章节正文
Climb up! Keep your wits. Stick close to me. Watch where your
hoss's goin' en' ride!"
Somehow Jane mounted; somehow found strength to hold the reins,
to spur, to cling on, to ride. A horrible quaking, craven fear
possessed her soul. Lassiter led the swift flight across the wide
space, over washes, through sage, into a narrow canyon where the
rapid clatter of hoofs rapped sharply from the walls. The wind
roared in her ears; the gleaming cliffs swept by; trail and sage
and grass moved under her. Lassiter's bandaged, blood-stained
face turned to her; he shouted encouragement; he looked back down
the Pass; he spurred his horse. Jane clung on, spurring likewise.
And the horses settled from hard, furiousgallop into a
long-stridng, driving run. She had never ridden at anything like
that pace; desperately she tried to get the swing of the horse,
to be of some help to him in that race, to see the best of the
ground and guide him into it. But she failed of everything except
to keep her seat the saddle, and to spur and spur. At times she
closed her eyes unable to bear sight of Fay's golden curls
streaming in the wind. She could not pray; she could not rail;
she no longer cared for herself. All of life, of good, of use in
the world, of hope in heaven entered in Lassiter's ride with
little Fay to safety. She would have tried to turn the iron-jawed
brute she rode, she would have given herself to that relentless,
dark-browed Tull. But she knew Lassiter would turn with her, so
she rode on and on.
Whether that run was of moments or hours Jane Withersteen could
not tell. Lassiter's horse covered her with froth that blew back
in white streams. Both horses ran their limit, were allowed slow
down in time to save them, and went on dripping, heaving,
staggering.
"Oh, Lassiter, we must run--we must run!"
He looked back, saying nothing. The bandage had blown from his
head, and blood trickled down his face. He was bowing under the
strain of injuries, of the ride, of his burden. Yet how cool and
gay he looked--how intrepid!
The horses walked, trotted, galloped, ran, to fall again to walk.
Hours sped or dragged. Time was an instant--an eternity. Jane
Withersteen felt hell pursuing her, and dared not look back for
fear she would fall from her horse.
"Oh, Lassiter! Is he coming?"
The grim rider looked over his shoulder, but said no word. Fay's
golden hair floated on the breeze. The sun shone; the walls
gleamed; the sage glistened. And then it seemed the sun vanished,
the walls shaded, the sage paled. The horses
walked--trotted--galloped--ran--to fall again to walk. Shadows
gathered under shelving cliffs. The canyon turned, brightened,
opened into a long, wide, wall-enclosed valley. Again the sun,
lowering in the west, reddened the sage. Far ahead round,
scrawled stone appeared to block the Pass.
"Bear up, Jane, bear up!" called Lassiter. "It's our game, if you
don't weaken."
"Lassiter! Go on--alone! Save little Fay!"
"Only with you!"
"Oh!--I'm a coward--a miserable coward! I can't fight or think or
hope or pray! I'm lost! Oh, Lassiter, look back! Is he coming?
I'll not--hold out--"
"Keep your breath, woman, an' ride not for yourself or for me,
but for Fay!"
A last breaking run across the sage brought Lassiter's horse to a
walk.
"He's done," said the rider.
"Oh, no--no!" moaned Jane.
"Look back, Jane, look back. Three--four miles we've come across
this valley, en' no Tull yet in sight. Only a few more miles!"
Jane looked back over the long stretch of sage, and found the
narrow gap in the wall, out of which came a file of dark horses
with a white horse in the lead. Sight of the riders acted upon
Jane as a stimulant. The weight of cold, horrible terror
lessened. And, gazing forward at the dogs, at Lassiter's limping
horse, at the blood on his face, at the rocks growing nearer,
last at Fay's golden hair, the ice left her veins, and slowly,
strangely, she gained hold of strength that she believed would
see her to the safety Lassiter promised. And, as she gazed,
Lassiter's horse stumbled and fell. He swung his leg and slipped
from the saddle.
"Jane, take the child," he said, and lifted Fay up. Jane clasped
her arms suddenly strong. "They're gainin'," went on Lassiter, as
he watched the pursuing riders. "But we'll beat 'em yet."
Turning with Jane's bridle in his hand, he was about to start
when he saw the saddle-bag on the fallen horse.
"I've jest about got time," he muttered, and with swift fingers
that did not blunder or fumble he loosened the bag and threw it
over his shoulder. Then he started to run, leading Jane's horse,
and he ran, and trotted, and walked, and ran again. Close ahead
now Jane saw a rise of bare rock. Lassiter reached it, searched
along the base, and, finding a low place, dragged the weary horse
up and over round, smooth stone. Looking backward, Jane saw
Tull's white horse not a mile distant, with riders strung out in
a long line behind him. Looking forward, she saw more valley to
the right, and to the left a towering cliff. Lassiter pulled the
horse and kept on.
Little Fay lay in her arms with wide-open eyes--eyes which were
still shadowed by pain, but no longer fixed, glazed in terror.
The golden curls blew across Jane's lips; the little hands feebly
clasped her arm; a ghost of a troubled, trustful smile hovered
round the sweet lips. And Jane Withersteen awoke to the spirit of
a lioness.
Lassiter was leading the horse up a smooth slope toward cedar
trees of twisted and bleached appearance. Among these he halted.
"Jane, give me the girl en' get down," he said. As if it wrenched
him he unbuckled the empty black guns with a strange air of
finality. He then received Fay in his arms and stood a moment
looking backward. Tull's white horse mounted the ridge of round
stone, and several bays or blacks followed. "I wonder what he'll
think when he sees them empty guns. Jane, bring your saddle-bag
and climb after me."
A glistening, wonderful bare slope, with little holes, swelled up
and up to lose itself in a frowning yellow cliff. Jane closely
watched her steps and climbed behind Lassiter. He moved slowly.
Perhaps he was only husbanding his strength. But she saw drops of
blood on the stone, and then she knew. They climbed and climbed
without looking back. Her breast labored; she began to feel as if
little points of fiery steel were penetrating her side into her
lungs. She heard the panting of Lassiter and the quicker panting
of the dogs.
"Wait--here," he said.
Before her rose a bulge of stone, nicked with little cut steps,
and above that a corner of yellow wall, and overhanging that a
vast, ponderous cliff.
The dogs pattered up, disappeared round the corner. Lassiter
mounted the steps with Fay, and he swayed like a drunken man, and
he too disappeared. But instantly he returned alone, and half
ran, half slipped down to her.
Then from below pealed up hoarse shouts of angry men. Tull and
several of his riders had reached the spot where Lassiter had
parted with his guns.
"You'll need that breath--mebbe!" said Lassiter, facing downward,
with glittering eyes.
"Now, Jane, the last pull," he went on. "Walk up them little
steps. I'll follow an' steady you. Don't think. Jest go. Little
Fay's above. Her eyes are open. She jest said to me, 'Where's
movver Jane?"
Without a fear or a tremor or a slip or a touch of Lassiter's
hand Jane Withersteen walked up that ladder of cut steps.
He pushed her round the corner of the wall. Fay lay, with wide
staring eyes, in the shade of a gloomy wall. The dogs waited.
Lassiter picked up the child and turned into a dark cleft. It
zigzagged. It widened. It opened. Jane was amazed at a
wonderfully smooth and steep incline leading up between ruined,
splintered, toppling walls. A red haze from the setting sun
filled this passage. Lassiter climbed with slow, measured steps,
and blood dripped from him to make splotches on the white stone.
Jane tried not to step in his blood, but was compelled, for she
found no other footing. The saddle-bag began to drag her down;
she gasped for breath, she thought her heart was bursting.
Slower, slower yet the rider climbed, whistling as he breathed.
The incline widened. Huge pinnacles and monuments of stone stood
alone, leaning fearfully. Red sunset haze shone through cracks
where the wall had split. Jane did not look high, but she felt
the overshadowing of broken rims above. She felt that it was a
fearful, menacing place. And she climbed on in heartrending
effort. And she fell beside Lassiter and Fay at the top of the
incline in a narrow, smooth divide.
He staggered to his feet--staggered to a huge, leaning rock that
rested on a small pedestal. He put his hand on it--the hand that
had been shot through--and Jane saw blood drip from the ragged
hole. Then he fell.
"Jane--I--can't--do--it!" he whispered.
"What?"
"Roll the--stone!...All my--life I've loved--to roll stones--en'
now I--can't!"
"What of it? You talk strangely. Why roll that stone?"
"I planned to--fetch you here--to roll this stone. See! It'll
smash the crags--loosen the walls--close the outlet!"
As Jane Withersteen gazed down that long incline, walled in by
crumbling cliffs, awaiting only the slightest jar to make them
fall asunder, she saw Tull appear at the bottom and begin to
climb. A rider followed him-- another--and another.
"See! Tull! The riders!"
"Yes--they'll get us--now."
"Why? Haven't you strength left to roll the stone?"
"Jane--it ain't that--I've lost my nerve!"
"You!...Lassiter!"
"I wanted to roll it--meant to--but I--can't. Venters's valley is
down behind here. We could--live there. But if I roll the
stone--we're shut in for always. I don't dare. I'm thinkin' of
you!"
"Lassiter! Roll the stone!" she cried.
He arose, tottering, but with set face, and again he placed the
bloody hand on the Balancing Rock. Jane Withersteen gazed from
him down the passageway. Tull was climbing. Almost, she thought,
she saw his dark, relentless face. Behind him more riders
climbed. What did they mean for Fay--for Lassiter--for herself?
"Roll the stone!...Lassiter, I love you!"
Under all his deathly pallor, and the blood, and the iron of
seared cheek and lined brow, worked a great change. He placed
both hands on the rock and then leaned his shoulder there and
braced his powerful body.
ROLL THE STONE!
It stirred, it groaned, it grated, it moved, and with a slow
grinding, as of wrathful relief, began to lean. It had waited
ages to fall, and now was slow in starting. Then, as if suddenly
instinct with life, it leaped hurtingly down to alight on the
steep incline, to bound more swiftly into the air, to gather
momentum, to plunge into the lofty leaning crag below. The crag
thundered into atoms. A wave of air--a splitting shock! Dust
shrouded the sunset red of shaking rims; dust shrouded Tull as he
fell on his knees with uplifted arms. Shafts and monuments and
sections of wall fell majestically.
From the depths there rose a long-drawn rumbling roar. The outlet
to Deception Pass closed forever.
hoss's goin' en' ride!"
Somehow Jane mounted; somehow found strength to hold the reins,
to spur, to cling on, to ride. A horrible quaking, craven fear
possessed her soul. Lassiter led the swift flight across the wide
space, over washes, through sage, into a narrow canyon where the
rapid clatter of hoofs rapped sharply from the walls. The wind
roared in her ears; the gleaming cliffs swept by; trail and sage
and grass moved under her. Lassiter's bandaged, blood-stained
face turned to her; he shouted encouragement; he looked back down
the Pass; he spurred his horse. Jane clung on, spurring likewise.
And the horses settled from hard, furiousgallop into a
long-stridng, driving run. She had never ridden at anything like
that pace; desperately she tried to get the swing of the horse,
to be of some help to him in that race, to see the best of the
ground and guide him into it. But she failed of everything except
to keep her seat the saddle, and to spur and spur. At times she
closed her eyes unable to bear sight of Fay's golden curls
streaming in the wind. She could not pray; she could not rail;
she no longer cared for herself. All of life, of good, of use in
the world, of hope in heaven entered in Lassiter's ride with
little Fay to safety. She would have tried to turn the iron-jawed
brute she rode, she would have given herself to that relentless,
dark-browed Tull. But she knew Lassiter would turn with her, so
she rode on and on.
Whether that run was of moments or hours Jane Withersteen could
not tell. Lassiter's horse covered her with froth that blew back
in white streams. Both horses ran their limit, were allowed slow
down in time to save them, and went on dripping, heaving,
staggering.
"Oh, Lassiter, we must run--we must run!"
He looked back, saying nothing. The bandage had blown from his
head, and blood trickled down his face. He was bowing under the
strain of injuries, of the ride, of his burden. Yet how cool and
gay he looked--how intrepid!
The horses walked, trotted, galloped, ran, to fall again to walk.
Hours sped or dragged. Time was an instant--an eternity. Jane
Withersteen felt hell pursuing her, and dared not look back for
fear she would fall from her horse.
"Oh, Lassiter! Is he coming?"
The grim rider looked over his shoulder, but said no word. Fay's
golden hair floated on the breeze. The sun shone; the walls
gleamed; the sage glistened. And then it seemed the sun vanished,
the walls shaded, the sage paled. The horses
walked--trotted--galloped--ran--to fall again to walk. Shadows
gathered under shelving cliffs. The canyon turned, brightened,
opened into a long, wide, wall-enclosed valley. Again the sun,
lowering in the west, reddened the sage. Far ahead round,
scrawled stone appeared to block the Pass.
"Bear up, Jane, bear up!" called Lassiter. "It's our game, if you
don't weaken."
"Lassiter! Go on--alone! Save little Fay!"
"Only with you!"
"Oh!--I'm a coward--a miserable coward! I can't fight or think or
hope or pray! I'm lost! Oh, Lassiter, look back! Is he coming?
I'll not--hold out--"
"Keep your breath, woman, an' ride not for yourself or for me,
but for Fay!"
A last breaking run across the sage brought Lassiter's horse to a
walk.
"He's done," said the rider.
"Oh, no--no!" moaned Jane.
"Look back, Jane, look back. Three--four miles we've come across
this valley, en' no Tull yet in sight. Only a few more miles!"
Jane looked back over the long stretch of sage, and found the
narrow gap in the wall, out of which came a file of dark horses
with a white horse in the lead. Sight of the riders acted upon
Jane as a stimulant. The weight of cold, horrible terror
lessened. And, gazing forward at the dogs, at Lassiter's limping
horse, at the blood on his face, at the rocks growing nearer,
last at Fay's golden hair, the ice left her veins, and slowly,
strangely, she gained hold of strength that she believed would
see her to the safety Lassiter promised. And, as she gazed,
Lassiter's horse stumbled and fell. He swung his leg and slipped
from the saddle.
"Jane, take the child," he said, and lifted Fay up. Jane clasped
her arms suddenly strong. "They're gainin'," went on Lassiter, as
he watched the pursuing riders. "But we'll beat 'em yet."
Turning with Jane's bridle in his hand, he was about to start
when he saw the saddle-bag on the fallen horse.
"I've jest about got time," he muttered, and with swift fingers
that did not blunder or fumble he loosened the bag and threw it
over his shoulder. Then he started to run, leading Jane's horse,
and he ran, and trotted, and walked, and ran again. Close ahead
now Jane saw a rise of bare rock. Lassiter reached it, searched
along the base, and, finding a low place, dragged the weary horse
up and over round, smooth stone. Looking backward, Jane saw
Tull's white horse not a mile distant, with riders strung out in
a long line behind him. Looking forward, she saw more valley to
the right, and to the left a towering cliff. Lassiter pulled the
horse and kept on.
Little Fay lay in her arms with wide-open eyes--eyes which were
still shadowed by pain, but no longer fixed, glazed in terror.
The golden curls blew across Jane's lips; the little hands feebly
clasped her arm; a ghost of a troubled, trustful smile hovered
round the sweet lips. And Jane Withersteen awoke to the spirit of
a lioness.
Lassiter was leading the horse up a smooth slope toward cedar
trees of twisted and bleached appearance. Among these he halted.
"Jane, give me the girl en' get down," he said. As if it wrenched
him he unbuckled the empty black guns with a strange air of
finality. He then received Fay in his arms and stood a moment
looking backward. Tull's white horse mounted the ridge of round
stone, and several bays or blacks followed. "I wonder what he'll
think when he sees them empty guns. Jane, bring your saddle-bag
and climb after me."
A glistening, wonderful bare slope, with little holes, swelled up
and up to lose itself in a frowning yellow cliff. Jane closely
watched her steps and climbed behind Lassiter. He moved slowly.
Perhaps he was only husbanding his strength. But she saw drops of
blood on the stone, and then she knew. They climbed and climbed
without looking back. Her breast labored; she began to feel as if
little points of fiery steel were penetrating her side into her
lungs. She heard the panting of Lassiter and the quicker panting
of the dogs.
"Wait--here," he said.
Before her rose a bulge of stone, nicked with little cut steps,
and above that a corner of yellow wall, and overhanging that a
vast, ponderous cliff.
The dogs pattered up, disappeared round the corner. Lassiter
mounted the steps with Fay, and he swayed like a drunken man, and
he too disappeared. But instantly he returned alone, and half
ran, half slipped down to her.
Then from below pealed up hoarse shouts of angry men. Tull and
several of his riders had reached the spot where Lassiter had
parted with his guns.
"You'll need that breath--mebbe!" said Lassiter, facing downward,
with glittering eyes.
"Now, Jane, the last pull," he went on. "Walk up them little
steps. I'll follow an' steady you. Don't think. Jest go. Little
Fay's above. Her eyes are open. She jest said to me, 'Where's
movver Jane?"
Without a fear or a tremor or a slip or a touch of Lassiter's
hand Jane Withersteen walked up that ladder of cut steps.
He pushed her round the corner of the wall. Fay lay, with wide
staring eyes, in the shade of a gloomy wall. The dogs waited.
Lassiter picked up the child and turned into a dark cleft. It
zigzagged. It widened. It opened. Jane was amazed at a
wonderfully smooth and steep incline leading up between ruined,
splintered, toppling walls. A red haze from the setting sun
filled this passage. Lassiter climbed with slow, measured steps,
and blood dripped from him to make splotches on the white stone.
Jane tried not to step in his blood, but was compelled, for she
found no other footing. The saddle-bag began to drag her down;
she gasped for breath, she thought her heart was bursting.
Slower, slower yet the rider climbed, whistling as he breathed.
The incline widened. Huge pinnacles and monuments of stone stood
alone, leaning fearfully. Red sunset haze shone through cracks
where the wall had split. Jane did not look high, but she felt
the overshadowing of broken rims above. She felt that it was a
fearful, menacing place. And she climbed on in heartrending
effort. And she fell beside Lassiter and Fay at the top of the
incline in a narrow, smooth divide.
He staggered to his feet--staggered to a huge, leaning rock that
rested on a small pedestal. He put his hand on it--the hand that
had been shot through--and Jane saw blood drip from the ragged
hole. Then he fell.
"Jane--I--can't--do--it!" he whispered.
"What?"
"Roll the--stone!...All my--life I've loved--to roll stones--en'
now I--can't!"
"What of it? You talk strangely. Why roll that stone?"
"I planned to--fetch you here--to roll this stone. See! It'll
smash the crags--loosen the walls--close the outlet!"
As Jane Withersteen gazed down that long incline, walled in by
crumbling cliffs, awaiting only the slightest jar to make them
fall asunder, she saw Tull appear at the bottom and begin to
climb. A rider followed him-- another--and another.
"See! Tull! The riders!"
"Yes--they'll get us--now."
"Why? Haven't you strength left to roll the stone?"
"Jane--it ain't that--I've lost my nerve!"
"You!...Lassiter!"
"I wanted to roll it--meant to--but I--can't. Venters's valley is
down behind here. We could--live there. But if I roll the
stone--we're shut in for always. I don't dare. I'm thinkin' of
you!"
"Lassiter! Roll the stone!" she cried.
He arose, tottering, but with set face, and again he placed the
bloody hand on the Balancing Rock. Jane Withersteen gazed from
him down the passageway. Tull was climbing. Almost, she thought,
she saw his dark, relentless face. Behind him more riders
climbed. What did they mean for Fay--for Lassiter--for herself?
"Roll the stone!...Lassiter, I love you!"
Under all his deathly pallor, and the blood, and the iron of
seared cheek and lined brow, worked a great change. He placed
both hands on the rock and then leaned his shoulder there and
braced his powerful body.
ROLL THE STONE!
It stirred, it groaned, it grated, it moved, and with a slow
grinding, as of wrathful relief, began to lean. It had waited
ages to fall, and now was slow in starting. Then, as if suddenly
instinct with life, it leaped hurtingly down to alight on the
steep incline, to bound more swiftly into the air, to gather
momentum, to plunge into the lofty leaning crag below. The crag
thundered into atoms. A wave of air--a splitting shock! Dust
shrouded the sunset red of shaking rims; dust shrouded Tull as he
fell on his knees with uplifted arms. Shafts and monuments and
sections of wall fell majestically.
From the depths there rose a long-drawn rumbling roar. The outlet
to Deception Pass closed forever.
- horrible [´hɔrəbəl]
a.可怕的；恐怖的 (初中英语单词) - flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- sharply [´ʃɑ:pli] ad.锋利地；剧烈地 (初中英语单词)
- furious [´fjuəriəs] a.狂怒的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- gallop [´gæləp] n.&v.奔驰；急速行进 (初中英语单词)
- saddle [´sædl] n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词)
- unable [ʌn´eibəl] a.不能的；无能为力的 (初中英语单词)
- breeze [bri:z] n.微风；不费力的事 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- backward [´bækwəd] ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词)
- drunken [´drʌŋkən] a.喝醉的；常醉的 (初中英语单词)
- instantly [´instəntli] ad.立即，立刻 (初中英语单词)
- incline [in´klain] v.(使)倾斜 n.斜坡 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- strangely [´streindʒli] ad.奇怪地；陌生地 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- alight [ə´lait] a.燃着的 vi.下；降落 (初中英语单词)
- swiftly [´swiftli] ad.迅速地，敏捷地 (初中英语单词)
- plunge [plʌndʒ] v.插进 n.投入；冲击 (初中英语单词)
- clatter [´klætə] n.&v.喧嚷；骚动 (高中英语单词)
- encouragement [in´kʌridʒmənt] n.鼓励；赞助；引诱 (高中英语单词)
- desperately [´despəritli] ad.绝望地；拼命地 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- bandage [´bændidʒ] n.绷带 vt.用绷带包扎 (高中英语单词)
- eternity [i´tə:niti] n.永恒，来世，无穷 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- blunder [´blʌndə] n.&v.(犯)大错；疏忽 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- ladder [´lædə] n.梯子；阶梯 (高中英语单词)
- gloomy [´glu:mi] a.昏暗的；忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- canyon [´kænjən] n.峡谷 (英语四级单词)
- ridden [´ridn] ride 的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- fumble [´fʌmbəl] v.&n.摸索；接漏球 (英语四级单词)
- towering [´tauəriŋ] a.高耸的；强烈的 (英语四级单词)
- hoarse [hɔ:s] a.嘶哑的；嗓门粗哑的 (英语四级单词)
- setting [´setiŋ] n.安装；排字；布景 (英语四级单词)
- pedestal [´pedistl] n.垫座 vt.给...装上座 (英语四级单词)
- asunder [ə´sʌndə] a.分开地；零散地 (英语四级单词)
- ponderous [´pɔndərəs] a.沉重的；冗长的 (英语六级单词)
- footing [´futiŋ] n.立脚点；基础；地位 (英语六级单词)
- passageway [´pæsidʒwei] n.走廊；过道 (英语六级单词)
- relentless [ri´lentləs] a.无情的；坚韧的 (英语六级单词)
- deception [di´sepʃən] n.欺骗，诈骗；骗术 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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