The Crossing

by Cormac McCarthy

  They circled scrabbling in the dirt of the road and he pulled the wolf hard up against his leg and yelled at them and whacked them away with the barrel of the rifle. Two were carrying broken lengths of chain at their collar and the third wore no collar at all. In all that whirling pandemonium he could feel the wolf trembling electrically against him and her heart hammering.

  They were working hounds and although they circled and bayed he knew that they would be loath to attack anything a man held in absolute custody even if it was a wolf. He turned with them and caught one of them in the side of the head with the barrel of the rifle. Git, he shouted. Git. By now two men were coming from the house at a trot.

  They called the dogs by name and two of the dogs actually stopped and looked back down the road. The third arched its back and came at the wolf with a mincing sidelong step and popped its teeth at her and drew away again and stood howling. One of the men had a dinnernapkin hanging from the neck of his shirt and he was breathing heavily. You Julie, he called. Git. Damnation. Get a stick or somethin, RL. Good God.

  The other man unlatched his buckle and whipped his belt out through the loops and began to lay about him with the buckle end. Instantly the dogs were yelping and scurrying. The older man stopped and stood with his hands on his hips catching his breath. He turned to the boy. He saw the napkin in his shirt and pulled it free and wiped his forehead with it and stuck the napkin in his back pocket. You mind tellin me what the hell you're doin? he said.

  Tryin to keep these damn dogs off of my wolf.

  Dont give me no smart answer.

  I aint. I come up on your fence and went to huntin a gate is all. I didnt know all hell was fixin to bust loose.

  What the hell did you expect was goin to happen?

  I didnt know there was dogs here.

  Well hell, you seen the house didnt you?

  Yessir.

  The man squinted at him. You're Will Parham's boy. Aint you?

  Yessir.

  What's your name?

  Billy Parham.

  Well Billy this might sound to you like a ignorant question but what in the hell are you doin with that thing?

  I caught it.

  Well I reckon you did. It's the one with the stick in its mouth. Where are you started with it?

  I was started home.

  No you wasnt. You was headed yonway.

  I was started home with it when I changed my mind.

  What did you change it to?

  The boy didnt answer. The dogs were pacing up and down, the hair standing along their backs.

  RL, take the dogs on to the house and put em up. Tell Mama I'll be there directly.

  He turned to the boy again. How do you aim to get your horse back?

  Walk him down, I reckon.

  Well it's about two miles to the first cattleguard.

  The boy stood holding the wolf. He looked off down the road in the direction the horse had gone.

  Will that thing ride in a truck? the man said.

  The boy gave him a peculiar look.

  Hell, the man said. I want you to listen at me. RL can you take him in the truck to catch his horse?

  Yessir. Is his horse hard to catch?

  Your horse hard to catch? the man said.

  No sir.

  He says it aint.

  Well unless he just wants to go ridin I reckon I can get his horse for him.

  You dont want to ride with that wolf is what it is, the man said.

  It aint that I dont want to. It's that I aint goin to.

  Well I was fixin to say that since it's liable to jump out of the bed of the truck why dont you take it up front in the cab with you and the boy can ride in the back?

  RL had the dogs by their trailing pieces of chain and was fastening the third dog to them with his belt. I got a life sized picture of me ridin up the road with a wolf in the cab of my truck, he said. I can just see it plain as day.

  The man stood looking at the wolf. He reached to adjust his hat but he had no hat on so he scratched his head. He looked at the boy. And here I thought I knowed all the lunatics in this valley, he said. Country crowdin up the way it is. You caint hardly keep up with your own neighbors even. Have you had your supper?

  No sir.

  Well come on to the house.

  What do you want me to do with her?

  Her?

  This here wolf.

  Well I guess it'll just have to lay around the kitchen till we get done eatin.

  Lay around the kitchen?

  It's a joke, son. Hell fire. You brought that thing in the house you could hear my wife in Albuquerque with the wires down.

  I dont want to leave her outside. Somethin's liable to jump her.

  I know that. Just come on. I wouldnt leave her out for nobody to see noways. They'd come and get me with a butterfly net.

  They put the wolf in the smokehouse and left her and walked back to the kitchen. The man looked at the rifle the boy was carrying but he didnt say anything. When they got to the kitchen door the boy stood the rifle against the side of the house and the man held the door for him and they went in.

  The woman had put the supper above the oven to warm and she brought everything out again and set a plate for the boy. Outside they heard RL start the truck. They passed the dishes, bowls of mashed potatoes and pinto beans and a platter of fried steaks. When he had his plate loaded with about all it could hold he looked up at the man. The man nodded at his plate.

  We done blessed the food once, he said. So unless you got some personal business to conduct just tuck on in.

  Yessir.

  They began to eat.

  Mama, the man said, see if you can get him to tell us where it is he's headed with that lobo.

  If he dont want to say he dont have to, the woman said.

  I'm takin her to Mexico.

  The man reached for the butter. Well, he said. That seems like a good idea.

  I'm goin to take her down there and turn her loose.

  The man nodded. Turn her loose, he said.

  Yessir.

  She's got some pups somewheres, aint she?

  No sir. Not yet she dont.

  You sure about that?

  Yessir. She's fixin to have some.

  What have you got against the Mexicans?

  I dont have nothin against em.

  You just figured they might could use another wolf or two.

  The boy cut a piece from his steak and forked it up. The man watched him.

  How are they fixed for rattlesnakes down there do you reckon?

  I aint takin her to give to nobody. I'm just takin her down there and turnin her loose. It's where she come from.

  The man troweled butter very methodically along the edge of a biscuit with his knife. He put the top back on the biscuit and looked at the boy.

  You a very peculiar kid, he said. Did you know that?

  No sir. I was always just like everbody else far as I know.

  Well you aint.

  Yessir.

  Tell me this. You aint plannin on just dumpin that thing across the line are you? Cause if you are I'm goin to follow you out there with a rifle.

  I was goin to take her back to the mountains.

  Take her back to the mountains, the man said. He looked at the biscuit speculatively and then bit slowly into it.

  Where all is your family from? the woman said.

  We're up at the Charcas.

  She means before that, the man said.

  We come out of Grant County. And De Baca fore that.

  The man nodded.

  We been down here a long time.

  What's a long time?

  Goin on ten years.

  Ten years, the man said. Time just flies, dont it?

  Go on and eat your supper, the woman said. Dont pay no attention to him.

  They ate. After a while the truck pulled into the yard and passed the house and the woman got up from the table and went to get RL's plate from the warmer over
the stove.

  When they walked out after supper it was evening and growing cold and the sun was low over the mountains to the west. Bird stood in the yard tied by a rope halter to the gate and the bridle and reins were hung over the saddlehorn. The woman stood in the kitchen door and watched them cross toward the smokehouse.

  Let's be careful about openin this door, the man said. If that thing has come out of that muzzletie you'll wish you was in a bathtub with a alligator.

  Yessir, the boy said.

  The man lifted the open lock from the haspstaple and the boy pushed the door in carefully. She was standing, backed into the corner. There was no window in the little adobe building and she blinked when the light fell across her.

  She's all right, the boy said.

  He pushed the door open.

  That poor thing, the woman said.

  The rancher turned patiently. Jane Ellen, he said, what are you doin out here?

  That leg looks awful. I'm goin to get Jaime.

  You're goin to what?

  Just wait here.

  She turned and set off across the yard. Half way she pulled off the coat she'd thrown over her shoulders and put it on. The man leaned in the door and shook his head.

  Where was she goin? the boy said.

  More craziness, the man said. We could be in a epidemic.

  He stood in the doorway and rolled a smoke while the boy sat holding the wolf by the rope.

  You dont use these do you? the man said.

  No sir.

  That's good. Dont start.

  He smoked. He looked at the boy. What would you take for her cash money? he said.

  She aint for sale.

  What would you take if she was?

  I wouldnt. Cause she aint.

  When the woman came back she had with her an old Mexican who carried a small green tin deedbox under his arm. He greeted the rancher and nudged his hat and entered the smokehouse with the woman behind him. The woman was carrying a bundle of clean sheeting. The Mexican nodded to the boy and touched his hat again and knelt in front of the wolf and looked at it.

  Puede detenerla? he said.

  Si, said the boy.

  Necesitas mas luz? the woman said.

  Si, said the Mexican.

  The man stepped out into the yard and dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. They moved the wolf toward the door and the boy held her while the Mexican took her by the elbow and studied the damaged foreleg. The woman set the tin box on the floor and opened it and took out a bottle of witch-hazel and doped a piece of the sheeting with it. She handed it to the Mexican and he took it and looked at the boy.

  Estas listo, joven?

  Listo.

  He renewed his grip on the wolf and wrapped his legs around her. The Mexican took hold of the wolf's foreleg and began to clean the wound.

  She let out a strangled yelp and reared twisting in the boy's arms and snatched her foot out of the Mexican's grip.

  Otra vez, the Mexican said.

  They began again.

  On the second attempt she slung the boy about the room and the Mexican stepped back quickly. The woman had already backed away. The wolf was standing with the slobber seething in and out between her teeth and the boy was lying on the floor beneath her hanging on to her neck. The rancher out in the yard had started to roll another cigarette but now he put the sack back in his shirtpocket and adjusted his hat.

  Hang on a minute, he said. Damnation. Just hold it a minute.

  He climbed through the door and reached and got hold of the wolf by the rope and twisted the rope in his fist.

  People hear about me givin first aid to a damn wolf I wont be able to live in this county, he said. All right. Do your damndest. Andale.

  They finished their surgery in the last light of the sun. The Mexican had pulled the loose flap of skin into place and he sat patiently sewing it with a small curved needle clamped in a hemostat and when he was done he daubed it with Corona Salve and wrapped it in sheeting and tied it. RL had come out and stood watching them and picking his teeth.

  Did you give her some water? the woman said.

  Yes mam. It's kindly hard for her to drink.

  I guess if you took that thing off of her she'd bite.

  The rancher stepped over the wolf and out into the yard. Bite, he said. Good God almighty.

  When he rode out thirty minutes later it was all but dark. He'd given the trap to the rancher to keep for him and he had a huge lunch wrapped in a cloth packed away in the mochila along with the rest of the sheeting and the jar of Corona Salve and he had an old Saltillo blanket rolled and tied behind the saddle. Someone had spliced new leather into the broken bridle reins and the wolf was wearing a harnessleather dogcollar with a brass plate that had the rancher's name and RFD number and Cloverdale NM stamped into it. The rancher walked out to the gate with him and undid the gatelatch and swung it open and the boy led the horse through with the wolf behind and mounted up.

  You take care, son, the man said.

  Yessir, I will. Thank you.

  I thought about keepin you here. Send for your daddy.

  Yessir, I know you did.

  He may want to whip me over it.

  No he wont.

  Well. Watch out for the bandidos.

  Yessir. I will. I thank you and the missus.

  The man nodded. The boy raised one hand and reined the horse about and set out across the darkening land with the wolf hobbling behind. The man stood at the gate watching after him. All to the south was the dark of the mountains where they rode and he could not skylight them there and soon they were swallowed up and lost horse and rider in the oncoming night. The last thing he saw on that windblown waste was the white bandaged leg of the wolf moving random and staccato like some pale djinn out there antic in the growing cold and dark. Then it too vanished and he closed the gate and turned toward the house.

  THEY CROSSED in that deep twilight a broad volcanic plain bounded within the rim of hills. The hills were a deep blue in the blue dusk and the round feet of the pony clopped flatly on the gravel of the desert floor. The night was falling down from the east and the darkness that passed over them came in a sudden breath of cold and stillness and passed on. As if the darkness had a soul itself that was the sun's assassin hurrying to the west as once men did believe, as they may believe again. They rode up off the plain in the final dying light man and wolf and horse over a terraceland of low hills much eroded by the wind and they crossed through a fenceline or crossed where a fenceline once had been, the wires long down and rolled and carried off and the little naked mesquite posts wandering singlefile away into the night like an enfilade of bent and twisted pensioners. They rode through the pass in the dark and there he sat the horse and watched lightning to the south far over the plains of Mexico. The wind was thrashing softly through the trees in the pass and in the wind were spits of sleet. He made his camp in the lee of an arroyo south of the pass and gathered wood and made a fire and gave the wolf all the water she would drink. Then he tied her to the washedout elbow of a cottonwood and walked back and unsaddled and hobbled the horse. He unrolled the blanket and threw it over his shoulders and took the mochila and went and sat before the fire. The wolf sat on her haunches below him in the draw and watched him with her intractable eyes so red in the firelight. From time to time she would bend to try the bindings on her leg with her sideteeth but she could not grip them for the stick in her jaws.

  He took a sandwich of steak and lightbread from the mochila and unwrapped it and sat eating. The little fire sawed about in the wind and the fine sleet fell slant upon them out of the darkness and hissed in the coals. He ate and watched the wolf. She pricked her ears and turned and looked out at the night but whatever was passing passed and after a while she stood and looked bleakly at the ground that was not of her choosing and circled three times and lay down facing the fire with her tail over her nose.

  He woke all night with the cold. He'd rise and mend back the fire and she wa
s always watching him. When the flames came up her eyes burned out there like gatelamps to another world. A world burning on the shore of an unknowable void. A world construed out of blood and blood's alcahest and blood in its core and in its integument because it was that nothing save blood had power to resonate against that void which threatened hourly to devour it. He wrapped himself in the blanket and watched her. When those eyes and the nation to which they stood witness were gone at last with their dignity back into their origins there would perhaps be other fires and other witnesses and other worlds otherwise beheld. But they would not be this one.

  The last few hours before dawn he did sleep, cold or no. He rose in the gray light and pulled the blanket about him and knelt and tried to blow life into the dead ashes of the fire. He walked out to where he could watch the east for the sunrise. A mottled scud of clouds lay across the neutral desert sky. The wind had abated and the dawn was soundless.

  When he approached the wolf holding the canteen she did not bridle or arch her back at him. He touched her and she edged away. He held her by the collar and pushed her down and sat trickling the water between her teeth while her tongue worked and her gullet jerked and the cold slant eye watched his hand. He held his hand under her jaw at the far side to save the water running out on the ground and she drank the canteen dry. He sat stroking her. Then he reached down and felt her belly. She struggled and her eye rolled wildly. He spoke to her softly. He put the flat of his hand between her warm and naked teats. He held it there for a long time. Then he felt something move.

  When he set out across the valley to the south the grass was golden in the morning sun. Antelope were grazing on the plain a half mile to the cast. He looked back to see if she had taken notice of them but she had not. She limped along behind the horse steadfast and doglike and in this fashion they crossed sometime near noon the international boundary line into Mexico, State of Sonora, undifferentiated in its terrain from the country they quit and yet wholly alien and wholly strange. He sat the horse and looked out over the red hills. To the east he could see one of the concrete obelisks that stood for a boundary marker. In that desert waste it had the look of some monument to a lost expedition.

  Two hours later they'd left the valley and begun to climb through the low hills. Sparse grass and ocotillo. A few thin cattle trotted off before them. By and by they struck the Cajon Bonita which was the main trail south through the mountains and by the side of this track an hour later they came upon a small rancho.