The Call Of The Canyon, Zane Grey [good non fiction books to read txt] 📗

So She Abandoned Herself To The Woman Within Her. She Held Out Her Arms To

The Blue Abyss Of Heaven As If To Embrace The Universe. She Was Nature. She

Kissed The Dusty Cinders And Pressed Her Breast Against The Warm Slope. Her

Heart Swelled To Bursting With A Glorious And Unutterable Happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

That Afternoon As The Sun Was Setting Under A Gold-White Scroll Of Cloud

Carley Got Back To Deep Lake.

 

A Familiar Lounging Figure Crossed Her Sight. It Approached To Where She

Had Dismounted. Charley,  The Sheep Herder Of Oak Creek!

 

"Howdy!" He Drawled,  With His Queer Smile. "So It Was You-All Who Had This

Deep Lake Section?"

 

"Yes. And How Are You,  Charley?" She Replied,  Shaking Hands With Him.

 

"Me? Aw,  I'm Tip-Top. I'm Shore Glad You Got This Ranch. Reckon I'll Hit

You For A Job."

 

"I'd Give It To You. But Aren't You Working For The Hutters?"

 

"Nope. Not Any More. Me An' Stanton Had A Row With Them."

 

How Droll And Dry He Was! His Lean,  Olive-Brown Face,  With Its Guileless

Clear Eyes And His Lanky Figure In Blue Jeans Vividly Recalled Oak Creek To

Carley.

 

"Oh,  I'm Sorry," Returned She Haltingly,  Somehow Checked In Her Warm Rush

Of Thought. "Stanton? . . . Did He Quit Too?"

 

"Yep. He Sure Did."

 

"What Was The Trouble?"

 

"Reckon Because Flo Made Up To Kilbourne," Replied Charley,  With A Grin.

 

"Ah! I--I See," Murmured Carley. A Blankness Seemed To Wave Over Her. It

Extended To The Air Without,  To The Sense Of The Golden Sunset. It Passed.

What Should She Ask--What Out Of A Thousand Sudden Flashing Queries? "Are--

Are The Hutters Back?"

 

Chapter 11 Pg 189

"Sure. Been Back Several Days. I Reckoned Hoyle Told You. Mebbe He Didn't

Know,  Though. For Nobody's Been To Town."

 

"How Is--How Are They All?" Faltered Carley. There Was A Strange Wall Here

Between Her Thought And Her Utterance.

 

"Everybody Satisfied,  I Reckon," Replied Charley.

 

"Flo--How Is She?" Burst Out Carley.

 

"Aw,  Flo's Loony Over Her Husband," Drawled Charley,  His Clear Eyes On

Carley's.

 

"Husband!" She Gasped.

 

"Sure. Flo's Gone An' Went An' Done What I Swore On."

 

"Who?" Whispered Carley,  And The Query Was A Terrible Blade Piercing Her

Heart.

 

"Now Who'd You Reckon On?" Asked Charley,  With His Slow Grin.

 

Carley's Lips Were Mute.

 

"Wal,  It Was Your Old Beau Thet You Wouldn't Have," Returned Charley,  As He

Gathered Up His Long Frame,  Evidently To Leave. "Kilbourne! He An' Flo Came

Back From The Tonto All Hitched Up."

 

 

 

Chapter 12 Pg 190

 

Vague Sense Of Movement,  Of Darkness,  And Of Cold Attended Carley's

Consciousness For What Seemed Endless Time.

 

A Fall Over Rocks And A Severe Thrust From A Sharp Branch Brought An Acute

Appreciation Of Her Position,  If Not Of Her Mental State. Night Had Fallen.

The Stars Were Out. She Had Stumbled Over A Low Ledge. Evidently She Had

Wandered Around,  Dazedly And Aimlessly,  Until Brought To Her Senses By

Pain. But For A Gleam Of Campfires Through The Cedars She Would Have Been

Lost. It Did Not Matter. She Was Lost,  Anyhow. What Was It That Had

Chapter 12 Pg 191

Happened?

 

Charley,  The Sheep Herder! Then The Thunderbolt Of His Words Burst Upon

Her,  And She Collapsed To The Cold Stones. She Lay Quivering From Head To

Toe. She Dug Her Fingers Into The Moss And Lichen. "Oh,  God,  To Think--

After All--It Happened!" She Moaned. There Had Been A Rending Within Her

Breast,  As Of Physical Violence,  From Which She Now Suffered Anguish. There

Were A Thousand Stinging Nerves. There Was A Mortal Sickness Of Horror,  Of

Insupportable Heartbreaking Loss. She Could Not Endure It. She Could Not

Live Under It.

 

She Lay There Until Energy Supplanted Shock. Then She Rose To Rush Into The

Darkest Shadows Of The Cedars,  To Grope Here And There,  Hanging Her Head,

Wringing Her Hands,  Beating Her Breast. "It Can't Be True," She Cried. "Not

After My Struggle--My Victory--Not Now!" But There Had Been No Victory. And

Now It Was Too Late. She Was Betrayed,  Ruined,  Lost. That Wonderful Love

Had Wrought Transformation In Her--And Now Havoc. Once She Fell Against The

Branches Of A Thick Cedar That Upheld Her. The Fragrance Which Had Been

Sweet Was Now Bitter. Life That Had Been Bliss Was Now Hateful! She Could

Not Keep Still For A Single Moment.

 

Black Night,  Cedars,  Brush,  Rocks,  Washes,  Seemed Not To Obstruct Her. In A

Frenzy She Rushed On,  Tearing Her Dress,  Her Hands,  Her Hair. Violence Of

Some Kind Was Imperative. All At Once A Pale Gleaming Open Space,

Shimmering Under The Stars,  Lay Before Her. It Was Water. Deep Lake! And

Instantly A Hideous Terrible Longing To Destroy Herself Obsessed Her. She

Had No Fear. She Could Have Welcomed The Cold,  Slimy Depths That Meant

Oblivion. But Could They Really Bring Oblivion? A Year Ago She Would Have

Believed So,  And Would No Longer Have Endured Such Agony. She Had Changed.

A Cursed Strength Had Come To Her,  And It Was This Strength That Now

Augmented Her Torture. She Flung Wide Her Arms To The Pitiless White Stars

And Looked Up At Them. "My Hope,  My Faith,  My Love Have Failed Me," She

Whispered. "They Have Been A Lie. I Went Through Hell For Them. And Now

I've Nothing To Live For.... Oh,  Let Me End It All!"

 

If She Prayed To The Stars For Mercy,  It Was Denied Her. Passionlessly They

Blazed On. But She Could Not Kill Herself. In That Hour Death Would Have

Been The Only Relief And Peace Left To Her. Stricken By The Cruelty Of Her

Fate,  She Fell Back Against The Stones And Gave Up To Grief. Nothing Was

Chapter 12 Pg 192

Left But Fierce Pain. The Youth And Vitality And Intensity Of Her Then

Locked Arms With Anguish And Torment And A Cheated,  Unsatisfied Love.

Strength Of Mind And Body Involuntarily Resisted The Ravages Of This

Catastrophe. Will Power Seemed Nothing,  But The Flesh Of Her,  That Medium

Of Exquisite Sensation,  So Full Of Life,  So Prone To Joy,  Refused To

Surrender. The Part Of Her That Felt Fought Terribly For Its Heritage.

 

All Night Long Carley Lay There. The Crescent Moon Went Down,  The Stars

Moved On Their Course,  The Coyotes Ceased To Wail,  The Wind Died Away,  The

Lapping Of The Waves Along The Lake Shore Wore To Gentle Splash,  The

Whispering Of The Insects Stopped As The Cold Of Dawn Approached. The

Darkest Hour Fell--Hour Of Silence,  Solitude,  And Melancholy,  When The

Desert Lay Tranced,  Cold,  Waiting,  Mournful Without Light Of Moon Or Stars

Or Sun.

 

In The Gray Dawn Carley Dragged Her Bruised And Aching Body Back To Her

Tent,  And,  Fastening The Door,  She Threw Off Wet Clothes And Boots And Fell

Upon Her Bed. Slumber Of Exhaustion Came To Her.

 

When She Awoke The Tent Was Light And The Moving Shadows Of Cedar Boughs On

The White Canvas Told That The Sun Was Straight Above. Carley Ached As

Never Before. A Deep Pang Seemed Invested In Every Bone. Her Heart Felt

Swollen Out Of Proportion To Its Space In Her Breast. Her Breathing Came

Slow And It Hurt. Her Blood Was Sluggish. Suddenly She Shut Her Eyes. She

Loathed The Light Of Day. What Was It That Had Happened?

 

Then The Brutal Truth Flashed Over Her Again,  In Aspect New,  With All The

Old Bitterness. For An Instant She Experienced A Suffocating Sensation As

If The Canvas Had Sagged Under The Burden Of Heavy Air And Was Crushing Her

Breast And Heart. Then Wave After Wave Of Emotion Swept Over Her. The Storm

Winds Of Grief And Passion Were Loosened Again. And She Writhed In Her

Misery.

 

Some One Knocked On Her Door. The Mexican Woman Called Anxiously. Carley

Awoke To The Fact That Her Presence Was Not Solitary On The Physical Earth,

Even If Her Soul Seemed Stricken To Eternal Loneliness. Even In The Desert

There Was A World To Consider. Vanity That Had Bled To Death,  Pride That

Had Been Crushed,  Availed Her Not Here. But Something Else Came To Her

Support. The Lesson Of The West Had Been To Endure,  Not To Shirk--To Face

An Issue,  Not To Hide. Carley Got Up,  Bathed,  Dressed,  Brushed And Arranged

Her Dishevelled Hair. The Face She Saw In The Mirror Excited Her Amaze And

Chapter 12 Pg 193

Pity. Then She Went Out In Answer To The Call For Dinner. But She Could Not

Eat. The Ordinary Functions Of Life Appeared To Be Deadened.

 

The Day Happened To Be Sunday,  And Therefore The Workmen Were Absent.

Carley Had The Place To Herself. How The Half-Completed House Mocked Her!

She Could Not Bear To Look At It. What Use Could She Make Of It Now? Flo

Hutter Had Become The Working Comrade Of Glenn Kilbourne,  The Mistress Of

His Cabin. She Was His Wife And She Would Be The Mother Of His Children.

 

That Thought Gave Birth To The