the Drift Fence (1992) by Grey Zane

Author:Grey, Zane [Zane, Grey,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-02-28T06:16:00.375000+00:00

Chapter FOURTEEN

The day came when Jim Traft had his first look at the country from the rim of the Diamond.

It was from the western promontory under which the Cibeque curled like a winding snake. The rest was endless green, relieved by bare spots and gray specks, which were the homesteads of the inhabitants. West Fork lay almost under the rim, a few cabins and fields, a gray line of road between some houses. Far to the south the dense forest began to lose its grip and showed bare grass flats and ridges. Westward the slopes ran up in long slants, like the ribs of a washboard, ending in a craggy mountain range.

Standing above the forest to look back through the wilderness he had built the drift fence, Jim gazed down over a gradual descent to the open cattle country, rolling and vast and dotted, ending in deep purple distance.

The splendid panorama transported Jim. He gazed long, and ever his eyes travelled back to the picturesque little homestead in the bend of the Cibeque, where he imagined Molly Dunn lived. He could see a log cabin, a ragged clearing in the woods, and tiny specks that must have been cattle or horses.

He lingered there a long while. This, his first sight of Arizona land from a loftly prospect, had staggered him with its vastness, its magnificence, its tremendous note of solitude and the wild. For weeks a subtle happiness in his surroundings had been almost imperceptibly stealing over Jim. He had grown to love the forest and life in the open.

He could not hate this beautiful wilderness because through it he had received the cruellest hurt he had ever suffered. And when at length he clambered over the rocks, up to a level and to his horse, he realized that Arizona had claimed him.

On the way back to camp, while riding across one of the grassy draws which headed on the western side of the Diamond, Jim found another placard nailed to a tree. It was identical with one Hackamore Jocelyn had brought in from the head of Sycamore, and its crude mis-spelled message read the same. This one, however, had a round black spot in the centre.

Upon tearing the placard loose Jim saw that the spot was a bullet hole.

It stirred a curious heat in his veins. And he was reminded of Curly's admonition, not to ride around alone through the forest. "To be honest aboot it, boss, I'm more afeared Hack Jocelyn will take a shot at you than one of these Cibeque hombres," said Curly.

"Curly! I can't believe that of Jocelyn," expostulated Jim. "It's not hard to believe it of Slinger Dunn. But one of my own men. No!"

"Wal, heah you are--the same old tenderfoot! You're daid wrong, Jim.

Jocelyn would do thet little thin' if he had a chance. Mebbe it's on his mind an' thet's why he hangs on heah. But Slinger Dunn would never shoot you or no other man in the back."

"You rate Slinger Dunn above Jocelyn as a man?" queried Jim, in surprise.

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