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The Spirit of the Border-Part30_Zane Gray(1872-1939)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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the leaves, the rain-call of the tree frog, the caw of crows from distant

hilltops, the sweet songs of the thrush and oriole, were blended together



naturally, harmoniously.

But suddenly the hunter raised his head. A note, deeper than the others, a



little too strong, came from far down the shaded hollow. To Wetzel's trained

ear it was a discord. He manifested no more than this attention, for the



birdcall was the signal he had been awaiting. He whistled a note in answer

that was as deep and clear as the one which had roused him.



Moments passed. There was no repetition of the sound. The songs of the other

birds had ceased. Besides Wetzel there was another intruder in the woods.



Mose lifted his shaggy head and growled. The hunter patted the dog. In a few

minutes the figure of a tall man appeared among the laurels down the slope. He



stopped while gazing up at the ledge. Then, with noiseless step, he ascended

the ridge, climbed the rocky ledge, and turned the corner of the stone to face



Wetzel. The newcomer was Jonathan Zane.

"Jack, I expected you afore this," was Wetzel's greeting.



"I couldn't make it sooner," answered Zane. "After we left Williamson and

separated, I got turned around by a band of several hundred redskins makin'



for the Village of Peace. I went back again, but couldn't find any sign of the

trail we're huntin'. Then I makes for this meetin' place. I've been goin' for



some ten hours, and am hungry."

"I've got some bar ready cooked," said Wetzel, handing Zane several strips of



meat.

"What luck did you have?"



"I found Girty's trail, an old one, over here some eighteen or twenty miles,

an' follered it until I went almost into the Delaware town. It led to a hut in



a deep ravine. I ain't often surprised, but I wus then. I found the dead body

of that girl, Kate Wells, we fetched over from Fort Henry. Thet's sad, but it



ain't the surprisin' part. I also found Silvertip, the Shawnee I've been

lookin' fer. He was all knocked an' cut up, deader'n a stone. There'd been



somethin' of a scrap in the hut. I calkilate Girty murdered Kate, but I

couldn't think then who did fer Silver, though I allowed the renegade might



hev done thet, too. I watched round an' seen Girty come back to the hut. He

had ten Injuns with him, an' presently they all made fer the west. I trailed



them, but didn't calkilate it'd be wise to tackle the bunch single-handed, so

laid back. A mile or so from the hut I came across hoss tracks minglin' with



the moccasin-prints. About fifteen mile or from the Delaware town, Girty left

his buckskins, an' they went west, while he stuck to the hoss tracks. I was



onto his game in a minute. I cut across country fer Beautiful Spring, but I

got there too late. I found the warm bodies of Joe and thet Injun girl, Winds.



The snake hed murdered them."

"I allow Joe won over Winds, got away from the Delaware town with her, tried



to rescue Kate, and killed Silver in the fight. Girty probably was surprised,

an' run after he had knifed the girl."



"'Pears so to me. Joe had two knife cuts, an' one was an old wound."

"You say it was a bad fight?"



"Must hev been. The hut was all knocked in, an' stuff scattered about. Wal,

Joe could go some if he onct got started."



"I'll bet he could. He was the likeliest lad I've seen for many a day."

"If he'd lasted, he'd been somethin' of a hunter an' fighter."



"Too bad. But Lord! you couldn't keep him down, no more than you can lots of

these wild young chaps that drift out here."



"I'll allow he had the fever bad."

"Did you hev time to bury them?"



"I hedn't time fer much. I sunk them in the spring."

"It's a pretty deep hole," said Zane, reflectively. "Then, you and the dog



took Girty's trail, but couldn't catch up with him. He's now with the renegade

cutthroats and hundreds of riled Indians over there in the Village of Peace."



"I reckon you're right."

A long silence ensued,. Jonathan finished his simple repast, drank from the



little spring that trickled under the stone, and, sitting down by the dog,

smoothed out his long silken hair.



"Lew, we're pretty good friends, ain't we?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"Jack, you an' the colonel are all the friends I ever hed, 'ceptin' that boy



lyin' quiet back there in the woods."

"I know you pretty well, and ain't sayin' a word about your runnin' off from



me on many a hunt, but I want to speak plain about this fellow Girty."

"Wal?" said Wetzel, as Zane hesitated.



"Twice in the last few years you and I have had it in for the same men, both

white-livered traitors. You remember? First it was Miller, who tried to ruin



my sister Betty, and next it was Jim Girty, who murdered our old friend, as

good an old man as ever wore moccasins. Wal, after Miller ran off from the



fort, we trailed him down to the river, and I points across and says, 'You or

me?' and you says, 'Me.' You was Betty's friend, and I knew she'd be avenged.



Miller is lyin' quiet in the woods, and violets have blossomed twice over his




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