lla.thelonelymen-第22部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ered　into　the　Apache　camp。
　Off　to　my　left　Rocca's　gun　was　blazing。　I　saw　a　wild　Apache　face　spring　at　him　out　of　the　dark；　saw　the　flash　of　the　pistol；　and　the　face　vanished　into　the　darkness。　Somewhere　a　horse　screamed；　and　I　heard　a　shout　from　Battles　as　his　horse　spilled　head　over　heels；　and　John　J。　hit　the　sand　running。　I　saw　him　slide　to　a　stop　and　slam　two　fast　shots　at　the　running　Apaches。　Then　he　wheeled　and；　bolstering　his　pistol　as　he　moved；　he　made　a　wild　grab　at　the　streaming　mane　of　one　of　our　horses；　somehow　turned　aside　from　the　first　rush。　He　was　almost　swept　from　his　feet；　but　he　went　astride　the　horse；　clinging　to　his　hold　on　its　mane。
　Flames　stabbed　from　every　side；　and　then　we　were　through　the　camp　and　racing　away　down　the　bottom　of　the　barranca。
　My　black　was　running　all　out；　and　I　turned　a　little　in　my　saddle。　Rocca　was　still　ing；　riding　loose　in　the　saddle；　his　hat　on　the　back　of　his　neck；　held　by　the　string　of　his　chin…strap　which　had　slipped　to　his　throat。
　Spanish　was　off　to　my　right　…　or　so　I　thought　…　and　we　charged　on　into　the　night；　some　of　the　horses　running　wild　ahead　of　us；　others　scattered　to　left　and　right。
　We　raced　on；　and　somehow　the　horses　found　a　winding　trail　to　the　cap　rock　and　slowed　to　climb　it。　I　called　out；　but　there　was　no　reply。　Finally　the　black　struggled　over　the　rim　onto　the　mesa。　There　was　more　light　there；　under　the　high　stars。
　I　drew　up。　Here　and　there　I　glimpsed　a　horse；　but　none　that　carried　a　rider。
　Slowly　I　rode　on；　talking　to　the　horses　and　hoping　the　others　would　follow。　Daylight　was　still　far　away；　but　none　of　us　would　dare　to　stop。　If　they　were　alive　they；　too；　would　keep　on。
　There　was　no　use　to　try　to　find　anybody。　In　the　darkness　a　body　could　be　missed；　and　any　one　of　us　would　shy　from　any　other　rider　for　fear　he　was　facing　an　Indian。
　Through　the　night　I　rode；　once　lifting　my　horse　to　a　trot　for　a　few　miles；　then　slowing　again　to　a　walk。　I　reloaded　my　gun；　checked　my　rifle。　Once；　worn　out　as　I　was；　I　dozed　in　the　saddle。
　Finally；　in　the　gray　light　of　day；　I　stopped。　Carefully；　standing　in　my　stirrups；　I　looked　in　every　direction。　I　could　see　for　a　good　distance　on　all　sides；　but　there　was　nothing　but　desert　and　sky。　Wearily；　I　started　the　black　horse　on　again；　heading　north。
　By　noontime；　with　nothing　in　sight；　I　got　down　and　stumbled　on；　leading　the　horse。　There　was　no　telling　when　I　might　need　all　that　horse　had　to　make　a　run　for　it。
　There　were　no　tracks。　There　was　only　silence。　Overhead　a　buzzard　swept　down　the　sky；　returned　and　circled　widely　above　me。　After　that　he　stayed　with　me；　and　I　figured　a　buzzard　had　pretty　good　judgment　about　where　he　might　get　a　meal。
　The　sun　was　hot；　and　no　breeze　stirred。　My　canteen　had　been　holed　by　a　bullet　and　was　empty。　I　stumbled　along　like　a　sleepwalker；　dead　on　my　feet；　yet　not　daring　to　stop。　Finally　I　gave　up　and　climbed　into　the　saddle　again。
　Ahead　of　me；　almost　lost　in　the　blue　of　distance；　the　cap　rock　seemed　to　break　off。　There　were　mountains　beyond；　behind　me　and　to　the　east　there　was　nothing。　Water　。。。　I　had　to　have　water；　and　so　did　my　horse。　Under　a　desert　sun　a　man　cannot　live　long　without　water。
　The　mesa　ended　abruptly；　but　there　was　no　trail　to　the　rough；　rolling　land　below。　Here　there　was　another　stretch　of　the　rimrock；　nowhere　less　than　thirty　feet　of　sheer　wall；　then　a　steep；　rock…strewn　slope。
　Far　off　I　thought　I　could　see　a　patch　of　green　in　a　fold　of　the　earth。　Skirting　the　cliff；　I　rode　on。　Suddenly　I　saw　the　tracks　of　shod　hoofs。
　The　tracks　were　familiar。　They　were　the　tracks　of　a　horse　that　Spanish　Murphy　had　ridden；　a　tough；　mountain…bred　horse；　larger　than　the　average　mustang；　and　weighing　almost　a　thousand　pounds。　Turning　into　the　trail；　I　followed　it　along　the　rim。　We　came　abruptly　to　a　cleft　where　the　rock　wall　had　broken　away　and　there　was　an　easy　though　steep　descent　to　the　valley　below。　We　made　it。
　We　rode　on；　the　black　and　me；　with　the　black　quickening　his　pace　so　as　to　e　up　with　his　friend。　Sure　enough；　we'd　gone　not　over　five　miles　when　we　saw　the　bay　mustang　ahead　of　us。　He　had　stopped；　and　was　looking　ahead；　ears　pricked。
　Well；　I　shucked　that　Winchester　before　you　could　say　aye；　yes；　or　no；　and　I　eared　back　the　hammer　and　walked　the　black　right　up　alongside　that　mustang。　I　spoke　easy　to　him；　and　he　didn't　do　more　than　side…step　a　mite；　knowing　my　voice。　Then　I　looked　where　he　was　looking。
　There　was　a　thick　clump　of　ironwood　beside　the　way　we　were　taking；　and　a　horse　was　standing　head　down　there；　just　waiting；　and　sitting　up　on　its　back　was　a　man。　He　was　sitting　there；　hands　on　the　pommel；　head　hanging　like　the　horse's；　and　when　we　started　forward；　he　paid　us　no　mind。
　Good　reason　why。　It　was　Tampico　Rocca；　and　he　was　dead。
　Even　before　I　got　to　him　I　could　see　by　the　blood　on　his　vest　that　he'd　been　shot　at　least　twice；　but　he'd　lived　long　enough　to　lash　one　hand　to　the　saddlehorn　and　tangle　the　fingers　of　the　other　hand　in　the　turns　of　the　rope。
　Rocca　had　said　that　if　he　got　into　the　saddle　he　would　stay　there；　and　he　meant　it。
　
　Chapter　15
　
　There　was　no　need　to　stay　close　to　him；　and　I　was　wary。　Had　the　Apaches　seen　me　ing；　it　would　have　been　like　them　to　leave　Rocca　there；　and　I　wanted　no　traps。
　An　arroyo　offered　some　shelter；　and　after　a　quick　glance　I　rode　into　it　and　waited　there；　listening。
　For　several　minutes　I　watched　Rocca；　the　horse；　and　the　rocks　around。　Mostly；　it　was　the　horse　I　watched；　for　the　actions　of　the　horse　would　warn　me　if　there　was　anyone　close　by。
　Following　the　arroyo　a　little　further；　I　saw　a　clump　of　brush　and　low　trees　near　the　lip　of　the　draw；　so　I　rode　up　the　bank　in　their　shelter。　After　a　while；　reasonably　sure　that　it　was　safe；　I　went　back　to　the　horse　and　its　burden。
　The　trailing　bridle　had　caught　in　the　brush；　and　I　let　it　stay　there　while　I　lifted　Rocco　from　the　saddle　after　freeing　his　hands。　There　was　nothing　with　which　to　prepare　a　grave；　so　I　found　a　shallow　watercourse；　placed　him　in　it；　and　covered　the　body　with　brush　and　rocks。
　But　first；　I　had　taken　his　guns　and　ammunition；　to　leave　nothing　for　the　Apaches　if　they　found　him。　There　was　a　full　belt　of　ammunition　as　well　as　some　loose　cartridges。　And　there　was　a　swallow　of　water　in　the　canteen。
　In　his　pocket　I　found　a　stub　of　pencil　and　some　old　papers　on　which　he　had　been　learning　to　write　his　name。　He　had　gotten　somebody　to　write　it　for　him；　or　had　taken　it　from　something　addressed　to　him；　and　had　practiced；　over　and　over　again；　on　many　different　surfaces。　I　had　never　seen　him　do　so；　nor　likely　had　anyone　else；　for　he　was　a　proud　man；　ashamed　to　let　us　know　he　could　not　write；　and　that　he　cared。
　There　was　no　address；　nothing　to　show　that　there　was　anyone　to　whom　he　belonged。　But　there　had　been　a　girl　he　had　talked　of；　so　I　took　what　money　he　had；　only　a　few　dollars　and　some　pesos；　to　give　to　her。
　Scarcely　twenty　minutes　was　used　in　burying　the　body。　Then；　leading　the　spare　horse；　I　went　back　to　the　arroyo　and　followed　it　for　perhaps　a　mile；　the　soft　sand　leaving　no　tracks　that　could　be　recognized。　When　I　came　out　I　started　across　country。
　The　sun　had　gone　down　by　now　and　the　desert　was　cool。　Off　in　the　distance　I　could　hear　a　quail　call　。。。　I　hoped　it　was　a　real　quail。
　I　felt　stiff　and　cold　now；　and　I　worked　my　fingers　to　keep　them　easy　for　my　gun。　Shifting　to　Rocca's　horse；　I　rode　on　into　the　night。　There　was　no　trail；　but　I　went　ahead；　all　the　time　looking　for　water。　The　green　place　I'd　seen　from　afar　should　be　near。
　The　black　horse　pulled　up　alongside　me；　and　Rocca's　horse　quickened　its　pace。　They　smelled　it。
　An　arroyo　opened　on　my　right　and　I　found　my　way　into　it；　listened；　then　walked　the　horses　on；　knowing　the　arroyo　would　end　where　the　water　was。　The　arroyo　gaped；　and　I　looked　into　a　small　oasis　darkening　with　the　cool　of　evening。
　There　were　a　dozen　cottonwoods；　some　mesquite　and　willows；　and　slopes　green　with　grass；　and　through　the　trees　a　glimmer　of　water。　I　could　hear　birds　twittering。　The　horses　tugged　at　their　bits；　wanting　to　go　forward。　Winchester　in　hand；　I　walked　them　slowly；　ready　with　a　spur　if　need　be。
　Suddenly　my　way　was　blocked　by　a　low　stone　wall　that　looked　to　be　a　part　of　one　of　those　trincheras　the　ancient　people　built　to　terrace　and　till　their　land；　or　sometimes　for　dams。　I'd　seen　a　lot　of　them　in　Mexico。
　Dismounting；　I　led　the　horses　around　it　and　down　to　a　broken　place　in　the　wall；　and　saw　something　dark　and　shadowy　through　the　trees。　There　was　no　sound　but　the　water；　and　the　rustle　of　the　cottonwood　leaves。　I　walked　ahead　to　an　opening　among　the　trees；　and　came　to　an　ancient　ruin。　It　had　once　been　a　considerable　structure；　built　right　from　the　edge　of　the　pool　back　to　the　cliffs　where　it　joined　the　native　rock。
　Only　the　floor　remained；　and　a　corner　of　a　wall　that　reached　up　to　six　feet；　slanting　down　to　no　more　than　three　feet　near　the　water。　There　was　green　grass　all　around；　and　a　stillness　that　came　from　utter　isolation。
　First　off；　I　let　the　horses　drink　sparingly；　and　drank　myself；　and　then　filled　Rocca's　canteen。　All　the　while　I　kept　my　ears　tuned　for　any　sound。　But　there　were　no　tracks　around　that　I　could　see；　no　signs　of　campfires；　nothing　to　show　anybody　had　been　here　at　all　in　years。
　Picketing　the　horses；　I　found　a　corner　of　the　wall　that　protected　me　on　two　sides。　A　pile　of　fallen　adobe　bricks　mingled　with　chunks　of　rock　that　had　been　used　in　the　walls　formed　a　partial　breastwork　on　the　other　sides。
　Tired　as　I　was；　there　was　no　sleep　in　me。　Places　like　this　made　a　man　sort　of　sad。　Somebody　had　lived　here；　and　judging　by　the　look　of　the　place；　different　people　at　different　times。　There　had　once　been　a　building　of　native　stone。　It　had　fallen　in　and　been　rebuilt　with　adobe　and　rock；　and　it　looked　as　if　the　last　time　was　no　more　than　thirty；　forty　years　back。　Indians　had　perhaps　built　the　place　first；　and　rebuilt　it；　too。　Later　white　people　had　settled　in　here　until　driven　out。
　It　was　a　quiet　place。　A　small　garden　patch　had　been　worked　at　one　time；　and　there　was　a　meadow　where　hay　might　have　been　cut；　but　nobody　could　live　long　in　such　a　place　with　the　Apaches　on　the　rampage。
　I　settled　down；　and　after　a　while　I　slept。　I　awoke　when　the　morning　su