notes by flood and field-第5节

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night。　　I　heard　'em　first　in　the　creek；　when　they　came　to　tell　the

old　man　to　move　farther　off。　　They　came　nearer　and　nearer。　　They

whispered　under　the　door；　and　I　saw　their　eyes　on　the　steptheir

cruel；　hard　eyes。　　Ah；　why　don't　they　quit？〃



I　tell　the　men　to　search　the　room　and　see　if　they　can　find　any

further　traces　of　the　family；　while　Tryan　resumes　his　old　attitude。

It　is　so　much　like　the　figure　I　remember　on　the　breezy　night　that　a

superstitious　feeling　is　fast　overcoming　me。　　When　they　have

returned；　I　tell　them　briefly　what　I　know　of　him；　and　the　old　man

murmurs　again：



〃Why　don't　they　quit；　then？　　They　have　the　stockall　gonegone；

gone　for　the　hides　and　hoofs；〃　and　he　groans　bitterly。



〃There　are　other　boats　below　us。　　The　shanty　cannot　have　drifted

far；　and　perhaps　the　family　are　safe　by　this　time；〃　says　the

coxswain；　hopefully。



We　lift　the　old　man　up；　for　he　is　quite　helpless；　and　carry　him　to

the　boat。　　He　is　still　grasping　the　Bible　in　his　right　hand；　though

its　strengthening　grace　is　blank　to　his　vacant　eye；　and　he　cowers

in　the　stern　as　we　pull　slowly　to　the　steamer　while　a　pale　gleam　in

the　sky　shows　the　coming　day。



I　was　weary　with　excitement；　and　when　we　reached　the　steamer；　and　I

had　seen　Joseph　Tryan　comfortably　bestowed；　I　wrapped　myself　in　a

blanket　near　the　boiler　and　presently　fell　asleep。　　But　even　then

the　figure　of　the　old　man　often　started　before　me；　and　a　sense　of

uneasiness　about　George　made　a　strong　undercurrent　to　my　drifting

dreams。　　I　was　awakened　at　about　eight　o'clock　in　the　morning　by

the　engineer；　who　told　me　one　of　the　old　man's　sons　had　been　picked

up　and　was　now　on　board。



〃Is　it　George　Tryan？〃　I　ask　quickly。



〃Don't　know；　but　he's　a　sweet　one；　whoever　he　is；〃　adds　the

engineer；　with　a　smile　at　some　luscious　remembrance。　　〃You'll　find

him　for'ard。〃



I　hurry　to　the　bow　of　the　boat；　and　find；　not　George；　but　the

irrepressible　Wise；　sitting　on　a　coil　of　rope；　a　little　dirtier　and

rather　more　dilapidated　than　I　can　remember　having　seen　him。



He　is　examining；　with　apparent　admiration；　some　rough；　dry　clothes

that　have　been　put　out　for　his　disposal。　　I　cannot　help　thinking

that　circumstances　have　somewhat　exalted　his　usual　cheerfulness。

He　puts　me　at　my　ease　by　at　once　addressing　me：



〃These　are　high　old　times；　ain't　they？　　I　say；　what　do　you　reckon's

become　o'　them　thar　bound'ry　moniments　you　stuck？　　Ah！〃



The　pause　which　succeeds　this　outburst　is　the　effect　of　a　spasm　of

admiration　at　a　pair　of　high　boots；　which；　by　great　exertion；　he

has　at　last　pulled　on　his　feet。



〃So　you've　picked　up　the　ole　man　in　the　shanty；　clean　crazy？　　He

must　have　been　soft　to　have　stuck　there　instead　o'　leavin'　with　the

old　woman。　　Didn't　know　me　from　Adam；　took　me　for　George！〃



At　this　affecting　instance　of　paternal　forgetfulness；　Wise　was

evidently　divided　between　amusement　and　chagrin。　　I　took　advantage

of　the　contending　emotions　to　ask　about　George。



〃Don't　know　whar　he　is！　　If　he'd　tended　stock　instead　of　running

about　the　prairie；　packin'　off　wimmin　and　children；　he　might　have

saved　suthin。　　He　lost　every　hoof　and　hide；　I'll　bet　a　cooky！　　Say

you；〃　to　a　passing　boatman；　〃when　are　you　goin'　to　give　us　some

grub？　　I'm　hungry　'nough　to　skin　and　eat　a　hoss。　　Reckon　I'll　turn

butcher　when　things　is　dried　up；　and　save　hides；　horns；　and

taller。〃



I　could　not　but　admire　this　indomitable　energy；　which　under　softer

climatic　influences　might　have　borne　such　goodly　fruit。



〃Have　you　any　idea　what　you'll　do；　Wise？〃　I　ask。



〃Thar　ain't　much　to　do　now；〃　says　the　practical　young　man。　　〃I'll

have　to　lay　over　a　spell；　I　reckon；　till　things　comes　straight。

The　land　ain't　worth　much　now；　and　won't　be；　I　dessay；　for　some

time。　　Wonder　whar　the　ole　man'll　drive　stakes　next。〃



〃I　meant　as　to　your　father　and　George；　Wise。〃



〃Oh；　the　old　man　and　I'll　go　on　to　'Miles's；'　whar　Tom　packed　the

old　woman　and　babies　last　week。　　George'll　turn　up　somewhar　atween

this　and　Altascar's　ef　he　ain't　thar　now。〃



I　ask　how　the　Altascars　have　suffered。



〃Well；　I　reckon　he　ain't　lost　much　in　stock。　　I　shouldn't　wonder　if

George　helped　him　drive　'em　up　the　foothills。　　And　his　casa's　built

too　high。　　Oh；　thar　ain't　any　water　thar；　you　bet。　　Ah；〃　says　Wise；

with　reflective　admiration；　〃those　greasers　ain't　the　darned　fools

people　thinks　'em。　　I'll　bet　thar　ain't　one　swamped　out　in　all　'er

Californy。〃　　But　the　appearance　of　〃grub〃　cut　this　rhapsody　short。



〃I　shall　keep　on　a　little　farther；〃　I　say；　〃and　try　to　find

George。〃



Wise　stared　a　moment　at　this　eccentricity　until　a　new　light　dawned

upon　him。



〃I　don't　think　you'll　save　much。　　What's　the　percentageworkin'　on

shares；　eh！〃



I　answer　that　I　am　only　curious；　which　I　feel　lessens　his　opinion

of　me；　and　with　a　sadder　feeling　than　his　assurance　of　George's

safety　might　warrant；　I　walked　away。



From　others　whom　we　picked　up　from　time　to　time　we　heard　of

George's　self…sacrificing　devotion；　with　the　praises　of　the　many　he

had　helped　and　rescued。　　But　I　did　not　feel　disposed　to　return

until　I　had　seen　him；　and　soon　prepared　myself　to　take　a　boat　to

the　lower　VALDA　of　the　foothills；　and　visit　Altascar。　　I　soon

perfected　my　arrangements；　bade　farewell　to　Wise；　and　took　a　last

look　at　the　old　man；　who　was　sitting　by　the　furnace　fires　quite

passive　and　composed。　　Then　our　boat　head　swung　round；　pulled　by

sturdy　and　willing　hands。



It　was　again　raining；　and　a　disagreeable　wind　had　risen。　　Our

course　lay　nearly　west；　and　we　soon　knew　by　the　strong　current　that

we　were　in　the　creek　of　the　Espiritu　Santo。　　From　time　to　time　the

wrecks　of　barns　were　seen；　and　we　passed　many　half…submerged

willows　hung　with　farming　implements。



We　emerge　at　last　into　a　broad　silent　sea。　　It　is　the　〃LLANO　DE

ESPIRITU　SANTO。〃　　As　the　wind　whistles　by　me；　piling　the　shallower

fresh　water　into　mimic　waves；　I　go　back；　in　fancy；　to　the　long　ride

of　October　over　that　boundless　plain；　and　recall　the　sharp　outlines

of　the　distant　hills；　which　are　now　lost　in　the　lowering　clouds。

The　men　are　rowing　silently；　and　I　find　my　mind；　released　from　its

tension；　growing　benumbed　and　depressed　as　then。　　The　water；　too；

is　getting　more　shallow　as　we　leave　the　banks　of　the　creek；　and

with　my　hand　dipped　listlessly　over　the　thwarts；　I　detect　the　tops

of　chimisal；　which　shows　the　tide　to　have　somewhat　fallen。　　There

is　a　black　mound；　bearing　to　the　north　of　the　line　of　alder；　making

an　adverse　current；　which；　as　we　sweep　to　the　right　to　avoid；　I

recognize。　　We　pull　close　alongside　and　I　call　to　the　men　to　stop。



There　was　a　stake　driven　near　its　summit　with　the　initials；　〃L。　E。

S。　I。〃　　Tied　halfway　down　was　a　curiously　worked　riata。　　It　was

George's。　　It　had　been　cut　with　some　sharp　instrument；　and　the

loose　gravelly　soil　of　the　mound　was　deeply　dented　with　horses'

hoofs。　　The　stake　was　covered　with　horsehairs。　　It　was　a　record；

but　no　clue。



The　wind　had　grown　more　violent　as　we　still　fought　our　way　forward；

resting　and　rowing　by　turns；　and　oftener　〃poling〃　the　shallower

surface；　but　the　old　VALDA；　or　bench；　is　still　distant。　　My

recollection　of　the　old　survey　enables　me　to　guess　the　relative

position　of　the　meanderings　of　the　creek；　and　an　occasional　simple

professional　experiment　to　determine　the　distance　gives　my　crew　the

fullest　faith　in　my　ability。　　Night　overtakes　us　in　our　impeded

progress。　　Our　condition　looks　more　dangerous　than　it　really　is；

but　I　urge　the　men；　many　of　whom　are　still　new　in　this　mode　of

navigation；　to　greater　exertion　by　assurance　of　perfect　safety　and

speedy　relief　ahead。　　We　go　on　in　this　way　until　about　eight

o'clock；　and　ground　by　the　willows。　　We　have　a　muddy　walk　for　a　few

hundred　yards　before　we　strike　a　dry　trail；　and　simultaneously　the

white　walls　of　Altascar's　appear　like　a　snowbank　before　us。　　Lights

are　moving　in　the　courtyard；　but　otherwise　the　old　tomblike　repose

characterizes　the　building。



One　of　the　peons　recognized　me　as　I　entered　the　court；　and　Altascar

met　me　on　the　corridor。



I　was　too　weak　to　do　more　than　beg　his　hospitality　for　the　men　who

had　dragged　wearily　with　me。　　He　looked　at　my　hand；　which　still

unconsciously　held　the　broken　riata。　　I　began；　wearily；　to　tell　him

about　George　and　my　fears；　but　with　a　gentler　courtesy　than　was

even　his　wont；　he　gravely　laid　his　hand　on　my　shoulder。



〃POCO　A　POCO；　senornot　now。　　You　are　tired；　you　have　hunger；　you

have　cold。　　Necessary　it　is　you　should　have　peace。〃



He　took　us　into　a　small　room　and　poured　out　some　French　cognac；

which　he　gave　to　the　men　that　had　accompanied　me。　　They　drank　and

threw　themselves　before　the　fire　in　the　larger　room。　　The　repose　of

the　building　was　intensified　that　night；　and　I　even　fancied　that

the　footsteps　on　the　corridor　were　lighter　and　softer。　　The　old

Spaniard's　habitual　gravity　was　deeper；　we　might　have　been