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his lips.
With a curse he threw the bottle at Hare, missing him narrowly. He was
drunk. His eyes were bloodshot.
"If you tell father you saw me drinking I'll kill you!" he hissed, and
rattling his Colt in its holster, he walked away.
Hare walked back to his bed, where he lay for a long time with his whole
inner being in a state of strife. It gradually wore off as he strove for
calm. The playground was deserted; no one had seen Snap's action, and
for that he was glad. Then his attention was diverted by a clatter of
ringing hoofs on the road; a mustang and a cloud of dust were
approaching.
"Mescal and Black Bolly!" he exclaimed, and sat up quickly. The mustang
turned in the gate, slid to a stop, and stood quivering, restive, tossing
its thoroughbred head, black as a coal, with freedom and fire in every
line. Mescal leaped off lightly. A gray form flashed in at the gate,
fell at her feet and rose to leap about her. It was a splendid dog, huge
in frame, almost white, wild as the mustang.
This was the Mescal whom he remembered, yet somehow different. The
sombre homespun garments had given place to fringed and beaded buckskin.
"I've come for you," she said.
"For me?" he asked, wonderingly, as she approached with the bridle of the
black over her arm.
"Down, Wolf!" she cried to the leaping dog. "Yes. Didn't you know?
Father Naab says you're to help me tend the sheep. Are you better? I
hope so— You're quite pale."
"I—I'm not so well," said Hare.
He looked up at her, at the black sweep of her hair under the white band,
at her eyes, like jet; and suddenly realized, with a gladness new and
strange to him, that he liked to look at her, that she was beautiful.
V - Black Sage and Juniper
*
AUGUST NAAB appeared on the path leading from his fields.
"Mescal, here you are," he greeted. "How about the sheep?"
"Piute's driving them down to the lower range. There are a thousand
coyotes hanging about the flock."
"That's bad," rejoined August. "Jack, there's evidently some real
shooting in store for you. We'll pack to-day and get an early start
to-morrow. I'll put you on Noddle; he's slow, but the easiest climber I
ever owned. He's like riding . . . What's the matter with you? What's
happened to make you angry?"
One of his long strides spanned the distance between them.
"Oh, nothing," said Hare, flushing.
"Lad, I know of few circumstances that justify a lie. You've met Snap."
Hare might still have tried to dissimulate; but one glance at August's
stern face showed the uselessness of it. He kept silent.
"Drink makes my son unnatural," said Naab. He breathed heavily as one in
conflict with wrath. "We'll not wait till to-morrow to go up on the
plateau; we'll go at once."
Then quick surprise awakened for Hare in the meaning in Mescal's eyes; he
caught only a fleeting glimpse, a dark flash, and it left him with a glow
of an emotion half pleasure, half pain.
"Mescal," went on August, "go into the house, and keep out of Snap's way.
Jack, watch me pack. You need to learn these things. I could put all
this outfit on two burros, but the trail is narrow, and a wide pack might
bump a burro off. Let's see, I've got all your stuff but the saddle;
that we'll leave till we get a horse for you. Well, all's ready."
Mescal came at his call and, mounting Black Bolly, rode out toward the
cliff wall, with Wolf trotting before her. Hare bestrode Noddle.
August, waving good-bye to his women-folk, started the train of burros
after Mescal.
How they would be able to climb the face of that steep cliff puzzled
Hare. Upon nearer view he discovered the yard-wide trail curving upward
in cork-screw fashion round a projecting corner of cliff. The stone was
a soft red shale, and the trail had been cut in it at a steep angle. It
was so steep that the burros appeared to be climbing straight up. Noddle
pattered into it, dropped his head and his long ears and slackened his
pace to patient plodding. August walked in the rear.
The first thing that struck
his lips.
With a curse he threw the bottle at Hare, missing him narrowly. He was
drunk. His eyes were bloodshot.
"If you tell father you saw me drinking I'll kill you!" he hissed, and
rattling his Colt in its holster, he walked away.
Hare walked back to his bed, where he lay for a long time with his whole
inner being in a state of strife. It gradually wore off as he strove for
calm. The playground was deserted; no one had seen Snap's action, and
for that he was glad. Then his attention was diverted by a clatter of
ringing hoofs on the road; a mustang and a cloud of dust were
approaching.
"Mescal and Black Bolly!" he exclaimed, and sat up quickly. The mustang
turned in the gate, slid to a stop, and stood quivering, restive, tossing
its thoroughbred head, black as a coal, with freedom and fire in every
line. Mescal leaped off lightly. A gray form flashed in at the gate,
fell at her feet and rose to leap about her. It was a splendid dog, huge
in frame, almost white, wild as the mustang.
This was the Mescal whom he remembered, yet somehow different. The
sombre homespun garments had given place to fringed and beaded buckskin.
"I've come for you," she said.
"For me?" he asked, wonderingly, as she approached with the bridle of the
black over her arm.
"Down, Wolf!" she cried to the leaping dog. "Yes. Didn't you know?
Father Naab says you're to help me tend the sheep. Are you better? I
hope so— You're quite pale."
"I—I'm not so well," said Hare.
He looked up at her, at the black sweep of her hair under the white band,
at her eyes, like jet; and suddenly realized, with a gladness new and
strange to him, that he liked to look at her, that she was beautiful.
V - Black Sage and Juniper
*
AUGUST NAAB appeared on the path leading from his fields.
"Mescal, here you are," he greeted. "How about the sheep?"
"Piute's driving them down to the lower range. There are a thousand
coyotes hanging about the flock."
"That's bad," rejoined August. "Jack, there's evidently some real
shooting in store for you. We'll pack to-day and get an early start
to-morrow. I'll put you on Noddle; he's slow, but the easiest climber I
ever owned. He's like riding . . . What's the matter with you? What's
happened to make you angry?"
One of his long strides spanned the distance between them.
"Oh, nothing," said Hare, flushing.
"Lad, I know of few circumstances that justify a lie. You've met Snap."
Hare might still have tried to dissimulate; but one glance at August's
stern face showed the uselessness of it. He kept silent.
"Drink makes my son unnatural," said Naab. He breathed heavily as one in
conflict with wrath. "We'll not wait till to-morrow to go up on the
plateau; we'll go at once."
Then quick surprise awakened for Hare in the meaning in Mescal's eyes; he
caught only a fleeting glimpse, a dark flash, and it left him with a glow
of an emotion half pleasure, half pain.
"Mescal," went on August, "go into the house, and keep out of Snap's way.
Jack, watch me pack. You need to learn these things. I could put all
this outfit on two burros, but the trail is narrow, and a wide pack might
bump a burro off. Let's see, I've got all your stuff but the saddle;
that we'll leave till we get a horse for you. Well, all's ready."
Mescal came at his call and, mounting Black Bolly, rode out toward the
cliff wall, with Wolf trotting before her. Hare bestrode Noddle.
August, waving good-bye to his women-folk, started the train of burros
after Mescal.
How they would be able to climb the face of that steep cliff puzzled
Hare. Upon nearer view he discovered the yard-wide trail curving upward
in cork-screw fashion round a projecting corner of cliff. The stone was
a soft red shale, and the trail had been cut in it at a steep angle. It
was so steep that the burros appeared to be climbing straight up. Noddle
pattered into it, dropped his head and his long ears and slackened his
pace to patient plodding. August walked in the rear.
The first thing that struck
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