The Call Of The Canyon, Zane Grey [good non fiction books to read txt] 📗
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- Author: Zane Grey
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Hutter Burst Into His Hearty Laugh. "Wal, I'd Rather Get Some Things Anyday
Than A Bad Cold."
"Shore I've Had Both," Replied Flo, In Her Easy Drawl, "And I'd Prefer The
Cold. But For Carley's Sake--"
"Pray Don't Consider Me," Said Carley. The Rather Crude Drift Of The
Conversation Affronted Her.
"Well, My Dear," Put In Glenn, "It's A Bad Night Outside. We'll All Make
Our Beds Here."
"Glenn, You Shore Are A Nervy Fellow," Drawled Flo.
Long After Everybody Was In Bed Carley Lay Awake In The Blackness Of The
Cabin, Sensitively Fidgeting And Quivering Over Imaginative Contact With
Creeping Things. The Fire Had Died Out. A Cold Air Passed Through The Room.
On The Roof Pattered Gusts Of Rain. Carley Heard A Rustling Of Mice. It Did
Not Seem Possible That She Could Keep Awake, Yet She Strove To Do So. But
Her Pangs Of Body, Her Extreme Fatigue Soon Yielded To The Quiet And Rest
Of Her Bed, Engendering A Drowsiness That Proved Irresistible.
Morning Brought Fair Weather And Sunshine, Which Helped To Sustain Carley
In Her Effort To Brave Out Her Pains And Woes. Another Disagreeable Day
Would Have Forced Her To Humiliating Defeat. Fortunately For Her, The
Chapter 5 Pg 73Business Of The Men Was Concerned With The Immediate Neighborhood, In Which
They Expected To Stay All Morning.
"Flo, After A While Persuade Carley To Ride With You To The Top Of This
First Foothill," Said Glenn. "It's Not Far, And It's Worth A Good Deal To
See The Painted Desert From There. The Day Is Clear And The Air Free From
Dust."
"Shore. Leave It To Me. I Want To Get Out Of Camp, Anyhow. That Conceited
Hombre, Lee Stanton, Will Be Riding In Here," Answered Flo, Laconically.
The Slight Knowing Smile On Glenn's Face And The Grinning Disbelief On Mr.
Hutter's Were Facts Not Lost Upon Carley. And When Charley, The Herder,
Deliberately Winked At Carley, She Conceived The Idea That Flo, Like Many
Women, Only Ran Off To Be Pursued. In Some Manner Carley Did Not Seek To
Analyze, The Purported Advent Of This Lee Stanton Pleased Her. But She Did
Admit To Her Consciousness That Women, Herself Included, Were Both As Deep
And Mysterious As The Sea, Yet As Transparent As An Inch Of Crystal Water.
It Happened That The Expected Newcomer Rode Into Camp Before Anyone Left.
Before He Dismounted He Made A Good Impression On Carley, And As He Stepped
Down In Lazy, Graceful Action, A Tall Lithe Figure, She Thought Him
Singularly Handsome. He Wore Black Sombrero, Flannel Shirt, Blue Jeans
Stuffed Into High Boots, And Long, Big-Roweled Spurs.
"How Are You-All?" Was His Greeting.
From The Talk That Ensued Between Him And The Men, Carley Concluded That He
Must Be Overseer Of The Sheep Hands. Carley Knew That Hutter And Glenn Were
Not Interested In Cattle Raising. And In Fact They Were, Especially Hutter,
Somewhat Inimical To The Dominance Of The Range Land By Cattle Barons Of
Flagstaff.
"When's Ryan Goin' To Dip?" Asked Hutter.
"Today Or Tomorrow," Replied Stanton.
"Reckon We Ought To Ride Over," Went On Hutter. "Say, Glenn, Do You Reckon
Miss Carley Could Stand A Sheep-Dip?"
Chapter 5 Pg 74
This Was Spoken In A Low Tone, Scarcely Intended For Carley, But She Had
Keen Ears And Heard Distinctly. Not Improbably This Sheep-Dip Was What Flo
Meant As The Worst To Come. Carley Adopted A Listless Posture To Hide Her
Keen Desire To Hear What Glenn Would Reply To Hutter.
"I Should Say Not!" Whispered Glenn, Fiercely.
"Cut Out That Talk. She'll Hear You And Want To Go."
Whereupon Carley Felt Mount In Her Breast An Intense And Rebellious
Determination To See A Sheep-Dip. She Would Astonish Glenn. What Did He
Want, Anyway? Had She Not Withstood The Torturing Trot Of The
Hardest-Gaited Horse On The Range? Carley Realized She Was Going To Place
Considerable Store Upon That Feat. It Grew On Her.
When The Consultation Of The Men Ended, Lee Stanton Turned To Flo. And
Carley Did Not Need To See The Young Man Look Twice To Divine What Ailed
Him. He Was Caught In The Toils Of Love. But Seeing Through Flo Hutter Was
Entirely Another Matter.
"Howdy, Lee!" She Said, Coolly, With Her Clear Eyes On Him. A Tiny Frown
Knitted Her Brow. She Did Not, At The Moment, Entirely Approve Of Him.
"Shore Am Glad To See You, Flo," He Said, With Rather A Heavy Expulsion Of
Breath. He Wore A Cheerful Grin That In No Wise Deceived Flo, Or Carley
Either. The Young Man Had A Furtive Expression Of Eye.
"Ahuh!" Returned Flo.
"I Was Shore Sorry About--About That--" He Floundered, In Low Voice.
"About What?"
"Aw, You Know, Flo."
Carley Strolled Out Of Hearing, Sure Of Two Things--That She Felt Rather
Sorry For Stanton, And That His Course Of Love Did Not Augur Well For
Smooth Running. What Queer Creatures Were Women! Carley Had Seen Several
Million Coquettes, She Believed; And Assuredly Flo Hutter Belonged To The
Species.
Upon Carley's Return To The Cabin She Found Stanton And Flo Waiting For Her
To Accompany Them On A Ride Up The Foothill. She Was So Stiff And Sore That
She Could Hardly Mount Into The Saddle; And The First Mile Of Riding Was
Something Like A Nightmare. She Lagged Behind Flo And Stanton, Who
Apparently Forgot Her In Their Quarrel.
Chapter 5 Pg 75The Riders Soon Struck The Base Of A Long Incline Of Rocky Ground That Led
Up To The Slope Of The Foothill. Here Rocks And Gravel Gave Place To Black
Cinders Out Of Which Grew A Scant Bleached Grass. This Desert Verdure Was
What Lent The Soft Gray Shade To The Foothill When Seen From A Distance.
The Slope Was Gentle, So That The Ascent Did Not Entail Any Hardship.
Carley Was Amazed At The Length Of The Slope, And Also To See How High Over
The Desert She Was Getting. She Felt Lifted Out Of A Monotonous Level. A
Green-Gray League-Long Cedar Forest Extended Down Toward Oak Creek. Behind
Her The Magnificent Bulk Of The Mountains Reached Up Into The Stormy
Clouds, Showing White Slopes Of Snow Under The Gray Pall.
The Hoofs Of The Horses Sank In The Cinders. A Fine Choking Dust Assailed
Carley's Nostrils. Presently, When There Appeared At Least A Third Of The
Ascent Still To Be Accomplished And Flo Dismounted To Walk, Leading Their
Horses. Carley Had No Choice But To Do Likewise. At First Walking Was A
Relief. Soon, However, The Soft Yielding Cinders Began To Drag At Her Feet.
At Every Step She Slipped Back A Few Inches, A Very Annoying Feature Of
Climbing. When Her Legs Seemed To Grow Dead Carley Paused For A Little
Rest. The Last Of The Ascent, Over A Few Hundred Yards Of Looser Cinders,
Taxed Her Remaining Strength To The Limit. She Grew Hot And Wet And Out Of
Breath. Her Heart Labored. An Unreasonable Antipathy Seemed To Attend Her
Efforts. Only Her Ridiculous Vanity Held Her To This Task. She Wanted To
Please Glenn, But Not So Earnestly That She Would Have Kept On Plodding Up
This Ghastly Bare Mound Of Cinders. Carley Did Not Mind Being A Tenderfoot,
But She Hated The Thought Of These Westerners Considering Her A Weakling.
So She Bore The Pain Of Raw Blisters And The Miserable Sensation Of
Staggering On Under A Leaden Weight.
Several Times She Noted That Flo And Stanton Halted To Face Each Other In
Rather Heated Argument. At Least Stanton's Red Face And Forceful Gestures
Attested To Heat On His Part. Flo Evidently Was Weary Of Argument, And In
Answer To A Sharp Reproach She Retorted, "Shore I Was Different After He
Came." To Which Stanton Responded By A Quick Passionate Shrinking As If He
Had Been Stung.
Carley Had Her Own Reaction To This Speech She Could Not Help Hearing; And
Inwardly, At Least, Her Feeling Must Have Been Similar To Stanton's. She
Forgot The Object Of This Climb And Looked Off To Her Right At The Green
Chapter 5 Pg 76Level Without Really Seeing It. A Vague Sadness Weighed Upon Her Soul. Was
There To Be A Tangle Of Fates Here, A Conflict Of Wills, A Crossing Of
Loves? Flo's Terse Confession Could Not Be Taken Lightly. Did She Mean That
She Loved Glenn? Carley Began To Fear It. Only Another Reason Why She Must
Persuade Glenn To Go Back East! But The Closer Carley Came To What She
Divined Must Be An Ordeal The More She Dreaded It. This Raw, Crude West
Might Have Confronted Her With A Situation Beyond Her Control. And As She
Dragged Her Weighted Feet Through The Cinders, Kicking, Up Little Puffs Of
Black Dust, She Felt What She Admitted To Be An Unreasonable Resentment
Toward These Westerners And Their Barren, Isolated, And Boundless World.
"Carley," Called Flo, "Come--Looksee, As The Indians Say. Here Is Glenn's
Painted Desert, And I Reckon It's Shore Worth Seeing."
To Carley's Surprise, She Found Herself Upon The Knob Of The Foothill. And
When She Looked Out Across A Suddenly Distinguishable Void She Seemed
Struck By The Immensity Of Something She Was Unable To Grasp. She Dropped
Her Bridle; She Gazed Slowly, As If Drawn, Hearing Flo's Voice.
"That Thin Green Line Of Cottonwoods Down There Is The Little Colorado
River," Flo Was Saying. "Reckon It's Sixty Miles, All Down Hill. The
Painted Desert Begins There And Also The Navajo Reservation. You See The
White Strips, The Red Veins, The Yellow Bars, The Black Lines. They Are All
Desert Steps Leading Up And Up For Miles. That Sharp Black Peak Is Called
Wildcat. It's About A Hundred Miles. You See The Desert Stretching Away To
The Right, Growing Dim--Lost In Distance? We Don't Know That Country.
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