To the Last Man

by Zane Grey

  CHAPTER XII

  A chill, gray, somber dawn was breaking when Ellen dragged herself intothe cabin and crept under her blankets, there to sleep the sleep ofexhaustion.

  When she awoke the hour appeared to be late afternoon. Sun and skyshone through the sunken and decayed roof of the old cabin. Her uncle,Tad Jorth, lay upon a blanket bed upheld by a crude couch of boughs.The light fell upon his face, pale, lined, cast in a still mold ofsuffering. He was not dead, for she heard his respiration.

  The floor underneath Ellen's blankets was bare clay. She and Jorthwere alone in this cabin. It contained nothing besides their beds anda rank growth of weeds along the decayed lower logs. Half of the cabinhad a rude ceiling of rough-hewn boards which formed a kind of loft.This attic extended through to the adjoining cabin, forming the ceilingof the porch-like space between the two structures. There was nopartition. A ladder of two aspen saplings, pegged to the logs, andwith braces between for steps, led up to the attic.

  Ellen smelled wood smoke and the odor of frying meat, and she heard thevoices of men. She looked out to see that Slater and Somers had joinedtheir party--an addition that might have strengthened it for defense,but did not lend her own situation anything favorable. Somers hadalways appeared the one best to avoid.

  Colter espied her and called her to "Come an' feed your pale face." Hiscomrades laughed, not loudly, but guardedly, as if noise was somethingto avoid. Nevertheless, they awoke Tad Jorth, who began to toss andmoan on the bed.

  Ellen hurried to his side and at once ascertained that he had a highfever and was in a critical condition. Every time he tossed he openeda wound in his right breast, rather high up. For all she could see,nothing had been done for him except the binding of a scarf round hisneck and under his arm. This scant bandage had worked loose. Going tothe door, she called out:

  "Fetch me some water." When Colter brought it, Ellen was rummaging inher pack for some clothing or towel that she could use for bandages.

  "Weren't any of y'u decent enough to look after my uncle?" she queried.

  "Huh! Wal, what the hell!" rejoined Colter. "We shore did all wecould. I reckon y'u think it wasn't a tough job to pack him up the Rim.He was done for then an' I said so."

  "I'll do all I can for him," said Ellen.

  "Shore. Go ahaid. When I get plugged or knifed by that half-breed Ishore hope y'u'll be round to nurse me."

  "Y'u seem to be pretty shore of your fate, Colter."

  "Shore as hell!" he bit out, darkly. "Somers saw Isbel an' his gangtrailin' us to the Jorth ranch."

  "Are y'u goin' to stay heah--an' wait for them?"

  "Shore I've been quarrelin' with the fellars out there over that veryquestion. I'm for leavin' the country. But Queen, the damn gunfighter, is daid set to kill that cowman, Blue, who swore he was KingFisher, the old Texas outlaw. None but Queen are spoilin' for anotherfight. All the same they won't leave Tad Jorth heah alone."

  Then Colter leaned in at the door and whispered: "Ellen, I cain't bossthis outfit. So let's y'u an' me shake 'em. I've got your dad's gold.Let's ride off to-night an' shake this country."

  Colter, muttering under his breath, left the door and returned to hiscomrades. Ellen had received her first intimation of his cowardice;and his mention of her father's gold started a train of thought thatpersisted in spite of her efforts to put all her mind to attending heruncle. He grew conscious enough to recognize her working over him, andthanked her with a look that touched Ellen deeply. It changed thedirection of her mind. His suffering and imminent death, which she wasable to alleviate and retard somewhat, worked upon her pity andcompassion so that she forgot her own plight. Half the night she wastending him, cooling his fever, holding him quiet. Well she realizedthat but for her ministrations he would have died. At length he wentto sleep.

  And Ellen, sitting beside him in the lonely, silent darkness of thatlate hour, received again the intimation of nature, those vague andnameless stirrings of her innermost being, those whisperings out of thenight and the forest and the sky. Something great would not let go ofher soul. She pondered.

  Attention to the wounded man occupied Ellen; and soon she redoubled heractivities in this regard, finding in them something of protectionagainst Colter.

  He had waylaid her as she went to a spring for water, and with a lungelike that of a bear he had tried to embrace her. But Ellen had beentoo quick.

  "Wal, are y'u goin' away with me?" he demanded.

  "No. I'll stick by my uncle," she replied.

  That motive of hers seemed to obstruct his will. Ellen was keen to seethat Colter and his comrades were at a last stand and disintegratingunder a severe strain. Nerve and courage of the open and the wild theypossessed, but only in a limited degree. Colter seemed obsessed by hispassion for her, and though Ellen in her stubborn pride did not yetfear him, she realized she ought to. After that incident she watchedclosely, never leaving her uncle's bedside except when Colter wasabsent. One or more of the men kept constant lookout somewhere downthe canyon.

  Day after day passed on the wings of suspense, of watching, ofministering to her uncle, of waiting for some hour that seemed fixed.

  Colter was like a hound upon her trail. At every turn he was there toimportune her to run off with him, to frighten her with the menace ofthe Isbels, to beg her to give herself to him. It came to pass thatthe only relief she had was when she ate with the men or barred thecabin door at night. Not much relief, however, was there in the shutand barred door. With one thrust of his powerful arm Colter could havecaved it in. He knew this as well as Ellen. Still she did not havethe fear she should have had. There was her rifle beside her, andthough she did not allow her mind to run darkly on its possible use,still the fact of its being there at hand somehow strengthened her.Colter was a cat playing with a mouse, but not yet sure of his quarry.

  Ellen came to know hours when she was weak--weak physically, mentally,spiritually, morally--when under the sheer weight of this frightful andgrowing burden of suspense she was not capable of fighting her misery,her abasement, her low ebb of vitality, and at the same time whollywithstanding Colter's advances.

  He would come into the cabin and, utterly indifferent to Tad Jorth, hewould try to make bold and unrestrained love to Ellen. When he caughther in one of her unresisting moments and was able to hold her in hisarms and kiss her he seemed to be beside himself with the wonder ofher. At such moments, if he had any softness or gentleness in him,they expressed themselves in his sooner or later letting her go, whenapparently she was about to faint. So it must have becomefascinatingly fixed in Colter's mind that at times Ellen repulsed himwith scorn and at others could not resist him.

  Ellen had escaped two crises in her relation with this man, and as amorbid doubt, like a poisonous fungus, began to strangle her mind, sheinstinctively divined that there was an approaching and final crisis.No uplift of her spirit came this time--no intimations--no whisperings.How horrible it all was! To long to be good and noble--to realize thatshe was neither--to sink lower day by day! Must she decay there likeone of these rotting logs? Worst of all, then, was the insinuating andever-growing hopelessness. What was the use? What did it matter? Whowould ever think of Ellen Jorth? "O God!" she whispered in herdistraction, "is there nothing left--nothing at all?"

  A period of several days of less torment to Ellen followed. Her uncleapparently took a turn for the better and Colter let her alone. Thislast circumstance nonplused Ellen. She was at a loss to understand itunless the Isbel menace now encroached upon Colter so formidably thathe had forgotten her for the present.

  Then one bright August morning, when she had just begun to relax hereternal vigilance and breathe without oppression, Colter encounteredher and, darkly silent and fierce, he grasped her and drew her off herfeet. Ellen struggled violently, but the total surprise had deprivedher of strength. And that paralyzing weakness assailed her as neverbefore. Without apparent effort Colter carried her, striding rapidlyaway
from the cabins into the border of spruce trees at the foot of thecanyon wall.

  "Colter--where--oh, where are Y'u takin' me?" she found voice to cryout.

  "By God! I don't know," he replied, with strong, vibrant passion. "Iwas a fool not to carry y'u off long ago. But I waited. I was hopin'y'u'd love me! ... An' now that Isbel gang has corralled us. Somersseen the half-breed up on the rocks. An' Springer seen the rest ofthem sneakin' around. I run back after my horse an' y'u."

  "But Uncle Tad! ... We mustn't leave him alone," cried Ellen.

  "We've got to," replied Colter, grimly. "Tad shore won't worry y'u nomore--soon as Jean Isbel gets to him."

  "Oh, let me stay," implored Ellen. "I will save him."

  Colter laughed at the utter absurdity of her appeal and claim. Suddenlyhe set her down upon her feet. "Stand still," he ordered. Ellen sawhis big bay horse, saddled, with pack and blanket, tied there in theshade of a spruce. With swift hands Colter untied him and mounted him,scarcely moving his piercing gaze from Ellen. He reached to grasp her."Up with y'u! ... Put your foot in the stirrup!" His will, like hispowerful arm, was irresistible for Ellen at that moment. She foundherself swung up behind him. Then the horse plunged away. What withthe hard motion and Colter's iron grasp on her Ellen was in a painfulposition. Her knees and feet came into violent contact with branchesand snags. He galloped the horse, tearing through the dense thicket ofwillows that served to hide the entrance to the side canyon, and whenout in the larger and more open canyon he urged him to a run.Presently when Colter put the horse to a slow rise of ground, therebybringing him to a walk, it was just in time to save Ellen a seriousbruising. Again the sunlight appeared to shade over. They were in thepines. Suddenly with backward lunge Colter halted the horse. Ellenheard a yell. She recognized Queen's voice.

  "Turn back, Colter! Turn back!"

  With an oath Colter wheeled his mount. "If I didn't run plump intothem," he ejaculated, harshly. And scarcely had the goaded horsegotten a start when a shot rang out. Ellen felt a violent shock, as ifher momentum had suddenly met with a check, and then she felt herselfwrenched from Colter, from the saddle, and propelled into the air. Shealighted on soft ground and thick grass, and was unhurt save for theviolent wrench and shaking that had rendered her breathless. Beforeshe could rise Colter was pulling at her, lifting her to her feet. Shesaw the horse lying with bloody head. Tall pines loomed all around.Another rifle cracked. "Run!" hissed Colter, and he bounded off,dragging her by the hand. Another yell pealed out. "Here we are,Colter!". Again it was Queen's shrill voice. Ellen ran with all hermight, her heart in her throat, her sight failing to record more than ablur of passing pines and a blank green wall of spruce. Then she losther balance, was falling, yet could not fall because of that steel gripon her hand, and was dragged, and finally carried, into a dense shade.She was blinded. The trees whirled and faded. Voices and shotssounded far away. Then something black seemed to be wiped across herfeeling.

  It turned to gray, to moving blankness, to dim, hazy objects, spectraland tall, like blanketed trees, and when Ellen fully recoveredconsciousness she was being carried through the forest.

  "Wal, little one, that was a close shave for y'u," said Colter's hardvoice, growing clearer. "Reckon your keelin' over was natural enough."

  He held her lightly in both arms, her head resting above his leftelbow. Ellen saw his face as a gray blur, then taking sharper outline,until it stood out distinctly, pale and clammy, with eyes cold andwonderful in their intense flare. As she gazed upward Colter turnedhis head to look back through the woods, and his motion betrayed akeen, wild vigilance. The veins of his lean, brown neck stood out likewhipcords. Two comrades were stalking beside him. Ellen heard theirstealthy steps, and she felt Colter sheer from one side or the other.They were proceeding cautiously, fearful of the rear, but not whollytrusting to the fore.

  "Reckon we'd better go slow an' look before we leap," said one whosevoice Ellen recognized as Springer's.

  "Shore. That open slope ain't to my likin', with our Nez Perce friendprowlin' round," drawled Colter, as he set Ellen down on her feet.

  Another of the rustlers laughed. "Say, can't he twinkle through theforest? I had four shots at him. Harder to hit than a turkey runnin'crossways."

  This facetious speaker was the evil-visaged, sardonic Somers. Hecarried two rifles and wore two belts of cartridges.

  "Ellen, shore y'u ain't so daid white as y'u was," observed Colter, andhe chucked her under the chin with familiar hand. "Set down heah. Idon't want y'u stoppin' any bullets. An' there's no tellin'."

  Ellen was glad to comply with his wish. She had begun to recover witsand strength, yet she still felt shaky. She observed that theirposition then was on the edge of a well-wooded slope from which shecould see the grassy canyon floor below. They were on a level bench,projecting out from the main canyon wall that loomed gray and ruggedand pine fringed. Somers and Cotter and Springer gave careful attentionto all points of the compass, especially in the direction from whichthey had come. They evidently anticipated being trailed or circled orheaded off, but did not manifest much concern. Somers lit a cigarette;Springer wiped his face with a grimy hand and counted the shells in hisbelt, which appeared to be half empty. Colter stretched his long necklike a vulture and peered down the slope and through the aisles of theforest up toward the canyon rim.

  "Listen!" he said, tersely, and bent his head a little to one side, earto the slight breeze.

  They all listened. Ellen heard the beating of her heart, the rustle ofleaves, the tapping of a woodpecker, and faint, remote sounds that shecould not name.

  "Deer, I reckon," spoke up Somers.

  "Ahuh! Wal, I reckon they ain't trailin' us yet," replied Colter. "Wegave them a shade better 'n they sent us."

  "Short an' sweet!" ejaculated Springer, and he removed his blacksombrero to poke a dirty forefinger through a buffet hole in the crown."Thet's how close I come to cashin'. I was lyin' behind a log,listenin' an' watchin', an' when I stuck my head up a little--zam!Somebody made my bonnet leak."

  "Where's Queen?" asked Colter.

  "He was with me fust off," replied Somers. "An' then when the shootin'slacked--after I'd plugged thet big, red-faced, white-haired pal ofIsbel's--"

  "Reckon thet was Blaisdell," interrupted Springer.

  "Queen--he got tired layin' low," went on Somers. "He wanted action. Iheerd him chewin' to himself, an' when I asked him what was eatin' himhe up an' growled he was goin' to quit this Injun fightin'. An' heslipped off in the woods."

  "Wal, that's the gun fighter of it," declared Colter, wagging his head,"Ever since that cowman, Blue, braced us an' said he was King Fisher,why Queen has been sulkier an' sulkier. He cain't help it. He'll dothe same trick as Blue tried. An' shore he'll get his everlastin'. Buthe's the Texas breed all right."

  "Say, do you reckon Blue really is King Fisher?" queried Somers.

  "Naw!" ejaculated Colter, with downward sweep of his hand. "Many awould-be gun slinger has borrowed Fisher's name. But Fisher is daidthese many years."

  "Ahuh! Wal, mebbe, but don't you fergit it--thet Blue was nowould-be," declared Somers. "He was the genuine article."

  "I should smile!" affirmed Springer.

  The subject irritated Colter, and he dismissed it with another forciblegesture and a counter question.

  "How many left in that Isbel outfit?"

  "No tellin'. There shore was enough of them," replied Somers."Anyhow, the woods was full of flyin' bullets.... Springer, did youaccount for any of them?"

  "Nope--not thet I noticed," responded Springer, dryly. "I had mychance at the half-breed.... Reckon I was nervous."

  "Was Slater near you when he yelled out?"

  "No. He was lyin' beside Somers."

  "Wasn't thet a queer way fer a man to act?" broke in Somers. "A bullethit Slater, cut him down the back as he was lyin' flat. Reckon itwasn't bad. But it hurt him so thet he jumped right up an' staggeredaround
. He made a target big as a tree. An' mebbe them Isbels didn'triddle him!"

  "That was when I got my crack at Bill Isbel," declared Colter, withgrim satisfaction. "When they shot my horse out from under me I hadEllen to think of an' couldn't get my rifle. Shore had to run, as yuseen. Wal, as I only had my six-shooter, there was nothin' for me todo but lay low an' listen to the sping of lead. Wells was standin' upbehind a tree about thirty yards off. He got plugged, an' fallin' overhe began to crawl my way, still holdin' to his rifle. I crawled alongthe log to meet him. But he dropped aboot half-way. I went on an'took his rifle an' belt. When I peeped out from behind a spruce bushthen I seen Bill Isbel. He was shootin' fast, an' all of them wasshootin' fast. That war, when they had the open shot at Slater....Wal, I bored Bill Isbel right through his middle. He dropped his riflean', all bent double, he fooled around in a circle till he flopped overthe Rim. I reckon he's layin' right up there somewhere below that daidspruce. I'd shore like to see him."

  "I Wal, you'd be as crazy as Queen if you tried thet," declared Somers."We're not out of the woods yet."

  "I reckon not," replied Colter. "An' I've lost my horse. Where'd y'uleave yours?"

  "They're down the canyon, below thet willow brake. An' saddled an'none of them tied. Reckon we'll have to look them up before dark."

  "Colter, what 're we goin' to do?" demanded Springer.

  "Wait heah a while--then cross the canyon an' work round up under thebluff, back to the cabin."

  "An' then what?" queried Somers, doubtfully eying Colter.

  "We've got to eat--we've got to have blankets," rejoined Colter,testily. "An' I reckon we can hide there an' stand a better show in afight than runnin' for it in the woods."

  "Wal, I'm givin' you a hunch thet it looked like you was runnin' ferit," retorted Somers.

  "Yes, an' packin' the girl," added Springer. "Looks funny to me."

  Both rustlers eyed Colter with dark and distrustful glances. What hemight have replied never transpired, for the reason that his gaze,always shifting around, had suddenly fixed on something.

  "Is that a wolf?" he asked, pointing to the Rim.

  Both his comrades moved to get in line with his finger. Ellen couldnot see from her position.

  "Shore thet's a big lofer," declared Somers. "Reckon he scented us."

  "There he goes along the Rim," observed Colter. "He doesn't act leary.Looks like a good sign to me. Mebbe the Isbels have gone the otherway."

  "Looks bad to me," rejoined Springer, gloomily.

  "An' why?" demanded Colter.

  "I seen thet animal. Fust time I reckoned it was a lofer. Second timeit was right near them Isbels. An' I'm damned now if I don't believeit's thet half-lofer sheep dog of Gass Isbel's."

  "Wal, what if it is?"

  "Ha! ... Shore we needn't worry about hidin' out," replied Springer,sententiously. "With thet dog Jean Isbel could trail a grasshopper."

  "The hell y'u say!" muttered Colter. Manifestly such a possibility puta different light upon the present situation. The men grew silent andwatchful, occupied by brooding thoughts and vigilant surveillance ofall points. Somers slipped off into the brush, soon to return, withintent look of importance.

  "I heerd somethin'," he whispered, jerking his thumb backward. "Rollin'gravel--crackin' of twigs. No deer! ... Reckon it'd be a good idee forus to slip round acrost this bench."

  "Wal, y'u fellars go, an' I'll watch heah," returned Colter.

  "Not much," said Somers, while Springer leered knowingly.

  Colter became incensed, but he did not give way to it. Pondering amoment, he finally turned to Ellen. "Y'u wait heah till I come back.An' if I don't come in reasonable time y'u slip across the canyon an'through the willows to the cabins. Wait till aboot dark." With thathe possessed himself of one of the extra rifles and belts and silentlyjoined his comrades. Together they noiselessly stole into the brush.

  Ellen had no other thought than to comply with Colter's wishes. Therewas her wounded uncle who had been left unattended, and she was anxiousto get back to him. Besides, if she had wanted to run off from Colter,where could she go? Alone in the woods, she would get lost and die ofstarvation. Her lot must be cast with the Jorth faction until the end.That did not seem far away.

  Her strained attention and suspense made the moments fly. By and byseveral shots pealed out far across the side canyon on her right, andthey were answered by reports sounding closer to her. The fight was onagain. But these shots were not repeated. The flies buzzed, the hotsun beat down and sloped to the west, the soft, warm breeze stirred theaspens, the ravens croaked, the red squirrels and blue jays chattered.

  Suddenly a quick, short, yelp electrified Ellen, brought her uprightwith sharp, listening rigidity. Surely it was not a wolf and hardlycould it be a coyote. Again she heard it. The yelp of a sheep dog!She had heard that' often enough to know. And she rose to change herposition so she could command a view of the rocky bluff above.Presently she espied what really appeared to be a big timber wolf. Butanother yelp satisfied her that it really was a dog. She watched him.Soon it became evident that he wanted to get down over the bluff. Heran to and fro, and then out of sight. In a few moments his yelpsounded from lower down, at the base of the bluff, and it was now thecry of an intelligent dog that was trying to call some one to his aid.Ellen grew convinced that the dog was near where Colter had said BillIsbel had plunged over the declivity. Would the dog yelp that way ifthe man was dead? Ellen thought not.

  No one came, and the continuous yelping of the dog got on Ellen'snerves. It was a call for help. And finally she surrendered to it.Since her natural terror when Colter's horse was shot from under herand she had been dragged away, she had not recovered from fear of theIsbels. But calm consideration now convinced her that she could hardlybe in a worse plight in their hands than if she remained in Colter's.So she started out to find the dog.

  The wooded bench was level for a few hundred yards, and then it beganto heave in rugged, rocky bulges up toward the Rim. It did not appearfar to where the dog was barking, but the latter part of the distanceproved to be a hard climb over jumbled rocks and through thick brush.Panting and hot, she at length reached the base of the bluff, to findthat it was not very high.

  The dog espied her before she saw him, for he was coming toward herwhen she discovered him. Big, shaggy, grayish white and black, withwild, keen face and eyes he assuredly looked the reputation Springerhad accorded him. But sagacious, guarded as was his approach, heappeared friendly.

  "Hello--doggie!" panted Ellen. "What's--wrong--up heah?"

  He yelped, his ears lost their stiffness, his body sank a little, andhis bushy tail wagged to and fro. What a gray, clear, intelligent lookhe gave her! Then he trotted back.

  Ellen followed him around a corner of bluff to see the body of a manlying on his back. Fresh earth and gravel lay about him, attesting tohis fall from above. He had on neither coat nor hat, and the positionof his body and limbs suggested broken bones. As Ellen hurried to hisside she saw that the front of his shirt, low down, was a bloodyblotch. But he could lift his head; his eyes were open; he wasperfectly conscious. Ellen did not recognize the dusty, skinned face,yet the mold of features, the look of the eyes, seemed strangelyfamiliar.

  "You're--Jorth's--girl," he said, in faint voice of surprise.

  "Yes, I'm Ellen Jorth," she replied. "An' are y'u Bill Isbel?"

  "All thet's left of me. But I'm thankin' God somebody come--even aJorth."

  Ellen knelt beside him and examined the wound in his abdomen. A heavybullet had indeed, as Colter had avowed, torn clear through his middle.Even if he had not sustained other serious injury from the fall overthe cliff, that terrible bullet wound meant death very shortly. Ellenshuddered. How inexplicable were men! How cruel, bloody, mindless!

  "Isbel, I'm sorry--there's no hope," she said, low voiced. "Y'u've notlong to live. I cain't help y'u. God knows I'd do so if I could."

  "All over!
" he sighed, with his eyes looking beyond her. "I reckon--I'mglad.... But y'u can--do somethin' for or me. Will y'u?"

  "Indeed, Yes. Tell me," she replied, lifting his dusty head on herknee. Her hands trembled as she brushed his wet hair back from hisclammy brow.

  "I've somethin'--on my conscience," he whispered.

  The woman, the sensitive in Ellen, understood and pitied him then.

  "Yes," she encouraged him.

  "I stole cattle--my dad's an' Blaisdell's--an' made deals--withDaggs.... All the crookedness--wasn't on--Jorth's side.... I want--mybrother Jean--to know."

  "I'll try--to tell him," whispered Ellen, out of her great amaze.

  "We were all--a bad lot--except Jean," went on Isbel. "Dad wasn'tfair.... God! how he hated Jorth! Jorth, yes, who was--your father....Wal, they're even now."

  "How--so?" faltered Ellen.

  "Your father killed dad.... At the last--dad wanted to--save us. Hesent word--he'd meet him--face to face--an' let thet end the feud. Theymet out in the road.... But some one shot dad down--with a rifle--an'then your father finished him."

  "An' then, Isbel," added Ellen, with unconscious mocking bitterness,"Your brother murdered my dad!"

  "What!" whispered Bill Isbel. "Shore y'u've got--it wrong. I reckonJean--could have killed--your father.... But he didn't. Queer, we allthought."

  "Ah! ... Who did kill my father?" burst out Ellen, and her voice ranglike great hammers at her ears.

  "It was Blue. He went in the store--alone--faced the whole gang alone.Bluffed them--taunted them--told them he was King Fisher.... Then hekilled--your dad--an' Jackson Jorth.... Jean was out--back of thestore. We were out--front. There was shootin'. Colmor was hit. ThenBlue ran out--bad hurt.... Both of them--died in Meeker's yard."

  "An' so Jean Isbel has not killed a Jorth!" said Ellen, in strange,deep voice.

  "No," replied Isbel, earnestly. "I reckon this feud--was hardest onJean. He never lived heah.... An' my sister Ann said--he got sweet ony'u.... Now did he?"

  Slow, stinging tears filled Ellen's eyes, and her head sank low andlower.

  "Yes--he did," she murmured, tremulously.

  "Ahuh! Wal, thet accounts," replied Isbel, wonderingly. "Too bad! ...It might have been.... A man always sees--different when--he'sdyin'.... If I had--my life--to live over again! ... My poorkids--deserted in their babyhood--ruined for life! All for nothin'....May God forgive--"

  Then he choked and whispered for water.

  Ellen laid his head back and, rising, she took his sombrero and startedhurriedly down the slope, making dust fly and rocks roll. Her mind wasa seething ferment. Leaping, bounding, sliding down the weatheredslope, she gained the bench, to run across that, and so on down intothe open canyon to the willow-bordered brook. Here she filled thesombrero with water and started back, forced now to walk slowly andcarefully. It was then, with the violence and fury of intense muscularactivity denied her, that the tremendous import of Bill Isbel'srevelation burst upon her very flesh and blood and transfiguring thevery world of golden light and azure sky and speaking forestland thatencompassed her.

  Not a drop of the precious water did she spill. Not a misstep did shemake. Yet so great was the spell upon her that she was not aware shehad climbed the steep slope until the dog yelped his welcome. Thenwith all the flood of her emotion surging and resurging she knelt toallay the parching thirst of this dying enemy whose words had changedfrailty to strength, hate to love, and, the gloomy hell of despair tosomething unutterable. But she had returned too late. Bill Isbel wasdead.