the man of the forest-第37部分

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was　habit　for　him　and　needed　no　application　of　mind。

And　Dale；　like　some　men　of　lonely　wilderness　lives　who　did
not　retrograde　toward　the　savage；　was　a　thinker。　　Love　made
him　a　sufferer。

The　surprise　and　shame　of　his　unconscious　surrender；　the
certain　hopelessness　of　it；　the　long　years　of　communion　with
all　that　was　wild；　lonely；　and　beautiful；　the　wonderfully
developed　insight　into　nature's　secrets；　and　the
sudden…dawning　revelation　that　he　was　no　omniscient　being
exempt　from　the　ruthless　ordinary　destiny　of　man　　all
these　showed　him　the　strength　of　his　manhood　and　of　his
passion；　and　that　the　life　he　had　chosen　was　of　all　lives
the　one　calculated　to　make　love　sad　and　terrible。

Helen　Rayner　haunted　him。　　In　the　sunlight　there　was　not　a
place　around　camp　which　did　not　picture　her　lithe；　vigorous
body；　her　dark；　thoughtful　eyes；　her　eloquent；　resolute
lips；　and　the　smile　that　was　so　sweet　and　strong。　　At　night
she　was　there　like　a　slender　specter；　pacing　beside　him
under　the　moaning　pines。　　Every　camp…fire　held　in　its　heart
the　glowing　white　radiance　of　her　spirit。

Nature　had　taught　Dale　to　love　solitude　and　silence；　but
love　itself　taught　him　their　meaning。　　Solitude　had　been
created　for　the　eagle　on　his　crag；　for　the　blasted　mountain
fir；　lonely　and　gnarled　on　its　peak；　for　the　elk　and　the
wolf。　　But　it　had　not　been　intended　for　man。　　And　to　live
always　in　the　silence　of　wild　places　was　to　become　obsessed
with　self　　to　think　and　dream　　to　be　happy；　which　state；
however　pursued　by　man；　was　not　good　for　him。　　Man　must　be
given　imperious　longings　for　the　unattainable。

It　needed；　then；　only　the　memory　of　an　unattainable　woman　to
render　solitude　passionately　desired　by　a　man；　yet　almost
unendurable。　　Dale　was　alone　with　his　secret；　and　every　pine；
everything　in　that　park　saw　him　shaken　and　undone。

In　the　dark；　pitchy　deadness　of　night；　when　there　was　no
wind　and　the　cold　on　the　peaks　had　frozen　the　waterfall；
then　the　silence　seemed　insupportable。　　Many　hours　that
should　have　been　given　to　slumber　were　paced　out　under　the
cold；　white；　pitiless　stars；　under　the　lonely　pines。

Dale's　memory　betrayed　him；　mocked　his　restraint；　cheated
him　of　any　peace；　and　his　imagination；　sharpened　by　love；
created　pictures；　fancies；　feelings；　that　drove　him　frantic。

He　thought　of　Helen　Rayner's　strong；　shapely　brown　hand。　　In
a　thousand　different　actions　it　haunted　him。　　How　quick　and
deft　in　camp…fire　tasks！　　how　graceful　and　swift　as　she
plaited　her　dark　hair！　　how　tender　and　skilful　in　its
ministration　when　one　of　his　pets　had　been　injured！　　how
eloquent　when　pressed　tight　against　her　breast　in　a　moment
of　fear　on　the　dangerous　heights！　　how　expressive　of
unutterable　things　when　laid　on　his　arm！

Dale　saw　that　beautiful　hand　slowly　creep　up　his　arm；　across
his　shoulder；　and　slide　round　his　neck　to　clasp　there。　　He
was　powerless　to　inhibit　the　picture。　　And　what　he　felt　then
was　boundless；　unutterable。　　No　woman　had　ever　yet　so　much　as
clasped　his　hand；　and　heretofore　no　such　imaginings　had　ever
crossed　his　mind；　yet　deep　in　him；　somewhere　hidden；　had
been　this　waiting；　sweet；　and　imperious　need。　　In　the　bright
day　he　appeared　to　ward　off　such　fancies；　but　at　night　he
was　helpless。　　And　every　fancy　left　him　weaker；　wilder。

When；　at　the　culmination　of　this　phase　of　his　passion；　Dale；
who　had　never　known　the　touch　of　a　woman's　lips；　suddenly
yielded　to　the　illusion　of　Helen　Rayner's　kisses；　he　found
himself　quite　mad；　filled　with　rapture　and　despair；　loving
her　as　he　hated　himself。　　It　seemed　as　if　he　had　experienced
all　these　terrible　feelings　in　some　former　life　and　had
forgotten　them　in　this　life。　　He　had　no　right　to　think　of
her；　but　he　could　not　resist　it。　　Imagining　the　sweet
surrender　of　her　lips　was　a　sacrilege；　yet　here；　in　spite　of
will　and　honor　and　shame；　he　was　lost。

Dale；　at　length；　was　vanquished；　and　he　ceased　to　rail　at
himself；　or　restrain　his　fancies。　　He　became　a　dreamy；
sad…eyed；　camp…fire　gazer；　like　many　another　lonely　man；
separated；　by　chance　or　error；　from　what　the　heart　hungered
most　for。　　But　this　great　experience；　when　all　its
significance　had　clarified　in　his　mind；　immeasurably
broadened　his　understanding　of　the　principles　of　nature
applied　to　life。

Love　had　been　in　him　stronger　than　in　most　men；　because　of
his　keen；　vigorous；　lonely　years　in　the　forest；　where　health
of　mind　and　body　were　intensified　and　preserved。　　How　simple；
how　natural；　how　inevitable！　　He　might　have　loved　any
fine…spirited；　healthy…bodied　girl。　　Like　a　tree　shooting　its
branches　and　leaves；　its　whole　entity；　toward　the　sunlight；
so　had　he　grown　toward　a　woman's　love。　　Why？　　Because　the
thing　he　revered　in　nature；　the　spirit；　the　universal；　the
life　that　was　God；　had　created　at　his　birth　or　before　his
birth　the　three　tremendous　instincts　of　nature　　to　fight
for　life；　to　feed　himself；　to　reproduce　his　kind。　　That　was
all　there　was　to　it。　　But　oh！　　the　mystery；　the　beauty；　the
torment；　and　the　terror　of　this　third　instinct　　this
hunger　for　the　sweetness　and　the　glory　of　a　woman's　love！



CHAPTER　XVI

Helen　Rayner　dropped　her　knitting　into　her　lap　and　sat
pensively　gazing　out　of　the　window　over　the　bare　yellow
ranges　of　her　uncle's　ranch。

The　winter　day　was　bright；　but　steely；　and　the　wind　that
whipped　down　from　the　white…capped　mountains　had　a　keen；
frosty　edge。　　A　scant　snow　lay　in　protected　places；　cattle
stood　bunched　in　the　lee　of　ridges；　low　sheets　of　dust
scurried　across　the　flats。

The　big　living…room　of　the　ranch…house　was　warm　and
comfortable　with　its　red　adobe　walls；　its　huge　stone
fireplace　where　cedar　logs　blazed；　and　its　many…colored
blankets。　　Bo　Rayner　sat　before　the　fire；　curled　up　in　an
armchair；　absorbed　in　a　book。　　On　the　floor　lay　the　hound
Pedro；　his　racy；　fine　head　stretched　toward　the　warmth。

〃Did　uncle　call？〃　asked　Helen；　with　a　start　out　of　her
reverie。

〃I　didn't　hear　him；〃　replied　Bo。

Helen　rose　to　tiptoe　across　the　floor；　and；　softly　parting
some　curtains；　she　looked　into　the　room　where　her　uncle　lay。
He　was　asleep。　　Sometimes　he　called　out　in　his　slumbers。　　For
weeks　now　he　had　been　confined　to　his　bed；　slowly　growing
weaker。　　With　a　sigh　Helen　returned　to　her　window…seat　and
took　up　her　work。

〃Bo；　the　sun　is　bright；〃　she　said。　　〃The　days　are　growing
longer。　　I'm　so　glad。〃

〃Nell；　you're　always　wishing　time　away。　　For　me　it　passes
quickly　enough；〃　replied　the　sister。

〃But　I　love　spring　and　summer　and　fall　　and　I　guess　I　hate
winter；〃　returned　Helen；　thoughtfully。

The　yellow　ranges　rolled　away　up　to　the　black　ridges　and
they　in　turn　swept　up　to　the　cold；　white　mountains。　　Helen's
gaze　seemed　to　go　beyond　that　snowy　barrier。　　And　Bo's　keen
eyes　studied　her　sister's　earnest；　sad　face。

〃Nell；　do　you　ever　think　of　Dale？〃　she　queried；　suddenly。

The　question　startled　Helen。　　A　slow　blush　suffused　neck　and
cheek。

〃Of　course；〃　she　replied；　as　if　surprised　that　Bo　should　ask
such　a　thing。

〃I　　I　shouldn't　have　asked　that；〃　said　Bo；　softly；　and
then　bent　again　over　her　book。

Helen　gazed　tenderly　at　that　bright；　bowed　head。　　In　this
swift…flying；　eventful；　busy　winter；　during　which　the
management　of　the　ranch　had　devolved　wholly　upon　Helen；　the
little　sister　had　grown　away　from　her。　　Bo　had　insisted　upon
her　own　free　will　and　she　had　followed　it；　to　the　amusement
of　her　uncle；　to　the　concern　of　Helen；　to　the　dismay　and
bewilderment　of　the　faithful　Mexican　housekeeper；　and　to　the
undoing　of　all　the　young　men　on　the　ranch。

Helen　had　always　been　hoping　and　waiting　for　a　favorable
hour　in　which　she　might　find　this　wilful　sister　once　more
susceptible　to　wise　and　loving　influence。　　But　while　she
hesitated　to　speak；　slow　footsteps　and　a　jingle　of　spurs
sounded　without；　and　then　came　a　timid　knock。　　Bo　looked　up
brightly　and　ran　to　open　the　door。

〃Oh！　　It's　only　　YOU！〃　she　uttered；　in　withering　scorn；　to
the　one　who　knocked。

Helen　thought　she　could　guess　who　that　was。

〃How　are　you…all？〃　asked　a　drawling　voice。

〃Well；　Mister　Carmichael；　if　that　interests　you　　I'm　quite
ill；〃　replied　Bo；　freezingly。

〃Ill！　　Aw　no；　now？〃

〃It's　a　fact。　　If　I　don't　die　right　off　I'll　have　to　be　taken
back　to　Missouri；〃　said　Bo；　casually。

〃Are　you　goin'　to　ask　me　in？〃　queried　Carmichael；　bluntly。
〃It's　cold　　an'　I've　got　somethin'　to　say　to　〃

〃To　ME？　　Well；　you're　not　backward；　I　declare；〃　retorted　Bo。

〃Miss　Rayner；　I　reckon　it　'll　be　strange　to　you　　findin'
out　I　didn't　come　to　see　you。〃

〃Indeed！　　No。　　But　what　was　strange　was　the　deluded　idea　I　had
　that　you　meant　to　apologize　to　me　　like　a　gentleman。　。
。　e　in；　Mr。　　Carmichael。　　My　sister　is　here。〃

The　door　closed　as　Helen　turned　round。　　Carmichael　stood　just
inside　with　his　sombrero　in　hand；　and　as　he　gazed　at　Bo　his
lean　face　seemed　hard。　　In　the　few　months　since　autumn　he　had
changed　　aged；　it　seemed；　and　the　once　young；　frank；
alert；　and　careless　cowboy　traits　had　merged　into　the　making
of　a　man。　　Helen　knew　just　how　much　of　a　man　he　really　was。
He　had　been　her　mainstay　during　all　the　complex　working　of
the　ranch　that　had　fallen　upon　her　shoulders。

〃Wal；　I　reckon　you　was　deluded；　all　right　　if　you　thought
I'd　crawl　like　them　other　lovers　of　yours；〃　he　said；　with
cool　deliberation。

Bo　turned　pale；　and　her　eyes　fairly　blazed；　yet　even　in　what
must　have　been　her　fury　Helen　saw　amaze　and　pain。

〃OTHER　lovers？　　I　think　the　biggest　delusion　here　is　the　way
you　flatter　yourself；〃　replied　Bo；　stingingly。

〃Me　flatter　myself？　　Nope。　　You　don't　savvy　me。　　I'm　shore
hatin'　myself　these　days。〃

〃Small　wonder。　　I　certainly　hate　you　　with　all　my　heart！〃

At　this　retort　the　cowboy　dropped　his　head　and　did　not　see
Bo　flaunt　herself　out　of　the　room。　　But　he　heard　the　door
close；　and　then　slowly　came　toward　Helen。

〃Cheer　up；　Las　Vegas；〃　said　Helen；　smiling。　　〃Bo's
hot…tempered。〃

〃Miss　Nell；　I'm　just　like　a　dog。　　The　meaner　she　treats　me
the　more　I　love　her；〃　he　replied；　dejectedly。

To　Helen's　first　instinct　of　liking　for　this　cowboy　there
had　been　added　admiration；　respect；　and　a　growing
appreciation　of　strong；　faithful；　developing　character。
Carmichael's　face　and　han