Desert Dust

by Edwin L. Sabin

  CHAPTER XIV

  I TAKE A LESSON

  From this hour's brief camp, early made, we should have turned southward,to leave the railroad line and cross country for the Overland Stage trailthat skirted the southern edge of the worse desert before us. But CaptainHyrum was of different mind. With faith in the Lord and bull confidence inhimself he had resolved to keep straight on by the teamster road whichthrough league after league ever extended fed supplies to the advance ofthe builders.

  Under its adventitious guidance we should strike the stage road at BitterCreek, eighty or one hundred miles; thence trundle, veering southwestward,for the famed City of the Saints, near two hundred miles farther.

  Therefore after nooning at a pool of stagnant, scummy water we hooked upand plunged ahead, creaking and groaning and dust enveloped, constantlyoutstripped by the hurrying construction trains thundering over the newlylaid rails, we ourselves the tortoise in the race.

  My Lady did not join me again to-day, nor on the morrow. She abandoned meto a sense of dissatisfaction with myself, of foreboding, and of a voidin the landscape.

  Our sorely laden train went swaying and pitching across the gaunt face ofa high, broad plateau, bleak, hot, and monotonous in contour; underfootthe reddish granite pulverized by grinding tire and hoof, over us the palebluish fiery sky without a cloud, distant in the south the shining tips ofa mountain range, and distant below in the west the slowly spreading vistaof a great, bared ocean-bed, simmering bizarre with reds, yellows anddeceptive whites, and ringed about by battlements jagged and rock hewn.

  Into this enchanted realm we were bound; by token of the smoke blotchesthe railroad line led thither. The teamsters viewed the unfolding expansephlegmatically. They called it the Red Basin. But to me, fresh for thesight, it beckoned with fantastic issues. Even the name breathed magic.Wizard spells hovered there; the railroad had not broken them--the carsand locomotives, entering, did not disturb the brooding vastness. A manmight still ride errant into those slumberous spaces and discover forhimself; might boldly awaken the realm and rule with a princess by hisside.

  But romance seemed to have no other sponsor in this plodding,whip-cracking, complaining caravan. So I lacked, woefully lacked, kindredcompanionship.

  Free to say, I did miss My Lady, perched upon the stoic mule while likean Arab chief I convoyed her. The steady miles, I admitted, were going tobe as disappointing as tepid water, when not aerated by her counsel andpiquant allusions, by her sprightly readiness and the essential elementsof her blue eyes, her facile lips, and that bright hair which no dustcould dim.

  After all she was distinctly feminine--bravely feminine; and if she wishedto flirt as a relief from the cock-sure Daniel and the calm methods of herMormon guardians, why, let us beguile the way. I should second with eyesopen. That was accepted.

  Moreover, something about her weighed upon me. A consciousness of failingher, a woman, in emergency, stung my self-respect. She had twitted me withbeing "afraid"; afraid of her, she probably meant. That I could passwarily. But she had said that she, too, was afraid: "horribly afraid," andan honest shudder had attended upon the words as if a real danger hedged.She had an intuition. The settled convictions of my Gentile friendscoincided. "With Daniel in the Lion's den"--that phrase repeated itselfpersistent. She had uttered it in a fear accentuated by a mirthless laugh.Could such a left-handed wooer prove too much for her? Well, if she wasafraid of Daniel I was not and she should not think so.

  I could see her now and then, on before. She rode upon the wagon seat ofher self-appointed executor. And I might see him and his paradedimpertinences.

  Except for the blowing of the animals and the mechanical noises of theequipment the train subsided into a dogged patience, while parched by thedust and the thin dry air and mocked by the speeding construction crewsupon the iron rails it lurched westward at two and a half miles an hour,for long hours outfaced by the blinding sun.

  Near the western edge of the plateau we made an evening corral. Aftersupper the sound of revolver shots burst flatly from a mess beyond us, andstartled. Everything was possible, here in this lone horizon-land whererough men, chafed by a hard day, were gathered suddenly relaxed and idle.But the shots were accompanied by laughter.

  "They're only tryin' to spile a can," Jenks reassured. "By golly, we'll goover and l'arn 'em a lesson." He glanced at me. "Time you loosened up thatweepon o' yourn, anyhow. Purty soon it'll stick fast."

  I arose with him, glad of any diversion. The circle had not yet formed atHyrum's fire.

  "It strikes me as a useless piece of baggage," said I. "I bought it inBenton but I haven't needed it. I can kill a rattlesnake easier with mywhip."

  "Wall," he drawled, "down in yonder you're liable to meet up with arattler too smart for your whip, account of his freckles. 'Twon't do youno harm to spend a few ca'tridges, so you'll be ready for business."

  The men were banging, by turn, at a sardine can set up on the sand abouttwenty paces out. Their shadows stretched slantwise before them,grotesquely lengthened by the last efforts of the disappearing sun. Someaimed carefully from under pulled-down hat brims; others, their brimsflared back, fired quickly, the instant the gun came to the level. Theheavy balls sent the loose soil flying in thick jets made golden by theevening glow. But amidst the furrows the can sat untouched by the plungingmissiles.

  We were greeted with hearty banter.

  "Hyar's the champeens!"

  "Now they'll show us."

  "Ain't never see that pilgrim unlimber his gun yit, but I reckon he's abad 'un."

  "Jenks, old hoss, cain't you l'an that durned can manners?"

  "I'll try to oblige you, boys," friend Jenks smiled. "What you thinkin' todo: hit that can or plant a lead mine?"

  "Give him room. He's made his brag," they cried. "And if he don't plug itthat pilgrim sure will."

  Mr. Jenks drew and took his stand; banged with small preparation andmissed by six inches--a fact that brought him up wide awake, so to speak,badgered by derision renewed. A person needs must have a bull hide, totravel with a bull train, I saw.

  "Gimme another, boys, and I'll hit it in the nose," he growled sheepishly;but they shoved him aside.

  "No, no. Pilgrim's turn. Fetch on yore shootin'-iron, young feller. Thar'syore turkey. Show us why you're packin' all that hardware."

  Willy-nilly I had to demonstrate my greenness; so in all good nature Idrew, and stood, and cocked, and aimed. The Colt's exploded withprodigious blast and wrench--jerking, in fact, almost above head; andwhere the bullet went I did not see, nor, I judged, did anybody else.

  "He missed the 'arth!" they clamored.

  "No; I reckon he hit Montany 'bout the middle. That's whar he scoredcenter!"

  "Shoot! Shoot!" they begged. "Go ahead. Mebbe you'll kill an Injununbeknownst. They's a pack o' Sioux jest out o' sight behind them hills."

  And I did shoot, vexed; and I struck the ground, this time, some fiftyyards beyond the can. Jenks stepped from amidst the riotous laughter.

  "Hold down on it, hold down, lad," he urged. "To hit him in the heart aimat his feet. Here! Like this----" and taking my revolver he threw itforward, fired, the can plinked and somersaulted, lashed into action toolate.

  "By Gawd," he proclaimed, "when I move like it had a gun in its fist I cansnap it. But when I think on it as a can I lack guts."

  The remark was pat. I had seen several of the men snip the head from arattlesnake with a single offhand shot--yes, they all carried theirweapons easily and wontedly. But the target of an immobile can lacked instimulation to concord of nerve and eye.

  Now I shot again, holding lower and more firmly, out of mere guesswork,and landed appreciably closer although still within the zone of ridicule.And somebody else shot, and somebody else, and another, until we all werewhooping and laughing and jesting, and the jets flew as if from the ballsof a mitrailleuse, and the can rocked and gyrated, spurring us to haste asit constantly changed the range. Presently it was merely a twist of raggedtin. Then in the l
ittle silence, as we paused, a voice spokeirritatingly.

  "I 'laow yu fellers ain't no great shucks at throwin' lead."

  Daniel stood by, with arms akimbo, his booted legs braggartly straddledand his freckled face primed with an intolerant grin at our recentefforts. My Lady had come over with him. Raw-boned, angular, cloddish butas strong as a mule, he towered over her in a maddening atmosphere ofproprietorship.

  She smiled at me--at all of us: at me, swiftly; at them, frankly. And Iknew that she was still afraid.

  "Reckon we don't ask no advice, friend," they answered. Again a constraintenfolded, fastened upon us by an unbidden guest. "Like as not you can dobetter."

  Daniel laughed boisterously, his mouth widely open.

  "I couldn't do wuss. I seen yu poppin' at that can. Hadn't but one hole init till yu all turned loose an' didn't give it no chance. Haw haw! I 'laowfor a short bit I'd stand out in front o' that greenie from the States an'let him empty two guns at me."

  "S'pose you do it," friend Jenks promptly challenged. "By thunder, I'llhire ye with the ten cents, and give him four bits if he hits you."

  "He wouldn't draw on me, nohaow," scoffed Daniel. "I daren't shoot formoney, but I'll shoot for fun. Anybody want to shoot ag'in me?"

  "Wasted powder enough," they grumbled.

  "Ever see me shoot?" He was eager. "I'll show ye somethin'. I don't takeback seat for ary man. Yu set me up a can. That thar one wouldn't jump toa bullet."

  In sullen obedience a can was produced.

  "How fur?"

  "Fur as yu like."

  It was tossed contemptuously out; and watching it, to catch its last roll,I heard Daniel gleefully yelp "Out o' my way, yu-all!"--half saw his handdart down and up again, felt the jar of a shot, witnessed the can jumplike a live thing; and away it went, with spasm after spasm, to explosionafter explosion, tortured by him into fruitless capers until with thefinal ball peace came to it, and it lay dead, afar across the twilightsand.

  Verily, by his cries and the utter savagery and malevolence of hisbombardment, one would have thought that he took actual lust in fanciedcruelty.

  "I 'laow thar's not another man hyar kin do that," he vaunted.

  There was not, judging by the silence again ensuing. Only--

  "A can's a different proposition from a man, as I said afore," Jenkscoolly remarked. "A can don't shoot back."

  "I don't 'laow any man's goin' to, neither." Daniel reloaded his smokingrevolver, bolstered it with a flip; faced me in turning away. "That'ssomethin' for yu to l'arn on, ag'in next time, young feller," hevouchsafed.

  If he would have eyed me down he did not succeed. His gaze shifted and hepassed on, swaggering.

  "Come along, Edna," he bade. "We'll be goin' back."

  A devil--or was it he himself?--twitted me, incited me, and in a moment,with a gush of assertion, there I was, saying to her, my hat doffed:

  "I'll walk over with you."

  "Do," she responded readily. "We're to have more singing."

  The men stared, they nudged one another, grinned. Daniel whirled.

  "I 'laow yu ain't been invited, Mister."

  "If Mrs. Montoyo consents, that's enough," I informed, striving to keepsteady. "I'm not walking with you, sir; I am walking with her. The onlyground you control is just in front of your own wagon."

  "Yu've been told once thar ain't no 'Mrs. Montoyo,'" he snarled. "Andwhilst yu're l'arnin' to shoot yu'd better be l'arnin' manners. Yu comin'with me, Edna?"

  "As fast as I can, and with Mr. Beeson also, if he chooses," said she. "Ihave my manners in mind, too."

  "By gosh, I don't walk with ye," he jawed. And in a huff, like the big boythat he was, he flounced about, vengefully striding on as though punishingher for a misdemeanor.

  She dropped the grinning group a little curtsy. A demure sparkle was inher eyes.

  "The entertainment is concluded, gentlemen. I wish you good-night."

  Yet underneath her raillery and self-possession there lay an appeal, thestronger because subtle and unvoiced. It seemed to me every man mustappreciate that as a woman she invoked protection by him against animpending something, of which she had given him a glimpse.

  So we left them somewhat subdued, gazing after us, their rugged facessobered reflectively.

  "Shall we stroll?" she asked.

  "With pleasure," I agreed.

  Daniel was angrily shouldering for the Mormon wagons, his indignantfigure black against the western glow. She laughed lightly.

  "You're not afraid, after all, I see."

  "Not of him, madam."

  "And of me?"

  "I think I'm more afraid for you," I confessed. "That clown is gettinginsufferable. He sets out to bully you. Damn him," I flashed, withpardonable flame, "and he ruffles at me on every occasion. In fact, heseems to seek occasion. Witness this evening."

  "Witness this evening," she murmured. "I'm afraid, too. Yes," shebreathed, confronted by a portent, "I'm afraid. I never have been afraidbefore. I didn't fear Montoyo. I've always been able to take care ofmyself. But now, here----"

  "You have your revolver?" I suggested.

  "No, I haven't. It's gone. Mormon women don't carry revolvers."

  "They took it from you?"

  "It's disappeared."

  "But you're not a Mormon woman."

  "Not yet." She caught quick breath. "God forbid. And sometimes I fear Godwilling. For I do fear. You can't understand. Those other men do, though,I think. Do you know," she queried, with sudden glance, "that Daniel meansto marry me?"

  "He?" I gasped. "How so? With your--consent, of course. But you're notfree; you have a husband." My gorge rose, regardless of fact. "Youscarcely expect me to congratulate you, madam. Still he may have points."

  "Daniel?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot say. Pedro did. Most menhave. Oh!" she cried, impulsively stopping short. "Why don't you learn toshoot? Won't you?"

  "I've about decided to," I admitted. "That appears to be the savingaccomplishment of everybody out here."

  "Of everybody who stays. You must learn to draw and to shoot, both. Thedrawing you will have to practice by yourself, but I can teach you toshoot. So can those men. Let me have your pistol, please."

  I passed it to her. She was all in a flutter.

  "You must grasp the handle firmly; cover it with your whole palm, butdon't squeeze it to death; just grip it evenly--tuck it away. And keepyour elbow down; and crook your wrist, in a drop, until your triggerknuckle is pointing very low--at a man's feet if you're aiming for hisheart."

  "At his feet, for his heart?" I stammered. The words had an ugly sound.

  "Certainly. We are speaking of shooting now, and not at a tin can. Youhave to allow for the jump of the muzzle. Unless you hold it down withyour wrist, you over shoot; and it's the first shot that counts. Ofcourse, there's a feel, a knack. But don't aim with your eyes. You won'thave time. Men file off the front sight--it sometimes catches, in thedraw. And it's useless, anyway. They fire as they point with the finger,by the feel. You see, they _know_."

  "Evidently you do, too, madam," I faltered, amazed.

  "Not all," she panted. "But I've heard the talk; I've watched--I've seenmany things, sir, from Omaha to Benton. Oh, I wish I could tell you more;I wish I could help you right away. I meant, a dead-shot with the revolverknows beforehand, in the draw, where his bullet shall go. Some men areborn to shoot straight; some have to practice a long, long while. I wonderwhich you are."

  "If there is pressing need in my case," said I, "I shall have to rely uponmy friends to keep me from being done for."

  "You?" she uttered, with a touch of asperity. "Oh, yes. Pish, sir!Friends, I am learning, have their own hides to consider. And thosegentlemen of yours are Gentiles with goods for Salt Lake Mormons. Are theygoing to throw all business to the winds?"

  "You yourself may appeal to his father, and to the women, for protectionif that lout annoys you," I ventured.

  "To them?" she scoffed. "To Hyrum Adams' outfit? Why, t
hey're Mormons andgood Mormons, and why should I not be made over? I'm under theirteachings; I am Edna, already; it's time Daniel had a wife--or two, forreplenishing Utah. Rachael calls me 'sister,' and I can't resent it. Goodat heart as she is, even she is convinced. Why," and she laughedmirthlessly, "I may be sealed to Hyrum himself, if nothing worse is instore. Then I'll be assured of a seat with the saints."

  "You can depend upon me, then. I'll protect you, I'll fight for you, andI'll kill for you," I was on the point of roundly declaring; but didn't.Her kind, I remembered, had spelled ruin upon the pages of men moreexperienced than I. Therefore out of that super-caution born of Benton, Istupidly said nothing.

  She had paused, expectant. She resumed.

  "But no matter. Here I am, and here you are. We were speaking of shooting.This is a lesson in shooting, not in marrying, isn't it? As to thepressing need, you must decide. You've seen and heard enough for that. Ilike you, sir; I respect your spirit and I'm sorry I led you intomisadventure. Now if I may lend you a little something to keep you frombeing shot like a dog, I'll feel as though I had wiped out your scoreagainst me. Take your gun." I took it, the butt warm from her clasp."There he is. Cover him!"

  "Where?" I asked. "Who?"

  "There, before you. Oh, anybody! Think of his heart and cover him. I wantto see you hold."

  I aimed, squinting.

  "No, no! You'll not have time to close an eye; both eyes are none toomany. And you are awkward; you are stiff." She readjusted my arm andfingers. "That's better. You see that little rock? Hit it. Cock yourweapon, first. Hold firmly, not too long. There; I think you're going tohit it, but hold low, low, with the wrist. Now!"

  I fired. The sand obscured the rock. She clapped her hands, delighted.

  "You would have killed him. No--he would have killed you. Quick! Give itto me!"

  And snatching the revolver she cocked, leveled and fired instantly. Therock split into fragments.

  "I would have killed him," she murmured, gazing tense, seeing I knew notwhat. Wrenching from the vision she handed back the revolver to me. "Ithink you're going to do, sir. Only, you must learn to draw. I can tellyou but I can't show you. The men will. You must draw swiftly, decisively,without a halt, and finger on trigger and thumb on hammer and be ready toshoot when the muzzle clears the scabbard. It's a trick."

  "Like this?" I queried, trying.

  "Partly. But it's not a sword you're drawing; it's a gun. You may drawlaughing, if you wish to dissemble for a sudden drop; they do, when theyhave iron in their heart and the bullet already on its way, in their mind.I mustn't stay longer. Shall we go to the fire now? I am cold." Sheshivered. "Daniel is waiting. And when you've delivered me safe you'dbetter leave me, please."

  "Why so?"

  She smiled, looking me straight in the eyes.

  "Quien sabe? To avoid a scene, perhaps; perhaps, to postpone. I have anidea that it is better so. You've baited Daniel far enough for to-night."

  We walked almost without speaking, to the Hyrum Adams fire. Daniel liftedupper lip at me as we entered; his eyes never wandered from my face. Imarked his right hand quivering stiffly; and I disregarded him. For if Ihad challenged him by so much as an overt glance he would have burstbonds.

  Rachael's eyes, the older woman's eyes, the eyes of all, men and women,curious, admonitory, hostile and apprehensive, hot and coldtogether--these I felt also amidst the dusk. I was distinctly unwelcome.Accordingly I said a civil "Good-evening" to Hyrum (whose response out ofcompressed lips was scarce more than a grunt) and raising my hat to MyLady turned my back upon them, for my own bailiwick.

  The other men were waiting en route.

  "Didn't kill ye, did he?"

  "No."

  "Wall," said one, "if you can swing a rattler by the tail, all right. Butwatch his haid."

  Friend Jenks paced on with me to our fire.

  "We were keepin' cases on you, and so was he. He saw that practice--damn,how he did crane! She was givin' you pointers, eh?"

  "Yes; she wanted amusement."

  "It'll set Bonnie Bravo to thinkin'--it'll shorely set him to thinkin',"Jenks chuckled, mouthing his pipe. "She's a smart one." He comfortablyrocked to and fro as we sat by the fire. "Hell! Wall, if you got to killhim you got to kill him and do it proper. For if you don't kill him he'llkill you; snuff you out like a--wall, you saw that can travel."

  "I don't want to kill him," I pleaded. "Why should I?"

  Jenks sat silent; and sitting silent I foresaw that kill Daniel I must. Iwas being sucked into it, irrevocably willed by him, by her, by them all.If I did not kill him in defense of myself I should kill him in defense ofher. Yet why I had to, I wondered; but when I had bought my ticket forBenton I had started the sequence, to this result. Here I was. As she hadsaid, here I was, and here she was. I might not kill for love--no, notthat; I was going to kill for hate. And while I never had killed a man,and in my heart of hearts did not wish to kill a man, since I had to killone, named Daniel, even though he was a bully, a braggart and an infernalover-stepper it was pleasanter to think that I should kill him in hotblood rather than in cold.

  Jenks spat, and yawned.

  "I can l'arn you a few things; all the boys'll help you out," heproffered, "When you git him you'll have to git him quick; for if youdon't--adios. But we'll groom ye."

  Could this really be I? Frank Beeson, not a fortnight ago still living atjog-trot in dear Albany, New York State? It was puzzling how detached andhow strong I felt.