Lonely on the Mountain by Louis L'amour

Author:Louis L'amour [L'amour, Louis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-19T16:45:31+00:00

Chapter XIII

Orrin waited, his hands on his hips while the big man lumbered closer. He was huge, not as tall as Orrin's six feet four inches but thicker and wider. He gave off a sense of shocking physical power, to such a degree that Orrin was irritated by it.

A civilized man with some sense of decency and proportion, he bristled at the sight of the man. He had the good sense to realize it was something of the same feeling two stallions must feel when first they met. He had had his share of fights, but he had never wanted to hit a man until now.

"All right," Orrin said, "you are called the Ox. What else are you? Who are you?"

The Ox knew who he was facing. He did not know the man or care, but he sensed a rival male beast and welcomed it. He was a creature nature had bred to destroy.

"There was a stampede, buffalo. Everything went with them. Men, horses, cattle, everything. There was nothing I could do."

"Where were you when it happened?"

"Off to one side. I was swinging wide around the herd. They came out of the night like — like an avalanche. And then it was all gone."

"Where's your horse?"

"Gone. He went crazy when the stampede came, and he threw me. He ran away following the herd."

"Get something to eat. You look all in." The trouble was that he did not, and Orrin sat down across the fire from him. Something here was wrong, completely wrong. The Ox did not look done in; he did not look tired or hungry. He had appeared so, coming up the slope from the flat, but no longer. His gun was still in its holster.

Orrin's sense of justice warred with his innate dislike of the man he was watching. He warned himself to dismiss his antagonism and judge fairly.

"Was this the Sackett herd?" he asked.

The big man was eating, not very seriously. A really hungry man did not gulp food, he savored it, he ate slowly. A truly hungry man cannot gulp food because his stomach has shrunk. He is more apt to eat in small bites. The Ox ate as one does who has already eaten his fill, which is a different thing altogether.

"It was. Gilcrist and me, we hired on some time back. The drive was headed west. All gone now, all gone."

"What happened to the Sacketts?"

"Dead, I reckon. They must be dead."

"But if you were off to one side, mightn't they have been, also?"

The Ox squinted his eyes. Orrin suspected he did not like the thought. "Maybe, but I ain't seen them."

'Where have you been since?"

"Hidin' from Injuns. I ain't seen any, but I think it was them started the stampede."

Orrin watched the Ox put down his plate. The man's movements were easy, perfectly controlled. There was much about him that was puzzling. He was, Orrin was sure, a much brighter man than he at first appeared and probably a better-educated one.

Orrin stood up. "All right, boys, as soon as you're through eating, let's move out.

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