cabin fever-第20部分

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aguely　in　a　wide　sweep　that　would　have　kept　a　compass　needle　revolving　if　it　tried　to　follow　and　was　not　calculated　to　be　particularly　enlightening。

〃Lo…ong　ways；〃　she　crooned；　and　her　voice　was　the　first　attractive　thing　Bud　had　discovered　about　her。　It　was　pure　melody；　soft　and　pensive　as　the　cooing　of　a　wood　dove。

〃Who　belongs　to　it？〃　Bud　was　plainly　suspicious。　The　shake　of　the　squaw's　bandannaed　head　was　more　artfully　vague　than　her　gesture。　〃Don'　knowmodder　diefadder　dieketchum　long　waysoff。〃

〃Well；　what's　its　name？〃　Bud's　voice　harshened　with　his　growing　interest　and　bewilderment。　The　baby　was　again　covering　one　twinkling　eye　with　its　spread；　pink　palm；　and　was　saying　〃Pik…k？〃　and　laughing　with　the　funniest　little　squint　to　its　nose　that　Bud　had　ever　seen。　It　was　so　absolutely　demoralizing　that　to　relieve　himself　Bud　gave　the　squaw　a　shake。　This　tickled　the　baby　so　much　that　the　chuckle　burst　into　a　rollicking　laugh；　with　a　catch　of　the　breath　after　each　crescendo　tone　that　made　it　absolutely　individual　and　like　none　othersave　one。

〃What's　his　name？〃　Bud　bullied　the　squaw；　though　his　eyes　were　on　the　baby。

〃Don't　know　？〃

〃TakeUvinChal；〃　the　baby　demanded　imperiously。

〃Uhuhuh？　Take！〃

〃Uvin　Chal？　Now　what'd　yuh　mean　by　that；　oletimer？〃　Bud　obeyed　an　overpowering　impulse　to　reach　out　and　touch　the　baby's　cheek　with　a　mittened　thumb。　The　baby　responded　instantly　by　again　demanding　that　Bud　should　take。

〃Pik…k？〃　said　Bud；　a　mitten　over　one　eye。

〃Pik…k？〃　said　the　baby；　spreading　his　fat　hand　again　and　twinkling　at　Bud　between　his　fingers。　But　immediately　afterwards　it　gave　a　little；　piteous　whimper。　〃TakeUvin　Chal！〃　it　beseeched　Bud　with　voice　and　starlike　blue　eyes　together。　〃Take！〃

There　was　that　in　the　baby's　tone；　in　the　unbaby…like　insistence　of　its　bright　eyes；　which　compelled　obedience。　Bud　had　never　taken　a　baby　of　that　age　in　his　arms。　He　was　always　in　fear　of　dropping　it；　or　crushing　it　with　his　man's　strength；　or　something。　He　liked　themat　a　safe　distance。　He　would　chuck　one　under　the　chin；　or　feel　diffidently　the　soft　little　cheek；　but　a　closer　familiarity　scared　him。　Yet　when　this　baby　wriggled　its　other　arm　loose　and　demanded　him　to　take；　Bud　reached　out　and　grasped　its　plump　little　red…sweatered　body　firmly　under　the　armpits　and　drew　it　forth；　squirming　with　eagerness。

〃Well；　I'll　tell　the　world　I　don't　blame　yuh　for　wanting　to　git　outa　that　hog's　nest；〃　said　Bud；　answering　the　baby's　gleeful　chuckle。

Freed　from　his　detaining　grip　on　her　shoulder；　the　squaw　ducked　unexpectedly　and　scuttled　away　down　the　trail　as　fast　as　her　old　legs　would　carry　her；　which　was　surprisingly　speedy　for　one　of　her　bulk。　Bud　had　opened　his　mouth　to　ask　her　again　where　she　had　gotten　that　baby。　He　left　it　open　while　he　stared　after　her　astonished　until　the　baby　put　up　a　hand　over　one　of　Bud's　eyes　and　said　〃Pik…k？〃　with　that　distracting　little　quirk　at　the　corners　of　its　lips。

〃You　son　of　a　gun！〃　grinned　Bud；　in　the　tone　that　turned　the　epithet　in　to　a　caress。　〃You　dog　gone　little　devil；　you！　Pik…k！　then；　if　that's　what　you　want。〃

The　squaw　had　disappeared　into　the　thick　under　growth；　leaving　a　track　like　a　hippo　in　the　snow。　Bud　could　have　overtaken　her；　of　course；　and　he　could　have　made　her　take　the　baby　back　again。　But　he　could　not　face　the　thought　of　it。　He　made　no　move　at　all　toward　pursuit；　but　instead　he　turned　his　face　toward　Alpine；　with　some　vague　intention　of　turning　the　baby　over　to　the　hotel　woman　there　and　getting　the　authorities　to　hunt　up　its　parents。　It　was　plain　enough　that　the　squaw　had　no　right　to　it；　else　she　would　not　have　run　off　like　that。

Bud　walked　at　least　a　rod　toward　Alpine　before　he　swung　short　around　in　his　tracks　and　started　the　other　way。　〃No；　I'll　be　doggoned　if　I　will！〃　he　said。　〃You　can't　tell　about　women；　no　time。　She　might　spank　the　kid；　or　something。　Or　maybe　she　wouldn't　feed　it　enough。　Anyway；　it's　too　cold；　and　it's　going　to　storm　pretty　pronto。　Hey！　Yuh　cold。　old…timer？〃

The　baby　whimpered　a　little　and　snuggled　its　face　down　against　Bud's　chest。　So　Bud　lifted　his　foot　and　scraped　some　snow　off　a　nearby　log；　and　set　the　baby　down　there　while　he　took　off　his　coat　and　wrapped　it　around　him；　buttoning　it　like　a　bag　over　arms　and　all。　The　baby　watched　him　knowingly；　its　eyes　round　and　dark　blue　and　shining；　and　gave　a　contented　little　wriggle　when　Bud　picked　it　up　again　in　his　arms。

〃Now　you're　all　right　till　we　get　to　where　it's　warm；〃　Bud　assured　it　gravely。　〃And　we'll　do　some　steppin'；　believe　me。　I　guess　maybe　you　ain't　any　more　crazy　over　that　Injun　smell　on　yuh；　than　what　I　amand　that　ain't　any　at　all。〃　He　walked　a　few　steps　farther　before　he　added　grimly；　〃It'll　be　some　jolt　for　Cash；　doggone　his　skin。　He'll　about　bust；　I　reckon。　But　we　don't　give　a　darn。　Let　him　bust　if　he　wants　tohalf　the　cabin's　mine；　anyway。〃

So；　talking　a　few　of　his　thoughts　aloud　to　the　baby；　that　presently　went　to　sleep　with　its　face　against　his　shoulder；　Bud　tramped　steadily　through　the　snow；　carrying　Lovin　Child　in　his　arms。　No　remote　glimmer　of　the　wonderful　thing　Fate　had　done　for　him　seeped　into　his　consciousness；　but　there　was　a　new；　warm　glow　in　his　heartthe　warmth　that　came　from　a　child's　unquestioning　faith　in　his　protecting　tenderness。



CHAPTER　FOURTEEN。　CASH　GETS　A　SHOCK

It　happened　that　Cash　was　just　returning　to　the　cabin　from　the　Blind　Ledge　claim。　He　met　Bud　almost　at　the　doorstep；　just　as　Bud　was　fumbling　with　the　latch；　trying　to　open　the　door　without　moving　Lovin　Child　in　his　arms。　Cash　may　or　may　not　have　been　astonished。　Certainly　he　did　not　betray　by　more　than　one　quick　glance　that　he　was　interested　in　Bud's　return　or　in　the　mysterious　burden　he　bore。　He　stepped　ahead　of　Bud　and　opened　the　door　without　a　word；　as　if　he　always　did　it　just　in　that　way；　and　went　inside。

Bud　followed　him　in　silence；　stepped　across　the　black　line　to　his　own　side　of　the　room　and　laid　Lovin　Child　carefully　down　so　as　not　to　waken　him。　He　unbuttoned　the　coat　he　had　wrapped　around　him；　pulled　off　the　concealing　red　cap　and　stared　down　at　the　pale　gold；　silky　hair　and　the　adorable　curve　of　the　soft　cheek　and　the　lips　with　the　dimples　tricked　in　at　the　corners；　the　lashes　lying　like　the　delicate　strokes　of　an　artist's　pencil　under　the　closed　eyes。　For　at　least　five　minutes　he　stood　without　moving；　his　whole　face　softened　into　a　boyish　wistfulness。　By　the　stove　Cash　stood　and　stared　from　Bud　to　the　sleeping　baby；　his　bushy　eyebrows　lifted；　his　gray　eyes　a　study　of　incredulous　bewilderment。

Then　Bud　drew　a　long　breath　and　seemed　about　to　move　away　from　the　bank；　and　Cash　turned　abruptly　to　the　stove　and　lifted　a　rusty　lid　and　peered　into　the　cold　firebox；　frowning　as　though　he　was　expecting　to　see　fire　and　warmth　where　only　a　sprinkle　of　warm　ashes　remained。　Stubbornness　held　him　mute　and　outwardly　indifferent。　He　whittled　shavings　and　started　a　fire　in　the　cook　stove；　filled　the　teakettle　and　set　it　on　to　boil；　got　out　the　side　of　bacon　and　cut　three　slices；　and　never　once　looked　toward　the　bunk。　Bud　might　have　brought　home　a　winged　angel；　or　a　rainbow；　or　a　casket　of　jewels；　and　Cash　would　not　have　permitted　himself　to　show　any　human　interest。

But　when　Bud　went　teetering　from　the　cabin　on　his　toes　to　bring　in　some　pine　cones　they　had　saved　for　quick　kindling；　Cash　craned　his　neck　toward　the　little　bundle　on　the　bunk。　He　saw　a　fat；　warm　little　hand　stir　with　some　baby　dream。　He　listened　and　heard　soft　breathing　that　stopped　just　short　of　being　an　infantile　snore。　He　made　an　errand　to　his　own　bunk　and　from　there　inspected　the　mystery　at　closer　range。　He　saw　a　nose　and　a　little；　knobby　chin　and　a　bit　of　pinkish　forehead　with　the　pale　yellow　of　hair　above。　He　leaned　and　cocked　his　head　to　one　aide　to　see　morebut　at　that　moment　he　heard　Bud　stamping　off　the　snow　from　his　feet　on　the　doorstep；　and　he　took　two　long；　noiseless　strides　to　the　dish　cupboard　and　was　fumbling　there　with　his　back　to　the　bunk　when　Bud　came　tiptoeing　in。

Bud　started　a　fire　in　the　fireplace　and　heaped　the　dry　limbs　high。　Cash　fried　his　bacon；　made　his　tea；　and　set　the　table　for　his　midday　meal。　Bud　waited　for　the　baby　to　wake；　looking　at　his　watch　every　minute　or　two；　and　making　frequent　cautious　trips　to　the　bunk；　peeking　and　peering　to　see　if　the　child　was　all　right。　It　seemed　unnatural　that　it　should　sleep　so　long　in　the　daytime。　No　telling　what　that　squaw　had　done　to　it；　she　might　have　doped　it　or　something。　He　thought　the　kid's　face　looked　red；　as　if　it　had　fever；　and　he　reached　down　and　touched　anxiously　the　hand　that　was　uncovered。　The　hand　was　warmtoo　warm；　in　Bud's　opinion。　It　would　be　just　his　luck　if　the　kid　got　sick；　he'd　have　to　pack　it　clear　in　to　Alpine　in　his　arms。　Fifteen　miles　of　that　did　not　appeal　to　Bud；　whose　arms　ached　after　the　two…mile　trip　with　that　solid　little　body　lying　at　ease　in　the　cradle　they　made。

His　back　to　that　end　of　the　room；　Cash　sat　stiff…necked　and　stubbornly　speechless；　and　ate　and　drank　as　though　he　were　alone　in　the　cabin。　Whenever　Bud's　mind　left　Lovin　Child　long　enough　to　think　about　it；　he　watched　Cash　furtively　for　some　sign　of　yielding；　some　softening　of　that　grim　grudge。　It　seemed　to　him　as　though　Cash　was　not　human；　or　he　would　show　some　signs　of　life　when　a　live　baby　was　brought　to　camp　and　laid　down　right　under　his　nose。

Cash　finished　and　began　washing　his　dishes；　keeping　his　back　turned　toward　Bud　and　Bud's　new　possession；　and　trying　to　make　it　appear　that　he　did　so　unconsciously。　He　did　not　fool　Bud　for　a　minute。　Bud　knew　that　Cash　was　nearly　bursting　with　curiosity；　and　he　had　occasional　fleeting　impulses　to　provoke　Cash　to　speech　of　some　sort。　Perhaps　Cash　knew　what　was　in　Bud's　mind。　At　any　rate　he　left　the　cabin　and　went　out　and　chopped　wood　for　an　hour；　furiously　raining　chips　into　the　snow。

When　he　went　in　with　his　arms　piled　full　of　cut　wood；　Bud　had　the　baby　sitting　on　one　corner　of　the　table；　and　was　feeding　it　bread　and　gravy　as　the　nearest　approach　to　baby　food　he　could　think　of。　During　occasional　interludes　in　the　steady　procession　of　bits　of　bread　from　the　plate　to　the　baby's　mouth；　Lovin　Child　would　suck　a　bacon　rind　which　he　held　firmly　grasped　in　a　greasy　little　fist。　Now　and　then　Bud　would　reach　into　his　hip　pocke