p&c.thunderhead-第49部分

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　〃Jesus；〃　Smithback　muttered。　
　Arbuckles　began　to　prance　and　whinny　beneath　her；　and　Nora　veered　left；　giving　the　carcasses　a　wide　berth　on　the　upwind　side。　Even　so；　as　they　passed　she　caught　a　brief　glimpse　of　coiled　ropes　of　entrails；　bluish…gray　and　steaming　in　the　sun；　webbed　in　black　traceries　of　flies。　Beyond　the　scene　of　the　massacre；　she　stopped。　
　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　Smithback　asked。　
　〃I'm　going　to　take　a　minute　to　look　more　closely。〃　
　〃Mind　if　I　stay　here？〃　Smithback　asked　in　a　strained　voice。　
　Dismounting　and　giving　her　reins　to　Smithback；　Nora　walked　back　over　the　rise。　The　flies；　disturbed　by　her　approach；　rose　in　a　roaring；　angry　mass。　The　high　winds　had　scoured　the　ground；　but　here　and　there　she　could　make　out　old　horse　tracks　and　some　fresher　coyote　prints。　Except　for　the　marks　of　Swire's　boots；　there　were　no　human　footprints。　As　Swire　had　said；　the　entrails　had　been　arranged　in　a　spiral　pattern。　Brightly　colored　macaw　feathers；　shockingly　out　of　place　in　the　arid　landscape；　protruded　from　the　eye　sockets。　The　carcasses　had　been　stabbed　with　some　painted　and　feathered　twigs。　
　As　she　was　about　to　turn　away；　she　noticed　something　else。　A　circular　patch　of　skin　had　been　cut　from　the　foreheads　of　both　horses。　Examining　these　more　closely；　Nora　saw　that　similar　patches　had　been　removed　symmetrically　from　a　spot　on　either　side　of　the　horse's　chests；　and　from　two　more　spots　on　either　side　of　their　lower　bellies。　Why　there？　What　could　this　possibly　mean？　
　She　shook　her　head　and　retreated　from　the　killing　ground。　
　〃Who　could　do　such　a　thing？〃　Smithback　asked　as　she　remounted。　
　Who　indeed？　It　was　the　question　Nora　had　been　asking　herself　for　the　last　hour。　The　answer　that　seemed　most　likely　was　too　frightening　to　contemplate。　
　Within　twenty　minutes　they　had　reached　the　base　of　the　ridge。　In　another　twenty；　following　the　gentle　trail　up；　they　crested　the　top　of　the　Devil's　Backbone。　Nora　brought　the　horses　to　a　stop　and　dismounted　again；　gazing　slowly　over　the　vista　ahead。　The　great　divide　looked　out　over　thousands　of　miles　of　slickrock　canyons。　To　the　north；　she　could　see　the　distant　blue　hump　of　Barney　Top；　and　to　the　northeast；　the　silent　sentinel　of　the　Kaiparowits。　
　And；　directly　ahead；　were　the　narrow　vicious　switchbacks　that　led　down　the　face　of　the　hogback　ridge。　Somewhere　at　the　bottom　lay　Fiddlehead；　Hurricane　Deck；　and　Beetlebum。　
　〃Tell　me　we're　not　really　going　down　that　again；〃　Smithback　said。　
　Nora　remained　silent。　She　dismounted　and　took　a　few　steps　from　the　horses；　scouring　the　patches　of　sand　that　lay　among　the　rocks。　There　were　no　signs　of　a　horse；　but　then；　the　wind　at　the　top　of　the　ridge　would　have　swept　them　away。　
　She　looked　back　down　the　way　they　had　e。　Though　she'd　kept　a　careful　lookout　as　they　climbed；　she　had　seen　nothing　but　old　hoofprints。　She　shivered；　she　knew　very　well　there　was　no　other　way　into　the　valley。　And　yet；　somehow；　the　mysterious　horse　killers　had　left　no　sign　of　their　passing。　
　Tearing　her　eyes　away；　she　looked　back　around　to　the　steep　trail　ahead　of　them；　leading　down　the　front　of　the　Devil's　Backbone。　It　seemed　to　simply　disappear　over　the　edge　into　sheer　space。　She　knew　it　was　always　more　dangerous　to　descend　than　to　ascend。　The　terrifying　memory　of　how　she'd　scrabbled　at　the　cliff　face；　feet　kicking　in　dead　space；　returned　with　redoubled　force。　She　rubbed　her　fingertips；　now　free　of　bandages　but　still　tingling　with　the　memory。　
　〃I'm　going　to　hike　down　a　ways　on　foot；〃　Nora　murmured。　〃You　wait　here。〃　
　〃Anything　to　stay　off　that　trail；〃　Smithback　said。　〃I　can't　imagine　a　worse　way　down　a　cliff　than　that。　Except　falling；　of　course。　And　at　least　that's　faster。〃　
　Nora　began　to　pick　her　way　down　the　steep　trail。　The　first　part；　all　slickrock；　not　surprisingly　showed　no　signs　of　the　mysterious　rider。　But　when　she　reached　the　rock　strewn　part　of　the　trail；　she　stopped：　there；　in　a　small　patch　of　sand；　was　a　fresh　hoofprint。　And　it　was　from　an　unshod　horse。　
　〃Are　we　going　down？〃　Smithback　asked　with　a　distinct　lack　of　enthusiasm　as　she　returned　to　the　top　of　the　ridge。　
　〃Yes；〃　she　replied。　〃Swire　wasn't　seeing　things。　Somebody　did　e　up　here　on　horseback。〃　
　She　took　a　deep　breath；　then　another。　And　then　she　began　carefully　down　the　ridge；　leading　Arbuckles。　The　horse　balked　at　the　lip　of　the　trail；　and　after　some　firm　coaxing　Nora　got　him　to　take　one　step；　and　then　another。　Smithback　followed；　leading　pa？ero。　Nora　could　hear　the　horse　snorting；　the　scrape　of　bare　hoof　on　stone。　She　kept　her　eyes　firmly　fixed　on　the　trail　ahead；　breathing　regularly；　trying　to　keep　them　from　straying　over　the　edge　into　the　infinite　space　below。　Once；　instinctively；　she　looked　over：　there　was　the　dry　valley　below；　the　strange　rock　formations　like　tiny　piles　of　pebbles；　the　stunted　junipers　mere　black　dots。　Arbuckles's　legs　were　shaking；　but　he　kept　his　head　down；　nose　to　the　ground；　and　they　inched　their　way　down。　Having　been　up　the　trail　before；　Nora　was　now　aware　of　the　most　difficult　spots；　and　worked　to　guide　her　horse　past　them　when　it　was　most　necessary。　
　Just　before　the　second　switchback；　Nora　heard　Arbuckles's　hooves　skid；　and　in　a　panic　she　dropped　the　lead　rope；　but　after　a　brief　scrabble　the　horse　stopped；　shaking。　Clearly；　the　unshod　hooves　had　better　purchase　on　the　trail。　As　she　bent　down　to　pick　up　the　rope；　two　crows；　riding　air　currents　up　the　face　of　the　cliff；　hovered　past　them。　They　were　so　close；　Nora　could　see　their　beady　eyes　swiveling　around　to　look　at　them。　One　let　fly　a　loud　croak　of　displeasure　as　he　passed　by。　
　After　twenty　more　heart…stopping　minutes；　Nora　found　herself　at　the　bottom　of　the　trail。　Turning；　she　saw　Smithback　make　the　last　pitch　to　the　bottom。　She　was　so　relieved　she　almost　felt　like　hugging　him。　
　Then　the　wind　shifted；　and　a　terrible　stench　reached　her　nostrils：　the　three　dead　horses；　lying　perhaps　fifty　yards　away；　draped　over　some　broken　boulders。　
　Whoever　had　e　this　way　would　no　doubt　have　inspected　those　horses。　
　Giving　Arbuckles's　reins　to　Smithback；　she　walked　in　the　direction　of　the　dead　horses；　fighting　rising　feelings　of　horror　and　guilt。　The　animals　lay　widely　scattered；　their　bellies　burst　open；　their　guts　thrown　across　the　rocks。　And　there；　too；　were　the　tracks　she　was　seeking：　the　tracks　of　the　unshod　horse。　To　her　surprise；　she　saw　the　tracks　had　not　e　up　from　the　south；　as　their　expedition　had；　but　led　instead　from　the　north：　in　the　direction　of　the　tiny　Indian　village　of　Nankoweap；　many　days'　ride　away。　
　〃The　trail　goes　north；〃　she　said　to　Smithback；　indicating　for　him　to　dismount。　
　〃I'm　impressed；〃　the　writer　replied　as　he　slipped　to　the　ground。　〃And　what　else　can　you　tell　about　the　trail？　Was　it　a　stallion　or　a　mare？　Was　it　a　pinto　or　a　palomino？〃　
　Nora　pulled　the　horseshoes　from　a　saddlebag　and　knelt　beside　Arbuckles。　〃I　can　tell　it　was　probably　an　Indian's　horse。〃　
　〃How　in　the　hell　can　you　tell　that？〃　
　〃Because　Indians　tend　to　ride　unshod　horses。　Anglos；　on　the　other　hand；　shoe　their　horses　from　the　moment　they　start　them　under　saddle。〃　She　fitted　the　shoes　to　Arbuckles's　hooves；　tapped　the　nails　through；　then　carefully　clinched　them　down。　Swire's　horses；　their　hooves　soft　from　years　of　wearing　horseshoes；　could　not　be　left　shoeless　a　moment　longer　than　necessary。　
　Smithback　pulled　out　the　gun　Swire　had　given　him；　checked　it；　then　replaced　it　in　his　jacket。　〃And　was　there　somebody　on　that　horse？〃　
　〃I'm　not　that　good　a　tracker。　But　I　sure　don't　think　Roscoe's　the　type　to　be　seeing　things。〃　
　Nora　fitted　the　shoes　onto　Smithback's　horse。　Then；　leading　Arbuckles　by　the　guide　rope；　she　began　following　the　single　track；　which　showed　two　sets　of　prints：　one　going；　the　other　ing。　Although　the　wind　had　scoured　small　sections　away；　the　trail　was　clearly　visible　as　it　wound　north　through　the　scattered　clumps　of　Mormon　tea　bushes。　For　a　while；　it　ran　along　the　base　of　the　hogback　ridge；　and　then　it　veered　away；　into　a　series　of　parallel　defiles　hemmed　in　by　low　ridges　of　a　black　volcanic　rock。　
　〃Where'd　you　learn　to　track；　anyway？〃　Smithback　asked。　〃I　didn't　know　the　Lone　Ranger　was　still　on　the　lecture　circuit。〃　
　Nora　shot　him　an　irritated　glance。　〃Is　this　for　your　book？〃　
　Smithback　looked　back　in　ical　surprise；　his　long　face　drooping。　〃No。　Well；　yes；　I　suppose。　Everything　is　fair　game。　But　mostly　I'm　just　curious。〃　
　Nora　sighed。　〃You　Easterners　think　tracking　is　some　kind　of　art；　or　maybe　some　instinctive　ethnic　skill。　But　unless　you're　tracking　across　rock；　buffalo　grass；　or　lava；　it's　not　all　that　difficult。　Just　follow　the　footprints　in　the　sand。〃　
　She　continued　northward；　Smithback's　voice　vexing　her　concentration。　〃I　can't　get　over　how　remote　this　land　is；〃　he　was　saying。　〃When　I　first　got　here；　I　couldn't　believe　how　ugly　and　barren　it　all　was；　not　at　all　like　the　Verde　Valley　where　I　went　to　school。　But　there's　something　almost　forting　in　its　spareness；　if　you　think　about　it。　Something　clean　in　the　emptiness。　Sort　of　like　a　Japanese　tea　room　in　that　way。　I've　been　studying　the　tea　ceremony　a　lot　this　last　year；　ever　since…〃　
　〃Say；　do　you　think　you　could　hobble　that　lip？〃　Nora　interrupted　in　exasperation。　〃You　could　talk　Jesus　out　of　going　to　heaven。〃　
　There　was　a　long　moment　of　blissful　silence。　Then　Smithback　spoke　again。　〃Nora；〃　he　asked　quietly；　〃what　is　it；　exactly；　you　don't　like　about　me？〃　
　Nora　stopped　at　this；　turning　toward　him　in　surprise。　The　writer　wore　a　serious　expression；　one　of　the　few　she　remembered　seeing　on　his　face。　He　stood；　silently；　in　the　shadow　of　pa？ero。　The　cowboy　clothes；　which　had　seemed　so　ridiculous　a　week　before；　had　now　bee　a　real　working　outfit；　creased　and　dusty；　well　suited　to　his　long　frame。　The　pasty　plexion　was　gone；　replaced　by　a　ruddy　tan　that　matched　his　brown　hair。　She　realized；　with　a　small　shock；　that　this　was　the　first　time　she　had　heard　him　call　her　by　name　instead　of　the　odious　〃Madame　Chairman。〃　And　although　she　couldn't　analyze　it…and　didn't　have　the　time；　even　if　she　felt　inclined　to　do　so…a　part　of　her　was　pleased　to　think　Smithback　was　concerned　about　how　she　felt　about　him。　
　Nora　opened　her　mouth　to　reply：　You　mean；　other　than　the　fact　that　you're　a　brash；　smug　guy　with　an　ego