Part 33 (1/2)
There were places where we made half circuit out from the grade and abandoned it entirely. In this way we escaped the dust, the rough talk, and the temptations; now and again obtained a modic.u.m of forage in the shape of coa.r.s.e weedy gra.s.ses at the borders of sinks.
But it was a cruel country on men and beasts. Our teamsters who had been through by the Overland Trail said that the Bitter Creek desert was yet worse: drier, barer, dustier and uglier. Nevertheless this was our daily program:
To rise after a s.h.i.+very night, into the crisp dawn which once or twice glinted upon a film of ice formed in the water buckets; to herd the stiffened animals and place them convenient; to swallow our hot coffee and our pork and beans, and flapjacks when the cooks were in the humor; to hook the teams to the wagons and break corral, and amidst cracking of lashes stretch out into column, then to lurch and groan onward, at snail's pace, through the constantly increasing day until soon we also were wrung and parched by a relentless heat succeeding the frosty night.
The sleeping beauties of the realm were ever farther removed. In the distances they awaited, luring with promise of magic-invested azure battlements, languid reds and yellows like tapestry, and patches of liquid blue and dazzling snowy white, canopied by a soft, luxurious sky. But when we arrived, near spent, the battlements were only isolated sandstone outcrops inhabited by rattlesnakes, the reds and yellows were sun-baked soil as hard, the liquid blue was poisonous, stagnant sinks, the snow patches were soda and bitter alkali, the luxurious sky was the same old white-hot dome, reflecting the blazing sun upon the fuming earth.
Then at sunset we made corral; against theft, when near the grade; against Indians and pillage when out from the grade, with the animals under herd guard. There were fires, there was singing at the Mormon camp, there was the heavy sleep beneath blanket and buffalo robe, through the biting chill of a breezeless night, the ground a welcomed bed, the stars vigilant from horizon to horizon, the wolves stalking and bickering like avid ghouls.
So we dulled to the falsity of the desert and the drudgery of the trail; and as the grading camps became less frequent the men grew riper for any diversion. That My Lady and Daniel and I were to furnish it seemed to be generally accepted. Here were the time-old elements: two men, one woman--elements so const.i.tuted that in other situation they might have brought comedy but upon such a trail must and should p.r.o.nounce for tragedy, at least for true melodrama.
Besides, I was expected to uphold the honor of our Gentile mess along with my own honor. That was demanded; ever offered in cajolery to encourage my pistol practice. I was, in short, ”elected,” by an obsession equal to a conviction; and what with her insistently obtruded as a bonus I never was permitted to lose sight of the ghastly prize of skill added to merit.
At first the matter had disturbed and horrified me mightily, to the extent that I antic.i.p.ated evading the issue while preparing against it. Surely this was the current of a prankish dream. And dreams I had--frightfully tumultuous dreams, of red anger and redder blood, sometimes my own blood, sometimes another's; dreams from which I awakened drenched in cold nightmare sweat.
To be infused, even by bunk.u.m and banter, with the idea of killing, is a sad overthrow of sane balance. I would not have conceived the thing possible to me a month back. But the monotonous desert trail, the close companying with virile, open minds, and the strict insistence upon individual rights--yes, and the irritation of the same faces, the same figures, the same fare, the same labor, the same scant recreations, all worked as poison, to depress and fret and stimulate like alternant chills and fever.
Practice I did, if only in friendly emulation of the others, as a pa.s.s-the-time. I improved a little in drawing easily and firing snap-shot.
The art was good to know, bad to depend upon. In the beginnings it worried me as a sleight-of-hand, until I saw that it was the established code and that Daniel himself looked to no other.
In fact, he p.r.i.c.ked me on, not so much by word as by manner, which was worse. Since that evening when, in the approving parlance of my friends, I had ”cut him out” by walking with her to the Adams fire, we had exchanged scarcely a word; he ruffled about at his end of the train and mainly in his own precincts, and I held myself in leash at mine, with self-consciousness most annoying to me.
But his manner, his manner--by swagger and covert sneer and ostentatious triumph of alleged possession emanating an unwearied challenge to my manhood. My revolver practice, I might mark, moved him to shrugs and flings; when he hulked by me he did so with a stare and a boastful grin, but without other response to my attempted ”Howdy?”; now and again he a.s.siduously cleaned his gun, sitting out where I should see even if I did not straightway look; in this he was most faithful, with sundry flourishes babying me by thinking to intimidate.
Withal he gave me never excuse of ending him or placating him, but s.h.i.+fted upon me the burden of choosing time and spot.
Once, indeed, we near had it. That was on an early morning. He was driving in a yoke of oxen that had strayed, and he stopped short in pa.s.sing where I was busied with gathering our mules.
”Say, Mister, I want a word with yu,” he demanded.
”Well, out with it,” I bade; and my heart began to thump. Possibly I paled, I know that I blinked, the sun being in my eyes.
He laughed, and spat over his shoulder, from the saddle.
”Needn't be skeered. I ain't goin' to hurt ye. I 'laow yu expected to make up to that woman, didn't yu, 'fore this?”
”What woman?” I encouraged; but I was wondering if my revolver was loose.
”Edna. 'Cause if yu did, 'tain't no use, Mister. Why,” indulgently, ”yu couldn't marry her--yu couldn't marry her no more'n yu could kill me.
Yu're a Gentile, an' yu'd be bustin' yore own laws. But thar ain't no Gentile laws for the Lord's an'inted; so I thought I'd tell yu I'm liable to marry her myself. Yu've kep' away from her consider'ble; this is to tell yu yu mought as well keep keepin' away.”
”I sha'n't discuss Mrs. Montoyo with you, sir,” I broke, cold, instead of hot, watching him very narrowly (as I had been taught to do), my hand nerved for the inevitable dart. ”But I am her friend--her friend, mind you; and if she is in danger of being imposed upon by you, I stand ready to protect her. For I want you to know that I'm not afraid of you, day or night. Why, you low dog----!” and I choked, itching for the crisis.
He gawked, reddening; his right hand quivered; and to my chagrin he slowly laughed, scanning me.
”I seen yu practicin'. Go ahead. I wouldn't kill yu _naow_. Or if yu want practice in 'arnest, start to draw.” He waited a moment, in easy insolence. I did not draw. ”Let yore dander cool. Thar's no use yu tryin'
to buck the Mormons. I've warned ye.” And he pa.s.sed on, cracking his lash.
Suddenly I was aware that, as seemed, every eye in the camp had been fastened upon us two. My fingers shook while with show of nonchalance I resumed adjusting the halters.