|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 39
Carley rode all that afternoon in the rear of the caravan, gradually
succumbing to the cold raw wind and the aches and pains to which she had
subjected her flesh. Nevertheless, she finished the day's journey, and,
sorely as she needed Glenn's kindly hand, she got off her horse without
aid.
Camp was made at the edge of the devastated timber zone that Carley had
found so dispiriting. A few melancholy pines were standing, and everywhere,
as far as she could see southward, were blackened fallen trees and stumps.
It was a dreary scene. The few cattle grazing on the bleached grass
appeared as melancholy as the pines. The sun shone fitfully at sunset, and
then sank, leaving the land to twilight and shadows.
Once in a comfortable seat beside the camp fire, Carley had no further
desire to move. She was so far exhausted and weary that she could no longer
appreciate the blessing of rest. Appetite, too, failed her this meal time.
Darkness soon settled down. The wind moaned through the pines. She was
indeed glad to crawl into bed, and not even the thought of skunks could
keep her awake.
Morning disclosed the fact that gray clouds had been blown away. The sun
shone bright upon a white-frosted land. The air was still. Carley labored
at her task of rising, and brushing her hair, and pulling on her boots; and
it appeared her former sufferings were as naught compared with the pangs of
this morning. How she hated the cold, the bleak, denuded forest land, the
emptiness, the roughness, the crudeness! If this sort of feeling grew any
worse she thought she would hate Glenn. Yet she was nonetheless set upon
going on, and seeing the sheep-dip, and riding that fiendish mustang until
the trip was ended.
Getting in the saddle and on the way this morning was an ordeal that made
Carley actually sick. Glenn and Flo both saw how it was with her, and they
left her to herself. Carley was grateful for this understanding. It seemed
to proclaim their respect. She found further matter for satisfaction in the
astonishing circumstance that after the first dreadful quarter of an hour
in the saddle she began to feel easier. And at the end of several hours of
riding she was not suffering any particular pain, though she was weaker.
At length the cut-over land ended in a forest of straggling pines, through
which the road wound southward, and eventually down into a wide shallow
canyon. Through the trees Carley saw a stream of water, open fields of
green, log fences and cabins, and blue smoke. She heard the chug of a
gasoline engine and the baa-baa of sheep. Glenn waited for her to catch up
with him, and he said: "Carley, this is one of Hutter's sheep camps. It's
not a--a very pleasant place. You won't care to see the sheep-dip. So I'm
suggesting you wait here--"
"Nothing doing, Glenn," she interrupted. "I'm going to see what there is to
see."
"But, dear--the men--the way they handle sheep--they'll--really it's no
sight for you," he floundered.
"Why not?" she inquired, eying him.
"Because, Carley--you know how you hate the--the seamy side of things. And
the stench--why, it'll make you sick!"
"Glenn, be on the level," she said. "Suppose it does. Wouldn't you think
more of me if I could stand it?"
"Why, yes," he replied, reluctantly, smiling at her, "I would. But I wanted
to spare you. This trip has been hard. I'm sure proud of you. And, Carley--
you can overdo it. Spunk is not everything. You simply couldn't stand
this."
"Glenn, how little you know a woman!" she exclaimed. "Come along and show
me your old sheep-dip."
They rode out of the woods into an open valley that might have been
picturesque if it had not been despoiled by the work of man. A log fence
ran along the edge of open ground and a mud dam held back a pool of
stagnant water, slimy and green. As Carley rode on the baa-baa of sheep
became so loud that she could scarcely hear Glenn talking.
Several log cabins, rough hewn and gray with age, stood down inside the
inclosure; and beyond there were large corrals. From the other side of
these corrals came sounds of rough voices of men, a trampling of hoofs,
heavy splashes, the beat of an engine, and the incessant baaing of the
sheep.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|