章节正文
Arizona Nights
by Stewart Edward White
CHAPTER ONE
THE OLE VIRGINIA
The ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and the
turquoise blue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the dry
countries are infrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm.
We had ridden since sun-up over broad mesas, down and out of
deep canons, along the base of the mountain in the wildest
parts of the territory. The cattle were winding leisurely toward
the high country; the jack rabbits had disappeared; the quail
lacked; we did not see a single antelope in the open.
"It's a case of hole up," the Cattleman ventured his opinion. "I
have a ranch over in the Double R. Charley and Windy Bill hold
it down. We'll tackle it. What do you think?"
The four cowboys agreed. We dropped into a low, broad
watercourse, ascended its bed to big cottonwoods and flowing
water, followed it into box canons between rim-rock carved
fantastically and painted like a Moorish facade, until at last in
a widening below a rounded hill, we came upon an adobe house, a
fruit tree, and a round corral. This was the Double R.
Charley and Windy Bill welcomed us with soda biscuits. We turned
our horses out, spread our beds on the floor, filled our pipes,
and squatted on our heels. Various dogs of various breeds
investigated us. It was very pleasant, and we did not mind the
ring around the sun.
"Somebody else coming," announced the Cattleman finally.
"Uncle Jim," said Charley, after a glance.
A hawk-faced old man with a long white beard and long white hair
rode out from the cottonwoods. He had on a battered broad hat
abnormally high of crown, carried across his saddle a heavy
"eight square" rifle, and was followed by a half-dozen lolloping
hounds.
The largest and fiercest of the latter, catching sight of our
group, launched himself with lightningrapidity at the biggest of
the ranch dogs, promptly" target="_blank" title="ad.敏捷地；即时地">promptly nailed that canine by the back of the
neck, shook him violently a score of times, flung him aside, and
pounced on the next. During the ensuing few moments that hound
was the busiest thing in the West. He satisfactorily whipped
four dogs, pursued two cats up a tree, upset the Dutch oven and
the rest of the soda biscuits, stampeded the horses, and raised a
cloud of dust adequate to represent the smoke of battle. We
others were too paralysed to move. Uncle Jim sat placidly on his
white horse, his thin knees bent to the ox-bow stirrups, smoking.
In ten seconds the trouble was over, principally because there
was no more trouble to make. The hound returned leisurely,
licking from his chops the hair of his victims. Uncle Jim shook
his head.
"Trailer," said he sadly, "is a little severe."
We greed heartily, and turned in to welcome Uncle Jim with a
fresh batch of soda biscuits.
The old man was ne of the typical"long hairs." He had come to
the Galiuro Mountains in '69, and since '69 he had remained in
the Galiuro Mountains, spite of man or the devil. At present he
possessed some hundreds of cattle, which he was reputed to water,
in a dry season, from an ordinary dishpan. In times past he had
prospected.
That evening, the severe Trailer having dropped to slumber, he
held forth on big-game hunting and dogs, quartz claims and
Apaches.
"Did you ever have any very close calls?" I asked.
He ruminated a few moments, refilled his pipe with some awful
tobacco, and told the following experience:
In the time of Geronimo I was living just about where I do now;
and that was just about in line with the raiding. You see,
Geronimo, and Ju [1], and old Loco used to pile out of the
reservation at Camp Apache, raid south to the line, slip over
into Mexico when the soldiers got too promiscuous, and raid there
until they got ready to come back. Then there was always a big
medicine talk. Says Geronimo:
[1] Pronounced "Hoo."
"I am tired of the warpath. I will come back from Mexico with
all my warriors, if you will escort me with soldiers and protect
my people."
"All right," says the General, being only too glad to get him
back at all.
So, then, in ten minutes there wouldn't be a buck in camp, but
next morning they shows up again, each with about fifty head of
hosses.
"Where'd you get those hosses?" asks the General, suspicious.
"Had 'em pastured in the hills," answers Geronimo.
"I can't take all those hosses with me; I believe they're
stolen!" says the General.
"My people cannot go without their hosses," says Geronimo.
So, across the line they goes, and back to the reservation. In
about a week there's fifty-two frantic Greasers wanting to know
where's their hosses. The army is nothing but an importer of
stolen stock, and knows it, and can't help it.
Well, as I says, I'm between Camp Apache and the Mexican line, so
that every raiding party goes right on past me. The point is
that I'm a thousand feet or so above the valley, and the
renegades is in such a devil of a hurry about that time that they
never stop to climb up and collect me. Often I've watched them
trailing down the valley in a cloud of dust. Then, in a day or
two, a squad of soldiers would come up, and camp at my spring for
a while. They used to send soldiers to guard every water hole in
the country so the renegades couldn't get water. After a while,
from not being bothered none, I got thinking I wasn't worth while
with them.
Me and Johnny Hooper were pecking away at the old Virginia mine
then. We'd got down about sixty feet, all timbered, and was
thinking of cross-cutting. One day Johnny went to town, and that
same day I got in a hurry and left my gun at camp.
I worked all the morning down at the bottom of the shaft, and
when I see by the sun it was getting along towards noon, I put in
three good shots, tamped 'em down, lit the fusees, and started to
climb out.
It ain't noways pleasant to light a fuse in a shaft, and then
have to climb out a fifty-foot ladder, with it burning behind
you. I never did get used to it. You keep thinking, "Now
suppose there's a flaw in that fuse, or something, and she goes
off in six seconds instead of two minutes? where'll you be
then?" It would give you a good boost towards your home on high,
anyway.
So I climbed fast, and stuck my head out the top without
looking--and then I froze solid enough. There, about
fifty feet away, climbing up the hill on mighty tired hosses, was
a dozen of the ugliest Chiricahuas you ever don't want to meet,
and in addition a Mexican renegade named Maria, who was worse
than any of 'em. I see at once their bosses was tired out, and
they had a notion of camping at my water hole, not knowing
nothing about the Ole Virginia mine.
For two bits I'd have let go all holts and dropped backwards,
trusting to my thick head for easy lighting. Then I heard a
little fizz and sputter from below. At that my hair riz right up
so I could feel the breeze blow under my bat. For about six
seconds I stood there like an imbecile, grinning amiably. Then
one of the Chiricahuas made a sort of grunt, and I sabed that
they'd seen the original exhibit your Uncle Jim was making of
himself.
Then that fuse gave another sputter and one of the Apaches said
"Un dah." That means "white man." It was harder to turn my head
than if I'd had a stiff neck; but I managed to do it, and I see
that my ore dump wasn't more than ten foot away. I mighty near
overjumped it; and the next I knew I was on one side of it and
those Apaches on the other. Probably I flew; leastways I don't
seem to remember jumping.
That didn't seem to do me much good. The renegades were grinning
and laughing to think how easy a thing they had; and I couldn't
rightly think up any arguments against that notion--at least from
their standpoint. They were chattering away to each other in
Mexican for the benefit of Maria. Oh, they had me all
distributed, down to my suspender buttons! And me squatting
behind that ore dump about as formidable as a brush rabbit!
Then, all at once, one of my shots went off down in the shaft.
"Boom!" says she, plenty big; and a slather of rock, and stones
come out of the mouth, and began to dump down promiscuous on the
scenery. I got one little one in the shoulder-blade, and found
time to wish my ore dump had a roof. But those renegades
caught it square in the thick of trouble. One got knocked out
entirely for a minute, by a nice piece of country rock in the
head.
"Otra vez!" yells I, which means "again."
"Boom!" goes the Ole Virginia prompt as an answer.
I put in my time dodging, but when I gets a chance to look, the
Apaches has all got to cover, and is looking scared.
"Otra vez!" yells I again.
"Boom!" says the Ole Virginia.
This was the biggest shot of the lot, and she surely cut loose.
I ought to have been half-way up the bill watching things from a
safe distance, but I wasn't. Lucky for me the shaft was a little
on the drift, so she didn't quite shoot my way. But she
distributed about a ton over those renegades. They sort of half
got to their feet uncertain.
"Otra vez!" yells I once more, as bold as if I could keep her
shooting all day.
It was just a cold, raw blazer; and if it didn't go through I
could see me as an Apache parlour ornament. But it did. Those
Chiricahuas give one yell and skipped. It was surely a funny
sight, after they got aboard their war ponies, to see them trying
to dig out on horses too tired to trot.
I didn't stop to get all the laughs, though. In fact, I give one
jump off that ledge, and I lit a-running. A quarter-hoss
couldn't have beat me to that shack. There I grabbed old
Meat-in-the-pot and made a climb for the tall country, aiming to
wait around until dark, and then to pull out for Benson. Johnny
Hooper wasn't expected till next day, which was lucky. From
where I lay I could see the Apaches camped out beyond my
draw, and I didn't doubt they'd visited the place. Along about
sunset they all left their camp, and went into the draw, so
there, I thinks, I sees a good chance to make a start before
dark. I dropped down from the mesa, skirted the butte, and
angled down across the country. After I'd gone a half mile from
the cliffs, I ran across Johnny Hooper's fresh trail headed
towards camp!
My heart jumped right up into my mouth at that. Here was poor old
Johnny, a day too early, with a pack-mule of grub, walking
innocent as a yearling, right into the bands of those hostiles.
The trail looked pretty fresh, and Benson's a good long day with
a pack animal, so I thought perhaps I might catch him before he
runs into trouble. So I ran back on the trail as fast as I could
make it. The sun was down by now, and it was getting dusk.
I didn't overtake him, and when I got to the top of the canon I
crawled along very cautious and took a look. Of course, I
expected to see everything up in smoke, but I nearly got up and
yelled when I see everything all right, and old Sukey, the
pack-mule, and Johnny's hoss hitched up as peaceful as
babies to the corral.
"THAT'S all right!" thinks I, "they're back in their camp, and
haven't discovered Johnny yet. I'll snail him out of there."
So I ran down the hill and into the shack. Johnny sat in his
by Stewart Edward White
CHAPTER ONE
THE OLE VIRGINIA
The ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and the
turquoise blue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the dry
countries are infrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm.
We had ridden since sun-up over broad mesas, down and out of
deep canons, along the base of the mountain in the wildest
parts of the territory. The cattle were winding leisurely toward
the high country; the jack rabbits had disappeared; the quail
lacked; we did not see a single antelope in the open.
"It's a case of hole up," the Cattleman ventured his opinion. "I
have a ranch over in the Double R. Charley and Windy Bill hold
it down. We'll tackle it. What do you think?"
The four cowboys agreed. We dropped into a low, broad
watercourse, ascended its bed to big cottonwoods and flowing
water, followed it into box canons between rim-rock carved
fantastically and painted like a Moorish facade, until at last in
a widening below a rounded hill, we came upon an adobe house, a
fruit tree, and a round corral. This was the Double R.
Charley and Windy Bill welcomed us with soda biscuits. We turned
our horses out, spread our beds on the floor, filled our pipes,
and squatted on our heels. Various dogs of various breeds
investigated us. It was very pleasant, and we did not mind the
ring around the sun.
"Somebody else coming," announced the Cattleman finally.
"Uncle Jim," said Charley, after a glance.
A hawk-faced old man with a long white beard and long white hair
rode out from the cottonwoods. He had on a battered broad hat
abnormally high of crown, carried across his saddle a heavy
"eight square" rifle, and was followed by a half-dozen lolloping
hounds.
The largest and fiercest of the latter, catching sight of our
group, launched himself with lightningrapidity at the biggest of
the ranch dogs, promptly" target="_blank" title="ad.敏捷地；即时地">promptly nailed that canine by the back of the
neck, shook him violently a score of times, flung him aside, and
pounced on the next. During the ensuing few moments that hound
was the busiest thing in the West. He satisfactorily whipped
four dogs, pursued two cats up a tree, upset the Dutch oven and
the rest of the soda biscuits, stampeded the horses, and raised a
cloud of dust adequate to represent the smoke of battle. We
others were too paralysed to move. Uncle Jim sat placidly on his
white horse, his thin knees bent to the ox-bow stirrups, smoking.
In ten seconds the trouble was over, principally because there
was no more trouble to make. The hound returned leisurely,
licking from his chops the hair of his victims. Uncle Jim shook
his head.
"Trailer," said he sadly, "is a little severe."
We greed heartily, and turned in to welcome Uncle Jim with a
fresh batch of soda biscuits.
The old man was ne of the typical"long hairs." He had come to
the Galiuro Mountains in '69, and since '69 he had remained in
the Galiuro Mountains, spite of man or the devil. At present he
possessed some hundreds of cattle, which he was reputed to water,
in a dry season, from an ordinary dishpan. In times past he had
prospected.
That evening, the severe Trailer having dropped to slumber, he
held forth on big-game hunting and dogs, quartz claims and
Apaches.
"Did you ever have any very close calls?" I asked.
He ruminated a few moments, refilled his pipe with some awful
tobacco, and told the following experience:
In the time of Geronimo I was living just about where I do now;
and that was just about in line with the raiding. You see,
Geronimo, and Ju [1], and old Loco used to pile out of the
reservation at Camp Apache, raid south to the line, slip over
into Mexico when the soldiers got too promiscuous, and raid there
until they got ready to come back. Then there was always a big
medicine talk. Says Geronimo:
[1] Pronounced "Hoo."
"I am tired of the warpath. I will come back from Mexico with
all my warriors, if you will escort me with soldiers and protect
my people."
"All right," says the General, being only too glad to get him
back at all.
So, then, in ten minutes there wouldn't be a buck in camp, but
next morning they shows up again, each with about fifty head of
hosses.
"Where'd you get those hosses?" asks the General, suspicious.
"Had 'em pastured in the hills," answers Geronimo.
"I can't take all those hosses with me; I believe they're
stolen!" says the General.
"My people cannot go without their hosses," says Geronimo.
So, across the line they goes, and back to the reservation. In
about a week there's fifty-two frantic Greasers wanting to know
where's their hosses. The army is nothing but an importer of
stolen stock, and knows it, and can't help it.
Well, as I says, I'm between Camp Apache and the Mexican line, so
that every raiding party goes right on past me. The point is
that I'm a thousand feet or so above the valley, and the
renegades is in such a devil of a hurry about that time that they
never stop to climb up and collect me. Often I've watched them
trailing down the valley in a cloud of dust. Then, in a day or
two, a squad of soldiers would come up, and camp at my spring for
a while. They used to send soldiers to guard every water hole in
the country so the renegades couldn't get water. After a while,
from not being bothered none, I got thinking I wasn't worth while
with them.
Me and Johnny Hooper were pecking away at the old Virginia mine
then. We'd got down about sixty feet, all timbered, and was
thinking of cross-cutting. One day Johnny went to town, and that
same day I got in a hurry and left my gun at camp.
I worked all the morning down at the bottom of the shaft, and
when I see by the sun it was getting along towards noon, I put in
three good shots, tamped 'em down, lit the fusees, and started to
climb out.
It ain't noways pleasant to light a fuse in a shaft, and then
have to climb out a fifty-foot ladder, with it burning behind
you. I never did get used to it. You keep thinking, "Now
suppose there's a flaw in that fuse, or something, and she goes
off in six seconds instead of two minutes? where'll you be
then?" It would give you a good boost towards your home on high,
anyway.
So I climbed fast, and stuck my head out the top without
looking--and then I froze solid enough. There, about
fifty feet away, climbing up the hill on mighty tired hosses, was
a dozen of the ugliest Chiricahuas you ever don't want to meet,
and in addition a Mexican renegade named Maria, who was worse
than any of 'em. I see at once their bosses was tired out, and
they had a notion of camping at my water hole, not knowing
nothing about the Ole Virginia mine.
For two bits I'd have let go all holts and dropped backwards,
trusting to my thick head for easy lighting. Then I heard a
little fizz and sputter from below. At that my hair riz right up
so I could feel the breeze blow under my bat. For about six
seconds I stood there like an imbecile, grinning amiably. Then
one of the Chiricahuas made a sort of grunt, and I sabed that
they'd seen the original exhibit your Uncle Jim was making of
himself.
Then that fuse gave another sputter and one of the Apaches said
"Un dah." That means "white man." It was harder to turn my head
than if I'd had a stiff neck; but I managed to do it, and I see
that my ore dump wasn't more than ten foot away. I mighty near
overjumped it; and the next I knew I was on one side of it and
those Apaches on the other. Probably I flew; leastways I don't
seem to remember jumping.
That didn't seem to do me much good. The renegades were grinning
and laughing to think how easy a thing they had; and I couldn't
rightly think up any arguments against that notion--at least from
their standpoint. They were chattering away to each other in
Mexican for the benefit of Maria. Oh, they had me all
distributed, down to my suspender buttons! And me squatting
behind that ore dump about as formidable as a brush rabbit!
Then, all at once, one of my shots went off down in the shaft.
"Boom!" says she, plenty big; and a slather of rock, and stones
come out of the mouth, and began to dump down promiscuous on the
scenery. I got one little one in the shoulder-blade, and found
time to wish my ore dump had a roof. But those renegades
caught it square in the thick of trouble. One got knocked out
entirely for a minute, by a nice piece of country rock in the
head.
"Otra vez!" yells I, which means "again."
"Boom!" goes the Ole Virginia prompt as an answer.
I put in my time dodging, but when I gets a chance to look, the
Apaches has all got to cover, and is looking scared.
"Otra vez!" yells I again.
"Boom!" says the Ole Virginia.
This was the biggest shot of the lot, and she surely cut loose.
I ought to have been half-way up the bill watching things from a
safe distance, but I wasn't. Lucky for me the shaft was a little
on the drift, so she didn't quite shoot my way. But she
distributed about a ton over those renegades. They sort of half
got to their feet uncertain.
"Otra vez!" yells I once more, as bold as if I could keep her
shooting all day.
It was just a cold, raw blazer; and if it didn't go through I
could see me as an Apache parlour ornament. But it did. Those
Chiricahuas give one yell and skipped. It was surely a funny
sight, after they got aboard their war ponies, to see them trying
to dig out on horses too tired to trot.
I didn't stop to get all the laughs, though. In fact, I give one
jump off that ledge, and I lit a-running. A quarter-hoss
couldn't have beat me to that shack. There I grabbed old
Meat-in-the-pot and made a climb for the tall country, aiming to
wait around until dark, and then to pull out for Benson. Johnny
Hooper wasn't expected till next day, which was lucky. From
where I lay I could see the Apaches camped out beyond my
draw, and I didn't doubt they'd visited the place. Along about
sunset they all left their camp, and went into the draw, so
there, I thinks, I sees a good chance to make a start before
dark. I dropped down from the mesa, skirted the butte, and
angled down across the country. After I'd gone a half mile from
the cliffs, I ran across Johnny Hooper's fresh trail headed
towards camp!
My heart jumped right up into my mouth at that. Here was poor old
Johnny, a day too early, with a pack-mule of grub, walking
innocent as a yearling, right into the bands of those hostiles.
The trail looked pretty fresh, and Benson's a good long day with
a pack animal, so I thought perhaps I might catch him before he
runs into trouble. So I ran back on the trail as fast as I could
make it. The sun was down by now, and it was getting dusk.
I didn't overtake him, and when I got to the top of the canon I
crawled along very cautious and took a look. Of course, I
expected to see everything up in smoke, but I nearly got up and
yelled when I see everything all right, and old Sukey, the
pack-mule, and Johnny's hoss hitched up as peaceful as
babies to the corral.
"THAT'S all right!" thinks I, "they're back in their camp, and
haven't discovered Johnny yet. I'll snail him out of there."
So I ran down the hill and into the shack. Johnny sat in his
- saddle [´sædl]
n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词) - lightning [´laitniŋ] n.闪电 a.突然的 (初中英语单词)
- promptly [´prɔmptli] ad.敏捷地；即时地 (初中英语单词)
- adequate [´ædikwit] a.足够的；适当的 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- slumber [´slʌmbə] v.&n.睡眠；沉睡状态 (初中英语单词)
- mexico [´meksikəu] n.墨西哥 (初中英语单词)
- mexican [´meksikən] n.&a.墨西哥人(语)的 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- virginia [və´dʒinjə] n.佛吉尼亚(州) (初中英语单词)
- addition [ə´diʃən] n.加；加法；附加物 (初中英语单词)
- breeze [bri:z] n.微风；不费力的事 (初中英语单词)
- exhibit [ig´zibit] vt.展出 n.展览品 (初中英语单词)
- ornament [´ɔ:nəmənt] n.装饰(物) vt.装饰 (初中英语单词)
- aboard [ə´bɔ:d] ad.&prep.在...上 (初中英语单词)
- peaceful [´pi:sfəl] a.和平的；平静的 (初中英语单词)
- arizona [,æri´zəunə] n.亚利桑那(州) (高中英语单词)
- tackle [´tækəl] n.用具；装置 vt.处理 (高中英语单词)
- violently [´vaiələntli] ad.强暴地；猛烈地 (高中英语单词)
- principally [´prinsəpli] ad.主要地；大体上 (高中英语单词)
- heartily [´hɑ:tili] ad.衷心地；亲切地 (高中英语单词)
- quartz [kwɔ:ts] n.石英 (高中英语单词)
- pronounced [prə´naunst] a.发出音的；显著的 (高中英语单词)
- escort [´eskɔ:t] n.伴随者；警卫(队) (高中英语单词)
- reservation [,rezə´veiʃən] n.保留；储备；预定 (高中英语单词)
- frantic [´fræntik] a.发狂的；急忙的 (高中英语单词)
- ladder [´lædə] n.梯子；阶梯 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- formidable [´fɔ:midəbəl] a.可怕的；艰难的 (高中英语单词)
- prompt [prɔmpt] a.敏捷的 vt.促使 (高中英语单词)
- half-way [´hɑ:fwei] ad.半途；几乎 (高中英语单词)
- overtake [,əuvə´teik] vt.追上；赶上 (高中英语单词)
- ridden [´ridn] ride 的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- leisurely [´leʒəli] a.从容地，慢慢地 (英语四级单词)
- antelope [´æntiləup] n.羚羊 (英语四级单词)
- rapidity [rə´piditi] n.迅速；险峻；陡 (英语四级单词)
- lighting [´laitiŋ] n.照明，发光 (英语四级单词)
- standpoint [´stændpɔint] n.立场；观点 (英语四级单词)
- cautious [´kɔ:ʃəs] a.小心的；谨慎的 (英语四级单词)
- satisfactorily [sætis´fæktərili] ad.令人满意地 (英语六级单词)
- trailer [´treilə] n.拖车；跟踪者 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
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