lla.theburninghills-第6部分

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ind　the　killers　of　Johnny　Hendrix　and　to　take　from　them；　if　possible；　the　price　of　his　stolen　horses。
　He　was　awake　with　the　sun。　He　ate；　then　drank　deep　at　the　spring。　He　flexed　his　muscles；　tightening　and　relaxing　them；　working　his　fingers　to　keep　them　supple。　When　the　sun　came　up　he　moved　from　the　overhang　to　lie　in　the　warmth　and　sunlight。　Later　he　started　to　crawl　to　the　cliff…edge　but　gave　it　up。　He　was　too　weak。
　The　big　red　horse　fed　on　the　rich　grass　at　the　back　part　of　the　ledge。　He　was　invisible　unless　he　got　to　the　edge　of　the　brush　along　the　rim。
　The　day　drew　on　slowly　。。。
　Whatever　Maria　Cristina　had　used　in　that　poultice；　it　had　taken　the　inflammation　from　his　wound。　When　he　examined　it　before　bathing；　he　saw　it　looked　much　better；　although　still　an　ugly　gash。
　From　his　saddlebags　he　got　his　glasses。　They　were　a　strong　pair　of　binoculars　purchased　at　an　army　post；　handy　in　hunting　stray　cattle　or　wild　horses。　He　studied　the　terrain　to　know　it　better；　trying　to　learn　the　trend　of　the　canyons　。。。　it　was　well　along　in　the　morning　when　his　eyes　caught　a　momentary　reflection　on　the　cliff　opposite。
　Well　below　his　own　position；　it　was　high　above　the　sheep。　When　he　had　watched　the　place　for　a　long　time　he　decided　his　eyes　had　been　mistaken　or　it　had　been　sunlight　reflected　from　a　bit　of　shale　dislodged　by　some　scurrying　rabbit　or　pack　rat。　There　was　nothing　there　。　。　。　and　then　he　saw　it　again。
　It　was　a　scant　movement　that　alerted　him。　He　swung　his　glasses　back　over　ground　previously　examined。
　The　spot　seemed　to　offer　no　concealment；　yet　there　might　be　some　shallow　place　in　the　ground　where　a　man　might　lie。　A　man　who　would　be　invisible　until　he　moved。　And　then　he　saw　him；　a　lean　old　man　with　sharp　hatchet　features；　a　man　who　could　only　be　Jacob　Lantz。　He　lowered　his　glasses；　knowing　the　danger　of　looking　too　directly　at　a　man。　Such　men　had　a　sharp　awareness　that　warned　them　when　they　were　watched。　Maria　Cristina　was　with　the　sheep。　The　boy　was　off　gathering　sticks　for　the　bundle　they　would　take　home　behind　the　saddle　at　night。　Did　she　know　Lantz　was　on　the　cliff？　Trace　tried　to　think　of　some　way　to　warn　her　without　at　the　same　time　revealing　his　own　presence　and　it　was　impossible。　He　would　only　wait　and　trust　to　the　girl's　innate　good　sense。
　He　tried　to　judge　the　distance　to　where　Lantz　lay。　Four　hundred　yards？　It　was　across　the　canyon　and　down　toward　the　Chavero　home　。。。　no；　closer　to　six　or　seven　hundred。
　He　got　his　rifle　and　checked　the　chamber　to　see　if　a　shell　was　ready；　then　put　it　aside。　He　sighted　down　the　rifle　barrel　first；　trying　to　estimate　the　drop　of　the　bullet。　Shooting　downhill　could　be　deceptive。　That　might　e　but　it　must　be　as　a　last　resort。
　Twice　Maria　Cristina　got　to　her　feet。　Each　time　she　walked　purposefully　and　each　time　Lantz　moved　swiftly　along　the　cliff　to　keep　her　in　sight。　Once　she　gathered　wood；　another　time　it　was　squaw　cabbage　for　an　evening　meal。　Returning　to　the　shade；　she　sat　there　a　few　minutes；　then　got　up　and　walked　directly　to　a　place　under　the　cliff　where　Lantz　stood　but　where　she　would　be　invisible　to　the　old　tracker。
　Puzzled；　Jordan　tried　to　imagine　her　purpose。　It　came　to　him　suddenly。　Maria　Cristina　knew　Lantz　was　watching　and　was　deliberately　tormenting　him！
　There　was　now　no　possible　way　in　which　he　could　see　what　she　was　doing　and　to　a　man　of　Lantz's　mind　there　could　be　nothing　worse。　She　might　actually　be　with　the　hunted　man；　she　might　be　sending　him　a　signal；　she　might　be　hiding　food　for　him。
　On　the　hillside　Lantz　was　restless　but　the　girl　sat　quietly　sewing　under　the　cliff。　Yet　she　had　been　there　only　a　few　minutes　when　the　young　man　on　the　paint　pony　rode　up。　This；　although　Jordan　did　not　know；　was　Vicente。
　Vicente　drew　rein　near　where　Maria　Cristina　sat　and　waited　for　her　to　speak。　When　she　said　nothing；　Vicente　said；　〃They　are　still　here。〃
　She　made　no　reply。　Maria　Cristina　loved　her　brother　but　his　weakness　angered　her。
　〃Do　you　know　where　he　is？〃
　〃Who？　Of　whom　do　you　speak？〃
　〃The　man　they　seek。　This　Jordan。〃
　〃What　do　I　know？　Until　now　I　did　not　even　know　his　name。〃
　Vicente　stared　uneasily　at　his　sister。　She　was　simple　like　Rosa；　his　Navajo　wife。　He　understood　Rosa；　he　also　understood　his　mother。　This　one　was　different。　Perhaps　it　was　because　she　had　married　that　gringo　and　gone　away　to　live　in　cities　。。。　but　no；　she　had　always　been　a　strange　one。
　She　would　walk　out　with　no　man；　yet　when　she　went　to　town　she　swished　her　skirts　at　them。　This　was　not　good。　Sometime　he　would　have　to　kill　somebody　over　her。　Why　did　she　not　take　a　man　like　other　women？　A　woman　without　a　man　was　nobody。
　And　she　knew　something　about　the　man　they　hunted。　The　knowledge　frightened　him。　If　Jack　Sutton　or　Ben　Hindeman　found　they　had　been　helping　the　wounded　man；　they　would　kill　all　of　them；　every　one。　Or　they　would　kill　Maria　Cristina。
　If　they　tried　that；　he；　Vicente；　must　fight。　And　he　did　not　want　to　fight。　He　was　only　one　man　and　there　were　many　of　the　others。
　Maria　Cristina　knew　what　her　brother　was　thinking。　She　even　knew　what　Jacob　Lantz　was　thinking　and　she　had　known　since　early　morning　that　he　was　on　the　hillside。　She　had　known　he　would　be　there　and；　knowing　all　this　canyon；　she　soon　knew　exactly　where　he　was。　It　was　not　a　problem　yet。　The　man　up　there　had　food　and　there　was　water。　If　necessary　he　could　manage　at　least　two　days　alone。
　When　she　had　first　e　upon　him　she　believed　him　dead。　Had　she　left　him　alone　then；　he　would　now　be　dead　and　no　problem　at　all。　And　he　was　a　gringo。
　This　stranger　was　nothing　to　her。　She　had　no　liking　for　any　North　American。　Only　her　husband　。。。　he　had　been　kind；　even　when　drunk。　Always　a　gentleman；　too。　Even　now；　remembering　all　his　weakness；　she　had　a　queer　respect　for　him。
　That　one　up　there　。。。　he　was　not　weak。　Nor　was　he　soft。　She　remembered　his　guns。　They　were　cared　for。　His　jeans　were　polished　where　the　holster　chafed　。。。　this　was　a　man　who　had　lived　with　a　gun。
　She　turned　her　thoughts　from　him。　He　would　be　all　right；　that　one。　When　his　strength　returned　he　could　ride。　That　would　be　an　end　of　him　。。。　and　good　riddance。
　Vicente　was　restless。　He　sat　the　worn　saddle　and　rolled　a　cigarette。　He　liked　the　sunlight　on　his　back。　He　did　not　know　they　were　watched　but　knew　they　must　be。　He　drew　deep　on　the　cigarette　and　Maria　Cristina　looked　up　at　him。　There　was　only　that　to　be　said　for　him。　The　way　he　sat　a　horse　and　wore　a　gun。　〃I　think　you　too　much　frighten；　Vicente。　You　。。。　who　are　good　with　a　gun。　I　think　you　better　than　Jack　Sutton。〃
　Vicente　was　so　astonished　that　he　rode　away。　It　was　the　first　time　Maria　Cristina　had　said　one　word　of　praise　to　him。　But　better　than　Jack　Sutton？　No　。。。　no；　it　could　not　be。　Yet　the　thought　remained。　She　believed　he　could　do　it。
　All　that　night　and　the　day　following　Trace　Jordan　lay　quiet　and　rested。　He　nibbled　at　his　food；　drank　a　lot　and　slept。　His　thoughts　reverted　to　Maria　Cristina。　There　was　a　kind　of　strong　fierce　pride　about　her　that　got　into　a　man's　blood；　no　matter　how　sullen　she　might　seem。
　At　dusk　three　riders　appeared　on　the　crest；　out　of　the　canyon　below。　Lantz　slipped　out　of　his　hiding　place　on　some　signal　and　went　to　meet　them。　Jordan　watched；　but　without　the　glasses；　for　the　sunlight　was　shining　into　the　shelf　and　he　was　afraid　a　reflection；　even　from　behind　the　brush；　might　warn　of　his　presence。
　The　sheep　were　starting　home。　He　looked　again　quickly。　Maria　Cristina　was　not　with　them！
　Lantz　finished　his　talk　with　the　men　and　started　back。　Jordan　reached　for　his　Winchester；　an　automatic　gesture。　Yet　almost　at　the　point　where　Lantz　could　have　seen　the　boy　was　alone　with　the　sheep；　he　turned　back　for　a　final　word。
　A　stone　rattled　and　Jordan　turned　swiftly。　Maria　Cristina　had　e　around　the　ruined　wall。　Her　breath　was　ing　fast；　her　eyes　were　wide。　She　had　a　small　package　of　food。　She　turned　to　go　and　he　caught　her　hand。
　〃Cuidado！　He　indicated　the　riders。　〃Hurry！　They　will　find　you　gone！〃
　Her　eyes　held　his；　cold；　inscrutable。　〃You　are　afraid　they　will　find　you？　Or　that　you　will　get　no　more　food？〃
　〃Don't　be　a　fool；〃　he　said　shortly。
　She　turned　abruptly　away。
　〃And　be　careful；〃　he　said。　〃You　are　a　beautiful　woman；　Maria　Cristina。〃
　She　looked　at　him；　her　eyes　flaring　a　little；　yet　as　she　seemed　about　to　speak　she　suddenly　turned　away。
　Lantz　had　disappeared　and　the　other　riders　were　riding　away　when　he　looked　around。　Rifle　in　hand；　he　moved　to　the　cliff…edge。　He　had　no　doubt　of　what　he　would　do　if　Lantz　saw　the　girl　and　followed　her。　He　could　kill　him。
　That　night；　long　after　darkness　had　e；　he　got　to　his　feet　for　the　first　time。　Using　his　rifle　as　a　cratch；　he　took　two　steps；　then　had　to　sit　down。　Later　he　managed　two　more。
　The　sheep　were　penned　and　Juanito　was　inside　when　Maria　Cristina　approached　the　house。　She　circled　to　e　up　from　the　spring　where　she　had　left　a　bucket　She　could　hear　angry　voices　within　the　house。　One　was　Vicente。　His　eyes　were　flushed　and　angry　when　she　came　into　the　house。
　Her　mother　shot　a　quick　glance　at　Maria　Cristina　from　dark；　worried　eyes。　Maria　Cristina　had　entered　in　the　midst　of　a　quarrel　gone　suddenly　silent。
　Vicente　stared　at　her　in　sullen　anger。　Head　high；　she　crossed　the　room　to　wash　her　hands。　Her　mother　began　placing　food　upon　the　table。　Juanito　sat　at　the　table；　holding　his　knife；　the　room　was　lighted　by　candles　and　by　the　fire。　It　was　a　large　room；　a　living…room　as　well　as　a　kitchen。　There　were　three　bedrooms　and　a　parlor；　never　used。
　Vicente　paced　the　floor。　Suddenly　he　turned　on　her。　〃You'll　get　us　all　in　trouble！　Hiding　that　man！〃
　Maria　Cristina　looked　at　him；　her　eyes　disdainful。　〃You　are　a　fool；〃　she　said。
　He　glared　at　her；　furious。　He　started　to　speak；　then　plunged　through　the　door　and　slammed　it　behind　him。　Maria　Cristina　looked　after　him；　her　lips　tightening。　Feeling　as　he　did；　there　was　no　telling　what　he　might　do。　Yet　he　did　not　know　of　the　hiding　place　on　the　cliff。　Not　even　Juanito　knew。
　And　he　was　right；　of　course。　It　was　a　danger　to　them　all　to　help　the　wounded　man。　Yet　she　had　found　him　alone；　wounded　and　dying；　and　it　had　seemed　there　was　nothing　else　to　do。
　Vicente　stomped　back　into　the　house　and；　seating　himself；　began　angrily　to　eat　〃You　h