Wilderness Trek (1988) by Grey Zane

Author:Grey, Zane [Zane, Grey,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-02-28T06:16:05.468000+00:00

"Oh, Sterl! I'm glad--glad in a way. But I did want to cross the Never-never. Didn't you?"

The answer that sprang to Sterl's lips was both cruel and insulting, but somehow he could not hold back the words: "Yes," he said caustically, "I sure hate the idea of having to spend a year longer in the society of two shallow, mindless girls like you and Beryl."

Her face burned red, her eyes blazed, and there was little doubt that but for Red's intervention she would have struck him. He went on his way, deeply disturbed by the encounter. Red caught up with him.

"Say, pard, the kid would have smacked the daylights out of you but for me," he said.

"That didn't escape me, Red."

"I left her cryin'. That was a mean kind of speech you gave her, Sterl."

"Agree with you," Sterl snapped. Then after a pause, "Did you look at Beryl?"

"Shore. Beryl was surprised. Mebbe she's not so strong for them noble idees of bein' true to her Dad. Mebbe she's been talked into elopin' with Ormiston."

"Ah, I had that thought, too. I hoped I was wrong. Red, Eric Dann was sunk at his brother's decision. Sunk!"

"He oughta be overjoyed. If he ain't--why ain't he? He always struck me as kinda phony--weak or somethin'. Gosh, ain't it hot again? Thet false alarm last night made us expect this gosh-awful sun wouldn't shine no more."

"But the air feels different."

There was an infinitesimal humidity in the atmosphere that morning. That afternoon white clouds, like ships at sea, sailed over the ranges to the northeast. They were good to see. Before they crossed the zenith the heat had dissipated them. The sunset was ruddy, dusky, smoky. The cattle lowed. There was an uneasy activity among the birds and kangaroos. Friday talked to the old men among the aborigines, and returned uncommunicative.

After supper, Sterl was reading by firelight when Red nudged him. In the gloaming distance--Ormiston and Beryl!

"Watch awhile, pard. It won't be long now!" said Red, getting up to glide off like an Indian.

Out of the corner of his eve Sterl watched Leslie, and knew she would approach him. At last she did.

"Red has followed them--Ormiston and Beryl. What's he going to do? Kill that blighter?"

Sterl did not answer.

"Eric Dann has got the willies, whatever Red means by them," went on Leslie, restlessly, edging closer. "And he was drinking whisky. In this heat!"

"How do you know?"

"I saw him. I smelled it. Sterl, the rains will come?"

"Friday says bimeby. Mebbe soon. Mebbe no."

"I thought I'd die last night, hoping, waiting. It'll never rain. We'll all dry up and blow away."

Leslie came closer, and suddenly, desperate, sat down beside Sterl.

"You hateful, callous, unforgiving cowboy!" she whispered, huskily.

"Leslie, how very unflattering!" he rejoined, mildly.

"I hate you!" she burst out.

"That is only natural, Leslie. Your are a headstrong child."

"Headstrong, yes, but I'm not even a girl any more. I'm old. I'll be like these gins, presently."

"Very well, then, you're old. What of it?"

"Oh, I don't care. Nobody cares. You don't. I--I wish I'd thrown myself away on Ormiston.

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