times uneasily.
The girl was dressed in brown—one of these smooth, half-shiny, silky-looking affairs with lace collar and cuffs53, and what I believe they call an accordion-plaited skirt. She wore a thick brown veil down to her nose, and a broad-brimmed straw hat with some kind of feathers adorning54 it. The man wore plain, dark clothes, and his hair was trimmed very short. He was such a man as you might see anywhere.
There they were—the murderer and the woman he had stolen. There we were—the rightful avenger55, according to the code, and the supernumerary who writes these words.
For one time, at least, in the heart of the supernumerary there rose the killing56 instinct. For one moment he joined the force of combatants—orally.
"What are you waiting for, Sam?" I said in a whisper. "Let him have it now!"
Sam gave a melancholy57 sigh.
"You don't understand; but he does," he said. "He knows. Mr. Tenderfoot, there's a rule out here among white men in the Nation that you can't shoot a man when he's with a woman. I never knew it to be broke yet. You can't do it. You've got to get him in a gang of men or by himself. That's why. He knows it, too. We all know. So, that's Mr. Ben Tatum! One of the 'pretty men'! I'll cut him out of the herd58 before they leave the hotel, and regulate his account!"
After supper the flying pair disappeared quickly. Although Sam haunted lobby and stairway and halls half the night, in some mysterious way the fugitives eluded59 him; and in the morning the veiled lady in the brown dress with the accordion-plaited skirt and the dapper young man with the close-clipped hair, and the buckboard with the prancing60 nags, were gone.
It is a monotonous61 story, that of the ride; so it shall be curtailed62. Once again we overtook them on a road. We were about fifty yards behind. They turned in the buckboard and looked at us; then drove on without whipping up their horses. Their safety no longer lay in speed. Ben Tatum knew. He knew that the only rock of safety left to him was the code. There is no doubt that, had he been alone, the matter would have been settled quickly with Sam Durkee in the usual way; but he had something at his side that kept still the trigger-finger of both. It seemed likely that he was no coward.
So, you may perceive that woman, on occasions, may postpone63 instead of precipitating64 conflict between man and man. But not willingly or consciously. She is oblivious65 of codes.
Five miles farther, we came upon the future great Western city of Chandler. The horses of pursuers and pursued were starved and weary. There was one hotel that offered danger to man and entertainment to beast; so the four of us met again in the dining room at the ringing of a bell so resonant66 and large that it had cracked the welkin long ago. The dining room was not as large as the one at Guthrie.
Just as we were eating apple pie—how Ben Davises and tragedy impinge upon each other!—I noticed Sam looking with keen intentness at our quarry67 where they were seated at a table across the room. The girl still wore the brown dress with lace collar and cuffs, and the veil drawn68 down to her nose. The man bent over his plate, with his close cropped head held low.
"There's a code," I heard Sam say, either to me or to himself, "that won't let you shoot a man in the company of a woman; but, by thunder, there ain't one to keep you from killing a woman in the company of a man!"
And, quicker than my mind could follow his argument, he whipped a Colt's automatic from under his left arm and pumped six bullets into the body that the brown dress covered—the brown dress with the lace collar and cuffs and the accordion-plaited skirt.
The young person in the dark sack suit, from whose head and from whose life a woman's glory had been clipped, laid her head on her arms stretched upon the table; while people came running to raise Ben Tatum from the floor in his feminine masquerade that had given Sam the opportunity to set aside, technically69, the obligations of the code.
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1
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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feuds
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| n.长期不和，世仇( feud的名词复数 ) | |
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honeymoons
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| 蜜月( honeymoon的名词复数 )； 短暂的和谐时期； 蜜月期； 最初的和谐时期 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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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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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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feuding
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| vi.长期不和（feud的现在分词形式） | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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14
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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15
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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16
crocheted
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| v.用钩针编织( crochet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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18
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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19
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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waxy
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| adj.苍白的；光滑的 | |
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retailed
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| vt.零售（retail的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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22
elongated
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| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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oration
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| n.演说，致辞，叙述法 | |
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impairing
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| v.损害，削弱( impair的现在分词 ) | |
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26
atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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27
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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29
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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30
vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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31
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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32
melodramas
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| 情节剧( melodrama的名词复数 ) | |
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33
lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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36
reprehensible
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| adj.该受责备的 | |
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37
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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39
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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40
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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41
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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42
calculus
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| n.微积分；结石 | |
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43
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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45
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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46
nags
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| n.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的名词复数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的第三人称单数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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47
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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48
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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49
overdid
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去式 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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50
anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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51
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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52
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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53
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
adorning
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| 修饰，装饰物 | |
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avenger
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| n. 复仇者 | |
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56
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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58
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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59
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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60
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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62
curtailed
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| v.截断，缩短( curtail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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64
precipitating
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| adj.急落的，猛冲的v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的现在分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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66
resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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67
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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68
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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