第 3 节
作者:
辛苦 更新:2024-09-08 23:53 字数:9322
on reaching it he found that it was only a tangle of taller
mesquite grass; into which he sank with his burden。 Nevertheless;
if useless as a point of vantage; it offered a soft couch for Susy;
who seemed to have fallen quite naturally into her usual afternoon
siesta; and in a measure it shielded her from a cold breeze that
had sprung up from the west。 Utterly exhausted himself; but not
daring to yield to the torpor that seemed to be creeping over him;
Clarence half sat; half knelt down beside her; supporting himself
with one hand; and; partly hidden in the long grass; kept his
straining eyes fixed on the lonely track。
The red disk was sinking lower。 It seemed to have already crumbled
away a part of the distance with its eating fires。 As it sank
still lower; it shot out long; luminous rays; diverging fan…like
across the plain; as if; in the boy's excited fancy; it too were
searching for the lost estrays。 And as one long beam seemed to
linger over his hiding…place; he even thought that it might serve
as a guide to Silsbee and the other seekers; and was constrained to
stagger to his feet; erect in its light。 But it soon sank; and
with it Clarence dropped back again to his crouching watch。 Yet he
knew that the daylight was still good for an hour; and with the
withdrawal of that mystic sunset glory objects became even more
distinct and sharply defined than at any other time。 And with the
merciful sheathing of that flaming sword which seemed to have
swayed between him and the vanished train; his eyes already felt a
blessed relief。
CHAPTER III
With the setting of the sun an ominous silence fell。 He could hear
the low breathing of Susy; and even fancied he could hear the
beating of his own heart in that oppressive hush of all nature。
For the day's march had always been accompanied by the monotonous
creaking of wheels and axles; and even the quiet of the night
encampment had been always more or less broken by the movement of
unquiet sleepers on the wagon beds; or the breathing of the cattle。
But here there was neither sound nor motion。 Susy's prattle; and
even the sound of his own voice; would have broken the benumbing
spell; but it was a part of his growing self…denial now that he
refrained from waking her even by a whisper。 She would awaken soon
enough to thirst and hunger; perhaps; and then what was he to do?
If that looked…for help would only come nowwhile she still slept。
For it was part of his boyish fancy that if he could deliver her
asleep and undemonstrative of fear and suffering; he would be less
blameful; and she less mindful of her trouble。 If it did not come
but he would not think of that yet! If she was thirsty meantime
well; it might rain; and there was always the dew which they used
to brush off the morning grass; he would take off his shirt and
catch it in that; like a shipwrecked mariner。 It would be funny;
and make her laugh。 For himself he would not laugh; he felt he was
getting very old and grown up in this loneliness。
It was getting darkerthey should be looking into the wagons now。
A new doubt began to assail him。 Ought he not; now that he was
rested; make the most of the remaining moments of daylight; and
before the glow faded from the west; when he would no longer have
any bearings to guide him? But there was always the risk of waking
her!to what? The fear of being confronted again with HER fear
and of being unable to pacify her; at last decided him to remain。
But he crept softly through the grass; and in the dust of the track
traced the four points of the compass; as he could still determine
them by the sunset light; with a large printed W to indicate the
west! This boyish contrivance particularly pleased him。 If he had
only had a pole; a stick; or even a twig; on which to tie his
handkerchief and erect it above the clump of mesquite as a signal
to the searchers in case they should be overcome by fatigue or
sleep; he would have been happy。 But the plain was barren of brush
or timber; he did not dream that this omission and the very
unobtrusiveness of his hiding…place would be his salvation from a
greater danger。
With the coming darkness the wind arose and swept the plain with a
long…drawn sigh。 This increased to a murmur; till presently the
whole expansebefore sunk in awful silenceseemed to awake with
vague complaints; incessant sounds; and low moanings。 At times he
thought he heard the halloaing of distant voices; at times it
seemed as a whisper in his own ear。 In the silence that followed
each blast he fancied he could detect the creaking of the wagon;
the dull thud of the oxen's hoofs; or broken fragments of speech;
blown and scattered even as he strained his ears to listen by the
next gust。 This tension of the ear began to confuse his brain; as
his eyes had been previously dazzled by the sunlight; and a strange
torpor began to steal over his faculties。 Once or twice his head
dropped。
He awoke with a start。 A moving figure had suddenly uplifted
itself between him and the horizon! It was not twenty yards away;
so clearly outlined against the still luminous sky that it seemed
even nearer。 A human figure; but so disheveled; so fantastic; and
yet so mean and puerile in its extravagance; that it seemed the
outcome of a childish dream。 It was a mounted figure; but so
ludicrously disproportionate to the pony it bestrode; whose slim
legs were stiffly buried in the dust in a breathless halt; that it
might have been a straggler from some vulgar wandering circus。 A
tall hat; crownless and rimless; a castaway of civilization;
surmounted by a turkey's feather; was on its head; over its
shoulders hung a dirty tattered blanket that scarcely covered the
two painted legs which seemed clothed in soiled yellow hose。 In
one hand it held a gun; the other was bent above its eyes in eager
scrutiny of some distant point beyond and east of the spot where
the children lay concealed。 Presently; with a dozen quick
noiseless strides of the pony's legs; the apparition moved to the
right; its gaze still fixed on that mysterious part of the horizon。
There was no mistaking it now! The painted Hebraic face; the large
curved nose; the bony cheek; the broad mouth; the shadowed eyes;
the straight long matted locks! It was an Indian! Not the
picturesque creature of Clarence's imagination; but still an
Indian! The boy was uneasy; suspicious; antagonistic; but not
afraid。 He looked at the heavy animal face with the superiority of
intelligence; at the half…naked figure with the conscious supremacy
of dress; at the lower individuality with the contempt of a higher
race。 Yet a moment after; when the figure wheeled and disappeared
towards the undulating west; a strange chill crept over him。 Yet
he did not know that in this puerile phantom and painted pigmy the
awful majesty of Death had passed him by。
〃Mamma!〃
It was Susy's voice; struggling into consciousness。 Perhaps she
had been instinctively conscious of the boy's sudden fears。
〃Hush!〃
He had just turned to the objective point of the Indian's gaze。
There WAS something! A dark line was moving along with the
gathering darkness。 For a moment he hardly dared to voice his
thoughts even to himself。 It was a following train overtaking them
from the rear! And from the rapidity of its movements a train with
horses; hurrying forward to evening camp。 He had never dreamt of
help from that quarter。 This was what the Indian's keen eyes had
been watching; and why he had so precipitately fled。
The strange train was now coming up at a round trot。 It was
evidently well appointed with five or six large wagons and several
outriders。 In half an hour it would be here。 Yet he refrained
from waking Susy; who had fallen asleep again; his old superstition
of securing her safety first being still uppermost。 He took off
his jacket to cover her shoulders; and rearranged her nest。 Then
he glanced again at the coming train。 But for some unaccountable
reason it had changed its direction; and instead of following the
track that should have brought it to his side it had turned off to
the left! In ten minutes it would pass abreast of him a mile and a
half away! If he woke Susy now; he knew she would be helpless in
her terror; and he could not carry her half that distance。 He
might rush to the train himself and return with help; but he would
never leave her alonein the darkness。 Never! If she woke she
would die of fright; perhaps; or wander blindly and aimlessly away。
No! The train would pass and with it that hope of rescue。
Something was in his throat; but he gulped it down and was quiet
again albeit he shivered in the night wind。
The train was nearly abreast of him now。 He ran out of the tall
grass; waving his straw hat above his head in the faint hope of
attracting attention。 But he did not go far; for he found to his
alarm that when he turned back again the clump of mesquite was
scarcely distinguishable from the rest of the plain。 This settled
all question of his going。 Even if he reached the train and
returned with some one; how would he ever find her again in this
desolate expanse?
He watched the train