notes by flood and field-第2章

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doors。　　Whar's　the　papers　for　it？　　Was　it　grants？　　Mighty　fine

grantsmost　of　'em　made　arter　the　'Merrikans　got　possession。　　More

fools　the　'Merrikans　for　lettin'　'em　hold　'em。　　Wat　paid　for　'em？

'Merrikan　and　blood　money。



〃Didn't　they　oughter　have　suthin'　out　of　their　native　country？　　Wot

for？　　Did　they　ever　improve？　　Got　a　lot　of　yaller…skinned　diggers；

not　so　sensible　as　niggers　to　look　arter　stock；　and　they　a　sittin'

home　and　smokin'。　　With　their　gold　and　silver　candlesticks；　and

missions；　and　crucifixens；　priests　and　graven　idols；　and　sich？

Them　sort　things　wurent　allowed　in　Mizzoori。〃



At　the　mention　of　improvements；　I　involuntarily　lifted　my　eyes；　and

met　the　half　laughing；　half　embarrassed　look　of　George。　　The　act

did　not　escape　detection；　and　I　had　at　once　the　satisfaction　of

seeing　that　the　rest　of　the　family　had　formed　an　offensive　alliance

against　us。



〃It　was　agin　Nater；　and　agin　God；〃　added　Tryan。　　〃God　never

intended　gold　in　the　rocks　to　be　made　into　heathen　candlesticks　and

crucifixens。　　That's　why　he　sent　'Merrikans　here。　　Nater　never

intended　such　a　climate　for　lazy　lopers。　　She　never　gin　six　months'

sunshine　to　be　slept　and　smoked　away。〃



How　long　he　continued　and　with　what　further　illustration　I　could

not　say；　for　I　took　an　early　opportunity　to　escape　to　the　sitting…

room。　　I　was　soon　followed　by　George；　who　called　me　to　an　open　door

leading　to　a　smaller　room；　and　pointed　to　a　bed。



〃You'd　better　sleep　there　tonight；〃　he　said；　〃you'll　be　more

comfortable；　and　I'll　call　you　early。〃



I　thanked　him；　and　would　have　asked　him　several　questions　which

were　then　troubling　me；　but　he　shyly　slipped　to　the　door　and

vanished。



A　shadow　seemed　to　fall　on　the　room　when　he　had　gone。　　The　〃boys〃

returned；　one　by　one；　and　shuffled　to　their　old　places。　　A　larger

log　was　thrown　on　the　fire；　and　the　huge　chimney　glowed　like　a

furnace；　but　it　did　not　seem　to　melt　or　subdue　a　single　line　of　the

hard　faces　that　it　lit。　　In　half　an　hour　later；　the　furs　which　had

served　as　chairs　by　day　undertook　the　nightly　office　of　mattresses；

and　each　received　its　owner's　full…length　figure。　　Mr。　Tryan　had

not　returned；　and　I　missed　George。　　I　sat　there　until；　wakeful　and

nervous；　I　saw　the　fire　fall　and　shadows　mount　the　wall。　　There　was

no　sound　but　the　rushing　of　the　wind　and　the　snoring　of　the

sleepers。　　At　last；　feeling　the　place　insupportable；　I　seized　my

hat　and　opening　the　door；　ran　out　briskly　into　the　night。



The　acceleration　of　my　torpid　pulse　in　the　keen　fight　with　the

wind；　whose　violence　was　almost　equal　to　that　of　a　tornado；　and　the

familiar　faces　of　the　bright　stars　above　me；　I　felt　as　a　blessed

relief。　　I　ran　not　knowing　whither；　and　when　I　halted；　the　square

outline　of　the　house　was　lost　in　the　alder　bushes。　　An

uninterrupted　plain　stretched　before　me；　like　a　vast　sea　beaten

flat　by　the　force　of　the　gale。　　As　I　kept　on　I　noticed　a　slight

elevation　toward　the　horizon；　and　presently　my　progress　was　impeded

by　the　ascent　of　an　Indian　mound。　　It　struck　me　forcibly　as

resembling　an　island　in　the　sea。　　Its　height　gave　me　a　better　view

of　the　expanding　plain。　　But　even　here　I　found　no　rest。　　The

ridiculous　interpretation　Tryan　had　given　the　climate　was　somehow

sung　in　my　ears；　and　echoed　in　my　throbbing　pulse　as；　guided　by　the

star；　I　sought　the　house　again。



But　I　felt　fresher　and　more　natural　as　I　stepped　upon　the　platform。

The　door　of　the　lower　building　was　open；　and　the　old　man　was

sitting　beside　the　table；　thumbing　the　leaves　of　a　Bible　with　a

look　in　his　face　as　though　he　were　hunting　up　prophecies　against

the　〃Greaser。〃　　I　turned　to　enter；　but　my　attention　was　attracted

by　a　blanketed　figure　lying　beside　the　house；　on　the　platform。　　The

broad　chest　heaving　with　healthy　slumber；　and　the　open；　honest　face

were　familiar。　　It　was　George；　who　had　given　up　his　bed　to　the

stranger　among　his　people。　　I　was　about　to　wake　him；　but　he　lay　so

peaceful　and　quiet；　I　felt　awed　and　hushed。　　And　I　went　to　bed　with

a　pleasant　impression　of　his　handsome　face　and　tranquil　figure

soothing　me　to　sleep。





I　was　awakened　the　next　morning　from　a　sense　of　lulled　repose　and

grateful　silence　by　the　cheery　voice　of　George；　who　stood　beside　my

bed；　ostentatiously　twirling　a　riata；　as　if　to　recall　the　duties　of

the　day　to　my　sleep…bewildered　eyes。　　I　looked　around　me。　　The　wind

had　been　magically　laid；　and　the　sun　shone　warmly　through　the

windows。　　A　dash　of　cold　water；　with　an　extra　chill　on　from　the　tin

basin；　helped　to　brighten　me。　　It　was　still　early；　but　the　family

had　already　breakfasted　and　dispersed；　and　a　wagon　winding　far　in

the　distance　showed　that　the　unfortunate　Tom　had　already　〃packed〃

his　relatives　away。　　I　felt　more　cheerfulthere　are　few　troubles

Youth　cannot　distance　with　the　start　of　a　good　night's　rest。　　After

a　substantial　breakfast；　prepared　by　George；　in　a　few　moments　we

were　mounted　and　dashing　down　the　plain。



We　followed　the　line　of　alder　that　defined　the　creek；　now　dry　and

baked　with　summer's　heat；　but　which　in　winter；　George　told　me；

overflowed　its　banks。　　I　still　retain　a　vivid　impression　of　that

morning's　ride；　the　far…off　mountains；　like　silhouettes；　against

the　steel…blue　sky；　the　crisp　dry　air；　and　the　expanding　track

before　me；　animated　often　by　the　well…knit　figure　of　George　Tryan；

musical　with　jingling　spurs　and　picturesque　with　flying　riata。　　He

rode　powerful　native　roan；　wild…eyed；　untiring　in　stride　and

unbroken　in　nature。　　Alas！　the　curves　of　beauty　were　concealed　by

the　cumbrous　MACHILLAS　of　the　Spanish　saddle；　which　levels　all

equine　distinctions。　　The　single　rein　lay　loosely　on　the　cruel　bit

that　can　gripe；　and　if　need　be；　crush　the　jaw　it　controls。



Again　the　illimitable　freedom　of　the　valley　rises　before　me；　as　we

again　bear　down　into　sunlit　space。　　Can　this　be　〃Chu　Chu；〃　staid

and　respectable　filly　of　American　pedigreeChu　Chu；　forgetful　of

plank　roads　and　cobblestones；　wild　with　excitement；　twinkling　her

small　white　feet　beneath　me？　　George　laughs　out　of　a　cloud　of　dust。

〃Give　her　her　head；　don't　you　see　she　likes　it？〃　and　Chu　Chu　seems

to　like　it；　and　whether　bitten　by　native　tarantula　into　native

barbarism　or　emulous　of　the　roan；　〃blood〃　asserts　itself；　and　in　a

moment　the　peaceful　servitude　of　years　is　beaten　out　in　the　music

of　her　clattering　hoofs。　　The　creek　widens　to　a　deep　gully。　　We

dive　into　it　and　up　on　the　opposite　side；　carrying　a　moving　cloud

of　impalpable　powder　with　us。　　Cattle　are　scattered　over　the　plain；

grazing　quietly　or　banded　together　in　vast　restless　herds。　　George

makes　a　wide；　indefinite　sweep　with　the　riata；　as　if　to　include

them　all　in　his　vaquero's　loop；　and　says；　〃Ours！〃



〃About　how　many；　George？〃



〃Don't　know。〃



〃How　many？〃



〃'Well；　p'r'aps　three　thousand　head；〃　says　George；　reflecting。　　〃We

don't　know；　takes　five　men　to　look　'em　up　and　keep　run。〃



〃What　are　they　worth？〃



〃About　thirty　dollars　a　head。〃



I　make　a　rapid　calculation；　and　look　my　astonishment　at　the

laughing　George。　　Perhaps　a　recollection　of　the　domestic　economy　of

the　Tryan　household　is　expressed　in　that　look；　for　George　averts

his　eye　and　says；　apologetically：



〃I've　tried　to　get　the　old　man　to　sell　and　build；　but　you　know　he

says　it　ain't　no　use　to　settle　down；　just　yet。　　We　must　keep

movin'。　　In　fact；　he　built　the　shanty　for　that　purpose；　lest　titles

should　fall　through；　and　we'd　have　to　get　up　and　move　stakes

further　down。〃



Suddenly　his　quick　eye　detects　some　unusual　sight　in　a　herd　we　are

passing；　and　with　an　exclamation　he　puts　his　roan　into　the　center

of　the　mass。　　I　follow；　or　rather　Chu　Chu　darts　after　the　roan；　and

in　a　few　moments　we　are　in　the　midst　of　apparently　inextricable

horns　and　hoofs。　　〃TORO！〃　shouts　George；　with　vaquero　enthusiasm；

and　the　band　opens　a　way　for　the　swinging　riata。　　I　can　feel　their

steaming　breaths；　and　their　spume　is　cast　on　Chu　Chu's　quivering

flank。



Wild；　devilish…looking　beasts　are　they；　not　such　shapes　as　Jove

might　have　chosen　to　woo　a　goddess；　nor　such　as　peacefully　range

the　downs　of　Devon；　but　lean　and　hungry　Cassius…like　bovines；

economically　got　up　to　meet　the　exigencies　of　a　six　months'

rainless　climate；　and　accustomed　to　wrestle　with　the　distracting

wind　and　the　blinding　dust。



〃That's　not　our　brand；〃　says　George；　〃they're　strange　stock；〃　and

he　points　to　what　my　scientific　eye　recognizes　as　the　astrological

sign　of　Venus　deeply　seared　in　the　brown　flanks　of　the　bull　he　is

chasing。　　But　the　herd　are　closing　round　us　with　low　mutterings；

and　George　has　again　recourse　to　the　authoritative　〃TORO；〃　and　with

swinging　riata　divides　the　〃bossy　bucklers〃　on　either　side。　　When

we　are　free；　and　breathing　somewhat　more　easily；　I　venture　to　ask

George　if　they　ever　attack　anyone。



〃Never　horsemensometimes　footmen。　　Not　through　rage；　you　know；

but　curiosity。　　They　think　a　man　and　his　horse　are　one；　and　if　they

meet　a　chap　afoot；　they　run　him　down　and　trample　him　under　hoof；　in

the　pursuit　of　knowledge。　　But；〃　adds　George；　〃here's　the　lower

bench　of　the　foothills；　and　here's　Altascar's　corral；　and　that

White　building　you　see　yonder　is　the　casa。〃



A　whitewashed　wall　enclosed　a　court　containing　another　adobe

building；　baked　with　the　solar　beams　of　many　summers。　　Leaving　our

horses　in　the　charge　of　a　few　peons　in　the　courtyard；　who　were

basking　lazily　in　the　sun；　we　entered　a　low　doorway；　where　a　deep

shadow　and　an　agreeable　coolness　fell　upon　us；　as　sudden　and

grateful　as　a　plunge　in　cool　water；　from　its　contrast　with　the

external　glare　and　heat。　　In　the　center　of　a　low…ceiled　apartment

sat　an　old　man　with　a　black…silk　handkerchief　tied　about　his　head；

the　few　gray　hairs　that　escaped　from　its　folds　relieving　his

gamboge…colored　face。　　The　odor　of　CIGARRITOS　was　as　incense　added

to　the　cathedral　gloom　of　the　building。



As　Senor　Altascar　rose　with　well…bred　gravity　to　receive　us；　George

advanced　with　such　a　heightened　color；　and　such　a　blending　of

tenderness　and　respect　in　his　manner；　that　I　was　touched　to　the

heart　by　so　much　devotion　in　the　careless　youth。　　In　fact；　my　eyes

were　still　dazzled　by　the　effect　of　the　outer　sunshine；　and　at

first　I　did　not　see　the　white　teeth　and　black　eyes　of　Pepita；　who

slipped　into　the　corridor　as　we　entered。



It　was　no　pleasant　matter　to　disclose　particulars　of　business　which

would　deprive　the　old　senor　of　the　greater　part　of　that　land　we　had

just　ridden　over；　and　I　did　it　with　great　embarrassment。　　But　he

listened　calmlynot　a　muscle　of　his　dark　face　stirringand　the

smoke　curling　placidly　from　his　lips　showed　his　regular

respiration。　　When　I　had　finished；　he　offered　quietly　to　accompany

us　to　the　line　of　demarcation。　　George　had　meanwhile　disappeared；

but　a　suspicious　conversation　in　broken　Spanish　and　English；　in　the

corridor；　betrayed　his　vicinity。　　When　he　return