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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1881-0.txt b/1881-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a06527 --- /dev/null +++ b/1881-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8502 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Call of the Canyon, by Zane Grey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Call of the Canyon + +Author: Zane Grey + +Release Date: September, 1999 [eBook #1881] +[Most recently updated: May 21, 2023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Bill Brewer + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON *** + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Call of the Canyon + +by Zane Grey + + +Contents + + CHAPTER I + CHAPTER II + CHAPTER III + CHAPTER IV + CHAPTER V + CHAPTER VI + CHAPTER VII + CHAPTER VIII + CHAPTER IX + CHAPTER X + CHAPTER XI + CHAPTER XII + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +What subtle strange message had come to her out of the West? Carley +Burch laid the letter in her lap and gazed dreamily through the window. + +It was a day typical of early April in New York, rather cold and gray, +with steely sunlight. Spring breathed in the air, but the women passing +along Fifty-seventh Street wore furs and wraps. She heard the distant +clatter of an L train and then the hum of a motor car. A hurdy-gurdy +jarred into the interval of quiet. + +“Glenn has been gone over a year,” she mused, “three months over a +year—and of all his strange letters this seems the strangest yet.” + +She lived again, for the thousandth time, the last moments she had +spent with him. It had been on New-Year’s Eve, 1918. They had called +upon friends who were staying at the McAlpin, in a suite on the +twenty-first floor overlooking Broadway. And when the last quarter hour +of that eventful and tragic year began slowly to pass with the low +swell of whistles and bells, Carley’s friends had discreetly left her +alone with her lover, at the open window, to watch and hear the old +year out, the new year in. Glenn Kilbourne had returned from France +early that fall, shell-shocked and gassed, and otherwise incapacitated +for service in the army—a wreck of his former sterling self and in many +unaccountable ways a stranger to her. Cold, silent, haunted by +something, he had made her miserable with his aloofness. But as the +bells began to ring out the year that had been his ruin Glenn had drawn +her close, tenderly, passionately, and yet strangely, too. + +“Carley, look and listen!” he had whispered. + +Under them stretched the great long white flare of Broadway, with its +snow-covered length glittering under a myriad of electric lights. Sixth +Avenue swerved away to the right, a less brilliant lane of blanched +snow. The L trains crept along like huge fire-eyed serpents. The hum of +the ceaseless moving line of motor cars drifted upward faintly, almost +drowned in the rising clamor of the street. Broadway’s gay and +thoughtless crowds surged to and fro, from that height merely a thick +stream of black figures, like contending columns of ants on the march. +And everywhere the monstrous electric signs flared up vivid in white +and red and green; and dimmed and paled, only to flash up again. + +Ring out the Old! Ring in the New! Carley had poignantly felt the +sadness of the one, the promise of the other. As one by one the siren +factory whistles opened up with deep, hoarse bellow, the clamor of the +street and the ringing of the bells were lost in a volume of continuous +sound that swelled on high into a magnificent roar. It was the voice of +a city—of a nation. It was the voice of a people crying out the strife +and the agony of the year—pealing forth a prayer for the future. + +Glenn had put his lips to her ear: “It’s like the voice in my soul!” +Never would she forget the shock of that. And how she had stood +spellbound, enveloped in the mighty volume of sound no longer +discordant, but full of great, pregnant melody, until the white ball +burst upon the tower of the Times Building, showing the bright figures +1919. + +The new year had not been many minutes old when Glenn Kilbourne had +told her he was going West to try to recover his health. + +Carley roused out of her memories to take up the letter that had so +perplexed her. It bore the postmark, Flagstaff, Arizona. She reread it +with slow pondering thoughtfulness. + +WEST FORK, +_March_ 25. + + +DEAR CARLEY: + +It does seem my neglect in writing you is unpardonable. I used to be a +pretty fair correspondent, but in that as in other things I have +changed. + +One reason I have not answered sooner is because your letter was so +sweet and loving that it made me feel an ungrateful and unappreciative +wretch. Another is that this life I now lead does not induce writing. I +am outdoors all day, and when I get back to this cabin at night I am +too tired for anything but bed. + +Your imperious questions I must answer—and that _must_, of course, is a +third reason why I have delayed my reply. First, you ask, “Don’t you +love me any more as you used to?”... Frankly, I do not. I am sure my +old love for you, before I went to France, was selfish, thoughtless, +sentimental, and boyish. I am a man now. And my love for you is +different. Let me assure you that it has been about all left to me of +what is noble and beautiful. Whatever the changes in me for the worse, +my love for you, at least, has grown better, finer, purer. + +And now for your second question, “Are you coming home as soon as you +are well again?”... Carley, I _am_ well. I have delayed telling you +this because I knew you would expect me to rush back East with the +telling. But—the fact is, Carley, I am not coming—just yet. I wish it +were possible for me to make you understand. For a long time I seem to +have been frozen within. You know when I came back from France I +couldn’t talk. It’s almost as bad as that now. Yet all that I was then +seems to have changed again. It is only fair to you to tell you that, +as I feel now, I hate the city, I hate people, and particularly I hate +that dancing, drinking, lounging set you chase with. I don’t want to +come East until I am over that, you know... Suppose I never get over +it? Well, Carley, you can free yourself from me by one word that I +could never utter. I could never break our engagement. During the hell +I went through in the war my attachment to you saved me from moral +ruin, if it did not from perfect honor and fidelity. This is another +thing I despair of making you understand. And in the chaos I’ve +wandered through _since_ the war my love for you was my only anchor. +You never guessed, did you, that I lived on your letters until I got +well. And now the fact that I might get along without them is no +discredit to their charm or to you. + +It is all so hard to put in words, Carley. To lie down with death and +get up with death was nothing. To face one’s degradation was nothing. +But to come home an incomprehensibly changed man—and to see my old life +as strange as if it were the new life of another planet—to try to slip +into the old groove—well, no words of mine can tell you how utterly +impossible it was. + +My old job was not open to me, even if I had been able to work. The +government that I fought for left me to starve, or to die of my +maladies like a dog, for all it cared. + +I could not live on your money, Carley. My people are poor, as you +know. So there was nothing for me to do but to borrow a little money +from my friends and to come West. I’m glad I had the courage to come. +What this West is I’ll never try to tell you, because, loving the +luxury and excitement and glitter of the city as you do, you’d think I +was crazy. + +Getting on here, in my condition, was as hard as trench life. But now, +Carley—something has come to me out of the West. That, too, I am unable +to put into words. Maybe I can give you an inkling of it. I’m strong +enough to chop wood all day. No man or woman passes my cabin in a +month. But I am never lonely. I love these vast red canyon walls +towering above me. And the silence is so sweet. Think of the hellish +din that filled my ears. Even now—sometimes, the brook here changes its +babbling murmur to the roar of war. I never understood anything of the +meaning of nature until I lived under these looming stone walls and +whispering pines. + +So, Carley, try to understand me, or at least be kind. You know they +came very near writing, “Gone west!” after my name, and considering +_that_, this “Out West” signifies for me a very fortunate difference. A +tremendous difference! For the present I’ll let well enough alone. + + +_Adios_. Write soon. Love from +GLENN. + + +Carley’s second reaction to the letter was a sudden upflashing desire +to see her lover—to go out West and find him. Impulses with her were +rather rare and inhibited, but this one made her tremble. If Glenn was +well again he must have vastly changed from the moody, stone-faced, and +haunted-eyed man who had so worried and distressed her. He had +embarrassed her, too, for sometimes, in her home, meeting young men +there who had not gone into the service, he had seemed to retreat into +himself, singularly aloof, as if his world was not theirs. + +Again, with eager eyes and quivering lips, she read the letter. It +contained words that lifted her heart. Her starved love greedily +absorbed them. In them she had excuse for any resolve that might bring +Glenn closer to her. And she pondered over this longing to go to him. + +Carley had the means to come and go and live as she liked. She did not +remember her father, who had died when she was a child. Her mother had +left her in the care of a sister, and before the war they had divided +their time between New York and Europe, the Adirondacks and Florida, +Carley had gone in for Red Cross and relief work with more of sincerity +than most of her set. But she was really not used to making any +decision as definite and important as that of going out West alone. She +had never been farther west than Jersey City; and her conception of the +West was a hazy one of vast plains and rough mountains, squalid towns, +cattle herds, and uncouth ill-clad men. + +So she carried the letter to her aunt, a rather slight woman with a +kindly face and shrewd eyes, and who appeared somewhat given to +old-fashioned garments. + +“Aunt Mary, here’s a letter from Glenn,” said Carley. “It’s more of a +stumper than usual. Please read it.” + +“Dear me! You look upset,” replied the aunt, mildly, and, adjusting her +spectacles, she took the letter. + +Carley waited impatiently for the perusal, conscious of inward forces +coming more and more to the aid of her impulse to go West. Her aunt +paused once to murmur how glad she was that Glenn had gotten well. Then +she read on to the close. + +“Carley, that’s a fine letter,” she said, fervently. “Do you see +through it?” + +“No, I don’t,” replied Carley. “That’s why I asked you to read it.” + +“Do you still love Glenn as you used to before—” + +“Why, Aunt Mary!” exclaimed Carley, in surprise. + +“Excuse me, Carley, if I’m blunt. But the fact is young women of modern +times are very different from my kind when I was a girl. You haven’t +acted as though you pined for Glenn. You gad around almost the same as +ever.” + +“What’s a girl to do?” protested Carley. + +“You are twenty-six years old, Carley,” retorted Aunt Mary. + +“Suppose I am. I’m as young—as I ever was.” + +“Well, let’s not argue about modern girls and modern times. We never +get anywhere,” returned her aunt, kindly. “But I can tell you something +of what Glenn Kilbourne means in that letter—if you want to hear it.” + +“I do—indeed.” + +“The war did something horrible to Glenn aside from wrecking his +health. Shell-shock, they said! I don’t understand that. Out of his +mind, they said! But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, +and, my dear, that’s pretty sane, I’ll have you remember. But he must +have suffered some terrible blight to his spirit—some blunting of his +soul. For months after he returned he walked as one in a trance. Then +came a change. He grew restless. Perhaps that change was for the +better. At least it showed he’d roused. Glenn saw you and your friends +and the life you lead, and all the present, with eyes from which the +scales had dropped. He saw what was _wrong_. He never said so to me, +but I knew it. It wasn’t only to get well that he went West. It was to +get away.... And, Carley Burch, if your happiness depends on him you +had better be up and doing—or you’ll _lose_ him!” + +“Aunt Mary!” gasped Carley. + +“I mean it. That letter shows how near he came to the Valley of the +Shadow—and how he has become a man.... If I were you I’d go out West. +Surely there must be a place where it would be all right for you to +stay.” + +“Oh, yes,” replied Carley, eagerly. “Glenn wrote me there was a lodge +where people went in nice weather—right down in the canyon not far from +his place. Then, of course, the town—Flagstaff—isn’t far.... Aunt Mary, +I think I’ll go.” + +“I would. You’re certainly wasting your time here.” + +“But I could only go for a visit,” rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. “A +month, perhaps six weeks, if I could stand it.” + +“Seems to me if you can stand New York you could stand that place,” +said Aunt Mary, dryly. + +“The idea of staying away from New York any length of time—why, I +couldn’t do it I... But I can stay out there long enough to bring Glenn +back with me.” + +“That may take you longer than you think,” replied her aunt, with a +gleam in her shrewd eyes. “If you want my advice you will surprise +Glenn. Don’t write him—don’t give him a chance to—well to suggest +courteously that you’d better not come just yet. I don’t like his words +‘just yet.’” + +“Auntie, you’re—rather—more than blunt,” said Carley, divided between +resentment and amaze. “Glenn would be simply wild to have me come.” + +“Maybe he would. Has he ever asked you?” + +“No-o—come to think of it, he hasn’t,” replied Carley, reluctantly. +“Aunt Mary, you hurt my feelings.” + +“Well, child, I’m glad to learn your feelings are hurt,” returned the +aunt. “I’m sure, Carley, that underneath all this—this blasé ultra +something you’ve acquired, there’s a real heart. Only you must hurry +and listen to it—or—” + +“Or what?” queried Carley. + +Aunt Mary shook her gray head sagely. “Never mind what. Carley, I’d +like your idea of the most significant thing in Glenn’s letter.” + +“Why, his love for me, of course!” replied Carley. + +“Naturally you think that. But I don’t. What struck me most were his +words, ‘out of the West.’ Carley, you’d do well to ponder over them.” + +“I will,” rejoined Carley, positively. “I’ll do more. I’ll go out to +his wonderful West and see what he meant by them.” + +Carley Burch possessed in full degree the prevailing modern craze for +speed. She loved a motor-car ride at sixty miles an hour along a +smooth, straight road, or, better, on the level seashore of Ormond, +where on moonlight nights the white blanched sand seemed to flash +toward her. Therefore quite to her taste was the Twentieth Century +Limited which was hurtling her on the way to Chicago. The unceasingly +smooth and even rush of the train satisfied something in her. An old +lady sitting in an adjoining seat with a companion amused Carley by the +remark: “I wish we didn’t go so fast. People nowadays haven’t time to +draw a comfortable breath. Suppose we should run off the track!” + +Carley had no fear of express trains, or motor cars, or transatlantic +liners; in fact, she prided herself in not being afraid of anything. +But she wondered if this was not the false courage of association with +a crowd. Before this enterprise at hand she could not remember anything +she had undertaken alone. Her thrills seemed to be in abeyance to the +end of her journey. That night her sleep was permeated with the steady +low whirring of the wheels. Once, roused by a jerk, she lay awake in +the darkness while the thought came to her that she and all her fellow +passengers were really at the mercy of the engineer. Who was he, and +did he stand at his throttle keen and vigilant, thinking of the lives +intrusted to him? Such thoughts vaguely annoyed Carley, and she +dismissed them. + +A long half-day wait in Chicago was a tedious preliminary to the second +part of her journey. But at last she found herself aboard the +California Limited, and went to bed with a relief quite a stranger to +her. The glare of the sun under the curtain awakened her. Propped up on +her pillows, she looked out at apparently endless green fields or +pastures, dotted now and then with little farmhouses and tree-skirted +villages. This country, she thought, must be the prairie land she +remembered lay west of the Mississippi. + +Later, in the dining car, the steward smilingly answered her question: +“This is Kansas, and those green fields out there are the wheat that +feeds the nation.” + +Carley was not impressed. The color of the short wheat appeared soft +and rich, and the boundless fields stretched away monotonously. She had +not known there was so much flat land in the world, and she imagined it +might be a fine country for automobile roads. When she got back to her +seat she drew the blinds down and read her magazines. Then tiring of +that, she went back to the observation car. Carley was accustomed to +attracting attention, and did not resent it, unless she was annoyed. +The train evidently had a full complement of passengers, who, as far as +Carley could see, were people not of her station in life. The glare +from the many windows, and the rather crass interest of several men, +drove her back to her own section. There she discovered that some one +had drawn up her window shades. Carley promptly pulled them down and +settled herself comfortably. Then she heard a woman speak, not +particularly low: “I thought people traveled west to see the country.” +And a man replied, rather dryly. “Wal, not always.” His companion went +on: “If that girl was mine I’d let down her skirt.” The man laughed and +replied: “Martha, you’re shore behind the times. Look at the pictures +in the magazines.” + +Such remarks amused Carley, and later she took advantage of an +opportunity to notice her neighbors. They appeared a rather quaint old +couple, reminding her of the natives of country towns in the +Adirondacks. She was not amused, however, when another of her woman +neighbors, speaking low, referred to her as a “lunger.” Carley +appreciated the fact that she was pale, but she assured herself that +there ended any possible resemblance she might have to a consumptive. +And she was somewhat pleased to hear this woman’s male companion +forcibly voice her own convictions. In fact, he was nothing if not +admiring. + +Kansas was interminably long to Carley, and she went to sleep before +riding out of it. Next morning she found herself looking out at the +rough gray and black land of New Mexico. She searched the horizon for +mountains, but there did not appear to be any. She received a vague, +slow-dawning impression that was hard to define. She did not like the +country, though that was not the impression which eluded her. Bare gray +flats, low scrub-fringed hills, bleak cliffs, jumble after jumble of +rocks, and occasionally a long vista down a valley, somehow +compelling—these passed before her gaze until she tired of them. Where +was the West Glenn had written about? One thing seemed sure, and it was +that every mile of this crude country brought her nearer to him. This +recurring thought gave Carley all the pleasure she had felt so far in +this endless ride. It struck her that England or France could be +dropped down into New Mexico and scarcely noticed. + +By and by the sun grew hot, the train wound slowly and creakingly +upgrade, the car became full of dust, all of which was disagreeable to +Carley. She dozed on her pillow for hours, until she was stirred by a +passenger crying out, delightedly: “Look! Indians!” + +Carley looked, not without interest. As a child she had read about +Indians, and memory returned images both colorful and romantic. From +the car window she espied dusty flat barrens, low squat mud houses, and +queer-looking little people, children naked or extremely ragged and +dirty, women in loose garments with flares of red, and men in white +man’s garb, slovenly and motley. All these strange individuals stared +apathetically as the train slowly passed. + +“Indians,” muttered Carley, incredulously. “Well, if they are the noble +red people, my illusions are dispelled.” She did not look out of the +window again, not even when the brakeman called out the remarkable name +of Albuquerque. + +Next day Carley’s languid attention quickened to the name of Arizona, +and to the frowning red walls of rock, and to the vast rolling +stretches of cedar-dotted land. Nevertheless, it affronted her. This +was no country for people to live in, and so far as she could see it +was indeed uninhabited. Her sensations were not, however, limited to +sight. She became aware of unfamiliar disturbing little shocks or +vibrations in her ear drums, and after that a disagreeable bleeding of +the nose. The porter told her this was owing to the altitude. Thus, one +thing and another kept Carley most of the time away from the window, so +that she really saw very little of the country. From what she had seen +she drew the conviction that she had not missed much. At sunset she +deliberately gazed out to discover what an Arizona sunset was like just +a pale yellow flare! She had seen better than that above the Palisades. +Not until reaching Winslow did she realize how near she was to her +journey’s end and that she would arrive at Flagstaff after dark. She +grew conscious of nervousness. Suppose Flagstaff were like these other +queer little towns! + +Not only once, but several times before the train slowed down for her +destination did Carley wish she had sent Glenn word to meet her. And +when, presently, she found herself standing out in the dark, cold, +windy night before a dim-lit railroad station she more than regretted +her decision to surprise Glenn. But that was too late and she must make +the best of her poor judgment. + +Men were passing to and fro on the platform, some of whom appeared to +be very dark of skin and eye, and were probably Mexicans. At length an +expressman approached Carley, soliciting patronage. He took her bags +and, depositing them in a wagon, he pointed up the wide street: “One +block up an’ turn. Hotel Wetherford.” Then he drove off. Carley +followed, carrying her small satchel. A cold wind, driving the dust, +stung her face as she crossed the street to a high sidewalk that +extended along the block. There were lights in the stores and on the +corners, yet she seemed impressed by a dark, cold, windy bigness. Many +people, mostly men, were passing up and down, and there were motor cars +everywhere. No one paid any attention to her. Gaining the corner of the +block, she turned, and was relieved to see the hotel sign. As she +entered the lobby a clicking of pool balls and the discordant rasp of a +phonograph assailed her ears. The expressman set down her bags and left +Carley standing there. The clerk or proprietor was talking from behind +his desk to several men, and there were loungers in the lobby. The air +was thick with tobacco smoke. No one paid any attention to Carley until +at length she stepped up to the desk and interrupted the conversation +there. + +“Is this a hotel?” she queried, brusquely. + +The shirt-sleeved individual leisurely turned and replied, “Yes, +ma’am.” + +And Carley said: “No one would recognize it by the courtesy shown. I +have been standing here waiting to register.” + +With the same leisurely case and a cool, laconic stare the clerk turned +the book toward her. “Reckon people round here ask for what they want.” + +Carley made no further comment. She assuredly recognized that what she +had been accustomed to could not be expected out here. What she most +wished to do at the moment was to get close to the big open grate where +a cheery red-and-gold fire cracked. It was necessary, however, to +follow the clerk. He assigned her to a small drab room which contained +a bed, a bureau, and a stationary washstand with one spigot. There was +also a chair. While Carley removed her coat and hat the clerk went +downstairs for the rest of her luggage. Upon his return Carley learned +that a stage left the hotel for Oak Creek Canyon at nine o’clock next +morning. And this cheered her so much that she faced the strange sense +of loneliness and discomfort with something of fortitude. There was no +heat in the room, and no hot water. When Carley squeezed the spigot +handle there burst forth a torrent of water that spouted up out of the +washbasin to deluge her. It was colder than any ice water she had ever +felt. It was piercingly cold. Hard upon the surprise and shock Carley +suffered a flash of temper. But then the humor of it struck her and she +had to laugh. + +“Serves you right—you spoiled doll of luxury!” she mocked. “This is out +West. Shiver and wait on yourself!” + +Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick +woollen blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness, +too, seemed rather comforting. + +“I’m only twenty miles from Glenn,” she whispered. “How strange! I +wonder will he be glad.” She felt a sweet, glowing assurance of that. +Sleep did not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, and +for a long time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, +the click of pool balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she +heard a sound of wind outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her +ears, and somehow pleasant. Another sound greeted her—the musical +clanging of a clock that struck the quarters of the hour. Some time +late sleep claimed her. + +Upon awakening she found she had overslept, necessitating haste upon +her part. As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of +leisurely dressing. She had no adequate name for the feeling of the +water. And her fingers grew so numb that she made what she considered a +disgraceful matter of her attire. + +Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate. +How perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb +hands almost into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain +that slowly warmed out of them. The lobby was deserted. A sign directed +her to a dining room in the basement, where of the ham and eggs and +strong coffee she managed to partake a little. Then she went upstairs +into the lobby and out into the street. + +A cold, piercing air seemed to blow right through her. Walking to the +near corner, she paused to look around. Down the main street flowed a +leisurely stream of pedestrians, horses, cars, extending between two +blocks of low buildings. Across from where she stood lay a vacant lot, +beyond which began a line of neat, oddly constructed houses, evidently +residences of the town. And then lifting her gaze, instinctively drawn +by something obstructing the sky line, she was suddenly struck with +surprise and delight. + +“Oh! how perfectly splendid!” she burst out. + +Two magnificent mountains loomed right over her, sloping up with +majestic sweep of green and black timber, to a ragged tree-fringed snow +area that swept up cleaner and whiter, at last to lift pure glistening +peaks, noble and sharp, and sunrise-flushed against the blue. + +Carley had climbed Mont Blanc and she had seen the Matterhorn, but they +had never struck such amaze and admiration from her as these twin peaks +of her native land. + +“What mountains are those?” she asked a passer-by. + +“San Francisco Peaks, ma’am,” replied the man. + +“Why, they can’t be over a mile away!” she said. + +“Eighteen miles, ma’am,” he returned, with a grin. “Shore this Arizonie +air is deceivin’.” + +“How strange,” murmured Carley. “It’s not that way in the Adirondacks.” + +She was still gazing upward when a man approached her and said the +stage for Oak Creek Canyon would soon be ready to start, and he wanted +to know if her baggage was ready. Carley hurried back to her room to +pack. + +She had expected the stage would be a motor bus, or at least a large +touring car, but it turned out to be a two-seated vehicle drawn by a +team of ragged horses. The driver was a little wizen-faced man of +doubtful years, and he did not appear obviously susceptible to the +importance of his passenger. There was considerable freight to be +hauled, besides Carley’s luggage, but evidently she was the only +passenger. + +“Reckon it’s goin’ to be a bad day,” said the driver. “These April days +high up on the desert are windy an’ cold. Mebbe it’ll snow, too. Them +clouds hangin’ around the peaks ain’t very promisin’. Now, miss, +haven’t you a heavier coat or somethin’?” + +“No, I have not,” replied Carley. “I’ll have to stand it. Did you say +this was desert?” + +“I shore did. Wal, there’s a hoss blanket under the seat, an’ you can +have that,” he replied, and, climbing to the seat in front of Carley, +he took up the reins and started the horses off at a trot. + +At the first turning Carley became specifically acquainted with the +driver’s meaning of a bad day. A gust of wind, raw and penetrating, +laden with dust and stinging sand, swept full in her face. It came so +suddenly that she was scarcely quick enough to close her eyes. It took +considerable clumsy effort on her part with a handkerchief, aided by +relieving tears, to clear her sight again. Thus uncomfortably Carley +found herself launched on the last lap of her journey. + +All before her and alongside lay the squalid environs of the town. +Looked back at, with the peaks rising behind, it was not unpicturesque. +But the hard road with its sheets of flying dust, the bleak railroad +yards, the round pens she took for cattle corrals, and the sordid +debris littering the approach to a huge sawmill,—these were offensive +in Carley’s sight. From a tall dome-like stack rose a yellowish smoke +that spread overhead, adding to the lowering aspect of the sky. Beyond +the sawmill extended the open country sloping somewhat roughly, and +evidently once a forest, but now a hideous bare slash, with ghastly +burned stems of trees still standing, and myriads of stumps attesting +to denudation. + +The bleak road wound away to the southwest, and from this direction +came the gusty wind. It did not blow regularly so that Carley could be +on her guard. It lulled now and then, permitting her to look about, and +then suddenly again whipping dust into her face. The smell of the dust +was as unpleasant as the sting. It made her nostrils smart. It was +penetrating, and a little more of it would have been suffocating. And +as a leaden gray bank of broken clouds rolled up the wind grew stronger +and the air colder. Chilled before, Carley now became thoroughly cold. + +There appeared to be no end to the devastated forest land, and the +farther she rode the more barren and sordid grew the landscape. Carley +forgot about the impressive mountains behind her. And as the ride wore +into hours, such was her discomfort and disillusion that she forgot +about Glenn Kilbourne. She did not reach the point of regretting her +adventure, but she grew mightily unhappy. Now and then she espied +dilapidated log cabins and surroundings even more squalid than the +ruined forest. What wretched abodes! Could it be possible that people +had lived in them? She imagined men had but hardly women and children. +Somewhere she had forgotten an idea that women and children were +extremely scarce in the West. + +Straggling bits of forest—yellow pines, the driver called the +trees—began to encroach upon the burned-over and arid barren land. To +Carley these groves, by reason of contrast and proof of what once was, +only rendered the landscape more forlorn and dreary. Why had these +miles and miles of forest been cut? By money grubbers, she supposed, +the same as were devastating the Adirondacks. Presently, when the +driver had to halt to repair or adjust something wrong with the +harness, Carley was grateful for a respite from cold inaction. She got +out and walked. Sleet began to fall, and when she resumed her seat in +the vehicle she asked the driver for the blanket to cover her. The +smell of this horse blanket was less endurable than the cold. Carley +huddled down into a state of apathetic misery. Already she had enough +of the West. + +But the sleet storm passed, the clouds broke, the sun shone through, +greatly mitigating her discomfort. By and by the road led into a +section of real forest, unspoiled in any degree. Carley saw large gray +squirrels with tufted ears and white bushy tails. Presently the driver +pointed out a flock of huge birds, which Carley, on second glance, +recognized as turkeys, only these were sleek and glossy, with flecks of +bronze and black and white, quite different from turkeys back East. +“There must be a farm near,” said Carley, gazing about. + +“No, ma’am. Them’s wild turkeys,” replied the driver, “an’ shore the +best eatin’ you ever had in your life.” + +A little while afterwards, as they were emerging from the woodland into +more denuded country, he pointed out to Carley a herd of gray +white-rumped animals that she took to be sheep. + +“An’ them’s antelope,” he said. “Once this desert was overrun by +antelope. Then they nearly disappeared. An’ now they’re increasin’ +again.” + +More barren country, more bad weather, and especially an exceedingly +rough road reduced Carley to her former state of dejection. The jolting +over roots and rocks and ruts was worse than uncomfortable. She had to +hold on to the seat to keep from being thrown out. The horses did not +appreciably change their gait for rough sections of the road. Then a +more severe jolt brought Carley’s knee in violent contact with an iron +bolt on the forward seat, and it hurt her so acutely that she had to +bite her lips to keep from screaming. A smoother stretch of road did +not come any too soon for her. + +It led into forest again. And Carley soon became aware that they had at +last left the cut and burned-over district of timberland behind. A cold +wind moaned through the treetops and set the drops of water pattering +down upon her. It lashed her wet face. Carley closed her eyes and +sagged in her seat, mostly oblivious to the passing scenery. “The girls +will never believe this of me,” she soliloquized. And indeed she was +amazed at herself. Then thought of Glenn strengthened her. It did not +really matter what she suffered on the way to him. Only she was +disgusted at her lack of stamina, and her appalling sensitiveness to +discomfort. + +“Wal, hyar’s Oak Creek Canyon,” called the driver. + +Carley, rousing out of her weary preoccupation, opened her eyes to see +that the driver had halted at a turn of the road, where apparently it +descended a fearful declivity. + +The very forest-fringed earth seemed to have opened into a deep abyss, +ribbed by red rock walls and choked by steep mats of green timber. The +chasm was a V-shaped split and so deep that looking downward sent at +once a chill and a shudder over Carley. At that point it appeared +narrow and ended in a box. In the other direction, it widened and +deepened, and stretched farther on between tremendous walls of red, and +split its winding floor of green with glimpses of a gleaming creek, +bowlder-strewn and ridged by white rapids. A low mellow roar of rushing +waters floated up to Carley’s ears. What a wild, lonely, terrible +place! Could Glenn possibly live down there in that ragged rent in the +earth? It frightened her—the sheer sudden plunge of it from the +heights. Far down the gorge a purple light shone on the forested floor. +And on the moment the sun burst through the clouds and sent a golden +blaze down into the depths, transforming them incalculably. The great +cliffs turned gold, the creek changed to glancing silver, the green of +trees vividly freshened, and in the clefts rays of sunlight burned into +the blue shadows. Carley had never gazed upon a scene like this. +Hostile and prejudiced, she yet felt wrung from her an acknowledgment +of beauty and grandeur. But wild, violent, savage! Not livable! This +insulated rift in the crust of the earth was a gigantic burrow for +beasts, perhaps for outlawed men—not for a civilized person—not for +Glenn Kilbourne. + +“Don’t be scart, ma’am,” spoke up the driver. “It’s safe if you’re +careful. An’ I’ve druv this manys the time.” + +Carley’s heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted +assurance of fearlessness. Then the rickety vehicle started down at an +angle that forced her to cling to her seat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin, +gazed in fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes the +wheels on that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the +edge. The brakes squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the +scrape of the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they held back stiff +legged, obedient to the wary call of the driver. + +The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff +appeared to be the worst. It began to widen, with descents less +precipitous. Tips of trees rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight +of the blue depths. Then brush appeared on each side of the road. +Gradually Carley’s strain relaxed, and also the muscular contraction by +which she had braced herself in the seat. The horses began to trot +again. The wheels rattled. The road wound around abrupt corners, and +soon the green and red wall of the opposite side of the canyon loomed +close. Low roar of running water rose to Carley’s ears. When at length +she looked out instead of down she could see nothing but a mass of +green foliage crossed by tree trunks and branches of brown and gray. +Then the vehicle bowled under dark cool shade, into a tunnel with mossy +wet cliff on one side, and close-standing trees on the other. + +“Reckon we’re all right now, onless we meet somebody comin’ up,” +declared the driver. + +Carley relaxed. She drew a deep breath of relief. She had her first +faint intimation that perhaps her extensive experience of motor cars, +express trains, transatlantic liners, and even a little of airplanes, +did not range over the whole of adventurous life. She was likely to +meet something, entirely new and striking out here in the West. + +The murmur of falling water sounded closer. Presently Carley saw that +the road turned at the notch in the canyon, and crossed a clear swift +stream. Here were huge mossy boulders, and red walls covered by +lichens, and the air appeared dim and moist, and full of mellow, hollow +roar. Beyond this crossing the road descended the west side of the +canyon, drawing away and higher from the creek. Huge trees, the like of +which Carley had never seen, began to stand majestically up out of the +gorge, dwarfing the maples and white-spotted sycamores. The driver +called these great trees yellow pines. + +At last the road led down from the steep slope to the floor of the +canyon. What from far above had appeared only a green timber-choked +cleft proved from close relation to be a wide winding valley, tip and +down, densely forested for the most part, yet having open glades and +bisected from wall to wall by the creek. Every quarter of a mile or so +the road crossed the stream; and at these fords Carley again held on +desperately and gazed out dubiously, for the creek was deep, swift, and +full of bowlders. Neither driver nor horses appeared to mind obstacles. +Carley was splashed and jolted not inconsiderably. They passed through +groves of oak trees, from which the creek manifestly derived its name; +and under gleaming walls, cold, wet, gloomy, and silent; and between +lines of solemn wide-spreading pines. Carley saw deep, still green +pools eddying under huge massed jumble of cliffs, and stretches of +white water, and then, high above the treetops, a wild line of canyon +rim, cold against the sky. She felt shut in from the world, lost in an +unscalable rut of the earth. Again the sunlight had failed, and the +gray gloom of the canyon oppressed her. It struck Carley as singular +that she could not help being affected by mere weather, mere heights +and depths, mere rock walls and pine trees, and rushing water. For +really, what had these to do with her? These were only physical things +that she was passing. Nevertheless, although she resisted sensation, +she was more and more shot through and through with the wildness and +savageness of this canyon. + +A sharp turn of the road to the right disclosed a slope down the creek, +across which showed orchards and fields, and a cottage nestling at the +base of the wall. The ford at this crossing gave Carley more concern +than any that had been passed, for there was greater volume and depth +of water. One of the horses slipped on the rocks, plunged up and on +with great splash. They crossed, however, without more mishap to Carley +than further acquaintance with this iciest of waters. From this point +the driver turned back along the creek, passed between orchards and +fields, and drove along the base of the red wall to come suddenly upon +a large rustic house that had been hidden from Carley’s sight. It sat +almost against the stone cliff, from which poured a white foamy sheet +of water. The house was built of slabs with the bark on, and it had a +lower and upper porch running all around, at least as far as the cliff. +Green growths from the rock wall overhung the upper porch. A column of +blue smoke curled lazily upward from a stone chimney. On one of the +porch posts hung a sign with rude lettering: “Lolomi Lodge.” + +“Hey, Josh, did you fetch the flour?” called a woman’s voice from +inside. + +“Hullo I Reckon I didn’t forgit nothin’,” replied the man, as he got +down. “An’ say, Mrs. Hutter, hyar’s a young lady from Noo Yorrk.” + +That latter speech of the driver’s brought Mrs. Hutter out on the +porch. “Flo, come here,” she called to some one evidently near at hand. +And then she smilingly greeted Carley. + +“Get down an’ come in, miss,” she said. “I’m sure glad to see you.” + +Carley, being stiff and cold, did not very gracefully disengage herself +from the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch she +saw that Mrs. Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, with +strong face full of fine wavy lines, and kind dark eyes. + +“I’m Miss Burch,” said Carley. + +“You’re the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace,” +declared the woman, heartily. “I’m sure glad to meet you, an’ my +daughter Flo will be, too.” + +That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. “Yes, I’m Glenn +Kilbourne’s fiancée. I’ve come West to surprise him. Is he here.... +Is—is he well?” + +“Fine. I saw him yesterday. He’s changed a great deal from what he was +at first. Most all the last few months. I reckon you won’t know him.... +But you’re wet an’ cold an’ you look fagged. Come right in to the +fire.” + +“Thank you; I’m all right,” returned Carley. + +At the doorway they encountered a girl of lithe and robust figure, +quick in her movements. Carley was swift to see the youth and grace of +her; and then a face that struck Carley as neither pretty nor +beautiful, but still wonderfully attractive. + +“Flo, here’s Miss Burch,” burst out Mrs. Hutter, with cheerful +importance. “Glenn Kilbourne’s girl come all the way from New York to +surprise him!” + +“Oh, Carley, I’m shore happy to meet you!” said the girl, in a voice of +slow drawling richness. “I know you. Glenn has told me all about you.” + +If this greeting, sweet and warm as it seemed, was a shock to Carley, +she gave no sign. But as she murmured something in reply she looked +with all a woman’s keenness into the face before her. Flo Hutter had a +fair skin generously freckled; a mouth and chin too firmly cut to +suggest a softer feminine beauty; and eyes of clear light hazel, +penetrating, frank, fearless. Her hair was very abundant, almost +silver-gold in color, and it was either rebellious or showed lack of +care. Carley liked the girl’s looks and liked the sincerity of her +greeting; but instinctively she reacted antagonistically because of the +frank suggestion of intimacy with Glenn. + +But for that she would have been spontaneous and friendly rather than +restrained. + +They ushered Carley into a big living room and up to a fire of blazing +logs, where they helped divest her of the wet wraps. And all the time +they talked in the solicitous way natural to women who were kind and +unused to many visitors. Then Mrs. Hutter bustled off to make a cup of +hot coffee while Flo talked. + +“We’ll shore give you the nicest room—with a sleeping porch right under +the cliff where the water falls. It’ll sing you to sleep. Of course you +needn’t use the bed outdoors until it’s warmer. Spring is late here, +you know, and we’ll have nasty weather yet. You really happened on Oak +Creek at its least attractive season. But then it’s always—well, just +Oak Creek. You’ll come to know.” + +“I dare say I’ll remember my first sight of it and the ride down that +cliff road,” said Carley, with a wan smile. + +“Oh, that’s nothing to what you’ll see and do,” returned Flo, +knowingly. “We’ve had Eastern tenderfeet here before. And never was +there a one of them who didn’t come to love Arizona.” + +“Tenderfoot! It hadn’t occurred to me. But of course—” murmured Carley. + +Then Mrs. Hutter returned, carrying a tray, which she set upon a chair, +and drew to Carley’s side. “Eat an’ drink,” she said, as if these +actions were the cardinally important ones of life. “Flo, you carry her +bags up to that west room we always give to some particular person we +want to love Lolomi.” Next she threw sticks of wood upon the fire, +making it crackle and blaze, then seated herself near Carley and beamed +upon her. + +“You’ll not mind if we call you Carley?” she asked, eagerly. + +“Oh, indeed no! I—I’d like it,” returned Carley, made to feel friendly +and at home in spite of herself. + +“You see it’s not as if you were just a stranger,” went on Mrs. Hutter. +“Tom—that’s Flo’s father—took a likin’ to Glenn Kilbourne when he first +came to Oak Creek over a year ago. I wonder if you all know how sick +that soldier boy was.... Well, he lay on his back for two solid +weeks—in the room we’re givin’ you. An’ I for one didn’t think he’d +ever get up. But he did. An’ he got better. An’ after a while he went +to work for Tom. Then six months an’ more ago he invested in the sheep +business with Tom. He lived with us until he built his cabin up West +Fork. He an’ Flo have run together a good deal, an’ naturally he told +her about you. So you see you’re not a stranger. An’ we want you to +feel you’re with friends.” + +“I thank you, Mrs. Hutter,” replied Carley, feelingly. “I never could +thank you enough for being good to Glenn. I did not know he was so—so +sick. At first he wrote but seldom.” + +“Reckon he never wrote you or told you what he did in the war,” +declared Mrs. Hutter. + +“Indeed he never did!” + +“Well, I’ll tell you some day. For Tom found out all about him. Got +some of it from a soldier who came to Flagstaff for lung trouble. He’d +been in the same company with Glenn. We didn’t know this boy’s name +while he was in Flagstaff. But later Tom found out. John Henderson. He +was only twenty-two, a fine lad. An’ he died in Phœnix. We tried to get +him out here. But the boy wouldn’t live on charity. He was always +expectin’ money—a war bonus, whatever that was. It didn’t come. He was +a clerk at the El Tovar for a while. Then he came to Flagstaff. But it +was too cold an’ he stayed there too long.” + +“Too bad,” rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to the +suffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few +months, and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress +Carley. Always she had turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery +of unfortunates was as disturbing almost as direct contact with disease +and squalor. But it had begun to dawn upon Carley that there might +occur circumstances of life, in every way affronting her comfort and +happiness, which it would be impossible to turn her back upon. + +At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struck +with the girl’s singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure +poise and joy that seemed to emanate from her presence. + +“I’ve made a fire in your little stove,” she said. “There’s water +heating. Now won’t you come up and change those traveling clothes. +You’ll want to fix up for Glenn, won’t you?” + +Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank and +unsophisticated, and somehow refreshing. Carley rose. + +“You are both very good to receive me as a friend,” she said. “I hope I +shall not disappoint you.... Yes, I do want to improve my appearance +before Glenn sees me.... Is there any way I can send word to him—by +someone who has not seen me?” + +“There shore is. I’ll send Charley, one of our hired boys.” + +“Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York to +see him, and it is very important.” + +Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gave +Carley a little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust and +stifling thing. + +Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallway to +a room that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of falling +water assailed her ears. Through the open door she saw across the porch +to a white tumbling lacy veil of water falling, leaping, changing, so +close that it seemed to touch the heavy pole railing of the porch. + +This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no +ceiling. But the rough-hewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped +down closely. The furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the +floor. The bed with its woolly clean blankets and the white pillows +looked inviting. + +“Is this where Glenn lay—when he was sick?” queried Carley. + +“Yes,” replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. “I ought +to tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made +unhappy now.... Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his +side—for a while there—when life was so bad.” + +She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short +billets of wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep +an eye on it so that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to +herself. + +Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of her +heart every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon now to +be, but it was not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have a +difficult approach to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was so +different from her regular life. Besides she was tired. But these +explanations did not suffice. There was a pang in her breast which must +owe its origin to the fact that Glenn Kilbourne had been ill in this +little room and some other girl than Carley Burch had nursed him. “Am I +jealous?” she whispered. “No!” But she knew in her heart that she lied. +A woman could no more help being jealous, under such circumstances, +than she could help the beat and throb of her blood. Nevertheless, +Carley was glad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she would be +grateful to her for that kindness. + +Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bags +and hung her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then she lay +down to rest, with no intention of slumber. But there was a strange +magic in the fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in +the feel of the bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur +of the waterfall. She fell asleep. When she awakened it was five +o’clock. The fire in the stove was out, but the water was still warm. +She bathed and dressed, not without care, yet as swiftly as was her +habit at home; and she wore white because Glenn had always liked her +best in white. But it was assuredly not a gown to wear in a country +house where draughts of cold air filled the unheated rooms and halls. +So she threw round her a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful bars +becoming to her dark eyes and hair. + +All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be +permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of +waking life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, could +be wholly free of that sound. It vaguely tormented Carley, yet was not +uncomfortable. She went out upon the porch. The small alcove space held +a bed and a rustic chair. Above her the peeled poles of the roof +descended to within a few feet of her head. She had to lean over the +rail of the porch to look up. The green and red rock wall sheered +ponderously near. The waterfall showed first at the notch of a fissure, +where the cliff split; and down over smooth places the water gleamed, +to narrow in a crack with little drops, and suddenly to leap into a +thin white sheet. + +Out from the porch the view was restricted to glimpses between the +pines, and beyond to the opposite wall of the canyon. How shut-in, how +walled in this home! + +“In summer it might be good to spend a couple of weeks here,” +soliloquized Carley. “But to _live_ here? Heavens! A person might as +well be buried.” + +Heavy footsteps upon the porch below accompanied by a man’s voice +quickened Carley’s pulse. Did they belong to Glenn? After a strained +second she decided not. Nevertheless, the acceleration of her blood and +an unwonted glow of excitement, long a stranger to her, persisted as +she left the porch and entered the boarded hall. How gray and barn-like +this upper part of the house! From the head of the stairway, however, +the big living room presented a cheerful contrast. There were warm +colors, some comfortable rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and +an open fire which alone would have dispelled the raw gloom of the day. + +A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had +a clean-shaven face that might have been hard and stern but for his +smile, and one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo’s. + +“I’m Tom Hutter, an’ I’m shore glad to welcome you to Lolomi, Miss +Carley,” he said. His voice was deep and slow. There were ease and +force in his presence, and the grip he gave Carley’s hand was that of a +man who made no distinction in hand-shaking. Carley, quick in her +perceptions, instantly liked him and sensed in him a strong +personality. She greeted him in turn and expressed her thanks for his +goodness to Glenn. Naturally Carley expected him to say something about +her fiance, but he did not. + +“Well, Miss Carley, if you don’t mind, I’ll say you’re prettier than +your picture,” said Hutter. “An’ that is shore sayin’ a lot. All the +sheep herders in the country have taken a peep at your picture. Without +permission, you understand.” + +“I’m greatly flattered,” laughed Carley. + +“We’re glad you’ve come,” replied Hutter, simply. “I just got back from +the East myself. Chicago an’ Kansas City. I came to Arizona from +Illinois over thirty years ago. An’ this was my first trip since. +Reckon I’ve not got back my breath yet. Times have changed, Miss +Carley. Times an’ people!” + +Mrs. Hutter bustled in from the kitchen, where manifestly she had been +importantly engaged. “For the land’s sakes!” she exclaimed, fervently, +as she threw up her hands at sight of Carley. Her expression was indeed +a compliment, but there was a suggestion of shock in it. Then Flo came +in. She wore a simple gray gown that reached the top of her high shoes. + +“Carley, don’t mind mother,” said Flo. “She means your dress is lovely. +Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin’ up the +road.” + +Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a +tall man striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was +his walk—an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still +visible. She recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become +unstable. She watched him cross the road, face the house. How changed! +No—this was not Glenn Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of +shoulder, roughly garbed, heavy limbed, quite different from the Glenn +she remembered. He mounted the porch steps. And Carley, still unseen +herself, saw his face. Yes—Glenn! Hot blood seemed to be tingling +liberated in her veins. Wheeling away, she backed against the wall +behind the door and held up a warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. +Strange and disturbing then, to see something in Flo Hutter’s eyes that +could be read by a woman in only one way! + +A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted. + +“Flo!—who—where?” he began, breathlessly. + +His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley’s +ears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled out +that she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably +changed—not in the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm, +but in contour of cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line. +Carley’s heart swelled with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see +the sad fixed hopelessness, the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore +the restraint and nonchalance upon which Carley prided herself +sustained eclipse. + +“Glenn! Look—who’s—here!” she called, in voice she could not have +steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had +anticipated. + +Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then—no matter +how unreasonable or exacting had been Carley’s longings, they were +satisfied. + +“You!” he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face. + +Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but +forgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than the +all-satisfying assurance to her woman’s heart that she was still +beloved, welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook her +to her depths. It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and +to the West that had restored him. + +“Carley! I couldn’t believe it was you,” he declared, releasing her +from his close embrace, yet still holding her. + +“Yes, Glenn—it’s I—all you’ve left of me,” she replied, tremulously, +and she sought with unsteady hands to put up her dishevelled hair. +“You—you big sheep herder! You Goliath!” + +“I never was so knocked off my pins,” he said. “A lady to see me—from +New York!... Of course it had to be you. But I couldn’t believe. +Carley, you were good to come.” + +Somehow the soft, warm look of his dark eyes hurt her. New and strange +indeed it was to her, as were other things about him. Why had she not +come West sooner? She disengaged herself from his hold and moved away, +striving for the composure habitual with her. Flo Hutter was standing +before the fire, looking down. Mrs. Hutter beamed upon Carley. + +“Now let’s have supper,” she said. + +“Reckon Miss Carley can’t eat now, after that hug Glenn gave her,” +drawled Tom Hutter. “I was some worried. You see Glenn has gained +seventy pounds in six months. An’ he doesn’t know his strength.” + +“Seventy pounds!” exclaimed Carley, gayly. “I thought it was more.” + +“Carley, you must excuse my violence,” said Glenn. “I’ve been hugging +sheep. That is, when I shear a sheep I have to hold him.” + +They all laughed, and so the moment of readjustment passed. Presently +Carley found herself sitting at table, directly across from Flo. A +pearly whiteness was slowly warming out of the girl’s face. Her frank +clear eyes met Carley’s and they had nothing to hide. Carley’s first +requisite for character in a woman was that she be a thoroughbred. She +lacked it often enough herself to admire it greatly in another woman. +And that moment saw a birth of respect and sincere liking in her for +this Western girl. If Flo Hutter ever was a rival she would be an +honest one. + +Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he “reckoned +on general principles it was his hunch to go to bed.” Mrs. Hutter +suddenly discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her +cool sweet drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, “Shore you two +will want to spoon.” + +“Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for that,” +declared Glenn. + +“Too bad! Reckon I can’t see how love could ever be old-fashioned. Good +night, Glenn. Good night, Carley.” + +Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the light +from the lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to +Carley. It expressed unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up +the stairs to disappear. + +“Glenn, is that girl in love with you?” asked Carley, bluntly. + +To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilled +her, yet nettled her a little. + +“If that isn’t like you!” he ejaculated. “Your very first words after +we are left alone! It brings back the East, Carley.” + +“Probably recall to memory will be good for you,” returned Carley. “But +tell me. Is she in love with you?” + +“Why, no, certainly not!” replied Glenn. “Anyway, how could I answer +such a question? It just made me laugh, that’s all.” + +“Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a pretty +girl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle—before we became engaged,” +said Carley. + +“Old times! How long ago they seem!... Carley, it’s sure wonderful to +see you.” + +“How do you like my gown?” asked Carley, pirouetting for his benefit. + +“Well, what little there is of it is beautiful,” he replied, with a +slow smile. “I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?” + +“Yes. I got the gown for you. And I’ll never wear it except for you.” + +“Same old coquette—same old eternal feminine,” he said, half sadly. +“You know when you look stunning.... But, Carley, the cut of that—or +rather the abbreviation of it—inclines me to think that style for +women’s clothes has not changed for the better. In fact, it’s worse +than two years ago in Paris and later in New York. Where will you women +draw the line?” + +“Women are slaves to the prevailing mode,” rejoined Carley. “I don’t +imagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion went on +dictating.” + +“But would they care so much—if they had to work—plenty of work—and +children?” inquired Glenn, wistfully. + +“Glenn! Work and children for modern women? Why, you are dreaming!” +said Carley, with a laugh. + +She saw him gaze thoughtfully into the glowing embers of the fire, and +as she watched him her quick intuition grasped a subtle change in his +mood. It brought a sternness to his face. She could hardly realize she +was looking at the Glenn Kilbourne of old. + +“Come close to the fire,” he said, and pulled up a chair for her. Then +he threw more wood upon the red coals. “You must be careful not to +catch cold out here. The altitude makes a cold dangerous. And that gown +is no protection.” + +“Glenn, one chair used to be enough for us,” she said, archly, standing +beside him. + +But he did not respond to her hint, and, a little affronted, she +accepted the proffered chair. Then he began to ask questions rapidly. +He was eager for news from home—from his people—from old friends. +However he did not inquire of Carley about her friends. She talked +unremittingly for an hour, before she satisfied his hunger. But when +her turn came to ask questions she found him reticent. + +He had fallen upon rather hard days at first out here in the West; then +his health had begun to improve; and as soon as he was able to work his +condition rapidly changed for the better; and now he was getting along +pretty well. Carley felt hurt at his apparent disinclination to confide +in her. The strong cast of his face, as if it had been chiseled in +bronze; the stern set of his lips and the jaw that protruded lean and +square cut; the quiet masked light of his eyes; the coarse roughness of +his brown hands, mute evidence of strenuous labors—these all gave a +different impression from his brief remarks about himself. Lastly there +was a little gray in the light-brown hair over his temples. Glenn was +only twenty-seven, yet he looked ten years older. Studying him so, with +the memory of earlier years in her mind, she was forced to admit that +she liked him infinitely more as he was now. He seemed proven. +Something had made him a man. Had it been his love for her, or the army +service, or the war in France, or the struggle for life and health +afterwards? Or had it been this rugged, uncouth West? Carley felt +insidious jealousy of this last possibility. She feared this West. She +was going to hate it. She had womanly intuition enough to see in Flo +Hutter a girl somehow to be reckoned with. Still, Carley would not +acknowledge to herself that his simple, unsophisticated Western girl +could possibly be a rival. Carley did not need to consider the fact +that she had been spoiled by the attention of men. It was not her +vanity that precluded Flo Hutter as a rival. + +Gradually the conversation drew to a lapse, and it suited Carley to let +it be so. She watched Glenn as he gazed thoughtfully into the amber +depths of the fire. What was going on in his mind? Carley’s old +perplexity suddenly had rebirth. And with it came an unfamiliar fear +which she could not smother. Every moment that she sat there beside +Glenn she was realizing more and more a yearning, passionate love for +him. The unmistakable manifestation of his joy at sight of her, the +strong, almost rude expression of his love, had called to some +responsive, but hitherto unplumbed deeps of her. If it had not been for +these undeniable facts Carley would have been panic-stricken. They +reassured her, yet only made her state of mind more dissatisfied. + +“Carley, do you still go in for dancing?” Glenn asked, presently, with +his thoughtful eyes turning to her. + +“Of course. I like dancing, and it’s about all the exercise I get,” she +replied. + +“Have the dances changed—again?” + +“It’s the music, perhaps, that changes the dancing. Jazz is becoming +popular. And about all the crowd dances now is an infinite variation of +fox-trot.” + +“No waltzing?” + +“I don’t believe I waltzed once this winter.” + +“Jazz? That’s a sort of tinpanning, jiggly stuff, isn’t it?” + +“Glenn, it’s the fever of the public pulse,” replied Carley. “The +graceful waltz, like the stately minuet, flourished back in the days +when people rested rather than raced.” + +“More’s the pity,” said Glenn. Then after a moment, in which his gaze +returned to the fire, he inquired rather too casually, “Does Morrison +still chase after you?” + +“Glenn, I’m neither old—nor married,” she replied, laughing. + +“No, that’s true. But if you were married it wouldn’t make any +difference to Morrison.” + +Carley could not detect bitterness or jealousy in his voice. She would +not have been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark, +however, that he was going to be harder than ever to understand. What +had she said or done to make him retreat within himself, aloof, +impersonal, unfamiliar? He did not impress her as loverlike. What irony +of fate was this that held her there yearning for his kisses and +caresses as never before, while he watched the fire, and talked as to a +mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and far away? Or did she merely +imagine that? Only one thing could she be sure of at that moment, and +it was that pride would never be her ally. + +“Glenn, look here,” she said, sliding her chair close to his and +holding out her left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond +on the third finger. + +He took her hand in his and pressed it, and smiled at her. “Yes, +Carley, it’s a beautiful, soft little hand. But I think I’d like it +better if it were strong and brown, and coarse on the inside—from +useful work.” + +“Like Flo Hutter’s?” queried Carley. + +“Yes.” + +Carley looked proudly into his eyes. “People are born in different +stations. I respect your little Western friend, Glenn, but could I wash +and sweep, milk cows and chop wood, and all that sort of thing?” + +“I suppose you couldn’t,” he admitted, with a blunt little laugh. + +“Would you want me to?” she asked. + +“Well, that’s hard to say,” he replied, knitting his brows. “I hardly +know. I think it depends on you.... But if you did do such work +wouldn’t you be happier?” + +“Happier! Why Glenn, I’d be miserable!... But listen. It wasn’t my +beautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my engagement +ring.” + +“Oh!—Well?” he went on, slowly. + +“I’ve never had it off since you left New York,” she said, softly. “You +gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on my +twenty-second birthday. You said it would take two months’ salary to +pay the bill.” + +“It sure did,” he retorted, with a hint of humor. + +“Glenn, during the war it was not so—so very hard to wear this ring as +an engagement ring should be worn,” said Carley, growing more earnest. +“But after the war—especially after your departure West it was terribly +hard to be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was a +let-down in all women. Oh, no one need tell _me!_ There was. And men +were affected by that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York +was wild during the year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.—Well, +I gadded, danced, dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same as the +other women in our crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested. +Excitement seemed to be happiness—Glenn, I am not making any plea to +excuse all that. But I want you to know—how under trying +circumstances—I was absolutely true to you. Understand me. I mean true +as regards love. Through it all I loved you just the same. And now I’m +with you, it seems, oh, so much more!... Your last letter hurt me. I +don’t know just how. But I came West to see you—to tell you this—and to +ask you.... Do you want this ring back?” + +“Certainly not,” he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading over +his face. + +“Then—you love me?” she whispered. + +“Yes—I love you,” he returned, deliberately. “And in spite of all you +say—very probably more than you love me.... But you, like all women, +make love and its expression the sole object of life. Carley, I have +been concerned with keeping my body from the grave and my soul from +hell.” + +“But—dear—you’re well now?” she returned, with trembling lips. + +“Yes, I’ve almost pulled out.” + +“Then what is wrong?” + +“Wrong?—With me or you,” he queried, with keen, enigmatical glance upon +her. + +“What is wrong between us? There is something.” + +“Carley, a man who has been on the verge—as I have been—seldom or never +comes back to happiness. But perhaps—” + +“You frighten me,” cried Carley, and, rising, she sat upon the arm of +his chair and encircled his neck with her arms. “How can I help if I do +not understand? Am I so miserably little?... Glenn, _must_ I tell you? +No woman can live without love. I need to be loved. That’s all that’s +wrong with _me_.” + +“Carley, you are still an imperious, mushy girl,” replied Glenn, taking +her into his arms. “I need to be loved, too. But that’s not what is +wrong with me. You’ll have to find it out yourself.” + +“You’re a dear old Sphinx,” she retorted. + +“Listen, Carley,” he said, earnestly. “About this love-making stuff. +Please don’t misunderstand me. I love you. I’m starved for your kisses. +But—is it right to ask them?” + +“Right! Aren’t we engaged? And don’t I want to give them?” + +“If I were only _sure_ we’d be married!” he said, in low, tense voice, +as if speaking more to himself. + +“Married!” cried Carley, convulsively clasping him. “Of course we’ll be +married. Glenn, you wouldn’t jilt me?” + +“Carley, what I mean is that you might never really marry me,” he +answered, seriously. + +“Oh, if that’s all you need be sure of, Glenn Kilbourne, you may begin +to make love to me now.” + + +It was late when Carley went up to her room. And she was in such a +softened mood, so happy and excited and yet disturbed in mind, that the +coldness and the darkness did not matter in the least. She undressed in +pitchy blackness, stumbling over chair and bed, feeling for what she +needed. And in her mood this unusual proceeding was fun. When ready for +bed she opened the door to take a peep out. Through the dense blackness +the waterfall showed dimly opaque. Carley felt a soft mist wet her +face. The low roar of the falling water seemed to envelop her. Under +the cliff wall brooded impenetrable gloom. But out above the treetops +shone great stars, wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a +piercing contrast to the deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed +into an absolutely dead silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only +cold was it that made Carley shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden +this canyon! + +Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets. +Relaxation and thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood, +the beat and throb and swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. In +the lonely darkness of her room she might have faced the truth of her +strangely renewed and augmented love for Glenn Kilbourne. But she was +more concerned with her happiness. She had won him back. Her presence, +her love had overcome his restraint. She thrilled in the sweet +consciousness of her woman’s conquest. How splendid he was! To hold +back physical tenderness, the simple expressions of love, because he +had feared they might unduly influence her! He had grown in many ways. +She must be careful to reach up to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter’s +toil-hardened hands! Was that significance somehow connected with the +rift in the lute? For Carley admitted to herself that there was +something amiss, something incomprehensible, something intangible that +obtruded its menace into her dream of future happiness. Still, what had +she to fear, so long as she could be with Glenn? + +And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, the +questions—was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blind +to something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to come +held promise of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise they +seemed full of a portent of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, of +lessons that would make life significant for her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room. The raising of +sleepy eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, in +the act of lighting a fire. + +“Mawnin’, Carley,” she drawled. “It’s shore cold. Reckon it’ll snow +today, worse luck, just because you’re here. Take my hunch and stay in +bed till the fire burns up.” + +“I shall do no such thing,” declared Carley, heroically. + +“We’re afraid you’ll take cold,” said Flo. “This is desert country with +high altitude. Spring is here when the sun shines. But it’s only +shinin’ in streaks these days. That means winter, really. Please be +good.” + +“Well, it doesn’t require much self-denial to stay here awhile longer,” +replied Carley, lazily. + +Flo left with a parting admonition not to let the stove get red-hot. +And Carley lay snuggled in the warm blankets, dreading the ordeal of +getting out into that cold bare room. Her nose was cold. When her nose +grew cold, it being a faithful barometer as to temperature, Carley knew +there was frost in the air. She preferred summer. Steam-heated rooms +with hothouse flowers lending their perfume had certainly not trained +Carley for primitive conditions. She had a spirit, however, that was +waxing a little rebellious to all this intimation as to her +susceptibility to colds and her probable weakness under privation. +Carley got up. Her bare feet landed upon the board floor instead of the +Navajo rug, and she thought she had encountered cold stone. Stove and +hot water notwithstanding, by the time she was half dressed she was +also half frozen. “Some actor fellow once said w-when you w-went West +you were c-camping out,” chattered Carley. “Believe me, he said +something.” + +The fact was Carley had never camped out. Her set played golf, rode +horseback, motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for +uncomfortable trips. The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as +warm and luxurious as Carley’s own home. Carley now missed many things. +And assuredly her flesh was weak. It cost her effort of will and real +pain to finish lacing her boots. As she had made an engagement with +Glenn to visit his cabin, she had donned an outdoor suit. She wondered +if the cold had anything to do with the perceptible diminishing of the +sound of the waterfall. Perhaps some of the water had frozen, like her +fingers. + +Carley went downstairs to the living room, and made no effort to resist +a rush to the open fire. Flo and her mother were amused at Carley’s +impetuosity. “You’ll like that stingin’ of the air after you get used +to it,” said Mrs. Hutter. Carley had her doubts. When she was +thoroughly thawed out she discovered an appetite quite unusual for her, +and she enjoyed her breakfast. Then it was time to sally forth to meet +Glenn. + +“It’s pretty sharp this mawnin’,” said Flo. “You’ll need gloves and +sweater.” + +Having fortified herself with these, Carley asked how to find West Fork +Canyon. + +“It’s down the road a little way,” replied Flo. “A great narrow canyon +opening on the right side. You can’t miss it.” + +Flo accompanied her as far as the porch steps. A queer-looking +individual was slouching along with ax over his shoulder. + +“There’s Charley,” said Flo. “He’ll show you.” Then she whispered: +“He’s sort of dotty sometimes. A horse kicked him once. But mostly he’s +sensible.” + +At Flo’s call the fellow halted with a grin. He was long, lean, loose +jointed, dressed in blue overalls stuck into the tops of muddy boots, +and his face was clear olive without beard or line. His brow bulged a +little, and from under it peered out a pair of wistful brown eyes that +reminded Carley of those of a dog she had once owned. + +“Wal, it ain’t a-goin’ to be a nice day,” remarked Charley, as he tried +to accommodate his strides to Carley’s steps. + +“How can you tell?” asked Carley. “It looks clear and bright.” + +“Naw, this is a dark mawnin’. Thet’s a cloudy sun. We’ll hev snow on +an’ off.” + +“Do you mind bad weather?” + +“Me? All the same to me. Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf +round a big fire at night.” + +“I like a big fire, too.” + +“Ever camped out?” he asked. + +“Not what you’d call the real thing,” replied Carley. + +“Wal, thet’s too bad. Reckon it’ll be tough fer you,” he went on, +kindly. “There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago an’ she had a +hell of a time. They all joked her, ’cept me, an’ played tricks on her. +An’ on her side she was always puttin’ her foot in it. I was shore +sorry fer her.” + +“You were very kind to be an exception,” murmured Carley. + +“You look out fer Tom Hutter, an’ I reckon Flo ain’t so darn above +layin’ traps fer you. ’Specially as she’s sweet on your beau. I seen +them together a lot.” + +“Yes?” interrogated Carley, encouragingly. + +“Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek. I +helped him build his cabin. We’ve hunted some together. Did you ever +hunt?” + +“No.” + +“Wal, you’ve shore missed a lot of fun,” he said. “Turkey huntin’. +Thet’s what fetches the gurls. I reckon because turkeys are so good to +eat. The old gobblers hev begun to gobble now. I’ll take you gobbler +huntin’ if you’d like to go.” + +“I’m sure I would.” + +“There’s good trout fishin’ along heah a little later,” he said, +pointing to the stream. “Crick’s too high now. I like West Fork best. +I’ve ketched some lammin’ big ones up there.” + +Carley was amused and interested. She could not say that Charley had +shown any indication of his mental peculiarity to her. It took +considerable restraint not to lead him to talk more about Flo and +Glenn. Presently they reached the turn in the road, opposite the +cottage Carley had noticed yesterday, and here her loquacious escort +halted. + +“You take the trail heah,” he said, pointing it out, “an’ foller it +into West Fork. So long, an’ don’t forget we’re goin’ huntin’ turkeys.” + +Carley smiled her thanks, and, taking to the trail, she stepped out +briskly, now giving attention to her surroundings. The canyon had +widened, and the creek with its deep thicket of green and white had +sheered to the left. On her right the canyon wall appeared to be +lifting higher—and higher. She could not see it well, owing to +intervening treetops. The trail led her through a grove of maples and +sycamores, out into an open park-like bench that turned to the right +toward the cliff. Suddenly Carley saw a break in the red wall. It was +the intersecting canyon, West Fork. What a narrow red-walled gateway! +Huge pine trees spread wide gnarled branches over her head. The wind +made soft rush in their tops, sending the brown needles lightly on the +air. Carley turned the bulging corner, to be halted by a magnificent +spectacle. It seemed a mountain wall loomed over her. It was the +western side of this canyon, so lofty that Carley had to tip back her +head to see the top. She swept her astonished gaze down the face of +this tremendous red mountain wall and then slowly swept it upward +again. This phenomenon of a cliff seemed beyond the comprehension of +her sight. It looked a mile high. The few trees along its bold rampart +resembled short spear-pointed bushes outlined against the steel gray of +sky. Ledges, caves, seams, cracks, fissures, beetling red brows, yellow +crumbling crags, benches of green growths and niches choked with brush, +and bold points where single lonely pine trees grew perilously, and +blank walls a thousand feet across their shadowed faces—these features +gradually took shape in Carley’s confused sight, until the colossal +mountain front stood up before her in all its strange, wild, +magnificent ruggedness and beauty. + +“Arizona! Perhaps this is what he meant,” murmured Carley. “I never +dreamed of anything like this.... But, oh! it overshadows me—bears me +down! I could never have a moment’s peace under it.” + +It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with +their remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest +there, if that were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There +were places, then, that the desecrating hands of man could not touch. +The dark caves were mystically potent in their vacant staring out at +the world beneath them. The crumbling crags, the toppling ledges, the +leaning rocks all threatened to come thundering down at the breath of +wind. How deep and soft the red color in contrast with the green! How +splendid the sheer bold uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found herself +marveling at the forces that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left +this monument to nature. + +“Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!” called a gay voice. “If the back wall +of my yard so halts you—what will you ever do when you see the Painted +Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand Canyon?” + +“Oh, Glenn, where are you?” cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at +hand. But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived +her. Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek +she had not before noticed. + +“Come on,” he called. “I want to see you cross the stepping stones.” + +Carley ran ahead, down a little slope of clean red rock, to the shore +of the green water. It was clear, swift, deep in some places and +shallow in others, with white wreathes or ripples around the rocks +evidently placed there as a means to cross. Carley drew back aghast. + +“Glenn, I could never make it,” she called. + +“Come on, my Alpine climber,” he taunted. “Will you let Arizona daunt +you?” + +“Do you want me to fall in and catch cold?” she cried, desperately. + +“Carley, big women might even cross the bad places of modern life on +stepping stones of their dead selves!” he went on, with something of +mockery. “Surely a few physical steps are not beyond you.” + +“Say, are you mangling _Tennyson_ or just kidding me?” she demanded +slangily. + +“My love, Flo could cross here with her eyes shut.” + +That thrust spurred Carley to action. His words were jest, yet they +held a hint of earnest. With her heart at her throat Carley stepped on +the first rock, and, poising, she calculated on a running leap from +stone to stone. Once launched, she felt she was falling downhill. She +swayed, she splashed, she slipped; and clearing the longest leap from +the last stone to shore she lost her balance and fell into Glenn’s +arms. His kisses drove away both her panic and her resentment. + +“By Jove! I didn’t think you’d even attempt it!” he declared, +manifestly pleased. “I made sure I’d have to pack you over—in fact, +rather liked the idea.” + +“I wouldn’t advise you to employ any such means again—to dare me,” she +retorted. + +“That’s a nifty outdoor suit you’ve on,” he said, admiringly. “I was +wondering what you’d wear. I like short outing skirts for women, rather +than trousers. The service sort of made the fair sex dippy about +pants.” + +“It made them dippy about more than that,” she replied. “You and I will +never live to see the day that women recover their balance.” + +“I agree with you,” replied Glenn. + +Carley locked her arm in his. “Honey, I want to have a good time today. +Cut out all the _other_ women stuff.... Take me to see your little gray +home in the West. Or is it gray?” + +He laughed. “Why, yes, it’s gray, just about. The logs have bleached +some.” + +Glenn led her away up a trail that climbed between bowlders, and +meandered on over piny mats of needles under great, silent, spreading +pines; and closer to the impondering mountain wall, where at the base +of the red rock the creek murmured strangely with hollow gurgle, where +the sun had no chance to affect the cold damp gloom; and on through +sweet-smelling woods, out into the sunlight again, and across a wider +breadth of stream; and up a slow slope covered with stately pines, to a +little cabin that faced the west. + +“Here we are, sweetheart,” said Glenn. “Now we shall see what you are +made of.” + +Carley was non-committal as to that. Her intense interest precluded any +humor at this moment. Not until she actually saw the log cabin Glenn +had erected with his own hands had she been conscious of any great +interest. But sight of it awoke something unaccustomed in Carley. As +she stepped into the cabin her heart was not acting normally for a +young woman who had no illusions about love in a cottage. + +Glenn’s cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty +long. Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There +was a small window opposite the door. In one corner was a couch of +poles, with green tips of pine boughs peeping from under the blankets. +The floor consisted of flat rocks laid irregularly, with many spaces of +earth showing between. The open fireplace appeared too large for the +room, but the very bigness of it, as well as the blazing sticks and +glowing embers, appealed strongly to Carley. A rough-hewn log formed +the mantel, and on it Carley’s picture held the place of honor. Above +this a rifle lay across deer antlers. Carley paused here in her survey +long enough to kiss Glenn and point to her photograph. + +“You couldn’t have pleased me more.” + +To the left of the fireplace was a rude cupboard of shelves, packed +with boxes, cans, bags, and utensils. Below the cupboard, hung upon +pegs, were blackened pots and pans, a long-handled skillet, and a +bucket. Glenn’s table was a masterpiece. There was no danger of +knocking it over. It consisted of four poles driven into the ground, +upon which had been nailed two wide slabs. This table showed +considerable evidence of having been scrubbed scrupulously clean. There +were two low stools, made out of boughs, and the seats had been covered +with woolly sheep hide. In the right-hand corner stood a neat pile of +firewood, cut with an ax, and beyond this hung saddle and saddle +blanket, bridle and spurs. An old sombrero was hooked upon the pommel +of the saddle. Upon the wall, higher up, hung a lantern, resting in a +coil of rope that Carley took to be a lasso. Under a shelf upon which +lay a suitcase hung some rough wearing apparel. + +Carley noted that her picture and the suit case were absolutely the +only physical evidences of Glenn’s connection with his Eastern life. +That had an unaccountable effect upon Carley. What had she expected? +Then, after another survey of the room, she began to pester Glenn with +questions. He had to show her the spring outside and the little bench +with basin and soap. Sight of his soiled towel made her throw up her +hands. She sat on the stools. She lay on the couch. She rummaged into +the contents of the cupboard. She threw wood on the fire. Then, +finally, having exhausted her search and inquiry, she flopped down on +one of the stools to gaze at Glenn in awe and admiration and +incredulity. + +“Glenn—you’ve actually lived here!” she ejaculated. + +“Since last fall before the snow came,” he said, smiling. + +“Snow! Did it snow?” she inquired. + +“Well, I guess. I was snowed in for a week.” + +“Why did you choose this lonely place—way off from the Lodge?” she +asked, slowly. + +“I wanted to be by myself,” he replied, briefly. + +“You mean this is a sort of camp-out place?” + +“Carley, I call it my home,” he replied, and there was a low, strong +sweetness in his voice she had never heard before. + +That silenced her for a while. She went to the door and gazed up at the +towering wall, more wonderful than ever, and more fearful, too, in her +sight. Presently tears dimmed her eyes. She did not understand her +feeling; she was ashamed of it; she hid it from Glenn. Indeed, there +was something terribly wrong between her and Glenn, and it was not in +him. This cabin he called home gave her a shock which would take time +to analyze. At length she turned to him with gay utterance upon her +lips. She tried to put out of her mind a dawning sense that this +close-to-the-earth habitation, this primitive dwelling, held strange +inscrutable power over a self she had never divined she possessed. The +very stones in the hearth seemed to call out from some remote past, and +the strong sweet smell of burnt wood thrilled to the marrow of her +bones. How little she knew of herself! But she had intelligence enough +to understand that there was a woman in her, the female of the species; +and through that the sensations from logs and stones and earth and fire +had strange power to call up the emotions handed down to her from the +ages. The thrill, the queer heartbeat, the vague, haunting memory of +something, as of a dim childhood adventure, the strange prickling sense +of dread—these abided with her and augmented while she tried to show +Glenn her pride in him and also how funny his cabin seemed to her. + +Once or twice he hesitatingly, and somewhat appealingly, she imagined, +tried to broach the subject of his work there in the West. But Carley +wanted a little while with him free of disagreeable argument. It was a +foregone conclusion that she would not like his work. Her intention at +first had been to begin at once to use all persuasion in her power +toward having him go back East with her, or at the latest some time +this year. But the rude log cabin had checked her impulse. She felt +that haste would be unwise. + +“Glenn Kilbourne, I told you why I came West to see you,” she said, +spiritedly. “Well, since you still swear allegiance to your girl from +the East, you might entertain her a little bit before getting down to +business talk.” + +“All right, Carley,” he replied, laughing. “What do you want to do? The +day is at your disposal. I wish it were June. Then if you didn’t fall +in love with West Fork you’d be no good.” + +“Glenn, I love people, not places,” she returned. + +“So I remember. And that’s one thing I don’t like. But let’s not +quarrel. What’ll we do?” + +“Suppose you tramp with me all around, until I’m good and hungry. Then +we’ll come back here—and you can cook dinner for me.” + +“Fine! Oh, I know you’re just bursting with curiosity to see how I’ll +do it. Well, you may be surprised, miss.” + +“Let’s go,” she urged. + +“Shall I take my gun or fishing rod?” + +“You shall take nothing but _me_,” retorted Carley. “What chance has a +girl with a man, if he can hunt or fish?” + +So they went out hand in hand. Half of the belt of sky above was +obscured by swiftly moving gray clouds. The other half was blue and was +being slowly encroached upon by the dark storm-like pall. How cold the +air! Carley had already learned that when the sun was hidden the +atmosphere was cold. Glenn led her down a trail to the brook, where he +calmly picked her up in his arms, quite easily, it appeared, and +leisurely packed her across, kissing her half a dozen times before he +deposited her on her feet. + +“Glenn, you do this sort of thing so well that it makes me imagine you +have practice now and then,” she said. + +“No. But you are pretty and sweet, and like the girl you were four +years ago. That takes me back to those days.” + +“I thank you. That’s dear of you. I think I am something of a cat.... +I’ll be glad if this walk leads us often to the creek.” + +Spring might have been fresh and keen in the air, but it had not yet +brought much green to the brown earth or to the trees. The cotton-woods +showed a light feathery verdure. The long grass was a bleached white, +and low down close to the sod fresh tiny green blades showed. The great +fern leaves were sear and ragged, and they rustled in the breeze. Small +gray sheath-barked trees with clumpy foliage and snags of dead +branches, Glenn called cedars; and, grotesque as these were, Carley +rather liked them. They were approachable, not majestic and lofty like +the pines, and they smelled sweetly wild, and best of all they afforded +some protection from the bitter wind. Carley rested better than she +walked. The huge sections of red rock that had tumbled from above also +interested Carley, especially when the sun happened to come out for a +few moments and brought out their color. She enjoyed walking on the +fallen pines, with Glenn below, keeping pace with her and holding her +hand. Carley looked in vain for flowers and birds. The only living +things she saw were rainbow trout that Glenn pointed out to her in the +beautiful clear pools. The way the great gray bowlders trooped down to +the brook as if they were cattle going to drink; the dark caverns under +the shelving cliffs, where the water murmured with such hollow mockery; +the low spear-pointed gray plants, resembling century plants, and which +Glenn called mescal cactus, each with its single straight dead stalk +standing on high with fluted head; the narrow gorges, perpendicularly +walled in red, where the constricted brook plunged in amber and white +cascades over fall after fall, tumbling, rushing, singing its water +melody—these all held singular appeal for Carley as aspects of the wild +land, fascinating for the moment, symbolic of the lonely red man and +his forbears, and by their raw contrast making more necessary and +desirable and elevating the comforts and conventions of civilization. +The cave man theory interested Carley only as mythology. + +Lonelier, wilder, grander grew Glenn’s canyon. Carley was finally +forced to shift her attention from the intimate objects of the canyon +floor to the aloof and unattainable heights. Singular to feel the +difference! That which she could see close at hand, touch if she +willed, seemed to, become part of her knowledge, could be observed and +so possessed and passed by. But the gold-red ramparts against the sky, +the crannied cliffs, the crags of the eagles, the lofty, distant blank +walls, where the winds of the gods had written their wars—these haunted +because they could never be possessed. Carley had often gazed at the +Alps as at celebrated pictures. She admired, she appreciated—then she +forgot. But the canyon heights did not affect her that way. They +vaguely dissatisfied, and as she could not be sure of what they +dissatisfied, she had to conclude that it was in herself. To see, to +watch, to dream, to seek, to strive, to endure, to find! Was that what +they meant? They might make her thoughtful of the vast earth, and its +endless age, and its staggering mystery. But what more! + +The storm that had threatened blackened the sky, and gray scudding +clouds buried the canyon rims, and long veils of rain and sleet began +to descend. The wind roared through the pines, drowning the roar of the +brook. Quite suddenly the air grew piercingly cold. Carley had +forgotten her gloves, and her pockets had not been constructed to +protect hands. Glenn drew her into a sheltered nook where a rock jutted +out from overhead and a thicket of young pines helped break the +onslaught of the wind. There Carley sat on a cold rock, huddled up +close to Glenn, and wearing to a state she knew would be misery. Glenn +not only seemed content; he was happy. “This is great,” he said. His +coat was open, his hands uncovered, and he watched the storm and +listened with manifest delight. Carley hated to betray what a weakling +she was, so she resigned herself to her fate, and imagined she felt her +fingers numbing into ice, and her sensitive nose slowly and painfully +freezing. + +The storm passed, however, before Carley sank into abject and open +wretchedness. She managed to keep pace with Glenn until exercise warmed +her blood. At every little ascent in the trail she found herself +laboring to get her breath. There was assuredly evidence of abundance +of air in this canyon, but somehow she could not get enough of it. +Glenn detected this and said it was owing to the altitude. When they +reached the cabin Carley was wet, stiff, cold, exhausted. How welcome +the shelter, the open fireplace! Seeing the cabin in new light, Carley +had the grace to acknowledge to herself that, after all, it was not so +bad. + +“Now for a good fire and then dinner,” announced Glenn, with the air of +one who knew his ground. + +“Can I help?” queried Carley. + +“Not today. I do not want you to spring any domestic science on me +now.” Carley was not averse to withholding her ignorance. She watched +Glenn with surpassing curiosity and interest. First he threw a quantity +of wood upon the smoldering fire. + +“I have ham and mutton of my own raising,” announced Glenn, with +importance. “Which would you prefer?” + +“Of your own raising. What do you mean?” queried Carley. + +“My dear, you’ve been so steeped in the fog of the crowd that you are +blind to the homely and necessary things of living. I mean I have here +meat of both sheep and hog that I raised myself. That is to say, mutton +and ham. Which do you like?” + +“Ham!” cried Carley, incredulously. + +Without more ado Glenn settled to brisk action, every move of which +Carley watched with keen eyes. The usurping of a woman’s province by a +man was always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne—what more +would it be? He evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was +quick, decisive. One after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, +utensils on the table. Then he kicked at the roaring fire, settling +some of the sticks. He strode outside to return with a bucket of water, +a basin, towel, and soap. Then he took down two queer little iron pots +with heavy lids. To each pot was attached a wire handle. He removed the +lids, then set both the pots right on the fire or in it. Pouring water +into the basin, he proceeded to wash his hands. Next he took a large +pail, and from a sack he filled it half full of flour. To this he added +baking powder and salt. It was instructive for Carley to see him run +his skillful fingers all through that flour, as if searching for lumps. +After this he knelt before the fire and, lifting off one of the iron +pots with a forked stick, he proceeded to wipe out the inside of the +pot and grease it with a piece of fat. His next move was to rake out a +pile of the red coals, a feat he performed with the stick, and upon +these he placed the pot. Also he removed the other pot from the fire, +leaving it, however, quite close. + +“Well, all eyes?” he bantered, suddenly staring at her. “Didn’t I say +I’d surprise you?” + +“Don’t mind me. This is about the happiest and most bewildered +moment—of my life,” replied Carley. + +Returning to the table, Glenn dug at something in a large red can. He +paused a moment to eye Carley. + +“Girl, do you know how to make biscuits?” he queried. + +“I might have known in my school days, but I’ve forgotten,” she +replied. + +“Can you make apple pie?” he demanded, imperiously. + +“No,” rejoined Carley. + +“How do you expect to please your husband?” + +“Why—by marrying him, I suppose,” answered Carley, as if weighing a +problem. + +“That has been the universal feminine point of view for a good many +years,” replied Glenn, flourishing a flour-whitened hand. “But it never +served the women of the Revolution or the pioneers. And they were the +builders of the nation. It will never serve the wives of the future, if +we are to survive.” + +“Glenn, you rave!” ejaculated Carley, not knowing whether to laugh or +be grave. “You were talking of humble housewifely things.” + +“Precisely. The humble things that were the foundation of the great +nation of Americans. I meant work and children.” + +Carley could only stare at him. The look he flashed at her, the sudden +intensity and passion of his ringing words, were as if he gave her a +glimpse into the very depths of him. He might have begun in fun, but he +had finished otherwise. She felt that she really did not know this man. +Had he arraigned her in judgment? A flush, seemingly hot and cold, +passed over her. Then it relieved her to see that he had returned to +his task. + +He mixed the shortening with the flour, and, adding water, he began a +thorough kneading. When the consistency of the mixture appeared to +satisfy him he took a handful of it, rolled it into a ball, patted and +flattened it into a biscuit, and dropped it into the oven he had set +aside on the hot coals. Swiftly he shaped eight or ten other biscuits +and dropped them as the first. Then he put the heavy iron lid on the +pot, and with a rude shovel, improvised from a flattened tin can, he +shoveled red coals out of the fire, and covered the lid with them. His +next move was to pare and slice potatoes, placing these aside in a pan. +A small black coffee-pot half full of water, was set on a glowing part +of the fire. Then he brought into use a huge, heavy knife, a +murderous-looking implement it appeared to Carley, with which he cut +slices of ham. These he dropped into the second pot, which he left +uncovered. Next he removed the flour sack and other inpedimenta from +the table, and proceeded to set places for two—blue-enamel plate and +cup, with plain, substantial-looking knives, forks, and spoons. He went +outside, to return presently carrying a small crock of butter. +Evidently he had kept the butter in or near the spring. It looked dewy +and cold and hard. After that he peeped under the lid of the pot which +contained the biscuits. The other pot was sizzling and smoking, giving +forth a delicious savory odor that affected Carley most agreeably. The +coffee-pot had begun to steam. With a long fork Glenn turned the slices +of ham and stood a moment watching them. Next he placed cans of three +sizes upon the table; and these Carley conjectured contained sugar, +salt, and pepper. Carley might not have been present, for all the +attention he paid to her. Again he peeped at the biscuits. At the edge +of the hot embers he placed a tin plate, upon which he carefully +deposited the slices of ham. Carley had not needed sight of them to +know she was hungry; they made her simply ravenous. That done, he +poured the pan of sliced potatoes into the pot. Carley judged the heat +of that pot to be extreme. Next he removed the lid from the other pot, +exposing biscuits slightly browned; and evidently satisfied with these, +he removed them from the coals. He stirred the slices of potatoes round +and round; he emptied two heaping tablespoonfuls of coffee into the +coffee-pot. + +“Carley,” he said, at last turning to her with a warm smile, “out here +in the West the cook usually yells, ‘Come and get it.’ Draw up your +stool.” + +And presently Carley found herself seated across the crude table from +Glenn, with the background of chinked logs in her sight, and the smart +of wood smoke in her eyes. In years past she had sat with him in the +soft, subdued, gold-green shadows of the Astor, or in the sumptuous +atmosphere of the St. Regis. But this event was so different, so +striking, that she felt it would have limitless significance. For one +thing, the look of Glenn! When had he ever seemed like this, +wonderfully happy to have her there, consciously proud of this dinner +he had prepared in half an hour, strangely studying her as one on +trial? This might have had its effect upon Carley’s reaction to the +situation, making it sweet, trenchant with meaning, but she was hungry +enough and the dinner was good enough to make this hour memorable on +that score alone. She ate until she was actually ashamed of herself. +She laughed heartily, she talked, she made love to Glenn. Then suddenly +an idea flashed into her quick mind. + +“Glenn, did this girl Flo teach you to cook?” she queried, sharply. + +“No. I always was handy in camp. Then out here I had the luck to fall +in with an old fellow who was a wonderful cook. He lived with me for a +while. ... Why, what difference would it have made—had Flo taught me?” + +Carley felt the heat of blood in her face. “I don’t know that it would +have made a difference. Only—I’m glad she didn’t teach you. I’d rather +no girl could teach you what I couldn’t.” + +“You think I’m a pretty good cook, then?” he asked. + +“I’ve enjoyed this dinner more than any I’ve ever eaten.” + +“Thanks, Carley. That’ll help a lot,” he said, gayly, but his eyes +shone with earnest, glad light. “I hoped I’d surprise you. I’ve found +out here that I want to do things well. The West stirs something in a +man. It must be an unwritten law. You stand or fall by your own hands. +Back East you know meals are just occasions—to hurry through—to dress +for—to meet somebody—to eat because you have to eat. But out here they +are different. I don’t know how. In the city, producers, merchants, +waiters serve you for money. The meal is a transaction. It has no +significance. It is money that keeps you from starvation. But in the +West money doesn’t mean much. You must work to live.” + +Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and +admiringly. “Old fellow, you’re a wonder. I can’t tell you how proud I +am of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your way +to health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid +achievement. It amazes me. I don’t grasp it. I want to think. +Nevertheless I—” + +“What?” he queried, as she hesitated. + +“Oh, never mind now,” she replied, hastily, averting her eyes. + + +The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge—and in spite of +the discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her +face as she struggled up the trail—it was a day never to be forgotten. +Nothing had been wanting in Glenn’s attention or affection. He had been +comrade, lover, all she craved for. And but for his few singular words +about work and children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day +in his canyon and his cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? +Something vague and perplexing knocked at the gate of her +consciousness. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion +that pleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a +propitious time to climb up on the desert to look after his sheep +interests. Glenn, of course, would accompany him. + +“Carley and I will go too,” asserted Flo. + +“Reckon that’ll be good,” said Hutter, with approving nod. + +His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see the +beautiful desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious. + +“Carley, it’ll be rather hard,” he said. “You’re soft, and riding and +lying out will stove you up. You ought to break in gradually.” + +“I rode ten miles today,” rejoined Carley. “And didn’t mind it—much.” +This was a little deviation from stern veracity. + +“Shore Carley’s well and strong,” protested Flo. “She’ll get sore, but +that won’t kill her.” + +Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. “I might drive Carley +round about in the car,” he said. + +“But you can’t drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. We’d +have to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It’s horseback if +you go at all.” + +“Shore we’ll go horseback,” spoke up Flo. “Carley has got it all over +that Spencer girl who was here last summer.” + +“I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what the +ride to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer,” rejoined Glenn. + +“What?” inquired Carley. + +“Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed two +days. She didn’t show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she never +got on another horse.” + +“Oh, is that all, Glenn?” returned Carley, in feigned surprise. “Why, I +imagined from your tone that Miss Spencer’s ride must have occasioned +her discomfort.... See here, Glenn. I may be a tenderfoot, but I’m no +mollycoddle.” + +“My dear, I surrender,” replied Glenn, with a laugh. “Really, I’m +delighted. But if anything happens—don’t you blame me. I’m quite sure +that a long horseback ride, in spring, on the desert, will show you a +good many things about yourself.” + +That was how Carley came to find herself, the afternoon of the next +day, astride a self-willed and unmanageable little mustang, riding in +the rear of her friends, on the way through a cedar forest toward a +place called Deep Lake. + +Carley had not been able yet, during the several hours of their +journey, to take any pleasure in the scenery or in her mount. For in +the first place there was nothing to see but scrubby little gnarled +cedars and drab-looking rocks; and in the second this Indian pony she +rode had discovered she was not an adept horsewoman and had proceeded +to take advantage of the fact. It did not help Carley’s predicament to +remember that Glenn had decidedly advised her against riding this +particular mustang. To be sure, Flo had approved of Carley’s choice, +and Mr. Hutter, with a hearty laugh, had fallen in line: “Shore. Let +her ride one of the broncs, if she wants.” So this animal she bestrode +must have been a bronc, for it did not take him long to elicit from +Carley a muttered, “I don’t know what bronc means, but it sounds like +this pony acts.” + +Carley had inquired the animal’s name from the young herder who had +saddled him for her. + +“Wal, I reckon he ain’t got much of a name,” replied the lad, with a +grin, as he scratched his head. “For us boys always called him +Spillbeans.” + +“Humph! What a beautiful cognomen!” ejaculated Carley, “But according +to Shakespeare any name will serve. I’ll ride him or—or—” + +So far there had not really been any necessity for the completion of +that sentence. But five miles of riding up into the cedar forest had +convinced Carley that she might not have much farther to go. Spillbeans +had ambled along well enough until he reached level ground where a long +bleached grass waved in the wind. Here he manifested hunger, then a +contrary nature, next insubordination, and finally direct hostility. +Carley had urged, pulled, and commanded in vain. Then when she gave +Spillbeans a kick in the flank he jumped stiff legged, propelling her +up out of the saddle, and while she was descending he made the queer +jump again, coming up to meet her. The jolt she got seemed to dislocate +every bone in her body. Likewise it hurt. Moreover, along with her idea +of what a spectacle she must have presented, it quickly decided Carley +that Spillbeans was a horse that was not to be opposed. Whenever he +wanted a mouthful of grass he stopped to get it. Therefore Carley was +always in the rear, a fact which in itself did not displease her. +Despite his contrariness, however, Spillbeans had apparently no +intention of allowing the other horses to get completely out of sight. + +Several times Flo waited for Carley to catch up. “He’s loafing on you, +Carley. You ought to have on a spur. Break off a switch and beat him +some.” Then she whipped the mustang across the flank with her bridle +rein, which punishment caused Spillbeans meekly to trot on with +alacrity. Carley had a positive belief that he would not do it for her. +And after Flo’s repeated efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn, +had kept Spillbeans in a trot for a couple of miles Carley began to +discover that the trotting of a horse was the most uncomfortable motion +possible to imagine. It grew worse. It became painful. It gradually got +unendurable. But pride made Carley endure it until suddenly she thought +she had been stabbed in the side. This strange piercing pain must be +what Glenn had called a “stitch” in the side, something common to +novices on horseback. Carley could have screamed. She pulled the +mustang to a walk and sagged in her saddle until the pain subsided. +What a blessed relief! Carley had keen sense of the difference between +riding in Central Park and in Arizona. She regretted her choice of +horses. Spillbeans was attractive to look at, but the pleasure of +riding him was a delusion. Flo had said his gait resembled the motion +of a rocking chair. This Western girl, according to Charley, the sheep +herder, was not above playing Arizona jokes. Be that as it might, +Spillbeans now manifested a desire to remain with the other horses, and +he broke out of a walk into a trot. Carley could not keep him from +trotting. Hence her state soon wore into acute distress. + +Her left ankle seemed broken. The stirrup was heavy, and as soon as she +was tired she could no longer keep its weight from drawing her foot in. +The inside of her right knee was as sore as a boil. Besides, she had +other pains, just as severe, and she stood momentarily in mortal dread +of that terrible stitch in her side. If it returned she knew she would +fall off. But, fortunately, just when she was growing weak and dizzy, +the horses ahead slowed to a walk on a descent. The road wound down +into a wide deep canyon. Carley had a respite from her severest pains. +Never before had she known what it meant to be so grateful for relief +from anything. + +The afternoon grew far advanced and the sunset was hazily shrouded in +gray. Hutter did not like the looks of those clouds. “Reckon we’re in +for weather,” he said. Carley did not care what happened. Weather or +anything else that might make it possible to get off her horse! Glenn +rode beside her, inquiring solicitously as to her pleasure. “Ride of my +life!” she lied heroically. And it helped some to see that she both +fooled and pleased him. + +Beyond the canyon the cedared desert heaved higher and changed its +aspect. The trees grew larger, bushier, greener, and closer together, +with patches of bleached grass between, and russet-lichened rocks +everywhere. Small cactus plants bristled sparsely in open places; and +here and there bright red flowers—Indian paintbrush, Flo called +them—added a touch of color to the gray. Glenn pointed to where dark +banks of cloud had massed around the mountain peaks. The scene to the +west was somber and compelling. + +At last the men and the pack-horses ahead came to a halt in a level +green forestland with no high trees. Far ahead a chain of soft gray +round hills led up to the dark heaved mass of mountains. Carley saw the +gleam of water through the trees. Probably her mustang saw or scented +it, because he started to trot. Carley had reached a limit of strength, +endurance, and patience. She hauled him up short. When Spillbeans +evinced a stubborn intention to go on Carley gave him a kick. Then it +happened. + +She felt the reins jerked out of her hands and the saddle propel her +upward. When she descended it was to meet that before-experienced jolt. + +“Look!” cried Flo. “That bronc is going to pitch.” + +“Hold on, Carley!” yelled Glenn. + +Desperately Carley essayed to do just that. But Spillbeans jolted her +out of the saddle. She came down on his rump and began to slide back +and down. Frightened and furious, Carley tried to hang to the saddle +with her hands and to squeeze the mustang with her knees. But another +jolt broke her hold, and then, helpless and bewildered, with her heart +in her throat and a terrible sensation of weakness, she slid back at +each upheave of the muscular rump until she slid off and to the ground +in a heap. Whereupon Spillbeans trotted off toward the water. + +Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her. Manifestly they were +concerned about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter. Carley +knew she was not hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, +on the moment, she could almost have laughed herself. + +“That beast is well named,” she said. “He spilled me, all right. And I +presume I resembled a sack of beans.” + +“Carley—you’re—not hurt?” asked Glenn, choking, as he helped her up. + +“Not physically. But my feelings are.” + +Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by a loud +guffaw from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrain +whatever she felt. To Carley she looked queer. + +“Pitch! You called it that,” said Carley. + +“Oh, he didn’t really pitch. He just humped up a few times,” replied +Flo, and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burst +into a merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning, +and some of the other men turned away with shaking shoulders. + +“Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!” ejaculated Carley. “It must +have been funny. I hope I can be a good sport.... But I bet you I ride +him tomorrow.” + +“Shore you will,” replied Flo. + +Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carley +felt a warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling of +humiliation. They expected such things from her, and she should expect +them, too, and take them, if not fearlessly or painlessly, at least +without resentment. + +Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while +doing so she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At +second glance the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to +define. She could see far, and the view north toward those strange +gray-colored symmetrical hills was one that fascinated while it +repelled her. Near at hand the ground sloped down to a large rock-bound +lake, perhaps a mile in circumference. In the distance, along the shore +she saw a white conical tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects +she took for sheep. + +The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet +together, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appeared +to be briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the foot +of a thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed +for her and Flo. All that Carley could see that could be used for such +purpose was a canvas-covered roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope from +round this, unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar. Then he spread +down the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thickness of +blankets. From under the top of these he pulled out two flat little +pillows. These he placed in position, and turned back some of the +blankets. + +“Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over +them,” directed Glenn. “If it rains pull the tarp up over your head—and +let it rain.” + +This direction sounded in Glenn’s cheery voice a good deal more +pleasurable than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar tree +could not keep off rain or snow. + +“Glenn, how about—about animals—and crawling things, you know?” queried +Carley. + +“Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes a +scorpion. But these don’t crawl around much at night. The only thing to +worry about are the hydrophobia skunks.” + +“What on earth are they?” asked Carley, quite aghast. + +“Skunks are polecats, you know,” replied Glenn, cheerfully. “Sometimes +one gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then he’s a dangerous +customer. He has no fear and he may run across you and bite you in the +face. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have been bitten +since I’ve been here. One of them died, and the other had to go to the +Pasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia.” + +“Good heavens!” cried Carley, horrified. + +“You needn’t be afraid,” said Glenn. “I’ll tie one of the dogs near +your bed.” + +Carley wondered whether Glenn’s casual, easy tone had been adopted for +her benefit or was merely an assimilation from this Western life. Not +improbably Glenn himself might be capable of playing a trick on her. +Carley endeavored to fortify herself against disaster, so that when it +befell she might not be wholly ludicrous. + +With the coming of twilight a cold, keen wind moaned through the +cedars. Carley would have hovered close to the fire even if she had not +been too tired to exert herself. Despite her aches, she did justice to +the supper. It amazed her that appetite consumed her to the extent of +overcoming a distaste for this strong, coarse cooking. Before the meal +ended darkness had fallen, a windy raw darkness that enveloped heavily +like a blanket. Presently Carley edged closer to the fire, and there +she stayed, alternately turning back and front to the welcome heat. She +seemingly roasted hands, face, and knees while her back froze. The wind +blew the smoke in all directions. When she groped around with blurred, +smarting eyes to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The other +members of the party sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without much +notice of the smoke that so exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insisted +that she take a seat he had fixed for her, but she preferred to stand +and move around a little. + +By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and all +gathered near the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutter +engaged in interested conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheep +herders. If the wind and cold had not made Carley so uncomfortable she +might have found the scene picturesque. How black the night! She could +scarcely distinguish the sky at all. The cedar branches swished in the +wind, and from the gloom came a low sound of waves lapping a rocky +shore. Presently Glenn held up a hand. + +“Listen, Carley!” he said. + +Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehow +infinitely lonely. They made her shudder. + +“Coyotes,” said Glenn. “You’ll come to love that chorus. Hear the dogs +bark back.” + +Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that she +would ever become enamoured of such wild cries. + +“Do coyotes come near camp?” she queried. + +“Shore. Sometimes they pull your pillow out from under your head,” +replied Flo, laconically. + +Carley did not ask any more questions. Natural history was not her +favorite study and she was sure she could dispense with any first-hand +knowledge of desert beasts. She thought, however, she heard one of the +men say, “Big varmint prowlin’ round the sheep.” To which Hutter +replied, “Reckon it was a bear.” And Glenn said, “I saw his fresh track +by the lake. Some bear!” + +The heat from the fire made Carley so drowsy that she could scarcely +hold up her head. She longed for bed even if it was out there in the +open. Presently Flo called her: “Come. Let’s walk a little before +turning in.” + +So Carley permitted herself to be led to and fro down an open aisle +between some cedars. The far end of that aisle, dark, gloomy, with the +bushy secretive cedars all around, caused Carley apprehension she was +ashamed to admit. Flo talked eloquently about the joys of camp life, +and how the harder any outdoor task was and the more endurance and pain +it required, the more pride and pleasure one had in remembering it. +Carley was weighing the import of these words when suddenly Flo +clutched her arm. “What’s that?” she whispered, tensely. + +Carley stood stockstill. They had reached the furthermost end of that +aisle, but had turned to go back. The flare of the camp fire threw a +wan light into the shadows before them. There came a rustling in the +brush, a snapping of twigs. Cold tremors chased up and down Carley’s +back. + +“Shore it’s a varmint, all right. Let’s hurry,” whispered Flo. + +Carley needed no urging. It appeared that Flo was not going to run. She +walked fast, peering back over her shoulder, and, hanging to Carley’s +arm, she rounded a large cedar that had obstructed some of the +firelight. The gloom was not so thick here. And on the instant Carley +espied a low, moving object, somehow furry, and gray in color. She +gasped. She could not speak. Her heart gave a mighty throb and seemed +to stop. + +“What—do you see?” cried Flo, sharply, peering ahead. “Oh!... Come, +Carley. _Run!_” + +Flo’s cry showed she must nearly be strangled with terror. But Carley +was frozen in her tracks. Her eyes were riveted upon the gray furry +object. It stopped. Then it came faster. It magnified. It was a huge +beast. Carley had no control over mind, heart, voice, or muscle. Her +legs gave way. She was sinking. A terrible panic, icy, sickening, +rending, possessed her whole body. + +The huge gray thing came at her. Into the rushing of her ears broke +thudding sounds. The thing leaped up. A horrible petrifaction suddenly +made stone of Carley. Then she saw a gray mantlelike object cast aside +to disclose the dark form of a man. Glenn! + +“Carley, dog-gone it! You don’t scare worth a cent,” he laughingly +complained. + +She collapsed into his arms. The liberating shock was as great as had +been her terror. She began to tremble violently. Her hands got back a +sense of strength to clutch. Heart and blood seemed released from that +ice-banded vise. + +“Say, I believe you were scared,” went on Glenn, bending over her. + +“Scar-ed!” she gasped. “Oh—there’s no word—to tell—what I was!” + +Flo came running back, giggling with joy. “Glenn, she shore took you +for a bear. Why, I felt her go stiff as a post!... Ha! Ha! Ha! Carley, +now how do you like the wild and woolly?” + +“Oh! You put up a trick on me!” ejaculated Carley. “Glenn, how could +you? ... Such a terrible trick! I wouldn’t have minded something +reasonable. But that! Oh, I’ll never forgive you!” + +Glenn showed remorse, and kissed her before Flo in a way that made some +little amends. “Maybe I overdid it,” he said. “But I thought you’d have +a momentary start, you know, enough to make you yell, and then you’d +see through it. I only had a sheepskin over my shoulders as I crawled +on hands and knees.” + +“Glenn, for me you were a prehistoric monster—a dinosaur, or +something,” replied Carley. + +It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybody +had been in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it. + +“Reckon that makes you one of us,” said Hutter, genially. “We’ve all +had our scares.” + +Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickery +alienated her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to show her +cowardice. But then she realized that no one had really seen any +evidence of her state. It was fun to them. + +Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call +for bed. Following Flo’s instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled +off her boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under +the blankets. How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most +delicious sense of relief and rest she had ever experienced. She +straightened out on her back with a feeling that she had never before +appreciated the luxury of lying down. + +Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: “Now don’t +cover your head. If it rains I’ll wake and pull up the tarp. Good +night, Carley.” And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep. + +For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches; +the aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blackness +of night, the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotected +helplessness she felt in this novel bed, were too entirely new and +disturbing to be overcome at once. So she lay wide eyed, staring at the +dense gray shadow, at the flickering lights upon the cedar. At length +her mind formed a conclusion that this sort of thing might be worth the +hardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession to Glenn’s West! +In the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess that if her +vanity had not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have enjoyed +herself more. It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills and +pleasures and exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and an +uneasy half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or a +profitable time when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would not +be averse to getting Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere wholly +strange and difficult, and see how she met situation after situation +unfamiliar to her. And so Carley’s mind drifted on until at last she +succumbed to drowsiness. + + +A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Something +sharp, cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them. +Glenn stood over her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face. + +“Carley, the day is far spent,” he said, gayly. “We want to roll up +your bedding. Will you get out of it?” + +“Hello, Glenn! What time is it?” she replied. + +“It’s nearly six.” + +“What!... Do you expect me to get up at that ungodly hour?” + +“We’re all up. Flo’s eating breakfast. It’s going to be a bad day, I’m +afraid. And we want to get packed and moving before it starts to rain.” + +“Why do girls leave home?” she asked, tragically. + +“To make poor devils happy, of course,” he replied, smiling down upon +her. + +That smile made up to Carley for all the clamoring sensations of stiff, +sore muscles. It made her ashamed that she could not fling herself into +this adventure with all her heart. Carley essayed to sit up. “Oh, I’m +afraid my anatomy has become disconnected!... Glenn, do I look a +sight?” She never would have asked him that if she had not known she +could bear inspection at such an inopportune moment. + +“You look great,” he asserted, heartily. “You’ve got color. And as for +your hair—I like to see it mussed that way. You were always one to have +it dressed—just so.... Come, Carley, rustle now.” + +Thus adjured, Carley did her best under adverse circumstances. And she +was gritting her teeth and complimenting herself when she arrived at +the task of pulling on her boots. They were damp and her feet appeared +to have swollen. Moreover, her ankles were sore. But she accomplished +getting into them at the expense of much pain and sundry utterances +more forcible than elegant. Glenn brought her warm water, a mitigating +circumstance. The morning was cold and thought of that biting desert +water had been trying. + +“Shore you’re doing fine,” was Flo’s greeting. “Come and get it before +we throw it out.” + +Carley made haste to comply with the Western mandate, and was once +again confronted with the singular fact that appetite did not wait upon +the troubles of a tenderfoot. Glenn remarked that at least she would +not starve to death on the trip. + +“Come, climb the ridge with me,” he invited. “I want you to take a look +to the north and east.” + +He led her off through the cedars, up a slow red-earth slope, away from +the lake. A green moundlike eminence topped with flat red rock appeared +near at hand and not at all a hard climb. Nevertheless, her eyes +deceived her, as she found to the cost of her breath. It was both far +away and high. + +“I like this location,” said Glenn. “If I had the money I’d buy this +section of land—six hundred and forty acres—and make a ranch of it. +Just under this bluff is a fine open flat bench for a cabin. You could +see away across the desert clear to Sunset Peak. There’s a good spring +of granite water. I’d run water from the lake down into the lower +flats, and I’d sure raise some stock.” + +“What do you call this place?” asked Carley, curiously. + +“Deep Lake. It’s only a watering place for sheep and cattle. But +there’s fine grazing, and it’s a wonder to me no one has ever settled +here.” + +Looking down, Carley appreciated his wish to own the place; and +immediately there followed in her a desire to get possession of this +tract of land before anyone else discovered its advantages, and to hold +it for Glenn. But this would surely conflict with her intention of +persuading Glenn to go back East. As quickly as her impulse had been +born it died. + +Suddenly the scene gripped Carley. She looked from near to far, trying +to grasp the illusive something. Wild lonely Arizona land! She saw +ragged dumpy cedars of gray and green, lines of red earth, and a round +space of water, gleaming pale under the lowering clouds; and in the +distance isolated hills, strangely curved, wandering away to a black +uplift of earth obscured in the sky. + +These appeared to be mere steps leading her sight farther and higher to +the cloud-navigated sky, where rosy and golden effulgence betokened the +sun and the east. Carley held her breath. A transformation was going on +before her eyes. + +“Carley, it’s a stormy sunrise,” said Glenn. + +His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this +sudden-bursting glory only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She +could see the clouds moving while they were being colored. The +universal gray surrendered under some magic paint brush. The rifts +widened, and the gloom of the pale-gray world seemed to vanish. Beyond +the billowy, rolling, creamy edges of clouds, white and pink, shone the +soft exquisite fresh blue sky. And a blaze of fire, a burst of molten +gold, sheered up from behind the rim of cloud and suddenly poured a sea +of sunlight from east to west. It transfigured the round foothills. +They seemed bathed in ethereal light, and the silver mists that +overhung them faded while Carley gazed, and a rosy flush crowned the +symmetrical domes. Southward along the horizon line, down-dropping +veils of rain, just touched with the sunrise tint, streamed in drifting +slow movement from cloud to earth. To the north the range of foothills +lifted toward the majestic dome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic upheaval of +red and purple cinders, bare as rock, round as the lower hills, and +wonderful in its color. Full in the blaze of the rising sun it flaunted +an unchangeable front. Carley understood now what had been told her +about this peak. Volcanic fires had thrown up a colossal mound of +cinders burned forever to the hues of the setting sun. In every light +and shade of day it held true to its name. Farther north rose the bold +bulk of the San Francisco Peaks, that, half lost in the clouds, still +dominated the desert scene. Then as Carley gazed the rifts began to +close. Another transformation began, the reverse of what she watched. +The golden radiance of sunrise vanished, and under a gray, lowering, +coalescing pall of cloud the round hills returned to their bleak +somberness, and the green desert took again its cold sheen. + +“Wasn’t it fine, Carley?” asked Glenn. “But nothing to what you will +experience. I hope you stay till the weather gets warm. I want you to +see a summer dawn on the Painted Desert, and a noon with the great +white clouds rolling up from the horizon, and a sunset of massed purple +and gold. If _they_ do not get you then I’ll give up.” + +Carley murmured something of her appreciation of what she had just +seen. Part of his remark hung on her ear, thought-provoking and +disturbing. He hoped she would stay until summer! That was kind of him. +But her visit must be short and she now intended it to end with his +return East with her. If she did not persuade him to go he might not +want to go for a while, as he had written—“just yet.” Carley grew +troubled in mind. Such mental disturbance, however, lasted no longer +than her return with Glenn to camp, where the mustang Spillbeans stood +ready for her to mount. He appeared to put one ear up, the other down, +and to look at her with mild surprise, as if to say: +“What—hello—tenderfoot! Are you going to ride me again?” + +Carley recalled that she had avowed she would ride him. There was no +alternative, and her misgivings only made matters worse. Nevertheless, +once in the saddle, she imagined she had the hallucination that to ride +off so, with the long open miles ahead, was really thrilling. This +remarkable state of mind lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, and +then another day of misery beckoned to Carley with gray stretches of +distance. + +She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up the +hours. She saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; she +saw the ground clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hoping +for sandy places or rocky places where her mustang could not trot. + +At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which +turned out to be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so +busy that he had no time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at +home on a horse than on the ground, rode around everywhere with the +men. Most assuredly Carley could not pass by the chance to get off +Spillbeans and to walk a little. She found, however, that what she +wanted most was to rest. The cabin was deserted, a dark, damp place +with a rank odor. She did not stay long inside. + +Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be a +disagreeable prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered by a +cup of hot soup and some bread and butter which the herder Charley +brought her. By and by Glenn and Hutter returned with Flo, and all +partook of some lunch. + +All too soon Carley found herself astride the mustang again. Glenn +helped her don the slicker, an abominable sticky rubber coat that +bundled her up and tangled her feet round the stirrups. She was glad to +find, though, that it served well indeed to protect her from raw wind +and rain. + +“Where do we go from here?” Carley inquired, ironically. + +Glenn laughed in a way which proved to Carley that he knew perfectly +well how she felt. Again his smile caused her self-reproach. Plain +indeed was it that he had really expected more of her in the way of +complaint and less of fortitude. Carley bit her lips. + +Thus began the afternoon ride. As it advanced the sky grew more +threatening, the wind rawer, the cold keener, and the rain cut like +little bits of sharp ice. It blew in Carley’s face. Enough snow fell to +whiten the open patches of ground. In an hour Carley realized that she +had the hardest task of her life to ride to the end of the day’s +journey. No one could have guessed her plight. Glenn complimented her +upon her adaptation to such unpleasant conditions. Flo evidently was on +the lookout for the tenderfoot’s troubles. But as Spillbeans, had taken +to lagging at a walk, Carley was enabled to conceal all outward sign of +her woes. It rained, hailed, sleeted, snowed, and grew colder all the +time. Carley’s feet became lumps of ice. Every step the mustang took +sent acute pains ramifying from bruised and raw places all over her +body. + +Once, finding herself behind the others and out of sight in the cedars, +she got off to walk awhile, leading the mustang. This would not do, +however, because she fell too far in the rear. Mounting again, she rode +on, beginning to feel that nothing mattered, that this trip would be +the end of Carley Burch. How she hated that dreary, cold, flat land the +road bisected without end. It felt as if she rode hours to cover a +mile. In open stretches she saw the whole party straggling along, +separated from one another, and each for himself. They certainly could +not be enjoying themselves. Carley shut her eyes, clutched the pommel +of the saddle, trying to support her weight. How could she endure +another mile? Alas! there might be many miles. Suddenly a terrible +shock seemed to rack her. But it was only that Spillbeans had once +again taken to a trot. Frantically she pulled on the bridle. He was not +to be thwarted. Opening her eyes, she saw a cabin far ahead which +probably was the destination for the night. Carley knew she would never +reach it, yet she clung on desperately. What she dreaded was the return +of that stablike pain in her side. It came, and life seemed something +abject and monstrous. She rode stiff legged, with her hands propping +her stiffly above the pommel, but the stabbing pain went right on, and +in deeper. When the mustang halted his trot beside the other horses +Carley was in the last extremity. Yet as Glenn came to her, offering a +hand, she still hid her agony. Then Flo called out gayly: “Carley, +you’ve done twenty-five miles on as rotten a day as I remember. Shore +we all hand it to you. And I’m confessing I didn’t think you’d ever +stay the ride out. Spillbeans is the meanest nag we’ve got and he has +the hardest gait.” + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Later Carley leaned back in a comfortable seat, before a blazing fire +that happily sent its acrid smoke up the chimney, pondering ideas in +her mind. + +There could be a relation to familiar things that was astounding in its +revelation. To get off a horse that had tortured her, to discover an +almost insatiable appetite, to rest weary, aching body before the +genial warmth of a beautiful fire—these were experiences which Carley +found to have been hitherto unknown delights. It struck her suddenly +and strangely that to know the real truth about anything in life might +require infinite experience and understanding. How could one feel +immense gratitude and relief, or the delight of satisfying acute +hunger, or the sweet comfort of rest, unless there had been +circumstances of extreme contrast? She had been compelled to suffer +cruelly on horseback in order to make her appreciate how good it was to +get down on the ground. Otherwise she never would have known. She +wondered, then, how true that principle might be in all experience. It +gave strong food for thought. There were things in the world never +before dreamed of in her philosophy. + +Carley was wondering if she were narrow and dense to circumstances of +life differing from her own when a remark of Flo’s gave pause to her +reflections. + +“Shore the worst is yet to come.” Flo had drawled. + +Carley wondered if this distressing statement had to do in some way +with the rest of the trip. She stifled her curiosity. Painful knowledge +of that sort would come quickly enough. + +“Flo, are you girls going to sleep here in the cabin?” inquired Glenn. + +“Shore. It’s cold and wet outside,” replied Flo. + +“Well, Felix, the Mexican herder, told me some Navajos had been bunking +here.” + +“Navajos? You mean Indians?” interposed Carley, with interest. + +“Shore do,” said Flo. “I knew that. But don’t mind Glenn. He’s full of +tricks, Carley. He’d give us a hunch to lie out in the wet.” + +Hutter burst into his hearty laugh. “Wal, I’d rather get some things +any day than a bad cold.” + +“Shore I’ve had both,” replied Flo, in her easy drawl, “and I’d prefer +the cold. But for Carley’s sake—” + +“Pray don’t consider me,” said Carley. The rather crude drift of the +conversation affronted her. + +“Well, my dear,” put in Glenn, “it’s a bad night outside. We’ll all +make our beds here.” + +“Glenn, you shore are a nervy fellow,” drawled Flo. + +Long after everybody was in bed Carley lay awake in the blackness of +the cabin, sensitively fidgeting and quivering over imaginative contact +with creeping things. The fire had died out. A cold air passed through +the room. On the roof pattered gusts of rain. Carley heard a rustling +of mice. It did not seem possible that she could keep awake, yet she +strove to do so. But her pangs of body, her extreme fatigue soon +yielded to the quiet and rest of her bed, engendering a drowsiness that +proved irresistible. + +Morning brought fair weather and sunshine, which helped to sustain +Carley in her effort to brave out her pains and woes. Another +disagreeable day would have forced her to humiliating defeat. +Fortunately for her, the business of the men was concerned with the +immediate neighborhood, in which they expected to stay all morning. + +“Flo, after a while persuade Carley to ride with you to the top of this +first foothill,” said Glenn. “It’s not far, and it’s worth a good deal +to see the Painted Desert from there. The day is clear and the air free +from dust.” + +“Shore. Leave it to me. I want to get out of camp, anyhow. That +conceited _hombre_, Lee Stanton, will be riding in here,” answered Flo, +laconically. + +The slight knowing smile on Glenn’s face and the grinning disbelief on +Mr. Hutter’s were facts not lost upon Carley. And when Charley, the +herder, deliberately winked at Carley, she conceived the idea that Flo, +like many women, only ran off to be pursued. In some manner Carley did +not seek to analyze, the purported advent of this Lee Stanton pleased +her. But she did admit to her consciousness that women, herself +included, were both as deep and mysterious as the sea, yet as +transparent as an inch of crystal water. + +It happened that the expected newcomer rode into camp before anyone +left. Before he dismounted he made a good impression on Carley, and as +he stepped down in lazy, graceful action, a tall lithe figure, she +thought him singularly handsome. He wore black sombrero, flannel shirt, +blue jeans stuffed into high boots, and long, big-roweled spurs. + +“How are you-all?” was his greeting. + +From the talk that ensued between him and the men, Carley concluded +that he must be overseer of the sheep hands. Carley knew that Hutter +and Glenn were not interested in cattle raising. And in fact they were, +especially Hutter, somewhat inimical to the dominance of the range land +by cattle barons of Flagstaff. + +“When’s Ryan goin’ to dip?” asked Hutter. + +“Today or tomorrow,” replied Stanton. + +“Reckon we ought to ride over,” went on Hutter. “Say, Glenn, do you +reckon Miss Carley could stand a sheep-dip?” + +This was spoken in a low tone, scarcely intended for Carley, but she +had keen ears and heard distinctly. Not improbably this sheep-dip was +what Flo meant as the worst to come. Carley adopted a listless posture +to hide her keen desire to hear what Glenn would reply to Hutter. + +“I should say not!” whispered Glenn, fiercely. + +“Cut out that talk. She’ll hear you and want to go.” + +Whereupon Carley felt mount in her breast an intense and rebellious +determination to see a sheep-dip. She would astonish Glenn. What did he +want, anyway? Had she not withstood the torturing trot of the +hardest-gaited horse on the range? Carley realized she was going to +place considerable store upon that feat. It grew on her. + +When the consultation of the men ended, Lee Stanton turned to Flo. And +Carley did not need to see the young man look twice to divine what +ailed him. He was caught in the toils of love. But seeing through Flo +Hutter was entirely another matter. + +“Howdy, Lee!” she said, coolly, with her clear eyes on him. A tiny +frown knitted her brow. She did not, at the moment, entirely approve of +him. + +“Shore am glad to see you, Flo,” he said, with rather a heavy expulsion +of breath. He wore a cheerful grin that in no wise deceived Flo, or +Carley either. The young man had a furtive expression of eye. + +“Ahuh!” returned Flo. + +“I was shore sorry about—about that—” he floundered, in low voice. + +“About what?” + +“Aw, you know, Flo.” + +Carley strolled out of hearing, sure of two things—that she felt rather +sorry for Stanton, and that his course of love did not augur well for +smooth running. What queer creatures were women! Carley had seen +several million coquettes, she believed; and assuredly Flo Hutter +belonged to the species. + +Upon Carley’s return to the cabin she found Stanton and Flo waiting for +her to accompany them on a ride up the foothill. She was so stiff and +sore that she could hardly mount into the saddle; and the first mile of +riding was something like a nightmare. She lagged behind Flo and +Stanton, who apparently forgot her in their quarrel. + +The riders soon struck the base of a long incline of rocky ground that +led up to the slope of the foothill. Here rocks and gravel gave place +to black cinders out of which grew a scant bleached grass. This desert +verdure was what lent the soft gray shade to the foothill when seen +from a distance. The slope was gentle, so that the ascent did not +entail any hardship. Carley was amazed at the length of the slope, and +also to see how high over the desert she was getting. She felt lifted +out of a monotonous level. A green-gray league-long cedar forest +extended down toward Oak Creek. Behind her the magnificent bulk of the +mountains reached up into the stormy clouds, showing white slopes of +snow under the gray pall. + +The hoofs of the horses sank in the cinders. A fine choking dust +assailed Carley’s nostrils. Presently, when there appeared at least a +third of the ascent still to be accomplished and Flo dismounted to +walk, leading their horses. Carley had no choice but to do likewise. At +first walking was a relief. Soon, however, the soft yielding cinders +began to drag at her feet. At every step she slipped back a few inches, +a very annoying feature of climbing. When her legs seemed to grow dead +Carley paused for a little rest. The last of the ascent, over a few +hundred yards of looser cinders, taxed her remaining strength to the +limit. She grew hot and wet and out of breath. Her heart labored. An +unreasonable antipathy seemed to attend her efforts. Only her +ridiculous vanity held her to this task. She wanted to please Glenn, +but not so earnestly that she would have kept on plodding up this +ghastly bare mound of cinders. Carley did not mind being a tenderfoot, +but she hated the thought of these Westerners considering her a +weakling. So she bore the pain of raw blisters and the miserable +sensation of staggering on under a leaden weight. + +Several times she noted that Flo and Stanton halted to face each other +in rather heated argument. At least Stanton’s red face and forceful +gestures attested to heat on his part. Flo evidently was weary of +argument, and in answer to a sharp reproach she retorted, “Shore I was +different after he came.” To which Stanton responded by a quick +passionate shrinking as if he had been stung. + +Carley had her own reaction to this speech she could not help hearing; +and inwardly, at least, her feeling must have been similar to +Stanton’s. She forgot the object of this climb and looked off to her +right at the green level without really seeing it. A vague sadness +weighed upon her soul. Was there to be a tangle of fates here, a +conflict of wills, a crossing of loves? Flo’s terse confession could +not be taken lightly. Did she mean that she loved Glenn? Carley began +to fear it. Only another reason why she must persuade Glenn to go back +East! But the closer Carley came to what she divined must be an ordeal +the more she dreaded it. This raw, crude West might have confronted her +with a situation beyond her control. And as she dragged her weighted +feet through the cinders, kicking, up little puffs of black dust, she +felt what she admitted to be an unreasonable resentment toward these +Westerners and their barren, isolated, and boundless world. + +“Carley,” called Flo, “come—looksee, as the Indians say. Here is +Glenn’s Painted Desert, and I reckon it’s shore worth seeing.” + +To Carley’s surprise, she found herself upon the knob of the foothill. +And when she looked out across a suddenly distinguishable void she +seemed struck by the immensity of something she was unable to grasp. +She dropped her bridle; she gazed slowly, as if drawn, hearing Flo’s +voice. + +“That thin green line of cottonwoods down there is the Little Colorado +River,” Flo was saying. “Reckon it’s sixty miles, all down hill. The +Painted Desert begins there and also the Navajo Reservation. You see +the white strips, the red veins, the yellow bars, the black lines. They +are all desert steps leading up and up for miles. That sharp black peak +is called Wildcat. It’s about a hundred miles. You see the desert +stretching away to the right, growing dim—lost in distance? We don’t +know that country. But that north country we know as landmarks, anyway. +Look at that saw-tooth range. The Indians call it Echo Cliffs. At the +far end it drops off into the Colorado River. Lee’s Ferry is +there—about one hundred and sixty miles. That ragged black rent is the +Grand Canyon. Looks like a thread, doesn’t it? But Carley, it’s some +hole, believe me. Away to the left you see the tremendous wall rising +and turning to come this way. That’s the north wall of the Canyon. It +ends at the great bluff—Greenland Point. See the black fringe above the +bar of gold. That’s a belt of pine trees. It’s about eighty miles +across this ragged old stone washboard of a desert. ... Now turn and +look straight and strain your sight over Wildcat. See the rim purple +dome. You must look hard. I’m glad it’s clear and the sun is shining. +We don’t often get this view.... That purple dome is Navajo Mountain, +two hundred miles and more away!” + +Carley yielded to some strange drawing power and slowly walked forward +until she stood at the extreme edge of the summit. + +What was it that confounded her sight? Desert slope—down and +down—color—distance—space! The wind that blew in her face seemed to +have the openness of the whole world back of it. Cold, sweet, dry, +exhilarating, it breathed of untainted vastness. Carley’s memory +pictures of the Adirondacks faded into pastorals; her vaunted images of +European scenery changed to operetta settings. She had nothing with +which to compare this illimitable space. + +“Oh!—America!” was her unconscious tribute. + +Stanton and Flo had come on to places beside her. The young man +laughed. “Wal, now Miss Carley, you couldn’t say more. When I was in +camp trainin’ for service overseas I used to remember how this looked. +An’ it seemed one of the things I was goin’ to fight for. Reckon I +didn’t the idea of the Germans havin’ my Painted Desert. I didn’t get +across to fight for it, but I shore was willin’.” + +“You see, Carley, this is our America,” said Flo, softly. + +Carley had never understood the meaning of the word. The immensity of +the West seemed flung at her. What her vision beheld, so far-reaching +and boundless, was only a dot on the map. + +“Does any one live—out there?” she asked, with slow sweep of hand. + +“A few white traders and some Indian tribes,” replied Stanton. “But you +can ride all day an’ next day an’ never see a livin’ soul.” + +What was the meaning of the gratification in his voice? Did Westerners +court loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look +at her companions. Stanton’s eyes were narrowed; his expression had +changed; lean and hard and still, his face resembled bronze. The +careless humor was gone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with +Flo. The girl, too, had subtly changed, had responded to an influence +that had subdued and softened her. She was mute; her eyes held a light, +comprehensive and all-embracing; she was beautiful then. For Carley, +quick to read emotion, caught a glimpse of a strong, steadfast soul +that spiritualized the brown freckled face. + +Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incomprehensible abyss, +and on to the far up-flung heights, white and red and yellow, and so on +to the wonderful mystic haze of distance. The significance of Flo’s +designation of miles could not be grasped by Carley. She could not +estimate distance. But she did not need that to realize her perceptions +were swallowed up by magnitude. Hitherto the power of her eyes had been +unknown. How splendid to see afar! She could see—yes—but what did she +see? Space first, annihilating space, dwarfing her preconceived images, +and then wondrous colors! What had she known of color? No wonder +artists failed adequately and truly to paint mountains, let alone the +desert space. The toiling millions of the crowded cities were ignorant +of this terrible beauty and sublimity. Would it have helped them to +see? But just to breathe that untainted air, just to see once the +boundless open of colored sand and rock—to realize what the freedom of +eagles meant would not that have helped anyone? + +And with the thought there came to Carley’s quickened and struggling +mind a conception of freedom. She had not yet watched eagles, but she +now gazed out into their domain. What then must be the effect of such +environment on people whom it encompassed? The idea stunned Carley. +Would such people grow in proportion to the nature with which they were +in conflict? Hereditary influence could not be comparable to such +environment in the shaping of character. + +“Shore I could stand here all day,” said Flo. “But it’s beginning to +cloud over and this high wind is cold. So we’d better go, Carley.” + +“I don’t know what I am, but it’s not cold,” replied Carley. + +“Wal, Miss Carley, I reckon you’ll have to come again an’ again before +you get a comfortable feelin’ here,” said Stanton. + +It surprised Carley to see that this young Westerner had hit upon the +truth. He understood her. Indeed she was uncomfortable. She was +oppressed, vaguely unhappy. But why? The thing there—the infinitude of +open sand and rock—was beautiful, wonderful, even glorious. She looked +again. + +Steep black-cindered slope, with its soft gray patches of grass, +sheered down and down, and out in rolling slope to merge upon a +cedar-dotted level. Nothing moved below, but a red-tailed hawk sailed +across her vision. How still—how gray the desert floor as it reached +away, losing its black dots, and gaining bronze spots of stone! By +plain and prairie it fell away, each inch of gray in her sight +magnifying into its league-long roll. On and on, and down across dark +lines that were steppes, and at last blocked and changed by the +meandering green thread which was the verdure of a desert river. Beyond +stretched the white sand, where whirlwinds of dust sent aloft their +funnel-shaped spouts; and it led up to the horizon-wide ribs and ridges +of red and walls of yellow and mountains of black, to the dim mound of +purple so ethereal and mystic against the deep-blue cloud-curtained +band of sky. + +And on the moment the sun was obscured and that world of colorful flame +went out, as if a blaze had died. + +Deprived of its fire, the desert seemed to retreat, to fade coldly and +gloomily, to lose its great landmarks in dim obscurity. Closer, around +to the north, the canyon country yawned with innumerable gray jaws, +ragged and hard, and the riven earth took on a different character. It +had no shadows. It grew flat and, like the sea, seemed to mirror the +vast gray cloud expanse. The sublime vanished, but the desolate +remained. No warmth—no movement—no life! Dead stone it was, cut into a +million ruts by ruthless ages. Carley felt that she was gazing down +into chaos. + +At this moment, as before, a hawk had crossed her vision, so now a +raven sailed by, black as coal, uttering a hoarse croak. + +“Quoth the raven—” murmured Carley, with a half-bitter laugh, as she +turned away shuddering in spite of an effort of self-control. “Maybe he +meant this wonderful and terrible West is never for such as I.... Come, +let us go.” + + +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. + +At this point the members of Hutter’s party dismounted and tied their +horses to the top log of the fence. When Carley essayed to get off +Glenn tried to stop her, saying she could see well enough from there. +But Carley got down and followed Flo. She heard Hutter call to Glenn: +“Say, Ryan is short of men. We’ll lend a hand for a couple of hours.” + +Presently Carley reached Flo’s side and the first corral that contained +sheep. They formed a compact woolly mass, rather white in color, with a +tinge of pink. When Flo climbed up on the fence the flock plunged as +one animal and with a trampling roar ran to the far side of the corral. +Several old rams with wide curling horns faced around; and some of the +ewes climbed up on the densely packed mass. Carley rather enjoyed +watching them. She surely could not see anything amiss in this sight. + +The next corral held a like number of sheep, and also several Mexicans +who were evidently driving them into a narrow lane that led farther +down. Carley saw the heads of men above other corral fences, and there +was also a thick yellowish smoke rising from somewhere. + +“Carley, are you game to see the dip?” asked Flo, with good nature that +yet had a touch of taunt in it. + +“That’s my middle name,” retorted Carley, flippantly. + +Both Glenn and this girl seemed to be bent upon bringing out Carley’s +worst side, and they were succeeding. Flo laughed. The ready slang +pleased her. + +She led Carley along that log fence, through a huge open gate, and +across a wide pen to another fence, which she scaled. Carley followed +her, not particularly overanxious to look ahead. Some thick odor had +begun to reach Carley’s delicate nostrils. Flo led down a short lane +and climbed another fence, and sat astride the top log. Carley hurried +along to clamber up to her side, but stood erect with her feet on the +second log of the fence. + +Then a horrible stench struck Carley almost like a blow in the face, +and before her confused sight there appeared to be drifting smoke and +active men and running sheep, all against a background of mud. But at +first it was the odor that caused Carley to close her eyes and press +her knees hard against the upper log to keep from reeling. Never in her +life had such a sickening nausea assailed her. It appeared to attack +her whole body. The forerunning qualm of seasickness was as nothing to +this. Carley gave a gasp, pinched her nose between her fingers so she +could not smell, and opened her eyes. + +Directly beneath her was a small pen open at one end into which sheep +were being driven from the larger corral. The drivers were yelling. The +sheep in the rear plunged into those ahead of them, forcing them on. +Two men worked in this small pen. One was a brawny giant in undershirt +and overalls that appeared filthy. He held a cloth in his hand and +strode toward the nearest sheep. Folding the cloth round the neck of +the sheep, he dragged it forward, with an ease which showed great +strength, and threw it into a pit that yawned at the side. Souse went +the sheep into a murky, muddy pool and disappeared. But suddenly its +head came up and then its shoulders. And it began half to walk and half +swim down what appeared to be a narrow boxlike ditch that contained +other floundering sheep. Then Carley saw men on each side of this ditch +bending over with poles that had crooks at the end, and their work was +to press and pull the sheep along to the end of the ditch, and drive +them up a boarded incline into another corral where many other sheep +huddled, now a dirty muddy color like the liquid into which they had +been emersed. Souse! Splash! In went sheep after sheep. Occasionally +one did not go under. And then a man would press it under with the +crook and quickly lift its head. The work went on with precision and +speed, in spite of the yells and trampling and baa-baas, and the +incessant action that gave an effect of confusion. + +Carley saw a pipe leading from a huge boiler to the ditch. The dark +fluid was running out of it. From a rusty old engine with big +smokestack poured the strangling smoke. A man broke open a sack of +yellow powder and dumped it into the ditch. Then he poured an acid-like +liquid after it. + +“Sulphur and nicotine,” yelled Flo up at Carley. “The dip’s poison. If +a sheep opens his mouth he’s usually a goner. But sometimes they save +one.” + +Carley wanted to tear herself away from this disgusting spectacle. But +it held her by some fascination. She saw Glenn and Hutter fall in line +with the other men, and work like beavers. These two pacemakers in the +small pen kept the sheep coming so fast that every worker below had a +task cut out for him. Suddenly Flo squealed and pointed. + +“There! that sheep didn’t come up,” she cried. “Shore he opened his +mouth.” + +Then Carley saw Glenn energetically plunge his hooked pole in and out +and around until he had located the submerged sheep. He lifted its head +above the dip. The sheep showed no sign of life. Down on his knees +dropped Glenn, to reach the sheep with strong brown hands, and to haul +it up on the ground, where it flopped inert. Glenn pummeled it and +pressed it, and worked on it much as Carley had seen a life-guard work +over a half-drowned man. But the sheep did not respond to Glenn’s +active administrations. + +“No use, Glenn,” yelled Hutter, hoarsely. “That one’s a goner.” + +Carley did not fail to note the state of Glenn’s hands and arms and +overalls when he returned to the ditch work. Then back and forth +Carley’s gaze went from one end to the other of that scene. And +suddenly it was arrested and held by the huge fellow who handled the +sheep so brutally. Every time he dragged one and threw it into the pit +he yelled: “Ho! Ho!” Carley was impelled to look at his face, and she +was amazed to meet the rawest and boldest stare from evil eyes that had +ever been her misfortune to incite. She felt herself stiffen with a +shock that was unfamiliar. This man was scarcely many years older than +Glenn, yet he had grizzled hair, a seamed and scarred visage, coarse, +thick lips, and beetling brows, from under which peered gleaming light +eyes. At every turn he flashed them upon Carley’s face, her neck, the +swell of her bosom. It was instinct that caused her hastily to close +her riding coat. She felt as if her flesh had been burned. Like a snake +he fascinated her. The intelligence in his bold gaze made the +beastliness of it all the harder to endure, all the stronger to arouse. + +“Come, Carley, let’s rustle out of this stinkin’ mess,” cried Flo. + +Indeed, Carley needed Flo’s assistance in clambering down out of the +choking smoke and horrid odor. + +“_Adios_, pretty eyes,” called the big man from the pen. + +“Well,” ejaculated Flo, when they got out, “I’ll bet I call Glenn good +and hard for letting you go down there.” + +“It was—my—fault,” panted Carley. “I said I’d stand it.” + +“Oh, you’re game, all right. I didn’t mean the dip.... That +sheep-slinger is Haze Ruff, the toughest _hombre_ on this range. Shore, +now, wouldn’t I like to take a shot at him?... I’m going to tell dad +and Glenn.” + +“Please don’t,” returned Carley, appealingly. + +“I shore am. Dad needs hands these days. That’s why he’s lenient. But +Glenn will cowhide Ruff and I want to see him do it.” + +In Flo Hutter then Carley saw another and a different spirit of the +West, a violence unrestrained and fierce that showed in the girl’s even +voice and in the piercing light of her eyes. + +They went back to the horses, got their lunches from the saddlebags, +and, finding comfortable seats in a sunny, protected place, they ate +and talked. Carley had to force herself to swallow. It seemed that the +horrid odor of dip and sheep had permeated everything. Glenn had known +her better than she had known herself, and he had wished to spare her +an unnecessary and disgusting experience. Yet so stubborn was Carley +that she did not regret going through with it. + +“Carley, I don’t mind telling you that you’ve stuck it out better than +any tenderfoot we ever had here,” said Flo. + +“Thank you. That from a Western girl is a compliment I’ll not soon +forget,” replied Carley. + +“I shore mean it. We’ve had rotten weather. And to end the little trip +at this sheep-dip hole! Why, Glenn certainly wanted you to stack up +against the real thing!” + +“Flo, he did not want me to come on the trip, and especially here,” +protested Carley. + +“Shore I know. But he _let_ you.” + +“Neither Glenn nor any other man could prevent me from doing what I +wanted to do.” + +“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” drawled Flo, “I’ll differ with you. I +reckon Glenn Kilbourne is not the man you knew before the war.” + +“No, he is not. But that does not alter the case.” + +“Carley, we’re not well acquainted,” went on Flo, more carefully +feeling her way, “and I’m not your kind. I don’t know your Eastern +ways. But I know what the West does to a man. The war ruined your +friend—both his body and mind.... How sorry mother and I were for +Glenn, those days when it looked he’d sure ‘go west,’ for good!... Did +you know he’d been gassed and that he had five hemorrhages?” + +“Oh! I knew his lungs had been weakened by gas. But he never told me +about having hemorrhages.” + +“Well, he shore had them. The last one I’ll never forget. Every time +he’d cough it would fetch the blood. I could tell!... Oh, it was awful. +I begged him _not_ to cough. He smiled—like a ghost smiling—and he +whispered, ‘I’ll quit.’... And he did. The doctor came from Flagstaff +and packed him in ice. Glenn sat propped up all night and never moved a +muscle. Never coughed again! And the bleeding stopped. After that we +put him out on the porch where he could breathe fresh air all the time. +There’s something wonderfully healing in Arizona air. It’s from the dry +desert and here it’s full of cedar and pine. Anyway Glenn got well. And +I think the West has cured his mind, too.” + +“Of what?” queried Carley, in an intense curiosity she could scarcely +hide. + +“Oh, God only knows!” exclaimed Flo, throwing up her gloved hands. “I +never could understand. But I _hated_ what the war did to him.” + +Carley leaned back against the log, quite spent. Flo was unwittingly +torturing her. Carley wanted passionately to give in to jealousy of +this Western girl, but she could not do it. Flo Hutter deserved better +than that. And Carley’s baser nature seemed in conflict with all that +was noble in her. The victory did not yet go to either side. This was a +bad hour for Carley. Her strength had about played out, and her spirit +was at low ebb. + +“Carley, you’re all in,” declared Flo. “You needn’t deny it. I’m shore +you’ve made good with me as a tenderfoot who stayed the limit. But +there’s no sense in your killing yourself, nor in me letting you. So +I’m going to tell dad we want to go home.” + +She left Carley there. The word home had struck strangely into Carley’s +mind and remained there. Suddenly she realized what it was to be +homesick. The comfort, the ease, the luxury, the rest, the sweetness, +the pleasure, the cleanliness, the gratification to eye and ear—to all +the senses—how these thoughts came to haunt her! All of Carley’s will +power had been needed to sustain her on this trip to keep her from +miserably failing. She had not failed. But contact with the West had +affronted, disgusted, shocked, and alienated her. In that moment she +could not be fair minded; she knew it; she did not care. + +Carley gazed around her. Only one of the cabins was in sight from this +position. Evidently it was a home for some of these men. On one side +the peaked rough roof had been built out beyond the wall, evidently to +serve as a kind of porch. On that wall hung the motliest assortment of +things Carley had ever seen—utensils, sheep and cow hides, saddles, +harness, leather clothes, ropes, old sombreros, shovels, stove pipe, +and many other articles for which she could find no name. The most +striking characteristic manifest in this collection was that of +service. How they had been used! They had enabled people to live under +primitive conditions. Somehow this fact inhibited Carley’s sense of +repulsion at their rude and uncouth appearance. Had any of her +forefathers ever been pioneers? Carley did not know, but the thought +was disturbing. It was thought-provoking. Many times at home, when she +was dressing for dinner, she had gazed into the mirror at the graceful +lines of her throat and arms, at the proud poise of her head, at the +alabaster whiteness of her skin, and wonderingly she had asked of her +image: “Can it be possible that I am a descendant of cavemen?” She had +never been able to realize it, yet she knew it was true. Perhaps +somewhere not far back along her line there had been a +great-great-grandmother who had lived some kind of a primitive life, +using such implements and necessaries as hung on this cabin wall, and +thereby helped some man to conquer the wilderness, to live in it, and +reproduce his kind. Like flashes Glenn’s words came back to +Carley—“Work and children!” + +Some interpretation of his meaning and how it related to this hour held +aloof from Carley. If she would ever be big enough to understand it and +broad enough to accept it the time was far distant. Just now she was +sore and sick physically, and therefore certainly not in a receptive +state of mind. Yet how could she have keener impressions than these she +was receiving? It was all a problem. She grew tired of thinking. But +even then her mind pondered on, a stream of consciousness over which +she had no control. This dreary woods was deserted. No birds, no +squirrels, no creatures such as fancy anticipated! In another +direction, across the canyon, she saw cattle, gaunt, ragged, lumbering, +and stolid. And on the moment the scent of sheep came on the breeze. +Time seemed to stand still here, and what Carley wanted most was for +the hours and days to fly, so that she would be home again. + +At last Flo returned with the men. One quick glance at Glenn convinced +Carley that Flo had not yet told him about the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. + +“Carley, you’re a real sport,” declared Glenn, with the rare smile she +loved. “It’s a dreadful mess. And to think you stood it!... Why, old +Fifth Avenue, if you needed to make another hit with me you’ve done +it!” + +His warmth amazed and pleased Carley. She could not quite understand +why it would have made any difference to him whether she had stood the +ordeal or not. But then every day she seemed to drift a little farther +from a real understanding of her lover. His praise gladdened her, and +fortified her to face the rest of this ride back to Oak Creek. + +Four hours later, in a twilight so shadowy that no one saw her +distress, Carley half slipped and half fell from her horse and managed +somehow to mount the steps and enter the bright living room. A cheerful +red fire blazed on the hearth; Glenn’s hound, Moze, trembled eagerly at +sight of her and looked up with humble dark eyes; the white-clothed +dinner table steamed with savory dishes. Flo stood before the blaze, +warming her hands. Lee Stanton leaned against the mantel, with eyes on +her, and every line of his lean, hard face expressed his devotion to +her. Hutter was taking his seat at the head of the table. “Come an’ get +it—you-all,” he called, heartily. Mrs. Hutter’s face beamed with the +spirit of that home. And lastly, Carley saw Glenn waiting for her, +watching her come, true in this very moment to his stern hope for her +and pride in her, as she dragged her weary, spent body toward him and +the bright fire. + +By these signs, or the effect of them, Carley vaguely realized that she +was incalculably changing, that this Carley Burch had become a vastly +bigger person in the sight of her friends, and strangely in her own a +lesser creature. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +If spring came at all to Oak Creek Canyon it warmed into summer before +Carley had time to languish with the fever characteristic of early June +in the East. + +As if by magic it seemed the green grass sprang up, the green buds +opened into leaves, the bluebells and primroses bloomed, the apple and +peach blossoms burst exquisitely white and pink against the blue sky. +Oak Creek fell to a transparent, beautiful brook, leisurely eddying in +the stone walled nooks, hurrying with murmur and babble over the little +falls. The mornings broke clear and fragrantly cool, the noon hours +seemed to lag under a hot sun, the nights fell like dark mantles from +the melancholy star-sown sky. + +Carley had stubbornly kept on riding and climbing until she killed her +secret doubt that she was really a thoroughbred, until she satisfied +her own insistent vanity that she could train to a point where this +outdoor life was not too much for her strength. She lost flesh despite +increase of appetite; she lost her pallor for a complexion of +gold-brown she knew her Eastern friends would admire; she wore out the +blisters and aches and pains; she found herself growing firmer of +muscle, lither of line, deeper of chest. And in addition to these +physical manifestations there were subtle intimations of a delight in a +freedom of body she had never before known, of an exhilaration in +action that made her hot and made her breathe, of a sloughing off of +numberless petty and fussy and luxurious little superficialities which +she had supposed were necessary to her happiness. What she had +undertaken in vain conquest of Glenn’s pride and Flo Hutter’s Western +tolerance she had found to be a boomerang. She had won Glenn’s +admiration; she had won the Western girl’s recognition. But her +passionate, stubborn desire had been ignoble, and was proved so by the +rebound of her achievement, coming home to her with a sweetness she had +not the courage to accept. She forced it from her. This West with its +rawness, its ruggedness, she hated. + +Nevertheless, the June days passed, growing dreamily swift, growing +more incomprehensibly full; and still she had not broached to Glenn the +main object of her visit—to take him back East. Yet a little while +longer! She hated his work and had not talked of that. Yet an honest +consciousness told her that as time flew by she feared more and more to +tell him that he was wasting his life there and that she could not bear +it. Still was he wasting it? Once in a while a timid and unfamiliar +Carley Burch voiced a pregnant query. Perhaps what held Carley back +most was the happiness she achieved in her walks and rides with Glenn. +She lingered because of them. Every day she loved him more, and +yet—there was something. Was it in her or in him? She had a woman’s +assurance of his love and sometimes she caught her breath—so sweet and +strong was the tumultuous emotion it stirred. She preferred to enjoy +while she could, to dream instead of think. But it was not possible to +hold a blank, dreamy, lulled consciousness all the time. Thought would +return. And not always could she drive away a feeling that Glenn would +never be her slave. She divined something in his mind that kept him +gentle and kindly, restrained always, sometimes melancholy and aloof, +as if he were an impassive destiny waiting for the iron consequences he +knew inevitably must fall. What was this that he knew which she did not +know? The idea haunted her. Perhaps it was that which compelled her to +use all her woman’s wiles and charms on Glenn. Still, though it +thrilled her to see she made him love her more as the days passed, she +could not blind herself to the truth that no softness or allurement of +hers changed this strange restraint in him. How that baffled her! Was +it resistance or knowledge or nobility or doubt? + +Flo Hutter’s twentieth birthday came along the middle of June, and all +the neighbors and range hands for miles around were invited to +celebrate it. + +For the second time during her visit Carley put on the white gown that +had made Flo gasp with delight, and had stunned Mrs. Hutter, and had +brought a reluctant compliment from Glenn. Carley liked to create a +sensation. What were exquisite and expensive gowns for, if not that? + +It was twilight on this particular June night when she was ready to go +downstairs, and she tarried a while on the long porch. The evening +star, so lonely and radiant, so cold and passionless in the dusky blue, +had become an object she waited for and watched, the same as she had +come to love the dreaming, murmuring melody of the waterfall. She +lingered there. What had the sights and sounds and smells of this wild +canyon come to mean to her? She could not say. But they had changed her +immeasurably. + +Her soft slippers made no sound on the porch, and as she turned the +corner of the house, where shadows hovered thick, she heard Lee +Stanton’s voice: + +“But, Flo, you loved me before Kilbourne came.” + +The content, the pathos, of his voice chained Carley to the spot. Some +situations, like fate, were beyond resisting. + +“Shore I did,” replied Flo, dreamily. This was the voice of a girl who +was being confronted by happy and sad thoughts on her birthday. + +“Don’t you—love me—still?” he asked, huskily. + +“Why, of course, Lee! _I_ don’t change,” she said. + +“But then, why—” There for the moment his utterance or courage failed. + +“Lee, do you want the honest to God’s truth?” + +“I reckon—I do.” + +“Well, I love you just as I always did,” replied Flo, earnestly. “But, +Lee, I love—_him_ more than you or anybody.” + +“My Heaven! Flo—you’ll ruin us all!” he exclaimed, hoarsely. + +“No, I won’t either. You can’t say I’m not level headed. I hated to +tell you this, Lee, but you made me.” + +“Flo, you love me an’ him—two men?” queried Stanton, incredulously. + +“I shore do,” she drawled, with a soft laugh. “And it’s no fun.” + +“Reckon I don’t cut much of a figure alongside Kilbourne,” said +Stanton, disconsolately. + +“Lee, you could stand alongside any man,” replied Flo, eloquently. +“You’re Western, and you’re steady and loyal, and you’ll—well, some day +you’ll be like dad. Could I say more?... But, Lee, this man is +_different_. He is wonderful. I can’t explain it, but I feel it. He has +been through hell’s fire. Oh! will I ever forget his ravings when he +lay so ill? He means more to me than just _one_ man. He’s American. +You’re American, too, Lee, and you trained to be a soldier, and you +would have made a grand one—if I know old Arizona. But you were not +called to France.... Glenn Kilbourne went. God only knows what that +means. But he _went_. And there’s the difference. I saw the wreck of +him. I did a little to save his life and his mind. I wouldn’t be an +American girl if I _didn’t_ love him.... Oh, Lee, can’t you +understand?” + +“I reckon so. I’m not begrudging Glenn what—what you care. I’m only +afraid I’ll lose you.” + +“I never promised to marry you, did I?” + +“Not in words. But kisses ought to—?” + +“Yes, kisses mean a lot,” she replied. “And so far I stand committed. I +suppose I’ll marry you some day and be blamed lucky. I’ll be happy, +too—don’t you overlook that hunch.... You needn’t worry. Glenn is in +love with Carley. She’s beautiful, rich—and of his class. How could he +ever see me?” + +“Flo, you can never tell,” replied Stanton, thoughtfully. “I didn’t +like her at first. But I’m comin’ round. The thing is, Flo, does she +love him as you love him?” + +“Oh, I think so—I hope so,” answered Flo, as if in distress. + +“I’m not so shore. But then I can’t savvy her. Lord knows I hope so, +too. If she doesn’t—if she goes back East an’ leaves him here—I reckon +my case—” + +“Hush! I know she’s out here to take him back. Let’s go downstairs +now.” + +“Aw, wait—Flo,” he begged. “What’s your hurry?... Come-give me—” + +“There! That’s all you get, birthday or no birthday,” replied Flo, +gayly. + +Carley heard the soft kiss and Stanton’s deep breath, and then +footsteps as they walked away in the gloom toward the stairway. Carley +leaned against the log wall. She felt the rough wood—smelled the rusty +pine rosin. Her other hand pressed her bosom where her heart beat with +unwonted vigor. Footsteps and voices sounded beneath her. Twilight had +deepened into night. The low murmur of the waterfall and the babble of +the brook floated to her strained ears. + +Listeners never heard good of themselves. But Stanton’s subtle doubt of +any depth to her, though it hurt, was not so conflicting as the ringing +truth of Flo Hutter’s love for Glenn. This unsought knowledge +powerfully affected Carley. She was forewarned and forearmed now. It +saddened her, yet did not lessen her confidence in her hold on Glenn. +But it stirred to perplexing pitch her curiosity in regard to the +mystery that seemed to cling round Glenn’s transformation of character. +This Western girl really knew more about Glenn than his fiancée knew. +Carley suffered a humiliating shock when she realized that she had been +thinking of herself, of her love, her life, her needs, her wants +instead of Glenn’s. It took no keen intelligence or insight into human +nature to see that Glenn needed her more than she needed him. + +Thus unwontedly stirred and upset and flung back upon pride of herself, +Carley went downstairs to meet the assembled company. And never had she +shown to greater contrast, never had circumstance and state of mind +contrived to make her so radiant and gay and unbending. She heard many +remarks not intended for her far-reaching ears. An old grizzled +Westerner remarked to Hutter: “Wall, she’s shore an unbroke filly.” +Another of the company—a woman—remarked: “Sweet an’ pretty as a +columbine. But I’d like her better if she was dressed decent.” And a +gaunt range rider, who stood with others at the porch door, looking on, +asked a comrade: “Do you reckon that’s style back East?” To which the +other replied: “Mebbe, but I’d gamble they’re short on silk back East +an’ likewise sheriffs.” + +Carley received some meed of gratification out of the sensation she +created, but she did not carry her craving for it to the point of +overshadowing Flo. On the contrary, she contrived to have Flo share the +attention she received. She taught Flo to dance the fox-trot and got +Glenn to dance with her. Then she taught it to Lee Stanton. And when +Lee danced with Flo, to the infinite wonder and delight of the +onlookers, Carley experienced her first sincere enjoyment of the +evening. + +Her moment came when she danced with Glenn. It reminded her of days +long past and which she wanted to return again. Despite war tramping +and Western labors Glenn retained something of his old grace and +lightness. But just to dance with him was enough to swell her heart, +and for once she grew oblivious to the spectators. + +“Glenn, would you like to go to the Plaza with me again, and dance +between dinner courses, as we used to?” she whispered up to him. + +“Sure I would—unless Morrison knew you were to be there,” he replied. + +“Glenn!... I would not even see him.” + +“Any old time you wouldn’t see Morrison!” he exclaimed, half mockingly. + +His doubt, his tone grated upon her. Pressing closer to him, she said, +“Come back and I’ll prove it.” + +But he laughed and had no answer for her. At her own daring words +Carley’s heart had leaped to her lips. If he had responded, even +teasingly, she could have burst out with her longing to take him back. +But silence inhibited her, and the moment passed. + +At the end of that dance Hutter claimed Glenn in the interest of +neighboring sheep men. And Carley, crossing the big living room alone, +passed close to one of the porch doors. Some one, indistinct in the +shadow, spoke to her in low voice: “Hello, pretty eyes!” + +Carley felt a little cold shock go tingling through her. But she gave +no sign that she had heard. She recognized the voice and also the +epithet. Passing to the other side of the room and joining the company +there, Carley presently took a casual glance at the door. Several men +were lounging there. One of them was the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. His +bold eyes were on her now, and his coarse face wore a slight, meaning +smile, as if he understood something about her that was a secret to +others. Carley dropped her eyes. But she could not shake off the +feeling that wherever she moved this man’s gaze followed her. The +unpleasantness of this incident would have been nothing to Carley had +she at once forgotten it. Most unaccountably, however, she could not +make herself unaware of this ruffian’s attention. It did no good for +her to argue that she was merely the cynosure of all eyes. This Ruff’s +tone and look possessed something heretofore unknown to Carley. Once +she was tempted to tell Glenn. But that would only cause a fight, so +she kept her counsel. She danced again, and helped Flo entertain her +guests, and passed that door often; and once stood before it, +deliberately, with all the strange and contrary impulse so inscrutable +in a woman, and never for a moment wholly lost the sense of the man’s +boldness. It dawned upon her, at length, that the singular thing about +this boldness was its difference from any, which had ever before +affronted her. The fool’s smile meant that he thought she saw his +attention, and, understanding it perfectly, had secret delight in it. +Many and various had been the masculine egotisms which had come under +her observation. But quite beyond Carley was this brawny sheep dipper, +Haze Ruff. Once the party broke up and the guests had departed, she +instantly forgot both man and incident. + +Next day, late in the afternoon, when Carley came out on the porch, she +was hailed by Flo, who had just ridden in from down the canyon. + +“Hey Carley, come down. I shore have something to tell you,” she +called. + +Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway. +Flo was dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of +sheep-dip. + +“Been over to Ryan’s camp an’ shore rode hard to beat Glenn home,” +drawled Flo. + +“Why?” queried Carley, eagerly. + +“Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn’t let me +tell. ... He makes me tired. He thinks you can’t stand things.” + +“Oh! Has he been—hurt?” + +“He’s skinned an’ bruised up some, but I reckon he’s not hurt.” + +“Flo—what happened?” demanded Carley, anxiously. + +“Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?” asked Flo. + +“No, I don’t. But I remember he used to be athletic. Flo, you make me +nervous. Did Glenn fight?” + +“I reckon he did,” drawled Flo. + +“With whom?” + +“Nobody else but that big _hombre_, Haze Ruff.” + +“Oh!” gasped Carley, with a violent start. “That—that ruffian! Flo, did +you see—were you there?” + +“I shore was, an’ next to a horse race I like a fight,” replied the +Western girl. “Carley, why didn’t you tell me Haze Ruff insulted you +last night?” + +“Why, Flo—he only said, ‘Hello, pretty eyes,’ and I let it pass!” said +Carley, lamely. + +“You never want to let anything pass, out West. Because next time +you’ll get worse. This turn your other cheek doesn’t go in Arizona. But +we shore thought Ruff said worse than that. Though from him that’s +aplenty.” + +“How did you know?” + +“Well, Charley told it. He was standing out here by the door last night +an’ he heard Ruff speak to you. Charley thinks a heap of you an’ I +reckon he hates Ruff. Besides, Charley stretches things. He shore riled +Glenn, an’ I want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that’s +happened since you got here.” + +“Hurry—tell me,” begged Carley, feeling the blood come to her face. + +“I rode over to Ryan’s place for dad, an’ when I got there I knew +nothing about what Ruff said to you,” began Flo, and she took hold of +Carley’s hand. “Neither did dad. You see, Glenn hadn’t got there yet. +Well, just as the men had finished dipping a bunch of sheep Glenn came +riding down, lickety cut.” + +“‘Now what the hell’s wrong with Glenn?’ said dad, getting up from +where we sat. + +“Shore I knew Glenn was mad, though I never before saw him that way. He +looked sort of grim an’ black.... Well, he rode right down on us an’ +piled off. Dad yelled at him an’ so did I. But Glenn made for the sheep +pen. You know where we watched Haze Ruff an’ Lorenzo slinging the sheep +into the dip. Ruff was just about to climb out over the fence when +Glenn leaped up on it.” + +“‘Say, Ruff,’ he said, sort of hard, ‘Charley an’ Ben tell me they +heard you speak disrespectfully to Miss Burch last night.’” + +“Dad an’ I ran to the fence, but before we could catch hold of Glenn +he’d jumped down into the pen.” + +“‘I’m not carin’ much for what them herders say,’ replied Ruff. + +“‘Do you deny it?’ demanded Glenn. + +“‘I ain’t denyin’ nothin’, Kilbourne,’ growled Ruff. ‘I might argue +against me bein’ disrespectful. That’s a matter of opinion.’ + +“‘You’ll apologize for speaking to Miss Burch or I’ll beat you up an’ +have Hutter fire you.’ + +“‘Wal, Kilbourne, I never eat my words,’ replied Ruff. + +“Then Glenn knocked him flat. You ought to have heard that crack. +Sounded like Charley hitting a steer with a club. Dad yelled: ‘Look +out, Glenn. He packs a gun!’—Ruff got up mad clear through I reckon. +Then they mixed it. Ruff got in some swings, but he couldn’t reach +Glenn’s face. An’ Glenn batted him right an’ left, every time in his +ugly mug. Ruff got all bloody an’ he cussed something awful. Glenn beat +him against the fence an’ then we all saw Ruff reach for a gun or +knife. All the men yelled. An’ shore I screamed. But Glenn saw as much +as we saw. He got fiercer. He beat Ruff down to his knees an’ swung on +him hard. Deliberately knocked Ruff into the dip ditch. What a splash! +It wet all of us. Ruff went out of sight. Then he rolled up like a huge +hog. We were all scared now. That dip’s rank poison, you know. Reckon +Ruff knew that. He floundered along an’ crawled up at the end. Anyone +could see that he had mouth an’ eyes tight shut. He began to grope an’ +feel around, trying to find the way to the pond. One of the men led him +out. It was great to see him wade in the water an’ wallow an’ souse his +head under. When he came out the men got in front of him any stopped +him. He shore looked bad.... An’ Glenn called to him, ‘Ruff, that +sheep-dip won’t go through your tough hide, but a bullet will!” + + +Not long after this incident Carley started out on her usual afternoon +ride, having arranged with Glenn to meet her on his return from work. + +Toward the end of June Carley had advanced in her horsemanship to a +point where Flo lent her one of her own mustangs. This change might not +have had all to do with a wonderful difference in riding, but it seemed +so to Carley. There was as much difference in horses as in people. This +mustang she had ridden of late was of Navajo stock, but he had been +born and raised and broken at Oak Creek. Carley had not yet discovered +any objection on his part to do as she wanted him to. He liked what she +liked, and most of all he liked to go. His color resembled a pattern of +calico, and in accordance with Western ways his name was therefore +Calico. Left to choose his own gait, Calico always dropped into a +gentle pace which was so easy and comfortable and swinging that Carley +never tired of it. Moreover, he did not shy at things lying in the road +or rabbits darting from bushes or at the upwhirring of birds. Carley +had grown attached to Calico before she realized she was drifting into +it; and for Carley to care for anything or anybody was a serious +matter, because it did not happen often and it lasted. She was +exceedingly tenacious of affection. + +June had almost passed and summer lay upon the lonely land. Such +perfect and wonderful weather had never before been Carley’s +experience. The dawns broke cool, fresh, fragrant, sweet, and rosy, +with a breeze that seemed of heaven rather than earth, and the air +seemed tremulously full of the murmur of falling water and the melody +of mocking birds. At the solemn noontides the great white sun glared +down hot—so hot that it burned the skin, yet strangely was a pleasant +burn. The waning afternoons were Carley’s especial torment, when it +seemed the sounds and winds of the day were tiring, and all things were +seeking repose, and life must soften to an unthinking happiness. These +hours troubled Carley because she wanted them to last, and because she +knew for her this changing and transforming time could not last. So +long as she did not think she was satisfied. + +Maples and sycamores and oaks were in full foliage, and their bright +greens contrasted softly with the dark shine of the pines. Through the +spaces between brown tree trunks and the white-spotted holes of the +sycamores gleamed the amber water of the creek. Always there was murmur +of little rills and the musical dash of little rapids. On the surface +of still, shady pools trout broke to make ever-widening ripples. Indian +paintbrush, so brightly carmine in color, lent touch of fire to the +green banks, and under the oaks, in cool dark nooks where mossy +bowlders lined the stream, there were stately nodding yellow +columbines. And high on the rock ledges shot up the wonderful mescal +stalks, beginning to blossom, some with tints of gold and others with +tones of red. + +Riding along down the canyon, under its looming walls, Carley wondered +that if unawares to her these physical aspects of Arizona could have +become more significant than she realized. The thought had confronted +her before. Here, as always, she fought it and denied it by the simple +defense of elimination. Yet refusing to think of a thing when it seemed +ever present was not going to do forever. Insensibly and subtly it +might get a hold on her, never to be broken. Yet it was infinitely +easier to dream than to think. + +But the thought encroached upon her that it was not a dreamful habit of +mind she had fallen into of late. When she dreamed or mused she lived +vaguely and sweetly over past happy hours or dwelt in enchanted fancy +upon a possible future. Carley had been told by a Columbia professor +that she was a type of the present age—a modern young woman of +materialistic mind. Be that as it might, she knew many things seemed +loosening from the narrowness and tightness of her character, sloughing +away like scales, exposing a new and strange and susceptible softness +of fiber. And this blank habit of mind, when she did not think, and now +realized that she was not dreaming, seemed to be the body of Carley +Burch, and her heart and soul stripped of a shell. Nerve and emotion +and spirit received something from her surroundings. She absorbed her +environment. She felt. It was a delightful state. But when her own +consciousness caused it to elude her, then she both resented and +regretted. Anything that approached permanent attachment to this crude +and untenanted West Carley would not tolerate for a moment. Reluctantly +she admitted it had bettered her health, quickened her blood, and quite +relegated Florida and the Adirondacks, to little consideration. + +“Well, as I told Glenn,” soliloquized Carley, “every time I’m almost +won over a little to Arizona she gives me a hard jolt. I’m getting near +being mushy today. Now let’s see what I’ll get. I suppose that’s my +pessimism or materialism. Funny how Glenn keeps saying its the jolts, +the hard knocks, the fights that are best to remember afterward. I +don’t get that at all.” + +Five miles below West Fork a road branched off and climbed the left +side of the canyon. It was a rather steep road, long and zigzaging, and +full of rocks and ruts. Carley did not enjoy ascending it, but she +preferred the going up to coming down. It took half an hour to climb. + +Once up on the flat cedar-dotted desert she was met, full in the face, +by a hot dusty wind coming from the south. Carley searched her pockets +for her goggles, only to ascertain that she had forgotten them. +Nothing, except a freezing sleety wind, annoyed and punished Carley so +much as a hard puffy wind, full of sand and dust. Somewhere along the +first few miles of this road she was to meet Glenn. If she turned back +for any cause he would be worried, and, what concerned her more +vitally, he would think she had not the courage to face a little dust. +So Carley rode on. + +The wind appeared to be gusty. It would blow hard awhile, then lull for +a few moments. On the whole, however, it increased in volume and +persistence until she was riding against a gale. She had now come to a +bare, flat, gravelly region, scant of cedars and brush, and far ahead +she could see a dull yellow pall rising high into the sky. It was a +duststorm and it was sweeping down on the wings of that gale. Carley +remembered that somewhere along this flat there was a log cabin which +had before provided shelter for her and Flo when they were caught in a +rainstorm. It seemed unlikely that she had passed by this cabin. + +Resolutely she faced the gale and knew she had a task to find that +refuge. If there had been a big rock or bushy cedar to offer shelter +she would have welcomed it. But there was nothing. When the hard dusty +gusts hit her, she found it absolutely necessary to shut her eyes. At +intervals less windy she opened them, and rode on, peering through the +yellow gloom for the cabin. Thus she got her eyes full of dust—an +alkali dust that made them sting and smart. The fiercer puffs of wind +carried pebbles large enough to hurt severely. Then the dust clogged +her nose and sand got between her teeth. Added to these annoyances was +a heat like a blast from a furnace. Carley perspired freely and that +caked the dust on her face. She rode on, gradually growing more +uncomfortable and miserable. Yet even then she did not utterly lose a +sort of thrilling zest in being thrown upon her own responsibility. She +could hate an obstacle, yet feel something of pride in holding her own +against it. + +Another mile of buffeting this increasing gale so exhausted Carley and +wrought upon her nerves that she became nearly panic-stricken. It grew +harder and harder not to turn back. At last she was about to give up +when right at hand through the flying dust she espied the cabin. Riding +behind it, she dismounted and tied the mustang to a post. Then she ran +around to the door and entered. + +What a welcome refuge! She was all right now, and when Glenn came along +she would have added to her already considerable list another feat for +which he would commend her. With aid of her handkerchief, and the tears +that flowed so copiously, Carley presently freed her eyes of the +blinding dust. But when she essayed to remove it from her face she +discovered she would need a towel and soap and hot water. + +The cabin appeared to be enveloped in a soft, swishing, hollow sound. +It seeped and rustled. Then the sound lulled, only to rise again. +Carley went to the door, relieved and glad to see that the duststorm +was blowing by. The great sky-high pall of yellow had moved on to the +north. Puffs of dust were whipping along the road, but no longer in one +continuous cloud. In the west, low down the sun was sinking, a dull +magenta in hue, quite weird and remarkable. + +“I knew I’d get the jolt all right,” soliloquized Carley, wearily, as +she walked to a rude couch of poles and sat down upon it. She had begun +to cool off. And there, feeling dirty and tired, and slowly wearing to +the old depression, she composed herself to wait. + +Suddenly she heard the clip-clop of hoofs. “There! that’s Glenn,” she +cried, gladly, and rising, she ran to the door. + +She saw a big bay horse bearing a burly rider. He discovered her at the +same instant, and pulled his horse. + +“Ho! Ho! if it ain’t Pretty Eyes!” he called out, in gay, coarse voice. + +Carley recognized the voice, and then the epithet, before her sight +established the man as Haze Ruff. A singular stultifying shock passed +over her. + +“Wal, by all thet’s lucky!” he said, dismounting. “I knowed we’d meet +some day. I can’t say I just laid fer you, but I kept my eyes open.” + +Manifestly he knew she was alone, for he did not glance into the cabin. + +“I’m waiting for—Glenn,” she said, with lips she tried to make stiff. + +“Shore I reckoned thet,” he replied, genially. “But he won’t be along +yet awhile.” + +He spoke with a cheerful inflection of tone, as if the fact designated +was one that would please her; and his swarthy, seamy face expanded +into a good-humored, meaning smile. Then without any particular +rudeness he pushed her back from the door, into the cabin, and stepped +across the threshold. + +“How dare—you!” cried Carley. A hot anger that stirred in her seemed to +be beaten down and smothered by a cold shaking internal commotion, +threatening collapse. This man loomed over her, huge, somehow monstrous +in his brawny uncouth presence. And his knowing smile, and the hard, +glinting twinkle of his light eyes, devilishly intelligent and keen, in +no wise lessened the sheer brutal force of him physically. Sight of his +bulk was enough to terrorize Carley. + +“Me! Aw, I’m a darin’ _hombre_ an’ a devil with the wimmin,” he said, +with a guffaw. + +Carley could not collect her wits. The instant of his pushing her back +into the cabin and following her had shocked her and almost paralyzed +her will. If she saw him now any the less fearful she could not so +quickly rally her reason to any advantage. + +“Let me out of here,” she demanded. + +“Nope. I’m a-goin’ to make a little love to you,” he said, and he +reached for her with great hairy hands. + +Carley saw in them the strength that had so easily swung the sheep. She +saw, too, that they were dirty, greasy hands. And they made her flesh +creep. + +“Glenn will kill—you,” she panted. + +“What fer?” he queried, in real or pretended surprise. “Aw, I know +wimmin. You’ll never tell him.” + +“Yes, I will.” + +“Wal, mebbe. I reckon you’re lyin’, Pretty Eyes,” he replied, with a +grin. “Anyhow, I’ll take a chance.” + +“I tell you—he’ll kill you,” repeated Carley, backing away until her +weak knees came against the couch. + +“What fer, I ask you?” he demanded. + +“For this—this insult.” + +“Huh! I’d like to know who’s insulted you. Can’t a man take an +invitation to kiss an’ hug a girl—without insultin’ her?” + +“Invitation!... Are you crazy?” queried Carley, bewildered. + +“Nope, I’m not crazy, an’ I shore said invitation.... I meant thet +white shimmy dress you wore the night of Flo’s party. Thet’s my +invitation to get a little fresh with you, Pretty Eyes!” + +Carley could only stare at him. His words seemed to have some peculiar, +unanswerable power. + +“Wal, if it wasn’t an invitation, what was it?” he asked, with another +step that brought him within reach of her. He waited for her answer, +which was not forthcoming. + +“Wal, you’re gettin’ kinda pale around the gills,” he went on, +derisively. “I reckoned you was a real sport.... Come here.” + +He fastened one of his great hands in the front of her coat and gave +her a pull. So powerful was it that Carley came hard against him, +almost knocking her breathless. There he held her a moment and then put +his other arm round her. It seemed to crush both breath and sense out +of her. Suddenly limp, she sank strengthless. She seemed reeling in +darkness. Then she felt herself thrust away from him with violence. She +sank on the couch and her head and shoulders struck the wall. + +“Say, if you’re a-goin’ to keel over like thet I pass,” declared Ruff, +in disgust. “Can’t you Eastern wimmin stand nothin?” + +Carley’s eyes opened and beheld this man in an attitude of supremely +derisive protest. + +“You look like a sick kitten,” he added. “When I get me a sweetheart or +wife I want her to be a wild cat.” + +His scorn and repudiation of her gave Carley intense relief. She sat up +and endeavored to collect her shattered nerves. Ruff gazed down at her +with great disapproval and even disappointment. + +“Say, did you have some fool idee I was a-goin’ to kill you?” he +queried, gruffly. + +“I’m afraid—I did,” faltered Carley. Her relief was a release; it was +so strange that it was gratefulness. + +“Wal, I reckon I wouldn’t have hurt you. None of these flop-over Janes +for me!... An’ I’ll give you a hunch, Pretty Eyes. You might have run +acrost a fellar thet was no gentleman!” + +Of all the amazing statements that had ever been made to Carley, this +one seemed the most remarkable. + +“What’d you wear thet onnatural white dress fer?” he demanded, as if he +had a right to be her judge. + +“Unnatural?” echoed Carley. + +“Shore. Thet’s what I said. Any woman’s dress without top or bottom is +onnatural. It’s not right. Why, you looked like—like”—here he +floundered for adequate expression—“like one of the devil’s angels. An’ +I want to hear why you wore it.” + +“For the same reason I’d wear any dress,” she felt forced to reply. + +“Pretty Eyes, thet’s a lie. An’ you know it’s a lie. You wore thet +white dress to knock the daylights out of men. Only you ain’t honest +enough to say so.... Even me or my kind! Even us, who’re dirt under +your little feet. But all the same we’re men, an’ mebbe better men than +you think. If you had to put that dress on, why didn’t you stay in your +room? Naw, you had to come down an’ strut around an’ show off your +beauty. An’ I ask you—if you’re a nice girl like Flo Hutter—what’d you +wear it fer?” + +Carley not only was mute; she felt rise and burn in her a singular +shame and surprise. + +“I’m only a sheep dipper,” went on Ruff, “but I ain’t no fool. A fellar +doesn’t have to live East an’ wear swell clothes to have sense. Mebbe +you’ll learn thet the West is bigger’n you think. A man’s a man East or +West. But if your Eastern men stand for such dresses as thet white one +they’d do well to come out West awhile, like your lover, Glenn +Kilbourne. I’ve been rustlin’ round here ten years, an’ I never before +seen a dress like yours—an’ I never heerd of a girl bein’ insulted, +either. Mebbe you think I insulted you. Wal, I didn’t. Fer I reckon +_nothin_’ could insult you in thet dress.... An’ my last hunch is this, +Pretty Eyes. You’re not what a _hombre_ like me calls either square or +game. _Adios_.” + +His bulky figure darkened the doorway, passed out, and the light of the +sky streamed into the cabin again. Carley sat staring. She heard Ruff’s +spurs tinkle, then the ring of steel on stirrup, a sodden leathery +sound as he mounted, and after that a rapid pound of hoofs, quickly +dying away. + +He was gone. She had escaped something raw and violent. Dazedly she +realized it, with unutterable relief. And she sat there slowly +gathering the nervous force that had been shattered. Every word that he +had uttered was stamped in startling characters upon her consciousness. +But she was still under the deadening influence of shock. This raw +experience was the worst the West had yet dealt her. It brought back +former states of revulsion and formed them in one whole irrefutable and +damning judgment that seemed to blot out the vaguely dawning and +growing happy susceptibilities. It was, perhaps, just as well to have +her mind reverted to realistic fact. The presence of Haze Ruff, the +astounding truth of the contact with his huge sheep-defiled hands, had +been profanation and degradation under which she sickened with fear and +shame. Yet hovering back of her shame and rising anger seemed to be a +pale, monstrous, and indefinable thought, insistent and accusing, with +which she must sooner or later reckon. It might have been the voice of +the new side of her nature, but at that moment of outraged womanhood, +and of revolt against the West, she would not listen. It might, too, +have been the still small voice of conscience. But decision of mind and +energy coming to her then, she threw off the burden of emotion and +perplexity, and forced herself into composure before the arrival of +Glenn. + +The dust had ceased to blow, although the wind had by no means died +away. Sunset marked the west in old rose and gold, a vast flare. Carley +espied a horseman far down the road, and presently recognized both +rider and steed. He was coming fast. She went out and, mounting her +mustang, she rode out to meet Glenn. It did not appeal to her to wait +for him at the cabin; besides hoof tracks other than those made by her +mustang might have been noticed by Glenn. Presently he came up to her +and pulled his loping horse. + +“Hello! I sure was worried,” was his greeting, as his gloved hand went +out to her. “Did you run into that sandstorm?” + +“It ran into me, Glenn, and buried me,” she laughed. + +His fine eyes lingered on her face with glad and warm glance, and the +keen, apprehensive penetration of a lover. + +“Well, under all that dust you look scared,” he said. + +“Scared! I was worse than that. When I first ran into the flying dirt I +was only afraid I’d lose my way—and my complexion. But when the worst +of the storm hit me—then I feared I’d lose my breath.” + +“Did you face that sand and ride through it all?” he queried. + +“No, not all. But enough. I went through the worst of it before I +reached the cabin,” she replied. + +“Wasn’t it great?” + +“Yes—great bother and annoyance,” she said, laconically. + +Whereupon he reached with long, arm and wrapped it round her as they +rocked side by side. Demonstrations of this nature were infrequent with +Glenn. Despite losing one foot out of a stirrup and her seat in the +saddle Carley rather encouraged it. He kissed her dusty face, and then +set her back. + +“By George! Carley, sometimes I think you’ve changed since you’ve been +here,” he said, with warmth. “To go through that sandstorm without one +kick—one knock at my West!” + +“Glenn, I always think of what Flo says—the worst is yet to come,” +replied Carley, trying to hide her unreasonable and tumultuous pleasure +at words of praise from him. + +“Carley Burch, you don’t know yourself,” he declared, enigmatically. + +“What woman knows herself? But do you know me?” + +“Not I. Yet sometimes I see depths in you—wonderful +possibilities—submerged under your poise—under your fixed, complacent +idle attitude toward life.” + +This seemed for Carley to be dangerously skating near thin ice, but she +could not resist a retort: + +“Depths in me? Why I am a shallow, transparent stream like your West +Fork! ... And as for possibilities—may I ask what of them you imagine +you see?” + +“As a girl, before you were claimed by the world, you were earnest at +heart. You had big hopes and dreams. And you had intellect, too. But +you have wasted your talents, Carley. Having money, and spending it, +living for pleasure, you have not realized your powers.... Now, don’t +look hurt. I’m not censuring you. It’s just the way of modern life. And +most of your friends have been more careless, thoughtless, useless than +you. The aim of their existence is to be comfortable, free from work, +worry, pain. They want pleasure, luxury. And what a pity it is! The +best of you girls regard marriage as an escape, instead of +responsibility. You don’t marry to get your shoulders square against +the old wheel of American progress—to help some man make good—to bring +a troop of healthy American kids into the world. You bare your +shoulders to the gaze of the multitude and like it best if you are +strung with pearls.” + +“Glenn, you distress me when you talk like this,” replied Carley, +soberly. “You did not use to talk so. It seems to me you are bitter +against women.” + +“Oh no, Carley! I am only sad,” he said. “I only see where once I was +blind. American women are the finest on earth, but as a race, if they +don’t change, they’re doomed to extinction.” + +“How can you say such things?” demanded Carley, with spirit. + +“I say them because they are true. Carley, on the level now, tell me +how many of your immediate friends have children.” + +Put to a test, Carley rapidly went over in mind her circle of friends, +with the result that she was somewhat shocked and amazed to realize how +few of them were even married, and how the babies of her acquaintance +were limited to three. It was not easy to admit this to Glenn. + +“My dear,” replied he, “if that does not show you the handwriting on +the wall, nothing ever will.” + +“A girl has to find a husband, doesn’t she?” asked Carley, roused to +defense of her sex. “And if she’s anybody she has to find one in her +set. Well, husbands are not plentiful. Marriage certainly is not the +end of existence these days. We have to get along somehow. The high +cost of living is no inconsderable factor today. Do you know that most +of the better-class apartment houses in New York will not take +children? Women are not all to blame. Take the speed mania. Men must +have automobiles. I know one girl who wanted a baby, but her husband +wanted a car. They couldn’t afford both.” + +“Carley, I’m not blaming women more than men,” returned Glenn. “I don’t +know that I blame them as a class. But in my own mind I have worked it +all out. Every man or woman who is genuinely American should read the +signs of the times, realize the crisis, and meet it in an American way. +Otherwise we are done as a race. Money is God in the older countries. +But it should never become God in America. If it does we will make the +fall of Rome pale into insignificance.” + +“Glenn, let’s put off the argument,” appealed Carley. “I’m not—just up +to fighting you today. Oh—you needn’t smile. I’m not showing a yellow +streak, as Flo puts it. I’ll fight you some other time.” + +“You’re right, Carley,” he assented. “Here we are loafing six or seven +miles from home. Let’s rustle along.” + +Riding fast with Glenn was something Carley had only of late added to +her achievements. She had greatest pride in it. So she urged her +mustang to keep pace with Glenn’s horse and gave herself up to the +thrill of the motion and feel of wind and sense of flying along. At a +good swinging lope Calico covered ground swiftly and did not tire. +Carley rode the two miles to the rim of the canyon, keeping alongside +of Glenn all the way. Indeed, for one long level stretch she and Glenn +held hands. When they arrived at the descent, which necessitated slow +and careful riding, she was hot and tingling and breathless, worked by +the action into an exuberance of pleasure. Glenn complimented her +riding as well as her rosy cheeks. There was indeed a sweetness in +working at a task as she had worked to learn to ride in Western +fashion. Every turn of her mind seemed to confront her with sobering +antitheses of thought. Why had she come to love to ride down a lonely +desert road, through ragged cedars where the wind whipped her face with +fragrant wild breath, if at the same time she hated the West? Could she +hate a country, however barren and rough, if it had saved the health +and happiness of her future husband? Verily there were problems for +Carley to solve. + +Early twilight purple lay low in the hollows and clefts of the canyon. +Over the western rim a pale ghost of the evening star seemed to smile +at Carley, to bid her look and look. Like a strain of distant music, +the dreamy hum of falling water, the murmur and melody of the stream, +came again to Carley’s sensitive ear. + +“Do you love this?” asked Glenn, when they reached the green-forested +canyon floor, with the yellow road winding away into the purple +shadows. + +“Yes, both the ride—and you,” flashed Carley, contrarily. She knew he +had meant the deep-walled canyon with its brooding solitude. + +“But I want you to love Arizona,” he said. + +“Glenn, I’m a faithful creature. You should be glad of that. I love New +York.” + +“Very well, then. Arizona to New York,” he said, lightly brushing her +cheek with his lips. And swerving back into his saddle, he spurred his +horse and called back over his shoulder: “That mustang and Flo have +beaten me many a time. Come on.” + +It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley. +Had he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity? Always there +was a little rift in the lute. Had his tone and look meant that Flo +might catch him if Carley could not? Absurd as the idea was, it spurred +her to recklessness. Her mustang did not need any more than to know she +wanted him to run. The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green +foliage and overspread by pines. In a moment she was racing at a speed +she had never before half attained on a horse. Down the winding road +Glenn’s big steed sped, his head low, his stride tremendous, his action +beautiful. But Carley saw the distance between them diminishing. Calico +was overtaking the bay. She cried out in the thrilling excitement of +the moment. Glenn saw her gaining and pressed his mount to greater +speed. Still he could not draw away from Calico. Slowly the little +mustang gained. It seemed to Carley that riding him required no effort +at all. And at such fast pace, with the wind roaring in her ears, the +walls of green vague and continuous in her sight, the sting of pine +tips on cheek and neck, the yellow road streaming toward her, under +her, there rose out of the depths of her, out of the tumult of her +breast, a sense of glorious exultation. She closed in on Glenn. From +the flying hoofs of his horse shot up showers of damp sand and gravel +that covered Carley’s riding habit and spattered in her face. She had +to hold up a hand before her eyes. Perhaps this caused her to lose +something of her confidence, or her swing in the saddle, for suddenly +she realized she was not riding well. The pace was too fast for her +inexperience. But nothing could have stopped her then. No fear or +awkwardness of hers should be allowed to hamper that thoroughbred +mustang. Carley felt that Calico understood the situation; or at least +he knew he could catch and pass this big bay horse, and he intended to +do it. Carley was hard put to it to hang on and keep the flying sand +from blinding her. + +When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to +breast with Glenn, and then inch by inch forged ahead of him, Carley +pealed out an exultant cry. Either it frightened Calico or inspired +him, for he shot right ahead of Glenn’s horse. Then he lost the smooth, +wonderful action. He seemed hurtling through space at the expense of +tremendous muscular action. Carley could feel it. She lost her +equilibrium. She seemed rushing through a blurred green and black aisle +of the forest with a gale in her face. Then, with a sharp jolt, a +break, Calico plunged to the sand. Carley felt herself propelled +forward out of the saddle into the air, and down to strike with a +sliding, stunning force that ended in sudden dark oblivion. + +Upon recovering consciousness she first felt a sensation of oppression +in her chest and a dull numbness of her whole body. When she opened her +eyes she saw Glenn bending over her, holding her head on his knee. A +wet, cold, reviving sensation evidently came from the handkerchief with +which he was mopping her face. + +“Carley, you can’t be hurt—really!” he was ejaculating, in eager hope. +“It was some spill. But you lit on the sand and slid. You can’t be +hurt.” + +The look of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the feel of his hands were +such that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly hurt +indeed. It was worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn +Kilbourne. But she believed she had suffered no more than a severe +bruising and scraping. + +“Glenn—dear,” she whispered, very low and very eloquently. “I think—my +back—is broken.... You’ll be free—soon.” + +Glenn gave a terrible start and his face turned a deathly white. He +burst out with quavering, inarticulate speech. + +Carley gazed up at him and then closed her eyes. She could not look at +him while carrying on such deceit. Yet the sight of him and the feel of +him then were inexpressibly blissful to her. What she needed most was +assurance of his love. She had it. Beyond doubt, beyond morbid fancy, +the truth had proclaimed itself, filling her heart with joy. + +Suddenly she flung her arms up around his neck. “Oh—Glenn! It was too +good a chance to miss!... I’m not hurt a bit.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The day came when Carley asked Mrs. Hutter: “Will you please put up a +nice lunch for Glenn and me? I’m going to walk down to his farm where +he’s working, and surprise him.” + +“That’s a downright fine idea,” declared Mrs. Hutter, and forthwith +bustled away to comply with Carley’s request. + +So presently Carley found herself carrying a bountiful basket on her +arm, faring forth on an adventure that both thrilled and depressed her. +Long before this hour something about Glenn’s work had quickened her +pulse and given rise to an inexplicable admiration. That he was big and +strong enough to do such labor made her proud; that he might want to go +on doing it made her ponder and brood. + +The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June, when the +air appeared flooded by rich thick amber light. Only the sun here was +hotter and the shade cooler. + +Carley took to the trail below where West Fork emptied its golden-green +waters into Oak Creek. The red walls seemed to dream and wait under the +blaze of the sun; the heat lay like a blanket over the still foliage; +the birds were quiet; only the murmuring stream broke the silence of +the canyon. Never had Carley felt more the isolation and solitude of +Oak Creek Canyon. Far indeed from the madding crowd! Only Carley’s +stubbornness kept her from acknowledging the sense of peace that +enveloped her—that and the consciousness of her own discontent. What +would it be like to come to this canyon—to give up to its enchantments? +That, like many another disturbing thought, had to go unanswered, to be +driven into the closed chambers of Carley’s mind, there to germinate +subconsciously, and stalk forth some day to overwhelm her. + +The trail led along the creek, threading a maze of bowlders, passing +into the shade of cottonwoods, and crossing sun-flecked patches of +sand. Carley’s every step seemed to become slower. Regrets were +assailing her. Long indeed had she overstayed her visit to the West. +She must not linger there indefinitely. And mingled with misgiving was +a surprise that she had not tired of Oak Creek. In spite of all, and of +the dislike she vaunted to herself, the truth stared at her—she was not +tired. + +The long-delayed visit to see Glenn working on his own farm must result +in her talking to him about his work; and in a way not quite clear she +regretted the necessity for it. To disapprove of Glenn! She received +faint intimations of wavering, of uncertainty, of vague doubt. But +these were cried down by the dominant and habitable voice of her +personality. + +Presently through the shaded and shadowed breadth of the belt of forest +she saw gleams of a sunlit clearing. And crossing this space to the +border of trees she peered forth, hoping to espy Glenn at his labors. +She saw an old shack, and irregular lines of rude fence built of poles +of all sizes and shapes, and several plots of bare yellow ground, +leading up toward the west side of the canyon wall. Could this clearing +be Glenn’s farm? Surely she had missed it or had not gone far enough. +This was not a farm, but a slash in the forested level of the canyon +floor, bare and somehow hideous. Dead trees were standing in the lots. +They had been ringed deeply at the base by an ax, to kill them, and so +prevent their foliage from shading the soil. Carley saw a long pile of +rocks that evidently had been carried from the plowed ground. There was +no neatness, no regularity, although there was abundant evidence of +toil. To clear that rugged space, to fence it, and plow it, appeared at +once to Carley an extremely strenuous and useless task. Carley +persuaded herself that this must be the plot of ground belonging to the +herder Charley, and she was about to turn on down the creek when far up +under the bluff she espied a man. He was stalking along and bending +down, stalking along and bending down. She recognized Glenn. He was +planting something in the yellow soil. + +Curiously Carley watched him, and did not allow her mind to become +concerned with a somewhat painful swell of her heart. What a stride he +had! How vigorous he looked, and earnest! He was as intent upon this +job as if he had been a rustic. He might have been failing to do it +well, but he most certainly was doing it conscientiously. Once he had +said to her that a man should never be judged by the result of his +labors, but by the nature of his effort. A man might strive with all +his heart and strength, yet fail. Carley watched him striding along and +bending down, absorbed in his task, unmindful of the glaring hot sun, +and somehow to her singularly detached from the life wherein he had +once moved and to which she yearned to take him back. Suddenly an +unaccountable flashing query assailed her conscience: How dare she want +to take him back? She seemed as shocked as if some stranger had +accosted her. What was this dimming of her eye, this inward +tremulousness; this dammed tide beating at an unknown and riveted gate +of her intelligence? She felt more then than she dared to face. She +struggled against something in herself. The old habit of mind +instinctively resisted the new, the strange. But she did not come off +wholly victorious. The Carley Burch whom she recognized as of old, +passionately hated this life and work of Glenn Kilbourne’s, but the +rebel self, an unaccountable and defiant Carley, loved him all the +better for them. + +Carley drew a long deep breath before she called Glenn. This meeting +would be momentous and she felt no absolute surety of herself. + +Manifestly he was surprised to hear her call, and, dropping his sack +and implement, he hurried across the tilled ground, sending up puffs of +dust. He vaulted the rude fence of poles, and upon sight of her called +out lustily. How big and virile he looked! Yet he was gaunt and +strained. It struck Carley that he had not looked so upon her arrival +at Oak Creek. Had she worried him? The query gave her a pang. + +“Sir Tiller of the Fields,” said Carley, gayly, “see, your dinner! _I_ +brought it and _I_ am going to share it.” + +“You old darling!” he replied, and gave her an embrace that left her +cheek moist with the sweat of his. He smelled of dust and earth and his +body was hot. “I wish to God it could be true for always!” + +His loving, bearish onslaught and his words quite silenced Carley. How +at critical moments he always said the thing that hurt her or inhibited +her! She essayed a smile as she drew back from him. + +“It’s sure good of you,” he said, taking the basket. “I was thinking +I’d be through work sooner today, and was sorry I had not made a date +with you. Come, we’ll find a place to sit.” + +Whereupon he led her back under the trees to a half-sunny, half-shady +bench of rock overhanging the stream. Great pines overshadowed a still, +eddying pool. A number of brown butterflies hovered over the water, and +small trout floated like spotted feathers just under the surface. +Drowsy summer enfolded the sylvan scene. + +Glenn knelt at the edge of the brook, and, plunging his hands in, he +splashed like a huge dog and bathed his hot face and head, and then +turned to Carley with gay words and laughter, while he wiped himself +dry with a large red scarf. Carley was not proof against the virility +of him then, and at the moment, no matter what it was that had made him +the man he looked, she loved it. + +“I’ll sit in the sun,” he said, designating a place. “When you’re hot +you mustn’t rest in the shade, unless you’ve coat or sweater. But you +sit here in the shade.” + +“Glenn, that’ll put us too far apart,” complained Carley. “I’ll sit in +the sun with you.” + +The delightful simplicity and happiness of the ensuing hour was +something Carley believed she would never forget. + +“There! we’ve licked the platter clean,” she said. “What starved bears +we were!.... I wonder if I shall enjoy eating—when I get home. I used +to be so finnicky and picky.” + +“Carley, don’t talk about home,” said Glenn, appealingly. + +“You dear old farmer, I’d love to stay here and just dream—forever,” +replied Carley, earnestly. “But I came on purpose to talk seriously.” + +“Oh, you did! About what?” he returned, with some quick, indefinable +change of tone and expression. + +“Well, first about your work. I know I hurt your feelings when I +wouldn’t listen. But I wasn’t ready. I wanted to—to just be gay with +you for a while. Don’t think I wasn’t interested. I was. And now, I’m +ready to hear all about it—and everything.” + +She smiled at him bravely, and she knew that unless some unforeseen +shock upset her composure, she would be able to conceal from him +anything which might hurt his feelings. + +“You do look serious,” he said, with keen eyes on her. + +“Just what are your business relations with Hutter?” she inquired. + +“I’m simply working for him,” replied Glenn. “My aim is to get an +interest in his sheep, and I expect to, some day. We have some plans. +And one of them is the development of that Deep Lake section. You +remember—you were with us. The day Spillbeans spilled you?” + +“Yes, I remember. It was a pretty place,” she replied. + +Carley did not tell him that for a month past she had owned the Deep +Lake section of six hundred and forty acres. She had, in fact, +instructed Hutter to purchase it, and to keep the transaction a secret +for the present. Carley had never been able to understand the impulse +that prompted her to do it. But as Hutter had assured her it was a +remarkably good investment on very little capital, she had tried to +persuade herself of its advantages. Back of it all had been an +irresistible desire to be able some day to present to Glenn this ranch +site he loved. She had concluded he would never wholly dissociate +himself from this West; and as he would visit it now and then, she had +already begun forming plans of her own. She could stand a month in +Arizona at long intervals. + +“Hutter and I will go into cattle raising some day,” went on Glenn. +“And that Deep Lake place is what I want for myself.” + +“What work are you doing for Hutter?” asked Carley. + +“Anything from building fence to cutting timber,” laughed Glenn. “I’ve +not yet the experience to be a foreman like Lee Stanton. Besides, I +have a little business all my own. I put all my money in that.” + +“You mean here—this—this farm?” + +“Yes. And the stock I’m raisin’. You see I have to feed corn. And +believe me, Carley, those cornfields represent some job.” + +“I can well believe that,” replied Carley. “You—you looked it.” + +“Oh, the hard work is over. All I have to do now it to plant and keep +the weeds out.” + +“Glenn, do sheep eat corn?” + +“I plant corn to feed my hogs.” + +“Hogs?” she echoed, vaguely. + +“Yes, hogs,” he said, with quiet gravity. “The first day you visited my +cabin I told you I raised hogs, and I fried my own ham for your +dinner.” + +“Is that what you—put your money in?” + +“Yes. And Hutter says I’ve done well.” + +“_Hogs!_” ejaculated Carley, aghast. + +“My dear, are you growin’ dull of comprehension?” retorted Glenn. +“H-o-g-s.” He spelled the word out. “I’m in the hog-raising business, +and pretty blamed well pleased over my success so far.” + +Carley caught herself in time to quell outwardly a shock of amaze and +revulsion. She laughed, and exclaimed against her stupidity. The look +of Glenn was no less astounding than the content of his words. He was +actually proud of his work. Moreover, he showed not the least sign that +he had any idea such information might be startlingly obnoxious to his +fiancée. + +“Glenn! It’s so—so queer,” she ejaculated. “That you—Glenn +Kilbourne-should ever go in for—for hogs!... It’s unbelievable. How’d +you ever—ever happen to do it?” + +“By Heaven! you’re hard on me!” he burst out, in sudden dark, fierce +passion. “How’d I ever happen to do it?... _What_ was there left for +me? I gave my soul and heart and body to the government—to fight for my +country. I came home a wreck. _What_ did my government do for me? +_What_ did my employers do for me? _What_ did the people I fought for +do for me?... Nothing—so help me God—_nothing!_... I got a ribbon and a +bouquet—a little applause for an hour—and then the sight of me sickened +my countrymen. I was broken and used. I was absolutely forgotten.... +But my body, my life, my soul meant _all_ to me. My future was ruined, +but I wanted to live. I had killed men who never harmed me—I was not +fit to die.... I _tried_ to live. So I fought out my battle alone. +Alone!... No one understood. No one cared. I came West to keep from +dying of consumption in sight of the indifferent mob for whom I had +sacrificed myself. I chose to die on my feet away off alone +somewhere.... But I got well. And what _made_ me well—and _saved_ my +soul—was the first work that offered. _Raising and tending hogs!_” + +The dead whiteness of Glenn’s face, the lightning scorn of his eyes, +the grim, stark strangeness of him then had for Carley a terrible +harmony with this passionate denunciation of her, of her kind, of the +America for whom he had lost all. + +“Oh, Glenn!—forgive—me!” she faltered. “I was only—talking. What do I +know? Oh, I am blind—blind and little!” + +She could not bear to face him for a moment, and she hung her head. Her +intelligence seemed concentrating swift, wild thoughts round the shock +to her consciousness. By that terrible expression of his face, by those +thundering words of scorn, would she come to realize the mighty truth +of his descent into the abyss and his rise to the heights. Vaguely she +began to see. An awful sense of her deadness, of her soul-blighting +selfishness, began to dawn upon her as something monstrous out of dim, +gray obscurity. She trembled under the reality of thoughts that were +not new. How she had babbled about Glenn and the crippled soldiers! How +she had imagined she sympathized! But she had only been a vain, +worldly, complacent, effusive little fool. She had here the shock of +her life, and she sensed a greater one, impossible to grasp. + +“Carley, that was coming to you,” said Glenn, presently, with deep, +heavy expulsion of breath. + +“I only know I love you—more—more,” she cried, wildly, looking up and +wanting desperately to throw herself in his arms. + +“I guess you do—a little,” he replied. “Sometimes I feel you are a kid. +Then again you represent the world—your world with its age-old +custom—its unalterable.... But, Carley, let’s get back to my work.” + +“Yes—yes,” exclaimed Carley, gladly. “I’m ready to—to go pet your +hogs—anything.” + +“By George! I’ll take you up,” he declared. “I’ll bet you won’t go near +one of my hogpens.” + +“Lead me to it!” she replied, with a hilarity that was only a nervous +reversion of her state. + +“Well, maybe I’d better hedge on the bet,” he said, laughing again. +“You have more in you than I suspect. You sure fooled me when you stood +for the sheep-dip. But, come on, I’ll take you anyway.” + +So that was how Carley found herself walking arm in arm with Glenn down +the canyon trail. A few moments of action gave her at least an +appearance of outward composure. And the state of her emotion was so +strained and intense that her slightest show of interest must deceive +Glenn into thinking her eager, responsive, enthusiastic. It certainly +appeared to loosen his tongue. But Carley knew she was farther from +normal than ever before in her life, and that the subtle, inscrutable +woman’s intuition of her presaged another shock. Just as she had seemed +to change, so had the aspects of the canyon undergone some illusive +transformation. The beauty of green foliage and amber stream and brown +tree trunks and gray rocks and red walls was there; and the summer +drowsiness and languor lay as deep; and the loneliness and solitude +brooded with its same eternal significance. But some nameless +enchantment, perhaps of hope, seemed no longer to encompass her. A blow +had fallen upon her, the nature of which only time could divulge. + +Glenn led her around the clearing and up to the base of the west wall, +where against a shelving portion of the cliff had been constructed a +rude fence of poles. It formed three sides of a pen, and the fourth +side was solid rock. A bushy cedar tree stood in the center. Water +flowed from under the cliff, which accounted for the boggy condition of +the red earth. This pen was occupied by a huge sow and a litter of +pigs. + +Carley climbed on the fence and sat there while Glenn leaned over the +top pole and began to wax eloquent on a subject evidently dear to his +heart. Today of all days Carley made an inspiring listener. Even the +shiny, muddy, suspicious old sow in no wise daunted her fictitious +courage. That filthy pen of mud a foot deep, and of odor rancid, had no +terrors for her. With an arm round Glenn’s shoulder she watched the +rooting and squealing little pigs, and was amused and interested, as if +they were far removed from the vital issue of the hour. But all the +time as she looked and laughed, and encouraged Glenn to talk, there +seemed to be a strange, solemn, oppressive knocking at her heart. Was +it only the beat-beat-beat of blood? + +“There were twelve pigs in that litter,” Glenn was saying, “and now you +see there are only nine. I’ve lost three. Mountain lions, bears, +coyotes, wild cats are all likely to steal a pig. And at first I was +sure one of these varmints had been robbing me. But as I could not find +any tracks, I knew I had to lay the blame on something else. So I kept +watch pretty closely in daytime, and at night I shut the pigs up in the +corner there, where you see I’ve built a pen. Yesterday I heard +squealing—and, by George! I saw an eagle flying off with one of my +pigs. Say, I was mad. A great old bald-headed eagle—the regal bird you +see with America’s stars and stripes had degraded himself to the level +of a coyote. I ran for my rifle, and I took some quick shots at him as +he flew up. Tried to hit him, too, but I failed. And the old rascal +hung on to my pig. I watched him carry it to that sharp crag way up +there on the rim.” + +“Poor little piggy!” exclaimed Carley. “To think of our American +emblem—our stately bird of noble warlike mien—our symbol of lonely +grandeur and freedom of the heights—think of him being a robber of +pigpens!—Glenn, I begin to appreciate the many-sidedness of things. +Even my hide-bound narrowness is susceptible to change. It’s never too +late to learn. This should apply to the Society for the Preservation of +the American Eagle.” + +Glenn led her along the base of the wall to three other pens, in each +of which was a fat old sow with a litter. And at the last enclosure, +that owing to dry soil was not so dirty, Glenn picked up a little pig +and held it squealing out to Carley as she leaned over the fence. It +was fairly white and clean, a little pink and fuzzy, and certainly cute +with its curled tall. + +“Carley Burch, take it in your hands,” commanded Glenn. + +The feat seemed monstrous and impossible of accomplishment for Carley. +Yet such was her temper at the moment that she would have undertaken +anything. + +“Why, shore I will, as Flo says,” replied Carley, extending her +ungloved hands. “Come here, piggy. I christen you Pinky.” And hiding an +almost insupportable squeamishness from Glenn, she took the pig in her +hands and fondled it. + +“By George!” exclaimed Glenn, in huge delight. “I wouldn’t have +believed it. Carley, I hope you tell your fastidious and immaculate +Morrison that you held one of my pigs in your beautiful hands.” + +“Wouldn’t it please you more to tell him yourself?” asked Carley. + +“Yes, it would,” declared Glenn, grimly. + +This incident inspired Glenn to a Homeric narration of his hog-raising +experience. In spite of herself the content of his talk interested her. +And as for the effect upon her of his singular enthusiasm, it was deep +and compelling. The little-boned Berkshire razorback hogs grew so large +and fat and heavy that their bones broke under their weight. The Duroc +jerseys were the best breed in that latitude, owing to their larger and +stronger bones, that enabled them to stand up under the greatest +accumulation of fat. + +Glenn told of his droves of pigs running wild in the canyon below. In +summertime they fed upon vegetation, and at other seasons on acorns, +roots, bugs, and grubs. Acorns, particularly, were good and fattening +feed. They ate cedar and juniper berries, and pinyon nuts. And +therefore they lived off the land, at little or no expense to the +owner. The only loss was from beasts and birds of prey. Glenn showed +Carley how a profitable business could soon be established. He meant to +fence off side canyons and to segregate droves of his hogs, and to +raise abundance of corn for winter feed. At that time there was a +splendid market for hogs, a condition Hutter claimed would continue +indefinitely in a growing country. In conclusion Glenn eloquently told +how in his necessity he had accepted gratefully the humblest of labors, +to find in the hard pursuit of it a rejuvenation of body and mind, and +a promise of independence and prosperity. + +When he had finished, and excused himself to go repair a weak place in +the corral fence, Carley sat silent, wrapped in strange meditation. + +Whither had faded the vulgarity and ignominy she had attached to +Glenn’s raising of hogs? Gone—like other miasmas of her narrow mind! +Partly she understood him now. She shirked consideration of his +sacrifice to his country. That must wait. But she thought of his work, +and the more she thought the less she wondered. + +First he had labored with his hands. What infinite meaning lay +unfolding to her vision! Somewhere out of it all came the conception +that man was intended to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. But +there was more to it than that. By that toil and sweat, by the friction +of horny palms, by the expansion and contraction of muscle, by the +acceleration of blood, something great and enduring, something physical +and spiritual, came to a man. She understood then why she would have +wanted to surrender herself to a man made manly by toil; she understood +how a woman instinctively leaned toward the protection of a man who had +used his hands—who had strength and red blood and virility who could +fight like the progenitors of the race. Any toil was splendid that +served this end for any man. It all went back to the survival of the +fittest. And suddenly Carley thought of Morrison. He could dance and +dangle attendance upon her, and amuse her—but how would he have +acquitted himself in a moment of peril? She had her doubts. Most +assuredly he could not have beaten down for her a ruffian like Haze +Ruff. What then should be the significance of a man for a woman? + +Carley’s querying and answering mind reverted to Glenn. He had found a +secret in this seeking for something through the labor of hands. All +development of body must come through exercise of muscles. The virility +of cell in tissue and bone depended upon that. Thus he had found in +toil the pleasure and reward athletes had in their desultory training. +But when a man learned this secret the need of work must become +permanent. Did this explain the law of the Persians that every man was +required to sweat every day? + +Carley tried to picture to herself Glenn’s attitude of mind when he had +first gone to work here in the West. Resolutely she now denied her +shrinking, cowardly sensitiveness. She would go to the root of this +matter, if she had intelligence enough. Crippled, ruined in health, +wrecked and broken by an inexplicable war, soul-blighted by the +heartless, callous neglect of government and public, on the verge of +madness at the insupportable facts, he had yet been wonderful enough, +true enough to himself and God, to fight for life with the instinct of +a man, to fight for his mind with a noble and unquenchable faith. Alone +indeed he had been alone! And by some miracle beyond the power of +understanding he had found day by day in his painful efforts some hope +and strength to go on. He could not have had any illusions. For Glenn +Kilbourne the health and happiness and success most men held so dear +must have seemed impossible. His slow, daily, tragic, and terrible task +must have been something he owed himself. Not for Carley Burch! She +like all the others had failed him. How Carley shuddered in confession +of that! Not for the country which had used him and cast him off! +Carley divined now, as if by a flash of lightning, the meaning of +Glenn’s strange, cold, scornful, and aloof manner when he had +encountered young men of his station, as capable and as strong as he, +who had escaped the service of the army. For him these men did not +exist. They were less than nothing. They had waxed fat on lucrative +jobs; they had basked in the presence of girls whose brothers and +lovers were in the trenches or on the turbulent sea, exposed to the +ceaseless dread and almost ceaseless toil of war. If Glenn’s spirit had +lifted him to endurance of war for the sake of others, how then could +it fail him in a precious duty of fidelity to himself? Carley could see +him day by day toiling in his lonely canyon—plodding to his lonely +cabin. He had been playing the game—fighting it out alone as surely he +knew his brothers of like misfortune were fighting. + +So Glenn Kilbourne loomed heroically in Carley’s transfigured sight. He +was one of Carlyle’s battle-scarred warriors. Out of his travail he had +climbed on stepping-stones of his dead self. _Resurgam!_ That had been +his unquenchable cry. Who had heard it? Only the solitude of his lonely +canyon, only the waiting, dreaming, watching walls, only the silent +midnight shadows, only the white, blinking, passionless stars, only the +wild creatures of his haunts, only the moaning wind in the pines—only +these had been with him in his agony. How near were these things to +God? + +Carley’s heart seemed full to bursting. Not another single moment could +her mounting love abide in a heart that held a double purpose. How +bitter the assurance that she had not come West to help him! It was +self, self, all self that had actuated her. Unworthy indeed was she of +the love of this man. Only a lifetime of devotion to him could acquit +her in the eyes of her better self. Sweetly and madly raced the thrill +and tumult of her blood. There must be only one outcome to her romance. +Yet the next instant there came a dull throbbing—an oppression which +was pain—an impondering vague thought of catastrophe. Only the +fearfulness of love perhaps! + +She saw him complete his task and wipe his brown moist face and stride +toward her, coming nearer, tall and erect with something added to his +soldierly bearing, with a light in his eyes she could no longer bear. + +The moment for which she had waited more than two months had come at +last. + +“Glenn—when will you go back East?” she asked, tensely and low. + +The instant the words were spent upon her lips she realized that he had +always been waiting and prepared for this question that had been so +terrible for her to ask. + +“Carley,” he replied gently, though his voice rang, “I am never going +back East.” + +An inward quivering hindered her articulation. + +“_Never?_” she whispered. + +“Never to live, or stay any while,” he went on. “I might go some time +for a little visit.... But never to live.” + +“Oh—Glenn!” she gasped, and her hands fluttered out to him. The shock +was driving home. No amaze, no incredulity succeeded her reception of +the fact. It was a slow stab. Carley felt the cold blanch of her skin. +“Then—this is it—the something I felt strange between us?” + +“Yes, I knew—and you never asked me,” he replied. + +“That was it? All the time you knew,” she whispered, huskily. “You +knew. ... _I’d never—marry you—never live out here?_” + +“Yes, Carley, I knew you’d never be woman enough—_American enough_—to +help me reconstruct my broken life out here in the West,” he replied, +with a sad and bitter smile. + +That flayed her. An insupportable shame and wounded vanity and +clamoring love contended for dominance of her emotions. Love beat down +all else. + +“Dearest—I beg of you—don’t break my heart,” she implored. + +“I love you, Carley,” he answered, steadily, with piercing eyes on +hers. + +“Then come back—home—home with me.” + +“No. If you love me you will be my wife.” + +“Love you! Glenn, I worship you,” she broke out, passionately. “But I +could not live here—_I could not_.” + +“Carley, did you ever read of the woman who said, ‘Whither thou goest, +there will I go’...” + +“Oh, don’t be ruthless! Don’t judge me.... I never dreamed of this. I +came West to take you back.” + +“My dear, it was a mistake,” he said, gently, softening to her +distress. “I’m sorry I did not write you more plainly. But, Carley, I +could not ask you to share this—this wilderness home with me. I don’t +ask it now. I always knew you couldn’t do it. Yet you’ve changed +so—that I hoped against hope. Love makes us blind even to what we see.” + +“Don’t try to spare me. I’m slight and miserable. I stand abased in my +own eyes. I thought I loved you. But I must love best the +crowd—people—luxury—fashion—the damned round of things I was born to.” + +“Carley, you will realize their insufficiency too late,” he replied, +earnestly. “The things you were born to are love, work, children, +happiness.” + +“Don’t! don’t!... they are hollow mockery for me,” she cried, +passionately. “Glenn, it is the end. It must come—quickly.... You are +free.” + +“I do not ask to be free. Wait. Go home and look at it again with +different eyes. Think things over. Remember what came to me out of the +West. I will always love you—and I will be here—hoping—” + +“I—I cannot listen,” she returned, brokenly, and she clenched her hands +tightly to keep from wringing them. “I—I cannot face you.... Here +is—your ring.... You—are—free.... Don’t stop me—don’t come.... Oh, +Glenn, good-by!” + +With breaking heart she whirled away from him and hurried down the +slope toward the trail. The shade of the forest enveloped her. Peering +back through the trees, she saw Glenn standing where she had left him, +as if already stricken by the loneliness that must be his lot. A sob +broke from Carley’s throat. She hated herself. She was in a terrible +state of conflict. Decision had been wrenched from her, but she sensed +unending strife. She dared not look back again. Stumbling and +breathless, she hurried on. How changed the atmosphere and sunlight and +shadow of the canyon! The looming walls had pitiless eyes for her +flight. When she crossed the mouth of West Fork an almost irresistible +force breathed to her from under the stately pines. + +An hour later she had bidden farewell to the weeping Mrs. Hutter, and +to the white-faced Flo, and Lolomi Lodge, and the murmuring waterfall, +and the haunting loneliness of Oak Creek Canyon. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +At Flagstaff, where Carley arrived a few minutes before train time, she +was too busily engaged with tickets and baggage to think of herself or +of the significance of leaving Arizona. But as she walked into the +Pullman she overheard a passenger remark, “Regular old Arizona sunset,” +and that shook her heart. Suddenly she realized she had come to love +the colorful sunsets, to watch and wait for them. And bitterly she +thought how that was her way to learn the value of something when it +was gone. + +The jerk and start of the train affected her with singular depressing +shock. She had burned her last bridge behind her. Had she unconsciously +hoped for some incredible reversion of Glenn’s mind or of her own? A +sense of irreparable loss flooded over her—the first check to shame and +humiliation. + +From her window she looked out to the southwest. Somewhere across the +cedar and pine-greened uplands lay Oak Creek Canyon, going to sleep in +its purple and gold shadows of sunset. Banks of broken clouds hung to +the horizon, like continents and islands and reefs set in a turquoise +sea. Shafts of sunlight streaked down through creamy-edged and +purple-centered clouds. Vast flare of gold dominated the sunset +background. + +When the train rounded a curve Carley’s strained vision became filled +with the upheaved bulk of the San Francisco Mountains. Ragged gray +grass slopes and green forests on end, and black fringed sky lines, all +pointed to the sharp clear peaks spearing the sky. And as she watched, +the peaks slowly flushed with sunset hues, and the sky flared golden, +and the strength of the eternal mountains stood out in sculptured +sublimity. Every day for two months and more Carley had watched these +peaks, at all hours, in every mood; and they had unconsciously become a +part of her thought. The train was relentlessly whirling her eastward. +Soon they must become a memory. Tears blurred her sight. Poignant +regret seemed added to the anguish she was suffering. Why had she not +learned sooner to see the glory of the mountains, to appreciate the +beauty and solitude? Why had she not understood herself? + +The next day through New Mexico she followed magnificent ranges and +valleys—so different from the country she had seen coming West—so +supremely beautiful that she wondered if she had only acquired the +harvest of a seeing eye. + +But it was at sunset of the following day, when the train was speeding +down the continental slope of prairie land beyond the Rockies, that the +West took its ruthless revenge. + +Masses of strange cloud and singular light upon the green prairie, and +a luminosity in the sky, drew Carley to the platform of her car, which +was the last of the train. There she stood, gripping the iron gate, +feeling the wind whip her hair and the iron-tracked ground speed from +under her, spellbound and stricken at the sheer wonder and glory of the +firmament, and the mountain range that it canopied so exquisitely. + +A rich and mellow light, singularly clear, seemed to flood out of some +unknown source. For the sun was hidden. The clouds just above Carley +hung low, and they were like thick, heavy smoke, mushrooming, +coalescing, forming and massing, of strange yellow cast of nature. It +shaded westward into heliotrope and this into a purple so royal, so +matchless and rare that Carley understood why the purple of the heavens +could never be reproduced in paint. Here the cloud mass thinned and +paled, and a tint of rose began to flush the billowy, flowery, creamy +white. Then came the surpassing splendor of this cloud pageant—a vast +canopy of shell pink, a sun-fired surface like an opal sea, rippled and +webbed, with the exquisite texture of an Oriental fabric, pure, +delicate, lovely—as no work of human hands could be. It mirrored all +the warm, pearly tints of the inside whorl of the tropic nautilus. And +it ended abruptly, a rounded depth of bank, on a broad stream of clear +sky, intensely blue, transparently blue, as if through the lambent +depths shone the infinite firmament. The lower edge of this stream took +the golden lightning of the sunset and was notched for all its +horizon-long length by the wondrous white glistening-peaked range of +the Rockies. Far to the north, standing aloof from the range, loomed up +the grand black bulk and noble white dome of Pikes Peak. + +Carley watched the sunset transfiguration of cloud and sky and mountain +until all were cold and gray. And then she returned to her seat, +thoughtful and sad, feeling that the West had mockingly flung at her +one of its transient moments of loveliness. + +Nor had the West wholly finished with her. Next day the mellow gold of +the Kansas wheat fields, endless and boundless as a sunny sea, rich, +waving in the wind, stretched away before her aching eyes for hours and +hours. Here was the promise fulfilled, the bountiful harvest of the +land, the strength of the West. The great middle state had a heart of +gold. + +East of Chicago Carley began to feel that the long days and nights of +riding, the ceaseless turning of the wheels, the constant and wearing +stress of emotion, had removed her an immeasurable distance of miles +and time and feeling from the scene of her catastrophe. Many days +seemed to have passed. Many had been the hours of her bitter regret and +anguish. + +Indiana and Ohio, with their green pastoral farms, and numberless +villages, and thriving cities, denoted a country far removed and +different from the West, and an approach to the populous East. Carley +felt like a wanderer coming home. She was restlessly and impatiently +glad. But her weariness of body and mind, and the close atmosphere of +the car, rendered her extreme discomfort. Summer had laid its hot hand +on the low country east of the Mississippi. + +Carley had wired her aunt and two of her intimate friends to meet her +at the Grand Central Station. This reunion soon to come affected Carley +in recurrent emotions of relief, gladness, and shame. She did not sleep +well, and arose early, and when the train reached Albany she felt that +she could hardly endure the tedious hours. The majestic Hudson and the +palatial mansions on the wooded bluffs proclaimed to Carley that she +was back in the East. How long a time seemed to have passed! Either she +was not the same or the aspect of everything had changed. But she +believed that as soon as she got over the ordeal of meeting her +friends, and was home again, she would soon see things rationally. + +At last the train sheered away from the broad Hudson and entered the +environs of New York. Carley sat perfectly still, to all outward +appearances a calm, superbly-poised New York woman returning home, but +inwardly raging with contending tides. In her own sight she was a +disgraceful failure, a prodigal sneaking back to the ease and +protection of loyal friends who did not know her truly. Every familiar +landmark in the approach to the city gave her a thrill, yet a vague +unsatisfied something lingered after each sensation. + +Then the train with rush and roar crossed the Harlem River to enter New +York City. As one waking from a dream Carley saw the blocks and squares +of gray apartment houses and red buildings, the miles of roofs and +chimneys, the long hot glaring streets full of playing children and +cars. Then above the roar of the train sounded the high notes of a +hurdy-gurdy. Indeed she was home. Next to startle her was the dark +tunnel, and then the slowing of the train to a stop. As she walked +behind a porter up the long incline toward the station gate her legs +seemed to be dead. + +In the circle of expectant faces beyond the gate she saw her aunt’s, +eager and agitated, then the handsome pale face of Eleanor Harmon, and +beside her the sweet thin one of Beatrice Lovell. As they saw her how +quick the change from expectancy to joy! It seemed they all rushed upon +her, and embraced her, and exclaimed over her together. Carley never +recalled what she said. But her heart was full. + +“Oh, how perfectly stunning you look!” cried Eleanor, backing away from +Carley and gazing with glad, surprised eyes. + +“Carley!” gasped Beatrice. “You wonderful golden-skinned goddess!... +You’re _young_ again, like you were in our school days.” + +It was before Aunt Mary’s shrewd, penetrating, loving gaze that Carley +quailed. + +“Yes, Carley, you look well—better than I ever saw you, but—but—” + +“But I don’t look happy,” interrupted Carley. “I am happy to get +home—to see you all... But—my—my heart is broken!” + +A little shocked silence ensued, then Carley found herself being led +across the lower level and up the wide stairway. As she mounted to the +vast-domed cathedral-like chamber of the station a strange sensation +pierced her with a pang. Not the old thrill of leaving New York or +returning! Nor was it the welcome sight of the hurrying, well-dressed +throng of travelers and commuters, nor the stately beauty of the +station. Carley shut her eyes, and then she knew. The dim light of vast +space above, the looming gray walls, shadowy with tracery of figures, +the lofty dome like the blue sky, brought back to her the walls of Oak +Creek Canyon and the great caverns under the ramparts. As suddenly as +she had shut her eyes Carley opened them to face her friends. + +“Let me get it over—quickly,” she burst out, with hot blood surging to +her face. “I—I hated the West. It was so raw—so violent—so big. I think +I hate it more—now.... But it changed me—made me over physically—and +did something to my soul—God knows what.... And it has saved Glenn. Oh! +he is wonderful! You would never know him.... For long I had not the +courage to tell him I came to bring him back East. I kept putting it +off. And I rode, I climbed, I camped, I lived outdoors. At first it +nearly killed me. Then it grew bearable, and easier, until I forgot. I +wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit now that somehow I had a wonderful +time, in spite of all.... Glenn’s business is raising hogs. He has a +hog ranch. Doesn’t it sound sordid? But things are not always what they +sound—or seem. Glenn is absorbed in his work. I hated it—I expected to +ridicule it. But I ended by infinitely respecting him. I learned +through his hog-raising the real nobility of work.... Well, at last I +found courage to ask him when he was coming back to New York. He said +‘_never!_’... I realized then my blindness, my selfishness. I could not +be his wife and live there. I could not. I was too small, too +miserable, too comfort-loving—too spoiled. And all the time he knew +this—_knew_ I’d never be big enough to marry him.... That broke my +heart. I left him free—and here I am.... I beg you—don’t ask me any +more—and never to mention it to me—so I can forget.” + +The tender unspoken sympathy of women who loved her proved comforting +in that trying hour. With the confession ruthlessly made the hard +compression in Carley’s breast subsided, and her eyes cleared of a +hateful dimness. When they reached the taxi stand outside the station +Carley felt a rush of hot devitalized air from the street. She seemed +not to be able to get air into her lungs. + +“Isn’t it dreadfully hot?” she asked. + +“This is a cool spell to what we had last week,” replied Eleanor. + +“Cool!” exclaimed Carley, as she wiped her moist face. “I wonder if you +Easterners know the real significance of words.” + +Then they entered a taxi, to be whisked away apparently through a +labyrinthine maze of cars and streets, where pedestrians had to run and +jump for their lives. A congestion of traffic at Fifth Avenue and +Forty-second Street halted their taxi for a few moments, and here in +the thick of it Carley had full assurance that she was back in the +metropolis. Her sore heart eased somewhat at sight of the streams of +people passing to and fro. How they rushed! Where were they going? What +was their story? And all the while her aunt held her hand, and Beatrice +and Eleanor talked as fast as their tongues could wag. Then the taxi +clattered on up the Avenue, to turn down a side street and presently +stop at Carley’s home. It was a modest three-story brown-stone house. +Carley had been so benumbed by sensations that she did not imagine she +could experience a new one. But peering out of the taxi, she gazed +dubiously at the brownish-red stone steps and front of her home. + +“I’m going to have it painted,” she muttered, as if to herself. + +Her aunt and her friends laughed, glad and relieved to hear such a +practical remark from Carley. How were they to divine that this +brownish-red stone was the color of desert rocks and canyon walls? + +In a few more moments Carley was inside the house, feeling a sense of +protection in the familiar rooms that had been her home for seventeen +years. Once in the sanctity of her room, which was exactly as she had +left it, her first action was to look in the mirror at her weary, +dusty, heated face. Neither the brownness of it nor the shadow appeared +to harmonize with the image of her that haunted the mirror. + +“Now!” she whispered low. “It’s done. I’m home. The old life—or a new +life? How to meet either. Now!” + +Thus she challenged her spirit. And her intelligence rang at her the +imperative necessity for action, for excitement, for effort that left +no time for rest or memory or wakefulness. She accepted the issue. She +was glad of the stern fight ahead of her. She set her will and steeled +her heart with all the pride and vanity and fury of a woman who had +been defeated but who scorned defeat. She was what birth and breeding +and circumstance had made her. She would seek what the old life held. + +What with unpacking and chatting and telephoning and lunching, the day +soon passed. Carley went to dinner with friends and later to a roof +garden. The color and light, the gayety and music, the news of +acquaintances, the humor of the actors—all, in fact, except the +unaccustomed heat and noise, were most welcome and diverting. That +night she slept the sleep of weariness. + +Awakening early, she inaugurated a habit of getting up at once, instead +of lolling in bed, and breakfasting there, and reading her mail, as had +been her wont before going West. Then she went over business matters +with her aunt, called on her lawyer and banker, took lunch with Rose +Maynard, and spent the afternoon shopping. Strong as she was, the +unaccustomed heat and the hard pavements and the jostle of shoppers and +the continual rush of sensations wore her out so completely that she +did not want any dinner. She talked to her aunt a while, then went to +bed. + +Next day Carley motored through Central Park, and out of town into +Westchester County, finding some relief from the stiffing heat. But she +seemed to look at the dusty trees and the worn greens without really +seeing them. In the afternoon she called on friends, and had dinner at +home with her aunt, and then went to a theatre. The musical comedy was +good, but the almost unbearable heat and the vitiated air spoiled her +enjoyment. That night upon arriving home at midnight she stepped out of +the taxi, and involuntarily, without thought, looked up to see the +stars. But there were no stars. A murky yellow-tinged blackness hung +low over the city. Carley recollected that stars, and sunrises and +sunsets, and untainted air, and silence were not for city dwellers. She +checked any continuation of the thought. + +A few days sufficed to swing her into the old life. Many of Carley’s +friends had neither the leisure nor the means to go away from the city +during the summer. Some there were who might have afforded that if they +had seen fit to live in less showy apartments, or to dispense with +cars. Other of her best friends were on their summer outings in the +Adirondacks. Carley decided to go with her aunt to Lake Placid about +the first of August. Meanwhile she would keep going and doing. + +She had been a week in town before Morrison telephoned her and added +his welcome. Despite the gay gladness of his voice, it irritated her. +Really, she scarcely wanted to see him. But a meeting was inevitable, +and besides, going out with him was in accordance with the plan she had +adopted. So she made an engagement to meet him at the Plaza for dinner. +When with slow and pondering action she hung up the receiver it +occurred to her that she resented the idea of going to the Plaza. She +did not dwell on the reason why. + +When Carley went into the reception room of the Plaza that night +Morrison was waiting for her—the same slim, fastidious, elegant, +sallow-faced Morrison whose image she had in mind, yet somehow +different. He had what Carley called the New York masculine face, blasé +and lined, with eyes that gleamed, yet had no fire. But at sight of her +his face lighted up. + +“By Jove! but you’ve come back a peach!” he exclaimed, clasping her +extended hand. “Eleanor told me you looked great. It’s worth missing +you to see you like this.” + +“Thanks, Larry,” she replied. “I must look pretty well to win that +compliment from you. And how are you feeling? You don’t seem robust for +a golfer and horseman. But then I’m used to husky Westerners.” + +“Oh, I’m fagged with the daily grind,” he said. “I’ll be glad to get up +in the mountains next month. Let’s go down to dinner.” + +They descended the spiral stairway to the grillroom, where an orchestra +was playing jazz, and dancers gyrated on a polished floor, and diners +in evening dress looked on over their cigarettes. + +“Well, Carley, are you still finicky about the eats?” he queried, +consulting the menu. + +“No. But I prefer plain food,” she replied. + +“Have a cigarette,” he said, holding out his silver monogrammed case. + +“Thanks, Larry. I—I guess I’ll not take up smoking again. You see, +while I was West I got out of the habit.” + +“Yes, they told me you had changed,” he returned. “How about drinking?” + +“Why, I thought New York had gone dry!” she said, forcing a laugh. + +“Only on the surface. Underneath it’s wetter than ever.” + +“Well, I’ll obey the law.” + +He ordered a rather elaborate dinner, and then turning his attention to +Carley, gave her closer scrutiny. Carley knew then that he had become +acquainted with the fact of her broken engagement. It was a relief not +to need to tell him. + +“How’s that big stiff, Kilbourne?” asked Morrison, suddenly. “Is it +true he got well?” + +“Oh—yes! He’s fine,” replied Carley with eyes cast down. A hot knot +seemed to form deep within her and threatened to break and steal along +her veins. “But if you please—I do not care to talk of him.” + +“Naturally. But I must tell you that one man’s loss is another’s gain.” + +Carley had rather expected renewed courtship from Morrison. She had +not, however, been prepared for the beat of her pulse, the quiver of +her nerves, the uprising of hot resentment at the mere mention of +Kilbourne. It was only natural that Glenn’s former rivals should speak +of him, and perhaps disparagingly. But from this man Carley could not +bear even a casual reference. Morrison had escaped the army service. He +had been given a high-salaried post at the ship-yards—the duties of +which, if there had been any, he performed wherever he happened to be. +Morrison’s father had made a fortune in leather during the war. And +Carley remembered Glenn telling her he had seen two whole blocks in +Paris piled twenty feet deep with leather army goods that were never +used and probably had never been intended to be used. Morrison +represented the not inconsiderable number of young men in New York who +had gained at the expense of the valiant legion who had lost. But what +had Morrison gained? Carley raised her eyes to gaze steadily at him. He +looked well-fed, indolent, rich, effete, and supremely self-satisfied. +She could not see that he had gained anything. She would rather have +been a crippled ruined soldier. + +“Larry, I fear gain and loss are mere words,” she said. “The thing that +counts with me is what you _are_.” + +He stared in well-bred surprise, and presently talked of a new dance +which had lately come into vogue. And from that he passed on to gossip +of the theatres. Once between courses of the dinner he asked Carley to +dance, and she complied. The music would have stimulated an Egyptian +mummy, Carley thought, and the subdued rose lights, the murmur of gay +voices, the glide and grace and distortion of the dancers, were +exciting and pleasurable. Morrison had the suppleness and skill of a +dancing-master. But he held Carley too tightly, and so she told him, +and added, “I imbibed some fresh pure air while I was out +West—something you haven’t here—and I don’t want it all squeezed out of +me.” + + +The latter days of July Carley made busy—so busy that she lost her tan +and appetite, and something of her splendid resistance to the dragging +heat and late hours. Seldom was she without some of her friends. She +accepted almost any kind of an invitation, and went even to Coney +Island, to baseball games, to the motion pictures, which were three +forms of amusement not customary with her. At Coney Island, which she +visited with two of her younger girl friends, she had the best time +since her arrival home. What had put her in accord with ordinary +people? The baseball games, likewise pleased her. The running of the +players and the screaming of the spectators amused and excited her. But +she hated the motion pictures with their salacious and absurd +misrepresentations of life, in some cases capably acted by skillful +actors, and in others a silly series of scenes featuring some +doll-faced girl. + +But she refused to go horseback riding in Central Park. She refused to +go to the Plaza. And these refusals she made deliberately, without +asking herself why. + +On August 1st she accompanied her aunt and several friends to Lake +Placid, where they established themselves at a hotel. How welcome to +Carley’s strained eyes were the green of mountains, the soft gleam of +amber water! How sweet and refreshing a breath of cool pure air! The +change from New York’s glare and heat and dirt, and iron-red insulating +walls, and thronging millions of people, and ceaseless roar and rush, +was tremendously relieving to Carley. She had burned the candle at both +ends. But the beauty of the hills and vales, the quiet of the forest, +the sight of the stars, made it harder to forget. She had to rest. And +when she rested she could not always converse, or read, or write. + +For the most part her days held variety and pleasure. The place was +beautiful, the weather pleasant, the people congenial. She motored over +the forest roads, she canoed along the margin of the lake, she played +golf and tennis. She wore exquisite gowns to dinner and danced during +the evenings. But she seldom walked anywhere on the trails and, never +alone, and she never climbed the mountains and never rode a horse. + +Morrison arrived and added his attentions to those of other men. Carley +neither accepted nor repelled them. She favored the association with +married couples and older people, and rather shunned the pairing off +peculiar to vacationists at summer hotels. She had always loved to play +and romp with children, but here she found herself growing to avoid +them, somehow hurt by sound of pattering feet and joyous laughter. She +filled the days as best she could, and usually earned quick slumber at +night. She staked all on present occupation and the truth of flying +time. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The latter part of September Carley returned to New York. + +Soon after her arrival she received by letter a formal proposal of +marriage from Elbert Harrington, who had been quietly attentive to her +during her sojourn at Lake Placid. He was a lawyer of distinction, +somewhat older than most of her friends, and a man of means and fine +family. Carley was quite surprised. Harrington was really one of the +few of her acquaintances whom she regarded as somewhat behind the +times, and liked him the better for that. But she could not marry him, +and replied to his letter in as kindly a manner as possible. Then he +called personally. + +“Carley, I’ve come to ask you to reconsider,” he said, with a smile in +his gray eyes. He was not a tall or handsome man, but he had what women +called a nice strong face. + +“Elbert, you embarrass me,” she replied, trying to laugh it out. +“Indeed I feel honored, and I thank you. But I can’t marry you.” + +“Why not?” he asked, quietly. + +“Because I don’t love you,” she replied. + +“I did not expect you to,” he said. “I hoped in time you might come to +care. I’ve known you a good many years, Carley. Forgive me if I tell +you I see you are breaking—wearing yourself down. Maybe it is not a +husband you need so much now, but you do need a home and children. You +are wasting your life.” + +“All you say may be true, my friend,” replied Carley, with a helpless +little upflinging of hands. “Yet it does not alter my feelings.” + +“But you will marry sooner or later?” he queried, persistently. + +This straightforward question struck Carley as singularly as if it was +one she might never have encountered. It forced her to think of things +she had buried. + +“I don’t believe I ever will,” she answered, thoughtfully. + +“That is nonsense, Carley,” he went on. “You’ll have to marry. What +else can you do? With all due respect to your feelings—that affair with +Kilbourne is ended—and you’re not the wishy-washy heartbreak kind of a +girl.” + +“You can never tell what a woman will do,” she said, somewhat coldly. + +“Certainly not. That’s why I refuse to take no. Carley, be reasonable. +You like me—respect me, do you not?” + +“Why, of course I do!” + +“I’m only thirty-five, and I could give you all any sensible woman +wants,” he said. “Let’s make a real American home. Have you thought at +all about that, Carley? Something is wrong today. Men are not marrying. +Wives are not having children. Of all the friends I have, not one has a +real American home. Why, it is a terrible fact! But, Carley, you are +not a sentimentalist, or a melancholiac. Nor are you a waster. You have +fine qualities. You need something to do, some one to care for.” + +“Pray do not think me ungrateful, Elbert,” she replied, “nor insensible +to the truth of what you say. But my answer is no!” + +When Harrington had gone Carley went to her room, and precisely as upon +her return from Arizona she faced her mirror skeptically and +relentlessly. “I am such a liar that I’ll do well to look at myself,” +she meditated. “Here I am again. Now! The world expects me to marry. +But _what_ do I expect?” + +There was a raw unheated wound in Carley’s heart. Seldom had she +permitted herself to think about it, let alone to probe it with hard +materialistic queries. But custom to her was as inexorable as life. If +she chose to live in the world she must conform to its customs. For a +woman marriage was the aim and the end and the all of existence. +Nevertheless, for Carley it could not be without love. Before she had +gone West she might have had many of the conventional modern ideas +about women and marriage. But because out there in the wilds her love +and perception had broadened, now her arraignment of herself and her +sex was bigger, sterner, more exacting. The months she had been home +seemed fuller than all the months of her life. She had tried to forget +and enjoy; she had not succeeded; but she had looked with far-seeing +eyes at her world. Glenn Kilbourne’s tragic fate had opened her eyes. + +Either the world was all wrong or the people in it were. But if that +were an extravagant and erroneous supposition, there certainly was +proof positive that her own small individual world was wrong. The women +did not do any real work; they did not bear children; they lived on +excitement and luxury. They had no ideals. How greatly were men to +blame? Carley doubted her judgment here. But as men could not live +without the smiles and comradeship and love of women, it was only +natural that they should give the women what they wanted. Indeed, they +had no choice. It was give or go without. How much of real love entered +into the marriages among her acquaintances? Before marriage Carley +wanted a girl to be sweet, proud, aloof, with a heart of golden fire. +Not attainable except through love! It would be better that no children +be born at all unless born of such beautiful love. Perhaps that was why +so few children were born. Nature’s balance and revenge! In Arizona +Carley had learned something of the ruthlessness and inevitableness of +nature. She was finding out she had learned this with many other +staggering facts. + +“I love Glenn still,” she whispered, passionately, with trembling lips, +as she faced the tragic-eyed image of herself in the mirror. “I love +him more—more. Oh, my God! If I were honest I’d cry out the truth! It +is terrible. ... I will always love him. How then could I marry any +other man? I would be a lie, a cheat. If I could only forget him—only +kill that love. Then I might love another man—and if I did love him—no +matter what I had felt or done before, I would be worthy. I could feel +worthy. I could give him just as much. But without such love I’d give +only a husk—a body without soul.” + +Love, then, was the sacred and holy flame of life that sanctioned the +begetting of children. Marriage might be a necessity of modern time, +but it was not the vital issue. Carley’s anguish revealed strange and +hidden truths. In some inexplicable way Nature struck a terrible +balance—revenged herself upon a people who had no children, or who +brought into the world children not created by the divinity of love, +unyearned for, and therefore somehow doomed to carry on the blunders +and burdens of life. + +Carley realized how right and true it might be for her to throw herself +away upon an inferior man, even a fool or a knave, if she loved him +with that great and natural love of woman; likewise it dawned upon her +how false and wrong and sinful it would be to marry the greatest or the +richest or the noblest man unless she had that supreme love to give +him, and knew it was reciprocated. + +“What am I going to do with my life?” she asked, bitterly and aghast. +“I have been—I am a waster. I’ve lived for nothing but pleasurable +sensation. I’m utterly useless. I do absolutely no good on earth.” + +Thus she saw how Harrington’s words rang true—how they had precipitated +a crisis for which her unconscious brooding had long made preparation. + +“Why not give up ideals and be like the rest of my kind?” she +soliloquized. + +That was one of the things which seemed wrong with modern life. She +thrust the thought from her with passionate scorn. If poor, broken, +ruined Glenn Kilbourne could cling to an ideal and fight for it, could +not she, who had all the world esteemed worth while, be woman enough to +do the same? The direction of her thought seemed to have changed. She +had been ready for rebellion. Three months of the old life had shown +her that for her it was empty, vain, farcical, without one redeeming +feature. The naked truth was brutal, but it cut clean to wholesome +consciousness. Such so-called social life as she had plunged into +deliberately to forget her unhappiness had failed her utterly. If she +had been shallow and frivolous it might have done otherwise. Stripped +of all guise, her actions must have been construed by a penetrating and +impartial judge as a mere parading of her decorated person before a +number of males with the purpose of ultimate selection. + +“I’ve got to find some work,” she muttered, soberly. + +At the moment she heard the postman’s whistle outside; and a little +later the servant brought up her mail. The first letter, large, soiled, +thick, bore the postmark Flagstaff, and her address in Glenn +Kilbourne’s writing. + +Carley stared at it. Her heart gave a great leap. Her hand shook. She +sat down suddenly as if the strength of her legs was inadequate to +uphold her. + +“Glenn has—written me!” she whispered, in slow, halting realization. +“For what? Oh, why?” + +The other letters fell off her lap, to lie unnoticed. This big thick +envelope fascinated her. It was one of the stamped envelopes she had +seen in his cabin. It contained a letter that had been written on his +rude table, before the open fire, in the light of the doorway, in that +little log-cabin under the spreading pines of West Ford Canyon. Dared +she read it? The shock to her heart passed; and with mounting swell, +seemingly too full for her breast, it began to beat and throb a wild +gladness through all her being. She tore the envelope apart and read: + + +DEAR CARLEY: + +I’m surely glad for a good excuse to write you. + +Once in a blue moon I get a letter, and today Hutter brought me one +from a soldier pard of mine who was with me in the Argonne. His name is +Virgil Rust—queer name, don’t you think?—and he’s from Wisconsin. Just +a rough-diamond sort of chap, but fairly well educated. He and I were +in some pretty hot places, and it was he who pulled me out of a shell +crater. I’d “gone west” sure then if it hadn’t been for Rust. + +Well, he did all sorts of big things during the war. Was down several +times with wounds. He liked to fight and he was a holy terror. We all +thought he’d get medals and promotion. But he didn’t get either. These +much-desired things did not always go where they were best deserved. + +Rust is now lying in a hospital in Bedford Park. His letter is pretty +blue. All he says about why he’s there is that he’s knocked out. But he +wrote a heap about his girl. It seems he was in love with a girl in his +home town—a pretty, big-eyed lass whose picture I’ve seen—and while he +was overseas she married one of the chaps who got out of fighting. +Evidently Rust is deeply hurt. He wrote: “I’d not care so... if she’d +thrown me down to marry an old man or a boy who couldn’t have gone to +war.” You see, Carley, service men feel queer about that sort of thing. +It’s something we got over there, and none of us will ever outlive it. +Now, the point of this is that I am asking you to go see Rust, and +cheer him up, and do what you can for the poor devil. It’s a good deal +to ask of you, I know, especially as Rust saw _your_ picture many a +time and knows you were my girl. But you needn’t tell him that you—we +couldn’t make a go of it. + +And, as I am writing this to you, I see no reason why I shouldn’t go on +in behalf of myself. + +The fact is, Carley, I miss writing to you more than I miss anything of +my old life. I’ll bet you have a trunkful of letters from me—unless +you’ve destroyed them. I’m not going to say how I miss _your_ letters. +But I will say you wrote the most charming and fascinating letters of +anyone I ever knew, quite aside from any sentiment. You knew, of +course, that I had no other girl correspondent. Well, I got along +fairly well before you came West, but I’d be an awful liar if I denied +I didn’t get lonely for you and your letters. It’s different now that +you’ve been to Oak Creek. I’m alone most of the time and I dream a lot, +and I’m afraid I see you here in my cabin, and along the brook, and +under the pines, and riding Calico—which you came to do well—and on my +hogpen fence—and, oh, everywhere! I don’t want you to think I’m down in +the mouth, for I’m not. I’ll take my medicine. But, Carley, you spoiled +me, and I miss hearing from you, and I don’t see why it wouldn’t be all +right for you to send me a friendly letter occasionally. + +It is autumn now. I wish you could see Arizona canyons in their +gorgeous colors. We have had frost right along and the mornings are +great. There’s a broad zigzag belt of gold halfway up the San Francisco +peaks, and that is the aspen thickets taking on their fall coat. Here +in the canyon you’d think there was blazing fire everywhere. The vines +and the maples are red, scarlet, carmine, cerise, magenta, all the hues +of flame. The oak leaves are turning russet gold, and the sycamores are +yellow green. Up on the desert the other day I rode across a patch of +asters, lilac and lavender, almost purple. I had to get off and pluck a +handful. And then what do you think? I dug up the whole bunch, roots +and all, and planted them on the sunny side of my cabin. I rather guess +your love of flowers engendered this remarkable susceptibility in me. + +I’m home early most every afternoon now, and I like the couple of hours +loafing around. Guess it’s bad for me, though. You know I seldom hunt, +and the trout in the pool here are so tame now they’ll almost eat out +of my hand. I haven’t the heart to fish for them. The squirrels, too, +have grown tame and friendly. There’s a red squirrel that climbs up on +my table. And there’s a chipmunk who lives in my cabin and runs over my +bed. I’ve a new pet—the little pig you christened Pinky. After he had +the wonderful good fortune to be caressed and named by you I couldn’t +think of letting him grow up in an ordinary piglike manner. So I +fetched him home. My dog, Moze, was jealous at first and did not like +this intrusion, but now they are good friends and sleep together. Flo +has a kitten she’s going to give me, and then, as Hutter says, I’ll be +“Jake.” + +My occupation during these leisure hours perhaps would strike my old +friends East as idle, silly, mawkish. But I believe you will understand +me. + +I have the pleasure of doing nothing, and of catching now and then a +glimpse of supreme joy in the strange state of _thinking_ nothing. +Tennyson came close to this in his “Lotus Eaters.” Only to see—only to +feel is enough! + +Sprawled on the warm sweet pine needles, I breathe through them the +breath of the earth and am somehow no longer lonely. I cannot, of +course, see the sunset, but I watch for its coming on the eastern wall +of the canyon. I see the shadow slowly creep up, driving the gold +before it, until at last the canyon rim and pines are turned to golden +fire. I watch the sailing eagles as they streak across the gold, and +swoop up into the blue, and pass out of sight. I watch the golden flush +fade to gray, and then, the canyon slowly fills with purple shadows. +This hour of twilight is the silent and melancholy one. Seldom is there +any sound save the soft rush of the water over the stones, and that +seems to die away. For a moment, perhaps, I am Hiawatha alone in his +forest home, or a more primitive savage, feeling the great, silent +pulse of nature, happy in unconsciousness, like a beast of the wild. +But only for an instant do I ever catch this fleeting state. Next I am +Glenn Kilbourne of West Fork, doomed and haunted by memories of the +past. The great looming walls then become no longer blank. They are +vast pages of the history of my life, with its past and present, and, +alas! its future. Everything time does is written on the stones. And my +stream seems to murmur the sad and ceaseless flow of human life, with +its music and its misery. + +Then, descending from the sublime to the humdrum and necessary, I heave +a sigh, and pull myself together, and go in to make biscuits and fry +ham. But I should not forget to tell you that before I do go in, very +often my looming, wonderful walls and crags weave in strange shadowy +characters the beautiful and unforgettable face of Carley Burch! + + +I append what little news Oak Creek affords. + +That blamed old bald eagle stole another of my pigs. + +I am doing so well with my hog-raising that Hutter wants to come in +with me, giving me an interest in his sheep. + +It is rumored some one has bought the Deep Lake section I wanted for a +ranch. I don’t know who. Hutter was rather noncommittal. + +Charley, the herder, had one of his queer spells the other day, and +swore to me he had a letter from you. He told the blamed lie with a +sincere and placid eye, and even a smile of pride. Queer guy, that +Charley! + +Flo and Lee Stanton had another quarrel—the worst yet, Lee tells me. +Flo asked a girl friend out from Flag and threw her in Lee’s way, so to +speak, and when Lee retaliated by making love to the girl Flo got mad. +Funny creatures, you girls! Flo rode with me from High Falls to West +Fork, and never showed the slightest sign of trouble. In fact she was +delightfully gay. She rode Calico, and beat me bad in a race. + + +_Adios_, Carley. Won’t you write me? +GLENN. + + +No sooner had Carley read the letter through to the end than she began +it all over again, and on this second perusal she lingered over +passages—only to reread them. That suggestion of her face sculptured by +shadows on the canyon walls seemed to thrill her very soul. + +She leaped up from the reading to cry out something that was +unutterable. All the intervening weeks of shame and anguish and fury +and strife and pathos, and the endless striving to forget, were as if +by the magic of a letter made nothing but vain oblations. + +“He loves me still!” she whispered, and pressed her breast with +clenching hands, and laughed in wild exultance, and paced her room like +a caged lioness. It was as if she had just awakened to the assurance +she was beloved. That was the shibboleth—the cry by which she sounded +the closed depths of her love and called to the stricken life of a +woman’s insatiate vanity. + +Then she snatched up the letter, to scan it again, and, suddenly +grasping the import of Glenn’s request, she hurried to the telephone to +find the number of the hospital in Bedford Park. A nurse informed her +that visitors were received at certain hours and that any attention to +disabled soldiers was most welcome. + +Carley motored out there to find the hospital merely a long one-story +frame structure, a barracks hastily thrown up for the care of invalided +men of the service. The chauffeur informed her that it had been used +for that purpose during the training period of the army, and later when +injured soldiers began to arrive from France. + +A nurse admitted Carley into a small bare anteroom. Carley made known +her errand. + +“I’m glad it’s Rust you want to see,” replied the nurse. “Some of these +boys are going to die. And some will be worse off if they live. But +Rust may get well if he’ll only behave. You are a relative—or friend?” + +“I don’t know him,” answered Carley. “But I have a friend who was with +him in France.” + +The nurse led Carley into a long narrow room with a line of single beds +down each side, a stove at each end, and a few chairs. Each bed +appeared to have an occupant and those nearest Carley lay singularly +quiet. At the far end of the room were soldiers on crutches, wearing +bandages on their beads, carrying their arms in slings. Their merry +voices contrasted discordantly with their sad appearance. + +Presently Carley stood beside a bed and looked down upon a gaunt, +haggard young man who lay propped up on pillows. + +“Rust—a lady to see you,” announced the nurse. + +Carley had difficulty in introducing herself. Had Glenn ever looked +like this? What a face! It’s healed scar only emphasized the pallor and +furrows of pain that assuredly came from present wounds. He had +unnaturally bright dark eyes, and a flush of fever in his hollow +cheeks. + +“How do!” he said, with a wan smile. “Who’re you?” + +“I’m Glenn Kilbourne’s fiancée,” she replied, holding out her hand. + +“Say, I ought to’ve known you,” he said, eagerly, and a warmth of light +changed the gray shade of his face. “You’re the girl Carley! You’re +almost like my—my own girl. By golly! You’re some looker! It was good +of you to come. Tell me about Glenn.” + +Carley took the chair brought by the nurse, and pulling it close to the +bed, she smiled down upon him and said: “I’ll be glad to tell you all I +know—presently. But first you tell me about yourself. Are you in pain? +What is your trouble? You must let me do everything I can for you, and +these other men.” + +Carley spent a poignant and depth-stirring hour at the bedside of +Glenn’s comrade. At last she learned from loyal lips the nature of +Glenn Kilbourne’s service to his country. How Carley clasped to her +sore heart the praise of the man she loved—the simple proofs of his +noble disregard of self! Rust said little about his own service to +country or to comrade. But Carley saw enough in his face. He had been +like Glenn. By these two Carley grasped the compelling truth of the +spirit and sacrifice of the legion of boys who had upheld American +traditions. Their children and their children’s children, as the years +rolled by into the future, would hold their heads higher and prouder. +Some things could never die in the hearts and the blood of a race. +These boys, and the girls who had the supreme glory of being loved by +them, must be the ones to revive the Americanism of their forefathers. +Nature and God would take care of the slackers, the cowards who cloaked +their shame with bland excuses of home service, of disability, and of +dependence. + +Carley saw two forces in life—the destructive and constructive. On the +one side greed, selfishness, materialism: on the other generosity, +sacrifice, and idealism. Which of them builded for the future? She saw +men as wolves, sharks, snakes, vermin, and opposed to them men as lions +and eagles. She saw women who did not inspire men to fare forth to +seek, to imagine, to dream, to hope, to work, to fight. She began to +have a glimmering of what a woman might be. + + +That night she wrote swiftly and feverishly, page after page, to Glenn, +only to destroy what she had written. She could not keep her heart out +of her words, nor a hint of what was becoming a sleepless and eternal +regret. She wrote until a late hour, and at last composed a letter she +knew did not ring true, so stilted and restrained was it in all +passages save those concerning news of Glenn’s comrade and of her own +friends. “I’ll never—never write him again,” she averred with stiff +lips, and next moment could have laughed in mockery at the bitter +truth. If she had ever had any courage, Glenn’s letter had destroyed +it. But had it not been a kind of selfish, false courage, roused to +hide her hurt, to save her own future? Courage should have a thought of +others. Yet shamed one moment at the consciousness she would write +Glenn again and again, and exultant the next with the clamouring love, +she seemed to have climbed beyond the self that had striven to forget. +She would remember and think though she died of longing. + +Carley, like a drowning woman, caught at straws. What a relief and joy +to give up that endless nagging at her mind! For months she had kept +ceaselessly active, by associations which were of no help to her and +which did not make her happy, in her determination to forget. Suddenly +then she gave up to remembrance. She would cease trying to get over her +love for Glenn, and think of him and dream about him as much as memory +dictated. This must constitute the only happiness she could have. + +The change from strife to surrender was so novel and sweet that for +days she felt renewed. It was augmented by her visits to the hospital +in Bedford Park. Through her bountiful presence Virgil Rust and his +comrades had many dull hours of pain and weariness alleviated and +brightened. Interesting herself in the condition of the seriously +disabled soldiers and possibility of their future took time and work +Carley gave willingly and gladly. At first she endeavored to get +acquaintances with means and leisure to help the boys, but these +overtures met with such little success that she quit wasting valuable +time she could herself devote to their interests. + +Thus several weeks swiftly passed by. Several soldiers who had been +more seriously injured than Rust improved to the extent that they were +discharged. But Rust gained little or nothing. The nurse and doctor +both informed Carley that Rust brightened for her, but when she was +gone he lapsed into somber indifference. He did not care whether he ate +or not, or whether he got well or died. + +“If I do pull out, where’ll I go and what’ll I do?” he once asked the +nurse. + +Carley knew that Rust’s hurt was more than loss of a leg, and she +decided to talk earnestly to him and try to win him to hope and effort. +He had come to have a sort of reverence for her. So, biding her time, +she at length found opportunity to approach his bed while his comrades +were asleep or out of hearing. He endeavored to laugh her off, and then +tried subterfuge, and lastly he cast off his mask and let her see his +naked soul. + +“Carley, I don’t want your money or that of your kind friends—whoever +they are—you say will help me to get into business,” he said. “God +knows I thank you and it warms me inside to find _some one_ who +appreciates what I’ve given. But I don’t want charity.... And I guess +I’m pretty sick of the game. I’m sorry the Boches didn’t do the job +right.” + +“Rust, that is morbid talk,” replied Carley. “You’re ill and you just +can’t see any hope. You must cheer up—fight _yourself;_ and look at the +brighter side. It’s a horrible pity you must be a cripple, but Rust, +indeed life can be worth living if you make it so.” + +“How could there be a brighter side when a man’s only half a man—” he +queried, bitterly. + +“You can be just as much a man as ever,” persisted Carley, trying to +smile when she wanted to cry. + +“Could you care for a man with only one leg?” he asked, deliberately. + +“What a question! Why, of course I could!” + +“Well, maybe you are different. Glenn always swore even if he was +killed no slacker or no rich guy left at home could ever get you. Maybe +you haven’t any idea how much it means to us fellows to know there +_are_ true and faithful girls. But I’ll tell you, Carley, we fellows +who went across got to see things strange when we came home. The good +old U. S. needs a lot of faithful girls just now, believe me.” + +“Indeed that’s true,” replied Carley. “It’s a hard time for everybody, +and particularly you boys who have lost so—so much.” + +“I lost _all_, except my life—and I wish to God I’d lost that,” he +replied, gloomily. + +“Oh, don’t talk so!” implored Carley in distress. “Forgive me, Rust, if +I hurt you. But I must tell you—that—that Glenn wrote me—you’d lost +your girl. Oh, I’m sorry! It is dreadful for you now. But if you got +well—and went to work—and took up life where you left it—why soon your +pain would grow easier. And you’d find some happiness yet.” + +“Never for me in this world.” + +“But why, Rust, _why?_ You’re no—no—Oh! I mean you have intelligence +and courage. Why isn’t there anything left for you?” + +“Because something here’s been killed,” he replied, and put his hand to +his heart. + +“Your faith? Your love of—of everything? Did the war kill it?” + +“I’d gotten over that, maybe,” he said, drearily, with his somber eyes +on space that seemed lettered for him. “But _she_ half murdered it—and +_they_ did the rest.” + +“They? Whom do you mean, Rust?” + +“Why, Carley, I mean the people I lost my leg for!” he replied, with +terrible softness. + +“The British? The French?” she queried, in bewilderment. + +“_No!_” he cried, and turned his face to the wall. + +Carley dared not ask him more. She was shocked. How helplessly impotent +all her earnest sympathy! No longer could she feel an impersonal, +however kindly, interest in this man. His last ringing word had linked +her also to his misfortune and his suffering. Suddenly he turned away +from the wall. She saw him swallow laboriously. How tragic that thin, +shadowed face of agony! Carley saw it differently. But for the +beautiful softness of light in his eyes, she would have been unable to +endure gazing longer. + +“Carley, I’m bitter,” he said, “but I’m not rancorous and callous, like +some of the boys. I know if you’d been my girl you’d have stuck to me.” + +“Yes,” Carley whispered. + +“That makes a difference,” he went on, with a sad smile. “You see, we +soldiers all had feelings. And in one thing we all felt alike. That was +we were going to fight for our homes and our women. I should say women +first. No matter what we read or heard about standing by our allies, +fighting for liberty or civilization, the truth was we all felt the +same, even if we never breathed it.... Glenn fought for you. I fought +for Nell.... We were not going to let the Huns treat you as they +treated French and Belgian girls.... And think! Nell was engaged to +me—she _loved_ me—and, by God! She married a slacker when I lay half +dead on the battlefield!” + +“She was not worth loving or fighting for,” said Carley, with +agitation. + +“Ah! now you’ve said something,” he declared. “If I can only hold to +that truth! What does one girl amount to? _I_ do not count. It is the +sum that counts. We love America—our homes—our women!... Carley, I’ve +had comfort and strength come to me through you. Glenn will have his +reward in your love. Somehow I seem to share it, a little. Poor Glenn! +He got his, too. Why, Carley, that guy wouldn’t _let_ you do what he +could do _for you_. He was cut to pieces—” + +“Please—Rust—don’t say any more. I am unstrung,” she pleaded. + +“Why not? It’s due you to know how splendid Glenn was.... I tell you, +Carley, all the boys here love you for the way you’ve stuck to Glenn. +Some of them knew him, and I’ve told the rest. We thought he’d never +pull through. But he has, and we know how you helped. Going West to see +him! He didn’t write it to me, but I know.... I’m wise. I’m happy for +him—the lucky dog. Next time you go West—” + +“Hush!” cried Carley. She could endure no more. She could no longer be +a lie. + +“You’re white—you’re shaking,” exclaimed Rust, in concern. “Oh, I—what +did I say? Forgive me—” + +“Rust, I am no more worth loving and fighting for than your Nell.” + +“What!” he ejaculated. + +“I have not told you the truth,” she said, swiftly. “I have let you +believe a lie.... I shall never marry Glenn. I broke my engagement to +him.” + +Slowly Rust sank back upon the pillow, his large luminous eyes +piercingly fixed upon her, as if he would read her soul. + +“I went West—yes—” continued Carley. “But it was selfishly. I wanted +Glenn to come back here.... He had suffered as you have. He nearly +died. But he fought—he fought—Oh! he went through hell! And after a +long, slow, horrible struggle he began to mend. He worked. He went to +raising hogs. He lived alone. He worked harder and harder.... The West +and his work saved him, body and soul.... He had learned to love both +the West and his work. I did not blame him. But I could not live out +there. He needed me. But I was too little—too selfish. I could not +marry him. I gave him up. ... I left—him—alone!” + +Carley shrank under the scorn in Rust’s eyes. + +“And there’s another man,” he said, “a clean, straight, unscarred +fellow who wouldn’t fight!” + +“Oh, no—I—I swear there’s not,” whispered Carley. + +“You, too,” he replied, thickly. Then slowly he turned that worn dark +face to the wall. His frail breast heaved. And his lean hand made her a +slight gesture of dismissal, significant and imperious. + +Carley fled. She could scarcely see to find the car. All her internal +being seemed convulsed, and a deadly faintness made her sick and cold. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Carley’s edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in +ruins about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal +for foundation. It had to fall. + +Something inevitable had forced her confession to Rust. Dissimulation +had been a habit of her mind; it was more a habit of her class than +sincerity. But she had reached a point in her mental strife where she +could not stand before Rust and let him believe she was noble and +faithful when she knew she was neither. Would not the next step in this +painful metamorphosis of her character be a fierce and passionate +repudiation of herself and all she represented? + +She went home and locked herself in her room, deaf to telephone and +servants. There she gave up to her shame. Scorned—despised—dismissed by +that poor crippled flame-spirited Virgil Rust! He had reverenced her, +and the truth had earned his hate. Would she ever forget his +look—incredulous—shocked—bitter—and blazing with unutterable contempt? +Carley Burch was only another Nell—a jilt—a mocker of the manhood of +soldiers! Would she ever cease to shudder at memory of Rust’s slight +movement of hand? Go! Get out of my sight! Leave me to my agony as you +left Glenn Kilbourne alone to fight his! Men such as I am do not want +the smile of your face, the touch of your hand! We gave for womanhood! +Pass on to lesser men who loved the fleshpots and who would buy your +charms! So Carley interpreted that slight gesture, and writhed in her +abasement. + +Rust threw a white, illuminating light upon her desertion of Glenn. She +had betrayed him. She had left him alone. Dwarfed and stunted was her +narrow soul! To a man who had given all for her she had returned +nothing. Stone for bread! Betrayal for love! Cowardice for courage! + +The hours of contending passions gave birth to vague, slow-forming +revolt. + +She became haunted by memory pictures and sounds and smells of Oak +Creek Canyon. As from afar she saw the great sculptured rent in the +earth, green and red and brown, with its shining, flashing ribbons of +waterfalls and streams. The mighty pines stood up magnificent and +stately. The walls loomed high, shadowed under the shelves, gleaming in +the sunlight, and they seemed dreaming, waiting, watching. For what? +For her return to their serene fastnesses—to the little gray log cabin. +The thought stormed Carley’s soul. + +Vivid and intense shone the images before her shut eyes. She saw the +winding forest floor, green with grass and fern, colorful with flower +and rock. A thousand aisles, glades, nooks, and caverns called her to +come. Nature was every woman’s mother. The populated city was a +delusion. Disease and death and corruption stalked in the shadows of +the streets. But her canyon promised hard work, playful hours, dreaming +idleness, beauty, health, fragrance, loneliness, peace, wisdom, love, +children, and long life. In the hateful shut-in isolation of her room +Carley stretched forth her arms as if to embrace the vision. Pale close +walls, gleaming placid stretches of brook, churning amber and white +rapids, mossy banks and pine-matted ledges, the towers and turrets and +ramparts where the eagles wheeled—she saw them all as beloved images +lost to her save in anguished memory. + +She heard the murmur of flowing water, soft, low, now loud, and again +lulling, hollow and eager, tinkling over rocks, bellowing into the deep +pools, washing with silky seep of wind-swept waves the hanging willows. +Shrill and piercing and far-aloft pealed the scream of the eagle. And +she seemed to listen to a mocking bird while he mocked her with his +melody of many birds. The bees hummed, the wind moaned, the leaves +rustled, the waterfall murmured. Then came the sharp rare note of a +canyon swift, most mysterious of birds, significant of the heights. + +A breath of fragrance seemed to blow with her shifting senses. The dry, +sweet, tangy canyon smells returned to her—of fresh-cut timber, of wood +smoke, of the cabin fire with its steaming pots, of flowers and earth, +and of the wet stones, of the redolent pines and the pungent cedars. + +And suddenly, clearly, amazingly, Carley beheld in her mind’s sight the +hard features, the bold eyes, the slight smile, the coarse face of Haze +Ruff. She had forgotten him. But he now returned. And with memory of +him flashed a revelation as to his meaning in her life. He had appeared +merely a clout, a ruffian, an animal with man’s shape and intelligence. +But he was the embodiment of the raw, crude violence of the West. He +was the eyes of the natural primitive man, believing what he saw. He +had seen in Carley Burch the paraded charm, the unashamed and serene +front, the woman seeking man. Haze Ruff had been neither vile nor base +nor unnatural. It had been her subjection to the decadence of feminine +dress that had been unnatural. But Ruff had found her a lie. She +invited what she did not want. And his scorn had been commensurate with +the falsehood of her. So might any man have been justified in his +insult to her, in his rejection of her. Haze Ruff had found her unfit +for his idea of dalliance. Virgil Rust had found her false to the +ideals of womanhood for which he had sacrificed all but life itself. +What then had Glenn Kilbourne found her? He possessed the greatness of +noble love. He had loved her before the dark and changeful tide of war +had come between them. How had he judged her? That last sight of him +standing alone, leaning with head bowed, a solitary figure trenchant +with suggestion of tragic resignation and strength, returned to flay +Carley. He had loved, trusted, and hoped. She saw now what his hope had +been—that she would have instilled into her blood the subtle, red, and +revivifying essence of calling life in the open, the strength of the +wives of earlier years, an emanation from canyon, desert, mountain, +forest, of health, of spirit, of forward-gazing natural love, of the +mysterious saving instinct he had gotten out of the West. And she had +been too little too steeped in the indulgence of luxurious life too +slight-natured and pale-blooded! And suddenly there pierced into the +black storm of Carley’s mind a blazing, white-streaked thought—she had +left Glenn to the Western girl, Flo Hutter. Humiliated, and abased in +her own sight, Carley fell prey to a fury of jealousy. + + +She went back to the old life. But it was in a bitter, restless, +critical spirit, conscious of the fact that she could derive neither +forgetfulness nor pleasure from it, nor see any release from the habit +of years. + +One afternoon, late in the fall, she motored out to a Long Island club +where the last of the season’s golf was being enjoyed by some of her +most intimate friends. Carley did not play. Aimlessly she walked around +the grounds, finding the autumn colors subdued and drab, like her mind. +The air held a promise of early winter. She thought that she would go +South before the cold came. Always trying to escape anything rigorous, +hard, painful, or disagreeable! Later she returned to the clubhouse to +find her party assembled on an inclosed porch, chatting and partaking +of refreshment. Morrison was there. He had not taken kindly to her late +habit of denying herself to him. + +During a lull in the idle conversation Morrison addressed Carley +pointedly. “Well, Carley, how’s your Arizona hog-raiser?” he queried, +with a little gleam in his usually lusterless eyes. + +“I have not heard lately,” she replied, coldly. + +The assembled company suddenly quieted with a portent inimical to their +leisurely content of the moment. Carley felt them all looking at her, +and underneath the exterior she preserved with extreme difficulty, +there burned so fierce an anger that she seemed to have swelling veins +of fire. + +“Queer how Kilbourne went into raising hogs,” observed Morrison. “Such +a low-down sort of work, you know.” + +“He had no choice,” replied Carley. “Glenn didn’t have a father who +made tainted millions out of the war. He had to work. And I must differ +with you about its being low-down. No honest work is that. It is +idleness that is low down.” + +“But so foolish of Glenn when he might have married money,” rejoined +Morrison, sarcastcally. + +“The honor of soldiers is beyond your ken, Mr. Morrison.” + +He flushed darkly and bit his lip. + +“You women make a man sick with this rot about soldiers,” he said, the +gleam in his eye growing ugly. “A uniform goes to a woman’s head no +matter what’s inside it. I don’t see where your vaunted honor of +soldiers comes in considering how they accepted the let-down of women +during and after the war.” + +“How could you see when you stayed comfortably at home?” retorted +Carley. + +“All I could see was women falling into soldiers’ arms,” he said, +sullenly. + +“Certainly. Could an American girl desire any greater happiness—or +opportunity to prove her gratitude?” flashed Carley, with proud uplift +of head. + +“It didn’t look like gratitude to me,” returned Morrison. + +“Well, it _was_ gratitude,” declared Carley, ringingly. “If women of +America did throw themselves at soldiers it was not owing to the moral +lapse of the day. It was woman’s instinct to save the race! Always, in +every war, women have sacrificed themselves to the future. Not vile, +but noble!... You insult both soldiers and women, Mr. Morrison. I +wonder—did any American girls throw themselves at _you?_” + +Morrison turned a dead white, and his mouth twisted to a distorted +checking of speech, disagreeable to see. + +“No, you were a slacker,” went on Carley, with scathing scorn. “You let +the other men go fight for American girls. Do you imagine one of them +will ever _marry_ you?... All your life, Mr. Morrison, you will be a +marked man—outside the pale of friendship with real American men and +the respect of real American girls.” + +Morrison leaped up, almost knocking the table over, and he glared at +Carley as he gathered up his hat and cane. She turned her back upon +him. From that moment he ceased to exist for Carley. She never spoke to +him again. + + +Next day Carley called upon her dearest friend, whom she had not seen +for some time. + +“Carley dear, you don’t look so very well,” said Eleanor, after +greetings had been exchanged. + +“Oh, what does it matter how I look?” queried Carley, impatiently. + +“You were so wonderful when you got home from Arizona.” + +“If I was wonderful and am now commonplace you can thank your old New +York for it.” + +“Carley, don’t you care for New York any more?” asked Eleanor. + +“Oh, New York is all right, I suppose. It’s I who am wrong.” + +“My dear, you puzzle me these days. You’ve changed. I’m sorry. I’m +afraid you’re unhappy.” + +“Me? Oh, impossible! I’m in a seventh heaven,” replied Carley, with a +hard little laugh. “What ’re you doing this afternoon? Let’s go +out—riding—or somewhere.” + +“I’m expecting the dressmaker.” + +“Where are you going to-night?” + +“Dinner and theater. It’s a party, or I’d ask you.” + +“What did you do yesterday and the day before, and the days before +that?” + +Eleanor laughed indulgently, and acquainted Carley with a record of her +social wanderings during the last few days. + +“The same old things—over and over again! Eleanor don’t you get sick of +it?” queried Carley. + +“Oh yes, to tell the truth,” returned Eleanor, thoughtfully. “But +there’s nothing else to do.” + +“Eleanor, I’m no better than you,” said Carley, with disdain. “I’m as +useless and idle. But I’m beginning to see myself—and you—and all this +rotten crowd of ours. We’re no good. But you’re married, Eleanor. +You’re settled in life. You ought to _do something_. I’m single and at +loose ends. Oh, I’m in revolt!... Think, Eleanor, just think. Your +husband works hard to keep you in this expensive apartment. You have a +car. He dresses you in silks and satins. You wear diamonds. You eat +your breakfast in bed. You loll around in a pink dressing gown all +morning. You dress for lunch or tea. You ride or golf or worse than +waste your time on some lounge lizard, dancing till time to come home +to dress for dinner. You let other men make love to you. Oh, don’t get +sore. You do.... And so goes the round of your life. What good on earth +are you, anyhow? You’re just a—a gratification to the senses of your +husband. And at that you don’t see much of _him_.” + +“Carley, how you rave!” exclaimed her friend. “What has gotten into you +lately? Why, everybody tells me you’re—you’re queer! The way you +insulted Morrison—how unlike you, Carley!” + +“I’m glad I found the nerve to do it. What do you think, Eleanor?” + +“Oh, I despise him. But you can’t say the things you feel.” + +“You’d be bigger and truer if you did. Some day I’ll break out and flay +you and your friends alive.” + +“But, Carley, you’re my friend and you’re just exactly like we are. Or +you were, quite recently.” + +“Of course, I’m your friend. I’ve always loved you, Eleanor,” went on +Carley, earnestly. “I’m as deep in this—this damned stagnant muck as +you, or anyone. But I’m no longer _blind_. There’s something terribly +wrong with us women, and it’s not what Morrison hinted.” + +“Carley, the only thing wrong with you is that you jilted poor +Glenn—and are breaking your heart over him still.” + +“Don’t—don’t!” cried Carley, shrinking. “God knows that is true. But +there’s more wrong with me than a blighted love affair.” + +“Yes, you mean the modern feminine unrest?” + +“Eleanor, I positively hate that phrase ‘modern feminine unrest!’ It +smacks of ultra—ultra—Oh! I don’t know what. That phrase ought to be +translated by a Western acquaintance of mine—one Haze Ruff. I’d not +like to hurt your sensitive feelings with what he’d say. But this +unrest means speed-mad, excitement-mad, fad-mad, dress-mad, or I should +say _un_dress-mad, culture-mad, and Heaven only knows what else. The +women of our set are idle, luxurious, selfish, pleasure-craving, lazy, +useless, work-and-children shirking, absolutely no good.” + +“Well, if we are, who’s to blame?” rejoined Eleanor, spiritedly. “Now, +Carley Burch, you listen to me. I think the twentieth-century girl in +America is the most wonderful female creation of all the ages of the +universe. I admit it. That is why we are a prey to the evils attending +greatness. Listen. Here is a crying sin—an infernal paradox. Take this +twentieth-century girl, this American girl who is the finest creation +of the ages. A young and healthy girl, the most perfect type of culture +possible to the freest and greatest city on earth—New York! She holds +absolutely an unreal, untrue position in the scheme of existence. +Surrounded by parents, relatives, friends, suitors, and instructive +schools of every kind, colleges, institutions, is she really happy, is +she really living?” + +“Eleanor,” interrupted Carley, earnestly, “she is _not_.... And I’ve +been trying to tell you why.” + +“My dear, let me get a word in, will you,” complained Eleanor. “You +don’t know it all. There are as many different points of view as there +are people.... Well, if this girl happened to have a new frock, and a +new beau to show it to, she’d say, ‘I’m the happiest girl in the +world.’ But she is nothing of the kind. Only she doesn’t know that. She +approaches marriage, or, for that matter, a more matured life, having +had too much, having been too well taken care of, _knowing too much_. +Her masculine satellites—father, brothers, uncles, friends, lovers—all +utterly spoil her. Mind you, I mean, girls like us, of the middle +class—which is to say the largest and best class of Americans. We are +spoiled.... This girl marries. And life goes on smoothly, as if its aim +was to exclude friction and effort. Her husband makes it too easy for +her. She is an ornament, or a toy, to be kept in a luxurious cage. To +soil her pretty hands would be disgraceful! Even if she can’t afford a +maid, the modern devices of science make the care of her four-room +apartment a farce. Electric dish-washer, clothes-washer, +vacuum-cleaner, and the near-by delicatessen and the caterer simply rob +a young wife of her housewifely heritage. If she has a baby—which +happens occasionally, Carley, in spite of your assertion—it very soon +goes to the kindergarten. Then what does she find to do with hours and +hours? If she is not married, what on earth _can_ she find to do?” + +“She can work,” replied Carley, bluntly. + +“Oh yes, she can, but she doesn’t,” went on Eleanor. “_You_ don’t work. +I never did. We both hated the idea. You’re calling spades spades, +Carley, but you seem to be riding a morbid, impractical thesis. Well, +our young American girl or bride goes in for being rushed or she goes +in for fads, the ultra stuff you mentioned. New York City gets all the +great artists, lecturers, and surely the great fakirs. The New York +women support them. The men laugh, but they furnish the money. They +take the women to the theaters, but they cut out the reception to a +Polish princess, a lecture by an Indian magician and mystic, or a +benefit luncheon for a Home for Friendless Cats. The truth is most of +our young girls or brides have a wonderful enthusiasm worthy of a +better cause. What is to become of their surplus energy, the +bottled-lightning spirit so characteristic of modern girls? Where is +the outlet for intense feelings? What use can they make of education or +of gifts? They just can’t, that’s all. I’m not taking into +consideration the new-woman species, the faddist or the reformer. I +mean normal girls like you and me. Just think, Carley. A girl’s every +wish, every need, is almost instantly satisfied without the slightest +effort on her part to obtain it. No struggle, let alone work! If women +crave to achieve something outside of the arts, you know, something +universal and helpful which will make men acknowledge her worth, if not +the equality, where is the opportunity?” + +“Opportunities should be _made_,” replied Carley. + +“There are a million sides to this question of the modern young +woman—the _fin-de-siècle_ girl. I’m for her!” + +“How about the extreme of style in dress for this +remarkably-to-be-pitied American girl you champion so eloquently?” +queried Carley, sarcastically. + +“Immoral!” exclaimed Eleanor with frank disgust. + +“You admit it?” + +“To my shame, I do.” + +“Why do women wear extreme clothes? Why do you and I wear open-work +silk stockings, skirts to our knees, gowns without sleeves or bodices?” + +“We’re slaves to fashion,” replied Eleanor, “That’s the popular +excuse.” + +“Bah!” exclaimed Carley. + +Eleanor laughed in spite of being half nettled. “Are you going to stop +wearing what all the other women wear—and be looked at askance? Are you +going to be dowdy and frumpy and old-fashioned?” + +“No. But I’ll never wear anything again that can be called immoral. I +want to be able to say _why_ I wear a dress. You haven’t answered my +question yet. Why do you wear what you frankly admit is disgusting?” + +“I don’t know, Carley,” replied Eleanor, helplessly. “How you harp on +things! We must dress to make other women jealous and to attract men. +To be a sensation! Perhaps the word ‘immoral’ is not what I mean. A +woman will be shocking in her obsession to attract, but hardly more +than that, if she knows it.” + +“Ah! So few women realize how they actually do look. Haze Ruff could +tell them.” + +“Haze Ruff. Who in the world is he or she?” asked Eleanor. + +“Haze Ruff is a he, all right,” replied Carley, grimly. + +“Well, who is he?” + +“A sheep-dipper in Arizona,” answered Carley, dreamily. + +“Humph! And what can Mr. Ruff tell us?” + +“He told _me_ I looked like one of the devil’s angels—and that I +dressed to knock the daylights out of men.” + +“Well, Carley Burch, if that isn’t rich!” exclaimed Eleanor, with a +peal of laughter. “I dare say you appreciate that as an original +compliment.” + +“No.... I wonder what Ruff would say about jazz—I just wonder,” +murmured Carley. + +“Well, I wouldn’t care what he said, and I don’t care what _you_ say,” +returned Eleanor. “The preachers and reformers and bishops and rabbis +make me sick. They rave about jazz. Jazz—the discordant note of our +decadence! Jazz—the harmonious expression of our musicless, mindless, +soulless materialism!—The idiots! If they could be women for a while +they would realize the error of their ways. But they will never, never +abolish jazz—_never_, for it is the grandest, the most wonderful, the +most absolutely necessary thing for women in this terrible age of +smotheration.” + +“All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not +agree,” said Carley. “You leave the future of women to chance, to life, +to materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it +to free will and idealism.” + +“Carley, you are getting a little beyond me,” declared Eleanor, +dubiously. + +“What are you going to _do?_ It all comes home to each individual +woman. Her attitude toward life.” + +“I’ll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good sport,” +replied Eleanor, smiling. + +“You don’t care about the women and children of the future? You’ll not +deny yourself now, and think and work, and suffer a little, in the +interest of future humanity?” + +“How you put things, Carley!” exclaimed Eleanor, wearily. “Of course I +care—when you make me think of such things. But what have _I_ to do +with the lives of people in the years to come?” + +“Everything. America for Americans! While you dawdle, the life blood is +being sucked out of our great nation. It is a man’s job to fight; it is +a woman’s to save.... I think you’ve made your choice, though you don’t +realize it. I’m praying to God that I’ll rise to mine.” + + +Carley had a visitor one morning earlier than the usual or conventional +time for calls. + +“He wouldn’t give no name,” said the maid. “He wears soldier clothes, +ma’am, and he’s pale, and walks with a cane.” + +“Tell him I’ll be right down,” replied Carley. + +Her hands trembled while she hurriedly dressed. Could this caller be +Virgil Rust? She hoped so, but she doubted. + +As she entered the parlor a tall young man in worn khaki rose to meet +her. At first glance she could not name him, though she recognized the +pale face and light-blue eyes, direct and steady. + +“Good morning, Miss Burch,” he said. “I hope you’ll excuse so early a +call. You remember me, don’t you? I’m George Burton, who had the bunk +next to Rust’s.” + +“Surely I remember you, Mr. Burton, and I’m glad to see you,” replied +Carley, shaking hands with him. “Please sit down. Your being here must +mean you’re discharged from the hospital.” + +“Yes, I was discharged, all right,” he said. + +“Which means you’re well again. That is fine. I’m very glad.” + +“I was put out to make room for a fellow in bad shape. I’m still shaky +and weak,” he replied. “But I’m glad to go. I’ve pulled through pretty +good, and it’ll not be long until I’m strong again. It was the ‘flu’ +that kept me down.” + +“You must be careful. May I ask where you’re going and what you expect +to do?” + +“Yes, that’s what I came to tell you,” he replied, frankly. “I want you +to help me a little. I’m from Illinois and my people aren’t so badly +off. But I don’t want to go back to my home town down and out, you +know. Besides, the winters are cold there. The doctor advises me to go +to a little milder climate. You see, I was gassed, and got the ‘flu’ +afterward. But I know I’ll be all right if I’m careful.... Well, I’ve +always had a leaning toward agriculture, and I want to go to Kansas. +Southern Kansas. I want to travel around till I find a place I like, +and there I’ll get a job. Not too hard a job at first—that’s why I’ll +need a little money. I know what to do. I want to lose myself in the +wheat country and forget the—the war. I’ll not be afraid of work, +presently.... Now, Miss Burch, you’ve been so kind—I’m going to ask you +to lend me a little money. I’ll pay it back. I can’t promise just when. +But some day. Will you?” + +“Assuredly I will,” she replied, heartily. “I’m happy to have the +opportunity to help you. How much will you need for immediate use? Five +hundred dollars?” + +“Oh no, not so much as that,” he replied. “Just railroad fare home, and +then to Kansas, and to pay board while I get well, you know, and look +around.” + +“We’ll make it five hundred, anyway,” she replied, and, rising, she +went toward the library. “Excuse me a moment.” She wrote the check and, +returning, gave it to him. + +“You’re very good,” he said, rather low. + +“Not at all,” replied Carley. “You have no idea how much it means to me +to be permitted to help you. Before I forget, I must ask you, can you +cash that check here in New York?” + +“Not unless you identify me,” he said, ruefully, “I don’t know anyone I +could ask.” + +“Well, when you leave here go at once to my bank—it’s on Thirty-fourth +Street—and I’ll telephone the cashier. So you’ll not have any +difficulty. Will you leave New York at once?” + +“I surely will. It’s an awful place. Two years ago when I came here +with my company I thought it was grand. But I guess I lost something +over there. ... I want to be where it’s quiet. Where I won’t see many +people.” + +“I think I understand,” returned Carley. “Then I suppose you’re in a +hurry to get home? Of course you have a girl you’re just dying to see?” + +“No, I’m sorry to say I haven’t,” he replied, simply. “I was glad I +didn’t have to leave a sweetheart behind, when I went to France. But it +wouldn’t be so bad to have one to go back to now.” + +“Don’t you worry!” exclaimed Carley. “You can take your choice +presently. You have the open sesame to every real American girl’s +heart.” + +“And what is that?” he asked, with a blush. + +“Your service to your country,” she said, gravely. + +“Well,” he said, with a singular bluntness, “considering I didn’t get +any medals or bonuses, I’d like to draw a nice girl.” + +“You will,” replied Carley, and made haste to change the subject. “By +the way, did you meet Glenn Kilbourne in France?” + +“Not that I remember,” rejoined Burton, as he got up, rising rather +stiffly by aid of his cane. “I must go, Miss Burch. Really I can’t +thank you enough. And I’ll never forget it.” + +“Will you write me how you are getting along?” asked Carley, offering +her hand. + +“Yes.” + +Carley moved with him out into the hall and to the door. There was a +question she wanted to ask, but found it strangely difficult of +utterance. At the door Burton fixed a rather penetrating gaze upon her. + +“You didn’t ask me about Rust,” he said. + +“No, I—I didn’t think of him—until now, in fact,” Carley lied. + +“Of course then you couldn’t have heard about him. I was wondering.” + +“I have heard nothing.” + +“It was Rust who told me to come to you,” said Burton. “We were talking +one day, and he—well, he thought you were true blue. He said he knew +you’d trust me and lend me money. I couldn’t have asked you but for +him.” + +“True blue! He believed that. I’m glad.... Has he spoken of me to you +since I was last at the hospital?” + +“Hardly,” replied Burton, with the straight, strange glance on her +again. + +Carley met this glance and suddenly a coldness seemed to envelop her. +It did not seem to come from within though her heart stopped beating. +Burton had not changed—the warmth, the gratitude still lingered about +him. But the light of his eyes! Carley had seen it in Glenn’s, in +Rust’s—a strange, questioning, far-off light, infinitely aloof and +unutterably sad. Then there came a lift of her heart that released a +pang. She whispered with dread, with a tremor, with an instinct of +calamity. + +“How about—Rust?” + +“He’s dead.” + + +The winter came, with its bleak sea winds and cold rains and blizzards +of snow. Carley did not go South. She read and brooded, and gradually +avoided all save those true friends who tolerated her. + +She went to the theater a good deal, showing preference for the drama +of strife, and she did not go anywhere for amusement. Distraction and +amusement seemed to be dead issues for her. But she could become +absorbed in any argument on the good or evil of the present day. +Socialism reached into her mind, to be rejected. She had never +understood it clearly, but it seemed to her a state of mind where +dissatisfied men and women wanted to share what harder working or more +gifted people possessed. There were a few who had too much of the +world’s goods and many who had too little. A readjustment of such +inequality and injustice must come, but Carley did not see the remedy +in Socialism. + +She devoured books on the war with a morbid curiosity and hope that she +would find some illuminating truth as to the uselessness of sacrificing +young men in the glory and prime of their lives. To her war appeared a +matter of human nature rather than politics. Hate really was an effect +of war. In her judgment future wars could be avoided only in two +ways—by men becoming honest and just or by women refusing to have +children to be sacrificed. As there seemed no indication whatever of +the former, she wondered how soon all women of all races would meet on +a common height, with the mounting spirit that consumed her own heart. +Such time must come. She granted every argument for war and flung +against it one ringing passionate truth—agony of mangled soldiers and +agony of women and children. There was no justification for offensive +war. It was monstrous and hideous. If nature and evolution proved the +absolute need of strife, war, blood, and death in the progress of +animal and man toward perfection, then it would be better to abandon +this Christless code and let the race of man die out. + +All through these weeks she longed for a letter from Glenn. But it did +not come. Had he finally roused to the sweetness and worth and love of +the western girl, Flo Hutter? Carley knew absolutely, through both +intelligence and intuition, that Glenn Kilbourne would never love Flo. +Yet such was her intensity and stress at times, especially in the +darkness of waking hours, that jealousy overcame her and insidiously +worked its havoc. Peace and a strange kind of joy came to her in dreams +of her walks and rides and climbs in Arizona, of the lonely canyon +where it always seemed afternoon, of the tremendous colored vastness of +that Painted Desert. But she resisted these dreams now because when she +awoke from them she suffered such a yearning that it became unbearable. +Then she knew the feeling of the loneliness and solitude of the hills. +Then she knew the sweetness of the murmur of falling water, the wind in +the pines, the song of birds, the white radiance of the stars, the +break of day and its gold-flushed close. But she had not yet divined +their meaning. It was not all love for Glenn Kilbourne. Had city life +palled upon her solely because of the absence of her lover? So Carley +plodded on, like one groping in the night, fighting shadows. + +One day she received a card from an old schoolmate, a girl who had +married out of Carley’s set, and had been ostracized. She was living +down on Long Island, at a little country place named Wading River. Her +husband was an electrician—something of an inventor. He worked hard. A +baby boy had just come to them. Would not Carley run down on the train +to see the youngster? + +That was a strong and trenchant call. Carley went. She found indeed a +country village, and on the outskirts of it a little cottage that must +have been pretty in summer, when the green was on vines and trees. Her +old schoolmate was rosy, plump, bright-eyed, and happy. She saw in +Carley no change—a fact that somehow rebounded sweetly on Carley’s +consciousness. Elsie prattled of herself and her husband and how they +had worked to earn this little home, and then the baby. + +When Carley saw the adorable dark-eyed, pink-toed, curly-fisted baby +she understood Elsie’s happiness and reveled in it. When she felt the +soft, warm, living little body in her arms, against her breast, then +she absorbed some incalculable and mysterious strength. What were the +trivial, sordid, and selfish feelings that kept her in tumult compared +to this welling emotion? Had she the secret in her arms? Babies and +Carley had never become closely acquainted in those infrequent meetings +that were usually the result of chance. But Elsie’s baby nestled to her +breast and cooed to her and clung to her finger. When at length the +youngster was laid in his crib it seemed to Carley that the fragrance +and the soul of him remained with her. + +“A real American boy!” she murmured. + +“You can just bet he is,” replied Elsie. “Carley, you ought to see his +dad.” + +“I’d like to meet him,” said Carley, thoughtfully. “Elsie, was he in +the service?” + +“Yes. He was on one of the navy transports that took munitions to +France. Think of me, carrying this baby, with my husband on a boat full +of explosives and with German submarines roaming the ocean! Oh, it was +horrible!” + +“But he came back, and now all’s well with you,” said Carley, with a +smile of earnestness. “I’m very glad, Elsie.” + +“Yes—but I shudder when I think of a possible war in the future. I’m +going to raise boys, and girls, too, I hope—and the thought of war is +torturing.” + +Carley found her return train somewhat late, and she took advantage of +the delay to walk out to the wooded headlands above the Sound. + +It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray +sky. Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places. This bit of +woodland had a floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley’s feet. There +were sere and brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks. At +length Carley came out on the edge of the bluff with the gray expanse +of sea beneath her, and a long wandering shore line, ragged with +wreckage or driftwood. The surge of water rolled in—a long, low, white, +creeping line that softly roared on the beach and dragged the pebbles +gratingly back. There was neither boat nor living creature in sight. + +Carley felt the scene ease a clutching hand within her breast. Here was +loneliness and solitude vastly different from that of Oak Creek Canyon, +yet it held the same intangible power to soothe. The swish of the surf, +the moan of the wind in the evergreens, were voices that called to her. +How many more miles of lonely land than peopled cities! Then the +sea—how vast! And over that the illimitable and infinite sky, and +beyond, the endless realms of space. It helped her somehow to see and +hear and feel the eternal presence of nature. In communion with nature +the significance of life might be realized. She remembered Glenn +quoting: “The world is too much with us. ... Getting and spending, we +lay waste our powers.” What were our powers? What did God intend men to +do with hands and bodies and gifts and souls? She gazed back over the +bleak land and then out across the broad sea. Only a millionth part of +the surface of the unsubmerged earth knew the populous abodes of man. +And the lonely sea, inhospitable to stable homes of men, was thrice the +area of the land. Were men intended, then, to congregate in few places, +to squabble and to bicker and breed the discontents that led to +injustice, hatred, and war? What a mystery it all was! But Nature was +neither false nor little, however cruel she might be. + + +Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal. Wavering now, +restless and sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of +apathy, she was wearing to defeat. + +That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for +Arizona, she wished to spend alone. But her thoughts grew unbearable. +She summed up the endless year. Could she live another like it? +Something must break within her. + +She went out. The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current +which caused the mild madness of spring fever. In the Park the greening +of the grass, the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness +of children, the light on the water, the warm sun—all seemed to +reproach her. Carley fled from the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; +and there, unhappily, she encountered those of her acquaintance with +whom she had least patience. They forced her to think too keenly of +herself. They appeared carefree while she was miserable. + +Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism. When +Carley entered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur. + +“Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces,” called out Geralda Conners, a +fair, handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the latest +mode, and whose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one +of health. + +“Say what, Geralda?” asked Carley. “I certainly would not say anything +behind your backs that I wouldn’t repeat here.” + +“Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up.” + +“We did have an argument. And I’m not sure I said all I wanted to.” + +“Say the rest here,” drawled a lazy, mellow voice. “For Heaven’s sake, +stir us up. If I could get a kick out of _anything_ I’d bless it.” + +“Carley, go on the stage,” advised another. “You’ve got Elsie Ferguson +tied to the mast for looks. And lately you’re surely tragic enough.” + +“I wish you’d go somewhere far off!” observed a third. “My husband is +dippy about you.” + +“Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in +your heads?” retorted Carley. + +“Sensible? I should hope not. Who wants to be sensible?” + +Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer. “Listen,” she called. “I +wasn’t kidding Carley. I am good and sore. She goes around knocking +everybody and saying New York backs Sodom off the boards. I want her to +come out with it right here.” + +“I dare say I’ve talked too much,” returned Carley. “It’s been a rather +hard winter on me. Perhaps, indeed, I’ve tried the patience of my +friends.” + +“See here, Carley,” said Geralda, deliberately, “just because you’ve +had life turn to bitter ashes in your mouth you’ve no right to poison +it for us. We all find it pretty sweet. You’re an _un_satisfied woman +and if you don’t marry somebody you’ll end by being a reformer or +fanatic.” + +“I’d rather end that way than rot in a shell,” retorted Carley. + +“I declare, you make me see red, Carley,” flashed Geralda, angrily. “No +wonder Morrison roasts you to everybody. He says Glenn Kilbourne threw +you down for some Western girl. If that’s true it’s pretty small of you +to vent your spleen on us.” + +Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda +Conners was nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt. + +“I have no spleen,” she replied, with a dignity of passion. “I have +only pity. I was as blind as you. If heartbreak tore the scales from my +eyes, perhaps that is well for me. For I see something terribly wrong +in myself, in you, in all of us, in the life of today.” + +“You keep your pity to yourself. You need it,” answered Geralda, with +heat. “There’s nothing wrong with me or my friends or life in good old +New York.” + +“Nothing wrong!” cried Carley. “Listen. Nothing wrong in you or life +today—nothing for you women to make right? You are blind as bats—as +dead to living truth as if you were buried. Nothing wrong when +thousands of crippled soldiers have no homes—no money—no friends—no +work—in many cases no food or bed?... Splendid young men who went away +in their prime to fight for _you_ and came back ruined, suffering! +Nothing wrong when sane women with the vote might rid politics of +partisanship, greed, crookedness? Nothing wrong when prohibition is +mocked by women—when the greatest boon ever granted this country is +derided and beaten down and cheated? Nothing wrong when there are half +a million defective children in this city? Nothing wrong when there are +not enough schools and teachers to educate our boys and girls, when +those teachers are shamefully underpaid? Nothing wrong when the mothers +of this great country let their youngsters go to the dark motion +picture halls and night after night in thousands of towns over all this +broad land see pictures that the juvenile court and the educators and +keepers of reform schools say make burglars, crooks, and murderers of +our boys and vampires of our girls? Nothing wrong when these young +adolescent girls ape _you_ and wear stockings rolled under their knees +below their skirts and use a lip stick and paint their faces and darken +their eyes and pluck their eyebrows and absolutely do not know what +shame is? Nothing wrong when you may find in any city women standing at +street corners distributing booklets on birth control? Nothing wrong +when great magazines print no page or picture without its sex appeal? +Nothing wrong when the automobile, so convenient for the innocent +little run out of town, presents the greatest evil that ever menaced +American girls! Nothing wrong when money is god—when luxury, pleasure, +excitement, speed are the striven for? Nothing wrong when some of your +husbands spend more of their time with other women than with you? +Nothing wrong with jazz—where the lights go out in the dance hall and +the dancers jiggle and toddle and wiggle in a frenzy? Nothing wrong in +a country where the greatest college cannot report birth of one child +to each graduate in ten years? Nothing wrong with race suicide and the +incoming horde of foreigners?... Nothing wrong with you women who +cannot or will not stand childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of you, +when if you _did_ have a child, you could not nurse it?... Oh, my God, +there’s nothing wrong with America except that she staggers under a +Titanic burden that only mothers of sons can remove!... You doll women, +you parasites, you toys of men, you silken-wrapped geisha girls, you +painted, idle, purring cats, you parody of the females of your +species—find brains enough if you can to see the doom hanging over you +and revolt before it is too late!” + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Carley burst in upon her aunt. + +“Look at me, Aunt Mary!” she cried, radiant and exultant. “I’m going +back out West to marry Glenn and live his life!” + +The keen old eyes of her aunt softened and dimmed. “Dear Carley, I’ve +known that for a long time. You’ve found yourself at last.” + +Then Carley breathlessly babbled her hastily formed plans, every word +of which seemed to rush her onward. + +“You’re going to surprise Glenn again?” queried Aunt Mary. + +“Oh, I must! I want to see his face when I tell him.” + +“Well, I hope he won’t surprise _you_,” declared the old lady. “When +did you hear from him last?” + +“In January. It seems ages—but—Aunt Mary, you don’t imagine Glenn—” + +“I imagine nothing,” interposed her aunt. “It will turn out happily and +I’ll have some peace in my old age. But, Carley, what’s to become of +me?” + +“Oh, I never thought!” replied Carley, blankly. “It will be lonely for +you. Auntie, I’ll come back in the fall for a few weeks. Glenn will let +me.” + +“_Let_ you? Ye gods! So you’ve come to that? Imperious Carley Burch!... +Thank Heaven, you’ll now be satisfied to be let do things.” + +“I’d—I’d crawl for him,” breathed Carley. + +“Well, child, as you can’t be practical, I’ll have to be,” replied Aunt +Mary, seriously. “Fortunately for you I am a woman of quick decision. +Listen. I’ll go West with you. I want to see the Grand Canyon. Then +I’ll go on to California, where I have old friends I’ve not seen for +years. When you get your new home all fixed up I’ll spend awhile with +you. And if I want to come back to New York now and then I’ll go to a +hotel. It is settled. I think the change will benefit me.” + +“Auntie, you make me very happy. I could ask no more,” said Carley. + + +Swiftly as endless tasks could make them the days passed. But those on +the train dragged interminably. + +Carley sent her aunt through to the Canyon while she stopped off at +Flagstaff to store innumerable trunks and bags. The first news she +heard of Glenn and the Hutters was that they had gone to the Tonto +Basin to buy hogs and would be absent at least a month. This gave birth +to a new plan in Carley’s mind. She would doubly surprise Glenn. +Wherefore she took council with some Flagstaff business men and engaged +them to set a force of men at work on the Deep Lake property, making +the improvements she desired, and hauling lumber, cement, bricks, +machinery, supplies—all the necessaries for building construction. Also +she instructed them to throw up a tent house for her to live in during +the work, and to engage a reliable Mexican man with his wife for +servants. When she left for the Canyon she was happier than ever before +in her life. + + +It was near the coming of sunset when Carley first looked down into the +Grand Canyon. She had forgotten Glenn’s tribute to this place. In her +rapturous excitement of preparation and travel the Canyon had been +merely a name. But now she saw it and she was stunned. + +What a stupendous chasm, gorgeous in sunset color on the heights, +purpling into mystic shadows in the depths! There was a wonderful +brightness of all the millions of red and yellow and gray surfaces +still exposed to the sun. Carley did not feel a thrill, because feeling +seemed inhibited. She looked and looked, yet was reluctant to keep on +looking. She possessed no image in mind with which to compare this +grand and mystic spectacle. A transformation of color and shade +appeared to be going on swiftly, as if gods were changing the scenes of +a Titanic stage. As she gazed the dark fringed line of the north rim +turned to burnished gold, and she watched that with fascinated eyes. It +turned rose, it lost its fire, it faded to quiet cold gray. The sun had +set. + +Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim. There was a +sweet tang of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance +peculiar to the canyon country of Arizona. How it brought back to +Carley remembrance of Oak Creek! In the west, across the purple notches +of the abyss, a dull gold flare showed where the sun had gone down. + +In the morning at eight o’clock there were great irregular black +shadows under the domes and peaks and escarpments. Bright Angel Canyon +was all dark, showing dimly its ragged lines. At noon there were no +shadows and all the colossal gorge lay glaring under the sun. In the +evening Carley watched the Canyon as again the sun was setting. + +Deep dark-blue shadows, like purple sails of immense ships, in +wonderful contrast with the bright sunlit slopes, grew and rose toward +the east, down the canyons and up the walls that faced the west. For a +long while there was no red color, and the first indication of it was a +dull bronze. Carley looked down into the void, at the sailing birds, at +the precipitous slopes, and the dwarf spruces and the weathered old +yellow cliffs. When she looked up again the shadows out there were no +longer dark. They were clear. The slopes and depths and ribs of rock +could be seen through them. Then the tips of the highest peaks and +domes turned bright red. Far to the east she discerned a strange +shadow, slowly turning purple. One instant it grew vivid, then began to +fade. Soon after that all the colors darkened and slowly the pale gray +stole over all. + +At night Carley gazed over and into the black void. But for the awful +sense of depth she would not have known the Canyon to be there. A +soundless movement of wind passed under her. The chasm seemed a grave +of silence. It was as mysterious as the stars and as aloof and as +inevitable. It had held her senses of beauty and proportion in +abeyance. + +At another sunrise the crown of the rim, a broad belt of bare rock, +turned pale gold under its fringed dark line of pines. The tips of the +peak gleamed opal. There was no sunrise red, no fire. The light in the +east was a pale gold under a steely green-blue sky. All the abyss of +the Canyon was soft, gray, transparent, and the belt of gold broadened +downward, making shadows on the west slopes of the mesas and +escarpments. Far down in the shadows she discerned the river, yellow, +turgid, palely gleaming. By straining her ears Carley heard a low dull +roar as of distant storm. She stood fearfully at the extreme edge of a +stupendous cliff, where it sheered dark and forbidding, down and down, +into what seemed red and boundless depths of Hades. She saw gold spots +of sunlight on the dark shadows, proving that somewhere, impossible to +discover, the sun was shining through wind-worn holes in the sharp +ridges. Every instant Carley grasped a different effect. Her studied +gaze absorbed an endless changing. And at last she realized that sun +and light and stars and moon and night and shade, all working +incessantly and mutably over shapes and lines and angles and surfaces +too numerous and too great for the sight of man to hold, made an +ever-changing spectacle of supreme beauty and colorful grandeur. + +She talked very little while at the Canyon. It silenced her. She had +come to see it at the critical time of her life and in the right mood. +The superficialities of the world shrunk to their proper +insignificance. Once she asked her aunt: “Why did not Glenn bring me +here?” As if this Canyon proved the nature of all things! + +But in the end Carley found that the rending strife of the +transformation of her attitude toward life had insensibly ceased. It +had ceased during the long watching of this cataclysm of nature, this +canyon of gold-banded black-fringed ramparts, and red-walled mountains +which sloped down to be lost in purple depths. That was final proof of +the strength of nature to soothe, to clarify, to stabilize the tried +and weary and upward-gazing soul. Stronger than the recorded deeds of +saints, stronger than the eloquence of the gifted uplifters of men, +stronger than any words ever written, was the grand, brooding, +sculptured aspect of nature. And it must have been so because thousands +of years before the age of saints or preachers—before the fret and +symbol and figure were cut in stone—man must have watched with +thought-developing sight the wonders of the earth, the monuments of +time, the glooming of the dark-blue sea, the handiwork of God. + + +In May, Carley returned to Flagstaff to take up with earnest +inspiration the labors of homebuilding in a primitive land. + +It required two trucks to transport her baggage and purchases out to +Deep Lake. The road was good for eighteen miles of the distance, until +it branched off to reach her land, and from there it was desert rock +and sand. But eventually they made it; and Carley found herself and +belongings dumped out into the windy and sunny open. The moment was +singularly thrilling and full of transport. She was free. She had +shaken off the shackles. She faced lonely, wild, barren desert that +must be made habitable by the genius of her direction and the labor of +her hands. Always a thought of Glenn hovered tenderly, dreamily in the +back of her consciousness, but she welcomed the opportunity to have a +few weeks of work and activity and solitude before taking up her life +with him. She wanted to adapt herself to the metamorphosis that had +been wrought in her. + +To her amazement and delight, a very considerable progress had been +made with her plans. Under a sheltered red cliff among the cedars had +been erected the tents where she expected to live until the house was +completed. These tents were large, with broad floors high off the +ground, and there were four of them. Her living tent had a porch under +a wide canvas awning. The bed was a boxlike affair, raised off the +floor two feet, and it contained a great, fragrant mass of cedar boughs +upon which the blankets were to be spread. At one end was a dresser +with large mirror, and a chiffonier. There were table and lamp, a low +rocking chair, a shelf for books, a row of hooks upon which to hang +things, a washstand with its necessary accessories, a little stove and +a neat stack of cedar chips and sticks. Navajo rugs on the floor lent +brightness and comfort. + +Carley heard the rustling of cedar branches over her head, and saw +where they brushed against the tent roof. It appeared warm and fragrant +inside, and protected from the wind, and a subdued white light filtered +through the canvas. Almost she felt like reproving herself for the +comfort surrounding her. For she had come West to welcome the hard +knocks of primitive life. + +It took less than an hour to have her trunks stored in one of the spare +tents, and to unpack clothes and necessaries for immediate use. Carley +donned the comfortable and somewhat shabby outdoor garb she had worn at +Oak Creek the year before; and it seemed to be the last thing needed to +make her fully realize the glorious truth of the present. + +“I’m here,” she said to her pale, yet happy face in the mirror. “The +impossible has happened. I have accepted Glenn’s life. I have answered +that strange call out of the West.” + +She wanted to throw herself on the sunlit woolly blankets of her bed +and hug them, to think and think of the bewildering present happiness, +to dream of the future, but she could not lie or sit still, nor keep +her mind from grasping at actualities and possibilities of this place, +nor her hands from itching to do things. + +It developed, presently, that she could not have idled away the time +even if she had wanted to, for the Mexican woman came for her, with +smiling gesticulation and jabber that manifestly meant dinner. Carley +could not understand many Mexican words, and herein she saw another +task. This swarthy woman and her sloe-eyed husband favorably impressed +Carley. + +Next to claim her was Hoyle, the superintendent. “Miss Burch,” he said, +“in the early days we could run up a log cabin in a jiffy. Axes, +horses, strong arms, and a few pegs—that was all we needed. But this +house you’ve planned is different. It’s good you’ve come to take the +responsibility.” + +Carley had chosen the site for her home on top of the knoll where Glenn +had taken her to show her the magnificent view of mountains and desert. +Carley climbed it now with beating heart and mingled emotions. A +thousand times already that day, it seemed, she had turned to gaze up +at the noble white-clad peaks. They were closer now, apparently looming +over her, and she felt a great sense of peace and protection in the +thought that they would always be there. But she had not yet seen the +desert that had haunted her for a year. When she reached the summit of +the knoll and gazed out across the open space it seemed that she must +stand spellbound. How green the cedared foreground—how gray and barren +the downward slope—how wonderful the painted steppes! The vision that +had lived in her memory shrank to nothingness. The reality was immense, +more than beautiful, appalling in its isolation, beyond comprehension +with its lure and strength to uplift. + +But the superintendent drew her attention to the business at hand. + +Carley had planned an L-shaped house of one story. Some of her ideas +appeared to be impractical, and these she abandoned. The framework was +up and half a dozen carpenters were lustily at work with saw and +hammer. + +“We’d made better progress if this house was in an ordinary place,” +explained Hoyle. “But you see the wind blows here, so the framework had +to be made as solid and strong as possible. In fact, it’s bolted to the +sills.” + +Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted +Desert could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole +of the San Francisco Mountains. Both rooms were to have open +fireplaces. Carley’s idea was for service and durability. She thought +of comfort in the severe winters of that high latitude, but elegance +and luxury had no more significance in her life. + +Hoyle made his suggestions as to changes and adaptations, and, +receiving her approval, he went on to show her what had been already +accomplished. Back on higher ground a reservoir of concrete was being +constructed near an ever-flowing spring of snow water from the peaks. +This water was being piped by gravity to the house, and was a matter of +greatest satisfaction to Hoyle, for he claimed that it would never +freeze in winter, and would be cold and abundant during the hottest and +driest of summers. This assurance solved the most difficult and serious +problem of ranch life in the desert. + +Next Hoyle led Carley down off the knoll to the wide cedar valley +adjacent to the lake. He was enthusiastic over its possibilities. Two +small corrals and a large one had been erected, the latter having a low +flat barn connected with it. Ground was already being cleared along the +lake where alfalfa and hay were to be raised. Carley saw the blue and +yellow smoke from burning brush, and the fragrant odor thrilled her. +Mexicans were chopping the cleared cedars into firewood for winter use. + +The day was spent before she realized it. At sunset the carpenters and +mechanics left in two old Ford cars for town. The Mexicans had a camp +in the cedars, and the Hoyles had theirs at the spring under the knoll +where Carley had camped with Glenn and the Hutters. Carley watched the +golden rosy sunset, and as the day ended she breathed deeply as if in +unutterable relief. Supper found her with appetite she had long since +lost. Twilight brought cold wind, the staccato bark of coyotes, the +flicker of camp fires through the cedars. She tried to embrace all her +sensations, but they were so rapid and many that she failed. + +The cold, clear, silent night brought back the charm of the desert. How +flaming white the stars! The great spire-pointed peaks lifted cold +pale-gray outlines up into the deep star-studded sky. Carley walked a +little to and fro, loath to go to her tent, though tired. She wanted +calm. But instead of achieving calmness she grew more and more towards +a strange state of exultation. + +Westward, only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, lay the deep rent in +the level desert—Oak Creek Canyon. If Glenn had been there this night +would have been perfect, yet almost unendurable. She was again grateful +for his absence. What a surprise she had in store for him! And she +imagined his face in its change of expression when she met him. If only +he never learned of her presence in Arizona until she made it known in +person! That she most longed for. Chances were against it, but then her +luck had changed. She looked to the eastward where a pale luminosity of +afterglow shone in the heavens. Far distant seemed the home of her +childhood, the friends she had scorned and forsaken, the city of +complaining and striving millions. If only some miracle might illumine +the minds of her friends, as she felt that hers was to be illumined +here in the solitude. But she well realized that not all problems could +be solved by a call out of the West. Any open and lonely land that +might have saved Glenn Kilbourne would have sufficed for her. It was +the spirit of the thing and not the letter. It was work of any kind and +not only that of ranch life. Not only the raising of hogs! + +Carley directed stumbling steps toward the light of her tent. Her eyes +had not been used to such black shadow along the ground. She had, too, +squeamish feminine fears of hydrophobia skunks, and nameless animals or +reptiles that were imagined denizens of the darkness. She gained her +tent and entered. The Mexican, Gino, as he called himself, had lighted +her lamp and fire. Carley was chilled through, and the tent felt so +warm and cozy that she could scarcely believe it. She fastened the +screen door, laced the flaps across it, except at the top, and then +gave herself up to the lulling and comforting heat. + +There were plans to perfect; innumerable things to remember; a car and +accessories, horses, saddles, outfits to buy. Carley knew she should +sit down at her table and write and figure, but she could not do it +then. + +For a long time she sat over the little stove, toasting her knees and +hands, adding some chips now and then to the red coals. And her mind +seemed a kaleidoscope of changing visions, thoughts, feelings. At last +she undressed and blew out the lamp and went to bed. + +Instantly a thick blackness seemed to enfold her and silence as of a +dead world settled down upon her. Drowsy as she was, she could not +close her eyes nor refrain from listening. Darkness and silence were +tangible things. She felt them. And they seemed suddenly potent with +magic charm to still the tumult of her, to soothe and rest, to create +thoughts she had never thought before. Rest was more than selfish +indulgence. Loneliness was necessary to gain consciousness of the soul. +Already far back in the past seemed Carley’s other life. + +By and by the dead stillness awoke to faint sounds not before +perceptible to her—a low, mournful sough of the wind in the cedars, +then the faint far-distant note of a coyote, sad as the night and +infinitely wild. + + +Days passed. Carley worked in the mornings with her hands and her +brains. In the afternoons she rode and walked and climbed with a double +object, to work herself into fit physical condition and to explore +every nook and corner of her six hundred and forty acres. + +Then what she had expected and deliberately induced by her efforts +quickly came to pass. Just as the year before she had suffered +excruciating pain from aching muscles, and saddle blisters, and walking +blisters, and a very rending of her bones, so now she fell victim to +them again. In sunshine and rain she faced the desert. Sunburn and +sting of sleet were equally to be endured. And that abomination, the +hateful blinding sandstorm, did not daunt her. But the weary hours of +abnegation to this physical torture at least held one consoling +recompense as compared with her experience of last year, and it was +that there was no one interested to watch for her weaknesses and +failures and blunders. She could fight it out alone. + +Three weeks of this self-imposed strenuous training wore by before +Carley was free enough from weariness and pain to experience other +sensations. Her general health, evidently, had not been so good as when +she had first visited Arizona. She caught cold and suffered other ills +attendant upon an abrupt change of climate and condition. But doggedly +she kept at her task. She rode when she should have been in bed; she +walked when she should have ridden; she climbed when she should have +kept to level ground. And finally by degrees so gradual as not to be +noticed except in the sum of them she began to mend. + +Meanwhile the construction of her house went on with uninterrupted +rapidity. When the low, slanting, wide-eaved roof was completed Carley +lost further concern about rainstorms. Let them come. When the plumbing +was all in and Carley saw verification of Hoyle’s assurance that it +would mean a gravity supply of water ample and continual, she lost her +last concern as to the practicability of the work. That, and the +earning of her endurance, seemed to bring closer a wonderful reward, +still nameless and spiritual, that had been unattainable, but now +breathed to her on the fragrant desert wind and in the brooding +silence. + + +The time came when each afternoon’s ride or climb called to Carley with +increasing delight. But the fact that she must soon reveal to Glenn her +presence and transformation did not seem to be all the cause. She could +ride without pain, walk without losing her breath, work without +blistering her hands; and in this there was compensation. The building +of the house that was to become a home, the development of water +resources and land that meant the making of a ranch—these did not +altogether constitute the anticipation of content. To be active, to +accomplish things, to recall to mind her knowledge of manual training, +of domestic science, of designing and painting, to learn to cook—these +were indeed measures full of reward, but they were not all. In her +wondering, pondering meditation she arrived at the point where she +tried to assign to her love the growing fullness of her life. This, +too, splendid and all-pervading as it was, she had to reject. Some +exceedingly illusive and vital significance of life had insidiously +come to Carley. + +One afternoon, with the sky full of white and black rolling clouds and +a cold wind sweeping through the cedars, she halted to rest and escape +the chilling gale for a while. In a sunny place, under the lee of a +gravel bank, she sought refuge. It was warm here because of the +reflected sunlight and the absence of wind. The sand at the bottom of +the bank held a heat that felt good to her cold hands. All about her +and over her swept the keen wind, rustling the sage, seeping the sand, +swishing the cedars, but she was out of it, protected and insulated. +The sky above showed blue between the threatening clouds. There were no +birds or living creatures in sight. Certainly the place had little of +color or beauty or grace, nor could she see beyond a few rods. Lying +there, without any particular reason that she was conscious of, she +suddenly felt shot through and through with exhilaration. + +Another day, the warmest of the spring so far, she rode a Navajo +mustang she had recently bought from a passing trader; and at the +farthest end of her section, in rough wooded and ridged ground she had +not explored, she found a canyon with red walls and pine trees and +gleaming streamlet and glades of grass and jumbles of rock. It was a +miniature canyon, to be sure, only a quarter of a mile long, and as +deep as the height of a lofty pine, and so narrow that it seemed only +the width of a lane, but it had all the features of Oak Creek Canyon, +and so sufficed for the exultant joy of possession. She explored it. +The willow brakes and oak thickets harbored rabbits and birds. She saw +the white flags of deer running away down the open. Up at the head +where the canyon boxed she flushed a flock of wild turkeys. They ran +like ostriches and flew like great brown chickens. In a cavern Carley +found the den of a bear, and in another place the bleached bones of a +steer. + +She lingered here in the shaded depths with a feeling as if she were +indeed lost to the world. These big brown and seamy-barked pines with +their spreading gnarled arms and webs of green needles belonged to her, +as also the tiny brook, the blue bells smiling out of the ferns, the +single stalk of mescal on a rocky ledge. + +Never had sun and earth, tree and rock, seemed a part of her being +until then. She would become a sun-worshiper and a lover of the earth. +That canyon had opened there to sky and light for millions of years; +and doubtless it had harbored sheep herders, Indians, cliff dwellers, +barbarians. She was a woman with white skin and a cultivated mind, but +the affinity for them existed in her. She felt it, and that an +understanding of it would be good for body and soul. + +Another day she found a little grove of jack pines growing on a flat +mesa-like bluff, the highest point on her land. The trees were small +and close together, mingling their green needles overhead and their +discarded brown ones on the ground. From here Carley could see afar to +all points of the compass—the slow green descent to the south and the +climb to the black-timbered distance; the ridged and canyoned country +to the west, red vents choked with green and rimmed with gray; to the +north the grand upflung mountain kingdom crowned with snow; and to the +east the vastness of illimitable space, the openness and wildness, the +chased and beaten mosaic of colored sands and rocks. + +Again and again she visited this lookout and came to love its +isolation, its command of wondrous prospects, its power of suggestion +to her thoughts. She became a creative being, in harmony with the live +things around her. The great life-dispensing sun poured its rays down +upon her, as if to ripen her; and the earth seemed warm, motherly, +immense with its all-embracing arms. She no longer plucked the +bluebells to press to her face, but leaned to them. Every blade of +gramma grass, with its shining bronze-tufted seed head, had +significance for her. The scents of the desert began to have meaning +for her. She sensed within her the working of a great leveling process +through which supreme happiness would come. + +June! The rich, thick, amber light, like a transparent reflection from +some intense golden medium, seemed to float in the warm air. The sky +became an azure blue. In the still noontides, when the bees hummed +drowsily and the flies buzzed, vast creamy-white columnar clouds rolled +up from the horizon, like colossal ships with bulging sails. And summer +with its rush of growing things was at hand. + +Carley rode afar, seeking in strange places the secret that eluded her. +Only a few days now until she would ride down to Oak Creek Canyon! +There was a low, singing melody of wind in the cedars. The earth became +too beautiful in her magnified sight. A great truth was dawning upon +her—that the sacrifice of what she had held as necessary to the +enjoyment of life—that the strain of conflict, the labor of hands, the +forcing of weary body, the enduring of pain, the contact with the +earth—had served somehow to rejuvenate her blood, quicken her pulse, +intensify her sensorial faculties, thrill her very soul, lead her into +the realm of enchantment. + +One afternoon a dull, lead-black-colored cinder knoll tempted her to +explore its bare heights. She rode up until her mustang sank to his +knees and could climb no farther. From there she essayed the ascent on +foot. It took labor. But at last she gained the summit, burning, +sweating, panting. + +The cinder hill was an extinct crater of a volcano. In the center of it +lay a deep bowl, wondrously symmetrical, and of a dark lusterless hue. +Not a blade of grass was there, nor a plant. Carley conceived a desire +to go to the bottom of this pit. She tried the cinders of the edge of +the slope. They had the same consistency as those of the ascent she had +overcome. But here there was a steeper incline. A tingling rush of +daring seemed to drive her over the rounded rim, and, once started +down, it was as if she wore seven-league boots. Fear left her. Only an +exhilarating emotion consumed her. If there were danger, it mattered +not. She strode down with giant steps, she plunged, she started +avalanches to ride them until they stopped, she leaped, and lastly she +fell, to roll over the soft cinders to the pit. + +There she lay. It seemed a comfortable resting place. The pit was +scarcely six feet across. She gazed upward and was astounded. How steep +was the rounded slope on all sides! There were no sides; it was a +circle. She looked up at a round lake of deep translucent sky. Such +depth of blue, such exquisite rare color! Carley imagined she could +gaze through it to the infinite beyond. + +She closed her eyes and rested. Soon the laboring of heart and breath +calmed to normal, so that she could not hear them. Then she lay +perfectly motionless. With eyes shut she seemed still to look, and what +she saw was the sunlight through the blood and flesh of her eyelids. It +was red, as rare a hue as the blue of sky. So piercing did it grow that +she had to shade her eyes with her arm. + +Again the strange, rapt glow suffused her body. Never in all her life +had she been so absolutely alone. She might as well have been in her +grave. She might have been dead to all earthy things and reveling in +spirit in the glory of the physical that had escaped her in life. And +she abandoned herself to this influence. + +She loved these dry, dusty cinders; she loved the crater here hidden +from all save birds; she loved the desert, the earth—above all, the +sun. She was a product of the earth—a creation of the sun. She had been +an infinitesimal atom of inert something that had quickened to life +under the blazing magic of the sun. Soon her spirit would abandon her +body and go on, while her flesh and bone returned to dust. This frame +of hers, that carried the divine spark, belonged to the earth. She had +only been ignorant, mindless, feelingless, absorbed in the seeking of +gain, blind to the truth. She had to give. She had been created a +woman; she belonged to nature; she was nothing save a mother of the +future. She had loved neither Glenn Kilbourne nor life itself. False +education, false standards, false environment had developed her into a +woman who imagined she must feed her body on the milk and honey of +indulgence. + +She was abased now—woman as animal, though saved and uplifted by her +power of immortality. Transcendental was her female power to link life +with the future. The power of the plant seed, the power of the earth, +the heat of the sun, the inscrutable creation-spirit of nature, almost +the divinity of God—these were all hers because she was a woman. That +was the great secret, aloof so long. That was what had been wrong with +life—the woman blind to her meaning, her power, her mastery. + +So she abandoned herself to the woman within her. She held out her arms +to the blue abyss of heaven as if to embrace the universe. She was +Nature. She kissed the dusty cinders and pressed her breast against the +warm slope. Her heart swelled to bursting with a glorious and +unutterable happiness. + + +That afternoon as the sun was setting under a gold-white scroll of +cloud Carley got back to Deep Lake. + +A familiar lounging figure crossed her sight. It approached to where +she had dismounted. Charley, the sheep herder of Oak Creek! + +“Howdy!” he drawled, with his queer smile. “So it was you-all who had +this Deep Lake section?” + +“Yes. And how are you, Charley?” she replied, shaking hands with him. + +“Me? Aw, I’m tip-top. I’m shore glad you got this ranch. Reckon I’ll +hit you for a job.” + +“I’d give it to you. But aren’t you working for the Hutters?” + +“Nope. Not any more. Me an’ Stanton had a row with them.” + +How droll and dry he was! His lean, olive-brown face, with its +guileless clear eyes and his lanky figure in blue jeans vividly +recalled Oak Creek to Carley. + +“Oh, I’m sorry,” returned she haltingly, somehow checked in her warm +rush of thought. “Stanton?... Did he quit too?” + +“Yep. He sure did.” + +“What was the trouble?” + +“Reckon because Flo made up to Kilbourne,” replied Charley, with a +grin. + +“Ah! I—I see,” murmured Carley. A blankness seemed to wave over her. It +extended to the air without, to the sense of the golden sunset. It +passed. What should she ask—what out of a thousand sudden flashing +queries? “Are—are the Hutters back?” + +“Sure. Been back several days. I reckoned Hoyle told you. Mebbe he +didn’t know, though. For nobody’s been to town.” + +“How is—how are they all?” faltered Carley. There was a strange wall +here between her thought and her utterance. + +“Everybody satisfied, I reckon,” replied Charley. + +“Flo—how is she?” burst out Carley. + +“Aw, Flo’s loony over her husband,” drawled Charley, his clear eyes on +Carley’s. + +“Husband!” she gasped. + +“Sure. Flo’s gone an’ went an’ done what I swore on.” + +“_Who?_” whispered Carley, and the query was a terrible blade piercing +her heart. + +“Now who’d you reckon on?” asked Charley, with his slow grin. + +Carley’s lips were mute. + +“Wal, it was your old beau thet you wouldn’t have,” returned Charley, +as he gathered up his long frame, evidently to leave. “Kilbourne! He +an’ Flo came back from the Tonto all hitched up.” + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Vague sense of movement, of darkness, and of cold attended Carley’s +consciousness for what seemed endless time. + +A fall over rocks and a severe thrust from a sharp branch brought an +acute appreciation of her position, if not of her mental state. Night +had fallen. The stars were out. She had stumbled over a low ledge. +Evidently she had wandered around, dazedly and aimlessly, until brought +to her senses by pain. But for a gleam of campfires through the cedars +she would have been lost. It did not matter. She was lost, anyhow. What +was it that had happened? + +Charley, the sheep herder! Then the thunderbolt of his words burst upon +her, and she collapsed to the cold stones. She lay quivering from head +to toe. She dug her fingers into the moss and lichen. “Oh, God, to +think—after all—it happened!” she moaned. There had been a rending +within her breast, as of physical violence, from which she now suffered +anguish. There were a thousand stinging nerves. There was a mortal +sickness of horror, of insupportable heartbreaking loss. She could not +endure it. She could not live under it. + +She lay there until energy supplanted shock. Then she rose to rush into +the darkest shadows of the cedars, to grope here and there, hanging her +head, wringing her hands, beating her breast. “It can’t be true,” she +cried. “Not after my struggle—my victory—not _now!_” But there had been +no victory. And now it was too late. She was betrayed, ruined, lost. +That wonderful love had wrought transformation in her—and now havoc. +Once she fell against the branches of a thick cedar that upheld her. +The fragrance which had been sweet was now bitter. Life that had been +bliss was now hateful! She could not keep still for a single moment. + +Black night, cedars, brush, rocks, washes, seemed not to obstruct her. +In a frenzy she rushed on, tearing her dress, her hands, her hair. +Violence of some kind was imperative. All at once a pale gleaming open +space, shimmering under the stars, lay before her. It was water. Deep +Lake! And instantly a hideous terrible longing to destroy herself +obsessed her. She had no fear. She could have welcomed the cold, slimy +depths that meant oblivion. But could they really bring oblivion? A +year ago she would have believed so, and would no longer have endured +such agony. She had changed. A cursed strength had come to her, and it +was this strength that now augmented her torture. She flung wide her +arms to the pitiless white stars and looked up at them. “My hope, my +faith, my love have failed me,” she whispered. “They have been a lie. I +went through hell for them. And now I’ve nothing to live for.... Oh, +let me end it all!” + +If she prayed to the stars for mercy, it was denied her. Passionlessly +they blazed on. But she could not kill herself. In that hour death +would have been the only relief and peace left to her. Stricken by the +cruelty of her fate, she fell back against the stones and gave up to +grief. Nothing was left but fierce pain. The youth and vitality and +intensity of her then locked arms with anguish and torment and a +cheated, unsatisfied love. Strength of mind and body involuntarily +resisted the ravages of this catastrophe. Will power seemed nothing, +but the flesh of her, that medium of exquisite sensation, so full of +life, so prone to joy, refused to surrender. The part of her that felt +fought terribly for its heritage. + +All night long Carley lay there. The crescent moon went down, the stars +moved on their course, the coyotes ceased to wail, the wind died away, +the lapping of the waves along the lake shore wore to gentle splash, +the whispering of the insects stopped as the cold of dawn approached. +The darkest hour fell—hour of silence, solitude, and melancholy, when +the desert lay tranced, cold, waiting, mournful without light of moon +or stars or sun. + +In the gray dawn Carley dragged her bruised and aching body back to her +tent, and, fastening the door, she threw off wet clothes and boots and +fell upon her bed. Slumber of exhaustion came to her. + +When she awoke the tent was light and the moving shadows of cedar +boughs on the white canvas told that the sun was straight above. Carley +ached as never before. A deep pang seemed invested in every bone. Her +heart felt swollen out of proportion to its space in her breast. Her +breathing came slow and it hurt. Her blood was sluggish. Suddenly she +shut her eyes. She loathed the light of day. What was it that had +happened? + +Then the brutal truth flashed over her again, in aspect new, with all +the old bitterness. For an instant she experienced a suffocating +sensation as if the canvas had sagged under the burden of heavy air and +was crushing her breast and heart. Then wave after wave of emotion +swept over her. The storm winds of grief and passion were loosened +again. And she writhed in her misery. + +Some one knocked on her door. The Mexican woman called anxiously. +Carley awoke to the fact that her presence was not solitary on the +physical earth, even if her soul seemed stricken to eternal loneliness. +Even in the desert there was a world to consider. Vanity that had bled +to death, pride that had been crushed, availed her not here. But +something else came to her support. The lesson of the West had been to +endure, not to shirk—to face an issue, not to hide. Carley got up, +bathed, dressed, brushed and arranged her dishevelled hair. The face +she saw in the mirror excited her amaze and pity. Then she went out in +answer to the call for dinner. But she could not eat. The ordinary +functions of life appeared to be deadened. + +The day happened to be Sunday, and therefore the workmen were absent. +Carley had the place to herself. How the half-completed house mocked +her! She could not bear to look at it. What use could she make of it +now? Flo Hutter had become the working comrade of Glenn Kilbourne, the +mistress of his cabin. She was his wife and she would be the mother of +his children. + +That thought gave birth to the darkest hour of Carley Burch’s life. She +became possessed as by a thousand devils. She became merely a female +robbed of her mate. Reason was not in her, nor charity, nor justice. +All that was abnormal in human nature seemed coalesced in her, +dominant, passionate, savage, terrible. She hated with an incredible +and insane ferocity. In the seclusion of her tent, crouched on her bed, +silent, locked, motionless, she yet was the embodiment of all terrible +strife and storm in nature. Her heart was a maelstrom and would have +whirled and sucked down to hell all the beings that were men. Her soul +was a bottomless gulf, filled with the gales and the fires of jealousy, +superhuman to destroy. + +That fury consumed all her remaining strength, and from the relapse she +sank to sleep. + +Morning brought the inevitable reaction. However long her other +struggles, this monumental and final one would be brief. She realized +that, yet was unable to understand how it could be possible, unless +shock or death or mental aberration ended the fight. An eternity of +emotion lay back between this awakening of intelligence and the hour of +her fall into the clutches of primitive passion. + +That morning she faced herself in the mirror and asked, “Now—what do I +owe _you?_” It was not her voice that answered. It was beyond her. But +it said: “Go on! You are cut adrift. You are alone. You owe none but +yourself!... Go on! Not backward—not to the depths—but up—upward!” + +She shuddered at such a decree. How impossible for her! All animal, all +woman, all emotion, how could she live on the cold, pure heights? Yet +she owed something intangible and inscrutable to herself. Was it the +thing that woman lacked physically, yet contained hidden in her soul? +An element of eternal spirit to rise! Because of heartbreak and ruin +and irreparable loss must she fall? Was loss of love and husband and +children only a test? The present hour would be swallowed in the sum of +life’s trials. She could not go back. She would not go down. There was +wrenched from her tried and sore heart an unalterable and unquenchable +decision—to make her own soul prove the evolution of woman. Vessel of +blood and flesh she might be, doomed by nature to the reproduction of +her kind, but she had in her the supreme spirit and power to carry on +the progress of the ages—the climb of woman out of the darkness. + +Carley went out to the workmen. The house should be completed and she +would live in it. Always there was the stretching and illimitable +desert to look at, and the grand heave upward of the mountains. Hoyle +was full of zest for the practical details of the building. He saw +nothing of the havoc wrought in her. Nor did the other workmen glance +more than casually at her. In this Carley lost something of a shirking +fear that her loss and grief were patent to all eyes. + +That afternoon she mounted the most spirited of the mustangs she had +purchased from the Indians. To govern him and stick on him required all +her energy. And she rode him hard and far, out across the desert, +across mile after mile of cedar forest, clear to the foothills. She +rested there, absorbed in gazing desertward, and upon turning back +again, she ran him over the level stretches. Wind and branch threshed +her seemingly to ribbons. Violence seemed good for her. A fall had no +fear for her now. She reached camp at dusk, hot as fire, breathless and +strengthless. But she had earned something. Such action required +constant use of muscle and mind. If need be she could drive both to the +very furthermost limit. She could ride and ride—until the future, like +the immensity of the desert there, might swallow her. She changed her +clothes and rested a while. The call to supper found her hungry. In +this fact she discovered mockery of her grief. Love was not the food of +life. Exhausted nature’s need of rest and sleep was no respecter of a +woman’s emotion. + +Next day Carley rode northward, wildly and fearlessly, as if this +conscious activity was the initiative of an endless number of rides +that were to save her. As before the foothills called her, and she went +on until she came to a very high one. + +Carley dismounted from her panting horse, answering the familiar +impulse to attain heights by her own effort. + +“Am I only a weakling?” she asked herself. “Only a creature mined by +the fever of the soul!... Thrown from one emotion to another? Never the +same. Yearning, suffering, sacrificing, hoping, and changing—forever +the same! What is it that drives _me?_ A great city with all its +attractions has failed to help me realize my life. So have friends +failed. So has the world. What can solitude and grandeur do?... All +this obsession of mine—all this strange feeling for simple elemental +earthly things likewise will fail me. Yet I am driven. They would call +me a mad woman.” + +It took Carley a full hour of slow body-bending labor to climb to the +summit of that hill. High, steep, and rugged, it resisted ascension. +But at last she surmounted it and sat alone on the heights, with naked +eyes, and an unconscious prayer on her lips. + +What was it that had happened? Could there be here a different answer +from that which always mocked her? + +She had been a girl, not accountable for loss of mother, for choice of +home and education. She had belonged to a class. She had grown to +womanhood in it. She had loved, and in loving had escaped the evil of +her day, if not its taint. She had lived only for herself. Conscience +had awakened—but, alas! too late. She had overthrown the sordid, +self-seeking habit of life; she had awakened to real womanhood; she had +fought the insidious spell of modernity and she had defeated it; she +had learned the thrill of taking root in new soil, the pain and joy of +labor, the bliss of solitude, the promise of home and love and +motherhood. But she had gathered all these marvelous things to her soul +too late for happiness. + +“_Now_ it is answered,” she declared aloud. “That is what has +happened?... And all that is _past_.... Is there anything left? If so +_what?_” + +She flung her query out to the winds of the desert. But the desert +seemed too gray, too vast, too remote, too aloof, too measureless. It +was not concerned with her little life. Then she turned to the mountain +kingdom. + +It seemed overpoweringly near at hand. It loomed above her to pierce +the fleecy clouds. It was only a stupendous upheaval of earth-crust, +grown over at the base by leagues and leagues of pine forest, belted +along the middle by vast slanting zigzag slopes of aspen, rent and +riven toward the heights into canyon and gorge, bared above to cliffs +and corners of craggy rock, whitened at the sky-piercing peaks by snow. +Its beauty and sublimity were lost upon Carley now; she was concerned +with its travail, its age, its endurance, its strength. And she studied +it with magnified sight. + +What incomprehensible subterranean force had swelled those immense +slopes and lifted the huge bulk aloft to the clouds? Cataclysm of +nature—the expanding or shrinking of the earth—vast volcanic action +under the surface! Whatever it had been, it had left its expression of +the travail of the universe. This mountain mass had been hot gas when +flung from the parent sun, and now it was solid granite. What had it +endured in the making? What indeed had been its dimensions before the +millions of years of its struggle? + +Eruption, earthquake, avalanche, the attrition of glacier, the erosion +of water, the cracking of frost, the weathering of rain and wind and +snow—these it had eternally fought and resisted in vain, yet still it +stood magnificent, frowning, battle-scarred and undefeated. Its +sky-piercing peaks were as cries for mercy to the Infinite. This old +mountain realized its doom. It had to go, perhaps to make room for a +newer and better kingdom. But it endured because of the spirit of +nature. The great notched circular line of rock below and between the +peaks, in the body of the mountains, showed where in ages past the +heart of living granite had blown out, to let loose on all the near +surrounding desert the streams of black lava and the hills of black +cinders. Despite its fringe of green it was hoary with age. Every +looming gray-faced wall, massive and sublime, seemed a monument of its +mastery over time. Every deep-cut canyon, showing the skeleton ribs, +the caverns and caves, its avalanche-carved slides, its long, +fan-shaped, spreading taluses, carried conviction to the spectator that +it was but a frail bit of rock, that its life was little and brief, +that upon it had been laid the merciless curse of nature. Change! +Change must unknit the very knots of the center of the earth. So its +strength lay in the sublimity of its defiance. It meant to endure to +the last rolling grain of sand. It was a dead mountain of rock, without +spirit, yet it taught a grand lesson to the seeing eye. + +Life was only a part, perhaps an infinitely small part of nature’s +plan. Death and decay were just as important to her inscrutable design. +The universe had not been created for life, ease, pleasure, and +happiness of a man creature developed from lower organisms. If nature’s +secret was the developing of a spirit through all time, Carley divined +that she had it within her. So the present meant little. + +“I have no right to be unhappy,” concluded Carley. “I had no right to +Glenn Kilbourne. I failed him. In that I failed myself. Neither life +nor nature failed me—nor love. It is no longer a mystery. Unhappiness +is only a change. Happiness itself is only change. So what does it +matter? The great thing is to see life—to understand—to feel—to work—to +fight—to endure. It is not my fault I am here. But it is my fault if I +leave this strange old earth the poorer for my failure.... I will no +longer be little. I will find strength. I will endure.... I still have +eyes, ears, nose, taste. I can feel the sun, the wind, the nip of +frost. Must I slink like a craven because I’ve lost the love of _one_ +man? Must I hate Flo Hutter because she will make Glenn happy? +Never!... All of this seems better so, because through it I am changed. +I might have lived on, a selfish clod!” + +Carley turned from the mountain kingdom and faced her future with the +profound and sad and far-seeing look that had come with her lesson. She +knew what to give. Sometime and somewhere there would be recompense. +She would hide her wound in the faith that time would heal it. And the +ordeal she set herself, to prove her sincerity and strength, was to +ride down to Oak Creek Canyon. + +Carley did not wait many days. Strange how the old vanity held her back +until something of the havoc in her face should be gone! + +One morning she set out early, riding her best horse, and she took a +sheep trail across country. The distance by road was much farther. The +June morning was cool, sparkling, fragrant. Mocking birds sang from the +topmost twig of cedars; doves cooed in the pines; sparrow hawks sailed +low over the open grassy patches. Desert primroses showed their rounded +pink clusters in sunny places, and here and there burned the carmine of +Indian paintbrush. Jack rabbits and cotton-tails bounded and scampered +away through the sage. The desert had life and color and movement this +June day. And as always there was the dry fragrance on the air. + +Her mustang had been inured to long and consistent travel over the +desert. Her weight was nothing to him and he kept to the swinging lope +for miles. As she approached Oak Creek Canyon, however, she drew him to +a trot, and then a walk. Sight of the deep red-walled and green-floored +canyon was a shock to her. + +The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan’s sheep camp, at a +point several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze +Ruff. She remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep +jump-off where the road led down off the rim into the canyon. Here she +dismounted and walked. From the foot of this descent she knew every rod +of the way would be familiar to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to turn +away and fly from them. But she kept on and mounted again at level +ground. + +The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears—sweet, sad, +memorable, strangely powerful to hurt. Yet the sound seemed of long +ago. Down here summer had advanced. Rich thick foliage overspread the +winding road of sand. Then out of the shade she passed into the sunnier +regions of isolated pines. Along here she had raced Calico with Glenn’s +bay; and here she had caught him, and there was the place she had +fallen. She halted a moment under the pine tree where Glenn had held +her in his arms. Tears dimmed her eyes. If only she had known then the +truth, the reality! But regrets were useless. + +By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees, and its pipe-organ +conformation was familiar to Carley. She left the road and turned to go +down to the creek. Sycamores and maples and great bowlders, and mossy +ledges overhanging the water, and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot +where she and Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day. Her mustang +splashed into the clear water and halted to drink. Beyond, through the +trees, Carley saw the sunny red-earthed clearing that was Glenn’s farm. +She looked, and fought herself, and bit her quivering lip until she +tasted blood. Then she rode out into the open. + +The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and +plowed. But she gazed no farther. She did not want to see the spot +where she had given Glenn his ring and had parted from him. She rode +on. If she could pass West Fork she believed her courage would rise to +the completion of this ordeal. Places were what she feared. Places that +she had loved while blindly believing she hated! There the narrow gap +of green and blue split the looming red wall. She was looking into West +Fork. Up there stood the cabin. How fierce a pang rent her breast! She +faltered at the crossing of the branch stream, and almost surrendered. +The water murmured, the leaves rustled, the bees hummed, the birds +sang—all with some sad sweetness that seemed of the past. + +Then the trail leading up West Fork was like a barrier. She saw horse +tracks in it. Next she descried boot tracks the shape of which was so +well-remembered that it shook her heart. There were fresh tracks in the +sand, pointing in the direction of the Lodge. Ah! that was where Glenn +lived now. Carley strained at her will to keep it fighting her memory. +The glory and the dream were gone! + +A touch of spur urged her mustang into a gallop. The splashing ford of +the creek—the still, eddying pool beyond—the green orchards—the white +lacy waterfall—and Lolomi Lodge! + +Nothing had altered. But Carley seemed returning after many years. +Slowly she dismounted—slowly she climbed the porch steps. Was there no +one at home? Yet the vacant doorway, the silence—something attested to +the knowledge of Carley’s presence. Then suddenly Mrs. Hutter fluttered +out with Flo behind her. + +“You dear girl—I’m so glad!” cried Mrs. Hutter, her voice trembling. + +“I’m glad to see you, too,” said Carley, bending to receive Mrs. +Hutter’s embrace. Carley saw dim eyes—the stress of agitation, but no +surprise. + +“_Oh, Carley!_” burst out the Western girl, with voice rich and full, +yet tremulous. + +“Flo, I’ve come to wish you happiness,” replied Carley, very low. + +Was it the same Flo? This seemed more of a woman—strange now—white and +strained—beautiful, eager, questioning. A cry of gladness burst from +her. Carley felt herself enveloped in strong close clasp—and then a +warm, quick kiss of joy. It shocked her, yet somehow thrilled. Sure was +the welcome here. Sure was the strained situation, also, but the voice +rang too glad a note for Carley. It touched her deeply, yet she could +not understand. She had not measured the depth of Western friendship. + +“Have you—seen Glenn?” queried Flo, breathlessly. + +“Oh no, indeed not,” replied Carley, slowly gaining composure. The +nervous agitation of these women had stilled her own. “I just rode up +the trail. Where is he?” + +“He was here—a moment ago,” panted Flo. “Oh, Carley, we sure are +locoed. ... Why, we only heard an hour ago—that _you_ were at Deep +Lake.... Charley rode in. He told us.... I thought my heart would +break. Poor Glenn! When he heard it.... But never mind _me_. Jump your +horse and run to West Fork!” + +The spirit of her was like the strength of her arms as she hurried +Carley across the porch and shoved her down the steps. + +“Climb on and run, Carley,” cried Flo. “If you only knew how glad he’ll +be that you came!” + +Carley leaped into the saddle and wheeled the mustang. But she had no +answer for the girl’s singular, almost wild exultance. Then like a shot +the spirited mustang was off down the lane. Carley wondered with +swelling heart. Was her coming such a wondrous surprise—so unexpected +and big in generosity—something that would make Kilbourne as glad as it +had seemed to make Flo? Carley thrilled to this assurance. + +Down the lane she flew. The red walls blurred and the sweet wind +whipped her face. At the trail she swerved the mustang, but did not +check his gait. Under the great pines he sped and round the bulging +wall. At the rocky incline leading to the creek she pulled the fiery +animal to a trot. How low and clear the water! As Carley forded it +fresh cool drops splashed into her face. Again she spurred her mount +and again trees and walls rushed by. Up and down the yellow bits of +trail—on over the brown mats of pine needles—until there in the +sunlight shone the little gray log cabin with a tall form standing in +the door. One instant the canyon tilted on end for Carley and she was +riding into the blue sky. Then some magic of soul sustained her, so +that she saw clearly. Reaching the cabin she reined in her mustang. + +“Hello, Glenn! Look who’s here!” she cried, not wholly failing of +gayety. + +He threw up his sombrero. + +“Whoopee!” he yelled, in stentorian voice that rolled across the canyon +and bellowed in hollow echo and then clapped from wall to wall. The +unexpected Western yell, so strange from Glenn, disconcerted Carley. +Had he only answered her spirit of greeting? Had hers rung false? + +But he was coming to her. She had seen the bronze of his face turn to +white. How gaunt and worn he looked. Older he appeared, with deeper +lines and whiter hair. His jaw quivered. + +“Carley Burch, so it was _you?_” he queried, hoarsely. + +“Glenn, I reckon it was,” she replied. “I bought your Deep Lake ranch +site. I came back too late.... But it is never too late for some +things.... I’ve come to wish you and Flo all the happiness in the +world—and to say we must be friends.” + +The way he looked at her made her tremble. He strode up beside the +mustang, and he was so tall that his shoulder came abreast of her. He +placed a big warm hand on hers, as it rested, ungloved, on the pommel +of the saddle. + +“Have you seen Flo?” he asked. + +“I just left her. It was funny—the way she rushed me off after you. As +if there weren’t two—” + +Was it Glenn’s eyes or the movement of his hand that checked her +utterance? His gaze pierced her soul. His hand slid along her arm to +her waist—around it. Her heart seemed to burst. + +“Kick your feet out of the stirrups,” he ordered. + +Instinctively she obeyed. Then with a strong pull he hauled her half +out of the saddle, pellmell into his arms. Carley had no resistance. +She sank limp, in an agony of amaze. Was this a dream? Swift and hard +his lips met hers—and again—and again.... + +“Oh, my God!—Glenn, are—you—mad?” she whispered, almost swooning. + +“Sure—I reckon I am,” he replied, huskily, and pulled her all the way +out of the saddle. + +Carley would have fallen but for his support. She could not think. She +was all instinct. Only the amaze—the sudden horror—drifted—faded as +before fires of her heart! + +“Kiss me!” he commanded. + +She would have kissed him if death were the penalty. How his face +blurred in her dimmed sight! Was that a strange smile? Then he held her +back from him. + +“Carley—you came to wish Flo and me happiness?” he asked. + +“Oh, yes—yes.... Pity me, Glenn—let me go. I meant well.... I +should—never have come.” + +“Do you love me?” he went on, with passionate, shaking clasp. + +“God help me—I do—I do!... And now it will kill me!” + +“What did that damned fool Charley tell you?” + +The strange content of his query, the trenchant force of it, brought +her upright, with sight suddenly cleared. Was this giant the tragic +Glenn who had strode to her from the cabin door? + +“Charley told me—you and Flo—were married,” she whispered. + +“You didn’t _believe_ him!” returned Glenn. + +She could no longer speak. She could only see her lover, as if +transfigured, limned dark against the looming red wall. + +“That was one of Charley’s queer jokes. I told you to beware of him. +Flo is married, yes—and very happy.... I’m unutterably happy, too—but +I’m _not_ married. Lee Stanton was the lucky bridegroom.... Carley, the +moment I saw you I knew you had come back to me.” + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Call of the Canyon</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Zane Grey</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September, 1999 [eBook #1881]<br /> +[Most recently updated: May 21, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Bill Brewer</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>The Call of the Canyon</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Zane Grey</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"></a> +CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p> +What subtle strange message had come to her out of the West? Carley Burch laid +the letter in her lap and gazed dreamily through the window. +</p> + +<p> +It was a day typical of early April in New York, rather cold and gray, with +steely sunlight. Spring breathed in the air, but the women passing along +Fifty-seventh Street wore furs and wraps. She heard the distant clatter of an L +train and then the hum of a motor car. A hurdy-gurdy jarred into the interval +of quiet. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn has been gone over a year,” she mused, “three months +over a year—and of all his strange letters this seems the strangest +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +She lived again, for the thousandth time, the last moments she had spent with +him. It had been on New-Year’s Eve, 1918. They had called upon friends +who were staying at the McAlpin, in a suite on the twenty-first floor +overlooking Broadway. And when the last quarter hour of that eventful and +tragic year began slowly to pass with the low swell of whistles and bells, +Carley’s friends had discreetly left her alone with her lover, at the +open window, to watch and hear the old year out, the new year in. Glenn +Kilbourne had returned from France early that fall, shell-shocked and gassed, +and otherwise incapacitated for service in the army—a wreck of his former +sterling self and in many unaccountable ways a stranger to her. Cold, silent, +haunted by something, he had made her miserable with his aloofness. But as the +bells began to ring out the year that had been his ruin Glenn had drawn her +close, tenderly, passionately, and yet strangely, too. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, look and listen!” he had whispered. +</p> + +<p> +Under them stretched the great long white flare of Broadway, with its +snow-covered length glittering under a myriad of electric lights. Sixth Avenue +swerved away to the right, a less brilliant lane of blanched snow. The L trains +crept along like huge fire-eyed serpents. The hum of the ceaseless moving line +of motor cars drifted upward faintly, almost drowned in the rising clamor of +the street. Broadway’s gay and thoughtless crowds surged to and fro, from +that height merely a thick stream of black figures, like contending columns of +ants on the march. And everywhere the monstrous electric signs flared up vivid +in white and red and green; and dimmed and paled, only to flash up again. +</p> + +<p> +Ring out the Old! Ring in the New! Carley had poignantly felt the sadness of +the one, the promise of the other. As one by one the siren factory whistles +opened up with deep, hoarse bellow, the clamor of the street and the ringing of +the bells were lost in a volume of continuous sound that swelled on high into a +magnificent roar. It was the voice of a city—of a nation. It was the +voice of a people crying out the strife and the agony of the year—pealing +forth a prayer for the future. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn had put his lips to her ear: “It’s like the voice in my +soul!” Never would she forget the shock of that. And how she had stood +spellbound, enveloped in the mighty volume of sound no longer discordant, but +full of great, pregnant melody, until the white ball burst upon the tower of +the Times Building, showing the bright figures 1919. +</p> + +<p> +The new year had not been many minutes old when Glenn Kilbourne had told her he +was going West to try to recover his health. +</p> + +<p> +Carley roused out of her memories to take up the letter that had so perplexed +her. It bore the postmark, Flagstaff, Arizona. She reread it with slow +pondering thoughtfulness. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +W<small>EST</small> F<small>ORK</small>,<br/> +<i>March</i> 25. +</p> + +<div class="letter"> +<p> +D<small>EAR</small> C<small>ARLEY</small>: +</p> + +<p> +It does seem my neglect in writing you is unpardonable. I used to be a pretty +fair correspondent, but in that as in other things I have changed. +</p> + +<p> +One reason I have not answered sooner is because your letter was so sweet and +loving that it made me feel an ungrateful and unappreciative wretch. Another is +that this life I now lead does not induce writing. I am outdoors all day, and +when I get back to this cabin at night I am too tired for anything but bed. +</p> + +<p> +Your imperious questions I must answer—and that <i>must</i>, of course, +is a third reason why I have delayed my reply. First, you ask, +“Don’t you love me any more as you used to?”... Frankly, I do +not. I am sure my old love for you, before I went to France, was selfish, +thoughtless, sentimental, and boyish. I am a man now. And my love for you is +different. Let me assure you that it has been about all left to me of what is +noble and beautiful. Whatever the changes in me for the worse, my love for you, +at least, has grown better, finer, purer. +</p> + +<p> +And now for your second question, “Are you coming home as soon as you are +well again?”... Carley, I <i>am</i> well. I have delayed telling you this +because I knew you would expect me to rush back East with the telling. +But—the fact is, Carley, I am not coming—just yet. I wish it were +possible for me to make you understand. For a long time I seem to have been +frozen within. You know when I came back from France I couldn’t talk. +It’s almost as bad as that now. Yet all that I was then seems to have +changed again. It is only fair to you to tell you that, as I feel now, I hate +the city, I hate people, and particularly I hate that dancing, drinking, +lounging set you chase with. I don’t want to come East until I am over +that, you know... Suppose I never get over it? Well, Carley, you can free +yourself from me by one word that I could never utter. I could never break our +engagement. During the hell I went through in the war my attachment to you +saved me from moral ruin, if it did not from perfect honor and fidelity. This +is another thing I despair of making you understand. And in the chaos +I’ve wandered through <i>since</i> the war my love for you was my only +anchor. You never guessed, did you, that I lived on your letters until I got +well. And now the fact that I might get along without them is no discredit to +their charm or to you. +</p> + +<p> +It is all so hard to put in words, Carley. To lie down with death and get up +with death was nothing. To face one’s degradation was nothing. But to +come home an incomprehensibly changed man—and to see my old life as +strange as if it were the new life of another planet—to try to slip into +the old groove—well, no words of mine can tell you how utterly impossible +it was. +</p> + +<p> +My old job was not open to me, even if I had been able to work. The government +that I fought for left me to starve, or to die of my maladies like a dog, for +all it cared. +</p> + +<p> +I could not live on your money, Carley. My people are poor, as you know. So +there was nothing for me to do but to borrow a little money from my friends and +to come West. I’m glad I had the courage to come. What this West is +I’ll never try to tell you, because, loving the luxury and excitement and +glitter of the city as you do, you’d think I was crazy. +</p> + +<p> +Getting on here, in my condition, was as hard as trench life. But now, +Carley—something has come to me out of the West. That, too, I am unable +to put into words. Maybe I can give you an inkling of it. I’m strong +enough to chop wood all day. No man or woman passes my cabin in a month. But I +am never lonely. I love these vast red canyon walls towering above me. And the +silence is so sweet. Think of the hellish din that filled my ears. Even +now—sometimes, the brook here changes its babbling murmur to the roar of +war. I never understood anything of the meaning of nature until I lived under +these looming stone walls and whispering pines. +</p> + +<p> +So, Carley, try to understand me, or at least be kind. You know they came very +near writing, “Gone west!” after my name, and considering +<i>that</i>, this “Out West” signifies for me a very fortunate +difference. A tremendous difference! For the present I’ll let well enough +alone. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"> +<i>Adios</i>. Write soon. Love from<br/> +G<small>LENN</small>. +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s second reaction to the letter was a sudden upflashing desire to +see her lover—to go out West and find him. Impulses with her were rather +rare and inhibited, but this one made her tremble. If Glenn was well again he +must have vastly changed from the moody, stone-faced, and haunted-eyed man who +had so worried and distressed her. He had embarrassed her, too, for sometimes, +in her home, meeting young men there who had not gone into the service, he had +seemed to retreat into himself, singularly aloof, as if his world was not +theirs. +</p> + +<p> +Again, with eager eyes and quivering lips, she read the letter. It contained +words that lifted her heart. Her starved love greedily absorbed them. In them +she had excuse for any resolve that might bring Glenn closer to her. And she +pondered over this longing to go to him. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had the means to come and go and live as she liked. She did not remember +her father, who had died when she was a child. Her mother had left her in the +care of a sister, and before the war they had divided their time between New +York and Europe, the Adirondacks and Florida, Carley had gone in for Red Cross +and relief work with more of sincerity than most of her set. But she was really +not used to making any decision as definite and important as that of going out +West alone. She had never been farther west than Jersey City; and her +conception of the West was a hazy one of vast plains and rough mountains, +squalid towns, cattle herds, and uncouth ill-clad men. +</p> + +<p> +So she carried the letter to her aunt, a rather slight woman with a kindly face +and shrewd eyes, and who appeared somewhat given to old-fashioned garments. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Mary, here’s a letter from Glenn,” said Carley. +“It’s more of a stumper than usual. Please read it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! You look upset,” replied the aunt, mildly, and, adjusting +her spectacles, she took the letter. +</p> + +<p> +Carley waited impatiently for the perusal, conscious of inward forces coming +more and more to the aid of her impulse to go West. Her aunt paused once to +murmur how glad she was that Glenn had gotten well. Then she read on to the +close. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, that’s a fine letter,” she said, fervently. +“Do you see through it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t,” replied Carley. “That’s why I +asked you to read it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you still love Glenn as you used to before—” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Aunt Mary!” exclaimed Carley, in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, Carley, if I’m blunt. But the fact is young women of +modern times are very different from my kind when I was a girl. You +haven’t acted as though you pined for Glenn. You gad around almost the +same as ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s a girl to do?” protested Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“You are twenty-six years old, Carley,” retorted Aunt Mary. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose I am. I’m as young—as I ever was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let’s not argue about modern girls and modern times. We +never get anywhere,” returned her aunt, kindly. “But I can tell you +something of what Glenn Kilbourne means in that letter—if you want to +hear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do—indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +“The war did something horrible to Glenn aside from wrecking his health. +Shell-shock, they said! I don’t understand that. Out of his mind, they +said! But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, and, my dear, +that’s pretty sane, I’ll have you remember. But he must have +suffered some terrible blight to his spirit—some blunting of his soul. +For months after he returned he walked as one in a trance. Then came a change. +He grew restless. Perhaps that change was for the better. At least it showed +he’d roused. Glenn saw you and your friends and the life you lead, and +all the present, with eyes from which the scales had dropped. He saw what was +<i>wrong</i>. He never said so to me, but I knew it. It wasn’t only to +get well that he went West. It was to get away.... And, Carley Burch, if your +happiness depends on him you had better be up and doing—or you’ll +<i>lose</i> him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Mary!” gasped Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean it. That letter shows how near he came to the Valley of the +Shadow—and how he has become a man.... If I were you I’d go out +West. Surely there must be a place where it would be all right for you to +stay.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” replied Carley, eagerly. “Glenn wrote me there was +a lodge where people went in nice weather—right down in the canyon not +far from his place. Then, of course, the town—Flagstaff—isn’t +far.... Aunt Mary, I think I’ll go.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would. You’re certainly wasting your time here.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I could only go for a visit,” rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. +“A month, perhaps six weeks, if I could stand it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seems to me if you can stand New York you could stand that place,” +said Aunt Mary, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“The idea of staying away from New York any length of time—why, I +couldn’t do it I... But I can stay out there long enough to bring Glenn +back with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That may take you longer than you think,” replied her aunt, with a +gleam in her shrewd eyes. “If you want my advice you will surprise Glenn. +Don’t write him—don’t give him a chance to—well to +suggest courteously that you’d better not come just yet. I don’t +like his words ‘just yet.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Auntie, you’re—rather—more than blunt,” said +Carley, divided between resentment and amaze. “Glenn would be simply wild +to have me come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe he would. Has he ever asked you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No-o—come to think of it, he hasn’t,” replied Carley, +reluctantly. “Aunt Mary, you hurt my feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, child, I’m glad to learn your feelings are hurt,” +returned the aunt. “I’m sure, Carley, that underneath all +this—this blasé ultra something you’ve acquired, there’s a +real heart. Only you must hurry and listen to it—or—” +</p> + +<p> +“Or what?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Aunt Mary shook her gray head sagely. “Never mind what. Carley, I’d +like your idea of the most significant thing in Glenn’s letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, his love for me, of course!” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally you think that. But I don’t. What struck me most were +his words, ‘out of the West.’ Carley, you’d do well to ponder +over them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will,” rejoined Carley, positively. “I’ll do more. +I’ll go out to his wonderful West and see what he meant by them.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley Burch possessed in full degree the prevailing modern craze for speed. +She loved a motor-car ride at sixty miles an hour along a smooth, straight +road, or, better, on the level seashore of Ormond, where on moonlight nights +the white blanched sand seemed to flash toward her. Therefore quite to her +taste was the Twentieth Century Limited which was hurtling her on the way to +Chicago. The unceasingly smooth and even rush of the train satisfied something +in her. An old lady sitting in an adjoining seat with a companion amused Carley +by the remark: “I wish we didn’t go so fast. People nowadays +haven’t time to draw a comfortable breath. Suppose we should run off the +track!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley had no fear of express trains, or motor cars, or transatlantic liners; +in fact, she prided herself in not being afraid of anything. But she wondered +if this was not the false courage of association with a crowd. Before this +enterprise at hand she could not remember anything she had undertaken alone. +Her thrills seemed to be in abeyance to the end of her journey. That night her +sleep was permeated with the steady low whirring of the wheels. Once, roused by +a jerk, she lay awake in the darkness while the thought came to her that she +and all her fellow passengers were really at the mercy of the engineer. Who was +he, and did he stand at his throttle keen and vigilant, thinking of the lives +intrusted to him? Such thoughts vaguely annoyed Carley, and she dismissed them. +</p> + +<p> +A long half-day wait in Chicago was a tedious preliminary to the second part of +her journey. But at last she found herself aboard the California Limited, and +went to bed with a relief quite a stranger to her. The glare of the sun under +the curtain awakened her. Propped up on her pillows, she looked out at +apparently endless green fields or pastures, dotted now and then with little +farmhouses and tree-skirted villages. This country, she thought, must be the +prairie land she remembered lay west of the Mississippi. +</p> + +<p> +Later, in the dining car, the steward smilingly answered her question: +“This is Kansas, and those green fields out there are the wheat that +feeds the nation.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley was not impressed. The color of the short wheat appeared soft and rich, +and the boundless fields stretched away monotonously. She had not known there +was so much flat land in the world, and she imagined it might be a fine country +for automobile roads. When she got back to her seat she drew the blinds down +and read her magazines. Then tiring of that, she went back to the observation +car. Carley was accustomed to attracting attention, and did not resent it, +unless she was annoyed. The train evidently had a full complement of +passengers, who, as far as Carley could see, were people not of her station in +life. The glare from the many windows, and the rather crass interest of several +men, drove her back to her own section. There she discovered that some one had +drawn up her window shades. Carley promptly pulled them down and settled +herself comfortably. Then she heard a woman speak, not particularly low: +“I thought people traveled west to see the country.” And a man +replied, rather dryly. “Wal, not always.” His companion went on: +“If that girl was mine I’d let down her skirt.” The man +laughed and replied: “Martha, you’re shore behind the times. Look +at the pictures in the magazines.” +</p> + +<p> +Such remarks amused Carley, and later she took advantage of an opportunity to +notice her neighbors. They appeared a rather quaint old couple, reminding her +of the natives of country towns in the Adirondacks. She was not amused, +however, when another of her woman neighbors, speaking low, referred to her as +a “lunger.” Carley appreciated the fact that she was pale, but she +assured herself that there ended any possible resemblance she might have to a +consumptive. And she was somewhat pleased to hear this woman’s male +companion forcibly voice her own convictions. In fact, he was nothing if not +admiring. +</p> + +<p> +Kansas was interminably long to Carley, and she went to sleep before riding out +of it. Next morning she found herself looking out at the rough gray and black +land of New Mexico. She searched the horizon for mountains, but there did not +appear to be any. She received a vague, slow-dawning impression that was hard +to define. She did not like the country, though that was not the impression +which eluded her. Bare gray flats, low scrub-fringed hills, bleak cliffs, +jumble after jumble of rocks, and occasionally a long vista down a valley, +somehow compelling—these passed before her gaze until she tired of them. +Where was the West Glenn had written about? One thing seemed sure, and it was +that every mile of this crude country brought her nearer to him. This recurring +thought gave Carley all the pleasure she had felt so far in this endless ride. +It struck her that England or France could be dropped down into New Mexico and +scarcely noticed. +</p> + +<p> +By and by the sun grew hot, the train wound slowly and creakingly upgrade, the +car became full of dust, all of which was disagreeable to Carley. She dozed on +her pillow for hours, until she was stirred by a passenger crying out, +delightedly: “Look! Indians!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley looked, not without interest. As a child she had read about Indians, and +memory returned images both colorful and romantic. From the car window she +espied dusty flat barrens, low squat mud houses, and queer-looking little +people, children naked or extremely ragged and dirty, women in loose garments +with flares of red, and men in white man’s garb, slovenly and motley. All +these strange individuals stared apathetically as the train slowly passed. +</p> + +<p> +“Indians,” muttered Carley, incredulously. “Well, if they are +the noble red people, my illusions are dispelled.” She did not look out +of the window again, not even when the brakeman called out the remarkable name +of Albuquerque. +</p> + +<p> +Next day Carley’s languid attention quickened to the name of Arizona, and +to the frowning red walls of rock, and to the vast rolling stretches of +cedar-dotted land. Nevertheless, it affronted her. This was no country for +people to live in, and so far as she could see it was indeed uninhabited. Her +sensations were not, however, limited to sight. She became aware of unfamiliar +disturbing little shocks or vibrations in her ear drums, and after that a +disagreeable bleeding of the nose. The porter told her this was owing to the +altitude. Thus, one thing and another kept Carley most of the time away from +the window, so that she really saw very little of the country. From what she +had seen she drew the conviction that she had not missed much. At sunset she +deliberately gazed out to discover what an Arizona sunset was like just a pale +yellow flare! She had seen better than that above the Palisades. Not until +reaching Winslow did she realize how near she was to her journey’s end +and that she would arrive at Flagstaff after dark. She grew conscious of +nervousness. Suppose Flagstaff were like these other queer little towns! +</p> + +<p> +Not only once, but several times before the train slowed down for her +destination did Carley wish she had sent Glenn word to meet her. And when, +presently, she found herself standing out in the dark, cold, windy night before +a dim-lit railroad station she more than regretted her decision to surprise +Glenn. But that was too late and she must make the best of her poor judgment. +</p> + +<p> +Men were passing to and fro on the platform, some of whom appeared to be very +dark of skin and eye, and were probably Mexicans. At length an expressman +approached Carley, soliciting patronage. He took her bags and, depositing them +in a wagon, he pointed up the wide street: “One block up an’ turn. +Hotel Wetherford.” Then he drove off. Carley followed, carrying her small +satchel. A cold wind, driving the dust, stung her face as she crossed the +street to a high sidewalk that extended along the block. There were lights in +the stores and on the corners, yet she seemed impressed by a dark, cold, windy +bigness. Many people, mostly men, were passing up and down, and there were +motor cars everywhere. No one paid any attention to her. Gaining the corner of +the block, she turned, and was relieved to see the hotel sign. As she entered +the lobby a clicking of pool balls and the discordant rasp of a phonograph +assailed her ears. The expressman set down her bags and left Carley standing +there. The clerk or proprietor was talking from behind his desk to several men, +and there were loungers in the lobby. The air was thick with tobacco smoke. No +one paid any attention to Carley until at length she stepped up to the desk and +interrupted the conversation there. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this a hotel?” she queried, brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +The shirt-sleeved individual leisurely turned and replied, “Yes, +ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +And Carley said: “No one would recognize it by the courtesy shown. I have +been standing here waiting to register.” +</p> + +<p> +With the same leisurely case and a cool, laconic stare the clerk turned the +book toward her. “Reckon people round here ask for what they want.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley made no further comment. She assuredly recognized that what she had been +accustomed to could not be expected out here. What she most wished to do at the +moment was to get close to the big open grate where a cheery red-and-gold fire +cracked. It was necessary, however, to follow the clerk. He assigned her to a +small drab room which contained a bed, a bureau, and a stationary washstand +with one spigot. There was also a chair. While Carley removed her coat and hat +the clerk went downstairs for the rest of her luggage. Upon his return Carley +learned that a stage left the hotel for Oak Creek Canyon at nine o’clock +next morning. And this cheered her so much that she faced the strange sense of +loneliness and discomfort with something of fortitude. There was no heat in the +room, and no hot water. When Carley squeezed the spigot handle there burst +forth a torrent of water that spouted up out of the washbasin to deluge her. It +was colder than any ice water she had ever felt. It was piercingly cold. Hard +upon the surprise and shock Carley suffered a flash of temper. But then the +humor of it struck her and she had to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Serves you right—you spoiled doll of luxury!” she mocked. +“This is out West. Shiver and wait on yourself!” +</p> + +<p> +Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick woollen +blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness, too, seemed +rather comforting. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only twenty miles from Glenn,” she whispered. “How +strange! I wonder will he be glad.” She felt a sweet, glowing assurance +of that. Sleep did not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, +and for a long time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, the +click of pool balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she heard a +sound of wind outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her ears, and +somehow pleasant. Another sound greeted her—the musical clanging of a +clock that struck the quarters of the hour. Some time late sleep claimed her. +</p> + +<p> +Upon awakening she found she had overslept, necessitating haste upon her part. +As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of leisurely dressing. +She had no adequate name for the feeling of the water. And her fingers grew so +numb that she made what she considered a disgraceful matter of her attire. +</p> + +<p> +Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate. How +perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb hands almost +into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain that slowly warmed out +of them. The lobby was deserted. A sign directed her to a dining room in the +basement, where of the ham and eggs and strong coffee she managed to partake a +little. Then she went upstairs into the lobby and out into the street. +</p> + +<p> +A cold, piercing air seemed to blow right through her. Walking to the near +corner, she paused to look around. Down the main street flowed a leisurely +stream of pedestrians, horses, cars, extending between two blocks of low +buildings. Across from where she stood lay a vacant lot, beyond which began a +line of neat, oddly constructed houses, evidently residences of the town. And +then lifting her gaze, instinctively drawn by something obstructing the sky +line, she was suddenly struck with surprise and delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! how perfectly splendid!” she burst out. +</p> + +<p> +Two magnificent mountains loomed right over her, sloping up with majestic sweep +of green and black timber, to a ragged tree-fringed snow area that swept up +cleaner and whiter, at last to lift pure glistening peaks, noble and sharp, and +sunrise-flushed against the blue. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had climbed Mont Blanc and she had seen the Matterhorn, but they had +never struck such amaze and admiration from her as these twin peaks of her +native land. +</p> + +<p> +“What mountains are those?” she asked a passer-by. +</p> + +<p> +“San Francisco Peaks, ma’am,” replied the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, they can’t be over a mile away!” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Eighteen miles, ma’am,” he returned, with a grin. +“Shore this Arizonie air is deceivin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“How strange,” murmured Carley. “It’s not that way in +the Adirondacks.” +</p> + +<p> +She was still gazing upward when a man approached her and said the stage for +Oak Creek Canyon would soon be ready to start, and he wanted to know if her +baggage was ready. Carley hurried back to her room to pack. +</p> + +<p> +She had expected the stage would be a motor bus, or at least a large touring +car, but it turned out to be a two-seated vehicle drawn by a team of ragged +horses. The driver was a little wizen-faced man of doubtful years, and he did +not appear obviously susceptible to the importance of his passenger. There was +considerable freight to be hauled, besides Carley’s luggage, but +evidently she was the only passenger. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon it’s goin’ to be a bad day,” said the driver. +“These April days high up on the desert are windy an’ cold. Mebbe +it’ll snow, too. Them clouds hangin’ around the peaks ain’t +very promisin’. Now, miss, haven’t you a heavier coat or +somethin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I have not,” replied Carley. “I’ll have to stand +it. Did you say this was desert?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shore did. Wal, there’s a hoss blanket under the seat, an’ +you can have that,” he replied, and, climbing to the seat in front of +Carley, he took up the reins and started the horses off at a trot. +</p> + +<p> +At the first turning Carley became specifically acquainted with the +driver’s meaning of a bad day. A gust of wind, raw and penetrating, laden +with dust and stinging sand, swept full in her face. It came so suddenly that +she was scarcely quick enough to close her eyes. It took considerable clumsy +effort on her part with a handkerchief, aided by relieving tears, to clear her +sight again. Thus uncomfortably Carley found herself launched on the last lap +of her journey. +</p> + +<p> +All before her and alongside lay the squalid environs of the town. Looked back +at, with the peaks rising behind, it was not unpicturesque. But the hard road +with its sheets of flying dust, the bleak railroad yards, the round pens she +took for cattle corrals, and the sordid debris littering the approach to a huge +sawmill,—these were offensive in Carley’s sight. From a tall +dome-like stack rose a yellowish smoke that spread overhead, adding to the +lowering aspect of the sky. Beyond the sawmill extended the open country +sloping somewhat roughly, and evidently once a forest, but now a hideous bare +slash, with ghastly burned stems of trees still standing, and myriads of stumps +attesting to denudation. +</p> + +<p> +The bleak road wound away to the southwest, and from this direction came the +gusty wind. It did not blow regularly so that Carley could be on her guard. It +lulled now and then, permitting her to look about, and then suddenly again +whipping dust into her face. The smell of the dust was as unpleasant as the +sting. It made her nostrils smart. It was penetrating, and a little more of it +would have been suffocating. And as a leaden gray bank of broken clouds rolled +up the wind grew stronger and the air colder. Chilled before, Carley now became +thoroughly cold. +</p> + +<p> +There appeared to be no end to the devastated forest land, and the farther she +rode the more barren and sordid grew the landscape. Carley forgot about the +impressive mountains behind her. And as the ride wore into hours, such was her +discomfort and disillusion that she forgot about Glenn Kilbourne. She did not +reach the point of regretting her adventure, but she grew mightily unhappy. Now +and then she espied dilapidated log cabins and surroundings even more squalid +than the ruined forest. What wretched abodes! Could it be possible that people +had lived in them? She imagined men had but hardly women and children. +Somewhere she had forgotten an idea that women and children were extremely +scarce in the West. +</p> + +<p> +Straggling bits of forest—yellow pines, the driver called the +trees—began to encroach upon the burned-over and arid barren land. To +Carley these groves, by reason of contrast and proof of what once was, only +rendered the landscape more forlorn and dreary. Why had these miles and miles +of forest been cut? By money grubbers, she supposed, the same as were +devastating the Adirondacks. Presently, when the driver had to halt to repair +or adjust something wrong with the harness, Carley was grateful for a respite +from cold inaction. She got out and walked. Sleet began to fall, and when she +resumed her seat in the vehicle she asked the driver for the blanket to cover +her. The smell of this horse blanket was less endurable than the cold. Carley +huddled down into a state of apathetic misery. Already she had enough of the +West. +</p> + +<p> +But the sleet storm passed, the clouds broke, the sun shone through, greatly +mitigating her discomfort. By and by the road led into a section of real +forest, unspoiled in any degree. Carley saw large gray squirrels with tufted +ears and white bushy tails. Presently the driver pointed out a flock of huge +birds, which Carley, on second glance, recognized as turkeys, only these were +sleek and glossy, with flecks of bronze and black and white, quite different +from turkeys back East. “There must be a farm near,” said Carley, +gazing about. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am. Them’s wild turkeys,” replied the driver, +“an’ shore the best eatin’ you ever had in your life.” +</p> + +<p> +A little while afterwards, as they were emerging from the woodland into more +denuded country, he pointed out to Carley a herd of gray white-rumped animals +that she took to be sheep. +</p> + +<p> +“An’ them’s antelope,” he said. “Once this desert +was overrun by antelope. Then they nearly disappeared. An’ now +they’re increasin’ again.” +</p> + +<p> +More barren country, more bad weather, and especially an exceedingly rough road +reduced Carley to her former state of dejection. The jolting over roots and +rocks and ruts was worse than uncomfortable. She had to hold on to the seat to +keep from being thrown out. The horses did not appreciably change their gait +for rough sections of the road. Then a more severe jolt brought Carley’s +knee in violent contact with an iron bolt on the forward seat, and it hurt her +so acutely that she had to bite her lips to keep from screaming. A smoother +stretch of road did not come any too soon for her. +</p> + +<p> +It led into forest again. And Carley soon became aware that they had at last +left the cut and burned-over district of timberland behind. A cold wind moaned +through the treetops and set the drops of water pattering down upon her. It +lashed her wet face. Carley closed her eyes and sagged in her seat, mostly +oblivious to the passing scenery. “The girls will never believe this of +me,” she soliloquized. And indeed she was amazed at herself. Then thought +of Glenn strengthened her. It did not really matter what she suffered on the +way to him. Only she was disgusted at her lack of stamina, and her appalling +sensitiveness to discomfort. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, hyar’s Oak Creek Canyon,” called the driver. +</p> + +<p> +Carley, rousing out of her weary preoccupation, opened her eyes to see that the +driver had halted at a turn of the road, where apparently it descended a +fearful declivity. +</p> + +<p> +The very forest-fringed earth seemed to have opened into a deep abyss, ribbed +by red rock walls and choked by steep mats of green timber. The chasm was a +V-shaped split and so deep that looking downward sent at once a chill and a +shudder over Carley. At that point it appeared narrow and ended in a box. In +the other direction, it widened and deepened, and stretched farther on between +tremendous walls of red, and split its winding floor of green with glimpses of +a gleaming creek, bowlder-strewn and ridged by white rapids. A low mellow roar +of rushing waters floated up to Carley’s ears. What a wild, lonely, +terrible place! Could Glenn possibly live down there in that ragged rent in the +earth? It frightened her—the sheer sudden plunge of it from the heights. +Far down the gorge a purple light shone on the forested floor. And on the +moment the sun burst through the clouds and sent a golden blaze down into the +depths, transforming them incalculably. The great cliffs turned gold, the creek +changed to glancing silver, the green of trees vividly freshened, and in the +clefts rays of sunlight burned into the blue shadows. Carley had never gazed +upon a scene like this. Hostile and prejudiced, she yet felt wrung from her an +acknowledgment of beauty and grandeur. But wild, violent, savage! Not livable! +This insulated rift in the crust of the earth was a gigantic burrow for beasts, +perhaps for outlawed men—not for a civilized person—not for Glenn +Kilbourne. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be scart, ma’am,” spoke up the driver. +“It’s safe if you’re careful. An’ I’ve druv this +manys the time.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted +assurance of fearlessness. Then the rickety vehicle started down at an angle +that forced her to cling to her seat. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"></a> +CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p> +Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin, gazed in +fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes the wheels on that +side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the edge. The brakes +squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the scrape of the iron-shod hoofs +of the horses as they held back stiff legged, obedient to the wary call of the +driver. +</p> + +<p> +The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff appeared to be +the worst. It began to widen, with descents less precipitous. Tips of trees +rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight of the blue depths. Then brush +appeared on each side of the road. Gradually Carley’s strain relaxed, and +also the muscular contraction by which she had braced herself in the seat. The +horses began to trot again. The wheels rattled. The road wound around abrupt +corners, and soon the green and red wall of the opposite side of the canyon +loomed close. Low roar of running water rose to Carley’s ears. When at +length she looked out instead of down she could see nothing but a mass of green +foliage crossed by tree trunks and branches of brown and gray. Then the vehicle +bowled under dark cool shade, into a tunnel with mossy wet cliff on one side, +and close-standing trees on the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon we’re all right now, onless we meet somebody comin’ +up,” declared the driver. +</p> + +<p> +Carley relaxed. She drew a deep breath of relief. She had her first faint +intimation that perhaps her extensive experience of motor cars, express trains, +transatlantic liners, and even a little of airplanes, did not range over the +whole of adventurous life. She was likely to meet something, entirely new and +striking out here in the West. +</p> + +<p> +The murmur of falling water sounded closer. Presently Carley saw that the road +turned at the notch in the canyon, and crossed a clear swift stream. Here were +huge mossy boulders, and red walls covered by lichens, and the air appeared dim +and moist, and full of mellow, hollow roar. Beyond this crossing the road +descended the west side of the canyon, drawing away and higher from the creek. +Huge trees, the like of which Carley had never seen, began to stand +majestically up out of the gorge, dwarfing the maples and white-spotted +sycamores. The driver called these great trees yellow pines. +</p> + +<p> +At last the road led down from the steep slope to the floor of the canyon. What +from far above had appeared only a green timber-choked cleft proved from close +relation to be a wide winding valley, tip and down, densely forested for the +most part, yet having open glades and bisected from wall to wall by the creek. +Every quarter of a mile or so the road crossed the stream; and at these fords +Carley again held on desperately and gazed out dubiously, for the creek was +deep, swift, and full of bowlders. Neither driver nor horses appeared to mind +obstacles. Carley was splashed and jolted not inconsiderably. They passed +through groves of oak trees, from which the creek manifestly derived its name; +and under gleaming walls, cold, wet, gloomy, and silent; and between lines of +solemn wide-spreading pines. Carley saw deep, still green pools eddying under +huge massed jumble of cliffs, and stretches of white water, and then, high +above the treetops, a wild line of canyon rim, cold against the sky. She felt +shut in from the world, lost in an unscalable rut of the earth. Again the +sunlight had failed, and the gray gloom of the canyon oppressed her. It struck +Carley as singular that she could not help being affected by mere weather, mere +heights and depths, mere rock walls and pine trees, and rushing water. For +really, what had these to do with her? These were only physical things that she +was passing. Nevertheless, although she resisted sensation, she was more and +more shot through and through with the wildness and savageness of this canyon. +</p> + +<p> +A sharp turn of the road to the right disclosed a slope down the creek, across +which showed orchards and fields, and a cottage nestling at the base of the +wall. The ford at this crossing gave Carley more concern than any that had been +passed, for there was greater volume and depth of water. One of the horses +slipped on the rocks, plunged up and on with great splash. They crossed, +however, without more mishap to Carley than further acquaintance with this +iciest of waters. From this point the driver turned back along the creek, +passed between orchards and fields, and drove along the base of the red wall to +come suddenly upon a large rustic house that had been hidden from +Carley’s sight. It sat almost against the stone cliff, from which poured +a white foamy sheet of water. The house was built of slabs with the bark on, +and it had a lower and upper porch running all around, at least as far as the +cliff. Green growths from the rock wall overhung the upper porch. A column of +blue smoke curled lazily upward from a stone chimney. On one of the porch posts +hung a sign with rude lettering: “Lolomi Lodge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hey, Josh, did you fetch the flour?” called a woman’s voice +from inside. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo I Reckon I didn’t forgit nothin’,” replied the +man, as he got down. “An’ say, Mrs. Hutter, hyar’s a young +lady from Noo Yorrk.” +</p> + +<p> +That latter speech of the driver’s brought Mrs. Hutter out on the porch. +“Flo, come here,” she called to some one evidently near at hand. +And then she smilingly greeted Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Get down an’ come in, miss,” she said. “I’m sure +glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley, being stiff and cold, did not very gracefully disengage herself from +the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch she saw that Mrs. +Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, with strong face full of fine +wavy lines, and kind dark eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Miss Burch,” said Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his +fireplace,” declared the woman, heartily. “I’m sure glad to +meet you, an’ my daughter Flo will be, too.” +</p> + +<p> +That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. “Yes, I’m Glenn +Kilbourne’s fiancée. I’ve come West to surprise him. Is he here.... +Is—is he well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fine. I saw him yesterday. He’s changed a great deal from what he +was at first. Most all the last few months. I reckon you won’t know +him.... But you’re wet an’ cold an’ you look fagged. Come +right in to the fire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you; I’m all right,” returned Carley. +</p> + +<p> +At the doorway they encountered a girl of lithe and robust figure, quick in her +movements. Carley was swift to see the youth and grace of her; and then a face +that struck Carley as neither pretty nor beautiful, but still wonderfully +attractive. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, here’s Miss Burch,” burst out Mrs. Hutter, with +cheerful importance. “Glenn Kilbourne’s girl come all the way from +New York to surprise him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Carley, I’m shore happy to meet you!” said the girl, in +a voice of slow drawling richness. “I know you. Glenn has told me all +about you.” +</p> + +<p> +If this greeting, sweet and warm as it seemed, was a shock to Carley, she gave +no sign. But as she murmured something in reply she looked with all a +woman’s keenness into the face before her. Flo Hutter had a fair skin +generously freckled; a mouth and chin too firmly cut to suggest a softer +feminine beauty; and eyes of clear light hazel, penetrating, frank, fearless. +Her hair was very abundant, almost silver-gold in color, and it was either +rebellious or showed lack of care. Carley liked the girl’s looks and +liked the sincerity of her greeting; but instinctively she reacted +antagonistically because of the frank suggestion of intimacy with Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +But for that she would have been spontaneous and friendly rather than +restrained. +</p> + +<p> +They ushered Carley into a big living room and up to a fire of blazing logs, +where they helped divest her of the wet wraps. And all the time they talked in +the solicitous way natural to women who were kind and unused to many visitors. +Then Mrs. Hutter bustled off to make a cup of hot coffee while Flo talked. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll shore give you the nicest room—with a sleeping porch +right under the cliff where the water falls. It’ll sing you to sleep. Of +course you needn’t use the bed outdoors until it’s warmer. Spring +is late here, you know, and we’ll have nasty weather yet. You really +happened on Oak Creek at its least attractive season. But then it’s +always—well, just Oak Creek. You’ll come to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say I’ll remember my first sight of it and the ride down +that cliff road,” said Carley, with a wan smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s nothing to what you’ll see and do,” +returned Flo, knowingly. “We’ve had Eastern tenderfeet here before. +And never was there a one of them who didn’t come to love Arizona.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tenderfoot! It hadn’t occurred to me. But of course—” +murmured Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Then Mrs. Hutter returned, carrying a tray, which she set upon a chair, and +drew to Carley’s side. “Eat an’ drink,” she said, as if +these actions were the cardinally important ones of life. “Flo, you carry +her bags up to that west room we always give to some particular person we want +to love Lolomi.” Next she threw sticks of wood upon the fire, making it +crackle and blaze, then seated herself near Carley and beamed upon her. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll not mind if we call you Carley?” she asked, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, indeed no! I—I’d like it,” returned Carley, made +to feel friendly and at home in spite of herself. +</p> + +<p> +“You see it’s not as if you were just a stranger,” went on +Mrs. Hutter. “Tom—that’s Flo’s father—took a +likin’ to Glenn Kilbourne when he first came to Oak Creek over a year +ago. I wonder if you all know how sick that soldier boy was.... Well, he lay on +his back for two solid weeks—in the room we’re givin’ you. +An’ I for one didn’t think he’d ever get up. But he did. +An’ he got better. An’ after a while he went to work for Tom. Then +six months an’ more ago he invested in the sheep business with Tom. He +lived with us until he built his cabin up West Fork. He an’ Flo have run +together a good deal, an’ naturally he told her about you. So you see +you’re not a stranger. An’ we want you to feel you’re with +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, Mrs. Hutter,” replied Carley, feelingly. “I +never could thank you enough for being good to Glenn. I did not know he was +so—so sick. At first he wrote but seldom.” +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon he never wrote you or told you what he did in the war,” +declared Mrs. Hutter. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed he never did!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll tell you some day. For Tom found out all about him. Got +some of it from a soldier who came to Flagstaff for lung trouble. He’d +been in the same company with Glenn. We didn’t know this boy’s name +while he was in Flagstaff. But later Tom found out. John Henderson. He was only +twenty-two, a fine lad. An’ he died in Phœnix. We tried to get him out +here. But the boy wouldn’t live on charity. He was always expectin’ +money—a war bonus, whatever that was. It didn’t come. He was a +clerk at the El Tovar for a while. Then he came to Flagstaff. But it was too +cold an’ he stayed there too long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too bad,” rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to +the suffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few months, +and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress Carley. Always she had +turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery of unfortunates was as +disturbing almost as direct contact with disease and squalor. But it had begun +to dawn upon Carley that there might occur circumstances of life, in every way +affronting her comfort and happiness, which it would be impossible to turn her +back upon. +</p> + +<p> +At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struck with the +girl’s singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure poise and joy +that seemed to emanate from her presence. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve made a fire in your little stove,” she said. +“There’s water heating. Now won’t you come up and change +those traveling clothes. You’ll want to fix up for Glenn, won’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank and unsophisticated, +and somehow refreshing. Carley rose. +</p> + +<p> +“You are both very good to receive me as a friend,” she said. +“I hope I shall not disappoint you.... Yes, I do want to improve my +appearance before Glenn sees me.... Is there any way I can send word to +him—by someone who has not seen me?” +</p> + +<p> +“There shore is. I’ll send Charley, one of our hired boys.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York to +see him, and it is very important.” +</p> + +<p> +Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gave Carley a +little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust and stifling thing. +</p> + +<p> +Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallway to a room +that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of falling water assailed her +ears. Through the open door she saw across the porch to a white tumbling lacy +veil of water falling, leaping, changing, so close that it seemed to touch the +heavy pole railing of the porch. +</p> + +<p> +This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no ceiling. But +the rough-hewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped down closely. The +furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the floor. The bed with its +woolly clean blankets and the white pillows looked inviting. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this where Glenn lay—when he was sick?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. +“I ought to tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be +made unhappy now.... Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his +side—for a while there—when life was so bad.” +</p> + +<p> +She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short billets of +wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep an eye on it so +that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to herself. +</p> + +<p> +Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of her heart +every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon now to be, but it was +not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have a difficult approach to +undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was so different from her regular +life. Besides she was tired. But these explanations did not suffice. There was +a pang in her breast which must owe its origin to the fact that Glenn Kilbourne +had been ill in this little room and some other girl than Carley Burch had +nursed him. “Am I jealous?” she whispered. “No!” But +she knew in her heart that she lied. A woman could no more help being jealous, +under such circumstances, than she could help the beat and throb of her blood. +Nevertheless, Carley was glad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she would +be grateful to her for that kindness. +</p> + +<p> +Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bags and hung +her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then she lay down to rest, +with no intention of slumber. But there was a strange magic in the fragrance of +the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in the feel of the bed, and +especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur of the waterfall. She fell asleep. +When she awakened it was five o’clock. The fire in the stove was out, but +the water was still warm. She bathed and dressed, not without care, yet as +swiftly as was her habit at home; and she wore white because Glenn had always +liked her best in white. But it was assuredly not a gown to wear in a country +house where draughts of cold air filled the unheated rooms and halls. So she +threw round her a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful bars becoming to her dark +eyes and hair. +</p> + +<p> +All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be +permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of waking +life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, could be wholly free +of that sound. It vaguely tormented Carley, yet was not uncomfortable. She went +out upon the porch. The small alcove space held a bed and a rustic chair. Above +her the peeled poles of the roof descended to within a few feet of her head. +She had to lean over the rail of the porch to look up. The green and red rock +wall sheered ponderously near. The waterfall showed first at the notch of a +fissure, where the cliff split; and down over smooth places the water gleamed, +to narrow in a crack with little drops, and suddenly to leap into a thin white +sheet. +</p> + +<p> +Out from the porch the view was restricted to glimpses between the pines, and +beyond to the opposite wall of the canyon. How shut-in, how walled in this +home! +</p> + +<p> +“In summer it might be good to spend a couple of weeks here,” +soliloquized Carley. “But to <i>live</i> here? Heavens! A person might as +well be buried.” +</p> + +<p> +Heavy footsteps upon the porch below accompanied by a man’s voice +quickened Carley’s pulse. Did they belong to Glenn? After a strained +second she decided not. Nevertheless, the acceleration of her blood and an +unwonted glow of excitement, long a stranger to her, persisted as she left the +porch and entered the boarded hall. How gray and barn-like this upper part of +the house! From the head of the stairway, however, the big living room +presented a cheerful contrast. There were warm colors, some comfortable +rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and an open fire which alone would +have dispelled the raw gloom of the day. +</p> + +<p> +A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had a +clean-shaven face that might have been hard and stern but for his smile, and +one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo’s. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Tom Hutter, an’ I’m shore glad to welcome you to +Lolomi, Miss Carley,” he said. His voice was deep and slow. There were +ease and force in his presence, and the grip he gave Carley’s hand was +that of a man who made no distinction in hand-shaking. Carley, quick in her +perceptions, instantly liked him and sensed in him a strong personality. She +greeted him in turn and expressed her thanks for his goodness to Glenn. +Naturally Carley expected him to say something about her fiance, but he did +not. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Miss Carley, if you don’t mind, I’ll say you’re +prettier than your picture,” said Hutter. “An’ that is shore +sayin’ a lot. All the sheep herders in the country have taken a peep at +your picture. Without permission, you understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m greatly flattered,” laughed Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re glad you’ve come,” replied Hutter, simply. +“I just got back from the East myself. Chicago an’ Kansas City. I +came to Arizona from Illinois over thirty years ago. An’ this was my +first trip since. Reckon I’ve not got back my breath yet. Times have +changed, Miss Carley. Times an’ people!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hutter bustled in from the kitchen, where manifestly she had been +importantly engaged. “For the land’s sakes!” she exclaimed, +fervently, as she threw up her hands at sight of Carley. Her expression was +indeed a compliment, but there was a suggestion of shock in it. Then Flo came +in. She wore a simple gray gown that reached the top of her high shoes. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, don’t mind mother,” said Flo. “She means your +dress is lovely. Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn +comin’ up the road.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tall man +striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was his walk—an +erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible. She recognized +Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. She watched him cross the +road, face the house. How changed! No—this was not Glenn Kilbourne. This +was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughly garbed, heavy limbed, quite +different from the Glenn she remembered. He mounted the porch steps. And +Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face. Yes—Glenn! Hot blood seemed +to be tingling liberated in her veins. Wheeling away, she backed against the +wall behind the door and held up a warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. +Strange and disturbing then, to see something in Flo Hutter’s eyes that +could be read by a woman in only one way! +</p> + +<p> +A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo!—who—where?” he began, breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley’s +ears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled out that +she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably changed—not in +the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm, but in contour of +cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line. Carley’s heart swelled +with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see the sad fixed hopelessness, the +havoc, gone from his face. Therefore the restraint and nonchalance upon which +Carley prided herself sustained eclipse. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn! Look—who’s—here!” she called, in voice +she could not have steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she +had anticipated. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then—no matter how +unreasonable or exacting had been Carley’s longings, they were satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +“You!” he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face. +</p> + +<p> +Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but forgot +them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than the all-satisfying +assurance to her woman’s heart that she was still beloved, welled up a +deep, strange, profound something that shook her to her depths. It was beyond +selfishness. It was gratitude to God and to the West that had restored him. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley! I couldn’t believe it was you,” he declared, +releasing her from his close embrace, yet still holding her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Glenn—it’s I—all you’ve left of me,” +she replied, tremulously, and she sought with unsteady hands to put up her +dishevelled hair. “You—you big sheep herder! You Goliath!” +</p> + +<p> +“I never was so knocked off my pins,” he said. “A lady to see +me—from New York!... Of course it had to be you. But I couldn’t +believe. Carley, you were good to come.” +</p> + +<p> +Somehow the soft, warm look of his dark eyes hurt her. New and strange indeed +it was to her, as were other things about him. Why had she not come West +sooner? She disengaged herself from his hold and moved away, striving for the +composure habitual with her. Flo Hutter was standing before the fire, looking +down. Mrs. Hutter beamed upon Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let’s have supper,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon Miss Carley can’t eat now, after that hug Glenn gave +her,” drawled Tom Hutter. “I was some worried. You see Glenn has +gained seventy pounds in six months. An’ he doesn’t know his +strength.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seventy pounds!” exclaimed Carley, gayly. “I thought it was +more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you must excuse my violence,” said Glenn. +“I’ve been hugging sheep. That is, when I shear a sheep I have to +hold him.” +</p> + +<p> +They all laughed, and so the moment of readjustment passed. Presently Carley +found herself sitting at table, directly across from Flo. A pearly whiteness +was slowly warming out of the girl’s face. Her frank clear eyes met +Carley’s and they had nothing to hide. Carley’s first requisite for +character in a woman was that she be a thoroughbred. She lacked it often enough +herself to admire it greatly in another woman. And that moment saw a birth of +respect and sincere liking in her for this Western girl. If Flo Hutter ever was +a rival she would be an honest one. +</p> + +<p> +Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he “reckoned +on general principles it was his hunch to go to bed.” Mrs. Hutter +suddenly discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her cool sweet +drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, “Shore you two will want to +spoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for +that,” declared Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“Too bad! Reckon I can’t see how love could ever be old-fashioned. +Good night, Glenn. Good night, Carley.” +</p> + +<p> +Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the light from the +lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to Carley. It expressed +unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up the stairs to disappear. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, is that girl in love with you?” asked Carley, bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilled her, yet +nettled her a little. +</p> + +<p> +“If that isn’t like you!” he ejaculated. “Your very +first words after we are left alone! It brings back the East, Carley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably recall to memory will be good for you,” returned Carley. +“But tell me. Is she in love with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no, certainly not!” replied Glenn. “Anyway, how could I +answer such a question? It just made me laugh, that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a pretty +girl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle—before we became +engaged,” said Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Old times! How long ago they seem!... Carley, it’s sure wonderful +to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you like my gown?” asked Carley, pirouetting for his +benefit. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what little there is of it is beautiful,” he replied, with a +slow smile. “I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I got the gown for you. And I’ll never wear it except for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Same old coquette—same old eternal feminine,” he said, half +sadly. “You know when you look stunning.... But, Carley, the cut of +that—or rather the abbreviation of it—inclines me to think that +style for women’s clothes has not changed for the better. In fact, +it’s worse than two years ago in Paris and later in New York. Where will +you women draw the line?” +</p> + +<p> +“Women are slaves to the prevailing mode,” rejoined Carley. +“I don’t imagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion +went on dictating.” +</p> + +<p> +“But would they care so much—if they had to work—plenty of +work—and children?” inquired Glenn, wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn! Work and children for modern women? Why, you are dreaming!” +said Carley, with a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +She saw him gaze thoughtfully into the glowing embers of the fire, and as she +watched him her quick intuition grasped a subtle change in his mood. It brought +a sternness to his face. She could hardly realize she was looking at the Glenn +Kilbourne of old. +</p> + +<p> +“Come close to the fire,” he said, and pulled up a chair for her. +Then he threw more wood upon the red coals. “You must be careful not to +catch cold out here. The altitude makes a cold dangerous. And that gown is no +protection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, one chair used to be enough for us,” she said, archly, +standing beside him. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not respond to her hint, and, a little affronted, she accepted the +proffered chair. Then he began to ask questions rapidly. He was eager for news +from home—from his people—from old friends. However he did not +inquire of Carley about her friends. She talked unremittingly for an hour, +before she satisfied his hunger. But when her turn came to ask questions she +found him reticent. +</p> + +<p> +He had fallen upon rather hard days at first out here in the West; then his +health had begun to improve; and as soon as he was able to work his condition +rapidly changed for the better; and now he was getting along pretty well. +Carley felt hurt at his apparent disinclination to confide in her. The strong +cast of his face, as if it had been chiseled in bronze; the stern set of his +lips and the jaw that protruded lean and square cut; the quiet masked light of +his eyes; the coarse roughness of his brown hands, mute evidence of strenuous +labors—these all gave a different impression from his brief remarks about +himself. Lastly there was a little gray in the light-brown hair over his +temples. Glenn was only twenty-seven, yet he looked ten years older. Studying +him so, with the memory of earlier years in her mind, she was forced to admit +that she liked him infinitely more as he was now. He seemed proven. Something +had made him a man. Had it been his love for her, or the army service, or the +war in France, or the struggle for life and health afterwards? Or had it been +this rugged, uncouth West? Carley felt insidious jealousy of this last +possibility. She feared this West. She was going to hate it. She had womanly +intuition enough to see in Flo Hutter a girl somehow to be reckoned with. +Still, Carley would not acknowledge to herself that his simple, unsophisticated +Western girl could possibly be a rival. Carley did not need to consider the +fact that she had been spoiled by the attention of men. It was not her vanity +that precluded Flo Hutter as a rival. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually the conversation drew to a lapse, and it suited Carley to let it be +so. She watched Glenn as he gazed thoughtfully into the amber depths of the +fire. What was going on in his mind? Carley’s old perplexity suddenly had +rebirth. And with it came an unfamiliar fear which she could not smother. Every +moment that she sat there beside Glenn she was realizing more and more a +yearning, passionate love for him. The unmistakable manifestation of his joy at +sight of her, the strong, almost rude expression of his love, had called to +some responsive, but hitherto unplumbed deeps of her. If it had not been for +these undeniable facts Carley would have been panic-stricken. They reassured +her, yet only made her state of mind more dissatisfied. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, do you still go in for dancing?” Glenn asked, presently, +with his thoughtful eyes turning to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. I like dancing, and it’s about all the exercise I +get,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Have the dances changed—again?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the music, perhaps, that changes the dancing. Jazz is +becoming popular. And about all the crowd dances now is an infinite variation +of fox-trot.” +</p> + +<p> +“No waltzing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe I waltzed once this winter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jazz? That’s a sort of tinpanning, jiggly stuff, isn’t +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, it’s the fever of the public pulse,” replied Carley. +“The graceful waltz, like the stately minuet, flourished back in the days +when people rested rather than raced.” +</p> + +<p> +“More’s the pity,” said Glenn. Then after a moment, in which +his gaze returned to the fire, he inquired rather too casually, “Does +Morrison still chase after you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I’m neither old—nor married,” she replied, +laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“No, that’s true. But if you were married it wouldn’t make +any difference to Morrison.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley could not detect bitterness or jealousy in his voice. She would not have +been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark, however, that he +was going to be harder than ever to understand. What had she said or done to +make him retreat within himself, aloof, impersonal, unfamiliar? He did not +impress her as loverlike. What irony of fate was this that held her there +yearning for his kisses and caresses as never before, while he watched the +fire, and talked as to a mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and far away? Or did +she merely imagine that? Only one thing could she be sure of at that moment, +and it was that pride would never be her ally. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, look here,” she said, sliding her chair close to his and +holding out her left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond on the +third finger. +</p> + +<p> +He took her hand in his and pressed it, and smiled at her. “Yes, Carley, +it’s a beautiful, soft little hand. But I think I’d like it better +if it were strong and brown, and coarse on the inside—from useful +work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like Flo Hutter’s?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley looked proudly into his eyes. “People are born in different +stations. I respect your little Western friend, Glenn, but could I wash and +sweep, milk cows and chop wood, and all that sort of thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you couldn’t,” he admitted, with a blunt little +laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you want me to?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s hard to say,” he replied, knitting his brows. +“I hardly know. I think it depends on you.... But if you did do such work +wouldn’t you be happier?” +</p> + +<p> +“Happier! Why Glenn, I’d be miserable!... But listen. It +wasn’t my beautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my +engagement ring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!—Well?” he went on, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never had it off since you left New York,” she said, +softly. “You gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on my +twenty-second birthday. You said it would take two months’ salary to pay +the bill.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sure did,” he retorted, with a hint of humor. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, during the war it was not so—so very hard to wear this ring +as an engagement ring should be worn,” said Carley, growing more earnest. +“But after the war—especially after your departure West it was +terribly hard to be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was +a let-down in all women. Oh, no one need tell <i>me!</i> There was. And men +were affected by that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York was wild +during the year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.—Well, I gadded, +danced, dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same as the other women in +our crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested. Excitement seemed to be +happiness—Glenn, I am not making any plea to excuse all that. But I want +you to know—how under trying circumstances—I was absolutely true to +you. Understand me. I mean true as regards love. Through it all I loved you +just the same. And now I’m with you, it seems, oh, so much more!... Your +last letter hurt me. I don’t know just how. But I came West to see +you—to tell you this—and to ask you.... Do you want this ring +back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not,” he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading +over his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Then—you love me?” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I love you,” he returned, deliberately. “And in +spite of all you say—very probably more than you love me.... But you, +like all women, make love and its expression the sole object of life. Carley, I +have been concerned with keeping my body from the grave and my soul from +hell.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—dear—you’re well now?” she returned, with +trembling lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ve almost pulled out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what is wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wrong?—With me or you,” he queried, with keen, enigmatical +glance upon her. +</p> + +<p> +“What is wrong between us? There is something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, a man who has been on the verge—as I have +been—seldom or never comes back to happiness. But perhaps—” +</p> + +<p> +“You frighten me,” cried Carley, and, rising, she sat upon the arm +of his chair and encircled his neck with her arms. “How can I help if I +do not understand? Am I so miserably little?... Glenn, <i>must</i> I tell you? +No woman can live without love. I need to be loved. That’s all +that’s wrong with <i>me</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you are still an imperious, mushy girl,” replied Glenn, +taking her into his arms. “I need to be loved, too. But that’s not +what is wrong with me. You’ll have to find it out yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a dear old Sphinx,” she retorted. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, Carley,” he said, earnestly. “About this love-making +stuff. Please don’t misunderstand me. I love you. I’m starved for +your kisses. But—is it right to ask them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Right! Aren’t we engaged? And don’t I want to give +them?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were only <i>sure</i> we’d be married!” he said, in +low, tense voice, as if speaking more to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Married!” cried Carley, convulsively clasping him. “Of +course we’ll be married. Glenn, you wouldn’t jilt me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, what I mean is that you might never really marry me,” he +answered, seriously. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, if that’s all you need be sure of, Glenn Kilbourne, you may +begin to make love to me now.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +It was late when Carley went up to her room. And she was in such a softened +mood, so happy and excited and yet disturbed in mind, that the coldness and the +darkness did not matter in the least. She undressed in pitchy blackness, +stumbling over chair and bed, feeling for what she needed. And in her mood this +unusual proceeding was fun. When ready for bed she opened the door to take a +peep out. Through the dense blackness the waterfall showed dimly opaque. Carley +felt a soft mist wet her face. The low roar of the falling water seemed to +envelop her. Under the cliff wall brooded impenetrable gloom. But out above the +treetops shone great stars, wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a +piercing contrast to the deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed into an +absolutely dead silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only cold was it that +made Carley shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden this canyon! +</p> + +<p> +Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets. Relaxation and +thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood, the beat and throb and +swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. In the lonely darkness of her +room she might have faced the truth of her strangely renewed and augmented love +for Glenn Kilbourne. But she was more concerned with her happiness. She had won +him back. Her presence, her love had overcome his restraint. She thrilled in +the sweet consciousness of her woman’s conquest. How splendid he was! To +hold back physical tenderness, the simple expressions of love, because he had +feared they might unduly influence her! He had grown in many ways. She must be +careful to reach up to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter’s toil-hardened +hands! Was that significance somehow connected with the rift in the lute? For +Carley admitted to herself that there was something amiss, something +incomprehensible, something intangible that obtruded its menace into her dream +of future happiness. Still, what had she to fear, so long as she could be with +Glenn? +</p> + +<p> +And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, the +questions—was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blind to +something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to come held promise +of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise they seemed full of a portent +of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, of lessons that would make life +significant for her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></a> +CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p> +Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room. The raising of sleepy +eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, in the act of +lighting a fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Mawnin’, Carley,” she drawled. “It’s shore cold. +Reckon it’ll snow today, worse luck, just because you’re here. Take +my hunch and stay in bed till the fire burns up.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall do no such thing,” declared Carley, heroically. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re afraid you’ll take cold,” said Flo. “This +is desert country with high altitude. Spring is here when the sun shines. But +it’s only shinin’ in streaks these days. That means winter, really. +Please be good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it doesn’t require much self-denial to stay here awhile +longer,” replied Carley, lazily. +</p> + +<p> +Flo left with a parting admonition not to let the stove get red-hot. And Carley +lay snuggled in the warm blankets, dreading the ordeal of getting out into that +cold bare room. Her nose was cold. When her nose grew cold, it being a faithful +barometer as to temperature, Carley knew there was frost in the air. She +preferred summer. Steam-heated rooms with hothouse flowers lending their +perfume had certainly not trained Carley for primitive conditions. She had a +spirit, however, that was waxing a little rebellious to all this intimation as +to her susceptibility to colds and her probable weakness under privation. +Carley got up. Her bare feet landed upon the board floor instead of the Navajo +rug, and she thought she had encountered cold stone. Stove and hot water +notwithstanding, by the time she was half dressed she was also half frozen. +“Some actor fellow once said w-when you w-went West you were c-camping +out,” chattered Carley. “Believe me, he said something.” +</p> + +<p> +The fact was Carley had never camped out. Her set played golf, rode horseback, +motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for uncomfortable trips. +The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as warm and luxurious as +Carley’s own home. Carley now missed many things. And assuredly her flesh +was weak. It cost her effort of will and real pain to finish lacing her boots. +As she had made an engagement with Glenn to visit his cabin, she had donned an +outdoor suit. She wondered if the cold had anything to do with the perceptible +diminishing of the sound of the waterfall. Perhaps some of the water had +frozen, like her fingers. +</p> + +<p> +Carley went downstairs to the living room, and made no effort to resist a rush +to the open fire. Flo and her mother were amused at Carley’s impetuosity. +“You’ll like that stingin’ of the air after you get used to +it,” said Mrs. Hutter. Carley had her doubts. When she was thoroughly +thawed out she discovered an appetite quite unusual for her, and she enjoyed +her breakfast. Then it was time to sally forth to meet Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s pretty sharp this mawnin’,” said Flo. +“You’ll need gloves and sweater.” +</p> + +<p> +Having fortified herself with these, Carley asked how to find West Fork Canyon. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s down the road a little way,” replied Flo. “A +great narrow canyon opening on the right side. You can’t miss it.” +</p> + +<p> +Flo accompanied her as far as the porch steps. A queer-looking individual was +slouching along with ax over his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s Charley,” said Flo. “He’ll show +you.” Then she whispered: “He’s sort of dotty sometimes. A +horse kicked him once. But mostly he’s sensible.” +</p> + +<p> +At Flo’s call the fellow halted with a grin. He was long, lean, loose +jointed, dressed in blue overalls stuck into the tops of muddy boots, and his +face was clear olive without beard or line. His brow bulged a little, and from +under it peered out a pair of wistful brown eyes that reminded Carley of those +of a dog she had once owned. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, it ain’t a-goin’ to be a nice day,” remarked +Charley, as he tried to accommodate his strides to Carley’s steps. +</p> + +<p> +“How can you tell?” asked Carley. “It looks clear and +bright.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naw, this is a dark mawnin’. Thet’s a cloudy sun. +We’ll hev snow on an’ off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mind bad weather?” +</p> + +<p> +“Me? All the same to me. Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf +round a big fire at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I like a big fire, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ever camped out?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not what you’d call the real thing,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, thet’s too bad. Reckon it’ll be tough fer you,” +he went on, kindly. “There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago +an’ she had a hell of a time. They all joked her, ’cept me, +an’ played tricks on her. An’ on her side she was always +puttin’ her foot in it. I was shore sorry fer her.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were very kind to be an exception,” murmured Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“You look out fer Tom Hutter, an’ I reckon Flo ain’t so darn +above layin’ traps fer you. ’Specially as she’s sweet on your +beau. I seen them together a lot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” interrogated Carley, encouragingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek. I +helped him build his cabin. We’ve hunted some together. Did you ever +hunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you’ve shore missed a lot of fun,” he said. +“Turkey huntin’. Thet’s what fetches the gurls. I reckon +because turkeys are so good to eat. The old gobblers hev begun to gobble now. +I’ll take you gobbler huntin’ if you’d like to go.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I would.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s good trout fishin’ along heah a little later,” +he said, pointing to the stream. “Crick’s too high now. I like West +Fork best. I’ve ketched some lammin’ big ones up there.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley was amused and interested. She could not say that Charley had shown any +indication of his mental peculiarity to her. It took considerable restraint not +to lead him to talk more about Flo and Glenn. Presently they reached the turn +in the road, opposite the cottage Carley had noticed yesterday, and here her +loquacious escort halted. +</p> + +<p> +“You take the trail heah,” he said, pointing it out, +“an’ foller it into West Fork. So long, an’ don’t +forget we’re goin’ huntin’ turkeys.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley smiled her thanks, and, taking to the trail, she stepped out briskly, +now giving attention to her surroundings. The canyon had widened, and the creek +with its deep thicket of green and white had sheered to the left. On her right +the canyon wall appeared to be lifting higher—and higher. She could not +see it well, owing to intervening treetops. The trail led her through a grove +of maples and sycamores, out into an open park-like bench that turned to the +right toward the cliff. Suddenly Carley saw a break in the red wall. It was the +intersecting canyon, West Fork. What a narrow red-walled gateway! Huge pine +trees spread wide gnarled branches over her head. The wind made soft rush in +their tops, sending the brown needles lightly on the air. Carley turned the +bulging corner, to be halted by a magnificent spectacle. It seemed a mountain +wall loomed over her. It was the western side of this canyon, so lofty that +Carley had to tip back her head to see the top. She swept her astonished gaze +down the face of this tremendous red mountain wall and then slowly swept it +upward again. This phenomenon of a cliff seemed beyond the comprehension of her +sight. It looked a mile high. The few trees along its bold rampart resembled +short spear-pointed bushes outlined against the steel gray of sky. Ledges, +caves, seams, cracks, fissures, beetling red brows, yellow crumbling crags, +benches of green growths and niches choked with brush, and bold points where +single lonely pine trees grew perilously, and blank walls a thousand feet +across their shadowed faces—these features gradually took shape in +Carley’s confused sight, until the colossal mountain front stood up +before her in all its strange, wild, magnificent ruggedness and beauty. +</p> + +<p> +“Arizona! Perhaps this is what he meant,” murmured Carley. “I +never dreamed of anything like this.... But, oh! it overshadows me—bears +me down! I could never have a moment’s peace under it.” +</p> + +<p> +It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with their +remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest there, if that +were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There were places, then, that +the desecrating hands of man could not touch. The dark caves were mystically +potent in their vacant staring out at the world beneath them. The crumbling +crags, the toppling ledges, the leaning rocks all threatened to come thundering +down at the breath of wind. How deep and soft the red color in contrast with +the green! How splendid the sheer bold uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found +herself marveling at the forces that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left +this monument to nature. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!” called a gay voice. “If the +back wall of my yard so halts you—what will you ever do when you see the +Painted Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand +Canyon?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Glenn, where are you?” cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at +hand. But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived her. +Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek she had not +before noticed. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on,” he called. “I want to see you cross the stepping +stones.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley ran ahead, down a little slope of clean red rock, to the shore of the +green water. It was clear, swift, deep in some places and shallow in others, +with white wreathes or ripples around the rocks evidently placed there as a +means to cross. Carley drew back aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I could never make it,” she called. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on, my Alpine climber,” he taunted. “Will you let +Arizona daunt you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want me to fall in and catch cold?” she cried, desperately. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, big women might even cross the bad places of modern life on +stepping stones of their dead selves!” he went on, with something of +mockery. “Surely a few physical steps are not beyond you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say, are you mangling <i>Tennyson</i> or just kidding me?” she +demanded slangily. +</p> + +<p> +“My love, Flo could cross here with her eyes shut.” +</p> + +<p> +That thrust spurred Carley to action. His words were jest, yet they held a hint +of earnest. With her heart at her throat Carley stepped on the first rock, and, +poising, she calculated on a running leap from stone to stone. Once launched, +she felt she was falling downhill. She swayed, she splashed, she slipped; and +clearing the longest leap from the last stone to shore she lost her balance and +fell into Glenn’s arms. His kisses drove away both her panic and her +resentment. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! I didn’t think you’d even attempt it!” he +declared, manifestly pleased. “I made sure I’d have to pack you +over—in fact, rather liked the idea.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t advise you to employ any such means again—to dare +me,” she retorted. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a nifty outdoor suit you’ve on,” he said, +admiringly. “I was wondering what you’d wear. I like short outing +skirts for women, rather than trousers. The service sort of made the fair sex +dippy about pants.” +</p> + +<p> +“It made them dippy about more than that,” she replied. “You +and I will never live to see the day that women recover their balance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree with you,” replied Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +Carley locked her arm in his. “Honey, I want to have a good time today. +Cut out all the <i>other</i> women stuff.... Take me to see your little gray +home in the West. Or is it gray?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “Why, yes, it’s gray, just about. The logs have +bleached some.” +</p> + +<p> +Glenn led her away up a trail that climbed between bowlders, and meandered on +over piny mats of needles under great, silent, spreading pines; and closer to +the impondering mountain wall, where at the base of the red rock the creek +murmured strangely with hollow gurgle, where the sun had no chance to affect +the cold damp gloom; and on through sweet-smelling woods, out into the sunlight +again, and across a wider breadth of stream; and up a slow slope covered with +stately pines, to a little cabin that faced the west. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are, sweetheart,” said Glenn. “Now we shall see what +you are made of.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley was non-committal as to that. Her intense interest precluded any humor +at this moment. Not until she actually saw the log cabin Glenn had erected with +his own hands had she been conscious of any great interest. But sight of it +awoke something unaccustomed in Carley. As she stepped into the cabin her heart +was not acting normally for a young woman who had no illusions about love in a +cottage. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn’s cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty long. +Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There was a small +window opposite the door. In one corner was a couch of poles, with green tips +of pine boughs peeping from under the blankets. The floor consisted of flat +rocks laid irregularly, with many spaces of earth showing between. The open +fireplace appeared too large for the room, but the very bigness of it, as well +as the blazing sticks and glowing embers, appealed strongly to Carley. A +rough-hewn log formed the mantel, and on it Carley’s picture held the +place of honor. Above this a rifle lay across deer antlers. Carley paused here +in her survey long enough to kiss Glenn and point to her photograph. +</p> + +<p> +“You couldn’t have pleased me more.” +</p> + +<p> +To the left of the fireplace was a rude cupboard of shelves, packed with boxes, +cans, bags, and utensils. Below the cupboard, hung upon pegs, were blackened +pots and pans, a long-handled skillet, and a bucket. Glenn’s table was a +masterpiece. There was no danger of knocking it over. It consisted of four +poles driven into the ground, upon which had been nailed two wide slabs. This +table showed considerable evidence of having been scrubbed scrupulously clean. +There were two low stools, made out of boughs, and the seats had been covered +with woolly sheep hide. In the right-hand corner stood a neat pile of firewood, +cut with an ax, and beyond this hung saddle and saddle blanket, bridle and +spurs. An old sombrero was hooked upon the pommel of the saddle. Upon the wall, +higher up, hung a lantern, resting in a coil of rope that Carley took to be a +lasso. Under a shelf upon which lay a suitcase hung some rough wearing apparel. +</p> + +<p> +Carley noted that her picture and the suit case were absolutely the only +physical evidences of Glenn’s connection with his Eastern life. That had +an unaccountable effect upon Carley. What had she expected? Then, after another +survey of the room, she began to pester Glenn with questions. He had to show +her the spring outside and the little bench with basin and soap. Sight of his +soiled towel made her throw up her hands. She sat on the stools. She lay on the +couch. She rummaged into the contents of the cupboard. She threw wood on the +fire. Then, finally, having exhausted her search and inquiry, she flopped down +on one of the stools to gaze at Glenn in awe and admiration and incredulity. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn—you’ve actually lived here!” she ejaculated. +</p> + +<p> +“Since last fall before the snow came,” he said, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Snow! Did it snow?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I guess. I was snowed in for a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you choose this lonely place—way off from the +Lodge?” she asked, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to be by myself,” he replied, briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“You mean this is a sort of camp-out place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I call it my home,” he replied, and there was a low, +strong sweetness in his voice she had never heard before. +</p> + +<p> +That silenced her for a while. She went to the door and gazed up at the +towering wall, more wonderful than ever, and more fearful, too, in her sight. +Presently tears dimmed her eyes. She did not understand her feeling; she was +ashamed of it; she hid it from Glenn. Indeed, there was something terribly +wrong between her and Glenn, and it was not in him. This cabin he called home +gave her a shock which would take time to analyze. At length she turned to him +with gay utterance upon her lips. She tried to put out of her mind a dawning +sense that this close-to-the-earth habitation, this primitive dwelling, held +strange inscrutable power over a self she had never divined she possessed. The +very stones in the hearth seemed to call out from some remote past, and the +strong sweet smell of burnt wood thrilled to the marrow of her bones. How +little she knew of herself! But she had intelligence enough to understand that +there was a woman in her, the female of the species; and through that the +sensations from logs and stones and earth and fire had strange power to call up +the emotions handed down to her from the ages. The thrill, the queer heartbeat, +the vague, haunting memory of something, as of a dim childhood adventure, the +strange prickling sense of dread—these abided with her and augmented +while she tried to show Glenn her pride in him and also how funny his cabin +seemed to her. +</p> + +<p> +Once or twice he hesitatingly, and somewhat appealingly, she imagined, tried to +broach the subject of his work there in the West. But Carley wanted a little +while with him free of disagreeable argument. It was a foregone conclusion that +she would not like his work. Her intention at first had been to begin at once +to use all persuasion in her power toward having him go back East with her, or +at the latest some time this year. But the rude log cabin had checked her +impulse. She felt that haste would be unwise. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn Kilbourne, I told you why I came West to see you,” she said, +spiritedly. “Well, since you still swear allegiance to your girl from the +East, you might entertain her a little bit before getting down to business +talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, Carley,” he replied, laughing. “What do you want +to do? The day is at your disposal. I wish it were June. Then if you +didn’t fall in love with West Fork you’d be no good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I love people, not places,” she returned. +</p> + +<p> +“So I remember. And that’s one thing I don’t like. But +let’s not quarrel. What’ll we do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you tramp with me all around, until I’m good and hungry. +Then we’ll come back here—and you can cook dinner for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fine! Oh, I know you’re just bursting with curiosity to see how +I’ll do it. Well, you may be surprised, miss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s go,” she urged. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I take my gun or fishing rod?” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall take nothing but <i>me</i>,” retorted Carley. +“What chance has a girl with a man, if he can hunt or fish?” +</p> + +<p> +So they went out hand in hand. Half of the belt of sky above was obscured by +swiftly moving gray clouds. The other half was blue and was being slowly +encroached upon by the dark storm-like pall. How cold the air! Carley had +already learned that when the sun was hidden the atmosphere was cold. Glenn led +her down a trail to the brook, where he calmly picked her up in his arms, quite +easily, it appeared, and leisurely packed her across, kissing her half a dozen +times before he deposited her on her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, you do this sort of thing so well that it makes me imagine you +have practice now and then,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“No. But you are pretty and sweet, and like the girl you were four years +ago. That takes me back to those days.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you. That’s dear of you. I think I am something of a +cat.... I’ll be glad if this walk leads us often to the creek.” +</p> + +<p> +Spring might have been fresh and keen in the air, but it had not yet brought +much green to the brown earth or to the trees. The cotton-woods showed a light +feathery verdure. The long grass was a bleached white, and low down close to +the sod fresh tiny green blades showed. The great fern leaves were sear and +ragged, and they rustled in the breeze. Small gray sheath-barked trees with +clumpy foliage and snags of dead branches, Glenn called cedars; and, grotesque +as these were, Carley rather liked them. They were approachable, not majestic +and lofty like the pines, and they smelled sweetly wild, and best of all they +afforded some protection from the bitter wind. Carley rested better than she +walked. The huge sections of red rock that had tumbled from above also +interested Carley, especially when the sun happened to come out for a few +moments and brought out their color. She enjoyed walking on the fallen pines, +with Glenn below, keeping pace with her and holding her hand. Carley looked in +vain for flowers and birds. The only living things she saw were rainbow trout +that Glenn pointed out to her in the beautiful clear pools. The way the great +gray bowlders trooped down to the brook as if they were cattle going to drink; +the dark caverns under the shelving cliffs, where the water murmured with such +hollow mockery; the low spear-pointed gray plants, resembling century plants, +and which Glenn called mescal cactus, each with its single straight dead stalk +standing on high with fluted head; the narrow gorges, perpendicularly walled in +red, where the constricted brook plunged in amber and white cascades over fall +after fall, tumbling, rushing, singing its water melody—these all held +singular appeal for Carley as aspects of the wild land, fascinating for the +moment, symbolic of the lonely red man and his forbears, and by their raw +contrast making more necessary and desirable and elevating the comforts and +conventions of civilization. The cave man theory interested Carley only as +mythology. +</p> + +<p> +Lonelier, wilder, grander grew Glenn’s canyon. Carley was finally forced +to shift her attention from the intimate objects of the canyon floor to the +aloof and unattainable heights. Singular to feel the difference! That which she +could see close at hand, touch if she willed, seemed to, become part of her +knowledge, could be observed and so possessed and passed by. But the gold-red +ramparts against the sky, the crannied cliffs, the crags of the eagles, the +lofty, distant blank walls, where the winds of the gods had written their +wars—these haunted because they could never be possessed. Carley had +often gazed at the Alps as at celebrated pictures. She admired, she +appreciated—then she forgot. But the canyon heights did not affect her +that way. They vaguely dissatisfied, and as she could not be sure of what they +dissatisfied, she had to conclude that it was in herself. To see, to watch, to +dream, to seek, to strive, to endure, to find! Was that what they meant? They +might make her thoughtful of the vast earth, and its endless age, and its +staggering mystery. But what more! +</p> + +<p> +The storm that had threatened blackened the sky, and gray scudding clouds +buried the canyon rims, and long veils of rain and sleet began to descend. The +wind roared through the pines, drowning the roar of the brook. Quite suddenly +the air grew piercingly cold. Carley had forgotten her gloves, and her pockets +had not been constructed to protect hands. Glenn drew her into a sheltered nook +where a rock jutted out from overhead and a thicket of young pines helped break +the onslaught of the wind. There Carley sat on a cold rock, huddled up close to +Glenn, and wearing to a state she knew would be misery. Glenn not only seemed +content; he was happy. “This is great,” he said. His coat was open, +his hands uncovered, and he watched the storm and listened with manifest +delight. Carley hated to betray what a weakling she was, so she resigned +herself to her fate, and imagined she felt her fingers numbing into ice, and +her sensitive nose slowly and painfully freezing. +</p> + +<p> +The storm passed, however, before Carley sank into abject and open +wretchedness. She managed to keep pace with Glenn until exercise warmed her +blood. At every little ascent in the trail she found herself laboring to get +her breath. There was assuredly evidence of abundance of air in this canyon, +but somehow she could not get enough of it. Glenn detected this and said it was +owing to the altitude. When they reached the cabin Carley was wet, stiff, cold, +exhausted. How welcome the shelter, the open fireplace! Seeing the cabin in new +light, Carley had the grace to acknowledge to herself that, after all, it was +not so bad. +</p> + +<p> +“Now for a good fire and then dinner,” announced Glenn, with the +air of one who knew his ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Can I help?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Not today. I do not want you to spring any domestic science on me +now.” Carley was not averse to withholding her ignorance. She watched +Glenn with surpassing curiosity and interest. First he threw a quantity of wood +upon the smoldering fire. +</p> + +<p> +“I have ham and mutton of my own raising,” announced Glenn, with +importance. “Which would you prefer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of your own raising. What do you mean?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, you’ve been so steeped in the fog of the crowd that you +are blind to the homely and necessary things of living. I mean I have here meat +of both sheep and hog that I raised myself. That is to say, mutton and ham. +Which do you like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ham!” cried Carley, incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +Without more ado Glenn settled to brisk action, every move of which Carley +watched with keen eyes. The usurping of a woman’s province by a man was +always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne—what more would it be? +He evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was quick, decisive. One +after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, utensils on the table. Then he +kicked at the roaring fire, settling some of the sticks. He strode outside to +return with a bucket of water, a basin, towel, and soap. Then he took down two +queer little iron pots with heavy lids. To each pot was attached a wire handle. +He removed the lids, then set both the pots right on the fire or in it. Pouring +water into the basin, he proceeded to wash his hands. Next he took a large +pail, and from a sack he filled it half full of flour. To this he added baking +powder and salt. It was instructive for Carley to see him run his skillful +fingers all through that flour, as if searching for lumps. After this he knelt +before the fire and, lifting off one of the iron pots with a forked stick, he +proceeded to wipe out the inside of the pot and grease it with a piece of fat. +His next move was to rake out a pile of the red coals, a feat he performed with +the stick, and upon these he placed the pot. Also he removed the other pot from +the fire, leaving it, however, quite close. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all eyes?” he bantered, suddenly staring at her. +“Didn’t I say I’d surprise you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t mind me. This is about the happiest and most bewildered +moment—of my life,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Returning to the table, Glenn dug at something in a large red can. He paused a +moment to eye Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Girl, do you know how to make biscuits?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“I might have known in my school days, but I’ve forgotten,” +she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you make apple pie?” he demanded, imperiously. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” rejoined Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you expect to please your husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—by marrying him, I suppose,” answered Carley, as if +weighing a problem. +</p> + +<p> +“That has been the universal feminine point of view for a good many +years,” replied Glenn, flourishing a flour-whitened hand. “But it +never served the women of the Revolution or the pioneers. And they were the +builders of the nation. It will never serve the wives of the future, if we are +to survive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, you rave!” ejaculated Carley, not knowing whether to laugh +or be grave. “You were talking of humble housewifely things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. The humble things that were the foundation of the great +nation of Americans. I meant work and children.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley could only stare at him. The look he flashed at her, the sudden +intensity and passion of his ringing words, were as if he gave her a glimpse +into the very depths of him. He might have begun in fun, but he had finished +otherwise. She felt that she really did not know this man. Had he arraigned her +in judgment? A flush, seemingly hot and cold, passed over her. Then it relieved +her to see that he had returned to his task. +</p> + +<p> +He mixed the shortening with the flour, and, adding water, he began a thorough +kneading. When the consistency of the mixture appeared to satisfy him he took a +handful of it, rolled it into a ball, patted and flattened it into a biscuit, +and dropped it into the oven he had set aside on the hot coals. Swiftly he +shaped eight or ten other biscuits and dropped them as the first. Then he put +the heavy iron lid on the pot, and with a rude shovel, improvised from a +flattened tin can, he shoveled red coals out of the fire, and covered the lid +with them. His next move was to pare and slice potatoes, placing these aside in +a pan. A small black coffee-pot half full of water, was set on a glowing part +of the fire. Then he brought into use a huge, heavy knife, a murderous-looking +implement it appeared to Carley, with which he cut slices of ham. These he +dropped into the second pot, which he left uncovered. Next he removed the flour +sack and other inpedimenta from the table, and proceeded to set places for +two—blue-enamel plate and cup, with plain, substantial-looking knives, +forks, and spoons. He went outside, to return presently carrying a small crock +of butter. Evidently he had kept the butter in or near the spring. It looked +dewy and cold and hard. After that he peeped under the lid of the pot which +contained the biscuits. The other pot was sizzling and smoking, giving forth a +delicious savory odor that affected Carley most agreeably. The coffee-pot had +begun to steam. With a long fork Glenn turned the slices of ham and stood a +moment watching them. Next he placed cans of three sizes upon the table; and +these Carley conjectured contained sugar, salt, and pepper. Carley might not +have been present, for all the attention he paid to her. Again he peeped at the +biscuits. At the edge of the hot embers he placed a tin plate, upon which he +carefully deposited the slices of ham. Carley had not needed sight of them to +know she was hungry; they made her simply ravenous. That done, he poured the +pan of sliced potatoes into the pot. Carley judged the heat of that pot to be +extreme. Next he removed the lid from the other pot, exposing biscuits slightly +browned; and evidently satisfied with these, he removed them from the coals. He +stirred the slices of potatoes round and round; he emptied two heaping +tablespoonfuls of coffee into the coffee-pot. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley,” he said, at last turning to her with a warm smile, +“out here in the West the cook usually yells, ‘Come and get +it.’ Draw up your stool.” +</p> + +<p> +And presently Carley found herself seated across the crude table from Glenn, +with the background of chinked logs in her sight, and the smart of wood smoke +in her eyes. In years past she had sat with him in the soft, subdued, +gold-green shadows of the Astor, or in the sumptuous atmosphere of the St. +Regis. But this event was so different, so striking, that she felt it would +have limitless significance. For one thing, the look of Glenn! When had he ever +seemed like this, wonderfully happy to have her there, consciously proud of +this dinner he had prepared in half an hour, strangely studying her as one on +trial? This might have had its effect upon Carley’s reaction to the +situation, making it sweet, trenchant with meaning, but she was hungry enough +and the dinner was good enough to make this hour memorable on that score alone. +She ate until she was actually ashamed of herself. She laughed heartily, she +talked, she made love to Glenn. Then suddenly an idea flashed into her quick +mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, did this girl Flo teach you to cook?” she queried, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“No. I always was handy in camp. Then out here I had the luck to fall in +with an old fellow who was a wonderful cook. He lived with me for a while. ... +Why, what difference would it have made—had Flo taught me?” +</p> + +<p> +Carley felt the heat of blood in her face. “I don’t know that it +would have made a difference. Only—I’m glad she didn’t teach +you. I’d rather no girl could teach you what I couldn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think I’m a pretty good cook, then?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve enjoyed this dinner more than any I’ve ever +eaten.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, Carley. That’ll help a lot,” he said, gayly, but his +eyes shone with earnest, glad light. “I hoped I’d surprise you. +I’ve found out here that I want to do things well. The West stirs +something in a man. It must be an unwritten law. You stand or fall by your own +hands. Back East you know meals are just occasions—to hurry +through—to dress for—to meet somebody—to eat because you have +to eat. But out here they are different. I don’t know how. In the city, +producers, merchants, waiters serve you for money. The meal is a transaction. +It has no significance. It is money that keeps you from starvation. But in the +West money doesn’t mean much. You must work to live.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and +admiringly. “Old fellow, you’re a wonder. I can’t tell you +how proud I am of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your +way to health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid achievement. +It amazes me. I don’t grasp it. I want to think. Nevertheless +I—” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” he queried, as she hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, never mind now,” she replied, hastily, averting her eyes. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge—and in spite of +the discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her face as +she struggled up the trail—it was a day never to be forgotten. Nothing +had been wanting in Glenn’s attention or affection. He had been comrade, +lover, all she craved for. And but for his few singular words about work and +children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day in his canyon and his +cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? Something vague and perplexing knocked +at the gate of her consciousness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"></a> +CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p> +Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion that +pleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a propitious time to +climb up on the desert to look after his sheep interests. Glenn, of course, +would accompany him. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley and I will go too,” asserted Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon that’ll be good,” said Hutter, with approving nod. +</p> + +<p> +His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see the beautiful +desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, it’ll be rather hard,” he said. “You’re +soft, and riding and lying out will stove you up. You ought to break in +gradually.” +</p> + +<p> +“I rode ten miles today,” rejoined Carley. “And didn’t +mind it—much.” This was a little deviation from stern veracity. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore Carley’s well and strong,” protested Flo. +“She’ll get sore, but that won’t kill her.” +</p> + +<p> +Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. “I might drive Carley +round about in the car,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“But you can’t drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. +We’d have to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It’s +horseback if you go at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shore we’ll go horseback,” spoke up Flo. “Carley has +got it all over that Spencer girl who was here last summer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what the ride +to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer,” rejoined Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” inquired Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed two +days. She didn’t show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she never +got on another horse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is that all, Glenn?” returned Carley, in feigned surprise. +“Why, I imagined from your tone that Miss Spencer’s ride must have +occasioned her discomfort.... See here, Glenn. I may be a tenderfoot, but +I’m no mollycoddle.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, I surrender,” replied Glenn, with a laugh. “Really, +I’m delighted. But if anything happens—don’t you blame me. +I’m quite sure that a long horseback ride, in spring, on the desert, will +show you a good many things about yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +That was how Carley came to find herself, the afternoon of the next day, +astride a self-willed and unmanageable little mustang, riding in the rear of +her friends, on the way through a cedar forest toward a place called Deep Lake. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had not been able yet, during the several hours of their journey, to +take any pleasure in the scenery or in her mount. For in the first place there +was nothing to see but scrubby little gnarled cedars and drab-looking rocks; +and in the second this Indian pony she rode had discovered she was not an adept +horsewoman and had proceeded to take advantage of the fact. It did not help +Carley’s predicament to remember that Glenn had decidedly advised her +against riding this particular mustang. To be sure, Flo had approved of +Carley’s choice, and Mr. Hutter, with a hearty laugh, had fallen in line: +“Shore. Let her ride one of the broncs, if she wants.” So this +animal she bestrode must have been a bronc, for it did not take him long to +elicit from Carley a muttered, “I don’t know what bronc means, but +it sounds like this pony acts.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley had inquired the animal’s name from the young herder who had +saddled him for her. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, I reckon he ain’t got much of a name,” replied the lad, +with a grin, as he scratched his head. “For us boys always called him +Spillbeans.” +</p> + +<p> +“Humph! What a beautiful cognomen!” ejaculated Carley, “But +according to Shakespeare any name will serve. I’ll ride him +or—or—” +</p> + +<p> +So far there had not really been any necessity for the completion of that +sentence. But five miles of riding up into the cedar forest had convinced +Carley that she might not have much farther to go. Spillbeans had ambled along +well enough until he reached level ground where a long bleached grass waved in +the wind. Here he manifested hunger, then a contrary nature, next +insubordination, and finally direct hostility. Carley had urged, pulled, and +commanded in vain. Then when she gave Spillbeans a kick in the flank he jumped +stiff legged, propelling her up out of the saddle, and while she was descending +he made the queer jump again, coming up to meet her. The jolt she got seemed to +dislocate every bone in her body. Likewise it hurt. Moreover, along with her +idea of what a spectacle she must have presented, it quickly decided Carley +that Spillbeans was a horse that was not to be opposed. Whenever he wanted a +mouthful of grass he stopped to get it. Therefore Carley was always in the +rear, a fact which in itself did not displease her. Despite his contrariness, +however, Spillbeans had apparently no intention of allowing the other horses to +get completely out of sight. +</p> + +<p> +Several times Flo waited for Carley to catch up. “He’s loafing on +you, Carley. You ought to have on a spur. Break off a switch and beat him +some.” Then she whipped the mustang across the flank with her bridle +rein, which punishment caused Spillbeans meekly to trot on with alacrity. +Carley had a positive belief that he would not do it for her. And after +Flo’s repeated efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn, had kept +Spillbeans in a trot for a couple of miles Carley began to discover that the +trotting of a horse was the most uncomfortable motion possible to imagine. It +grew worse. It became painful. It gradually got unendurable. But pride made +Carley endure it until suddenly she thought she had been stabbed in the side. +This strange piercing pain must be what Glenn had called a “stitch” +in the side, something common to novices on horseback. Carley could have +screamed. She pulled the mustang to a walk and sagged in her saddle until the +pain subsided. What a blessed relief! Carley had keen sense of the difference +between riding in Central Park and in Arizona. She regretted her choice of +horses. Spillbeans was attractive to look at, but the pleasure of riding him +was a delusion. Flo had said his gait resembled the motion of a rocking chair. +This Western girl, according to Charley, the sheep herder, was not above +playing Arizona jokes. Be that as it might, Spillbeans now manifested a desire +to remain with the other horses, and he broke out of a walk into a trot. Carley +could not keep him from trotting. Hence her state soon wore into acute +distress. +</p> + +<p> +Her left ankle seemed broken. The stirrup was heavy, and as soon as she was +tired she could no longer keep its weight from drawing her foot in. The inside +of her right knee was as sore as a boil. Besides, she had other pains, just as +severe, and she stood momentarily in mortal dread of that terrible stitch in +her side. If it returned she knew she would fall off. But, fortunately, just +when she was growing weak and dizzy, the horses ahead slowed to a walk on a +descent. The road wound down into a wide deep canyon. Carley had a respite from +her severest pains. Never before had she known what it meant to be so grateful +for relief from anything. +</p> + +<p> +The afternoon grew far advanced and the sunset was hazily shrouded in gray. +Hutter did not like the looks of those clouds. “Reckon we’re in for +weather,” he said. Carley did not care what happened. Weather or anything +else that might make it possible to get off her horse! Glenn rode beside her, +inquiring solicitously as to her pleasure. “Ride of my life!” she +lied heroically. And it helped some to see that she both fooled and pleased +him. +</p> + +<p> +Beyond the canyon the cedared desert heaved higher and changed its aspect. The +trees grew larger, bushier, greener, and closer together, with patches of +bleached grass between, and russet-lichened rocks everywhere. Small cactus +plants bristled sparsely in open places; and here and there bright red +flowers—Indian paintbrush, Flo called them—added a touch of color +to the gray. Glenn pointed to where dark banks of cloud had massed around the +mountain peaks. The scene to the west was somber and compelling. +</p> + +<p> +At last the men and the pack-horses ahead came to a halt in a level green +forestland with no high trees. Far ahead a chain of soft gray round hills led +up to the dark heaved mass of mountains. Carley saw the gleam of water through +the trees. Probably her mustang saw or scented it, because he started to trot. +Carley had reached a limit of strength, endurance, and patience. She hauled him +up short. When Spillbeans evinced a stubborn intention to go on Carley gave him +a kick. Then it happened. +</p> + +<p> +She felt the reins jerked out of her hands and the saddle propel her upward. +When she descended it was to meet that before-experienced jolt. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” cried Flo. “That bronc is going to pitch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hold on, Carley!” yelled Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +Desperately Carley essayed to do just that. But Spillbeans jolted her out of +the saddle. She came down on his rump and began to slide back and down. +Frightened and furious, Carley tried to hang to the saddle with her hands and +to squeeze the mustang with her knees. But another jolt broke her hold, and +then, helpless and bewildered, with her heart in her throat and a terrible +sensation of weakness, she slid back at each upheave of the muscular rump until +she slid off and to the ground in a heap. Whereupon Spillbeans trotted off +toward the water. +</p> + +<p> +Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her. Manifestly they were concerned +about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter. Carley knew she was not +hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, on the moment, she could +almost have laughed herself. +</p> + +<p> +“That beast is well named,” she said. “He spilled me, all +right. And I presume I resembled a sack of beans.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley—you’re—not hurt?” asked Glenn, choking, +as he helped her up. +</p> + +<p> +“Not physically. But my feelings are.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by a loud guffaw +from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrain whatever she felt. +To Carley she looked queer. +</p> + +<p> +“Pitch! You called it that,” said Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he didn’t really pitch. He just humped up a few times,” +replied Flo, and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burst +into a merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning, and some +of the other men turned away with shaking shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!” ejaculated Carley. +“It must have been funny. I hope I can be a good sport.... But I bet you +I ride him tomorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shore you will,” replied Flo. +</p> + +<p> +Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carley felt a +warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling of humiliation. They +expected such things from her, and she should expect them, too, and take them, +if not fearlessly or painlessly, at least without resentment. +</p> + +<p> +Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doing so she +took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At second glance the place +had a certain attraction difficult for her to define. She could see far, and +the view north toward those strange gray-colored symmetrical hills was one that +fascinated while it repelled her. Near at hand the ground sloped down to a +large rock-bound lake, perhaps a mile in circumference. In the distance, along +the shore she saw a white conical tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects +she took for sheep. +</p> + +<p> +The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet +together, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appeared to be +briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the foot of a thickly +branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed for her and Flo. All +that Carley could see that could be used for such purpose was a canvas-covered +roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope from round this, unrolled it, and dragged +it under the cedar. Then he spread down the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a +considerable thickness of blankets. From under the top of these he pulled out +two flat little pillows. These he placed in position, and turned back some of +the blankets. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over +them,” directed Glenn. “If it rains pull the tarp up over your +head—and let it rain.” +</p> + +<p> +This direction sounded in Glenn’s cheery voice a good deal more +pleasurable than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar tree could not +keep off rain or snow. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, how about—about animals—and crawling things, you +know?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes a scorpion. +But these don’t crawl around much at night. The only thing to worry about +are the hydrophobia skunks.” +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth are they?” asked Carley, quite aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Skunks are polecats, you know,” replied Glenn, cheerfully. +“Sometimes one gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then +he’s a dangerous customer. He has no fear and he may run across you and +bite you in the face. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have +been bitten since I’ve been here. One of them died, and the other had to +go to the Pasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens!” cried Carley, horrified. +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t be afraid,” said Glenn. “I’ll tie +one of the dogs near your bed.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley wondered whether Glenn’s casual, easy tone had been adopted for +her benefit or was merely an assimilation from this Western life. Not +improbably Glenn himself might be capable of playing a trick on her. Carley +endeavored to fortify herself against disaster, so that when it befell she +might not be wholly ludicrous. +</p> + +<p> +With the coming of twilight a cold, keen wind moaned through the cedars. Carley +would have hovered close to the fire even if she had not been too tired to +exert herself. Despite her aches, she did justice to the supper. It amazed her +that appetite consumed her to the extent of overcoming a distaste for this +strong, coarse cooking. Before the meal ended darkness had fallen, a windy raw +darkness that enveloped heavily like a blanket. Presently Carley edged closer +to the fire, and there she stayed, alternately turning back and front to the +welcome heat. She seemingly roasted hands, face, and knees while her back +froze. The wind blew the smoke in all directions. When she groped around with +blurred, smarting eyes to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The other +members of the party sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without much notice of +the smoke that so exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insisted that she take a seat +he had fixed for her, but she preferred to stand and move around a little. +</p> + +<p> +By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and all gathered near +the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutter engaged in interested +conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheep herders. If the wind and cold +had not made Carley so uncomfortable she might have found the scene +picturesque. How black the night! She could scarcely distinguish the sky at +all. The cedar branches swished in the wind, and from the gloom came a low +sound of waves lapping a rocky shore. Presently Glenn held up a hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, Carley!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehow infinitely +lonely. They made her shudder. +</p> + +<p> +“Coyotes,” said Glenn. “You’ll come to love that +chorus. Hear the dogs bark back.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that she would +ever become enamoured of such wild cries. +</p> + +<p> +“Do coyotes come near camp?” she queried. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore. Sometimes they pull your pillow out from under your head,” +replied Flo, laconically. +</p> + +<p> +Carley did not ask any more questions. Natural history was not her favorite +study and she was sure she could dispense with any first-hand knowledge of +desert beasts. She thought, however, she heard one of the men say, “Big +varmint prowlin’ round the sheep.” To which Hutter replied, +“Reckon it was a bear.” And Glenn said, “I saw his fresh +track by the lake. Some bear!” +</p> + +<p> +The heat from the fire made Carley so drowsy that she could scarcely hold up +her head. She longed for bed even if it was out there in the open. Presently +Flo called her: “Come. Let’s walk a little before turning +in.” +</p> + +<p> +So Carley permitted herself to be led to and fro down an open aisle between +some cedars. The far end of that aisle, dark, gloomy, with the bushy secretive +cedars all around, caused Carley apprehension she was ashamed to admit. Flo +talked eloquently about the joys of camp life, and how the harder any outdoor +task was and the more endurance and pain it required, the more pride and +pleasure one had in remembering it. Carley was weighing the import of these +words when suddenly Flo clutched her arm. “What’s that?” she +whispered, tensely. +</p> + +<p> +Carley stood stockstill. They had reached the furthermost end of that aisle, +but had turned to go back. The flare of the camp fire threw a wan light into +the shadows before them. There came a rustling in the brush, a snapping of +twigs. Cold tremors chased up and down Carley’s back. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore it’s a varmint, all right. Let’s hurry,” +whispered Flo. +</p> + +<p> +Carley needed no urging. It appeared that Flo was not going to run. She walked +fast, peering back over her shoulder, and, hanging to Carley’s arm, she +rounded a large cedar that had obstructed some of the firelight. The gloom was +not so thick here. And on the instant Carley espied a low, moving object, +somehow furry, and gray in color. She gasped. She could not speak. Her heart +gave a mighty throb and seemed to stop. +</p> + +<p> +“What—do you see?” cried Flo, sharply, peering ahead. +“Oh!... Come, Carley. <i>Run!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Flo’s cry showed she must nearly be strangled with terror. But Carley was +frozen in her tracks. Her eyes were riveted upon the gray furry object. It +stopped. Then it came faster. It magnified. It was a huge beast. Carley had no +control over mind, heart, voice, or muscle. Her legs gave way. She was sinking. +A terrible panic, icy, sickening, rending, possessed her whole body. +</p> + +<p> +The huge gray thing came at her. Into the rushing of her ears broke thudding +sounds. The thing leaped up. A horrible petrifaction suddenly made stone of +Carley. Then she saw a gray mantlelike object cast aside to disclose the dark +form of a man. Glenn! +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, dog-gone it! You don’t scare worth a cent,” he +laughingly complained. +</p> + +<p> +She collapsed into his arms. The liberating shock was as great as had been her +terror. She began to tremble violently. Her hands got back a sense of strength +to clutch. Heart and blood seemed released from that ice-banded vise. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, I believe you were scared,” went on Glenn, bending over her. +</p> + +<p> +“Scar-ed!” she gasped. “Oh—there’s no +word—to tell—what I was!” +</p> + +<p> +Flo came running back, giggling with joy. “Glenn, she shore took you for +a bear. Why, I felt her go stiff as a post!... Ha! Ha! Ha! Carley, now how do +you like the wild and woolly?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! You put up a trick on me!” ejaculated Carley. “Glenn, +how could you? ... Such a terrible trick! I wouldn’t have minded +something reasonable. But that! Oh, I’ll never forgive you!” +</p> + +<p> +Glenn showed remorse, and kissed her before Flo in a way that made some little +amends. “Maybe I overdid it,” he said. “But I thought +you’d have a momentary start, you know, enough to make you yell, and then +you’d see through it. I only had a sheepskin over my shoulders as I +crawled on hands and knees.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, for me you were a prehistoric monster—a dinosaur, or +something,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybody had been +in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon that makes you one of us,” said Hutter, genially. +“We’ve all had our scares.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickery alienated +her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to show her cowardice. But then +she realized that no one had really seen any evidence of her state. It was fun +to them. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call for bed. +Following Flo’s instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled off her +boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under the blankets. +How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most delicious sense of relief +and rest she had ever experienced. She straightened out on her back with a +feeling that she had never before appreciated the luxury of lying down. +</p> + +<p> +Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: “Now don’t +cover your head. If it rains I’ll wake and pull up the tarp. Good night, +Carley.” And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep. +</p> + +<p> +For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches; the +aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blackness of night, +the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotected helplessness she felt +in this novel bed, were too entirely new and disturbing to be overcome at once. +So she lay wide eyed, staring at the dense gray shadow, at the flickering +lights upon the cedar. At length her mind formed a conclusion that this sort of +thing might be worth the hardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession +to Glenn’s West! In the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess +that if her vanity had not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have +enjoyed herself more. It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills and +pleasures and exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and an uneasy +half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or a profitable time +when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would not be averse to getting +Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere wholly strange and difficult, and +see how she met situation after situation unfamiliar to her. And so +Carley’s mind drifted on until at last she succumbed to drowsiness. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Something sharp, +cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them. Glenn stood over +her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, the day is far spent,” he said, gayly. “We want to +roll up your bedding. Will you get out of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Glenn! What time is it?” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s nearly six.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!... Do you expect me to get up at that ungodly hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re all up. Flo’s eating breakfast. It’s going to be +a bad day, I’m afraid. And we want to get packed and moving before it +starts to rain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do girls leave home?” she asked, tragically. +</p> + +<p> +“To make poor devils happy, of course,” he replied, smiling down +upon her. +</p> + +<p> +That smile made up to Carley for all the clamoring sensations of stiff, sore +muscles. It made her ashamed that she could not fling herself into this +adventure with all her heart. Carley essayed to sit up. “Oh, I’m +afraid my anatomy has become disconnected!... Glenn, do I look a sight?” +She never would have asked him that if she had not known she could bear +inspection at such an inopportune moment. +</p> + +<p> +“You look great,” he asserted, heartily. “You’ve got +color. And as for your hair—I like to see it mussed that way. You were +always one to have it dressed—just so.... Come, Carley, rustle +now.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus adjured, Carley did her best under adverse circumstances. And she was +gritting her teeth and complimenting herself when she arrived at the task of +pulling on her boots. They were damp and her feet appeared to have swollen. +Moreover, her ankles were sore. But she accomplished getting into them at the +expense of much pain and sundry utterances more forcible than elegant. Glenn +brought her warm water, a mitigating circumstance. The morning was cold and +thought of that biting desert water had been trying. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore you’re doing fine,” was Flo’s greeting. +“Come and get it before we throw it out.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley made haste to comply with the Western mandate, and was once again +confronted with the singular fact that appetite did not wait upon the troubles +of a tenderfoot. Glenn remarked that at least she would not starve to death on +the trip. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, climb the ridge with me,” he invited. “I want you to +take a look to the north and east.” +</p> + +<p> +He led her off through the cedars, up a slow red-earth slope, away from the +lake. A green moundlike eminence topped with flat red rock appeared near at +hand and not at all a hard climb. Nevertheless, her eyes deceived her, as she +found to the cost of her breath. It was both far away and high. +</p> + +<p> +“I like this location,” said Glenn. “If I had the money +I’d buy this section of land—six hundred and forty acres—and +make a ranch of it. Just under this bluff is a fine open flat bench for a +cabin. You could see away across the desert clear to Sunset Peak. There’s +a good spring of granite water. I’d run water from the lake down into the +lower flats, and I’d sure raise some stock.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call this place?” asked Carley, curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Deep Lake. It’s only a watering place for sheep and cattle. But +there’s fine grazing, and it’s a wonder to me no one has ever +settled here.” +</p> + +<p> +Looking down, Carley appreciated his wish to own the place; and immediately +there followed in her a desire to get possession of this tract of land before +anyone else discovered its advantages, and to hold it for Glenn. But this would +surely conflict with her intention of persuading Glenn to go back East. As +quickly as her impulse had been born it died. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the scene gripped Carley. She looked from near to far, trying to grasp +the illusive something. Wild lonely Arizona land! She saw ragged dumpy cedars +of gray and green, lines of red earth, and a round space of water, gleaming +pale under the lowering clouds; and in the distance isolated hills, strangely +curved, wandering away to a black uplift of earth obscured in the sky. +</p> + +<p> +These appeared to be mere steps leading her sight farther and higher to the +cloud-navigated sky, where rosy and golden effulgence betokened the sun and the +east. Carley held her breath. A transformation was going on before her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, it’s a stormy sunrise,” said Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this sudden-bursting glory +only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She could see the clouds moving while +they were being colored. The universal gray surrendered under some magic paint +brush. The rifts widened, and the gloom of the pale-gray world seemed to +vanish. Beyond the billowy, rolling, creamy edges of clouds, white and pink, +shone the soft exquisite fresh blue sky. And a blaze of fire, a burst of molten +gold, sheered up from behind the rim of cloud and suddenly poured a sea of +sunlight from east to west. It transfigured the round foothills. They seemed +bathed in ethereal light, and the silver mists that overhung them faded while +Carley gazed, and a rosy flush crowned the symmetrical domes. Southward along +the horizon line, down-dropping veils of rain, just touched with the sunrise +tint, streamed in drifting slow movement from cloud to earth. To the north the +range of foothills lifted toward the majestic dome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic +upheaval of red and purple cinders, bare as rock, round as the lower hills, and +wonderful in its color. Full in the blaze of the rising sun it flaunted an +unchangeable front. Carley understood now what had been told her about this +peak. Volcanic fires had thrown up a colossal mound of cinders burned forever +to the hues of the setting sun. In every light and shade of day it held true to +its name. Farther north rose the bold bulk of the San Francisco Peaks, that, +half lost in the clouds, still dominated the desert scene. Then as Carley gazed +the rifts began to close. Another transformation began, the reverse of what she +watched. The golden radiance of sunrise vanished, and under a gray, lowering, +coalescing pall of cloud the round hills returned to their bleak somberness, +and the green desert took again its cold sheen. +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t it fine, Carley?” asked Glenn. “But nothing to +what you will experience. I hope you stay till the weather gets warm. I want +you to see a summer dawn on the Painted Desert, and a noon with the great white +clouds rolling up from the horizon, and a sunset of massed purple and gold. If +<i>they</i> do not get you then I’ll give up.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley murmured something of her appreciation of what she had just seen. Part +of his remark hung on her ear, thought-provoking and disturbing. He hoped she +would stay until summer! That was kind of him. But her visit must be short and +she now intended it to end with his return East with her. If she did not +persuade him to go he might not want to go for a while, as he had +written—“just yet.” Carley grew troubled in mind. Such mental +disturbance, however, lasted no longer than her return with Glenn to camp, +where the mustang Spillbeans stood ready for her to mount. He appeared to put +one ear up, the other down, and to look at her with mild surprise, as if to +say: “What—hello—tenderfoot! Are you going to ride me +again?” +</p> + +<p> +Carley recalled that she had avowed she would ride him. There was no +alternative, and her misgivings only made matters worse. Nevertheless, once in +the saddle, she imagined she had the hallucination that to ride off so, with +the long open miles ahead, was really thrilling. This remarkable state of mind +lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, and then another day of misery beckoned +to Carley with gray stretches of distance. +</p> + +<p> +She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up the hours. She +saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; she saw the ground +clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hoping for sandy places or +rocky places where her mustang could not trot. +</p> + +<p> +At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which turned out to +be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so busy that he had no +time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at home on a horse than on the +ground, rode around everywhere with the men. Most assuredly Carley could not +pass by the chance to get off Spillbeans and to walk a little. She found, +however, that what she wanted most was to rest. The cabin was deserted, a dark, +damp place with a rank odor. She did not stay long inside. +</p> + +<p> +Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be a disagreeable +prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered by a cup of hot soup and +some bread and butter which the herder Charley brought her. By and by Glenn and +Hutter returned with Flo, and all partook of some lunch. +</p> + +<p> +All too soon Carley found herself astride the mustang again. Glenn helped her +don the slicker, an abominable sticky rubber coat that bundled her up and +tangled her feet round the stirrups. She was glad to find, though, that it +served well indeed to protect her from raw wind and rain. +</p> + +<p> +“Where do we go from here?” Carley inquired, ironically. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn laughed in a way which proved to Carley that he knew perfectly well how +she felt. Again his smile caused her self-reproach. Plain indeed was it that he +had really expected more of her in the way of complaint and less of fortitude. +Carley bit her lips. +</p> + +<p> +Thus began the afternoon ride. As it advanced the sky grew more threatening, +the wind rawer, the cold keener, and the rain cut like little bits of sharp +ice. It blew in Carley’s face. Enough snow fell to whiten the open +patches of ground. In an hour Carley realized that she had the hardest task of +her life to ride to the end of the day’s journey. No one could have +guessed her plight. Glenn complimented her upon her adaptation to such +unpleasant conditions. Flo evidently was on the lookout for the +tenderfoot’s troubles. But as Spillbeans, had taken to lagging at a walk, +Carley was enabled to conceal all outward sign of her woes. It rained, hailed, +sleeted, snowed, and grew colder all the time. Carley’s feet became lumps +of ice. Every step the mustang took sent acute pains ramifying from bruised and +raw places all over her body. +</p> + +<p> +Once, finding herself behind the others and out of sight in the cedars, she got +off to walk awhile, leading the mustang. This would not do, however, because +she fell too far in the rear. Mounting again, she rode on, beginning to feel +that nothing mattered, that this trip would be the end of Carley Burch. How she +hated that dreary, cold, flat land the road bisected without end. It felt as if +she rode hours to cover a mile. In open stretches she saw the whole party +straggling along, separated from one another, and each for himself. They +certainly could not be enjoying themselves. Carley shut her eyes, clutched the +pommel of the saddle, trying to support her weight. How could she endure +another mile? Alas! there might be many miles. Suddenly a terrible shock seemed +to rack her. But it was only that Spillbeans had once again taken to a trot. +Frantically she pulled on the bridle. He was not to be thwarted. Opening her +eyes, she saw a cabin far ahead which probably was the destination for the +night. Carley knew she would never reach it, yet she clung on desperately. What +she dreaded was the return of that stablike pain in her side. It came, and life +seemed something abject and monstrous. She rode stiff legged, with her hands +propping her stiffly above the pommel, but the stabbing pain went right on, and +in deeper. When the mustang halted his trot beside the other horses Carley was +in the last extremity. Yet as Glenn came to her, offering a hand, she still hid +her agony. Then Flo called out gayly: “Carley, you’ve done +twenty-five miles on as rotten a day as I remember. Shore we all hand it to +you. And I’m confessing I didn’t think you’d ever stay the +ride out. Spillbeans is the meanest nag we’ve got and he has the hardest +gait.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"></a> +CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p> +Later Carley leaned back in a comfortable seat, before a blazing fire that +happily sent its acrid smoke up the chimney, pondering ideas in her mind. +</p> + +<p> +There could be a relation to familiar things that was astounding in its +revelation. To get off a horse that had tortured her, to discover an almost +insatiable appetite, to rest weary, aching body before the genial warmth of a +beautiful fire—these were experiences which Carley found to have been +hitherto unknown delights. It struck her suddenly and strangely that to know +the real truth about anything in life might require infinite experience and +understanding. How could one feel immense gratitude and relief, or the delight +of satisfying acute hunger, or the sweet comfort of rest, unless there had been +circumstances of extreme contrast? She had been compelled to suffer cruelly on +horseback in order to make her appreciate how good it was to get down on the +ground. Otherwise she never would have known. She wondered, then, how true that +principle might be in all experience. It gave strong food for thought. There +were things in the world never before dreamed of in her philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +Carley was wondering if she were narrow and dense to circumstances of life +differing from her own when a remark of Flo’s gave pause to her +reflections. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore the worst is yet to come.” Flo had drawled. +</p> + +<p> +Carley wondered if this distressing statement had to do in some way with the +rest of the trip. She stifled her curiosity. Painful knowledge of that sort +would come quickly enough. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, are you girls going to sleep here in the cabin?” inquired +Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore. It’s cold and wet outside,” replied Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Felix, the Mexican herder, told me some Navajos had been bunking +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Navajos? You mean Indians?” interposed Carley, with interest. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore do,” said Flo. “I knew that. But don’t mind +Glenn. He’s full of tricks, Carley. He’d give us a hunch to lie out +in the wet.” +</p> + +<p> +Hutter burst into his hearty laugh. “Wal, I’d rather get some +things any day than a bad cold.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I’ve had both,” replied Flo, in her easy drawl, +“and I’d prefer the cold. But for Carley’s sake—” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray don’t consider me,” said Carley. The rather crude drift +of the conversation affronted her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my dear,” put in Glenn, “it’s a bad night +outside. We’ll all make our beds here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, you shore are a nervy fellow,” drawled Flo. +</p> + +<p> +Long after everybody was in bed Carley lay awake in the blackness of the cabin, +sensitively fidgeting and quivering over imaginative contact with creeping +things. The fire had died out. A cold air passed through the room. On the roof +pattered gusts of rain. Carley heard a rustling of mice. It did not seem +possible that she could keep awake, yet she strove to do so. But her pangs of +body, her extreme fatigue soon yielded to the quiet and rest of her bed, +engendering a drowsiness that proved irresistible. +</p> + +<p> +Morning brought fair weather and sunshine, which helped to sustain Carley in +her effort to brave out her pains and woes. Another disagreeable day would have +forced her to humiliating defeat. Fortunately for her, the business of the men +was concerned with the immediate neighborhood, in which they expected to stay +all morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, after a while persuade Carley to ride with you to the top of this +first foothill,” said Glenn. “It’s not far, and it’s +worth a good deal to see the Painted Desert from there. The day is clear and +the air free from dust.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shore. Leave it to me. I want to get out of camp, anyhow. That conceited +<i>hombre</i>, Lee Stanton, will be riding in here,” answered Flo, +laconically. +</p> + +<p> +The slight knowing smile on Glenn’s face and the grinning disbelief on +Mr. Hutter’s were facts not lost upon Carley. And when Charley, the +herder, deliberately winked at Carley, she conceived the idea that Flo, like +many women, only ran off to be pursued. In some manner Carley did not seek to +analyze, the purported advent of this Lee Stanton pleased her. But she did +admit to her consciousness that women, herself included, were both as deep and +mysterious as the sea, yet as transparent as an inch of crystal water. +</p> + +<p> +It happened that the expected newcomer rode into camp before anyone left. +Before he dismounted he made a good impression on Carley, and as he stepped +down in lazy, graceful action, a tall lithe figure, she thought him singularly +handsome. He wore black sombrero, flannel shirt, blue jeans stuffed into high +boots, and long, big-roweled spurs. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you-all?” was his greeting. +</p> + +<p> +From the talk that ensued between him and the men, Carley concluded that he +must be overseer of the sheep hands. Carley knew that Hutter and Glenn were not +interested in cattle raising. And in fact they were, especially Hutter, +somewhat inimical to the dominance of the range land by cattle barons of +Flagstaff. +</p> + +<p> +“When’s Ryan goin’ to dip?” asked Hutter. +</p> + +<p> +“Today or tomorrow,” replied Stanton. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon we ought to ride over,” went on Hutter. “Say, Glenn, +do you reckon Miss Carley could stand a sheep-dip?” +</p> + +<p> +This was spoken in a low tone, scarcely intended for Carley, but she had keen +ears and heard distinctly. Not improbably this sheep-dip was what Flo meant as +the worst to come. Carley adopted a listless posture to hide her keen desire to +hear what Glenn would reply to Hutter. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say not!” whispered Glenn, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“Cut out that talk. She’ll hear you and want to go.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Carley felt mount in her breast an intense and rebellious +determination to see a sheep-dip. She would astonish Glenn. What did he want, +anyway? Had she not withstood the torturing trot of the hardest-gaited horse on +the range? Carley realized she was going to place considerable store upon that +feat. It grew on her. +</p> + +<p> +When the consultation of the men ended, Lee Stanton turned to Flo. And Carley +did not need to see the young man look twice to divine what ailed him. He was +caught in the toils of love. But seeing through Flo Hutter was entirely another +matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Howdy, Lee!” she said, coolly, with her clear eyes on him. A tiny +frown knitted her brow. She did not, at the moment, entirely approve of him. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore am glad to see you, Flo,” he said, with rather a heavy +expulsion of breath. He wore a cheerful grin that in no wise deceived Flo, or +Carley either. The young man had a furtive expression of eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Ahuh!” returned Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“I was shore sorry about—about that—” he floundered, in +low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“About what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, you know, Flo.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley strolled out of hearing, sure of two things—that she felt rather +sorry for Stanton, and that his course of love did not augur well for smooth +running. What queer creatures were women! Carley had seen several million +coquettes, she believed; and assuredly Flo Hutter belonged to the species. +</p> + +<p> +Upon Carley’s return to the cabin she found Stanton and Flo waiting for +her to accompany them on a ride up the foothill. She was so stiff and sore that +she could hardly mount into the saddle; and the first mile of riding was +something like a nightmare. She lagged behind Flo and Stanton, who apparently +forgot her in their quarrel. +</p> + +<p> +The riders soon struck the base of a long incline of rocky ground that led up +to the slope of the foothill. Here rocks and gravel gave place to black cinders +out of which grew a scant bleached grass. This desert verdure was what lent the +soft gray shade to the foothill when seen from a distance. The slope was +gentle, so that the ascent did not entail any hardship. Carley was amazed at +the length of the slope, and also to see how high over the desert she was +getting. She felt lifted out of a monotonous level. A green-gray league-long +cedar forest extended down toward Oak Creek. Behind her the magnificent bulk of +the mountains reached up into the stormy clouds, showing white slopes of snow +under the gray pall. +</p> + +<p> +The hoofs of the horses sank in the cinders. A fine choking dust assailed +Carley’s nostrils. Presently, when there appeared at least a third of the +ascent still to be accomplished and Flo dismounted to walk, leading their +horses. Carley had no choice but to do likewise. At first walking was a relief. +Soon, however, the soft yielding cinders began to drag at her feet. At every +step she slipped back a few inches, a very annoying feature of climbing. When +her legs seemed to grow dead Carley paused for a little rest. The last of the +ascent, over a few hundred yards of looser cinders, taxed her remaining +strength to the limit. She grew hot and wet and out of breath. Her heart +labored. An unreasonable antipathy seemed to attend her efforts. Only her +ridiculous vanity held her to this task. She wanted to please Glenn, but not so +earnestly that she would have kept on plodding up this ghastly bare mound of +cinders. Carley did not mind being a tenderfoot, but she hated the thought of +these Westerners considering her a weakling. So she bore the pain of raw +blisters and the miserable sensation of staggering on under a leaden weight. +</p> + +<p> +Several times she noted that Flo and Stanton halted to face each other in +rather heated argument. At least Stanton’s red face and forceful gestures +attested to heat on his part. Flo evidently was weary of argument, and in +answer to a sharp reproach she retorted, “Shore I was different after he +came.” To which Stanton responded by a quick passionate shrinking as if +he had been stung. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had her own reaction to this speech she could not help hearing; and +inwardly, at least, her feeling must have been similar to Stanton’s. She +forgot the object of this climb and looked off to her right at the green level +without really seeing it. A vague sadness weighed upon her soul. Was there to +be a tangle of fates here, a conflict of wills, a crossing of loves? +Flo’s terse confession could not be taken lightly. Did she mean that she +loved Glenn? Carley began to fear it. Only another reason why she must persuade +Glenn to go back East! But the closer Carley came to what she divined must be +an ordeal the more she dreaded it. This raw, crude West might have confronted +her with a situation beyond her control. And as she dragged her weighted feet +through the cinders, kicking, up little puffs of black dust, she felt what she +admitted to be an unreasonable resentment toward these Westerners and their +barren, isolated, and boundless world. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley,” called Flo, “come—looksee, as the Indians +say. Here is Glenn’s Painted Desert, and I reckon it’s shore worth +seeing.” +</p> + +<p> +To Carley’s surprise, she found herself upon the knob of the foothill. +And when she looked out across a suddenly distinguishable void she seemed +struck by the immensity of something she was unable to grasp. She dropped her +bridle; she gazed slowly, as if drawn, hearing Flo’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“That thin green line of cottonwoods down there is the Little Colorado +River,” Flo was saying. “Reckon it’s sixty miles, all down +hill. The Painted Desert begins there and also the Navajo Reservation. You see +the white strips, the red veins, the yellow bars, the black lines. They are all +desert steps leading up and up for miles. That sharp black peak is called +Wildcat. It’s about a hundred miles. You see the desert stretching away +to the right, growing dim—lost in distance? We don’t know that +country. But that north country we know as landmarks, anyway. Look at that +saw-tooth range. The Indians call it Echo Cliffs. At the far end it drops off +into the Colorado River. Lee’s Ferry is there—about one hundred and +sixty miles. That ragged black rent is the Grand Canyon. Looks like a thread, +doesn’t it? But Carley, it’s some hole, believe me. Away to the +left you see the tremendous wall rising and turning to come this way. +That’s the north wall of the Canyon. It ends at the great +bluff—Greenland Point. See the black fringe above the bar of gold. +That’s a belt of pine trees. It’s about eighty miles across this +ragged old stone washboard of a desert. ... Now turn and look straight and +strain your sight over Wildcat. See the rim purple dome. You must look hard. +I’m glad it’s clear and the sun is shining. We don’t often +get this view.... That purple dome is Navajo Mountain, two hundred miles and +more away!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley yielded to some strange drawing power and slowly walked forward until +she stood at the extreme edge of the summit. +</p> + +<p> +What was it that confounded her sight? Desert slope—down and +down—color—distance—space! The wind that blew in her face +seemed to have the openness of the whole world back of it. Cold, sweet, dry, +exhilarating, it breathed of untainted vastness. Carley’s memory pictures +of the Adirondacks faded into pastorals; her vaunted images of European scenery +changed to operetta settings. She had nothing with which to compare this +illimitable space. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!—America!” was her unconscious tribute. +</p> + +<p> +Stanton and Flo had come on to places beside her. The young man laughed. +“Wal, now Miss Carley, you couldn’t say more. When I was in camp +trainin’ for service overseas I used to remember how this looked. +An’ it seemed one of the things I was goin’ to fight for. Reckon I +didn’t the idea of the Germans havin’ my Painted Desert. I +didn’t get across to fight for it, but I shore was willin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Carley, this is our America,” said Flo, softly. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had never understood the meaning of the word. The immensity of the West +seemed flung at her. What her vision beheld, so far-reaching and boundless, was +only a dot on the map. +</p> + +<p> +“Does any one live—out there?” she asked, with slow sweep of +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“A few white traders and some Indian tribes,” replied Stanton. +“But you can ride all day an’ next day an’ never see a +livin’ soul.” +</p> + +<p> +What was the meaning of the gratification in his voice? Did Westerners court +loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look at her +companions. Stanton’s eyes were narrowed; his expression had changed; +lean and hard and still, his face resembled bronze. The careless humor was +gone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with Flo. The girl, too, had +subtly changed, had responded to an influence that had subdued and softened +her. She was mute; her eyes held a light, comprehensive and all-embracing; she +was beautiful then. For Carley, quick to read emotion, caught a glimpse of a +strong, steadfast soul that spiritualized the brown freckled face. +</p> + +<p> +Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incomprehensible abyss, and on to +the far up-flung heights, white and red and yellow, and so on to the wonderful +mystic haze of distance. The significance of Flo’s designation of miles +could not be grasped by Carley. She could not estimate distance. But she did +not need that to realize her perceptions were swallowed up by magnitude. +Hitherto the power of her eyes had been unknown. How splendid to see afar! She +could see—yes—but what did she see? Space first, annihilating +space, dwarfing her preconceived images, and then wondrous colors! What had she +known of color? No wonder artists failed adequately and truly to paint +mountains, let alone the desert space. The toiling millions of the crowded +cities were ignorant of this terrible beauty and sublimity. Would it have +helped them to see? But just to breathe that untainted air, just to see once +the boundless open of colored sand and rock—to realize what the freedom +of eagles meant would not that have helped anyone? +</p> + +<p> +And with the thought there came to Carley’s quickened and struggling mind +a conception of freedom. She had not yet watched eagles, but she now gazed out +into their domain. What then must be the effect of such environment on people +whom it encompassed? The idea stunned Carley. Would such people grow in +proportion to the nature with which they were in conflict? Hereditary influence +could not be comparable to such environment in the shaping of character. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I could stand here all day,” said Flo. “But it’s +beginning to cloud over and this high wind is cold. So we’d better go, +Carley.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what I am, but it’s not cold,” replied +Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, Miss Carley, I reckon you’ll have to come again an’ +again before you get a comfortable feelin’ here,” said Stanton. +</p> + +<p> +It surprised Carley to see that this young Westerner had hit upon the truth. He +understood her. Indeed she was uncomfortable. She was oppressed, vaguely +unhappy. But why? The thing there—the infinitude of open sand and +rock—was beautiful, wonderful, even glorious. She looked again. +</p> + +<p> +Steep black-cindered slope, with its soft gray patches of grass, sheered down +and down, and out in rolling slope to merge upon a cedar-dotted level. Nothing +moved below, but a red-tailed hawk sailed across her vision. How +still—how gray the desert floor as it reached away, losing its black +dots, and gaining bronze spots of stone! By plain and prairie it fell away, +each inch of gray in her sight magnifying into its league-long roll. On and on, +and down across dark lines that were steppes, and at last blocked and changed +by the meandering green thread which was the verdure of a desert river. Beyond +stretched the white sand, where whirlwinds of dust sent aloft their +funnel-shaped spouts; and it led up to the horizon-wide ribs and ridges of red +and walls of yellow and mountains of black, to the dim mound of purple so +ethereal and mystic against the deep-blue cloud-curtained band of sky. +</p> + +<p> +And on the moment the sun was obscured and that world of colorful flame went +out, as if a blaze had died. +</p> + +<p> +Deprived of its fire, the desert seemed to retreat, to fade coldly and +gloomily, to lose its great landmarks in dim obscurity. Closer, around to the +north, the canyon country yawned with innumerable gray jaws, ragged and hard, +and the riven earth took on a different character. It had no shadows. It grew +flat and, like the sea, seemed to mirror the vast gray cloud expanse. The +sublime vanished, but the desolate remained. No warmth—no +movement—no life! Dead stone it was, cut into a million ruts by ruthless +ages. Carley felt that she was gazing down into chaos. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment, as before, a hawk had crossed her vision, so now a raven sailed +by, black as coal, uttering a hoarse croak. +</p> + +<p> +“Quoth the raven—” murmured Carley, with a half-bitter laugh, +as she turned away shuddering in spite of an effort of self-control. +“Maybe he meant this wonderful and terrible West is never for such as +I.... Come, let us go.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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—” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing doing, Glenn,” she interrupted. “I’m going to +see what there is to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, dear—the men—the way they handle +sheep—they’ll—really it’s no sight for you,” he +floundered. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” she inquired, eying him. +</p> + +<p> +“Because, Carley—you know how you hate the—the seamy side of +things. And the stench—why, it’ll make you sick!” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, be on the level,” she said. “Suppose it does. +Wouldn’t you think more of me if I could stand it?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, how little you know a woman!” she exclaimed. “Come +along and show me your old sheep-dip.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +At this point the members of Hutter’s party dismounted and tied their +horses to the top log of the fence. When Carley essayed to get off Glenn tried +to stop her, saying she could see well enough from there. But Carley got down +and followed Flo. She heard Hutter call to Glenn: “Say, Ryan is short of +men. We’ll lend a hand for a couple of hours.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently Carley reached Flo’s side and the first corral that contained +sheep. They formed a compact woolly mass, rather white in color, with a tinge +of pink. When Flo climbed up on the fence the flock plunged as one animal and +with a trampling roar ran to the far side of the corral. Several old rams with +wide curling horns faced around; and some of the ewes climbed up on the densely +packed mass. Carley rather enjoyed watching them. She surely could not see +anything amiss in this sight. +</p> + +<p> +The next corral held a like number of sheep, and also several Mexicans who were +evidently driving them into a narrow lane that led farther down. Carley saw the +heads of men above other corral fences, and there was also a thick yellowish +smoke rising from somewhere. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, are you game to see the dip?” asked Flo, with good nature +that yet had a touch of taunt in it. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s my middle name,” retorted Carley, flippantly. +</p> + +<p> +Both Glenn and this girl seemed to be bent upon bringing out Carley’s +worst side, and they were succeeding. Flo laughed. The ready slang pleased her. +</p> + +<p> +She led Carley along that log fence, through a huge open gate, and across a +wide pen to another fence, which she scaled. Carley followed her, not +particularly overanxious to look ahead. Some thick odor had begun to reach +Carley’s delicate nostrils. Flo led down a short lane and climbed another +fence, and sat astride the top log. Carley hurried along to clamber up to her +side, but stood erect with her feet on the second log of the fence. +</p> + +<p> +Then a horrible stench struck Carley almost like a blow in the face, and before +her confused sight there appeared to be drifting smoke and active men and +running sheep, all against a background of mud. But at first it was the odor +that caused Carley to close her eyes and press her knees hard against the upper +log to keep from reeling. Never in her life had such a sickening nausea +assailed her. It appeared to attack her whole body. The forerunning qualm of +seasickness was as nothing to this. Carley gave a gasp, pinched her nose +between her fingers so she could not smell, and opened her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Directly beneath her was a small pen open at one end into which sheep were +being driven from the larger corral. The drivers were yelling. The sheep in the +rear plunged into those ahead of them, forcing them on. Two men worked in this +small pen. One was a brawny giant in undershirt and overalls that appeared +filthy. He held a cloth in his hand and strode toward the nearest sheep. +Folding the cloth round the neck of the sheep, he dragged it forward, with an +ease which showed great strength, and threw it into a pit that yawned at the +side. Souse went the sheep into a murky, muddy pool and disappeared. But +suddenly its head came up and then its shoulders. And it began half to walk and +half swim down what appeared to be a narrow boxlike ditch that contained other +floundering sheep. Then Carley saw men on each side of this ditch bending over +with poles that had crooks at the end, and their work was to press and pull the +sheep along to the end of the ditch, and drive them up a boarded incline into +another corral where many other sheep huddled, now a dirty muddy color like the +liquid into which they had been emersed. Souse! Splash! In went sheep after +sheep. Occasionally one did not go under. And then a man would press it under +with the crook and quickly lift its head. The work went on with precision and +speed, in spite of the yells and trampling and baa-baas, and the incessant +action that gave an effect of confusion. +</p> + +<p> +Carley saw a pipe leading from a huge boiler to the ditch. The dark fluid was +running out of it. From a rusty old engine with big smokestack poured the +strangling smoke. A man broke open a sack of yellow powder and dumped it into +the ditch. Then he poured an acid-like liquid after it. +</p> + +<p> +“Sulphur and nicotine,” yelled Flo up at Carley. “The +dip’s poison. If a sheep opens his mouth he’s usually a goner. But +sometimes they save one.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley wanted to tear herself away from this disgusting spectacle. But it held +her by some fascination. She saw Glenn and Hutter fall in line with the other +men, and work like beavers. These two pacemakers in the small pen kept the +sheep coming so fast that every worker below had a task cut out for him. +Suddenly Flo squealed and pointed. +</p> + +<p> +“There! that sheep didn’t come up,” she cried. “Shore +he opened his mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Carley saw Glenn energetically plunge his hooked pole in and out and +around until he had located the submerged sheep. He lifted its head above the +dip. The sheep showed no sign of life. Down on his knees dropped Glenn, to +reach the sheep with strong brown hands, and to haul it up on the ground, where +it flopped inert. Glenn pummeled it and pressed it, and worked on it much as +Carley had seen a life-guard work over a half-drowned man. But the sheep did +not respond to Glenn’s active administrations. +</p> + +<p> +“No use, Glenn,” yelled Hutter, hoarsely. “That one’s a +goner.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley did not fail to note the state of Glenn’s hands and arms and +overalls when he returned to the ditch work. Then back and forth Carley’s +gaze went from one end to the other of that scene. And suddenly it was arrested +and held by the huge fellow who handled the sheep so brutally. Every time he +dragged one and threw it into the pit he yelled: “Ho! Ho!” Carley +was impelled to look at his face, and she was amazed to meet the rawest and +boldest stare from evil eyes that had ever been her misfortune to incite. She +felt herself stiffen with a shock that was unfamiliar. This man was scarcely +many years older than Glenn, yet he had grizzled hair, a seamed and scarred +visage, coarse, thick lips, and beetling brows, from under which peered +gleaming light eyes. At every turn he flashed them upon Carley’s face, +her neck, the swell of her bosom. It was instinct that caused her hastily to +close her riding coat. She felt as if her flesh had been burned. Like a snake +he fascinated her. The intelligence in his bold gaze made the beastliness of it +all the harder to endure, all the stronger to arouse. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Carley, let’s rustle out of this stinkin’ mess,” +cried Flo. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, Carley needed Flo’s assistance in clambering down out of the +choking smoke and horrid odor. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Adios</i>, pretty eyes,” called the big man from the pen. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” ejaculated Flo, when they got out, “I’ll bet I +call Glenn good and hard for letting you go down there.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was—my—fault,” panted Carley. “I said +I’d stand it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’re game, all right. I didn’t mean the dip.... That +sheep-slinger is Haze Ruff, the toughest <i>hombre</i> on this range. Shore, +now, wouldn’t I like to take a shot at him?... I’m going to tell +dad and Glenn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t,” returned Carley, appealingly. +</p> + +<p> +“I shore am. Dad needs hands these days. That’s why he’s +lenient. But Glenn will cowhide Ruff and I want to see him do it.” +</p> + +<p> +In Flo Hutter then Carley saw another and a different spirit of the West, a +violence unrestrained and fierce that showed in the girl’s even voice and +in the piercing light of her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +They went back to the horses, got their lunches from the saddlebags, and, +finding comfortable seats in a sunny, protected place, they ate and talked. +Carley had to force herself to swallow. It seemed that the horrid odor of dip +and sheep had permeated everything. Glenn had known her better than she had +known herself, and he had wished to spare her an unnecessary and disgusting +experience. Yet so stubborn was Carley that she did not regret going through +with it. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I don’t mind telling you that you’ve stuck it out +better than any tenderfoot we ever had here,” said Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you. That from a Western girl is a compliment I’ll not soon +forget,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“I shore mean it. We’ve had rotten weather. And to end the little +trip at this sheep-dip hole! Why, Glenn certainly wanted you to stack up +against the real thing!” +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, he did not want me to come on the trip, and especially here,” +protested Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I know. But he <i>let</i> you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither Glenn nor any other man could prevent me from doing what I +wanted to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” drawled Flo, “I’ll +differ with you. I reckon Glenn Kilbourne is not the man you knew before the +war.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he is not. But that does not alter the case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, we’re not well acquainted,” went on Flo, more +carefully feeling her way, “and I’m not your kind. I don’t +know your Eastern ways. But I know what the West does to a man. The war ruined +your friend—both his body and mind.... How sorry mother and I were for +Glenn, those days when it looked he’d sure ‘go west,’ for +good!... Did you know he’d been gassed and that he had five +hemorrhages?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I knew his lungs had been weakened by gas. But he never told me +about having hemorrhages.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he shore had them. The last one I’ll never forget. Every +time he’d cough it would fetch the blood. I could tell!... Oh, it was +awful. I begged him <i>not</i> to cough. He smiled—like a ghost +smiling—and he whispered, ‘I’ll quit.’... And he did. +The doctor came from Flagstaff and packed him in ice. Glenn sat propped up all +night and never moved a muscle. Never coughed again! And the bleeding stopped. +After that we put him out on the porch where he could breathe fresh air all the +time. There’s something wonderfully healing in Arizona air. It’s +from the dry desert and here it’s full of cedar and pine. Anyway Glenn +got well. And I think the West has cured his mind, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what?” queried Carley, in an intense curiosity she could +scarcely hide. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, God only knows!” exclaimed Flo, throwing up her gloved hands. +“I never could understand. But I <i>hated</i> what the war did to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley leaned back against the log, quite spent. Flo was unwittingly torturing +her. Carley wanted passionately to give in to jealousy of this Western girl, +but she could not do it. Flo Hutter deserved better than that. And +Carley’s baser nature seemed in conflict with all that was noble in her. +The victory did not yet go to either side. This was a bad hour for Carley. Her +strength had about played out, and her spirit was at low ebb. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you’re all in,” declared Flo. “You +needn’t deny it. I’m shore you’ve made good with me as a +tenderfoot who stayed the limit. But there’s no sense in your killing +yourself, nor in me letting you. So I’m going to tell dad we want to go +home.” +</p> + +<p> +She left Carley there. The word home had struck strangely into Carley’s +mind and remained there. Suddenly she realized what it was to be homesick. The +comfort, the ease, the luxury, the rest, the sweetness, the pleasure, the +cleanliness, the gratification to eye and ear—to all the senses—how +these thoughts came to haunt her! All of Carley’s will power had been +needed to sustain her on this trip to keep her from miserably failing. She had +not failed. But contact with the West had affronted, disgusted, shocked, and +alienated her. In that moment she could not be fair minded; she knew it; she +did not care. +</p> + +<p> +Carley gazed around her. Only one of the cabins was in sight from this +position. Evidently it was a home for some of these men. On one side the peaked +rough roof had been built out beyond the wall, evidently to serve as a kind of +porch. On that wall hung the motliest assortment of things Carley had ever +seen—utensils, sheep and cow hides, saddles, harness, leather clothes, +ropes, old sombreros, shovels, stove pipe, and many other articles for which +she could find no name. The most striking characteristic manifest in this +collection was that of service. How they had been used! They had enabled people +to live under primitive conditions. Somehow this fact inhibited Carley’s +sense of repulsion at their rude and uncouth appearance. Had any of her +forefathers ever been pioneers? Carley did not know, but the thought was +disturbing. It was thought-provoking. Many times at home, when she was dressing +for dinner, she had gazed into the mirror at the graceful lines of her throat +and arms, at the proud poise of her head, at the alabaster whiteness of her +skin, and wonderingly she had asked of her image: “Can it be possible +that I am a descendant of cavemen?” She had never been able to realize +it, yet she knew it was true. Perhaps somewhere not far back along her line +there had been a great-great-grandmother who had lived some kind of a primitive +life, using such implements and necessaries as hung on this cabin wall, and +thereby helped some man to conquer the wilderness, to live in it, and reproduce +his kind. Like flashes Glenn’s words came back to +Carley—“Work and children!” +</p> + +<p> +Some interpretation of his meaning and how it related to this hour held aloof +from Carley. If she would ever be big enough to understand it and broad enough +to accept it the time was far distant. Just now she was sore and sick +physically, and therefore certainly not in a receptive state of mind. Yet how +could she have keener impressions than these she was receiving? It was all a +problem. She grew tired of thinking. But even then her mind pondered on, a +stream of consciousness over which she had no control. This dreary woods was +deserted. No birds, no squirrels, no creatures such as fancy anticipated! In +another direction, across the canyon, she saw cattle, gaunt, ragged, lumbering, +and stolid. And on the moment the scent of sheep came on the breeze. Time +seemed to stand still here, and what Carley wanted most was for the hours and +days to fly, so that she would be home again. +</p> + +<p> +At last Flo returned with the men. One quick glance at Glenn convinced Carley +that Flo had not yet told him about the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you’re a real sport,” declared Glenn, with the rare +smile she loved. “It’s a dreadful mess. And to think you stood +it!... Why, old Fifth Avenue, if you needed to make another hit with me +you’ve done it!” +</p> + +<p> +His warmth amazed and pleased Carley. She could not quite understand why it +would have made any difference to him whether she had stood the ordeal or not. +But then every day she seemed to drift a little farther from a real +understanding of her lover. His praise gladdened her, and fortified her to face +the rest of this ride back to Oak Creek. +</p> + +<p> +Four hours later, in a twilight so shadowy that no one saw her distress, Carley +half slipped and half fell from her horse and managed somehow to mount the +steps and enter the bright living room. A cheerful red fire blazed on the +hearth; Glenn’s hound, Moze, trembled eagerly at sight of her and looked +up with humble dark eyes; the white-clothed dinner table steamed with savory +dishes. Flo stood before the blaze, warming her hands. Lee Stanton leaned +against the mantel, with eyes on her, and every line of his lean, hard face +expressed his devotion to her. Hutter was taking his seat at the head of the +table. “Come an’ get it—you-all,” he called, heartily. +Mrs. Hutter’s face beamed with the spirit of that home. And lastly, +Carley saw Glenn waiting for her, watching her come, true in this very moment +to his stern hope for her and pride in her, as she dragged her weary, spent +body toward him and the bright fire. +</p> + +<p> +By these signs, or the effect of them, Carley vaguely realized that she was +incalculably changing, that this Carley Burch had become a vastly bigger person +in the sight of her friends, and strangely in her own a lesser creature. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"></a> +CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p> +If spring came at all to Oak Creek Canyon it warmed into summer before Carley +had time to languish with the fever characteristic of early June in the East. +</p> + +<p> +As if by magic it seemed the green grass sprang up, the green buds opened into +leaves, the bluebells and primroses bloomed, the apple and peach blossoms burst +exquisitely white and pink against the blue sky. Oak Creek fell to a +transparent, beautiful brook, leisurely eddying in the stone walled nooks, +hurrying with murmur and babble over the little falls. The mornings broke clear +and fragrantly cool, the noon hours seemed to lag under a hot sun, the nights +fell like dark mantles from the melancholy star-sown sky. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had stubbornly kept on riding and climbing until she killed her secret +doubt that she was really a thoroughbred, until she satisfied her own insistent +vanity that she could train to a point where this outdoor life was not too much +for her strength. She lost flesh despite increase of appetite; she lost her +pallor for a complexion of gold-brown she knew her Eastern friends would +admire; she wore out the blisters and aches and pains; she found herself +growing firmer of muscle, lither of line, deeper of chest. And in addition to +these physical manifestations there were subtle intimations of a delight in a +freedom of body she had never before known, of an exhilaration in action that +made her hot and made her breathe, of a sloughing off of numberless petty and +fussy and luxurious little superficialities which she had supposed were +necessary to her happiness. What she had undertaken in vain conquest of +Glenn’s pride and Flo Hutter’s Western tolerance she had found to +be a boomerang. She had won Glenn’s admiration; she had won the Western +girl’s recognition. But her passionate, stubborn desire had been ignoble, +and was proved so by the rebound of her achievement, coming home to her with a +sweetness she had not the courage to accept. She forced it from her. This West +with its rawness, its ruggedness, she hated. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, the June days passed, growing dreamily swift, growing more +incomprehensibly full; and still she had not broached to Glenn the main object +of her visit—to take him back East. Yet a little while longer! She hated +his work and had not talked of that. Yet an honest consciousness told her that +as time flew by she feared more and more to tell him that he was wasting his +life there and that she could not bear it. Still was he wasting it? Once in a +while a timid and unfamiliar Carley Burch voiced a pregnant query. Perhaps what +held Carley back most was the happiness she achieved in her walks and rides +with Glenn. She lingered because of them. Every day she loved him more, and +yet—there was something. Was it in her or in him? She had a woman’s +assurance of his love and sometimes she caught her breath—so sweet and +strong was the tumultuous emotion it stirred. She preferred to enjoy while she +could, to dream instead of think. But it was not possible to hold a blank, +dreamy, lulled consciousness all the time. Thought would return. And not always +could she drive away a feeling that Glenn would never be her slave. She divined +something in his mind that kept him gentle and kindly, restrained always, +sometimes melancholy and aloof, as if he were an impassive destiny waiting for +the iron consequences he knew inevitably must fall. What was this that he knew +which she did not know? The idea haunted her. Perhaps it was that which +compelled her to use all her woman’s wiles and charms on Glenn. Still, +though it thrilled her to see she made him love her more as the days passed, +she could not blind herself to the truth that no softness or allurement of hers +changed this strange restraint in him. How that baffled her! Was it resistance +or knowledge or nobility or doubt? +</p> + +<p> +Flo Hutter’s twentieth birthday came along the middle of June, and all +the neighbors and range hands for miles around were invited to celebrate it. +</p> + +<p> +For the second time during her visit Carley put on the white gown that had made +Flo gasp with delight, and had stunned Mrs. Hutter, and had brought a reluctant +compliment from Glenn. Carley liked to create a sensation. What were exquisite +and expensive gowns for, if not that? +</p> + +<p> +It was twilight on this particular June night when she was ready to go +downstairs, and she tarried a while on the long porch. The evening star, so +lonely and radiant, so cold and passionless in the dusky blue, had become an +object she waited for and watched, the same as she had come to love the +dreaming, murmuring melody of the waterfall. She lingered there. What had the +sights and sounds and smells of this wild canyon come to mean to her? She could +not say. But they had changed her immeasurably. +</p> + +<p> +Her soft slippers made no sound on the porch, and as she turned the corner of +the house, where shadows hovered thick, she heard Lee Stanton’s voice: +</p> + +<p> +“But, Flo, you loved me before Kilbourne came.” +</p> + +<p> +The content, the pathos, of his voice chained Carley to the spot. Some +situations, like fate, were beyond resisting. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I did,” replied Flo, dreamily. This was the voice of a girl +who was being confronted by happy and sad thoughts on her birthday. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you—love me—still?” he asked, huskily. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course, Lee! <i>I</i> don’t change,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“But then, why—” There for the moment his utterance or +courage failed. +</p> + +<p> +“Lee, do you want the honest to God’s truth?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon—I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I love you just as I always did,” replied Flo, earnestly. +“But, Lee, I love—<i>him</i> more than you or anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Heaven! Flo—you’ll ruin us all!” he exclaimed, +hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I won’t either. You can’t say I’m not level +headed. I hated to tell you this, Lee, but you made me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, you love me an’ him—two men?” queried Stanton, +incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“I shore do,” she drawled, with a soft laugh. “And it’s +no fun.” +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon I don’t cut much of a figure alongside Kilbourne,” +said Stanton, disconsolately. +</p> + +<p> +“Lee, you could stand alongside any man,” replied Flo, eloquently. +“You’re Western, and you’re steady and loyal, and +you’ll—well, some day you’ll be like dad. Could I say +more?... But, Lee, this man is <i>different</i>. He is wonderful. I can’t +explain it, but I feel it. He has been through hell’s fire. Oh! will I +ever forget his ravings when he lay so ill? He means more to me than just +<i>one</i> man. He’s American. You’re American, too, Lee, and you +trained to be a soldier, and you would have made a grand one—if I know +old Arizona. But you were not called to France.... Glenn Kilbourne went. God +only knows what that means. But he <i>went</i>. And there’s the +difference. I saw the wreck of him. I did a little to save his life and his +mind. I wouldn’t be an American girl if I <i>didn’t</i> love +him.... Oh, Lee, can’t you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon so. I’m not begrudging Glenn what—what you care. +I’m only afraid I’ll lose you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never promised to marry you, did I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in words. But kisses ought to—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, kisses mean a lot,” she replied. “And so far I stand +committed. I suppose I’ll marry you some day and be blamed lucky. +I’ll be happy, too—don’t you overlook that hunch.... You +needn’t worry. Glenn is in love with Carley. She’s beautiful, +rich—and of his class. How could he ever see me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, you can never tell,” replied Stanton, thoughtfully. “I +didn’t like her at first. But I’m comin’ round. The thing is, +Flo, does she love him as you love him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think so—I hope so,” answered Flo, as if in distress. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so shore. But then I can’t savvy her. Lord knows I +hope so, too. If she doesn’t—if she goes back East an’ leaves +him here—I reckon my case—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush! I know she’s out here to take him back. Let’s go +downstairs now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, wait—Flo,” he begged. “What’s your hurry?... +Come-give me—” +</p> + +<p> +“There! That’s all you get, birthday or no birthday,” replied +Flo, gayly. +</p> + +<p> +Carley heard the soft kiss and Stanton’s deep breath, and then footsteps +as they walked away in the gloom toward the stairway. Carley leaned against the +log wall. She felt the rough wood—smelled the rusty pine rosin. Her other +hand pressed her bosom where her heart beat with unwonted vigor. Footsteps and +voices sounded beneath her. Twilight had deepened into night. The low murmur of +the waterfall and the babble of the brook floated to her strained ears. +</p> + +<p> +Listeners never heard good of themselves. But Stanton’s subtle doubt of +any depth to her, though it hurt, was not so conflicting as the ringing truth +of Flo Hutter’s love for Glenn. This unsought knowledge powerfully +affected Carley. She was forewarned and forearmed now. It saddened her, yet did +not lessen her confidence in her hold on Glenn. But it stirred to perplexing +pitch her curiosity in regard to the mystery that seemed to cling round +Glenn’s transformation of character. This Western girl really knew more +about Glenn than his fiancée knew. Carley suffered a humiliating shock when she +realized that she had been thinking of herself, of her love, her life, her +needs, her wants instead of Glenn’s. It took no keen intelligence or +insight into human nature to see that Glenn needed her more than she needed +him. +</p> + +<p> +Thus unwontedly stirred and upset and flung back upon pride of herself, Carley +went downstairs to meet the assembled company. And never had she shown to +greater contrast, never had circumstance and state of mind contrived to make +her so radiant and gay and unbending. She heard many remarks not intended for +her far-reaching ears. An old grizzled Westerner remarked to Hutter: +“Wall, she’s shore an unbroke filly.” Another of the +company—a woman—remarked: “Sweet an’ pretty as a +columbine. But I’d like her better if she was dressed decent.” And +a gaunt range rider, who stood with others at the porch door, looking on, asked +a comrade: “Do you reckon that’s style back East?” To which +the other replied: “Mebbe, but I’d gamble they’re short on +silk back East an’ likewise sheriffs.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley received some meed of gratification out of the sensation she created, +but she did not carry her craving for it to the point of overshadowing Flo. On +the contrary, she contrived to have Flo share the attention she received. She +taught Flo to dance the fox-trot and got Glenn to dance with her. Then she +taught it to Lee Stanton. And when Lee danced with Flo, to the infinite wonder +and delight of the onlookers, Carley experienced her first sincere enjoyment of +the evening. +</p> + +<p> +Her moment came when she danced with Glenn. It reminded her of days long past +and which she wanted to return again. Despite war tramping and Western labors +Glenn retained something of his old grace and lightness. But just to dance with +him was enough to swell her heart, and for once she grew oblivious to the +spectators. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, would you like to go to the Plaza with me again, and dance +between dinner courses, as we used to?” she whispered up to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure I would—unless Morrison knew you were to be there,” he +replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn!... I would not even see him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any old time you wouldn’t see Morrison!” he exclaimed, half +mockingly. +</p> + +<p> +His doubt, his tone grated upon her. Pressing closer to him, she said, +“Come back and I’ll prove it.” +</p> + +<p> +But he laughed and had no answer for her. At her own daring words +Carley’s heart had leaped to her lips. If he had responded, even +teasingly, she could have burst out with her longing to take him back. But +silence inhibited her, and the moment passed. +</p> + +<p> +At the end of that dance Hutter claimed Glenn in the interest of neighboring +sheep men. And Carley, crossing the big living room alone, passed close to one +of the porch doors. Some one, indistinct in the shadow, spoke to her in low +voice: “Hello, pretty eyes!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley felt a little cold shock go tingling through her. But she gave no sign +that she had heard. She recognized the voice and also the epithet. Passing to +the other side of the room and joining the company there, Carley presently took +a casual glance at the door. Several men were lounging there. One of them was +the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. His bold eyes were on her now, and his coarse face +wore a slight, meaning smile, as if he understood something about her that was +a secret to others. Carley dropped her eyes. But she could not shake off the +feeling that wherever she moved this man’s gaze followed her. The +unpleasantness of this incident would have been nothing to Carley had she at +once forgotten it. Most unaccountably, however, she could not make herself +unaware of this ruffian’s attention. It did no good for her to argue that +she was merely the cynosure of all eyes. This Ruff’s tone and look +possessed something heretofore unknown to Carley. Once she was tempted to tell +Glenn. But that would only cause a fight, so she kept her counsel. She danced +again, and helped Flo entertain her guests, and passed that door often; and +once stood before it, deliberately, with all the strange and contrary impulse +so inscrutable in a woman, and never for a moment wholly lost the sense of the +man’s boldness. It dawned upon her, at length, that the singular thing +about this boldness was its difference from any, which had ever before +affronted her. The fool’s smile meant that he thought she saw his +attention, and, understanding it perfectly, had secret delight in it. Many and +various had been the masculine egotisms which had come under her observation. +But quite beyond Carley was this brawny sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. Once the party +broke up and the guests had departed, she instantly forgot both man and +incident. +</p> + +<p> +Next day, late in the afternoon, when Carley came out on the porch, she was +hailed by Flo, who had just ridden in from down the canyon. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey Carley, come down. I shore have something to tell you,” she +called. +</p> + +<p> +Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway. Flo was +dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of sheep-dip. +</p> + +<p> +“Been over to Ryan’s camp an’ shore rode hard to beat Glenn +home,” drawled Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” queried Carley, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn’t let +me tell. ... He makes me tired. He thinks you can’t stand things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Has he been—hurt?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s skinned an’ bruised up some, but I reckon he’s +not hurt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Flo—what happened?” demanded Carley, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?” asked Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t. But I remember he used to be athletic. Flo, you make +me nervous. Did Glenn fight?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon he did,” drawled Flo. +</p> + +<p> +“With whom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody else but that big <i>hombre</i>, Haze Ruff.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” gasped Carley, with a violent start. “That—that +ruffian! Flo, did you see—were you there?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shore was, an’ next to a horse race I like a fight,” +replied the Western girl. “Carley, why didn’t you tell me Haze Ruff +insulted you last night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Flo—he only said, ‘Hello, pretty eyes,’ and I let +it pass!” said Carley, lamely. +</p> + +<p> +“You never want to let anything pass, out West. Because next time +you’ll get worse. This turn your other cheek doesn’t go in Arizona. +But we shore thought Ruff said worse than that. Though from him that’s +aplenty.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Charley told it. He was standing out here by the door last night +an’ he heard Ruff speak to you. Charley thinks a heap of you an’ I +reckon he hates Ruff. Besides, Charley stretches things. He shore riled Glenn, +an’ I want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that’s +happened since you got here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry—tell me,” begged Carley, feeling the blood come to her +face. +</p> + +<p> +“I rode over to Ryan’s place for dad, an’ when I got there I +knew nothing about what Ruff said to you,” began Flo, and she took hold +of Carley’s hand. “Neither did dad. You see, Glenn hadn’t got +there yet. Well, just as the men had finished dipping a bunch of sheep Glenn +came riding down, lickety cut.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Now what the hell’s wrong with Glenn?’ said dad, +getting up from where we sat. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I knew Glenn was mad, though I never before saw him that way. He +looked sort of grim an’ black.... Well, he rode right down on us +an’ piled off. Dad yelled at him an’ so did I. But Glenn made for +the sheep pen. You know where we watched Haze Ruff an’ Lorenzo slinging +the sheep into the dip. Ruff was just about to climb out over the fence when +Glenn leaped up on it.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Say, Ruff,’ he said, sort of hard, ‘Charley an’ +Ben tell me they heard you speak disrespectfully to Miss Burch last +night.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Dad an’ I ran to the fence, but before we could catch hold of +Glenn he’d jumped down into the pen.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘I’m not carin’ much for what them herders say,’ +replied Ruff. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Do you deny it?’ demanded Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I ain’t denyin’ nothin’, Kilbourne,’ +growled Ruff. ‘I might argue against me bein’ disrespectful. +That’s a matter of opinion.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘You’ll apologize for speaking to Miss Burch or I’ll +beat you up an’ have Hutter fire you.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Wal, Kilbourne, I never eat my words,’ replied Ruff. +</p> + +<p> +“Then Glenn knocked him flat. You ought to have heard that crack. Sounded +like Charley hitting a steer with a club. Dad yelled: ‘Look out, Glenn. +He packs a gun!’—Ruff got up mad clear through I reckon. Then they +mixed it. Ruff got in some swings, but he couldn’t reach Glenn’s +face. An’ Glenn batted him right an’ left, every time in his ugly +mug. Ruff got all bloody an’ he cussed something awful. Glenn beat him +against the fence an’ then we all saw Ruff reach for a gun or knife. All +the men yelled. An’ shore I screamed. But Glenn saw as much as we saw. He +got fiercer. He beat Ruff down to his knees an’ swung on him hard. +Deliberately knocked Ruff into the dip ditch. What a splash! It wet all of us. +Ruff went out of sight. Then he rolled up like a huge hog. We were all scared +now. That dip’s rank poison, you know. Reckon Ruff knew that. He +floundered along an’ crawled up at the end. Anyone could see that he had +mouth an’ eyes tight shut. He began to grope an’ feel around, +trying to find the way to the pond. One of the men led him out. It was great to +see him wade in the water an’ wallow an’ souse his head under. When +he came out the men got in front of him any stopped him. He shore looked +bad.... An’ Glenn called to him, ‘Ruff, that sheep-dip won’t +go through your tough hide, but a bullet will!” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Not long after this incident Carley started out on her usual afternoon ride, +having arranged with Glenn to meet her on his return from work. +</p> + +<p> +Toward the end of June Carley had advanced in her horsemanship to a point where +Flo lent her one of her own mustangs. This change might not have had all to do +with a wonderful difference in riding, but it seemed so to Carley. There was as +much difference in horses as in people. This mustang she had ridden of late was +of Navajo stock, but he had been born and raised and broken at Oak Creek. +Carley had not yet discovered any objection on his part to do as she wanted him +to. He liked what she liked, and most of all he liked to go. His color +resembled a pattern of calico, and in accordance with Western ways his name was +therefore Calico. Left to choose his own gait, Calico always dropped into a +gentle pace which was so easy and comfortable and swinging that Carley never +tired of it. Moreover, he did not shy at things lying in the road or rabbits +darting from bushes or at the upwhirring of birds. Carley had grown attached to +Calico before she realized she was drifting into it; and for Carley to care for +anything or anybody was a serious matter, because it did not happen often and +it lasted. She was exceedingly tenacious of affection. +</p> + +<p> +June had almost passed and summer lay upon the lonely land. Such perfect and +wonderful weather had never before been Carley’s experience. The dawns +broke cool, fresh, fragrant, sweet, and rosy, with a breeze that seemed of +heaven rather than earth, and the air seemed tremulously full of the murmur of +falling water and the melody of mocking birds. At the solemn noontides the +great white sun glared down hot—so hot that it burned the skin, yet +strangely was a pleasant burn. The waning afternoons were Carley’s +especial torment, when it seemed the sounds and winds of the day were tiring, +and all things were seeking repose, and life must soften to an unthinking +happiness. These hours troubled Carley because she wanted them to last, and +because she knew for her this changing and transforming time could not last. So +long as she did not think she was satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +Maples and sycamores and oaks were in full foliage, and their bright greens +contrasted softly with the dark shine of the pines. Through the spaces between +brown tree trunks and the white-spotted holes of the sycamores gleamed the +amber water of the creek. Always there was murmur of little rills and the +musical dash of little rapids. On the surface of still, shady pools trout broke +to make ever-widening ripples. Indian paintbrush, so brightly carmine in color, +lent touch of fire to the green banks, and under the oaks, in cool dark nooks +where mossy bowlders lined the stream, there were stately nodding yellow +columbines. And high on the rock ledges shot up the wonderful mescal stalks, +beginning to blossom, some with tints of gold and others with tones of red. +</p> + +<p> +Riding along down the canyon, under its looming walls, Carley wondered that if +unawares to her these physical aspects of Arizona could have become more +significant than she realized. The thought had confronted her before. Here, as +always, she fought it and denied it by the simple defense of elimination. Yet +refusing to think of a thing when it seemed ever present was not going to do +forever. Insensibly and subtly it might get a hold on her, never to be broken. +Yet it was infinitely easier to dream than to think. +</p> + +<p> +But the thought encroached upon her that it was not a dreamful habit of mind +she had fallen into of late. When she dreamed or mused she lived vaguely and +sweetly over past happy hours or dwelt in enchanted fancy upon a possible +future. Carley had been told by a Columbia professor that she was a type of the +present age—a modern young woman of materialistic mind. Be that as it +might, she knew many things seemed loosening from the narrowness and tightness +of her character, sloughing away like scales, exposing a new and strange and +susceptible softness of fiber. And this blank habit of mind, when she did not +think, and now realized that she was not dreaming, seemed to be the body of +Carley Burch, and her heart and soul stripped of a shell. Nerve and emotion and +spirit received something from her surroundings. She absorbed her environment. +She felt. It was a delightful state. But when her own consciousness caused it +to elude her, then she both resented and regretted. Anything that approached +permanent attachment to this crude and untenanted West Carley would not +tolerate for a moment. Reluctantly she admitted it had bettered her health, +quickened her blood, and quite relegated Florida and the Adirondacks, to little +consideration. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as I told Glenn,” soliloquized Carley, “every time +I’m almost won over a little to Arizona she gives me a hard jolt. +I’m getting near being mushy today. Now let’s see what I’ll +get. I suppose that’s my pessimism or materialism. Funny how Glenn keeps +saying its the jolts, the hard knocks, the fights that are best to remember +afterward. I don’t get that at all.” +</p> + +<p> +Five miles below West Fork a road branched off and climbed the left side of the +canyon. It was a rather steep road, long and zigzaging, and full of rocks and +ruts. Carley did not enjoy ascending it, but she preferred the going up to +coming down. It took half an hour to climb. +</p> + +<p> +Once up on the flat cedar-dotted desert she was met, full in the face, by a hot +dusty wind coming from the south. Carley searched her pockets for her goggles, +only to ascertain that she had forgotten them. Nothing, except a freezing +sleety wind, annoyed and punished Carley so much as a hard puffy wind, full of +sand and dust. Somewhere along the first few miles of this road she was to meet +Glenn. If she turned back for any cause he would be worried, and, what +concerned her more vitally, he would think she had not the courage to face a +little dust. So Carley rode on. +</p> + +<p> +The wind appeared to be gusty. It would blow hard awhile, then lull for a few +moments. On the whole, however, it increased in volume and persistence until +she was riding against a gale. She had now come to a bare, flat, gravelly +region, scant of cedars and brush, and far ahead she could see a dull yellow +pall rising high into the sky. It was a duststorm and it was sweeping down on +the wings of that gale. Carley remembered that somewhere along this flat there +was a log cabin which had before provided shelter for her and Flo when they +were caught in a rainstorm. It seemed unlikely that she had passed by this +cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Resolutely she faced the gale and knew she had a task to find that refuge. If +there had been a big rock or bushy cedar to offer shelter she would have +welcomed it. But there was nothing. When the hard dusty gusts hit her, she +found it absolutely necessary to shut her eyes. At intervals less windy she +opened them, and rode on, peering through the yellow gloom for the cabin. Thus +she got her eyes full of dust—an alkali dust that made them sting and +smart. The fiercer puffs of wind carried pebbles large enough to hurt severely. +Then the dust clogged her nose and sand got between her teeth. Added to these +annoyances was a heat like a blast from a furnace. Carley perspired freely and +that caked the dust on her face. She rode on, gradually growing more +uncomfortable and miserable. Yet even then she did not utterly lose a sort of +thrilling zest in being thrown upon her own responsibility. She could hate an +obstacle, yet feel something of pride in holding her own against it. +</p> + +<p> +Another mile of buffeting this increasing gale so exhausted Carley and wrought +upon her nerves that she became nearly panic-stricken. It grew harder and +harder not to turn back. At last she was about to give up when right at hand +through the flying dust she espied the cabin. Riding behind it, she dismounted +and tied the mustang to a post. Then she ran around to the door and entered. +</p> + +<p> +What a welcome refuge! She was all right now, and when Glenn came along she +would have added to her already considerable list another feat for which he +would commend her. With aid of her handkerchief, and the tears that flowed so +copiously, Carley presently freed her eyes of the blinding dust. But when she +essayed to remove it from her face she discovered she would need a towel and +soap and hot water. +</p> + +<p> +The cabin appeared to be enveloped in a soft, swishing, hollow sound. It seeped +and rustled. Then the sound lulled, only to rise again. Carley went to the +door, relieved and glad to see that the duststorm was blowing by. The great +sky-high pall of yellow had moved on to the north. Puffs of dust were whipping +along the road, but no longer in one continuous cloud. In the west, low down +the sun was sinking, a dull magenta in hue, quite weird and remarkable. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew I’d get the jolt all right,” soliloquized Carley, +wearily, as she walked to a rude couch of poles and sat down upon it. She had +begun to cool off. And there, feeling dirty and tired, and slowly wearing to +the old depression, she composed herself to wait. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she heard the clip-clop of hoofs. “There! that’s +Glenn,” she cried, gladly, and rising, she ran to the door. +</p> + +<p> +She saw a big bay horse bearing a burly rider. He discovered her at the same +instant, and pulled his horse. +</p> + +<p> +“Ho! Ho! if it ain’t Pretty Eyes!” he called out, in gay, +coarse voice. +</p> + +<p> +Carley recognized the voice, and then the epithet, before her sight established +the man as Haze Ruff. A singular stultifying shock passed over her. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, by all thet’s lucky!” he said, dismounting. “I +knowed we’d meet some day. I can’t say I just laid fer you, but I +kept my eyes open.” +</p> + +<p> +Manifestly he knew she was alone, for he did not glance into the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m waiting for—Glenn,” she said, with lips she tried +to make stiff. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore I reckoned thet,” he replied, genially. “But he +won’t be along yet awhile.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with a cheerful inflection of tone, as if the fact designated was one +that would please her; and his swarthy, seamy face expanded into a +good-humored, meaning smile. Then without any particular rudeness he pushed her +back from the door, into the cabin, and stepped across the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“How dare—you!” cried Carley. A hot anger that stirred in her +seemed to be beaten down and smothered by a cold shaking internal commotion, +threatening collapse. This man loomed over her, huge, somehow monstrous in his +brawny uncouth presence. And his knowing smile, and the hard, glinting twinkle +of his light eyes, devilishly intelligent and keen, in no wise lessened the +sheer brutal force of him physically. Sight of his bulk was enough to terrorize +Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Me! Aw, I’m a darin’ <i>hombre</i> an’ a devil with +the wimmin,” he said, with a guffaw. +</p> + +<p> +Carley could not collect her wits. The instant of his pushing her back into the +cabin and following her had shocked her and almost paralyzed her will. If she +saw him now any the less fearful she could not so quickly rally her reason to +any advantage. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me out of here,” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope. I’m a-goin’ to make a little love to you,” he +said, and he reached for her with great hairy hands. +</p> + +<p> +Carley saw in them the strength that had so easily swung the sheep. She saw, +too, that they were dirty, greasy hands. And they made her flesh creep. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn will kill—you,” she panted. +</p> + +<p> +“What fer?” he queried, in real or pretended surprise. “Aw, I +know wimmin. You’ll never tell him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, mebbe. I reckon you’re lyin’, Pretty Eyes,” he +replied, with a grin. “Anyhow, I’ll take a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you—he’ll kill you,” repeated Carley, backing +away until her weak knees came against the couch. +</p> + +<p> +“What fer, I ask you?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“For this—this insult.” +</p> + +<p> +“Huh! I’d like to know who’s insulted you. Can’t a man +take an invitation to kiss an’ hug a girl—without insultin’ +her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Invitation!... Are you crazy?” queried Carley, bewildered. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope, I’m not crazy, an’ I shore said invitation.... I meant +thet white shimmy dress you wore the night of Flo’s party. Thet’s +my invitation to get a little fresh with you, Pretty Eyes!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley could only stare at him. His words seemed to have some peculiar, +unanswerable power. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, if it wasn’t an invitation, what was it?” he asked, +with another step that brought him within reach of her. He waited for her +answer, which was not forthcoming. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you’re gettin’ kinda pale around the gills,” he +went on, derisively. “I reckoned you was a real sport.... Come +here.” +</p> + +<p> +He fastened one of his great hands in the front of her coat and gave her a +pull. So powerful was it that Carley came hard against him, almost knocking her +breathless. There he held her a moment and then put his other arm round her. It +seemed to crush both breath and sense out of her. Suddenly limp, she sank +strengthless. She seemed reeling in darkness. Then she felt herself thrust away +from him with violence. She sank on the couch and her head and shoulders struck +the wall. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, if you’re a-goin’ to keel over like thet I pass,” +declared Ruff, in disgust. “Can’t you Eastern wimmin stand +nothin?” +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s eyes opened and beheld this man in an attitude of supremely +derisive protest. +</p> + +<p> +“You look like a sick kitten,” he added. “When I get me a +sweetheart or wife I want her to be a wild cat.” +</p> + +<p> +His scorn and repudiation of her gave Carley intense relief. She sat up and +endeavored to collect her shattered nerves. Ruff gazed down at her with great +disapproval and even disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, did you have some fool idee I was a-goin’ to kill you?” +he queried, gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid—I did,” faltered Carley. Her relief was a +release; it was so strange that it was gratefulness. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, I reckon I wouldn’t have hurt you. None of these flop-over +Janes for me!... An’ I’ll give you a hunch, Pretty Eyes. You might +have run acrost a fellar thet was no gentleman!” +</p> + +<p> +Of all the amazing statements that had ever been made to Carley, this one +seemed the most remarkable. +</p> + +<p> +“What’d you wear thet onnatural white dress fer?” he +demanded, as if he had a right to be her judge. +</p> + +<p> +“Unnatural?” echoed Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Shore. Thet’s what I said. Any woman’s dress without top or +bottom is onnatural. It’s not right. Why, you looked +like—like”—here he floundered for adequate +expression—“like one of the devil’s angels. An’ I want +to hear why you wore it.” +</p> + +<p> +“For the same reason I’d wear any dress,” she felt forced to +reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty Eyes, thet’s a lie. An’ you know it’s a lie. +You wore thet white dress to knock the daylights out of men. Only you +ain’t honest enough to say so.... Even me or my kind! Even us, +who’re dirt under your little feet. But all the same we’re men, +an’ mebbe better men than you think. If you had to put that dress on, why +didn’t you stay in your room? Naw, you had to come down an’ strut +around an’ show off your beauty. An’ I ask you—if +you’re a nice girl like Flo Hutter—what’d you wear it +fer?” +</p> + +<p> +Carley not only was mute; she felt rise and burn in her a singular shame and +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only a sheep dipper,” went on Ruff, “but I +ain’t no fool. A fellar doesn’t have to live East an’ wear +swell clothes to have sense. Mebbe you’ll learn thet the West is +bigger’n you think. A man’s a man East or West. But if your Eastern +men stand for such dresses as thet white one they’d do well to come out +West awhile, like your lover, Glenn Kilbourne. I’ve been rustlin’ +round here ten years, an’ I never before seen a dress like +yours—an’ I never heerd of a girl bein’ insulted, either. +Mebbe you think I insulted you. Wal, I didn’t. Fer I reckon +<i>nothin</i>’ could insult you in thet dress.... An’ my last hunch +is this, Pretty Eyes. You’re not what a <i>hombre</i> like me calls +either square or game. <i>Adios</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +His bulky figure darkened the doorway, passed out, and the light of the sky +streamed into the cabin again. Carley sat staring. She heard Ruff’s spurs +tinkle, then the ring of steel on stirrup, a sodden leathery sound as he +mounted, and after that a rapid pound of hoofs, quickly dying away. +</p> + +<p> +He was gone. She had escaped something raw and violent. Dazedly she realized +it, with unutterable relief. And she sat there slowly gathering the nervous +force that had been shattered. Every word that he had uttered was stamped in +startling characters upon her consciousness. But she was still under the +deadening influence of shock. This raw experience was the worst the West had +yet dealt her. It brought back former states of revulsion and formed them in +one whole irrefutable and damning judgment that seemed to blot out the vaguely +dawning and growing happy susceptibilities. It was, perhaps, just as well to +have her mind reverted to realistic fact. The presence of Haze Ruff, the +astounding truth of the contact with his huge sheep-defiled hands, had been +profanation and degradation under which she sickened with fear and shame. Yet +hovering back of her shame and rising anger seemed to be a pale, monstrous, and +indefinable thought, insistent and accusing, with which she must sooner or +later reckon. It might have been the voice of the new side of her nature, but +at that moment of outraged womanhood, and of revolt against the West, she would +not listen. It might, too, have been the still small voice of conscience. But +decision of mind and energy coming to her then, she threw off the burden of +emotion and perplexity, and forced herself into composure before the arrival of +Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +The dust had ceased to blow, although the wind had by no means died away. +Sunset marked the west in old rose and gold, a vast flare. Carley espied a +horseman far down the road, and presently recognized both rider and steed. He +was coming fast. She went out and, mounting her mustang, she rode out to meet +Glenn. It did not appeal to her to wait for him at the cabin; besides hoof +tracks other than those made by her mustang might have been noticed by Glenn. +Presently he came up to her and pulled his loping horse. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello! I sure was worried,” was his greeting, as his gloved hand +went out to her. “Did you run into that sandstorm?” +</p> + +<p> +“It ran into me, Glenn, and buried me,” she laughed. +</p> + +<p> +His fine eyes lingered on her face with glad and warm glance, and the keen, +apprehensive penetration of a lover. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, under all that dust you look scared,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Scared! I was worse than that. When I first ran into the flying dirt I +was only afraid I’d lose my way—and my complexion. But when the +worst of the storm hit me—then I feared I’d lose my breath.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you face that sand and ride through it all?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“No, not all. But enough. I went through the worst of it before I reached +the cabin,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t it great?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—great bother and annoyance,” she said, laconically. +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon he reached with long, arm and wrapped it round her as they rocked +side by side. Demonstrations of this nature were infrequent with Glenn. Despite +losing one foot out of a stirrup and her seat in the saddle Carley rather +encouraged it. He kissed her dusty face, and then set her back. +</p> + +<p> +“By George! Carley, sometimes I think you’ve changed since +you’ve been here,” he said, with warmth. “To go through that +sandstorm without one kick—one knock at my West!” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I always think of what Flo says—the worst is yet to +come,” replied Carley, trying to hide her unreasonable and tumultuous +pleasure at words of praise from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley Burch, you don’t know yourself,” he declared, +enigmatically. +</p> + +<p> +“What woman knows herself? But do you know me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not I. Yet sometimes I see depths in you—wonderful +possibilities—submerged under your poise—under your fixed, +complacent idle attitude toward life.” +</p> + +<p> +This seemed for Carley to be dangerously skating near thin ice, but she could +not resist a retort: +</p> + +<p> +“Depths in me? Why I am a shallow, transparent stream like your West +Fork! ... And as for possibilities—may I ask what of them you imagine you +see?” +</p> + +<p> +“As a girl, before you were claimed by the world, you were earnest at +heart. You had big hopes and dreams. And you had intellect, too. But you have +wasted your talents, Carley. Having money, and spending it, living for +pleasure, you have not realized your powers.... Now, don’t look hurt. +I’m not censuring you. It’s just the way of modern life. And most +of your friends have been more careless, thoughtless, useless than you. The aim +of their existence is to be comfortable, free from work, worry, pain. They want +pleasure, luxury. And what a pity it is! The best of you girls regard marriage +as an escape, instead of responsibility. You don’t marry to get your +shoulders square against the old wheel of American progress—to help some +man make good—to bring a troop of healthy American kids into the world. +You bare your shoulders to the gaze of the multitude and like it best if you +are strung with pearls.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, you distress me when you talk like this,” replied Carley, +soberly. “You did not use to talk so. It seems to me you are bitter +against women.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, Carley! I am only sad,” he said. “I only see where +once I was blind. American women are the finest on earth, but as a race, if +they don’t change, they’re doomed to extinction.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you say such things?” demanded Carley, with spirit. +</p> + +<p> +“I say them because they are true. Carley, on the level now, tell me how +many of your immediate friends have children.” +</p> + +<p> +Put to a test, Carley rapidly went over in mind her circle of friends, with the +result that she was somewhat shocked and amazed to realize how few of them were +even married, and how the babies of her acquaintance were limited to three. It +was not easy to admit this to Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” replied he, “if that does not show you the +handwriting on the wall, nothing ever will.” +</p> + +<p> +“A girl has to find a husband, doesn’t she?” asked Carley, +roused to defense of her sex. “And if she’s anybody she has to find +one in her set. Well, husbands are not plentiful. Marriage certainly is not the +end of existence these days. We have to get along somehow. The high cost of +living is no inconsderable factor today. Do you know that most of the +better-class apartment houses in New York will not take children? Women are not +all to blame. Take the speed mania. Men must have automobiles. I know one girl +who wanted a baby, but her husband wanted a car. They couldn’t afford +both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I’m not blaming women more than men,” returned +Glenn. “I don’t know that I blame them as a class. But in my own +mind I have worked it all out. Every man or woman who is genuinely American +should read the signs of the times, realize the crisis, and meet it in an +American way. Otherwise we are done as a race. Money is God in the older +countries. But it should never become God in America. If it does we will make +the fall of Rome pale into insignificance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, let’s put off the argument,” appealed Carley. +“I’m not—just up to fighting you today. Oh—you +needn’t smile. I’m not showing a yellow streak, as Flo puts it. +I’ll fight you some other time.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re right, Carley,” he assented. “Here we are +loafing six or seven miles from home. Let’s rustle along.” +</p> + +<p> +Riding fast with Glenn was something Carley had only of late added to her +achievements. She had greatest pride in it. So she urged her mustang to keep +pace with Glenn’s horse and gave herself up to the thrill of the motion +and feel of wind and sense of flying along. At a good swinging lope Calico +covered ground swiftly and did not tire. Carley rode the two miles to the rim +of the canyon, keeping alongside of Glenn all the way. Indeed, for one long +level stretch she and Glenn held hands. When they arrived at the descent, which +necessitated slow and careful riding, she was hot and tingling and breathless, +worked by the action into an exuberance of pleasure. Glenn complimented her +riding as well as her rosy cheeks. There was indeed a sweetness in working at a +task as she had worked to learn to ride in Western fashion. Every turn of her +mind seemed to confront her with sobering antitheses of thought. Why had she +come to love to ride down a lonely desert road, through ragged cedars where the +wind whipped her face with fragrant wild breath, if at the same time she hated +the West? Could she hate a country, however barren and rough, if it had saved +the health and happiness of her future husband? Verily there were problems for +Carley to solve. +</p> + +<p> +Early twilight purple lay low in the hollows and clefts of the canyon. Over the +western rim a pale ghost of the evening star seemed to smile at Carley, to bid +her look and look. Like a strain of distant music, the dreamy hum of falling +water, the murmur and melody of the stream, came again to Carley’s +sensitive ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you love this?” asked Glenn, when they reached the +green-forested canyon floor, with the yellow road winding away into the purple +shadows. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, both the ride—and you,” flashed Carley, contrarily. She +knew he had meant the deep-walled canyon with its brooding solitude. +</p> + +<p> +“But I want you to love Arizona,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I’m a faithful creature. You should be glad of that. I love +New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then. Arizona to New York,” he said, lightly brushing +her cheek with his lips. And swerving back into his saddle, he spurred his +horse and called back over his shoulder: “That mustang and Flo have +beaten me many a time. Come on.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley. Had he +resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity? Always there was a little +rift in the lute. Had his tone and look meant that Flo might catch him if +Carley could not? Absurd as the idea was, it spurred her to recklessness. Her +mustang did not need any more than to know she wanted him to run. The road was +of soft yellow earth flanked with green foliage and overspread by pines. In a +moment she was racing at a speed she had never before half attained on a horse. +Down the winding road Glenn’s big steed sped, his head low, his stride +tremendous, his action beautiful. But Carley saw the distance between them +diminishing. Calico was overtaking the bay. She cried out in the thrilling +excitement of the moment. Glenn saw her gaining and pressed his mount to +greater speed. Still he could not draw away from Calico. Slowly the little +mustang gained. It seemed to Carley that riding him required no effort at all. +And at such fast pace, with the wind roaring in her ears, the walls of green +vague and continuous in her sight, the sting of pine tips on cheek and neck, +the yellow road streaming toward her, under her, there rose out of the depths +of her, out of the tumult of her breast, a sense of glorious exultation. She +closed in on Glenn. From the flying hoofs of his horse shot up showers of damp +sand and gravel that covered Carley’s riding habit and spattered in her +face. She had to hold up a hand before her eyes. Perhaps this caused her to +lose something of her confidence, or her swing in the saddle, for suddenly she +realized she was not riding well. The pace was too fast for her inexperience. +But nothing could have stopped her then. No fear or awkwardness of hers should +be allowed to hamper that thoroughbred mustang. Carley felt that Calico +understood the situation; or at least he knew he could catch and pass this big +bay horse, and he intended to do it. Carley was hard put to it to hang on and +keep the flying sand from blinding her. +</p> + +<p> +When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to breast +with Glenn, and then inch by inch forged ahead of him, Carley pealed out an +exultant cry. Either it frightened Calico or inspired him, for he shot right +ahead of Glenn’s horse. Then he lost the smooth, wonderful action. He +seemed hurtling through space at the expense of tremendous muscular action. +Carley could feel it. She lost her equilibrium. She seemed rushing through a +blurred green and black aisle of the forest with a gale in her face. Then, with +a sharp jolt, a break, Calico plunged to the sand. Carley felt herself +propelled forward out of the saddle into the air, and down to strike with a +sliding, stunning force that ended in sudden dark oblivion. +</p> + +<p> +Upon recovering consciousness she first felt a sensation of oppression in her +chest and a dull numbness of her whole body. When she opened her eyes she saw +Glenn bending over her, holding her head on his knee. A wet, cold, reviving +sensation evidently came from the handkerchief with which he was mopping her +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you can’t be hurt—really!” he was ejaculating, +in eager hope. “It was some spill. But you lit on the sand and slid. You +can’t be hurt.” +</p> + +<p> +The look of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the feel of his hands were such +that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly hurt indeed. It was +worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn Kilbourne. But she believed she +had suffered no more than a severe bruising and scraping. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn—dear,” she whispered, very low and very eloquently. +“I think—my back—is broken.... You’ll be +free—soon.” +</p> + +<p> +Glenn gave a terrible start and his face turned a deathly white. He burst out +with quavering, inarticulate speech. +</p> + +<p> +Carley gazed up at him and then closed her eyes. She could not look at him +while carrying on such deceit. Yet the sight of him and the feel of him then +were inexpressibly blissful to her. What she needed most was assurance of his +love. She had it. Beyond doubt, beyond morbid fancy, the truth had proclaimed +itself, filling her heart with joy. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she flung her arms up around his neck. “Oh—Glenn! It was +too good a chance to miss!... I’m not hurt a bit.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"></a> +CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p> +The day came when Carley asked Mrs. Hutter: “Will you please put up a +nice lunch for Glenn and me? I’m going to walk down to his farm where +he’s working, and surprise him.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a downright fine idea,” declared Mrs. Hutter, and +forthwith bustled away to comply with Carley’s request. +</p> + +<p> +So presently Carley found herself carrying a bountiful basket on her arm, +faring forth on an adventure that both thrilled and depressed her. Long before +this hour something about Glenn’s work had quickened her pulse and given +rise to an inexplicable admiration. That he was big and strong enough to do +such labor made her proud; that he might want to go on doing it made her ponder +and brood. +</p> + +<p> +The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June, when the air +appeared flooded by rich thick amber light. Only the sun here was hotter and +the shade cooler. +</p> + +<p> +Carley took to the trail below where West Fork emptied its golden-green waters +into Oak Creek. The red walls seemed to dream and wait under the blaze of the +sun; the heat lay like a blanket over the still foliage; the birds were quiet; +only the murmuring stream broke the silence of the canyon. Never had Carley +felt more the isolation and solitude of Oak Creek Canyon. Far indeed from the +madding crowd! Only Carley’s stubbornness kept her from acknowledging the +sense of peace that enveloped her—that and the consciousness of her own +discontent. What would it be like to come to this canyon—to give up to +its enchantments? That, like many another disturbing thought, had to go +unanswered, to be driven into the closed chambers of Carley’s mind, there +to germinate subconsciously, and stalk forth some day to overwhelm her. +</p> + +<p> +The trail led along the creek, threading a maze of bowlders, passing into the +shade of cottonwoods, and crossing sun-flecked patches of sand. Carley’s +every step seemed to become slower. Regrets were assailing her. Long indeed had +she overstayed her visit to the West. She must not linger there indefinitely. +And mingled with misgiving was a surprise that she had not tired of Oak Creek. +In spite of all, and of the dislike she vaunted to herself, the truth stared at +her—she was not tired. +</p> + +<p> +The long-delayed visit to see Glenn working on his own farm must result in her +talking to him about his work; and in a way not quite clear she regretted the +necessity for it. To disapprove of Glenn! She received faint intimations of +wavering, of uncertainty, of vague doubt. But these were cried down by the +dominant and habitable voice of her personality. +</p> + +<p> +Presently through the shaded and shadowed breadth of the belt of forest she saw +gleams of a sunlit clearing. And crossing this space to the border of trees she +peered forth, hoping to espy Glenn at his labors. She saw an old shack, and +irregular lines of rude fence built of poles of all sizes and shapes, and +several plots of bare yellow ground, leading up toward the west side of the +canyon wall. Could this clearing be Glenn’s farm? Surely she had missed +it or had not gone far enough. This was not a farm, but a slash in the forested +level of the canyon floor, bare and somehow hideous. Dead trees were standing +in the lots. They had been ringed deeply at the base by an ax, to kill them, +and so prevent their foliage from shading the soil. Carley saw a long pile of +rocks that evidently had been carried from the plowed ground. There was no +neatness, no regularity, although there was abundant evidence of toil. To clear +that rugged space, to fence it, and plow it, appeared at once to Carley an +extremely strenuous and useless task. Carley persuaded herself that this must +be the plot of ground belonging to the herder Charley, and she was about to +turn on down the creek when far up under the bluff she espied a man. He was +stalking along and bending down, stalking along and bending down. She +recognized Glenn. He was planting something in the yellow soil. +</p> + +<p> +Curiously Carley watched him, and did not allow her mind to become concerned +with a somewhat painful swell of her heart. What a stride he had! How vigorous +he looked, and earnest! He was as intent upon this job as if he had been a +rustic. He might have been failing to do it well, but he most certainly was +doing it conscientiously. Once he had said to her that a man should never be +judged by the result of his labors, but by the nature of his effort. A man +might strive with all his heart and strength, yet fail. Carley watched him +striding along and bending down, absorbed in his task, unmindful of the glaring +hot sun, and somehow to her singularly detached from the life wherein he had +once moved and to which she yearned to take him back. Suddenly an unaccountable +flashing query assailed her conscience: How dare she want to take him back? She +seemed as shocked as if some stranger had accosted her. What was this dimming +of her eye, this inward tremulousness; this dammed tide beating at an unknown +and riveted gate of her intelligence? She felt more then than she dared to +face. She struggled against something in herself. The old habit of mind +instinctively resisted the new, the strange. But she did not come off wholly +victorious. The Carley Burch whom she recognized as of old, passionately hated +this life and work of Glenn Kilbourne’s, but the rebel self, an +unaccountable and defiant Carley, loved him all the better for them. +</p> + +<p> +Carley drew a long deep breath before she called Glenn. This meeting would be +momentous and she felt no absolute surety of herself. +</p> + +<p> +Manifestly he was surprised to hear her call, and, dropping his sack and +implement, he hurried across the tilled ground, sending up puffs of dust. He +vaulted the rude fence of poles, and upon sight of her called out lustily. How +big and virile he looked! Yet he was gaunt and strained. It struck Carley that +he had not looked so upon her arrival at Oak Creek. Had she worried him? The +query gave her a pang. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Tiller of the Fields,” said Carley, gayly, “see, your +dinner! <i>I</i> brought it and <i>I</i> am going to share it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You old darling!” he replied, and gave her an embrace that left +her cheek moist with the sweat of his. He smelled of dust and earth and his +body was hot. “I wish to God it could be true for always!” +</p> + +<p> +His loving, bearish onslaught and his words quite silenced Carley. How at +critical moments he always said the thing that hurt her or inhibited her! She +essayed a smile as she drew back from him. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s sure good of you,” he said, taking the basket. “I +was thinking I’d be through work sooner today, and was sorry I had not +made a date with you. Come, we’ll find a place to sit.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon he led her back under the trees to a half-sunny, half-shady bench of +rock overhanging the stream. Great pines overshadowed a still, eddying pool. A +number of brown butterflies hovered over the water, and small trout floated +like spotted feathers just under the surface. Drowsy summer enfolded the sylvan +scene. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn knelt at the edge of the brook, and, plunging his hands in, he splashed +like a huge dog and bathed his hot face and head, and then turned to Carley +with gay words and laughter, while he wiped himself dry with a large red scarf. +Carley was not proof against the virility of him then, and at the moment, no +matter what it was that had made him the man he looked, she loved it. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll sit in the sun,” he said, designating a place. +“When you’re hot you mustn’t rest in the shade, unless +you’ve coat or sweater. But you sit here in the shade.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, that’ll put us too far apart,” complained Carley. +“I’ll sit in the sun with you.” +</p> + +<p> +The delightful simplicity and happiness of the ensuing hour was something +Carley believed she would never forget. +</p> + +<p> +“There! we’ve licked the platter clean,” she said. +“What starved bears we were!.... I wonder if I shall enjoy +eating—when I get home. I used to be so finnicky and picky.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, don’t talk about home,” said Glenn, appealingly. +</p> + +<p> +“You dear old farmer, I’d love to stay here and just +dream—forever,” replied Carley, earnestly. “But I came on +purpose to talk seriously.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you did! About what?” he returned, with some quick, +indefinable change of tone and expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, first about your work. I know I hurt your feelings when I +wouldn’t listen. But I wasn’t ready. I wanted to—to just be +gay with you for a while. Don’t think I wasn’t interested. I was. +And now, I’m ready to hear all about it—and everything.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled at him bravely, and she knew that unless some unforeseen shock upset +her composure, she would be able to conceal from him anything which might hurt +his feelings. +</p> + +<p> +“You do look serious,” he said, with keen eyes on her. +</p> + +<p> +“Just what are your business relations with Hutter?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m simply working for him,” replied Glenn. “My aim is +to get an interest in his sheep, and I expect to, some day. We have some plans. +And one of them is the development of that Deep Lake section. You +remember—you were with us. The day Spillbeans spilled you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I remember. It was a pretty place,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +Carley did not tell him that for a month past she had owned the Deep Lake +section of six hundred and forty acres. She had, in fact, instructed Hutter to +purchase it, and to keep the transaction a secret for the present. Carley had +never been able to understand the impulse that prompted her to do it. But as +Hutter had assured her it was a remarkably good investment on very little +capital, she had tried to persuade herself of its advantages. Back of it all +had been an irresistible desire to be able some day to present to Glenn this +ranch site he loved. She had concluded he would never wholly dissociate himself +from this West; and as he would visit it now and then, she had already begun +forming plans of her own. She could stand a month in Arizona at long intervals. +</p> + +<p> +“Hutter and I will go into cattle raising some day,” went on Glenn. +“And that Deep Lake place is what I want for myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“What work are you doing for Hutter?” asked Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything from building fence to cutting timber,” laughed Glenn. +“I’ve not yet the experience to be a foreman like Lee Stanton. +Besides, I have a little business all my own. I put all my money in +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean here—this—this farm?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And the stock I’m raisin’. You see I have to feed corn. +And believe me, Carley, those cornfields represent some job.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can well believe that,” replied Carley. “You—you +looked it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the hard work is over. All I have to do now it to plant and keep the +weeds out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, do sheep eat corn?” +</p> + +<p> +“I plant corn to feed my hogs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hogs?” she echoed, vaguely. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, hogs,” he said, with quiet gravity. “The first day you +visited my cabin I told you I raised hogs, and I fried my own ham for your +dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that what you—put your money in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And Hutter says I’ve done well.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Hogs!</i>” ejaculated Carley, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, are you growin’ dull of comprehension?” retorted +Glenn. “H-o-g-s.” He spelled the word out. “I’m in the +hog-raising business, and pretty blamed well pleased over my success so +far.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley caught herself in time to quell outwardly a shock of amaze and +revulsion. She laughed, and exclaimed against her stupidity. The look of Glenn +was no less astounding than the content of his words. He was actually proud of +his work. Moreover, he showed not the least sign that he had any idea such +information might be startlingly obnoxious to his fiancée. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn! It’s so—so queer,” she ejaculated. “That +you—Glenn Kilbourne-should ever go in for—for hogs!... It’s +unbelievable. How’d you ever—ever happen to do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“By Heaven! you’re hard on me!” he burst out, in sudden dark, +fierce passion. “How’d I ever happen to do it?... <i>What</i> was +there left for me? I gave my soul and heart and body to the government—to +fight for my country. I came home a wreck. <i>What</i> did my government do for +me? <i>What</i> did my employers do for me? <i>What</i> did the people I fought +for do for me?... Nothing—so help me God—<i>nothing!</i>... I got a +ribbon and a bouquet—a little applause for an hour—and then the +sight of me sickened my countrymen. I was broken and used. I was absolutely +forgotten.... But my body, my life, my soul meant <i>all</i> to me. My future +was ruined, but I wanted to live. I had killed men who never harmed me—I +was not fit to die.... I <i>tried</i> to live. So I fought out my battle alone. +Alone!... No one understood. No one cared. I came West to keep from dying of +consumption in sight of the indifferent mob for whom I had sacrificed myself. I +chose to die on my feet away off alone somewhere.... But I got well. And what +<i>made</i> me well—and <i>saved</i> my soul—was the first work +that offered. <i>Raising and tending hogs!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The dead whiteness of Glenn’s face, the lightning scorn of his eyes, the +grim, stark strangeness of him then had for Carley a terrible harmony with this +passionate denunciation of her, of her kind, of the America for whom he had +lost all. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Glenn!—forgive—me!” she faltered. “I was +only—talking. What do I know? Oh, I am blind—blind and +little!” +</p> + +<p> +She could not bear to face him for a moment, and she hung her head. Her +intelligence seemed concentrating swift, wild thoughts round the shock to her +consciousness. By that terrible expression of his face, by those thundering +words of scorn, would she come to realize the mighty truth of his descent into +the abyss and his rise to the heights. Vaguely she began to see. An awful sense +of her deadness, of her soul-blighting selfishness, began to dawn upon her as +something monstrous out of dim, gray obscurity. She trembled under the reality +of thoughts that were not new. How she had babbled about Glenn and the crippled +soldiers! How she had imagined she sympathized! But she had only been a vain, +worldly, complacent, effusive little fool. She had here the shock of her life, +and she sensed a greater one, impossible to grasp. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, that was coming to you,” said Glenn, presently, with deep, +heavy expulsion of breath. +</p> + +<p> +“I only know I love you—more—more,” she cried, wildly, +looking up and wanting desperately to throw herself in his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess you do—a little,” he replied. “Sometimes I +feel you are a kid. Then again you represent the world—your world with +its age-old custom—its unalterable.... But, Carley, let’s get back +to my work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes,” exclaimed Carley, gladly. “I’m ready +to—to go pet your hogs—anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“By George! I’ll take you up,” he declared. “I’ll +bet you won’t go near one of my hogpens.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lead me to it!” she replied, with a hilarity that was only a +nervous reversion of her state. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, maybe I’d better hedge on the bet,” he said, laughing +again. “You have more in you than I suspect. You sure fooled me when you +stood for the sheep-dip. But, come on, I’ll take you anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +So that was how Carley found herself walking arm in arm with Glenn down the +canyon trail. A few moments of action gave her at least an appearance of +outward composure. And the state of her emotion was so strained and intense +that her slightest show of interest must deceive Glenn into thinking her eager, +responsive, enthusiastic. It certainly appeared to loosen his tongue. But +Carley knew she was farther from normal than ever before in her life, and that +the subtle, inscrutable woman’s intuition of her presaged another shock. +Just as she had seemed to change, so had the aspects of the canyon undergone +some illusive transformation. The beauty of green foliage and amber stream and +brown tree trunks and gray rocks and red walls was there; and the summer +drowsiness and languor lay as deep; and the loneliness and solitude brooded +with its same eternal significance. But some nameless enchantment, perhaps of +hope, seemed no longer to encompass her. A blow had fallen upon her, the nature +of which only time could divulge. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn led her around the clearing and up to the base of the west wall, where +against a shelving portion of the cliff had been constructed a rude fence of +poles. It formed three sides of a pen, and the fourth side was solid rock. A +bushy cedar tree stood in the center. Water flowed from under the cliff, which +accounted for the boggy condition of the red earth. This pen was occupied by a +huge sow and a litter of pigs. +</p> + +<p> +Carley climbed on the fence and sat there while Glenn leaned over the top pole +and began to wax eloquent on a subject evidently dear to his heart. Today of +all days Carley made an inspiring listener. Even the shiny, muddy, suspicious +old sow in no wise daunted her fictitious courage. That filthy pen of mud a +foot deep, and of odor rancid, had no terrors for her. With an arm round +Glenn’s shoulder she watched the rooting and squealing little pigs, and +was amused and interested, as if they were far removed from the vital issue of +the hour. But all the time as she looked and laughed, and encouraged Glenn to +talk, there seemed to be a strange, solemn, oppressive knocking at her heart. +Was it only the beat-beat-beat of blood? +</p> + +<p> +“There were twelve pigs in that litter,” Glenn was saying, +“and now you see there are only nine. I’ve lost three. Mountain +lions, bears, coyotes, wild cats are all likely to steal a pig. And at first I +was sure one of these varmints had been robbing me. But as I could not find any +tracks, I knew I had to lay the blame on something else. So I kept watch pretty +closely in daytime, and at night I shut the pigs up in the corner there, where +you see I’ve built a pen. Yesterday I heard squealing—and, by +George! I saw an eagle flying off with one of my pigs. Say, I was mad. A great +old bald-headed eagle—the regal bird you see with America’s stars +and stripes had degraded himself to the level of a coyote. I ran for my rifle, +and I took some quick shots at him as he flew up. Tried to hit him, too, but I +failed. And the old rascal hung on to my pig. I watched him carry it to that +sharp crag way up there on the rim.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little piggy!” exclaimed Carley. “To think of our +American emblem—our stately bird of noble warlike mien—our symbol +of lonely grandeur and freedom of the heights—think of him being a robber +of pigpens!—Glenn, I begin to appreciate the many-sidedness of things. +Even my hide-bound narrowness is susceptible to change. It’s never too +late to learn. This should apply to the Society for the Preservation of the +American Eagle.” +</p> + +<p> +Glenn led her along the base of the wall to three other pens, in each of which +was a fat old sow with a litter. And at the last enclosure, that owing to dry +soil was not so dirty, Glenn picked up a little pig and held it squealing out +to Carley as she leaned over the fence. It was fairly white and clean, a little +pink and fuzzy, and certainly cute with its curled tall. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley Burch, take it in your hands,” commanded Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +The feat seemed monstrous and impossible of accomplishment for Carley. Yet such +was her temper at the moment that she would have undertaken anything. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, shore I will, as Flo says,” replied Carley, extending her +ungloved hands. “Come here, piggy. I christen you Pinky.” And +hiding an almost insupportable squeamishness from Glenn, she took the pig in +her hands and fondled it. +</p> + +<p> +“By George!” exclaimed Glenn, in huge delight. “I +wouldn’t have believed it. Carley, I hope you tell your fastidious and +immaculate Morrison that you held one of my pigs in your beautiful +hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t it please you more to tell him yourself?” asked +Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it would,” declared Glenn, grimly. +</p> + +<p> +This incident inspired Glenn to a Homeric narration of his hog-raising +experience. In spite of herself the content of his talk interested her. And as +for the effect upon her of his singular enthusiasm, it was deep and compelling. +The little-boned Berkshire razorback hogs grew so large and fat and heavy that +their bones broke under their weight. The Duroc jerseys were the best breed in +that latitude, owing to their larger and stronger bones, that enabled them to +stand up under the greatest accumulation of fat. +</p> + +<p> +Glenn told of his droves of pigs running wild in the canyon below. In +summertime they fed upon vegetation, and at other seasons on acorns, roots, +bugs, and grubs. Acorns, particularly, were good and fattening feed. They ate +cedar and juniper berries, and pinyon nuts. And therefore they lived off the +land, at little or no expense to the owner. The only loss was from beasts and +birds of prey. Glenn showed Carley how a profitable business could soon be +established. He meant to fence off side canyons and to segregate droves of his +hogs, and to raise abundance of corn for winter feed. At that time there was a +splendid market for hogs, a condition Hutter claimed would continue +indefinitely in a growing country. In conclusion Glenn eloquently told how in +his necessity he had accepted gratefully the humblest of labors, to find in the +hard pursuit of it a rejuvenation of body and mind, and a promise of +independence and prosperity. +</p> + +<p> +When he had finished, and excused himself to go repair a weak place in the +corral fence, Carley sat silent, wrapped in strange meditation. +</p> + +<p> +Whither had faded the vulgarity and ignominy she had attached to Glenn’s +raising of hogs? Gone—like other miasmas of her narrow mind! Partly she +understood him now. She shirked consideration of his sacrifice to his country. +That must wait. But she thought of his work, and the more she thought the less +she wondered. +</p> + +<p> +First he had labored with his hands. What infinite meaning lay unfolding to her +vision! Somewhere out of it all came the conception that man was intended to +earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. But there was more to it than that. By +that toil and sweat, by the friction of horny palms, by the expansion and +contraction of muscle, by the acceleration of blood, something great and +enduring, something physical and spiritual, came to a man. She understood then +why she would have wanted to surrender herself to a man made manly by toil; she +understood how a woman instinctively leaned toward the protection of a man who +had used his hands—who had strength and red blood and virility who could +fight like the progenitors of the race. Any toil was splendid that served this +end for any man. It all went back to the survival of the fittest. And suddenly +Carley thought of Morrison. He could dance and dangle attendance upon her, and +amuse her—but how would he have acquitted himself in a moment of peril? +She had her doubts. Most assuredly he could not have beaten down for her a +ruffian like Haze Ruff. What then should be the significance of a man for a +woman? +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s querying and answering mind reverted to Glenn. He had found a +secret in this seeking for something through the labor of hands. All +development of body must come through exercise of muscles. The virility of cell +in tissue and bone depended upon that. Thus he had found in toil the pleasure +and reward athletes had in their desultory training. But when a man learned +this secret the need of work must become permanent. Did this explain the law of +the Persians that every man was required to sweat every day? +</p> + +<p> +Carley tried to picture to herself Glenn’s attitude of mind when he had +first gone to work here in the West. Resolutely she now denied her shrinking, +cowardly sensitiveness. She would go to the root of this matter, if she had +intelligence enough. Crippled, ruined in health, wrecked and broken by an +inexplicable war, soul-blighted by the heartless, callous neglect of government +and public, on the verge of madness at the insupportable facts, he had yet been +wonderful enough, true enough to himself and God, to fight for life with the +instinct of a man, to fight for his mind with a noble and unquenchable faith. +Alone indeed he had been alone! And by some miracle beyond the power of +understanding he had found day by day in his painful efforts some hope and +strength to go on. He could not have had any illusions. For Glenn Kilbourne the +health and happiness and success most men held so dear must have seemed +impossible. His slow, daily, tragic, and terrible task must have been something +he owed himself. Not for Carley Burch! She like all the others had failed him. +How Carley shuddered in confession of that! Not for the country which had used +him and cast him off! Carley divined now, as if by a flash of lightning, the +meaning of Glenn’s strange, cold, scornful, and aloof manner when he had +encountered young men of his station, as capable and as strong as he, who had +escaped the service of the army. For him these men did not exist. They were +less than nothing. They had waxed fat on lucrative jobs; they had basked in the +presence of girls whose brothers and lovers were in the trenches or on the +turbulent sea, exposed to the ceaseless dread and almost ceaseless toil of war. +If Glenn’s spirit had lifted him to endurance of war for the sake of +others, how then could it fail him in a precious duty of fidelity to himself? +Carley could see him day by day toiling in his lonely canyon—plodding to +his lonely cabin. He had been playing the game—fighting it out alone as +surely he knew his brothers of like misfortune were fighting. +</p> + +<p> +So Glenn Kilbourne loomed heroically in Carley’s transfigured sight. He +was one of Carlyle’s battle-scarred warriors. Out of his travail he had +climbed on stepping-stones of his dead self. <i>Resurgam!</i> That had been his +unquenchable cry. Who had heard it? Only the solitude of his lonely canyon, +only the waiting, dreaming, watching walls, only the silent midnight shadows, +only the white, blinking, passionless stars, only the wild creatures of his +haunts, only the moaning wind in the pines—only these had been with him +in his agony. How near were these things to God? +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s heart seemed full to bursting. Not another single moment could +her mounting love abide in a heart that held a double purpose. How bitter the +assurance that she had not come West to help him! It was self, self, all self +that had actuated her. Unworthy indeed was she of the love of this man. Only a +lifetime of devotion to him could acquit her in the eyes of her better self. +Sweetly and madly raced the thrill and tumult of her blood. There must be only +one outcome to her romance. Yet the next instant there came a dull +throbbing—an oppression which was pain—an impondering vague thought +of catastrophe. Only the fearfulness of love perhaps! +</p> + +<p> +She saw him complete his task and wipe his brown moist face and stride toward +her, coming nearer, tall and erect with something added to his soldierly +bearing, with a light in his eyes she could no longer bear. +</p> + +<p> +The moment for which she had waited more than two months had come at last. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn—when will you go back East?” she asked, tensely and +low. +</p> + +<p> +The instant the words were spent upon her lips she realized that he had always +been waiting and prepared for this question that had been so terrible for her +to ask. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley,” he replied gently, though his voice rang, “I am +never going back East.” +</p> + +<p> +An inward quivering hindered her articulation. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Never?</i>” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Never to live, or stay any while,” he went on. “I might go +some time for a little visit.... But never to live.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh—Glenn!” she gasped, and her hands fluttered out to him. +The shock was driving home. No amaze, no incredulity succeeded her reception of +the fact. It was a slow stab. Carley felt the cold blanch of her skin. +“Then—this is it—the something I felt strange between +us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I knew—and you never asked me,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“That was it? All the time you knew,” she whispered, huskily. +“You knew. ... <i>I’d never—marry you—never live out +here?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Carley, I knew you’d never be woman enough—<i>American +enough</i>—to help me reconstruct my broken life out here in the +West,” he replied, with a sad and bitter smile. +</p> + +<p> +That flayed her. An insupportable shame and wounded vanity and clamoring love +contended for dominance of her emotions. Love beat down all else. +</p> + +<p> +“Dearest—I beg of you—don’t break my heart,” she +implored. +</p> + +<p> +“I love you, Carley,” he answered, steadily, with piercing eyes on +hers. +</p> + +<p> +“Then come back—home—home with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. If you love me you will be my wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“Love you! Glenn, I worship you,” she broke out, passionately. +“But I could not live here—<i>I could not</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, did you ever read of the woman who said, ‘Whither thou +goest, there will I go’...” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t be ruthless! Don’t judge me.... I never dreamed of +this. I came West to take you back.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, it was a mistake,” he said, gently, softening to her +distress. “I’m sorry I did not write you more plainly. But, Carley, +I could not ask you to share this—this wilderness home with me. I +don’t ask it now. I always knew you couldn’t do it. Yet +you’ve changed so—that I hoped against hope. Love makes us blind +even to what we see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t try to spare me. I’m slight and miserable. I stand +abased in my own eyes. I thought I loved you. But I must love best the +crowd—people—luxury—fashion—the damned round of things +I was born to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you will realize their insufficiency too late,” he +replied, earnestly. “The things you were born to are love, work, +children, happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t! don’t!... they are hollow mockery for me,” she +cried, passionately. “Glenn, it is the end. It must +come—quickly.... You are free.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not ask to be free. Wait. Go home and look at it again with +different eyes. Think things over. Remember what came to me out of the West. I +will always love you—and I will be here—hoping—” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I cannot listen,” she returned, brokenly, and she clenched +her hands tightly to keep from wringing them. “I—I cannot face +you.... Here is—your ring.... You—are—free.... Don’t +stop me—don’t come.... Oh, Glenn, good-by!” +</p> + +<p> +With breaking heart she whirled away from him and hurried down the slope toward +the trail. The shade of the forest enveloped her. Peering back through the +trees, she saw Glenn standing where she had left him, as if already stricken by +the loneliness that must be his lot. A sob broke from Carley’s throat. +She hated herself. She was in a terrible state of conflict. Decision had been +wrenched from her, but she sensed unending strife. She dared not look back +again. Stumbling and breathless, she hurried on. How changed the atmosphere and +sunlight and shadow of the canyon! The looming walls had pitiless eyes for her +flight. When she crossed the mouth of West Fork an almost irresistible force +breathed to her from under the stately pines. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later she had bidden farewell to the weeping Mrs. Hutter, and to the +white-faced Flo, and Lolomi Lodge, and the murmuring waterfall, and the +haunting loneliness of Oak Creek Canyon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"></a> +CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p> +At Flagstaff, where Carley arrived a few minutes before train time, she was too +busily engaged with tickets and baggage to think of herself or of the +significance of leaving Arizona. But as she walked into the Pullman she +overheard a passenger remark, “Regular old Arizona sunset,” and +that shook her heart. Suddenly she realized she had come to love the colorful +sunsets, to watch and wait for them. And bitterly she thought how that was her +way to learn the value of something when it was gone. +</p> + +<p> +The jerk and start of the train affected her with singular depressing shock. +She had burned her last bridge behind her. Had she unconsciously hoped for some +incredible reversion of Glenn’s mind or of her own? A sense of +irreparable loss flooded over her—the first check to shame and +humiliation. +</p> + +<p> +From her window she looked out to the southwest. Somewhere across the cedar and +pine-greened uplands lay Oak Creek Canyon, going to sleep in its purple and +gold shadows of sunset. Banks of broken clouds hung to the horizon, like +continents and islands and reefs set in a turquoise sea. Shafts of sunlight +streaked down through creamy-edged and purple-centered clouds. Vast flare of +gold dominated the sunset background. +</p> + +<p> +When the train rounded a curve Carley’s strained vision became filled +with the upheaved bulk of the San Francisco Mountains. Ragged gray grass slopes +and green forests on end, and black fringed sky lines, all pointed to the sharp +clear peaks spearing the sky. And as she watched, the peaks slowly flushed with +sunset hues, and the sky flared golden, and the strength of the eternal +mountains stood out in sculptured sublimity. Every day for two months and more +Carley had watched these peaks, at all hours, in every mood; and they had +unconsciously become a part of her thought. The train was relentlessly whirling +her eastward. Soon they must become a memory. Tears blurred her sight. Poignant +regret seemed added to the anguish she was suffering. Why had she not learned +sooner to see the glory of the mountains, to appreciate the beauty and +solitude? Why had she not understood herself? +</p> + +<p> +The next day through New Mexico she followed magnificent ranges and +valleys—so different from the country she had seen coming West—so +supremely beautiful that she wondered if she had only acquired the harvest of a +seeing eye. +</p> + +<p> +But it was at sunset of the following day, when the train was speeding down the +continental slope of prairie land beyond the Rockies, that the West took its +ruthless revenge. +</p> + +<p> +Masses of strange cloud and singular light upon the green prairie, and a +luminosity in the sky, drew Carley to the platform of her car, which was the +last of the train. There she stood, gripping the iron gate, feeling the wind +whip her hair and the iron-tracked ground speed from under her, spellbound and +stricken at the sheer wonder and glory of the firmament, and the mountain range +that it canopied so exquisitely. +</p> + +<p> +A rich and mellow light, singularly clear, seemed to flood out of some unknown +source. For the sun was hidden. The clouds just above Carley hung low, and they +were like thick, heavy smoke, mushrooming, coalescing, forming and massing, of +strange yellow cast of nature. It shaded westward into heliotrope and this into +a purple so royal, so matchless and rare that Carley understood why the purple +of the heavens could never be reproduced in paint. Here the cloud mass thinned +and paled, and a tint of rose began to flush the billowy, flowery, creamy +white. Then came the surpassing splendor of this cloud pageant—a vast +canopy of shell pink, a sun-fired surface like an opal sea, rippled and webbed, +with the exquisite texture of an Oriental fabric, pure, delicate, +lovely—as no work of human hands could be. It mirrored all the warm, +pearly tints of the inside whorl of the tropic nautilus. And it ended abruptly, +a rounded depth of bank, on a broad stream of clear sky, intensely blue, +transparently blue, as if through the lambent depths shone the infinite +firmament. The lower edge of this stream took the golden lightning of the +sunset and was notched for all its horizon-long length by the wondrous white +glistening-peaked range of the Rockies. Far to the north, standing aloof from +the range, loomed up the grand black bulk and noble white dome of Pikes Peak. +</p> + +<p> +Carley watched the sunset transfiguration of cloud and sky and mountain until +all were cold and gray. And then she returned to her seat, thoughtful and sad, +feeling that the West had mockingly flung at her one of its transient moments +of loveliness. +</p> + +<p> +Nor had the West wholly finished with her. Next day the mellow gold of the +Kansas wheat fields, endless and boundless as a sunny sea, rich, waving in the +wind, stretched away before her aching eyes for hours and hours. Here was the +promise fulfilled, the bountiful harvest of the land, the strength of the West. +The great middle state had a heart of gold. +</p> + +<p> +East of Chicago Carley began to feel that the long days and nights of riding, +the ceaseless turning of the wheels, the constant and wearing stress of +emotion, had removed her an immeasurable distance of miles and time and feeling +from the scene of her catastrophe. Many days seemed to have passed. Many had +been the hours of her bitter regret and anguish. +</p> + +<p> +Indiana and Ohio, with their green pastoral farms, and numberless villages, and +thriving cities, denoted a country far removed and different from the West, and +an approach to the populous East. Carley felt like a wanderer coming home. She +was restlessly and impatiently glad. But her weariness of body and mind, and +the close atmosphere of the car, rendered her extreme discomfort. Summer had +laid its hot hand on the low country east of the Mississippi. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had wired her aunt and two of her intimate friends to meet her at the +Grand Central Station. This reunion soon to come affected Carley in recurrent +emotions of relief, gladness, and shame. She did not sleep well, and arose +early, and when the train reached Albany she felt that she could hardly endure +the tedious hours. The majestic Hudson and the palatial mansions on the wooded +bluffs proclaimed to Carley that she was back in the East. How long a time +seemed to have passed! Either she was not the same or the aspect of everything +had changed. But she believed that as soon as she got over the ordeal of +meeting her friends, and was home again, she would soon see things rationally. +</p> + +<p> +At last the train sheered away from the broad Hudson and entered the environs +of New York. Carley sat perfectly still, to all outward appearances a calm, +superbly-poised New York woman returning home, but inwardly raging with +contending tides. In her own sight she was a disgraceful failure, a prodigal +sneaking back to the ease and protection of loyal friends who did not know her +truly. Every familiar landmark in the approach to the city gave her a thrill, +yet a vague unsatisfied something lingered after each sensation. +</p> + +<p> +Then the train with rush and roar crossed the Harlem River to enter New York +City. As one waking from a dream Carley saw the blocks and squares of gray +apartment houses and red buildings, the miles of roofs and chimneys, the long +hot glaring streets full of playing children and cars. Then above the roar of +the train sounded the high notes of a hurdy-gurdy. Indeed she was home. Next to +startle her was the dark tunnel, and then the slowing of the train to a stop. +As she walked behind a porter up the long incline toward the station gate her +legs seemed to be dead. +</p> + +<p> +In the circle of expectant faces beyond the gate she saw her aunt’s, +eager and agitated, then the handsome pale face of Eleanor Harmon, and beside +her the sweet thin one of Beatrice Lovell. As they saw her how quick the change +from expectancy to joy! It seemed they all rushed upon her, and embraced her, +and exclaimed over her together. Carley never recalled what she said. But her +heart was full. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, how perfectly stunning you look!” cried Eleanor, backing away +from Carley and gazing with glad, surprised eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley!” gasped Beatrice. “You wonderful golden-skinned +goddess!... You’re <i>young</i> again, like you were in our school +days.” +</p> + +<p> +It was before Aunt Mary’s shrewd, penetrating, loving gaze that Carley +quailed. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Carley, you look well—better than I ever saw you, +but—but—” +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t look happy,” interrupted Carley. “I am +happy to get home—to see you all... But—my—my heart is +broken!” +</p> + +<p> +A little shocked silence ensued, then Carley found herself being led across the +lower level and up the wide stairway. As she mounted to the vast-domed +cathedral-like chamber of the station a strange sensation pierced her with a +pang. Not the old thrill of leaving New York or returning! Nor was it the +welcome sight of the hurrying, well-dressed throng of travelers and commuters, +nor the stately beauty of the station. Carley shut her eyes, and then she knew. +The dim light of vast space above, the looming gray walls, shadowy with tracery +of figures, the lofty dome like the blue sky, brought back to her the walls of +Oak Creek Canyon and the great caverns under the ramparts. As suddenly as she +had shut her eyes Carley opened them to face her friends. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me get it over—quickly,” she burst out, with hot blood +surging to her face. “I—I hated the West. It was so raw—so +violent—so big. I think I hate it more—now.... But it changed +me—made me over physically—and did something to my soul—God +knows what.... And it has saved Glenn. Oh! he is wonderful! You would never +know him.... For long I had not the courage to tell him I came to bring him +back East. I kept putting it off. And I rode, I climbed, I camped, I lived +outdoors. At first it nearly killed me. Then it grew bearable, and easier, +until I forgot. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit now that +somehow I had a wonderful time, in spite of all.... Glenn’s business is +raising hogs. He has a hog ranch. Doesn’t it sound sordid? But things are +not always what they sound—or seem. Glenn is absorbed in his work. I +hated it—I expected to ridicule it. But I ended by infinitely respecting +him. I learned through his hog-raising the real nobility of work.... Well, at +last I found courage to ask him when he was coming back to New York. He said +‘<i>never!</i>’... I realized then my blindness, my selfishness. I +could not be his wife and live there. I could not. I was too small, too +miserable, too comfort-loving—too spoiled. And all the time he knew +this—<i>knew</i> I’d never be big enough to marry him.... That +broke my heart. I left him free—and here I am.... I beg +you—don’t ask me any more—and never to mention it to +me—so I can forget.” +</p> + +<p> +The tender unspoken sympathy of women who loved her proved comforting in that +trying hour. With the confession ruthlessly made the hard compression in +Carley’s breast subsided, and her eyes cleared of a hateful dimness. When +they reached the taxi stand outside the station Carley felt a rush of hot +devitalized air from the street. She seemed not to be able to get air into her +lungs. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it dreadfully hot?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a cool spell to what we had last week,” replied Eleanor. +</p> + +<p> +“Cool!” exclaimed Carley, as she wiped her moist face. “I +wonder if you Easterners know the real significance of words.” +</p> + +<p> +Then they entered a taxi, to be whisked away apparently through a labyrinthine +maze of cars and streets, where pedestrians had to run and jump for their +lives. A congestion of traffic at Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street halted +their taxi for a few moments, and here in the thick of it Carley had full +assurance that she was back in the metropolis. Her sore heart eased somewhat at +sight of the streams of people passing to and fro. How they rushed! Where were +they going? What was their story? And all the while her aunt held her hand, and +Beatrice and Eleanor talked as fast as their tongues could wag. Then the taxi +clattered on up the Avenue, to turn down a side street and presently stop at +Carley’s home. It was a modest three-story brown-stone house. Carley had +been so benumbed by sensations that she did not imagine she could experience a +new one. But peering out of the taxi, she gazed dubiously at the brownish-red +stone steps and front of her home. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to have it painted,” she muttered, as if to +herself. +</p> + +<p> +Her aunt and her friends laughed, glad and relieved to hear such a practical +remark from Carley. How were they to divine that this brownish-red stone was +the color of desert rocks and canyon walls? +</p> + +<p> +In a few more moments Carley was inside the house, feeling a sense of +protection in the familiar rooms that had been her home for seventeen years. +Once in the sanctity of her room, which was exactly as she had left it, her +first action was to look in the mirror at her weary, dusty, heated face. +Neither the brownness of it nor the shadow appeared to harmonize with the image +of her that haunted the mirror. +</p> + +<p> +“Now!” she whispered low. “It’s done. I’m home. +The old life—or a new life? How to meet either. Now!” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she challenged her spirit. And her intelligence rang at her the imperative +necessity for action, for excitement, for effort that left no time for rest or +memory or wakefulness. She accepted the issue. She was glad of the stern fight +ahead of her. She set her will and steeled her heart with all the pride and +vanity and fury of a woman who had been defeated but who scorned defeat. She +was what birth and breeding and circumstance had made her. She would seek what +the old life held. +</p> + +<p> +What with unpacking and chatting and telephoning and lunching, the day soon +passed. Carley went to dinner with friends and later to a roof garden. The +color and light, the gayety and music, the news of acquaintances, the humor of +the actors—all, in fact, except the unaccustomed heat and noise, were +most welcome and diverting. That night she slept the sleep of weariness. +</p> + +<p> +Awakening early, she inaugurated a habit of getting up at once, instead of +lolling in bed, and breakfasting there, and reading her mail, as had been her +wont before going West. Then she went over business matters with her aunt, +called on her lawyer and banker, took lunch with Rose Maynard, and spent the +afternoon shopping. Strong as she was, the unaccustomed heat and the hard +pavements and the jostle of shoppers and the continual rush of sensations wore +her out so completely that she did not want any dinner. She talked to her aunt +a while, then went to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Next day Carley motored through Central Park, and out of town into Westchester +County, finding some relief from the stiffing heat. But she seemed to look at +the dusty trees and the worn greens without really seeing them. In the +afternoon she called on friends, and had dinner at home with her aunt, and then +went to a theatre. The musical comedy was good, but the almost unbearable heat +and the vitiated air spoiled her enjoyment. That night upon arriving home at +midnight she stepped out of the taxi, and involuntarily, without thought, +looked up to see the stars. But there were no stars. A murky yellow-tinged +blackness hung low over the city. Carley recollected that stars, and sunrises +and sunsets, and untainted air, and silence were not for city dwellers. She +checked any continuation of the thought. +</p> + +<p> +A few days sufficed to swing her into the old life. Many of Carley’s +friends had neither the leisure nor the means to go away from the city during +the summer. Some there were who might have afforded that if they had seen fit +to live in less showy apartments, or to dispense with cars. Other of her best +friends were on their summer outings in the Adirondacks. Carley decided to go +with her aunt to Lake Placid about the first of August. Meanwhile she would +keep going and doing. +</p> + +<p> +She had been a week in town before Morrison telephoned her and added his +welcome. Despite the gay gladness of his voice, it irritated her. Really, she +scarcely wanted to see him. But a meeting was inevitable, and besides, going +out with him was in accordance with the plan she had adopted. So she made an +engagement to meet him at the Plaza for dinner. When with slow and pondering +action she hung up the receiver it occurred to her that she resented the idea +of going to the Plaza. She did not dwell on the reason why. +</p> + +<p> +When Carley went into the reception room of the Plaza that night Morrison was +waiting for her—the same slim, fastidious, elegant, sallow-faced Morrison +whose image she had in mind, yet somehow different. He had what Carley called +the New York masculine face, blasé and lined, with eyes that gleamed, yet had +no fire. But at sight of her his face lighted up. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! but you’ve come back a peach!” he exclaimed, +clasping her extended hand. “Eleanor told me you looked great. It’s +worth missing you to see you like this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, Larry,” she replied. “I must look pretty well to win +that compliment from you. And how are you feeling? You don’t seem robust +for a golfer and horseman. But then I’m used to husky Westerners.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m fagged with the daily grind,” he said. +“I’ll be glad to get up in the mountains next month. Let’s go +down to dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +They descended the spiral stairway to the grillroom, where an orchestra was +playing jazz, and dancers gyrated on a polished floor, and diners in evening +dress looked on over their cigarettes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Carley, are you still finicky about the eats?” he queried, +consulting the menu. +</p> + +<p> +“No. But I prefer plain food,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Have a cigarette,” he said, holding out his silver monogrammed +case. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, Larry. I—I guess I’ll not take up smoking again. You +see, while I was West I got out of the habit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, they told me you had changed,” he returned. “How about +drinking?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I thought New York had gone dry!” she said, forcing a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Only on the surface. Underneath it’s wetter than ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll obey the law.” +</p> + +<p> +He ordered a rather elaborate dinner, and then turning his attention to Carley, +gave her closer scrutiny. Carley knew then that he had become acquainted with +the fact of her broken engagement. It was a relief not to need to tell him. +</p> + +<p> +“How’s that big stiff, Kilbourne?” asked Morrison, suddenly. +“Is it true he got well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh—yes! He’s fine,” replied Carley with eyes cast +down. A hot knot seemed to form deep within her and threatened to break and +steal along her veins. “But if you please—I do not care to talk of +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally. But I must tell you that one man’s loss is +another’s gain.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley had rather expected renewed courtship from Morrison. She had not, +however, been prepared for the beat of her pulse, the quiver of her nerves, the +uprising of hot resentment at the mere mention of Kilbourne. It was only +natural that Glenn’s former rivals should speak of him, and perhaps +disparagingly. But from this man Carley could not bear even a casual reference. +Morrison had escaped the army service. He had been given a high-salaried post +at the ship-yards—the duties of which, if there had been any, he +performed wherever he happened to be. Morrison’s father had made a +fortune in leather during the war. And Carley remembered Glenn telling her he +had seen two whole blocks in Paris piled twenty feet deep with leather army +goods that were never used and probably had never been intended to be used. +Morrison represented the not inconsiderable number of young men in New York who +had gained at the expense of the valiant legion who had lost. But what had +Morrison gained? Carley raised her eyes to gaze steadily at him. He looked +well-fed, indolent, rich, effete, and supremely self-satisfied. She could not +see that he had gained anything. She would rather have been a crippled ruined +soldier. +</p> + +<p> +“Larry, I fear gain and loss are mere words,” she said. “The +thing that counts with me is what you <i>are</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +He stared in well-bred surprise, and presently talked of a new dance which had +lately come into vogue. And from that he passed on to gossip of the theatres. +Once between courses of the dinner he asked Carley to dance, and she complied. +The music would have stimulated an Egyptian mummy, Carley thought, and the +subdued rose lights, the murmur of gay voices, the glide and grace and +distortion of the dancers, were exciting and pleasurable. Morrison had the +suppleness and skill of a dancing-master. But he held Carley too tightly, and +so she told him, and added, “I imbibed some fresh pure air while I was +out West—something you haven’t here—and I don’t want it +all squeezed out of me.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +The latter days of July Carley made busy—so busy that she lost her tan +and appetite, and something of her splendid resistance to the dragging heat and +late hours. Seldom was she without some of her friends. She accepted almost any +kind of an invitation, and went even to Coney Island, to baseball games, to the +motion pictures, which were three forms of amusement not customary with her. At +Coney Island, which she visited with two of her younger girl friends, she had +the best time since her arrival home. What had put her in accord with ordinary +people? The baseball games, likewise pleased her. The running of the players +and the screaming of the spectators amused and excited her. But she hated the +motion pictures with their salacious and absurd misrepresentations of life, in +some cases capably acted by skillful actors, and in others a silly series of +scenes featuring some doll-faced girl. +</p> + +<p> +But she refused to go horseback riding in Central Park. She refused to go to +the Plaza. And these refusals she made deliberately, without asking herself +why. +</p> + +<p> +On August 1st she accompanied her aunt and several friends to Lake Placid, +where they established themselves at a hotel. How welcome to Carley’s +strained eyes were the green of mountains, the soft gleam of amber water! How +sweet and refreshing a breath of cool pure air! The change from New +York’s glare and heat and dirt, and iron-red insulating walls, and +thronging millions of people, and ceaseless roar and rush, was tremendously +relieving to Carley. She had burned the candle at both ends. But the beauty of +the hills and vales, the quiet of the forest, the sight of the stars, made it +harder to forget. She had to rest. And when she rested she could not always +converse, or read, or write. +</p> + +<p> +For the most part her days held variety and pleasure. The place was beautiful, +the weather pleasant, the people congenial. She motored over the forest roads, +she canoed along the margin of the lake, she played golf and tennis. She wore +exquisite gowns to dinner and danced during the evenings. But she seldom walked +anywhere on the trails and, never alone, and she never climbed the mountains +and never rode a horse. +</p> + +<p> +Morrison arrived and added his attentions to those of other men. Carley neither +accepted nor repelled them. She favored the association with married couples +and older people, and rather shunned the pairing off peculiar to vacationists +at summer hotels. She had always loved to play and romp with children, but here +she found herself growing to avoid them, somehow hurt by sound of pattering +feet and joyous laughter. She filled the days as best she could, and usually +earned quick slumber at night. She staked all on present occupation and the +truth of flying time. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"></a> +CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p> +The latter part of September Carley returned to New York. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after her arrival she received by letter a formal proposal of marriage +from Elbert Harrington, who had been quietly attentive to her during her +sojourn at Lake Placid. He was a lawyer of distinction, somewhat older than +most of her friends, and a man of means and fine family. Carley was quite +surprised. Harrington was really one of the few of her acquaintances whom she +regarded as somewhat behind the times, and liked him the better for that. But +she could not marry him, and replied to his letter in as kindly a manner as +possible. Then he called personally. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I’ve come to ask you to reconsider,” he said, with a +smile in his gray eyes. He was not a tall or handsome man, but he had what +women called a nice strong face. +</p> + +<p> +“Elbert, you embarrass me,” she replied, trying to laugh it out. +“Indeed I feel honored, and I thank you. But I can’t marry +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” he asked, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I don’t love you,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not expect you to,” he said. “I hoped in time you +might come to care. I’ve known you a good many years, Carley. Forgive me +if I tell you I see you are breaking—wearing yourself down. Maybe it is +not a husband you need so much now, but you do need a home and children. You +are wasting your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“All you say may be true, my friend,” replied Carley, with a +helpless little upflinging of hands. “Yet it does not alter my +feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you will marry sooner or later?” he queried, persistently. +</p> + +<p> +This straightforward question struck Carley as singularly as if it was one she +might never have encountered. It forced her to think of things she had buried. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe I ever will,” she answered, thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“That is nonsense, Carley,” he went on. “You’ll have to +marry. What else can you do? With all due respect to your feelings—that +affair with Kilbourne is ended—and you’re not the wishy-washy +heartbreak kind of a girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can never tell what a woman will do,” she said, somewhat +coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not. That’s why I refuse to take no. Carley, be +reasonable. You like me—respect me, do you not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course I do!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only thirty-five, and I could give you all any sensible woman +wants,” he said. “Let’s make a real American home. Have you +thought at all about that, Carley? Something is wrong today. Men are not +marrying. Wives are not having children. Of all the friends I have, not one has +a real American home. Why, it is a terrible fact! But, Carley, you are not a +sentimentalist, or a melancholiac. Nor are you a waster. You have fine +qualities. You need something to do, some one to care for.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray do not think me ungrateful, Elbert,” she replied, “nor +insensible to the truth of what you say. But my answer is no!” +</p> + +<p> +When Harrington had gone Carley went to her room, and precisely as upon her +return from Arizona she faced her mirror skeptically and relentlessly. “I +am such a liar that I’ll do well to look at myself,” she meditated. +“Here I am again. Now! The world expects me to marry. But <i>what</i> do +I expect?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a raw unheated wound in Carley’s heart. Seldom had she +permitted herself to think about it, let alone to probe it with hard +materialistic queries. But custom to her was as inexorable as life. If she +chose to live in the world she must conform to its customs. For a woman +marriage was the aim and the end and the all of existence. Nevertheless, for +Carley it could not be without love. Before she had gone West she might have +had many of the conventional modern ideas about women and marriage. But because +out there in the wilds her love and perception had broadened, now her +arraignment of herself and her sex was bigger, sterner, more exacting. The +months she had been home seemed fuller than all the months of her life. She had +tried to forget and enjoy; she had not succeeded; but she had looked with +far-seeing eyes at her world. Glenn Kilbourne’s tragic fate had opened +her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Either the world was all wrong or the people in it were. But if that were an +extravagant and erroneous supposition, there certainly was proof positive that +her own small individual world was wrong. The women did not do any real work; +they did not bear children; they lived on excitement and luxury. They had no +ideals. How greatly were men to blame? Carley doubted her judgment here. But as +men could not live without the smiles and comradeship and love of women, it was +only natural that they should give the women what they wanted. Indeed, they had +no choice. It was give or go without. How much of real love entered into the +marriages among her acquaintances? Before marriage Carley wanted a girl to be +sweet, proud, aloof, with a heart of golden fire. Not attainable except through +love! It would be better that no children be born at all unless born of such +beautiful love. Perhaps that was why so few children were born. Nature’s +balance and revenge! In Arizona Carley had learned something of the +ruthlessness and inevitableness of nature. She was finding out she had learned +this with many other staggering facts. +</p> + +<p> +“I love Glenn still,” she whispered, passionately, with trembling +lips, as she faced the tragic-eyed image of herself in the mirror. “I +love him more—more. Oh, my God! If I were honest I’d cry out the +truth! It is terrible. ... I will always love him. How then could I marry any +other man? I would be a lie, a cheat. If I could only forget him—only +kill that love. Then I might love another man—and if I did love +him—no matter what I had felt or done before, I would be worthy. I could +feel worthy. I could give him just as much. But without such love I’d +give only a husk—a body without soul.” +</p> + +<p> +Love, then, was the sacred and holy flame of life that sanctioned the begetting +of children. Marriage might be a necessity of modern time, but it was not the +vital issue. Carley’s anguish revealed strange and hidden truths. In some +inexplicable way Nature struck a terrible balance—revenged herself upon a +people who had no children, or who brought into the world children not created +by the divinity of love, unyearned for, and therefore somehow doomed to carry +on the blunders and burdens of life. +</p> + +<p> +Carley realized how right and true it might be for her to throw herself away +upon an inferior man, even a fool or a knave, if she loved him with that great +and natural love of woman; likewise it dawned upon her how false and wrong and +sinful it would be to marry the greatest or the richest or the noblest man +unless she had that supreme love to give him, and knew it was reciprocated. +</p> + +<p> +“What am I going to do with my life?” she asked, bitterly and +aghast. “I have been—I am a waster. I’ve lived for nothing +but pleasurable sensation. I’m utterly useless. I do absolutely no good +on earth.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she saw how Harrington’s words rang true—how they had +precipitated a crisis for which her unconscious brooding had long made +preparation. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not give up ideals and be like the rest of my kind?” she +soliloquized. +</p> + +<p> +That was one of the things which seemed wrong with modern life. She thrust the +thought from her with passionate scorn. If poor, broken, ruined Glenn Kilbourne +could cling to an ideal and fight for it, could not she, who had all the world +esteemed worth while, be woman enough to do the same? The direction of her +thought seemed to have changed. She had been ready for rebellion. Three months +of the old life had shown her that for her it was empty, vain, farcical, +without one redeeming feature. The naked truth was brutal, but it cut clean to +wholesome consciousness. Such so-called social life as she had plunged into +deliberately to forget her unhappiness had failed her utterly. If she had been +shallow and frivolous it might have done otherwise. Stripped of all guise, her +actions must have been construed by a penetrating and impartial judge as a mere +parading of her decorated person before a number of males with the purpose of +ultimate selection. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got to find some work,” she muttered, soberly. +</p> + +<p> +At the moment she heard the postman’s whistle outside; and a little later +the servant brought up her mail. The first letter, large, soiled, thick, bore +the postmark Flagstaff, and her address in Glenn Kilbourne’s writing. +</p> + +<p> +Carley stared at it. Her heart gave a great leap. Her hand shook. She sat down +suddenly as if the strength of her legs was inadequate to uphold her. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn has—written me!” she whispered, in slow, halting +realization. “For what? Oh, why?” +</p> + +<p> +The other letters fell off her lap, to lie unnoticed. This big thick envelope +fascinated her. It was one of the stamped envelopes she had seen in his cabin. +It contained a letter that had been written on his rude table, before the open +fire, in the light of the doorway, in that little log-cabin under the spreading +pines of West Ford Canyon. Dared she read it? The shock to her heart passed; +and with mounting swell, seemingly too full for her breast, it began to beat +and throb a wild gladness through all her being. She tore the envelope apart +and read: +</p> + +<div class="letter"> + +<p> +D<small>EAR</small> C<small>ARLEY</small>: +</p> + +<p> +I’m surely glad for a good excuse to write you. +</p> + +<p> +Once in a blue moon I get a letter, and today Hutter brought me one from a +soldier pard of mine who was with me in the Argonne. His name is Virgil +Rust—queer name, don’t you think?—and he’s from +Wisconsin. Just a rough-diamond sort of chap, but fairly well educated. He and +I were in some pretty hot places, and it was he who pulled me out of a shell +crater. I’d “gone west” sure then if it hadn’t been for +Rust. +</p> + +<p> +Well, he did all sorts of big things during the war. Was down several times +with wounds. He liked to fight and he was a holy terror. We all thought +he’d get medals and promotion. But he didn’t get either. These +much-desired things did not always go where they were best deserved. +</p> + +<p> +Rust is now lying in a hospital in Bedford Park. His letter is pretty blue. All +he says about why he’s there is that he’s knocked out. But he wrote +a heap about his girl. It seems he was in love with a girl in his home +town—a pretty, big-eyed lass whose picture I’ve seen—and +while he was overseas she married one of the chaps who got out of fighting. +Evidently Rust is deeply hurt. He wrote: “I’d not care so... if +she’d thrown me down to marry an old man or a boy who couldn’t have +gone to war.” You see, Carley, service men feel queer about that sort of +thing. It’s something we got over there, and none of us will ever outlive +it. Now, the point of this is that I am asking you to go see Rust, and cheer +him up, and do what you can for the poor devil. It’s a good deal to ask +of you, I know, especially as Rust saw <i>your</i> picture many a time and +knows you were my girl. But you needn’t tell him that you—we +couldn’t make a go of it. +</p> + +<p> +And, as I am writing this to you, I see no reason why I shouldn’t go on +in behalf of myself. +</p> + +<p> +The fact is, Carley, I miss writing to you more than I miss anything of my old +life. I’ll bet you have a trunkful of letters from me—unless +you’ve destroyed them. I’m not going to say how I miss <i>your</i> +letters. But I will say you wrote the most charming and fascinating letters of +anyone I ever knew, quite aside from any sentiment. You knew, of course, that I +had no other girl correspondent. Well, I got along fairly well before you came +West, but I’d be an awful liar if I denied I didn’t get lonely for +you and your letters. It’s different now that you’ve been to Oak +Creek. I’m alone most of the time and I dream a lot, and I’m afraid +I see you here in my cabin, and along the brook, and under the pines, and +riding Calico—which you came to do well—and on my hogpen +fence—and, oh, everywhere! I don’t want you to think I’m down +in the mouth, for I’m not. I’ll take my medicine. But, Carley, you +spoiled me, and I miss hearing from you, and I don’t see why it +wouldn’t be all right for you to send me a friendly letter occasionally. +</p> + +<p> +It is autumn now. I wish you could see Arizona canyons in their gorgeous +colors. We have had frost right along and the mornings are great. There’s +a broad zigzag belt of gold halfway up the San Francisco peaks, and that is the +aspen thickets taking on their fall coat. Here in the canyon you’d think +there was blazing fire everywhere. The vines and the maples are red, scarlet, +carmine, cerise, magenta, all the hues of flame. The oak leaves are turning +russet gold, and the sycamores are yellow green. Up on the desert the other day +I rode across a patch of asters, lilac and lavender, almost purple. I had to +get off and pluck a handful. And then what do you think? I dug up the whole +bunch, roots and all, and planted them on the sunny side of my cabin. I rather +guess your love of flowers engendered this remarkable susceptibility in me. +</p> + +<p> +I’m home early most every afternoon now, and I like the couple of hours +loafing around. Guess it’s bad for me, though. You know I seldom hunt, +and the trout in the pool here are so tame now they’ll almost eat out of +my hand. I haven’t the heart to fish for them. The squirrels, too, have +grown tame and friendly. There’s a red squirrel that climbs up on my +table. And there’s a chipmunk who lives in my cabin and runs over my bed. +I’ve a new pet—the little pig you christened Pinky. After he had +the wonderful good fortune to be caressed and named by you I couldn’t +think of letting him grow up in an ordinary piglike manner. So I fetched him +home. My dog, Moze, was jealous at first and did not like this intrusion, but +now they are good friends and sleep together. Flo has a kitten she’s +going to give me, and then, as Hutter says, I’ll be “Jake.” +</p> + +<p> +My occupation during these leisure hours perhaps would strike my old friends +East as idle, silly, mawkish. But I believe you will understand me. +</p> + +<p> +I have the pleasure of doing nothing, and of catching now and then a glimpse of +supreme joy in the strange state of <i>thinking</i> nothing. Tennyson came +close to this in his “Lotus Eaters.” Only to see—only to feel +is enough! +</p> + +<p> +Sprawled on the warm sweet pine needles, I breathe through them the breath of +the earth and am somehow no longer lonely. I cannot, of course, see the sunset, +but I watch for its coming on the eastern wall of the canyon. I see the shadow +slowly creep up, driving the gold before it, until at last the canyon rim and +pines are turned to golden fire. I watch the sailing eagles as they streak +across the gold, and swoop up into the blue, and pass out of sight. I watch the +golden flush fade to gray, and then, the canyon slowly fills with purple +shadows. This hour of twilight is the silent and melancholy one. Seldom is +there any sound save the soft rush of the water over the stones, and that seems +to die away. For a moment, perhaps, I am Hiawatha alone in his forest home, or +a more primitive savage, feeling the great, silent pulse of nature, happy in +unconsciousness, like a beast of the wild. But only for an instant do I ever +catch this fleeting state. Next I am Glenn Kilbourne of West Fork, doomed and +haunted by memories of the past. The great looming walls then become no longer +blank. They are vast pages of the history of my life, with its past and +present, and, alas! its future. Everything time does is written on the stones. +And my stream seems to murmur the sad and ceaseless flow of human life, with +its music and its misery. +</p> + +<p> +Then, descending from the sublime to the humdrum and necessary, I heave a sigh, +and pull myself together, and go in to make biscuits and fry ham. But I should +not forget to tell you that before I do go in, very often my looming, wonderful +walls and crags weave in strange shadowy characters the beautiful and +unforgettable face of Carley Burch! +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +I append what little news Oak Creek affords. +</p> + +<p> +That blamed old bald eagle stole another of my pigs. +</p> + +<p> +I am doing so well with my hog-raising that Hutter wants to come in with me, +giving me an interest in his sheep. +</p> + +<p> +It is rumored some one has bought the Deep Lake section I wanted for a ranch. I +don’t know who. Hutter was rather noncommittal. +</p> + +<p> +Charley, the herder, had one of his queer spells the other day, and swore to me +he had a letter from you. He told the blamed lie with a sincere and placid eye, +and even a smile of pride. Queer guy, that Charley! +</p> + +<p> +Flo and Lee Stanton had another quarrel—the worst yet, Lee tells me. Flo +asked a girl friend out from Flag and threw her in Lee’s way, so to +speak, and when Lee retaliated by making love to the girl Flo got mad. Funny +creatures, you girls! Flo rode with me from High Falls to West Fork, and never +showed the slightest sign of trouble. In fact she was delightfully gay. She +rode Calico, and beat me bad in a race. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"> +<i>Adios</i>, Carley. Won’t you write me?<br/> +G<small>LENN</small>. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner had Carley read the letter through to the end than she began it all +over again, and on this second perusal she lingered over passages—only to +reread them. That suggestion of her face sculptured by shadows on the canyon +walls seemed to thrill her very soul. +</p> + +<p> +She leaped up from the reading to cry out something that was unutterable. All +the intervening weeks of shame and anguish and fury and strife and pathos, and +the endless striving to forget, were as if by the magic of a letter made +nothing but vain oblations. +</p> + +<p> +“He loves me still!” she whispered, and pressed her breast with +clenching hands, and laughed in wild exultance, and paced her room like a caged +lioness. It was as if she had just awakened to the assurance she was beloved. +That was the shibboleth—the cry by which she sounded the closed depths of +her love and called to the stricken life of a woman’s insatiate vanity. +</p> + +<p> +Then she snatched up the letter, to scan it again, and, suddenly grasping the +import of Glenn’s request, she hurried to the telephone to find the +number of the hospital in Bedford Park. A nurse informed her that visitors were +received at certain hours and that any attention to disabled soldiers was most +welcome. +</p> + +<p> +Carley motored out there to find the hospital merely a long one-story frame +structure, a barracks hastily thrown up for the care of invalided men of the +service. The chauffeur informed her that it had been used for that purpose +during the training period of the army, and later when injured soldiers began +to arrive from France. +</p> + +<p> +A nurse admitted Carley into a small bare anteroom. Carley made known her +errand. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad it’s Rust you want to see,” replied the +nurse. “Some of these boys are going to die. And some will be worse off +if they live. But Rust may get well if he’ll only behave. You are a +relative—or friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know him,” answered Carley. “But I have a +friend who was with him in France.” +</p> + +<p> +The nurse led Carley into a long narrow room with a line of single beds down +each side, a stove at each end, and a few chairs. Each bed appeared to have an +occupant and those nearest Carley lay singularly quiet. At the far end of the +room were soldiers on crutches, wearing bandages on their beads, carrying their +arms in slings. Their merry voices contrasted discordantly with their sad +appearance. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Carley stood beside a bed and looked down upon a gaunt, haggard young +man who lay propped up on pillows. +</p> + +<p> +“Rust—a lady to see you,” announced the nurse. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had difficulty in introducing herself. Had Glenn ever looked like this? +What a face! It’s healed scar only emphasized the pallor and furrows of +pain that assuredly came from present wounds. He had unnaturally bright dark +eyes, and a flush of fever in his hollow cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“How do!” he said, with a wan smile. “Who’re +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Glenn Kilbourne’s fiancée,” she replied, holding +out her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, I ought to’ve known you,” he said, eagerly, and a +warmth of light changed the gray shade of his face. “You’re the +girl Carley! You’re almost like my—my own girl. By golly! +You’re some looker! It was good of you to come. Tell me about +Glenn.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley took the chair brought by the nurse, and pulling it close to the bed, +she smiled down upon him and said: “I’ll be glad to tell you all I +know—presently. But first you tell me about yourself. Are you in pain? +What is your trouble? You must let me do everything I can for you, and these +other men.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley spent a poignant and depth-stirring hour at the bedside of Glenn’s +comrade. At last she learned from loyal lips the nature of Glenn +Kilbourne’s service to his country. How Carley clasped to her sore heart +the praise of the man she loved—the simple proofs of his noble disregard +of self! Rust said little about his own service to country or to comrade. But +Carley saw enough in his face. He had been like Glenn. By these two Carley +grasped the compelling truth of the spirit and sacrifice of the legion of boys +who had upheld American traditions. Their children and their children’s +children, as the years rolled by into the future, would hold their heads higher +and prouder. Some things could never die in the hearts and the blood of a race. +These boys, and the girls who had the supreme glory of being loved by them, +must be the ones to revive the Americanism of their forefathers. Nature and God +would take care of the slackers, the cowards who cloaked their shame with bland +excuses of home service, of disability, and of dependence. +</p> + +<p> +Carley saw two forces in life—the destructive and constructive. On the +one side greed, selfishness, materialism: on the other generosity, sacrifice, +and idealism. Which of them builded for the future? She saw men as wolves, +sharks, snakes, vermin, and opposed to them men as lions and eagles. She saw +women who did not inspire men to fare forth to seek, to imagine, to dream, to +hope, to work, to fight. She began to have a glimmering of what a woman might +be. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +That night she wrote swiftly and feverishly, page after page, to Glenn, only to +destroy what she had written. She could not keep her heart out of her words, +nor a hint of what was becoming a sleepless and eternal regret. She wrote until +a late hour, and at last composed a letter she knew did not ring true, so +stilted and restrained was it in all passages save those concerning news of +Glenn’s comrade and of her own friends. “I’ll +never—never write him again,” she averred with stiff lips, and next +moment could have laughed in mockery at the bitter truth. If she had ever had +any courage, Glenn’s letter had destroyed it. But had it not been a kind +of selfish, false courage, roused to hide her hurt, to save her own future? +Courage should have a thought of others. Yet shamed one moment at the +consciousness she would write Glenn again and again, and exultant the next with +the clamouring love, she seemed to have climbed beyond the self that had +striven to forget. She would remember and think though she died of longing. +</p> + +<p> +Carley, like a drowning woman, caught at straws. What a relief and joy to give +up that endless nagging at her mind! For months she had kept ceaselessly +active, by associations which were of no help to her and which did not make her +happy, in her determination to forget. Suddenly then she gave up to +remembrance. She would cease trying to get over her love for Glenn, and think +of him and dream about him as much as memory dictated. This must constitute the +only happiness she could have. +</p> + +<p> +The change from strife to surrender was so novel and sweet that for days she +felt renewed. It was augmented by her visits to the hospital in Bedford Park. +Through her bountiful presence Virgil Rust and his comrades had many dull hours +of pain and weariness alleviated and brightened. Interesting herself in the +condition of the seriously disabled soldiers and possibility of their future +took time and work Carley gave willingly and gladly. At first she endeavored to +get acquaintances with means and leisure to help the boys, but these overtures +met with such little success that she quit wasting valuable time she could +herself devote to their interests. +</p> + +<p> +Thus several weeks swiftly passed by. Several soldiers who had been more +seriously injured than Rust improved to the extent that they were discharged. +But Rust gained little or nothing. The nurse and doctor both informed Carley +that Rust brightened for her, but when she was gone he lapsed into somber +indifference. He did not care whether he ate or not, or whether he got well or +died. +</p> + +<p> +“If I do pull out, where’ll I go and what’ll I do?” he +once asked the nurse. +</p> + +<p> +Carley knew that Rust’s hurt was more than loss of a leg, and she decided +to talk earnestly to him and try to win him to hope and effort. He had come to +have a sort of reverence for her. So, biding her time, she at length found +opportunity to approach his bed while his comrades were asleep or out of +hearing. He endeavored to laugh her off, and then tried subterfuge, and lastly +he cast off his mask and let her see his naked soul. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I don’t want your money or that of your kind +friends—whoever they are—you say will help me to get into +business,” he said. “God knows I thank you and it warms me inside +to find <i>some one</i> who appreciates what I’ve given. But I +don’t want charity.... And I guess I’m pretty sick of the game. +I’m sorry the Boches didn’t do the job right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rust, that is morbid talk,” replied Carley. “You’re +ill and you just can’t see any hope. You must cheer up—fight +<i>yourself;</i> and look at the brighter side. It’s a horrible pity you +must be a cripple, but Rust, indeed life can be worth living if you make it +so.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could there be a brighter side when a man’s only half a +man—” he queried, bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“You can be just as much a man as ever,” persisted Carley, trying +to smile when she wanted to cry. +</p> + +<p> +“Could you care for a man with only one leg?” he asked, +deliberately. +</p> + +<p> +“What a question! Why, of course I could!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, maybe you are different. Glenn always swore even if he was killed +no slacker or no rich guy left at home could ever get you. Maybe you +haven’t any idea how much it means to us fellows to know there <i>are</i> +true and faithful girls. But I’ll tell you, Carley, we fellows who went +across got to see things strange when we came home. The good old U. S. needs a +lot of faithful girls just now, believe me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed that’s true,” replied Carley. “It’s a +hard time for everybody, and particularly you boys who have lost so—so +much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I lost <i>all</i>, except my life—and I wish to God I’d lost +that,” he replied, gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t talk so!” implored Carley in distress. +“Forgive me, Rust, if I hurt you. But I must tell +you—that—that Glenn wrote me—you’d lost your girl. Oh, +I’m sorry! It is dreadful for you now. But if you got well—and went +to work—and took up life where you left it—why soon your pain would +grow easier. And you’d find some happiness yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never for me in this world.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why, Rust, <i>why?</i> You’re no—no—Oh! I mean you +have intelligence and courage. Why isn’t there anything left for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because something here’s been killed,” he replied, and put +his hand to his heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Your faith? Your love of—of everything? Did the war kill +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d gotten over that, maybe,” he said, drearily, with his +somber eyes on space that seemed lettered for him. “But <i>she</i> half +murdered it—and <i>they</i> did the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“They? Whom do you mean, Rust?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Carley, I mean the people I lost my leg for!” he replied, +with terrible softness. +</p> + +<p> +“The British? The French?” she queried, in bewilderment. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>No!</i>” he cried, and turned his face to the wall. +</p> + +<p> +Carley dared not ask him more. She was shocked. How helplessly impotent all her +earnest sympathy! No longer could she feel an impersonal, however kindly, +interest in this man. His last ringing word had linked her also to his +misfortune and his suffering. Suddenly he turned away from the wall. She saw +him swallow laboriously. How tragic that thin, shadowed face of agony! Carley +saw it differently. But for the beautiful softness of light in his eyes, she +would have been unable to endure gazing longer. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, I’m bitter,” he said, “but I’m not +rancorous and callous, like some of the boys. I know if you’d been my +girl you’d have stuck to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Carley whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“That makes a difference,” he went on, with a sad smile. “You +see, we soldiers all had feelings. And in one thing we all felt alike. That was +we were going to fight for our homes and our women. I should say women first. +No matter what we read or heard about standing by our allies, fighting for +liberty or civilization, the truth was we all felt the same, even if we never +breathed it.... Glenn fought for you. I fought for Nell.... We were not going +to let the Huns treat you as they treated French and Belgian girls.... And +think! Nell was engaged to me—she <i>loved</i> me—and, by God! She +married a slacker when I lay half dead on the battlefield!” +</p> + +<p> +“She was not worth loving or fighting for,” said Carley, with +agitation. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! now you’ve said something,” he declared. “If I can +only hold to that truth! What does one girl amount to? <i>I</i> do not count. +It is the sum that counts. We love America—our homes—our women!... +Carley, I’ve had comfort and strength come to me through you. Glenn will +have his reward in your love. Somehow I seem to share it, a little. Poor Glenn! +He got his, too. Why, Carley, that guy wouldn’t <i>let</i> you do what he +could do <i>for you</i>. He was cut to pieces—” +</p> + +<p> +“Please—Rust—don’t say any more. I am unstrung,” +she pleaded. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? It’s due you to know how splendid Glenn was.... I tell +you, Carley, all the boys here love you for the way you’ve stuck to +Glenn. Some of them knew him, and I’ve told the rest. We thought +he’d never pull through. But he has, and we know how you helped. Going +West to see him! He didn’t write it to me, but I know.... I’m wise. +I’m happy for him—the lucky dog. Next time you go +West—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” cried Carley. She could endure no more. She could no longer +be a lie. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re white—you’re shaking,” exclaimed Rust, in +concern. “Oh, I—what did I say? Forgive me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Rust, I am no more worth loving and fighting for than your Nell.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” he ejaculated. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not told you the truth,” she said, swiftly. “I have +let you believe a lie.... I shall never marry Glenn. I broke my engagement to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +Slowly Rust sank back upon the pillow, his large luminous eyes piercingly fixed +upon her, as if he would read her soul. +</p> + +<p> +“I went West—yes—” continued Carley. “But it was +selfishly. I wanted Glenn to come back here.... He had suffered as you have. He +nearly died. But he fought—he fought—Oh! he went through hell! And +after a long, slow, horrible struggle he began to mend. He worked. He went to +raising hogs. He lived alone. He worked harder and harder.... The West and his +work saved him, body and soul.... He had learned to love both the West and his +work. I did not blame him. But I could not live out there. He needed me. But I +was too little—too selfish. I could not marry him. I gave him up. ... I +left—him—alone!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley shrank under the scorn in Rust’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And there’s another man,” he said, “a clean, straight, +unscarred fellow who wouldn’t fight!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no—I—I swear there’s not,” whispered Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“You, too,” he replied, thickly. Then slowly he turned that worn +dark face to the wall. His frail breast heaved. And his lean hand made her a +slight gesture of dismissal, significant and imperious. +</p> + +<p> +Carley fled. She could scarcely see to find the car. All her internal being +seemed convulsed, and a deadly faintness made her sick and cold. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"></a> +CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p> +Carley’s edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in +ruins about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal for +foundation. It had to fall. +</p> + +<p> +Something inevitable had forced her confession to Rust. Dissimulation had been +a habit of her mind; it was more a habit of her class than sincerity. But she +had reached a point in her mental strife where she could not stand before Rust +and let him believe she was noble and faithful when she knew she was neither. +Would not the next step in this painful metamorphosis of her character be a +fierce and passionate repudiation of herself and all she represented? +</p> + +<p> +She went home and locked herself in her room, deaf to telephone and servants. +There she gave up to her shame. Scorned—despised—dismissed by that +poor crippled flame-spirited Virgil Rust! He had reverenced her, and the truth +had earned his hate. Would she ever forget his +look—incredulous—shocked—bitter—and blazing with +unutterable contempt? Carley Burch was only another Nell—a jilt—a +mocker of the manhood of soldiers! Would she ever cease to shudder at memory of +Rust’s slight movement of hand? Go! Get out of my sight! Leave me to my +agony as you left Glenn Kilbourne alone to fight his! Men such as I am do not +want the smile of your face, the touch of your hand! We gave for womanhood! +Pass on to lesser men who loved the fleshpots and who would buy your charms! So +Carley interpreted that slight gesture, and writhed in her abasement. +</p> + +<p> +Rust threw a white, illuminating light upon her desertion of Glenn. She had +betrayed him. She had left him alone. Dwarfed and stunted was her narrow soul! +To a man who had given all for her she had returned nothing. Stone for bread! +Betrayal for love! Cowardice for courage! +</p> + +<p> +The hours of contending passions gave birth to vague, slow-forming revolt. +</p> + +<p> +She became haunted by memory pictures and sounds and smells of Oak Creek +Canyon. As from afar she saw the great sculptured rent in the earth, green and +red and brown, with its shining, flashing ribbons of waterfalls and streams. +The mighty pines stood up magnificent and stately. The walls loomed high, +shadowed under the shelves, gleaming in the sunlight, and they seemed dreaming, +waiting, watching. For what? For her return to their serene fastnesses—to +the little gray log cabin. The thought stormed Carley’s soul. +</p> + +<p> +Vivid and intense shone the images before her shut eyes. She saw the winding +forest floor, green with grass and fern, colorful with flower and rock. A +thousand aisles, glades, nooks, and caverns called her to come. Nature was +every woman’s mother. The populated city was a delusion. Disease and +death and corruption stalked in the shadows of the streets. But her canyon +promised hard work, playful hours, dreaming idleness, beauty, health, +fragrance, loneliness, peace, wisdom, love, children, and long life. In the +hateful shut-in isolation of her room Carley stretched forth her arms as if to +embrace the vision. Pale close walls, gleaming placid stretches of brook, +churning amber and white rapids, mossy banks and pine-matted ledges, the towers +and turrets and ramparts where the eagles wheeled—she saw them all as +beloved images lost to her save in anguished memory. +</p> + +<p> +She heard the murmur of flowing water, soft, low, now loud, and again lulling, +hollow and eager, tinkling over rocks, bellowing into the deep pools, washing +with silky seep of wind-swept waves the hanging willows. Shrill and piercing +and far-aloft pealed the scream of the eagle. And she seemed to listen to a +mocking bird while he mocked her with his melody of many birds. The bees +hummed, the wind moaned, the leaves rustled, the waterfall murmured. Then came +the sharp rare note of a canyon swift, most mysterious of birds, significant of +the heights. +</p> + +<p> +A breath of fragrance seemed to blow with her shifting senses. The dry, sweet, +tangy canyon smells returned to her—of fresh-cut timber, of wood smoke, +of the cabin fire with its steaming pots, of flowers and earth, and of the wet +stones, of the redolent pines and the pungent cedars. +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly, clearly, amazingly, Carley beheld in her mind’s sight the +hard features, the bold eyes, the slight smile, the coarse face of Haze Ruff. +She had forgotten him. But he now returned. And with memory of him flashed a +revelation as to his meaning in her life. He had appeared merely a clout, a +ruffian, an animal with man’s shape and intelligence. But he was the +embodiment of the raw, crude violence of the West. He was the eyes of the +natural primitive man, believing what he saw. He had seen in Carley Burch the +paraded charm, the unashamed and serene front, the woman seeking man. Haze Ruff +had been neither vile nor base nor unnatural. It had been her subjection to the +decadence of feminine dress that had been unnatural. But Ruff had found her a +lie. She invited what she did not want. And his scorn had been commensurate +with the falsehood of her. So might any man have been justified in his insult +to her, in his rejection of her. Haze Ruff had found her unfit for his idea of +dalliance. Virgil Rust had found her false to the ideals of womanhood for which +he had sacrificed all but life itself. What then had Glenn Kilbourne found her? +He possessed the greatness of noble love. He had loved her before the dark and +changeful tide of war had come between them. How had he judged her? That last +sight of him standing alone, leaning with head bowed, a solitary figure +trenchant with suggestion of tragic resignation and strength, returned to flay +Carley. He had loved, trusted, and hoped. She saw now what his hope had +been—that she would have instilled into her blood the subtle, red, and +revivifying essence of calling life in the open, the strength of the wives of +earlier years, an emanation from canyon, desert, mountain, forest, of health, +of spirit, of forward-gazing natural love, of the mysterious saving instinct he +had gotten out of the West. And she had been too little too steeped in the +indulgence of luxurious life too slight-natured and pale-blooded! And suddenly +there pierced into the black storm of Carley’s mind a blazing, +white-streaked thought—she had left Glenn to the Western girl, Flo +Hutter. Humiliated, and abased in her own sight, Carley fell prey to a fury of +jealousy. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +She went back to the old life. But it was in a bitter, restless, critical +spirit, conscious of the fact that she could derive neither forgetfulness nor +pleasure from it, nor see any release from the habit of years. +</p> + +<p> +One afternoon, late in the fall, she motored out to a Long Island club where +the last of the season’s golf was being enjoyed by some of her most +intimate friends. Carley did not play. Aimlessly she walked around the grounds, +finding the autumn colors subdued and drab, like her mind. The air held a +promise of early winter. She thought that she would go South before the cold +came. Always trying to escape anything rigorous, hard, painful, or +disagreeable! Later she returned to the clubhouse to find her party assembled +on an inclosed porch, chatting and partaking of refreshment. Morrison was +there. He had not taken kindly to her late habit of denying herself to him. +</p> + +<p> +During a lull in the idle conversation Morrison addressed Carley pointedly. +“Well, Carley, how’s your Arizona hog-raiser?” he queried, +with a little gleam in his usually lusterless eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not heard lately,” she replied, coldly. +</p> + +<p> +The assembled company suddenly quieted with a portent inimical to their +leisurely content of the moment. Carley felt them all looking at her, and +underneath the exterior she preserved with extreme difficulty, there burned so +fierce an anger that she seemed to have swelling veins of fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Queer how Kilbourne went into raising hogs,” observed Morrison. +“Such a low-down sort of work, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“He had no choice,” replied Carley. “Glenn didn’t have +a father who made tainted millions out of the war. He had to work. And I must +differ with you about its being low-down. No honest work is that. It is +idleness that is low down.” +</p> + +<p> +“But so foolish of Glenn when he might have married money,” +rejoined Morrison, sarcastcally. +</p> + +<p> +“The honor of soldiers is beyond your ken, Mr. Morrison.” +</p> + +<p> +He flushed darkly and bit his lip. +</p> + +<p> +“You women make a man sick with this rot about soldiers,” he said, +the gleam in his eye growing ugly. “A uniform goes to a woman’s +head no matter what’s inside it. I don’t see where your vaunted +honor of soldiers comes in considering how they accepted the let-down of women +during and after the war.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could you see when you stayed comfortably at home?” retorted +Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“All I could see was women falling into soldiers’ arms,” he +said, sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. Could an American girl desire any greater happiness—or +opportunity to prove her gratitude?” flashed Carley, with proud uplift of +head. +</p> + +<p> +“It didn’t look like gratitude to me,” returned Morrison. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it <i>was</i> gratitude,” declared Carley, ringingly. +“If women of America did throw themselves at soldiers it was not owing to +the moral lapse of the day. It was woman’s instinct to save the race! +Always, in every war, women have sacrificed themselves to the future. Not vile, +but noble!... You insult both soldiers and women, Mr. Morrison. I +wonder—did any American girls throw themselves at <i>you?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Morrison turned a dead white, and his mouth twisted to a distorted checking of +speech, disagreeable to see. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you were a slacker,” went on Carley, with scathing scorn. +“You let the other men go fight for American girls. Do you imagine one of +them will ever <i>marry</i> you?... All your life, Mr. Morrison, you will be a +marked man—outside the pale of friendship with real American men and the +respect of real American girls.” +</p> + +<p> +Morrison leaped up, almost knocking the table over, and he glared at Carley as +he gathered up his hat and cane. She turned her back upon him. From that moment +he ceased to exist for Carley. She never spoke to him again. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Next day Carley called upon her dearest friend, whom she had not seen for some +time. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley dear, you don’t look so very well,” said Eleanor, +after greetings had been exchanged. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what does it matter how I look?” queried Carley, impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“You were so wonderful when you got home from Arizona.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I was wonderful and am now commonplace you can thank your old New +York for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, don’t you care for New York any more?” asked +Eleanor. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, New York is all right, I suppose. It’s I who am wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, you puzzle me these days. You’ve changed. I’m +sorry. I’m afraid you’re unhappy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me? Oh, impossible! I’m in a seventh heaven,” replied +Carley, with a hard little laugh. “What ’re you doing this +afternoon? Let’s go out—riding—or somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m expecting the dressmaker.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you going to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dinner and theater. It’s a party, or I’d ask you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you do yesterday and the day before, and the days before +that?” +</p> + +<p> +Eleanor laughed indulgently, and acquainted Carley with a record of her social +wanderings during the last few days. +</p> + +<p> +“The same old things—over and over again! Eleanor don’t you +get sick of it?” queried Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, to tell the truth,” returned Eleanor, thoughtfully. +“But there’s nothing else to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eleanor, I’m no better than you,” said Carley, with disdain. +“I’m as useless and idle. But I’m beginning to see +myself—and you—and all this rotten crowd of ours. We’re no +good. But you’re married, Eleanor. You’re settled in life. You +ought to <i>do something</i>. I’m single and at loose ends. Oh, I’m +in revolt!... Think, Eleanor, just think. Your husband works hard to keep you +in this expensive apartment. You have a car. He dresses you in silks and +satins. You wear diamonds. You eat your breakfast in bed. You loll around in a +pink dressing gown all morning. You dress for lunch or tea. You ride or golf or +worse than waste your time on some lounge lizard, dancing till time to come +home to dress for dinner. You let other men make love to you. Oh, don’t +get sore. You do.... And so goes the round of your life. What good on earth are +you, anyhow? You’re just a—a gratification to the senses of your +husband. And at that you don’t see much of <i>him</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, how you rave!” exclaimed her friend. “What has +gotten into you lately? Why, everybody tells me you’re—you’re +queer! The way you insulted Morrison—how unlike you, Carley!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad I found the nerve to do it. What do you think, +Eleanor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I despise him. But you can’t say the things you feel.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’d be bigger and truer if you did. Some day I’ll break +out and flay you and your friends alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Carley, you’re my friend and you’re just exactly like +we are. Or you were, quite recently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I’m your friend. I’ve always loved you, +Eleanor,” went on Carley, earnestly. “I’m as deep in +this—this damned stagnant muck as you, or anyone. But I’m no longer +<i>blind</i>. There’s something terribly wrong with us women, and +it’s not what Morrison hinted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, the only thing wrong with you is that you jilted poor +Glenn—and are breaking your heart over him still.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t—don’t!” cried Carley, shrinking. +“God knows that is true. But there’s more wrong with me than a +blighted love affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you mean the modern feminine unrest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Eleanor, I positively hate that phrase ‘modern feminine +unrest!’ It smacks of ultra—ultra—Oh! I don’t know +what. That phrase ought to be translated by a Western acquaintance of +mine—one Haze Ruff. I’d not like to hurt your sensitive feelings +with what he’d say. But this unrest means speed-mad, excitement-mad, +fad-mad, dress-mad, or I should say <i>un</i>dress-mad, culture-mad, and Heaven +only knows what else. The women of our set are idle, luxurious, selfish, +pleasure-craving, lazy, useless, work-and-children shirking, absolutely no +good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if we are, who’s to blame?” rejoined Eleanor, +spiritedly. “Now, Carley Burch, you listen to me. I think the +twentieth-century girl in America is the most wonderful female creation of all +the ages of the universe. I admit it. That is why we are a prey to the evils +attending greatness. Listen. Here is a crying sin—an infernal paradox. +Take this twentieth-century girl, this American girl who is the finest creation +of the ages. A young and healthy girl, the most perfect type of culture +possible to the freest and greatest city on earth—New York! She holds +absolutely an unreal, untrue position in the scheme of existence. Surrounded by +parents, relatives, friends, suitors, and instructive schools of every kind, +colleges, institutions, is she really happy, is she really living?” +</p> + +<p> +“Eleanor,” interrupted Carley, earnestly, “she is +<i>not</i>.... And I’ve been trying to tell you why.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, let me get a word in, will you,” complained Eleanor. +“You don’t know it all. There are as many different points of view +as there are people.... Well, if this girl happened to have a new frock, and a +new beau to show it to, she’d say, ‘I’m the happiest girl in +the world.’ But she is nothing of the kind. Only she doesn’t know +that. She approaches marriage, or, for that matter, a more matured life, having +had too much, having been too well taken care of, <i>knowing too much</i>. Her +masculine satellites—father, brothers, uncles, friends, lovers—all +utterly spoil her. Mind you, I mean, girls like us, of the middle +class—which is to say the largest and best class of Americans. We are +spoiled.... This girl marries. And life goes on smoothly, as if its aim was to +exclude friction and effort. Her husband makes it too easy for her. She is an +ornament, or a toy, to be kept in a luxurious cage. To soil her pretty hands +would be disgraceful! Even if she can’t afford a maid, the modern devices +of science make the care of her four-room apartment a farce. Electric +dish-washer, clothes-washer, vacuum-cleaner, and the near-by delicatessen and +the caterer simply rob a young wife of her housewifely heritage. If she has a +baby—which happens occasionally, Carley, in spite of your +assertion—it very soon goes to the kindergarten. Then what does she find +to do with hours and hours? If she is not married, what on earth <i>can</i> she +find to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“She can work,” replied Carley, bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, she can, but she doesn’t,” went on Eleanor. +“<i>You</i> don’t work. I never did. We both hated the idea. +You’re calling spades spades, Carley, but you seem to be riding a morbid, +impractical thesis. Well, our young American girl or bride goes in for being +rushed or she goes in for fads, the ultra stuff you mentioned. New York City +gets all the great artists, lecturers, and surely the great fakirs. The New +York women support them. The men laugh, but they furnish the money. They take +the women to the theaters, but they cut out the reception to a Polish princess, +a lecture by an Indian magician and mystic, or a benefit luncheon for a Home +for Friendless Cats. The truth is most of our young girls or brides have a +wonderful enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. What is to become of their +surplus energy, the bottled-lightning spirit so characteristic of modern girls? +Where is the outlet for intense feelings? What use can they make of education +or of gifts? They just can’t, that’s all. I’m not taking into +consideration the new-woman species, the faddist or the reformer. I mean normal +girls like you and me. Just think, Carley. A girl’s every wish, every +need, is almost instantly satisfied without the slightest effort on her part to +obtain it. No struggle, let alone work! If women crave to achieve something +outside of the arts, you know, something universal and helpful which will make +men acknowledge her worth, if not the equality, where is the +opportunity?” +</p> + +<p> +“Opportunities should be <i>made</i>,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“There are a million sides to this question of the modern young +woman—the <i>fin-de-siècle</i> girl. I’m for her!” +</p> + +<p> +“How about the extreme of style in dress for this remarkably-to-be-pitied +American girl you champion so eloquently?” queried Carley, sarcastically. +</p> + +<p> +“Immoral!” exclaimed Eleanor with frank disgust. +</p> + +<p> +“You admit it?” +</p> + +<p> +“To my shame, I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do women wear extreme clothes? Why do you and I wear open-work silk +stockings, skirts to our knees, gowns without sleeves or bodices?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re slaves to fashion,” replied Eleanor, +“That’s the popular excuse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” exclaimed Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Eleanor laughed in spite of being half nettled. “Are you going to stop +wearing what all the other women wear—and be looked at askance? Are you +going to be dowdy and frumpy and old-fashioned?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. But I’ll never wear anything again that can be called immoral. +I want to be able to say <i>why</i> I wear a dress. You haven’t answered +my question yet. Why do you wear what you frankly admit is disgusting?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, Carley,” replied Eleanor, helplessly. +“How you harp on things! We must dress to make other women jealous and to +attract men. To be a sensation! Perhaps the word ‘immoral’ is not +what I mean. A woman will be shocking in her obsession to attract, but hardly +more than that, if she knows it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! So few women realize how they actually do look. Haze Ruff could tell +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haze Ruff. Who in the world is he or she?” asked Eleanor. +</p> + +<p> +“Haze Ruff is a he, all right,” replied Carley, grimly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, who is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“A sheep-dipper in Arizona,” answered Carley, dreamily. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph! And what can Mr. Ruff tell us?” +</p> + +<p> +“He told <i>me</i> I looked like one of the devil’s +angels—and that I dressed to knock the daylights out of men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Carley Burch, if that isn’t rich!” exclaimed Eleanor, +with a peal of laughter. “I dare say you appreciate that as an original +compliment.” +</p> + +<p> +“No.... I wonder what Ruff would say about jazz—I just +wonder,” murmured Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wouldn’t care what he said, and I don’t care what +<i>you</i> say,” returned Eleanor. “The preachers and reformers and +bishops and rabbis make me sick. They rave about jazz. Jazz—the +discordant note of our decadence! Jazz—the harmonious expression of our +musicless, mindless, soulless materialism!—The idiots! If they could be +women for a while they would realize the error of their ways. But they will +never, never abolish jazz—<i>never</i>, for it is the grandest, the most +wonderful, the most absolutely necessary thing for women in this terrible age +of smotheration.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not +agree,” said Carley. “You leave the future of women to chance, to +life, to materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it to +free will and idealism.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, you are getting a little beyond me,” declared Eleanor, +dubiously. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to <i>do?</i> It all comes home to each individual +woman. Her attitude toward life.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good +sport,” replied Eleanor, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t care about the women and children of the future? +You’ll not deny yourself now, and think and work, and suffer a little, in +the interest of future humanity?” +</p> + +<p> +“How you put things, Carley!” exclaimed Eleanor, wearily. “Of +course I care—when you make me think of such things. But what have +<i>I</i> to do with the lives of people in the years to come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything. America for Americans! While you dawdle, the life blood is +being sucked out of our great nation. It is a man’s job to fight; it is a +woman’s to save.... I think you’ve made your choice, though you +don’t realize it. I’m praying to God that I’ll rise to +mine.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Carley had a visitor one morning earlier than the usual or conventional time +for calls. +</p> + +<p> +“He wouldn’t give no name,” said the maid. “He wears +soldier clothes, ma’am, and he’s pale, and walks with a +cane.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him I’ll be right down,” replied Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Her hands trembled while she hurriedly dressed. Could this caller be Virgil +Rust? She hoped so, but she doubted. +</p> + +<p> +As she entered the parlor a tall young man in worn khaki rose to meet her. At +first glance she could not name him, though she recognized the pale face and +light-blue eyes, direct and steady. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, Miss Burch,” he said. “I hope you’ll +excuse so early a call. You remember me, don’t you? I’m George +Burton, who had the bunk next to Rust’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely I remember you, Mr. Burton, and I’m glad to see you,” +replied Carley, shaking hands with him. “Please sit down. Your being here +must mean you’re discharged from the hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I was discharged, all right,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Which means you’re well again. That is fine. I’m very +glad.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was put out to make room for a fellow in bad shape. I’m still +shaky and weak,” he replied. “But I’m glad to go. I’ve +pulled through pretty good, and it’ll not be long until I’m strong +again. It was the ‘flu’ that kept me down.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must be careful. May I ask where you’re going and what you +expect to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s what I came to tell you,” he replied, frankly. +“I want you to help me a little. I’m from Illinois and my people +aren’t so badly off. But I don’t want to go back to my home town +down and out, you know. Besides, the winters are cold there. The doctor advises +me to go to a little milder climate. You see, I was gassed, and got the +‘flu’ afterward. But I know I’ll be all right if I’m +careful.... Well, I’ve always had a leaning toward agriculture, and I +want to go to Kansas. Southern Kansas. I want to travel around till I find a +place I like, and there I’ll get a job. Not too hard a job at +first—that’s why I’ll need a little money. I know what to do. +I want to lose myself in the wheat country and forget the—the war. +I’ll not be afraid of work, presently.... Now, Miss Burch, you’ve +been so kind—I’m going to ask you to lend me a little money. +I’ll pay it back. I can’t promise just when. But some day. Will +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Assuredly I will,” she replied, heartily. “I’m happy +to have the opportunity to help you. How much will you need for immediate use? +Five hundred dollars?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, not so much as that,” he replied. “Just railroad fare +home, and then to Kansas, and to pay board while I get well, you know, and look +around.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll make it five hundred, anyway,” she replied, and, +rising, she went toward the library. “Excuse me a moment.” She +wrote the check and, returning, gave it to him. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very good,” he said, rather low. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” replied Carley. “You have no idea how much it +means to me to be permitted to help you. Before I forget, I must ask you, can +you cash that check here in New York?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless you identify me,” he said, ruefully, “I +don’t know anyone I could ask.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, when you leave here go at once to my bank—it’s on +Thirty-fourth Street—and I’ll telephone the cashier. So +you’ll not have any difficulty. Will you leave New York at once?” +</p> + +<p> +“I surely will. It’s an awful place. Two years ago when I came here +with my company I thought it was grand. But I guess I lost something over +there. ... I want to be where it’s quiet. Where I won’t see many +people.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I understand,” returned Carley. “Then I suppose +you’re in a hurry to get home? Of course you have a girl you’re +just dying to see?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m sorry to say I haven’t,” he replied, simply. +“I was glad I didn’t have to leave a sweetheart behind, when I went +to France. But it wouldn’t be so bad to have one to go back to +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you worry!” exclaimed Carley. “You can take your +choice presently. You have the open sesame to every real American girl’s +heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is that?” he asked, with a blush. +</p> + +<p> +“Your service to your country,” she said, gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, with a singular bluntness, “considering I +didn’t get any medals or bonuses, I’d like to draw a nice +girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will,” replied Carley, and made haste to change the subject. +“By the way, did you meet Glenn Kilbourne in France?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not that I remember,” rejoined Burton, as he got up, rising rather +stiffly by aid of his cane. “I must go, Miss Burch. Really I can’t +thank you enough. And I’ll never forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you write me how you are getting along?” asked Carley, +offering her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley moved with him out into the hall and to the door. There was a question +she wanted to ask, but found it strangely difficult of utterance. At the door +Burton fixed a rather penetrating gaze upon her. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t ask me about Rust,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I—I didn’t think of him—until now, in fact,” +Carley lied. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course then you couldn’t have heard about him. I was +wondering.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was Rust who told me to come to you,” said Burton. “We +were talking one day, and he—well, he thought you were true blue. He said +he knew you’d trust me and lend me money. I couldn’t have asked you +but for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“True blue! He believed that. I’m glad.... Has he spoken of me to +you since I was last at the hospital?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly,” replied Burton, with the straight, strange glance on her +again. +</p> + +<p> +Carley met this glance and suddenly a coldness seemed to envelop her. It did +not seem to come from within though her heart stopped beating. Burton had not +changed—the warmth, the gratitude still lingered about him. But the light +of his eyes! Carley had seen it in Glenn’s, in Rust’s—a +strange, questioning, far-off light, infinitely aloof and unutterably sad. Then +there came a lift of her heart that released a pang. She whispered with dread, +with a tremor, with an instinct of calamity. +</p> + +<p> +“How about—Rust?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s dead.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +The winter came, with its bleak sea winds and cold rains and blizzards of snow. +Carley did not go South. She read and brooded, and gradually avoided all save +those true friends who tolerated her. +</p> + +<p> +She went to the theater a good deal, showing preference for the drama of +strife, and she did not go anywhere for amusement. Distraction and amusement +seemed to be dead issues for her. But she could become absorbed in any argument +on the good or evil of the present day. Socialism reached into her mind, to be +rejected. She had never understood it clearly, but it seemed to her a state of +mind where dissatisfied men and women wanted to share what harder working or +more gifted people possessed. There were a few who had too much of the +world’s goods and many who had too little. A readjustment of such +inequality and injustice must come, but Carley did not see the remedy in +Socialism. +</p> + +<p> +She devoured books on the war with a morbid curiosity and hope that she would +find some illuminating truth as to the uselessness of sacrificing young men in +the glory and prime of their lives. To her war appeared a matter of human +nature rather than politics. Hate really was an effect of war. In her judgment +future wars could be avoided only in two ways—by men becoming honest and +just or by women refusing to have children to be sacrificed. As there seemed no +indication whatever of the former, she wondered how soon all women of all races +would meet on a common height, with the mounting spirit that consumed her own +heart. Such time must come. She granted every argument for war and flung +against it one ringing passionate truth—agony of mangled soldiers and +agony of women and children. There was no justification for offensive war. It +was monstrous and hideous. If nature and evolution proved the absolute need of +strife, war, blood, and death in the progress of animal and man toward +perfection, then it would be better to abandon this Christless code and let the +race of man die out. +</p> + +<p> +All through these weeks she longed for a letter from Glenn. But it did not +come. Had he finally roused to the sweetness and worth and love of the western +girl, Flo Hutter? Carley knew absolutely, through both intelligence and +intuition, that Glenn Kilbourne would never love Flo. Yet such was her +intensity and stress at times, especially in the darkness of waking hours, that +jealousy overcame her and insidiously worked its havoc. Peace and a strange +kind of joy came to her in dreams of her walks and rides and climbs in Arizona, +of the lonely canyon where it always seemed afternoon, of the tremendous +colored vastness of that Painted Desert. But she resisted these dreams now +because when she awoke from them she suffered such a yearning that it became +unbearable. Then she knew the feeling of the loneliness and solitude of the +hills. Then she knew the sweetness of the murmur of falling water, the wind in +the pines, the song of birds, the white radiance of the stars, the break of day +and its gold-flushed close. But she had not yet divined their meaning. It was +not all love for Glenn Kilbourne. Had city life palled upon her solely because +of the absence of her lover? So Carley plodded on, like one groping in the +night, fighting shadows. +</p> + +<p> +One day she received a card from an old schoolmate, a girl who had married out +of Carley’s set, and had been ostracized. She was living down on Long +Island, at a little country place named Wading River. Her husband was an +electrician—something of an inventor. He worked hard. A baby boy had just +come to them. Would not Carley run down on the train to see the youngster? +</p> + +<p> +That was a strong and trenchant call. Carley went. She found indeed a country +village, and on the outskirts of it a little cottage that must have been pretty +in summer, when the green was on vines and trees. Her old schoolmate was rosy, +plump, bright-eyed, and happy. She saw in Carley no change—a fact that +somehow rebounded sweetly on Carley’s consciousness. Elsie prattled of +herself and her husband and how they had worked to earn this little home, and +then the baby. +</p> + +<p> +When Carley saw the adorable dark-eyed, pink-toed, curly-fisted baby she +understood Elsie’s happiness and reveled in it. When she felt the soft, +warm, living little body in her arms, against her breast, then she absorbed +some incalculable and mysterious strength. What were the trivial, sordid, and +selfish feelings that kept her in tumult compared to this welling emotion? Had +she the secret in her arms? Babies and Carley had never become closely +acquainted in those infrequent meetings that were usually the result of chance. +But Elsie’s baby nestled to her breast and cooed to her and clung to her +finger. When at length the youngster was laid in his crib it seemed to Carley +that the fragrance and the soul of him remained with her. +</p> + +<p> +“A real American boy!” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“You can just bet he is,” replied Elsie. “Carley, you ought +to see his dad.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to meet him,” said Carley, thoughtfully. +“Elsie, was he in the service?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He was on one of the navy transports that took munitions to France. +Think of me, carrying this baby, with my husband on a boat full of explosives +and with German submarines roaming the ocean! Oh, it was horrible!” +</p> + +<p> +“But he came back, and now all’s well with you,” said Carley, +with a smile of earnestness. “I’m very glad, Elsie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—but I shudder when I think of a possible war in the future. +I’m going to raise boys, and girls, too, I hope—and the thought of +war is torturing.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley found her return train somewhat late, and she took advantage of the +delay to walk out to the wooded headlands above the Sound. +</p> + +<p> +It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray sky. +Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places. This bit of woodland had a +floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley’s feet. There were sere and +brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks. At length Carley came out on +the edge of the bluff with the gray expanse of sea beneath her, and a long +wandering shore line, ragged with wreckage or driftwood. The surge of water +rolled in—a long, low, white, creeping line that softly roared on the +beach and dragged the pebbles gratingly back. There was neither boat nor living +creature in sight. +</p> + +<p> +Carley felt the scene ease a clutching hand within her breast. Here was +loneliness and solitude vastly different from that of Oak Creek Canyon, yet it +held the same intangible power to soothe. The swish of the surf, the moan of +the wind in the evergreens, were voices that called to her. How many more miles +of lonely land than peopled cities! Then the sea—how vast! And over that +the illimitable and infinite sky, and beyond, the endless realms of space. It +helped her somehow to see and hear and feel the eternal presence of nature. In +communion with nature the significance of life might be realized. She +remembered Glenn quoting: “The world is too much with us. ... Getting and +spending, we lay waste our powers.” What were our powers? What did God +intend men to do with hands and bodies and gifts and souls? She gazed back over +the bleak land and then out across the broad sea. Only a millionth part of the +surface of the unsubmerged earth knew the populous abodes of man. And the +lonely sea, inhospitable to stable homes of men, was thrice the area of the +land. Were men intended, then, to congregate in few places, to squabble and to +bicker and breed the discontents that led to injustice, hatred, and war? What a +mystery it all was! But Nature was neither false nor little, however cruel she +might be. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal. Wavering now, restless and +sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of apathy, she was wearing +to defeat. +</p> + +<p> +That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for Arizona, she +wished to spend alone. But her thoughts grew unbearable. She summed up the +endless year. Could she live another like it? Something must break within her. +</p> + +<p> +She went out. The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current which +caused the mild madness of spring fever. In the Park the greening of the grass, +the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness of children, the light +on the water, the warm sun—all seemed to reproach her. Carley fled from +the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; and there, unhappily, she encountered +those of her acquaintance with whom she had least patience. They forced her to +think too keenly of herself. They appeared carefree while she was miserable. +</p> + +<p> +Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism. When Carley +entered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces,” called out Geralda +Conners, a fair, handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the +latest mode, and whose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one of +health. +</p> + +<p> +“Say what, Geralda?” asked Carley. “I certainly would not say +anything behind your backs that I wouldn’t repeat here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up.” +</p> + +<p> +“We did have an argument. And I’m not sure I said all I wanted +to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say the rest here,” drawled a lazy, mellow voice. “For +Heaven’s sake, stir us up. If I could get a kick out of <i>anything</i> +I’d bless it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Carley, go on the stage,” advised another. “You’ve got +Elsie Ferguson tied to the mast for looks. And lately you’re surely +tragic enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you’d go somewhere far off!” observed a third. +“My husband is dippy about you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in your +heads?” retorted Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Sensible? I should hope not. Who wants to be sensible?” +</p> + +<p> +Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer. “Listen,” she called. +“I wasn’t kidding Carley. I am good and sore. She goes around +knocking everybody and saying New York backs Sodom off the boards. I want her +to come out with it right here.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say I’ve talked too much,” returned Carley. +“It’s been a rather hard winter on me. Perhaps, indeed, I’ve +tried the patience of my friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Carley,” said Geralda, deliberately, “just because +you’ve had life turn to bitter ashes in your mouth you’ve no right +to poison it for us. We all find it pretty sweet. You’re an +<i>un</i>satisfied woman and if you don’t marry somebody you’ll end +by being a reformer or fanatic.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d rather end that way than rot in a shell,” retorted +Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“I declare, you make me see red, Carley,” flashed Geralda, angrily. +“No wonder Morrison roasts you to everybody. He says Glenn Kilbourne +threw you down for some Western girl. If that’s true it’s pretty +small of you to vent your spleen on us.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda Conners was +nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no spleen,” she replied, with a dignity of passion. +“I have only pity. I was as blind as you. If heartbreak tore the scales +from my eyes, perhaps that is well for me. For I see something terribly wrong +in myself, in you, in all of us, in the life of today.” +</p> + +<p> +“You keep your pity to yourself. You need it,” answered Geralda, +with heat. “There’s nothing wrong with me or my friends or life in +good old New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing wrong!” cried Carley. “Listen. Nothing wrong in you +or life today—nothing for you women to make right? You are blind as +bats—as dead to living truth as if you were buried. Nothing wrong when +thousands of crippled soldiers have no homes—no money—no +friends—no work—in many cases no food or bed?... Splendid young men +who went away in their prime to fight for <i>you</i> and came back ruined, +suffering! Nothing wrong when sane women with the vote might rid politics of +partisanship, greed, crookedness? Nothing wrong when prohibition is mocked by +women—when the greatest boon ever granted this country is derided and +beaten down and cheated? Nothing wrong when there are half a million defective +children in this city? Nothing wrong when there are not enough schools and +teachers to educate our boys and girls, when those teachers are shamefully +underpaid? Nothing wrong when the mothers of this great country let their +youngsters go to the dark motion picture halls and night after night in +thousands of towns over all this broad land see pictures that the juvenile +court and the educators and keepers of reform schools say make burglars, +crooks, and murderers of our boys and vampires of our girls? Nothing wrong when +these young adolescent girls ape <i>you</i> and wear stockings rolled under +their knees below their skirts and use a lip stick and paint their faces and +darken their eyes and pluck their eyebrows and absolutely do not know what +shame is? Nothing wrong when you may find in any city women standing at street +corners distributing booklets on birth control? Nothing wrong when great +magazines print no page or picture without its sex appeal? Nothing wrong when +the automobile, so convenient for the innocent little run out of town, presents +the greatest evil that ever menaced American girls! Nothing wrong when money is +god—when luxury, pleasure, excitement, speed are the striven for? Nothing +wrong when some of your husbands spend more of their time with other women than +with you? Nothing wrong with jazz—where the lights go out in the dance +hall and the dancers jiggle and toddle and wiggle in a frenzy? Nothing wrong in +a country where the greatest college cannot report birth of one child to each +graduate in ten years? Nothing wrong with race suicide and the incoming horde +of foreigners?... Nothing wrong with you women who cannot or will not stand +childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of you, when if you <i>did</i> have a +child, you could not nurse it?... Oh, my God, there’s nothing wrong with +America except that she staggers under a Titanic burden that only mothers of +sons can remove!... You doll women, you parasites, you toys of men, you +silken-wrapped geisha girls, you painted, idle, purring cats, you parody of the +females of your species—find brains enough if you can to see the doom +hanging over you and revolt before it is too late!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"></a> +CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p> +Carley burst in upon her aunt. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at me, Aunt Mary!” she cried, radiant and exultant. +“I’m going back out West to marry Glenn and live his life!” +</p> + +<p> +The keen old eyes of her aunt softened and dimmed. “Dear Carley, +I’ve known that for a long time. You’ve found yourself at +last.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Carley breathlessly babbled her hastily formed plans, every word of which +seemed to rush her onward. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to surprise Glenn again?” queried Aunt Mary. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I must! I want to see his face when I tell him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I hope he won’t surprise <i>you</i>,” declared the old +lady. “When did you hear from him last?” +</p> + +<p> +“In January. It seems ages—but—Aunt Mary, you don’t +imagine Glenn—” +</p> + +<p> +“I imagine nothing,” interposed her aunt. “It will turn out +happily and I’ll have some peace in my old age. But, Carley, what’s +to become of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I never thought!” replied Carley, blankly. “It will be +lonely for you. Auntie, I’ll come back in the fall for a few weeks. Glenn +will let me.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Let</i> you? Ye gods! So you’ve come to that? Imperious Carley +Burch!... Thank Heaven, you’ll now be satisfied to be let do +things.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d—I’d crawl for him,” breathed Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, child, as you can’t be practical, I’ll have to +be,” replied Aunt Mary, seriously. “Fortunately for you I am a +woman of quick decision. Listen. I’ll go West with you. I want to see the +Grand Canyon. Then I’ll go on to California, where I have old friends +I’ve not seen for years. When you get your new home all fixed up +I’ll spend awhile with you. And if I want to come back to New York now +and then I’ll go to a hotel. It is settled. I think the change will +benefit me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Auntie, you make me very happy. I could ask no more,” said Carley. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Swiftly as endless tasks could make them the days passed. But those on the +train dragged interminably. +</p> + +<p> +Carley sent her aunt through to the Canyon while she stopped off at Flagstaff +to store innumerable trunks and bags. The first news she heard of Glenn and the +Hutters was that they had gone to the Tonto Basin to buy hogs and would be +absent at least a month. This gave birth to a new plan in Carley’s mind. +She would doubly surprise Glenn. Wherefore she took council with some Flagstaff +business men and engaged them to set a force of men at work on the Deep Lake +property, making the improvements she desired, and hauling lumber, cement, +bricks, machinery, supplies—all the necessaries for building +construction. Also she instructed them to throw up a tent house for her to live +in during the work, and to engage a reliable Mexican man with his wife for +servants. When she left for the Canyon she was happier than ever before in her +life. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +It was near the coming of sunset when Carley first looked down into the Grand +Canyon. She had forgotten Glenn’s tribute to this place. In her rapturous +excitement of preparation and travel the Canyon had been merely a name. But now +she saw it and she was stunned. +</p> + +<p> +What a stupendous chasm, gorgeous in sunset color on the heights, purpling into +mystic shadows in the depths! There was a wonderful brightness of all the +millions of red and yellow and gray surfaces still exposed to the sun. Carley +did not feel a thrill, because feeling seemed inhibited. She looked and looked, +yet was reluctant to keep on looking. She possessed no image in mind with which +to compare this grand and mystic spectacle. A transformation of color and shade +appeared to be going on swiftly, as if gods were changing the scenes of a +Titanic stage. As she gazed the dark fringed line of the north rim turned to +burnished gold, and she watched that with fascinated eyes. It turned rose, it +lost its fire, it faded to quiet cold gray. The sun had set. +</p> + +<p> +Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim. There was a sweet tang +of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance peculiar to the +canyon country of Arizona. How it brought back to Carley remembrance of Oak +Creek! In the west, across the purple notches of the abyss, a dull gold flare +showed where the sun had gone down. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning at eight o’clock there were great irregular black shadows +under the domes and peaks and escarpments. Bright Angel Canyon was all dark, +showing dimly its ragged lines. At noon there were no shadows and all the +colossal gorge lay glaring under the sun. In the evening Carley watched the +Canyon as again the sun was setting. +</p> + +<p> +Deep dark-blue shadows, like purple sails of immense ships, in wonderful +contrast with the bright sunlit slopes, grew and rose toward the east, down the +canyons and up the walls that faced the west. For a long while there was no red +color, and the first indication of it was a dull bronze. Carley looked down +into the void, at the sailing birds, at the precipitous slopes, and the dwarf +spruces and the weathered old yellow cliffs. When she looked up again the +shadows out there were no longer dark. They were clear. The slopes and depths +and ribs of rock could be seen through them. Then the tips of the highest peaks +and domes turned bright red. Far to the east she discerned a strange shadow, +slowly turning purple. One instant it grew vivid, then began to fade. Soon +after that all the colors darkened and slowly the pale gray stole over all. +</p> + +<p> +At night Carley gazed over and into the black void. But for the awful sense of +depth she would not have known the Canyon to be there. A soundless movement of +wind passed under her. The chasm seemed a grave of silence. It was as +mysterious as the stars and as aloof and as inevitable. It had held her senses +of beauty and proportion in abeyance. +</p> + +<p> +At another sunrise the crown of the rim, a broad belt of bare rock, turned pale +gold under its fringed dark line of pines. The tips of the peak gleamed opal. +There was no sunrise red, no fire. The light in the east was a pale gold under +a steely green-blue sky. All the abyss of the Canyon was soft, gray, +transparent, and the belt of gold broadened downward, making shadows on the +west slopes of the mesas and escarpments. Far down in the shadows she discerned +the river, yellow, turgid, palely gleaming. By straining her ears Carley heard +a low dull roar as of distant storm. She stood fearfully at the extreme edge of +a stupendous cliff, where it sheered dark and forbidding, down and down, into +what seemed red and boundless depths of Hades. She saw gold spots of sunlight +on the dark shadows, proving that somewhere, impossible to discover, the sun +was shining through wind-worn holes in the sharp ridges. Every instant Carley +grasped a different effect. Her studied gaze absorbed an endless changing. And +at last she realized that sun and light and stars and moon and night and shade, +all working incessantly and mutably over shapes and lines and angles and +surfaces too numerous and too great for the sight of man to hold, made an +ever-changing spectacle of supreme beauty and colorful grandeur. +</p> + +<p> +She talked very little while at the Canyon. It silenced her. She had come to +see it at the critical time of her life and in the right mood. The +superficialities of the world shrunk to their proper insignificance. Once she +asked her aunt: “Why did not Glenn bring me here?” As if this +Canyon proved the nature of all things! +</p> + +<p> +But in the end Carley found that the rending strife of the transformation of +her attitude toward life had insensibly ceased. It had ceased during the long +watching of this cataclysm of nature, this canyon of gold-banded black-fringed +ramparts, and red-walled mountains which sloped down to be lost in purple +depths. That was final proof of the strength of nature to soothe, to clarify, +to stabilize the tried and weary and upward-gazing soul. Stronger than the +recorded deeds of saints, stronger than the eloquence of the gifted uplifters +of men, stronger than any words ever written, was the grand, brooding, +sculptured aspect of nature. And it must have been so because thousands of +years before the age of saints or preachers—before the fret and symbol +and figure were cut in stone—man must have watched with +thought-developing sight the wonders of the earth, the monuments of time, the +glooming of the dark-blue sea, the handiwork of God. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +In May, Carley returned to Flagstaff to take up with earnest inspiration the +labors of homebuilding in a primitive land. +</p> + +<p> +It required two trucks to transport her baggage and purchases out to Deep Lake. +The road was good for eighteen miles of the distance, until it branched off to +reach her land, and from there it was desert rock and sand. But eventually they +made it; and Carley found herself and belongings dumped out into the windy and +sunny open. The moment was singularly thrilling and full of transport. She was +free. She had shaken off the shackles. She faced lonely, wild, barren desert +that must be made habitable by the genius of her direction and the labor of her +hands. Always a thought of Glenn hovered tenderly, dreamily in the back of her +consciousness, but she welcomed the opportunity to have a few weeks of work and +activity and solitude before taking up her life with him. She wanted to adapt +herself to the metamorphosis that had been wrought in her. +</p> + +<p> +To her amazement and delight, a very considerable progress had been made with +her plans. Under a sheltered red cliff among the cedars had been erected the +tents where she expected to live until the house was completed. These tents +were large, with broad floors high off the ground, and there were four of them. +Her living tent had a porch under a wide canvas awning. The bed was a boxlike +affair, raised off the floor two feet, and it contained a great, fragrant mass +of cedar boughs upon which the blankets were to be spread. At one end was a +dresser with large mirror, and a chiffonier. There were table and lamp, a low +rocking chair, a shelf for books, a row of hooks upon which to hang things, a +washstand with its necessary accessories, a little stove and a neat stack of +cedar chips and sticks. Navajo rugs on the floor lent brightness and comfort. +</p> + +<p> +Carley heard the rustling of cedar branches over her head, and saw where they +brushed against the tent roof. It appeared warm and fragrant inside, and +protected from the wind, and a subdued white light filtered through the canvas. +Almost she felt like reproving herself for the comfort surrounding her. For she +had come West to welcome the hard knocks of primitive life. +</p> + +<p> +It took less than an hour to have her trunks stored in one of the spare tents, +and to unpack clothes and necessaries for immediate use. Carley donned the +comfortable and somewhat shabby outdoor garb she had worn at Oak Creek the year +before; and it seemed to be the last thing needed to make her fully realize the +glorious truth of the present. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m here,” she said to her pale, yet happy face in the +mirror. “The impossible has happened. I have accepted Glenn’s life. +I have answered that strange call out of the West.” +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to throw herself on the sunlit woolly blankets of her bed and hug +them, to think and think of the bewildering present happiness, to dream of the +future, but she could not lie or sit still, nor keep her mind from grasping at +actualities and possibilities of this place, nor her hands from itching to do +things. +</p> + +<p> +It developed, presently, that she could not have idled away the time even if +she had wanted to, for the Mexican woman came for her, with smiling +gesticulation and jabber that manifestly meant dinner. Carley could not +understand many Mexican words, and herein she saw another task. This swarthy +woman and her sloe-eyed husband favorably impressed Carley. +</p> + +<p> +Next to claim her was Hoyle, the superintendent. “Miss Burch,” he +said, “in the early days we could run up a log cabin in a jiffy. Axes, +horses, strong arms, and a few pegs—that was all we needed. But this +house you’ve planned is different. It’s good you’ve come to +take the responsibility.” +</p> + +<p> +Carley had chosen the site for her home on top of the knoll where Glenn had +taken her to show her the magnificent view of mountains and desert. Carley +climbed it now with beating heart and mingled emotions. A thousand times +already that day, it seemed, she had turned to gaze up at the noble white-clad +peaks. They were closer now, apparently looming over her, and she felt a great +sense of peace and protection in the thought that they would always be there. +But she had not yet seen the desert that had haunted her for a year. When she +reached the summit of the knoll and gazed out across the open space it seemed +that she must stand spellbound. How green the cedared foreground—how gray +and barren the downward slope—how wonderful the painted steppes! The +vision that had lived in her memory shrank to nothingness. The reality was +immense, more than beautiful, appalling in its isolation, beyond comprehension +with its lure and strength to uplift. +</p> + +<p> +But the superintendent drew her attention to the business at hand. +</p> + +<p> +Carley had planned an L-shaped house of one story. Some of her ideas appeared +to be impractical, and these she abandoned. The framework was up and half a +dozen carpenters were lustily at work with saw and hammer. +</p> + +<p> +“We’d made better progress if this house was in an ordinary +place,” explained Hoyle. “But you see the wind blows here, so the +framework had to be made as solid and strong as possible. In fact, it’s +bolted to the sills.” +</p> + +<p> +Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted Desert +could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole of the San +Francisco Mountains. Both rooms were to have open fireplaces. Carley’s +idea was for service and durability. She thought of comfort in the severe +winters of that high latitude, but elegance and luxury had no more significance +in her life. +</p> + +<p> +Hoyle made his suggestions as to changes and adaptations, and, receiving her +approval, he went on to show her what had been already accomplished. Back on +higher ground a reservoir of concrete was being constructed near an +ever-flowing spring of snow water from the peaks. This water was being piped by +gravity to the house, and was a matter of greatest satisfaction to Hoyle, for +he claimed that it would never freeze in winter, and would be cold and abundant +during the hottest and driest of summers. This assurance solved the most +difficult and serious problem of ranch life in the desert. +</p> + +<p> +Next Hoyle led Carley down off the knoll to the wide cedar valley adjacent to +the lake. He was enthusiastic over its possibilities. Two small corrals and a +large one had been erected, the latter having a low flat barn connected with +it. Ground was already being cleared along the lake where alfalfa and hay were +to be raised. Carley saw the blue and yellow smoke from burning brush, and the +fragrant odor thrilled her. Mexicans were chopping the cleared cedars into +firewood for winter use. +</p> + +<p> +The day was spent before she realized it. At sunset the carpenters and +mechanics left in two old Ford cars for town. The Mexicans had a camp in the +cedars, and the Hoyles had theirs at the spring under the knoll where Carley +had camped with Glenn and the Hutters. Carley watched the golden rosy sunset, +and as the day ended she breathed deeply as if in unutterable relief. Supper +found her with appetite she had long since lost. Twilight brought cold wind, +the staccato bark of coyotes, the flicker of camp fires through the cedars. She +tried to embrace all her sensations, but they were so rapid and many that she +failed. +</p> + +<p> +The cold, clear, silent night brought back the charm of the desert. How flaming +white the stars! The great spire-pointed peaks lifted cold pale-gray outlines +up into the deep star-studded sky. Carley walked a little to and fro, loath to +go to her tent, though tired. She wanted calm. But instead of achieving +calmness she grew more and more towards a strange state of exultation. +</p> + +<p> +Westward, only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, lay the deep rent in the +level desert—Oak Creek Canyon. If Glenn had been there this night would +have been perfect, yet almost unendurable. She was again grateful for his +absence. What a surprise she had in store for him! And she imagined his face in +its change of expression when she met him. If only he never learned of her +presence in Arizona until she made it known in person! That she most longed +for. Chances were against it, but then her luck had changed. She looked to the +eastward where a pale luminosity of afterglow shone in the heavens. Far distant +seemed the home of her childhood, the friends she had scorned and forsaken, the +city of complaining and striving millions. If only some miracle might illumine +the minds of her friends, as she felt that hers was to be illumined here in the +solitude. But she well realized that not all problems could be solved by a call +out of the West. Any open and lonely land that might have saved Glenn Kilbourne +would have sufficed for her. It was the spirit of the thing and not the letter. +It was work of any kind and not only that of ranch life. Not only the raising +of hogs! +</p> + +<p> +Carley directed stumbling steps toward the light of her tent. Her eyes had not +been used to such black shadow along the ground. She had, too, squeamish +feminine fears of hydrophobia skunks, and nameless animals or reptiles that +were imagined denizens of the darkness. She gained her tent and entered. The +Mexican, Gino, as he called himself, had lighted her lamp and fire. Carley was +chilled through, and the tent felt so warm and cozy that she could scarcely +believe it. She fastened the screen door, laced the flaps across it, except at +the top, and then gave herself up to the lulling and comforting heat. +</p> + +<p> +There were plans to perfect; innumerable things to remember; a car and +accessories, horses, saddles, outfits to buy. Carley knew she should sit down +at her table and write and figure, but she could not do it then. +</p> + +<p> +For a long time she sat over the little stove, toasting her knees and hands, +adding some chips now and then to the red coals. And her mind seemed a +kaleidoscope of changing visions, thoughts, feelings. At last she undressed and +blew out the lamp and went to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly a thick blackness seemed to enfold her and silence as of a dead world +settled down upon her. Drowsy as she was, she could not close her eyes nor +refrain from listening. Darkness and silence were tangible things. She felt +them. And they seemed suddenly potent with magic charm to still the tumult of +her, to soothe and rest, to create thoughts she had never thought before. Rest +was more than selfish indulgence. Loneliness was necessary to gain +consciousness of the soul. Already far back in the past seemed Carley’s +other life. +</p> + +<p> +By and by the dead stillness awoke to faint sounds not before perceptible to +her—a low, mournful sough of the wind in the cedars, then the faint +far-distant note of a coyote, sad as the night and infinitely wild. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Days passed. Carley worked in the mornings with her hands and her brains. In +the afternoons she rode and walked and climbed with a double object, to work +herself into fit physical condition and to explore every nook and corner of her +six hundred and forty acres. +</p> + +<p> +Then what she had expected and deliberately induced by her efforts quickly came +to pass. Just as the year before she had suffered excruciating pain from aching +muscles, and saddle blisters, and walking blisters, and a very rending of her +bones, so now she fell victim to them again. In sunshine and rain she faced the +desert. Sunburn and sting of sleet were equally to be endured. And that +abomination, the hateful blinding sandstorm, did not daunt her. But the weary +hours of abnegation to this physical torture at least held one consoling +recompense as compared with her experience of last year, and it was that there +was no one interested to watch for her weaknesses and failures and blunders. +She could fight it out alone. +</p> + +<p> +Three weeks of this self-imposed strenuous training wore by before Carley was +free enough from weariness and pain to experience other sensations. Her general +health, evidently, had not been so good as when she had first visited Arizona. +She caught cold and suffered other ills attendant upon an abrupt change of +climate and condition. But doggedly she kept at her task. She rode when she +should have been in bed; she walked when she should have ridden; she climbed +when she should have kept to level ground. And finally by degrees so gradual as +not to be noticed except in the sum of them she began to mend. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the construction of her house went on with uninterrupted rapidity. +When the low, slanting, wide-eaved roof was completed Carley lost further +concern about rainstorms. Let them come. When the plumbing was all in and +Carley saw verification of Hoyle’s assurance that it would mean a gravity +supply of water ample and continual, she lost her last concern as to the +practicability of the work. That, and the earning of her endurance, seemed to +bring closer a wonderful reward, still nameless and spiritual, that had been +unattainable, but now breathed to her on the fragrant desert wind and in the +brooding silence. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +The time came when each afternoon’s ride or climb called to Carley with +increasing delight. But the fact that she must soon reveal to Glenn her +presence and transformation did not seem to be all the cause. She could ride +without pain, walk without losing her breath, work without blistering her +hands; and in this there was compensation. The building of the house that was +to become a home, the development of water resources and land that meant the +making of a ranch—these did not altogether constitute the anticipation of +content. To be active, to accomplish things, to recall to mind her knowledge of +manual training, of domestic science, of designing and painting, to learn to +cook—these were indeed measures full of reward, but they were not all. In +her wondering, pondering meditation she arrived at the point where she tried to +assign to her love the growing fullness of her life. This, too, splendid and +all-pervading as it was, she had to reject. Some exceedingly illusive and vital +significance of life had insidiously come to Carley. +</p> + +<p> +One afternoon, with the sky full of white and black rolling clouds and a cold +wind sweeping through the cedars, she halted to rest and escape the chilling +gale for a while. In a sunny place, under the lee of a gravel bank, she sought +refuge. It was warm here because of the reflected sunlight and the absence of +wind. The sand at the bottom of the bank held a heat that felt good to her cold +hands. All about her and over her swept the keen wind, rustling the sage, +seeping the sand, swishing the cedars, but she was out of it, protected and +insulated. The sky above showed blue between the threatening clouds. There were +no birds or living creatures in sight. Certainly the place had little of color +or beauty or grace, nor could she see beyond a few rods. Lying there, without +any particular reason that she was conscious of, she suddenly felt shot through +and through with exhilaration. +</p> + +<p> +Another day, the warmest of the spring so far, she rode a Navajo mustang she +had recently bought from a passing trader; and at the farthest end of her +section, in rough wooded and ridged ground she had not explored, she found a +canyon with red walls and pine trees and gleaming streamlet and glades of grass +and jumbles of rock. It was a miniature canyon, to be sure, only a quarter of a +mile long, and as deep as the height of a lofty pine, and so narrow that it +seemed only the width of a lane, but it had all the features of Oak Creek +Canyon, and so sufficed for the exultant joy of possession. She explored it. +The willow brakes and oak thickets harbored rabbits and birds. She saw the +white flags of deer running away down the open. Up at the head where the canyon +boxed she flushed a flock of wild turkeys. They ran like ostriches and flew +like great brown chickens. In a cavern Carley found the den of a bear, and in +another place the bleached bones of a steer. +</p> + +<p> +She lingered here in the shaded depths with a feeling as if she were indeed +lost to the world. These big brown and seamy-barked pines with their spreading +gnarled arms and webs of green needles belonged to her, as also the tiny brook, +the blue bells smiling out of the ferns, the single stalk of mescal on a rocky +ledge. +</p> + +<p> +Never had sun and earth, tree and rock, seemed a part of her being until then. +She would become a sun-worshiper and a lover of the earth. That canyon had +opened there to sky and light for millions of years; and doubtless it had +harbored sheep herders, Indians, cliff dwellers, barbarians. She was a woman +with white skin and a cultivated mind, but the affinity for them existed in +her. She felt it, and that an understanding of it would be good for body and +soul. +</p> + +<p> +Another day she found a little grove of jack pines growing on a flat mesa-like +bluff, the highest point on her land. The trees were small and close together, +mingling their green needles overhead and their discarded brown ones on the +ground. From here Carley could see afar to all points of the compass—the +slow green descent to the south and the climb to the black-timbered distance; +the ridged and canyoned country to the west, red vents choked with green and +rimmed with gray; to the north the grand upflung mountain kingdom crowned with +snow; and to the east the vastness of illimitable space, the openness and +wildness, the chased and beaten mosaic of colored sands and rocks. +</p> + +<p> +Again and again she visited this lookout and came to love its isolation, its +command of wondrous prospects, its power of suggestion to her thoughts. She +became a creative being, in harmony with the live things around her. The great +life-dispensing sun poured its rays down upon her, as if to ripen her; and the +earth seemed warm, motherly, immense with its all-embracing arms. She no longer +plucked the bluebells to press to her face, but leaned to them. Every blade of +gramma grass, with its shining bronze-tufted seed head, had significance for +her. The scents of the desert began to have meaning for her. She sensed within +her the working of a great leveling process through which supreme happiness +would come. +</p> + +<p> +June! The rich, thick, amber light, like a transparent reflection from some +intense golden medium, seemed to float in the warm air. The sky became an azure +blue. In the still noontides, when the bees hummed drowsily and the flies +buzzed, vast creamy-white columnar clouds rolled up from the horizon, like +colossal ships with bulging sails. And summer with its rush of growing things +was at hand. +</p> + +<p> +Carley rode afar, seeking in strange places the secret that eluded her. Only a +few days now until she would ride down to Oak Creek Canyon! There was a low, +singing melody of wind in the cedars. The earth became too beautiful in her +magnified sight. A great truth was dawning upon her—that the sacrifice of +what she had held as necessary to the enjoyment of life—that the strain +of conflict, the labor of hands, the forcing of weary body, the enduring of +pain, the contact with the earth—had served somehow to rejuvenate her +blood, quicken her pulse, intensify her sensorial faculties, thrill her very +soul, lead her into the realm of enchantment. +</p> + +<p> +One afternoon a dull, lead-black-colored cinder knoll tempted her to explore +its bare heights. She rode up until her mustang sank to his knees and could +climb no farther. From there she essayed the ascent on foot. It took labor. But +at last she gained the summit, burning, sweating, panting. +</p> + +<p> +The cinder hill was an extinct crater of a volcano. In the center of it lay a +deep bowl, wondrously symmetrical, and of a dark lusterless hue. Not a blade of +grass was there, nor a plant. Carley conceived a desire to go to the bottom of +this pit. She tried the cinders of the edge of the slope. They had the same +consistency as those of the ascent she had overcome. But here there was a +steeper incline. A tingling rush of daring seemed to drive her over the rounded +rim, and, once started down, it was as if she wore seven-league boots. Fear +left her. Only an exhilarating emotion consumed her. If there were danger, it +mattered not. She strode down with giant steps, she plunged, she started +avalanches to ride them until they stopped, she leaped, and lastly she fell, to +roll over the soft cinders to the pit. +</p> + +<p> +There she lay. It seemed a comfortable resting place. The pit was scarcely six +feet across. She gazed upward and was astounded. How steep was the rounded +slope on all sides! There were no sides; it was a circle. She looked up at a +round lake of deep translucent sky. Such depth of blue, such exquisite rare +color! Carley imagined she could gaze through it to the infinite beyond. +</p> + +<p> +She closed her eyes and rested. Soon the laboring of heart and breath calmed to +normal, so that she could not hear them. Then she lay perfectly motionless. +With eyes shut she seemed still to look, and what she saw was the sunlight +through the blood and flesh of her eyelids. It was red, as rare a hue as the +blue of sky. So piercing did it grow that she had to shade her eyes with her +arm. +</p> + +<p> +Again the strange, rapt glow suffused her body. Never in all her life had she +been so absolutely alone. She might as well have been in her grave. She might +have been dead to all earthy things and reveling in spirit in the glory of the +physical that had escaped her in life. And she abandoned herself to this +influence. +</p> + +<p> +She loved these dry, dusty cinders; she loved the crater here hidden from all +save birds; she loved the desert, the earth—above all, the sun. She was a +product of the earth—a creation of the sun. She had been an infinitesimal +atom of inert something that had quickened to life under the blazing magic of +the sun. Soon her spirit would abandon her body and go on, while her flesh and +bone returned to dust. This frame of hers, that carried the divine spark, +belonged to the earth. She had only been ignorant, mindless, feelingless, +absorbed in the seeking of gain, blind to the truth. She had to give. She had +been created a woman; she belonged to nature; she was nothing save a mother of +the future. She had loved neither Glenn Kilbourne nor life itself. False +education, false standards, false environment had developed her into a woman +who imagined she must feed her body on the milk and honey of indulgence. +</p> + +<p> +She was abased now—woman as animal, though saved and uplifted by her +power of immortality. Transcendental was her female power to link life with the +future. The power of the plant seed, the power of the earth, the heat of the +sun, the inscrutable creation-spirit of nature, almost the divinity of +God—these were all hers because she was a woman. That was the great +secret, aloof so long. That was what had been wrong with life—the woman +blind to her meaning, her power, her mastery. +</p> + +<p> +So she abandoned herself to the woman within her. She held out her arms to the +blue abyss of heaven as if to embrace the universe. She was Nature. She kissed +the dusty cinders and pressed her breast against the warm slope. Her heart +swelled to bursting with a glorious and unutterable happiness. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +That afternoon as the sun was setting under a gold-white scroll of cloud Carley +got back to Deep Lake. +</p> + +<p> +A familiar lounging figure crossed her sight. It approached to where she had +dismounted. Charley, the sheep herder of Oak Creek! +</p> + +<p> +“Howdy!” he drawled, with his queer smile. “So it was you-all +who had this Deep Lake section?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And how are you, Charley?” she replied, shaking hands with +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Me? Aw, I’m tip-top. I’m shore glad you got this ranch. +Reckon I’ll hit you for a job.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d give it to you. But aren’t you working for the +Hutters?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nope. Not any more. Me an’ Stanton had a row with them.” +</p> + +<p> +How droll and dry he was! His lean, olive-brown face, with its guileless clear +eyes and his lanky figure in blue jeans vividly recalled Oak Creek to Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m sorry,” returned she haltingly, somehow checked in +her warm rush of thought. “Stanton?... Did he quit too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yep. He sure did.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was the trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +“Reckon because Flo made up to Kilbourne,” replied Charley, with a +grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I—I see,” murmured Carley. A blankness seemed to wave +over her. It extended to the air without, to the sense of the golden sunset. It +passed. What should she ask—what out of a thousand sudden flashing +queries? “Are—are the Hutters back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure. Been back several days. I reckoned Hoyle told you. Mebbe he +didn’t know, though. For nobody’s been to town.” +</p> + +<p> +“How is—how are they all?” faltered Carley. There was a +strange wall here between her thought and her utterance. +</p> + +<p> +“Everybody satisfied, I reckon,” replied Charley. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo—how is she?” burst out Carley. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, Flo’s loony over her husband,” drawled Charley, his +clear eyes on Carley’s. +</p> + +<p> +“Husband!” she gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure. Flo’s gone an’ went an’ done what I swore +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Who?</i>” whispered Carley, and the query was a terrible blade +piercing her heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Now who’d you reckon on?” asked Charley, with his slow grin. +</p> + +<p> +Carley’s lips were mute. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, it was your old beau thet you wouldn’t have,” returned +Charley, as he gathered up his long frame, evidently to leave. +“Kilbourne! He an’ Flo came back from the Tonto all hitched +up.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"></a> +CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p> +Vague sense of movement, of darkness, and of cold attended Carley’s +consciousness for what seemed endless time. +</p> + +<p> +A fall over rocks and a severe thrust from a sharp branch brought an acute +appreciation of her position, if not of her mental state. Night had fallen. The +stars were out. She had stumbled over a low ledge. Evidently she had wandered +around, dazedly and aimlessly, until brought to her senses by pain. But for a +gleam of campfires through the cedars she would have been lost. It did not +matter. She was lost, anyhow. What was it that had happened? +</p> + +<p> +Charley, the sheep herder! Then the thunderbolt of his words burst upon her, +and she collapsed to the cold stones. She lay quivering from head to toe. She +dug her fingers into the moss and lichen. “Oh, God, to think—after +all—it happened!” she moaned. There had been a rending within her +breast, as of physical violence, from which she now suffered anguish. There +were a thousand stinging nerves. There was a mortal sickness of horror, of +insupportable heartbreaking loss. She could not endure it. She could not live +under it. +</p> + +<p> +She lay there until energy supplanted shock. Then she rose to rush into the +darkest shadows of the cedars, to grope here and there, hanging her head, +wringing her hands, beating her breast. “It can’t be true,” +she cried. “Not after my struggle—my victory—not +<i>now!</i>” But there had been no victory. And now it was too late. She +was betrayed, ruined, lost. That wonderful love had wrought transformation in +her—and now havoc. Once she fell against the branches of a thick cedar +that upheld her. The fragrance which had been sweet was now bitter. Life that +had been bliss was now hateful! She could not keep still for a single moment. +</p> + +<p> +Black night, cedars, brush, rocks, washes, seemed not to obstruct her. In a +frenzy she rushed on, tearing her dress, her hands, her hair. Violence of some +kind was imperative. All at once a pale gleaming open space, shimmering under +the stars, lay before her. It was water. Deep Lake! And instantly a hideous +terrible longing to destroy herself obsessed her. She had no fear. She could +have welcomed the cold, slimy depths that meant oblivion. But could they really +bring oblivion? A year ago she would have believed so, and would no longer have +endured such agony. She had changed. A cursed strength had come to her, and it +was this strength that now augmented her torture. She flung wide her arms to +the pitiless white stars and looked up at them. “My hope, my faith, my +love have failed me,” she whispered. “They have been a lie. I went +through hell for them. And now I’ve nothing to live for.... Oh, let me +end it all!” +</p> + +<p> +If she prayed to the stars for mercy, it was denied her. Passionlessly they +blazed on. But she could not kill herself. In that hour death would have been +the only relief and peace left to her. Stricken by the cruelty of her fate, she +fell back against the stones and gave up to grief. Nothing was left but fierce +pain. The youth and vitality and intensity of her then locked arms with anguish +and torment and a cheated, unsatisfied love. Strength of mind and body +involuntarily resisted the ravages of this catastrophe. Will power seemed +nothing, but the flesh of her, that medium of exquisite sensation, so full of +life, so prone to joy, refused to surrender. The part of her that felt fought +terribly for its heritage. +</p> + +<p> +All night long Carley lay there. The crescent moon went down, the stars moved +on their course, the coyotes ceased to wail, the wind died away, the lapping of +the waves along the lake shore wore to gentle splash, the whispering of the +insects stopped as the cold of dawn approached. The darkest hour +fell—hour of silence, solitude, and melancholy, when the desert lay +tranced, cold, waiting, mournful without light of moon or stars or sun. +</p> + +<p> +In the gray dawn Carley dragged her bruised and aching body back to her tent, +and, fastening the door, she threw off wet clothes and boots and fell upon her +bed. Slumber of exhaustion came to her. +</p> + +<p> +When she awoke the tent was light and the moving shadows of cedar boughs on the +white canvas told that the sun was straight above. Carley ached as never +before. A deep pang seemed invested in every bone. Her heart felt swollen out +of proportion to its space in her breast. Her breathing came slow and it hurt. +Her blood was sluggish. Suddenly she shut her eyes. She loathed the light of +day. What was it that had happened? +</p> + +<p> +Then the brutal truth flashed over her again, in aspect new, with all the old +bitterness. For an instant she experienced a suffocating sensation as if the +canvas had sagged under the burden of heavy air and was crushing her breast and +heart. Then wave after wave of emotion swept over her. The storm winds of grief +and passion were loosened again. And she writhed in her misery. +</p> + +<p> +Some one knocked on her door. The Mexican woman called anxiously. Carley awoke +to the fact that her presence was not solitary on the physical earth, even if +her soul seemed stricken to eternal loneliness. Even in the desert there was a +world to consider. Vanity that had bled to death, pride that had been crushed, +availed her not here. But something else came to her support. The lesson of the +West had been to endure, not to shirk—to face an issue, not to hide. +Carley got up, bathed, dressed, brushed and arranged her dishevelled hair. The +face she saw in the mirror excited her amaze and pity. Then she went out in +answer to the call for dinner. But she could not eat. The ordinary functions of +life appeared to be deadened. +</p> + +<p> +The day happened to be Sunday, and therefore the workmen were absent. Carley +had the place to herself. How the half-completed house mocked her! She could +not bear to look at it. What use could she make of it now? Flo Hutter had +become the working comrade of Glenn Kilbourne, the mistress of his cabin. She +was his wife and she would be the mother of his children. +</p> + +<p> +That thought gave birth to the darkest hour of Carley Burch’s life. She +became possessed as by a thousand devils. She became merely a female robbed of +her mate. Reason was not in her, nor charity, nor justice. All that was +abnormal in human nature seemed coalesced in her, dominant, passionate, savage, +terrible. She hated with an incredible and insane ferocity. In the seclusion of +her tent, crouched on her bed, silent, locked, motionless, she yet was the +embodiment of all terrible strife and storm in nature. Her heart was a +maelstrom and would have whirled and sucked down to hell all the beings that +were men. Her soul was a bottomless gulf, filled with the gales and the fires +of jealousy, superhuman to destroy. +</p> + +<p> +That fury consumed all her remaining strength, and from the relapse she sank to +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Morning brought the inevitable reaction. However long her other struggles, this +monumental and final one would be brief. She realized that, yet was unable to +understand how it could be possible, unless shock or death or mental aberration +ended the fight. An eternity of emotion lay back between this awakening of +intelligence and the hour of her fall into the clutches of primitive passion. +</p> + +<p> +That morning she faced herself in the mirror and asked, “Now—what +do I owe <i>you?</i>” It was not her voice that answered. It was beyond +her. But it said: “Go on! You are cut adrift. You are alone. You owe none +but yourself!... Go on! Not backward—not to the depths—but +up—upward!” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered at such a decree. How impossible for her! All animal, all woman, +all emotion, how could she live on the cold, pure heights? Yet she owed +something intangible and inscrutable to herself. Was it the thing that woman +lacked physically, yet contained hidden in her soul? An element of eternal +spirit to rise! Because of heartbreak and ruin and irreparable loss must she +fall? Was loss of love and husband and children only a test? The present hour +would be swallowed in the sum of life’s trials. She could not go back. +She would not go down. There was wrenched from her tried and sore heart an +unalterable and unquenchable decision—to make her own soul prove the +evolution of woman. Vessel of blood and flesh she might be, doomed by nature to +the reproduction of her kind, but she had in her the supreme spirit and power +to carry on the progress of the ages—the climb of woman out of the +darkness. +</p> + +<p> +Carley went out to the workmen. The house should be completed and she would +live in it. Always there was the stretching and illimitable desert to look at, +and the grand heave upward of the mountains. Hoyle was full of zest for the +practical details of the building. He saw nothing of the havoc wrought in her. +Nor did the other workmen glance more than casually at her. In this Carley lost +something of a shirking fear that her loss and grief were patent to all eyes. +</p> + +<p> +That afternoon she mounted the most spirited of the mustangs she had purchased +from the Indians. To govern him and stick on him required all her energy. And +she rode him hard and far, out across the desert, across mile after mile of +cedar forest, clear to the foothills. She rested there, absorbed in gazing +desertward, and upon turning back again, she ran him over the level stretches. +Wind and branch threshed her seemingly to ribbons. Violence seemed good for +her. A fall had no fear for her now. She reached camp at dusk, hot as fire, +breathless and strengthless. But she had earned something. Such action required +constant use of muscle and mind. If need be she could drive both to the very +furthermost limit. She could ride and ride—until the future, like the +immensity of the desert there, might swallow her. She changed her clothes and +rested a while. The call to supper found her hungry. In this fact she +discovered mockery of her grief. Love was not the food of life. Exhausted +nature’s need of rest and sleep was no respecter of a woman’s +emotion. +</p> + +<p> +Next day Carley rode northward, wildly and fearlessly, as if this conscious +activity was the initiative of an endless number of rides that were to save +her. As before the foothills called her, and she went on until she came to a +very high one. +</p> + +<p> +Carley dismounted from her panting horse, answering the familiar impulse to +attain heights by her own effort. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I only a weakling?” she asked herself. “Only a creature +mined by the fever of the soul!... Thrown from one emotion to another? Never +the same. Yearning, suffering, sacrificing, hoping, and changing—forever +the same! What is it that drives <i>me?</i> A great city with all its +attractions has failed to help me realize my life. So have friends failed. So +has the world. What can solitude and grandeur do?... All this obsession of +mine—all this strange feeling for simple elemental earthly things +likewise will fail me. Yet I am driven. They would call me a mad woman.” +</p> + +<p> +It took Carley a full hour of slow body-bending labor to climb to the summit of +that hill. High, steep, and rugged, it resisted ascension. But at last she +surmounted it and sat alone on the heights, with naked eyes, and an unconscious +prayer on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +What was it that had happened? Could there be here a different answer from that +which always mocked her? +</p> + +<p> +She had been a girl, not accountable for loss of mother, for choice of home and +education. She had belonged to a class. She had grown to womanhood in it. She +had loved, and in loving had escaped the evil of her day, if not its taint. She +had lived only for herself. Conscience had awakened—but, alas! too late. +She had overthrown the sordid, self-seeking habit of life; she had awakened to +real womanhood; she had fought the insidious spell of modernity and she had +defeated it; she had learned the thrill of taking root in new soil, the pain +and joy of labor, the bliss of solitude, the promise of home and love and +motherhood. But she had gathered all these marvelous things to her soul too +late for happiness. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Now</i> it is answered,” she declared aloud. “That is +what has happened?... And all that is <i>past</i>.... Is there anything left? +If so <i>what?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +She flung her query out to the winds of the desert. But the desert seemed too +gray, too vast, too remote, too aloof, too measureless. It was not concerned +with her little life. Then she turned to the mountain kingdom. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed overpoweringly near at hand. It loomed above her to pierce the fleecy +clouds. It was only a stupendous upheaval of earth-crust, grown over at the +base by leagues and leagues of pine forest, belted along the middle by vast +slanting zigzag slopes of aspen, rent and riven toward the heights into canyon +and gorge, bared above to cliffs and corners of craggy rock, whitened at the +sky-piercing peaks by snow. Its beauty and sublimity were lost upon Carley now; +she was concerned with its travail, its age, its endurance, its strength. And +she studied it with magnified sight. +</p> + +<p> +What incomprehensible subterranean force had swelled those immense slopes and +lifted the huge bulk aloft to the clouds? Cataclysm of nature—the +expanding or shrinking of the earth—vast volcanic action under the +surface! Whatever it had been, it had left its expression of the travail of the +universe. This mountain mass had been hot gas when flung from the parent sun, +and now it was solid granite. What had it endured in the making? What indeed +had been its dimensions before the millions of years of its struggle? +</p> + +<p> +Eruption, earthquake, avalanche, the attrition of glacier, the erosion of +water, the cracking of frost, the weathering of rain and wind and +snow—these it had eternally fought and resisted in vain, yet still it +stood magnificent, frowning, battle-scarred and undefeated. Its sky-piercing +peaks were as cries for mercy to the Infinite. This old mountain realized its +doom. It had to go, perhaps to make room for a newer and better kingdom. But it +endured because of the spirit of nature. The great notched circular line of +rock below and between the peaks, in the body of the mountains, showed where in +ages past the heart of living granite had blown out, to let loose on all the +near surrounding desert the streams of black lava and the hills of black +cinders. Despite its fringe of green it was hoary with age. Every looming +gray-faced wall, massive and sublime, seemed a monument of its mastery over +time. Every deep-cut canyon, showing the skeleton ribs, the caverns and caves, +its avalanche-carved slides, its long, fan-shaped, spreading taluses, carried +conviction to the spectator that it was but a frail bit of rock, that its life +was little and brief, that upon it had been laid the merciless curse of nature. +Change! Change must unknit the very knots of the center of the earth. So its +strength lay in the sublimity of its defiance. It meant to endure to the last +rolling grain of sand. It was a dead mountain of rock, without spirit, yet it +taught a grand lesson to the seeing eye. +</p> + +<p> +Life was only a part, perhaps an infinitely small part of nature’s plan. +Death and decay were just as important to her inscrutable design. The universe +had not been created for life, ease, pleasure, and happiness of a man creature +developed from lower organisms. If nature’s secret was the developing of +a spirit through all time, Carley divined that she had it within her. So the +present meant little. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no right to be unhappy,” concluded Carley. “I had no +right to Glenn Kilbourne. I failed him. In that I failed myself. Neither life +nor nature failed me—nor love. It is no longer a mystery. Unhappiness is +only a change. Happiness itself is only change. So what does it matter? The +great thing is to see life—to understand—to feel—to +work—to fight—to endure. It is not my fault I am here. But it is my +fault if I leave this strange old earth the poorer for my failure.... I will no +longer be little. I will find strength. I will endure.... I still have eyes, +ears, nose, taste. I can feel the sun, the wind, the nip of frost. Must I slink +like a craven because I’ve lost the love of <i>one</i> man? Must I hate +Flo Hutter because she will make Glenn happy? Never!... All of this seems +better so, because through it I am changed. I might have lived on, a selfish +clod!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley turned from the mountain kingdom and faced her future with the profound +and sad and far-seeing look that had come with her lesson. She knew what to +give. Sometime and somewhere there would be recompense. She would hide her +wound in the faith that time would heal it. And the ordeal she set herself, to +prove her sincerity and strength, was to ride down to Oak Creek Canyon. +</p> + +<p> +Carley did not wait many days. Strange how the old vanity held her back until +something of the havoc in her face should be gone! +</p> + +<p> +One morning she set out early, riding her best horse, and she took a sheep +trail across country. The distance by road was much farther. The June morning +was cool, sparkling, fragrant. Mocking birds sang from the topmost twig of +cedars; doves cooed in the pines; sparrow hawks sailed low over the open grassy +patches. Desert primroses showed their rounded pink clusters in sunny places, +and here and there burned the carmine of Indian paintbrush. Jack rabbits and +cotton-tails bounded and scampered away through the sage. The desert had life +and color and movement this June day. And as always there was the dry fragrance +on the air. +</p> + +<p> +Her mustang had been inured to long and consistent travel over the desert. Her +weight was nothing to him and he kept to the swinging lope for miles. As she +approached Oak Creek Canyon, however, she drew him to a trot, and then a walk. +Sight of the deep red-walled and green-floored canyon was a shock to her. +</p> + +<p> +The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan’s sheep camp, at a point +several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze Ruff. She +remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep jump-off where +the road led down off the rim into the canyon. Here she dismounted and walked. +From the foot of this descent she knew every rod of the way would be familiar +to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to turn away and fly from them. But she kept +on and mounted again at level ground. +</p> + +<p> +The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears—sweet, sad, memorable, +strangely powerful to hurt. Yet the sound seemed of long ago. Down here summer +had advanced. Rich thick foliage overspread the winding road of sand. Then out +of the shade she passed into the sunnier regions of isolated pines. Along here +she had raced Calico with Glenn’s bay; and here she had caught him, and +there was the place she had fallen. She halted a moment under the pine tree +where Glenn had held her in his arms. Tears dimmed her eyes. If only she had +known then the truth, the reality! But regrets were useless. +</p> + +<p> +By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees, and its pipe-organ +conformation was familiar to Carley. She left the road and turned to go down to +the creek. Sycamores and maples and great bowlders, and mossy ledges +overhanging the water, and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot where she and +Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day. Her mustang splashed into the clear +water and halted to drink. Beyond, through the trees, Carley saw the sunny +red-earthed clearing that was Glenn’s farm. She looked, and fought +herself, and bit her quivering lip until she tasted blood. Then she rode out +into the open. +</p> + +<p> +The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and plowed. +But she gazed no farther. She did not want to see the spot where she had given +Glenn his ring and had parted from him. She rode on. If she could pass West +Fork she believed her courage would rise to the completion of this ordeal. +Places were what she feared. Places that she had loved while blindly believing +she hated! There the narrow gap of green and blue split the looming red wall. +She was looking into West Fork. Up there stood the cabin. How fierce a pang +rent her breast! She faltered at the crossing of the branch stream, and almost +surrendered. The water murmured, the leaves rustled, the bees hummed, the birds +sang—all with some sad sweetness that seemed of the past. +</p> + +<p> +Then the trail leading up West Fork was like a barrier. She saw horse tracks in +it. Next she descried boot tracks the shape of which was so well-remembered +that it shook her heart. There were fresh tracks in the sand, pointing in the +direction of the Lodge. Ah! that was where Glenn lived now. Carley strained at +her will to keep it fighting her memory. The glory and the dream were gone! +</p> + +<p> +A touch of spur urged her mustang into a gallop. The splashing ford of the +creek—the still, eddying pool beyond—the green orchards—the +white lacy waterfall—and Lolomi Lodge! +</p> + +<p> +Nothing had altered. But Carley seemed returning after many years. Slowly she +dismounted—slowly she climbed the porch steps. Was there no one at home? +Yet the vacant doorway, the silence—something attested to the knowledge +of Carley’s presence. Then suddenly Mrs. Hutter fluttered out with Flo +behind her. +</p> + +<p> +“You dear girl—I’m so glad!” cried Mrs. Hutter, her +voice trembling. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad to see you, too,” said Carley, bending to receive +Mrs. Hutter’s embrace. Carley saw dim eyes—the stress of agitation, +but no surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Oh, Carley!</i>” burst out the Western girl, with voice rich +and full, yet tremulous. +</p> + +<p> +“Flo, I’ve come to wish you happiness,” replied Carley, very +low. +</p> + +<p> +Was it the same Flo? This seemed more of a woman—strange now—white +and strained—beautiful, eager, questioning. A cry of gladness burst from +her. Carley felt herself enveloped in strong close clasp—and then a warm, +quick kiss of joy. It shocked her, yet somehow thrilled. Sure was the welcome +here. Sure was the strained situation, also, but the voice rang too glad a note +for Carley. It touched her deeply, yet she could not understand. She had not +measured the depth of Western friendship. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you—seen Glenn?” queried Flo, breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, indeed not,” replied Carley, slowly gaining composure. The +nervous agitation of these women had stilled her own. “I just rode up the +trail. Where is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was here—a moment ago,” panted Flo. “Oh, Carley, we +sure are locoed. ... Why, we only heard an hour ago—that <i>you</i> were +at Deep Lake.... Charley rode in. He told us.... I thought my heart would +break. Poor Glenn! When he heard it.... But never mind <i>me</i>. Jump your +horse and run to West Fork!” +</p> + +<p> +The spirit of her was like the strength of her arms as she hurried Carley +across the porch and shoved her down the steps. +</p> + +<p> +“Climb on and run, Carley,” cried Flo. “If you only knew how +glad he’ll be that you came!” +</p> + +<p> +Carley leaped into the saddle and wheeled the mustang. But she had no answer +for the girl’s singular, almost wild exultance. Then like a shot the +spirited mustang was off down the lane. Carley wondered with swelling heart. +Was her coming such a wondrous surprise—so unexpected and big in +generosity—something that would make Kilbourne as glad as it had seemed +to make Flo? Carley thrilled to this assurance. +</p> + +<p> +Down the lane she flew. The red walls blurred and the sweet wind whipped her +face. At the trail she swerved the mustang, but did not check his gait. Under +the great pines he sped and round the bulging wall. At the rocky incline +leading to the creek she pulled the fiery animal to a trot. How low and clear +the water! As Carley forded it fresh cool drops splashed into her face. Again +she spurred her mount and again trees and walls rushed by. Up and down the +yellow bits of trail—on over the brown mats of pine needles—until +there in the sunlight shone the little gray log cabin with a tall form standing +in the door. One instant the canyon tilted on end for Carley and she was riding +into the blue sky. Then some magic of soul sustained her, so that she saw +clearly. Reaching the cabin she reined in her mustang. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Glenn! Look who’s here!” she cried, not wholly +failing of gayety. +</p> + +<p> +He threw up his sombrero. +</p> + +<p> +“Whoopee!” he yelled, in stentorian voice that rolled across the +canyon and bellowed in hollow echo and then clapped from wall to wall. The +unexpected Western yell, so strange from Glenn, disconcerted Carley. Had he +only answered her spirit of greeting? Had hers rung false? +</p> + +<p> +But he was coming to her. She had seen the bronze of his face turn to white. +How gaunt and worn he looked. Older he appeared, with deeper lines and whiter +hair. His jaw quivered. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley Burch, so it was <i>you?</i>” he queried, hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +“Glenn, I reckon it was,” she replied. “I bought your Deep +Lake ranch site. I came back too late.... But it is never too late for some +things.... I’ve come to wish you and Flo all the happiness in the +world—and to say we must be friends.” +</p> + +<p> +The way he looked at her made her tremble. He strode up beside the mustang, and +he was so tall that his shoulder came abreast of her. He placed a big warm hand +on hers, as it rested, ungloved, on the pommel of the saddle. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Flo?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I just left her. It was funny—the way she rushed me off after you. +As if there weren’t two—” +</p> + +<p> +Was it Glenn’s eyes or the movement of his hand that checked her +utterance? His gaze pierced her soul. His hand slid along her arm to her +waist—around it. Her heart seemed to burst. +</p> + +<p> +“Kick your feet out of the stirrups,” he ordered. +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively she obeyed. Then with a strong pull he hauled her half out of the +saddle, pellmell into his arms. Carley had no resistance. She sank limp, in an +agony of amaze. Was this a dream? Swift and hard his lips met hers—and +again—and again.... +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my God!—Glenn, are—you—mad?” she whispered, +almost swooning. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure—I reckon I am,” he replied, huskily, and pulled her all +the way out of the saddle. +</p> + +<p> +Carley would have fallen but for his support. She could not think. She was all +instinct. Only the amaze—the sudden horror—drifted—faded as +before fires of her heart! +</p> + +<p> +“Kiss me!” he commanded. +</p> + +<p> +She would have kissed him if death were the penalty. How his face blurred in +her dimmed sight! Was that a strange smile? Then he held her back from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Carley—you came to wish Flo and me happiness?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes—yes.... Pity me, Glenn—let me go. I meant well.... I +should—never have come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you love me?” he went on, with passionate, shaking clasp. +</p> + +<p> +“God help me—I do—I do!... And now it will kill me!” +</p> + +<p> +“What did that damned fool Charley tell you?” +</p> + +<p> +The strange content of his query, the trenchant force of it, brought her +upright, with sight suddenly cleared. Was this giant the tragic Glenn who had +strode to her from the cabin door? +</p> + +<p> +“Charley told me—you and Flo—were married,” she +whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t <i>believe</i> him!” returned Glenn. +</p> + +<p> +She could no longer speak. She could only see her lover, as if transfigured, +limned dark against the looming red wall. +</p> + +<p> +“That was one of Charley’s queer jokes. I told you to beware of +him. Flo is married, yes—and very happy.... I’m unutterably happy, +too—but I’m <i>not</i> married. Lee Stanton was the lucky +bridegroom.... Carley, the moment I saw you I knew you had come back to +me.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..41211c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1881 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1881) diff --git a/old/1881.txt b/old/1881.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a92a86 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1881.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8400 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Call of the Canyon, by Zane Grey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Call of the Canyon + +Author: Zane Grey + +Posting Date: November 17, 2008 [EBook #1881] +Release Date: September, 1999 +[This file last updated: February 3, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON *** + + + + +Produced by Bill Brewer + + + + + +THE CALL OF THE CANYON + +By Zane Grey + + + + +CHAPTER I + +What subtle strange message had come to her out of the West? Carley +Burch laid the letter in her lap and gazed dreamily through the window. + +It was a day typical of early April in New York, rather cold and gray, +with steely sunlight. Spring breathed in the air, but the women passing +along Fifty-seventh Street wore furs and wraps. She heard the distant +clatter of an L train and then the hum of a motor car. A hurdy-gurdy +jarred into the interval of quiet. + +"Glenn has been gone over a year," she mused, "three months over a +year--and of all his strange letters this seems the strangest yet." + +She lived again, for the thousandth time, the last moments she had spent +with him. It had been on New-Year's Eve, 1918. They had called upon +friends who were staying at the McAlpin, in a suite on the twenty-first +floor overlooking Broadway. And when the last quarter hour of that +eventful and tragic year began slowly to pass with the low swell of +whistles and bells, Carley's friends had discreetly left her alone with +her lover, at the open window, to watch and hear the old year out, the +new year in. Glenn Kilbourne had returned from France early that fall, +shell-shocked and gassed, and otherwise incapacitated for service in the +army--a wreck of his former sterling self and in many unaccountable ways +a stranger to her. Cold, silent, haunted by something, he had made her +miserable with his aloofness. But as the bells began to ring out +the year that had been his ruin Glenn had drawn her close, tenderly, +passionately, and yet strangely, too. + +"Carley, look and listen!" he had whispered. + +Under them stretched the great long white flare of Broadway, with its +snow-covered length glittering under a myriad of electric lights. Sixth +Avenue swerved away to the right, a less brilliant lane of blanched +snow. The L trains crept along like huge fire-eyed serpents. The hum of +the ceaseless moving line of motor cars drifted upward faintly, +almost drowned in the rising clamor of the street. Broadway's gay and +thoughtless crowds surged to and fro, from that height merely a thick +stream of black figures, like contending columns of ants on the march. +And everywhere the monstrous electric signs flared up vivid in white and +red and green; and dimmed and paled, only to flash up again. + +Ring out the Old! Ring in the New! Carley had poignantly felt the +sadness of the one, the promise of the other. As one by one the siren +factory whistles opened up with deep, hoarse bellow, the clamor of the +street and the ringing of the bells were lost in a volume of continuous +sound that swelled on high into a magnificent roar. It was the voice of +a city--of a nation. It was the voice of a people crying out the strife +and the agony of the year--pealing forth a prayer for the future. + +Glenn had put his lips to her ear: "It's like the voice in my soul!" +Never would she forget the shock of that. And how she had stood +spellbound, enveloped in the mighty volume of sound no longer +discordant, but full of great, pregnant melody, until the white ball +burst upon the tower of the Times Building, showing the bright figures +1919. + +The new year had not been many minutes old when Glenn Kilbourne had told +her he was going West to try to recover his health. + +Carley roused out of her memories to take up the letter that had so +perplexed her. It bore the postmark, Flagstaff, Arizona. She reread it +with slow pondering thoughtfulness. + + +WEST FORK, + +March 25. + +DEAR CARLEY: + +It does seem my neglect in writing you is unpardonable. I used to be +a pretty fair correspondent, but in that as in other things I have +changed. + +One reason I have not answered sooner is because your letter was so +sweet and loving that it made me feel an ungrateful and unappreciative +wretch. Another is that this life I now lead does not induce writing. I +am outdoors all day, and when I get back to this cabin at night I am too +tired for anything but bed. + +Your imperious questions I must answer--and that must, of course, is +a third reason why I have delayed my reply. First, you ask, "Don't you +love me any more as you used to?"... Frankly, I do not. I am sure my +old love for you, before I went to France, was selfish, thoughtless, +sentimental, and boyish. I am a man now. And my love for you is +different. Let me assure you that it has been about all left to me of +what is noble and beautiful. Whatever the changes in me for the worse, +my love for you, at least, has grown better, finer, purer. + +And now for your second question, "Are you coming home as soon as you +are well again?"... Carley, I am well. I have delayed telling you this +because I knew you would expect me to rush back East with the telling. +But--the fact is, Carley, I am not coming--just yet. I wish it were +possible for me to make you understand. For a long time I seem to have +been frozen within. You know when I came back from France I couldn't +talk. It's almost as bad as that now. Yet all that I was then seems to +have changed again. It is only fair to you to tell you that, as I +feel now, I hate the city, I hate people, and particularly I hate that +dancing, drinking, lounging set you chase with. I don't want to come +East until I am over that, you know... Suppose I never get over it? +Well, Carley, you can free yourself from me by one word that I could +never utter. I could never break our engagement. During the hell I went +through in the war my attachment to you saved me from moral ruin, if it +did not from perfect honor and fidelity. This is another thing I despair +of making you understand. And in the chaos I've wandered through since +the war my love for you was my only anchor. You never guessed, did you, +that I lived on your letters until I got well. And now the fact that I +might get along without them is no discredit to their charm or to you. + +It is all so hard to put in words, Carley. To lie down with death and +get up with death was nothing. To face one's degradation was nothing. +But to come home an incomprehensibly changed man--and to see my old life +as strange as if it were the new life of another planet--to try to slip +into the old groove--well, no words of mine can tell you how utterly +impossible it was. + +My old job was not open to me, even if I had been able to work. The +government that I fought for left me to starve, or to die of my maladies +like a dog, for all it cared. + +I could not live on your money, Carley. My people are poor, as you know. +So there was nothing for me to do but to borrow a little money from my +friends and to come West. I'm glad I had the courage to come. What +this West is I'll never try to tell you, because, loving the luxury and +excitement and glitter of the city as you do, you'd think I was crazy. + +Getting on here, in my condition, was as hard as trench life. But now, +Carley--something has come to me out of the West. That, too, I am unable +to put into words. Maybe I can give you an inkling of it. I'm strong +enough to chop wood all day. No man or woman passes my cabin in a month. +But I am never lonely. I love these vast red canyon walls towering above +me. And the silence is so sweet. Think of the hellish din that filled my +ears. Even now--sometimes, the brook here changes its babbling murmur +to the roar of war. I never understood anything of the meaning of nature +until I lived under these looming stone walls and whispering pines. + +So, Carley, try to understand me, or at least be kind. You know they +came very near writing, "Gone west!" after my name, and considering +that, this "Out West" signifies for me a very fortunate difference. A +tremendous difference! For the present I'll let well enough alone. + +Adios. Write soon. Love from + +GLEN + + +Carley's second reaction to the letter was a sudden upflashing desire +to see her lover--to go out West and find him. Impulses with her were +rather rare and inhibited, but this one made her tremble. If Glenn was +well again he must have vastly changed from the moody, stone-faced, +and haunted-eyed man who had so worried and distressed her. He had +embarrassed her, too, for sometimes, in her home, meeting young men +there who had not gone into the service, he had seemed to retreat into +himself, singularly aloof, as if his world was not theirs. + +Again, with eager eyes and quivering lips, she read the letter. It +contained words that lifted her heart. Her starved love greedily +absorbed them. In them she had excuse for any resolve that might bring +Glenn closer to her. And she pondered over this longing to go to him. + +Carley had the means to come and go and live as she liked. She did not +remember her father, who had died when she was a child. Her mother had +left her in the care of a sister, and before the war they had divided +their time between New York and Europe, the Adirondacks and Florida, +Carley had gone in for Red Cross and relief work with more of sincerity +than most of her set. But she was really not used to making any decision +as definite and important as that of going out West alone. She had never +been farther west than Jersey City; and her conception of the West was +a hazy one of vast plains and rough mountains, squalid towns, cattle +herds, and uncouth ill-clad men. + +So she carried the letter to her aunt, a rather slight woman with +a kindly face and shrewd eyes, and who appeared somewhat given to +old-fashioned garments. + +"Aunt Mary, here's a letter from Glenn," said Carley. "It's more of a +stumper than usual. Please read it." + +"Dear me! You look upset," replied the aunt, mildly, and, adjusting her +spectacles, she took the letter. + +Carley waited impatiently for the perusal, conscious of inward forces +coming more and more to the aid of her impulse to go West. Her aunt +paused once to murmur how glad she was that Glenn had gotten well. Then +she read on to the close. + +"Carley, that's a fine letter," she said, fervently. "Do you see through +it?" + +"No, I don't," replied Carley. "That's why I asked you to read it." + +"Do you still love Glenn as you used to before--" + +"Why, Aunt Mary!" exclaimed Carley, in surprise. + +"Excuse me, Carley, if I'm blunt. But the fact is young women of modern +times are very different from my kind when I was a girl. You haven't +acted as though you pined for Glenn. You gad around almost the same as +ever." + +"What's a girl to do?" protested Carley. + +"You are twenty-six years old, Carley," retorted Aunt Mary. + +"Suppose I am. I'm as young--as I ever was." + +"Well, let's not argue about modern girls and modern times. We never get +anywhere," returned her aunt, kindly. "But I can tell you something of +what Glenn Kilbourne means in that letter--if you want to hear it." + +"I do--indeed." + +"The war did something horrible to Glenn aside from wrecking his health. +Shell-shock, they said! I don't understand that. Out of his mind, they +said! But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, and, my dear, +that's pretty sane, I'll have you remember. But he must have suffered +some terrible blight to his spirit--some blunting of his soul. For +months after he returned he walked as one in a trance. Then came a +change. He grew restless. Perhaps that change was for the better. At +least it showed he'd roused. Glenn saw you and your friends and the +life you lead, and all the present, with eyes from which the scales had +dropped. He saw what was wrong. He never said so to me, but I knew it. +It wasn't only to get well that he went West. It was to get away.... +And, Carley Burch, if your happiness depends on him you had better be up +and doing--or you'll lose him!" + +"Aunt Mary!" gasped Carley. + +"I mean it. That letter shows how near he came to the Valley of the +Shadow--and how he has become a man.... If I were you I'd go out West. +Surely there must be a place where it would be all right for you to +stay." + +"Oh, yes," replied Carley, eagerly. "Glenn wrote me there was a lodge +where people went in nice weather--right down in the canyon not far +from his place. Then, of course, the town--Flagstaff--isn't far.... Aunt +Mary, I think I'll go." + +"I would. You're certainly wasting your time here." + +"But I could only go for a visit," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. "A +month, perhaps six weeks, if I could stand it." + +"Seems to me if you can stand New York you could stand that place," said +Aunt Mary, dryly. + +"The idea of staying away from New York any length of time--why, I +couldn't do it I... But I can stay out there long enough to bring Glenn +back with me." + +"That may take you longer than you think," replied her aunt, with a +gleam in her shrewd eyes. "If you want my advice you will surprise +Glenn. Don't write him--don't give him a chance to--well to suggest +courteously that you'd better not come just yet. I don't like his words +'just yet.'" + +"Auntie, you're--rather--more than blunt," said Carley, divided between +resentment and amaze. "Glenn would be simply wild to have me come." + +"Maybe he would. Has he ever asked you?" + +"No-o--come to think of it, he hasn't," replied Carley, reluctantly. +"Aunt Mary, you hurt my feelings." + +"Well, child, I'm glad to learn your feelings are hurt," returned the +aunt. "I'm sure, Carley, that underneath all this--this blase ultra +something you've acquired, there's a real heart. Only you must hurry and +listen to it--or--" + +"Or what?" queried Carley. + +Aunt Mary shook her gray head sagely. "Never mind what. Carley, I'd like +your idea of the most significant thing in Glenn's letter." + +"Why, his love for me, of course!" replied Carley. + +"Naturally you think that. But I don't. What struck me most were his +words, 'out of the West.' Carley, you'd do well to ponder over them." + +"I will," rejoined Carley, positively. "I'll do more. I'll go out to his +wonderful West and see what he meant by them." + +Carley Burch possessed in full degree the prevailing modern craze for +speed. She loved a motor-car ride at sixty miles an hour along a smooth, +straight road, or, better, on the level seashore of Ormond, where on +moonlight nights the white blanched sand seemed to flash toward her. +Therefore quite to her taste was the Twentieth Century Limited which was +hurtling her on the way to Chicago. The unceasingly smooth and even +rush of the train satisfied something in her. An old lady sitting in an +adjoining seat with a companion amused Carley by the remark: "I wish we +didn't go so fast. People nowadays haven't time to draw a comfortable +breath. Suppose we should run off the track!" + +Carley had no fear of express trains, or motor cars, or transatlantic +liners; in fact, she prided herself in not being afraid of anything. +But she wondered if this was not the false courage of association with +a crowd. Before this enterprise at hand she could not remember anything +she had undertaken alone. Her thrills seemed to be in abeyance to the +end of her journey. That night her sleep was permeated with the steady +low whirring of the wheels. Once, roused by a jerk, she lay awake in +the darkness while the thought came to her that she and all her fellow +passengers were really at the mercy of the engineer. Who was he, and +did he stand at his throttle keen and vigilant, thinking of the +lives intrusted to him? Such thoughts vaguely annoyed Carley, and she +dismissed them. + +A long half-day wait in Chicago was a tedious preliminary to the second +part of her journey. But at last she found herself aboard the California +Limited, and went to bed with a relief quite a stranger to her. The +glare of the sun under the curtain awakened her. Propped up on her +pillows, she looked out at apparently endless green fields or pastures, +dotted now and then with little farmhouses and tree-skirted villages. +This country, she thought, must be the prairie land she remembered lay +west of the Mississippi. + +Later, in the dining car, the steward smilingly answered her question: +"This is Kansas, and those green fields out there are the wheat that +feeds the nation." + +Carley was not impressed. The color of the short wheat appeared soft and +rich, and the boundless fields stretched away monotonously. She had +not known there was so much flat land in the world, and she imagined it +might be a fine country for automobile roads. When she got back to her +seat she drew the blinds down and read her magazines. Then tiring of +that, she went back to the observation car. Carley was accustomed to +attracting attention, and did not resent it, unless she was annoyed. +The train evidently had a full complement of passengers, who, as far as +Carley could see, were people not of her station in life. The glare from +the many windows, and the rather crass interest of several men, drove +her back to her own section. There she discovered that some one had +drawn up her window shades. Carley promptly pulled them down and settled +herself comfortably. Then she heard a woman speak, not particularly low: +"I thought people traveled west to see the country." And a man replied, +rather dryly. "Wal, not always." His companion went on: "If that girl +was mine I'd let down her skirt." The man laughed and replied: "Martha, +you're shore behind the times. Look at the pictures in the magazines." + +Such remarks amused Carley, and later she took advantage of an +opportunity to notice her neighbors. They appeared a rather quaint +old couple, reminding her of the natives of country towns in the +Adirondacks. She was not amused, however, when another of her woman +neighbors, speaking low, referred to her as a "lunger." Carley +appreciated the fact that she was pale, but she assured herself that +there ended any possible resemblance she might have to a consumptive. +And she was somewhat pleased to hear this woman's male companion +forcibly voice her own convictions. In fact, he was nothing if not +admiring. + +Kansas was interminably long to Carley, and she went to sleep before +riding out of it. Next morning she found herself looking out at the +rough gray and black land of New Mexico. She searched the horizon for +mountains, but there did not appear to be any. She received a vague, +slow-dawning impression that was hard to define. She did not like the +country, though that was not the impression which eluded her. Bare gray +flats, low scrub-fringed hills, bleak cliffs, jumble after jumble +of rocks, and occasionally a long vista down a valley, somehow +compelling--these passed before her gaze until she tired of them. Where +was the West Glenn had written about? One thing seemed sure, and it was +that every mile of this crude country brought her nearer to him. This +recurring thought gave Carley all the pleasure she had felt so far in +this endless ride. It struck her that England or France could be dropped +down into New Mexico and scarcely noticed. + +By and by the sun grew hot, the train wound slowly and creakingly +upgrade, the car became full of dust, all of which was disagreeable to +Carley. She dozed on her pillow for hours, until she was stirred by a +passenger crying out, delightedly: "Look! Indians!" + +Carley looked, not without interest. As a child she had read about +Indians, and memory returned images both colorful and romantic. From +the car window she espied dusty flat barrens, low squat mud houses, +and queer-looking little people, children naked or extremely ragged +and dirty, women in loose garments with flares of red, and men in white +man's garb, slovenly and motley. All these strange individuals stared +apathetically as the train slowly passed. + +"Indians," muttered Carley, incredulously. "Well, if they are the noble +red people, my illusions are dispelled." She did not look out of the +window again, not even when the brakeman called out the remarkable name +of Albuquerque. + +Next day Carley's languid attention quickened to the name of Arizona, +and to the frowning red walls of rock, and to the vast rolling stretches +of cedar-dotted land. Nevertheless, it affronted her. This was no +country for people to live in, and so far as she could see it was indeed +uninhabited. Her sensations were not, however, limited to sight. She +became aware of unfamiliar disturbing little shocks or vibrations in +her ear drums, and after that a disagreeable bleeding of the nose. The +porter told her this was owing to the altitude. Thus, one thing and +another kept Carley most of the time away from the window, so that she +really saw very little of the country. From what she had seen she drew +the conviction that she had not missed much. At sunset she deliberately +gazed out to discover what an Arizona sunset was like just a pale yellow +flare! She had seen better than that above the Palisades. Not until +reaching Winslow did she realize how near she was to her journey's end +and that she would arrive at Flagstaff after dark. She grew conscious of +nervousness. Suppose Flagstaff were like these other queer little towns! + +Not only once, but several times before the train slowed down for her +destination did Carley wish she had sent Glenn word to meet her. And +when, presently, she found herself standing out in the dark, cold, windy +night before a dim-lit railroad station she more than regretted her +decision to surprise Glenn. But that was too late and she must make the +best of her poor judgment. + +Men were passing to and fro on the platform, some of whom appeared to +be very dark of skin and eye, and were probably Mexicans. At length an +expressman approached Carley, soliciting patronage. He took her bags +and, depositing them in a wagon, he pointed up the wide street: +"One block up an' turn. Hotel Wetherford." Then he drove off. Carley +followed, carrying her small satchel. A cold wind, driving the dust, +stung her face as she crossed the street to a high sidewalk that +extended along the block. There were lights in the stores and on the +corners, yet she seemed impressed by a dark, cold, windy bigness. Many +people, mostly men, were passing up and down, and there were motor cars +everywhere. No one paid any attention to her. Gaining the corner of +the block, she turned, and was relieved to see the hotel sign. As she +entered the lobby a clicking of pool balls and the discordant rasp of a +phonograph assailed her ears. The expressman set down her bags and left +Carley standing there. The clerk or proprietor was talking from behind +his desk to several men, and there were loungers in the lobby. The air +was thick with tobacco smoke. No one paid any attention to Carley until +at length she stepped up to the desk and interrupted the conversation +there. + +"Is this a hotel?" she queried, brusquely. + +The shirt-sleeved individual leisurely turned and replied, "Yes, ma'am." + +And Carley said: "No one would recognize it by the courtesy shown. I +have been standing here waiting to register." + +With the same leisurely case and a cool, laconic stare the clerk turned +the book toward her. "Reckon people round here ask for what they want." + +Carley made no further comment. She assuredly recognized that what she +had been accustomed to could not be expected out here. What she most +wished to do at the moment was to get close to the big open grate where +a cheery red-and-gold fire cracked. It was necessary, however, to follow +the clerk. He assigned her to a small drab room which contained a bed, +a bureau, and a stationary washstand with one spigot. There was also a +chair. While Carley removed her coat and hat the clerk went downstairs +for the rest of her luggage. Upon his return Carley learned that a stage +left the hotel for Oak Creek Canyon at nine o'clock next morning. And +this cheered her so much that she faced the strange sense of loneliness +and discomfort with something of fortitude. There was no heat in the +room, and no hot water. When Carley squeezed the spigot handle there +burst forth a torrent of water that spouted up out of the washbasin to +deluge her. It was colder than any ice water she had ever felt. It was +piercingly cold. Hard upon the surprise and shock Carley suffered a +flash of temper. But then the humor of it struck her and she had to +laugh. + +"Serves you right--you spoiled doll of luxury!" she mocked. "This is out +West. Shiver and wait on yourself!" + +Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick +woollen blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness, +too, seemed rather comforting. + +"I'm only twenty miles from Glenn," she whispered. "How strange! I +wonder will he be glad." She felt a sweet, glowing assurance of that. +Sleep did not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, and +for a long time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, the +click of pool balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she heard +a sound of wind outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her ears, +and somehow pleasant. Another sound greeted her--the musical clanging +of a clock that struck the quarters of the hour. Some time late sleep +claimed her. + +Upon awakening she found she had overslept, necessitating haste upon her +part. As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of leisurely +dressing. She had no adequate name for the feeling of the water. And +her fingers grew so numb that she made what she considered a disgraceful +matter of her attire. + +Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate. +How perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb +hands almost into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain +that slowly warmed out of them. The lobby was deserted. A sign directed +her to a dining room in the basement, where of the ham and eggs and +strong coffee she managed to partake a little. Then she went upstairs +into the lobby and out into the street. + +A cold, piercing air seemed to blow right through her. Walking to the +near corner, she paused to look around. Down the main street flowed a +leisurely stream of pedestrians, horses, cars, extending between two +blocks of low buildings. Across from where she stood lay a vacant lot, +beyond which began a line of neat, oddly constructed houses, evidently +residences of the town. And then lifting her gaze, instinctively drawn +by something obstructing the sky line, she was suddenly struck with +surprise and delight. + +"Oh! how perfectly splendid!" she burst out. + +Two magnificent mountains loomed right over her, sloping up with +majestic sweep of green and black timber, to a ragged tree-fringed snow +area that swept up cleaner and whiter, at last to lift pure glistening +peaks, noble and sharp, and sunrise-flushed against the blue. + +Carley had climbed Mont Blanc and she had seen the Matterhorn, but they +had never struck such amaze and admiration from her as these twin peaks +of her native land. + +"What mountains are those?" she asked a passer-by. + +"San Francisco Peaks, ma'am," replied the man. + +"Why, they can't be over a mile away!" she said. + +"Eighteen miles, ma'am," he returned, with a grin. "Shore this Arizonie +air is deceivin'." + +"How strange," murmured Carley. "It's not that way in the Adirondacks." + +She was still gazing upward when a man approached her and said the stage +for Oak Creek Canyon would soon be ready to start, and he wanted to know +if her baggage was ready. Carley hurried back to her room to pack. + +She had expected the stage would be a motor bus, or at least a large +touring car, but it turned out to be a two-seated vehicle drawn by +a team of ragged horses. The driver was a little wizen-faced man of +doubtful years, and he did not appear obviously susceptible to the +importance of his passenger. There was considerable freight to be +hauled, besides Carley's luggage, but evidently she was the only +passenger. + +"Reckon it's goin' to be a bad day," said the driver. "These April days +high up on the desert are windy an' cold. Mebbe it'll snow, too. Them +clouds hangin' around the peaks ain't very promisin'. Now, miss, haven't +you a heavier coat or somethin'?" + +"No, I have not," replied Carley. "I'll have to stand it. Did you say +this was desert?" + +"I shore did. Wal, there's a hoss blanket under the seat, an' you can +have that," he replied, and, climbing to the seat in front of Carley, he +took up the reins and started the horses off at a trot. + +At the first turning Carley became specifically acquainted with the +driver's meaning of a bad day. A gust of wind, raw and penetrating, +laden with dust and stinging sand, swept full in her face. It came so +suddenly that she was scarcely quick enough to close her eyes. It took +considerable clumsy effort on her part with a handkerchief, aided by +relieving tears, to clear her sight again. Thus uncomfortably Carley +found herself launched on the last lap of her journey. + +All before her and alongside lay the squalid environs of the town. +Looked back at, with the peaks rising behind, it was not unpicturesque. +But the hard road with its sheets of flying dust, the bleak railroad +yards, the round pens she took for cattle corrals, and the sordid debris +littering the approach to a huge sawmill,--these were offensive in +Carley's sight. From a tall dome-like stack rose a yellowish smoke that +spread overhead, adding to the lowering aspect of the sky. Beyond +the sawmill extended the open country sloping somewhat roughly, and +evidently once a forest, but now a hideous bare slash, with ghastly +burned stems of trees still standing, and myriads of stumps attesting to +denudation. + +The bleak road wound away to the southwest, and from this direction came +the gusty wind. It did not blow regularly so that Carley could be on her +guard. It lulled now and then, permitting her to look about, and then +suddenly again whipping dust into her face. The smell of the dust was as +unpleasant as the sting. It made her nostrils smart. It was penetrating, +and a little more of it would have been suffocating. And as a leaden +gray bank of broken clouds rolled up the wind grew stronger and the air +colder. Chilled before, Carley now became thoroughly cold. + +There appeared to be no end to the devastated forest land, and the +farther she rode the more barren and sordid grew the landscape. Carley +forgot about the impressive mountains behind her. And as the ride wore +into hours, such was her discomfort and disillusion that she forgot +about Glenn Kilbourne. She did not reach the point of regretting her +adventure, but she grew mightily unhappy. Now and then she espied +dilapidated log cabins and surroundings even more squalid than the +ruined forest. What wretched abodes! Could it be possible that people +had lived in them? She imagined men had but hardly women and children. +Somewhere she had forgotten an idea that women and children were +extremely scarce in the West. + +Straggling bits of forest--yellow pines, the driver called the +trees--began to encroach upon the burned-over and arid barren land. To +Carley these groves, by reason of contrast and proof of what once was, +only rendered the landscape more forlorn and dreary. Why had these miles +and miles of forest been cut? By money grubbers, she supposed, the same +as were devastating the Adirondacks. Presently, when the driver had to +halt to repair or adjust something wrong with the harness, Carley was +grateful for a respite from cold inaction. She got out and walked. Sleet +began to fall, and when she resumed her seat in the vehicle she asked +the driver for the blanket to cover her. The smell of this horse blanket +was less endurable than the cold. Carley huddled down into a state of +apathetic misery. Already she had enough of the West. + +But the sleet storm passed, the clouds broke, the sun shone through, +greatly mitigating her discomfort. By and by the road led into a section +of real forest, unspoiled in any degree. Carley saw large gray squirrels +with tufted ears and white bushy tails. Presently the driver pointed +out a flock of huge birds, which Carley, on second glance, recognized +as turkeys, only these were sleek and glossy, with flecks of bronze and +black and white, quite different from turkeys back East. "There must be +a farm near," said Carley, gazing about. + +"No, ma'am. Them's wild turkeys," replied the driver, "an' shore the +best eatin' you ever had in your life." + +A little while afterwards, as they were emerging from the woodland +into more denuded country, he pointed out to Carley a herd of gray +white-rumped animals that she took to be sheep. + +"An' them's antelope," he said. "Once this desert was overrun by +antelope. Then they nearly disappeared. An' now they're increasin' +again." + +More barren country, more bad weather, and especially an exceedingly +rough road reduced Carley to her former state of dejection. The jolting +over roots and rocks and ruts was worse than uncomfortable. She had to +hold on to the seat to keep from being thrown out. The horses did not +appreciably change their gait for rough sections of the road. Then a +more severe jolt brought Carley's knee in violent contact with an iron +bolt on the forward seat, and it hurt her so acutely that she had to +bite her lips to keep from screaming. A smoother stretch of road did not +come any too soon for her. + +It led into forest again. And Carley soon became aware that they had at +last left the cut and burned-over district of timberland behind. A cold +wind moaned through the treetops and set the drops of water pattering +down upon her. It lashed her wet face. Carley closed her eyes and sagged +in her seat, mostly oblivious to the passing scenery. "The girls will +never believe this of me," she soliloquized. And indeed she was amazed +at herself. Then thought of Glenn strengthened her. It did not really +matter what she suffered on the way to him. Only she was disgusted at +her lack of stamina, and her appalling sensitiveness to discomfort. + +"Wal, hyar's Oak Creek Canyon," called the driver. + +Carley, rousing out of her weary preoccupation, opened her eyes to see +that the driver had halted at a turn of the road, where apparently it +descended a fearful declivity. + +The very forest-fringed earth seemed to have opened into a deep abyss, +ribbed by red rock walls and choked by steep mats of green timber. The +chasm was a V-shaped split and so deep that looking downward sent at +once a chill and a shudder over Carley. At that point it appeared narrow +and ended in a box. In the other direction, it widened and deepened, +and stretched farther on between tremendous walls of red, and split its +winding floor of green with glimpses of a gleaming creek, bowlder-strewn +and ridged by white rapids. A low mellow roar of rushing waters floated +up to Carley's ears. What a wild, lonely, terrible place! Could Glenn +possibly live down there in that ragged rent in the earth? It frightened +her--the sheer sudden plunge of it from the heights. Far down the gorge +a purple light shone on the forested floor. And on the moment the sun +burst through the clouds and sent a golden blaze down into the depths, +transforming them incalculably. The great cliffs turned gold, the creek +changed to glancing silver, the green of trees vividly freshened, and +in the clefts rays of sunlight burned into the blue shadows. Carley had +never gazed upon a scene like this. Hostile and prejudiced, she yet +felt wrung from her an acknowledgment of beauty and grandeur. But wild, +violent, savage! Not livable! This insulated rift in the crust of the +earth was a gigantic burrow for beasts, perhaps for outlawed men--not +for a civilized person--not for Glenn Kilbourne. + +"Don't be scart, ma'am," spoke up the driver. "It's safe if you're +careful. An' I've druv this manys the time." + +Carley's heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted +assurance of fearlessness. Then the rickety vehicle started down at an +angle that forced her to cling to her seat. + + + +CHAPTER II + +Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin, +gazed in fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes the +wheels on that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the +edge. The brakes squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the +scrape of the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they held back stiff +legged, obedient to the wary call of the driver. + +The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff appeared +to be the worst. It began to widen, with descents less precipitous. Tips +of trees rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight of the blue depths. +Then brush appeared on each side of the road. Gradually Carley's strain +relaxed, and also the muscular contraction by which she had braced +herself in the seat. The horses began to trot again. The wheels rattled. +The road wound around abrupt corners, and soon the green and red wall of +the opposite side of the canyon loomed close. Low roar of running water +rose to Carley's ears. When at length she looked out instead of down she +could see nothing but a mass of green foliage crossed by tree trunks +and branches of brown and gray. Then the vehicle bowled under dark +cool shade, into a tunnel with mossy wet cliff on one side, and +close-standing trees on the other. + +"Reckon we're all right now, onless we meet somebody comin' up," +declared the driver. + +Carley relaxed. She drew a deep breath of relief. She had her first +faint intimation that perhaps her extensive experience of motor cars, +express trains, transatlantic liners, and even a little of airplanes, +did not range over the whole of adventurous life. She was likely to meet +something, entirely new and striking out here in the West. + +The murmur of falling water sounded closer. Presently Carley saw that +the road turned at the notch in the canyon, and crossed a clear swift +stream. Here were huge mossy boulders, and red walls covered by lichens, +and the air appeared dim and moist, and full of mellow, hollow roar. +Beyond this crossing the road descended the west side of the canyon, +drawing away and higher from the creek. Huge trees, the like of which +Carley had never seen, began to stand majestically up out of the gorge, +dwarfing the maples and white-spotted sycamores. The driver called these +great trees yellow pines. + +At last the road led down from the steep slope to the floor of the +canyon. What from far above had appeared only a green timber-choked +cleft proved from close relation to be a wide winding valley, tip and +down, densely forested for the most part, yet having open glades and +bisected from wall to wall by the creek. Every quarter of a mile or so +the road crossed the stream; and at these fords Carley again held on +desperately and gazed out dubiously, for the creek was deep, swift, and +full of bowlders. Neither driver nor horses appeared to mind obstacles. +Carley was splashed and jolted not inconsiderably. They passed through +groves of oak trees, from which the creek manifestly derived its name; +and under gleaming walls, cold, wet, gloomy, and silent; and between +lines of solemn wide-spreading pines. Carley saw deep, still green +pools eddying under huge massed jumble of cliffs, and stretches of white +water, and then, high above the treetops, a wild line of canyon rim, +cold against the sky. She felt shut in from the world, lost in an +unscalable rut of the earth. Again the sunlight had failed, and the gray +gloom of the canyon oppressed her. It struck Carley as singular that she +could not help being affected by mere weather, mere heights and depths, +mere rock walls and pine trees, and rushing water. For really, what +had these to do with her? These were only physical things that she was +passing. Nevertheless, although she resisted sensation, she was more and +more shot through and through with the wildness and savageness of this +canyon. + +A sharp turn of the road to the right disclosed a slope down the creek, +across which showed orchards and fields, and a cottage nestling at the +base of the wall. The ford at this crossing gave Carley more concern +than any that had been passed, for there was greater volume and depth +of water. One of the horses slipped on the rocks, plunged up and on with +great splash. They crossed, however, without more mishap to Carley than +further acquaintance with this iciest of waters. From this point the +driver turned back along the creek, passed between orchards and fields, +and drove along the base of the red wall to come suddenly upon a large +rustic house that had been hidden from Carley's sight. It sat almost +against the stone cliff, from which poured a white foamy sheet of water. +The house was built of slabs with the bark on, and it had a lower and +upper porch running all around, at least as far as the cliff. Green +growths from the rock wall overhung the upper porch. A column of blue +smoke curled lazily upward from a stone chimney. On one of the porch +posts hung a sign with rude lettering: "Lolomi Lodge." + +"Hey, Josh, did you fetch the flour?" called a woman's voice from +inside. + +"Hullo I Reckon I didn't forgit nothin'," replied the man, as he got +down. "An' say, Mrs. Hutter, hyar's a young lady from Noo Yorrk." + +That latter speech of the driver's brought Mrs. Hutter out on the porch. +"Flo, come here," she called to some one evidently near at hand. And +then she smilingly greeted Carley. + +"Get down an' come in, miss," she said. "I'm sure glad to see you." + +Carley, being stiff and cold, did not very gracefully disengage herself +from the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch she +saw that Mrs. Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, with +strong face full of fine wavy lines, and kind dark eyes. + +"I'm Miss Burch," said Carley. + +"You're the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace," +declared the woman, heartily. "I'm sure glad to meet you, an' my +daughter Flo will be, too." + +That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. "Yes, I'm Glenn +Kilbourne's fiancee. I've come West to surprise him. Is he here.... +Is--is he well?" + +"Fine. I saw him yesterday. He's changed a great deal from what he was +at first. Most all the last few months. I reckon you won't know him.... +But you're wet an' cold an' you look fagged. Come right in to the fire." + +"Thank you; I'm all right," returned Carley. + +At the doorway they encountered a girl of lithe and robust figure, quick +in her movements. Carley was swift to see the youth and grace of her; +and then a face that struck Carley as neither pretty nor beautiful, but +still wonderfully attractive. + +"Flo, here's Miss Burch," burst out Mrs. Hutter, with cheerful +importance. "Glenn Kilbourne's girl come all the way from New York to +surprise him!" + +"Oh, Carley, I'm shore happy to meet you!" said the girl, in a voice of +slow drawling richness. "I know you. Glenn has told me all about you." + +If this greeting, sweet and warm as it seemed, was a shock to Carley, +she gave no sign. But as she murmured something in reply she looked with +all a woman's keenness into the face before her. Flo Hutter had a fair +skin generously freckled; a mouth and chin too firmly cut to suggest +a softer feminine beauty; and eyes of clear light hazel, penetrating, +frank, fearless. Her hair was very abundant, almost silver-gold in +color, and it was either rebellious or showed lack of care. Carley +liked the girl's looks and liked the sincerity of her greeting; +but instinctively she reacted antagonistically because of the frank +suggestion of intimacy with Glenn. + +But for that she would have been spontaneous and friendly rather than +restrained. + +They ushered Carley into a big living room and up to a fire of blazing +logs, where they helped divest her of the wet wraps. And all the time +they talked in the solicitous way natural to women who were kind and +unused to many visitors. Then Mrs. Hutter bustled off to make a cup of +hot coffee while Flo talked. + +"We'll shore give you the nicest room--with a sleeping porch right under +the cliff where the water falls. It'll sing you to sleep. Of course you +needn't use the bed outdoors until it's warmer. Spring is late here, you +know, and we'll have nasty weather yet. You really happened on Oak Creek +at its least attractive season. But then it's always--well, just Oak +Creek. You'll come to know." + +"I dare say I'll remember my first sight of it and the ride down that +cliff road," said Carley, with a wan smile. + +"Oh, that's nothing to what you'll see and do," returned Flo, knowingly. +"We've had Eastern tenderfeet here before. And never was there a one of +them who didn't come to love Arizona." + +"Tenderfoot! It hadn't occurred to me. But of course--" murmured Carley. + +Then Mrs. Hutter returned, carrying a tray, which she set upon a chair, +and drew to Carley's side. "Eat an' drink," she said, as if these +actions were the cardinally important ones of life. "Flo, you carry her +bags up to that west room we always give to some particular person +we want to love Lolomi." Next she threw sticks of wood upon the fire, +making it crackle and blaze, then seated herself near Carley and beamed +upon her. + +"You'll not mind if we call you Carley?" she asked, eagerly. + +"Oh, indeed no! I--I'd like it," returned Carley, made to feel friendly +and at home in spite of herself. + +"You see it's not as if you were just a stranger," went on Mrs. Hutter. +"Tom--that's Flo's father--took a likin' to Glenn Kilbourne when he +first came to Oak Creek over a year ago. I wonder if you all know how +sick that soldier boy was.... Well, he lay on his back for two solid +weeks--in the room we're givin' you. An' I for one didn't think he'd +ever get up. But he did. An' he got better. An' after a while he went +to work for Tom. Then six months an' more ago he invested in the sheep +business with Tom. He lived with us until he built his cabin up West +Fork. He an' Flo have run together a good deal, an' naturally he told +her about you. So you see you're not a stranger. An' we want you to feel +you're with friends." + +"I thank you, Mrs. Hutter," replied Carley, feelingly. "I never could +thank you enough for being good to Glenn. I did not know he was so--so +sick. At first he wrote but seldom." + +"Reckon he never wrote you or told you what he did in the war," declared +Mrs. Hutter. + +"Indeed he never did!" + +"Well, I'll tell you some day. For Tom found out all about him. Got some +of it from a soldier who came to Flagstaff for lung trouble. He'd been +in the same company with Glenn. We didn't know this boy's name while he +was in Flagstaff. But later Tom found out. John Henderson. He was only +twenty-two, a fine lad. An' he died in Phoenix. We tried to get him +out here. But the boy wouldn't live on charity. He was always expectin' +money--a war bonus, whatever that was. It didn't come. He was a clerk at +the El Tovar for a while. Then he came to Flagstaff. But it was too cold +an' he stayed there too long." + +"Too bad," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to the +suffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few months, +and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress Carley. Always +she had turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery of unfortunates +was as disturbing almost as direct contact with disease and squalor. But +it had begun to dawn upon Carley that there might occur circumstances of +life, in every way affronting her comfort and happiness, which it would +be impossible to turn her back upon. + +At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struck +with the girl's singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure poise +and joy that seemed to emanate from her presence. + +"I've made a fire in your little stove," she said. "There's water +heating. Now won't you come up and change those traveling clothes. +You'll want to fix up for Glenn, won't you?" + +Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank and +unsophisticated, and somehow refreshing. Carley rose. + +"You are both very good to receive me as a friend," she said. "I hope +I shall not disappoint you.... Yes, I do want to improve my appearance +before Glenn sees me.... Is there any way I can send word to him--by +someone who has not seen me?" + +"There shore is. I'll send Charley, one of our hired boys." + +"Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York to +see him, and it is very important." + +Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gave +Carley a little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust and +stifling thing. + +Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallway +to a room that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of falling +water assailed her ears. Through the open door she saw across the porch +to a white tumbling lacy veil of water falling, leaping, changing, so +close that it seemed to touch the heavy pole railing of the porch. + +This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no ceiling. +But the rough-hewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped down closely. +The furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the floor. The bed +with its woolly clean blankets and the white pillows looked inviting. + +"Is this where Glenn lay--when he was sick?" queried Carley. + +"Yes," replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. "I ought to +tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made unhappy +now.... Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his side--for a +while there--when life was so bad." + +She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short billets +of wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep an eye on +it so that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to herself. + +Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of her +heart every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon now +to be, but it was not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have a +difficult approach to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was +so different from her regular life. Besides she was tired. But these +explanations did not suffice. There was a pang in her breast which must +owe its origin to the fact that Glenn Kilbourne had been ill in this +little room and some other girl than Carley Burch had nursed him. "Am I +jealous?" she whispered. "No!" But she knew in her heart that she lied. +A woman could no more help being jealous, under such circumstances, than +she could help the beat and throb of her blood. Nevertheless, Carley was +glad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she would be grateful to her +for that kindness. + +Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bags +and hung her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then she +lay down to rest, with no intention of slumber. But there was a strange +magic in the fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in +the feel of the bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur of +the waterfall. She fell asleep. When she awakened it was five o'clock. +The fire in the stove was out, but the water was still warm. She bathed +and dressed, not without care, yet as swiftly as was her habit at home; +and she wore white because Glenn had always liked her best in white. But +it was assuredly not a gown to wear in a country house where draughts of +cold air filled the unheated rooms and halls. So she threw round her +a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful bars becoming to her dark eyes and +hair. + +All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be +permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of +waking life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, could +be wholly free of that sound. It vaguely tormented Carley, yet was not +uncomfortable. She went out upon the porch. The small alcove space +held a bed and a rustic chair. Above her the peeled poles of the roof +descended to within a few feet of her head. She had to lean over the +rail of the porch to look up. The green and red rock wall sheered +ponderously near. The waterfall showed first at the notch of a fissure, +where the cliff split; and down over smooth places the water gleamed, +to narrow in a crack with little drops, and suddenly to leap into a thin +white sheet. + +Out from the porch the view was restricted to glimpses between the +pines, and beyond to the opposite wall of the canyon. How shut-in, how +walled in this home! + +"In summer it might be good to spend a couple of weeks here," +soliloquized Carley. "But to live here? Heavens! A person might as well +be buried." + +Heavy footsteps upon the porch below accompanied by a man's voice +quickened Carley's pulse. Did they belong to Glenn? After a strained +second she decided not. Nevertheless, the acceleration of her blood and +an unwonted glow of excitement, long a stranger to her, persisted as she +left the porch and entered the boarded hall. How gray and barn-like this +upper part of the house! From the head of the stairway, however, the big +living room presented a cheerful contrast. There were warm colors, some +comfortable rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and an open fire +which alone would have dispelled the raw gloom of the day. + +A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had a +clean-shaven face that might have been hard and stern but for his smile, +and one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo's. + +"I'm Tom Hutter, an' I'm shore glad to welcome you to Lolomi, Miss +Carley," he said. His voice was deep and slow. There were ease and force +in his presence, and the grip he gave Carley's hand was that of a +man who made no distinction in hand-shaking. Carley, quick in her +perceptions, instantly liked him and sensed in him a strong personality. +She greeted him in turn and expressed her thanks for his goodness to +Glenn. Naturally Carley expected him to say something about her fiance, +but he did not. + +"Well, Miss Carley, if you don't mind, I'll say you're prettier than +your picture," said Hutter. "An' that is shore sayin' a lot. All the +sheep herders in the country have taken a peep at your picture. Without +permission, you understand." + +"I'm greatly flattered," laughed Carley. + +"We're glad you've come," replied Hutter, simply. "I just got back +from the East myself. Chicago an' Kansas City. I came to Arizona from +Illinois over thirty years ago. An' this was my first trip since. Reckon +I've not got back my breath yet. Times have changed, Miss Carley. Times +an' people!" + +Mrs. Hutter bustled in from the kitchen, where manifestly she had been +importantly engaged. "For the land's sakes!" she exclaimed, fervently, +as she threw up her hands at sight of Carley. Her expression was indeed +a compliment, but there was a suggestion of shock in it. Then Flo came +in. She wore a simple gray gown that reached the top of her high shoes. + +"Carley, don't mind mother," said Flo. "She means your dress is lovely. +Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin' up the +road." + +Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tall +man striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was his +walk--an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible. +She recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. She +watched him cross the road, face the house. How changed! No--this was +not Glenn Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughly +garbed, heavy limbed, quite different from the Glenn she remembered. He +mounted the porch steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face. +Yes--Glenn! Hot blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins. +Wheeling away, she backed against the wall behind the door and held up +a warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then, +to see something in Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman in +only one way! + +A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted. + +"Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly. + +His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley's +ears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled +out that she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably +changed--not in the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm, +but in contour of cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line. +Carley's heart swelled with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see +the sad fixed hopelessness, the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore +the restraint and nonchalance upon which Carley prided herself sustained +eclipse. + +"Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could not +have steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had +anticipated. + +Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then--no matter +how unreasonable or exacting had been Carley's longings, they were +satisfied. + +"You!" he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face. + +Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but +forgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than +the all-satisfying assurance to her woman's heart that she was still +beloved, welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook her +to her depths. It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and to +the West that had restored him. + +"Carley! I couldn't believe it was you," he declared, releasing her from +his close embrace, yet still holding her. + +"Yes, Glenn--it's I--all you've left of me," she replied, tremulously, +and she sought with unsteady hands to put up her dishevelled hair. +"You--you big sheep herder! You Goliath!" + +"I never was so knocked off my pins," he said. "A lady to see me--from +New York!... Of course it had to be you. But I couldn't believe. Carley, +you were good to come." + +Somehow the soft, warm look of his dark eyes hurt her. New and strange +indeed it was to her, as were other things about him. Why had she not +come West sooner? She disengaged herself from his hold and moved away, +striving for the composure habitual with her. Flo Hutter was standing +before the fire, looking down. Mrs. Hutter beamed upon Carley. + +"Now let's have supper," she said. + +"Reckon Miss Carley can't eat now, after that hug Glenn gave her," +drawled Tom Hutter. "I was some worried. You see Glenn has gained +seventy pounds in six months. An' he doesn't know his strength." + +"Seventy pounds!" exclaimed Carley, gayly. "I thought it was more." + +"Carley, you must excuse my violence," said Glenn. "I've been hugging +sheep. That is, when I shear a sheep I have to hold him." + +They all laughed, and so the moment of readjustment passed. Presently +Carley found herself sitting at table, directly across from Flo. A +pearly whiteness was slowly warming out of the girl's face. Her frank +clear eyes met Carley's and they had nothing to hide. Carley's first +requisite for character in a woman was that she be a thoroughbred. She +lacked it often enough herself to admire it greatly in another woman. +And that moment saw a birth of respect and sincere liking in her for +this Western girl. If Flo Hutter ever was a rival she would be an honest +one. + +Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he "reckoned +on general principles it was his hunch to go to bed." Mrs. Hutter +suddenly discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her cool +sweet drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, "Shore you two will want +to spoon." + +"Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for that," +declared Glenn. + +"Too bad! Reckon I can't see how love could ever be old-fashioned. Good +night, Glenn. Good night, Carley." + +Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the light +from the lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to Carley. +It expressed unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up the +stairs to disappear. + +"Glenn, is that girl in love with you?" asked Carley, bluntly. + +To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilled +her, yet nettled her a little. + +"If that isn't like you!" he ejaculated. "Your very first words after we +are left alone! It brings back the East, Carley." + +"Probably recall to memory will be good for you," returned Carley. "But +tell me. Is she in love with you?" + +"Why, no, certainly not!" replied Glenn. "Anyway, how could I answer +such a question? It just made me laugh, that's all." + +"Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a pretty +girl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle--before we became engaged," +said Carley. + +"Old times! How long ago they seem!... Carley, it's sure wonderful to +see you." + +"How do you like my gown?" asked Carley, pirouetting for his benefit. + +"Well, what little there is of it is beautiful," he replied, with a slow +smile. "I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?" + +"Yes. I got the gown for you. And I'll never wear it except for you." + +"Same old coquette--same old eternal feminine," he said, half sadly. +"You know when you look stunning.... But, Carley, the cut of that--or +rather the abbreviation of it--inclines me to think that style for +women's clothes has not changed for the better. In fact, it's worse than +two years ago in Paris and later in New York. Where will you women draw +the line?" + +"Women are slaves to the prevailing mode," rejoined Carley. "I don't +imagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion went on +dictating." + +"But would they care so much--if they had to work--plenty of work--and +children?" inquired Glenn, wistfully. + +"Glenn! Work and children for modern women? Why, you are dreaming!" said +Carley, with a laugh. + +She saw him gaze thoughtfully into the glowing embers of the fire, and +as she watched him her quick intuition grasped a subtle change in his +mood. It brought a sternness to his face. She could hardly realize she +was looking at the Glenn Kilbourne of old. + +"Come close to the fire," he said, and pulled up a chair for her. Then +he threw more wood upon the red coals. "You must be careful not to catch +cold out here. The altitude makes a cold dangerous. And that gown is no +protection." + +"Glenn, one chair used to be enough for us," she said, archly, standing +beside him. + +But he did not respond to her hint, and, a little affronted, she +accepted the proffered chair. Then he began to ask questions rapidly. He +was eager for news from home--from his people--from old friends. However +he did not inquire of Carley about her friends. She talked unremittingly +for an hour, before she satisfied his hunger. But when her turn came to +ask questions she found him reticent. + +He had fallen upon rather hard days at first out here in the West; then +his health had begun to improve; and as soon as he was able to work his +condition rapidly changed for the better; and now he was getting along +pretty well. Carley felt hurt at his apparent disinclination to confide +in her. The strong cast of his face, as if it had been chiseled in +bronze; the stern set of his lips and the jaw that protruded lean and +square cut; the quiet masked light of his eyes; the coarse roughness +of his brown hands, mute evidence of strenuous labors--these all gave a +different impression from his brief remarks about himself. Lastly there +was a little gray in the light-brown hair over his temples. Glenn was +only twenty-seven, yet he looked ten years older. Studying him so, with +the memory of earlier years in her mind, she was forced to admit that +she liked him infinitely more as he was now. He seemed proven. Something +had made him a man. Had it been his love for her, or the army service, +or the war in France, or the struggle for life and health afterwards? Or +had it been this rugged, uncouth West? Carley felt insidious jealousy of +this last possibility. She feared this West. She was going to hate it. +She had womanly intuition enough to see in Flo Hutter a girl somehow to +be reckoned with. Still, Carley would not acknowledge to herself that +his simple, unsophisticated Western girl could possibly be a rival. +Carley did not need to consider the fact that she had been spoiled by +the attention of men. It was not her vanity that precluded Flo Hutter as +a rival. + +Gradually the conversation drew to a lapse, and it suited Carley to +let it be so. She watched Glenn as he gazed thoughtfully into the +amber depths of the fire. What was going on in his mind? Carley's old +perplexity suddenly had rebirth. And with it came an unfamiliar fear +which she could not smother. Every moment that she sat there beside +Glenn she was realizing more and more a yearning, passionate love for +him. The unmistakable manifestation of his joy at sight of her, +the strong, almost rude expression of his love, had called to some +responsive, but hitherto unplumbed deeps of her. If it had not been +for these undeniable facts Carley would have been panic-stricken. They +reassured her, yet only made her state of mind more dissatisfied. + +"Carley, do you still go in for dancing?" Glenn asked, presently, with +his thoughtful eyes turning to her. + +"Of course. I like dancing, and it's about all the exercise I get," she +replied. + +"Have the dances changed--again?" + +"It's the music, perhaps, that changes the dancing. Jazz is becoming +popular. And about all the crowd dances now is an infinite variation of +fox-trot." + +"No waltzing?" + +"I don't believe I waltzed once this winter." + +"Jazz? That's a sort of tinpanning, jiggly stuff, isn't it?" + +"Glenn, it's the fever of the public pulse," replied Carley. "The +graceful waltz, like the stately minuet, flourished back in the days +when people rested rather than raced." + +"More's the pity," said Glenn. Then after a moment, in which his gaze +returned to the fire, he inquired rather too casually, "Does Morrison +still chase after you?" + +"Glenn, I'm neither old--nor married," she replied, laughing. + +"No, that's true. But if you were married it wouldn't make any +difference to Morrison." + +Carley could not detect bitterness or jealousy in his voice. She would +not have been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark, +however, that he was going to be harder than ever to understand. +What had she said or done to make him retreat within himself, aloof, +impersonal, unfamiliar? He did not impress her as loverlike. What +irony of fate was this that held her there yearning for his kisses and +caresses as never before, while he watched the fire, and talked as to +a mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and far away? Or did she merely +imagine that? Only one thing could she be sure of at that moment, and it +was that pride would never be her ally. + +"Glenn, look here," she said, sliding her chair close to his and holding +out her left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond on the +third finger. + +He took her hand in his and pressed it, and smiled at her. "Yes, Carley, +it's a beautiful, soft little hand. But I think I'd like it better if it +were strong and brown, and coarse on the inside--from useful work." + +"Like Flo Hutter's?" queried Carley. + +"Yes." + +Carley looked proudly into his eyes. "People are born in different +stations. I respect your little Western friend, Glenn, but could I wash +and sweep, milk cows and chop wood, and all that sort of thing?" + +"I suppose you couldn't," he admitted, with a blunt little laugh. + +"Would you want me to?" she asked. + +"Well, that's hard to say," he replied, knitting his brows. "I hardly +know. I think it depends on you.... But if you did do such work wouldn't +you be happier?" + +"Happier! Why Glenn, I'd be miserable!... But listen. It wasn't my +beautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my engagement +ring." + +"Oh!--Well?" he went on, slowly. + +"I've never had it off since you left New York," she said, softly. +"You gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on my +twenty-second birthday. You said it would take two months' salary to pay +the bill." + +"It sure did," he retorted, with a hint of humor. + +"Glenn, during the war it was not so--so very hard to wear this ring as +an engagement ring should be worn," said Carley, growing more earnest. +"But after the war--especially after your departure West it was terribly +hard to be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was a +let-down in all women. Oh, no one need tell me! There was. And men were +affected by that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York was +wild during the year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.--Well, I +gadded, danced, dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same as +the other women in our crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested. +Excitement seemed to be happiness--Glenn, I am not making any plea +to excuse all that. But I want you to know--how under trying +circumstances--I was absolutely true to you. Understand me. I mean true +as regards love. Through it all I loved you just the same. And now I'm +with you, it seems, oh, so much more!... Your last letter hurt me. I +don't know just how. But I came West to see you--to tell you this--and +to ask you.... Do you want this ring back?" + +"Certainly not," he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading over +his face. + +"Then--you love me?" she whispered. + +"Yes--I love you," he returned, deliberately. "And in spite of all you +say--very probably more than you love me.... But you, like all women, +make love and its expression the sole object of life. Carley, I have +been concerned with keeping my body from the grave and my soul from +hell." + +"But--dear--you're well now?" she returned, with trembling lips. + +"Yes, I've almost pulled out." + +"Then what is wrong?" + +"Wrong?--With me or you," he queried, with keen, enigmatical glance upon +her. + +"What is wrong between us? There is something." + +"Carley, a man who has been on the verge--as I have been--seldom or +never comes back to happiness. But perhaps--" + +"You frighten me," cried Carley, and, rising, she sat upon the arm of +his chair and encircled his neck with her arms. "How can I help if I do +not understand? Am I so miserably little?... Glenn, must I tell you? No +woman can live without love. I need to be loved. That's all that's wrong +with me." + +"Carley, you are still an imperious, mushy girl," replied Glenn, taking +her into his arms. "I need to be loved, too. But that's not what is +wrong with me. You'll have to find it out yourself." + +"You're a dear old Sphinx," she retorted. + +"Listen, Carley," he said, earnestly. "About this love-making stuff. +Please don't misunderstand me. I love you. I'm starved for your kisses. +But--is it right to ask them?" + +"Right! Aren't we engaged? And don't I want to give them?" + +"If I were only sure we'd be married!" he said, in low, tense voice, as +if speaking more to himself. + +"Married!" cried Carley, convulsively clasping him. "Of course we'll be +married. Glenn, you wouldn't jilt me?" + +"Carley, what I mean is that you might never really marry me," he +answered, seriously. + +"Oh, if that's all you need be sure of, Glenn Kilbourne, you may begin +to make love to me now." + + +It was late when Carley went up to her room. And she was in such a +softened mood, so happy and excited and yet disturbed in mind, that the +coldness and the darkness did not matter in the least. She undressed +in pitchy blackness, stumbling over chair and bed, feeling for what she +needed. And in her mood this unusual proceeding was fun. When ready for +bed she opened the door to take a peep out. Through the dense blackness +the waterfall showed dimly opaque. Carley felt a soft mist wet her face. +The low roar of the falling water seemed to envelop her. Under the cliff +wall brooded impenetrable gloom. But out above the treetops shone great +stars, wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a piercing contrast +to the deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed into an absolutely +dead silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only cold was it that made +Carley shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden this canyon! + +Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets. +Relaxation and thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood, +the beat and throb and swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. In +the lonely darkness of her room she might have faced the truth of her +strangely renewed and augmented love for Glenn Kilbourne. But she was +more concerned with her happiness. She had won him back. Her presence, +her love had overcome his restraint. She thrilled in the sweet +consciousness of her woman's conquest. How splendid he was! To hold +back physical tenderness, the simple expressions of love, because he had +feared they might unduly influence her! He had grown in many ways. +She must be careful to reach up to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter's +toil-hardened hands! Was that significance somehow connected with +the rift in the lute? For Carley admitted to herself that there was +something amiss, something incomprehensible, something intangible that +obtruded its menace into her dream of future happiness. Still, what had +she to fear, so long as she could be with Glenn? + +And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, the +questions--was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blind +to something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to come +held promise of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise they +seemed full of a portent of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, of +lessons that would make life significant for her. + + + +CHAPTER III + +Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room. The raising of +sleepy eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, in +the act of lighting a fire. + +"Mawnin', Carley," she drawled. "It's shore cold. Reckon it'll snow +today, worse luck, just because you're here. Take my hunch and stay in +bed till the fire burns up." + +"I shall do no such thing," declared Carley, heroically. + +"We're afraid you'll take cold," said Flo. "This is desert country with +high altitude. Spring is here when the sun shines. But it's only shinin' +in streaks these days. That means winter, really. Please be good." + +"Well, it doesn't require much self-denial to stay here awhile longer," +replied Carley, lazily. + +Flo left with a parting admonition not to let the stove get red-hot. And +Carley lay snuggled in the warm blankets, dreading the ordeal of getting +out into that cold bare room. Her nose was cold. When her nose grew +cold, it being a faithful barometer as to temperature, Carley knew there +was frost in the air. She preferred summer. Steam-heated rooms with +hothouse flowers lending their perfume had certainly not trained Carley +for primitive conditions. She had a spirit, however, that was waxing +a little rebellious to all this intimation as to her susceptibility to +colds and her probable weakness under privation. Carley got up. Her +bare feet landed upon the board floor instead of the Navajo rug, and +she thought she had encountered cold stone. Stove and hot water +notwithstanding, by the time she was half dressed she was also half +frozen. "Some actor fellow once said w-when you w-went West you were +c-camping out," chattered Carley. "Believe me, he said something." + +The fact was Carley had never camped out. Her set played golf, rode +horseback, motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for +uncomfortable trips. The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as +warm and luxurious as Carley's own home. Carley now missed many things. +And assuredly her flesh was weak. It cost her effort of will and real +pain to finish lacing her boots. As she had made an engagement with +Glenn to visit his cabin, she had donned an outdoor suit. She wondered +if the cold had anything to do with the perceptible diminishing of the +sound of the waterfall. Perhaps some of the water had frozen, like her +fingers. + +Carley went downstairs to the living room, and made no effort to resist +a rush to the open fire. Flo and her mother were amused at Carley's +impetuosity. "You'll like that stingin' of the air after you get used +to it," said Mrs. Hutter. Carley had her doubts. When she was thoroughly +thawed out she discovered an appetite quite unusual for her, and she +enjoyed her breakfast. Then it was time to sally forth to meet Glenn. + +"It's pretty sharp this mawnin'," said Flo. "You'll need gloves and +sweater." + +Having fortified herself with these, Carley asked how to find West Fork +Canyon. + +"It's down the road a little way," replied Flo. "A great narrow canyon +opening on the right side. You can't miss it." + +Flo accompanied her as far as the porch steps. A queer-looking +individual was slouching along with ax over his shoulder. + +"There's Charley," said Flo. "He'll show you." Then she whispered: +"He's sort of dotty sometimes. A horse kicked him once. But mostly he's +sensible." + +At Flo's call the fellow halted with a grin. He was long, lean, loose +jointed, dressed in blue overalls stuck into the tops of muddy boots, +and his face was clear olive without beard or line. His brow bulged a +little, and from under it peered out a pair of wistful brown eyes that +reminded Carley of those of a dog she had once owned. + +"Wal, it ain't a-goin' to be a nice day," remarked Charley, as he tried +to accommodate his strides to Carley's steps. + +"How can you tell?" asked Carley. "It looks clear and bright." + +"Naw, this is a dark mawnin'. Thet's a cloudy sun. We'll hev snow on an' +off." + +"Do you mind bad weather?" + +"Me? All the same to me. Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf +round a big fire at night." + +"I like a big fire, too." + +"Ever camped out?" he asked. + +"Not what you'd call the real thing," replied Carley. + +"Wal, thet's too bad. Reckon it'll be tough fer you," he went on, +kindly. "There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago an' she had a +hell of a time. They all joked her, 'cept me, an' played tricks on her. +An' on her side she was always puttin' her foot in it. I was shore sorry +fer her." + +"You were very kind to be an exception," murmured Carley. + +"You look out fer Tom Hutter, an' I reckon Flo ain't so darn above +layin' traps fer you. 'Specially as she's sweet on your beau. I seen +them together a lot." + +"Yes?" interrogated Carley, encouragingly. + +"Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek. I +helped him build his cabin. We've hunted some together. Did you ever +hunt?" + +"No." + +"Wal, you've shore missed a lot of fun," he said. "Turkey huntin'. +Thet's what fetches the gurls. I reckon because turkeys are so good to +eat. The old gobblers hev begun to gobble now. I'll take you gobbler +huntin' if you'd like to go." + +"I'm sure I would." + +"There's good trout fishin' along heah a little later," he said, +pointing to the stream. "Crick's too high now. I like West Fork best. +I've ketched some lammin' big ones up there." + +Carley was amused and interested. She could not say that Charley +had shown any indication of his mental peculiarity to her. It took +considerable restraint not to lead him to talk more about Flo and Glenn. +Presently they reached the turn in the road, opposite the cottage Carley +had noticed yesterday, and here her loquacious escort halted. + +"You take the trail heah," he said, pointing it out, "an' foller it into +West Fork. So long, an' don't forget we're goin' huntin' turkeys." + +Carley smiled her thanks, and, taking to the trail, she stepped out +briskly, now giving attention to her surroundings. The canyon had +widened, and the creek with its deep thicket of green and white had +sheered to the left. On her right the canyon wall appeared to be lifting +higher--and higher. She could not see it well, owing to intervening +treetops. The trail led her through a grove of maples and sycamores, out +into an open park-like bench that turned to the right toward the cliff. +Suddenly Carley saw a break in the red wall. It was the intersecting +canyon, West Fork. What a narrow red-walled gateway! Huge pine trees +spread wide gnarled branches over her head. The wind made soft rush in +their tops, sending the brown needles lightly on the air. Carley turned +the bulging corner, to be halted by a magnificent spectacle. It seemed +a mountain wall loomed over her. It was the western side of this canyon, +so lofty that Carley had to tip back her head to see the top. She swept +her astonished gaze down the face of this tremendous red mountain wall +and then slowly swept it upward again. This phenomenon of a cliff seemed +beyond the comprehension of her sight. It looked a mile high. The +few trees along its bold rampart resembled short spear-pointed bushes +outlined against the steel gray of sky. Ledges, caves, seams, cracks, +fissures, beetling red brows, yellow crumbling crags, benches of green +growths and niches choked with brush, and bold points where single +lonely pine trees grew perilously, and blank walls a thousand feet +across their shadowed faces--these features gradually took shape in +Carley's confused sight, until the colossal mountain front stood up +before her in all its strange, wild, magnificent ruggedness and beauty. + +"Arizona! Perhaps this is what he meant," murmured Carley. "I never +dreamed of anything like this.... But, oh! it overshadows me--bears me +down! I could never have a moment's peace under it." + +It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with +their remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest +there, if that were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There +were places, then, that the desecrating hands of man could not touch. +The dark caves were mystically potent in their vacant staring out at +the world beneath them. The crumbling crags, the toppling ledges, the +leaning rocks all threatened to come thundering down at the breath of +wind. How deep and soft the red color in contrast with the green! How +splendid the sheer bold uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found herself +marveling at the forces that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left +this monument to nature. + +"Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!" called a gay voice. "If the back wall +of my yard so halts you--what will you ever do when you see the Painted +Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand Canyon?" + +"Oh, Glenn, where are you?" cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at +hand. But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived +her. Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek she +had not before noticed. + +"Come on," he called. "I want to see you cross the stepping stones." + +Carley ran ahead, down a little slope of clean red rock, to the shore of +the green water. It was clear, swift, deep in some places and shallow in +others, with white wreathes or ripples around the rocks evidently placed +there as a means to cross. Carley drew back aghast. + +"Glenn, I could never make it," she called. + +"Come on, my Alpine climber," he taunted. "Will you let Arizona daunt +you?" + +"Do you want me to fall in and catch cold?" she cried, desperately. + +"Carley, big women might even cross the bad places of modern life on +stepping stones of their dead selves!" he went on, with something of +mockery. "Surely a few physical steps are not beyond you." + +"Say, are you mangling Tennyson or just kidding me?" she demanded +slangily. + +"My love, Flo could cross here with her eyes shut." + +That thrust spurred Carley to action. His words were jest, yet they held +a hint of earnest. With her heart at her throat Carley stepped on the +first rock, and, poising, she calculated on a running leap from stone to +stone. Once launched, she felt she was falling downhill. She swayed, she +splashed, she slipped; and clearing the longest leap from the last stone +to shore she lost her balance and fell into Glenn's arms. His kisses +drove away both her panic and her resentment. + +"By Jove! I didn't think you'd even attempt it!" he declared, manifestly +pleased. "I made sure I'd have to pack you over--in fact, rather liked +the idea." + +"I wouldn't advise you to employ any such means again--to dare me," she +retorted. + +"That's a nifty outdoor suit you've on," he said, admiringly. "I was +wondering what you'd wear. I like short outing skirts for women, rather +than trousers. The service sort of made the fair sex dippy about pants." + +"It made them dippy about more than that," she replied. "You and I will +never live to see the day that women recover their balance." + +"I agree with you," replied Glenn. + +Carley locked her arm in his. "Honey, I want to have a good time today. +Cut out all the other women stuff.... Take me to see your little gray +home in the West. Or is it gray?" + +He laughed. "Why, yes, it's gray, just about. The logs have bleached +some." + +Glenn led her away up a trail that climbed between bowlders, and +meandered on over piny mats of needles under great, silent, spreading +pines; and closer to the impondering mountain wall, where at the base of +the red rock the creek murmured strangely with hollow gurgle, where +the sun had no chance to affect the cold damp gloom; and on through +sweet-smelling woods, out into the sunlight again, and across a wider +breadth of stream; and up a slow slope covered with stately pines, to a +little cabin that faced the west. + +"Here we are, sweetheart," said Glenn. "Now we shall see what you are +made of." + +Carley was non-committal as to that. Her intense interest precluded any +humor at this moment. Not until she actually saw the log cabin Glenn had +erected with his own hands had she been conscious of any great interest. +But sight of it awoke something unaccustomed in Carley. As she stepped +into the cabin her heart was not acting normally for a young woman who +had no illusions about love in a cottage. + +Glenn's cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty long. +Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There was a +small window opposite the door. In one corner was a couch of poles, with +green tips of pine boughs peeping from under the blankets. The floor +consisted of flat rocks laid irregularly, with many spaces of earth +showing between. The open fireplace appeared too large for the room, +but the very bigness of it, as well as the blazing sticks and glowing +embers, appealed strongly to Carley. A rough-hewn log formed the mantel, +and on it Carley's picture held the place of honor. Above this a rifle +lay across deer antlers. Carley paused here in her survey long enough to +kiss Glenn and point to her photograph. + +"You couldn't have pleased me more." + +To the left of the fireplace was a rude cupboard of shelves, packed with +boxes, cans, bags, and utensils. Below the cupboard, hung upon pegs, +were blackened pots and pans, a long-handled skillet, and a bucket. +Glenn's table was a masterpiece. There was no danger of knocking it +over. It consisted of four poles driven into the ground, upon which had +been nailed two wide slabs. This table showed considerable evidence of +having been scrubbed scrupulously clean. There were two low stools, made +out of boughs, and the seats had been covered with woolly sheep hide. In +the right-hand corner stood a neat pile of firewood, cut with an ax, +and beyond this hung saddle and saddle blanket, bridle and spurs. An old +sombrero was hooked upon the pommel of the saddle. Upon the wall, higher +up, hung a lantern, resting in a coil of rope that Carley took to be a +lasso. Under a shelf upon which lay a suitcase hung some rough wearing +apparel. + +Carley noted that her picture and the suit case were absolutely the only +physical evidences of Glenn's connection with his Eastern life. That had +an unaccountable effect upon Carley. What had she expected? Then, after +another survey of the room, she began to pester Glenn with questions. He +had to show her the spring outside and the little bench with basin and +soap. Sight of his soiled towel made her throw up her hands. She sat on +the stools. She lay on the couch. She rummaged into the contents of the +cupboard. She threw wood on the fire. Then, finally, having exhausted +her search and inquiry, she flopped down on one of the stools to gaze at +Glenn in awe and admiration and incredulity. + +"Glenn--you've actually lived here!" she ejaculated. + +"Since last fall before the snow came," he said, smiling. + +"Snow! Did it snow?" she inquired. + +"Well, I guess. I was snowed in for a week." + +"Why did you choose this lonely place--way off from the Lodge?" she +asked, slowly. + +"I wanted to be by myself," he replied, briefly. + +"You mean this is a sort of camp-out place?" + +"Carley, I call it my home," he replied, and there was a low, strong +sweetness in his voice she had never heard before. + +That silenced her for a while. She went to the door and gazed up at the +towering wall, more wonderful than ever, and more fearful, too, in +her sight. Presently tears dimmed her eyes. She did not understand her +feeling; she was ashamed of it; she hid it from Glenn. Indeed, there was +something terribly wrong between her and Glenn, and it was not in him. +This cabin he called home gave her a shock which would take time to +analyze. At length she turned to him with gay utterance upon her +lips. She tried to put out of her mind a dawning sense that this +close-to-the-earth habitation, this primitive dwelling, held strange +inscrutable power over a self she had never divined she possessed. The +very stones in the hearth seemed to call out from some remote past, +and the strong sweet smell of burnt wood thrilled to the marrow of her +bones. How little she knew of herself! But she had intelligence enough +to understand that there was a woman in her, the female of the species; +and through that the sensations from logs and stones and earth and fire +had strange power to call up the emotions handed down to her from the +ages. The thrill, the queer heartbeat, the vague, haunting memory of +something, as of a dim childhood adventure, the strange prickling sense +of dread--these abided with her and augmented while she tried to show +Glenn her pride in him and also how funny his cabin seemed to her. + +Once or twice he hesitatingly, and somewhat appealingly, she imagined, +tried to broach the subject of his work there in the West. But Carley +wanted a little while with him free of disagreeable argument. It was a +foregone conclusion that she would not like his work. Her intention +at first had been to begin at once to use all persuasion in her power +toward having him go back East with her, or at the latest some time +this year. But the rude log cabin had checked her impulse. She felt that +haste would be unwise. + +"Glenn Kilbourne, I told you why I came West to see you," she said, +spiritedly. "Well, since you still swear allegiance to your girl from +the East, you might entertain her a little bit before getting down to +business talk." + +"All right, Carley," he replied, laughing. "What do you want to do? The +day is at your disposal. I wish it were June. Then if you didn't fall in +love with West Fork you'd be no good." + +"Glenn, I love people, not places," she returned. + +"So I remember. And that's one thing I don't like. But let's not +quarrel. What'll we do?" + +"Suppose you tramp with me all around, until I'm good and hungry. Then +we'll come back here--and you can cook dinner for me." + +"Fine! Oh, I know you're just bursting with curiosity to see how I'll do +it. Well, you may be surprised, miss." + +"Let's go," she urged. + +"Shall I take my gun or fishing rod?" + +"You shall take nothing but me," retorted Carley. "What chance has a +girl with a man, if he can hunt or fish?" + +So they went out hand in hand. Half of the belt of sky above was +obscured by swiftly moving gray clouds. The other half was blue and was +being slowly encroached upon by the dark storm-like pall. How cold +the air! Carley had already learned that when the sun was hidden the +atmosphere was cold. Glenn led her down a trail to the brook, where +he calmly picked her up in his arms, quite easily, it appeared, and +leisurely packed her across, kissing her half a dozen times before he +deposited her on her feet. + +"Glenn, you do this sort of thing so well that it makes me imagine you +have practice now and then," she said. + +"No. But you are pretty and sweet, and like the girl you were four years +ago. That takes me back to those days." + +"I thank you. That's dear of you. I think I am something of a cat.... +I'll be glad if this walk leads us often to the creek." + +Spring might have been fresh and keen in the air, but it had not yet +brought much green to the brown earth or to the trees. The cotton-woods +showed a light feathery verdure. The long grass was a bleached white, +and low down close to the sod fresh tiny green blades showed. The great +fern leaves were sear and ragged, and they rustled in the breeze. Small +gray sheath-barked trees with clumpy foliage and snags of dead branches, +Glenn called cedars; and, grotesque as these were, Carley rather liked +them. They were approachable, not majestic and lofty like the pines, and +they smelled sweetly wild, and best of all they afforded some protection +from the bitter wind. Carley rested better than she walked. The huge +sections of red rock that had tumbled from above also interested Carley, +especially when the sun happened to come out for a few moments and +brought out their color. She enjoyed walking on the fallen pines, with +Glenn below, keeping pace with her and holding her hand. Carley looked +in vain for flowers and birds. The only living things she saw were +rainbow trout that Glenn pointed out to her in the beautiful clear +pools. The way the great gray bowlders trooped down to the brook as if +they were cattle going to drink; the dark caverns under the shelving +cliffs, where the water murmured with such hollow mockery; the low +spear-pointed gray plants, resembling century plants, and which Glenn +called mescal cactus, each with its single straight dead stalk standing +on high with fluted head; the narrow gorges, perpendicularly walled in +red, where the constricted brook plunged in amber and white cascades +over fall after fall, tumbling, rushing, singing its water melody--these +all held singular appeal for Carley as aspects of the wild land, +fascinating for the moment, symbolic of the lonely red man and his +forbears, and by their raw contrast making more necessary and desirable +and elevating the comforts and conventions of civilization. The cave man +theory interested Carley only as mythology. + +Lonelier, wilder, grander grew Glenn's canyon. Carley was finally forced +to shift her attention from the intimate objects of the canyon floor +to the aloof and unattainable heights. Singular to feel the difference! +That which she could see close at hand, touch if she willed, seemed to, +become part of her knowledge, could be observed and so possessed and +passed by. But the gold-red ramparts against the sky, the crannied +cliffs, the crags of the eagles, the lofty, distant blank walls, where +the winds of the gods had written their wars--these haunted because +they could never be possessed. Carley had often gazed at the Alps as at +celebrated pictures. She admired, she appreciated--then she forgot. +But the canyon heights did not affect her that way. They vaguely +dissatisfied, and as she could not be sure of what they dissatisfied, +she had to conclude that it was in herself. To see, to watch, to dream, +to seek, to strive, to endure, to find! Was that what they meant? They +might make her thoughtful of the vast earth, and its endless age, and +its staggering mystery. But what more! + +The storm that had threatened blackened the sky, and gray scudding +clouds buried the canyon rims, and long veils of rain and sleet began +to descend. The wind roared through the pines, drowning the roar of the +brook. Quite suddenly the air grew piercingly cold. Carley had forgotten +her gloves, and her pockets had not been constructed to protect hands. +Glenn drew her into a sheltered nook where a rock jutted out from +overhead and a thicket of young pines helped break the onslaught of the +wind. There Carley sat on a cold rock, huddled up close to Glenn, and +wearing to a state she knew would be misery. Glenn not only seemed +content; he was happy. "This is great," he said. His coat was open, his +hands uncovered, and he watched the storm and listened with manifest +delight. Carley hated to betray what a weakling she was, so she resigned +herself to her fate, and imagined she felt her fingers numbing into ice, +and her sensitive nose slowly and painfully freezing. + +The storm passed, however, before Carley sank into abject and open +wretchedness. She managed to keep pace with Glenn until exercise +warmed her blood. At every little ascent in the trail she found herself +laboring to get her breath. There was assuredly evidence of abundance +of air in this canyon, but somehow she could not get enough of it. Glenn +detected this and said it was owing to the altitude. When they reached +the cabin Carley was wet, stiff, cold, exhausted. How welcome the +shelter, the open fireplace! Seeing the cabin in new light, Carley had +the grace to acknowledge to herself that, after all, it was not so bad. + +"Now for a good fire and then dinner," announced Glenn, with the air of +one who knew his ground. + +"Can I help?" queried Carley. + +"Not today. I do not want you to spring any domestic science on me now." +Carley was not averse to withholding her ignorance. She watched Glenn +with surpassing curiosity and interest. First he threw a quantity of +wood upon the smoldering fire. + +"I have ham and mutton of my own raising," announced Glenn, with +importance. "Which would you prefer?" + +"Of your own raising. What do you mean?" queried Carley. + +"My dear, you've been so steeped in the fog of the crowd that you are +blind to the homely and necessary things of living. I mean I have here +meat of both sheep and hog that I raised myself. That is to say, mutton +and ham. Which do you like?" + +"Ham!" cried Carley, incredulously. + +Without more ado Glenn settled to brisk action, every move of which +Carley watched with keen eyes. The usurping of a woman's province by +a man was always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne--what more +would it be? He evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was +quick, decisive. One after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, +utensils on the table. Then he kicked at the roaring fire, settling some +of the sticks. He strode outside to return with a bucket of water, a +basin, towel, and soap. Then he took down two queer little iron pots +with heavy lids. To each pot was attached a wire handle. He removed the +lids, then set both the pots right on the fire or in it. Pouring water +into the basin, he proceeded to wash his hands. Next he took a large +pail, and from a sack he filled it half full of flour. To this he added +baking powder and salt. It was instructive for Carley to see him run +his skillful fingers all through that flour, as if searching for lumps. +After this he knelt before the fire and, lifting off one of the iron +pots with a forked stick, he proceeded to wipe out the inside of the pot +and grease it with a piece of fat. His next move was to rake out a pile +of the red coals, a feat he performed with the stick, and upon these he +placed the pot. Also he removed the other pot from the fire, leaving it, +however, quite close. + +"Well, all eyes?" he bantered, suddenly staring at her. "Didn't I say +I'd surprise you?" + +"Don't mind me. This is about the happiest and most bewildered +moment--of my life," replied Carley. + +Returning to the table, Glenn dug at something in a large red can. He +paused a moment to eye Carley. + +"Girl, do you know how to make biscuits?" he queried. + +"I might have known in my school days, but I've forgotten," she replied. + +"Can you make apple pie?" he demanded, imperiously. + +"No," rejoined Carley. + +"How do you expect to please your husband?" + +"Why--by marrying him, I suppose," answered Carley, as if weighing a +problem. + +"That has been the universal feminine point of view for a good many +years," replied Glenn, flourishing a flour-whitened hand. "But it never +served the women of the Revolution or the pioneers. And they were the +builders of the nation. It will never serve the wives of the future, if +we are to survive." + +"Glenn, you rave!" ejaculated Carley, not knowing whether to laugh or be +grave. "You were talking of humble housewifely things." + +"Precisely. The humble things that were the foundation of the great +nation of Americans. I meant work and children." + +Carley could only stare at him. The look he flashed at her, the sudden +intensity and passion of his ringing words, were as if he gave her a +glimpse into the very depths of him. He might have begun in fun, but he +had finished otherwise. She felt that she really did not know this +man. Had he arraigned her in judgment? A flush, seemingly hot and cold, +passed over her. Then it relieved her to see that he had returned to his +task. + +He mixed the shortening with the flour, and, adding water, he began +a thorough kneading. When the consistency of the mixture appeared to +satisfy him he took a handful of it, rolled it into a ball, patted and +flattened it into a biscuit, and dropped it into the oven he had set +aside on the hot coals. Swiftly he shaped eight or ten other biscuits +and dropped them as the first. Then he put the heavy iron lid on the +pot, and with a rude shovel, improvised from a flattened tin can, he +shoveled red coals out of the fire, and covered the lid with them. His +next move was to pare and slice potatoes, placing these aside in a pan. +A small black coffee-pot half full of water, was set on a glowing +part of the fire. Then he brought into use a huge, heavy knife, a +murderous-looking implement it appeared to Carley, with which he cut +slices of ham. These he dropped into the second pot, which he left +uncovered. Next he removed the flour sack and other inpedimenta from the +table, and proceeded to set places for two--blue-enamel plate and cup, +with plain, substantial-looking knives, forks, and spoons. He went +outside, to return presently carrying a small crock of butter. Evidently +he had kept the butter in or near the spring. It looked dewy and cold +and hard. After that he peeped under the lid of the pot which contained +the biscuits. The other pot was sizzling and smoking, giving forth +a delicious savory odor that affected Carley most agreeably. The +coffee-pot had begun to steam. With a long fork Glenn turned the slices +of ham and stood a moment watching them. Next he placed cans of three +sizes upon the table; and these Carley conjectured contained sugar, +salt, and pepper. Carley might not have been present, for all the +attention he paid to her. Again he peeped at the biscuits. At the +edge of the hot embers he placed a tin plate, upon which he carefully +deposited the slices of ham. Carley had not needed sight of them to know +she was hungry; they made her simply ravenous. That done, he poured the +pan of sliced potatoes into the pot. Carley judged the heat of that +pot to be extreme. Next he removed the lid from the other pot, exposing +biscuits slightly browned; and evidently satisfied with these, he +removed them from the coals. He stirred the slices of potatoes round +and round; he emptied two heaping tablespoonfuls of coffee into the +coffee-pot. + +"Carley," he said, at last turning to her with a warm smile, "out here +in the West the cook usually yells, 'Come and get it.' Draw up your +stool." + +And presently Carley found herself seated across the crude table from +Glenn, with the background of chinked logs in her sight, and the smart +of wood smoke in her eyes. In years past she had sat with him in the +soft, subdued, gold-green shadows of the Astor, or in the sumptuous +atmosphere of the St. Regis. But this event was so different, so +striking, that she felt it would have limitless significance. For one +thing, the look of Glenn! When had he ever seemed like this, wonderfully +happy to have her there, consciously proud of this dinner he had +prepared in half an hour, strangely studying her as one on trial? This +might have had its effect upon Carley's reaction to the situation, +making it sweet, trenchant with meaning, but she was hungry enough and +the dinner was good enough to make this hour memorable on that score +alone. She ate until she was actually ashamed of herself. She laughed +heartily, she talked, she made love to Glenn. Then suddenly an idea +flashed into her quick mind. + +"Glenn, did this girl Flo teach you to cook?" she queried, sharply. + +"No. I always was handy in camp. Then out here I had the luck to fall +in with an old fellow who was a wonderful cook. He lived with me for a +while. ... Why, what difference would it have made--had Flo taught me?" + +Carley felt the heat of blood in her face. "I don't know that it would +have made a difference. Only--I'm glad she didn't teach you. I'd rather +no girl could teach you what I couldn't." + +"You think I'm a pretty good cook, then?" he asked. + +"I've enjoyed this dinner more than any I've ever eaten." + +"Thanks, Carley. That'll help a lot," he said, gayly, but his eyes shone +with earnest, glad light. "I hoped I'd surprise you. I've found out here +that I want to do things well. The West stirs something in a man. It +must be an unwritten law. You stand or fall by your own hands. Back East +you know meals are just occasions--to hurry through--to dress for--to +meet somebody--to eat because you have to eat. But out here they are +different. I don't know how. In the city, producers, merchants, waiters +serve you for money. The meal is a transaction. It has no significance. +It is money that keeps you from starvation. But in the West money +doesn't mean much. You must work to live." + +Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and +admiringly. "Old fellow, you're a wonder. I can't tell you how proud I +am of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your way to +health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid achievement. +It amazes me. I don't grasp it. I want to think. Nevertheless I--" + +"What?" he queried, as she hesitated. + +"Oh, never mind now," she replied, hastily, averting her eyes. + + +The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge--and in spite of +the discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her +face as she struggled up the trail--it was a day never to be forgotten. +Nothing had been wanting in Glenn's attention or affection. He had been +comrade, lover, all she craved for. And but for his few singular words +about work and children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day +in his canyon and his cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? Something +vague and perplexing knocked at the gate of her consciousness. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion that +pleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a propitious +time to climb up on the desert to look after his sheep interests. Glenn, +of course, would accompany him. + +"Carley and I will go too," asserted Flo. + +"Reckon that'll be good," said Hutter, with approving nod. + +His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see the +beautiful desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious. + +"Carley, it'll be rather hard," he said. "You're soft, and riding and +lying out will stove you up. You ought to break in gradually." + +"I rode ten miles today," rejoined Carley. "And didn't mind it--much." +This was a little deviation from stern veracity. + +"Shore Carley's well and strong," protested Flo. "She'll get sore, but +that won't kill her." + +Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. "I might drive Carley +round about in the car," he said. + +"But you can't drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. We'd +have to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It's horseback if +you go at all." + +"Shore we'll go horseback," spoke up Flo. "Carley has got it all over +that Spencer girl who was here last summer." + +"I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what the +ride to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer," rejoined Glenn. + +"What?" inquired Carley. + +"Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed two +days. She didn't show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she never +got on another horse." + +"Oh, is that all, Glenn?" returned Carley, in feigned surprise. "Why, +I imagined from your tone that Miss Spencer's ride must have occasioned +her discomfort.... See here, Glenn. I may be a tenderfoot, but I'm no +mollycoddle." + +"My dear, I surrender," replied Glenn, with a laugh. "Really, I'm +delighted. But if anything happens--don't you blame me. I'm quite sure +that a long horseback ride, in spring, on the desert, will show you a +good many things about yourself." + +That was how Carley came to find herself, the afternoon of the next day, +astride a self-willed and unmanageable little mustang, riding in the +rear of her friends, on the way through a cedar forest toward a place +called Deep Lake. + +Carley had not been able yet, during the several hours of their journey, +to take any pleasure in the scenery or in her mount. For in the first +place there was nothing to see but scrubby little gnarled cedars and +drab-looking rocks; and in the second this Indian pony she rode had +discovered she was not an adept horsewoman and had proceeded to take +advantage of the fact. It did not help Carley's predicament to remember +that Glenn had decidedly advised her against riding this particular +mustang. To be sure, Flo had approved of Carley's choice, and Mr. +Hutter, with a hearty laugh, had fallen in line: "Shore. Let her ride +one of the broncs, if she wants." So this animal she bestrode must +have been a bronc, for it did not take him long to elicit from Carley a +muttered, "I don't know what bronc means, but it sounds like this pony +acts." + +Carley had inquired the animal's name from the young herder who had +saddled him for her. + +"Wal, I reckon he ain't got much of a name," replied the lad, with +a grin, as he scratched his head. "For us boys always called him +Spillbeans." + +"Humph! What a beautiful cognomen!" ejaculated Carley, "But according to +Shakespeare any name will serve. I'll ride him or--or--" + +So far there had not really been any necessity for the completion of +that sentence. But five miles of riding up into the cedar forest had +convinced Carley that she might not have much farther to go. Spillbeans +had ambled along well enough until he reached level ground where a long +bleached grass waved in the wind. Here he manifested hunger, then a +contrary nature, next insubordination, and finally direct hostility. +Carley had urged, pulled, and commanded in vain. Then when she gave +Spillbeans a kick in the flank he jumped stiff legged, propelling her up +out of the saddle, and while she was descending he made the queer jump +again, coming up to meet her. The jolt she got seemed to dislocate every +bone in her body. Likewise it hurt. Moreover, along with her idea of +what a spectacle she must have presented, it quickly decided Carley that +Spillbeans was a horse that was not to be opposed. Whenever he wanted a +mouthful of grass he stopped to get it. Therefore Carley was always +in the rear, a fact which in itself did not displease her. Despite +his contrariness, however, Spillbeans had apparently no intention of +allowing the other horses to get completely out of sight. + +Several times Flo waited for Carley to catch up. "He's loafing on you, +Carley. You ought to have on a spur. Break off a switch and beat him +some." Then she whipped the mustang across the flank with her bridle +rein, which punishment caused Spillbeans meekly to trot on with +alacrity. Carley had a positive belief that he would not do it for her. +And after Flo's repeated efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn, +had kept Spillbeans in a trot for a couple of miles Carley began to +discover that the trotting of a horse was the most uncomfortable motion +possible to imagine. It grew worse. It became painful. It gradually got +unendurable. But pride made Carley endure it until suddenly she thought +she had been stabbed in the side. This strange piercing pain must +be what Glenn had called a "stitch" in the side, something common to +novices on horseback. Carley could have screamed. She pulled the mustang +to a walk and sagged in her saddle until the pain subsided. What a +blessed relief! Carley had keen sense of the difference between riding +in Central Park and in Arizona. She regretted her choice of horses. +Spillbeans was attractive to look at, but the pleasure of riding him +was a delusion. Flo had said his gait resembled the motion of a rocking +chair. This Western girl, according to Charley, the sheep herder, was +not above playing Arizona jokes. Be that as it might, Spillbeans now +manifested a desire to remain with the other horses, and he broke out of +a walk into a trot. Carley could not keep him from trotting. Hence her +state soon wore into acute distress. + +Her left ankle seemed broken. The stirrup was heavy, and as soon as she +was tired she could no longer keep its weight from drawing her foot in. +The inside of her right knee was as sore as a boil. Besides, she had +other pains, just as severe, and she stood momentarily in mortal dread +of that terrible stitch in her side. If it returned she knew she would +fall off. But, fortunately, just when she was growing weak and dizzy, +the horses ahead slowed to a walk on a descent. The road wound down into +a wide deep canyon. Carley had a respite from her severest pains. Never +before had she known what it meant to be so grateful for relief from +anything. + +The afternoon grew far advanced and the sunset was hazily shrouded in +gray. Hutter did not like the looks of those clouds. "Reckon we're in +for weather," he said. Carley did not care what happened. Weather or +anything else that might make it possible to get off her horse! Glenn +rode beside her, inquiring solicitously as to her pleasure. "Ride of +my life!" she lied heroically. And it helped some to see that she both +fooled and pleased him. + +Beyond the canyon the cedared desert heaved higher and changed its +aspect. The trees grew larger, bushier, greener, and closer together, +with patches of bleached grass between, and russet-lichened rocks +everywhere. Small cactus plants bristled sparsely in open places; +and here and there bright red flowers--Indian paintbrush, Flo called +them--added a touch of color to the gray. Glenn pointed to where dark +banks of cloud had massed around the mountain peaks. The scene to the +west was somber and compelling. + +At last the men and the pack-horses ahead came to a halt in a level +green forestland with no high trees. Far ahead a chain of soft gray +round hills led up to the dark heaved mass of mountains. Carley saw the +gleam of water through the trees. Probably her mustang saw or scented +it, because he started to trot. Carley had reached a limit of strength, +endurance, and patience. She hauled him up short. When Spillbeans +evinced a stubborn intention to go on Carley gave him a kick. Then it +happened. + +She felt the reins jerked out of her hands and the saddle propel her +upward. When she descended it was to meet that before-experienced jolt. + +"Look!" cried Flo. "That bronc is going to pitch." + +"Hold on, Carley!" yelled Glenn. + +Desperately Carley essayed to do just that. But Spillbeans jolted her +out of the saddle. She came down on his rump and began to slide back and +down. Frightened and furious, Carley tried to hang to the saddle with +her hands and to squeeze the mustang with her knees. But another jolt +broke her hold, and then, helpless and bewildered, with her heart in +her throat and a terrible sensation of weakness, she slid back at each +upheave of the muscular rump until she slid off and to the ground in a +heap. Whereupon Spillbeans trotted off toward the water. + +Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her. Manifestly they were +concerned about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter. Carley +knew she was not hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, on +the moment, she could almost have laughed herself. + +"That beast is well named," she said. "He spilled me, all right. And I +presume I resembled a sack of beans." + +"Carley--you're--not hurt?" asked Glenn, choking, as he helped her up. + +"Not physically. But my feelings are." + +Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by a +loud guffaw from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrain +whatever she felt. To Carley she looked queer. + +"Pitch! You called it that," said Carley. + +"Oh, he didn't really pitch. He just humped up a few times," replied +Flo, and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burst +into a merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning, +and some of the other men turned away with shaking shoulders. + +"Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!" ejaculated Carley. "It must +have been funny. I hope I can be a good sport.... But I bet you I ride +him tomorrow." + +"Shore you will," replied Flo. + +Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carley +felt a warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling of +humiliation. They expected such things from her, and she should expect +them, too, and take them, if not fearlessly or painlessly, at least +without resentment. + +Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doing +so she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At second +glance the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to define. +She could see far, and the view north toward those strange gray-colored +symmetrical hills was one that fascinated while it repelled her. Near at +hand the ground sloped down to a large rock-bound lake, perhaps a mile +in circumference. In the distance, along the shore she saw a white +conical tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects she took for +sheep. + +The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet +together, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appeared +to be briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the foot +of a thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed +for her and Flo. All that Carley could see that could be used for such +purpose was a canvas-covered roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope from +round this, unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar. Then he spread +down the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thickness +of blankets. From under the top of these he pulled out two flat little +pillows. These he placed in position, and turned back some of the +blankets. + +"Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over +them," directed Glenn. "If it rains pull the tarp up over your head--and +let it rain." + +This direction sounded in Glenn's cheery voice a good deal more +pleasurable than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar tree +could not keep off rain or snow. + +"Glenn, how about--about animals--and crawling things, you know?" +queried Carley. + +"Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes a +scorpion. But these don't crawl around much at night. The only thing to +worry about are the hydrophobia skunks." + +"What on earth are they?" asked Carley, quite aghast. + +"Skunks are polecats, you know," replied Glenn, cheerfully. "Sometimes +one gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then he's a dangerous +customer. He has no fear and he may run across you and bite you in the +face. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have been bitten +since I've been here. One of them died, and the other had to go to the +Pasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia." + +"Good heavens!" cried Carley, horrified. + +"You needn't be afraid," said Glenn. "I'll tie one of the dogs near your +bed." + +Carley wondered whether Glenn's casual, easy tone had been adopted for +her benefit or was merely an assimilation from this Western life. Not +improbably Glenn himself might be capable of playing a trick on her. +Carley endeavored to fortify herself against disaster, so that when it +befell she might not be wholly ludicrous. + +With the coming of twilight a cold, keen wind moaned through the cedars. +Carley would have hovered close to the fire even if she had not been +too tired to exert herself. Despite her aches, she did justice to +the supper. It amazed her that appetite consumed her to the extent of +overcoming a distaste for this strong, coarse cooking. Before the meal +ended darkness had fallen, a windy raw darkness that enveloped heavily +like a blanket. Presently Carley edged closer to the fire, and there +she stayed, alternately turning back and front to the welcome heat. She +seemingly roasted hands, face, and knees while her back froze. The wind +blew the smoke in all directions. When she groped around with blurred, +smarting eyes to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The other +members of the party sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without much +notice of the smoke that so exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insisted +that she take a seat he had fixed for her, but she preferred to stand +and move around a little. + +By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and all +gathered near the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutter +engaged in interested conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheep +herders. If the wind and cold had not made Carley so uncomfortable she +might have found the scene picturesque. How black the night! She could +scarcely distinguish the sky at all. The cedar branches swished in +the wind, and from the gloom came a low sound of waves lapping a rocky +shore. Presently Glenn held up a hand. + +"Listen, Carley!" he said. + +Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehow +infinitely lonely. They made her shudder. + +"Coyotes," said Glenn. "You'll come to love that chorus. Hear the dogs +bark back." + +Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that she +would ever become enamoured of such wild cries. + +"Do coyotes come near camp?" she queried. + +"Shore. Sometimes they pull your pillow out from under your head," +replied Flo, laconically. + +Carley did not ask any more questions. Natural history was not her +favorite study and she was sure she could dispense with any first-hand +knowledge of desert beasts. She thought, however, she heard one of +the men say, "Big varmint prowlin' round the sheep." To which Hutter +replied, "Reckon it was a bear." And Glenn said, "I saw his fresh track +by the lake. Some bear!" + +The heat from the fire made Carley so drowsy that she could scarcely +hold up her head. She longed for bed even if it was out there in the +open. Presently Flo called her: "Come. Let's walk a little before +turning in." + +So Carley permitted herself to be led to and fro down an open aisle +between some cedars. The far end of that aisle, dark, gloomy, with the +bushy secretive cedars all around, caused Carley apprehension she was +ashamed to admit. Flo talked eloquently about the joys of camp life, and +how the harder any outdoor task was and the more endurance and pain it +required, the more pride and pleasure one had in remembering it. Carley +was weighing the import of these words when suddenly Flo clutched her +arm. "What's that?" she whispered, tensely. + +Carley stood stockstill. They had reached the furthermost end of that +aisle, but had turned to go back. The flare of the camp fire threw a wan +light into the shadows before them. There came a rustling in the brush, +a snapping of twigs. Cold tremors chased up and down Carley's back. + +"Shore it's a varmint, all right. Let's hurry," whispered Flo. + +Carley needed no urging. It appeared that Flo was not going to run. She +walked fast, peering back over her shoulder, and, hanging to Carley's +arm, she rounded a large cedar that had obstructed some of the +firelight. The gloom was not so thick here. And on the instant Carley +espied a low, moving object, somehow furry, and gray in color. She +gasped. She could not speak. Her heart gave a mighty throb and seemed to +stop. + +"What--do you see?" cried Flo, sharply, peering ahead. "Oh!... Come, +Carley. Run!" + +Flo's cry showed she must nearly be strangled with terror. But Carley +was frozen in her tracks. Her eyes were riveted upon the gray furry +object. It stopped. Then it came faster. It magnified. It was a huge +beast. Carley had no control over mind, heart, voice, or muscle. Her +legs gave way. She was sinking. A terrible panic, icy, sickening, +rending, possessed her whole body. + +The huge gray thing came at her. Into the rushing of her ears broke +thudding sounds. The thing leaped up. A horrible petrifaction suddenly +made stone of Carley. Then she saw a gray mantlelike object cast aside +to disclose the dark form of a man. Glenn! + +"Carley, dog-gone it! You don't scare worth a cent," he laughingly +complained. + +She collapsed into his arms. The liberating shock was as great as had +been her terror. She began to tremble violently. Her hands got back a +sense of strength to clutch. Heart and blood seemed released from that +ice-banded vise. + +"Say, I believe you were scared," went on Glenn, bending over her. + +"Scar-ed!" she gasped. "Oh--there's no word--to tell--what I was!" + +Flo came running back, giggling with joy. "Glenn, she shore took you for +a bear. Why, I felt her go stiff as a post!... Ha! Ha! Ha! Carley, now +how do you like the wild and woolly?" + +"Oh! You put up a trick on me!" ejaculated Carley. "Glenn, how could +you? ... Such a terrible trick! I wouldn't have minded something +reasonable. But that! Oh, I'll never forgive you!" + +Glenn showed remorse, and kissed her before Flo in a way that made some +little amends. "Maybe I overdid it," he said. "But I thought you'd have +a momentary start, you know, enough to make you yell, and then you'd +see through it. I only had a sheepskin over my shoulders as I crawled on +hands and knees." + +"Glenn, for me you were a prehistoric monster--a dinosaur, or +something," replied Carley. + +It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybody +had been in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it. + +"Reckon that makes you one of us," said Hutter, genially. "We've all had +our scares." + +Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickery +alienated her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to show +her cowardice. But then she realized that no one had really seen any +evidence of her state. It was fun to them. + +Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call for +bed. Following Flo's instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled off +her boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under the +blankets. How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most delicious +sense of relief and rest she had ever experienced. She straightened out +on her back with a feeling that she had never before appreciated the +luxury of lying down. + +Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: "Now don't +cover your head. If it rains I'll wake and pull up the tarp. Good night, +Carley." And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep. + +For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches; +the aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blackness +of night, the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotected +helplessness she felt in this novel bed, were too entirely new and +disturbing to be overcome at once. So she lay wide eyed, staring at the +dense gray shadow, at the flickering lights upon the cedar. At length +her mind formed a conclusion that this sort of thing might be worth the +hardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession to Glenn's West! +In the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess that if her +vanity had not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have enjoyed +herself more. It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills and +pleasures and exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and an +uneasy half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or a +profitable time when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would not +be averse to getting Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere wholly +strange and difficult, and see how she met situation after situation +unfamiliar to her. And so Carley's mind drifted on until at last she +succumbed to drowsiness. + + +A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Something +sharp, cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them. +Glenn stood over her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face. + +"Carley, the day is far spent," he said, gayly. "We want to roll up your +bedding. Will you get out of it?" + +"Hello, Glenn! What time is it?" she replied. + +"It's nearly six." + +"What!... Do you expect me to get up at that ungodly hour?" + +"We're all up. Flo's eating breakfast. It's going to be a bad day, I'm +afraid. And we want to get packed and moving before it starts to rain." + +"Why do girls leave home?" she asked, tragically. + +"To make poor devils happy, of course," he replied, smiling down upon +her. + +That smile made up to Carley for all the clamoring sensations of stiff, +sore muscles. It made her ashamed that she could not fling herself into +this adventure with all her heart. Carley essayed to sit up. "Oh, I'm +afraid my anatomy has become disconnected!... Glenn, do I look a sight?" +She never would have asked him that if she had not known she could bear +inspection at such an inopportune moment. + +"You look great," he asserted, heartily. "You've got color. And as for +your hair--I like to see it mussed that way. You were always one to have +it dressed--just so.... Come, Carley, rustle now." + +Thus adjured, Carley did her best under adverse circumstances. And she +was gritting her teeth and complimenting herself when she arrived at the +task of pulling on her boots. They were damp and her feet appeared +to have swollen. Moreover, her ankles were sore. But she accomplished +getting into them at the expense of much pain and sundry utterances +more forcible than elegant. Glenn brought her warm water, a mitigating +circumstance. The morning was cold and thought of that biting desert +water had been trying. + +"Shore you're doing fine," was Flo's greeting. "Come and get it before +we throw it out." + +Carley made haste to comply with the Western mandate, and was once again +confronted with the singular fact that appetite did not wait upon the +troubles of a tenderfoot. Glenn remarked that at least she would not +starve to death on the trip. + +"Come, climb the ridge with me," he invited. "I want you to take a look +to the north and east." + +He led her off through the cedars, up a slow red-earth slope, away from +the lake. A green moundlike eminence topped with flat red rock appeared +near at hand and not at all a hard climb. Nevertheless, her eyes +deceived her, as she found to the cost of her breath. It was both far +away and high. + +"I like this location," said Glenn. "If I had the money I'd buy this +section of land--six hundred and forty acres--and make a ranch of it. +Just under this bluff is a fine open flat bench for a cabin. You could +see away across the desert clear to Sunset Peak. There's a good spring +of granite water. I'd run water from the lake down into the lower flats, +and I'd sure raise some stock." + +"What do you call this place?" asked Carley, curiously. + +"Deep Lake. It's only a watering place for sheep and cattle. But there's +fine grazing, and it's a wonder to me no one has ever settled here." + +Looking down, Carley appreciated his wish to own the place; and +immediately there followed in her a desire to get possession of this +tract of land before anyone else discovered its advantages, and to +hold it for Glenn. But this would surely conflict with her intention +of persuading Glenn to go back East. As quickly as her impulse had been +born it died. + +Suddenly the scene gripped Carley. She looked from near to far, trying +to grasp the illusive something. Wild lonely Arizona land! She saw +ragged dumpy cedars of gray and green, lines of red earth, and a round +space of water, gleaming pale under the lowering clouds; and in the +distance isolated hills, strangely curved, wandering away to a black +uplift of earth obscured in the sky. + +These appeared to be mere steps leading her sight farther and higher to +the cloud-navigated sky, where rosy and golden effulgence betokened the +sun and the east. Carley held her breath. A transformation was going on +before her eyes. + +"Carley, it's a stormy sunrise," said Glenn. + +His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this sudden-bursting +glory only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She could see the clouds +moving while they were being colored. The universal gray surrendered +under some magic paint brush. The rifts widened, and the gloom of the +pale-gray world seemed to vanish. Beyond the billowy, rolling, creamy +edges of clouds, white and pink, shone the soft exquisite fresh blue +sky. And a blaze of fire, a burst of molten gold, sheered up from behind +the rim of cloud and suddenly poured a sea of sunlight from east to +west. It transfigured the round foothills. They seemed bathed in +ethereal light, and the silver mists that overhung them faded while +Carley gazed, and a rosy flush crowned the symmetrical domes. Southward +along the horizon line, down-dropping veils of rain, just touched with +the sunrise tint, streamed in drifting slow movement from cloud to +earth. To the north the range of foothills lifted toward the majestic +dome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic upheaval of red and purple cinders, bare +as rock, round as the lower hills, and wonderful in its color. Full in +the blaze of the rising sun it flaunted an unchangeable front. Carley +understood now what had been told her about this peak. Volcanic fires +had thrown up a colossal mound of cinders burned forever to the hues +of the setting sun. In every light and shade of day it held true to its +name. Farther north rose the bold bulk of the San Francisco Peaks, +that, half lost in the clouds, still dominated the desert scene. Then as +Carley gazed the rifts began to close. Another transformation began, the +reverse of what she watched. The golden radiance of sunrise vanished, +and under a gray, lowering, coalescing pall of cloud the round hills +returned to their bleak somberness, and the green desert took again its +cold sheen. + +"Wasn't it fine, Carley?" asked Glenn. "But nothing to what you will +experience. I hope you stay till the weather gets warm. I want you to +see a summer dawn on the Painted Desert, and a noon with the great white +clouds rolling up from the horizon, and a sunset of massed purple and +gold. If they do not get you then I'll give up." + +Carley murmured something of her appreciation of what she had just seen. +Part of his remark hung on her ear, thought-provoking and disturbing. He +hoped she would stay until summer! That was kind of him. But her visit +must be short and she now intended it to end with his return East with +her. If she did not persuade him to go he might not want to go for a +while, as he had written--"just yet." Carley grew troubled in mind. Such +mental disturbance, however, lasted no longer than her return with Glenn +to camp, where the mustang Spillbeans stood ready for her to mount. He +appeared to put one ear up, the other down, and to look at her with mild +surprise, as if to say: "What--hello--tenderfoot! Are you going to ride +me again?" + +Carley recalled that she had avowed she would ride him. There was no +alternative, and her misgivings only made matters worse. Nevertheless, +once in the saddle, she imagined she had the hallucination that to +ride off so, with the long open miles ahead, was really thrilling. This +remarkable state of mind lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, and +then another day of misery beckoned to Carley with gray stretches of +distance. + +She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up the +hours. She saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; she +saw the ground clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hoping +for sandy places or rocky places where her mustang could not trot. + +At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which turned +out to be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so busy that +he had no time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at home on +a horse than on the ground, rode around everywhere with the men. Most +assuredly Carley could not pass by the chance to get off Spillbeans and +to walk a little. She found, however, that what she wanted most was to +rest. The cabin was deserted, a dark, damp place with a rank odor. She +did not stay long inside. + +Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be a +disagreeable prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered by +a cup of hot soup and some bread and butter which the herder Charley +brought her. By and by Glenn and Hutter returned with Flo, and all +partook of some lunch. + +All too soon Carley found herself astride the mustang again. Glenn +helped her don the slicker, an abominable sticky rubber coat that +bundled her up and tangled her feet round the stirrups. She was glad to +find, though, that it served well indeed to protect her from raw wind +and rain. + +"Where do we go from here?" Carley inquired, ironically. + +Glenn laughed in a way which proved to Carley that he knew perfectly +well how she felt. Again his smile caused her self-reproach. Plain +indeed was it that he had really expected more of her in the way of +complaint and less of fortitude. Carley bit her lips. + +Thus began the afternoon ride. As it advanced the sky grew more +threatening, the wind rawer, the cold keener, and the rain cut like +little bits of sharp ice. It blew in Carley's face. Enough snow fell to +whiten the open patches of ground. In an hour Carley realized that +she had the hardest task of her life to ride to the end of the day's +journey. No one could have guessed her plight. Glenn complimented her +upon her adaptation to such unpleasant conditions. Flo evidently was on +the lookout for the tenderfoot's troubles. But as Spillbeans, had taken +to lagging at a walk, Carley was enabled to conceal all outward sign of +her woes. It rained, hailed, sleeted, snowed, and grew colder all the +time. Carley's feet became lumps of ice. Every step the mustang took +sent acute pains ramifying from bruised and raw places all over her +body. + +Once, finding herself behind the others and out of sight in the cedars, +she got off to walk awhile, leading the mustang. This would not do, +however, because she fell too far in the rear. Mounting again, she rode +on, beginning to feel that nothing mattered, that this trip would be the +end of Carley Burch. How she hated that dreary, cold, flat land the road +bisected without end. It felt as if she rode hours to cover a mile. In +open stretches she saw the whole party straggling along, separated from +one another, and each for himself. They certainly could not be enjoying +themselves. Carley shut her eyes, clutched the pommel of the saddle, +trying to support her weight. How could she endure another mile? Alas! +there might be many miles. Suddenly a terrible shock seemed to rack +her. But it was only that Spillbeans had once again taken to a trot. +Frantically she pulled on the bridle. He was not to be thwarted. Opening +her eyes, she saw a cabin far ahead which probably was the destination +for the night. Carley knew she would never reach it, yet she clung on +desperately. What she dreaded was the return of that stablike pain in +her side. It came, and life seemed something abject and monstrous. She +rode stiff legged, with her hands propping her stiffly above the pommel, +but the stabbing pain went right on, and in deeper. When the mustang +halted his trot beside the other horses Carley was in the last +extremity. Yet as Glenn came to her, offering a hand, she still hid her +agony. Then Flo called out gayly: "Carley, you've done twenty-five miles +on as rotten a day as I remember. Shore we all hand it to you. And I'm +confessing I didn't think you'd ever stay the ride out. Spillbeans is +the meanest nag we've got and he has the hardest gait." + + + +CHAPTER V + +Later Carley leaned back in a comfortable seat, before a blazing fire +that happily sent its acrid smoke up the chimney, pondering ideas in her +mind. + +There could be a relation to familiar things that was astounding in its +revelation. To get off a horse that had tortured her, to discover an +almost insatiable appetite, to rest weary, aching body before the genial +warmth of a beautiful fire--these were experiences which Carley found +to have been hitherto unknown delights. It struck her suddenly and +strangely that to know the real truth about anything in life might +require infinite experience and understanding. How could one feel +immense gratitude and relief, or the delight of satisfying acute hunger, +or the sweet comfort of rest, unless there had been circumstances of +extreme contrast? She had been compelled to suffer cruelly on horseback +in order to make her appreciate how good it was to get down on the +ground. Otherwise she never would have known. She wondered, then, how +true that principle might be in all experience. It gave strong food for +thought. There were things in the world never before dreamed of in her +philosophy. + +Carley was wondering if she were narrow and dense to circumstances of +life differing from her own when a remark of Flo's gave pause to her +reflections. + +"Shore the worst is yet to come." Flo had drawled. + +Carley wondered if this distressing statement had to do in some way with +the rest of the trip. She stifled her curiosity. Painful knowledge of +that sort would come quickly enough. + +"Flo, are you girls going to sleep here in the cabin?" inquired Glenn. + +"Shore. It's cold and wet outside," replied Flo. + +"Well, Felix, the Mexican herder, told me some Navajos had been bunking +here." + +"Navajos? You mean Indians?" interposed Carley, with interest. + +"Shore do," said Flo. "I knew that. But don't mind Glenn. He's full of +tricks, Carley. He'd give us a hunch to lie out in the wet." + +Hutter burst into his hearty laugh. "Wal, I'd rather get some things +any day than a bad cold." + +"Shore I've had both," replied Flo, in her easy drawl, "and I'd prefer +the cold. But for Carley's sake--" + +"Pray don't consider me," said Carley. The rather crude drift of the +conversation affronted her. + +"Well, my dear," put in Glenn, "it's a bad night outside. We'll all make +our beds here." + +"Glenn, you shore are a nervy fellow," drawled Flo. + +Long after everybody was in bed Carley lay awake in the blackness of the +cabin, sensitively fidgeting and quivering over imaginative contact with +creeping things. The fire had died out. A cold air passed through the +room. On the roof pattered gusts of rain. Carley heard a rustling of +mice. It did not seem possible that she could keep awake, yet she strove +to do so. But her pangs of body, her extreme fatigue soon yielded to +the quiet and rest of her bed, engendering a drowsiness that proved +irresistible. + +Morning brought fair weather and sunshine, which helped to sustain +Carley in her effort to brave out her pains and woes. Another +disagreeable day would have forced her to humiliating defeat. +Fortunately for her, the business of the men was concerned with the +immediate neighborhood, in which they expected to stay all morning. + +"Flo, after a while persuade Carley to ride with you to the top of this +first foothill," said Glenn. "It's not far, and it's worth a good deal +to see the Painted Desert from there. The day is clear and the air free +from dust." + +"Shore. Leave it to me. I want to get out of camp, anyhow. That +conceited hombre, Lee Stanton, will be riding in here," answered Flo, +laconically. + +The slight knowing smile on Glenn's face and the grinning disbelief +on Mr. Hutter's were facts not lost upon Carley. And when Charley, the +herder, deliberately winked at Carley, she conceived the idea that Flo, +like many women, only ran off to be pursued. In some manner Carley did +not seek to analyze, the purported advent of this Lee Stanton pleased +her. But she did admit to her consciousness that women, herself +included, were both as deep and mysterious as the sea, yet as +transparent as an inch of crystal water. + +It happened that the expected newcomer rode into camp before anyone +left. Before he dismounted he made a good impression on Carley, and +as he stepped down in lazy, graceful action, a tall lithe figure, she +thought him singularly handsome. He wore black sombrero, flannel shirt, +blue jeans stuffed into high boots, and long, big-roweled spurs. + +"How are you-all?" was his greeting. + +From the talk that ensued between him and the men, Carley concluded +that he must be overseer of the sheep hands. Carley knew that Hutter +and Glenn were not interested in cattle raising. And in fact they were, +especially Hutter, somewhat inimical to the dominance of the range land +by cattle barons of Flagstaff. + +"When's Ryan goin' to dip?" asked Hutter. + +"Today or tomorrow," replied Stanton. + +"Reckon we ought to ride over," went on Hutter. "Say, Glenn, do you +reckon Miss Carley could stand a sheep-dip?" + +This was spoken in a low tone, scarcely intended for Carley, but she had +keen ears and heard distinctly. Not improbably this sheep-dip was what +Flo meant as the worst to come. Carley adopted a listless posture to +hide her keen desire to hear what Glenn would reply to Hutter. + +"I should say not!" whispered Glenn, fiercely. + +"Cut out that talk. She'll hear you and want to go." + +Whereupon Carley felt mount in her breast an intense and rebellious +determination to see a sheep-dip. She would astonish Glenn. What did +he want, anyway? Had she not withstood the torturing trot of the +hardest-gaited horse on the range? Carley realized she was going to +place considerable store upon that feat. It grew on her. + +When the consultation of the men ended, Lee Stanton turned to Flo. And +Carley did not need to see the young man look twice to divine what ailed +him. He was caught in the toils of love. But seeing through Flo Hutter +was entirely another matter. + +"Howdy, Lee!" she said, coolly, with her clear eyes on him. A tiny frown +knitted her brow. She did not, at the moment, entirely approve of him. + +"Shore am glad to see you, Flo," he said, with rather a heavy expulsion +of breath. He wore a cheerful grin that in no wise deceived Flo, or +Carley either. The young man had a furtive expression of eye. + +"Ahuh!" returned Flo. + +"I was shore sorry about--about that--" he floundered, in low voice. + +"About what?" + +"Aw, you know, Flo." + +Carley strolled out of hearing, sure of two things--that she felt rather +sorry for Stanton, and that his course of love did not augur well for +smooth running. What queer creatures were women! Carley had seen several +million coquettes, she believed; and assuredly Flo Hutter belonged to +the species. + +Upon Carley's return to the cabin she found Stanton and Flo waiting for +her to accompany them on a ride up the foothill. She was so stiff and +sore that she could hardly mount into the saddle; and the first mile +of riding was something like a nightmare. She lagged behind Flo and +Stanton, who apparently forgot her in their quarrel. + +The riders soon struck the base of a long incline of rocky ground that +led up to the slope of the foothill. Here rocks and gravel gave place +to black cinders out of which grew a scant bleached grass. This desert +verdure was what lent the soft gray shade to the foothill when seen from +a distance. The slope was gentle, so that the ascent did not entail any +hardship. Carley was amazed at the length of the slope, and also to +see how high over the desert she was getting. She felt lifted out of a +monotonous level. A green-gray league-long cedar forest extended down +toward Oak Creek. Behind her the magnificent bulk of the mountains +reached up into the stormy clouds, showing white slopes of snow under +the gray pall. + +The hoofs of the horses sank in the cinders. A fine choking dust +assailed Carley's nostrils. Presently, when there appeared at least a +third of the ascent still to be accomplished and Flo dismounted to walk, +leading their horses. Carley had no choice but to do likewise. At first +walking was a relief. Soon, however, the soft yielding cinders began to +drag at her feet. At every step she slipped back a few inches, a very +annoying feature of climbing. When her legs seemed to grow dead Carley +paused for a little rest. The last of the ascent, over a few hundred +yards of looser cinders, taxed her remaining strength to the limit. She +grew hot and wet and out of breath. Her heart labored. An unreasonable +antipathy seemed to attend her efforts. Only her ridiculous vanity held +her to this task. She wanted to please Glenn, but not so earnestly that +she would have kept on plodding up this ghastly bare mound of cinders. +Carley did not mind being a tenderfoot, but she hated the thought of +these Westerners considering her a weakling. So she bore the pain of +raw blisters and the miserable sensation of staggering on under a leaden +weight. + +Several times she noted that Flo and Stanton halted to face each other +in rather heated argument. At least Stanton's red face and forceful +gestures attested to heat on his part. Flo evidently was weary of +argument, and in answer to a sharp reproach she retorted, "Shore I +was different after he came." To which Stanton responded by a quick +passionate shrinking as if he had been stung. + +Carley had her own reaction to this speech she could not help hearing; +and inwardly, at least, her feeling must have been similar to Stanton's. +She forgot the object of this climb and looked off to her right at the +green level without really seeing it. A vague sadness weighed upon her +soul. Was there to be a tangle of fates here, a conflict of wills, a +crossing of loves? Flo's terse confession could not be taken lightly. +Did she mean that she loved Glenn? Carley began to fear it. Only another +reason why she must persuade Glenn to go back East! But the closer +Carley came to what she divined must be an ordeal the more she dreaded +it. This raw, crude West might have confronted her with a situation +beyond her control. And as she dragged her weighted feet through the +cinders, kicking, up little puffs of black dust, she felt what she +admitted to be an unreasonable resentment toward these Westerners and +their barren, isolated, and boundless world. + +"Carley," called Flo, "come--looksee, as the Indians say. Here is +Glenn's Painted Desert, and I reckon it's shore worth seeing." + +To Carley's surprise, she found herself upon the knob of the foothill. +And when she looked out across a suddenly distinguishable void she +seemed struck by the immensity of something she was unable to grasp. She +dropped her bridle; she gazed slowly, as if drawn, hearing Flo's voice. + +"That thin green line of cottonwoods down there is the Little Colorado +River," Flo was saying. "Reckon it's sixty miles, all down hill. The +Painted Desert begins there and also the Navajo Reservation. You see the +white strips, the red veins, the yellow bars, the black lines. They are +all desert steps leading up and up for miles. That sharp black peak +is called Wildcat. It's about a hundred miles. You see the desert +stretching away to the right, growing dim--lost in distance? We don't +know that country. But that north country we know as landmarks, anyway. +Look at that saw-tooth range. The Indians call it Echo Cliffs. At +the far end it drops off into the Colorado River. Lee's Ferry is +there--about one hundred and sixty miles. That ragged black rent is the +Grand Canyon. Looks like a thread, doesn't it? But Carley, it's some +hole, believe me. Away to the left you see the tremendous wall rising +and turning to come this way. That's the north wall of the Canyon. It +ends at the great bluff--Greenland Point. See the black fringe above the +bar of gold. That's a belt of pine trees. It's about eighty miles across +this ragged old stone washboard of a desert. ... Now turn and look +straight and strain your sight over Wildcat. See the rim purple dome. +You must look hard. I'm glad it's clear and the sun is shining. We don't +often get this view.... That purple dome is Navajo Mountain, two hundred +miles and more away!" + +Carley yielded to some strange drawing power and slowly walked forward +until she stood at the extreme edge of the summit. + +What was it that confounded her sight? Desert slope--down and +down--color--distance--space! The wind that blew in her face seemed +to have the openness of the whole world back of it. Cold, sweet, +dry, exhilarating, it breathed of untainted vastness. Carley's memory +pictures of the Adirondacks faded into pastorals; her vaunted images +of European scenery changed to operetta settings. She had nothing with +which to compare this illimitable space. + +"Oh!--America!" was her unconscious tribute. + +Stanton and Flo had come on to places beside her. The young man laughed. +"Wal, now Miss Carley, you couldn't say more. When I was in camp +trainin' for service overseas I used to remember how this looked. An' it +seemed one of the things I was goin' to fight for. Reckon I didn't the +idea of the Germans havin' my Painted Desert. I didn't get across to +fight for it, but I shore was willin'." + +"You see, Carley, this is our America," said Flo, softly. + +Carley had never understood the meaning of the word. The immensity of +the West seemed flung at her. What her vision beheld, so far-reaching +and boundless, was only a dot on the map. + +"Does any one live--out there?" she asked, with slow sweep of hand. + +"A few white traders and some Indian tribes," replied Stanton. "But you +can ride all day an' next day an' never see a livin' soul." + +What was the meaning of the gratification in his voice? Did Westerners +court loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look +at her companions. Stanton's eyes were narrowed; his expression had +changed; lean and hard and still, his face resembled bronze. The +careless humor was gone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with +Flo. The girl, too, had subtly changed, had responded to an influence +that had subdued and softened her. She was mute; her eyes held a light, +comprehensive and all-embracing; she was beautiful then. For Carley, +quick to read emotion, caught a glimpse of a strong, steadfast soul that +spiritualized the brown freckled face. + +Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incomprehensible abyss, +and on to the far up-flung heights, white and red and yellow, and so +on to the wonderful mystic haze of distance. The significance of Flo's +designation of miles could not be grasped by Carley. She could not +estimate distance. But she did not need that to realize her perceptions +were swallowed up by magnitude. Hitherto the power of her eyes had been +unknown. How splendid to see afar! She could see--yes--but what did she +see? Space first, annihilating space, dwarfing her preconceived images, +and then wondrous colors! What had she known of color? No wonder artists +failed adequately and truly to paint mountains, let alone the desert +space. The toiling millions of the crowded cities were ignorant of this +terrible beauty and sublimity. Would it have helped them to see? But +just to breathe that untainted air, just to see once the boundless open +of colored sand and rock--to realize what the freedom of eagles meant +would not that have helped anyone? + +And with the thought there came to Carley's quickened and struggling +mind a conception of freedom. She had not yet watched eagles, but she +now gazed out into their domain. What then must be the effect of such +environment on people whom it encompassed? The idea stunned Carley. +Would such people grow in proportion to the nature with which they +were in conflict? Hereditary influence could not be comparable to such +environment in the shaping of character. + +"Shore I could stand here all day," said Flo. "But it's beginning to +cloud over and this high wind is cold. So we'd better go, Carley." + +"I don't know what I am, but it's not cold," replied Carley. + +"Wal, Miss Carley, I reckon you'll have to come again an' again before +you get a comfortable feelin' here," said Stanton. + +It surprised Carley to see that this young Westerner had hit upon +the truth. He understood her. Indeed she was uncomfortable. She was +oppressed, vaguely unhappy. But why? The thing there--the infinitude of +open sand and rock--was beautiful, wonderful, even glorious. She looked +again. + +Steep black-cindered slope, with its soft gray patches of grass, sheered +down and down, and out in rolling slope to merge upon a cedar-dotted +level. Nothing moved below, but a red-tailed hawk sailed across her +vision. How still--how gray the desert floor as it reached away, losing +its black dots, and gaining bronze spots of stone! By plain and prairie +it fell away, each inch of gray in her sight magnifying into its +league-long roll. On and on, and down across dark lines that were +steppes, and at last blocked and changed by the meandering green thread +which was the verdure of a desert river. Beyond stretched the white +sand, where whirlwinds of dust sent aloft their funnel-shaped spouts; +and it led up to the horizon-wide ribs and ridges of red and walls of +yellow and mountains of black, to the dim mound of purple so ethereal +and mystic against the deep-blue cloud-curtained band of sky. + +And on the moment the sun was obscured and that world of colorful flame +went out, as if a blaze had died. + +Deprived of its fire, the desert seemed to retreat, to fade coldly and +gloomily, to lose its great landmarks in dim obscurity. Closer, around +to the north, the canyon country yawned with innumerable gray jaws, +ragged and hard, and the riven earth took on a different character. It +had no shadows. It grew flat and, like the sea, seemed to mirror +the vast gray cloud expanse. The sublime vanished, but the desolate +remained. No warmth--no movement--no life! Dead stone it was, cut into a +million ruts by ruthless ages. Carley felt that she was gazing down into +chaos. + +At this moment, as before, a hawk had crossed her vision, so now a raven +sailed by, black as coal, uttering a hoarse croak. + +"Quoth the raven--" murmured Carley, with a half-bitter laugh, as she +turned away shuddering in spite of an effort of self-control. "Maybe he +meant this wonderful and terrible West is never for such as I.... Come, +let us go." + +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. + +At this point the members of Hutter's party dismounted and tied their +horses to the top log of the fence. When Carley essayed to get off Glenn +tried to stop her, saying she could see well enough from there. But +Carley got down and followed Flo. She heard Hutter call to Glenn: "Say, +Ryan is short of men. We'll lend a hand for a couple of hours." + +Presently Carley reached Flo's side and the first corral that contained +sheep. They formed a compact woolly mass, rather white in color, with a +tinge of pink. When Flo climbed up on the fence the flock plunged as +one animal and with a trampling roar ran to the far side of the corral. +Several old rams with wide curling horns faced around; and some of +the ewes climbed up on the densely packed mass. Carley rather enjoyed +watching them. She surely could not see anything amiss in this sight. + +The next corral held a like number of sheep, and also several Mexicans +who were evidently driving them into a narrow lane that led farther +down. Carley saw the heads of men above other corral fences, and there +was also a thick yellowish smoke rising from somewhere. + +"Carley, are you game to see the dip?" asked Flo, with good nature that +yet had a touch of taunt in it. + +"That's my middle name," retorted Carley, flippantly. + +Both Glenn and this girl seemed to be bent upon bringing out Carley's +worst side, and they were succeeding. Flo laughed. The ready slang +pleased her. + +She led Carley along that log fence, through a huge open gate, and +across a wide pen to another fence, which she scaled. Carley followed +her, not particularly overanxious to look ahead. Some thick odor had +begun to reach Carley's delicate nostrils. Flo led down a short lane and +climbed another fence, and sat astride the top log. Carley hurried along +to clamber up to her side, but stood erect with her feet on the second +log of the fence. + +Then a horrible stench struck Carley almost like a blow in the face, and +before her confused sight there appeared to be drifting smoke and active +men and running sheep, all against a background of mud. But at first it +was the odor that caused Carley to close her eyes and press her knees +hard against the upper log to keep from reeling. Never in her life had +such a sickening nausea assailed her. It appeared to attack her whole +body. The forerunning qualm of seasickness was as nothing to this. +Carley gave a gasp, pinched her nose between her fingers so she could +not smell, and opened her eyes. + +Directly beneath her was a small pen open at one end into which sheep +were being driven from the larger corral. The drivers were yelling. The +sheep in the rear plunged into those ahead of them, forcing them on. Two +men worked in this small pen. One was a brawny giant in undershirt and +overalls that appeared filthy. He held a cloth in his hand and strode +toward the nearest sheep. Folding the cloth round the neck of the sheep, +he dragged it forward, with an ease which showed great strength, and +threw it into a pit that yawned at the side. Souse went the sheep into +a murky, muddy pool and disappeared. But suddenly its head came up and +then its shoulders. And it began half to walk and half swim down what +appeared to be a narrow boxlike ditch that contained other floundering +sheep. Then Carley saw men on each side of this ditch bending over with +poles that had crooks at the end, and their work was to press and pull +the sheep along to the end of the ditch, and drive them up a boarded +incline into another corral where many other sheep huddled, now a dirty +muddy color like the liquid into which they had been emersed. Souse! +Splash! In went sheep after sheep. Occasionally one did not go under. +And then a man would press it under with the crook and quickly lift its +head. The work went on with precision and speed, in spite of the yells +and trampling and baa-baas, and the incessant action that gave an effect +of confusion. + +Carley saw a pipe leading from a huge boiler to the ditch. The dark +fluid was running out of it. From a rusty old engine with big smokestack +poured the strangling smoke. A man broke open a sack of yellow powder +and dumped it into the ditch. Then he poured an acid-like liquid after +it. + +"Sulphur and nicotine," yelled Flo up at Carley. "The dip's poison. If +a sheep opens his mouth he's usually a goner. But sometimes they save +one." + +Carley wanted to tear herself away from this disgusting spectacle. But +it held her by some fascination. She saw Glenn and Hutter fall in line +with the other men, and work like beavers. These two pacemakers in the +small pen kept the sheep coming so fast that every worker below had a +task cut out for him. Suddenly Flo squealed and pointed. + +"There! that sheep didn't come up," she cried. "Shore he opened his +mouth." + +Then Carley saw Glenn energetically plunge his hooked pole in and out +and around until he had located the submerged sheep. He lifted its +head above the dip. The sheep showed no sign of life. Down on his knees +dropped Glenn, to reach the sheep with strong brown hands, and to haul +it up on the ground, where it flopped inert. Glenn pummeled it and +pressed it, and worked on it much as Carley had seen a life-guard work +over a half-drowned man. But the sheep did not respond to Glenn's active +administrations. + +"No use, Glenn," yelled Hutter, hoarsely. "That one's a goner." + +Carley did not fail to note the state of Glenn's hands and arms and +overalls when he returned to the ditch work. Then back and forth +Carley's gaze went from one end to the other of that scene. And suddenly +it was arrested and held by the huge fellow who handled the sheep so +brutally. Every time he dragged one and threw it into the pit he yelled: +"Ho! Ho!" Carley was impelled to look at his face, and she was amazed to +meet the rawest and boldest stare from evil eyes that had ever been her +misfortune to incite. She felt herself stiffen with a shock that was +unfamiliar. This man was scarcely many years older than Glenn, yet he +had grizzled hair, a seamed and scarred visage, coarse, thick lips, and +beetling brows, from under which peered gleaming light eyes. At every +turn he flashed them upon Carley's face, her neck, the swell of her +bosom. It was instinct that caused her hastily to close her riding coat. +She felt as if her flesh had been burned. Like a snake he fascinated +her. The intelligence in his bold gaze made the beastliness of it all +the harder to endure, all the stronger to arouse. + +"Come, Carley, let's rustle out of this stinkin' mess," cried Flo. + +Indeed, Carley needed Flo's assistance in clambering down out of the +choking smoke and horrid odor. + +"Adios, pretty eyes," called the big man from the pen. + +"Well," ejaculated Flo, when they got out, "I'll bet I call Glenn good +and hard for letting you go down there." + +"It was--my--fault," panted Carley. "I said I'd stand it." + +"Oh, you're game, all right. I didn't mean the dip.... That +sheep-slinger is Haze Ruff, the toughest hombre on this range. Shore, +now, wouldn't I like to take a shot at him?... I'm going to tell dad and +Glenn." + +"Please don't," returned Carley, appealingly. + +"I shore am. Dad needs hands these days. That's why he's lenient. But +Glenn will cowhide Ruff and I want to see him do it." + +In Flo Hutter then Carley saw another and a different spirit of the +West, a violence unrestrained and fierce that showed in the girl's even +voice and in the piercing light of her eyes. + +They went back to the horses, got their lunches from the saddlebags, +and, finding comfortable seats in a sunny, protected place, they ate +and talked. Carley had to force herself to swallow. It seemed that the +horrid odor of dip and sheep had permeated everything. Glenn had known +her better than she had known herself, and he had wished to spare her an +unnecessary and disgusting experience. Yet so stubborn was Carley that +she did not regret going through with it. + +"Carley, I don't mind telling you that you've stuck it out better than +any tenderfoot we ever had here," said Flo. + +"Thank you. That from a Western girl is a compliment I'll not soon +forget," replied Carley. + +"I shore mean it. We've had rotten weather. And to end the little trip +at this sheep-dip hole! Why, Glenn certainly wanted you to stack up +against the real thing!" + +"Flo, he did not want me to come on the trip, and especially here," +protested Carley. + +"Shore I know. But he let you." + +"Neither Glenn nor any other man could prevent me from doing what I +wanted to do." + +"Well, if you'll excuse me," drawled Flo, "I'll differ with you. I +reckon Glenn Kilbourne is not the man you knew before the war." + +"No, he is not. But that does not alter the case." + +"Carley, we're not well acquainted," went on Flo, more carefully feeling +her way, "and I'm not your kind. I don't know your Eastern ways. But I +know what the West does to a man. The war ruined your friend--both his +body and mind.... How sorry mother and I were for Glenn, those days +when it looked he'd sure 'go west,' for good!... Did you know he'd been +gassed and that he had five hemorrhages?" + +"Oh! I knew his lungs had been weakened by gas. But he never told me +about having hemorrhages." + +"Well, he shore had them. The last one I'll never forget. Every time +he'd cough it would fetch the blood. I could tell!... Oh, it was awful. +I begged him not to cough. He smiled--like a ghost smiling--and he +whispered, 'I'll quit.'... And he did. The doctor came from Flagstaff +and packed him in ice. Glenn sat propped up all night and never moved a +muscle. Never coughed again! And the bleeding stopped. After that we +put him out on the porch where he could breathe fresh air all the time. +There's something wonderfully healing in Arizona air. It's from the dry +desert and here it's full of cedar and pine. Anyway Glenn got well. And +I think the West has cured his mind, too." + +"Of what?" queried Carley, in an intense curiosity she could scarcely +hide. + +"Oh, God only knows!" exclaimed Flo, throwing up her gloved hands. "I +never could understand. But I hated what the war did to him." + +Carley leaned back against the log, quite spent. Flo was unwittingly +torturing her. Carley wanted passionately to give in to jealousy of this +Western girl, but she could not do it. Flo Hutter deserved better than +that. And Carley's baser nature seemed in conflict with all that was +noble in her. The victory did not yet go to either side. This was a bad +hour for Carley. Her strength had about played out, and her spirit was +at low ebb. + +"Carley, you're all in," declared Flo. "You needn't deny it. I'm shore +you've made good with me as a tenderfoot who stayed the limit. But +there's no sense in your killing yourself, nor in me letting you. So I'm +going to tell dad we want to go home." + +She left Carley there. The word home had struck strangely into Carley's +mind and remained there. Suddenly she realized what it was to be +homesick. The comfort, the ease, the luxury, the rest, the sweetness, +the pleasure, the cleanliness, the gratification to eye and ear--to all +the senses--how these thoughts came to haunt her! All of Carley's will +power had been needed to sustain her on this trip to keep her from +miserably failing. She had not failed. But contact with the West had +affronted, disgusted, shocked, and alienated her. In that moment she +could not be fair minded; she knew it; she did not care. + +Carley gazed around her. Only one of the cabins was in sight from this +position. Evidently it was a home for some of these men. On one side the +peaked rough roof had been built out beyond the wall, evidently to serve +as a kind of porch. On that wall hung the motliest assortment of things +Carley had ever seen--utensils, sheep and cow hides, saddles, harness, +leather clothes, ropes, old sombreros, shovels, stove pipe, and many +other articles for which she could find no name. The most striking +characteristic manifest in this collection was that of service. How +they had been used! They had enabled people to live under primitive +conditions. Somehow this fact inhibited Carley's sense of repulsion at +their rude and uncouth appearance. Had any of her forefathers ever been +pioneers? Carley did not know, but the thought was disturbing. It was +thought-provoking. Many times at home, when she was dressing for dinner, +she had gazed into the mirror at the graceful lines of her throat and +arms, at the proud poise of her head, at the alabaster whiteness of her +skin, and wonderingly she had asked of her image: "Can it be possible +that I am a descendant of cavemen?" She had never been able to realize +it, yet she knew it was true. Perhaps somewhere not far back along her +line there had been a great-great-grandmother who had lived some kind of +a primitive life, using such implements and necessaries as hung on this +cabin wall, and thereby helped some man to conquer the wilderness, to +live in it, and reproduce his kind. Like flashes Glenn's words came back +to Carley--"Work and children!" + +Some interpretation of his meaning and how it related to this hour held +aloof from Carley. If she would ever be big enough to understand it and +broad enough to accept it the time was far distant. Just now she was +sore and sick physically, and therefore certainly not in a receptive +state of mind. Yet how could she have keener impressions than these she +was receiving? It was all a problem. She grew tired of thinking. But +even then her mind pondered on, a stream of consciousness over which she +had no control. This dreary woods was deserted. No birds, no squirrels, +no creatures such as fancy anticipated! In another direction, across the +canyon, she saw cattle, gaunt, ragged, lumbering, and stolid. And on the +moment the scent of sheep came on the breeze. Time seemed to stand still +here, and what Carley wanted most was for the hours and days to fly, so +that she would be home again. + +At last Flo returned with the men. One quick glance at Glenn convinced +Carley that Flo had not yet told him about the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. + +"Carley, you're a real sport," declared Glenn, with the rare smile she +loved. "It's a dreadful mess. And to think you stood it!... Why, old +Fifth Avenue, if you needed to make another hit with me you've done it!" + +His warmth amazed and pleased Carley. She could not quite understand +why it would have made any difference to him whether she had stood the +ordeal or not. But then every day she seemed to drift a little farther +from a real understanding of her lover. His praise gladdened her, and +fortified her to face the rest of this ride back to Oak Creek. + +Four hours later, in a twilight so shadowy that no one saw her distress, +Carley half slipped and half fell from her horse and managed somehow to +mount the steps and enter the bright living room. A cheerful red fire +blazed on the hearth; Glenn's hound, Moze, trembled eagerly at sight of +her and looked up with humble dark eyes; the white-clothed dinner table +steamed with savory dishes. Flo stood before the blaze, warming her +hands. Lee Stanton leaned against the mantel, with eyes on her, and +every line of his lean, hard face expressed his devotion to her. +Hutter was taking his seat at the head of the table. "Come an' get +it--you-all," he called, heartily. Mrs. Hutter's face beamed with the +spirit of that home. And lastly, Carley saw Glenn waiting for her, +watching her come, true in this very moment to his stern hope for her +and pride in her, as she dragged her weary, spent body toward him and +the bright fire. + +By these signs, or the effect of them, Carley vaguely realized that she +was incalculably changing, that this Carley Burch had become a vastly +bigger person in the sight of her friends, and strangely in her own a +lesser creature. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +If spring came at all to Oak Creek Canyon it warmed into summer before +Carley had time to languish with the fever characteristic of early June +in the East. + +As if by magic it seemed the green grass sprang up, the green buds +opened into leaves, the bluebells and primroses bloomed, the apple and +peach blossoms burst exquisitely white and pink against the blue sky. +Oak Creek fell to a transparent, beautiful brook, leisurely eddying in +the stone walled nooks, hurrying with murmur and babble over the little +falls. The mornings broke clear and fragrantly cool, the noon hours +seemed to lag under a hot sun, the nights fell like dark mantles from +the melancholy star-sown sky. + +Carley had stubbornly kept on riding and climbing until she killed her +secret doubt that she was really a thoroughbred, until she satisfied her +own insistent vanity that she could train to a point where this outdoor +life was not too much for her strength. She lost flesh despite increase +of appetite; she lost her pallor for a complexion of gold-brown she knew +her Eastern friends would admire; she wore out the blisters and aches +and pains; she found herself growing firmer of muscle, lither of line, +deeper of chest. And in addition to these physical manifestations there +were subtle intimations of a delight in a freedom of body she had never +before known, of an exhilaration in action that made her hot and made +her breathe, of a sloughing off of numberless petty and fussy and +luxurious little superficialities which she had supposed were necessary +to her happiness. What she had undertaken in vain conquest of Glenn's +pride and Flo Hutter's Western tolerance she had found to be a +boomerang. She had won Glenn's admiration; she had won the Western +girl's recognition. But her passionate, stubborn desire had been +ignoble, and was proved so by the rebound of her achievement, coming +home to her with a sweetness she had not the courage to accept. She +forced it from her. This West with its rawness, its ruggedness, she +hated. + +Nevertheless, the June days passed, growing dreamily swift, growing more +incomprehensibly full; and still she had not broached to Glenn the main +object of her visit--to take him back East. Yet a little while +longer! She hated his work and had not talked of that. Yet an honest +consciousness told her that as time flew by she feared more and more to +tell him that he was wasting his life there and that she could not bear +it. Still was he wasting it? Once in a while a timid and unfamiliar +Carley Burch voiced a pregnant query. Perhaps what held Carley back most +was the happiness she achieved in her walks and rides with Glenn. She +lingered because of them. Every day she loved him more, and yet--there +was something. Was it in her or in him? She had a woman's assurance of +his love and sometimes she caught her breath--so sweet and strong was +the tumultuous emotion it stirred. She preferred to enjoy while she +could, to dream instead of think. But it was not possible to hold a +blank, dreamy, lulled consciousness all the time. Thought would return. +And not always could she drive away a feeling that Glenn would never be +her slave. She divined something in his mind that kept him gentle and +kindly, restrained always, sometimes melancholy and aloof, as if he +were an impassive destiny waiting for the iron consequences he knew +inevitably must fall. What was this that he knew which she did not know? +The idea haunted her. Perhaps it was that which compelled her to use all +her woman's wiles and charms on Glenn. Still, though it thrilled her to +see she made him love her more as the days passed, she could not blind +herself to the truth that no softness or allurement of hers changed this +strange restraint in him. How that baffled her! Was it resistance or +knowledge or nobility or doubt? + +Flo Hutter's twentieth birthday came along the middle of June, and all +the neighbors and range hands for miles around were invited to celebrate +it. + +For the second time during her visit Carley put on the white gown that +had made Flo gasp with delight, and had stunned Mrs. Hutter, and had +brought a reluctant compliment from Glenn. Carley liked to create a +sensation. What were exquisite and expensive gowns for, if not that? + +It was twilight on this particular June night when she was ready to go +downstairs, and she tarried a while on the long porch. The evening star, +so lonely and radiant, so cold and passionless in the dusky blue, had +become an object she waited for and watched, the same as she had come +to love the dreaming, murmuring melody of the waterfall. She lingered +there. What had the sights and sounds and smells of this wild canyon +come to mean to her? She could not say. But they had changed her +immeasurably. + +Her soft slippers made no sound on the porch, and as she turned +the corner of the house, where shadows hovered thick, she heard Lee +Stanton's voice: + +"But, Flo, you loved me before Kilbourne came." + +The content, the pathos, of his voice chained Carley to the spot. Some +situations, like fate, were beyond resisting. + +"Shore I did," replied Flo, dreamily. This was the voice of a girl who +was being confronted by happy and sad thoughts on her birthday. + +"Don't you--love me--still?" he asked, huskily. + +"Why, of course, Lee! I don't change," she said. + +"But then, why--" There for the moment his utterance or courage failed. + +"Lee, do you want the honest to God's truth?" + +"I reckon--I do." + +"Well, I love you just as I always did," replied Flo, earnestly. "But, +Lee, I love him more than you or anybody." + +"My Heaven! Flo--you'll ruin us all!" he exclaimed, hoarsely. + +"No, I won't either. You can't say I'm not level headed. I hated to tell +you this, Lee, but you made me." + +"Flo, you love me an' him--two men?" queried Stanton, incredulously. + +"I shore do," she drawled, with a soft laugh. "And it's no fun." + +"Reckon I don't cut much of a figure alongside Kilbourne," said Stanton, +disconsolately. + +"Lee, you could stand alongside any man," replied Flo, eloquently. +"You're Western, and you're steady and loyal, and you'll--well, some +day you'll be like dad. Could I say more?... But, Lee, this man is +different. He is wonderful. I can't explain it, but I feel it. He has +been through hell's fire. Oh! will I ever forget his ravings when he +lay so ill? He means more to me than just one man. He's American. You're +American, too, Lee, and you trained to be a soldier, and you would have +made a grand one--if I know old Arizona. But you were not called to +France.... Glenn Kilbourne went. God only knows what that means. But he +went. And there's the difference. I saw the wreck of him. I did a little +to save his life and his mind. I wouldn't be an American girl if I +didn't love him.... Oh, Lee, can't you understand?" + +"I reckon so. I'm not begrudging Glenn what--what you care. I'm only +afraid I'll lose you." + +"I never promised to marry you, did I?" + +"Not in words. But kisses ought to--?" + +"Yes, kisses mean a lot," she replied. "And so far I stand committed. +I suppose I'll marry you some day and be blamed lucky. I'll be happy, +too--don't you overlook that hunch.... You needn't worry. Glenn is in +love with Carley. She's beautiful, rich--and of his class. How could he +ever see me?" + +"Flo, you can never tell," replied Stanton, thoughtfully. "I didn't like +her at first. But I'm comin' round. The thing is, Flo, does she love him +as you love him?" + +"Oh, I think so--I hope so," answered Flo, as if in distress. + +"I'm not so shore. But then I can't savvy her. Lord knows I hope so, +too. If she doesn't--if she goes back East an' leaves him here--I reckon +my case--" + +"Hush! I know she's out here to take him back. Let's go downstairs now." + +"Aw, wait--Flo," he begged. "What's your hurry?... Come-give me--" + +"There! That's all you get, birthday or no birthday," replied Flo, +gayly. + +Carley heard the soft kiss and Stanton's deep breath, and then footsteps +as they walked away in the gloom toward the stairway. Carley leaned +against the log wall. She felt the rough wood--smelled the rusty pine +rosin. Her other hand pressed her bosom where her heart beat with +unwonted vigor. Footsteps and voices sounded beneath her. Twilight had +deepened into night. The low murmur of the waterfall and the babble of +the brook floated to her strained ears. + +Listeners never heard good of themselves. But Stanton's subtle doubt of +any depth to her, though it hurt, was not so conflicting as the ringing +truth of Flo Hutter's love for Glenn. This unsought knowledge powerfully +affected Carley. She was forewarned and forearmed now. It saddened her, +yet did not lessen her confidence in her hold on Glenn. But it stirred +to perplexing pitch her curiosity in regard to the mystery that seemed +to cling round Glenn's transformation of character. This Western girl +really knew more about Glenn than his fiancee knew. Carley suffered +a humiliating shock when she realized that she had been thinking of +herself, of her love, her life, her needs, her wants instead of Glenn's. +It took no keen intelligence or insight into human nature to see that +Glenn needed her more than she needed him. + +Thus unwontedly stirred and upset and flung back upon pride of herself, +Carley went downstairs to meet the assembled company. And never had +she shown to greater contrast, never had circumstance and state of mind +contrived to make her so radiant and gay and unbending. She heard +many remarks not intended for her far-reaching ears. An old grizzled +Westerner remarked to Hutter: "Wall, she's shore an unbroke filly." +Another of the company--a woman--remarked: "Sweet an' pretty as a +columbine. But I'd like her better if she was dressed decent." And a +gaunt range rider, who stood with others at the porch door, looking on, +asked a comrade: "Do you reckon that's style back East?" To which the +other replied: "Mebbe, but I'd gamble they're short on silk back East +an' likewise sheriffs." + +Carley received some meed of gratification out of the sensation she +created, but she did not carry her craving for it to the point of +overshadowing Flo. On the contrary, she contrived to have Flo share the +attention she received. She taught Flo to dance the fox-trot and got +Glenn to dance with her. Then she taught it to Lee Stanton. And when Lee +danced with Flo, to the infinite wonder and delight of the onlookers, +Carley experienced her first sincere enjoyment of the evening. + +Her moment came when she danced with Glenn. It reminded her of days +long past and which she wanted to return again. Despite war tramping and +Western labors Glenn retained something of his old grace and lightness. +But just to dance with him was enough to swell her heart, and for once +she grew oblivious to the spectators. + +"Glenn, would you like to go to the Plaza with me again, and dance +between dinner courses, as we used to?" she whispered up to him. + +"Sure I would--unless Morrison knew you were to be there," he replied. + +"Glenn!... I would not even see him." + +"Any old time you wouldn't see Morrison!" he exclaimed, half mockingly. + +His doubt, his tone grated upon her. Pressing closer to him, she said, +"Come back and I'll prove it." + +But he laughed and had no answer for her. At her own daring words +Carley's heart had leaped to her lips. If he had responded, even +teasingly, she could have burst out with her longing to take him back. +But silence inhibited her, and the moment passed. + +At the end of that dance Hutter claimed Glenn in the interest of +neighboring sheep men. And Carley, crossing the big living room alone, +passed close to one of the porch doors. Some one, indistinct in the +shadow, spoke to her in low voice: "Hello, pretty eyes!" + +Carley felt a little cold shock go tingling through her. But she gave no +sign that she had heard. She recognized the voice and also the epithet. +Passing to the other side of the room and joining the company there, +Carley presently took a casual glance at the door. Several men were +lounging there. One of them was the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. His bold +eyes were on her now, and his coarse face wore a slight, meaning smile, +as if he understood something about her that was a secret to others. +Carley dropped her eyes. But she could not shake off the feeling that +wherever she moved this man's gaze followed her. The unpleasantness +of this incident would have been nothing to Carley had she at once +forgotten it. Most unaccountably, however, she could not make herself +unaware of this ruffian's attention. It did no good for her to argue +that she was merely the cynosure of all eyes. This Ruff's tone and look +possessed something heretofore unknown to Carley. Once she was tempted +to tell Glenn. But that would only cause a fight, so she kept her +counsel. She danced again, and helped Flo entertain her guests, and +passed that door often; and once stood before it, deliberately, with all +the strange and contrary impulse so inscrutable in a woman, and never +for a moment wholly lost the sense of the man's boldness. It dawned +upon her, at length, that the singular thing about this boldness was +its difference from any, which had ever before affronted her. The fool's +smile meant that he thought she saw his attention, and, understanding +it perfectly, had secret delight in it. Many and various had been the +masculine egotisms which had come under her observation. But quite +beyond Carley was this brawny sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. Once the party +broke up and the guests had departed, she instantly forgot both man and +incident. + +Next day, late in the afternoon, when Carley came out on the porch, she +was hailed by Flo, who had just ridden in from down the canyon. + +"Hey Carley, come down. I shore have something to tell you," she called. + +Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway. +Flo was dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of +sheep-dip. + +"Been over to Ryan's camp an' shore rode hard to beat Glenn home," +drawled Flo. + +"Why?" queried Carley, eagerly. + +"Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn't let me +tell. ... He makes me tired. He thinks you can't stand things." + +"Oh! Has he been--hurt?" + +"He's skinned an' bruised up some, but I reckon he's not hurt." + +"Flo--what happened?" demanded Carley, anxiously. + +"Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?" asked Flo. + +"No, I don't. But I remember he used to be athletic. Flo, you make me +nervous. Did Glenn fight?" + +"I reckon he did," drawled Flo. + +"With whom?" + +"Nobody else but that big hombre, Haze Ruff." + +"Oh!" gasped Carley, with a violent start. "That--that ruffian! Flo, did +you see--were you there?" + +"I shore was, an' next to a horse race I like a fight," replied the +Western girl. "Carley, why didn't you tell me Haze Ruff insulted you +last night?" + +"Why, Flo--he only said, 'Hello, pretty eyes,' and I let it pass!" said +Carley, lamely. + +"You never want to let anything pass, out West. Because next time you'll +get worse. This turn your other cheek doesn't go in Arizona. But +we shore thought Ruff said worse than that. Though from him that's +aplenty." + +"How did you know?" + +"Well, Charley told it. He was standing out here by the door last night +an' he heard Ruff speak to you. Charley thinks a heap of you an' I +reckon he hates Ruff. Besides, Charley stretches things. He shore riled +Glenn, an' I want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that's +happened since you got here." + +"Hurry--tell me," begged Carley, feeling the blood come to her face. + +"I rode over to Ryan's place for dad, an' when I got there I knew +nothing about what Ruff said to you," began Flo, and she took hold of +Carley's hand. "Neither did dad. You see, Glenn hadn't got there yet. +Well, just as the men had finished dipping a bunch of sheep Glenn came +riding down, lickety cut." + +"'Now what the hell's wrong with Glenn?' said dad, getting up from where +we sat. + +"Shore I knew Glenn was mad, though I never before saw him that way. +He looked sort of grim an' black.... Well, he rode right down on us an' +piled off. Dad yelled at him an' so did I. But Glenn made for the sheep +pen. You know where we watched Haze Ruff an' Lorenzo slinging the sheep +into the dip. Ruff was just about to climb out over the fence when Glenn +leaped up on it." + +"'Say, Ruff,' he said, sort of hard, 'Charley an' Ben tell me they heard +you speak disrespectfully to Miss Burch last night.'" + +"Dad an' I ran to the fence, but before we could catch hold of Glenn +he'd jumped down into the pen." + +"'I'm not carin' much for what them herders say,' replied Ruff. + +"'Do you deny it?' demanded Glenn. + +"'I ain't denyin' nothin', Kilbourne,' growled Ruff. 'I might argue +against me bein' disrespectful. That's a matter of opinion.' + +"'You'll apologize for speaking to Miss Burch or I'll beat you up an' +have Hutter fire you.' + +"'Wal, Kilbourne, I never eat my words,' replied Ruff. + +"Then Glenn knocked him flat. You ought to have heard that crack. +Sounded like Charley hitting a steer with a club. Dad yelled: 'Look out, +Glenn. He packs a gun!'--Ruff got up mad clear through I reckon. Then +they mixed it. Ruff got in some swings, but he couldn't reach Glenn's +face. An' Glenn batted him right an' left, every time in his ugly +mug. Ruff got all bloody an' he cussed something awful. Glenn beat him +against the fence an' then we all saw Ruff reach for a gun or knife. All +the men yelled. An' shore I screamed. But Glenn saw as much as we saw. +He got fiercer. He beat Ruff down to his knees an' swung on him hard. +Deliberately knocked Ruff into the dip ditch. What a splash! It wet all +of us. Ruff went out of sight. Then he rolled up like a huge hog. We +were all scared now. That dip's rank poison, you know. Reckon Ruff knew +that. He floundered along an' crawled up at the end. Anyone could +see that he had mouth an' eyes tight shut. He began to grope an' feel +around, trying to find the way to the pond. One of the men led him out. +It was great to see him wade in the water an' wallow an' souse his head +under. When he came out the men got in front of him any stopped him. +He shore looked bad.... An' Glenn called to him, 'Ruff, that sheep-dip +won't go through your tough hide, but a bullet will!" + + +Not long after this incident Carley started out on her usual afternoon +ride, having arranged with Glenn to meet her on his return from work. + +Toward the end of June Carley had advanced in her horsemanship to a +point where Flo lent her one of her own mustangs. This change might not +have had all to do with a wonderful difference in riding, but it seemed +so to Carley. There was as much difference in horses as in people. This +mustang she had ridden of late was of Navajo stock, but he had been born +and raised and broken at Oak Creek. Carley had not yet discovered any +objection on his part to do as she wanted him to. He liked what she +liked, and most of all he liked to go. His color resembled a pattern +of calico, and in accordance with Western ways his name was therefore +Calico. Left to choose his own gait, Calico always dropped into a gentle +pace which was so easy and comfortable and swinging that Carley never +tired of it. Moreover, he did not shy at things lying in the road or +rabbits darting from bushes or at the upwhirring of birds. Carley had +grown attached to Calico before she realized she was drifting into it; +and for Carley to care for anything or anybody was a serious matter, +because it did not happen often and it lasted. She was exceedingly +tenacious of affection. + +June had almost passed and summer lay upon the lonely land. Such perfect +and wonderful weather had never before been Carley's experience. The +dawns broke cool, fresh, fragrant, sweet, and rosy, with a breeze that +seemed of heaven rather than earth, and the air seemed tremulously full +of the murmur of falling water and the melody of mocking birds. At the +solemn noontides the great white sun glared down hot--so hot that +it burned the skin, yet strangely was a pleasant burn. The waning +afternoons were Carley's especial torment, when it seemed the sounds and +winds of the day were tiring, and all things were seeking repose, and +life must soften to an unthinking happiness. These hours troubled Carley +because she wanted them to last, and because she knew for her this +changing and transforming time could not last. So long as she did not +think she was satisfied. + +Maples and sycamores and oaks were in full foliage, and their bright +greens contrasted softly with the dark shine of the pines. Through the +spaces between brown tree trunks and the white-spotted holes of the +sycamores gleamed the amber water of the creek. Always there was murmur +of little rills and the musical dash of little rapids. On the surface +of still, shady pools trout broke to make ever-widening ripples. Indian +paintbrush, so brightly carmine in color, lent touch of fire to the +green banks, and under the oaks, in cool dark nooks where mossy bowlders +lined the stream, there were stately nodding yellow columbines. And high +on the rock ledges shot up the wonderful mescal stalks, beginning to +blossom, some with tints of gold and others with tones of red. + +Riding along down the canyon, under its looming walls, Carley wondered +that if unawares to her these physical aspects of Arizona could have +become more significant than she realized. The thought had confronted +her before. Here, as always, she fought it and denied it by the simple +defense of elimination. Yet refusing to think of a thing when it seemed +ever present was not going to do forever. Insensibly and subtly it might +get a hold on her, never to be broken. Yet it was infinitely easier to +dream than to think. + +But the thought encroached upon her that it was not a dreamful habit of +mind she had fallen into of late. When she dreamed or mused she lived +vaguely and sweetly over past happy hours or dwelt in enchanted fancy +upon a possible future. Carley had been told by a Columbia professor +that she was a type of the present age--a modern young woman of +materialistic mind. Be that as it might, she knew many things seemed +loosening from the narrowness and tightness of her character, sloughing +away like scales, exposing a new and strange and susceptible softness +of fiber. And this blank habit of mind, when she did not think, and +now realized that she was not dreaming, seemed to be the body of Carley +Burch, and her heart and soul stripped of a shell. Nerve and emotion +and spirit received something from her surroundings. She absorbed her +environment. She felt. It was a delightful state. But when her own +consciousness caused it to elude her, then she both resented and +regretted. Anything that approached permanent attachment to this crude +and untenanted West Carley would not tolerate for a moment. Reluctantly +she admitted it had bettered her health, quickened her blood, and quite +relegated Florida and the Adirondacks, to little consideration. + +"Well, as I told Glenn," soliloquized Carley, "every time I'm almost +won over a little to Arizona she gives me a hard jolt. I'm getting near +being mushy today. Now let's see what I'll get. I suppose that's my +pessimism or materialism. Funny how Glenn keeps saying its the jolts, +the hard knocks, the fights that are best to remember afterward. I don't +get that at all." + +Five miles below West Fork a road branched off and climbed the left side +of the canyon. It was a rather steep road, long and zigzaging, and full +of rocks and ruts. Carley did not enjoy ascending it, but she preferred +the going up to coming down. It took half an hour to climb. + +Once up on the flat cedar-dotted desert she was met, full in the face, +by a hot dusty wind coming from the south. Carley searched her pockets +for her goggles, only to ascertain that she had forgotten them. Nothing, +except a freezing sleety wind, annoyed and punished Carley so much as +a hard puffy wind, full of sand and dust. Somewhere along the first few +miles of this road she was to meet Glenn. If she turned back for any +cause he would be worried, and, what concerned her more vitally, he +would think she had not the courage to face a little dust. So Carley +rode on. + +The wind appeared to be gusty. It would blow hard awhile, then lull +for a few moments. On the whole, however, it increased in volume and +persistence until she was riding against a gale. She had now come to a +bare, flat, gravelly region, scant of cedars and brush, and far ahead +she could see a dull yellow pall rising high into the sky. It was a +duststorm and it was sweeping down on the wings of that gale. Carley +remembered that somewhere along this flat there was a log cabin which +had before provided shelter for her and Flo when they were caught in a +rainstorm. It seemed unlikely that she had passed by this cabin. + +Resolutely she faced the gale and knew she had a task to find that +refuge. If there had been a big rock or bushy cedar to offer shelter she +would have welcomed it. But there was nothing. When the hard dusty +gusts hit her, she found it absolutely necessary to shut her eyes. At +intervals less windy she opened them, and rode on, peering through +the yellow gloom for the cabin. Thus she got her eyes full of dust--an +alkali dust that made them sting and smart. The fiercer puffs of wind +carried pebbles large enough to hurt severely. Then the dust clogged +her nose and sand got between her teeth. Added to these annoyances was a +heat like a blast from a furnace. Carley perspired freely and that caked +the dust on her face. She rode on, gradually growing more uncomfortable +and miserable. Yet even then she did not utterly lose a sort of +thrilling zest in being thrown upon her own responsibility. She could +hate an obstacle, yet feel something of pride in holding her own against +it. + +Another mile of buffeting this increasing gale so exhausted Carley and +wrought upon her nerves that she became nearly panic-stricken. It grew +harder and harder not to turn back. At last she was about to give up +when right at hand through the flying dust she espied the cabin. Riding +behind it, she dismounted and tied the mustang to a post. Then she ran +around to the door and entered. + +What a welcome refuge! She was all right now, and when Glenn came along +she would have added to her already considerable list another feat for +which he would commend her. With aid of her handkerchief, and the +tears that flowed so copiously, Carley presently freed her eyes of +the blinding dust. But when she essayed to remove it from her face she +discovered she would need a towel and soap and hot water. + +The cabin appeared to be enveloped in a soft, swishing, hollow sound. +It seeped and rustled. Then the sound lulled, only to rise again. +Carley went to the door, relieved and glad to see that the duststorm was +blowing by. The great sky-high pall of yellow had moved on to the +north. Puffs of dust were whipping along the road, but no longer in +one continuous cloud. In the west, low down the sun was sinking, a dull +magenta in hue, quite weird and remarkable. + +"I knew I'd get the jolt all right," soliloquized Carley, wearily, as +she walked to a rude couch of poles and sat down upon it. She had begun +to cool off. And there, feeling dirty and tired, and slowly wearing to +the old depression, she composed herself to wait. + +Suddenly she heard the clip-clop of hoofs. "There! that's Glenn," she +cried, gladly, and rising, she ran to the door. + +She saw a big bay horse bearing a burly rider. He discovered her at the +same instant, and pulled his horse. + +"Ho! Ho! if it ain't Pretty Eyes!" he called out, in gay, coarse voice. + +Carley recognized the voice, and then the epithet, before her sight +established the man as Haze Ruff. A singular stultifying shock passed +over her. + +"Wal, by all thet's lucky!" he said, dismounting. "I knowed we'd meet +some day. I can't say I just laid fer you, but I kept my eyes open." + +Manifestly he knew she was alone, for he did not glance into the cabin. + +"I'm waiting for--Glenn," she said, with lips she tried to make stiff. + +"Shore I reckoned thet," he replied, genially. "But he won't be along +yet awhile." + +He spoke with a cheerful inflection of tone, as if the fact designated +was one that would please her; and his swarthy, seamy face expanded into +a good-humored, meaning smile. Then without any particular rudeness he +pushed her back from the door, into the cabin, and stepped across the +threshold. + +"How dare--you!" cried Carley. A hot anger that stirred in her seemed +to be beaten down and smothered by a cold shaking internal commotion, +threatening collapse. This man loomed over her, huge, somehow monstrous +in his brawny uncouth presence. And his knowing smile, and the hard, +glinting twinkle of his light eyes, devilishly intelligent and keen, in +no wise lessened the sheer brutal force of him physically. Sight of his +bulk was enough to terrorize Carley. + +"Me! Aw, I'm a darin' hombre an' a devil with the wimmin," he said, with +a guffaw. + +Carley could not collect her wits. The instant of his pushing her back +into the cabin and following her had shocked her and almost paralyzed +her will. If she saw him now any the less fearful she could not so +quickly rally her reason to any advantage. + +"Let me out of here," she demanded. + +"Nope. I'm a-goin' to make a little love to you," he said, and he +reached for her with great hairy hands. + +Carley saw in them the strength that had so easily swung the sheep. She +saw, too, that they were dirty, greasy hands. And they made her flesh +creep. + +"Glenn will kill--you," she panted. + +"What fer?" he queried, in real or pretended surprise. "Aw, I know +wimmin. You'll never tell him." + +"Yes, I will." + +"Wal, mebbe. I reckon you're lyin', Pretty Eyes," he replied, with a +grin. "Anyhow, I'll take a chance." + +"I tell you--he'll kill you," repeated Carley, backing away until her +weak knees came against the couch. + +"What fer, I ask you?" he demanded. + +"For this--this insult." + +"Huh! I'd like to know who's insulted you. Can't a man take an +invitation to kiss an' hug a girl--without insultin' her?" + +"Invitation!... Are you crazy?" queried Carley, bewildered. + +"Nope, I'm not crazy, an' I shore said invitation.... I meant thet white +shimmy dress you wore the night of Flo's party. Thet's my invitation to +get a little fresh with you, Pretty Eyes!" + +Carley could only stare at him. His words seemed to have some peculiar, +unanswerable power. + +"Wal, if it wasn't an invitation, what was it?" he asked, with another +step that brought him within reach of her. He waited for her answer, +which was not forthcoming. + +"Wal, you're gettin' kinda pale around the gills," he went on, +derisively. "I reckoned you was a real sport.... Come here." + +He fastened one of his great hands in the front of her coat and gave +her a pull. So powerful was it that Carley came hard against him, almost +knocking her breathless. There he held her a moment and then put his +other arm round her. It seemed to crush both breath and sense out +of her. Suddenly limp, she sank strengthless. She seemed reeling in +darkness. Then she felt herself thrust away from him with violence. She +sank on the couch and her head and shoulders struck the wall. + +"Say, if you're a-goin' to keel over like thet I pass," declared Ruff, +in disgust. "Can't you Eastern wimmin stand nothin?" + +Carley's eyes opened and beheld this man in an attitude of supremely +derisive protest. + +"You look like a sick kitten," he added. "When I get me a sweetheart or +wife I want her to be a wild cat." + +His scorn and repudiation of her gave Carley intense relief. She sat up +and endeavored to collect her shattered nerves. Ruff gazed down at her +with great disapproval and even disappointment. + +"Say, did you have some fool idee I was a-goin' to kill you?" he +queried, gruffly. + +"I'm afraid--I did," faltered Carley. Her relief was a release; it was +so strange that it was gratefulness. + +"Wal, I reckon I wouldn't have hurt you. None of these flop-over Janes +for me!... An' I'll give you a hunch, Pretty Eyes. You might have run +acrost a fellar thet was no gentleman!" + +Of all the amazing statements that had ever been made to Carley, this +one seemed the most remarkable. + +"What'd you wear thet onnatural white dress fer?" he demanded, as if he +had a right to be her judge. + +"Unnatural?" echoed Carley. + +"Shore. Thet's what I said. Any woman's dress without top or bottom +is onnatural. It's not right. Why, you looked like--like"--here he +floundered for adequate expression--"like one of the devil's angels. An' +I want to hear why you wore it." + +"For the same reason I'd wear any dress," she felt forced to reply. + +"Pretty Eyes, thet's a lie. An' you know it's a lie. You wore thet white +dress to knock the daylights out of men. Only you ain't honest enough +to say so.... Even me or my kind! Even us, who're dirt under your little +feet. But all the same we're men, an' mebbe better men than you think. +If you had to put that dress on, why didn't you stay in your room? Naw, +you had to come down an' strut around an' show off your beauty. An' I +ask you--if you're a nice girl like Flo Hutter--what'd you wear it fer?" + +Carley not only was mute; she felt rise and burn in her a singular shame +and surprise. + +"I'm only a sheep dipper," went on Ruff, "but I ain't no fool. A fellar +doesn't have to live East an' wear swell clothes to have sense. Mebbe +you'll learn thet the West is bigger'n you think. A man's a man East or +West. But if your Eastern men stand for such dresses as thet white +one they'd do well to come out West awhile, like your lover, Glenn +Kilbourne. I've been rustlin' round here ten years, an' I never before +seen a dress like yours--an' I never heerd of a girl bein' insulted, +either. Mebbe you think I insulted you. Wal, I didn't. Fer I reckon +nothin' could insult you in thet dress.... An' my last hunch is this, +Pretty Eyes. You're not what a hombre like me calls either square or +game. Adios." + +His bulky figure darkened the doorway, passed out, and the light of the +sky streamed into the cabin again. Carley sat staring. She heard Ruff's +spurs tinkle, then the ring of steel on stirrup, a sodden leathery sound +as he mounted, and after that a rapid pound of hoofs, quickly dying +away. + +He was gone. She had escaped something raw and violent. Dazedly she +realized it, with unutterable relief. And she sat there slowly gathering +the nervous force that had been shattered. Every word that he had +uttered was stamped in startling characters upon her consciousness. +But she was still under the deadening influence of shock. This raw +experience was the worst the West had yet dealt her. It brought back +former states of revulsion and formed them in one whole irrefutable and +damning judgment that seemed to blot out the vaguely dawning and growing +happy susceptibilities. It was, perhaps, just as well to have her mind +reverted to realistic fact. The presence of Haze Ruff, the astounding +truth of the contact with his huge sheep-defiled hands, had been +profanation and degradation under which she sickened with fear and +shame. Yet hovering back of her shame and rising anger seemed to be a +pale, monstrous, and indefinable thought, insistent and accusing, with +which she must sooner or later reckon. It might have been the voice of +the new side of her nature, but at that moment of outraged womanhood, +and of revolt against the West, she would not listen. It might, too, +have been the still small voice of conscience. But decision of mind +and energy coming to her then, she threw off the burden of emotion and +perplexity, and forced herself into composure before the arrival of +Glenn. + +The dust had ceased to blow, although the wind had by no means died +away. Sunset marked the west in old rose and gold, a vast flare. Carley +espied a horseman far down the road, and presently recognized both rider +and steed. He was coming fast. She went out and, mounting her mustang, +she rode out to meet Glenn. It did not appeal to her to wait for him +at the cabin; besides hoof tracks other than those made by her mustang +might have been noticed by Glenn. Presently he came up to her and pulled +his loping horse. + +"Hello! I sure was worried," was his greeting, as his gloved hand went +out to her. "Did you run into that sandstorm?" + +"It ran into me, Glenn, and buried me," she laughed. + +His fine eyes lingered on her face with glad and warm glance, and the +keen, apprehensive penetration of a lover. + +"Well, under all that dust you look scared," he said. + +"Scared! I was worse than that. When I first ran into the flying dirt I +was only afraid I'd lose my way--and my complexion. But when the worst +of the storm hit me--then I feared I'd lose my breath." + +"Did you face that sand and ride through it all?" he queried. + +"No, not all. But enough. I went through the worst of it before I +reached the cabin," she replied. + +"Wasn't it great?" + +"Yes--great bother and annoyance," she said, laconically. + +Whereupon he reached with long, arm and wrapped it round her as they +rocked side by side. Demonstrations of this nature were infrequent with +Glenn. Despite losing one foot out of a stirrup and her seat in the +saddle Carley rather encouraged it. He kissed her dusty face, and then +set her back. + +"By George! Carley, sometimes I think you've changed since you've been +here," he said, with warmth. "To go through that sandstorm without one +kick--one knock at my West!" + +"Glenn, I always think of what Flo says--the worst is yet to come," +replied Carley, trying to hide her unreasonable and tumultuous pleasure +at words of praise from him. + +"Carley Burch, you don't know yourself," he declared, enigmatically. + +"What woman knows herself? But do you know me?" + +"Not I. Yet sometimes I see depths in you--wonderful +possibilities--submerged under your poise--under your fixed, complacent +idle attitude toward life." + +This seemed for Carley to be dangerously skating near thin ice, but she +could not resist a retort: + +"Depths in me? Why I am a shallow, transparent stream like your West +Fork! ... And as for possibilities--may I ask what of them you imagine +you see?" + +"As a girl, before you were claimed by the world, you were earnest at +heart. You had big hopes and dreams. And you had intellect, too. But you +have wasted your talents, Carley. Having money, and spending it, living +for pleasure, you have not realized your powers.... Now, don't look +hurt. I'm not censuring you. It's just the way of modern life. And most +of your friends have been more careless, thoughtless, useless than you. +The aim of their existence is to be comfortable, free from work, worry, +pain. They want pleasure, luxury. And what a pity it is! The best of you +girls regard marriage as an escape, instead of responsibility. You don't +marry to get your shoulders square against the old wheel of American +progress--to help some man make good--to bring a troop of healthy +American kids into the world. You bare your shoulders to the gaze of the +multitude and like it best if you are strung with pearls." + +"Glenn, you distress me when you talk like this," replied Carley, +soberly. "You did not use to talk so. It seems to me you are bitter +against women." + +"Oh no, Carley! I am only sad," he said. "I only see where once I was +blind. American women are the finest on earth, but as a race, if they +don't change, they're doomed to extinction." + +"How can you say such things?" demanded Carley, with spirit. + +"I say them because they are true. Carley, on the level now, tell me how +many of your immediate friends have children." + +Put to a test, Carley rapidly went over in mind her circle of friends, +with the result that she was somewhat shocked and amazed to realize how +few of them were even married, and how the babies of her acquaintance +were limited to three. It was not easy to admit this to Glenn. + +"My dear," replied he, "if that does not show you the handwriting on the +wall, nothing ever will." + +"A girl has to find a husband, doesn't she?" asked Carley, roused to +defense of her sex. "And if she's anybody she has to find one in her +set. Well, husbands are not plentiful. Marriage certainly is not the end +of existence these days. We have to get along somehow. The high cost of +living is no inconsderable factor today. Do you know that most of the +better-class apartment houses in New York will not take children? Women +are not all to blame. Take the speed mania. Men must have automobiles. +I know one girl who wanted a baby, but her husband wanted a car. They +couldn't afford both." + +"Carley, I'm not blaming women more than men," returned Glenn. "I don't +know that I blame them as a class. But in my own mind I have worked it +all out. Every man or woman who is genuinely American should read the +signs of the times, realize the crisis, and meet it in an American way. +Otherwise we are done as a race. Money is God in the older countries. +But it should never become God in America. If it does we will make the +fall of Rome pale into insignificance." + +"Glenn, let's put off the argument," appealed Carley. "I'm not--just up +to fighting you today. Oh--you needn't smile. I'm not showing a yellow +streak, as Flo puts it. I'll fight you some other time." + +"You're right, Carley," he assented. "Here we are loafing six or seven +miles from home. Let's rustle along." + +Riding fast with Glenn was something Carley had only of late added to +her achievements. She had greatest pride in it. So she urged her mustang +to keep pace with Glenn's horse and gave herself up to the thrill of the +motion and feel of wind and sense of flying along. At a good swinging +lope Calico covered ground swiftly and did not tire. Carley rode the two +miles to the rim of the canyon, keeping alongside of Glenn all the way. +Indeed, for one long level stretch she and Glenn held hands. When they +arrived at the descent, which necessitated slow and careful riding, +she was hot and tingling and breathless, worked by the action into an +exuberance of pleasure. Glenn complimented her riding as well as her +rosy cheeks. There was indeed a sweetness in working at a task as she +had worked to learn to ride in Western fashion. Every turn of her mind +seemed to confront her with sobering antitheses of thought. Why had she +come to love to ride down a lonely desert road, through ragged cedars +where the wind whipped her face with fragrant wild breath, if at the +same time she hated the West? Could she hate a country, however barren +and rough, if it had saved the health and happiness of her future +husband? Verily there were problems for Carley to solve. + +Early twilight purple lay low in the hollows and clefts of the canyon. +Over the western rim a pale ghost of the evening star seemed to smile +at Carley, to bid her look and look. Like a strain of distant music, the +dreamy hum of falling water, the murmur and melody of the stream, came +again to Carley's sensitive ear. + +"Do you love this?" asked Glenn, when they reached the green-forested +canyon floor, with the yellow road winding away into the purple shadows. + +"Yes, both the ride--and you," flashed Carley, contrarily. She knew he +had meant the deep-walled canyon with its brooding solitude. + +"But I want you to love Arizona," he said. + +"Glenn, I'm a faithful creature. You should be glad of that. I love New +York." + +"Very well, then. Arizona to New York," he said, lightly brushing her +cheek with his lips. And swerving back into his saddle, he spurred his +horse and called back over his shoulder: "That mustang and Flo have +beaten me many a time. Come on." + +It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley. +Had he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity? Always there +was a little rift in the lute. Had his tone and look meant that Flo +might catch him if Carley could not? Absurd as the idea was, it spurred +her to recklessness. Her mustang did not need any more than to know she +wanted him to run. The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green +foliage and overspread by pines. In a moment she was racing at a speed +she had never before half attained on a horse. Down the winding road +Glenn's big steed sped, his head low, his stride tremendous, his action +beautiful. But Carley saw the distance between them diminishing. Calico +was overtaking the bay. She cried out in the thrilling excitement of the +moment. Glenn saw her gaining and pressed his mount to greater speed. +Still he could not draw away from Calico. Slowly the little mustang +gained. It seemed to Carley that riding him required no effort at all. +And at such fast pace, with the wind roaring in her ears, the walls of +green vague and continuous in her sight, the sting of pine tips on cheek +and neck, the yellow road streaming toward her, under her, there rose +out of the depths of her, out of the tumult of her breast, a sense of +glorious exultation. She closed in on Glenn. From the flying hoofs of +his horse shot up showers of damp sand and gravel that covered Carley's +riding habit and spattered in her face. She had to hold up a hand before +her eyes. Perhaps this caused her to lose something of her confidence, +or her swing in the saddle, for suddenly she realized she was not riding +well. The pace was too fast for her inexperience. But nothing could have +stopped her then. No fear or awkwardness of hers should be allowed to +hamper that thoroughbred mustang. Carley felt that Calico understood +the situation; or at least he knew he could catch and pass this big bay +horse, and he intended to do it. Carley was hard put to it to hang on +and keep the flying sand from blinding her. + +When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to +breast with Glenn, and then inch by inch forged ahead of him, Carley +pealed out an exultant cry. Either it frightened Calico or inspired +him, for he shot right ahead of Glenn's horse. Then he lost the smooth, +wonderful action. He seemed hurtling through space at the expense +of tremendous muscular action. Carley could feel it. She lost her +equilibrium. She seemed rushing through a blurred green and black aisle +of the forest with a gale in her face. Then, with a sharp jolt, a break, +Calico plunged to the sand. Carley felt herself propelled forward out +of the saddle into the air, and down to strike with a sliding, stunning +force that ended in sudden dark oblivion. + +Upon recovering consciousness she first felt a sensation of oppression +in her chest and a dull numbness of her whole body. When she opened her +eyes she saw Glenn bending over her, holding her head on his knee. A +wet, cold, reviving sensation evidently came from the handkerchief with +which he was mopping her face. + +"Carley, you can't be hurt--really!" he was ejaculating, in eager hope. +"It was some spill. But you lit on the sand and slid. You can't be +hurt." + +The look of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the feel of his hands were +such that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly +hurt indeed. It was worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn +Kilbourne. But she believed she had suffered no more than a severe +bruising and scraping. + +"Glenn--dear," she whispered, very low and very eloquently. "I think--my +back--is broken.... You'll be free--soon." + +Glenn gave a terrible start and his face turned a deathly white. He +burst out with quavering, inarticulate speech. + +Carley gazed up at him and then closed her eyes. She could not look at +him while carrying on such deceit. Yet the sight of him and the feel of +him then were inexpressibly blissful to her. What she needed most was +assurance of his love. She had it. Beyond doubt, beyond morbid fancy, +the truth had proclaimed itself, filling her heart with joy. + +Suddenly she flung her arms up around his neck. "Oh--Glenn! It was too +good a chance to miss!... I'm not hurt a bit." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The day came when Carley asked Mrs. Hutter: "Will you please put up a +nice lunch for Glenn and me? I'm going to walk down to his farm where +he's working, and surprise him." + +"That's a downright fine idea," declared Mrs. Hutter, and forthwith +bustled away to comply with Carley's request. + +So presently Carley found herself carrying a bountiful basket on her +arm, faring forth on an adventure that both thrilled and depressed her. +Long before this hour something about Glenn's work had quickened her +pulse and given rise to an inexplicable admiration. That he was big and +strong enough to do such labor made her proud; that he might want to go +on doing it made her ponder and brood. + +The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June, when the air +appeared flooded by rich thick amber light. Only the sun here was hotter +and the shade cooler. + +Carley took to the trail below where West Fork emptied its golden-green +waters into Oak Creek. The red walls seemed to dream and wait under the +blaze of the sun; the heat lay like a blanket over the still foliage; +the birds were quiet; only the murmuring stream broke the silence of +the canyon. Never had Carley felt more the isolation and solitude of +Oak Creek Canyon. Far indeed from the madding crowd! Only Carley's +stubbornness kept her from acknowledging the sense of peace that +enveloped her--that and the consciousness of her own discontent. What +would it be like to come to this canyon--to give up to its enchantments? +That, like many another disturbing thought, had to go unanswered, to +be driven into the closed chambers of Carley's mind, there to germinate +subconsciously, and stalk forth some day to overwhelm her. + +The trail led along the creek, threading a maze of bowlders, passing +into the shade of cottonwoods, and crossing sun-flecked patches of sand. +Carley's every step seemed to become slower. Regrets were assailing +her. Long indeed had she overstayed her visit to the West. She must not +linger there indefinitely. And mingled with misgiving was a surprise +that she had not tired of Oak Creek. In spite of all, and of the dislike +she vaunted to herself, the truth stared at her--she was not tired. + +The long-delayed visit to see Glenn working on his own farm must result +in her talking to him about his work; and in a way not quite clear she +regretted the necessity for it. To disapprove of Glenn! She received +faint intimations of wavering, of uncertainty, of vague doubt. But these +were cried down by the dominant and habitable voice of her personality. + +Presently through the shaded and shadowed breadth of the belt of forest +she saw gleams of a sunlit clearing. And crossing this space to the +border of trees she peered forth, hoping to espy Glenn at his labors. +She saw an old shack, and irregular lines of rude fence built of poles +of all sizes and shapes, and several plots of bare yellow ground, +leading up toward the west side of the canyon wall. Could this clearing +be Glenn's farm? Surely she had missed it or had not gone far enough. +This was not a farm, but a slash in the forested level of the canyon +floor, bare and somehow hideous. Dead trees were standing in the lots. +They had been ringed deeply at the base by an ax, to kill them, and so +prevent their foliage from shading the soil. Carley saw a long pile of +rocks that evidently had been carried from the plowed ground. There +was no neatness, no regularity, although there was abundant evidence of +toil. To clear that rugged space, to fence it, and plow it, appeared at +once to Carley an extremely strenuous and useless task. Carley persuaded +herself that this must be the plot of ground belonging to the herder +Charley, and she was about to turn on down the creek when far up under +the bluff she espied a man. He was stalking along and bending down, +stalking along and bending down. She recognized Glenn. He was planting +something in the yellow soil. + +Curiously Carley watched him, and did not allow her mind to become +concerned with a somewhat painful swell of her heart. What a stride he +had! How vigorous he looked, and earnest! He was as intent upon this job +as if he had been a rustic. He might have been failing to do it well, +but he most certainly was doing it conscientiously. Once he had said to +her that a man should never be judged by the result of his labors, but +by the nature of his effort. A man might strive with all his heart and +strength, yet fail. Carley watched him striding along and bending down, +absorbed in his task, unmindful of the glaring hot sun, and somehow to +her singularly detached from the life wherein he had once moved and to +which she yearned to take him back. Suddenly an unaccountable flashing +query assailed her conscience: How dare she want to take him back? She +seemed as shocked as if some stranger had accosted her. What was this +dimming of her eye, this inward tremulousness; this dammed tide beating +at an unknown and riveted gate of her intelligence? She felt more then +than she dared to face. She struggled against something in herself. The +old habit of mind instinctively resisted the new, the strange. But she +did not come off wholly victorious. The Carley Burch whom she recognized +as of old, passionately hated this life and work of Glenn Kilbourne's, +but the rebel self, an unaccountable and defiant Carley, loved him all +the better for them. + +Carley drew a long deep breath before she called Glenn. This meeting +would be momentous and she felt no absolute surety of herself. + +Manifestly he was surprised to hear her call, and, dropping his sack +and implement, he hurried across the tilled ground, sending up puffs of +dust. He vaulted the rude fence of poles, and upon sight of her +called out lustily. How big and virile he looked! Yet he was gaunt and +strained. It struck Carley that he had not looked so upon her arrival at +Oak Creek. Had she worried him? The query gave her a pang. + +"Sir Tiller of the Fields," said Carley, gayly, "see, your dinner! I +brought it and I am going to share it." + +"You old darling!" he replied, and gave her an embrace that left her +cheek moist with the sweat of his. He smelled of dust and earth and his +body was hot. "I wish to God it could be true for always!" + +His loving, bearish onslaught and his words quite silenced Carley. How +at critical moments he always said the thing that hurt her or inhibited +her! She essayed a smile as she drew back from him. + +"It's sure good of you," he said, taking the basket. "I was thinking I'd +be through work sooner today, and was sorry I had not made a date with +you. Come, we'll find a place to sit." + +Whereupon he led her back under the trees to a half-sunny, half-shady +bench of rock overhanging the stream. Great pines overshadowed a still, +eddying pool. A number of brown butterflies hovered over the water, and +small trout floated like spotted feathers just under the surface. Drowsy +summer enfolded the sylvan scene. + +Glenn knelt at the edge of the brook, and, plunging his hands in, he +splashed like a huge dog and bathed his hot face and head, and then +turned to Carley with gay words and laughter, while he wiped himself dry +with a large red scarf. Carley was not proof against the virility of him +then, and at the moment, no matter what it was that had made him the man +he looked, she loved it. + +"I'll sit in the sun," he said, designating a place. "When you're hot +you mustn't rest in the shade, unless you've coat or sweater. But you +sit here in the shade." + +"Glenn, that'll put us too far apart," complained Carley. "I'll sit in +the sun with you." + +The delightful simplicity and happiness of the ensuing hour was +something Carley believed she would never forget. + +"There! we've licked the platter clean," she said. "What starved bears +we were!.... I wonder if I shall enjoy eating--when I get home. I used +to be so finnicky and picky." + +"Carley, don't talk about home," said Glenn, appealingly. + +"You dear old farmer, I'd love to stay here and just dream--forever," +replied Carley, earnestly. "But I came on purpose to talk seriously." + +"Oh, you did! About what?" he returned, with some quick, indefinable +change of tone and expression. + +"Well, first about your work. I know I hurt your feelings when I +wouldn't listen. But I wasn't ready. I wanted to--to just be gay with +you for a while. Don't think I wasn't interested. I was. And now, I'm +ready to hear all about it--and everything." + +She smiled at him bravely, and she knew that unless some unforeseen +shock upset her composure, she would be able to conceal from him +anything which might hurt his feelings. + +"You do look serious," he said, with keen eyes on her. + +"Just what are your business relations with Hutter?" she inquired. + +"I'm simply working for him," replied Glenn. "My aim is to get an +interest in his sheep, and I expect to, some day. We have some plans. +And one of them is the development of that Deep Lake section. You +remember--you were with us. The day Spillbeans spilled you?" + +"Yes, I remember. It was a pretty place," she replied. + +Carley did not tell him that for a month past she had owned the +Deep Lake section of six hundred and forty acres. She had, in fact, +instructed Hutter to purchase it, and to keep the transaction a secret +for the present. Carley had never been able to understand the impulse +that prompted her to do it. But as Hutter had assured her it was a +remarkably good investment on very little capital, she had tried +to persuade herself of its advantages. Back of it all had been an +irresistible desire to be able some day to present to Glenn this ranch +site he loved. She had concluded he would never wholly dissociate +himself from this West; and as he would visit it now and then, she +had already begun forming plans of her own. She could stand a month in +Arizona at long intervals. + +"Hutter and I will go into cattle raising some day," went on Glenn. "And +that Deep Lake place is what I want for myself." + +"What work are you doing for Hutter?" asked Carley. + +"Anything from building fence to cutting timber," laughed Glenn. "I've +not yet the experience to be a foreman like Lee Stanton. Besides, I have +a little business all my own. I put all my money in that." + +"You mean here--this--this farm?" + +"Yes. And the stock I'm raisin'. You see I have to feed corn. And +believe me, Carley, those cornfields represent some job." + +"I can well believe that," replied Carley. "You--you looked it." + +"Oh, the hard work is over. All I have to do now it to plant and keep +the weeds out." + +"Glenn, do sheep eat corn?" + +"I plant corn to feed my hogs." + +"Hogs?" she echoed, vaguely. + +"Yes, hogs," he said, with quiet gravity. "The first day you visited my +cabin I told you I raised hogs, and I fried my own ham for your dinner." + +"Is that what you--put your money in?" + +"Yes. And Hutter says I've done well." + +"Hogs!" ejaculated Carley, aghast. + +"My dear, are you growin' dull of comprehension?" retorted Glenn. +"H-o-g-s." He spelled the word out. "I'm in the hog-raising business, +and pretty blamed well pleased over my success so far." + +Carley caught herself in time to quell outwardly a shock of amaze and +revulsion. She laughed, and exclaimed against her stupidity. The look +of Glenn was no less astounding than the content of his words. He was +actually proud of his work. Moreover, he showed not the least sign that +he had any idea such information might be startlingly obnoxious to his +fiancee. + +"Glenn! It's so--so queer," she ejaculated. "That you--Glenn +Kilbourne-should ever go in for--for hogs!... It's unbelievable. How'd +you ever--ever happen to do it?" + +"By Heaven! you're hard on me!" he burst out, in sudden dark, fierce +passion. "How'd I ever happen to do it?... What was there left for me? +I gave my soul and heart and body to the government--to fight for my +country. I came home a wreck. What did my government do for me? What did +my employers do for me? What did the people I fought for do for me?... +Nothing--so help me God--nothing!... I got a ribbon and a bouquet--a +little applause for an hour--and then the sight of me sickened my +countrymen. I was broken and used. I was absolutely forgotten.... But +my body, my life, my soul meant all to me. My future was ruined, but I +wanted to live. I had killed men who never harmed me--I was not fit to +die.... I tried to live. So I fought out my battle alone. Alone!... +No one understood. No one cared. I came West to keep from dying of +consumption in sight of the indifferent mob for whom I had sacrificed +myself. I chose to die on my feet away off alone somewhere.... But I got +well. And what made me well--and saved my soul--was the first work that +offered. Raising and tending hogs!" + +The dead whiteness of Glenn's face, the lightning scorn of his eyes, the +grim, stark strangeness of him then had for Carley a terrible harmony +with this passionate denunciation of her, of her kind, of the America +for whom he had lost all. + +"Oh, Glenn!--forgive--me!" she faltered. "I was only--talking. What do I +know? Oh, I am blind--blind and little!" + +She could not bear to face him for a moment, and she hung her head. Her +intelligence seemed concentrating swift, wild thoughts round the shock +to her consciousness. By that terrible expression of his face, by those +thundering words of scorn, would she come to realize the mighty truth +of his descent into the abyss and his rise to the heights. Vaguely she +began to see. An awful sense of her deadness, of her soul-blighting +selfishness, began to dawn upon her as something monstrous out of dim, +gray obscurity. She trembled under the reality of thoughts that were not +new. How she had babbled about Glenn and the crippled soldiers! How she +had imagined she sympathized! But she had only been a vain, worldly, +complacent, effusive little fool. She had here the shock of her life, +and she sensed a greater one, impossible to grasp. + +"Carley, that was coming to you," said Glenn, presently, with deep, +heavy expulsion of breath. + +"I only know I love you--more--more," she cried, wildly, looking up and +wanting desperately to throw herself in his arms. + +"I guess you do--a little," he replied. "Sometimes I feel you are a +kid. Then again you represent the world--your world with its age-old +custom--its unalterable.... But, Carley, let's get back to my work." + +"Yes--yes," exclaimed Carley, gladly. "I'm ready to--to go pet your +hogs--anything." + +"By George! I'll take you up," he declared. "I'll bet you won't go near +one of my hogpens." + +"Lead me to it!" she replied, with a hilarity that was only a nervous +reversion of her state. + +"Well, maybe I'd better hedge on the bet," he said, laughing again. "You +have more in you than I suspect. You sure fooled me when you stood for +the sheep-dip. But, come on, I'll take you anyway." + +So that was how Carley found herself walking arm in arm with Glenn +down the canyon trail. A few moments of action gave her at least an +appearance of outward composure. And the state of her emotion was so +strained and intense that her slightest show of interest must deceive +Glenn into thinking her eager, responsive, enthusiastic. It certainly +appeared to loosen his tongue. But Carley knew she was farther from +normal than ever before in her life, and that the subtle, inscrutable +woman's intuition of her presaged another shock. Just as she had seemed +to change, so had the aspects of the canyon undergone some illusive +transformation. The beauty of green foliage and amber stream and brown +tree trunks and gray rocks and red walls was there; and the summer +drowsiness and languor lay as deep; and the loneliness and solitude +brooded with its same eternal significance. But some nameless +enchantment, perhaps of hope, seemed no longer to encompass her. A blow +had fallen upon her, the nature of which only time could divulge. + +Glenn led her around the clearing and up to the base of the west wall, +where against a shelving portion of the cliff had been constructed a +rude fence of poles. It formed three sides of a pen, and the fourth side +was solid rock. A bushy cedar tree stood in the center. Water flowed +from under the cliff, which accounted for the boggy condition of the red +earth. This pen was occupied by a huge sow and a litter of pigs. + +Carley climbed on the fence and sat there while Glenn leaned over the +top pole and began to wax eloquent on a subject evidently dear to his +heart. Today of all days Carley made an inspiring listener. Even the +shiny, muddy, suspicious old sow in no wise daunted her fictitious +courage. That filthy pen of mud a foot deep, and of odor rancid, had +no terrors for her. With an arm round Glenn's shoulder she watched the +rooting and squealing little pigs, and was amused and interested, as if +they were far removed from the vital issue of the hour. But all the time +as she looked and laughed, and encouraged Glenn to talk, there seemed to +be a strange, solemn, oppressive knocking at her heart. Was it only the +beat-beat-beat of blood? + +"There were twelve pigs in that litter," Glenn was saying, "and now +you see there are only nine. I've lost three. Mountain lions, bears, +coyotes, wild cats are all likely to steal a pig. And at first I was +sure one of these varmints had been robbing me. But as I could not find +any tracks, I knew I had to lay the blame on something else. So I kept +watch pretty closely in daytime, and at night I shut the pigs up in +the corner there, where you see I've built a pen. Yesterday I heard +squealing--and, by George! I saw an eagle flying off with one of my +pigs. Say, I was mad. A great old bald-headed eagle--the regal bird you +see with America's stars and stripes had degraded himself to the level +of a coyote. I ran for my rifle, and I took some quick shots at him as +he flew up. Tried to hit him, too, but I failed. And the old rascal hung +on to my pig. I watched him carry it to that sharp crag way up there on +the rim." + +"Poor little piggy!" exclaimed Carley. "To think of our American +emblem--our stately bird of noble warlike mien--our symbol of lonely +grandeur and freedom of the heights--think of him being a robber of +pigpens!--Glenn, I begin to appreciate the many-sidedness of things. +Even my hide-bound narrowness is susceptible to change. It's never too +late to learn. This should apply to the Society for the Preservation of +the American Eagle." + +Glenn led her along the base of the wall to three other pens, in each of +which was a fat old sow with a litter. And at the last enclosure, that +owing to dry soil was not so dirty, Glenn picked up a little pig and +held it squealing out to Carley as she leaned over the fence. It was +fairly white and clean, a little pink and fuzzy, and certainly cute with +its curled tall. + +"Carley Burch, take it in your hands," commanded Glenn. + +The feat seemed monstrous and impossible of accomplishment for Carley. +Yet such was her temper at the moment that she would have undertaken +anything. + +"Why, shore I will, as Flo says," replied Carley, extending her ungloved +hands. "Come here, piggy. I christen you Pinky." And hiding an almost +insupportable squeamishness from Glenn, she took the pig in her hands +and fondled it. + +"By George!" exclaimed Glenn, in huge delight. "I wouldn't have believed +it. Carley, I hope you tell your fastidious and immaculate Morrison that +you held one of my pigs in your beautiful hands." + +"Wouldn't it please you more to tell him yourself?" asked Carley. + +"Yes, it would," declared Glenn, grimly. + +This incident inspired Glenn to a Homeric narration of his hog-raising +experience. In spite of herself the content of his talk interested her. +And as for the effect upon her of his singular enthusiasm, it was deep +and compelling. The little-boned Berkshire razorback hogs grew so large +and fat and heavy that their bones broke under their weight. The Duroc +jerseys were the best breed in that latitude, owing to their larger +and stronger bones, that enabled them to stand up under the greatest +accumulation of fat. + +Glenn told of his droves of pigs running wild in the canyon below. In +summertime they fed upon vegetation, and at other seasons on acorns, +roots, bugs, and grubs. Acorns, particularly, were good and fattening +feed. They ate cedar and juniper berries, and pinyon nuts. And therefore +they lived off the land, at little or no expense to the owner. The +only loss was from beasts and birds of prey. Glenn showed Carley how +a profitable business could soon be established. He meant to fence off +side canyons and to segregate droves of his hogs, and to raise abundance +of corn for winter feed. At that time there was a splendid market +for hogs, a condition Hutter claimed would continue indefinitely in +a growing country. In conclusion Glenn eloquently told how in his +necessity he had accepted gratefully the humblest of labors, to find in +the hard pursuit of it a rejuvenation of body and mind, and a promise of +independence and prosperity. + +When he had finished, and excused himself to go repair a weak place in +the corral fence, Carley sat silent, wrapped in strange meditation. + +Whither had faded the vulgarity and ignominy she had attached to Glenn's +raising of hogs? Gone--like other miasmas of her narrow mind! Partly she +understood him now. She shirked consideration of his sacrifice to his +country. That must wait. But she thought of his work, and the more she +thought the less she wondered. + +First he had labored with his hands. What infinite meaning lay unfolding +to her vision! Somewhere out of it all came the conception that man was +intended to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. But there was more +to it than that. By that toil and sweat, by the friction of horny palms, +by the expansion and contraction of muscle, by the acceleration of +blood, something great and enduring, something physical and spiritual, +came to a man. She understood then why she would have wanted to +surrender herself to a man made manly by toil; she understood how a +woman instinctively leaned toward the protection of a man who had used +his hands--who had strength and red blood and virility who could fight +like the progenitors of the race. Any toil was splendid that served this +end for any man. It all went back to the survival of the fittest. +And suddenly Carley thought of Morrison. He could dance and dangle +attendance upon her, and amuse her--but how would he have acquitted +himself in a moment of peril? She had her doubts. Most assuredly he +could not have beaten down for her a ruffian like Haze Ruff. What then +should be the significance of a man for a woman? + +Carley's querying and answering mind reverted to Glenn. He had found +a secret in this seeking for something through the labor of hands. All +development of body must come through exercise of muscles. The virility +of cell in tissue and bone depended upon that. Thus he had found in toil +the pleasure and reward athletes had in their desultory training. But +when a man learned this secret the need of work must become permanent. +Did this explain the law of the Persians that every man was required to +sweat every day? + +Carley tried to picture to herself Glenn's attitude of mind when he +had first gone to work here in the West. Resolutely she now denied her +shrinking, cowardly sensitiveness. She would go to the root of this +matter, if she had intelligence enough. Crippled, ruined in health, +wrecked and broken by an inexplicable war, soul-blighted by the +heartless, callous neglect of government and public, on the verge of +madness at the insupportable facts, he had yet been wonderful enough, +true enough to himself and God, to fight for life with the instinct of +a man, to fight for his mind with a noble and unquenchable faith. +Alone indeed he had been alone! And by some miracle beyond the power of +understanding he had found day by day in his painful efforts some hope +and strength to go on. He could not have had any illusions. For Glenn +Kilbourne the health and happiness and success most men held so dear +must have seemed impossible. His slow, daily, tragic, and terrible task +must have been something he owed himself. Not for Carley Burch! She like +all the others had failed him. How Carley shuddered in confession of +that! Not for the country which had used him and cast him off! Carley +divined now, as if by a flash of lightning, the meaning of Glenn's +strange, cold, scornful, and aloof manner when he had encountered young +men of his station, as capable and as strong as he, who had escaped the +service of the army. For him these men did not exist. They were less +than nothing. They had waxed fat on lucrative jobs; they had basked in +the presence of girls whose brothers and lovers were in the trenches +or on the turbulent sea, exposed to the ceaseless dread and almost +ceaseless toil of war. If Glenn's spirit had lifted him to endurance +of war for the sake of others, how then could it fail him in a precious +duty of fidelity to himself? Carley could see him day by day toiling in +his lonely canyon--plodding to his lonely cabin. He had been playing +the game--fighting it out alone as surely he knew his brothers of like +misfortune were fighting. + +So Glenn Kilbourne loomed heroically in Carley's transfigured sight. He +was one of Carley's battle-scarred warriors. Out of his travail he had +climbed on stepping-stones of his dead self. Resurgam! That had been +his unquenchable cry. Who had heard it? Only the solitude of his lonely +canyon, only the waiting, dreaming, watching walls, only the silent +midnight shadows, only the white, blinking, passionless stars, only the +wild creatures of his haunts, only the moaning wind in the pines--only +these had been with him in his agony. How near were these things to God? + +Carley's heart seemed full to bursting. Not another single moment could +her mounting love abide in a heart that held a double purpose. How +bitter the assurance that she had not come West to help him! It was +self, self, all self that had actuated her. Unworthy indeed was she of +the love of this man. Only a lifetime of devotion to him could acquit +her in the eyes of her better self. Sweetly and madly raced the thrill +and tumult of her blood. There must be only one outcome to her romance. +Yet the next instant there came a dull throbbing--an oppression +which was pain--an impondering vague thought of catastrophe. Only the +fearfulness of love perhaps! + +She saw him complete his task and wipe his brown moist face and stride +toward her, coming nearer, tall and erect with something added to his +soldierly bearing, with a light in his eyes she could no longer bear. + +The moment for which she had waited more than two months had come at +last. + +"Glenn--when will you go back East?" she asked, tensely and low. + +The instant the words were spent upon her lips she realized that he +had always been waiting and prepared for this question that had been so +terrible for her to ask. + +"Carley," he replied gently, though his voice rang, "I am never going +back East." + +An inward quivering hindered her articulation. + +"Never?" she whispered. + +"Never to live, or stay any while," he went on. "I might go some time +for a little visit.... But never to live." + +"Oh--Glenn!" she gasped, and her hands fluttered out to him. The shock +was driving home. No amaze, no incredulity succeeded her reception of +the fact. It was a slow stab. Carley felt the cold blanch of her skin. +"Then--this is it--the something I felt strange between us?" + +"Yes, I knew--and you never asked me," he replied. + +"That was it? All the time you knew," she whispered, huskily. "You knew. +... I'd never--marry you--never live out here?" + +"Yes, Carley, I knew you'd never be woman enough--American enough--to +help me reconstruct my broken life out here in the West," he replied, +with a sad and bitter smile. + +That flayed her. An insupportable shame and wounded vanity and clamoring +love contended for dominance of her emotions. Love beat down all else. + +"Dearest--I beg of you--don't break my heart," she implored. + +"I love you, Carley," he answered, steadily, with piercing eyes on hers. + +"Then come back--home--home with me." + +"No. If you love me you will be my wife." + +"Love you! Glenn, I worship you," she broke out, passionately. "But I +could not live here--I could not." + +"Carley, did you ever read of the woman who said, 'Whither thou goest, +there will I go'..." + +"Oh, don't be ruthless! Don't judge me.... I never dreamed of this. I +came West to take you back." + +"My dear, it was a mistake," he said, gently, softening to her distress. +"I'm sorry I did not write you more plainly. But, Carley, I could not +ask you to share this--this wilderness home with me. I don't ask it now. +I always knew you couldn't do it. Yet you've changed so--that I hoped +against hope. Love makes us blind even to what we see." + +"Don't try to spare me. I'm slight and miserable. I stand abased in +my own eyes. I thought I loved you. But I must love best the +crowd--people--luxury--fashion--the damned round of things I was born +to." + +"Carley, you will realize their insufficiency too late," he replied, +earnestly. "The things you were born to are love, work, children, +happiness." + +"Don't! don't!... they are hollow mockery for me," she cried, +passionately. "Glenn, it is the end. It must come--quickly.... You are +free." + +"I do not ask to be free. Wait. Go home and look at it again with +different eyes. Think things over. Remember what came to me out of the +West. I will always love you--and I will be here--hoping--" + +"I--I cannot listen," she returned, brokenly, and she clenched her +hands tightly to keep from wringing them. "I--I cannot face you.... Here +is--your ring.... You--are--free.... Don't stop me--don't come.... Oh, +Glenn, good-by!" + +With breaking heart she whirled away from him and hurried down the slope +toward the trail. The shade of the forest enveloped her. Peering back +through the trees, she saw Glenn standing where she had left him, as +if already stricken by the loneliness that must be his lot. A sob broke +from Carley's throat. She hated herself. She was in a terrible state of +conflict. Decision had been wrenched from her, but she sensed unending +strife. She dared not look back again. Stumbling and breathless, she +hurried on. How changed the atmosphere and sunlight and shadow of the +canyon! The looming walls had pitiless eyes for her flight. When she +crossed the mouth of West Fork an almost irresistible force breathed to +her from under the stately pines. + +An hour later she had bidden farewell to the weeping Mrs. Hutter, and to +the white-faced Flo, and Lolomi Lodge, and the murmuring waterfall, and +the haunting loneliness of Oak Creek Canyon. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +At Flagstaff, where Carley arrived a few minutes before train time, she +was too busily engaged with tickets and baggage to think of herself +or of the significance of leaving Arizona. But as she walked into the +Pullman she overheard a passenger remark, "Regular old Arizona sunset," +and that shook her heart. Suddenly she realized she had come to love the +colorful sunsets, to watch and wait for them. And bitterly she thought +how that was her way to learn the value of something when it was gone. + +The jerk and start of the train affected her with singular depressing +shock. She had burned her last bridge behind her. Had she unconsciously +hoped for some incredible reversion of Glenn's mind or of her own? A +sense of irreparable loss flooded over her--the first check to shame and +humiliation. + +From her window she looked out to the southwest. Somewhere across the +cedar and pine-greened uplands lay Oak Creek Canyon, going to sleep in +its purple and gold shadows of sunset. Banks of broken clouds hung to +the horizon, like continents and islands and reefs set in a turquoise +sea. Shafts of sunlight streaked down through creamy-edged and +purple-centered clouds. Vast flare of gold dominated the sunset +background. + +When the train rounded a curve Carley's strained vision became filled +with the upheaved bulk of the San Francisco Mountains. Ragged gray +grass slopes and green forests on end, and black fringed sky lines, all +pointed to the sharp clear peaks spearing the sky. And as she watched, +the peaks slowly flushed with sunset hues, and the sky flared golden, +and the strength of the eternal mountains stood out in sculptured +sublimity. Every day for two months and more Carley had watched these +peaks, at all hours, in every mood; and they had unconsciously become a +part of her thought. The train was relentlessly whirling her eastward. +Soon they must become a memory. Tears blurred her sight. Poignant regret +seemed added to the anguish she was suffering. Why had she not learned +sooner to see the glory of the mountains, to appreciate the beauty and +solitude? Why had she not understood herself? + +The next day through New Mexico she followed magnificent ranges and +valleys--so different from the country she had seen coming West--so +supremely beautiful that she wondered if she had only acquired the +harvest of a seeing eye. + +But it was at sunset of the following day, when the train was speeding +down the continental slope of prairie land beyond the Rockies, that the +West took its ruthless revenge. + +Masses of strange cloud and singular light upon the green prairie, and a +luminosity in the sky, drew Carley to the platform of her car, which was +the last of the train. There she stood, gripping the iron gate, feeling +the wind whip her hair and the iron-tracked ground speed from under her, +spellbound and stricken at the sheer wonder and glory of the firmament, +and the mountain range that it canopied so exquisitely. + +A rich and mellow light, singularly clear, seemed to flood out of some +unknown source. For the sun was hidden. The clouds just above +Carley hung low, and they were like thick, heavy smoke, mushrooming, +coalescing, forming and massing, of strange yellow cast of nature. It +shaded westward into heliotrope and this into a purple so royal, so +matchless and rare that Carley understood why the purple of the heavens +could never be reproduced in paint. Here the cloud mass thinned and +paled, and a tint of rose began to flush the billowy, flowery, creamy +white. Then came the surpassing splendor of this cloud pageant--a vast +canopy of shell pink, a sun-fired surface like an opal sea, rippled +and webbed, with the exquisite texture of an Oriental fabric, pure, +delicate, lovely--as no work of human hands could be. It mirrored all +the warm, pearly tints of the inside whorl of the tropic nautilus. And +it ended abruptly, a rounded depth of bank, on a broad stream of clear +sky, intensely blue, transparently blue, as if through the lambent +depths shone the infinite firmament. The lower edge of this stream +took the golden lightning of the sunset and was notched for all its +horizon-long length by the wondrous white glistening-peaked range of the +Rockies. Far to the north, standing aloof from the range, loomed up the +grand black bulk and noble white dome of Pikes Peak. + +Carley watched the sunset transfiguration of cloud and sky and mountain +until all were cold and gray. And then she returned to her seat, +thoughtful and sad, feeling that the West had mockingly flung at her one +of its transient moments of loveliness. + +Nor had the West wholly finished with her. Next day the mellow gold of +the Kansas wheat fields, endless and boundless as a sunny sea, rich, +waving in the wind, stretched away before her aching eyes for hours +and hours. Here was the promise fulfilled, the bountiful harvest of the +land, the strength of the West. The great middle state had a heart of +gold. + +East of Chicago Carley began to feel that the long days and nights of +riding, the ceaseless turning of the wheels, the constant and wearing +stress of emotion, had removed her an immeasurable distance of miles and +time and feeling from the scene of her catastrophe. Many days seemed to +have passed. Many had been the hours of her bitter regret and anguish. + +Indiana and Ohio, with their green pastoral farms, and numberless +villages, and thriving cities, denoted a country far removed and +different from the West, and an approach to the populous East. Carley +felt like a wanderer coming home. She was restlessly and impatiently +glad. But her weariness of body and mind, and the close atmosphere of +the car, rendered her extreme discomfort. Summer had laid its hot hand +on the low country east of the Mississippi. + +Carley had wired her aunt and two of her intimate friends to meet her at +the Grand Central Station. This reunion soon to come affected Carley +in recurrent emotions of relief, gladness, and shame. She did not sleep +well, and arose early, and when the train reached Albany she felt that +she could hardly endure the tedious hours. The majestic Hudson and the +palatial mansions on the wooded bluffs proclaimed to Carley that she was +back in the East. How long a time seemed to have passed! Either she was +not the same or the aspect of everything had changed. But she believed +that as soon as she got over the ordeal of meeting her friends, and was +home again, she would soon see things rationally. + +At last the train sheered away from the broad Hudson and entered +the environs of New York. Carley sat perfectly still, to all outward +appearances a calm, superbly-poised New York woman returning home, +but inwardly raging with contending tides. In her own sight she was a +disgraceful failure, a prodigal sneaking back to the ease and protection +of loyal friends who did not know her truly. Every familiar landmark +in the approach to the city gave her a thrill, yet a vague unsatisfied +something lingered after each sensation. + +Then the train with rush and roar crossed the Harlem River to enter New +York City. As one waking from a dream Carley saw the blocks and squares +of gray apartment houses and red buildings, the miles of roofs and +chimneys, the long hot glaring streets full of playing children and +cars. Then above the roar of the train sounded the high notes of a +hurdy-gurdy. Indeed she was home. Next to startle her was the dark +tunnel, and then the slowing of the train to a stop. As she walked +behind a porter up the long incline toward the station gate her legs +seemed to be dead. + +In the circle of expectant faces beyond the gate she saw her aunt's, +eager and agitated, then the handsome pale face of Eleanor Harmon, and +beside her the sweet thin one of Beatrice Lovell. As they saw her how +quick the change from expectancy to joy! It seemed they all rushed upon +her, and embraced her, and exclaimed over her together. Carley never +recalled what she said. But her heart was full. + +"Oh, how perfectly stunning you look!" cried Eleanor, backing away from +Carley and gazing with glad, surprised eyes. + +"Carley!" gasped Beatrice. "You wonderful golden-skinned goddess!... +You're young again, like you were in our school days." + +It was before Aunt Mary's shrewd, penetrating, loving gaze that Carley +quailed. + +"Yes, Carley, you look well--better than I ever saw you, but--but--" + +"But I don't look happy," interrupted Carley. "I am happy to get +home--to see you all... But--my--my heart is broken!" + +A little shocked silence ensued, then Carley found herself being led +across the lower level and up the wide stairway. As she mounted to the +vast-domed cathedral-like chamber of the station a strange sensation +pierced her with a pang. Not the old thrill of leaving New York or +returning! Nor was it the welcome sight of the hurrying, well-dressed +throng of travelers and commuters, nor the stately beauty of the +station. Carley shut her eyes, and then she knew. The dim light of vast +space above, the looming gray walls, shadowy with tracery of figures, +the lofty dome like the blue sky, brought back to her the walls of Oak +Creek Canyon and the great caverns under the ramparts. As suddenly as +she had shut her eyes Carley opened them to face her friends. + +"Let me get it over--quickly," she burst out, with hot blood surging +to her face. "I--I hated the West. It was so raw--so violent--so big. +I think I hate it more--now.... But it changed me--made me over +physically--and did something to my soul--God knows what.... And it has +saved Glenn. Oh! he is wonderful! You would never know him.... For long +I had not the courage to tell him I came to bring him back East. I kept +putting it off. And I rode, I climbed, I camped, I lived outdoors. At +first it nearly killed me. Then it grew bearable, and easier, until I +forgot. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit now that somehow I had a +wonderful time, in spite of all.... Glenn's business is raising hogs. He +has a hog ranch. Doesn't it sound sordid? But things are not always +what they sound--or seem. Glenn is absorbed in his work. I hated it--I +expected to ridicule it. But I ended by infinitely respecting him. I +learned through his hog-raising the real nobility of work.... Well, at +last I found courage to ask him when he was coming back to New York. He +said 'never!'... I realized then my blindness, my selfishness. I could +not be his wife and live there. I could not. I was too small, too +miserable, too comfort-loving--too spoiled. And all the time he knew +this--knew I'd never be big enough to marry him.... That broke my heart. +I left him free--and here I am.... I beg you--don't ask me any more--and +never to mention it to me--so I can forget." + +The tender unspoken sympathy of women who loved her proved comforting +in that trying hour. With the confession ruthlessly made the hard +compression in Carley's breast subsided, and her eyes cleared of a +hateful dimness. When they reached the taxi stand outside the station +Carley felt a rush of hot devitalized air from the street. She seemed +not to be able to get air into her lungs. + +"Isn't it dreadfully hot?" she asked. + +"This is a cool spell to what we had last week," replied Eleanor. + +"Cool!" exclaimed Carley, as she wiped her moist face. "I wonder if you +Easterners know the real significance of words." + +Then they entered a taxi, to be whisked away apparently through a +labyrinthine maze of cars and streets, where pedestrians had to run +and jump for their lives. A congestion of traffic at Fifth Avenue and +Forty-second Street halted their taxi for a few moments, and here in +the thick of it Carley had full assurance that she was back in the +metropolis. Her sore heart eased somewhat at sight of the streams of +people passing to and fro. How they rushed! Where were they going? What +was their story? And all the while her aunt held her hand, and Beatrice +and Eleanor talked as fast as their tongues could wag. Then the taxi +clattered on up the Avenue, to turn down a side street and presently +stop at Carley's home. It was a modest three-story brown-stone house. +Carley had been so benumbed by sensations that she did not imagine +she could experience a new one. But peering out of the taxi, she gazed +dubiously at the brownish-red stone steps and front of her home. + +"I'm going to have it painted," she muttered, as if to herself. + +Her aunt and her friends laughed, glad and relieved to hear such +a practical remark from Carley. How were they to divine that this +brownish-red stone was the color of desert rocks and canyon walls? + +In a few more moments Carley was inside the house, feeling a sense of +protection in the familiar rooms that had been her home for seventeen +years. Once in the sanctity of her room, which was exactly as she had +left it, her first action was to look in the mirror at her weary, dusty, +heated face. Neither the brownness of it nor the shadow appeared to +harmonize with the image of her that haunted the mirror. + +"Now!" she whispered low. "It's done. I'm home. The old life--or a new +life? How to meet either. Now!" + +Thus she challenged her spirit. And her intelligence rang at her the +imperative necessity for action, for excitement, for effort that left no +time for rest or memory or wakefulness. She accepted the issue. She was +glad of the stern fight ahead of her. She set her will and steeled her +heart with all the pride and vanity and fury of a woman who had been +defeated but who scorned defeat. She was what birth and breeding and +circumstance had made her. She would seek what the old life held. + +What with unpacking and chatting and telephoning and lunching, the day +soon passed. Carley went to dinner with friends and later to a +roof garden. The color and light, the gayety and music, the news +of acquaintances, the humor of the actors--all, in fact, except the +unaccustomed heat and noise, were most welcome and diverting. That night +she slept the sleep of weariness. + +Awakening early, she inaugurated a habit of getting up at once, instead +of lolling in bed, and breakfasting there, and reading her mail, as had +been her wont before going West. Then she went over business matters +with her aunt, called on her lawyer and banker, took lunch with Rose +Maynard, and spent the afternoon shopping. Strong as she was, the +unaccustomed heat and the hard pavements and the jostle of shoppers and +the continual rush of sensations wore her out so completely that she did +not want any dinner. She talked to her aunt a while, then went to bed. + +Next day Carley motored through Central Park, and out of town into +Westchester County, finding some relief from the stiffing heat. But she +seemed to look at the dusty trees and the worn greens without really +seeing them. In the afternoon she called on friends, and had dinner at +home with her aunt, and then went to a theatre. The musical comedy was +good, but the almost unbearable heat and the vitiated air spoiled her +enjoyment. That night upon arriving home at midnight she stepped out of +the taxi, and involuntarily, without thought, looked up to see the +stars. But there were no stars. A murky yellow-tinged blackness hung low +over the city. Carley recollected that stars, and sunrises and sunsets, +and untainted air, and silence were not for city dwellers. She checked +any continuation of the thought. + +A few days sufficed to swing her into the old life. Many of Carley's +friends had neither the leisure nor the means to go away from the city +during the summer. Some there were who might have afforded that if they +had seen fit to live in less showy apartments, or to dispense with +cars. Other of her best friends were on their summer outings in the +Adirondacks. Carley decided to go with her aunt to Lake Placid about the +first of August. Meanwhile she would keep going and doing. + +She had been a week in town before Morrison telephoned her and added +his welcome. Despite the gay gladness of his voice, it irritated her. +Really, she scarcely wanted to see him. But a meeting was inevitable, +and besides, going out with him was in accordance with the plan she had +adopted. So she made an engagement to meet him at the Plaza for dinner. +When with slow and pondering action she hung up the receiver it occurred +to her that she resented the idea of going to the Plaza. She did not +dwell on the reason why. + +When Carley went into the reception room of the Plaza that night +Morrison was waiting for her--the same slim, fastidious, elegant, +sallow-faced Morrison whose image she had in mind, yet somehow +different. He had what Carley called the New York masculine face, blase +and lined, with eyes that gleamed, yet had no fire. But at sight of her +his face lighted up. + +"By Jove! but you've come back a peach!" he exclaimed, clasping her +extended hand. "Eleanor told me you looked great. It's worth missing you +to see you like this." + +"Thanks, Larry," she replied. "I must look pretty well to win that +compliment from you. And how are you feeling? You don't seem robust for +a golfer and horseman. But then I'm used to husky Westerners." + +"Oh, I'm fagged with the daily grind," he said. "I'll be glad to get up +in the mountains next month. Let's go down to dinner." + +They descended the spiral stairway to the grillroom, where an orchestra +was playing jazz, and dancers gyrated on a polished floor, and diners in +evening dress looked on over their cigarettes. + +"Well, Carley, are you still finicky about the eats?" he queried, +consulting the menu. + +"No. But I prefer plain food," she replied. + +"Have a cigarette," he said, holding out his silver monogrammed case. + +"Thanks, Larry. I--I guess I'll not take up smoking again. You see, +while I was West I got out of the habit." + +"Yes, they told me you had changed," he returned. "How about drinking?" + +"Why, I thought New York had gone dry!" she said, forcing a laugh. + +"Only on the surface. Underneath it's wetter than ever." + +"Well, I'll obey the law." + +He ordered a rather elaborate dinner, and then turning his attention to +Carley, gave her closer scrutiny. Carley knew then that he had become +acquainted with the fact of her broken engagement. It was a relief not +to need to tell him. + +"How's that big stiff, Kilbourne?" asked Morrison, suddenly. "Is it true +he got well?" + +"Oh--yes! He's fine," replied Carley with eyes cast down. A hot knot +seemed to form deep within her and threatened to break and steal along +her veins. "But if you please--I do not care to talk of him." + +"Naturally. But I must tell you that one man's loss is another's gain." + +Carley had rather expected renewed courtship from Morrison. She had +not, however, been prepared for the beat of her pulse, the quiver of her +nerves, the uprising of hot resentment at the mere mention of Kilbourne. +It was only natural that Glenn's former rivals should speak of him, and +perhaps disparagingly. But from this man Carley could not bear even a +casual reference. Morrison had escaped the army service. He had been +given a high-salaried post at the ship-yards--the duties of which, if +there had been any, he performed wherever he happened to be. Morrison's +father had made a fortune in leather during the war. And Carley +remembered Glenn telling her he had seen two whole blocks in Paris +piled twenty feet deep with leather army goods that were never used and +probably had never been intended to be used. Morrison represented the +not inconsiderable number of young men in New York who had gained at +the expense of the valiant legion who had lost. But what had Morrison +gained? Carley raised her eyes to gaze steadily at him. He looked +well-fed, indolent, rich, effete, and supremely self-satisfied. She +could not see that he had gained anything. She would rather have been a +crippled ruined soldier. + +"Larry, I fear gain and loss are mere words," she said. "The thing that +counts with me is what you are." + +He stared in well-bred surprise, and presently talked of a new dance +which had lately come into vogue. And from that he passed on to gossip +of the theatres. Once between courses of the dinner he asked Carley to +dance, and she complied. The music would have stimulated an Egyptian +mummy, Carley thought, and the subdued rose lights, the murmur of gay +voices, the glide and grace and distortion of the dancers, were +exciting and pleasurable. Morrison had the suppleness and skill of a +dancing-master. But he held Carley too tightly, and so she told him, and +added, "I imbibed some fresh pure air while I was out West--something +you haven't here--and I don't want it all squeezed out of me." + + +The latter days of July Carley made busy--so busy that she lost her tan +and appetite, and something of her splendid resistance to the dragging +heat and late hours. Seldom was she without some of her friends. She +accepted almost any kind of an invitation, and went even to Coney +Island, to baseball games, to the motion pictures, which were three +forms of amusement not customary with her. At Coney Island, which she +visited with two of her younger girl friends, she had the best time +since her arrival home. What had put her in accord with ordinary people? +The baseball games, likewise pleased her. The running of the players and +the screaming of the spectators amused and excited her. But she hated +the motion pictures with their salacious and absurd misrepresentations +of life, in some cases capably acted by skillful actors, and in others a +silly series of scenes featuring some doll-faced girl. + +But she refused to go horseback riding in Central Park. She refused +to go to the Plaza. And these refusals she made deliberately, without +asking herself why. + +On August 1st she accompanied her aunt and several friends to Lake +Placid, where they established themselves at a hotel. How welcome to +Carley's strained eyes were the green of mountains, the soft gleam of +amber water! How sweet and refreshing a breath of cool pure air! The +change from New York's glare and heat and dirt, and iron-red insulating +walls, and thronging millions of people, and ceaseless roar and rush, +was tremendously relieving to Carley. She had burned the candle at both +ends. But the beauty of the hills and vales, the quiet of the forest, +the sight of the stars, made it harder to forget. She had to rest. And +when she rested she could not always converse, or read, or write. + +For the most part her days held variety and pleasure. The place was +beautiful, the weather pleasant, the people congenial. She motored over +the forest roads, she canoed along the margin of the lake, she played +golf and tennis. She wore exquisite gowns to dinner and danced during +the evenings. But she seldom walked anywhere on the trails and, never +alone, and she never climbed the mountains and never rode a horse. + +Morrison arrived and added his attentions to those of other men. Carley +neither accepted nor repelled them. She favored the association with +married couples and older people, and rather shunned the pairing off +peculiar to vacationists at summer hotels. She had always loved to play +and romp with children, but here she found herself growing to avoid +them, somehow hurt by sound of pattering feet and joyous laughter. She +filled the days as best she could, and usually earned quick slumber +at night. She staked all on present occupation and the truth of flying +time. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The latter part of September Carley returned to New York. + +Soon after her arrival she received by letter a formal proposal of +marriage from Elbert Harrington, who had been quietly attentive to +her during her sojourn at Lake Placid. He was a lawyer of distinction, +somewhat older than most of her friends, and a man of means and fine +family. Carley was quite surprised. Harrington was really one of the few +of her acquaintances whom she regarded as somewhat behind the times, and +liked him the better for that. But she could not marry him, and +replied to his letter in as kindly a manner as possible. Then he called +personally. + +"Carley, I've come to ask you to reconsider," he said, with a smile in +his gray eyes. He was not a tall or handsome man, but he had what women +called a nice strong face. + +"Elbert, you embarrass me," she replied, trying to laugh it out. "Indeed +I feel honored, and I thank you. But I can't marry you." + +"Why not?" he asked, quietly. + +"Because I don't love you," she replied. + +"I did not expect you to," he said. "I hoped in time you might come to +care. I've known you a good many years, Carley. Forgive me if I tell you +I see you are breaking--wearing yourself down. Maybe it is not a husband +you need so much now, but you do need a home and children. You are +wasting your life." + +"All you say may be true, my friend," replied Carley, with a helpless +little upflinging of hands. "Yet it does not alter my feelings." + +"But you will marry sooner or later?" he queried, persistently. + +This straightforward question struck Carley as singularly as if it was +one she might never have encountered. It forced her to think of things +she had buried. + +"I don't believe I ever will," she answered, thoughtfully. + +"That is nonsense, Carley," he went on. "You'll have to marry. What +else can you do? With all due respect to your feelings--that affair with +Kilbourne is ended--and you're not the wishy-washy heartbreak kind of a +girl." + +"You can never tell what a woman will do," she said, somewhat coldly. + +"Certainly not. That's why I refuse to take no. Carley, be reasonable. +You like me--respect me, do you not?" + +"Why, of course I do!" + +"I'm only thirty-five, and I could give you all any sensible woman +wants," he said. "Let's make a real American home. Have you thought at +all about that, Carley? Something is wrong today. Men are not marrying. +Wives are not having children. Of all the friends I have, not one has a +real American home. Why, it is a terrible fact! But, Carley, you are not +a sentimentalist, or a melancholiac. Nor are you a waster. You have fine +qualities. You need something to do, some one to care for." + +"Pray do not think me ungrateful, Elbert," she replied, "nor insensible +to the truth of what you say. But my answer is no!" + +When Harrington had gone Carley went to her room, and precisely as +upon her return from Arizona she faced her mirror skeptically and +relentlessly. "I am such a liar that I'll do well to look at myself," +she meditated. "Here I am again. Now! The world expects me to marry. But +what do I expect?" + +There was a raw unheated wound in Carley's heart. Seldom had she +permitted herself to think about it, let alone to probe it with hard +materialistic queries. But custom to her was as inexorable as life. If +she chose to live in the world she must conform to its customs. For +a woman marriage was the aim and the end and the all of existence. +Nevertheless, for Carley it could not be without love. Before she had +gone West she might have had many of the conventional modern ideas about +women and marriage. But because out there in the wilds her love and +perception had broadened, now her arraignment of herself and her sex +was bigger, sterner, more exacting. The months she had been home seemed +fuller than all the months of her life. She had tried to forget and +enjoy; she had not succeeded; but she had looked with far-seeing eyes at +her world. Glenn Kilbourne's tragic fate had opened her eyes. + +Either the world was all wrong or the people in it were. But if that +were an extravagant and erroneous supposition, there certainly was proof +positive that her own small individual world was wrong. The women +did not do any real work; they did not bear children; they lived on +excitement and luxury. They had no ideals. How greatly were men to +blame? Carley doubted her judgment here. But as men could not live +without the smiles and comradeship and love of women, it was only +natural that they should give the women what they wanted. Indeed, they +had no choice. It was give or go without. How much of real love entered +into the marriages among her acquaintances? Before marriage Carley +wanted a girl to be sweet, proud, aloof, with a heart of golden fire. +Not attainable except through love! It would be better that no children +be born at all unless born of such beautiful love. Perhaps that was +why so few children were born. Nature's balance and revenge! In Arizona +Carley had learned something of the ruthlessness and inevitableness +of nature. She was finding out she had learned this with many other +staggering facts. + +"I love Glenn still," she whispered, passionately, with trembling lips, +as she faced the tragic-eyed image of herself in the mirror. "I love him +more--more. Oh, my God! If I were honest I'd cry out the truth! It is +terrible. ... I will always love him. How then could I marry any other +man? I would be a lie, a cheat. If I could only forget him--only kill +that love. Then I might love another man--and if I did love him--no +matter what I had felt or done before, I would be worthy. I could feel +worthy. I could give him just as much. But without such love I'd give +only a husk--a body without soul." + +Love, then, was the sacred and holy flame of life that sanctioned the +begetting of children. Marriage might be a necessity of modern time, but +it was not the vital issue. Carley's anguish revealed strange and +hidden truths. In some inexplicable way Nature struck a terrible +balance--revenged herself upon a people who had no children, or who +brought into the world children not created by the divinity of love, +unyearned for, and therefore somehow doomed to carry on the blunders and +burdens of life. + +Carley realized how right and true it might be for her to throw herself +away upon an inferior man, even a fool or a knave, if she loved him with +that great and natural love of woman; likewise it dawned upon her how +false and wrong and sinful it would be to marry the greatest or the +richest or the noblest man unless she had that supreme love to give him, +and knew it was reciprocated. + +"What am I going to do with my life?" she asked, bitterly and aghast. +"I have been--I am a waster. I've lived for nothing but pleasurable +sensation. I'm utterly useless. I do absolutely no good on earth." + +Thus she saw how Harrington's words rang true--how they had precipitated +a crisis for which her unconscious brooding had long made preparation. + +"Why not give up ideals and be like the rest of my kind?" she +soliloquized. + +That was one of the things which seemed wrong with modern life. She +thrust the thought from her with passionate scorn. If poor, broken, +ruined Glenn Kilbourne could cling to an ideal and fight for it, could +not she, who had all the world esteemed worth while, be woman enough to +do the same? The direction of her thought seemed to have changed. She +had been ready for rebellion. Three months of the old life had shown +her that for her it was empty, vain, farcical, without one redeeming +feature. The naked truth was brutal, but it cut clean to wholesome +consciousness. Such so-called social life as she had plunged into +deliberately to forget her unhappiness had failed her utterly. If she +had been shallow and frivolous it might have done otherwise. Stripped +of all guise, her actions must have been construed by a penetrating +and impartial judge as a mere parading of her decorated person before a +number of males with the purpose of ultimate selection. + +"I've got to find some work," she muttered, soberly. + +At the moment she heard the postman's whistle outside; and a little +later the servant brought up her mail. The first letter, large, soiled, +thick, bore the postmark Flagstaff, and her address in Glenn Kilbourne's +writing. + +Carley stared at it. Her heart gave a great leap. Her hand shook. She +sat down suddenly as if the strength of her legs was inadequate to +uphold her. + +"Glenn has--written me!" she whispered, in slow, halting realization. +"For what? Oh, why?" + +The other letters fell off her lap, to lie unnoticed. This big thick +envelope fascinated her. It was one of the stamped envelopes she had +seen in his cabin. It contained a letter that had been written on his +rude table, before the open fire, in the light of the doorway, in that +little log-cabin under the spreading pines of West Ford Canyon. Dared +she read it? The shock to her heart passed; and with mounting swell, +seemingly too full for her breast, it began to beat and throb a wild +gladness through all her being. She tore the envelope apart and read: + + +DEAR CARLEY: + +I'm surely glad for a good excuse to write you. + +Once in a blue moon I get a letter, and today Hutter brought me one +from a soldier pard of mine who was with me in the Argonne. His name is +Virgil Rust--queer name, don't you think?--and he's from Wisconsin. Just +a rough-diamond sort of chap, but fairly well educated. He and I were +in some pretty hot places, and it was he who pulled me out of a shell +crater. I'd "gone west" sure then if it hadn't been for Rust. + +Well, he did all sorts of big things during the war. Was down several +times with wounds. He liked to fight and he was a holy terror. We all +thought he'd get medals and promotion. But he didn't get either. These +much-desired things did not always go where they were best deserved. + +Rust is now lying in a hospital in Bedford Park. His letter is pretty +blue. All he says about why he's there is that he's knocked out. But he +wrote a heap about his girl. It seems he was in love with a girl in his +home town--a pretty, big-eyed lass whose picture I've seen--and while +he was overseas she married one of the chaps who got out of fighting. +Evidently Rust is deeply hurt. He wrote: "I'd not care so... if she'd +thrown me down to marry an old man or a boy who couldn't have gone to +war." You see, Carley, service men feel queer about that sort of thing. +It's something we got over there, and none of us will ever outlive it. +Now, the point of this is that I am asking you to go see Rust, and cheer +him up, and do what you can for the poor devil. It's a good deal to +ask of you, I know, especially as Rust saw your picture many a time and +knows you were my girl. But you needn't tell him that you--we couldn't +make a go of it. + +And, as I am writing this to you, I see no reason why I shouldn't go on +in behalf of myself. + +The fact is, Carley, I miss writing to you more than I miss anything +of my old life. I'll bet you have a trunkful of letters from me--unless +you've destroyed them. I'm not going to say how I miss your letters. But +I will say you wrote the most charming and fascinating letters of anyone +I ever knew, quite aside from any sentiment. You knew, of course, that +I had no other girl correspondent. Well, I got along fairly well before +you came West, but I'd be an awful liar if I denied I didn't get lonely +for you and your letters. It's different now that you've been to Oak +Creek. I'm alone most of the time and I dream a lot, and I'm afraid I +see you here in my cabin, and along the brook, and under the pines, and +riding Calico--which you came to do well--and on my hogpen fence--and, +oh, everywhere! I don't want you to think I'm down in the mouth, for +I'm not. I'll take my medicine. But, Carley, you spoiled me, and I miss +hearing from you, and I don't see why it wouldn't be all right for you +to send me a friendly letter occasionally. + +It is autumn now. I wish you could see Arizona canyons in their gorgeous +colors. We have had frost right along and the mornings are great. +There's a broad zigzag belt of gold halfway up the San Francisco peaks, +and that is the aspen thickets taking on their fall coat. Here in the +canyon you'd think there was blazing fire everywhere. The vines and +the maples are red, scarlet, carmine, cerise, magenta, all the hues of +flame. The oak leaves are turning russet gold, and the sycamores are +yellow green. Up on the desert the other day I rode across a patch of +asters, lilac and lavender, almost purple. I had to get off and pluck a +handful. And then what do you think? I dug up the whole bunch, roots and +all, and planted them on the sunny side of my cabin. I rather guess your +love of flowers engendered this remarkable susceptibility in me. + +I'm home early most every afternoon now, and I like the couple of hours +loafing around. Guess it's bad for me, though. You know I seldom hunt, +and the trout in the pool here are so tame now they'll almost eat out of +my hand. I haven't the heart to fish for them. The squirrels, too, have +grown tame and friendly. There's a red squirrel that climbs up on my +table. And there's a chipmunk who lives in my cabin and runs over my +bed. I've a new pet--the little pig you christened Pinky. After he had +the wonderful good fortune to be caressed and named by you I couldn't +think of letting him grow up in an ordinary piglike manner. So I fetched +him home. My dog, Moze, was jealous at first and did not like this +intrusion, but now they are good friends and sleep together. Flo has a +kitten she's going to give me, and then, as Hutter says, I'll be "Jake." + +My occupation during these leisure hours perhaps would strike my old +friends East as idle, silly, mawkish. But I believe you will understand +me. + +I have the pleasure of doing nothing, and of catching now and then +a glimpse of supreme joy in the strange state of thinking nothing. +Tennyson came close to this in his "Lotus Eaters." Only to see--only to +feel is enough! + +Sprawled on the warm sweet pine needles, I breathe through them the +breath of the earth and am somehow no longer lonely. I cannot, of +course, see the sunset, but I watch for its coming on the eastern wall +of the canyon. I see the shadow slowly creep up, driving the gold before +it, until at last the canyon rim and pines are turned to golden fire. +I watch the sailing eagles as they streak across the gold, and swoop up +into the blue, and pass out of sight. I watch the golden flush fade to +gray, and then, the canyon slowly fills with purple shadows. This hour +of twilight is the silent and melancholy one. Seldom is there any sound +save the soft rush of the water over the stones, and that seems to die +away. For a moment, perhaps, I am Hiawatha alone in his forest home, +or a more primitive savage, feeling the great, silent pulse of nature, +happy in unconsciousness, like a beast of the wild. But only for an +instant do I ever catch this fleeting state. Next I am Glenn Kilbourne +of West Fork, doomed and haunted by memories of the past. The great +looming walls then become no longer blank. They are vast pages of the +history of my life, with its past and present, and, alas! its future. +Everything time does is written on the stones. And my stream seems to +murmur the sad and ceaseless flow of human life, with its music and its +misery. + +Then, descending from the sublime to the humdrum and necessary, I heave +a sigh, and pull myself together, and go in to make biscuits and fry +ham. But I should not forget to tell you that before I do go in, very +often my looming, wonderful walls and crags weave in strange shadowy +characters the beautiful and unforgettable face of Carley Burch! + +I append what little news Oak Creek affords. + +That blamed old bald eagle stole another of my pigs. + +I am doing so well with my hog-raising that Hutter wants to come in with +me, giving me an interest in his sheep. + +It is rumored some one has bought the Deep Lake section I wanted for a +ranch. I don't know who. Hutter was rather noncommittal. + +Charley, the herder, had one of his queer spells the other day, and +swore to me he had a letter from you. He told the blamed lie with a +sincere and placid eye, and even a smile of pride. Queer guy, that +Charley! + +Flo and Lee Stanton had another quarrel--the worst yet, Lee tells me. +Flo asked a girl friend out from Flag and threw her in Lee's way, so to +speak, and when Lee retaliated by making love to the girl Flo got mad. +Funny creatures, you girls! Flo rode with me from High Falls to West +Fork, and never showed the slightest sign of trouble. In fact she was +delightfully gay. She rode Calico, and beat me bad in a race. + +Adios, Carley. Won't you write me? + +GLENN. + + +No sooner had Carley read the letter through to the end than she +began it all over again, and on this second perusal she lingered over +passages--only to reread them. That suggestion of her face sculptured by +shadows on the canyon walls seemed to thrill her very soul. + +She leaped up from the reading to cry out something that was +unutterable. All the intervening weeks of shame and anguish and fury and +strife and pathos, and the endless striving to forget, were as if by the +magic of a letter made nothing but vain oblations. + +"He loves me still!" she whispered, and pressed her breast with +clenching hands, and laughed in wild exultance, and paced her room like +a caged lioness. It was as if she had just awakened to the assurance she +was beloved. That was the shibboleth--the cry by which she sounded the +closed depths of her love and called to the stricken life of a woman's +insatiate vanity. + +Then she snatched up the letter, to scan it again, and, suddenly +grasping the import of Glenn's request, she hurried to the telephone to +find the number of the hospital in Bedford Park. A nurse informed her +that visitors were received at certain hours and that any attention to +disabled soldiers was most welcome. + +Carley motored out there to find the hospital merely a long one-story +frame structure, a barracks hastily thrown up for the care of invalided +men of the service. The chauffeur informed her that it had been used +for that purpose during the training period of the army, and later when +injured soldiers began to arrive from France. + +A nurse admitted Carley into a small bare anteroom. Carley made known +her errand. + +"I'm glad it's Rust you want to see," replied the nurse. "Some of these +boys are going to die. And some will be worse off if they live. But Rust +may get well if he'll only behave. You are a relative--or friend?" + +"I don't know him," answered Carley. "But I have a friend who was with +him in France." + +The nurse led Carley into a long narrow room with a line of single beds +down each side, a stove at each end, and a few chairs. Each bed appeared +to have an occupant and those nearest Carley lay singularly quiet. At +the far end of the room were soldiers on crutches, wearing bandages +on their beads, carrying their arms in slings. Their merry voices +contrasted discordantly with their sad appearance. + +Presently Carley stood beside a bed and looked down upon a gaunt, +haggard young man who lay propped up on pillows. + +"Rust--a lady to see you," announced the nurse. + +Carley had difficulty in introducing herself. Had Glenn ever looked +like this? What a face! It's healed scar only emphasized the pallor +and furrows of pain that assuredly came from present wounds. He had +unnaturally bright dark eyes, and a flush of fever in his hollow cheeks. + +"How do!" he said, with a wan smile. "Who're you?" + +"I'm Glenn Kilbourne's fiancee," she replied, holding out her hand. + +"Say, I ought to've known you," he said, eagerly, and a warmth of light +changed the gray shade of his face. "You're the girl Carley! You're +almost like my--my own girl. By golly! You're some looker! It was good +of you to come. Tell me about Glenn." + +Carley took the chair brought by the nurse, and pulling it close to the +bed, she smiled down upon him and said: "I'll be glad to tell you all I +know--presently. But first you tell me about yourself. Are you in pain? +What is your trouble? You must let me do everything I can for you, and +these other men." + +Carley spent a poignant and depth-stirring hour at the bedside of +Glenn's comrade. At last she learned from loyal lips the nature of Glenn +Kilbourne's service to his country. How Carley clasped to her sore +heart the praise of the man she loved--the simple proofs of his noble +disregard of self! Rust said little about his own service to country or +to comrade. But Carley saw enough in his face. He had been like Glenn. +By these two Carley grasped the compelling truth of the spirit and +sacrifice of the legion of boys who had upheld American traditions. +Their children and their children's children, as the years rolled by +into the future, would hold their heads higher and prouder. Some things +could never die in the hearts and the blood of a race. These boys, and +the girls who had the supreme glory of being loved by them, must be +the ones to revive the Americanism of their forefathers. Nature and God +would take care of the slackers, the cowards who cloaked their shame +with bland excuses of home service, of disability, and of dependence. + +Carley saw two forces in life--the destructive and constructive. On +the one side greed, selfishness, materialism: on the other generosity, +sacrifice, and idealism. Which of them builded for the future? She saw +men as wolves, sharks, snakes, vermin, and opposed to them men as lions +and eagles. She saw women who did not inspire men to fare forth to seek, +to imagine, to dream, to hope, to work, to fight. She began to have a +glimmering of what a woman might be. + + +That night she wrote swiftly and feverishly, page after page, to Glenn, +only to destroy what she had written. She could not keep her heart out +of her words, nor a hint of what was becoming a sleepless and eternal +regret. She wrote until a late hour, and at last composed a letter she +knew did not ring true, so stilted and restrained was it in all passages +save those concerning news of Glenn's comrade and of her own friends. +"I'll never--never write him again," she averred with stiff lips, and +next moment could have laughed in mockery at the bitter truth. If she +had ever had any courage, Glenn's letter had destroyed it. But had it +not been a kind of selfish, false courage, roused to hide her hurt, to +save her own future? Courage should have a thought of others. Yet shamed +one moment at the consciousness she would write Glenn again and again, +and exultant the next with the clamouring love, she seemed to have +climbed beyond the self that had striven to forget. She would remember +and think though she died of longing. + +Carley, like a drowning woman, caught at straws. What a relief and joy +to give up that endless nagging at her mind! For months she had kept +ceaselessly active, by associations which were of no help to her and +which did not make her happy, in her determination to forget. Suddenly +then she gave up to remembrance. She would cease trying to get over her +love for Glenn, and think of him and dream about him as much as memory +dictated. This must constitute the only happiness she could have. + +The change from strife to surrender was so novel and sweet that for +days she felt renewed. It was augmented by her visits to the hospital +in Bedford Park. Through her bountiful presence Virgil Rust and his +comrades had many dull hours of pain and weariness alleviated and +brightened. Interesting herself in the condition of the seriously +disabled soldiers and possibility of their future took time and work +Carley gave willingly and gladly. At first she endeavored to get +acquaintances with means and leisure to help the boys, but these +overtures met with such little success that she quit wasting valuable +time she could herself devote to their interests. + +Thus several weeks swiftly passed by. Several soldiers who had been +more seriously injured than Rust improved to the extent that they were +discharged. But Rust gained little or nothing. The nurse and doctor both +informed Carley that Rust brightened for her, but when she was gone he +lapsed into somber indifference. He did not care whether he ate or not, +or whether he got well or died. + +"If I do pull out, where'll I go and what'll I do?" he once asked the +nurse. + +Carley knew that Rust's hurt was more than loss of a leg, and she +decided to talk earnestly to him and try to win him to hope and effort. +He had come to have a sort of reverence for her. So, biding her time, +she at length found opportunity to approach his bed while his comrades +were asleep or out of hearing. He endeavored to laugh her off, and then +tried subterfuge, and lastly he cast off his mask and let her see his +naked soul. + +"Carley, I don't want your money or that of your kind friends--whoever +they are--you say will help me to get into business," he said. +"God knows I thank you and it warms me inside to find some one who +appreciates what I've given. But I don't want charity.... And I guess +I'm pretty sick of the game. I'm sorry the Boches didn't do the job +right." + +"Rust, that is morbid talk," replied Carley. "You're ill and you just +can't see any hope. You must cheer up--fight yourself; and look at the +brighter side. It's a horrible pity you must be a cripple, but Rust, +indeed life can be worth living if you make it so." + +"How could there be a brighter side when a man's only half a man--" he +queried, bitterly. + +"You can be just as much a man as ever," persisted Carley, trying to +smile when she wanted to cry. + +"Could you care for a man with only one leg?" he asked, deliberately. + +"What a question! Why, of course I could!" + +"Well, maybe you are different. Glenn always swore even if he was killed +no slacker or no rich guy left at home could ever get you. Maybe you +haven't any idea how much it means to us fellows to know there are +true and faithful girls. But I'll tell you, Carley, we fellows who went +across got to see things strange when we came home. The good old U. S. +needs a lot of faithful girls just now, believe me." + +"Indeed that's true," replied Carley. "It's a hard time for everybody, +and particularly you boys who have lost so--so much." + +"I lost all, except my life--and I wish to God I'd lost that," he +replied, gloomily. + +"Oh, don't talk so!" implored Carley in distress. "Forgive me, Rust, if +I hurt you. But I must tell you--that--that Glenn wrote me--you'd lost +your girl. Oh, I'm sorry! It is dreadful for you now. But if you got +well--and went to work--and took up life where you left it--why soon +your pain would grow easier. And you'd find some happiness yet." + +"Never for me in this world." + +"But why, Rust, why? You're no--no--Oh! I mean you have intelligence and +courage. Why isn't there anything left for you?" + +"Because something here's been killed," he replied, and put his hand to +his heart. + +"Your faith? Your love of--of everything? Did the war kill it?" + +"I'd gotten over that, maybe," he said, drearily, with his somber eyes +on space that seemed lettered for him. "But she half murdered it--and +they did the rest." + +"They? Whom do you mean, Rust?" + +"Why, Carley, I mean the people I lost my leg for!" he replied, with +terrible softness. + +"The British? The French?" she queried, in bewilderment. + +"No!" he cried, and turned his face to the wall. + +Carley dared not ask him more. She was shocked. How helplessly impotent +all her earnest sympathy! No longer could she feel an impersonal, +however kindly, interest in this man. His last ringing word had linked +her also to his misfortune and his suffering. Suddenly he turned away +from the wall. She saw him swallow laboriously. How tragic that thin, +shadowed face of agony! Carley saw it differently. But for the beautiful +softness of light in his eyes, she would have been unable to endure +gazing longer. + +"Carley, I'm bitter," he said, "but I'm not rancorous and callous, like +some of the boys. I know if you'd been my girl you'd have stuck to me." + +"Yes," Carley whispered. + +"That makes a difference," he went on, with a sad smile. "You see, we +soldiers all had feelings. And in one thing we all felt alike. That was +we were going to fight for our homes and our women. I should say women +first. No matter what we read or heard about standing by our allies, +fighting for liberty or civilization, the truth was we all felt the +same, even if we never breathed it.... Glenn fought for you. I fought +for Nell.... We were not going to let the Huns treat you as they treated +French and Belgian girls.... And think! Nell was engaged to me--she +loved me--and, by God! She married a slacker when I lay half dead on the +battlefield!" + +"She was not worth loving or fighting for," said Carley, with agitation. + +"Ah! now you've said something," he declared. "If I can only hold to +that truth! What does one girl amount to? I do not count. It is the sum +that counts. We love America--our homes--our women!... Carley, I've had +comfort and strength come to me through you. Glenn will have his reward +in your love. Somehow I seem to share it, a little. Poor Glenn! He got +his, too. Why, Carley, that guy wouldn't let you do what he could do for +you. He was cut to pieces--" + +"Please--Rust--don't say any more. I am unstrung," she pleaded. + +"Why not? It's due you to know how splendid Glenn was.... I tell you, +Carley, all the boys here love you for the way you've stuck to Glenn. +Some of them knew him, and I've told the rest. We thought he'd never +pull through. But he has, and we know how you helped. Going West to see +him! He didn't write it to me, but I know.... I'm wise. I'm happy for +him--the lucky dog. Next time you go West--" + +"Hush!" cried Carley. She could endure no more. She could no longer be a +lie. + +"You're white--you're shaking," exclaimed Rust, in concern. "Oh, I--what +did I say? Forgive me--" + +"Rust, I am no more worth loving and fighting for than your Nell." + +"What!" he ejaculated. + +"I have not told you the truth," she said, swiftly. "I have let you +believe a lie.... I shall never marry Glenn. I broke my engagement to +him." + +Slowly Rust sank back upon the pillow, his large luminous eyes +piercingly fixed upon her, as if he would read her soul. + +"I went West--yes--" continued Carley. "But it was selfishly. I wanted +Glenn to come back here.... He had suffered as you have. He nearly died. +But he fought--he fought--Oh! he went through hell! And after a long, +slow, horrible struggle he began to mend. He worked. He went to raising +hogs. He lived alone. He worked harder and harder.... The West and his +work saved him, body and soul.... He had learned to love both the West +and his work. I did not blame him. But I could not live out there. He +needed me. But I was too little--too selfish. I could not marry him. I +gave him up. ... I left--him--alone!" + +Carley shrank under the scorn in Rust's eyes. + +"And there's another man," he said, "a clean, straight, unscarred fellow +who wouldn't fight!" + +"Oh, no--I--I swear there's not," whispered Carley. + +"You, too," he replied, thickly. Then slowly he turned that worn dark +face to the wall. His frail breast heaved. And his lean hand made her a +slight gesture of dismissal, significant and imperious. + +Carley fled. She could scarcely see to find the car. All her internal +being seemed convulsed, and a deadly faintness made her sick and cold. + + + +CHAPTER X + +Carley's edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in +ruins about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal for +foundation. It had to fall. + +Something inevitable had forced her confession to Rust. Dissimulation +had been a habit of her mind; it was more a habit of her class than +sincerity. But she had reached a point in her mental strife where +she could not stand before Rust and let him believe she was noble and +faithful when she knew she was neither. Would not the next step in +this painful metamorphosis of her character be a fierce and passionate +repudiation of herself and all she represented? + +She went home and locked herself in her room, deaf to telephone and +servants. There she gave up to her shame. Scorned--despised--dismissed +by that poor crippled flame-spirited Virgil Rust! He had reverenced +her, and the truth had earned his hate. Would she ever forget his +look--incredulous--shocked--bitter--and blazing with unutterable +contempt? Carley Burch was only another Nell--a jilt--a mocker of the +manhood of soldiers! Would she ever cease to shudder at memory of Rust's +slight movement of hand? Go! Get out of my sight! Leave me to my agony +as you left Glenn Kilbourne alone to fight his! Men such as I am do +not want the smile of your face, the touch of your hand! We gave for +womanhood! Pass on to lesser men who loved the fleshpots and who would +buy your charms! So Carley interpreted that slight gesture, and writhed +in her abasement. + +Rust threw a white, illuminating light upon her desertion of Glenn. She +had betrayed him. She had left him alone. Dwarfed and stunted was +her narrow soul! To a man who had given all for her she had returned +nothing. Stone for bread! Betrayal for love! Cowardice for courage! + +The hours of contending passions gave birth to vague, slow-forming +revolt. + +She became haunted by memory pictures and sounds and smells of Oak Creek +Canyon. As from afar she saw the great sculptured rent in the earth, +green and red and brown, with its shining, flashing ribbons of +waterfalls and streams. The mighty pines stood up magnificent and +stately. The walls loomed high, shadowed under the shelves, gleaming in +the sunlight, and they seemed dreaming, waiting, watching. For what? For +her return to their serene fastnesses--to the little gray log cabin. The +thought stormed Carley's soul. + +Vivid and intense shone the images before her shut eyes. She saw the +winding forest floor, green with grass and fern, colorful with flower +and rock. A thousand aisles, glades, nooks, and caverns called her +to come. Nature was every woman's mother. The populated city was a +delusion. Disease and death and corruption stalked in the shadows of +the streets. But her canyon promised hard work, playful hours, dreaming +idleness, beauty, health, fragrance, loneliness, peace, wisdom, love, +children, and long life. In the hateful shut-in isolation of her room +Carley stretched forth her arms as if to embrace the vision. Pale close +walls, gleaming placid stretches of brook, churning amber and white +rapids, mossy banks and pine-matted ledges, the towers and turrets and +ramparts where the eagles wheeled--she saw them all as beloved images +lost to her save in anguished memory. + +She heard the murmur of flowing water, soft, low, now loud, and again +lulling, hollow and eager, tinkling over rocks, bellowing into the deep +pools, washing with silky seep of wind-swept waves the hanging willows. +Shrill and piercing and far-aloft pealed the scream of the eagle. And +she seemed to listen to a mocking bird while he mocked her with his +melody of many birds. The bees hummed, the wind moaned, the leaves +rustled, the waterfall murmured. Then came the sharp rare note of a +canyon swift, most mysterious of birds, significant of the heights. + +A breath of fragrance seemed to blow with her shifting senses. The dry, +sweet, tangy canyon smells returned to her--of fresh-cut timber, of wood +smoke, of the cabin fire with its steaming pots, of flowers and earth, +and of the wet stones, of the redolent pines and the pungent cedars. + +And suddenly, clearly, amazingly, Carley beheld in her mind's sight the +hard features, the bold eyes, the slight smile, the coarse face of Haze +Ruff. She had forgotten him. But he now returned. And with memory of +him flashed a revelation as to his meaning in her life. He had appeared +merely a clout, a ruffian, an animal with man's shape and intelligence. +But he was the embodiment of the raw, crude violence of the West. He +was the eyes of the natural primitive man, believing what he saw. He had +seen in Carley Burch the paraded charm, the unashamed and serene front, +the woman seeking man. Haze Ruff had been neither vile nor base nor +unnatural. It had been her subjection to the decadence of feminine dress +that had been unnatural. But Ruff had found her a lie. She invited what +she did not want. And his scorn had been commensurate with the falsehood +of her. So might any man have been justified in his insult to her, in +his rejection of her. Haze Ruff had found her unfit for his idea of +dalliance. Virgil Rust had found her false to the ideals of womanhood +for which he had sacrificed all but life itself. What then had Glenn +Kilbourne found her? He possessed the greatness of noble love. He had +loved her before the dark and changeful tide of war had come between +them. How had he judged her? That last sight of him standing alone, +leaning with head bowed, a solitary figure trenchant with suggestion of +tragic resignation and strength, returned to flay Carley. He had loved, +trusted, and hoped. She saw now what his hope had been--that she would +have instilled into her blood the subtle, red, and revivifying essence +of calling life in the open, the strength of the wives of earlier +years, an emanation from canyon, desert, mountain, forest, of health, +of spirit, of forward-gazing natural love, of the mysterious saving +instinct he had gotten out of the West. And she had been too little +too steeped in the indulgence of luxurious life too slight-natured +and pale-blooded! And suddenly there pierced into the black storm of +Carley's mind a blazing, white-streaked thought--she had left Glenn to +the Western girl, Flo Hutter. Humiliated, and abased in her own sight, +Carley fell prey to a fury of jealousy. + +She went back to the old life. But it was in a bitter, restless, +critical spirit, conscious of the fact that she could derive neither +forgetfulness nor pleasure from it, nor see any release from the habit +of years. + +One afternoon, late in the fall, she motored out to a Long Island club +where the last of the season's golf was being enjoyed by some of her +most intimate friends. Carley did not play. Aimlessly she walked around +the grounds, finding the autumn colors subdued and drab, like her mind. +The air held a promise of early winter. She thought that she would go +South before the cold came. Always trying to escape anything rigorous, +hard, painful, or disagreeable! Later she returned to the clubhouse to +find her party assembled on an inclosed porch, chatting and partaking +of refreshment. Morrison was there. He had not taken kindly to her late +habit of denying herself to him. + +During a lull in the idle conversation Morrison addressed Carley +pointedly. "Well, Carley, how's your Arizona hog-raiser?" he queried, +with a little gleam in his usually lusterless eyes. + +"I have not heard lately," she replied, coldly. + +The assembled company suddenly quieted with a portent inimical to their +leisurely content of the moment. Carley felt them all looking at her, +and underneath the exterior she preserved with extreme difficulty, there +burned so fierce an anger that she seemed to have swelling veins of +fire. + +"Queer how Kilbourne went into raising hogs," observed Morrison. "Such a +low-down sort of work, you know." + +"He had no choice," replied Carley. "Glenn didn't have a father who made +tainted millions out of the war. He had to work. And I must differ with +you about its being low-down. No honest work is that. It is idleness +that is low down." + +"But so foolish of Glenn when he might have married money," rejoined +Morrison, sarcastcally. + +"The honor of soldiers is beyond your ken, Mr. Morrison." + +He flushed darkly and bit his lip. + +"You women make a man sick with this rot about soldiers," he said, the +gleam in his eye growing ugly. "A uniform goes to a woman's head +no matter what's inside it. I don't see where your vaunted honor of +soldiers comes in considering how they accepted the let-down of women +during and after the war." + +"How could you see when you stayed comfortably at home?" retorted +Carley. + +"All I could see was women falling into soldiers' arms," he said, +sullenly. + +"Certainly. Could an American girl desire any greater happiness--or +opportunity to prove her gratitude?" flashed Carley, with proud uplift +of head. + +"It didn't look like gratitude to me," returned Morrison. + +"Well, it was gratitude," declared Carley, ringingly. "If women of +America did throw themselves at soldiers it was not owing to the moral +lapse of the day. It was woman's instinct to save the race! Always, in +every war, women have sacrificed themselves to the future. Not vile, +but noble!... You insult both soldiers and women, Mr. Morrison. I +wonder--did any American girls throw themselves at you?" + +Morrison turned a dead white, and his mouth twisted to a distorted +checking of speech, disagreeable to see. + +"No, you were a slacker," went on Carley, with scathing scorn. "You let +the other men go fight for American girls. Do you imagine one of them +will ever marry you?... All your life, Mr. Morrison, you will be a +marked man--outside the pale of friendship with real American men and +the respect of real American girls." + +Morrison leaped up, almost knocking the table over, and he glared at +Carley as he gathered up his hat and cane. She turned her back upon him. +From that moment he ceased to exist for Carley. She never spoke to him +again. + + +Next day Carley called upon her dearest friend, whom she had not seen +for some time. + +"Carley dear, you don't look so very well," said Eleanor, after +greetings had been exchanged. + +"Oh, what does it matter how I look?" queried Carley, impatiently. + +"You were so wonderful when you got home from Arizona." + +"If I was wonderful and am now commonplace you can thank your old New +York for it." + +"Carley, don't you care for New York any more?" asked Eleanor. + +"Oh, New York is all right, I suppose. It's I who am wrong." + +"My dear, you puzzle me these days. You've changed. I'm sorry. I'm +afraid you're unhappy." + +"Me? Oh, impossible! I'm in a seventh heaven," replied Carley, with +a hard little laugh. "What 're you doing this afternoon? Let's go +out--riding--or somewhere." + +"I'm expecting the dressmaker." + +"Where are you going to-night?" + +"Dinner and theater. It's a party, or I'd ask you." + +"What did you do yesterday and the day before, and the days before +that?" + +Eleanor laughed indulgently, and acquainted Carley with a record of her +social wanderings during the last few days. + +"The same old things--over and over again! Eleanor don't you get sick of +it?" queried Carley. + +"Oh yes, to tell the truth," returned Eleanor, thoughtfully. "But +there's nothing else to do." + +"Eleanor, I'm no better than you," said Carley, with disdain. "I'm as +useless and idle. But I'm beginning to see myself--and you--and all this +rotten crowd of ours. We're no good. But you're married, Eleanor. You're +settled in life. You ought to do something. I'm single and at loose +ends. Oh, I'm in revolt!... Think, Eleanor, just think. Your husband +works hard to keep you in this expensive apartment. You have a car. +He dresses you in silks and satins. You wear diamonds. You eat your +breakfast in bed. You loll around in a pink dressing gown all morning. +You dress for lunch or tea. You ride or golf or worse than waste your +time on some lounge lizard, dancing till time to come home to dress +for dinner. You let other men make love to you. Oh, don't get sore. You +do.... And so goes the round of your life. What good on earth are you, +anyhow? You're just a--a gratification to the senses of your husband. +And at that you don't see much of him." + +"Carley, how you rave!" exclaimed her friend. "What has gotten into +you lately? Why, everybody tells me you're--you're queer! The way you +insulted Morrison--how unlike you, Carley!" + +"I'm glad I found the nerve to do it. What do you think, Eleanor?" + +"Oh, I despise him. But you can't say the things you feel." + +"You'd be bigger and truer if you did. Some day I'll break out and flay +you and your friends alive." + +"But, Carley, you're my friend and you're just exactly like we are. Or +you were, quite recently." + +"Of course, I'm your friend. I've always loved you, Eleanor," went on +Carley, earnestly. "I'm as deep in this--this damned stagnant muck as +you, or anyone. But I'm no longer blind. There's something terribly +wrong with us women, and it's not what Morrison hinted." + +"Carley, the only thing wrong with you is that you jilted poor +Glenn--and are breaking your heart over him still." + +"Don't--don't!" cried Carley, shrinking. "God knows that is true. But +there's more wrong with me than a blighted love affair." + +"Yes, you mean the modern feminine unrest?" + +"Eleanor, I positively hate that phrase 'modern feminine unrest!' It +smacks of ultra--ultra--Oh! I don't know what. That phrase ought to be +translated by a Western acquaintance of mine--one Haze Ruff. I'd not +like to hurt your sensitive feelings with what he'd say. But this unrest +means speed-mad, excitement-mad, fad-mad, dress-mad, or I should say +undress-mad, culture-mad, and Heaven only knows what else. The women of +our set are idle, luxurious, selfish, pleasure-craving, lazy, useless, +work-and-children shirking, absolutely no good." + +"Well, if we are, who's to blame?" rejoined Eleanor, spiritedly. "Now, +Carley Burch, you listen to me. I think the twentieth-century girl in +America is the most wonderful female creation of all the ages of the +universe. I admit it. That is why we are a prey to the evils attending +greatness. Listen. Here is a crying sin--an infernal paradox. Take this +twentieth-century girl, this American girl who is the finest creation +of the ages. A young and healthy girl, the most perfect type of culture +possible to the freest and greatest city on earth--New York! She holds +absolutely an unreal, untrue position in the scheme of existence. +Surrounded by parents, relatives, friends, suitors, and instructive +schools of every kind, colleges, institutions, is she really happy, is +she really living?" + +"Eleanor," interrupted Carley, earnestly, "she is not.... And I've been +trying to tell you why." + +"My dear, let me get a word in, will you," complained Eleanor. "You +don't know it all. There are as many different points of view as there +are people.... Well, if this girl happened to have a new frock, and a +new beau to show it to, she'd say, 'I'm the happiest girl in the +world.' But she is nothing of the kind. Only she doesn't know that. She +approaches marriage, or, for that matter, a more matured life, having +had too much, having been too well taken care of, knowing too much. Her +masculine satellites--father, brothers, uncles, friends, lovers--all +utterly spoil her. Mind you, I mean, girls like us, of the middle +class--which is to say the largest and best class of Americans. We are +spoiled.... This girl marries. And life goes on smoothly, as if its aim +was to exclude friction and effort. Her husband makes it too easy for +her. She is an ornament, or a toy, to be kept in a luxurious cage. To +soil her pretty hands would be disgraceful! Even if she can't afford +a maid, the modern devices of science make the care of her four-room +apartment a farce. Electric dish-washer, clothes-washer, vacuum-cleaner, +and the near-by delicatessen and the caterer simply rob a young wife of +her housewifely heritage. If she has a baby--which happens occasionally, +Carley, in spite of your assertion--it very soon goes to the +kindergarten. Then what does she find to do with hours and hours? If she +is not married, what on earth can she find to do?" + +"She can work," replied Carley, bluntly. + +"Oh yes, she can, but she doesn't," went on Eleanor. "You don't work. I +never did. We both hated the idea. You're calling spades spades, Carley, +but you seem to be riding a morbid, impractical thesis. Well, our young +American girl or bride goes in for being rushed or she goes in for fads, +the ultra stuff you mentioned. New York City gets all the great artists, +lecturers, and surely the great fakirs. The New York women support them. +The men laugh, but they furnish the money. They take the women to the +theaters, but they cut out the reception to a Polish princess, a lecture +by an Indian magician and mystic, or a benefit luncheon for a Home for +Friendless Cats. The truth is most of our young girls or brides have +a wonderful enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. What is to become of +their surplus energy, the bottled-lightning spirit so characteristic +of modern girls? Where is the outlet for intense feelings? What use can +they make of education or of gifts? They just can't, that's all. I'm +not taking into consideration the new-woman species, the faddist or the +reformer. I mean normal girls like you and me. Just think, Carley. A +girl's every wish, every need, is almost instantly satisfied without the +slightest effort on her part to obtain it. No struggle, let alone work! +If women crave to achieve something outside of the arts, you know, +something universal and helpful which will make men acknowledge her +worth, if not the equality, where is the opportunity?" + +"Opportunities should be made," replied Carley. + +"There are a million sides to this question of the modern young +woman--the fin-de-siecle girl. I'm for her!" + +"How about the extreme of style in dress for this +remarkably-to-be-pitied American girl you champion so eloquently?" +queried Carley, sarcastically. + +"Immoral!" exclaimed Eleanor with frank disgust. + +"You admit it?" + +"To my shame, I do." + +"Why do women wear extreme clothes? Why do you and I wear open-work silk +stockings, skirts to our knees, gowns without sleeves or bodices?" + +"We're slaves to fashion," replied Eleanor, "That's the popular excuse." + +"Bah!" exclaimed Carley. + +Eleanor laughed in spite of being half nettled. "Are you going to stop +wearing what all the other women wear--and be looked at askance? Are you +going to be dowdy and frumpy and old-fashioned?" + +"No. But I'll never wear anything again that can be called immoral. +I want to be able to say why I wear a dress. You haven't answered my +question yet. Why do you wear what you frankly admit is disgusting?" + +"I don't know, Carley," replied Eleanor, helplessly. "How you harp on +things! We must dress to make other women jealous and to attract men. To +be a sensation! Perhaps the word 'immoral' is not what I mean. A woman +will be shocking in her obsession to attract, but hardly more than that, +if she knows it." + +"Ah! So few women realize how they actually do look. Haze Ruff could +tell them." + +"Haze Ruff. Who in the world is he or she?" asked Eleanor. + +"Haze Ruff is a he, all right," replied Carley, grimly. + +"Well, who is he?" + +"A sheep-dipper in Arizona," answered Carley, dreamily. + +"Humph! And what can Mr. Ruff tell us?" + +"He told me I looked like one of the devil's angels--and that I dressed +to knock the daylights out of men." + +"Well, Carley Burch, if that isn't rich!" exclaimed Eleanor, with a peal +of laughter. "I dare say you appreciate that as an original compliment." + +"No.... I wonder what Ruff would say about jazz--I just wonder," +murmured Carley. + +"Well, I wouldn't care what he said, and I don't care what you say," +returned Eleanor. "The preachers and reformers and bishops and rabbis +make me sick. They rave about jazz. Jazz--the discordant note of our +decadence! Jazz--the harmonious expression of our musicless, mindless, +soulless materialism!--The idiots! If they could be women for a while +they would realize the error of their ways. But they will never, never +abolish jazz--never, for it is the grandest, the most wonderful, the +most absolutely necessary thing for women in this terrible age of +smotheration." + +"All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not agree," +said Carley. "You leave the future of women to chance, to life, to +materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it to +free will and idealism." + +"Carley, you are getting a little beyond me," declared Eleanor, +dubiously. + +"What are you going to do? It all comes home to each individual woman. +Her attitude toward life." + +"I'll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good sport," +replied Eleanor, smiling. + +"You don't care about the women and children of the future? You'll +not deny yourself now, and think and work, and suffer a little, in the +interest of future humanity?" + +"How you put things, Carley!" exclaimed Eleanor, wearily. "Of course I +care--when you make me think of such things. But what have I to do with +the lives of people in the years to come?" + +"Everything. America for Americans! While you dawdle, the life blood is +being sucked out of our great nation. It is a man's job to fight; it is +a woman's to save.... I think you've made your choice, though you don't +realize it. I'm praying to God that I'll rise to mine." + + +Carley had a visitor one morning earlier than the usual or conventional +time for calls. + +"He wouldn't give no name," said the maid. "He wears soldier clothes, +ma'am, and he's pale, and walks with a cane." + +"Tell him I'll be right down," replied Carley. + +Her hands trembled while she hurriedly dressed. Could this caller be +Virgil Rust? She hoped so, but she doubted. + +As she entered the parlor a tall young man in worn khaki rose to meet +her. At first glance she could not name him, though she recognized the +pale face and light-blue eyes, direct and steady. + +"Good morning, Miss Burch," he said. "I hope you'll excuse so early a +call. You remember me, don't you? I'm George Burton, who had the bunk +next to Rust's." + +"Surely I remember you, Mr. Burton, and I'm glad to see you," replied +Carley, shaking hands with him. "Please sit down. Your being here must +mean you're discharged from the hospital." + +"Yes, I was discharged, all right," he said. + +"Which means you're well again. That is fine. I'm very glad." + +"I was put out to make room for a fellow in bad shape. I'm still shaky +and weak," he replied. "But I'm glad to go. I've pulled through pretty +good, and it'll not be long until I'm strong again. It was the 'flu' +that kept me down." + +"You must be careful. May I ask where you're going and what you expect +to do?" + +"Yes, that's what I came to tell you," he replied, frankly. "I want you +to help me a little. I'm from Illinois and my people aren't so badly +off. But I don't want to go back to my home town down and out, you know. +Besides, the winters are cold there. The doctor advises me to go to +a little milder climate. You see, I was gassed, and got the 'flu' +afterward. But I know I'll be all right if I'm careful.... Well, I've +always had a leaning toward agriculture, and I want to go to Kansas. +Southern Kansas. I want to travel around till I find a place I like, and +there I'll get a job. Not too hard a job at first--that's why I'll need +a little money. I know what to do. I want to lose myself in the +wheat country and forget the--the war. I'll not be afraid of work, +presently.... Now, Miss Burch, you've been so kind--I'm going to ask you +to lend me a little money. I'll pay it back. I can't promise just when. +But some day. Will you?" + +"Assuredly I will," she replied, heartily. "I'm happy to have the +opportunity to help you. How much will you need for immediate use? Five +hundred dollars?" + +"Oh no, not so much as that," he replied. "Just railroad fare home, and +then to Kansas, and to pay board while I get well, you know, and look +around." + +"We'll make it five hundred, anyway," she replied, and, rising, she +went toward the library. "Excuse me a moment." She wrote the check and, +returning, gave it to him. + +"You're very good," he said, rather low. + +"Not at all," replied Carley. "You have no idea how much it means to me +to be permitted to help you. Before I forget, I must ask you, can you +cash that check here in New York?" + +"Not unless you identify me," he said, ruefully, "I don't know anyone I +could ask." + +"Well, when you leave here go at once to my bank--it's on Thirty-fourth +Street--and I'll telephone the cashier. So you'll not have any +difficulty. Will you leave New York at once?" + +"I surely will. It's an awful place. Two years ago when I came here with +my company I thought it was grand. But I guess I lost something over +there. ... I want to be where it's quiet. Where I won't see many +people." + +"I think I understand," returned Carley. "Then I suppose you're in a +hurry to get home? Of course you have a girl you're just dying to see?" + +"No, I'm sorry to say I haven't," he replied, simply. "I was glad I +didn't have to leave a sweetheart behind, when I went to France. But it +wouldn't be so bad to have one to go back to now." + +"Don't you worry!" exclaimed Carley. "You can take your choice +presently. You have the open sesame to every real American girl's +heart." + +"And what is that?" he asked, with a blush. + +"Your service to your country," she said, gravely. + +"Well," he said, with a singular bluntness, "considering I didn't get +any medals or bonuses, I'd like to draw a nice girl." + +"You will," replied Carley, and made haste to change the subject. "By +the way, did you meet Glenn Kilbourne in France?" + +"Not that I remember," rejoined Burton, as he got up, rising rather +stiffly by aid of his cane. "I must go, Miss Burch. Really I can't thank +you enough. And I'll never forget it." + +"Will you write me how you are getting along?" asked Carley, offering +her hand. + +"Yes." + +Carley moved with him out into the hall and to the door. There was +a question she wanted to ask, but found it strangely difficult of +utterance. At the door Burton fixed a rather penetrating gaze upon her. + +"You didn't ask me about Rust," he said. + +"No, I--I didn't think of him--until now, in fact," Carley lied. + +"Of course then you couldn't have heard about him. I was wondering." + +"I have heard nothing." + +"It was Rust who told me to come to you," said Burton. "We were talking +one day, and he--well, he thought you were true blue. He said he knew +you'd trust me and lend me money. I couldn't have asked you but for +him." + +"True blue! He believed that. I'm glad.... Has he spoken of me to you +since I was last at the hospital?" + +"Hardly," replied Burton, with the straight, strange glance on her +again. + +Carley met this glance and suddenly a coldness seemed to envelop her. +It did not seem to come from within though her heart stopped beating. +Burton had not changed--the warmth, the gratitude still lingered about +him. But the light of his eyes! Carley had seen it in Glenn's, in +Rust's--a strange, questioning, far-off light, infinitely aloof and +unutterably sad. Then there came a lift of her heart that released +a pang. She whispered with dread, with a tremor, with an instinct of +calamity. + +"How about--Rust?" + +"He's dead." + + +The winter came, with its bleak sea winds and cold rains and blizzards +of snow. Carley did not go South. She read and brooded, and gradually +avoided all save those true friends who tolerated her. + +She went to the theater a good deal, showing preference for the drama +of strife, and she did not go anywhere for amusement. Distraction +and amusement seemed to be dead issues for her. But she could become +absorbed in any argument on the good or evil of the present day. +Socialism reached into her mind, to be rejected. She had never +understood it clearly, but it seemed to her a state of mind where +dissatisfied men and women wanted to share what harder working or +more gifted people possessed. There were a few who had too much of +the world's goods and many who had too little. A readjustment of such +inequality and injustice must come, but Carley did not see the remedy in +Socialism. + +She devoured books on the war with a morbid curiosity and hope that she +would find some illuminating truth as to the uselessness of sacrificing +young men in the glory and prime of their lives. To her war appeared a +matter of human nature rather than politics. Hate really was an effect +of war. In her judgment future wars could be avoided only in two +ways--by men becoming honest and just or by women refusing to have +children to be sacrificed. As there seemed no indication whatever of +the former, she wondered how soon all women of all races would meet on +a common height, with the mounting spirit that consumed her own heart. +Such time must come. She granted every argument for war and flung +against it one ringing passionate truth--agony of mangled soldiers and +agony of women and children. There was no justification for offensive +war. It was monstrous and hideous. If nature and evolution proved the +absolute need of strife, war, blood, and death in the progress of animal +and man toward perfection, then it would be better to abandon this +Christless code and let the race of man die out. + +All through these weeks she longed for a letter from Glenn. But it did +not come. Had he finally roused to the sweetness and worth and love +of the western girl, Flo Hutter? Carley knew absolutely, through both +intelligence and intuition, that Glenn Kilbourne would never love +Flo. Yet such was her intensity and stress at times, especially in the +darkness of waking hours, that jealousy overcame her and insidiously +worked its havoc. Peace and a strange kind of joy came to her in dreams +of her walks and rides and climbs in Arizona, of the lonely canyon where +it always seemed afternoon, of the tremendous colored vastness of that +Painted Desert. But she resisted these dreams now because when she awoke +from them she suffered such a yearning that it became unbearable. Then +she knew the feeling of the loneliness and solitude of the hills. Then +she knew the sweetness of the murmur of falling water, the wind in the +pines, the song of birds, the white radiance of the stars, the break +of day and its gold-flushed close. But she had not yet divined their +meaning. It was not all love for Glenn Kilbourne. Had city life palled +upon her solely because of the absence of her lover? So Carley plodded +on, like one groping in the night, fighting shadows. + +One day she received a card from an old schoolmate, a girl who had +married out of Carley's set, and had been ostracized. She was living +down on Long Island, at a little country place named Wading River. Her +husband was an electrician--something of an inventor. He worked hard. A +baby boy had just come to them. Would not Carley run down on the train +to see the youngster? + +That was a strong and trenchant call. Carley went. She found indeed a +country village, and on the outskirts of it a little cottage that must +have been pretty in summer, when the green was on vines and trees. +Her old schoolmate was rosy, plump, bright-eyed, and happy. She saw +in Carley no change--a fact that somehow rebounded sweetly on Carley's +consciousness. Elsie prattled of herself and her husband and how they +had worked to earn this little home, and then the baby. + +When Carley saw the adorable dark-eyed, pink-toed, curly-fisted baby she +understood Elsie's happiness and reveled in it. When she felt the soft, +warm, living little body in her arms, against her breast, then she +absorbed some incalculable and mysterious strength. What were the +trivial, sordid, and selfish feelings that kept her in tumult compared +to this welling emotion? Had she the secret in her arms? Babies and +Carley had never become closely acquainted in those infrequent meetings +that were usually the result of chance. But Elsie's baby nestled to +her breast and cooed to her and clung to her finger. When at length the +youngster was laid in his crib it seemed to Carley that the fragrance +and the soul of him remained with her. + +"A real American boy!" she murmured. + +"You can just bet he is," replied Elsie. "Carley, you ought to see his +dad." + +"I'd like to meet him," said Carley, thoughtfully. "Elsie, was he in the +service?" + +"Yes. He was on one of the navy transports that took munitions to +France. Think of me, carrying this baby, with my husband on a boat full +of explosives and with German submarines roaming the ocean! Oh, it was +horrible!" + +"But he came back, and now all's well with you," said Carley, with a +smile of earnestness. "I'm very glad, Elsie." + +"Yes--but I shudder when I think of a possible war in the future. I'm +going to raise boys, and girls, too, I hope--and the thought of war is +torturing." + +Carley found her return train somewhat late, and she took advantage of +the delay to walk out to the wooded headlands above the Sound. + +It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray +sky. Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places. This bit of +woodland had a floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley's feet. There +were sere and brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks. At length +Carley came out on the edge of the bluff with the gray expanse of sea +beneath her, and a long wandering shore line, ragged with wreckage or +driftwood. The surge of water rolled in--a long, low, white, creeping +line that softly roared on the beach and dragged the pebbles gratingly +back. There was neither boat nor living creature in sight. + +Carley felt the scene ease a clutching hand within her breast. Here was +loneliness and solitude vastly different from that of Oak Creek Canyon, +yet it held the same intangible power to soothe. The swish of the surf, +the moan of the wind in the evergreens, were voices that called to +her. How many more miles of lonely land than peopled cities! Then the +sea--how vast! And over that the illimitable and infinite sky, and +beyond, the endless realms of space. It helped her somehow to see and +hear and feel the eternal presence of nature. In communion with nature +the significance of life might be realized. She remembered Glenn +quoting: "The world is too much with us. ... Getting and spending, we +lay waste our powers." What were our powers? What did God intend men to +do with hands and bodies and gifts and souls? She gazed back over the +bleak land and then out across the broad sea. Only a millionth part of +the surface of the unsubmerged earth knew the populous abodes of man. +And the lonely sea, inhospitable to stable homes of men, was thrice the +area of the land. Were men intended, then, to congregate in few +places, to squabble and to bicker and breed the discontents that led to +injustice, hatred, and war? What a mystery it all was! But Nature was +neither false nor little, however cruel she might be. + + +Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal. Wavering now, +restless and sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of +apathy, she was wearing to defeat. + +That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for +Arizona, she wished to spend alone. But her thoughts grew unbearable. +She summed up the endless year. Could she live another like it? +Something must break within her. + +She went out. The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current +which caused the mild madness of spring fever. In the Park the greening +of the grass, the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness of +children, the light on the water, the warm sun--all seemed to reproach +her. Carley fled from the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; and +there, unhappily, she encountered those of her acquaintance with whom +she had least patience. They forced her to think too keenly of herself. +They appeared carefree while she was miserable. + +Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism. When +Carley entered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur. + +"Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces," called out Geralda Conners, a +fair, handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the latest +mode, and whose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one of +health. + +"Say what, Geralda?" asked Carley. "I certainly would not say anything +behind your backs that I wouldn't repeat here." + +"Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up." + +"We did have an argument. And I'm not sure I said all I wanted to." + +"Say the rest here," drawled a lazy, mellow voice. "For Heaven's sake, +stir us up. If I could get a kick out of anything I'd bless it." + +"Carley, go on the stage," advised another. "You've got Elsie Ferguson +tied to the mast for looks. And lately you're surely tragic enough." + +"I wish you'd go somewhere far off!" observed a third. "My husband is +dippy about you." + +"Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in your +heads?" retorted Carley. + +"Sensible? I should hope not. Who wants to be sensible?" + +Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer. "Listen," she called. "I wasn't +kidding Carley. I am good and sore. She goes around knocking everybody +and saying New York backs Sodom off the boards. I want her to come out +with it right here." + +"I dare say I've talked too much," returned Carley. "It's been a rather +hard winter on me. Perhaps, indeed, I've tried the patience of my +friends." + +"See here, Carley," said Geralda, deliberately, "just because you've had +life turn to bitter ashes in your mouth you've no right to poison it for +us. We all find it pretty sweet. You're an unsatisfied woman and if you +don't marry somebody you'll end by being a reformer or fanatic." + +"I'd rather end that way than rot in a shell," retorted Carley. + +"I declare, you make me see red, Carley," flashed Geralda, angrily. "No +wonder Morrison roasts you to everybody. He says Glenn Kilbourne threw +you down for some Western girl. If that's true it's pretty small of you +to vent your spleen on us." + +Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda +Conners was nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt. + +"I have no spleen," she replied, with a dignity of passion. "I have only +pity. I was as blind as you. If heartbreak tore the scales from my +eyes, perhaps that is well for me. For I see something terribly wrong in +myself, in you, in all of us, in the life of today." + +"You keep your pity to yourself. You need it," answered Geralda, with +heat. "There's nothing wrong with me or my friends or life in good old +New York." + +"Nothing wrong!" cried Carley. "Listen. Nothing wrong in you or life +today--nothing for you women to make right? You are blind as bats--as +dead to living truth as if you were buried. Nothing wrong when thousands +of crippled soldiers have no homes--no money--no friends--no work--in +many cases no food or bed?... Splendid young men who went away in their +prime to fight for you and came back ruined, suffering! Nothing wrong +when sane women with the vote might rid politics of partisanship, greed, +crookedness? Nothing wrong when prohibition is mocked by women--when the +greatest boon ever granted this country is derided and beaten down and +cheated? Nothing wrong when there are half a million defective children +in this city? Nothing wrong when there are not enough schools and +teachers to educate our boys and girls, when those teachers are +shamefully underpaid? Nothing wrong when the mothers of this great +country let their youngsters go to the dark motion picture halls and +night after night in thousands of towns over all this broad land see +pictures that the juvenile court and the educators and keepers of +reform schools say make burglars, crooks, and murderers of our boys and +vampires of our girls? Nothing wrong when these young adolescent girls +ape you and wear stockings rolled under their knees below their skirts +and use a lip stick and paint their faces and darken their eyes and +pluck their eyebrows and absolutely do not know what shame is? Nothing +wrong when you may find in any city women standing at street corners +distributing booklets on birth control? Nothing wrong when great +magazines print no page or picture without its sex appeal? Nothing wrong +when the automobile, so convenient for the innocent little run out +of town, presents the greatest evil that ever menaced American girls! +Nothing wrong when money is god--when luxury, pleasure, excitement, +speed are the striven for? Nothing wrong when some of your husbands +spend more of their time with other women than with you? Nothing wrong +with jazz--where the lights go out in the dance hall and the dancers +jiggle and toddle and wiggle in a frenzy? Nothing wrong in a country +where the greatest college cannot report birth of one child to each +graduate in ten years? Nothing wrong with race suicide and the incoming +horde of foreigners?... Nothing wrong with you women who cannot or will +not stand childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of you, when if you did +have a child, you could not nurse it?... Oh, my God, there's nothing +wrong with America except that she staggers under a Titanic burden that +only mothers of sons can remove!... You doll women, you parasites, you +toys of men, you silken-wrapped geisha girls, you painted, idle, purring +cats, you parody of the females of your species--find brains enough if +you can to see the doom hanging over you and revolt before it is too +late!" + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Carley burst in upon her aunt. + +"Look at me, Aunt Mary!" she cried, radiant and exultant. "I'm going +back out West to marry Glenn and live his life!" + +The keen old eyes of her aunt softened and dimmed. "Dear Carley, I've +known that for a long time. You've found yourself at last." + +Then Carley breathlessly babbled her hastily formed plans, every word of +which seemed to rush her onward. + +"You're going to surprise Glenn again?" queried Aunt Mary. + +"Oh, I must! I want to see his face when I tell him." + +"Well, I hope he won't surprise you," declared the old lady. "When did +you hear from him last?" + +"In January. It seems ages--but--Aunt Mary, you don't imagine Glenn--" + +"I imagine nothing," interposed her aunt. "It will turn out happily and +I'll have some peace in my old age. But, Carley, what's to become of +me?" + +"Oh, I never thought!" replied Carley, blankly. "It will be lonely for +you. Auntie, I'll come back in the fall for a few weeks. Glenn will let +me." + +"Let you? Ye gods! So you've come to that? Imperious Carley Burch!... +Thank Heaven, you'll now be satisfied to be let do things." + +"I'd--I'd crawl for him," breathed Carley. + +"Well, child, as you can't be practical, I'll have to be," replied Aunt +Mary, seriously. "Fortunately for you I am a woman of quick decision. +Listen. I'll go West with you. I want to see the Grand Canyon. Then I'll +go on to California, where I have old friends I've not seen for years. +When you get your new home all fixed up I'll spend awhile with you. And +if I want to come back to New York now and then I'll go to a hotel. It +is settled. I think the change will benefit me." + +"Auntie, you make me very happy. I could ask no more," said Carley. + + +Swiftly as endless tasks could make them the days passed. But those on +the train dragged interminably. + +Carley sent her aunt through to the Canyon while she stopped off at +Flagstaff to store innumerable trunks and bags. The first news she heard +of Glenn and the Hutters was that they had gone to the Tonto Basin to +buy hogs and would be absent at least a month. This gave birth to a new +plan in Carley's mind. She would doubly surprise Glenn. Wherefore she +took council with some Flagstaff business men and engaged them to set a +force of men at work on the Deep Lake property, making the improvements +she desired, and hauling lumber, cement, bricks, machinery, +supplies--all the necessaries for building construction. Also she +instructed them to throw up a tent house for her to live in during the +work, and to engage a reliable Mexican man with his wife for servants. +When she left for the Canyon she was happier than ever before in her +life. + +It was near the coming of sunset when Carley first looked down into the +Grand Canyon. She had forgotten Glenn's tribute to this place. In her +rapturous excitement of preparation and travel the Canyon had been +merely a name. But now she saw it and she was stunned. + +What a stupendous chasm, gorgeous in sunset color on the heights, +purpling into mystic shadows in the depths! There was a wonderful +brightness of all the millions of red and yellow and gray surfaces still +exposed to the sun. Carley did not feel a thrill, because feeling seemed +inhibited. She looked and looked, yet was reluctant to keep on looking. +She possessed no image in mind with which to compare this grand and +mystic spectacle. A transformation of color and shade appeared to be +going on swiftly, as if gods were changing the scenes of a Titanic +stage. As she gazed the dark fringed line of the north rim turned to +burnished gold, and she watched that with fascinated eyes. It turned +rose, it lost its fire, it faded to quiet cold gray. The sun had set. + +Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim. There was a +sweet tang of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance +peculiar to the canyon country of Arizona. How it brought back to Carley +remembrance of Oak Creek! In the west, across the purple notches of the +abyss, a dull gold flare showed where the sun had gone down. + +In the morning at eight o'clock there were great irregular black shadows +under the domes and peaks and escarpments. Bright Angel Canyon was all +dark, showing dimly its ragged lines. At noon there were no shadows and +all the colossal gorge lay glaring under the sun. In the evening Carley +watched the Canyon as again the sun was setting. + +Deep dark-blue shadows, like purple sails of immense ships, in wonderful +contrast with the bright sunlit slopes, grew and rose toward the east, +down the canyons and up the walls that faced the west. For a long +while there was no red color, and the first indication of it was a dull +bronze. Carley looked down into the void, at the sailing birds, at the +precipitous slopes, and the dwarf spruces and the weathered old yellow +cliffs. When she looked up again the shadows out there were no longer +dark. They were clear. The slopes and depths and ribs of rock could be +seen through them. Then the tips of the highest peaks and domes turned +bright red. Far to the east she discerned a strange shadow, slowly +turning purple. One instant it grew vivid, then began to fade. Soon +after that all the colors darkened and slowly the pale gray stole over +all. + +At night Carley gazed over and into the black void. But for the awful +sense of depth she would not have known the Canyon to be there. A +soundless movement of wind passed under her. The chasm seemed a grave +of silence. It was as mysterious as the stars and as aloof and as +inevitable. It had held her senses of beauty and proportion in abeyance. + +At another sunrise the crown of the rim, a broad belt of bare rock, +turned pale gold under its fringed dark line of pines. The tips of the +peak gleamed opal. There was no sunrise red, no fire. The light in the +east was a pale gold under a steely green-blue sky. All the abyss of +the Canyon was soft, gray, transparent, and the belt of gold +broadened downward, making shadows on the west slopes of the mesas and +escarpments. Far down in the shadows she discerned the river, yellow, +turgid, palely gleaming. By straining her ears Carley heard a low dull +roar as of distant storm. She stood fearfully at the extreme edge of a +stupendous cliff, where it sheered dark and forbidding, down and down, +into what seemed red and boundless depths of Hades. She saw gold spots +of sunlight on the dark shadows, proving that somewhere, impossible +to discover, the sun was shining through wind-worn holes in the sharp +ridges. Every instant Carley grasped a different effect. Her studied +gaze absorbed an endless changing. And at last she realized that sun and +light and stars and moon and night and shade, all working incessantly +and mutably over shapes and lines and angles and surfaces too numerous +and too great for the sight of man to hold, made an ever-changing +spectacle of supreme beauty and colorful grandeur. + +She talked very little while at the Canyon. It silenced her. She had +come to see it at the critical time of her life and in the right mood. +The superficialities of the world shrunk to their proper insignificance. +Once she asked her aunt: "Why did not Glenn bring me here?" As if this +Canyon proved the nature of all things! + +But in the end Carley found that the rending strife of the +transformation of her attitude toward life had insensibly ceased. It had +ceased during the long watching of this cataclysm of nature, this canyon +of gold-banded black-fringed ramparts, and red-walled mountains which +sloped down to be lost in purple depths. That was final proof of the +strength of nature to soothe, to clarify, to stabilize the tried and +weary and upward-gazing soul. Stronger than the recorded deeds of +saints, stronger than the eloquence of the gifted uplifters of +men, stronger than any words ever written, was the grand, brooding, +sculptured aspect of nature. And it must have been so because thousands +of years before the age of saints or preachers--before the fret +and symbol and figure were cut in stone--man must have watched with +thought-developing sight the wonders of the earth, the monuments of +time, the glooming of the dark-blue sea, the handiwork of God. + + +In May, Carley returned to Flagstaff to take up with earnest inspiration +the labors of homebuilding in a primitive land. + +It required two trucks to transport her baggage and purchases out to +Deep Lake. The road was good for eighteen miles of the distance, until +it branched off to reach her land, and from there it was desert rock +and sand. But eventually they made it; and Carley found herself and +belongings dumped out into the windy and sunny open. The moment was +singularly thrilling and full of transport. She was free. She had shaken +off the shackles. She faced lonely, wild, barren desert that must be +made habitable by the genius of her direction and the labor of her +hands. Always a thought of Glenn hovered tenderly, dreamily in the back +of her consciousness, but she welcomed the opportunity to have a few +weeks of work and activity and solitude before taking up her life with +him. She wanted to adapt herself to the metamorphosis that had been +wrought in her. + +To her amazement and delight, a very considerable progress had been made +with her plans. Under a sheltered red cliff among the cedars had +been erected the tents where she expected to live until the house +was completed. These tents were large, with broad floors high off the +ground, and there were four of them. Her living tent had a porch under +a wide canvas awning. The bed was a boxlike affair, raised off the floor +two feet, and it contained a great, fragrant mass of cedar boughs upon +which the blankets were to be spread. At one end was a dresser with +large mirror, and a chiffonier. There were table and lamp, a low rocking +chair, a shelf for books, a row of hooks upon which to hang things, +a washstand with its necessary accessories, a little stove and a +neat stack of cedar chips and sticks. Navajo rugs on the floor lent +brightness and comfort. + +Carley heard the rustling of cedar branches over her head, and saw +where they brushed against the tent roof. It appeared warm and fragrant +inside, and protected from the wind, and a subdued white light filtered +through the canvas. Almost she felt like reproving herself for the +comfort surrounding her. For she had come West to welcome the hard +knocks of primitive life. + +It took less than an hour to have her trunks stored in one of the spare +tents, and to unpack clothes and necessaries for immediate use. Carley +donned the comfortable and somewhat shabby outdoor garb she had worn at +Oak Creek the year before; and it seemed to be the last thing needed to +make her fully realize the glorious truth of the present. + +"I'm here," she said to her pale, yet happy face in the mirror. "The +impossible has happened. I have accepted Glenn's life. I have answered +that strange call out of the West." + +She wanted to throw herself on the sunlit woolly blankets of her bed and +hug them, to think and think of the bewildering present happiness, to +dream of the future, but she could not lie or sit still, nor keep her +mind from grasping at actualities and possibilities of this place, nor +her hands from itching to do things. + +It developed, presently, that she could not have idled away the time +even if she had wanted to, for the Mexican woman came for her, with +smiling gesticulation and jabber that manifestly meant dinner. Carley +could not understand many Mexican words, and herein she saw another +task. This swarthy woman and her sloe-eyed husband favorably impressed +Carley. + +Next to claim her was Hoyle, the superintendent. "Miss Burch," he said, +"in the early days we could run up a log cabin in a jiffy. Axes, horses, +strong arms, and a few pegs--that was all we needed. But this house +you've planned is different. It's good you've come to take the +responsibility." + +Carley had chosen the site for her home on top of the knoll where Glenn +had taken her to show her the magnificent view of mountains and desert. +Carley climbed it now with beating heart and mingled emotions. A +thousand times already that day, it seemed, she had turned to gaze up +at the noble white-clad peaks. They were closer now, apparently looming +over her, and she felt a great sense of peace and protection in the +thought that they would always be there. But she had not yet seen the +desert that had haunted her for a year. When she reached the summit of +the knoll and gazed out across the open space it seemed that she must +stand spellbound. How green the cedared foreground--how gray and barren +the downward slope--how wonderful the painted steppes! The vision that +had lived in her memory shrank to nothingness. The reality was immense, +more than beautiful, appalling in its isolation, beyond comprehension +with its lure and strength to uplift. + +But the superintendent drew her attention to the business at hand. + +Carley had planned an L-shaped house of one story. Some of her ideas +appeared to be impractical, and these she abandoned. The framework was +up and half a dozen carpenters were lustily at work with saw and hammer. + +"We'd made better progress if this house was in an ordinary place," +explained Hoyle. "But you see the wind blows here, so the framework had +to be made as solid and strong as possible. In fact, it's bolted to the +sills." + +Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted +Desert could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole +of the San Francisco Mountains. Both rooms were to have open fireplaces. +Carley's idea was for service and durability. She thought of comfort in +the severe winters of that high latitude, but elegance and luxury had no +more significance in her life. + +Hoyle made his suggestions as to changes and adaptations, and, receiving +her approval, he went on to show her what had been already accomplished. +Back on higher ground a reservoir of concrete was being constructed +near an ever-flowing spring of snow water from the peaks. This water +was being piped by gravity to the house, and was a matter of greatest +satisfaction to Hoyle, for he claimed that it would never freeze in +winter, and would be cold and abundant during the hottest and driest of +summers. This assurance solved the most difficult and serious problem of +ranch life in the desert. + +Next Hoyle led Carley down off the knoll to the wide cedar valley +adjacent to the lake. He was enthusiastic over its possibilities. Two +small corrals and a large one had been erected, the latter having a low +flat barn connected with it. Ground was already being cleared along the +lake where alfalfa and hay were to be raised. Carley saw the blue and +yellow smoke from burning brush, and the fragrant odor thrilled her. +Mexicans were chopping the cleared cedars into firewood for winter use. + +The day was spent before she realized it. At sunset the carpenters and +mechanics left in two old Ford cars for town. The Mexicans had a camp +in the cedars, and the Hoyles had theirs at the spring under the knoll +where Carley had camped with Glenn and the Hutters. Carley watched the +golden rosy sunset, and as the day ended she breathed deeply as if in +unutterable relief. Supper found her with appetite she had long since +lost. Twilight brought cold wind, the staccato bark of coyotes, the +flicker of camp fires through the cedars. She tried to embrace all her +sensations, but they were so rapid and many that she failed. + +The cold, clear, silent night brought back the charm of the desert. +How flaming white the stars! The great spire-pointed peaks lifted cold +pale-gray outlines up into the deep star-studded sky. Carley walked a +little to and fro, loath to go to her tent, though tired. She wanted +calm. But instead of achieving calmness she grew more and more towards a +strange state of exultation. + +Westward, only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, lay the deep rent in +the level desert--Oak Creek Canyon. If Glenn had been there this night +would have been perfect, yet almost unendurable. She was again grateful +for his absence. What a surprise she had in store for him! And she +imagined his face in its change of expression when she met him. If only +he never learned of her presence in Arizona until she made it known in +person! That she most longed for. Chances were against it, but then her +luck had changed. She looked to the eastward where a pale luminosity +of afterglow shone in the heavens. Far distant seemed the home of +her childhood, the friends she had scorned and forsaken, the city of +complaining and striving millions. If only some miracle might illumine +the minds of her friends, as she felt that hers was to be illumined here +in the solitude. But she well realized that not all problems could be +solved by a call out of the West. Any open and lonely land that might +have saved Glenn Kilbourne would have sufficed for her. It was the +spirit of the thing and not the letter. It was work of any kind and not +only that of ranch life. Not only the raising of hogs! + +Carley directed stumbling steps toward the light of her tent. Her eyes +had not been used to such black shadow along the ground. She had, too, +squeamish feminine fears of hydrophobia skunks, and nameless animals +or reptiles that were imagined denizens of the darkness. She gained her +tent and entered. The Mexican, Gino, as he called himself, had lighted +her lamp and fire. Carley was chilled through, and the tent felt so warm +and cozy that she could scarcely believe it. She fastened the screen +door, laced the flaps across it, except at the top, and then gave +herself up to the lulling and comforting heat. + +There were plans to perfect; innumerable things to remember; a car and +accessories, horses, saddles, outfits to buy. Carley knew she should sit +down at her table and write and figure, but she could not do it then. + +For a long time she sat over the little stove, toasting her knees and +hands, adding some chips now and then to the red coals. And her mind +seemed a kaleidoscope of changing visions, thoughts, feelings. At last +she undressed and blew out the lamp and went to bed. + +Instantly a thick blackness seemed to enfold her and silence as of a +dead world settled down upon her. Drowsy as she was, she could not close +her eyes nor refrain from listening. Darkness and silence were tangible +things. She felt them. And they seemed suddenly potent with magic charm +to still the tumult of her, to soothe and rest, to create thoughts +she had never thought before. Rest was more than selfish indulgence. +Loneliness was necessary to gain consciousness of the soul. Already far +back in the past seemed Carley's other life. + +By and by the dead stillness awoke to faint sounds not before +perceptible to her--a low, mournful sough of the wind in the cedars, +then the faint far-distant note of a coyote, sad as the night and +infinitely wild. + + +Days passed. Carley worked in the mornings with her hands and her +brains. In the afternoons she rode and walked and climbed with a double +object, to work herself into fit physical condition and to explore every +nook and corner of her six hundred and forty acres. + +Then what she had expected and deliberately induced by her efforts +quickly came to pass. Just as the year before she had suffered +excruciating pain from aching muscles, and saddle blisters, and walking +blisters, and a very rending of her bones, so now she fell victim to +them again. In sunshine and rain she faced the desert. Sunburn and sting +of sleet were equally to be endured. And that abomination, the hateful +blinding sandstorm, did not daunt her. But the weary hours of abnegation +to this physical torture at least held one consoling recompense as +compared with her experience of last year, and it was that there was no +one interested to watch for her weaknesses and failures and blunders. +She could fight it out alone. + +Three weeks of this self-imposed strenuous training wore by before +Carley was free enough from weariness and pain to experience other +sensations. Her general health, evidently, had not been so good as when +she had first visited Arizona. She caught cold and suffered other ills +attendant upon an abrupt change of climate and condition. But doggedly +she kept at her task. She rode when she should have been in bed; she +walked when she should have ridden; she climbed when she should have +kept to level ground. And finally by degrees so gradual as not to be +noticed except in the sum of them she began to mend. + +Meanwhile the construction of her house went on with uninterrupted +rapidity. When the low, slanting, wide-eaved roof was completed Carley +lost further concern about rainstorms. Let them come. When the plumbing +was all in and Carley saw verification of Hoyle's assurance that it +would mean a gravity supply of water ample and continual, she lost her +last concern as to the practicability of the work. That, and the earning +of her endurance, seemed to bring closer a wonderful reward, still +nameless and spiritual, that had been unattainable, but now breathed to +her on the fragrant desert wind and in the brooding silence. + + +The time came when each afternoon's ride or climb called to Carley with +increasing delight. But the fact that she must soon reveal to Glenn her +presence and transformation did not seem to be all the cause. She +could ride without pain, walk without losing her breath, work without +blistering her hands; and in this there was compensation. The building +of the house that was to become a home, the development of water +resources and land that meant the making of a ranch--these did not +altogether constitute the anticipation of content. To be active, to +accomplish things, to recall to mind her knowledge of manual training, +of domestic science, of designing and painting, to learn to cook--these +were indeed measures full of reward, but they were not all. In her +wondering, pondering meditation she arrived at the point where she +tried to assign to her love the growing fullness of her life. This, +too, splendid and all-pervading as it was, she had to reject. Some +exceedingly illusive and vital significance of life had insidiously come +to Carley. + +One afternoon, with the sky full of white and black rolling clouds and a +cold wind sweeping through the cedars, she halted to rest and escape the +chilling gale for a while. In a sunny place, under the lee of a gravel +bank, she sought refuge. It was warm here because of the reflected +sunlight and the absence of wind. The sand at the bottom of the bank +held a heat that felt good to her cold hands. All about her and over her +swept the keen wind, rustling the sage, seeping the sand, swishing the +cedars, but she was out of it, protected and insulated. The sky above +showed blue between the threatening clouds. There were no birds or +living creatures in sight. Certainly the place had little of color +or beauty or grace, nor could she see beyond a few rods. Lying there, +without any particular reason that she was conscious of, she suddenly +felt shot through and through with exhilaration. + +Another day, the warmest of the spring so far, she rode a Navajo mustang +she had recently bought from a passing trader; and at the farthest end +of her section, in rough wooded and ridged ground she had not explored, +she found a canyon with red walls and pine trees and gleaming streamlet +and glades of grass and jumbles of rock. It was a miniature canyon, to +be sure, only a quarter of a mile long, and as deep as the height of a +lofty pine, and so narrow that it seemed only the width of a lane, but +it had all the features of Oak Creek Canyon, and so sufficed for the +exultant joy of possession. She explored it. The willow brakes and oak +thickets harbored rabbits and birds. She saw the white flags of deer +running away down the open. Up at the head where the canyon boxed she +flushed a flock of wild turkeys. They ran like ostriches and flew like +great brown chickens. In a cavern Carley found the den of a bear, and in +another place the bleached bones of a steer. + +She lingered here in the shaded depths with a feeling as if she were +indeed lost to the world. These big brown and seamy-barked pines with +their spreading gnarled arms and webs of green needles belonged to her, +as also the tiny brook, the blue bells smiling out of the ferns, the +single stalk of mescal on a rocky ledge. + +Never had sun and earth, tree and rock, seemed a part of her being until +then. She would become a sun-worshiper and a lover of the earth. That +canyon had opened there to sky and light for millions of years; and +doubtless it had harbored sheep herders, Indians, cliff dwellers, +barbarians. She was a woman with white skin and a cultivated mind, +but the affinity for them existed in her. She felt it, and that an +understanding of it would be good for body and soul. + +Another day she found a little grove of jack pines growing on a flat +mesa-like bluff, the highest point on her land. The trees were small +and close together, mingling their green needles overhead and their +discarded brown ones on the ground. From here Carley could see afar to +all points of the compass--the slow green descent to the south and the +climb to the black-timbered distance; the ridged and canyoned country to +the west, red vents choked with green and rimmed with gray; to the north +the grand upflung mountain kingdom crowned with snow; and to the east +the vastness of illimitable space, the openness and wildness, the chased +and beaten mosaic of colored sands and rocks. + +Again and again she visited this lookout and came to love its isolation, +its command of wondrous prospects, its power of suggestion to her +thoughts. She became a creative being, in harmony with the live things +around her. The great life-dispensing sun poured its rays down upon her, +as if to ripen her; and the earth seemed warm, motherly, immense with +its all-embracing arms. She no longer plucked the bluebells to press +to her face, but leaned to them. Every blade of gramma grass, with its +shining bronze-tufted seed head, had significance for her. The scents +of the desert began to have meaning for her. She sensed within her the +working of a great leveling process through which supreme happiness +would come. + +June! The rich, thick, amber light, like a transparent reflection from +some intense golden medium, seemed to float in the warm air. The sky +became an azure blue. In the still noontides, when the bees hummed +drowsily and the flies buzzed, vast creamy-white columnar clouds rolled +up from the horizon, like colossal ships with bulging sails. And summer +with its rush of growing things was at hand. + +Carley rode afar, seeking in strange places the secret that eluded her. +Only a few days now until she would ride down to Oak Creek Canyon! There +was a low, singing melody of wind in the cedars. The earth became +too beautiful in her magnified sight. A great truth was dawning upon +her--that the sacrifice of what she had held as necessary to the +enjoyment of life--that the strain of conflict, the labor of hands, +the forcing of weary body, the enduring of pain, the contact with the +earth--had served somehow to rejuvenate her blood, quicken her pulse, +intensify her sensorial faculties, thrill her very soul, lead her into +the realm of enchantment. + +One afternoon a dull, lead-black-colored cinder knoll tempted her to +explore its bare heights. She rode up until her mustang sank to his +knees and could climb no farther. From there she essayed the ascent +on foot. It took labor. But at last she gained the summit, burning, +sweating, panting. + +The cinder hill was an extinct crater of a volcano. In the center of it +lay a deep bowl, wondrously symmetrical, and of a dark lusterless hue. +Not a blade of grass was there, nor a plant. Carley conceived a desire +to go to the bottom of this pit. She tried the cinders of the edge of +the slope. They had the same consistency as those of the ascent she +had overcome. But here there was a steeper incline. A tingling rush of +daring seemed to drive her over the rounded rim, and, once started +down, it was as if she wore seven-league boots. Fear left her. Only an +exhilarating emotion consumed her. If there were danger, it mattered +not. She strode down with giant steps, she plunged, she started +avalanches to ride them until they stopped, she leaped, and lastly she +fell, to roll over the soft cinders to the pit. + +There she lay. It seemed a comfortable resting place. The pit was +scarcely six feet across. She gazed upward and was astounded. How +steep was the rounded slope on all sides! There were no sides; it was +a circle. She looked up at a round lake of deep translucent sky. Such +depth of blue, such exquisite rare color! Carley imagined she could gaze +through it to the infinite beyond. + +She closed her eyes and rested. Soon the laboring of heart and breath +calmed to normal, so that she could not hear them. Then she lay +perfectly motionless. With eyes shut she seemed still to look, and what +she saw was the sunlight through the blood and flesh of her eyelids. It +was red, as rare a hue as the blue of sky. So piercing did it grow that +she had to shade her eyes with her arm. + +Again the strange, rapt glow suffused her body. Never in all her life +had she been so absolutely alone. She might as well have been in her +grave. She might have been dead to all earthy things and reveling in +spirit in the glory of the physical that had escaped her in life. And +she abandoned herself to this influence. + +She loved these dry, dusty cinders; she loved the crater here hidden +from all save birds; she loved the desert, the earth--above all, the +sun. She was a product of the earth--a creation of the sun. She had +been an infinitesimal atom of inert something that had quickened to life +under the blazing magic of the sun. Soon her spirit would abandon her +body and go on, while her flesh and bone returned to dust. This frame of +hers, that carried the divine spark, belonged to the earth. She had only +been ignorant, mindless, feelingless, absorbed in the seeking of gain, +blind to the truth. She had to give. She had been created a woman; she +belonged to nature; she was nothing save a mother of the future. She had +loved neither Glenn Kilbourne nor life itself. False education, false +standards, false environment had developed her into a woman who imagined +she must feed her body on the milk and honey of indulgence. + +She was abased now--woman as animal, though saved and uplifted by her +power of immortality. Transcendental was her female power to link life +with the future. The power of the plant seed, the power of the earth, +the heat of the sun, the inscrutable creation-spirit of nature, almost +the divinity of God--these were all hers because she was a woman. That +was the great secret, aloof so long. That was what had been wrong with +life--the woman blind to her meaning, her power, her mastery. + +So she abandoned herself to the woman within her. She held out her +arms to the blue abyss of heaven as if to embrace the universe. She was +Nature. She kissed the dusty cinders and pressed her breast against +the warm slope. Her heart swelled to bursting with a glorious and +unutterable happiness. + + +That afternoon as the sun was setting under a gold-white scroll of cloud +Carley got back to Deep Lake. + +A familiar lounging figure crossed her sight. It approached to where she +had dismounted. Charley, the sheep herder of Oak Creek! + +"Howdy!" he drawled, with his queer smile. "So it was you-all who had +this Deep Lake section?" + +"Yes. And how are you, Charley?" she replied, shaking hands with him. + +"Me? Aw, I'm tip-top. I'm shore glad you got this ranch. Reckon I'll hit +you for a job." + +"I'd give it to you. But aren't you working for the Hutters?" + +"Nope. Not any more. Me an' Stanton had a row with them." + +How droll and dry he was! His lean, olive-brown face, with its guileless +clear eyes and his lanky figure in blue jeans vividly recalled Oak Creek +to Carley. + +"Oh, I'm sorry," returned she haltingly, somehow checked in her warm +rush of thought. "Stanton?... Did he quit too?" + +"Yep. He sure did." + +"What was the trouble?" + +"Reckon because Flo made up to Kilbourne," replied Charley, with a grin. + +"Ah! I--I see," murmured Carley. A blankness seemed to wave over her. +It extended to the air without, to the sense of the golden sunset. It +passed. What should she ask--what out of a thousand sudden flashing +queries? "Are--are the Hutters back?" + +"Sure. Been back several days. I reckoned Hoyle told you. Mebbe he +didn't know, though. For nobody's been to town." + +"How is--how are they all?" faltered Carley. There was a strange wall +here between her thought and her utterance. + +"Everybody satisfied, I reckon," replied Charley. + +"Flo--how is she?" burst out Carley. + +"Aw, Flo's loony over her husband," drawled Charley, his clear eyes on +Carley's. + +"Husband!" she gasped. + +"Sure. Flo's gone an' went an' done what I swore on." + +"Who?" whispered Carley, and the query was a terrible blade piercing her +heart. + +"Now who'd you reckon on?" asked Charley, with his slow grin. + +Carley's lips were mute. + +"Wal, it was your old beau thet you wouldn't have," returned Charley, +as he gathered up his long frame, evidently to leave. "Kilbourne! He an' +Flo came back from the Tonto all hitched up." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Vague sense of movement, of darkness, and of cold attended Carley's +consciousness for what seemed endless time. + +A fall over rocks and a severe thrust from a sharp branch brought an +acute appreciation of her position, if not of her mental state. Night +had fallen. The stars were out. She had stumbled over a low ledge. +Evidently she had wandered around, dazedly and aimlessly, until brought +to her senses by pain. But for a gleam of campfires through the cedars +she would have been lost. It did not matter. She was lost, anyhow. What +was it that had happened? + +Charley, the sheep herder! Then the thunderbolt of his words burst upon +her, and she collapsed to the cold stones. She lay quivering from head +to toe. She dug her fingers into the moss and lichen. "Oh, God, to +think--after all--it happened!" she moaned. There had been a rending +within her breast, as of physical violence, from which she now suffered +anguish. There were a thousand stinging nerves. There was a mortal +sickness of horror, of insupportable heartbreaking loss. She could not +endure it. She could not live under it. + +She lay there until energy supplanted shock. Then she rose to rush into +the darkest shadows of the cedars, to grope here and there, hanging her +head, wringing her hands, beating her breast. "It can't be true," she +cried. "Not after my struggle--my victory--not now!" But there had been +no victory. And now it was too late. She was betrayed, ruined, lost. +That wonderful love had wrought transformation in her--and now havoc. +Once she fell against the branches of a thick cedar that upheld her. The +fragrance which had been sweet was now bitter. Life that had been bliss +was now hateful! She could not keep still for a single moment. + +Black night, cedars, brush, rocks, washes, seemed not to obstruct her. +In a frenzy she rushed on, tearing her dress, her hands, her hair. +Violence of some kind was imperative. All at once a pale gleaming open +space, shimmering under the stars, lay before her. It was water. Deep +Lake! And instantly a hideous terrible longing to destroy herself +obsessed her. She had no fear. She could have welcomed the cold, slimy +depths that meant oblivion. But could they really bring oblivion? A year +ago she would have believed so, and would no longer have endured such +agony. She had changed. A cursed strength had come to her, and it was +this strength that now augmented her torture. She flung wide her arms to +the pitiless white stars and looked up at them. "My hope, my faith, +my love have failed me," she whispered. "They have been a lie. I went +through hell for them. And now I've nothing to live for.... Oh, let me +end it all!" + +If she prayed to the stars for mercy, it was denied her. Passionlessly +they blazed on. But she could not kill herself. In that hour death would +have been the only relief and peace left to her. Stricken by the cruelty +of her fate, she fell back against the stones and gave up to grief. +Nothing was left but fierce pain. The youth and vitality and intensity +of her then locked arms with anguish and torment and a cheated, +unsatisfied love. Strength of mind and body involuntarily resisted the +ravages of this catastrophe. Will power seemed nothing, but the flesh +of her, that medium of exquisite sensation, so full of life, so prone to +joy, refused to surrender. The part of her that felt fought terribly for +its heritage. + +All night long Carley lay there. The crescent moon went down, the stars +moved on their course, the coyotes ceased to wail, the wind died away, +the lapping of the waves along the lake shore wore to gentle splash, the +whispering of the insects stopped as the cold of dawn approached. The +darkest hour fell--hour of silence, solitude, and melancholy, when the +desert lay tranced, cold, waiting, mournful without light of moon or +stars or sun. + +In the gray dawn Carley dragged her bruised and aching body back to her +tent, and, fastening the door, she threw off wet clothes and boots and +fell upon her bed. Slumber of exhaustion came to her. + +When she awoke the tent was light and the moving shadows of cedar boughs +on the white canvas told that the sun was straight above. Carley ached +as never before. A deep pang seemed invested in every bone. Her heart +felt swollen out of proportion to its space in her breast. Her breathing +came slow and it hurt. Her blood was sluggish. Suddenly she shut her +eyes. She loathed the light of day. What was it that had happened? + +Then the brutal truth flashed over her again, in aspect new, with +all the old bitterness. For an instant she experienced a suffocating +sensation as if the canvas had sagged under the burden of heavy air and +was crushing her breast and heart. Then wave after wave of emotion swept +over her. The storm winds of grief and passion were loosened again. And +she writhed in her misery. + +Some one knocked on her door. The Mexican woman called anxiously. Carley +awoke to the fact that her presence was not solitary on the physical +earth, even if her soul seemed stricken to eternal loneliness. Even in +the desert there was a world to consider. Vanity that had bled to death, +pride that had been crushed, availed her not here. But something else +came to her support. The lesson of the West had been to endure, not to +shirk--to face an issue, not to hide. Carley got up, bathed, dressed, +brushed and arranged her dishevelled hair. The face she saw in the +mirror excited her amaze and pity. Then she went out in answer to the +call for dinner. But she could not eat. The ordinary functions of life +appeared to be deadened. + +The day happened to be Sunday, and therefore the workmen were absent. +Carley had the place to herself. How the half-completed house mocked +her! She could not bear to look at it. What use could she make of it +now? Flo Hutter had become the working comrade of Glenn Kilbourne, the +mistress of his cabin. She was his wife and she would be the mother of +his children. + +That thought gave birth to the darkest hour of Carley Burch's life. She +became possessed as by a thousand devils. She became merely a female +robbed of her mate. Reason was not in her, nor charity, nor justice. +All that was abnormal in human nature seemed coalesced in her, dominant, +passionate, savage, terrible. She hated with an incredible and insane +ferocity. In the seclusion of her tent, crouched on her bed, silent, +locked, motionless, she yet was the embodiment of all terrible strife +and storm in nature. Her heart was a maelstrom and would have whirled +and sucked down to hell all the beings that were men. Her soul was +a bottomless gulf, filled with the gales and the fires of jealousy, +superhuman to destroy. + +That fury consumed all her remaining strength, and from the relapse she +sank to sleep. + +Morning brought the inevitable reaction. However long her other +struggles, this monumental and final one would be brief. She realized +that, yet was unable to understand how it could be possible, unless +shock or death or mental aberration ended the fight. An eternity of +emotion lay back between this awakening of intelligence and the hour of +her fall into the clutches of primitive passion. + +That morning she faced herself in the mirror and asked, "Now--what do I +owe you?" It was not her voice that answered. It was beyond her. But +it said: "Go on! You are cut adrift. You are alone. You owe none but +yourself!... Go on! Not backward--not to the depths--but up--upward!" + +She shuddered at such a decree. How impossible for her! All animal, all +woman, all emotion, how could she live on the cold, pure heights? Yet +she owed something intangible and inscrutable to herself. Was it the +thing that woman lacked physically, yet contained hidden in her soul? +An element of eternal spirit to rise! Because of heartbreak and ruin +and irreparable loss must she fall? Was loss of love and husband and +children only a test? The present hour would be swallowed in the sum of +life's trials. She could not go back. She would not go down. There was +wrenched from her tried and sore heart an unalterable and unquenchable +decision--to make her own soul prove the evolution of woman. Vessel of +blood and flesh she might be, doomed by nature to the reproduction of +her kind, but she had in her the supreme spirit and power to carry on +the progress of the ages--the climb of woman out of the darkness. + +Carley went out to the workmen. The house should be completed and she +would live in it. Always there was the stretching and illimitable desert +to look at, and the grand heave upward of the mountains. Hoyle was full +of zest for the practical details of the building. He saw nothing of +the havoc wrought in her. Nor did the other workmen glance more than +casually at her. In this Carley lost something of a shirking fear that +her loss and grief were patent to all eyes. + +That afternoon she mounted the most spirited of the mustangs she had +purchased from the Indians. To govern him and stick on him required all +her energy. And she rode him hard and far, out across the desert, across +mile after mile of cedar forest, clear to the foothills. She rested +there, absorbed in gazing desertward, and upon turning back again, she +ran him over the level stretches. Wind and branch threshed her seemingly +to ribbons. Violence seemed good for her. A fall had no fear for her +now. She reached camp at dusk, hot as fire, breathless and strengthless. +But she had earned something. Such action required constant use of +muscle and mind. If need be she could drive both to the very furthermost +limit. She could ride and ride--until the future, like the immensity of +the desert there, might swallow her. She changed her clothes and +rested a while. The call to supper found her hungry. In this fact +she discovered mockery of her grief. Love was not the food of life. +Exhausted nature's need of rest and sleep was no respecter of a woman's +emotion. + +Next day Carley rode northward, wildly and fearlessly, as if this +conscious activity was the initiative of an endless number of rides that +were to save her. As before the foothills called her, and she went on +until she came to a very high one. + +Carley dismounted from her panting horse, answering the familiar impulse +to attain heights by her own effort. + +"Am I only a weakling?" she asked herself. "Only a creature mined by +the fever of the soul!... Thrown from one emotion to another? Never the +same. Yearning, suffering, sacrificing, hoping, and changing--forever +the same! What is it that drives me? A great city with all its +attractions has failed to help me realize my life. So have friends +failed. So has the world. What can solitude and grandeur do?... All this +obsession of mine--all this strange feeling for simple elemental earthly +things likewise will fail me. Yet I am driven. They would call me a mad +woman." + +It took Carley a full hour of slow body-bending labor to climb to the +summit of that hill. High, steep, and rugged, it resisted ascension. But +at last she surmounted it and sat alone on the heights, with naked eyes, +and an unconscious prayer on her lips. + +What was it that had happened? Could there be here a different answer +from that which always mocked her? + +She had been a girl, not accountable for loss of mother, for choice +of home and education. She had belonged to a class. She had grown to +womanhood in it. She had loved, and in loving had escaped the evil of +her day, if not its taint. She had lived only for herself. Conscience +had awakened--but, alas! too late. She had overthrown the sordid, +self-seeking habit of life; she had awakened to real womanhood; she had +fought the insidious spell of modernity and she had defeated it; she +had learned the thrill of taking root in new soil, the pain and joy +of labor, the bliss of solitude, the promise of home and love and +motherhood. But she had gathered all these marvelous things to her soul +too late for happiness. + +"Now it is answered," she declared aloud. "That is what has happened?... +And all that is past.... Is there anything left? If so what?" + +She flung her query out to the winds of the desert. But the desert +seemed too gray, too vast, too remote, too aloof, too measureless. It +was not concerned with her little life. Then she turned to the mountain +kingdom. + +It seemed overpoweringly near at hand. It loomed above her to pierce the +fleecy clouds. It was only a stupendous upheaval of earth-crust, grown +over at the base by leagues and leagues of pine forest, belted along the +middle by vast slanting zigzag slopes of aspen, rent and riven toward +the heights into canyon and gorge, bared above to cliffs and corners of +craggy rock, whitened at the sky-piercing peaks by snow. Its beauty and +sublimity were lost upon Carley now; she was concerned with its travail, +its age, its endurance, its strength. And she studied it with magnified +sight. + +What incomprehensible subterranean force had swelled those immense +slopes and lifted the huge bulk aloft to the clouds? Cataclysm of +nature--the expanding or shrinking of the earth--vast volcanic action +under the surface! Whatever it had been, it had left its expression of +the travail of the universe. This mountain mass had been hot gas when +flung from the parent sun, and now it was solid granite. What had it +endured in the making? What indeed had been its dimensions before the +millions of years of its struggle? + +Eruption, earthquake, avalanche, the attrition of glacier, the erosion +of water, the cracking of frost, the weathering of rain and wind and +snow--these it had eternally fought and resisted in vain, yet still +it stood magnificent, frowning, battle-scarred and undefeated. Its +sky-piercing peaks were as cries for mercy to the Infinite. This old +mountain realized its doom. It had to go, perhaps to make room for +a newer and better kingdom. But it endured because of the spirit of +nature. The great notched circular line of rock below and between the +peaks, in the body of the mountains, showed where in ages past the +heart of living granite had blown out, to let loose on all the near +surrounding desert the streams of black lava and the hills of black +cinders. Despite its fringe of green it was hoary with age. Every +looming gray-faced wall, massive and sublime, seemed a monument of its +mastery over time. Every deep-cut canyon, showing the skeleton ribs, the +caverns and caves, its avalanche-carved slides, its long, fan-shaped, +spreading taluses, carried conviction to the spectator that it was but a +frail bit of rock, that its life was little and brief, that upon it had +been laid the merciless curse of nature. Change! Change must unknit +the very knots of the center of the earth. So its strength lay in the +sublimity of its defiance. It meant to endure to the last rolling grain +of sand. It was a dead mountain of rock, without spirit, yet it taught a +grand lesson to the seeing eye. + +Life was only a part, perhaps an infinitely small part of nature's plan. +Death and decay were just as important to her inscrutable design. The +universe had not been created for life, ease, pleasure, and happiness +of a man creature developed from lower organisms. If nature's secret was +the developing of a spirit through all time, Carley divined that she had +it within her. So the present meant little. + +"I have no right to be unhappy," concluded Carley. "I had no right to +Glenn Kilbourne. I failed him. In that I failed myself. Neither life nor +nature failed me--nor love. It is no longer a mystery. Unhappiness is +only a change. Happiness itself is only change. So what does it matter? +The great thing is to see life--to understand--to feel--to work--to +fight--to endure. It is not my fault I am here. But it is my fault if +I leave this strange old earth the poorer for my failure.... I will no +longer be little. I will find strength. I will endure.... I still have +eyes, ears, nose, taste. I can feel the sun, the wind, the nip of frost. +Must I slink like a craven because I've lost the love of one man? Must I +hate Flo Hutter because she will make Glenn happy? Never!... All of this +seems better so, because through it I am changed. I might have lived on, +a selfish clod!" + +Carley turned from the mountain kingdom and faced her future with the +profound and sad and far-seeing look that had come with her lesson. She +knew what to give. Sometime and somewhere there would be recompense. +She would hide her wound in the faith that time would heal it. And the +ordeal she set herself, to prove her sincerity and strength, was to ride +down to Oak Creek Canyon. + +Carley did not wait many days. Strange how the old vanity held her back +until something of the havoc in her face should be gone! + +One morning she set out early, riding her best horse, and she took a +sheep trail across country. The distance by road was much farther. The +June morning was cool, sparkling, fragrant. Mocking birds sang from the +topmost twig of cedars; doves cooed in the pines; sparrow hawks sailed +low over the open grassy patches. Desert primroses showed their rounded +pink clusters in sunny places, and here and there burned the carmine of +Indian paintbrush. Jack rabbits and cotton-tails bounded and scampered +away through the sage. The desert had life and color and movement this +June day. And as always there was the dry fragrance on the air. + +Her mustang had been inured to long and consistent travel over the +desert. Her weight was nothing to him and he kept to the swinging lope +for miles. As she approached Oak Creek Canyon, however, she drew him to +a trot, and then a walk. Sight of the deep red-walled and green-floored +canyon was a shock to her. + +The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan's sheep camp, at a point +several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze +Ruff. She remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep +jump-off where the road led down off the rim into the canyon. Here she +dismounted and walked. From the foot of this descent she knew every rod +of the way would be familiar to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to +turn away and fly from them. But she kept on and mounted again at level +ground. + +The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears--sweet, sad, +memorable, strangely powerful to hurt. Yet the sound seemed of long ago. +Down here summer had advanced. Rich thick foliage overspread the winding +road of sand. Then out of the shade she passed into the sunnier regions +of isolated pines. Along here she had raced Calico with Glenn's bay; +and here she had caught him, and there was the place she had fallen. +She halted a moment under the pine tree where Glenn had held her in his +arms. Tears dimmed her eyes. If only she had known then the truth, the +reality! But regrets were useless. + +By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees, and its pipe-organ +conformation was familiar to Carley. She left the road and turned to go +down to the creek. Sycamores and maples and great bowlders, and mossy +ledges overhanging the water, and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot +where she and Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day. Her mustang +splashed into the clear water and halted to drink. Beyond, through the +trees, Carley saw the sunny red-earthed clearing that was Glenn's farm. +She looked, and fought herself, and bit her quivering lip until she +tasted blood. Then she rode out into the open. + +The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and +plowed. But she gazed no farther. She did not want to see the spot where +she had given Glenn his ring and had parted from him. She rode on. If +she could pass West Fork she believed her courage would rise to the +completion of this ordeal. Places were what she feared. Places that she +had loved while blindly believing she hated! There the narrow gap of +green and blue split the looming red wall. She was looking into West +Fork. Up there stood the cabin. How fierce a pang rent her breast! She +faltered at the crossing of the branch stream, and almost surrendered. +The water murmured, the leaves rustled, the bees hummed, the birds +sang--all with some sad sweetness that seemed of the past. + +Then the trail leading up West Fork was like a barrier. She saw horse +tracks in it. Next she descried boot tracks the shape of which was so +well-remembered that it shook her heart. There were fresh tracks in the +sand, pointing in the direction of the Lodge. Ah! that was where Glenn +lived now. Carley strained at her will to keep it fighting her memory. +The glory and the dream were gone! + +A touch of spur urged her mustang into a gallop. The splashing ford of +the creek--the still, eddying pool beyond--the green orchards--the white +lacy waterfall--and Lolomi Lodge! + +Nothing had altered. But Carley seemed returning after many years. +Slowly she dismounted--slowly she climbed the porch steps. Was there no +one at home? Yet the vacant doorway, the silence--something attested to +the knowledge of Carley's presence. Then suddenly Mrs. Hutter fluttered +out with Flo behind her. + +"You dear girl--I'm so glad!" cried Mrs. Hutter, her voice trembling. + +"I'm glad to see you, too," said Carley, bending to receive Mrs. +Hutter's embrace. Carley saw dim eyes--the stress of agitation, but no +surprise. + +"Oh, Carley!" burst out the Western girl, with voice rich and full, yet +tremulous. + +"Flo, I've come to wish you happiness," replied Carley, very low. + +Was it the same Flo? This seemed more of a woman--strange now--white and +strained--beautiful, eager, questioning. A cry of gladness burst from +her. Carley felt herself enveloped in strong close clasp--and then a +warm, quick kiss of joy. It shocked her, yet somehow thrilled. Sure was +the welcome here. Sure was the strained situation, also, but the voice +rang too glad a note for Carley. It touched her deeply, yet she could +not understand. She had not measured the depth of Western friendship. + +"Have you--seen Glenn?" queried Flo, breathlessly. + +"Oh no, indeed not," replied Carley, slowly gaining composure. The +nervous agitation of these women had stilled her own. "I just rode up +the trail. Where is he?" + +"He was here--a moment ago," panted Flo. "Oh, Carley, we sure are +locoed. ... Why, we only heard an hour ago--that you were at Deep +Lake.... Charley rode in. He told us.... I thought my heart would break. +Poor Glenn! When he heard it.... But never mind me. Jump your horse and +run to West Fork!" + +The spirit of her was like the strength of her arms as she hurried +Carley across the porch and shoved her down the steps. + +"Climb on and run, Carley," cried Flo. "If you only knew how glad he'll +be that you came!" + +Carley leaped into the saddle and wheeled the mustang. But she had no +answer for the girl's singular, almost wild exultance. Then like a +shot the spirited mustang was off down the lane. Carley wondered with +swelling heart. Was her coming such a wondrous surprise--so unexpected +and big in generosity--something that would make Kilbourne as glad as it +had seemed to make Flo? Carley thrilled to this assurance. + +Down the lane she flew. The red walls blurred and the sweet wind whipped +her face. At the trail she swerved the mustang, but did not check his +gait. Under the great pines he sped and round the bulging wall. At the +rocky incline leading to the creek she pulled the fiery animal to a +trot. How low and clear the water! As Carley forded it fresh cool drops +splashed into her face. Again she spurred her mount and again trees and +walls rushed by. Up and down the yellow bits of trail--on over the brown +mats of pine needles--until there in the sunlight shone the little gray +log cabin with a tall form standing in the door. One instant the canyon +tilted on end for Carley and she was riding into the blue sky. Then some +magic of soul sustained her, so that she saw clearly. Reaching the cabin +she reined in her mustang. + +"Hello, Glenn! Look who's here!" she cried, not wholly failing of +gayety. + +He threw up his sombrero. + +"Whoopee!" he yelled, in stentorian voice that rolled across the canyon +and bellowed in hollow echo and then clapped from wall to wall. The +unexpected Western yell, so strange from Glenn, disconcerted Carley. Had +he only answered her spirit of greeting? Had hers rung false? + +But he was coming to her. She had seen the bronze of his face turn to +white. How gaunt and worn he looked. Older he appeared, with deeper +lines and whiter hair. His jaw quivered. + +"Carley Burch, so it was you?" he queried, hoarsely. + +"Glenn, I reckon it was," she replied. "I bought your Deep Lake ranch +site. I came back too late.... But it is never too late for some +things.... I've come to wish you and Flo all the happiness in the +world--and to say we must be friends." + +The way he looked at her made her tremble. He strode up beside the +mustang, and he was so tall that his shoulder came abreast of her. He +placed a big warm hand on hers, as it rested, ungloved, on the pommel of +the saddle. + +"Have you seen Flo?" he asked. + +"I just left her. It was funny--the way she rushed me off after you. As +if there weren't two--" + +Was it Glenn's eyes or the movement of his hand that checked her +utterance? His gaze pierced her soul. His hand slid along her arm to her +waist--around it. Her heart seemed to burst. + +"Kick your feet out of the stirrups," he ordered. + +Instinctively she obeyed. Then with a strong pull he hauled her half +out of the saddle, pellmell into his arms. Carley had no resistance. She +sank limp, in an agony of amaze. Was this a dream? Swift and hard his +lips met hers--and again--and again.... + +"Oh, my God!--Glenn, are--you--mad?" she whispered, almost swooning. + +"Sure--I reckon I am," he replied, huskily, and pulled her all the way +out of the saddle. + +Carley would have fallen but for his support. She could not think. She +was all instinct. Only the amaze--the sudden horror--drifted--faded as +before fires of her heart! + +"Kiss me!" he commanded. + +She would have kissed him if death were the penalty. How his face +blurred in her dimmed sight! Was that a strange smile? Then he held her +back from him. + +"Carley--you came to wish Flo and me happiness?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes--yes.... Pity me, Glenn--let me go. I meant well.... I +should--never have come." + +"Do you love me?" he went on, with passionate, shaking clasp. + +"God help me--I do--I do!... And now it will kill me!" + +"What did that damned fool Charley tell you?" + +The strange content of his query, the trenchant force of it, brought her +upright, with sight suddenly cleared. Was this giant the tragic Glenn +who had strode to her from the cabin door? + +"Charley told me--you and Flo--were married," she whispered. + +"You didn't believe him!" returned Glenn. + +She could no longer speak. She could only see her lover, as if +transfigured, limned dark against the looming red wall. + +"That was one of Charley's queer jokes. I told you to beware of him. Flo +is married, yes--and very happy.... I'm unutterably happy, too--but I'm +not married. Lee Stanton was the lucky bridegroom.... Carley, the moment +I saw you I knew you had come back to me." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Call of the Canyon, by Zane Grey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE CANYON *** + +***** This file should be named 1881.txt or 1881.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/1881/ + +Produced by Bill Brewer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Carley Burch +laid the letter in her lap and gazed dreamily through the window. + +It was a day typical of early April in New York, rather cold and gray, with +steely sunlight. Spring breathed in the air, but the women passing along +Fifty-seventh Street wore furs and wraps. She heard the distant clatter of +an L train and then the hum of a motor car. A hurdy-gurdy jarred into the +interval of quiet. + +"Glenn has been gone over a year," she mused, "three months over a year-- +and of all his strange letters this seems the strangest yet." + +She lived again, for the thousandth time, the last moments she had spent +with him. It had been on New-Year's Eve, 1918. They had called upon friends +who were staying at the McAlpin, in a suite on the twenty-first floor +overlooking Broadway. And when the last quarter hour of that eventful and +tragic year began slowly to pass with the low swell of whistles and bells, +Carley's friends had discreetly left her alone with her lover, at the open +window, to watch and hear the old year out, the new year in. Glenn +Kilbourne had returned from France early that fall, shell-shocked and +gassed, and otherwise incapacitated for service in the army--a wreck of his +former sterling self and in many unaccountable ways a stranger to her. +Cold, silent, haunted by something, he had made her miserable with his +aloofness. But as the bells began to ring out the year that had been his +ruin Glenn had drawn her close, tenderly, passionately, and yet strangely, +too. + +"Carley, look and listen!" he had whispered. + +Under them stretched the great long white flare of Broadway, with its +snow-covered length glittering under a myriad of electric lights. Sixth +Avenue swerved away to the right, a less brilliant lane of blanched snow. +The L trains crept along like huge fire-eyed serpents. The hum of the +ceaseless moving line of motor cars drifted upward faintly, almost drowned +in the rising clamor of the street. Broadway's gay and thoughtless crowds +surged to and fro, from that height merely a thick stream of black figures, +like contending columns of ants on the march. And everywhere the monstrous +electric signs flared up vivid in white and red and green; and dimmed and +paled, only to flash up again. + +Ring out the Old! Ring in the New! Carley had poignantly felt the sadness +of the one, the promise of the other. As one by one the siren factory +whistles opened up with deep, hoarse bellow, the clamor of the street and +the ringing of the bells were lost in a volume of continuous sound that +swelled on high into a magnificent roar. It was the voice of a city--of a +nation. It was the voice of a people crying out the strife and the agony of +the year--pealing forth a prayer for the future. + +Glenn had put his lips to her ear: "It's like the voice in my soul!" Never +would she forget the shock of that. And how she had stood spellbound, +enveloped in the mighty volume of sound no longer discordant, but full of +great, pregnant melody, until the white ball burst upon the tower of the +Times Building, showing the bright figures 1919. + +The new year had not been many minutes old when Glenn Kilbourne had told +her he was going West to try to recover his health. + +Carley roused out of her memories to take up the letter that had so +perplexed her. It bore the postmark, Flagstaff, Arizona. She reread it with +slow pondering thoughtfulness. + + +WEST FORK, +March 25. + +DEAR CARLEY: + +It does seem my neglect in writing you is unpardonable. I used to be a +pretty fair correspondent, but in that as in other things I have changed. + +One reason I have not answered sooner is because your letter was so sweet +and loving that it made me feel an ungrateful and unappreciative wretch. +Another is that this life I now lead does not induce writing. I am outdoors +all day, and when I get back to this cabin at night I am too tired for +anything but bed. + +Your imperious questions I must answer--and that must, of course, is a +third reason why I have delayed my reply. First, you ask, "Don't you love +me any more as you used to?" . . . Frankly, I do not. I am sure my old love +for you, before I went to France, was selfish, thoughtless, sentimental, +and boyish. I am a man now. And my love for you is different. Let me assure +you that it has been about all left to me of what is noble and beautiful. +Whatever the changes in me for the worse, my love for you, at least, has +grown better, finer, purer. + +And now for your second question, "Are you coming home as soon as you are +well again?" . . . Carley, I am well. I have delayed telling you this +because I knew you would expect me to rush back East with the telling. But-- +the fact is, Carley, I am not coming--just yet. I wish it were possible +for me to make you understand. For a long time I seem to have been frozen +within. You know when I came back from France I couldn't talk. It's almost +as bad as that now. Yet all that I was then seems to have changed again. It +is only fair to you to tell you that, as I feel now, I hate the city, I +hate people, and particularly I hate that dancing, drinking, lounging set +you chase with. I don't want to come East until I am over that, you know. . . +Suppose I never get over it? Well, Carley, you can free yourself from +me by one word that I could never utter. I could never break our +engagement. During the hell I went through in the war my attachment to you +saved me from moral ruin, if it did not from perfect honor and fidelity. +This is another thing I despair of making you understand. And in the chaos +I've wandered through since the war my love for you was my only anchor. You +never guessed, did you, that I lived on your letters until I got well. And +now the fact that I might get along without them is no discredit to their +charm or to you. + +It is all so hard to put in words, Carley. To lie down with death and get +up with death was nothing. To face one's degradation was nothing. But to +come home an incomprehensibly changed man--and to see my old life as +strange as if it were the new life of another planet--to try to slip into +the old groove--well, no words of mine can tell you how utterly impossible +it was. + +My old job was not open to me, even if I had been able to work. The +government that I fought for left me to starve, or to die of my maladies +like a dog, for all it cared. + +I could not live on your money, Carley. My people are poor, as you know. So +there was nothing for me to do but to borrow a little money from my friends +and to come West. I'm glad I had the courage to come. What this West is +I'll never try to tell you, because, loving the luxury and excitement and +glitter of the city as you do, you'd think I was crazy. + +Getting on here, in my condition, was as hard as trench life. But now, +Carley--something has come to me out of the West. That, too, I am unable to +put into words. Maybe I can give you an inkling of it. I'm strong enough to +chop wood all day. No man or woman passes my cabin in a month. But I am +never lonely. I love these vast red canyon walls towering above me. And the +silence is so sweet. Think of the hellish din that filled my ears. Even +now--sometimes, the brook here changes its babbling murmur to the roar of +war. I never understood anything of the meaning of nature until I lived +under these looming stone walls and whispering pines. + +So, Carley, try to understand me, or at least be kind. You know they came +very near writing, "Gone west!" after my name, and considering that, this +"Out West" signifies for me a very fortunate difference. A tremendous +difference! For the present I'll let well enough alone. + +Adios. Write soon. Love from + +GLEN + + +Carley's second reaction to the letter was a sudden upflashing desire to +see her lover--to go out West and find him. Impulses with her were rather +rare and inhibited, but this one made her tremble. If Glenn was well again +he must have vastly changed from the moody, stone-faced, and haunted-eyed +man who had so worried and distressed her. He had embarrassed her, too, for +sometimes, in her home, meeting young men there who had not gone into the +service, he had seemed to retreat into himself, singularly aloof, as if his +world was not theirs. + +Again, with eager eyes and quivering lips, she read the letter. It +contained words that lifted her heart. Her starved love greedily absorbed +them. In them she had excuse for any resolve that might bring Glenn closer +to her. And she pondered over this longing to go to him. + +Carley had the means to come and go and live as she liked. She did not +remember her father, who had died when she was a child. Her mother had left +her in the care of a sister, and before the war they had divided their time +between New York and Europe, the Adirondacks and Florida, Carley had gone +in for Red Cross and relief work with more of sincerity than most of her +set. But she was really not used to making any decision as definite and +important as that of going out West alone. She had never been farther west +than Jersey City; and her conception of the West was a hazy one of vast +plains and rough mountains, squalid towns, cattle herds, and uncouth +ill-clad men. + +So she carried the letter to her aunt, a rather slight woman with a kindly +face and shrewd eyes, and who appeared somewhat given to old-fashioned +garments. + +"Aunt Mary, here's a letter from Glenn," said Carley. "It's more of a +stumper than usual. Please read it." + +"Dear me! You look upset," replied the aunt, mildly, and, adjusting her +spectacles, she took the letter. + +Carley waited impatiently for the perusal, conscious of inward forces +coming more and more to the aid of her impulse to go West. Her aunt paused +once to murmur how glad she was that Glenn had gotten well. Then she read +on to the close. + +"Carley, that's a fine letter," she said, fervently. "Do you see through +it?" + +"No, I don't," replied Carley. "That's why I asked you to read it." + +"Do you still love Glenn as you used to before--" + +"Why, Aunt Mary!" exclaimed Carley, in surprise. + +"Excuse me, Carley, if I'm blunt. But the fact is young women of modern +times are very different from my kind when I was a girl. You haven't acted +as though you pined for Glenn. You gad around almost the same as ever." + +"What's a girl to do?" protested Carley. + +"You are twenty-six years old, Carley," retorted Aunt Mary. + +"Suppose I am. I'm as young--as I ever was." + +"Well, let's not argue about modern girls and modern times. We never get +anywhere," returned her aunt, kindly. "But I can tell you something of what +Glenn Kilbourne means in that letter--if you want to hear it." + +"I do--indeed." + +"The war did something horrible to Glenn aside from wrecking his health. +Shell-shock, they said! I don't understand that. Out of his mind, they +said! But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, and, my dear, +that's pretty sane, I'll have you remember. But he must have suffered some +terrible blight to his spirit--some blunting of his soul. For months after +he returned he walked as one in a trance. Then came a change. He grew +restless. Perhaps that change was for the better. At least it showed he'd +roused. Glenn saw you and your friends and the life you lead, and all the +present, with eyes from which the scales had dropped. He saw what was +wrong. He never said so to me, but I knew it. It wasn't only to get well +that he went West. It was to get away. . . . And, Carley Burch, if your +happiness depends on him you had better be up and doing--or you'll lose +him!" + +"Aunt Mary!" gasped Carley. + +"I mean it. That letter shows how near he came to the Valley of the +Shadow--and how he has become a man. . . . If I were you I'd go out West. +Surely there must be a place where it would be all right for you to stay." + +"Oh, yes," replied Carley, eagerly. "Glenn wrote me there was a lodge where +people went in nice weather--right down in the canyon not far from his +place. Then, of course, the town--Flagstaff--isn't far. . . . Aunt Mary, I +think I'll go." + +"I would. You're certainly wasting your time here." + +"But I could only go for a visit," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. "A month, +perhaps six weeks, if I could stand it." + +"Seems to me if you can stand New York you could stand that place," said +Aunt Mary, dryly. + +"The idea of staying away from New York any length of time--why, I couldn't +do it I . . . But I can stay out there long enough to bring Glenn back with +me." + +"That may take you longer than you think," replied her aunt, with a gleam +in her shrewd eyes. "If you want my advice you will surprise Glenn. Don't +write him--don't give him a chance to--well to suggest courteously that +you'd better not come just yet. I don't like his words 'just yet.'" + +"Auntie, you're--rather--more than blunt," said Carley, divided between +resentment and amaze. "Glenn would be simply wild to have me come." + +"Maybe he would. Has he ever asked you?" + +"No-o--come to think of it, he hasn't," replied Carley, reluctantly. "Aunt +Mary, you hurt my feelings." + +"Well, child, I'm glad to learn your feelings are hurt," returned the aunt. +"I'm sure, Carley, that underneath all this--this blase ultra something +you've acquired, there's a real heart. Only you must hurry and listen to +it--or--" + +"Or what?" queried Carley. + +Aunt Mary shook her gray head sagely. "Never mind what. Carley, I'd like +your idea of the most significant thing in Glenn's letter." + +"Why, his love for me, of course!" replied Carley. + +"Naturally you think that. But I don't. What struck me most were his words, +'out of the West.' Carley, you'd do well to ponder over them." + +"I will," rejoined Carley, positively. "I'll do more. I'll go out to his +wonderful West and see what he meant by them." + +Carley Burch possessed in full degree the prevailing modern craze for +speed. She loved a motor-car ride at sixty miles an hour along a smooth, +straight road, or, better, on the level seashore of Ormond, where on +moonlight nights the white blanched sand seemed to flash toward her. +Therefore quite to her taste was the Twentieth Century Limited which was +hurtling her on the way to Chicago. The unceasingly smooth and even rush of +the train satisfied something in her. An old lady sitting in an adjoining +seat with a companion amused Carley by the remark: "I wish we didn't go so +fast. People nowadays haven't time to draw a comfortable breath. Suppose we +should run off the track!" + +Carley had no fear of express trains, or motor cars, or transatlantic +liners; in fact, she prided herself in not being afraid of anything. But +she wondered if this was not the false courage of association with a crowd. +Before this enterprise at hand she could not remember anything she had +undertaken alone. Her thrills seemed to be in abeyance to the end of her +journey. That night her sleep was permeated with the steady low whirring of +the wheels. Once, roused by a jerk, she lay awake in the darkness while the +thought came to her that she and all her fellow passengers were really at +the mercy of the engineer. Who was he, and did he stand at his throttle +keen and vigilant, thinking of the lives intrusted to him? Such thoughts +vaguely annoyed Carley, and she dismissed them. + +A long half-day wait in Chicago was a tedious preliminary to the second +part of her journey. But at last she found herself aboard the California +Limited, and went to bed with a relief quite a stranger to her. The glare +of the sun under the curtain awakened her. Propped up on her pillows, she +looked out at apparently endless green fields or pastures, dotted now and +then with little farmhouses and tree-skirted villages. This country, she +thought, must be the prairie land she remembered lay west of the +Mississippi. + +Later, in the dining car, the steward smilingly answered her question: +"This is Kansas, and those green fields out there are the wheat that feeds +the nation." + +Carley was not impressed. The color of the short wheat appeared soft and +rich, and the boundless fields stretched away monotonously. She had not +known there was so much flat land in the world, and she imagined it might +be a fine country for automobile roads. When she got back to her seat she +drew the blinds down and read her magazines. Then tiring of that, she went +back to the observation car. Carley was accustomed to attracting attention, +and did not resent it, unless she was annoyed. The train evidently had a +full complement of passengers, who, as far as Carley could see, were people +not of her station in life. The glare from the many windows, and the rather +crass interest of several men, drove her back to her own section. There she +discovered that some one had drawn up her window shades. Carley promptly +pulled them down and settled herself comfortably. Then she heard a woman +speak, not particularly low: "I thought people traveled west to see the +country." And a man replied, rather dryly. "Wal, not always." His companion +went on: "If that girl was mine I'd let down her skirt." The man laughed +and replied: "Martha, you're shore behind the times. Look at the pictures +in the magazines." + +Such remarks amused Carley, and later she took advantage of an opportunity +to notice her neighbors. They appeared a rather quaint old couple, +reminding her of the natives of country towns in the Adirondacks. She was +not amused, however, when another of her woman neighbors, speaking low, +referred to her as a "lunger." Carley appreciated the fact that she was +pale, but she assured herself that there ended any possible resemblance she +might have to a consumptive. And she was somewhat pleased to hear this +woman's male companion forcibly voice her own convictions. In fact, he was +nothing if not admiring. + +Kansas was interminably long to Carley, and she went to sleep before riding +out of it. Next morning she found herself looking out at the rough gray and +black land of New Mexico. She searched the horizon for mountains, but there +did not appear to be any. She received a vague, slow-dawning impression +that was hard to define. She did not like the country, though that was not +the impression which eluded her. Bare gray flats, low scrub-fringed hills, +bleak cliffs, jumble after jumble of rocks, and occasionally a long vista +down a valley, somehow compelling--these passed before her gaze until she +tired of them. Where was the West Glenn had written about? One thing seemed +sure, and it was that every mile of this crude country brought her nearer +to him. This recurring thought gave Carley all the pleasure she had felt so +far in this endless ride. It struck her that England or France could be +dropped down into New Mexico and scarcely noticed. + +By and by the sun grew hot, the train wound slowly and creakingly upgrade, +the car became full of dust, all of which was disagreeable to Carley. She +dozed on her pillow for hours, until she was stirred by a passenger crying +out, delightedly: "Look! Indians!" + +Carley looked, not without interest. As a child she had read about Indians, +and memory returned images both colorful and romantic. From the car window +she espied dusty flat barrens, low squat mud houses, and queer-looking +little people, children naked or extremely ragged and dirty, women in loose +garments with flares of red, and men in white man's garb, slovenly and +motley. All these strange individuals stared apathetically as the train +slowly passed. + +"Indians," muttered Carley, incredulously. "Well, if they are the noble red +people, my illusions are dispelled." She did not look out of the window +again, not even when the brakeman called out the remarkable name of +Albuquerque. + +Next day Carley's languid attention quickened to the name of Arizona, and +to the frowning red walls of rock, and to the vast rolling stretches of +cedar-dotted land. Nevertheless, it affronted her. This was no country for +people to live in, and so far as she could see it was indeed uninhabited. +Her sensations were not, however, limited to sight. She became aware of +unfamiliar disturbing little shocks or vibrations in her ear drums, and +after that a disagreeable bleeding of the nose. The porter told her this +was owing to the altitude. Thus, one thing and another kept Carley most of +the time away from the window, so that she really saw very little of the +country. From what she had seen she drew the conviction that she had not +missed much. At sunset she deliberately gazed out to discover what an +Arizona sunset was like just a pale yellow flare! She had seen better than +that above the Palisades. Not until reaching Winslow did she realize how +near she was to her journey's end and that she would arrive at Flagstaff +after dark. She grew conscious of nervousness. Suppose Flagstaff were like +these other queer little towns! + +Not only once, but several times before the train slowed down for her +destination did Carley wish she had sent Glenn word to meet her. And when, +presently, she found herself standing out in the dark, cold, windy night +before a dim-lit railroad station she more than regretted her decision to +surprise Glenn. But that was too late and she must make the best of her +poor judgment. + +Men were passing to and fro on the platform, some of whom appeared to be +very dark of skin and eye, and were probably Mexicans. At length an +expressman approached Carley, soliciting patronage. He took her bags and, +depositing them in a wagon, he pointed up the wide street: "One block up +an' turn. Hotel Wetherford." Then he drove off. Carley followed, carrying +her small satchel. A cold wind, driving the dust, stung her face as she +crossed the street to a high sidewalk that extended along the block. There +were lights in the stores and on the corners, yet she seemed impressed by a +dark, cold, windy bigness. Many people, mostly men, were passing up and +down, and there were motor cars everywhere. No one paid any attention to +her. Gaining the corner of the block, she turned, and was relieved to see +the hotel sign. As she entered the lobby a clicking of pool balls and the +discordant rasp of a phonograph assailed her ears. The expressman set down +her bags and left Carley standing there. The clerk or proprietor was +talking from behind his desk to several men, and there were loungers in the +lobby. The air was thick with tobacco smoke. No one paid any attention to +Carley until at length she stepped up to the desk and interrupted the +conversation there. + +"Is this a hotel?" she queried, brusquely. + +The shirt-sleeved individual leisurely turned and replied, "Yes, ma'am." + +And Carley said: "No one would recognize it by the courtesy shown. I have +been standing here waiting to register." + +With the same leisurely case and a cool, laconic stare the clerk turned the +book toward her. "Reckon people round here ask for what they want." + +Carley made no further comment. She assuredly recognized that what she had +been accustomed to could not be expected out here. What she most wished to +do at the moment was to get close to the big open grate where a cheery red- +and-gold fire cracked. It was necessary, however, to follow the clerk. He +assigned her to a small drab room which contained a bed, a bureau, and a +stationary washstand with one spigot. There was also a chair. While Carley +removed her coat and hat the clerk went downstairs for the rest of her +luggage. Upon his return Carley learned that a stage left the hotel for Oak +Creek Canyon at nine o'clock next morning. And this cheered her so much +that she faced the strange sense of loneliness and discomfort with +something of fortitude. There was no heat in the room, and no hot water. +When Carley squeezed the spigot handle there burst forth a torrent of water +that spouted up out of the washbasin to deluge her. It was colder than any +ice water she had ever felt. It was piercingly cold. Hard upon the surprise +and shock Carley suffered a flash of temper. But then the humor of it +struck her and she had to laugh. + +"Serves you right--you spoiled doll of luxury!" she mocked. "This is out +West. Shiver and wait on yourself!" + +Never before had she undressed so swiftly nor felt grateful for thick +woollen blankets on a hard bed. Gradually she grew warm. The blackness, +too, seemed rather comforting. + +"I'm only twenty miles from Glenn," she whispered. "How strange! I wonder +will he be glad." She felt a sweet, glowing assurance of that. Sleep did +not come readily. Excitement had laid hold of her nerves, and for a long +time she lay awake. After a while the chug of motor cars, the click of pool +balls, the murmur of low voices all ceased. Then she heard a sound of wind +outside, an intermittent, low moaning, new to her ears, and somehow +pleasant. Another sound greeted her--the musical clanging of a clock that +struck the quarters of the hour. Some time late sleep claimed her. + +Upon awakening she found she had overslept, necessitating haste upon her +part. As to that, the temperature of the room did not admit of leisurely +dressing. She had no adequate name for the feeling of the water. And her +fingers grew so numb that she made what she considered a disgraceful matter +of her attire. + +Downstairs in the lobby another cheerful red fire burned in the grate. How +perfectly satisfying was an open fireplace! She thrust her numb hands +almost into the blaze, and simply shook with the tingling pain that slowly +warmed out of them. The lobby was deserted. A sign directed her to a dining +room in the basement, where of the ham and eggs and strong coffee she +managed to partake a little. Then she went upstairs into the lobby and out +into the street. + +A cold, piercing air seemed to blow right through her. Walking to the near +corner, she paused to look around. Down the main street flowed a leisurely +stream of pedestrians, horses, cars, extending between two blocks of low +buildings. Across from where she stood lay a vacant lot, beyond which began +a line of neat, oddly constructed houses, evidently residences of the town. +And then lifting her gaze, instinctively drawn by something obstructing the +sky line, she was suddenly struck with surprise and delight. + +"Oh! how perfectly splendid!" she burst out. + +Two magnificent mountains loomed right over her, sloping up with majestic +sweep of green and black timber, to a ragged tree-fringed snow area that +swept up cleaner and whiter, at last to lift pure glistening peaks, noble +and sharp, and sunrise-flushed against the blue. + +Carley had climbed Mont Blanc and she had seen the Matterhorn, but they had +never struck such amaze and admiration from her as these twin peaks of her +native land. + +"What mountains are those?" she asked a passer-by. + +"San Francisco Peaks, ma'am," replied the man. + +"Why, they can't be over a mile away!" she said. + +"Eighteen miles, ma'am," he returned, with a grin. "Shore this Arizonie air +is deceivin'." + +"How strange," murmured Carley. "It's not that way in the Adirondacks." + +She was still gazing upward when a man approached her and said the stage +for Oak Creek Canyon would soon be ready to start, and he wanted to know if +her baggage was ready. Carley hurried back to her room to pack. + +She had expected the stage would be a motor bus, or at least a large +touring car, but it turned out to be a two-seated vehicle drawn by a team +of ragged horses. The driver was a little wizen-faced man of doubtful +years, and he did not appear obviously susceptible to the importance of +his passenger. There was considerable freight to be hauled, besides +Carley's luggage, but evidently she was the only passenger. + +"Reckon it's goin' to be a bad day," said the driver. "These April days +high up on the desert are windy an' cold. Mebbe it'll snow, too. Them +clouds hangin' around the peaks ain't very promisin'. Now, miss, haven't +you a heavier coat or somethin'?" + +"No, I have not," replied Carley. "I'll have to stand it. Did you say this +was desert?" + +"I shore did. Wal, there's a hoss blanket under the seat, an' you can have +that," he replied, and, climbing to the seat in front of Carley, he took up +the reins and started the horses off at a trot. + +At the first turning Carley became specifically acquainted with the +driver's meaning of a bad day. A gust of wind, raw and penetrating, laden +with dust and stinging sand, swept full in her face. It came so suddenly +that she was scarcely quick enough to close her eyes. It took considerable +clumsy effort on her part with a handkerchief, aided by relieving tears, to +clear her sight again. Thus uncomfortably Carley found herself launched on +the last lap of her journey. + +All before her and alongside lay the squalid environs of the town. Looked +back at, with the peaks rising behind, it was not unpicturesque. But the +hard road with its sheets of flying dust, the bleak railroad yards, the +round pens she took for cattle corrals, and the sordid debris littering the +approach to a huge sawmill,--these were offensive in Carley's sight. From a +tall dome-like stack rose a yellowish smoke that spread overhead, adding to +the lowering aspect of the sky. Beyond the sawmill extended the open +country sloping somewhat roughly, and evidently once a forest, but now a +hideous bare slash, with ghastly burned stems of trees still standing, and +myriads of stumps attesting to denudation. + +The bleak road wound away to the southwest, and from this direction came +the gusty wind. It did not blow regularly so that Carley could be on her +guard. It lulled now and then, permitting her to look about, and then +suddenly again whipping dust into her face. The smell of the dust was as +unpleasant as the sting. It made her nostrils smart. It was penetrating, +and a little more of it would have been suffocating. And as a leaden gray +bank of broken clouds rolled up the wind grew stronger and the air colder. +Chilled before, Carley now became thoroughly cold. + +There appeared to be no end to the devastated forest land, and the farther +she rode the more barren and sordid grew the landscape. Carley forgot about +the impressive mountains behind her. And as the ride wore into hours, such +was her discomfort and disillusion that she forgot about Glenn Kilbourne. +She did not reach the point of regretting her adventure, but she grew +mightily unhappy. Now and then she espied dilapidated log cabins and +surroundings even more squalid than the ruined forest. What wretched +abodes! Could it be possible that people had lived in them? She imagined +men had but hardly women and children. Somewhere she had forgotten an idea +that women and children were extremely scarce in the West. + +Straggling bits of forest--yellow pines, the driver called the trees--began +to encroach upon the burned-over and arid barren land. To Carley these +groves, by reason of contrast and proof of what once was, only rendered the +landscape more forlorn and dreary. Why had these miles and miles of forest +been cut? By money grubbers, she supposed, the same as were devastating the +Adirondacks. Presently, when the driver had to halt to repair or adjust +something wrong with the harness, Carley was grateful for a respite from +cold inaction. She got out and walked. Sleet began to fall, and when she +resumed her seat in the vehicle she asked the driver for the blanket to +cover her. The smell of this horse blanket was less endurable than the +cold. Carley huddled down into a state of apathetic misery. Already she had +enough of the West. + +But the sleet storm passed, the clouds broke, the sun shone through, +greatly mitigating her discomfort. By and by the road led into a section of +real forest, unspoiled in any degree. Carley saw large gray squirrels with +tufted ears and white bushy tails. Presently the driver pointed out a flock +of huge birds, which Carley, on second glance, recognized as turkeys, only +these were sleek and glossy, with flecks of bronze and black and white, +quite different from turkeys back East. "There must be a farm near," said +Carley, gazing about. + +"No, ma'am. Them's wild turkeys," replied the driver, "an' shore the best +eatin' you ever had in your life." + +A little while afterwards, as they were emerging from the woodland into +more denuded country, he pointed out to Carley a herd of gray white-rumped +animals that she took to be sheep. + +"An' them's antelope," he said. "Once this desert was overrun by antelope. +Then they nearly disappeared. An' now they're increasin' again." + +More barren country, more bad weather, and especially an exceedingly rough +road reduced Carley to her former state of dejection. The jolting over +roots and rocks and ruts was worse than uncomfortable. She had to hold on +to the seat to keep from being thrown out. The horses did not appreciably +change their gait for rough sections of the road. Then a more severe jolt +brought Carley's knee in violent contact with an iron bolt on the forward +seat, and it hurt her so acutely that she had to bite her lips to keep from +screaming. A smoother stretch of road did not come any too soon for her. + +It led into forest again. And Carley soon became aware that they had at +last left the cut and burned-over district of timberland behind. A cold +wind moaned through the treetops and set the drops of water pattering down +upon her. It lashed her wet face. Carley closed her eyes and sagged in her +seat, mostly oblivious to the passing scenery. "The girls will never +believe this of me," she soliloquized. And indeed she was amazed at +herself. Then thought of Glenn strengthened her. It did not really matter +what she suffered on the way to him. Only she was disgusted at her lack of +stamina, and her appalling sensitiveness to discomfort. + +"Wal, hyar's Oak Creek Canyon," called the driver. + +Carley, rousing out of her weary preoccupation, opened her eyes to see that +the driver had halted at a turn of the road, where apparently it descended +a fearful declivity. + +The very forest-fringed earth seemed to have opened into a deep abyss, +ribbed by red rock walls and choked by steep mats of green timber. The +chasm was a V-shaped split and so deep that looking downward sent at once a +chill and a shudder over Carley. At that point it appeared narrow and ended +in a box. In the other direction, it widened and deepened, and stretched +farther on between tremendous walls of red, and split its winding floor of +green with glimpses of a gleaming creek, bowlder-strewn and ridged by white +rapids. A low mellow roar of rushing waters floated up to Carley's ears. +What a wild, lonely, terrible place! Could Glenn possibly live down there +in that ragged rent in the earth? It frightened her--the sheer sudden +plunge of it from the heights. Far down the gorge a purple light shone on +the forested floor. And on the moment the sun burst through the clouds and +sent a golden blaze down into the depths, transforming them incalculably. +The great cliffs turned gold, the creek changed to glancing silver, the +green of trees vividly freshened, and in the clefts rays of sunlight burned +into the blue shadows. Carley had never gazed upon a scene like this. +Hostile and prejudiced, she yet felt wrung from her an acknowledgment of +beauty and grandeur. But wild, violent, savage! Not livable! This insulated +rift in the crust of the earth was a gigantic burrow for beasts, perhaps +for outlawed men--not for a civilized person--not for Glenn Kilbourne. + +"Don't be scart, ma'am," spoke up the driver. "It's safe if you're careful. +An' I've druv this manys the time." + +Carley's heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted +assurance of fearlessness. Then the rickety vehicle started down at an +angle that forced her to cling to her seat. + + +CHAPTER II + +Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin, gazed in +fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes the wheels on +that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the edge. The brakes +squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the scrape of the iron-shod +hoofs of the horses as they held back stiff legged, obedient to the wary +call of the driver. + +The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff appeared to +be the worst. It began to widen, with descents less precipitous. Tips of +trees rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight of the blue depths. Then +brush appeared on each side of the road. Gradually Carley's strain relaxed, +and also the muscular contraction by which she had braced herself in the +seat. The horses began to trot again. The wheels rattled. The road wound +around abrupt corners, and soon the green and red wall of the opposite side +of the canyon loomed close. Low roar of running water rose to Carley's +ears. When at length she looked out instead of down she could see nothing +but a mass of green foliage crossed by tree trunks and branches of brown +and gray. Then the vehicle bowled under dark cool shade, into a tunnel with +mossy wet cliff on one side, and close-standing trees on the other. + +"Reckon we're all right now, onless we meet somebody comin' up," declared +the driver. + +Carley relaxed. She drew a deep breath of relief. She had her first faint +intimation that perhaps her extensive experience of motor cars, express +trains, transatlantic liners, and even a little of airplanes, did not range +over the whole of adventurous life. She was likely to meet something, +entirely new and striking out here in the West. + +The murmur of falling water sounded closer. Presently Carley saw that the +road turned at the notch in the canyon, and crossed a clear swift stream. +Here were huge mossy boulders, and red walls covered by lichens, and the +air appeared dim and moist, and full of mellow, hollow roar. Beyond this +crossing the road descended the west side of the canyon, drawing away and +higher from the creek. Huge trees, the like of which Carley had never seen, +began to stand majestically up out of the gorge, dwarfing the maples and +white-spotted sycamores. The driver called these great trees yellow pines. + +At last the road led down from the steep slope to the floor of the canyon. +What from far above had appeared only a green timber-choked cleft proved +from close relation to be a wide winding valley, tip and down, densely +forested for the most part, yet having open glades and bisected from wall +to wall by the creek. Every quarter of a mile or so the road crossed the +stream; and at these fords Carley again held on desperately and gazed out +dubiously, for the creek was deep, swift, and full of bowlders. Neither +driver nor horses appeared to mind obstacles. Carley was splashed and +jolted not inconsiderably. They passed through groves of oak trees, from +which the creek manifestly derived its name; and under gleaming walls, +cold, wet, gloomy, and silent; and between lines of solemn wide-spreading +pines. Carley saw deep, still green pools eddying under huge massed jumble +of cliffs, and stretches of white water, and then, high above the treetops, +a wild line of canyon rim, cold against the sky. She felt shut in from the +world, lost in an unscalable rut of the earth. Again the sunlight had +failed, and the gray gloom of the canyon oppressed her. It struck Carley as +singular that she could not help being affected by mere weather, mere +heights and depths, mere rock walls and pine trees, and rushing water. For +really, what had these to do with her? These were only physical things that +she was passing. Nevertheless, although she resisted sensation, she was +more and more shot through and through with the wildness and savageness of +this canyon. + +A sharp turn of the road to the right disclosed a slope down the creek, +across which showed orchards and fields, and a cottage nestling at the base +of the wall. The ford at this crossing gave Carley more concern than any +that had been passed, for there was greater volume and depth of water. One +of the horses slipped on the rocks, plunged up and on with great splash. +They crossed, however, without more mishap to Carley than further +acquaintance with this iciest of waters. From this point the driver turned +back along the creek, passed between orchards and fields, and drove along +the base of the red wall to come suddenly upon a large rustic house that +had been hidden from Carley's sight. It sat almost against the stone cliff, +from which poured a white foamy sheet of water. The house was built of +slabs with the bark on, and it had a lower and upper porch running all +around, at least as far as the cliff. Green growths from the rock wall +overhung the upper porch. A column of blue smoke curled lazily upward from +a stone chimney. On one of the porch posts hung a sign with rude lettering: +"Lolomi Lodge." + +"Hey, Josh, did you fetch the flour?" called a woman's voice from inside. + +"Hullo I Reckon I didn't forgit nothin'," replied the man, as he got down. +"An' say, Mrs. Hutter, hyar's a young lady from Noo Yorrk." + +That latter speech of the driver's brought Mrs. Hutter out on the porch. +"Flo, come here," she called to some one evidently near at hand. And then +she smilingly greeted Carley. + +"Get down an' come in, miss," she said. "I'm sure glad to see you." + +Carley, being stiff and cold, did not very gracefully disengage herself +from the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch she saw +that Mrs. Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, with strong face +full of fine wavy lines, and kind dark eyes. + +"I'm Miss Burch," said Carley. + +"You're the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace," +declared the woman, heartily. "I'm sure glad to meet you, an' my daughter +Flo will be, too." + +That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. "Yes, I'm Glenn +Kilbourne's fiancee. I've come West to surprise him. Is he here. . . . Is-- +is he well?" + +"Fine. I saw him yesterday. He's changed a great deal from what he was at +first. Most all the last few months. I reckon you won't know him. . . . But +you're wet an' cold an' you look fagged. Come right in to the fire." + +"Thank you; I'm all right," returned Carley. + +At the doorway they encountered a girl of lithe and robust figure, quick in +her movements. Carley was swift to see the youth and grace of her; and then +a face that struck Carley as neither pretty nor beautiful, but still +wonderfully attractive. + +"Flo, here's Miss Burch," burst out Mrs. Hutter, with cheerful importance. +"Glenn Kilbourne's girl come all the way from New York to surprise him!" + +"Oh, Carley, I'm shore happy to meet you!" said the girl, in a voice of +slow drawling richness. "I know you. Glenn has told me all about you." + +If this greeting, sweet and warm as it seemed, was a shock to Carley, she +gave no sign. But as she murmured something in reply she looked with all a +woman's keenness into the face before her. Flo Hutter had a fair skin +generously freckled; a mouth and chin too firmly cut to suggest a softer +feminine beauty; and eyes of clear light hazel, penetrating, frank, +fearless. Her hair was very abundant, almost silver-gold in color, and it +was either rebellious or showed lack of care. Carley liked the girl's looks +and liked the sincerity of her greeting; but instinctively she reacted +antagonistically because of the frank suggestion of intimacy with Glenn. + +But for that she would have been spontaneous and friendly rather than +restrained. + +They ushered Carley into a big living room and up to a fire of blazing +logs, where they helped divest her of the wet wraps. And all the time they +talked in the solicitous way natural to women who were kind and unused to +many visitors. Then Mrs. Hutter bustled off to make a cup of hot coffee +while Flo talked. + +"We'll shore give you the nicest room--with a sleeping porch right under the +cliff where the water falls. It'll sing you to sleep. Of course you needn't +use the bed outdoors until it's warmer. Spring is late here, you know, and +we'll have nasty weather yet. You really happened on Oak Creek at its least +attractive season. But then it's always--well, just Oak Creek. You'll come +to know." + +"I dare say I'll remember my first sight of it and the ride down that cliff +road," said Carley, with a wan smile. + +"Oh, that's nothing to what you'll see and do," returned Flo, knowingly. +"We've had Eastern tenderfeet here before. And never was there a one of +them who didn't come to love Arizona." + +"Tenderfoot! It hadn't occurred to me. But of course--" murmured Carley. + +Then Mrs. Hutter returned, carrying a tray, which she set upon a chair, and +drew to Carley's side. "Eat an' drink," she said, as if these actions were +the cardinally important ones of life. "Flo, you carry her bags up to that +west room we always give to some particular person we want to love Lolomi." +Next she threw sticks of wood upon the fire, making it crackle and blaze, +then seated herself near Carley and beamed upon her. + +"You'll not mind if we call you Carley?" she asked, eagerly. + +"Oh, indeed no! I--I'd like it," returned Carley, made to feel friendly and +at home in spite of herself. + +"You see it's not as if you were just a stranger," went on Mrs. Hutter. +"Tom--that's Flo's father--took a likin' to Glenn Kilbourne when he first +came to Oak Creek over a year ago. I wonder if you all know how sick that +soldier boy was. . . . Well, he lay on his back for two solid weeks--in the +room we're givin' you. An' I for one didn't think he'd ever get up. But he +did. An' he got better. An' after a while he went to work for Tom. Then six +months an' more ago he invested in the sheep business with Tom. He lived +with us until he built his cabin up West Fork. He an' Flo have run together +a good deal, an' naturally he told her about you. So you see you're not a +stranger. An' we want you to feel you're with friends." + +"I thank you, Mrs. Hutter," replied Carley, feelingly. "I never could thank +you enough for being good to Glenn. I did not know he was so--so sick. At +first he wrote but seldom." + +"Reckon he never wrote you or told you what he did in the war," declared +Mrs. Hutter. + +"Indeed he never did!" + +"Well, I'll tell you some day. For Tom found out all about him. Got some of +it from a soldier who came to Flagstaff for lung trouble. He'd been in the +same company with Glenn. We didn't know this boy's name while he was in +Flagstaff. But later Tom found out. John Henderson. He was only twenty-two, +a fine lad. An' he died in Phoenix. We tried to get him out here. But the +boy wouldn't live on charity. He was always expectin' money--a war bonus, +whatever that was. It didn't come. He was a clerk at the El Tovar for a +while. Then he came to Flagstaff. But it was too cold an' he stayed there +too long." + +"Too bad," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to the +suffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few months, +and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress Carley. Always she +had turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery of unfortunates was as +disturbing almost as direct contact with disease and squalor. But it had +begun to dawn upon Carley that there might occur circumstances of life, in +every way affronting her comfort and happiness, which it would be impossible +to turn her back upon. + +At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struck with +the girl's singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure poise and joy +that seemed to emanate from her presence. + +"I've made a fire in your little stove," she said. "There's water heating. +Now won't you come up and change those traveling clothes. You'll want to +fix up for Glenn, won't you?" + +Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank and unsophisticated, +and somehow refreshing. Carley rose. + +"You are both very good to receive me as a friend," she said. "I hope I +shall not disappoint you. . . . Yes, I do want to improve my appearance +before Glenn sees me. . . . Is there any way I can send word to him--by +someone who has not seen me?" + +"There shore is. I'll send Charley, one of our hired boys." + +"Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York to see +him, and it is very important." + +Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gave +Carley a little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust and stifling +thing. + +Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallway to a +room that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of falling water +assailed her ears. Through the open door she saw across the porch to a +white tumbling lacy veil of water falling, leaping, changing, so close that +it seemed to touch the heavy pole railing of the porch. + +This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no ceiling. +But the roughhewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped down closely. +The furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the floor. The bed with +its woolly clean blankets and the white pillows looked inviting. + +"Is this where Glenn lay--when he was sick?" queried Carley. + +"Yes," replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. "I ought to +tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made unhappy +now. . . . Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his side--for a +while there--when life was so bad." + +She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short billets of +wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep an eye on it so +that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to herself. + +Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of her heart +every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon now to be, but it +was not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have a difficult approach +to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was so different from her regular +life. Besides she was tired. But these explanations did not suffice. There +was a pang in her breast which must owe its origin to the fact that Glenn +Kilbourne had been ill in this little room and some other girl than Carley +Burch had nursed him. "Am I jealous?" she whispered. "No!" But she knew in +her heart that she lied. A woman could no more help being jealous, under +such circumstances, than she could help the beat and throb of her blood. +Nevertheless, Carley was glad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she +would be grateful to her for that kindness. + +Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bags and +hung her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then she lay down to +rest, with no intention of slumber. But there was a strange magic in the +fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in the feel of the +bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur of the waterfall. She +fell asleep. When she awakened it was five o'clock. The fire in the stove +was out, but the water was still warm. She bathed and dressed, not without +care, yet as swiftly as was her habit at home; and she wore white because +Glenn had always liked her best in white. But it was assuredly not a gown +to wear in a country house where draughts of cold air filled the unheated +rooms and halls. So she threw round her a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful +bars becoming to her dark eyes and hair. + +All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be +permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of +waking life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, could be +wholly free of that sound. It vaguely tormented Carley, yet was not +uncomfortable. She went out upon the porch. The small alcove space held a +bed and a rustic chair. Above her the peeled poles of the roof descended to +within a few feet of her head. She had to lean over the rail of the porch +to look up. The green and red rock wall sheered ponderously near. The +waterfall showed first at the notch of a fissure, where the cliff split; +and down over smooth places the water gleamed, to narrow in a crack with +little drops, and suddenly to leap into a thin white sheet. + +Out from the porch the view was restricted to glimpses between the pines, +and beyond to the opposite wall of the canyon. How shut-in, how walled in +this home! + +"In summer it might be good to spend a couple of weeks here," soliloquized +Carley. "But to live here? Heavens! A person might as well be buried." + +Heavy footsteps upon the porch below accompanied by a man's voice quickened +Carley's pulse. Did they belong to Glenn? After a strained second she +decided not. Nevertheless, the acceleration of her blood and an unwonted +glow of excitement, long a stranger to her, persisted as she left the porch +and entered the boarded hall. How gray and barn-like this upper part of the +house! From the head of the stairway, however, the big living room +presented a cheerful contrast. There were warm colors, some comfortable +rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and an open fire which alone +would have dispelled the raw gloom of the day. + +A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had a +clean-shaven face that might have been hard and stern but for his smile, +and one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo's. + +"I'm Tom Hutter, an' I'm shore glad to welcome you to Lolomi, Miss Carley," +he said. His voice was deep and slow. There were ease and force in his +presence, and the grip he gave Carley's hand was that of a man who made no +distinction in hand-shaking. Carley, quick in her perceptions, instantly +liked him and sensed in him a strong personality. She greeted him in turn +and expressed her thanks for his goodness to Glenn. Naturally Carley +expected him to say something about her fiance, but he did not. + +"Well, Miss Carley, if you don't mind, I'll say you're prettier than your +picture," said Hutter. "An' that is shore sayin' a lot. All the sheep +herders in the country have taken a peep at your picture. Without +permission, you understand." + +"I'm greatly flattered," laughed Carley. + +"We're glad you've come," replied Hutter, simply. "I just got back from the +East myself. Chicago an' Kansas City. I came to Arizona from Illinois over +thirty years ago. An' this was my first trip since. Reckon I've not got +back my breath yet. Times have changed, Miss Carley. Times an' people!" + +Mrs. Hutter bustled in from the kitchen, where manifestly she had been +importantly engaged. "For the land's sakes!" she exclaimed, fervently, as +she threw up her hands at sight of Carley. Her expression was indeed a +compliment, but there was a suggestion of shock in it. Then Flo came in. +She wore a simple gray gown that reached the top of her high shoes. + +"Carley, don't mind mother," said Flo. "She means your dress is lovely. +Which is my say, too. . . . But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin' up the +road." + +Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tall +man striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was his +walk--an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible. She +recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. She watched +him cross the road, face the house. How changed! No--this was not Glenn +Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughly garbed, heavy +limbed, quite different from the Glenn she remembered. He mounted the porch +steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face. Yes--Glenn! Hot +blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins. Wheeling away, she +backed against the wall behind the door and held up a warning finger to +Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then, to see something in +Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman in only one way! + +A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted. + +"Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly. + +His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley's ears +as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled out that she +did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably changed--not in the +regularity of feature that had been its chief charm, but in contour of +cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line. Carley's heart swelled +with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see the sad fixed hopelessness, +the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore the restraint and nonchalance upon +which Carley prided herself sustained eclipse. + +"Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could not have +steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had anticipated. + +Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then--no matter how +unreasonable or exacting had been Carley's longings, they were satisfied. + +"You!" he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face. + +Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but +forgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than the all- +satisfying assurance to her woman's heart that she was still beloved, +welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook her to her depths. +It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and to the West that had +restored him. + +"Carley! I couldn't believe it was you," he declared, releasing her from +his close embrace, yet still holding her. + +"Yes, Glenn--it's I--all you've left of me," she replied, tremulously, and +she sought with unsteady hands to put up her dishevelled hair. "You--you big +sheep herder! You Goliath!" + +"I never was so knocked off my pins," he said. "A lady to see me--from New +York! . . . Of course it had to be you. But I couldn't believe. Carley, you +were good to come." + +Somehow the soft, warm look of his dark eyes hurt her. New and strange +indeed it was to her, as were other things about him. Why had she not come +West sooner? She disengaged herself from his hold and moved away, striving +for the composure habitual with her. Flo Hutter was standing before the +fire, looking down. Mrs. Hutter beamed upon Carley. + +"Now let's have supper," she said. + +"Reckon Miss Carley can't eat now, after that hug Glenn gave her," drawled +Tom Hutter. "I was some worried. You see Glenn has gained seventy pounds in +six months. An' he doesn't know his strength." + +"Seventy pounds!" exclaimed Carley, gayly. "I thought it was more." + +"Carley, you must excuse my violence," said Glenn. "I've been hugging +sheep. That is, when I shear a sheep I have to hold him." + +They all laughed, and so the moment of readjustment passed. Presently +Carley found herself sitting at table, directly across from Flo. A pearly +whiteness was slowly warming out of the girl's face. Her frank clear eyes +met Carley's and they had nothing to hide. Carley's first requisite for +character in a woman was that she be a thoroughbred. She lacked it often +enough herself to admire it greatly in another woman. And that moment saw a +birth of respect and sincere liking in her for this Western girl. If Flo +Hutter ever was a rival she would be an honest one. + +Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he "reckoned on +general principles it was his hunch to go to bed." Mrs. Hutter suddenly +discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her cool sweet +drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, "Shore you two will want to +spoon." + +"Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for that," +declared Glenn. + +"Too bad! Reckon I can't see how love could ever be old-fashioned. Good +night, Glenn. Good night, Carley." + +Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the light from +the lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to Carley. It +expressed unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up the stairs to +disappear. + +"Glenn, is that girl in love with you?" asked Carley, bluntly. + +To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilled her, +yet nettled her a little. + +"If that isn't like you!" he ejaculated. "Your very first words after we +are left alone! It brings back the East, Carley." + +"Probably recall to memory will be good for you," returned Carley. "But +tell me. Is she in love with you?" + +"Why, no, certainly not!" replied Glenn. "Anyway, how could I answer such a +question? It just made me laugh, that's all." + +"Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a pretty +girl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle--before we became engaged," +said Carley. + +"Old times! How long ago they seem! . . . Carley, it's sure wonderful to +see you." + +"How do you like my gown?" asked Carley, pirouetting for his benefit. + +"Well, what little there is of it is beautiful," he replied, with a slow +smile. "I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?" + +"Yes. I got the gown for you. And I'll never wear it except for you." + +"Same old coquette--same old eternal feminine," he said, half sadly. "You +know when you look stunning. . . . But, Carley, the cut of that--or rather +the abbreviation of it--inclines me to think that style for women's clothes +has not changed for the better. In fact, it's worse than two years ago in +Paris and later in New York. Where will you women draw the line?" + +"Women are slaves to the prevailing mode," rejoined Carley. "I don't +imagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion went on +dictating." + +"But would they care so much--if they had to work--plenty of work--and +children?" inquired Glenn, wistfully. + +"Glenn! Work and children for modern women? Why, you are dreaming!" said +Carley, with a laugh. + +She saw him gaze thoughtfully into the glowing embers of the fire, and as +she watched him her quick intuition grasped a subtle change in his mood. It +brought a sternness to his face. She could hardly realize she was looking +at the Glenn Kilbourne of old. + +"Come close to the fire," he said, and pulled up a chair for her. Then he +threw more wood upon the red coals. "You must be careful not to catch cold +out here. The altitude makes a cold dangerous. And that gown is no +protection." + +"Glenn, one chair used to be enough for us," she said, archly, standing +beside him. + +But he did not respond to her hint, and, a little affronted, she accepted +the proffered chair. Then he began to ask questions rapidly. He was eager +for news from home--from his people--from old friends. However he did not +inquire of Carley about her friends. She talked unremittingly for an hour, +before she satisfied his hunger. But when her turn came to ask questions +she found him reticent. + +He had fallen upon rather hard days at first out here in the West; then his +health had begun to improve; and as soon as he was able to work his +condition rapidly changed for the better; and now he was getting along +pretty well. Carley felt hurt at his apparent disinclination to confide in +her. The strong cast of his face, as if it had been chiseled in bronze; the +stern set of his lips and the jaw that protruded lean and square cut; the +quiet masked light of his eyes; the coarse roughness of his brown hands, +mute evidence of strenuous labors--these all gave a different impression +from his brief remarks about himself. Lastly there was a little gray in the +light-brown hair over his temples. Glenn was only twenty-seven, yet he +looked ten years older. Studying him so, with the memory of earlier years +in her mind, she was forced to admit that she liked him infinitely more as +he was now. He seemed proven. Something had made him a man. Had it been +his love for her, or the army service, or the war in France, or the +struggle for life and health afterwards? Or had it been this rugged, +uncouth West? Carley felt insidious jealousy of this last possibility. She +feared this West. She was going to hate it. She had womanly intuition +enough to see in Flo Hutter a girl somehow to be reckoned with. Still, +Carley would not acknowledge to herself that his simple, unsophisticated +Western girl could possibly be a rival. Carley did not need to consider the +fact that she had been spoiled by the attention of men. It was not her +vanity that precluded Flo Hutter as a rival. + +Gradually the conversation drew to a lapse, and it suited Carley to let it +be so. She watched Glenn as he gazed thoughtfully into the amber depths of +the fire. What was going on in his mind? Carley's old perplexity suddenly +had rebirth. And with it came an unfamiliar fear which she could not +smother. Every moment that she sat there beside Glenn she was realizing +more and more a yearning, passionate love for him. The unmistakable +manifestation of his joy at sight of her, the strong, almost rude +expression of his love, had called to some responsive, but hitherto unplumbed deeps of +her. If it had not been for these undeniable facts Carley would have been +panic-stricken. They reassured her, yet only made her state of mind more dissatisfied. + +"Carley, do you still go in for dancing?" Glenn asked, presently, with his +thoughtful eyes turning to her. + +"Of course. I like dancing, and it's about all the exercise I get," she +replied. + +"Have the dances changed--again?" + +"It's the music, perhaps, that changes the dancing. Jazz is becoming +popular. And about all the crowd dances now is an infinite variation of +fox-trot." + +"No waltzing?" + +"I don't believe I waltzed once this winter." + +"Jazz? That's a sort of tinpanning, jiggly stuff, isn't it?" + +"Glenn, it's the fever of the public pulse," replied Carley. "The graceful +waltz, like the stately minuet, flourished back in the days when people +rested rather than raced." + +"More's the pity," said Glenn. Then after a moment, in which his gaze +returned to the fire, he inquired rather too casually, "Does Morrison still +chase after you?" + +"Glenn, I'm neither old--nor married," she replied, laughing. + +"No, that's true. But if you were married it wouldn't make any difference +to Morrison." + +Carley could not detect bitterness or jealousy in his voice. She would not +have been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark, however, +that he was going to be harder than ever to understand. What had she said +or done to make him retreat within himself, aloof, impersonal, unfamiliar? +He did not impress her as loverlike. What irony of fate was this that held +her there yearning for his kisses and caresses as never before, while he +watched the fire, and talked as to a mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and +far away? Or did she merely imagine that? Only one thing could she be sure +of at that moment, and it was that pride would never be her ally. + +"Glenn, look here," she said, sliding her chair close to his and holding +out her left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond on the +third finger. + +He took her hand in his and pressed it, and smiled at her. "Yes, Carley, +it's a beautiful, soft little hand. But I think I'd like it better if it +were strong and brown, and coarse on the inside--from useful work." + +"Like Flo Hutter's?" queried Carley. + +"Yes." + +Carley looked proudly into his eyes. "People are born in different +stations. I respect your little Western friend, Glenn, but could I wash and +sweep, milk cows and chop wood, and all that sort of thing?" + +"I suppose you couldn't," he admitted, with a blunt little laugh. + +"Would you want me to?" she asked. + +"Well, that's hard to say," he replied, knitting his brows. "I hardly know. +I think it depends on you. . . . But if you did do such work wouldn't you +be happier?" + +"Happier! Why Glenn, I'd be miserable! ... But listen. It wasn't my +beautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my engagement ring." + +"Oh!--Well?" he went on, slowly. + +"I've never had it off since you left New York," she said, softly. "You +gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on my twenty-second +birthday. You said it would take two months' salary to pay the bill." + +"It sure did," he retorted, with a hint of humor. + +"Glenn, during the war it was not so--so very hard to wear this ring as an +engagement ring should be worn," said Carley, growing more earnest. "But +after the war--especially after your departure West it was terribly hard to +be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was a let-down in +all women. Oh, no one need tell me! There was. And men were affected by +that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York was wild during the +year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.--Well, I gadded, danced, +dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same as the other women in our +crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested. Excitement seemed to be +happiness--Glenn, I am not making any plea to excuse all that. But I want +you to know--how under trying circumstances--I was absolutely true to you. +Understand me. I mean true as regards love. Through it all I loved you +just the same. And now I'm with you, it seems, oh, so much more! . . . Your +last letter hurt me. I don't know just how. But I came West to see you--to +tell you this--and to ask you. . . . Do you want this ring back?" + +"Certainly not," he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading over his +face. + +"Then--you love me?" she whispered. + +"Yes--I love you," he returned, deliberately. "And in spite of all you +say--very probably more than you love me. . . . But you, like all women, +make love and its expression the sole object of life. Carley, I have been +concerned with keeping my body from the grave and my soul from hell." + +"But--dear--you're well now?" she returned, with trembling lips. + +"Yes, I've almost pulled out." + +"Then what is wrong?" + +"Wrong?--With me or you," he queried, with keen, enigmatical glance upon +her. + +"What is wrong between us? There is something." + +"Carley, a man who has been on the verge--as I have been--seldom or never +comes back to happiness. But perhaps--" + +"You frighten me," cried Carley, and, rising, she sat upon the arm of his +chair and encircled his neck with her arms. "How can I help if I do not +understand? Am I so miserably little? . . . Glenn, must I tell you? No +woman can live without love. I need to be loved. That's all that's wrong +with me." + +"Carley, you are still an imperious, mushy girl," replied Glenn, taking her +into his arms. "I need to be loved, too. But that's not what is wrong with +me. You'll have to find it out yourself." + +"You're a dear old Sphinx," she retorted. + +"Listen, Carley," he said, earnestly. "About this love-making stuff. Please +don't misunderstand me. I love you. I'm starved for your kisses. But--is it +right to ask them?" + +"Right! Aren't we engaged? And don't I want to give them?" + +"If I were only sure we'd be married!" he said, in low, tense voice, as if +speaking more to himself. + +"Married!" cried Carley, convulsively clasping him. "Of course we'll be +married. Glenn, you wouldn't jilt me?" + +"Carley, what I mean is that you might never really marry me," he answered, +seriously. + +"Oh, if that's all you need be sure of, Glenn Kilbourne, you may begin to +make love to me now." + + +It was late when Carley went up to her room. And she was in such a softened +mood, so happy and excited and yet disturbed in mind, that the coldness and +the darkness did not matter in the least. She undressed in pitchy +blackness, stumbling over chair and bed, feeling for what she needed. And +in her mood this unusual proceeding was fun. When ready for bed she opened +the door to take a peep out. Through the dense blackness the waterfall +showed dimly opaque. Carley felt a soft mist wet her face. The low roar of +the falling water seemed to envelop her. Under the cliff wall brooded +impenetrable gloom. But out above the treetops shone great stars, +wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a piercing contrast to the +deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed into an absolutely dead +silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only cold was it that made Carley +shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden this canyon! + +Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets. Relaxation +and thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood, the beat and +throb and swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. In the lonely +darkness of her room she might have faced the truth of her strangely +renewed and augmented love for Glenn Kilbourne. But she was more concerned +with her happiness. She had won him back. Her presence, her love had +overcome his restraint. She thrilled in the sweet consciousness of her +woman's conquest. How splendid he was! To hold back physical tenderness, +the simple expressions of love, because he had feared they might unduly +influence her! He had grown in many ways. She must be careful to reach up +to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter's toil-hardened hands! Was that +significance somehow connected with the rift in the lute? For Carley +admitted to herself that there was something amiss, something +incomprehensible, something intangible that obtruded its menace into her +dream of future happiness. Still, what had she to fear, so long as she +could be with Glenn? + +And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, the +questions--was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blind to +something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to come held +promise of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise they seemed full +of a portent of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, of lessons that would +make life significant for her. + + +CHAPTER III + +Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room. The raising of sleepy +eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, in the act of +lighting a fire. + +"Mawnin', Carley," she drawled. "It's shore cold. Reckon it'll snow today, +worse luck, just because you're here. Take my hunch and stay in bed till +the fire burns up." + +"I shall do no such thing," declared Carley, heroically. + +"We're afraid you'll take cold," said Flo. "This is desert country with +high altitude. Spring is here when the sun shines. But it's only shinin' in +streaks these days. That means winter, really. Please be good." + +"Well, it doesn't require much self-denial to stay here awhile longer," +replied Carley, lazily. + +Flo left with a parting admonition not to let the stove get red-hot. And +Carley lay snuggled in the warm blankets, dreading the ordeal of getting +out into that cold bare room. Her nose was cold. When her nose grew cold, +it being a faithful barometer as to temperature, Carley knew there was +frost in the air. She preferred summer. Steam-heated rooms with hothouse +flowers lending their perfume had certainly not trained Carley for +primitive conditions. She had a spirit, however, that was waxing a little +rebellious to all this intimation as to her susceptibility to colds and her +probable weakness under privation. Carley got up. Her bare feet landed upon +the board floor instead of the Navajo rug, and she thought she had +encountered cold stone. Stove and hot water notwithstanding, by the time +she was half dressed she was also half frozen. "Some actor fellow once said +w-when you w-went West you were c-camping out," chattered Carley. "Believe +me, he said something." + +The fact was Carley had never camped out. Her set played golf, rode +horseback, motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for +uncomfortable trips. The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as warm +and luxurious as Carley's own home. Carley now missed many things. And +assuredly her flesh was weak. It cost her effort of will and real pain to +finish lacing her boots. As she had made an engagement with Glenn to visit +his cabin, she had donned an outdoor suit. She wondered if the cold had +anything to do with the perceptible diminishing of the sound of the +waterfall. Perhaps some of the water had frozen, like her fingers. + +Carley went downstairs to the living room, and made no effort to resist a +rush to the open fire. Flo and her mother were amused at Carley's +impetuosity. "You'll like that stingin' of the air after you get used to +it," said Mrs. Hutter. Carley had her doubts. When she was thoroughly +thawed out she discovered an appetite quite unusual for her, and she +enjoyed her breakfast. Then it was time to sally forth to meet Glenn. + +"It's pretty sharp this mawnin'," said Flo. "You'll need gloves and +sweater." + +Having fortified herself with these, Carley asked how to find West Fork +Canyon. + +"It's down the road a little way," replied Flo. "A great narrow canyon +opening on the right side. You can't miss it." + +Flo accompanied her as far as the porch steps. A queer-looking individual +was slouching along with ax over his shoulder. + +"There's Charley," said Flo. "He'll show you." Then she whispered: "He's +sort of dotty sometimes. A horse kicked him once. But mostly he's +sensible." + +At Flo's call the fellow halted with a grin. He was long, lean, loose +jointed, dressed in blue overalls stuck into the tops of muddy boots, and +his face was clear olive without beard or line. His brow bulged a little, +and from under it peered out a pair of wistful brown eyes that reminded +Carley of those of a dog she had once owned. + +"Wal, it ain't a-goin' to be a nice day," remarked Charley, as he tried to +accommodate his strides to Carley's steps. + +"How can you tell?" asked Carley. "It looks clear and bright." + +"Naw, this is a dark mawnin'. Thet's a cloudy sun. We'll hev snow on an' +off." + +"Do you mind bad weather?" + +"Me? All the same to me. Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf round +a big fire at night." + +"I like a big fire, too." + +"Ever camped out?" he asked. + +"Not what you'd call the real thing," replied Carley. + +"Wal, thet's too bad. Reckon it'll be tough fer you," he went on, kindly. +"There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago an' she had a hell of a +time. They all joked her, 'cept me, an' played tricks on her. An' on her +side she was always puttin' her foot in it. I was shore sorry fer her." + +"You were very kind to be an exception," murmured Carley. + +"You look out fer Tom Hutter, an' I reckon Flo ain't so darn above layin' +traps fer you. 'Specially as she's sweet on your beau. I seen them together +a lot." + +"Yes?" interrogated Carley, encouragingly. + +"Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek. I helped +him build his cabin. We've hunted some together. Did you ever hunt?" + +"No." + +"Wal, you've shore missed a lot of fun," he said. "Turkey huntin'. Thet's +what fetches the gurls. I reckon because turkeys are so good to eat. The +old gobblers hev begun to gobble now. I'll take you gobbler huntin' if +you'd like to go." + +"I'm sure I would." + +"There's good trout fishin' along heah a little later," he said, pointing +to the stream. "Crick's too high now. I like West Fork best. I've ketched +some lammin' big ones up there." + +Carley was amused and interested. She could not say that Charley had shown +any indication of his mental peculiarity to her. It took considerable +restraint not to lead him to talk more about Flo and Glenn. Presently they +reached the turn in the road, opposite the cottage Carley had noticed +yesterday, and here her loquacious escort halted. + +"You take the trail heah," he said, pointing it out, "an' foller it into +West Fork. So long, an' don't forget we're goin' huntin' turkeys." + +Carley smiled her thanks, and, taking to the trail, she stepped out +briskly, now giving attention to her surroundings. The canyon had widened, +and the creek with its deep thicket of green and white had sheered to the +left. On her right the canyon wall appeared to be lifting higher--and +higher. She could not see it well, owing to intervening treetops. The trail +led her through a grove of maples and sycamores, out into an open park-like +bench that turned to the right toward the cliff. Suddenly Carley saw a +break in the red wall. It was the intersecting canyon, West Fork. What a +narrow red-walled gateway! Huge pine trees spread wide gnarled branches +over her head. The wind made soft rush in their tops, sending the brown +needles lightly on the air. Carley turned the bulging corner, to be halted +by a magnificent spectacle. It seemed a mountain wall loomed over her. It +was the western side of this canyon, so lofty that Carley had to tip back +her head to see the top. She swept her astonished gaze down the face of +this tremendous red mountain wall and then slowly swept it upward again. +This phenomenon of a cliff seemed beyond the comprehension of her sight. It +looked a mile high. The few trees along its bold rampart resembled short +spear-pointed bushes outlined against the steel gray of sky. Ledges, caves, +seams, cracks, fissures, beetling red brows, yellow crumbling crags, +benches of green growths and niches choked with brush, and bold points +where single lonely pine trees grew perilously, and blank walls a thousand +feet across their shadowed faces--these features gradually took shape in +Carley's confused sight, until the colossal mountain front stood up before +her in all its strange, wild, magnificent ruggedness and beauty. + +"Arizona! Perhaps this is what he meant," murmured Carley. "I never dreamed +of anything like this. . . . But, oh! it overshadows me--bears me down! I +could never have a moment's peace under it." + +It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with +their remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest +there, if that were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There were +places, then, that the desecrating hands of man could not touch. The dark +caves were mystically potent in their vacant staring out at the world +beneath them. The crumbling crags, the toppling ledges, the leaning rocks +all threatened to come thundering down at the breath of wind. How deep and +soft the red color in contrast with the green! How splendid the sheer bold +uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found herself marveling at the forces +that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left this monument to nature. + +"Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!" called a gay voice. "If the back wall of +my yard so halts you--what will you ever do when you see the Painted +Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand Canyon?" + +"Oh, Glenn, where are you?" cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at hand. +But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived her. +Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek she had not +before noticed. + +"Come on," he called. "I want to see you cross the stepping stones." + +Carley ran ahead, down a little slope of clean red rock, to the shore of +the green water. It was clear, swift, deep in some places and shallow in +others, with white wreathes or ripples around the rocks evidently placed +there as a means to cross. Carley drew back aghast. + +"Glenn, I could never make it," she called. + +"Come on, my Alpine climber," he taunted. "Will you let Arizona daunt you?" + +"Do you want me to fall in and catch cold?" she cried, desperately. + +"Carley, big women might even cross the bad places of modern life on +stepping stones of their dead selves!" he went on, with something of +mockery. "Surely a few physical steps are not beyond you." + +"Say, are you mangling Tennyson or just kidding me?" she demanded slangily. + +"My love, Flo could cross here with her eyes shut." + +That thrust spurred Carley to action. His words were jest, yet they held a +hint of earnest. With her heart at her throat Carley stepped on the first +rock, and, poising, she calculated on a running leap from stone to stone. +Once launched, she felt she was falling downhill. She swayed, she splashed, +she slipped; and clearing the longest leap from the last stone to shore she +lost her balance and fell into Glenn's arms. His kisses drove away both her +panic and her resentment. + +"By Jove! I didn't think you'd even attempt it!" he declared, manifestly +pleased. "I made sure I'd have to pack you over--in fact, rather liked the +idea." + +"I wouldn't advise you to employ any such means again--to dare me," she +retorted. + +"That's a nifty outdoor suit you've on," he said, admiringly. "I was +wondering what you'd wear. I like short outing skirts for women, rather +than trousers. The service sort of made the fair sex dippy about pants." + +"It made them dippy about more than that," she replied. "You and I will +never live to see the day that women recover their balance." + +"I agree with you," replied Glenn. + +Carley locked her arm in his. "Honey, I want to have a good time today. +Cut out all the other women stuff. . . . Take me to see your little gray +home in the West. Or is it gray?" + +He laughed. "Why, yes, it's gray, just about. The logs have bleached some." + +Glenn led her away up a trail that climbed between bowlders, and meandered +on over piny mats of needles under great, silent, spreading pines; and +closer to the impondering mountain wall, where at the base of the red rock +the creek murmured strangely with hollow gurgle, where the sun had no +chance to affect the cold damp gloom; and on through sweet-smelling woods, +out into the sunlight again, and across a wider breadth of stream; and up a +slow slope covered with stately pines, to a little cabin that faced the +west. + +"Here we are, sweetheart," said Glenn. "Now we shall see what you are made +of." + +Carley was non-committal as to that. Her intense interest precluded any +humor at this moment. Not until she actually saw the log cabin Glenn had +erected with his own hands had she been conscious of any great interest. +But sight of it awoke something unaccustomed in Carley. As she stepped into +the cabin her heart was not acting normally for a young woman who had no +illusions about love in a cottage. + +Glenn's cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty long. +Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There was a +small window opposite the door. In one corner was a couch of poles, with +green tips of pine boughs peeping from under the blankets. The floor +consisted of flat rocks laid irregularly, with many spaces of earth showing +between. The open fireplace appeared too large for the room, but the very +bigness of it, as well as the blazing sticks and glowing embers, appealed +strongly to Carley. A rough-hewn log formed the mantel, and on it Carley's +picture held the place of honor. Above this a rifle lay across deer +antlers. Carley paused here in her survey long enough to kiss Glenn and +point to her photograph. + +"You couldn't have pleased me more." + +To the left of the fireplace was a rude cupboard of shelves, packed with +boxes, cans, bags, and utensils. Below the cupboard, hung upon pegs, were +blackened pots and pans, a long-handled skillet, and a bucket. Glenn's +table was a masterpiece. There was no danger of knocking it over. It +consisted of four poles driven into the ground, upon which had been nailed +two wide slabs. This table showed considerable evidence of having been +scrubbed scrupulously clean. There were two low stools, made out of boughs, +and the seats had been covered with woolly sheep hide. In the right-hand +corner stood a neat pile of firewood, cut with an ax, and beyond this hung +saddle and saddle blanket, bridle and spurs. An old sombrero was hooked +upon the pommel of the saddle. Upon the wall, higher up, hung a lantern, +resting in a coil of rope that Carley took to be a lasso. Under a shelf +upon which lay a suitcase hung some rough wearing apparel. + +Carley noted that her picture and the suit case were absolutely the only +physical evidences of Glenn's connection with his Eastern life. That had an +unaccountable effect upon Carley. What had she expected? Then, after +another survey of the room, she began to pester Glenn with questions. He +had to show her the spring outside and the little bench with basin and +soap. Sight of his soiled towel made her throw up her hands. She sat on the +stools. She lay on the couch. She rummaged into the contents of the +cupboard. She threw wood on the fire. Then, finally, having exhausted her +search and inquiry, she flopped down on one of the stools to gaze at Glenn +in awe and admiration and incredulity. + +"Glenn--you've actually lived here!" she ejaculated. + +"Since last fall before the snow came," he said, smiling. + +"Snow! Did it snow?" she inquired. + +"Well, I guess. I was snowed in for a week." + +"Why did you choose this lonely place--way off from the Lodge?" she asked, +slowly. + +"I wanted to be by myself," he replied, briefly. + +"You mean this is a sort of camp-out place?" + +"Carley, I call it my home," he replied, and there was a low, strong +sweetness in his voice she had never heard before. + +That silenced her for a while. She went to the door and gazed up at the +towering wall, more wonderful than ever, and more fearful, too, in her +sight. Presently tears dimmed her eyes. She did not understand her feeling; +she was ashamed of it; she hid it from Glenn. Indeed, there was something +terribly wrong between her and Glenn, and it was not in him. This cabin he +called home gave her a shock which would take time to analyze. At length +she turned to him with gay utterance upon her lips. She tried to put out of +her mind a dawning sense that this close-to-the-earth habitation, this +primitive dwelling, held strange inscrutable power over a self she had +never divined she possessed. The very stones in the hearth seemed to call +out from some remote past, and the strong sweet smell of burnt wood +thrilled to the marrow of her bones. How little she knew of herself! But +she had intelligence enough to understand that there was a woman in her, +the female of the species; and through that the sensations from logs and +stones and earth and fire had strange power to call up the emotions handed +down to her from the ages. The thrill, the queer heartbeat, the vague, +haunting memory of something, as of a dim childhood adventure, the strange +prickling sense of dread--these abided with her and augmented while she +tried to show Glenn her pride in him and also how funny his cabin seemed to +her. + +Once or twice he hesitatingly, and somewhat appealingly, she imagined, +tried to broach the subject of his work there in the West. But Carley +wanted a little while with him free of disagreeable argument. It was a +foregone conclusion that she would not like his work. Her intention at +first had been to begin at once to use all persuasion in her power toward +having him go back East with her, or at the latest some time this year. But +the rude log cabin had checked her impulse. She felt that haste would be +unwise. + +"Glenn Kilbourne, I told you why I came West to see you," she said, +spiritedly. "Well, since you still swear allegiance to your girl from the +East, you might entertain her a little bit before getting down to business +talk." + +"All right, Carley," he replied, laughing. "What do you want to do? The day +is at your disposal. I wish it were June. Then if you didn't fall in love +with West Fork you'd be no good." + +"Glenn, I love people, not places," she returned. + +"So I remember. And that's one thing I don't like. But let's not quarrel. +What'll we do?" + +"Suppose you tramp with me all around, until I'm good and hungry. Then +we'll come back here--and you can cook dinner for me." + +"Fine! Oh, I know you're just bursting with curiosity to see how I'll do +it. Well, you may be surprised, miss." + +"Let's go," she urged. + +"Shall I take my gun or fishing rod?" + +"You shall take nothing but me," retorted Carley. "What chance has a girl +with a man, if he can hunt or fish?" + +So they went out hand in hand. Half of the belt of sky above was obscured +by swiftly moving gray clouds. The other half was blue and was being slowly +encroached upon by the dark storm-like pall. How cold the air! Carley had +already learned that when the sun was hidden the atmosphere was cold. Glenn +led her down a trail to the brook, where he calmly picked her up in his +arms, quite easily, it appeared, and leisurely packed her across, kissing +her half a dozen times before he deposited her on her feet. + +"Glenn, you do this sort of thing so well that it makes me imagine you have +practice now and then," she said. + +"No. But you are pretty and sweet, and like the girl you were four years +ago. That takes me back to those days." + +"I thank you. That's dear of you. I think I am something of a cat. . . . +I'll be glad if this walk leads us often to the creek." + +Spring might have been fresh and keen in the air, but it had not yet +brought much green to the brown earth or to the trees. The cotton-woods +showed a light feathery verdure. The long grass was a bleached white, and +low down close to the sod fresh tiny green blades showed. The great fern +leaves were sear and ragged, and they rustled in the breeze. Small gray +sheath-barked trees with clumpy foliage and snags of dead branches, Glenn +called cedars; and, grotesque as these were, Carley rather liked them. They +were approachable, not majestic and lofty like the pines, and they smelled +sweetly wild, and best of all they afforded some protection from the bitter +wind. Carley rested better than she walked. The huge sections of red rock +that had tumbled from above also interested Carley, especially when the sun +happened to come out for a few moments and brought out their color. She +enjoyed walking on the fallen pines, with Glenn below, keeping pace with +her and holding her hand. Carley looked in vain for flowers and birds. The +only living things she saw were rainbow trout that Glenn pointed out to her +in the beautiful clear pools. The way the great gray bowlders trooped down +to the brook as if they were cattle going to drink; the dark caverns under +the shelving cliffs, where the water murmured with such hollow mockery; the +low spear-pointed gray plants, resembling century plants, and which Glenn +called mescal cactus, each with its single straight dead stalk standing on +high with fluted head; the narrow gorges, perpendicularly walled in red, +where the constricted brook plunged in amber and white cascades over fall +after fall, tumbling, rushing, singing its water melody--these all held +singular appeal for Carley as aspects of the wild land, fascinating for the +moment, symbolic of the lonely red man and his forbears, and by their raw +contrast making more necessary and desirable and elevating the comforts and +conventions of civilization. The cave man theory interested Carley only as +mythology. + +Lonelier, wilder, grander grew Glenn's canyon. Carley was finally forced to +shift her attention from the intimate objects of the canyon floor to the +aloof and unattainable heights. Singular to feel the difference! That which +she could see close at hand, touch if she willed, seemed to, become part of +her knowledge, could be observed and so possessed and passed by. But the +gold-red ramparts against the sky, the crannied cliffs, the crags of the +eagles, the lofty, distant blank walls, where the winds of the gods had +written their wars--these haunted because they could never be possessed. +Carley had often gazed at the Alps as at celebrated pictures. She admired, +she appreciated--then she forgot. But the canyon heights did not affect her +that way. They vaguely dissatisfied, and as she could not be sure of what +they dissatisfied, she had to conclude that it was in herself. To see, to +watch, to dream, to seek, to strive, to endure, to find! Was that what they +meant? They might make her thoughtful of the vast earth, and its endless +age, and its staggering mystery. But what more! + +The storm that had threatened blackened the sky, and gray scudding clouds +buried the canyon rims, and long veils of rain and sleet began to descend. +The wind roared through the pines, drowning the roar of the brook. Quite +suddenly the air grew piercingly cold. Carley had forgotten her gloves, and +her pockets had not been constructed to protect hands. Glenn drew her into +a sheltered nook where a rock jutted out from overhead and a thicket of +young pines helped break the onslaught of the wind. There Carley sat on a +cold rock, huddled up close to Glenn, and wearing to a state she knew would +be misery. Glenn not only seemed content; he was happy. "This is great," he +said. His coat was open, his hands uncovered, and he watched the storm and +listened with manifest delight. Carley hated to betray what a weakling she +was, so she resigned herself to her fate, and imagined she felt her fingers +numbing into ice, and her sensitive nose slowly and painfully freezing. + +The storm passed, however, before Carley sank into abject and open +wretchedness. She managed to keep pace with Glenn until exercise warmed her +blood. At every little ascent in the trail she found herself laboring to +get her breath. There was assuredly evidence of abundance of air in this +canyon, but somehow she could not get enough of it. Glenn detected this and +said it was owing to the altitude. When they reached the cabin Carley was +wet, stiff, cold, exhausted. How welcome the shelter, the open fireplace! +Seeing the cabin in new light, Carley had the grace to acknowledge to +herself that, after all, it was not so bad. + +"Now for a good fire and then dinner," announced Glenn, with the air of one +who knew his ground. + +"Can I help?" queried Carley. + +"Not today. I do not want you to spring any domestic science on me now." +Carley was not averse to withholding her ignorance. She watched Glenn with +surpassing curiosity and interest. First he threw a quantity of wood upon +the smoldering fire. + +"I have ham and mutton of my own raising," announced Glenn, with +importance. "Which would you prefer?" + +"Of your own raising. What do you mean?" queried Carley. + +"My dear, you've been so steeped in the fog of the crowd that you are blind +to the homely and necessary things of living. I mean I have here meat of +both sheep and hog that I raised myself. That is to say, mutton and ham. +Which do you like?" + +"Ham!" cried Carley, incredulously. + +Without more ado Glenn settled to brisk action, every move of which Carley +watched with keen eyes. The usurping of a woman's province by a man was +always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne--what more would it be? He +evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was quick, decisive. One +after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, utensils on the table. +Then he kicked at the roaring fire, settling some of the sticks. He strode +outside to return with a bucket of water, a basin, towel, and soap. Then he +took down two queer little iron pots with heavy lids. To each pot was +attached a wire handle. He removed the lids, then set both the pots right +on the fire or in it. Pouring water into the basin, he proceeded to wash +his hands. Next he took a large pail, and from a sack he filled it half +full of flour. To this he added baking powder and salt. It was instructive +for Carley to see him run his skillful fingers all through that flour, as +if searching for lumps. After this he knelt before the fire and, lifting +off one of the iron pots with a forked stick, he proceeded to wipe out the +inside of the pot and grease it with a piece of fat. His next move was to +rake out a pile of the red coals, a feat he performed with the stick, and +upon these he placed the pot. Also he removed the other pot from the fire, +leaving it, however, quite close. + +"Well, all eyes?" he bantered, suddenly staring at her. "Didn't I say I'd +surprise you?" + +"Don't mind me. This is about the happiest and most bewildered moment--of +my life," replied Carley. + +Returning to the table, Glenn dug at something in a large red can. He +paused a moment to eye Carley. + +"Girl, do you know how to make biscuits?" he queried. + +"I might have known in my school days, but I've forgotten," she replied. + +"Can you make apple pie?" he demanded, imperiously. + +"No," rejoined Carley. + +"How do you expect to please your husband?" + +"Why--by marrying him, I suppose," answered Carley, as if weighing a +problem. + +"That has been the universal feminine point of view for a good many years," +replied Glenn, flourishing a flour-whitened hand. "But it never served the +women of the Revolution or the pioneers. And they were the builders of the +nation. It will never serve the wives of the future, if we are to survive." + +"Glenn, you rave!" ejaculated Carley, not knowing whether to laugh or be +grave. "You were talking of humble housewifely things." + +"Precisely. The humble things that were the foundation of the great nation +of Americans. I meant work and children." + +Carley could only stare at him. The look he flashed at her, the sudden +intensity and passion of his ringing words, were as if he gave her a +glimpse into the very depths of him. He might have begun in fun, but he had +finished otherwise. She felt that she really did not know this man. Had he +arraigned her in judgment? A flush, seemingly hot and cold, passed over +her. Then it relieved her to see that he had returned to his task. + +He mixed the shortening with the flour, and, adding water, he began a +thorough kneading. When the consistency of the mixture appeared to satisfy +him he took a handful of it, rolled it into a ball, patted and flattened it +into a biscuit, and dropped it into the oven he had set aside on the hot +coals. Swiftly he shaped eight or ten other biscuits and dropped them as +the first. Then he put the heavy iron lid on the pot, and with a rude +shovel, improvised from a flattened tin can, he shoveled red coals out of +the fire, and covered the lid with them. His next move was to pare and +slice potatoes, placing these aside in a pan. A small black coffee-pot half +full of water, was set on a glowing part of the fire. Then he brought into +use a huge, heavy knife, a murderous-looking implement it appeared to +Carley, with which he cut slices of ham. These he dropped into the second +pot, which he left uncovered. Next he removed the flour sack and other +inpedimenta from the table, and proceeded to set places for two--blue-enamel +plate and cup, with plain, substantial-looking knives, forks, and spoons. +He went outside, to return presently carrying a small crock of butter. +Evidently he had kept the butter in or near the spring. It looked dewy and +cold and hard. After that he peeped under the lid of the pot which +contained the biscuits. The other pot was sizzling and smoking, giving +forth a delicious savory odor that affected Carley most agreeably. The +coffee-pot had begun to steam. With a long fork Glenn turned the slices of +ham and stood a moment watching them. Next he placed cans of three sizes +upon the table; and these Carley conjectured contained sugar, salt, and +pepper. Carley might not have been present, for all the attention he paid +to her. Again he peeped at the biscuits. At the edge of the hot embers he +placed a tin plate, upon which he carefully deposited the slices of ham. +Carley had not needed sight of them to know she was hungry; they made her +simply ravenous. That done, he poured the pan of sliced potatoes into the +pot. Carley judged the heat of that pot to be extreme. Next he removed the +lid from the other pot, exposing biscuits slightly browned; and evidently +satisfied with these, he removed them from the coals. He stirred the slices +of potatoes round and round; he emptied two heaping tablespoonfuls of +coffee into the coffee-pot. + +"Carley," he said, at last turning to her with a warm smile, "out here in +the West the cook usually yells, 'Come and get it.' Draw up your stool." + +And presently Carley found herself seated across the crude table from +Glenn, with the background of chinked logs in her sight, and the smart of +wood smoke in her eyes. In years past she had sat with him in the soft, +subdued, gold-green shadows of the Astor, or in the sumptuous atmosphere of +the St. Regis. But this event was so different, so striking, that she felt +it would have limitless significance. For one thing, the look of Glenn! +When had he ever seemed like this, wonderfully happy to have her there, +consciously proud of this dinner he had prepared in half an hour, strangely +studying her as one on trial? This might have had its effect upon Carley's +reaction to the situation, making it sweet, trenchant with meaning, but she +was hungry enough and the dinner was good enough to make this hour +memorable on that score alone. She ate until she was actually ashamed of +herself. She laughed heartily, she talked, she made love to Glenn. Then +suddenly an idea flashed into her quick mind. + +"Glenn, did this girl Flo teach you to cook?" she queried, sharply. + +"No. I always was handy in camp. Then out here I had the luck to fall in +with an old fellow who was a wonderful cook. He lived with me for a while. +. . . Why, what difference would it have made--had Flo taught me?" + +Carley felt the heat of blood in her face. "I don't know that it would have +made a difference. Only--I'm glad she didn't teach you. I'd rather no girl +could teach you what I couldn't." + +"You think I'm a pretty good cook, then?" he asked. + +"I've enjoyed this dinner more than any I've ever eaten." + +"Thanks, Carley. That'll help a lot," he said, gayly, but his eyes shone +with earnest, glad light. "I hoped I'd surprise you. I've found out here +that I want to do things well. The West stirs something in a man. It must +be an unwritten law. You stand or fall by your own hands. Back East you +know meals are just occasions--to hurry through--to dress for--to meet +somebody--to eat because you have to eat. But out here they are different. +I don't know how. In the city, producers, merchants, waiters serve you for +money. The meal is a transaction. It has no significance. It is money that +keeps you from starvation. But in the West money doesn't mean much. You +must work to live." + +Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and +admiringly. "Old fellow, you're a wonder. I can't tell you how proud I am +of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your way to +health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid achievement. It +amazes me. I don't grasp it. I want to think. Nevertheless I--" + +"What?" he queried, as she hesitated. + +"Oh, never mind now," she replied, hastily, averting her eyes. + + +The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge--and in spite of the +discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her face as +she struggled up the trail--it was a day never to be forgotten. Nothing had +been wanting in Glenn's attention or affection. He had been comrade, lover, +all she craved for. And but for his few singular words about work and +children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day in his canyon and +his cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? Something vague and perplexing +knocked at the gate of her consciousness. + + +CHAPTER IV + +Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion that +pleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a propitious time +to climb up on the desert to look after his sheep interests. Glenn, of +course, would accompany him. + +"Carley and I will go too," asserted Flo. + +"Reckon that'll be good," said Hutter, with approving nod. + +His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see the beautiful +desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious. + +"Carley, it'll be rather hard," he said. "You're soft, and riding and lying +out will stove you up. You ought to break in gradually." + +"I rode ten miles today," rejoined Carley. "And didn't mind it--much." This +was a little deviation from stern veracity. + +"Shore Carley's well and strong," protested Flo. "She'll get sore, but that +won't kill her." + +Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. "I might drive Carley round +about in the car," he said. + +"But you can't drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. We'd have +to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It's horseback if you go at +all." + +"Shore we'll go horseback," spoke up Flo. "Carley has got it all over that +Spencer girl who was here last summer." + +"I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what the ride +to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer," rejoined Glenn. + +"What?" inquired Carley. + +"Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed two +days. She didn't show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she never got +on another horse." + +"Oh, is that all, Glenn?" returned Carley, in feigned surprise. "Why, I +imagined from your tone that Miss Spencer's ride must have occasioned her +discomfort. . . . See here, Glenn. I may be a tenderfoot, but I'm no +mollycoddle." + +"My dear, I surrender," replied Glenn, with a laugh. "Really, I'm +delighted. But if anything happens--don't you blame me. I'm quite sure that +a long horseback ride, in spring, on the desert, will show you a good many +things about yourself." + +That was how Carley came to find herself, the afternoon of the next day, +astride a self-willed and unmanageable little mustang, riding in the rear +of her friends, on the way through a cedar forest toward a place called +Deep Lake. + +Carley had not been able yet, during the several hours of their journey, to +take any pleasure in the scenery or in her mount. For in the first place +there was nothing to see but scrubby little gnarled cedars and drab-looking +rocks; and in the second this Indian pony she rode had discovered she was +not an adept horsewoman and had proceeded to take advantage of the fact. It +did not help Carley's predicament to remember that Glenn had decidedly +advised her against riding this particular mustang. To be sure, Flo had +approved of Carley's choice, and Mr. Hutter, with a hearty laugh, had +fallen in line: "Shore. Let her ride one of the broncs, if she wants." So +this animal she bestrode must have been a bronc, for it did not take him +long to elicit from Carley a muttered, "I don't know what bronc means, but +it sounds like this pony acts." + +Carley had inquired the animal's name from the young herder who had saddled +him for her. + +"Wal, I reckon he ain't got much of a name," replied the lad, with a grin, +as he scratched his head. "For us boys always called him Spillbeans." + +"Humph! What a beautiful cognomen!" ejaculated Carley, "But according to +Shakespeare any name will serve. I'll ride him or--or--" + +So far there had not really been any necessity for the completion of that +sentence. But five miles of riding up into the cedar forest had convinced +Carley that she might not have much farther to go. Spillbeans had ambled +along well enough until he reached level ground where a long bleached grass +waved in the wind. Here he manifested hunger, then a contrary nature, next +insubordination, and finally direct hostility. Carley had urged, pulled, +and commanded in vain. Then when she gave Spillbeans a kick in the flank he +jumped stiff legged, propelling her up out of the saddle, and while she was +descending he made the queer jump again, coming up to meet her. The jolt +she got seemed to dislocate every bone in her body. Likewise it hurt. +Moreover, along with her idea of what a spectacle she must have presented, +it quickly decided Carley that Spillbeans was a horse that was not to be +opposed. Whenever he wanted a mouthful of grass he stopped to get it. +Therefore Carley was always in the rear, a fact which in itself did not +displease her. Despite his contrariness, however, Spillbeans had apparently +no intention of allowing the other horses to get completely out of sight. + +Several times Flo waited for Carley to catch up. "He's loafing on you, +Carley. You ought to have on a spur. Break off a switch and beat him some." +Then she whipped the mustang across the flank with her bridle rein, which +punishment caused Spillbeans meekly to trot on with alacrity. Carley had a +positive belief that he would not do it for her. And after Flo's repeated +efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn, had kept Spillbeans in a trot +for a couple of miles Carley began to discover that the trotting of a horse +was the most uncomfortable motion possible to imagine. It grew worse. It +became painful. It gradually got unendurable. But pride made Carley endure +it until suddenly she thought she had been stabbed in the side. This +strange piercing pain must be what Glenn had called a "stitch" in the side, +something common to novices on horseback. Carley could have screamed. She +pulled the mustang to a walk and sagged in her saddle until the pain +subsided. What a blessed relief! Carley had keen sense of the difference +between riding in Central Park and in Arizona. She regretted her choice of +horses. Spillbeans was attractive to look at, but the pleasure of riding +him was a delusion. Flo had said his gait resembled the motion of a rocking +chair. This Western girl, according to Charley, the sheep herder, was not +above playing Arizona jokes. Be that as it might, Spillbeans now manifested +a desire to remain with the other horses, and he broke out of a walk into a +trot. Carley could not keep him from trotting. Hence her state soon wore +into acute distress. + +Her left ankle seemed broken. The stirrup was heavy, and as soon as she was +tired she could no longer keep its weight from drawing her foot in. The +inside of her right knee was as sore as a boil. Besides, she had other +pains, just as severe, and she stood momentarily in mortal dread of that +terrible stitch in her side. If it returned she knew she would fall off. +But, fortunately, just when she was growing weak and dizzy, the horses +ahead slowed to a walk on a descent. The road wound down into a wide deep +canyon. Carley had a respite from her severest pains. Never before had she +known what it meant to be so grateful for relief from anything. + +The afternoon grew far advanced and the sunset was hazily shrouded in gray. +Hutter did not like the looks of those clouds. "Reckon we're in for +weather," he said. Carley did not care what happened. Weather or anything +else that might make it possible to get off her horse! Glenn rode beside +her, inquiring solicitously as to her pleasure. "Ride of my life!" she lied +heroically. And it helped some to see that she both fooled and pleased him. + +Beyond the canyon the cedared desert heaved higher and changed its aspect. +The trees grew larger, bushier, greener, and closer together, with patches +of bleached grass between, and russet-lichened rocks everywhere. Small +cactus plants bristled sparsely in open places; and here and there bright +red flowers--Indian paintbrush, Flo called them--added a touch of color to +the gray. Glenn pointed to where dark banks of cloud had massed around the +mountain peaks. The scene to the west was somber and compelling. + +At last the men and the pack-horses ahead came to a halt in a level green +forestland with no high trees. Far ahead a chain of soft gray round hills +led up to the dark heaved mass of mountains. Carley saw the gleam of water +through the trees. Probably her mustang saw or scented it, because he +started to trot. Carley had reached a limit of strength, endurance, and +patience. She hauled him up short. When Spillbeans evinced a stubborn +intention to go on Carley gave him a kick. Then it happened. + +She felt the reins jerked out of her hands and the saddle propel her +upward. When she descended it was to meet that before-experienced jolt. + +"Look!" cried Flo. "That bronc is going to pitch." + +"Hold on, Carley!" yelled Glenn. + +Desperately Carley essayed to do just that. But Spillbeans jolted her out +of the saddle. She came down on his rump and began to slide back and down. +Frightened and furious, Carley tried to hang to the saddle with her hands +and to squeeze the mustang with her knees. But another jolt broke her hold, +and then, helpless and bewildered, with her heart in her throat and a +terrible sensation of weakness, she slid back at each upheave of the +muscular rump until she slid off and to the ground in a heap. Whereupon +Spillbeans trotted off toward the water. + +Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her. Manifestly they were +concerned about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter. Carley +knew she was not hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, on +the moment, she could almost have laughed herself. + +"That beast is well named," she said. "He spilled me, all right. And I +presume I resembled a sack of beans." + +"Carley--you're--not hurt?" asked Glenn, choking, as he helped her up. + +"Not physically. But my feelings are." + +Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by a loud +guffaw from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrain whatever +she felt. To Carley she looked queer. + +"Pitch! You called it that," said Carley. + +"Oh, he didn't really pitch. He just humped up a few times," replied Flo, +and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burst into a +merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning, and some of +the other men turned away with shaking shoulders. + +"Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!" ejaculated Carley. "It must have +been funny. I hope I can be a good sport. . . . But I bet you I ride him +tomorrow." + +"Shore you will," replied Flo. + +Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carley felt a +warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling of humiliation. They +expected such things from her, and she should expect them, too, and take +them, if not fearlessly or painlessly, at least without resentment. + +Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doing so +she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At second glance +the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to define. She could +see far, and the view north toward those strange gray-colored symmetrical +hills was one that fascinated while it repelled her. Near at hand the +ground sloped down to a large rock-bound lake, perhaps a mile in +circumference. In the distance, along the shore she saw a white conical +tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects she took for sheep. + +The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet +together, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appeared to +be briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the foot of a +thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed for her +and Flo. All that Carley could see that could be used for such purpose was +a canvas-covered roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope from round this, +unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar. Then he spread down the outer +layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thickness of blankets. From +under the top of these he pulled out two flat little pillows. These he +placed in position, and turned back some of the blankets. + +"Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over them," +directed Glenn. "If it rains pull the tarp up over your head--and let it +rain." + +This direction sounded in Glenn's cheery voice a good deal more pleasurable +than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar tree could not keep off +rain or snow. + +"Glenn, how about--about animals--and crawling things, you know?" queried +Carley. + +"Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes a scorpion. +But these don't crawl around much at night. The only thing to worry about +are the hydrophobia skunks." + +"What on earth are they?" asked Carley, quite aghast. + +"Skunks are polecats, you know," replied Glenn, cheerfully. "Sometimes one +gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then he's a dangerous +customer. He has no fear and he may run across you and bite you in the +face. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have been bitten +since I've been here. One of them died, and the other had to go to the +Pasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia." + +"Good heavens!" cried Carley, horrified. + +"You needn't be afraid," said Glenn. "I'll tie one of the dogs near your +bed." + +Carley wondered whether Glenn's casual, easy tone had been adopted for her +benefit or was merely an assimilation from this Western life. Not +improbably Glenn himself might be capable of playing a trick on her. Carley +endeavored to fortify herself against disaster, so that when it befell she +might not be wholly ludicrous. + +With the coming of twilight a cold, keen wind moaned through the cedars. +Carley would have hovered close to the fire even if she had not been too +tired to exert herself. Despite her aches, she did justice to the supper. +It amazed her that appetite consumed her to the extent of overcoming a +distaste for this strong, coarse cooking. Before the meal ended darkness +had fallen, a windy raw darkness that enveloped heavily like a blanket. +Presently Carley edged closer to the fire, and there she stayed, +alternately turning back and front to the welcome heat. She seemingly +roasted hands, face, and knees while her back froze. The wind blew the +smoke in all directions. When she groped around with blurred, smarting eyes +to escape the hot smoke, it followed her. The other members of the party +sat comfortably on sacks or rocks, without much notice of the smoke that so +exasperated Carley. Twice Glenn insisted that she take a seat he had fixed +for her, but she preferred to stand and move around a little. + +By and by the camp tasks of the men appeared to be ended, and all gathered +near the fire to lounge and smoke and talk. Glenn and Hutter engaged in +interested conversation with two Mexicans, evidently sheep herders. If the +wind and cold had not made Carley so uncomfortable she might have found the +scene picturesque. How black the night! She could scarcely distinguish the +sky at all. The cedar branches swished in the wind, and from the gloom came +a low sound of waves lapping a rocky shore. Presently Glenn held up a hand. + +"Listen, Carley!" he said. + +Then she heard strange wild yelps, staccato, piercing, somehow infinitely +lonely. They made her shudder. + +"Coyotes," said Glenn. "You'll come to love that chorus. Hear the dogs bark +back." + +Carley listened with interest, but she was inclined to doubt that she would +ever become enamoured of such wild cries. + +"Do coyotes come near camp?" she queried. + +"Shore. Sometimes they pull your pillow out from under your head," replied +Flo, laconically. + +Carley did not ask any more questions. Natural history was not her favorite +study and she was sure she could dispense with any first-hand knowledge of +desert beasts. She thought, however, she heard one of the men say, "Big +varmint prowlin' round the sheep." To which Hutter replied, "Reckon it was +a bear." And Glenn said, "I saw his fresh track by the lake. Some bear!" + +The heat from the fire made Carley so drowsy that she could scarcely hold +up her head. She longed for bed even if it was out there in the open. +Presently Flo called her: "Come. Let's walk a little before turning in." + +So Carley permitted herself to be led to and fro down an open aisle between +some cedars. The far end of that aisle, dark, gloomy, with the bushy +secretive cedars all around, caused Carley apprehension she was ashamed to +admit. Flo talked eloquently about the joys of camp life, and how the +harder any outdoor task was and the more endurance and pain it required, +the more pride and pleasure one had in remembering it. Carley was weighing +the import of these words when suddenly Flo clutched her arm. "What's +that?" she whispered, tensely. + +Carley stood stockstill. They had reached the furthermost end of that +aisle, but had turned to go back. The flare of the camp fire threw a wan +light into the shadows before them. There came a rustling in the brush, a +snapping of twigs. Cold tremors chased up and down Carley's back. + +"Shore it's a varmint, all right. Let's hurry," whispered Flo. + +Carley needed no urging. It appeared that Flo was not going to run. She +walked fast, peering back over her shoulder, and, hanging to Carley's arm, +she rounded a large cedar that had obstructed some of the firelight. The +gloom was not so thick here. And on the instant Carley espied a low, moving +object, somehow furry, and gray in color. She gasped. She could not speak. +Her heart gave a mighty throb and seemed to stop. + +"What--do you see?" cried Flo, sharply, peering ahead. "Oh! . . . Come, +Carley. Run!" + +Flo's cry showed she must nearly be strangled with terror. But Carley was +frozen in her tracks. Her eyes were riveted upon the gray furry object. It +stopped. Then it came faster. It magnified. It was a huge beast. Carley had +no control over mind, heart, voice, or muscle. Her legs gave way. She was +sinking. A terrible panic, icy, sickening, rending, possessed her whole +body. + +The huge gray thing came at her. Into the rushing of her ears broke +thudding sounds. The thing leaped up. A horrible petrifaction suddenly made +stone of Carley. Then she saw a gray mantlelike object cast aside to +disclose the dark form of a man. Glenn! + +"Carley, dog-gone it! You don't scare worth a cent," he laughingly +complained. + +She collapsed into his arms. The liberating shock was as great as had been +her terror. She began to tremble violently. Her hands got back a sense of +strength to clutch. Heart and blood seemed released from that ice-banded vise. + +"Say, I believe you were scared," went on Glenn, bending over her. + +"Scar-ed!" she gasped. "Oh--there's no word--to tell--what I was!" + +Flo came running back, giggling with joy. "Glenn, she shore took you for a +bear. Why, I felt her go stiff as a post! . . . Ha! Ha! Ha! Carley, now how +do you like the wild and woolly?" + +"Oh! You put up a trick on me!" ejaculated Carley. "Glenn, how could you? +. . . Such a terrible trick! I wouldn't have minded something reasonable. +But that! Oh, I'll never forgive you!" + +Glenn showed remorse, and kissed her before Flo in a way that made some +little amends. "Maybe I overdid it," he said. "But I thought you'd have a +momentary start, you know, enough to make you yell, and then you'd see +through it. I only had a sheepskin over my shoulders as I crawled on hands +and knees." + +"Glenn, for me you were a prehistoric monster--a dinosaur, or something," +replied Carley. + +It developed, upon their return to the campfire circle, that everybody had +been in the joke; and they all derived hearty enjoyment from it. + +"Reckon that makes you one of us," said Hutter, genially. "We've all had +our scares." + +Carley wondered if she were not so constituted that such trickery alienated +her. Deep in her heart she resented being made to show her cowardice. But +then she realized that no one had really seen any evidence of her state. It +was fun to them. + +Soon after this incident Hutter sounded what he called the roll-call for +bed. Following Flo's instructions, Carley sat on their bed, pulled off her +boots, folded coat and sweater at her head, and slid down under the +blankets. How strange and hard a bed! Yet Carley had the most delicious +sense of relief and rest she had ever experienced. She straightened out on +her back with a feeling that she had never before appreciated the luxury of +lying down. + +Flo cuddled up to her in quite sisterly fashion, saying: "Now don't cover +your head. If it rains I'll wake and pull up the tarp. Good night, Carley." +And almost immediately she seemed to fall asleep. + +For Carley, however, sleep did not soon come. She had too many aches; the +aftermath of her shock of fright abided with her; and the blackness of +night, the cold whip of wind over her face, and the unprotected +helplessness she felt in this novel bed, were too entirely new and +disturbing to be overcome at once. So she lay wide eyed, staring at the +dense gray shadow, at the flickering lights upon the cedar. At length her +mind formed a conclusion that this sort of thing might be worth the +hardship once in a lifetime, anyway. What a concession to Glenn's West! In +the secret seclusion of her mind she had to confess that if her vanity had +not been so assaulted and humiliated she might have enjoyed herself more. +It seemed impossible, however, to have thrills and pleasures and +exaltations in the face of discomfort, privation, and an uneasy +half-acknowledged fear. No woman could have either a good or a profitable +time when she was at her worst. Carley thought she would not be averse to +getting Flo Hutter to New York, into an atmosphere wholly strange and +difficult, and see how she met situation after situation unfamiliar to her. +And so Carley's mind drifted on until at last she succumbed to drowsiness. + + +A voice pierced her dreams of home, of warmth and comfort. Something sharp, +cold, and fragrant was scratching her eyes. She opened them. Glenn stood +over her, pushing a sprig of cedar into her face. + +"Carley, the day is far spent," he said, gayly. "We want to roll up your +bedding. Will you get out of it?" + +"Hello, Glenn! What time is it?" she replied. + +"It's nearly six." + +"What! . . . Do you expect me to get up at that ungodly hour?" + +"We're all up. Flo's eating breakfast. It's going to be a bad day, I'm +afraid. And we want to get packed and moving before it starts to rain." + +"Why do girls leave home?" she asked, tragically. + +"To make poor devils happy, of course," he replied, smiling down upon her. + +That smile made up to Carley for all the clamoring sensations of stiff, +sore muscles. It made her ashamed that she could not fling herself into +this adventure with all her heart. Carley essayed to sit up. "Oh, I'm +afraid my anatomy has become disconnected! . . . Glenn, do I look a +sight?" She never would have asked him that if she had not known she could +bear inspection at such an inopportune moment. + +"You look great," he asserted, heartily. "You've got color. And as for your +hair--I like to see it mussed that way. You were always one to have it +dressed--just so. . . . Come, Carley, rustle now." + +Thus adjured, Carley did her best under adverse circumstances. And she was +gritting her teeth and complimenting herself when she arrived at the task +of pulling on her boots. They were damp and her feet appeared to have +swollen. Moreover, her ankles were sore. But she accomplished getting into +them at the expense of much pain and sundry utterances more forcible than +elegant. Glenn brought her warm water, a mitigating circumstance. The +morning was cold and thought of that biting desert water had been trying. + +"Shore you're doing fine," was Flo's greeting. "Come and get it before we +throw it out." + +Carley made haste to comply with the Western mandate, and was once again +confronted with the singular fact that appetite did not wait upon the +troubles of a tenderfoot. Glenn remarked that at least she would not starve +to death on the trip. + +"Come, climb the ridge with me," he invited. "I want you to take a look to +the north and east." + +He led her off through the cedars, up a slow red-earth slope, away from the +lake. A green moundlike eminence topped with flat red rock appeared near at +hand and not at all a hard climb. Nevertheless, her eyes deceived her, as +she found to the cost of her breath. It was both far away and high. + +"I like this location," said Glenn. "If I had the money I'd buy this +section of land--six hundred and forty acres--and make a ranch of it. Just +under this bluff is a fine open flat bench for a cabin. You could see away +across the desert clear to Sunset Peak. There's a good spring of granite +water. I'd run water from the lake down into the lower flats, and I'd sure +raise some stock." + +"What do you call this place?" asked Carley, curiously. + +"Deep Lake. It's only a watering place for sheep and cattle. But there's +fine grazing, and it's a wonder to me no one has ever settled here." + +Looking down, Carley appreciated his wish to own the place; and immediately +there followed in her a desire to get possession of this tract of land +before anyone else discovered its advantages, and to hold it for Glenn. But +this would surely conflict with her intention of persuading Glenn to go +back East. As quickly as her impulse had been born it died. + +Suddenly the scene gripped Carley. She looked from near to far, trying to +grasp the illusive something. Wild lonely Arizona land! She saw ragged +dumpy cedars of gray and green, lines of red earth, and a round space of +water, gleaming pale under the lowering clouds; and in the distance +isolated hills, strangely curved, wandering away to a black uplift of earth +obscured in the sky. + +These appeared to be mere steps leading her sight farther and higher to the +cloud-navigated sky, where rosy and golden effulgence betokened the sun and +the east. Carley held her breath. A transformation was going on before her +eyes. + +"Carley, it's a stormy sunrise," said Glenn. + +His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this sudden-bursting +glory only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She could see the clouds +moving while they were being colored. The universal gray surrendered under +some magic paint brush. The rifts widened, and the gloom of the pale-gray +world seemed to vanish. Beyond the billowy, rolling, creamy edges of +clouds, white and pink, shone the soft exquisite fresh blue sky. And a +blaze of fire, a burst of molten gold, sheered up from behind the rim of +cloud and suddenly poured a sea of sunlight from east to west. It trans- +figured the round foothills. They seemed bathed in ethereal light, and the +silver mists that overhung them faded while Carley gazed, and a rosy flush +crowned the symmetrical domes. Southward along the horizon line, +down-dropping veils of rain, just touched with the sunrise tint, streamed +in drifting slow movement from cloud to earth. To the north the range of +foothills lifted toward the majestic dome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic +upheaval of red and purple cinders, bare as rock, round as the lower hills, +and wonderful in its color. Full in the blaze of the rising sun it flaunted +an unchangeable front. Carley understood now what had been told her about +this peak. Volcanic fires had thrown up a colossal mound of cinders burned +forever to the hues of the setting sun. In every light and shade of day it +held true to its name. Farther north rose the bold bulk of the San +Francisco Peaks, that, half lost in the clouds, still dominated the desert +scene. Then as Carley gazed the rifts began to close. Another +transformation began, the reverse of what she watched. The golden radiance +of sunrise vanished, and under a gray, lowering, coalescing pall of cloud +the round hills returned to their bleak somberness, and the green desert +took again its cold sheen. + +"Wasn't it fine, Carley?" asked Glenn. "But nothing to what you will +experience. I hope you stay till the weather gets warm. I want you to see a +summer dawn on the Painted Desert, and a noon with the great white clouds +rolling up from the horizon, and a sunset of massed purple and gold. If +they do not get you then I'll give up." + +Carley murmured something of her appreciation of what she had just seen. +Part of his remark hung on her ear, thought-provoking and disturbing. He +hoped she would stay until summer! That was kind of him. But her visit must +be short and she now intended it to end with his return East with her. If +she did not persuade him to go he might not want to go for a while, as he +had written--"just yet." Carley grew troubled in mind. Such mental +disturbance, however, lasted no longer than her return with Glenn to camp, +where the mustang Spillbeans stood ready for her to mount. He appeared to +put one ear up, the other down, and to look at her with mild surprise, as +if to say: "What--hello--tenderfoot! Are you going to ride me again?" + +Carley recalled that she had avowed she would ride him. There was no +alternative, and her misgivings only made matters worse. Nevertheless, once +in the saddle, she imagined she had the hallucination that to ride off so, +with the long open miles ahead, was really thrilling. This remarkable state +of mind lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, and then another day of +misery beckoned to Carley with gray stretches of distance. + +She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up the hours. +She saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; she saw the +ground clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hoping for sandy +places or rocky places where her mustang could not trot. + +At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which turned +out to be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so busy that he +had no time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at home on a horse +than on the ground, rode around everywhere with the men. Most assuredly +Carley could not pass by the chance to get off Spillbeans and to walk a +little. She found, however, that what she wanted most was to rest. The +cabin was deserted, a dark, damp place with a rank odor. She did not stay +long inside. + +Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be a +disagreeable prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered by a cup +of hot soup and some bread and butter which the herder Charley brought her. +By and by Glenn and Hutter returned with Flo, and all partook of some +lunch. + +All too soon Carley found herself astride the mustang again. Glenn helped +her don the slicker, an abominable sticky rubber coat that bundled her up +and tangled her feet round the stirrups. She was glad to find, though, that +it served well indeed to protect her from raw wind and rain. + +"Where do we go from here?" Carley inquired, ironically. + +Glenn laughed in a way which proved to Carley that he knew perfectly well +how she felt. Again his smile caused her self-reproach. Plain indeed was it +that he had really expected more of her in the way of complaint and less of +fortitude. Carley bit her lips. + +Thus began the afternoon ride. As it advanced the sky grew more +threatening, the wind rawer, the cold keener, and the rain cut like little +bits of sharp ice. It blew in Carley's face. Enough snow fell to whiten the +open patches of ground. In an hour Carley realized that she had the hardest +task of her life to ride to the end of the day's journey. No one could have +guessed her plight. Glenn complimented her upon her adaptation to such +unpleasant conditions. Flo evidently was on the lookout for the +tenderfoot's troubles. But as Spillbeans, had taken to lagging at a walk, +Carley was enabled to conceal all outward sign of her woes. It rained, +hailed, sleeted, snowed, and grew colder all the time. Carley's feet became +lumps of ice. Every step the mustang took sent acute pains ramifying from +bruised and raw places all over her body. + +Once, finding herself behind the others and out of sight in the cedars, she +got off to walk awhile, leading the mustang. This would not do, however, +because she fell too far in the rear. Mounting again, she rode on, +beginning to feel that nothing mattered, that this trip would be the end of +Carley Burch. How she hated that dreary, cold, flat land the road bisected +without end. It felt as if she rode hours to cover a mile. In open +stretches she saw the whole party straggling along, separated from one +another, and each for himself. They certainly could not be enjoying +themselves. Carley shut her eyes, clutched the pommel of the saddle, trying +to support her weight. How could she endure another mile? Alas! there might +be many miles. Suddenly a terrible shock seemed to rack her. But it was +only that Spillbeans had once again taken to a trot. Frantically she pulled +on the bridle. He was not to be thwarted. Opening her eyes, she saw a cabin +far ahead which probably was the destination for the night. Carley knew she +would never reach it, yet she clung on desperately. What she dreaded was +the return of that stablike pain in her side. It came, and life seemed +something abject and monstrous. She rode stiff legged, with her hands +propping her stiffly above the pommel, but the stabbing pain went right on, +and in deeper. When the mustang halted his trot beside the other horses +Carley was in the last extremity. Yet as Glenn came to her, offering a +hand, she still hid her agony. Then Flo called out gayly: "Carley, you've +done twenty-five miles on as rotten a day as I remember. Shore we all hand +it to you. And I'm confessing I didn't think you'd ever stay the ride out. +Spillbeans is the meanest nag we've got and he has the hardest gait." + + +CHAPTER V + +Later Carley leaned back in a comfortable seat, before a blazing fire that +happily sent its acrid smoke up the chimney, pondering ideas in her mind. + +There could be a relation to familiar things that was astounding in its +revelation. To get off a horse that had tortured her, to discover an almost +insatiable appetite, to rest weary, aching body before the genial warmth of +a beautiful fire--these were experiences which Carley found to have been +hitherto unknown delights. It struck her suddenly and strangely that to +know the real truth about anything in life might require infinite +experience and understanding. How could one feel immense gratitude and +relief, or the delight of satisfying acute hunger, or the sweet comfort of +rest, unless there had been circumstances of extreme contrast? She had been +compelled to suffer cruelly on horseback in order to make her appreciate +how good it was to get down on the ground. Otherwise she never would have +known. She wondered, then, how true that principle might be in all +experience. It gave strong food for thought. There were things in the world +never before dreamed of in her philosophy. + +Carley was wondering if she were narrow and dense to circumstances of life +differing from her own when a remark of Flo's gave pause to her +reflections. + +"Shore the worst is yet to come." Flo had drawled. + +Carley wondered if this distressing statement had to do in some way with +the rest of the trip. She stifled her curiosity. Painful knowledge of that +sort would come quickly enough. + +"Flo, are you girls going to sleep here in the cabin?" inquired Glenn. + +"Shore. It's cold and wet outside," replied Flo. + +"Well, Felix, the Mexican herder, told me some Navajos had been bunking +here." + +"Navajos? You mean Indians?" interposed Carley, with interest. + +"Shore do," said Flo. "I knew that. But don't mind Glenn. He's full of +tricks, Carley. He'd give us a hunch to lie out in the wet." + +Hutter burst into his hearty laugh. "Wal, I'd rather get some things anyday +than a bad cold." + +"Shore I've had both," replied Flo, in her easy drawl, "and I'd prefer the +cold. But for Carley's sake--" + +"Pray don't consider me," said Carley. The rather crude drift of the +conversation affronted her. + +"Well, my dear," put in Glenn, "it's a bad night outside. We'll all make +our beds here." + +"Glenn, you shore are a nervy fellow," drawled Flo. + +Long after everybody was in bed Carley lay awake in the blackness of the +cabin, sensitively fidgeting and quivering over imaginative contact with +creeping things. The fire had died out. A cold air passed through the room. +On the roof pattered gusts of rain. Carley heard a rustling of mice. It did +not seem possible that she could keep awake, yet she strove to do so. But +her pangs of body, her extreme fatigue soon yielded to the quiet and rest +of her bed, engendering a drowsiness that proved irresistible. + +Morning brought fair weather and sunshine, which helped to sustain Carley +in her effort to brave out her pains and woes. Another disagreeable day +would have forced her to humiliating defeat. Fortunately for her, the +business of the men was concerned with the immediate neighborhood, in which +they expected to stay all morning. + +"Flo, after a while persuade Carley to ride with you to the top of this +first foothill," said Glenn. "It's not far, and it's worth a good deal to +see the Painted Desert from there. The day is clear and the air free from +dust." + +"Shore. Leave it to me. I want to get out of camp, anyhow. That conceited +hombre, Lee Stanton, will be riding in here," answered Flo, laconically. + +The slight knowing smile on Glenn's face and the grinning disbelief on Mr. +Hutter's were facts not lost upon Carley. And when Charley, the herder, +deliberately winked at Carley, she conceived the idea that Flo, like many +women, only ran off to be pursued. In some manner Carley did not seek to +analyze, the purported advent of this Lee Stanton pleased her. But she did +admit to her consciousness that women, herself included, were both as deep +and mysterious as the sea, yet as transparent as an inch of crystal water. + +It happened that the expected newcomer rode into camp before anyone left. +Before he dismounted he made a good impression on Carley, and as he stepped +down in lazy, graceful action, a tall lithe figure, she thought him +singularly handsome. He wore black sombrero, flannel shirt, blue jeans +stuffed into high boots, and long, big-roweled spurs. + +"How are you-all?" was his greeting. + +From the talk that ensued between him and the men, Carley concluded that he +must be overseer of the sheep hands. Carley knew that Hutter and Glenn were +not interested in cattle raising. And in fact they were, especially Hutter, +somewhat inimical to the dominance of the range land by cattle barons of +Flagstaff. + +"When's Ryan goin' to dip?" asked Hutter. + +"Today or tomorrow," replied Stanton. + +"Reckon we ought to ride over," went on Hutter. "Say, Glenn, do you reckon +Miss Carley could stand a sheep-dip?" + +This was spoken in a low tone, scarcely intended for Carley, but she had +keen ears and heard distinctly. Not improbably this sheep-dip was what Flo +meant as the worst to come. Carley adopted a listless posture to hide her +keen desire to hear what Glenn would reply to Hutter. + +"I should say not!" whispered Glenn, fiercely. + +"Cut out that talk. She'll hear you and want to go." + +Whereupon Carley felt mount in her breast an intense and rebellious +determination to see a sheep-dip. She would astonish Glenn. What did he +want, anyway? Had she not withstood the torturing trot of the +hardest-gaited horse on the range? Carley realized she was going to place +considerable store upon that feat. It grew on her. + +When the consultation of the men ended, Lee Stanton turned to Flo. And +Carley did not need to see the young man look twice to divine what ailed +him. He was caught in the toils of love. But seeing through Flo Hutter was +entirely another matter. + +"Howdy, Lee!" she said, coolly, with her clear eyes on him. A tiny frown +knitted her brow. She did not, at the moment, entirely approve of him. + +"Shore am glad to see you, Flo," he said, with rather a heavy expulsion of +breath. He wore a cheerful grin that in no wise deceived Flo, or Carley +either. The young man had a furtive expression of eye. + +"Ahuh!" returned Flo. + +"I was shore sorry about--about that--" he floundered, in low voice. + +"About what?" + +"Aw, you know, Flo." + +Carley strolled out of hearing, sure of two things--that she felt rather +sorry for Stanton, and that his course of love did not augur well for +smooth running. What queer creatures were women! Carley had seen several +million coquettes, she believed; and assuredly Flo Hutter belonged to the +species. + +Upon Carley's return to the cabin she found Stanton and Flo waiting for her +to accompany them on a ride up the foothill. She was so stiff and sore that +she could hardly mount into the saddle; and the first mile of riding was +something like a nightmare. She lagged behind Flo and Stanton, who +apparently forgot her in their quarrel. + +The riders soon struck the base of a long incline of rocky ground that led +up to the slope of the foothill. Here rocks and gravel gave place to black +cinders out of which grew a scant bleached grass. This desert verdure was +what lent the soft gray shade to the foothill when seen from a distance. +The slope was gentle, so that the ascent did not entail any hardship. +Carley was amazed at the length of the slope, and also to see how high over +the desert she was getting. She felt lifted out of a monotonous level. A +green-gray league-long cedar forest extended down toward Oak Creek. Behind +her the magnificent bulk of the mountains reached up into the stormy +clouds, showing white slopes of snow under the gray pall. + +The hoofs of the horses sank in the cinders. A fine choking dust assailed +Carley's nostrils. Presently, when there appeared at least a third of the +ascent still to be accomplished and Flo dismounted to walk, leading their +horses. Carley had no choice but to do likewise. At first walking was a +relief. Soon, however, the soft yielding cinders began to drag at her feet. +At every step she slipped back a few inches, a very annoying feature of +climbing. When her legs seemed to grow dead Carley paused for a little +rest. The last of the ascent, over a few hundred yards of looser cinders, +taxed her remaining strength to the limit. She grew hot and wet and out of +breath. Her heart labored. An unreasonable antipathy seemed to attend her +efforts. Only her ridiculous vanity held her to this task. She wanted to +please Glenn, but not so earnestly that she would have kept on plodding up +this ghastly bare mound of cinders. Carley did not mind being a tenderfoot, +but she hated the thought of these Westerners considering her a weakling. +So she bore the pain of raw blisters and the miserable sensation of +staggering on under a leaden weight. + +Several times she noted that Flo and Stanton halted to face each other in +rather heated argument. At least Stanton's red face and forceful gestures +attested to heat on his part. Flo evidently was weary of argument, and in +answer to a sharp reproach she retorted, "Shore I was different after he +came." To which Stanton responded by a quick passionate shrinking as if he +had been stung. + +Carley had her own reaction to this speech she could not help hearing; and +inwardly, at least, her feeling must have been similar to Stanton's. She +forgot the object of this climb and looked off to her right at the green +level without really seeing it. A vague sadness weighed upon her soul. Was +there to be a tangle of fates here, a conflict of wills, a crossing of +loves? Flo's terse confession could not be taken lightly. Did she mean that +she loved Glenn? Carley began to fear it. Only another reason why she must +persuade Glenn to go back East! But the closer Carley came to what she +divined must be an ordeal the more she dreaded it. This raw, crude West +might have confronted her with a situation beyond her control. And as she +dragged her weighted feet through the cinders, kicking, up little puffs of +black dust, she felt what she admitted to be an unreasonable resentment +toward these Westerners and their barren, isolated, and boundless world. + +"Carley," called Flo, "come--looksee, as the Indians say. Here is Glenn's +Painted Desert, and I reckon it's shore worth seeing." + +To Carley's surprise, she found herself upon the knob of the foothill. And +when she looked out across a suddenly distinguishable void she seemed +struck by the immensity of something she was unable to grasp. She dropped +her bridle; she gazed slowly, as if drawn, hearing Flo's voice. + +"That thin green line of cottonwoods down there is the Little Colorado +River," Flo was saying. "Reckon it's sixty miles, all down hill. The +Painted Desert begins there and also the Navajo Reservation. You see the +white strips, the red veins, the yellow bars, the black lines. They are all +desert steps leading up and up for miles. That sharp black peak is called +Wildcat. It's about a hundred miles. You see the desert stretching away to +the right, growing dim--lost in distance? We don't know that country. But +that north country we know as landmarks, anyway. Look at that saw-tooth +range. The Indians call it Echo Cliffs. At the far end it drops off into +the Colorado River. Lee's Ferry is there--about one hundred and sixty +miles. That ragged black rent is the Grand Canyon. Looks like a thread, +doesn't it? But Carley, it's some hole, believe me. Away to the left you +see the tremendous wall rising and turning to come this way. That's the +north wall of the Canyon. It ends at the great bluff--Greenland Point. See +the black fringe above the bar of gold. That's a belt of pine trees. It's +about eighty miles across this ragged old stone washboard of a desert. +. . . Now turn and look straight and strain your sight over Wildcat. See +the rim purple dome. You must look hard. I'm glad it's clear and the sun is +shining. We don't often get this view. . . . That purple dome is Navajo +Mountain, two hundred miles and more away!" + +Carley yielded to some strange drawing power and slowly walked forward +until she stood at the extreme edge of the summit. + +What was it that confounded her sight? Desert slope--down and down--color-- +distance--space! The wind that blew in her face seemed to have the openness +of the whole world back of it. Cold, sweet, dry, exhilarating, it breathed +of untainted vastness. Carley's memory pictures of the Adirondacks faded +into pastorals; her vaunted images of European scenery changed to operetta +settings. She had nothing with which to compare this illimitable space. + +"Oh!--America!" was her unconscious tribute. + +Stanton and Flo had come on to places beside her. The young man laughed. +"Wal, now Miss Carley, you couldn't say more. When I was in camp trainin' +for service overseas I used to remember how this looked. An' it seemed one +of the things I was goin' to fight for. Reckon I didn't the idea of the +Germans havin' my Painted Desert. I didn't get across to fight for it, but +I shore was willin'." + +"You see, Carley, this is our America," said Flo, softly. + +Carley had never understood the meaning of the word. The immensity of the +West seemed flung at her. What her vision beheld, so far-reaching and +boundless, was only a dot on the map. + +"Does any one live--out there?" she asked, with slow sweep of hand. + +"A few white traders and some Indian tribes," replied Stanton. "But you can +ride all day an' next day an' never see a livin' soul." + +What was the meaning of the gratification in his voice? Did Westerners +court loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look at +her companions. Stanton's eyes were narrowed; his expression had changed; +lean and hard and still, his face resembled bronze. The careless humor was +gone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with Flo. The girl, too, had +subtly changed, had responded to an influence that had subdued and softened +her. She was mute; her eyes held a light, comprehensive and all-embracing; +she was beautiful then. For Carley, quick to read emotion, caught a glimpse +of a strong, steadfast soul that spiritualized the brown freckled face. + +Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incomprehensible abyss, and +on to the far up-flung heights, white and red and yellow, and so on to the +wonderful mystic haze of distance. The significance of Flo's designation of +miles could not be grasped by Carley. She could not estimate distance. But +she did not need that to realize her perceptions were swallowed up by +magnitude. Hitherto the power of her eyes had been unknown. How splendid to +see afar! She could see--yes--but what did she see? Space first, +annihilating space, dwarfing her preconceived images, and then wondrous +colors! What had she known of color? No wonder artists failed adequately +and truly to paint mountains, let alone the desert space. The toiling +millions of the crowded cities were ignorant of this terrible beauty and +sublimity. Would it have helped them to see? But just to breathe that +untainted air, just to see once the boundless open of colored sand and +rock--to realize what the freedom of eagles meant would not that have +helped anyone? + +And with the thought there came to Carley's quickened and struggling mind a +conception of freedom. She had not yet watched eagles, but she now gazed +out into their domain. What then must be the effect of such environment on +people whom it encompassed? The idea stunned Carley. Would such people grow +in proportion to the nature with which they were in conflict? Hereditary +influence could not be comparable to such environment in the shaping of +character. + +"Shore I could stand here all day," said Flo. "But it's beginning to cloud +over and this high wind is cold. So we'd better go, Carley." + +"I don't know what I am, but it's not cold," replied Carley. + +"Wal, Miss Carley, I reckon you'll have to come again an' again before you +get a comfortable feelin' here," said Stanton. + +It surprised Carley to see that this young Westerner had hit upon the +truth. He understood her. Indeed she was uncomfortable. She was oppressed, +vaguely unhappy. But why? The thing there--the infinitude of open sand and +rock--was beautiful, wonderful, even glorious. She looked again. + +Steep black-cindered slope, with its soft gray patches of grass, sheered +down and down, and out in rolling slope to merge upon a cedar-dotted level. +Nothing moved below, but a red-tailed hawk sailed across her vision. How +still--how gray the desert floor as it reached away, losing its black dots, +and gaining bronze spots of stone! By plain and prairie it fell away, each +inch of gray in her sight magnifying into its league-long roll. On and on, +and down across dark lines that were steppes, and at last blocked and +changed by the meandering green thread which was the verdure of a desert +river. Beyond stretched the white sand, where whirlwinds of dust sent aloft +their funnel-shaped spouts; and it led up to the horizon-wide ribs and +ridges of red and walls of yellow and mountains of black, to the dim mound +of purple so ethereal and mystic against the deep-blue cloud-curtained band +of sky. + +And on the moment the sun was obscured and that world of colorful flame +went out, as if a blaze had died. + +Deprived of its fire, the desert seemed to retreat, to fade coldly and +gloomily, to lose its great landmarks in dim obscurity. Closer, around to +the north, the canyon country yawned with innumerable gray jaws, ragged and +hard, and the riven earth took on a different character. It had no shadows. +It grew flat and, like the sea, seemed to mirror the vast gray cloud +expanse. The sublime vanished, but the desolate remained. No warmth--no +movement--no life! Dead stone it was, cut into a million ruts by ruthless +ages. Carley felt that she was gazing down into chaos. + +At this moment, as before, a hawk had crossed her vision, so now a raven +sailed by, black as coal, uttering a hoarse croak. + +"Quoth the raven--" murmured Carley, with a half-bitter laugh, as she +turned away shuddering in spite of an effort of self-control. "Maybe he +meant this wonderful and terrible West is never for such as I. . . . Come, +let us go." + +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. + +At this point the members of Hutter's party dismounted and tied their +horses to the top log of the fence. When Carley essayed to get off Glenn +tried to stop her, saying she could see well enough from there. But Carley +got down and followed Flo. She heard Hutter call to Glenn: "Say, Ryan is +short of men. We'll lend a hand for a couple of hours." + +Presently Carley reached Flo's side and the first corral that contained +sheep. They formed a compact woolly mass, rather white in color, with a +tinge of pink. When Flo climbed up on the fence the flock plunged as one +animal and with a trampling roar ran to the far side of the corral. Several +old rams with wide curling horns faced around; and some of the ewes climbed +up on the densely packed mass. Carley rather enjoyed watching them. She +surely could not see anything amiss in this sight. + +The next corral held a like number of sheep, and also several Mexicans who +were evidently driving them into a narrow lane that led farther down. +Carley saw the heads of men above other corral fences, and there was also a +thick yellowish smoke rising from somewhere. + +"Carley, are you game to see the dip?" asked Flo, with good nature that yet +had a touch of taunt in it. + +"That's my middle name," retorted Carley, flippantly. + +Both Glenn and this girl seemed to be bent upon bringing out Carley's worst +side, and they were succeeding. Flo laughed. The ready slang pleased her. + +She led Carley along that log fence, through a huge open gate, and across a +wide pen to another fence, which she scaled. Carley followed her, not +particularly overanxious to look ahead. Some thick odor had begun to reach +Carley's delicate nostrils. Flo led down a short lane and climbed another +fence, and sat astride the top log. Carley hurried along to clamber up to +her side, but stood erect with her feet on the second log of the fence. + +Then a horrible stench struck Carley almost like a blow in the face, and +before her confused sight there appeared to be drifting smoke and active +men and running sheep, all against a background of mud. But at first it was +the odor that caused Carley to close her eyes and press her knees hard +against the upper log to keep from reeling. Never in her life had such a +sickening nausea assailed her. It appeared to attack her whole body. The +forerunning qualm of seasickness was as nothing to this. Carley gave a +gasp, pinched her nose between her fingers so she could not smell, and +opened her eyes. + +Directly beneath her was a small pen open at one end into which sheep were +being driven from the larger corral. The drivers were yelling. The sheep in +the rear plunged into those ahead of them, forcing them on. Two men worked +in this small pen. One was a brawny giant in undershirt and overalls that +appeared filthy. He held a cloth in his hand and strode toward the nearest +sheep. Folding the cloth round the neck of the sheep, he dragged it +forward, with an ease which showed great strength, and threw it into a pit +that yawned at the side. Souse went the sheep into a murky, muddy pool and +disappeared. But suddenly its head came up and then its shoulders. And it +began half to walk and half swim down what appeared to be a narrow boxlike +ditch that contained other floundering sheep. Then Carley saw men on each +side of this ditch bending over with poles that had crooks at the end, and +their work was to press and pull the sheep along to the end of the ditch, +and drive them up a boarded incline into another corral where many other +sheep huddled, now a dirty muddy color like the liquid into which they had +been emersed. Souse! Splash! In went sheep after sheep. Occasionally one +did not go under. And then a man would press it under with the crook and +quickly lift its head. The work went on with precision and speed, in spite +of the yells and trampling and baa-baas, and the incessant action that gave +an effect of confusion. + +Carley saw a pipe leading from a huge boiler to the ditch. The dark fluid +was running out of it. From a rusty old engine with big smokestack poured +the strangling smoke. A man broke open a sack of yellow powder and dumped +it into the ditch. Then he poured an acid-like liquid after it. + +"Sulphur and nicotine," yelled Flo up at Carley. "The dip's poison. If a +sheep opens his mouth he's usually a goner. But sometimes they save one." + +Carley wanted to tear herself away from this disgusting spectacle. But it +held her by some fascination. She saw Glenn and Hutter fall in line with +the other men, and work like beavers. These two pacemakers in the small pen +kept the sheep coming so fast that every worker below had a task cut out +for him. Suddenly Flo squealed and pointed. + +"There! that sheep didn't come up," she cried. "Shore he opened his mouth." + +Then Carley saw Glenn energetically plunge his hooked pole in and out and +around until he had located the submerged sheep. He lifted its head above +the dip. The sheep showed no sign of life. Down on his knees dropped Glenn, +to reach the sheep with strong brown hands, and to haul it up on the +ground, where it flopped inert. Glenn pummeled it and pressed it, and +worked on it much as Carley had seen a life-guard work over a half-drowned +man. But the sheep did not respond to Glenn's active administrations. + +"No use, Glenn," yelled Hutter, hoarsely. "That one's a goner." + +Carley did not fail to note the state of Glenn's hands and arms and +overalls when he returned to the ditch work. Then back and forth Carley's +gaze went from one end to the other of that scene. And suddenly it was +arrested and held by the huge fellow who handled the sheep so brutally. +Every time he dragged one and threw it into the pit he yelled: "Ho! Ho!" +Carley was impelled to look at his face, and she was amazed to meet the +rawest and boldest stare from evil eyes that had ever been her misfortune +to incite. She felt herself stiffen with a shock that was unfamiliar. This +man was scarcely many years older than Glenn, yet he had grizzled hair, a +seamed and scarred visage, coarse, thick lips, and beetling brows, from +under which peered gleaming light eyes. At every turn he flashed them upon +Carley's face, her neck, the swell of her bosom. It was instinct that +caused her hastily to close her riding coat. She felt as if her flesh had +been burned. Like a snake he fascinated her. The intelligence in his bold +gaze made the beastliness of it all the harder to endure, all the stronger +to arouse. + +"Come, Carley, let's rustle out of this stinkin' mess," cried Flo. + +Indeed, Carley needed Flo's assistance in clambering down out of the +choking smoke and horrid odor. + +"Adios, pretty eyes," called the big man from the pen. + +"Well," ejaculated Flo, when they got out, "I'll bet I call Glenn good and +hard for letting you go down there." + +"It was--my--fault," panted Carley. "I said I'd stand it." + +"Oh, you're game, all right. I didn't mean the dip. . . . That +sheep-slinger is Haze Ruff, the toughest hombre on this range. Shore, now, +wouldn't I like to take a shot at him? . . . I'm going to tell dad and +Glenn." + +"Please don't," returned Carley, appealingly. + +"I shore am. Dad needs hands these days. That's why he's lenient. But Glenn +will cowhide Ruff and I want to see him do it." + +In Flo Hutter then Carley saw another and a different spirit of the West, a +violence unrestrained and fierce that showed in the girl's even voice and +in the piercing light of her eyes. + +They went back to the horses, got their lunches from the saddlebags, and, +finding comfortable seats in a sunny, protected place, they ate and talked. +Carley had to force herself to swallow. It seemed that the horrid odor of +dip and sheep had permeated everything. Glenn had known her better than she +had known herself, and he had wished to spare her an unnecessary and +disgusting experience. Yet so stubborn was Carley that she did not regret +going through with it. + +"Carley, I don't mind telling you that you've stuck it out better than any +tenderfoot we ever had here," said Flo. + +"Thank you. That from a Western girl is a compliment I'll not soon forget," +replied Carley. + +"I shore mean it. We've had rotten weather. And to end the little trip at +this sheep-dip hole! Why, Glenn certainly wanted you to stack up against +the real thing!" + +"Flo, he did not want me to come on the trip, and especially here," +protested Carley. + +"Shore I know. But he let you." + +"Neither Glenn nor any other man could prevent me from doing what I wanted +to do." + +"Well, if you'll excuse me," drawled Flo, "I'll differ with you. I reckon +Glenn Kilbourne is not the man you knew before the war." + +"No, he is not. But that does not alter the case." + +"Carley, we're not well acquainted," went on Flo, more carefully feeling +her way, "and I'm not your kind. I don't know your Eastern ways. But I know +what the West does to a man. The war ruined your friend--both his body and +mind. . . . How sorry mother and I were for Glenn, those days when it +looked he'd sure 'go west,' for good! . . . Did you know he'd been gassed +and that he had five hemorrhages?" + +"Oh! I knew his lungs had been weakened by gas. But he never told me about +having hemorrhages." + +"Well, he shore had them. The last one I'll never forget. Every time he'd +cough it would fetch the blood. I could tell! . . . Oh, it was awful. I +begged him not to cough. He smiled--like a ghost smiling--and he whispered, +'I'll quit.' . . . And he did. The doctor came from Flagstaff and packed +him in ice. Glenn sat propped up all night and never moved a muscle. Never +coughed again! And the bleeding stopped. After that we put him out on the +porch where he could breathe fresh air all the time. There's something +wonderfully healing in Arizona air. It's from the dry desert and here it's +full of cedar and pine. Anyway Glenn got well. And I think the West has +cured his mind, too." + +"Of what?" queried Carley, in an intense curiosity she could scarcely hide. + +"Oh, God only knows!" exclaimed Flo, throwing up her gloved hands. "I never +could understand. But I hated what the war did to him." + +Carley leaned back against the log, quite spent. Flo was unwittingly +torturing her. Carley wanted passionately to give in to jealousy of this +Western girl, but she could not do it. Flo Hutter deserved better than +that. And Carley's baser nature seemed in conflict with all that was noble +in her. The victory did not yet go to either side. This was a bad hour for +Carley. Her strength had about played out, and her spirit was at low ebb. + +"Carley, you're all in," declared Flo. "You needn't deny it. I'm shore +you've made good with me as a tenderfoot who stayed the limit. But there's +no sense in your killing yourself, nor in me letting you. So I'm going to +tell dad we want to go home." + +She left Carley there. The word home had struck strangely into Carley's +mind and remained there. Suddenly she realized what it was to be homesick. +The comfort, the ease, the luxury, the rest, the sweetness, the pleasure, +the cleanliness, the gratification to eye and ear--to all the senses--how +these thoughts came to haunt her! All of Carley's will power had been +needed to sustain her on this trip to keep her from miserably failing. She +had not failed. But contact with the West had affronted, disgusted, +shocked, and alienated her. In that moment she could not be fair minded; +she knew it; she did not care. + +Carley gazed around her. Only one of the cabins was in sight from this +position. Evidently it was a home for some of these men. On one side the +peaked rough roof had been built out beyond the wall, evidently to serve as +a kind of porch. On that wall hung the motliest assortment of things Carley +had ever seen--utensils, sheep and cow hides, saddles, harness, leather +clothes, ropes, old sombreros, shovels, stove pipe, and many other articles +for which she could find no name. The most striking characteristic manifest +in this collection was that of service. How they had been used! They had +enabled people to live under primitive conditions. Somehow this fact +inhibited Carley's sense of repulsion at their rude and uncouth appearance. +Had any of her forefathers ever been pioneers? Carley did not know, but the +thought was disturbing. It was thought-provoking. Many times at home, when +she was dressing for dinner, she had gazed into the mirror at the graceful +lines of her throat and arms, at the proud poise of her head, at the +alabaster whiteness of her skin, and wonderingly she had asked of her image: +"Can it be possible that I am a descendant of cavemen?" She had never been +able to realize it, yet she knew it was true. Perhaps somewhere not far +back along her line there had been a great-great-grandmother who had lived +some kind of a primitive life, using such implements and necessaries as +hung on this cabin wall, and thereby helped some man to conquer the +wilderness, to live in it, and reproduce his kind. Like flashes Glenn's +words came back to Carley--"Work and children!" + +Some interpretation of his meaning and how it related to this hour held +aloof from Carley. If she would ever be big enough to understand it and +broad enough to accept it the time was far distant. Just now she was sore +and sick physically, and therefore certainly not in a receptive state of +mind. Yet how could she have keener impressions than these she was +receiving? It was all a problem. She grew tired of thinking. But even then +her mind pondered on, a stream of consciousness over which she had no +control. This dreary woods was deserted. No birds, no squirrels, no +creatures such as fancy anticipated! In another direction, across the +canyon, she saw cattle, gaunt, ragged, lumbering, and stolid. And on the +moment the scent of sheep came on the breeze. Time seemed to stand still +here, and what Carley wanted most was for the hours and days to fly, so +that she would be home again. + +At last Flo returned with the men. One quick glance at Glenn convinced +Carley that Flo had not yet told him about the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. + +"Carley, you're a real sport," declared Glenn, with the rare smile she +loved. "It's a dreadful mess. And to think you stood it! . . . Why, old +Fifth Avenue, if you needed to make another hit with me you've done it!" + +His warmth amazed and pleased Carley. She could not quite understand why it +would have made any difference to him whether she had stood the ordeal or +not. But then every day she seemed to drift a little farther from a real +understanding of her lover. His praise gladdened her, and fortified her to +face the rest of this ride back to Oak Creek. + +Four hours later, in a twilight so shadowy that no one saw her distress, +Carley half slipped and half fell from her horse and managed somehow to +mount the steps and enter the bright living room. A cheerful red fire +blazed on the hearth; Glenn's hound, Moze, trembled eagerly at sight of her +and looked up with humble dark eyes; the white-clothed dinner table steamed +with savory dishes. Flo stood before the blaze, warming her hands. Lee +Stanton leaned against the mantel, with eyes on her, and every line of his +lean, hard face expressed his devotion to her. Hutter was taking his seat +at the head of the table. "Come an' get it--you-all," he called, heartily. +Mrs. Hutter's face beamed with the spirit of that home. And lastly, Carley +saw Glenn waiting for her, watching her come, true in this very moment to +his stern hope for her and pride in her, as she dragged her weary, spent +body toward him and the bright fire. + +By these signs, or the effect of them, Carley vaguely realized that she was +incalculably changing, that this Carley Burch had become a vastly bigger +person in the sight of her friends, and strangely in her own a lesser +creature. + + +CHAPTER VI + +If spring came at all to Oak Creek Canyon it warmed into summer before +Carley had time to languish with the fever characteristic of early June in +the East. + +As if by magic it seemed the green grass sprang up, the green buds opened +into leaves, the bluebells and primroses bloomed, the apple and peach +blossoms burst exquisitely white and pink against the blue sky. Oak Creek +fell to a transparent, beautiful brook, leisurely eddying in the stone +walled nooks, hurrying with murmur and babble over the little falls. The +mornings broke clear and fragrantly cool, the noon hours seemed to lag +under a hot sun, the nights fell like dark mantles from the melancholy +star-sown sky. + +Carley had stubbornly kept on riding and climbing until she killed her +secret doubt that she was really a thoroughbred, until she satisfied her +own insistent vanity that she could train to a point where this outdoor +life was not too much for her strength. She lost flesh despite increase of +appetite; she lost her pallor for a complexion of gold-brown she knew her +Eastern friends would admire; she wore out the blisters and aches and +pains; she found herself growing firmer of muscle, lither of line, deeper +of chest. And in addition to these physical manifestations there were +subtle intimations of a delight in a freedom of body she had never before +known, of an exhilaration in action that made her hot and made her breathe, +of a sloughing off of numberless petty and fussy and luxurious little +superficialities which she had supposed were necessary to her happiness. +What she had undertaken in vain conquest of Glenn's pride and Flo Hutter's +Western tolerance she had found to be a boomerang. She had won Glenn's +admiration; she had won the Western girl's recognition. But her passionate, +stubborn desire had been ignoble, and was proved so by the rebound of her +achievement, coming home to her with a sweetness she had not the courage to +accept. She forced it from her. This West with its rawness, its ruggedness, +she hated. + +Nevertheless, the June days passed, growing dreamily swift, growing more +incomprehensibly full; and still she had not broached to Glenn the main +object of her visit--to take him back East. Yet a little while longer! She +hated his work and had not talked of that. Yet an honest consciousness told +her that as time flew by she feared more and more to tell him that he was +wasting his life there and that she could not bear it. Still was he wasting +it? Once in a while a timid and unfamiliar Carley Burch voiced a pregnant +query. Perhaps what held Carley back most was the happiness she achieved in +her walks and rides with Glenn. She lingered because of them. Every day she +loved him more, and yet--there was something. Was it in her or in him? She +had a woman's assurance of his love and sometimes she caught her breath--so +sweet and strong was the tumultuous emotion it stirred. She preferred to +enjoy while she could, to dream instead of think. But it was not possible +to hold a blank, dreamy, lulled consciousness all the time. Thought would +return. And not always could she drive away a feeling that Glenn would +never be her slave. She divined something in his mind that kept him gentle +and kindly, restrained always, sometimes melancholy and aloof, as if he +were an impassive destiny waiting for the iron consequences he knew +inevitably must fall. What was this that he knew which she did not know? +The idea haunted her. Perhaps it was that which compelled her to use all +her woman's wiles and charms on Glenn. Still, though it thrilled her to see +she made him love her more as the days passed, she could not blind herself +to the truth that no softness or allurement of hers changed this strange +restraint in him. How that baffled her! Was it resistance or knowledge or +nobility or doubt? + +Flo Hutter's twentieth birthday came along the middle of June, and all the +neighbors and range hands for miles around were invited to celebrate it. + +For the second time during her visit Carley put on the white gown that had +made Flo gasp with delight, and had stunned Mrs. Hutter, and had brought a +reluctant compliment from Glenn. Carley liked to create a sensation. What +were exquisite and expensive gowns for, if not that? + +It was twilight on this particular June night when she was ready to go +downstairs, and she tarried a while on the long porch. The evening star, so +lonely and radiant, so cold and passionless in the dusky blue, had become +an object she waited for and watched, the same as she had come to love the +dreaming, murmuring melody of the waterfall. She lingered there. What had +the sights and sounds and smells of this wild canyon come to mean to her? +She could not say. But they had changed her immeasurably. + +Her soft slippers made no sound on the porch, and as she turned the corner +of the house, where shadows hovered thick, she heard Lee Stanton's voice: + +"But, Flo, you loved me before Kilbourne came." + +The content, the pathos, of his voice chained Carley to the spot. Some +situations, like fate, were beyond resisting. + +"Shore I did," replied Flo, dreamily. This was the voice of a girl who was +being confronted by happy and sad thoughts on her birthday. + +"Don't you--love me--still?" he asked, huskily. + +"Why, of course, Lee! I don't change," she said. + +"But then, why--" There for the moment his utterance or courage failed. + +"Lee, do you want the honest to God's truth?" + +"I reckon--I do." + +"Well, I love you just as I always did," replied Flo, earnestly. "But, Lee, +I love him more than you or anybody." + +"My Heaven! Flo--you'll ruin us all!" he exclaimed, hoarsely. + +"No, I won't either. You can't say I'm not level headed. I hated to tell +you this, Lee, but you made me." + +"Flo, you love me an' him--two men?" queried Stanton, incredulously. + +"I shore do," she drawled, with a soft laugh. "And it's no fun." + +"Reckon I don't cut much of a figure alongside Kilbourne," said Stanton, +disconsolately. + +"Lee, you could stand alongside any man," replied Flo, eloquently. "You're +Western, and you're steady and loyal, and you'll--well, some day you'll be +like dad. Could I say more? . . . But, Lee, this man is different. He is +wonderful. I can't explain it, but I feel it. He has been through hell's +fire. Oh! will I ever forget his ravings when he lay so ill? He means more +to me than just one man. He's American. You're American, too, Lee, and you +trained to be a soldier, and you would have made a grand one--if I know old +Arizona. But you were not called to France. . . . Glenn Kilbourne went. God +only knows what that means. But he went. And there's the difference. I saw +the wreck of him. I did a little to save his life and his mind. I wouldn't +be an American girl if I didn't love him. . . . Oh, Lee, can't you +understand?" + +"I reckon so. I'm not begrudging Glenn what--what you care. I'm only afraid +I'll lose you." + +"I never promised to marry you, did I?" + +"Not in words. But kisses ought to--?" + +"Yes, kisses mean a lot," she replied. "And so far I stand committed. I +suppose I'll marry you some day and be blamed lucky. I'll be happy, too-- +don't you overlook that hunch. . . . You needn't worry. Glenn is in love +with Carley. She's beautiful, rich--and of his class. How could he ever see +me?" + +"Flo, you can never tell," replied Stanton, thoughtfully. "I didn't like +her at first. But I'm comin' round. The thing is, Flo, does she love him as +you love him?" + +"Oh, I think so--I hope so," answered Flo, as if in distress. + +"I'm not so shore. But then I can't savvy her. Lord knows I hope so, too. +If she doesn't--if she goes back East an' leaves him here--I reckon my +case--" + +"Hush! I know she's out here to take him back. Let's go downstairs now." + +"Aw, wait--Flo," he begged. "What's your hurry? . . . Come-give me--" + +"There! That's all you get, birthday or no birthday," replied Flo, gayly. + +Carley heard the soft kiss and Stanton's deep breath, and then footsteps as +they walked away in the gloom toward the stairway. Carley leaned against +the log wall. She felt the rough wood--smelled the rusty pine rosin. Her +other hand pressed her bosom where her heart beat with unwonted vigor. +Footsteps and voices sounded beneath her. Twilight had deepened into night. +The low murmur of the waterfall and the babble of the brook floated to her +strained ears. + +Listeners never heard good of themselves. But Stanton's subtle doubt of any +depth to her, though it hurt, was not so conflicting as the ringing truth +of Flo Hutter's love for Glenn. This unsought knowledge powerfully affected +Carley. She was forewarned and forearmed now. It saddened her, yet did not +lessen her confidence in her hold on Glenn. But it stirred to perplexing +pitch her curiosity in regard to the mystery that seemed to cling round +Glenn's transformation of character. This Western girl really knew more +about Glenn than his fiancee knew. Carley suffered a humiliating shock when +she realized that she had been thinking of herself, of her love, her life, +her needs, her wants instead of Glenn's. It took no keen intelligence or +insight into human nature to see that Glenn needed her more than she needed +him. + +Thus unwontedly stirred and upset and flung back upon pride of herself, +Carley went downstairs to meet the assembled company. And never had she +shown to greater contrast, never had circumstance and state of mind +contrived to make her so radiant and gay and unbending. She heard many +remarks not intended for her far-reaching ears. An old grizzled Westerner +remarked to Hutter: "Wall, she's shore an unbroke filly." Another of the +company--a woman--remarked: "Sweet an' pretty as a columbine. But I'd like +her better if she was dressed decent." And a gaunt range rider, who stood +with others at the porch door, looking on, asked a comrade: "Do you reckon +that's style back East?" To which the other replied: "Mebbe, but I'd gamble +they're short on silk back East an' likewise sheriffs." + +Carley received some meed of gratification out of the sensation she +created, but she did not carry her craving for it to the point of +overshadowing Flo. On the contrary, she contrived to have Flo share the +attention she received. She taught Flo to dance the fox-trot and got Glenn +to dance with her. Then she taught it to Lee Stanton. And when Lee danced +with Flo, to the infinite wonder and delight of the onlookers, Carley +experienced her first sincere enjoyment of the evening. + +Her moment came when she danced with Glenn. It reminded her of days long +past and which she wanted to return again. Despite war tramping and Western +labors Glenn retained something of his old grace and lightness. But just to +dance with him was enough to swell her heart, and for once she grew +oblivious to the spectators. + +"Glenn, would you like to go to the Plaza with me again, and dance between +dinner courses, as we used to?" she whispered up to him. + +"Sure I would--unless Morrison knew you were to be there," he replied. + +"Glenn! . . . I would not even see him." + +"Any old time you wouldn't see Morrison!" he exclaimed, half mockingly. + +His doubt, his tone grated upon her. Pressing closer to him, she said, +"Come back and I'll prove it." + +But he laughed and had no answer for her. At her own daring words Carley's +heart had leaped to her lips. If he had responded, even teasingly, she +could have burst out with her longing to take him back. But silence +inhibited her, and the moment passed. + +At the end of that dance Hutter claimed Glenn in the interest of +neighboring sheep men. And Carley, crossing the big living room alone, +passed close to one of the porch doors. Some one, indistinct in the shadow, +spoke to her in low voice: "Hello, pretty eyes!" + +Carley felt a little cold shock go tingling through her. But she gave no +sign that she had heard. She recognized the voice and also the epithet. +Passing to the other side of the room and joining the company there, Carley +presently took a casual glance at the door. Several men were lounging +there. One of them was the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. His bold eyes were on +her now, and his coarse face wore a slight, meaning smile, as if he +understood something about her that was a secret to others. Carley dropped +her eyes. But she could not shake off the feeling that wherever she moved +this man's gaze followed her. The unpleasantness of this incident would +have been nothing to Carley had she at once forgotten it. Most +unaccountably, however, she could not make herself unaware of this +ruffian's attention. It did no good for her to argue that she was merely +the cynosure of all eyes. This Ruff's tone and look possessed something +heretofore unknown to Carley. Once she was tempted to tell Glenn. But that +would only cause a fight, so she kept her counsel. She danced again, and +helped Flo entertain her guests, and passed that door often; and once stood +before it, deliberately, with all the strange and contrary impulse so +inscrutable in a woman, and never for a moment wholly lost the sense of the +man's boldness. It dawned upon her, at length, that the singular thing +about this boldness was its difference from any, which had ever before +affronted her. The fool's smile meant that he thought she saw his +attention, and, understanding it perfectly, had secret delight in it. Many +and various had been the masculine egotisms which had come under her +observation. But quite beyond Carley was this brawny sheep dipper, Haze +Ruff. Once the party broke up and the guests had departed, she instantly +forgot both man and incident. + +Next day, late in the afternoon, when Carley came out on the porch, she was +hailed by Flo, who had just ridden in from down the canyon. + +"Hey Carley, come down. I shore have something to tell you," she called. + +Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway. Flo +was dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of +sheep-dip. + +"Been over to Ryan's camp an' shore rode hard to beat Glenn home," drawled +Flo. + +"Why?" queried Carley, eagerly. + +"Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn't let me tell. +. . . He makes me tired. He thinks you can't stand things." + +"Oh! Has he been--hurt?" + +"He's skinned an' bruised up some, but I reckon he's not hurt." + +"Flo--what happened?" demanded Carley, anxiously. + +"Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?" asked Flo. + +"No, I don't. But I remember he used to be athletic. Flo, you make me +nervous. Did Glenn fight?" + +"I reckon he did," drawled Flo. + +"With whom?" + +"Nobody else but that big hombre, Haze Ruff." + +"Oh!" gasped Carley, with a violent start. "That--that ruffian! Flo, did +you see--were you there?" + +"I shore was, an' next to a horse race I like a fight," replied the Western +girl. "Carley, why didn't you tell me Haze Ruff insulted you last night?" + +"Why, Flo--he only said, 'Hello, pretty eyes,' and I let it pass!" said +Carley, lamely. + +"You never want to let anything pass, out West. Because next time you'll +get worse. This turn your other cheek doesn't go in Arizona. But we shore +thought Ruff said worse than that. Though from him that's aplenty." + +"How did you know?" + +"Well, Charley told it. He was standing out here by the door last night an' +he heard Ruff speak to you. Charley thinks a heap of you an' I reckon he +hates Ruff. Besides, Charley stretches things. He shore riled Glenn, an' I +want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that's happened since you +got here." + +"Hurry--tell me," begged Carley, feeling the blood come to her face. + +"I rode over to Ryan's place for dad, an' when I got there I knew nothing +about what Ruff said to you," began Flo, and she took hold of Carley's +hand. "Neither did dad. You see, Glenn hadn't got there yet. Well, just as +the men had finished dipping a bunch of sheep Glenn came riding down, +lickety cut." + +"'Now what the hell's wrong with Glenn?' said dad, getting up from where +we sat. + +"Shore I knew Glenn was mad, though I never before saw him that way. He +looked sort of grim an' black. . . . Well, he rode right down on us an' +piled off. Dad yelled at him an' so did I. But Glenn made for the sheep +pen. You know where we watched Haze Ruff an' Lorenzo slinging the sheep +into the dip. Ruff was just about to climb out over the fence when Glenn +leaped up on it." + +"'Say, Ruff,' he said, sort of hard, 'Charley an' Ben tell me they heard +you speak disrespectfully to Miss Burch last night.'" + +"Dad an' I ran to the fence, but before we could catch hold of Glenn he'd +jumped down into the pen." + +"'I'm not carin' much for what them herders say,' replied Ruff. + +"'Do you deny it?' demanded Glenn. + +"'I ain't denyin' nothin', Kilbourne,' growled Ruff. 'I might argue against +me bein' disrespectful. That's a matter of opinion.' + +"'You'll apologize for speaking to Miss Burch or I'll beat you up an' have +Hutter fire you.' + +"'Wal, Kilbourne, I never eat my words,' replied Ruff. + +"Then Glenn knocked him flat. You ought to have heard that crack. Sounded +like Charley hitting a steer with a club. Dad yelled: 'Look out, Glenn. He +packs a gun!'--Ruff got up mad clear through I reckon. Then they mixed it. +Ruff got in some swings, but he couldn't reach Glenn's face. An' Glenn +batted him right an' left, every time in his ugly mug. Ruff got all bloody +an' he cussed something awful. Glenn beat him against the fence an' then we +all saw Ruff reach for a gun or knife. All the men yelled. An' shore I +screamed. But Glenn saw as much as we saw. He got fiercer. He beat Ruff +down to his knees an' swung on him hard. Deliberately knocked Ruff into the +dip ditch. What a splash! It wet all of us. Ruff went out of sight. Then he +rolled up like a huge hog. We were all scared now. That dip's rank poison, +you know. Reckon Ruff knew that. He floundered along an' crawled up at the +end. Anyone could see that he had mouth an' eyes tight shut. He began to +grope an' feel around, trying to find the way to the pond. One of the men +led him out. It was great to see him wade in the water an' wallow an' souse +his head under. When he came out the men got in front of him any stopped +him. He shore looked bad. . . . An' Glenn called to him, 'Ruff, that +sheep-dip won't go through your tough hide, but a bullet will!" + + +Not long after this incident Carley started out on her usual afternoon +ride, having arranged with Glenn to meet her on his return from work. + +Toward the end of June Carley had advanced in her horsemanship to a point +where Flo lent her one of her own mustangs. This change might not have had +all to do with a wonderful difference in riding, but it seemed so to +Carley. There was as much difference in horses as in people. This mustang +she had ridden of late was of Navajo stock, but he had been born and raised +and broken at Oak Creek. Carley had not yet discovered any objection on his +part to do as she wanted him to. He liked what she liked, and most of all +he liked to go. His color resembled a pattern of calico, and in accordance +with Western ways his name was therefore Calico. Left to choose his own +gait, Calico always dropped into a gentle pace which was so easy and +comfortable and swinging that Carley never tired of it. Moreover, he did +not shy at things lying in the road or rabbits darting from bushes or at +the upwhirring of birds. Carley had grown attached to Calico before she +realized she was drifting into it; and for Carley to care for anything or +anybody was a serious matter, because it did not happen often and it +lasted. She was exceedingly tenacious of affection. + +June had almost passed and summer lay upon the lonely land. Such perfect +and wonderful weather had never before been Carley's experience. The dawns +broke cool, fresh, fragrant, sweet, and rosy, with a breeze that seemed of +heaven rather than earth, and the air seemed tremulously full of the murmur +of falling water and the melody of mocking birds. At the solemn noontides +the great white sun glared down hot--so hot that t burned the skin, yet +strangely was a pleasant burn. The waning afternoons were Carley's especial +torment, when it seemed the sounds and winds of the day were tiring, and +all things were seeking repose, and life must soften to an unthinking +happiness. These hours troubled Carley because she wanted them to last, and +because she knew for her this changing and transforming time could not +last. So long as she did not think she was satisfied. + +Maples and sycamores and oaks were in full foliage, and their bright greens +contrasted softly with the dark shine of the pines. Through the spaces +between brown tree trunks and the white-spotted holes of the sycamores +gleamed the amber water of the creek. Always there was murmur of little +rills and the musical dash of little rapids. On the surface of still, shady +pools trout broke to make ever-widening ripples. Indian paintbrush, so +brightly carmine in color, lent touch of fire to the green banks, and under +the oaks, in cool dark nooks where mossy bowlders lined the stream, there +were stately nodding yellow columbines. And high on the rock ledges shot up +the wonderful mescal stalks, beginning to blossom, some with tints of gold +and others with tones of red. + +Riding along down the canyon, under its looming walls, Carley wondered that +if unawares to her these physical aspects of Arizona could have become more +significant than she realized. The thought had confronted her before. Here, +as always, she fought it and denied it by the simple defense of +elimination. Yet refusing to think of a thing when it seemed ever present +was not going to do forever. Insensibly and subtly it might get a hold on +her, never to be broken. Yet it was infinitely easier to dream than to +think. + +But the thought encroached upon her that it was not a dreamful habit of +mind she had fallen into of late. When she dreamed or mused she lived +vaguely and sweetly over past happy hours or dwelt in enchanted fancy upon +a possible future. Carley had been told by a Columbia professor that she +was a type of the present age--a modern young woman of materialistic mind. +Be that as it might, she knew many things seemed loosening from the +narrowness and tightness of her character, sloughing away like scales, +exposing a new and strange and susceptible softness of fiber. And this +blank habit of mind, when she did not think, and now realized that she was +not dreaming, seemed to be the body of Carley Burch, and her heart and soul +stripped of a shell. Nerve and emotion and spirit received something from +her surroundings. She absorbed her environment. She felt. It was a +delightful state. But when her own consciousness caused it to elude her, +then she both resented and regretted. Anything that approached permanent +attachment to this crude and untenanted West Carley would not tolerate for +a moment. Reluctantly she admitted it had bettered her health, quickened +her blood, and quite relegated Florida and the Adirondacks, to little +consideration. + +"Well, as I told Glenn," soliloquized Carley, "every time I'm almost won +over a little to Arizona she gives me a hard jolt. I'm getting near being +mushy today. Now let's see what I'll get. I suppose that's my pessimism or +materialism. Funny how Glenn keeps saying its the jolts, the hard knocks, +the fights that are best to remember afterward. I don't get that at all." + +Five miles below West Fork a road branched off and climbed the left side of +the canyon. It was a rather steep road, long and zigzaging, and full of +rocks and ruts. Carley did not enjoy ascending it, but she preferred the +going up to coming down. It took half an hour to climb. + +Once up on the flat cedar-dotted desert she was met, full in the face, by a +hot dusty wind coming from the south. Carley searched her pockets for her +goggles, only to ascertain that she had forgotten them. Nothing, except a +freezing sleety wind, annoyed and punished Carley so much as a hard puffy +wind, full of sand and dust. Somewhere along the first few miles of this +road she was to meet Glenn. If she turned back for any cause he would be +worried, and, what concerned her more vitally, he would think she had not +the courage to face a little dust. So Carley rode on. + +The wind appeared to be gusty. It would blow hard awhile, then lull for a +few moments. On the whole, however, it increased in volume and persistence +until she was riding against a gale. She had now come to a bare, flat, +gravelly region, scant of cedars and brush, and far ahead she could see a +dull yellow pall rising high into the sky. It was a duststorm and it was +sweeping down on the wings of that gale. Carley remembered that somewhere +along this flat there was a log cabin which had before provided shelter for +her and Flo when they were caught in a rainstorm. It seemed unlikely that +she had passed by this cabin. + +Resolutely she faced the gale and knew she had a task to find that refuge. +If there had been a big rock or bushy cedar to offer shelter she would have +welcomed it. But there was nothing. When the hard dusty gusts hit her, she +found it absolutely necessary to shut her eyes. At intervals less windy she +opened them, and rode on, peering through the yellow gloom for the cabin. +Thus she got her eyes full of dust--an alkali dust that made them sting and +smart. The fiercer puffs of wind carried pebbles large enough to hurt +severely. Then the dust clogged her nose and sand got between her teeth. +Added to these annoyances was a heat like a blast from a furnace. Carley +perspired freely and that caked the dust on her face. She rode on, +gradually growing more uncomfortable and miserable. Yet even then she did +not utterly lose a sort of thrilling zest in being thrown upon her own +responsibility. She could hate an obstacle, yet feel something of pride in +holding her own against it. + +Another mile of buffeting this increasing gale so exhausted Carley and +wrought upon her nerves that she became nearly panic-stricken. It grew +harder and harder not to turn back. At last she was about to give up when +right at hand through the flying dust she espied the cabin. Riding behind +it, she dismounted and tied the mustang to a post. Then she ran around to +the door and entered. + +What a welcome refuge! She was all right now, and when Glenn came along she +would have added to her already considerable list another feat for which he +would commend her. With aid of her handkerchief, and the tears that flowed +so copiously, Carley presently freed her eyes of the blinding dust. But +when she essayed to remove it from her face she discovered she would need a +towel and soap and hot water. + +The cabin appeared to be enveloped in a soft, swishing, hollow sound. It +seeped and rustled. Then the sound lulled, only to rise again. Carley went +to the door, relieved and glad to see that the duststorm was blowing by. +The great sky-high pall of yellow had moved on to the north. Puffs of dust +were whipping along the road, but no longer in one continuous cloud. In the +west, low down the sun was sinking, a dull magenta in hue, quite weird and +remarkable. + +"I knew I'd get the jolt all right," soliloquized Carley, wearily, as she +walked to a rude couch of poles and sat down upon it. She had begun to cool +off. And there, feeling dirty and tired, and slowly wearing to the old +depression, she composed herself to wait. + +Suddenly she heard the clip-clop of hoofs. "There! that's Glenn," she +cried, gladly, and rising, she ran to the door. + +She saw a big bay horse bearing a burly rider. He discovered her at the +same instant, and pulled his horse. + +"Ho! Ho! if it ain't Pretty Eyes!" he called out, in gay, coarse voice. + +Carley recognized the voice, and then the epithet, before her sight +established the man as Haze Ruff. A singular stultifying shock passed over +her. + +"Wal, by all thet's lucky!" he said, dismounting. "I knowed we'd meet some +day. I can't say I just laid fer you, but I kept my eyes open." + +Manifestly he knew she was alone, for he did not glance into the cabin. + +"I'm waiting for--Glenn," she said, with lips she tried to make stiff. + +"Shore I reckoned thet," he replied, genially. "But he won't be along yet +awhile." + +He spoke with a cheerful inflection of tone, as if the fact designated was +one that would please her; and his swarthy, seamy face expanded into a +good-humored, meaning smile. Then without any particular rudeness he pushed +her back from the door, into the cabin, and stepped across the threshold. + +"How dare--you!" cried Carley. A hot anger that stirred in her seemed to be +beaten down and smothered by a cold shaking internal commotion, threatening +collapse. This man loomed over her, huge, somehow monstrous in his brawny +uncouth presence. And his knowing smile, and the hard, glinting twinkle of +his light eyes, devilishly intelligent and keen, in no wise lessened the +sheer brutal force of him physically. Sight of his bulk was enough to +terrorize Carley. + +"Me! Aw, I'm a darin' hombre an' a devil with the wimmin," he said, with a +guffaw. + +Carley could not collect her wits. The instant of his pushing her back into +the cabin and following her had shocked her and almost paralyzed her will. +If she saw him now any the less fearful she could not so quickly rally her +reason to any advantage. + +"Let me out of here," she demanded. + +"Nope. I'm a-goin' to make a little love to you," he said, and he reached +for her with great hairy hands. + +Carley saw in them the strength that had so easily swung the sheep. She +saw, too, that they were dirty, greasy hands. And they made her flesh +creep. + +"Glenn will kill--you," she panted. + +"What fer?" he queried, in real or pretended surprise. "Aw, I know wimmin. +You'll never tell him." + +"Yes, I will." + +"Wal, mebbe. I reckon you're lyin', Pretty Eyes," he replied, with a grin. +"Anyhow, I'll take a chance." + +"I tell you--he'll kill you," repeated Carley, backing away until her weak +knees came against the couch. + +"What fer, I ask you?" he demanded. + +"For this--this insult." + +"Huh! I'd like to know who's insulted you. Can't a man take an invitation +to kiss an' hug a girl--without insultin' her?" + +"Invitation! . . . Are you crazy?" queried Carley, bewildered. + +"Nope, I'm not crazy, an' I shore said invitation . . . . I meant thet +white shimmy dress you wore the night of Flo's party. Thet's my invitation +to get a little fresh with you, Pretty Eyes!" + +Carley could only stare at him. His words seemed to have some peculiar, +unanswerable power. + +"Wal, if it wasn't an invitation, what was it?" he asked, with another step +that brought him within reach of her. He waited for her answer, which was +not forthcoming. + +"Wal, you're gettin' kinda pale around the gills," he went on, derisively. +"I reckoned you was a real sport. . . . Come here." + +He fastened one of his great hands in the front of her coat and gave her a +pull. So powerful was it that Carley came hard against him, almost knocking +her breathless. There he held her a moment and then put his other arm round +her. It seemed to crush both breath and sense out of her. Suddenly limp, +she sank strengthless. She seemed reeling in darkness. Then she felt herself +thrust away from him with violence. She sank on the couch and her head and +shoulders struck the wall. + +"Say, if you're a-goin' to keel over like thet I pass," declared Ruff, in +disgust. "Can't you Eastern wimmin stand nothin?" + +Carley's eyes opened and beheld this man in an attitude of supremely +derisive protest. + +"You look like a sick kitten," he added. "When I get me a sweetheart or +wife I want her to be a wild cat." + +His scorn and repudiation of her gave Carley intense relief. She sat up and +endeavored to collect her shattered nerves. Ruff gazed down at her with +great disapproval and even disappointment. + +"Say, did you have some fool idee I was a-goin' to kill you?" he queried, +gruffly. + +"I'm afraid--I did," faltered Carley. Her relief was a release; it was so +strange that it was gratefulness. + +"Wal, I reckon I wouldn't have hurt you. None of these flop-over Janes for +me! . . . An' I'll give you a hunch, Pretty Eyes. You might have run acrost +a fellar thet was no gentleman!" + +Of all the amazing statements that had ever been made to Carley, this one +seemed the most remarkable. + +"What'd you wear thet onnatural white dress fer?" he demanded, as if he +had a right to be her judge. + +"Unnatural?" echoed Carley. + +"Shore. Thet's what I said. Any woman's dress without top or bottom is +onnatural. It's not right. Why, you looked like--like"--here he floundered +for adequate expression--"like one of the devil's angels. An' I want to +hear why you wore it." + +"For the same reason I'd wear any dress," she felt forced to reply. + +"Pretty Eyes, thet's a lie. An' you know it's a lie. You wore thet white +dress to knock the daylights out of men. Only you ain't honest enough to +say so . . . . Even me or my kind! Even us, who're dirt under your little +feet. But all the same we're men, an' mebbe better men than you think. If +you had to put that dress on, why didn't you stay in your room? Naw, you +had to come down an' strut around an' show off your beauty. An' I ask you-- +if you're a nice girl like Flo Hutter--what'd you wear it fer?" + +Carley not only was mute; she felt rise and burn in her a singular shame +and surprise. + +"I'm only a sheep dipper," went on Ruff, "but I ain't no fool. A fellar +doesn't have to live East an' wear swell clothes to have sense. Mebbe +you'll learn thet the West is bigger'n you think. A man's a man East or +West. But if your Eastern men stand for such dresses as thet white one +they'd do well to come out West awhile, like your lover, Glenn Kilbourne. +I've been rustlin' round here ten years, an' I never before seen a dress +like yours--an' I never heerd of a girl bein' insulted, either. Mebbe you +think I insulted you. Wal, I didn't. Fer I reckon nothin' could insult you +in thet dress. . . . An' my last hunch is this, Pretty Eyes. You're not +what a hombre like me calls either square or game. Adios." + +His bulky figure darkened the doorway, passed out, and the light of the sky +streamed into the cabin again. Carley sat staring. She heard Ruff's spurs +tinkle, then the ring of steel on stirrup, a sodden leathery sound as he +mounted, and after that a rapid pound of hoofs, quickly dying away. + +He was gone. She had escaped something raw and violent. Dazedly she +realized it, with unutterable relief. And she sat there slowly gathering +the nervous force that had been shattered. Every word that he had uttered +was stamped in startling characters upon her consciousness. But she was +still under the deadening influence of shock. This raw experience was the +worst the West had yet dealt her. It brought back former states of +revulsion and formed them in one whole irrefutable and damning judgment +that seemed to blot out the vaguely dawning and growing happy +susceptibilities. It was, perhaps, just as well to have her mind reverted +to realistic fact. The presence of Haze Ruff, the astounding truth of the +contact with his huge sheep-defiled hands, had been profanation and +degradation under which she sickened with fear and shame. Yet hovering back +of her shame and rising anger seemed to be a pale, monstrous, and +indefinable thought, insistent and accusing, with which she must sooner or +later reckon. It might have been the voice of the new side of her nature, +but at that moment of outraged womanhood, and of revolt against the West, +she would not listen. It might, too, have been the still small voice of +conscience. But decision of mind and energy coming to her then, she threw +off the burden of emotion and perplexity, and forced herself into composure +before the arrival of Glenn. + +The dust had ceased to blow, although the wind had by no means died away. +Sunset marked the west in old rose and gold, a vast flare. Carley espied a +horseman far down the road, and presently recognized both rider and steed. +He was coming fast. She went out and, mounting her mustang, she rode out to +meet Glenn. It did not appeal to her to wait for him at the cabin; besides +hoof tracks other than those made by her mustang might have been noticed by +Glenn. Presently he came up to her and pulled his loping horse. + +"Hello! I sure was worried," was his greeting, as his gloved hand went out +to her. "Did you run into that sandstorm?" + +"It ran into me, Glenn, and buried me," she laughed. + +His fine eyes lingered on her face with glad and warm glance, and the keen, +apprehensive penetration of a lover. + +"Well, under all that dust you look scared," he said. + +"Scared! I was worse than that. When I first ran into the flying dirt I was +only afraid I'd lose my way--and my complexion. But when the worst of the +storm hit me--then I feared I'd lose my breath." + +"Did you face that sand and ride through it all?" he queried. + +"No, not all. But enough. I went through the worst of it before I reached +the cabin," she replied. + +"Wasn't it great?" + +"Yes--great bother and annoyance," she said, laconically. + +Whereupon he reached with long, arm and wrapped it round her as they +rocked side by side. Demonstrations of this nature were infrequent with Glenn. +Despite losing one foot out of a stirrup and her seat in the saddle Carley +rather encouraged it. He kissed her dusty face, and then set her back. + +"By George! Carley, sometimes I think you've changed since you've been +here," he said, with warmth. "To go through that sandstorm without one +kick--one knock at my West!" + +"Glenn, I always think of what Flo says--the worst is yet to come," replied +Carley, trying to hide her unreasonable and tumultuous pleasure at words of +praise from him. + +"Carley Burch, you don't know yourself," he declared, enigmatically. + +"What woman knows herself? But do you know me?" + +"Not I. Yet sometimes I see depths in you--wonderful possibilities-- +submerged under your poise--under your fixed, complacent idle attitude +toward life." + +This seemed for Carley to be dangerously skating near thin ice, but she +could not resist a retort: + +"Depths in me? Why I am a shallow, transparent stream like your West Fork! +. . . And as for possibilities--may I ask what of them you imagine you see?" + +"As a girl, before you were claimed by the world, you were earnest at +heart. You had big hopes and dreams. And you had intellect, too. But you +have wasted your talents, Carley. Having money, and spending it, living for +pleasure, you have not realized your powers. . . . Now, don't look hurt. +I'm not censuring you, It's just the way of modern life. And most of your +friends have been more careless, thoughtless, useless than you. The aim of +their existence is to be comfortable, free from work, worry, pain. They +want pleasure, luxury. And what a pity it is! The best of you girls regard +marriage as an escape, instead of responsibility. You don't marry to get +your shoulders square against the old wheel of American progress--to help +some man make good--to bring a troop of healthy American kids into the +world. You bare your shoulders to the gaze of the multitude and like it +best if you are strung with pearls." + +"Glenn, you distress me when you talk like this," replied Carley, soberly. +"You did not use to talk so. It seems to me you are bitter against women." + +"Oh no, Carley! I am only sad," he said. "I only see where once I was +blind. American women are the finest on earth, but as a race, if they don't +change, they're doomed to extinction." + +"How can you say such things?" demanded Carley, with spirit. + +"I say them because they are true. Carley, on the level now, tell me how +many of your immediate friends have children." + +Put to a test, Carley rapidly went over in mind her circle of friends, with +the result that she was somewhat shocked and amazed to realize how few of +them were even married, and how the babies of her acquaintance were limited +to three. It was not easy to admit this to Glenn. + +"My dear," replied he, "if that does not show you the handwriting on the +wall, nothing ever will." + +"A girl has to find a husband, doesn't she?" asked Carley, roused to +defense of her sex. "And if she's anybody she has to find one in her set. +Well, husbands are not plentiful. Marriage certainly is not the end of +existence these days. We have to get along somehow. The high cost of living +is no inconsderable factor today. Do you know that most of the better-class +apartment houses in New York will not take children? Women are not all to +blame. Take the speed mania. Men must have automobiles. I know one girl who +wanted a baby, but her husband wanted a car. They couldn't afford both." + +"Carley, I'm not blaming women more than men," returned Glenn. "I don't +know that I blame them as a class. But in my own mind I have worked it all +out. Every man or woman who is genuinely American should read the signs of +the times, realize the crisis, and meet it in an American way. Otherwise we +are done as a race. Money is God in the older countries. But it should +never become God in America. If it does we will make the fall of Rome pale +into insignificance." + +"Glenn, let's put off the argument," appealed Carley. "I'm not--just up to +fighting you today. Oh--you needn't smile. I'm not showing a yellow streak, +as Flo puts it. I'll fight you some other time." + +"You're right, Carley," he assented. "Here we are loafing six or seven +miles from home. Let's rustle along." + +Riding fast with Glenn was something Carley had only of late added to her +achievements. She had greatest pride in it. So she urged her mustang to +keep pace with Glenn's horse and gave herself up to the thrill of the +motion and feel of wind and sense of flying along. At a good swinging lope +Calico covered ground swiftly and did not tire. Carley rode the two miles +to the rim of the canyon, keeping alongside of Glenn all the way. Indeed, +for one long level stretch she and Glenn held hands. When they arrived at +the descent, which necessitated slow and careful riding, she was hot and +tingling and breathless, worked by the action into an exuberance of +pleasure. Glenn complimented her riding as well as her rosy cheeks. There +was indeed a sweetness in working at a task as she had worked to learn to +ride in Western fashion. Every turn of her mind seemed to confront her with +sobering antitheses of thought. Why had she come to love to ride down a +lonely desert road, through ragged cedars where the wind whipped her face +with fragrant wild breath, if at the same time she hated the West? Could +she hate a country, however barren and rough, if it had saved the health +and happiness of her future husband? Verily there were problems for Carley +to solve. + +Early twilight purple lay low in the hollows and clefts of the canyon. Over +the western rim a pale ghost of the evening star seemed to smile at Carley, +to bid her look and look. Like a strain of distant music, the dreamy hum of +falling water, the murmur and melody of the stream, came again to Carley's +sensitive ear. + +"Do you love this?" asked Glenn, when they reached the green-forested +canyon floor, with the yellow road winding away into the purple shadows. + +"Yes, both the ride--and you," flashed Carley, contrarily. She knew he had +meant the deep-walled canyon with its brooding solitude. + +"But I want you to love Arizona," he said. + +"Glenn, I'm a faithful creature. You should be glad of that. I love New +York." + +"Very well, then. Arizona to New York," he said, lightly brushing her cheek +with his lips. And swerving back into his saddle, he spurred his horse and +called back over his shoulder: "That mustang and Flo have beaten me many a +time. Come on." + +It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley. Had +he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity? Always there was a +little rift in the lute. Had his tone and look meant that Flo might catch +him if Carley could not? Absurd as the idea was, it spurred her to +recklessness. Her mustang did not need any more than to know she wanted him +to run. The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green foliage and +overspread by pines. In a moment she was racing at a speed she had never +before half attained on a horse. Down the winding road Glenn's big steed +sped, his head low, his stride tremendous, his action beautiful. But Carley +saw the distance between them diminishing. Calico was overtaking the bay. +She cried out in the thrilling excitement of the moment. Glenn saw her +gaining and pressed his mount to greater speed. Still he could not draw +away from Calico. Slowly the little mustang gained. It seemed to Carley +that riding him required no effort at all. And at such fast pace, with the +wind roaring in her ears, the walls of green vague and continuous in her +sight, the sting of pine tips on cheek and neck, the yellow road streaming +toward her, under her, there rose out of the depths of her, out of the +tumult of her breast, a sense of glorious exultation. She closed in on +Glenn. From the flying hoofs of his horse shot up showers of damp sand and +gravel that covered Carley's riding habit and spattered in her face. She +had to hold up a hand before her eyes. Perhaps this caused her to lose +something of her confidence, or her swing in the saddle, for suddenly she +realized she was not riding well. The pace was too fast for her +inexperience. But nothing could have stopped her then. No fear or +awkwardness of hers should be allowed to hamper that thoroughbred mustang. +Carley felt that Calico understood the situation; or at least he knew he +could catch and pass this big bay horse, and he intended to do it. Carley +was hard put to it to hang on and keep the flying sand from blinding her. + +When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to +breast with Glenn, and then inch by inch forged ahead of him, Carley pealed +out an exultant cry. Either it frightened Calico or inspired him, for he +shot right ahead of Glenn's horse. Then he lost the smooth, wonderful +action. He seemed hurtling through space at the expense of tremendous +muscular action. Carley could feel it. She lost her equilibrium. She seemed +rushing through a blurred green and black aisle of the forest with a gale +in her face. Then, with a sharp jolt, a break, Calico plunged to the sand. +Carley felt herself propelled forward out of the saddle into the air, and +down to strike with a sliding, stunning force that ended in sudden dark +oblivion. + +Upon recovering consciousness she first felt a sensation of oppression in +her chest and a dull numbness of her whole body. When she opened her eyes +she saw Glenn bending over her, holding her head on his knee. A wet, cold, +reviving sensation evidently came from the handkerchief with which he was +mopping her face. + +"Carley, you can't be hurt--really!" he was ejaculating, in eager hope. "It +was some spill. But you lit on the sand and slid. You can't be hurt." + +The look of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the feel of his hands were +such that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly hurt +indeed. It was worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn Kilbourne. +But she believed she had suffered no more than a severe bruising and +scraping. + +"Glenn--dear," she whispered, very low and very eloquently. "I think--my +back--is broken. . . . You'll be free--soon." + +Glenn gave a terrible start and his face turned a deathly white. He burst +out with quavering, inarticulate speech. + +Carley gazed up at him and then closed her eyes. She could not look at him +while carrying on such deceit. Yet the sight of him and the feel of him +then were inexpressibly blissful to her. What she needed most was assurance +of his love. She had it. Beyond doubt, beyond morbid fancy, the truth had +proclaimed itself, filling her heart with joy. + +Suddenly she flung her arms up around his neck. "Oh--Glenn! It was too good +a chance to miss! . . . I'm not hurt a bit." + + +CHAPTER VII + +The day came when Carley asked Mrs. Hutter: "Will you please put up a nice +lunch for Glenn and me? I'm going to walk down to his farm where he's +working, and surprise him." + +"That's a downright fine idea," declared Mrs. Hutter, and forthwith bustled +away to comply with Carley's request. + +So presently Carley found herself carrying a bountiful basket on her arm, +faring forth on an adventure that both thrilled and depressed her. Long +before this hour something about Glenn's work had quickened her pulse and +given rise to an inexplicable admiration. That he was big and strong enough +to do such labor made her proud; that he might want to go on doing it made +her ponder and brood. + +The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June, when the air +appeared flooded by rich thick amber light. Only the sun here was hotter +and the shade cooler. + +Carley took to the trail below where West Fork emptied its golden-green +waters into Oak Creek. The red walls seemed to dream and wait under the +blaze of the sun; the heat lay like a blanket over the still foliage; the +birds were quiet; only the murmuring stream broke the silence of the +canyon. Never had Carley felt more the isolation and solitude of Oak Creek +Canyon. Far indeed from the madding crowd! Only Carley's stubbornness kept +her from acknowledging the sense of peace that enveloped her--that and the +consciousness of her own discontent. What would it be like to come to this +canyon--to give up to its enchantments? That, like many another disturbing +thought, had to go unanswered, to be driven into the closed chambers of +Carley's mind, there to germinate subconsciously, and stalk forth some day +to overwhelm her. + +The trail led along the creek, threading a maze of bowlders, passing into +the shade of cottonwoods, and crossing sun-flecked patches of sand. +Carley's every step seemed to become slower. Regrets were assailing her. +Long indeed had she overstayed her visit to the West. She must not linger +there indefinitely. And mingled with misgiving was a surprise that she had +not tired of Oak Creek. In spite of all, and of the dislike she vaunted to +herself, the truth stared at her--she was not tired. + +The long-delayed visit to see Glenn working on his own farm must result in +her talking to him about his work; and in a way not quite clear she +regretted the necessity for it. To disapprove of Glenn! She received faint +intimations of wavering, of uncertainty, of vague doubt. But these were +cried down by the dominant and habitable voice of her personality. + +Presently through the shaded and shadowed breadth of the belt of forest she +saw gleams of a sunlit clearing. And crossing this space to the border of +trees she peered forth, hoping to espy Glenn at his labors. She saw an old +shack, and irregular lines of rude fence built of poles of all sizes and +shapes, and several plots of bare yellow ground, leading up toward the west +side of the canyon wall. Could this clearing be Glenn's farm? Surely she +had missed it or had not gone far enough. This was not a farm, but a slash +in the forested level of the canyon floor, bare and somehow hideous. Dead +trees were standing in the lots. They had been ringed deeply at the base by +an ax, to kill them, and so prevent their foliage from shading the soil. +Carley saw a long pile of rocks that evidently had been carried from the +plowed ground. There was no neatness, no regularity, although there was +abundant evidence of toil. To clear that rugged space, to fence it, and +plow it, appeared at once to Carley an extremely strenuous and useless +task. Carley persuaded herself that this must be the plot of ground belonging +to the herder Charley, and she was about to turn on down the creek when +far up under the bluff she espied a man. He was stalking along and bending +down, stalking along and bending down. She recognized Glenn. He was planting +something in the yellow soil. + +Curiously Carley watched him, and did not allow her mind to become +concerned with a somewhat painful swell of her heart. What a stride he had! +How vigorous he looked, and earnest! He was as intent upon this job as if +he had been a rustic. He might have been failing to do it well, but he most +certainly was doing it conscientiously. Once he had said to her that a man +should never be judged by the result of his labors, but by the nature of +his effort. A man might strive with all his heart and strength, yet fail. +Carley watched him striding along and bending down, absorbed in his task, +unmindful of the glaring hot sun, and somehow to her singularly detached +from the life wherein he had once moved and to which she yearned to take +him back. Suddenly an unaccountable flashing query assailed her conscience: +How dare she want to take him back? She seemed as shocked as if some +stranger had accosted her. What was this dimming of her eye, this inward +tremulousness; this dammed tide beating at an unknown and riveted gate of +her intelligence? She felt more then than she dared to face. She struggled +against something in herself. The old habit of mind instinctively resisted +the new, the strange. But she did not come off wholly victorious. The +Carley Burch whom she recognized as of old, passionately hated this life +and work of Glenn Kilbourne's, but the rebel self, an unaccountable and +defiant Carley, loved him all the better for them. + +Carley drew a long deep breath before she called Glenn. This meeting would +be momentous and she felt no absolute surety of herself. + +Manifestly he was surprised to hear her call, and, dropping his sack and +implement, he hurried across the tilled ground, sending up puffs of dust. +He vaulted the rude fence of poles, and upon sight of her called out +lustily. How big and virile he looked! Yet he was gaunt and strained. It +struck Carley that he had not looked so upon her arrival at Oak Creek. Had +she worried him? The query gave her a pang. + +"Sir Tiller of the Fields," said Carley, gayly, "see, your dinner! I +brought it and I am going to share it." + +"You old darling!" he replied, and gave her an embrace that left her cheek +moist with the sweat of his. He smelled of dust and earth and his body was +hot. "I wish to God it could be true for always!" + +His loving, bearish onslaught and his words quite silenced Carley. How at +critical moments he always said the thing that hurt her or inhibited her! +She essayed a smile as she drew back from him. + +"It's sure good of you," he said, taking the basket. "I was thinking I'd be +through work sooner today, and was sorry I had not made a date with you. +Come, we'll find a place to sit." + +Whereupon he led her back under the trees to a half-sunny, half-shady bench +of rock overhanging the stream. Great pines overshadowed a still, eddying +pool. A number of brown butterflies hovered over the water, and small trout +floated like spotted feathers just under the surface. Drowsy summer +enfolded the sylvan scene. + +Glenn knelt at the edge of the brook, and, plunging his hands in, he +splashed like a huge dog and bathed his hot face and head, and then turned +to Carley with gay words and laughter, while he wiped himself dry with a +large red scarf. Carley was not proof against the virility of him then, and +at the moment, no matter what it was that had made him the man he looked, +she loved it. + +"I'll sit in the sun," he said, designating a place. "When you're hot you +mustn't rest in the shade, unless you've coat or sweater. But you sit here +in the shade." + +"Glenn, that'll put us too far apart," complained Carley. "I'll sit in the +sun with you." + +The delightful simplicity and happiness of the ensuing hour was something +Carley believed she would never forget. + +"There! we've licked the platter clean," she said. "What starved bears we +were! . . . . I wonder if I shall enjoy eating--when I get home. I used to +be so finnicky and picky." + +"Carley, don't talk about home," said Glenn, appealingly. + +"You dear old farmer, I'd love to stay here and just dream--forever," +replied Carley, earnestly. "But I came on purpose to talk seriously." + +"Oh, you did! About what?" he returned, with some quick, indefinable change +of tone and expression. + +"Well, first about your work. I know I hurt your feelings when I wouldn't +listen. But I wasn't ready. I wanted to--to just be gay with you for a +while. Don't think I wasn't interested. I was. And now, I'm ready to hear +all about it--and everything." + +She smiled at him bravely, and she knew that unless some unforeseen shock +upset her composure, she would be able to conceal from him anything which +might hurt his feelings. + +"You do look serious," he said, with keen eyes on her. + +"Just what are your business relations with Hutter?" she inquired. + +"I'm simply working for him," replied Glenn. "My aim is to get an interest +in his sheep, and I expect to, some day. We have some plans. And one of +them is the development of that Deep Lake section. You remember--you were +with us. The day Spillbeans spilled you?" + +"Yes, I remember. It was a pretty place," she replied. + +Carley did not tell him that for a month past she had owned the Deep Lake +section of six hundred and forty acres. She had, in fact, instructed Hutter +to purchase it, and to keep the transaction a secret for the present. +Carley had never been able to understand the impulse that prompted her to +do it. But as Hutter had assured her it was a remarkably good investment on +very little capital, she had tried to persuade herself of its advantages. +Back of it all had been an irresistible desire to be able some day to +present to Glenn this ranch site he loved. She had concluded he would +never wholly dissociate himself from this West; and as he would visit it +now and then, she had already begun forming plans of her own. She could +stand a month in Arizona at long intervals. + +"Hutter and I will go into cattle raising some day," went on Glenn. "And +that Deep Lake place is what I want for myself." + +"What work are you doing for Hutter?" asked Carley. + +"Anything from building fence to cutting timber," laughed Glenn. "I've not +yet the experience to be a foreman like Lee Stanton. Besides, I have a +little business all my own. I put all my money in that." + +"You mean here--this--this farm?" + +"Yes. And the stock I'm raisin'. You see I have to feed corn. And believe +me, Carley, those cornfields represent some job." + +"I can well believe that," replied Carley. "You--you looked it." + +"Oh, the hard work is over. All I have to do now it to plant and keep the +weeds out." + +"Glenn, do sheep eat corn?" + +"I plant corn to feed my hogs." + +"Hogs?" she echoed, vaguely. + +"Yes, hogs," he said, with quiet gravity. "The first day you visited my +cabin I told you I raised hogs, and I fried my own ham for your dinner." + +"Is that what you--put your money in?" + +"Yes. And Hutter says I've done well." + +"Hogs!" ejaculated Carley, aghast. + +"My dear, are you growin' dull of comprehension?" retorted Glenn. +"H-o-g-s." He spelled the word out. "I'm in the hog-raising business, and +pretty blamed well pleased over my success so far." + +Carley caught herself in time to quell outwardly a shock of amaze and +revulsion. She laughed, and exclaimed against her stupidity. The look of +Glenn was no less astounding than the content of his words. He was actually +proud of his work. Moreover, he showed not the least sign that he had any +idea such information might be startlingly obnoxious to his fiancee. + +"Glenn! It's so--so queer," she ejaculated. "That you--Glenn Kilbourne- +should ever go in for--for hogs! . . . It's unbelievable. How'd you +ever--ever happen to do it?" + +"By Heaven! you're hard on me!" he burst out, in sudden dark, fierce +passion. "How'd I ever happen to do it? . . . What was there left for me? I +gave my soul and heart and body to the government--to fight for my country. +I came home a wreck. What did my government do for me? What did my +employers do for me? What did the people I fought for do for me? . . . +Nothing--so help me God--nothing! . . . I got a ribbon and a bouquet--a +little applause for an hour--and then the sight of me sickened my +countrymen. I was broken and used. I was absolutely forgotten. . . . But my +body, my life, my soul meant all to me. My future was ruined, but I wanted +to live. I had killed men who never harmed me--I was not fit to die. . . . +I tried to live. So I fought out my battle alone. Alone! . . . No one +understood. No one cared. I came West to keep from dying of consumption in +sight of the indifferent mob for whom I had sacrificed myself. I chose to +die on my feet away off alone somewhere. . . . But I got well. And what +made me well--and saved my soul--was the first work that offered. Raising +and tending hogs!" + +The dead whiteness of Glenn's face, the lightning scorn of his eyes, the +grim, stark strangeness of him then had for Carley a terrible harmony with +this passionate denunciation of her, of her kind, of the America for whom +he had lost all. + +"Oh, Glenn!--forgive--me!" she faltered. "I was only--talking. What do I +know? Oh, I am blind--blind and little!" + +She could not bear to face him for a moment, and she hung her head. Her +intelligence seemed concentrating swift, wild thoughts round the shock to +her consciousness. By that terrible expression of his face, by those +thundering words of scorn, would she come to realize the mighty truth of +his descent into the abyss and his rise to the heights. Vaguely she began +to see. An awful sense of her deadness, of her soul-blighting selfishness, +began to dawn upon her as something monstrous out of dim, gray obscurity. +She trembled under the reality of thoughts that were not new. How she had +babbled about Glenn and the crippled soldiers! How she had imagined she +sympathized! But she had only been a vain, worldly, complacent, effusive +little fool. She had here the shock of her life, and she sensed a greater +one, impossible to grasp. + +"Carley, that was coming to you," said Glenn, presently, with deep, heavy +expulsion of breath. + +"I only know I love you--more--more," she cried, wildly, looking up and +wanting desperately to throw herself in his arms. + +"I guess you do--a little," he replied. "Sometimes I feel you are a kid. +Then again you represent the world--your world with its age-old custom--its +unalterable. . . . But, Carley, let's get back to my work." + +"Yes--yes," exclaimed Carley, gladly. "I'm ready to--to go pet your hogs +--anything." + +"By George! I'll take you up," he declared. "I'll bet you won't go near one +of my hogpens." + +"Lead me to it!" she replied, with a hilarity that was only a nervous +reversion of her state. + +"Well, maybe I'd better hedge on the bet," he said, laughing again. "You +have more in you than I suspect. You sure fooled me when you stood for the +sheep-dip. But, come on, I'll take you anyway." + +So that was how Carley found herself walking arm in arm with Glenn down the +canyon trail. A few moments of action gave her at least an appearance of +outward composure. And the state of her emotion was so strained and intense +that her slightest show of interest must deceive Glenn into thinking her +eager, responsive, enthusiastic. It certainly appeared to loosen his +tongue. But Carley knew she was farther from normal than ever before in her +life, and that the subtle, inscrutable woman's intuition of her presaged +another shock. Just as she had seemed to change, so had the aspects of the +canyon undergone some illusive transformation. The beauty of green foliage +and amber stream and brown tree trunks and gray rocks and red walls was +there; and the summer drowsiness and languor lay as deep; and the +loneliness and solitude brooded with its same eternal significance. But +some nameless enchantment, perhaps of hope, seemed no longer to encompass +her. A blow had fallen upon her, the nature of which only time could +divulge. + +Glenn led her around the clearing and up to the base of the west wall, +where against a shelving portion of the cliff had been constructed a rude +fence of poles. It formed three sides of a pen, and the fourth side was +solid rock. A bushy cedar tree stood in the center. Water flowed from under +the cliff, which accounted for the boggy condition of the red earth. This +pen was occupied by a huge sow and a litter of pigs. + +Carley climbed on the fence and sat there while Glenn leaned over the top +pole and began to wax eloquent on a subject evidently dear to his heart. +Today of all days Carley made an inspiring listener. Even the shiny, muddy, +suspicious old sow in no wise daunted her fictitious courage. That filthy +pen of mud a foot deep, and of odor rancid, had no terrors for her. With an +arm round Glenn's shoulder she watched the rooting and squealing little +pigs, and was amused and interested, as if they were far removed from the +vital issue of the hour. But all the time as she looked and laughed, and +encouraged Glenn to talk, there seemed to be a strange, solemn, oppressive +knocking at her heart. Was it only the beat-beat-beat of blood? + +"There were twelve pigs in that litter," Glenn was saying, "and now you see +there are only nine. I've lost three. Mountain lions, bears, coyotes, wild +cats are all likely to steal a pig. And at first I was sure one of these +varmints had been robbing me. But as I could not find any tracks, I knew I +had to lay the blame on something else. So I kept watch pretty closely in +daytime, and at night I shut the pigs up in the corner there, where you see +I've built a pen. Yesterday I heard squealing--and, by George! I saw an +eagle flying off with one of my pigs. Say, I was mad. A great old +bald-headed eagle--the regal bird you see with America's stars and stripes +had degraded himself to the level of a coyote. I ran for my rifle, and I +took some quick shots at him as he flew up. Tried to hit him, too, but I +failed. And the old rascal hung on to my pig. I watched him carry it to +that sharp crag way up there on the rim." + +"Poor little piggy!" exclaimed Carley. "To think of our American emblem--our +stately bird of noble warlike mien--our symbol of lonely grandeur and +freedom of the heights--think of him being a robber of pigpens!--Glenn, I +begin to appreciate the many-sidedness of things. Even my hide-bound +narrowness is susceptible to change. It's never too late to learn. This +should apply to the Society for the Preservation of the American Eagle." + +Glenn led her along the base of the wall to three other pens, in each of +which was a fat old sow with a litter. And at the last enclosure, that +owing to dry soil was not so dirty, Glenn picked up a little pig and held +it squealing out to Carley as she leaned over the fence. It was fairly +white and clean, a little pink and fuzzy, and certainly cute with its +curled tall. + +"Carley Burch, take it in your hands," commanded Glenn. + +The feat seemed monstrous and impossible of accomplishment for Carley. Yet +such was her temper at the moment that she would have undertaken anything. + +"Why, shore I will, as Flo says," replied Carley, extending her ungloved +hands. "Come here, piggy. I christen you Pinky." And hiding an almost +insupportable squeamishness from Glenn, she took the pig in her hands and +fondled it. + +"By George!" exclaimed Glenn, in huge delight. "I wouldn't have believed +it. Carley, I hope you tell your fastidious and immaculate Morrison that +you held one of my pigs in your beautiful hands." + +"Wouldn't it please you more to tell him yourself?" asked Carley. + +"Yes, it would," declared Glenn, grimly. + +This incident inspired Glenn to a Homeric narration of his hog-raising +experience. In spite of herself the content of his talk interested her. And +as for the effect upon her of his singular enthusiasm, it was deep and +compelling. The little-boned Berkshire razorback hogs grew so large and fat +and heavy that their bones broke under their weight. The Duroc jerseys were +the best breed in that latitude, owing to their larger and stronger bones, +that enabled them to stand up under the greatest accumulation of fat. + +Glenn told of his droves of pigs running wild in the canyon below. In +summertime they fed upon vegetation, and at other seasons on acorns, roots, +bugs, and grubs. Acorns, particularly, were good and fattening feed. They +ate cedar and juniper berries, and pinyon nuts. And therefore they lived +off the land, at little or no expense to the owner. The only loss was from +beasts and birds of prey. Glenn showed Carley how a profitable business +could soon be established. He meant to fence off side canyons and to +segregate droves of his hogs, and to raise abundance of corn for winter +feed. At that time there was a splendid market for hogs, a condition Hutter +claimed would continue indefinitely in a growing country. In conclusion +Glenn eloquently told how in his necessity he had accepted gratefully the +humblest of labors, to find in the hard pursuit of it a rejuvenation of +body and mind, and a promise of independence and prosperity. + +When he had finished, and excused himself to go repair a weak place in the +corral fence, Carley sat silent, wrapped in strange meditation. + +Whither had faded the vulgarity and ignominy she had attached to Glenn's +raising of hogs? Gone--like other miasmas of her narrow mind! Partly she +understood him now. She shirked consideration of his sacrifice to his +country. That must wait. But she thought of his work, and the more she +thought the less she wondered. + +First he had labored with his hands. What infinite meaning lay unfolding to +her vision! Somewhere out of it all came the conception that man was +intended to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. But there was more to +it than that. By that toil and sweat, by the friction of horny palms, by +the expansion and contraction of muscle, by the acceleration of blood, +something great and enduring, something physical and spiritual, came to a +man. She understood then why she would have wanted to surrender herself to +a man made manly by toil; she understood how a woman instinctively leaned +toward the protection of a man who had used his hands--who had strength and +red blood and virility who could fight like the progenitors of the race. +Any toil was splendid that served this end for any man. It all went back to +the survival of the fittest. And suddenly Carley thought of Morrison. He +could dance and dangle attendance upon her, and amuse her--but how would he +have acquitted himself in a moment of peril? She had her doubts. Most +assuredly he could not have beaten down for her a ruffian like Haze Ruff. +What then should be the significance of a man for a woman? + +Carley's querying and answering mind reverted to Glenn. He had found a +secret in this seeking for something through the labor of hands. All +development of body must come through exercise of muscles. The virility of +cell in tissue and bone depended upon that. Thus he had found in toil the +pleasure and reward athletes had in their desultory training. But when a +man learned this secret the need of work must become permanent. Did this +explain the law of the Persians that every man was required to sweat every +day? + +Carley tried to picture to herself Glenn's attitude of mind when he had +first gone to work here in the West. Resolutely she now denied her +shrinking, cowardly sensitiveness. She would go to the root of this matter, +if she had intelligence enough. Crippled, ruined in health, wrecked and +broken by an inexplicable war, soul-blighted by the heartless, callous +neglect of government and public, on the verge of madness at the +insupportable facts, he had yet been wonderful enough, true enough to himself +and God, to fight for life with the instinct of a man, to fight for his +mind with a noble and unquenchable faith. Alone indeed he had been alone! +And by some miracle beyond the power of understanding he had found day by +day in his painful efforts some hope and strength to go on. He could not +have had any illusions. For Glenn Kilbourne the health and happiness and +success most men held so dear must have seemed impossible. His slow, daily, +tragic, and terrible task must have been something he owed himself. Not for +Carley Burch! She like all the others had failed him. How Carley shuddered +in confession of that! Not for the country which had used him and cast him +off! Carley divined now, as if by a flash of lightning, the meaning of +Glenn's strange, cold, scornful, and aloof manner when he had encountered +young men of his station, as capable and as strong as he, who had escaped +the service of the army. For him these men did not exist. They were less +than nothing. They had waxed fat on lucrative jobs; they had basked in the +presence of girls whose brothers and lovers were in the trenches or on the +turbulent sea, exposed to the ceaseless dread and almost ceaseless toil of +war. If Glenn's spirit had lifted him to endurance of war for the sake of +others, how then could it fail him in a precious duty of fidelity to +himself? Carley could see him day by day toiling in his lonely canyon-- +plodding to his lonely cabin. He had been playing the game--fighting it out +alone as surely he knew his brothers of like misfortune were fighting. + +So Glenn Kilbourne loomed heroically in Carley's transfigured sight. He was +one of Carley's battle-scarred warriors. Out of his travail he had climbed +on stepping-stones of his dead self. Resurgam! That had been his +unquenchable cry. Who had heard it? Only the solitude of his lonely canyon, +only the waiting, dreaming, watching walls, only the silent midnight +shadows, only the white, blinking, passionless stars, only the wild +creatures of his haunts, only the moaning wind in the pines--only these had +been with him in his agony. How near were these things to God? + +Carley's heart seemed full to bursting. Not another single moment could her +mounting love abide in a heart that held a double purpose. How bitter the +assurance that she had not come West to help him! It was self, self, all +self that had actuated her. Unworthy indeed was she of the love of this +man. Only a lifetime of devotion to him could acquit her in the eyes of her +better self. Sweetly and madly raced the thrill and tumult of her blood. +There must be only one outcome to her romance. Yet the next instant there +came a dull throbbing--an oppression which was pain--an impondering vague +thought of catastrophe. Only the fearfulness of love perhaps! + +She saw him complete his task and wipe his brown moist face and stride +toward her, coming nearer, tall and erect with something added to his +soldierly bearing, with a light in his eyes she could no longer bear. + +The moment for which she had waited more than two months had come at last. + +"Glenn--when will you go back East?" she asked, tensely and low. + +The instant the words were spent upon her lips she realized that he had +always been waiting and prepared for this question that had been so +terrible for her to ask. + +"Carley," he replied gently, though his voice rang, "I am never going back +East." + +An inward quivering hindered her articulation. + +"Never?" she whispered. + +"Never to live, or stay any while," he went on. "I might go some time for a +little visit. . . . But never to live." + +"Oh--Glenn!" she gasped, and her hands fluttered out to him. The shock was +driving home. No amaze, no incredulity succeeded her reception of the fact. +It was a slow stab. Carley felt the cold blanch of her skin. "Then--this is +it--the something I felt strange between us?" + +"Yes, I knew--and you never asked me," he replied. + +"That was it? All the time you knew," she whispered, huskily. "You knew. +. . . I'd never--marry you--never live out here?" + +"Yes, Carley, I knew you'd never be woman enough--American enough--to help +me reconstruct my broken life out here in the West," he replied, with a sad +and bitter smile. + +That flayed her. An insupportable shame and wounded vanity and clamoring +love contended for dominance of her emotions. Love beat down all else. + +"Dearest--I beg of you--don't break my heart," she implored. + +"I love you, Carley," he answered, steadily, with piercing eyes on hers. + +"Then come back--home--home with me." + +"No. If you love me you will be my wife." + +"Love you! Glenn, I worship you," she broke out, passionately. "But I could +not live here--I could not." + +"Carley, did you ever read of the woman who said, 'Whither thou goest, +there will I go' . . ." + +"Oh, don't be ruthless! Don't judge me. . . . I never dreamed of this. I +came West to take you back." + +"My dear, it was a mistake," he said, gently, softening to her distress. +"I'm sorry I did not write you more plainly. But, Carley, I could not ask +you to share this--this wilderness home with me. I don't ask it now. I +always knew you couldn't do it. Yet you've changed so--that I hoped against +hope. Love makes us blind even to what we see." + +"Don't try to spare me. I'm slight and miserable. I stand abased in my own +eyes. I thought I loved you. But I must love best the crowd--people +--luxury--fashion--the damned round of things I was born to." + +"Carley, you will realize their insufficiency too late," he replied, +earnestly. "The things you were born to are love, work, children, +happiness." + +"Don't! don't! . . . they are hollow mockery for me," she cried, +passionately. "Glenn, it is the end. It must come--quickly. . . . You are +free." + +"I do not ask to be free. Wait. Go home and look at it again with different +eyes. Think things over. Remember what came to me out of the West. I will +always love you--and I will be here--hoping--" + +"I--I cannot listen," she returned, brokenly, and she clenched her hands +tightly to keep from wringing them. "I--I cannot face you. . . . Here +is--your ring. . . . You--are--free. . . . Don't stop me--don't come. . . . +Oh, Glenn, good-by!" + +With breaking heart she whirled away from him and hurried down the slope +toward the trail. The shade of the forest enveloped her. Peering back +through the trees, she saw Glenn standing where she had left him, as if +already stricken by the loneliness that must be his lot. A sob broke from +Carley's throat. She hated herself. She was in a terrible state of +conflict. Decision had been wrenched from her, but she sensed unending +strife. She dared not look back again. Stumbling and breathless, she +hurried on. How changed the atmosphere and sunlight and shadow of the +canyon! The looming walls had pitiless eyes for her flight. When she +crossed the mouth of West Fork an almost irresistible force breathed to her +from under the stately pines. + +An hour later she had bidden farewell to the weeping Mrs. Hutter, and to +the white-faced Flo, and Lolomi Lodge, and the murmuring waterfall, and the +haunting loneliness of Oak Creek Canyon. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +At Flagstaff, where Carley arrived a few minutes before train time, she was +too busily engaged with tickets and baggage to think of herself or of the +significance of leaving Arizona. But as she walked into the Pullman she +overheard a passenger remark, "Regular old Arizona sunset," and that shook +her heart. Suddenly she realized she had come to love the colorful sunsets, +to watch and wait for them. And bitterly she thought how that was her way +to learn the value of something when it was gone. + +The jerk and start of the train affected her with singular depressing +shock. She had burned her last bridge behind her. Had she unconsciously +hoped for some incredible reversion of Glenn's mind or of her own? A sense +of irreparable loss flooded over her--the first check to shame and humiliation. + +From her window she looked out to the southwest. Somewhere across the cedar +and pine-greened uplands lay Oak Creek Canyon, going to sleep in its purple +and gold shadows of sunset. Banks of broken clouds hung to the horizon, +like continents and islands and reefs set in a turquoise sea. Shafts of +sunlight streaked down through creamy-edged and purple-centered clouds. +Vast flare of gold dominated the sunset background. + +When the train rounded a curve Carley's strained vision became filled with +the upheaved bulk of the San Francisco Mountains. Ragged gray grass slopes +and green forests on end, and black fringed sky lines, all pointed to the +sharp clear peaks spearing the sky. And as she watched, the peaks slowly +flushed with sunset hues, and the sky flared golden, and the strength of +the eternal mountains stood out in sculptured sublimity. Every day for two +months and more Carley had watched these peaks, at all hours, in every +mood; and they had unconsciously become a part of her thought. The train +was relentlessly whirling her eastward. Soon they must become a memory. +Tears blurred her sight. Poignant regret seemed added to the anguish she +was suffering. Why had she not learned sooner to see the glory of the +mountains, to appreciate the beauty and solitude? Why had she not +understood herself? + +The next day through New Mexico she followed magnificent ranges and +valleys--so different from the country she had seen coming West--so +supremely beautiful that she wondered if she had only acquired the harvest +of a seeing eye. + +But it was at sunset of the following clay, when the train was speeding +down the continental slope of prairie land beyond the Rockies, that the +West took its ruthless revenge. + +Masses of strange cloud and singular light upon the green prairie, and a +luminosity in the sky, drew Carley to the platform of her car, which was +the last of the train. There she stood, gripping the iron gate, feeling the +wind whip her hair and the iron-tracked ground speed from under her, +spellbound and stricken at the sheer wonder and glory of the firmament, and +the mountain range that it canopied so exquisitely. + +A rich and mellow light, singularly clear, seemed to flood out of some +unknown source. For the sun was hidden. The clouds just above Carley hung +low, and they were like thick, heavy smoke, mushrooming, coalescing, +forming and massing, of strange yellow cast of mative. It shaded westward +into heliotrope and this into a purple so royal, so matchless and rare that +Carley understood why the purple of the heavens could never be reproduced +in paint. Here the cloud mass thinned and paled, and a tint of rose began +to flush the billowy, flowery, creamy white. Then came the surpassing +splendor of this cloud pageant--a vast canopy of shell pink, a sun-fired +surface like an opal sea, rippled and webbed, with the exquisite texture of +an Oriental fabric, pure, delicate, lovely--as no work of human hands could +be. It mirrored all the warm, pearly tints of the inside whorl of the +tropic nautilus. And it ended abruptly, a rounded depth of bank, on a broad +stream of clear sky, intensely blue, transparently blue, as if through the +lambent depths shone the infinite firmament. The lower edge of this stream +took the golden lightning of the sunset and was notched for all its +horizon-long length by the wondrous white glistening-peaked range of the +Rockies. Far to the north, standing aloof from the range, loomed up the +grand black bulk and noble white dome of Pikes Peak. + +Carley watched the sunset transfiguration of cloud and sky and mountain +until all were cold and gray. And then she returned to her seat, thoughtful +and sad, feeling that the West had mockingly flung at her one of its +transient moments of loveliness. + +Nor had the West wholly finished with her. Next day the mellow gold of the +Kansas wheat fields, endless and boundless as a sunny sea, rich, waving in +the wind, stretched away before her aching eyes for hours and hours. Here +was the promise fulfilled, the bountiful harvest of the land, the strength +of the West. The great middle state had a heart of gold. + +East of Chicago Carley began to feel that the long days and nights of +riding, the ceaseless turning of the wheels, the constant and wearing +stress of emotion, had removed her an immeasurable distance of miles and +time and feeling from the scene of her catastrophe. Many days seemed to +have passed. Many had been the hours of her bitter regret and anguish. + +Indiana and Ohio, with their green pastoral farms, and numberless villages, +and thriving cities, denoted a country far removed and different from the +West, and an approach to the populous East. Carley felt like a wanderer +coming home. She was restlessly and impatiently glad. But her weariness of +body and mind, and the close atmosphere of the car, rendered her extreme +discomfort. Summer had laid its hot hand on the low country east of the +Mississippi. + +Carley had wired her aunt and two of her intimate friends to meet her at +the Grand Central Station. This reunion soon to come affected Carley in +recurrent emotions of relief, gladness, and shame. She did not sleep well, +and arose early, and when the train reached Albany she felt that she could +hardly endure the tedious hours. The majestic Hudson and the palatial +mansions on the wooded bluffs proclaimed to Carley that she was back in the +East. How long a time seemed to have passed! Either she was not the same or +the aspect of everything had changed. But she believed that as soon as she +got over the ordeal of meeting her friends, and was home again, she would +soon see things rationally. + +At last the train sheered away from the broad Hudson and entered the +environs of New York. Carley sat perfectly still, to all outward appearances +a calm, superbly-poised New York woman returning home, but inwardly +raging with contending tides. In her own sight she was a disgraceful +failure, a prodigal sneaking back to the ease and protection of loyal +friends who did not know her truly. Every familiar landmark in the approach +to the city gave her a thrill, yet a vague unsatisfied something lingered +after each sensation. + +Then the train with rush and roar crossed the Harlem River to enter New +York City. As one waking from a dream Carley saw the blocks and squares of +gray apartment houses and red buildings, the miles of roofs and chimneys, +the long hot glaring streets full of playing children and cars. Then above +the roar of the train sounded the high notes of a hurdy-gurdy. Indeed she +was home. Next to startle her was the dark tunnel, and then the slowing of +the train to a stop. As she walked behind a porter up the long incline +toward the station gate her legs seemed to be dead. + +In the circle of expectant faces beyond the gate she saw her aunt's, eager +and agitated, then the handsome pale face of Eleanor Harmon, and beside her +the sweet thin one of Beatrice Lovell. As they saw her how quick the change +from expectancy to joy! It seemed they all rushed upon her, and embraced +her, and exclaimed over her together. Carley never recalled what she said. +But her heart was full. + +"Oh, how perfectly stunning you look!" cried Eleanor, backing away from +Carley and gazing with glad, surprised eyes. + +"Carley!" gasped Beatrice. "You wonderful golden-skinned goddess! . . . +You're young again, like you were in our school days." + +It was before Aunt Mary's shrewd, penetrating, loving gaze that Carley +quailed. + +"Yes, Carley, you look well--better than I ever saw you, but--but--" + +"But I don't look happy," interrupted Carley. "I am happy to get home--to +see you all . . . But--my--my heart is broken!" + +A little shocked silence ensued, then Carley found herself being led across +the lower level and up the wide stairway. As she mounted to the vast-domed +cathedral-like chamber of the station a strange sensation pierced her with +a pang. Not the old thrill of leaving New York or returning! Nor was it +the welcome sight of the hurrying, well-dressed throng of travelers and +commuters, nor the stately beauty of the station. Carley shut her eyes, and +then she knew. The dim light of vast space above, the looming gray walls, +shadowy with tracery of figures, the lofty dome like the blue sky, brought +back to her the walls of Oak Creek Canyon and the great caverns under the +ramparts. As suddenly as she had shut her eyes Carley opened them to face +her friends. + +"Let me get it over--quickly," she burst out, with hot blood surging to her +face. "I--I hated the West. It was so raw--so violent--so big. I think I +hate it more--now. . . . But it changed me--made me over physically--and +did something to my soul--God knows what. . . . And it has saved Glenn. Oh! +he is wonderful! You would never know him. . . . For long I had not the +courage to tell him I came to bring him back East. I kept putting it off. +And I rode, I climbed, I camped, I lived outdoors. At first it nearly +killed me. Then it grew bearable, and easier, until I forgot. I wouldn't be +honest if I didn't admit now that somehow I had a wonderful time, in spite +of all. . . . Glenn's business is raising hogs. He has a hog ranch. Doesn't +it sound sordid? But things are not always what they sound--or seem. Glenn +is absorbed in his work. I hated it--I expected to ridicule it. But I ended +by infinitely respecting him. I learned through his hog-raising the real +nobility of work. . . . Well, at last I found courage to ask him when he +was coming back to New York. He said 'never!' . . . I realized then my +blindness, my selfishness. I could not be his wife and live there. I could +not. I was too small, too miserable, too comfort-loving--too spoiled. And +all the time he knew this--knew I'd never be big enough to marry him. . . . +That broke my heart. I left him free--and here I am. . . . I beg you--don't +ask me any more--and never to mention it to me--so I can forget." + +The tender unspoken sympathy of women who loved her proved comforting in +that trying hour. With the confession ruthlessly made the hard compression +in Carley's breast subsided, and her eyes cleared of a hateful dimness. +When they reached the taxi stand outside the station Carley felt a rush of +hot devitalized air from the street. She seemed not to be able to get air +into her lungs. + +"Isn't it dreadfully hot?" she asked. + +"This is a cool spell to what we had last week," replied Eleanor. + +"Cool!" exclaimed Carley, as she wiped her moist face. "I wonder if you +Easterners know the real significance of words." + +Then they entered a taxi, to be whisked away apparently through a +labyrinthine maze of cars and streets, where pedestrians had to run and +jump for their lives. A congestion of traffic at Fifth Avenue and +Forty-second Street halted their taxi for a few moments, and here in the +thick of it Carley had full assurance that she was back in the metropolis. +Her sore heart eased somewhat at sight of the streams of people passing to +and fro. How they rushed! Where were they going? What was their story? And +all the while her aunt held her hand, and Beatrice and Eleanor talked as +fast as their tongues could wag. Then the taxi clattered on up the Avenue, +to turn down a side street and presently stop at Carley's home. It was a +modest three-story brown-stone house. Carley had been so benumbed by +sensations that she did not imagine she could experience a new one. But +peering out of the taxi, she gazed dubiously at the brownish-red stone +steps and front of her home. + +"I'm going to have it painted," she muttered, as if to herself. + +Her aunt and her friends laughed, glad and relieved to hear such a +practical remark from Carley. How were they to divine that this +brownish-red stone was the color of desert rocks and canyon walls? + +In a few more moments Carley was inside the house, feeling a sense of +protection in the familiar rooms that had been her home for seventeen +years. Once in the sanctity of her room, which was exactly as she had left +it, her first action was to look in the mirror at her weary, dusty, heated +face. Neither the brownness of it nor the shadow appeared to harmonize with +the image of her that haunted the mirror. + +"Now!" she whispered low. "It's done. I'm home. The old life--or a new life? +How to meet either. Now!" + +Thus she challenged her spirit. And her intelligence rang at her the +imperative necessity for action, for excitement, for effort that left no +time for rest or memory or wakefulness. She accepted the issue. She was +glad of the stern fight ahead of her. She set her will and steeled her +heart with all the pride and vanity and fury of a woman who had been +defeated but who scorned defeat. She was what birth and breeding and +circumstance had made her. She would seek what the old life held. + +What with unpacking and chatting and telephoning and lunching, the day soon +passed. Carley went to dinner with friends and later to a roof garden. The +color and light, the gayety and music, the news of acquaintances, the humor +of the actors--all, in fact, except the unaccustomed heat and noise, were +most welcome and diverting. That night she slept the sleep of weariness. + +Awakening early, she inaugurated a habit of getting up at once, instead of +lolling in bed, and breakfasting there, and reading her mail, as had been +her wont before going West. Then she went over business matters with her +aunt, called on her lawyer and banker, took lunch with Rose Maynard, and +spent the afternoon shopping. Strong as she was, the unaccustomed heat and +the hard pavements and the jostle of shoppers and the continual rush of +sensations wore her out so completely that she did not want any dinner. She +talked to her aunt a while, then went to bed. + +Next day Carley motored through Central Park, and out of town into +Westchester County, finding some relief from the seemed to look at the +dusty trees and the worn greens without really seeing them. In the +afternoon she called on friends, and had dinner at home with her aunt, and +then went to a theatre. The musical comedy was good, but the almost +unbearable heat and the vitiated air spoiled her enjoyment. That night upon +arriving home at midnight she stepped out of the taxi, and involuntarily, +without thought, looked up to see the stars. But there were no stars. A +murky yellow-tinged blackness hung low over the city. Carley recollected +that stars, and sunrises and sunsets, and untainted air, and silence were +not for city dwellers. She checked any continuation of the thought. + +A few days sufficed to swing her into the old life. Many of Carley's +friends had neither the leisure nor the means to go away from the city +during the summer. Some there were who might have afforded that if they had +seen fit to live in less showy apartments, or to dispense with cars. Other +of her best friends were on their summer outings in the Adirondacks. Carley +decided to go with her aunt to Lake Placid about the first of August. +Meanwhile she would keep going and doing. + +She had been a week in town before Morrison telephoned her and added his +welcome. Despite the gay gladness of his voice, it irritated her. Really, +she scarcely wanted to see him. But a meeting was inevitable, and besides, +going out with him was in accordance with the plan she had adopted. So she +made an engagement to meet him at the Plaza for dinner. When with slow and +pondering action she hung up the receiver it occurred to her that she +resented the idea of going to the Plaza. She did not dwell on the reason why. + +When Carley went into the reception room of the Plaza that night Morrison +was waiting for her--the same slim, fastidious, elegant, sallow-faced +Morrison whose image she had in mind, yet somehow different. He had what +Carley called the New York masculine face, blase and lined, with eyes that +gleamed, yet had no fire. But at sight of her his face lighted up. + +"By Jove! but you've come back a peach!" he exclaimed, clasping her +extended hand. "Eleanor told me you looked great. It's worth missing you to +see you like this." + +"Thanks, Larry," she replied. "I must look pretty well to win that +compliment from you. And how are you feeling? You don't seem robust for a +golfer and horseman. But then I'm used to husky Westerners." + +"Oh, I'm fagged with the daily grind," he said. "I'll be glad to get up in +the mountains next month. Let's go down to dinner." + +They descended the spiral stairway to the grillroom, where an orchestra was +playing jazz, and dancers gyrated on a polished floor, and diners in +evening dress looked on over their cigarettes. + +"Well, Carley, are you still finicky about the eats?" he queried, +consulting the menu. + +"No. But I prefer plain food," she replied. + +"Have a cigarette," he said, holding out his silver monogrammed case. + +"Thanks, Larry. I--I guess I'll not take up smoking again. You see, while I +was West I got out of the habit." + +"Yes, they told me you had changed," he returned. "How about drinking?" + +"Why, I thought New York had gone dry!" she said, forcing a laugh. + +"Only on the surface. Underneath it's wetter than ever." + +"Well, I'll obey the law." + +He ordered a rather elaborate dinner, and then turning his attention to +Carley, gave her closer scrutiny. Carley knew then that he had become +acquainted with the fact of her broken engagement. It was a relief not to +need to tell him. + +"How's that big stiff, Kilbourne?" asked Morrison, suddenly. "Is it true he +got well?" + +"Oh--yes! He's fine," replied Carley with eyes cast down. A hot knot seemed +to form deep within her and threatened to break and steal along her veins. +"But if you please--I do not care to talk of him." + +"Naturally. But I must tell you that one man's loss is another's gain." + +Carley had rather expected renewed courtship from Morrison. She had not, +however, been prepared for the beat of her pulse, the quiver of her nerves, +the uprising of hot resentment at the mere mention of Kilbourne. It was +only natural that Glenn's former rivals should speak of him, and perhaps +disparagingly. But from this man Carley could not bear even a casual +reference. Morrison had escaped the army service. He had been given a +high-salaried post at the ship-yards--the duties of which, if there had +been any, he performed wherever he happened to be. Morrison's father had +made a fortune in leather during the war. And Carley remembered Glenn +telling her he had seen two whole blocks in Paris piled twenty feet deep +with leather army goods that were never used and probably had never been +intended to be used. Morrison represented the not inconsiderable number of +young men in New York who had gained at the expense of the valiant legion +who had lost. But what had Morrison gained? Carley raised her eyes to gaze +steadily at him. He looked well-fed, indolent, rich, effete, and supremely +self-satisfied. She could not see that he had gained anything. She would +rather have been a crippled ruined soldier. + +"Larry, I fear gain and loss are mere words," she said. "The thing that +counts with me is what you are." + +He stared in well-bred surprise, and presently talked of a new dance which +had lately come into vogue. And from that he passed on to gossip of the +theatres. Once between courses of the dinner he asked Carley to dance, and +she complied. The music would have stimulated an Egyptian mummy, Carley +thought, and the subdued rose lights, the murmur of gay voices, the glide +and grace and distortion of the dancers, were exciting and pleasurable. +Morrison had the suppleness and skill of a dancing-master. But he held +Carley too tightly, and so she told him, and added, "I imbibed some fresh +pure air while I was out West--something you haven't here--and I don't want +it all squeezed out of me." + + +The latter days of July Carley made busy--so busy that she lost her tan and +appetite, and something of her splendid resistance to the dragging heat and +late hours. Seldom was she without some of her friends. She accepted almost +any kind of an invitation, and went even to Coney Island, to baseball +games, to the motion pictures, which were three forms of amusement not +customary with her. At Coney Island, which she visited with two of her +younger girl friends, she had the best time since her arrival home. What +had put her in accord with ordinary people? The baseball games, likewise +pleased her. The running of the players and the screaming of the spectators +amused and excited her. But she hated the motion pictures with their +salacious and absurd misrepresentations of life, in some cases capably +acted by skillful actors, and in others a silly series of scenes featuring +some doll-faced girl. + +But she refused to go horseback riding in Central Park. She refused to go +to the Plaza. And these refusals she made deliberately, without asking +herself why. + +On August 1st she accompanied her aunt and several friends to Lake Placid, +where they established themselves at a hotel. How welcome to Carley's +strained eyes were the green of mountains, the soft gleam of amber water! +How sweet and refreshing a breath of cool pure air! The change from New +York's glare and heat and dirt, and iron-red insulating walls, and +thronging millions of people, and ceaseless roar and rush, was tremendously +relieving to Carley. She had burned the candle at both ends. But the beauty +of the hills and vales, the quiet of the forest, the sight of the stars, +made it harder to forget. She had to rest. And when she rested she could +not always converse, or read, or write. + +For the most part her days held variety and pleasure. The place was +beautiful, the weather pleasant, the people congenial. She motored over the +forest roads, she canoed along the margin of the lake, she played golf and +tennis. She wore exquisite gowns to dinner and danced during the evenings. +But she seldom walked anywhere on the trails and, never alone, and she +never climbed the mountains and never rode a horse. + +Morrison arrived and added his attentions to those of other men. Carley +neither accepted nor repelled them. She favored the association with +married couples and older people, and rather shunned the pairing off +peculiar to vacationists at summer hotels. She had always loved to play and +romp with children, but here she found herself growing to avoid them, +somehow hurt by sound of pattering feet and joyous laughter. She filled the +days as best she could, and usually earned quick slumber at night. She +staked all on present occupation and the truth of flying time. + + +CHAPTER IX + +The latter part of September Carley returned to New York. + +Soon after her arrival she received by letter a formal proposal of marriage +from Elbert Harrington, who had been quietly attentive to her during her +sojourn at Lake Placid. He was a lawyer of distinction, somewhat older than +most of her friends, and a man of means and fine family. Carley was quite +surprised. Harrington was really one of the few of her acquaintances whom +she regarded as somewhat behind the times, and liked him the better for +that. But she could not marry him, and replied to his letter in as kindly a +manner as possible. Then he called personally. + +"Carley, I've come to ask you to reconsider," he said, with a smile in his +gray eyes. He was not a tall or handsome man, but he had what women called +a nice strong face. + +"Elbert, you embarrass me," she replied, trying to laugh it out. "Indeed I +feel honored, and I thank you. But I can't marry you." + +"Why not?" he asked, quietly. + +"Because I don't love you," she replied. + +"I did not expect you to," he said. "I hoped in time you might come to +care. I've known you a good many years, Carley. Forgive me if I tell you I +see you are breaking--wearing yourself down. Maybe it is not a husband you +need so much now, but you do need a home and children. You are wasting your +life." + +"All you say may be true, my friend," replied Carley, with a helpless +little upflinging of hands. "Yet it does not alter my feelings." + +"But you will marry sooner or later?" he queried, persistently. + +This straightforward question struck Carley as singularly as if it was one +she might never have encountered. It forced her to think of things she had +buried. + +"I don't believe I ever will," she answered, thoughtfully. + +"That is nonsense, Carley," he went on. "You'll have to marry. What else +can you do? With all due respect to your feelings--that affair with +Kilbourne is ended--and you're not the wishy-washy heartbreak kind of a +girl." + +"You can never tell what a woman will do," she said, somewhat coldly. + +"Certainly not. That's why I refuse to take no. Carley, be reasonable. You +like me--respect me, do you not?" + +"Why, of course I do!" + +"I'm only thirty-five, and I could give you all any sensible woman wants," +he said. "Let's make a real American home. Have you thought at all about +that, Carley? Something is wrong today. Men are not marrying. Wives are not +having children. Of all the friends I have, not one has a real American +home. Why, it is a terrible fact! But, Carley, you are not a +sentimentalist, or a melancholiac. Nor are you a waster. You have fine +qualities. You need something to do, some one to care for." + +"Pray do not think me ungrateful, Elbert," she replied, "nor insensible to +the truth of what you say. But my answer is no!" + +When Harrington had gone Carley went to her room, and precisely as upon her +return from Arizona she faced her mirror skeptically and relentlessly. "I +am such a liar that I'll do well to look at myself," she meditated. "Here I +am again. Now! The world expects me to marry. But what do I expect?" + +There was a raw unheated wound in Carley's heart. Seldom had she permitted +herself to think about it, let alone to probe it with hard materialistic +queries. But custom to her was as inexorable as life. If she chose to live +in the world she must conform to its customs. For a woman marriage was the +aim and the end and the all of existence. Nevertheless, for Carley it could +not be without love. Before she had gone West she might have had many of +the conventional modern ideas about women and marriage. But because out +there in the wilds her love and perception had broadened, now her +arraignment of herself and her sex was bigger, sterner, more exacting. The +months she had been home seemed fuller than all the months of her life. She +had tried to forget and enjoy; she had not succeeded; but she had looked +with far-seeing eyes at her world. Glenn Kilbourne's tragic fate had opened +her eyes. + +Either the world was all wrong or the people in it were. But if that were +an extravagant and erroneous supposition, there certainly was proof +positive that her own small individual world was wrong. The women did not +do any real work; they did not bear children; they lived on excitement and +luxury. They had no ideals. How greatly were men to blame? Carley doubted +her judgment here. But as men could not live without the smiles and +comradeship and love of women, it was only natural that they should give +the women what they wanted. Indeed, they had no choice. It was give or go +without. How much of real love entered into the marriages among her +acquaintances? Before marriage Carley wanted a girl to be sweet, proud, +aloof, with a heart of golden fire. Not attainable except through love! It +would be better that no children be born at all unless born of such +beautiful love. Perhaps that was why so few children were born. Nature's +balance and revenge! In Arizona Carley had learned something of the +ruthlessness and inevitableness of nature. She was finding out she had +learned this with many other staggering facts. + +"I love Glenn still," she whispered, passionately, with trembling lips, as +she faced the tragic-eyed image of herself in the mirror. "I love him more-- +more. Oh, my God! If I were honest I'd cry out the truth! It is terrible. +. . . I will always love him. How then could I marry any other man? I would +be a lie, a cheat. If I could only forget him--only kill that love. Then I +might love another man--and if I did love him--no matter what I had felt or +done before, I would be worthy. I could feel worthy. I could give him just +as much. But without such love I'd give only a husk--a body without soul." + +Love, then, was the sacred and holy flame of life that sanctioned the +begetting of children. Marriage might be a necessity of modern time, but it +was not the vital issue. Carley's anguish revealed strange and hidden +truths. In some inexplicable way Nature struck a terrible balance--revenged +herself upon a people who had no children, or who brought into the world +children not created by the divinity of love, unyearned for, and therefore +somehow doomed to carry on the blunders and burdens of life. + +Carley realized how right and true it might be for her to throw herself +away upon an inferior man, even a fool or a knave, if she loved him with +that great and natural love of woman; likewise it dawned upon her how false +and wrong and sinful it would be to marry the greatest or the richest or +the noblest man unless she had that supreme love to give him, and knew it +was reciprocated. + +"What am I going to do with my life?" she asked, bitterly and aghast. "I +have been--I am a waster. I've lived for nothing but pleasurable sensation. +I'm utterly useless. I do absolutely no good on earth." + +Thus she saw how Harrington's words rang true--how they had precipitated a +crisis for which her unconscious brooding had long made preparation. + +"Why not give up ideals and be like the rest of my kind?" she soliloquized. + +That was one of the things which seemed wrong with modern life. She thrust +the thought from her with passionate scorn. If poor, broken, ruined Glenn +Kilbourne could cling to an ideal and fight for it, could not she, who had +all the world esteemed worth while, be woman enough to do the same? The +direction of her thought seemed to have changed. She had been ready for +rebellion. Three months of the old life had shown her that for her it was +empty, vain, farcical, without one redeeming feature. The naked truth was +brutal, but it cut clean to wholesome consciousness. Such so-called social +life as she had plunged into deliberately to forget her unhappiness had +failed her utterly. If she had been shallow and frivolous it might have +done otherwise. Stripped of all guise, her actions must have been construed +by a penetrating and impartial judge as a mere parading of her decorated +person before a number of males with the purpose of ultimate selection. + +"I've got to find some work," she muttered, soberly. + +At the moment she heard the postman's whistle outside; and a little later +the servant brought up her mail. The first letter, large, soiled, thick, +bore the postmark Flagstaff, and her address in Glenn Kilbourne's writing. + +Carley stared at it. Her heart gave a great leap. Her hand shook. She sat +down suddenly as if the strength of her legs was inadequate to uphold her. + +"Glenn has--written me!" she whispered, in slow, halting realization. "For +what? Oh, why?" + +The other letters fell off her lap, to lie unnoticed. This big thick +envelope fascinated her. It was one of the stamped envelopes she had seen +in his cabin. It contained a letter that had been written on his rude +table, before the open fire, in the light of the doorway, in that little +log-cabin under the spreading pines of West Ford Canyon. Dared she read it? +The shock to her heart passed; and with mounting swell, seemingly too full +for her breast, it began to beat and throb a wild gladness through all her +being. She tore the envelope apart and read: + + +DEAR CARLEY: + +I'm surely glad for a good excuse to write you. + +Once in a blue moon I get a letter, and today Hutter brought me one from a +soldier pard of mine who was with me in the Argonne. His name is Virgil +Rust--queer name, don't you think?--and he's from Wisconsin. Just a rough- +diamond sort of chap, but fairly well educated. He and I were in some +pretty hot places, and it was he who pulled me out of a shell crater. I'd +"gone west" sure then if it hadn't been for Rust. + +Well, he did all sorts of big things during the war. Was down several times +with wounds. He liked to fight and he was a holy terror. We all thought +he'd get medals and promotion. But he didn't get either. These much-desired +things did not always go where they were best deserved. + +Rust is now lying in a hospital in Bedford Park. His letter is pretty blue. +All he says about why he's there is that he's knocked out. But he wrote a +heap about his girl. It seems he was in love with a girl in his home town-- +a pretty, big-eyed lass whose picture I've seen--and while he was overseas +she married one of the chaps who got out of fighting. Evidently Rust is +deeply hurt. He wrote: "I'd not care so . . . if she'd thrown me down to +marry an old man or a boy who couldn't have gone to war." You see, Carley, +service men feel queer about that sort of thing. It's something we got over +there, and none of us will ever outlive it. Now, the point of this is that +I am asking you to go see Rust, and cheer him up, and do what you can for +the poor devil. It's a good deal to ask of you, I know, especially as Rust +saw your picture many a time and knows you were my girl. But you needn't +tell him that you--we couldn't make a go of it. + +And, as I am writing this to you, I see no reason why I shouldn't go on in +behalf of myself. + +The fact is, Carley, I miss writing to you more than I miss anything of my +old life. I'll bet you have a trunkful of letters from me--unless you've +destroyed them. I'm not going to say how I miss your letters. But I will +say you wrote the most charming and fascinating letters of anyone I ever +knew, quite aside from any sentiment. You knew, of course, that I had no +other girl correspondent. Well, I got along fairly well before you came +West, but I'd be an awful liar if I denied I didn't get lonely for you and +your letters. It's different now that you've been to Oak Creek. I'm alone +most of the time and I dream a lot, and I'm afraid I see you here in my +cabin, and along the brook, and under the pines, and riding Calico--which +you came to do well--and on my hogpen fence--and, oh, everywhere! I don't +want you to think I'm down in the mouth, for I'm not. I'll take my +medicine. But, Carley, you spoiled me, and I miss hearing from you, and I +don't see why it wouldn't be all right for you to send me a friendly letter +occasionally. + +It is autumn now. I wish you could see Arizona canyons in their gorgeous +colors. We have had frost right along and the mornings are great. There's a +broad zigzag belt of gold halfway up the San Francisco peaks, and that is +the aspen thickets taking on their fall coat. Here in the canyon you'd +think there was blazing fire everywhere. The vines and the maples are red, +scarlet, carmine, cerise, magenta, all the hues of flame. The oak leaves +are turning russet gold, and the sycamores are yellow green. Up on the +desert the other day I rode across a patch of asters, lilac and lavender, +almost purple. I had to get off and pluck a handful. And then what do you +think? I dug up the whole bunch, roots and all, and planted them on the +sunny side of my cabin. I rather guess your love of flowers engendered this +remarkable susceptibility in me. + +I'm home early most every afternoon now, and I like the couple of hours +loafing around. Guess it's bad for me, though. You know I seldom hunt, and +the trout in the pool here are so tame now they'll almost eat out of my +hand. I haven't the heart to fish for them. The squirrels, too, have grown +tame and friendly. There's a red squirrel that climbs up on my table. And +there's a chipmunk who lives in my cabin and runs over my bed. I've a new +pet--the little pig you christened Pinky. After he had the wonderful good +fortune to be caressed and named by you I couldn't think of letting him +grow up in an ordinary piglike manner. So I fetched him home. My dog, Moze, +was jealous at first and did not like this intrusion, but now they are good +friends and sleep together. Flo has a kitten she's going to give me, and +then, as Hutter says, I'll be "Jake." + +My occupation during these leisure hours perhaps would strike my old +friends East as idle, silly, mawkish. But I believe you will understand me. + +I have the pleasure of doing nothing, and of catching now and then a +glimpse of supreme joy in the strange state of thinking nothing. Tennyson +came close to this in his "Lotus Eaters." Only to see--only to feel is +enough! + +Sprawled on the warm sweet pine needles, I breathe through them the breath +of the earth and am somehow no longer lonely. I cannot, of course, see the +sunset, but I watch for its coming on the eastern wall of the canyon. I see +the shadow slowly creep up, driving the gold before it, until at last the +canyon rim and pines are turned to golden fire. I watch the sailing eagles +as they streak across the gold, and swoop up into the blue, and pass out of +sight. I watch the golden flush fade to gray, and then, the canyon slowly +fills with purple shadows. This hour of twilight is the silent and +melancholy one. Seldom is there any sound save the soft rush of the water +over the stones, and that seems to die away. For a moment, perhaps, I am +Hiawatha alone in his forest home, or a more primitive savage, feeling the +great, silent pulse of nature, happy in unconsciousness, like a beast of +the wild. But only for an instant do I ever catch this fleeting state. Next +I am Glenn Kilbourne of West Fork, doomed and haunted by memories of the +past. The great looming walls then become no longer blank. They are vast +pages of the history of my life, with its past and present, and, alas! its +future. Everything time does is written on the stones. And my stream seems +to murmur the sad and ceaseless flow of human life, with its music and its +misery. + +Then, descending from the sublime to the humdrum and necessary, I heave a +sigh, and pull myself together, and go in to make biscuits and fry ham. But +I should not forget to tell you that before I do go in, very often my +looming, wonderful walls and crags weave in strange shadowy characters the +beautiful and unforgettable face of Carley Burch! + +I append what little news Oak Creek affords. + +That blamed old bald eagle stole another of my pigs. + +I am doing so well with my hog-raising that Hutter wants to come in with +me, giving me an interest in his sheep. + +It is rumored some one has bought the Deep Lake section I wanted for a +ranch. I don't know who. Hutter was rather noncommittal. + +Charley, the herder, had one of his queer spells the other day, and swore +to me he had a letter from you. He told the blamed lie with a sincere and +placid eye, and even a smile of pride. Queer guy, that Charley! + +Flo and Lee Stanton had another quarrel--the worst yet, Lee tells me. Flo +asked a girl friend out from Flag and threw her in Lee's way, so to speak, +and when Lee retaliated by making love to the girl Flo got mad. Funny +creatures, you girls! Flo rode with me from High Falls to West Fork, and +never showed the slightest sign of trouble. In fact she was delightfully +gay. She rode Calico, and beat me bad in a race. + +Adios, Carley. Won't you write me? + +GLENN. + + +No sooner had Carley read the letter through to the end than she began it +all over again, and on this second perusal she lingered over passages--only +to reread them. That suggestion of her face sculptured by shadows on the +canyon walls seemed to thrill her very soul. + +She leaped up from the reading to cry out something that was unutterable. +All the intervening weeks of shame and anguish and fury and strife and +pathos, and the endless striving to forget, were as if by the magic of a +letter made nothing but vain oblations. + +"He loves me still!" she whispered, and pressed her breast with clenching +hands, and laughed in wild exultance, and paced her room like a caged +lioness. It was as if she had just awakened to the assurance she was +beloved. That was the shibboleth--the cry by which she sounded the closed +depths of her love and called to the stricken life of a woman's insatiate +vanity. + +Then she snatched up the letter, to scan it again, and, suddenly grasping +the import of Glenn's request, she hurried to the telephone to find the +number of the hospital in Bedford Park. A nurse informed her that visitors +were received at certain hours and that any attention to disabled soldiers +was most welcome. + +Carley motored out there to find the hospital merely a long one-story frame +structure, a barracks hastily thrown up for the care of invalided men of +the service. The chauffeur informed her that it had been used for that +purpose during the training period of the army, and later when injured +soldiers began to arrive from France. + +A nurse admitted Carley into a small bare anteroom. Carley made known her +errand. + +"I'm glad it's Rust you want to see," replied the nurse. "Some of these +boys are going to die. And some will be worse off if they live. But Rust +may get well if he'll only behave. You are a relative--or friend?" + +"I don't know him," answered Carley. "But I have a friend who was with him +in France." + +The nurse led Carley into a long narrow room with a line of single beds +down each side, a stove at each end, and a few chairs. Each bed appeared to +have an occupant and those nearest Carley lay singularly quiet. At the far +end of the room were soldiers on crutches, wearing bandages on their beads, +carrying their arms in slings. Their merry voices contrasted discordantly +with their sad appearance. + +Presently Carley stood beside a bed and looked down upon a gaunt, haggard +young man who lay propped up on pillows. + +"Rust--a lady to see you," announced the nurse. + +Carley had difficulty in introducing herself. Had Glenn ever looked like +this? What a face! It's healed scar only emphasized the pallor and furrows +of pain that assuredly came from present wounds. He had unnaturally bright +dark eyes, and a flush of fever in his hollow cheeks. + +"How do!" he said, with a wan smile. "Who're you?" + +"I'm Glenn Kilbourne's fiancee," she replied, holding out her hand. + +"Say, I ought to've known you," he said, eagerly, and a warmth of light +changed the gray shade of his face. "You're the girl Carley! You're almost +like my--my own girl. By golly! You're some looker! It was good of you to +come. Tell me about Glenn." + +Carley took the chair brought by the nurse, and pulling it close to the +bed, she smiled down upon him and said: "I'll be glad to tell you all I +know--presently. But first you tell me about yourself. Are you in pain? +What is your trouble? You must let me do everything I can for you, and +these other men." + +Carley spent a poignant and depth-stirring hour at the bedside of Glenn's +comrade. At last she learned from loyal lips the nature of Glenn +Kilbourne's service to his country. How Carley clasped to her sore heart +the praise of the man she loved--the simple proofs of his noble disregard +of self! Rust said little about his own service to country or to comrade. +But Carley saw enough in his face. He had been like Glenn. By these two +Carley grasped the compelling truth of the spirit and sacrifice of the +legion of boys who had upheld American traditions. Their children and +their children's children, as the years rolled by into the future, would +hold their heads higher and prouder. Some things could never die in the +hearts and the blood of a race. These boys, and the girls who had the +supreme glory of being loved by them, must be the ones to revive the +Americanism of their forefathers. Nature and God would take care of +the slackers, the cowards who cloaked their shame with bland excuses +of home service, of disability, and of dependence. + +Carley saw two forces in life--the destructive and constructive. On the one +side greed, selfishness, materialism: on the other generosity, sacrifice, +and idealism. Which of them builded for the future? She saw men as wolves, +sharks, snakes, vermin, and opposed to them men as lions and eagles. She +saw women who did not inspire men to fare forth to seek, to imagine, to +dream, to hope, to work, to fight. She began to have a glimmering of what a +woman might be. + + +That night she wrote swiftly and feverishly, page after page, to Glenn, +only to destroy what she had written. She could not keep her heart out of +her words, nor a hint of what was becoming a sleepless and eternal regret. +She wrote until a late hour, and at last composed a letter she knew did not +ring true, so stilted and restrained was it in all passages save those +concerning news of Glenn's comrade and of her own friends. "I'll +never--never write him again," she averred with stiff lips, and next moment +could have laughed in mockery at the bitter truth. If she had ever had any +courage, Glenn's letter had destroyed it. But had it not been a kind of +selfish, false courage, roused to hide her hurt, to save her own future? +Courage should have a thought of others. Yet shamed one moment at the +consciousness she would write Glenn again and again, and exultant the next +with the clamouring love, she seemed to have climbed beyond the self that +had striven to forget. She would remember and think though she died of +longing. + +Carley, like a drowning woman, caught at straws. What a relief and joy to +give up that endless nagging at her mind! For months she had kept +ceaselessly active, by associations which were of no help to her and which +did not make her happy, in her determination to forget. Suddenly then she +gave up to remembrance. She would cease trying to get over her love for +Glenn, and think of him and dream about him as much as memory dictated. +This must constitute the only happiness she could have. + +The change from strife to surrender was so novel and sweet that for days +she felt renewed. It was augmented by her visits to the hospital in Bedford +Park. Through her bountiful presence Virgil Rust and his comrades had many +dull hours of pain and weariness alleviated and brightened. Interesting +herself in the condition of the seriously disabled soldiers and possibility +of their future took time and work Carley gave willingly and gladly. At +first she endeavored to get acquaintances with means and leisure to help +the boys, but these overtures met with such little success that she quit +wasting valuable time she could herself devote to their interests. + +Thus several weeks swiftly passed by. Several soldiers who had been more +seriously injured than Rust improved to the extent that they were +discharged. But Rust gained little or nothing. The nurse and doctor both +informed Carley that Rust brightened for her, but when she was gone he +lapsed into somber indifference. He did not care whether he ate or not, or +whether he got well or died. + +"If I do pull out, where'll I go and what'll I do?" he once asked the +nurse. + +Carley knew that Rust's hurt was more than loss of a leg, and she decided +to talk earnestly to him and try to win him to hope and effort. He had come +to have a sort of reverence for her. So, biding her time, she at length +found opportunity to approach his bed while his comrades were asleep or out +of hearing. He endeavored to laugh her off, and then tried subterfuge, and +lastly he cast off his mask and let her see his naked soul. + +"Carley, I don't want your money or that of your kind friends--whoever they +are--you say will help me to get into business," he said. "God knows I +thank you and it warms me inside to find some one who appreciates what I've +given. But I don't want charity. . . . And I guess I'm pretty sick of the +game. I'm sorry the Boches didn't do the job right." + +"Rust, that is morbid talk," replied Carley. "You're ill and you just can't +see any hope. You must cheer up--fight yourself; and look at the brighter +side. It's a horrible pity you must be a cripple, but Rust, indeed life can +be worth living if you make it so." + +"How could there be a brighter side when a man's only half a man--" he +queried, bitterly. + +"You can be just as much a man as ever," persisted Carley, trying to smile +when she wanted to cry. + +"Could you care for a man with only one leg?" he asked, deliberately. + +"What a question! Why, of course I could!" + +"Well, maybe you are different. Glenn always swore even if he was killed no +slacker or no rich guy left at home could ever get you. Maybe you haven't +any idea how much it means to us fellows to know there are true and +faithful girls. But I'll tell you, Carley, we fellows who went across got +to see things strange when we came home. The good old U. S. needs a lot of +faithful girls just now, believe me." + +"Indeed that's true," replied Carley. "It's a hard time for everybody, and +particularly you boys who have lost so--so much." + +"I lost all, except my life--and I wish to God I'd lost that," he replied, +gloomily. + +"Oh, don't talk so!" implored Carley in distress. "Forgive me, Rust, if I +hurt you. But I must tell you--that--that Glenn wrote me--you'd lost your +girl. Oh, I'm sorry! It is dreadful for you now. But if you got well--and +went to work--and took up life where you left it--why soon your pain would +grow easier. And you'd find some happiness yet." + +"Never for me in this world." + +"But why, Rust, why? You're no--no--Oh! I mean you have intelligence and +courage. Why isn't there anything left for you?" + +"Because something here's been killed," he replied, and put his hand to his +heart. + +"Your faith? Your love of--of everything? Did the war kill it?" + +"I'd gotten over that, maybe," he said, drearily, with his somber eyes on +space that seemed lettered for him. "But she half murdered it--and they did +the rest." + +"They? Whom do you mean, Rust?" + +"Why, Carley, I mean the people I lost my leg for!" he replied, with +terrible softness. + +"The British? The French?" she queried, in bewilderment. + +"No!" he cried, and turned his face to the wall. + +Carley dared not ask him more. She was shocked. How helplessly impotent all +her earnest sympathy! No longer could she feel an impersonal, however +kindly, interest in this man. His last ringing word had linked her also to +his misfortune and his suffering. Suddenly he turned away from the wall. +She saw him swallow laboriously. How tragic that thin, shadowed face of +agony! Carley saw it differently. But for the beautiful softness of light +in his eyes, she would have been unable to endure gazing longer. + +"Carley, I'm bitter," he said, "but I'm not rancorous and callous, like some +of the boys. I know if you'd been my girl you'd have stuck to me." + +"Yes," Carley whispered. + +"That makes a difference," he went on, with a sad smile. "You see, we +soldiers all had feelings. And in one thing we all felt alike. That was we +were going to fight for our homes and our women. I should say women first. +No matter what we read or heard about standing by our allies, fighting for +liberty or civilization, the truth was we all felt the same, even if we +never breathed it. . . . Glenn fought for you. I fought for Nell. . . . We +were not going to let the Huns treat you as they treated French and Belgian +girls. . . . And think! Nell was engaged to me--she loved me--and, by God! +She married a slacker when I lay half dead on the battlefield!" + +"She was not worth loving or fighting for," said Carley, with agitation. + +"Ah! now you've said something," he declared. "If I can only hold to that +truth! What does one girl amount to? I do not count. It is the sum that +counts. We love America--our homes--our women! . . . Carley, I've had +comfort and strength come to me through you. Glenn will have his reward in +your love. Somehow I seem to share it, a little. Poor Glenn! He got his, +too. Why, Carley, that guy wouldn't let you do what he could do for you. He +was cut to pieces--" + +"Please--Rust--don't say any more. I am unstrung," she pleaded. + +"Why not? It's due you to know how splendid Glenn was. . . . I tell you, +Carley, all the boys here love you for the way you've stuck to Glenn. Some +of them knew him, and I've told the rest. We thought he'd never pull +through. But he has, and we know how you helped. Going West to see him! He +didn't write it to me, but I know. . . . I'm wise. I'm happy for him--the +lucky dog. Next time you go West--" + +"Hush!" cried Carley. She could endure no more. She could no longer be a +lie. + +"You're white--you're shaking," exclaimed Rust, in concern. "Oh, I--what +did I say? Forgive me--" + +"Rust, I am no more worth loving and fighting for than your Nell." + +"What!" he ejaculated. + +"I have not told you the truth," she said, swiftly. "I have let you believe +a lie. . . . I shall never marry Glenn. I broke my engagement to him." + +Slowly Rust sank back upon the pillow, his large luminous eyes piercingly +fixed upon her, as if he would read her soul. + +"I went West--yes--" continued Carley. "But it was selfishly. I wanted +Glenn to come back here. . . . He had suffered as you have. He nearly died. +But he fought--he fought--Oh! he went through hell! And after a long, slow, +horrible struggle he began to mend. He worked. He went to raising hogs. He +lived alone. He worked harder and harder. . . . The West and his work saved +him, body and soul . . . . He had learned to love both the West and his +work. I did not blame him. But I could not live out there. He needed me. +But I was too little--too selfish. I could not marry him. I gave him up. +. . . I left--him--alone!" + +Carley shrank under the scorn in Rust's eyes. + +"And there's another man," he said, "a clean, straight, unscarred fellow +who wouldn't fight!" + +"Oh, no-I--I swear there's not," whispered Carley. + +"You, too," he replied, thickly. Then slowly he turned that worn dark face +to the wall. His frail breast heaved. And his lean hand made her a slight +gesture of dismissal, significant and imperious. + +Carley fled. She could scarcely see to find the car. All her internal being +seemed convulsed, and a deadly faintness made her sick and cold. + + +CHAPTER X + +Carley's edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in ruins +about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal for +foundation. It had to fall. + +Something inevitable had forced her confession to Rust. Dissimulation had +been a habit of her mind; it was more a habit of her class than sincerity. +But she had reached a point in her mental strife where she could not stand +before Rust and let him believe she was noble and faithful when she knew +she was neither. Would not the next step in this painful metamorphosis of +her character be a fierce and passionate repudiation of herself and all she +represented? + +She went home and locked herself in her room, deaf to telephone and +servants. There she gave up to her shame. Scorned--despised--dismissed by +that poor crippled flame-spirited Virgil Rust! He had reverenced her, and +the truth had earned his hate. Would she ever forget his look--incredulous-- +shocked--bitter--and blazing with unutterable contempt? Carley Burch was +only another Nell--a jilt--a mocker of the manhood of soldiers! Would she +ever cease to shudder at memory of Rust's slight movement of hand? Go! Get +out of my sight! Leave me to my agony as you left Glenn Kilbourne alone to +fight his! Men such as I am do not want the smile of your face, the touch +of your hand! We gave for womanhood! Pass on to lesser men who loved the +fleshpots and who would buy your charms! So Carley interpreted that slight +gesture, and writhed in her abasement. + +Rust threw a white, illuminating light upon her desertion of Glenn. She had +betrayed him. She had left him alone. Dwarfed and stunted was her narrow +soul! To a man who had given all for her she had returned nothing. Stone +for bread! Betrayal for love! Cowardice for courage! + +The hours of contending passions gave birth to vague, slow-forming revolt. + +She became haunted by memory pictures and sounds and smells of Oak Creek +Canyon. As from afar she saw the great sculptured rent in the earth, green +and red and brown, with its shining, flashing ribbons of waterfalls and +streams. The mighty pines stood up magnificent and stately. The walls +loomed high, shadowed under the shelves, gleaming in the sunlight, and they +seemed dreaming, waiting, watching. For what? For her return to their +serene fastnesses--to the little gray log cabin. The thought stormed +Carley's soul. + +Vivid and intense shone the images before her shut eyes. She saw the +winding forest floor, green with grass and fern, colorful with flower and +rock. A thousand aisles, glades, nooks, and caverns called her to come. +Nature was every woman's mother. The populated city was a delusion. Disease +and death and corruption stalked in the shadows of the streets. But her +canyon promised hard work, playful hours, dreaming idleness, beauty, +health, fragrance, loneliness, peace, wisdom, love, children, and long +life. In the hateful shut-in isolation of her room Carley stretched forth +her arms as if to embrace the vision. Pale close walls, gleaming placid +stretches of brook, churning amber and white rapids, mossy banks and +pine-matted ledges, the towers and turrets and ramparts where the eagles +wheeled--she saw them all as beloved images lost to her save in anguished +memory. + +She heard the murmur of flowing water, soft, low, now loud, and again +lulling, hollow and eager, tinkling over rocks, bellowing into the deep +pools, washing with silky seep of wind-swept waves the hanging willows. +Shrill and piercing and far-aloft pealed the scream of the eagle. And she +seemed to listen to a mocking bird while he mocked her with his melody of +many birds. The bees hummed, the wind moaned, the leaves rustled, the +waterfall murmured. Then came the sharp rare note of a canyon swift, most +mysterious of birds, significant of the heights. + +A breath of fragrance seemed to blow with her shifting senses. The dry, +sweet, tangy canyon smells returned to her--of fresh-cut timber, of wood +smoke, of the cabin fire with its steaming pots, of flowers and earth, and +of the wet stones, of the redolent pines and the pungent cedars. + +And suddenly, clearly, amazingly, Carley beheld in her mind's sight the +hard features, the bold eyes, the slight smile, the coarse face of Haze +Ruff. She had forgotten him. But he now returned. And with memory of him +flashed a revelation as to his meaning in her life. He had appeared merely +a clout, a ruffian, an animal with man's shape and intelligence. But he was +the embodiment of the raw, crude violence of the West. He was the eyes of +the natural primitive man, believing what he saw. He had seen in Carley +Burch the paraded charm, the unashamed and serene front, the woman seeking +man. Haze Ruff had been neither vile nor base nor unnatural. It had been +her subjection to the decadence of feminine dress that had been unnatural. +But Ruff had found her a lie. She invited what she did not want. And his +scorn had been commensurate with the falsehood of her. So might any man +have been justified in his insult to her, in his rejection of her. Haze +Ruff had found her unfit for his idea of dalliance. Virgil Rust had found +her false to the ideals of womanhood for which he had sacrificed all but +life itself. What then had Glenn Kilbourne found her? He possessed the +greatness of noble love. He had loved her before the dark and changeful +tide of war had come between them. How had he judged her? That last sight +of him standing alone, leaning with head bowed, a solitary figure trenchant +with suggestion of tragic resignation and strength, returned to flay +Carley. He had loved, trusted, and hoped. She saw now what his hope had +been--that she would have instilled into her blood the subtle, red, and +revivifying essence of calling life in the open, the strength of the wives +of earlier years, an emanation from canyon, desert, mountain, forest, of +health, of spirit, of forward-gazing natural love, of the mysterious saving +instinct he had gotten out of the West. And she had been too little too +steeped in the indulgence of luxurious life too slight-natured and +pale-blooded! And suddenly there pierced into the black storm of Carley's +mind a blazing, white-streaked thought--she had left Glenn to the Western +girl, Flo Hutter. Humiliated, and abased in her own sight, Carley fell prey +to a fury of jealousy. + +She went back to the old life. But it was in a bitter, restless, critical +spirit, conscious of the fact that she could derive neither forgetfulness +nor pleasure from it, nor see any release from the habit of years. + +One afternoon, late in the fall, she motored out to a Long Island club +where the last of the season's golf was being enjoyed by some of her most +intimate friends. Carley did not play. Aimlessly she walked around the +grounds, finding the autumn colors subdued and drab, like her mind. The air +held a promise of early winter. She thought that she would go South before +the cold came. Always trying to escape anything rigorous, hard, painful, or +disagreeable! Later she returned to the clubhouse to find her party assembled +on an inclosed porch, chatting and partaking of refreshment. Morrison +was there. He had not taken kindly to her late habit of denying herself to +him. + +During a lull in the idle conversation Morrison addressed Carley pointedly. +"Well, Carley, how's your Arizona hog-raiser?" he queried, with a little +gleam in his usually lusterless eyes. + +"I have not heard lately," she replied, coldly. + +The assembled company suddenly quieted with a portent inimical to their +leisurely content of the moment. Carley felt them all looking at her, and +underneath the exterior she preserved with extreme difficulty, there burned +so fierce an anger that she seemed to have swelling veins of fire. + +"Queer how Kilbourne went into raising hogs," observed Morrison. "Such a +low-down sort of work, you know." + +"He had no choice," replied Carley. "Glenn didn't have a father who made +tainted millions out of the war. He had to work. And I must differ with you +about its being low-down. No honest work is that. It is idleness that is +low down." + +"But so foolish of Glenn when he might have married money," rejoined +Morrison, sarcastcally. + +"The honor of soldiers is beyond your ken, Mr. Morrison." + +He flushed darkly and bit his lip. + +"You women make a man sick with this rot about soldiers," he said, the +gleam in his eye growing ugly. "A uniform goes to a woman's head no matter +what's inside it. I don't see where your vaunted honor of soldiers comes +in considering how they accepted the let-down of women during and after the +war." + +"How could you see when you stayed comfortably at home?" retorted Carley. + +"All I could see was women falling into soldiers' arms," he said, sullenly. + +"Certainly. Could an American girl desire any greater happiness--or +opportunity to prove her gratitude?" flashed Carley, with proud uplift of +head. + +"It didn't look like gratitude to me," returned Morrison. + +"Well, it was gratitude," declared Carley, ringingly. "If women of America +did throw themselves at soldiers it was not owing to the moral lapse of the +day. It was woman's instinct to save the race! Always, in every war, women +have sacrificed themselves to the future. Not vile, but noble! . . . You +insult both soldiers and women, Mr. Morrison. I wonder--did any American +girls throw themselves at you?" + +Morrison turned a dead white, and his mouth twisted to a distorted checking +of speech, disagreeable to see. + +"No, you were a slacker," went on Carley, with scathing scorn. "You let the +other men go fight for American girls. Do you imagine one of them will ever +marry you? . . . All your life, Mr. Morrison, you will be a marked man-- +outside the pale of friendship with real American men and the respect of +real American girls." + +Morrison leaped up, almost knocking the table over, and he glared at Carley +as he gathered up his hat and cane. She turned her back upon him. From that +moment he ceased to exist for Carley. She never spoke to him again. + + +Next day Carley called upon her dearest friend, whom she had not seen for +some time. + +"Carley dear, you don't look so very well," said Eleanor, after greetings +had been exchanged. + +"Oh, what does it matter how I look?" queried Carley, impatiently. + +"You were so wonderful when you got home from Arizona." + +"If I was wonderful and am now commonplace you can thank your old New York +for it." + +"Carley, don't you care for New York any more?" asked Eleanor. + +"Oh, New York is all right, I suppose. It's I who am wrong." + +"My dear, you puzzle me these days. You've changed. I'm sorry. I'm afraid +you're unhappy." + +"Me? Oh, impossible! I'm in a seventh heaven," replied Carley, with a hard +little laugh. "What 're you doing this afternoon? Let's go out--riding--or +somewhere." + +"I'm expecting the dressmaker." + +"Where are you going to-night?" + +"Dinner and theater. It's a party, or I'd ask you." + +"What did you do yesterday and the day before, and the days before that?" + +Eleanor laughed indulgently, and acquainted Carley with a record of her +social wanderings during the last few days. + +"The same old things--over and over again! Eleanor don't you get sick of +it?" queried Carley. + +"Oh yes, to tell the truth," returned Eleanor, thoughtfully. "But there's +nothing else to do." + +"Eleanor, I'm no better than you," said Carley, with disdain. "I'm as +useless and idle. But I'm beginning to see myself--and you--and all this +rotten crowd of ours. We're no good. But you're married, Eleanor. You're +settled in life. You ought to do something. I'm single and at loose ends. +Oh, I'm in revolt! . . . Think, Eleanor, just think. Your husband works +hard to keep you in this expensive apartment. You have a car. He dresses +you in silks and satins. You wear diamonds. You eat your breakfast in bed. +You loll around in a pink dressing gown all morning. You dress for lunch or +tea. You ride or golf or worse than waste your time on some lounge lizard, +dancing till time to come home to dress for dinner. You let other men make +love to you. Oh, don't get sore. You do. . . . And so goes the round of +your life. What good on earth are you, anyhow? You're just a--a +gratification to the senses of your husband. And at that you don't see much +of him." + +"Carley, how you rave!" exclaimed her friend. "What has gotten into you +lately? Why, everybody tells me you're--you're queer! The way you insulted +Morrison--how unlike you, Carley!" + +"I'm glad I found the nerve to do it. What do you think, Eleanor?" + +"Oh, I despise him. But you can't say the things you feel." + +"You'd be bigger and truer if you did. Some day I'll break out and flay you +and your friends alive." + +"But, Carley, you're my friend and you're just exactly like we are. Or you +were, quite recently." + +"Of course, I'm your friend. I've always loved you, Eleanor," went on +Carley, earnestly. "I'm as deep in this--this damned stagnant muck as you, +or anyone. But I'm no longer blind. There's something terribly wrong with +us women, and it's not what Morrison hinted." + +"Carley, the only thing wrong with you is that you jilted poor Glenn--and +are breaking your heart over him still." + +"Don't--don't!" cried Carley, shrinking. "God knows that is true. But +there's more wrong with me than a blighted love affair." + +"Yes, you mean the modern feminine unrest?" + +"Eleanor, I positively hate that phrase 'modern feminine unrest!' It smacks +of ultra--ultra--Oh! I don't know what. That phrase ought to be translated +by a Western acquaintance of mine--one Haze Ruff. I'd not like to hurt your +sensitive feelings with what he'd say. But this unrest means speed-mad, +excitement-mad, fad-mad, dress-mad, or I should say undress-mad, culture- +mad, and Heaven only knows what else. The women of our set are idle, +luxurious, selfish, pleasure-craving, lazy, useless, work-and-children +shirking, absolutely no good." + +"Well, if we are, who's to blame?" rejoined Eleanor, spiritedly. "Now, +Carley Burch, you listen to me. I think the twentieth-century girl in +America is the most wonderful female creation of all the ages of the +universe. I admit it. That is why we are a prey to the evils attending +greatness. Listen. Here is a crying sin--an infernal paradox. Take this +twentieth-century girl, this American girl who is the finest creation of +the ages. A young and healthy girl, the most perfect type of culture +possible to the freest and greatest city on earth--New York! She holds +absolutely an unreal, untrue position in the scheme of existence. +Surrounded by parents, relatives, friends, suitors, and instructive schools +of every kind, colleges, institutions, is she really happy, is she really +living?" + +"Eleanor," interrupted Carley, earnestly, "she is not. . . . And I've been +trying to tell you why." + +"My dear, let me get a word in, will you," complained Eleanor. "You don't +know it all. There are as many different points of view as there are +people. . . . Well, if this girl happened to have a new frock, and a new +beau to show it to, she'd say, 'I'm the happiest girl in the world.' But +she is nothing of the kind. Only she doesn't know that. She approaches +marriage, or, for that matter, a more matured life, having had too much, +having been too well taken care of, knowing too much. Her masculine +satellites--father, brothers, uncles, friends, lovers--all utterly spoil +her. Mind you, I mean, girls like us, of the middle class--which is to say +the largest and best class of Americans. We are spoiled. . . . This girl +marries. And life goes on smoothly, as if its aim was to exclude friction +and effort. Her husband makes it too easy for her. She is an ornament, or a +toy, to be kept in a luxurious cage. To soil her pretty hands would be +disgraceful! Even f she can't afford a maid, the modern devices of science +make the care of her four-room apartment a farce. Electric dish-washer, +clothes-washer, vacuum-cleaner, and the near-by delicatessen and the +caterer simply rob a young wife of her housewifely heritage. If she has a +baby--which happens occasionally, Carley, in spite of your assertion--it +very soon goes to the kindergarten. Then what does she find to do with +hours and hours? If she is not married, what on earth can she find to do?" + +"She can work," replied Carley, bluntly. + +"Oh yes, she can, but she doesn't," went on Eleanor. "You don't work. I +never did. We both hated the idea. You're calling spades spades, Carley, +but you seem to be riding a morbid, impractical thesis. Well, our young +American girl or bride goes in for being rushed or she goes in for fads, +the ultra stuff you mentioned. New York City gets all the great artists, +lecturers, and surely the great fakirs. The New York women support them. +The men laugh, but they furnish the money. They take the women to the +theaters, but they cut out the reception to a Polish princess, a lecture by +an Indian magician and mystic, or a benefit luncheon for a Home for +Friendless Cats. The truth is most of our young girls or brides have a +wonderful enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. What is to become of their +surplus energy, the bottled-lightning spirit so characteristic of modern +girls? Where is the outlet for intense feelings? What use can they make of +education or of gifts? They just can't, that's all. I'm not taking into +consideration the new-woman species, the faddist or the reformer. I mean +normal girls like you and me. Just think, Carley. A girl's every wish, +every need, is almost instantly satisfied without the slightest effort on +her part to obtain it. No struggle, let alone work! If women crave to +achieve something outside of the arts, you know, something universal and +helpful which will make men acknowledge her worth, if not the equality, +where is the opportunity?" + +"Opportunities should be made," replied Carley. + +"There are a million sides to this question of the modern young woman--the +fin-de-siecle girl. I'm for her!" + +"How about the extreme of style in dress for this remarkably-to-be-pitied +American girl you champion so eloquently?" queried Carley, sarcastically. + +"Immoral!" exclaimed Eleanor with frank disgust. + +"You admit it?" + +"To my shame, I do." + +"Why do women wear extreme clothes? Why do you and I wear open-work silk +stockings, skirts to our knees, gowns without sleeves or bodices?" + +"We're slaves to fashion," replied Eleanor, "That's the popular excuse." + +"Bah!" exclaimed Carley. + +Eleanor laughed in spite of being half nettled. "Are you going to stop +wearing what all the other women wear--and be looked at askance? Are you +going to be dowdy and frumpy and old-fashioned?" + +"No. But I'll never wear anything again that can be called immoral. I want +to be able to say why I wear a dress. You haven't answered my question yet. +Why do you wear what you frankly admit is disgusting?" + +"I don't know, Carley," replied Eleanor, helplessly. "How you harp on +things! We must dress to make other women jealous and to attract men. To be +a sensation! Perhaps the word 'immoral' is not what I mean. A woman will be +shocking in her obsession to attract, but hardly more than that, if she +knows it." + +"Ah! So few women realize how they actually do look. Haze Ruff could tell +them." + +"Haze Ruff. Who in the world is he or she?" asked Eleanor. + +"Haze Ruff is a he, all right," replied Carley, grimly. + +"Well, who is he?" + +"A sheep-dipper in Arizona," answered Carley, dreamily. + +"Humph! And what can Mr. Ruff tell us?" + +"He told me I looked like one of the devil's angels--and that I dressed to +knock the daylights out of men." + +"Well, Carley Burch, if that isn't rich!" exclaimed Eleanor, with a peal of +laughter. "I dare say you appreciate that as an original compliment." + +"No. . . . I wonder what Ruff would say about jazz--I just wonder," +murmured Carley. + +"Well, I wouldn't care what he said, and I don't care what you say," +returned Eleanor. "The preachers and reformers and bishops and rabbis make +me sick. They rave about jazz. Jazz--the discordant note of our decadence! +Jazz--the harmonious expression of our musicless, mindless, soulless +materialism!--The idiots! If they could be women for a while they would +realize the error of their ways. But they will never, never abolish jazz-- +never, for it is the grandest, the most wonderful, the most absolutely +necessary thing for women in this terrible age of smotheration." + +"All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not agree," +said Carley. "You leave the future of women to chance, to life, to +materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it to free +will and idealism." + +"Carley, you are getting a little beyond me," declared Eleanor, dubiously. + +"What are you going to do? It all comes home to each individual woman. Her +attitude toward life." + +"I'll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good sport," replied +Eleanor, smiling. + +"You don't care about the women and children of the future? You'll not deny +yourself now, and think and work, and suffer a little, in the interest of +future humanity?" + +"How you put things, Carley!" exclaimed Eleanor, wearily. "Of course I +care--when you make me think of such things. But what have I to do with the +lives of people in the years to come?" + +"Everything. America for Americans! While you dawdle, the life blood is +being sucked out of our great nation. It is a man's job to fight; it is a +woman's to save. . . . I think you've made your choice, though you don't +realize it. I'm praying to God that I'll rise to mine." + + +Carley had a visitor one morning earlier than the usual or conventional +time for calls. + +"He wouldn't give no name," said the maid. "He wears soldier clothes, +ma'am, and he's pale, and walks with a cane." + +"Tell him I'll be right down," replied Carley. + +Her hands trembled while she hurriedly dressed. Could this caller be Virgil +Rust? She hoped so, but she doubted. + +As she entered the parlor a tall young man in worn khaki rose to meet her. +At first glance she could not name him, though she recognized the pale face +and light-blue eyes, direct and steady. + +"Good morning, Miss Burch," he said. "I hope you'll excuse so early a call. +You remember me, don't you? I'm George Burton, who had the bunk next to +Rust's." + +"Surely I remember you, Mr. Burton, and I'm glad to see you," replied +Carley, shaking hands with him. "Please sit down. Your being here must mean +you're discharged from the hospital." + +"Yes, I was discharged, all right," he said. + +"Which means you're well again. That is fine. I'm very glad." + +"I was put out to make room for a fellow in bad shape. I'm still shaky and +weak," he replied. "But I'm glad to go. I've pulled through pretty good, +and it'll not be long until I'm strong again. It was the 'flu' that kept me +down." + +"You must be careful. May I ask where you're going and what you expect to +do?" + +"Yes, that's what I came to tell you," he replied, frankly. "I want you to +help me a little. I'm from Illinois and my people aren't so badly off. But +I don't want to go back to my home town down and out, you know. Besides, +the winters are cold there. The doctor advises me to go to a little milder +climate. You see, I was gassed, and got the 'flu' afterward. But I know +I'll be all right if I'm careful. . . . Well, I've always had a leaning +toward agriculture, and I want to go to Kansas. Southern Kansas. I want to +travel around till I find a place I like, and there I'll get a job. Not too +hard a job at first--that's why I'll need a little money. I know what to do. +I want to lose myself in the wheat country and forget the--the war. I'll +not be afraid of work, presently. . . . Now, Miss Burch, you've been so +kind--I'm going to ask you to lend me a little money. I'll pay it back. I +can't promise just when. But some day. Will you?" + +"Assuredly I will," she replied, heartily. "I'm happy to have the +opportunity to help you. How much will you need for immediate use? Five +hundred dollars?" + +"Oh no, not so much as that," he replied. "Just railroad fare home, and +then to Kansas, and to pay board while I get well, you know, and look +around." + +"We'll make it five hundred, anyway," she replied, and, rising, she went +toward the library. "Excuse me a moment." She wrote the check and, +returning, gave it to him. + +"You're very good," he said, rather low. + +"Not at all," replied Carley. "You have no idea how much it means to me to +be permitted to help you. Before I forget, I must ask you, can you cash +that check here in New York?" + +"Not unless you identify me," he said, ruefully, "I don't know anyone I +could ask." + +"Well, when you leave here go at once to my bank--it's on Thirty-fourth +Street--and I'll telephone the cashier. So you'll not have any difficulty. +Will you leave New York at once?" + +"I surely will. It's an awful place. Two years ago when I came here with my +company I thought it was grand. But I guess I lost something over there. +. . . I want to be where it's quiet. Where I won't see many people." + +"I think I understand," returned Carley. "Then I suppose you're in a hurry +to get home? Of course you have a girl you're just dying to see?" + +"No, I'm sorry to say I haven't," he replied, simply. "I was glad I didn't +have to leave a sweetheart behind, when I went to France. But it wouldn't +be so bad to have one to go back to now." + +"Don't you worry!" exclaimed Carley. "You can take your choice presently. +You have the open sesame to every real American girl's heart." + +"And what is that?" he asked, with a blush. + +"Your service to your country," she said, gravely. + +"Well," he said, with a singular bluntness, "considering I didn't get any +medals or bonuses, I'd like to draw a nice girl." + +"You will," replied Carley, and made haste to change the subject. "By the +way, did you meet Glenn Kilbourne in France?" + +"Not that I remember," rejoined Burton, as he got up, rising rather stiffly +by aid of his cane. "I must go, Miss Burch. Really I can't thank you +enough. And I'll never forget it." + +"Will you write me how you are getting along?" asked Carley, offering her +hand. + +"Yes." + +Carley moved with him out into the hall and to the door. There was a +question she wanted to ask, but found it strangely difficult of utterance. +At the door Burton fixed a rather penetrating gaze upon her. + +"You didn't ask me about Rust," he said. + +"No, I--I didn't think of him--until now, in fact," Carley lied. + +"Of course then you couldn't have heard about him. I was wondering." + +"I have heard nothing." + +"It was Rust who told me to come to you," said Burton. "We were talking one +day, and he--well, he thought you were true blue. He said he knew you'd +trust me and lend me money. I couldn't have asked you but for him." + +"True blue! He believed that. I'm glad. . . . Has he spoken of me to you +since I was last at the hospital?" + +"Hardly," replied Burton, with the straight, strange glance on her again. + +Carley met this glance and suddenly a coldness seemed to envelop her. It +did not seem to come from within though her heart stopped beating. Burton +had not changed--the warmth, the gratitude still lingered about him. But +the light of his eyes! Carley had seen it in Glenn's, in Rust's--a strange, +questioning, far-off light, infinitely aloof and unutterably sad. Then +there came a lift of her heart that released a pang. She whispered with +dread, with a tremor, with an instinct of calamity. + +"How about--Rust?" + +"He's dead." + + +The winter came, with its bleak sea winds and cold rains and blizzards of +snow. Carley did not go South. She read and brooded, and gradually avoided +all save those true friends who tolerated her. + +She went to the theater a good deal, showing preference for the drama of +strife, and she did not go anywhere for amusement. Distraction and +amusement seemed to be dead issues for her. But she could become absorbed +in any argument on the good or evil of the present day. Socialism reached +into her mind, to be rejected. She had never understood it clearly, but it +seemed to her a state of mind where dissatisfied men and women wanted to +share what harder working or more gifted people possessed. There were a few +who had too much of the world's goods and many who had too little. A +readjustment of such inequality and injustice must come, but Carley did not +see the remedy in Socialism. + +She devoured books on the war with a morbid curiosity and hope that she +would find some illuminating truth as to the uselessness of sacrificing +young men in the glory and prime of their lives. To her war appeared a +matter of human nature rather than politics. Hate really was an effect of +war. In her judgment future wars could be avoided only in two ways--by men +becoming honest and just or by women refusing to have children to be +sacrificed. As there seemed no indication whatever of the former, she +wondered how soon all women of all races would meet on a common height, +with the mounting spirit that consumed her own heart. Such time must come. +She granted every argument for war and flung against it one ringing +passionate truth--agony of mangled soldiers and agony of women and children. +There was no justification for offensive war. It was monstrous and hideous. +If nature and evolution proved the absolute need of strife, war, blood, and +death in the progress of animal and man toward perfection, then it would be +better to abandon this Christless code and let the race of man die out. + +All through these weeks she longed for a letter from Glenn. But it did not +come. Had he finally roused to the sweetness and worth and love of the +western girl, Flo Hutter? Carley knew absolutely, through both intelligence +and intuition, that Glenn Kilbourne would never love Flo. Yet such was her +intensity and stress at times, especially in the darkness of waking hours, +that jealousy overcame her and insidiously worked its havoc. Peace and a +strange kind of joy came to her in dreams of her walks and rides and climbs +in Arizona, of the lonely canyon where it always seemed afternoon, of the +tremendous colored vastness of that Painted Desert. But she resisted these +dreams now because when she awoke from them she suffered such a yearning +that it became unbearable. Then she knew the feeling of the loneliness and +solitude of the hills. Then she knew the sweetness of the murmur of falling +water, the wind in the pines, the song of birds, the white radiance of the +stars, the break of day and its gold-flushed close. But she had not yet +divined their meaning. It was not all love for Glenn Kilbourne. Had city +life palled upon her solely because of the absence of her lover? So Carley +plodded on, like one groping in the night, fighting shadows. + +One day she received a card from an old schoolmate, a girl who had married +out of Carley's set, and had been ostracized. She was living down on Long +Island, at a little country place named Wading River. Her husband was an +electrician--something of an inventor. He worked hard. A baby boy had just +come to them. Would not Carley run down on the train to see the youngster? + +That was a strong and trenchant call. Carley went. She found indeed a +country village, and on the outskirts of it a little cottage that must have +been pretty in summer, when the green was on vines and trees. Her old +schoolmate was rosy, plump, bright-eyed, and happy. She saw in Carley no +change--a fact that somehow rebounded sweetly on Carley's consciousness. +Elsie prattled of herself and her husband and how they had worked to earn +this little home, and then the baby. + +When Carley saw the adorable dark-eyed, pink-toed, curly-fisted baby she +understood Elsie's happiness and reveled in it. When she felt the soft, +warm, living little body in her arms, against her breast, then she absorbed +some incalculable and mysterious strength. What were the trivial, sordid, +and selfish feelings that kept her in tumult compared to this welling +emotion? Had she the secret in her arms? Babies and Carley had never become +closely acquainted in those infrequent meetings that were usually the +result of chance. But Elsie's baby nestled to her breast and cooed to her +and clung to her finger. When at length the youngster was laid in his crib +it seemed to Carley that the fragrance and the soul of him remained with +her. + +"A real American boy!" she murmured. + +"You can just bet he is," replied Elsie. "Carley, you ought to see his dad." + +"I'd like to meet him," said Carley, thoughtfully. "Elsie, was he in the +service?" + +"Yes. He was on one of the navy transports that took munitions to France. +Think of me, carrying this baby, with my husband on a boat full of +explosives and with German submarines roaming the ocean! Oh, it was +horrible!" + +"But he came back, and now all's well with you," said Carley, with a smile +of earnestness. "I'm very glad, Elsie." + +"Yes--but I shudder when I think of a possible war in the future. I'm going +to raise boys, and girls, too, I hope--and the thought of war is +torturing." + +Carley found her return train somewhat late, and she took advantage of the +delay to walk out to the wooded headlands above the Sound. + +It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray sky. +Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places. This bit of woodland +had a floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley's feet. There were sere and +brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks. At length Carley came out +on the edge of the bluff with the gray expanse of sea beneath her, and a +long wandering shore line, ragged with wreckage or driftwood. The surge of +water rolled in--a long, low, white, creeping line that softly roared on +the beach and dragged the pebbles gratingly back. There was neither boat +nor living creature in sight. + +Carley felt the scene ease a clutching hand within her breast. Here was +loneliness and solitude vastly different from that of Oak Creek Canyon, yet +it held the same intangible power to soothe. The swish of the surf, the +moan of the wind in the evergreens, were voices that called to her. How +many more miles of lonely land than peopled cities! Then the sea--how vast! +And over that the illimitable and infinite sky, and beyond, the endless +realms of space. It helped her somehow to see and hear and feel the eternal +presence of nature. In communion with nature the significance of life might +be realized. She remembered Glenn quoting: "The world is too much with us. +. . . Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." What were our powers? +What did God intend men to do with hands and bodies and gifts and souls? +She gazed back over the bleak land and then out across the broad sea. Only +a millionth part of the surface of the unsubmerged earth knew the populous +abodes of man. And the lonely sea, inhospitable to stable homes of men, was +thrice the area of the land. Were men intended, then, to congregate in few +places, to squabble and to bicker and breed the discontents that led to +injustice, hatred, and war? What a mystery it all was! But Nature was +neither false nor little, however cruel she might be. + + +Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal. Wavering now, +restless and sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of apathy, +she was wearing to defeat. + +That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for Arizona, +she wished to spend alone. But her thoughts grew unbearable. She summed up +the endless year. Could she live another like it? Something must break +within her. + +She went out. The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current +which caused the mild madness of spring fever. In the Park the greening of +the grass, the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness of +children, the light on the water, the warm sun--all seemed to reproach her. +Carley fled from the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; and there, +unhappily, she encountered those of her acquaintance with whom she had +least patience. They forced her to think too keenly of herself. They +appeared carefree while she was miserable. + +Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism. When +Carley entered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur. + +"Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces," called out Geralda Conners, a +fair, handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the latest +mode, and whose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one of +health. + +"Say what, Geralda?" asked Carley. "I certainly would not say anything +behind your backs that I wouldn't repeat here." + +"Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up." + +"We did have an argument. And I'm not sure I said all I wanted to." + +"Say the rest here," drawled a lazy, mellow voice. "For Heaven's sake, stir +us up. If I could get a kick out of anything I'd bless it." + +"Carley, go on the stage," advised another. "You've got Elsie Ferguson tied +to the mast for looks. And lately you're surely tragic enough." + +"I wish you'd go somewhere far off!" observed a third. "My husband is dippy +about you." + +"Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in your +heads?" retorted Carley. + +"Sensible? I should hope not. Who wants to be sensible?" + +Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer. "Listen," she called. "I wasn't +kidding Carley. I am good and sore. She goes around knocking everybody and +saying New York backs Sodom off the boards. I want her to come out with it +right here." + +"I dare say I've talked too much," returned Carley. "It's been a rather +hard winter on me. Perhaps, indeed, I've tried the patience of my friends." + +"See here, Carley," said Geralda, deliberately, "just because you've had +life turn to bitter ashes in your mouth you've no right to poison it for +us. We all find it pretty sweet. You're an unsatisfied woman and if you +don't marry somebody you'll end by being a reformer or fanatic." + +"I'd rather end that way than rot in a shell," retorted Carley. + +"I declare, you make me see red, Carley," flashed Geralda, angrily. "No +wonder Morrison roasts you to everybody. He says Glenn Kilbourne threw you +down for some Western girl. If that's true it's pretty small of you to vent +your spleen on us." + +Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda Conners +was nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt. + +"I have no spleen," she replied, with a dignity of passion. "I have only +pity. I was as blind as you. If heartbreak tore the scales from my eyes, +perhaps that is well for me. For I see something terribly wrong in myself, +in you, in all of us, in the life of today." + +"You keep your pity to yourself. You need it," answered Geralda, with heat. +"There's nothing wrong with me or my friends or life in good old New York." + +"Nothing wrong!" cried Carley. "Listen. Nothing wrong in you or life +today--nothing for you women to make right? You are blind as bats--as dead +to living truth as if you were buried. Nothing wrong when thousands of +crippled soldiers have no homes--no money--no friends--no work--in many +cases no food or bed? . . . Splendid young men who went away in their prime +to fight for you and came back ruined, suffering! Nothing wrong when sane +women with the vote might rid politics of partisanship, greed, crookedness? +Nothing wrong when prohibition is mocked by women--when the greatest boon +ever granted this country is derided and beaten down and cheated? Nothing +wrong when there are half a million defective children in this city? +Nothing wrong when there are not enough schools and teachers to educate our +boys and girls, when those teachers are shamefully underpaid? Nothing wrong +when the mothers of this great country let their youngsters go to the dark +motion picture halls and night after night in thousands of towns over all +this broad land see pictures that the juvenile court and the educators and +keepers of reform schools say make burglars, crooks, and murderers of our +boys and vampires of our girls? Nothing wrong when these young adolescent +girls ape you and wear stockings rolled under their knees below their +skirts and use a lip stick and paint their faces and darken their eyes and +pluck their eyebrows and absolutely do not know what shame is? Nothing +wrong when you may find in any city women standing at street corners +distributing booklets on birth control? Nothing wrong when great magazines +print no page or picture without its sex appeal? Nothing wrong when the +automobile, so convenient for the innocent little run out of town, presents +the greatest evil that ever menaced American girls! Nothing wrong when +money is god--when luxury, pleasure, excitement, speed are the striven for? +Nothing wrong when some of your husbands spend more of their time with +other women than with you? Nothing wrong with jazz--where the lights go out +in the dance hall and the dancers jiggle and toddle and wiggle in a +frenzy? Nothing wrong in a country where the greatest college cannot report +birth of one child to each graduate in ten years? Nothing wrong with race +suicide and the incoming horde of foreigners? . . . Nothing wrong with you +women who cannot or will not stand childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of +you, when if you did have a child, you could not nurse it? . . . Oh, my +God, there's nothing wrong with America except that she staggers under a +Titanic burden that only mothers of sons can remove! . . . You doll women, +you parasites, you toys of men, you silken-wrapped geisha girls, you +painted, idle, purring cats, you parody of the females of your species-- +find brains enough if you can to see the doom hanging over you and revolt +before it is too late!" + + +CHAPTER XI + +Carley burst in upon her aunt. + +"Look at me, Aunt Mary!" she cried, radiant and exultant. "I'm going back +out West to marry Glenn and live his life!" + +The keen old eyes of her aunt softened and dimmed. "Dear Carley, I've known +that for a long time. You've found yourself at last." + +Then Carley breathlessly babbled her hastily formed plans, every word of +which seemed to rush her onward. + +"You're going to surprise Glenn again?" queried Aunt Mary. + +"Oh, I must! I want to see his face when I tell him." + +"Well, I hope he won't surprise you," declared the old lady. "When did you +hear from him last?" + +"In January. It seems ages--but--Aunt Mary, you don't imagine Glenn--" + +"I imagine nothing," interposed her aunt. "It will turn out happily and +I'll have some peace in my old age. But, Carley, what's to become of me?" + +"Oh, I never thought!" replied Carley, blankly. "It will be lonely for you. +Auntie, I'll come back in the fall for a few weeks. Glenn will let me." + +"Let you? Ye gods! So you've come to that? Imperious Carley Burch! . . . +Thank Heaven, you'll now be satisfied to be let do things." + +"I'd--I'd crawl for him," breathed Carley. + +"Well, child, as you can't be practical, I'll have to be," replied Aunt +Mary, seriously. "Fortunately for you I am a woman of quick decision. +Listen. I'll go West with you. I want to see the Grand Canyon. Then I'll go +on to California, where I have old friends I've not seen for years. When +you get your new home all fixed up I'll spend awhile with you. And if I +want to come back to New York now and then I'll go to a hotel. It is +settled. I think the change will benefit me." + +"Auntie, you make me very happy. I could ask no more," said Carley. + + +Swiftly as endless tasks could make them the days passed. But those on the +train dragged interminably. + +Carley sent her aunt through to the Canyon while she stopped off at +Flagstaff to store innumerable trunks and bags. The first news she heard of +Glenn and the Hutters was that they had gone to the Tonto Basin to buy hogs +and would be absent at least a month. This gave birth to a new plan in +Carley's mind. She would doubly surprise Glenn. Wherefore she took council +with some Flagstaff business men and engaged them to set a force of men at +work on the Deep Lake property, making the improvements she desired, and +hauling lumber, cement, bricks, machinery, supplies--all the necessaries for +building construction. Also she instructed them to throw up a tent house +for her to live in during the work, and to engage a reliable Mexican man +with his wife for servants. When she left for the Canyon she was happier +than ever before in her life. + +It was near the coming of sunset when Carley first looked down into the +Grand Canyon. She had forgotten Glenn's tribute to this place. In her +rapturous excitement of preparation and travel the Canyon had been merely a +name. But now she saw it and she was stunned. + +What a stupendous chasm, gorgeous in sunset color on the heights, purpling +into mystic shadows in the depths! There was a wonderful brightness of all +the millions of red and yellow and gray surfaces still exposed to the sun. +Carley did not feel a thrill, because feeling seemed inhibited. She looked +and looked, yet was reluctant to keep on looking. She possessed no image in +mind with which to compare this grand and mystic spectacle. A +transformation of color and shade appeared to be going on swiftly, as if +gods were changing the scenes of a Titanic stage. As she gazed the dark +fringed line of the north rim turned to burnished gold, and she watched +that with fascinated eyes. It turned rose, it lost its fire, it faded to +quiet cold gray. The sun had set. + +Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim. There was a sweet +tang of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance peculiar +to the canyon country of Arizona. How it brought back to Carley remembrance +of Oak Creek! In the west, across the purple notches of the abyss, a dull +gold flare showed where the sun had gone down. + +In the morning at eight o'clock there were great irregular black shadows +under the domes and peaks and escarpments. Bright Angel Canyon was all +dark, showing dimly its ragged lines. At noon there were no shadows and all +the colossal gorge lay glaring under the sun. In the evening Carley watched +the Canyon as again the sun was setting. + +Deep dark-blue shadows, like purple sails of immense ships, in wonderful +contrast with the bright sunlit slopes, grew and rose toward the east, down +the canyons and up the walls that faced the west. For a long while there +was no red color, and the first indication of it was a dull bronze. Carley +looked down into the void, at the sailing birds, at the precipitous slopes, +and the dwarf spruces and the weathered old yellow cliffs. When she looked +up again the shadows out there were no longer dark. They were clear. The +slopes and depths and ribs of rock could be seen through them. Then the +tips of the highest peaks and domes turned bright red. Far to the east she +discerned a strange shadow, slowly turning purple. One instant it grew +vivid, then began to fade. Soon after that all the colors darkened and +slowly the pale gray stole over all. + +At night Carley gazed over and into the black void. But for the awful sense +of depth she would not have known the Canyon to be there. A soundless +movement of wind passed under her. The chasm seemed a grave of silence. It +was as mysterious as the stars and as aloof and as inevitable. It had held +her senses of beauty and proportion in abeyance. + +At another sunrise the crown of the rim, a broad belt of bare rock, turned +pale gold under its fringed dark line of pines. The tips of the peak +gleamed opal. There was no sunrise red, no fire. The light in the east was +a pale gold under a steely green-blue sky. All the abyss of the Canyon was +soft, gray, transparent, and the belt of gold broadened downward, making +shadows on the west slopes of the mesas and escarpments. Far down in the +shadows she discerned the river, yellow, turgid, palely gleaming. By +straining her ears Carley heard a low dull roar as of distant storm. She +stood fearfully at the extreme edge of a stupendous cliff, where it sheered +dark and forbidding, down and down, into what seemed red and boundless +depths of Hades. She saw gold spots of sunlight on the dark shadows, +proving that somewhere, impossible to discover, the sun was shining through +wind-worn holes in the sharp ridges. Every instant Carley grasped a +different effect. Her studied gaze absorbed an endless changing. And at +last she realized that sun and light and stars and moon and night and +shade, all working incessantly and mutably over shapes and lines and angles +and surfaces too numerous and too great for the sight of man to hold, made +an ever-changing spectacle of supreme beauty and colorful grandeur. + +She talked very little while at the Canyon. It silenced her. She had come +to see it at the critical time of her life and in the right mood. The +superficialities of the world shrunk to their proper insignificance. Once +she asked her aunt: "Why did not Glenn bring me here?" As if this Canyon +proved the nature of all things! + +But in the end Carley found that the rending strife of the transformation +of her attitude toward life had insensibly ceased. It had ceased during the +long watching of this cataclysm of nature, this canyon of gold-banded +black-fringed ramparts, and red-walled mountains which sloped down to be +lost in purple depths. That was final proof of the strength of nature to +soothe, to clarify, to stabilize the tried and weary and upward-gazing +soul. Stronger than the recorded deeds of saints, stronger than the +eloquence of the gifted uplifters of men, stronger than any words ever +written, was the grand, brooding, sculptured aspect of nature. And it must +have been so because thousands of years before the age of saints or +preachers--before the fret and symbol and figure were cut in stone--man must +have watched with thought-developing sight the wonders of the earth, the +monuments of time, the glooming of the dark-blue sea, the handiwork of God. + + +In May, Carley returned to Flagstaff to take up with earnest inspiration +the labors of homebuilding in a primitive land. + +It required two trucks to transport her baggage and purchases out to Deep +Lake. The road was good for eighteen miles of the distance, until it +branched off to reach her land, and from there it was desert rock and sand. +But eventually they made it; and Carley found herself and belongings dumped +out into the windy and sunny open. The moment was singularly thrilling and +full of transport. She was free. She had shaken off the shackles. She faced +lonely, wild, barren desert that must be made habitable by the genius of +her direction and the labor of her hands. Always a thought of Glenn hovered +tenderly, dreamily in the back of her consciousness, but she welcomed the +opportunity to have a few weeks of work and activity and solitude before +taking up her life with him. She wanted to adapt herself to the +metamorphosis that had been wrought in her. + +To her amazement and delight, a very considerable progress had been made +with her plans. Under a sheltered red cliff among the cedars had been +erected the tents where she expected to live until the house was completed. +These tents were large, with broad floors high off the ground, and there +were four of them. Her living tent had a porch under a wide canvas awning. +The bed was a boxlike affair, raised off the floor two feet, and it +contained a great, fragrant mass of cedar boughs upon which the blankets +were to be spread. At one end was a dresser with large mirror, and a +chiffonier. There were table and lamp, a low rocking chair, a shelf for +books, a row of hooks upon which to hang things, a washstand with its +necessary accessories, a little stove and a neat stack of cedar chips and +sticks. Navajo rugs on the floor lent brightness and comfort. + +Carley heard the rustling of cedar branches over her head, and saw where +they brushed against the tent roof. It appeared warm and fragrant inside, +and protected from the wind, and a subdued white light filtered through the +canvas. Almost she felt like reproving herself for the comfort surrounding +her. For she had come West to welcome the hard knocks of primitive life. + +It took less than an hour to have her trunks stored in one of the spare +tents, and to unpack clothes and necessaries for immediate use. Carley +donned the comfortable and somewhat shabby outdoor garb she had worn at Oak +Creek the year before; and it seemed to be the last thing needed to make +her fully realize the glorious truth of the present. + +"I'm here," she said to her pale, yet happy face in the mirror. "The +impossible has happened. I have accepted Glenn's life. I have answered that +strange call out of the West." + +She wanted to throw herself on the sunlit woolly blankets of her bed and +hug them, to think and think of the bewildering present happiness, to dream +of the future, but she could not lie or sit still, nor keep her mind from +grasping at actualities and possibilities of this place, nor her hands from +itching to do things. + +It developed, presently, that she could not have idled away the time even +if she had wanted to, for the Mexican woman came for her, with smiling +gesticulation and jabber that manifestly meant dinner. Carley could not +understand many Mexican words, and herein she saw another task. This +swarthy woman and her sloe-eyed husband favorably impressed Carley. + +Next to claim her was Hoyle, the superintendent. "Miss Burch," he said, "in +the early days we could run up a log cabin in a jiffy. Axes, horses, strong +arms, and a few pegs--that was all we needed. But this house you've planned +is different. It's good you've come to take the responsibility." + +Carley had chosen the site for her home on top of the knoll where Glenn had +taken her to show her the magnificent view of mountains and desert. Carley +climbed it now with beating heart and mingled emotions. A thousand times +already that day, it seemed, she had turned to gaze up at the noble +white-clad peaks. They were closer now, apparently looming over her, and +she felt a great sense of peace and protection in the thought that they +would always be there. But she had not yet seen the desert that had haunted +her for a year. When she reached the summit of the knoll and gazed out +across the open space it seemed that she must stand spellbound. How green +the cedared foreground--how gray and barren the downward slope--how +wonderful the painted steppes! The vision that had lived in her memory +shrank to nothingness. The reality was immense, more than beautiful, +appalling in its isolation, beyond comprehension with its lure and strength +to uplift. + +But the superintendent drew her attention to the business at hand. + +Carley had planned an L-shaped house of one story. Some of her ideas +appeared to be impractical, and these she abandoned. The framework was up +and half a dozen carpenters were lustily at work with saw and hammer. + +"We'd made better progress if this house was in an ordinary place," +explained Hoyle. "But you see the wind blows here, so the framework had to +be made as solid and strong as possible. In fact, it's bolted to the +sills." + +Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted Desert +could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole of the San +Francisco Mountains. Both rooms were to have open fireplaces. Carley's idea +was for service and durability. She thought of comfort in the severe +winters of that high latitude, but elegance and luxury had no more +significance in her life. + +Hoyle made his suggestions as to changes and adaptations, and, receiving +her approval, he went on to show her what had been already accomplished. +Back on higher ground a reservoir of concrete was being constructed near an +ever-flowing spring of snow water from the peaks. This water was being +piped by gravity to the house, and was a matter of greatest satisfaction to +Hoyle, for he claimed that it would never freeze in winter, and would be +cold and abundant during the hottest and driest of summers. This assurance +solved the most difficult and serious problem of ranch life in the desert. + +Next Hoyle led Carley down off the knoll to the wide cedar valley adjacent +to the lake. He was enthusiastic over its possibilities. Two small corrals +and a large one had been erected, the latter having a low flat barn +connected with it. Ground was already being cleared along the lake where +alfalfa and hay were to be raised. Carley saw the blue and yellow smoke +from burning brush, and the fragrant odor thrilled her. Mexicans were +chopping the cleared cedars into firewood for winter use. + +The day was spent before she realized it. At sunset the carpenters and +mechanics left in two old Ford cars for town. The Mexicans had a camp in +the cedars, and the Hoyles had theirs at the spring under the knoll where +Carley had camped with Glenn and the Hutters. Carley watched the golden +rosy sunset, and as the day ended she breathed deeply as if in unutterable +relief. Supper found her with appetite she had long since lost. Twilight +brought cold wind, the staccato bark of coyotes, the flicker of camp fires +through the cedars. She tried to embrace all her sensations, but they were +so rapid and many that she failed. + +The cold, clear, silent night brought back the charm of the desert. How +flaming white the stars! The great spire-pointed peaks lifted cold +pale-gray outlines up into the deep star-studded sky. Carley walked a +little to and fro, loath to go to her tent, though tired. She wanted calm. +But instead of achieving calmness she grew more and more towards a strange +state of exultation. + +Westward, only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, lay the deep rent in the +level desert--Oak Creek Canyon. If Glenn had been there this night would +have been perfect, yet almost unendurable. She was again grateful for his +absence. What a surprise she had in store for him! And she imagined his +face in its change of expression when she met him. If only he never learned +of her presence in Arizona until she made it known in person! That she most +longed for. Chances were against it, but then her luck had changed. She +looked to the eastward where a pale luminosity of afterglow shone in the +heavens. Far distant seemed the home of her childhood, the friends she had +scorned and forsaken, the city of complaining and striving millions. If +only some miracle might illumine the minds of her friends, as she felt that +hers was to be illumined here in the solitude. But she well realized that +not all problems could be solved by a call out of the West. Any open and +lonely land that might have saved Glenn Kilbourne would have sufficed for +her. It was the spirit of the thing and not the letter. It was work of any +kind and not only that of ranch life. Not only the raising of hogs! + +Carley directed stumbling steps toward the light of her tent. Her eyes had +not been used to such black shadow along the ground. She had, too, +squeamish feminine fears of hydrophobia skunks, and nameless animals or +reptiles that were imagined denizens of the darkness. She gained her tent +and entered. The Mexican, Gino, as he called himself, had lighted her lamp +and fire. Carley was chilled through, and the tent felt so warm and cozy +that she could scarcely believe it. She fastened the screen door, laced the +flaps across it, except at the top, and then gave herself up to the lulling +and comforting heat. + +There were plans to perfect; innumerable things to remember; a car and +accessories, horses, saddles, outfits to buy. Carley knew she should sit +down at her table and write and figure, but she could not do it then. + +For a long time she sat over the little stove, toasting her knees and +hands, adding some chips now and then to the red coals. And her mind seemed +a kaleidoscope of changing visions, thoughts, feelings. At last she +undressed and blew out the lamp and went to bed. + +Instantly a thick blackness seemed to enfold her and silence as of a dead +world settled down upon her. Drowsy as she was, she could not close her +eyes nor refrain from listening. Darkness and silence were tangible things. +She felt them. And they seemed suddenly potent with magic charm to still +the tumult of her, to soothe and rest, to create thoughts she had never +thought before. Rest was more than selfish indulgence. Loneliness was +necessary to gain consciousness of the soul. Already far back in the past +seemed Carley's other life. + +By and by the dead stillness awoke to faint sounds not before perceptible +to her--a low, mournful sough of the wind in the cedars, then the faint +far-distant note of a coyote, sad as the night and infinitely wild. + + +Days passed. Carley worked in the mornings with her hands and her brains. +In the afternoons she rode and walked and climbed with a double object, to +work herself into fit physical condition and to explore every nook and +corner of her six hundred and forty acres. + +Then what she had expected and deliberately induced by her efforts quickly +came to pass. Just as the year before she had suffered excruciating pain +from aching muscles, and saddle blisters, and walking blisters, and a very +rending of her bones, so now she fell victim to them again. In sunshine and +rain she faced the desert. Sunburn and sting of sleet were equally to be +endured. And that abomination, the hateful blinding sandstorm, did not +daunt her. But the weary hours of abnegation to this physical torture at +least held one consoling recompense as compared with her experience of last +year, and it was that there was no one interested to watch for her +weaknesses and failures and blunders. She could fight it out alone. + +Three weeks of this self-imposed strenuous training wore by before Carley +was free enough from weariness and pain to experience other sensations. Her +general health, evidently, had not been so good as when she had first +visited Arizona. She caught cold and suffered other ills attendant upon an +abrupt change of climate and condition. But doggedly she kept at her task. +She rode when she should have been in bed; she walked when she should have +ridden; she climbed when she should have kept to level ground. And finally +by degrees so gradual as not to be noticed except in the sum of them she +began to mend. + +Meanwhile the construction of her house went on with uninterrupted +rapidity. When the low, slanting, wide-eaved roof was completed Carley lost +further concern about rainstorms. Let them come. When the plumbing was all +in and Carley saw verification of Hoyle's assurance that it would mean a +gravity supply of water ample and continual, she lost her last concern as +to the practicability of the work. That, and the earning of her endurance, +seemed to bring closer a wonderful reward, still nameless and spiritual, +that had been unattainable, but now breathed to her on the fragrant desert +wind and in the brooding silence. + + +The time came when each afternoon's ride or climb called to Carley with +increasing delight. But the fact that she must soon reveal to Glenn her +presence and transformation did not seem to be all the cause. She could +ride without pain, walk without losing her breath, work without blistering +her hands; and in this there was compensation. The building of the house +that was to become a home, the development of water resources and land that +meant the making of a ranch--these did not altogether constitute the +anticipation of content. To be active, to accomplish things, to recall to +mind her knowledge of manual training, of domestic science, of designing +and painting, to learn to cook--these were indeed measures full of reward, +but they were not all. In her wondering, pondering meditation she arrived +at the point where she tried to assign to her love the growing fullness of +her life. This, too, splendid and all-pervading as it was, she had to +reject. Some exceedingly illusive and vital significance of life had +insidiously come to Carley. + +One afternoon, with the sky full of white and black rolling clouds and a +cold wind sweeping through the cedars, she halted to rest and escape the +chilling gale for a while. In a sunny place, under the lee of a gravel +bank, she sought refuge. It was warm here because of the reflected sunlight +and the absence of wind. The sand at the bottom of the bank held a heat +that felt good to her cold hands. All about her and over her swept the keen +wind, rustling the sage, seeping the sand, swishing the cedars, but she was +out of it, protected and insulated. The sky above showed blue between the +threatening clouds. There were no birds or living creatures in sight. +Certainly the place had little of color or beauty or grace, nor could she +see beyond a few rods. Lying there, without any particular reason that she +was conscious of, she suddenly felt shot through and through with +exhilaration. + +Another day, the warmest of the spring so far, she rode a Navajo mustang +she had recently bought from a passing trader; and at the farthest end of +her section, in rough wooded and ridged ground she had not explored, she +found a canyon with red walls and pine trees and gleaming streamlet and +glades of grass and jumbles of rock. It was a miniature canyon, to be +sure, only a quarter of a mile long, and as deep as the height of a lofty +pine, and so narrow that it seemed only the width of a lane, but it had all +the features of Oak Creek Canyon, and so sufficed for the exultant joy of +possession. She explored it. The willow brakes and oak thickets harbored +rabbits and birds. She saw the white flags of deer running away down the +open. Up at the head where the canyon boxed she flushed a flock of wild +turkeys. They ran like ostriches and flew like great brown chickens. In a +cavern Carley found the den of a bear, and in another place the bleached +bones of a steer. + +She lingered here in the shaded depths with a feeling as if she were indeed +lost to the world. These big brown and seamy-barked pines with their +spreading gnarled arms and webs of green needles belonged to her, as also +the tiny brook, the blue bells smiling out of the ferns, the single stalk +of mescal on a rocky ledge. + +Never had sun and earth, tree and rock, seemed a part of her being until +then. She would become a sun-worshiper and a lover of the earth. That +canyon had opened there to sky and light for millions of years; and +doubtless it had harbored sheep herders, Indians, cliff dwellers, +barbarians. She was a woman with white skin and a cultivated mind, but the +affinity for them existed in her. She felt it, and that an understanding of +it would be good for body and soul. + +Another day she found a little grove of jack pines growing on a flat mesa- +like bluff, the highest point on her land. The trees were small and close +together, mingling their green needles overhead and their discarded brown +ones on the ground. From here Carley could see afar to all points of the +compass--the slow green descent to the south and the climb to the +black-timbered distance; the ridged and canyoned country to the west, red +vents choked with green and rimmed with gray; to the north the grand +upflung mountain kingdom crowned with snow; and to the east the vastness of +illimitable space, the openness and wildness, the chased and beaten mosaic +of colored sands and rocks. + +Again and again she visited this lookout and came to love its isolation, +its command of wondrous prospects, its power of suggestion to her thoughts. +She became a creative being, in harmony with the live things around her. +The great life-dispensing sun poured its rays down upon her, as if to ripen +her; and the earth seemed warm, motherly, immense with its all-embracing +arms. She no longer plucked the bluebells to press to her face, but leaned +to them. Every blade of gramma grass, with its shining bronze-tufted seed +head, had significance for her. The scents of the desert began to have +meaning for her. She sensed within her the working of a great leveling +process through which supreme happiness would come. + +June! The rich, thick, amber light, like a transparent reflection from +some intense golden medium, seemed to float in the warm air. The sky became +an azure blue. In the still noontides, when the bees hummed drowsily and +the flies buzzed, vast creamy-white columnar clouds rolled up from the +horizon, like colossal ships with bulging sails. And summer with its rush +of growing things was at hand. + +Carley rode afar, seeking in strange places the secret that eluded her. +Only a few days now until she would ride down to Oak Creek Canyon! There +was a low, singing melody of wind in the cedars. The earth became too +beautiful in her magnified sight. A great truth was dawning upon her--that +the sacrifice of what she had held as necessary to the enjoyment of life-- +that the strain of conflict, the labor of hands, the forcing of weary body, +the enduring of pain, the contact with the earth--had served somehow to +rejuvenate her blood, quicken her pulse, intensify her sensorial faculties, +thrill her very soul, lead her into the realm of enchantment. + +One afternoon a dull, lead-black-colored cinder knoll tempted her to +explore its bare heights. She rode up until her mustang sank to his knees +and could climb no farther. From there she essayed the ascent on foot. It +took labor. But at last she gained the summit, burning, sweating, panting. + +The cinder hill was an extinct crater of a volcano. In the center of it lay +a deep bowl, wondrously symmetrical, and of a dark lusterless hue. Not a +blade of grass was there, nor a plant. Carley conceived a desire to go to +the bottom of this pit. She tried the cinders of the edge of the slope. +They had the same consistency as those of the ascent she had overcome. But +here there was a steeper incline. A tingling rush of daring seemed to drive +her over the rounded rim, and, once started down, it was as if she wore +seven-league boots. Fear left her. Only an exhilarating emotion consumed +her. If there were danger, it mattered not. She strode down with giant +steps, she plunged, she started avalanches to ride them until they stopped, +she leaped, and lastly she fell, to roll over the soft cinders to the pit. + +There she lay. It seemed a comfortable resting place. The pit was scarcely +six feet across. She gazed upward and was astounded. How steep was the +rounded slope on all sides! There were no sides; it was a circle. She +looked up at a round lake of deep translucent sky. Such depth of blue, such +exquisite rare color! Carley imagined she could gaze through it to the +infinite beyond. + +She closed her eyes and rested. Soon the laboring of heart and breath +calmed to normal, so that she could not hear them. Then she lay perfectly +motionless. With eyes shut she seemed still to look, and what she saw was +the sunlight through the blood and flesh of her eyelids. It was red, as +rare a hue as the blue of sky. So piercing did it grow that she had to +shade her eyes with her arm. + +Again the strange, rapt glow suffused her body. Never in all her life had +she been so absolutely alone. She might as well have been in her grave. She +might have been dead to all earthy things and reveling in spirit in the +glory of the physical that had escaped her in life. And she abandoned +herself to this influence. + +She loved these dry, dusty cinders; she loved the crater here hidden from +all save birds; she loved the desert, the earth--above all, the sun. She +was a product of the earth--a creation of the sun. She had been an +infinitesimal atom of inert something that had quickened to life under the +blazing magic of the sun. Soon her spirit would abandon her body and go on, +while her flesh and bone returned to dust. This frame of hers, that carried +the divine spark, belonged to the earth. She had only been ignorant, +mindless, feelingless, absorbed in the seeking of gain, blind to the truth. +She had to give. She had been created a woman; she belonged to nature; she +was nothing save a mother of the future. She had loved neither Glenn +Kilbourne nor life itself. False education, false standards, false +environment had developed her into a woman who imagined she must feed her +body on the milk and honey of indulgence. + +She was abased now--woman as animal, though saved and uplifted by her power +of immortality. Transcendental was her female power to link life with the +future. The power of the plant seed, the power of the earth, the heat of +the sun, the inscrutable creation-spirit of nature, almost the divinity of +God--these were all hers because she was a woman. That was the great +secret, aloof so long. That was what had been wrong with life--the woman +blind to her meaning, her power, her mastery. + +So she abandoned herself to the woman within her. She held out her arms to +the blue abyss of heaven as if to embrace the universe. She was Nature. She +kissed the dusty cinders and pressed her breast against the warm slope. Her +heart swelled to bursting with a glorious and unutterable happiness. + + +That afternoon as the sun was setting under a gold-white scroll of cloud +Carley got back to Deep Lake. + +A familiar lounging figure crossed her sight. It approached to where she +had dismounted. Charley, the sheep herder of Oak Creek! + +"Howdy!" he drawled, with his queer smile. "So it was you-all who had this +Deep Lake section?" + +"Yes. And how are you, Charley?" she replied, shaking hands with him. + +"Me? Aw, I'm tip-top. I'm shore glad you got this ranch. Reckon I'll hit +you for a job." + +"I'd give it to you. But aren't you working for the Hutters?" + +"Nope. Not any more. Me an' Stanton had a row with them." + +How droll and dry he was! His lean, olive-brown face, with its guileless +clear eyes and his lanky figure in blue jeans vividly recalled Oak Creek to +Carley. + +"Oh, I'm sorry," returned she haltingly, somehow checked in her warm rush +of thought. "Stanton? . . . Did he quit too?" + +"Yep. He sure did." + +"What was the trouble?" + +"Reckon because Flo made up to Kilbourne," replied Charley, with a grin. + +"Ah! I--I see," murmured Carley. A blankness seemed to wave over her. It +extended to the air without, to the sense of the golden sunset. It passed. +What should she ask--what out of a thousand sudden flashing queries? "Are-- +are the Hutters back?" + +"Sure. Been back several days. I reckoned Hoyle told you. Mebbe he didn't +know, though. For nobody's been to town." + +"How is--how are they all?" faltered Carley. There was a strange wall here +between her thought and her utterance. + +"Everybody satisfied, I reckon," replied Charley. + +"Flo--how is she?" burst out Carley. + +"Aw, Flo's loony over her husband," drawled Charley, his clear eyes on +Carley's. + +"Husband!" she gasped. + +"Sure. Flo's gone an' went an' done what I swore on." + +"Who?" whispered Carley, and the query was a terrible blade piercing her +heart. + +"Now who'd you reckon on?" asked Charley, with his slow grin. + +Carley's lips were mute. + +"Wal, it was your old beau thet you wouldn't have," returned Charley, as he +gathered up his long frame, evidently to leave. "Kilbourne! He an' Flo came +back from the Tonto all hitched up." + + +CHAPTER XII + +Vague sense of movement, of darkness, and of cold attended Carley's +consciousness for what seemed endless time. + +A fall over rocks and a severe thrust from a sharp branch brought an acute +appreciation of her position, if not of her mental state. Night had fallen. +The stars were out. She had stumbled over a low ledge. Evidently she had +wandered around, dazedly and aimlessly, until brought to her senses by +pain. But for a gleam of campfires through the cedars she would have been +lost. It did not matter. She was lost, anyhow. What was it that had +happened? + +Charley, the sheep herder! Then the thunderbolt of his words burst upon +her, and she collapsed to the cold stones. She lay quivering from head to +toe. She dug her fingers into the moss and lichen. "Oh, God, to think-- +after all--it happened!" she moaned. There had been a rending within her +breast, as of physical violence, from which she now suffered anguish. There +were a thousand stinging nerves. There was a mortal sickness of horror, of +insupportable heartbreaking loss. She could not endure it. She could not +live under it. + +She lay there until energy supplanted shock. Then she rose to rush into the +darkest shadows of the cedars, to grope here and there, hanging her head, +wringing her hands, beating her breast. "It can't be true," she cried. "Not +after my struggle--my victory--not now!" But there had been no victory. And +now it was too late. She was betrayed, ruined, lost. That wonderful love +had wrought transformation in her--and now havoc. Once she fell against the +branches of a thick cedar that upheld her. The fragrance which had been +sweet was now bitter. Life that had been bliss was now hateful! She could +not keep still for a single moment. + +Black night, cedars, brush, rocks, washes, seemed not to obstruct her. In a +frenzy she rushed on, tearing her dress, her hands, her hair. Violence of +some kind was imperative. All at once a pale gleaming open space, +shimmering under the stars, lay before her. It was water. Deep Lake! And +instantly a hideous terrible longing to destroy herself obsessed her. She +had no fear. She could have welcomed the cold, slimy depths that meant +oblivion. But could they really bring oblivion? A year ago she would have +believed so, and would no longer have endured such agony. She had changed. +A cursed strength had come to her, and it was this strength that now +augmented her torture. She flung wide her arms to the pitiless white stars +and looked up at them. "My hope, my faith, my love have failed me," she +whispered. "They have been a lie. I went through hell for them. And now +I've nothing to live for.... Oh, let me end it all!" + +If she prayed to the stars for mercy, it was denied her. Passionlessly they +blazed on. But she could not kill herself. In that hour death would have +been the only relief and peace left to her. Stricken by the cruelty of her +fate, she fell back against the stones and gave up to grief. Nothing was +left but fierce pain. The youth and vitality and intensity of her then +locked arms with anguish and torment and a cheated, unsatisfied love. +Strength of mind and body involuntarily resisted the ravages of this +catastrophe. Will power seemed nothing, but the flesh of her, that medium +of exquisite sensation, so full of life, so prone to joy, refused to +surrender. The part of her that felt fought terribly for its heritage. + +All night long Carley lay there. The crescent moon went down, the stars +moved on their course, the coyotes ceased to wail, the wind died away, the +lapping of the waves along the lake shore wore to gentle splash, the +whispering of the insects stopped as the cold of dawn approached. The +darkest hour fell--hour of silence, solitude, and melancholy, when the +desert lay tranced, cold, waiting, mournful without light of moon or stars +or sun. + +In the gray dawn Carley dragged her bruised and aching body back to her +tent, and, fastening the door, she threw off wet clothes and boots and fell +upon her bed. Slumber of exhaustion came to her. + +When she awoke the tent was light and the moving shadows of cedar boughs on +the white canvas told that the sun was straight above. Carley ached as +never before. A deep pang seemed invested in every bone. Her heart felt +swollen out of proportion to its space in her breast. Her breathing came +slow and it hurt. Her blood was sluggish. Suddenly she shut her eyes. She +loathed the light of day. What was it that had happened? + +Then the brutal truth flashed over her again, in aspect new, with all the +old bitterness. For an instant she experienced a suffocating sensation as +if the canvas had sagged under the burden of heavy air and was crushing her +breast and heart. Then wave after wave of emotion swept over her. The storm +winds of grief and passion were loosened again. And she writhed in her +misery. + +Some one knocked on her door. The Mexican woman called anxiously. Carley +awoke to the fact that her presence was not solitary on the physical earth, +even if her soul seemed stricken to eternal loneliness. Even in the desert +there was a world to consider. Vanity that had bled to death, pride that +had been crushed, availed her not here. But something else came to her +support. The lesson of the West had been to endure, not to shirk--to face +an issue, not to hide. Carley got up, bathed, dressed, brushed and arranged +her dishevelled hair. The face she saw in the mirror excited her amaze and +pity. Then she went out in answer to the call for dinner. But she could not +eat. The ordinary functions of life appeared to be deadened. + +The day happened to be Sunday, and therefore the workmen were absent. +Carley had the place to herself. How the half-completed house mocked her! +She could not bear to look at it. What use could she make of it now? Flo +Hutter had become the working comrade of Glenn Kilbourne, the mistress of +his cabin. She was his wife and she would be the mother of his children. + +That thought gave birth to the darkest hour of Carley Burch's life. She +became possessed as by a thousand devils. She became merely a female robbed +of her mate. Reason was not in her, nor charity, nor justice. All that was +abnormal in human nature seemed coalesced in her, dominant, passionate, +savage, terrible. She hated with an incredible and insane ferocity. In the +seclusion of her tent, crouched on her bed, silent, locked, motionless, she +yet was the embodiment of all terrible strife and storm in nature. Her +heart was a maelstrom and would have whirled and sucked down to hell all +the beings that were men. Her soul was a bottomless gulf, filled with the +gales and the fires of jealousy, superhuman to destroy. + +That fury consumed all her remaining strength, and from the relapse she +sank to sleep. + +Morning brought the inevitable reaction. However long her other struggles, +this monumental and final one would be brief. She realized that, yet was +unable to understand how it could be possible, unless shock or death or +mental aberration ended the fight. An eternity of emotion lay back between +this awakening of intelligence and the hour of her fall into the clutches +of primitive passion. + +That morning she faced herself in the mirror and asked, "Now--what do I owe +you?" It was not her voice that answered. It was beyond her. But it said: +"Go on! You are cut adrift. You are alone. You owe none but yourself! . . . +Go on! Not backward--not to the depths--but up--upward!" + +She shuddered at such a decree. How impossible for her! All animal, all +woman, all emotion, how could she live on the cold, pure heights? Yet she +owed something intangible and inscrutable to herself. Was it the thing that +woman lacked physically, yet contained hidden in her soul? An element of +eternal spirit to rise! Because of heartbreak and ruin and irreparable loss +must she fall? Was loss of love and husband and children only a test? The +present hour would be swallowed in the sum of life's trials. She could not +go back. She would not go down. There was wrenched from her tried and sore +heart an unalterable and unquenchable decision--to make her own soul prove +the evolution of woman. Vessel of blood and flesh she might be, doomed by +nature to the reproduction of her kind, but she had in her the supreme +spirit and power to carry on the progress of the ages--the climb of woman +out of the darkness. + +Carley went out to the workmen. The house should be completed and she would +live in it. Always there was the stretching and illimitable desert to look +at, and the grand heave upward of the mountains. Hoyle was full of zest for +the practical details of the building. He saw nothing of the havoc wrought +in her. Nor did the other workmen glance more than casually at her. In this +Carley lost something of a shirking fear that her loss and grief were +patent to all eyes. + +That afternoon she mounted the most spirited of the mustangs she had +purchased from the Indians. To govern him and stick on him required all her +energy. And she rode him hard and far, out across the desert, across mile +after mile of cedar forest, clear to the foothills. She rested there, +absorbed in gazing desertward, and upon turning back again, she ran him +over the level stretches. Wind and branch threshed her seemingly to +ribbons. Violence seemed good for her. A fall had no fear for her now. She +reached camp at dusk, hot as fire, breathless and strengthless. But she had +earned something. Such action required constant use of muscle and mind. If +need be she could drive both to the very furthermost limit. She could ride +and ride--until the future, like the immensity of the desert there, might +swallow her. She changed her clothes and rested a while. The call to supper +found her hungry. In this fact she discovered mockery of her grief. Love +was not the food of life. Exhausted nature's need of rest and sleep was no +respecter of a woman's emotion. + +Next day Carley rode northward, wildly and fearlessly, as if this conscious +activity was the initiative of an endless number of rides that were to save +her. As before the foothills called her, and she went on until she came to +a very high one. + +Carley dismounted from her panting horse, answering the familiar impulse to +attain heights by her own effort. + +"Am I only a weakling?" she asked herself. "Only a creature mined by the +fever of the soul! . . . Thrown from one emotion to another? Never the +same. Yearning, suffering, sacrificing, hoping, and changing--forever the +same! What is it that drives me? A great city with all its attractions has +failed to help me realize my life. So have friends failed. So has the +world. What can solitude and grandeur do? . . . All this obsession of +mine--all this strange feeling for simple elemental earthly things likewise +will fail me. Yet I am driven. They would call me a mad woman." + +It took Carley a full hour of slow body-bending labor to climb to the +summit of that hill. High, steep, and rugged, it resisted ascension. But at +last she surmounted it and sat alone on the heights, with naked eyes, and +an unconscious prayer on her lips. + +What was it that had happened? Could there be here a different answer from +that which always mocked her? + +She had been a girl, not accountable for loss of mother, for choice of home +and education. She had belonged to a class. She had grown to womanhood in +it. She had loved, and in loving had escaped the evil of her day, if not +its taint. She had lived only for herself. Conscience had awakened--but, +alas! too late. She had overthrown the sordid, self-seeking habit of life; +she had awakened to real womanhood; she had fought the insidious spell of +modernity and she had defeated it; she had learned the thrill of taking +root in new soil, the pain and joy of labor, the bliss of solitude, the +promise of home and love and motherhood. But she had gathered all these +marvelous things to her soul too late for happiness. + +"Now it is answered," she declared aloud. "That is what has happened? . . . +And all that is past. . . . Is there anything left? If so what?" + +She flung her query out to the winds of the desert. But the desert seemed +too gray, too vast, too remote, too aloof, too measureless. It was not +concerned with her little life. Then she turned to the mountain kingdom. + +It seemed overpoweringly near at hand. It loomed above her to pierce the +fleecy clouds. It was only a stupendous upheaval of earth-crust, grown over +at the base by leagues and leagues of pine forest, belted along the middle +by vast slanting zigzag slopes of aspen, rent and riven toward the heights +into canyon and gorge, bared above to cliffs and corners of craggy rock, +whitened at the sky-piercing peaks by snow. Its beauty and sublimity were +lost upon Carley now; she was concerned with its travail, its age, its +endurance, its strength. And she studied it with magnified sight. + +What incomprehensible subterranean force had swelled those immense slopes +and lifted the huge bulk aloft to the clouds? Cataclysm of nature--the +expanding or shrinking of the earth--vast volcanic action under the surface! +Whatever it had been, it had left its expression of the travail of the +universe. This mountain mass had been hot gas when flung from the parent +sun, and now it was solid granite. What had it endured in the making? What +indeed had been its dimensions before the millions of years of its +struggle? + +Eruption, earthquake, avalanche, the attrition of glacier, the erosion of +water, the cracking of frost, the weathering of rain and wind and snow-- +these it had eternally fought and resisted in vain, yet still it stood +magnificent, frowning, battle-scarred and undefeated. Its sky-piercing +peaks were as cries for mercy to the Infinite. This old mountain realized +its doom. It had to go, perhaps to make room for a newer and better +kingdom. But it endured because of the spirit of nature. The great notched +circular line of rock below and between the peaks, in the body of the +mountains, showed where in ages past the heart of living granite had blown +out, to let loose on all the near surrounding desert the streams of black +lava and the hills of black cinders. Despite its fringe of green it was +hoary with age. Every looming gray-faced wall, massive and sublime, seemed +a monument of its mastery over time. Every deep-cut canyon, showing the +skeleton ribs, the caverns and caves, its avalanche-carved slides, its +long, fan-shaped, spreading taluses, carried conviction to the spectator +that it was but a frail bit of rock, that its life was little and brief, +that upon it had been laid the merciless curse of nature. Change! Change +must unknit the very knots of the center of the earth. So its strength lay +in the sublimity of its defiance. It meant to endure to the last rolling +grain of sand. It was a dead mountain of rock, without spirit, yet it +taught a grand lesson to the seeing eye. + +Life was only a part, perhaps an infinitely small part of nature's plan. +Death and decay were just as important to her inscrutable design. The +universe had not been created for life, ease, pleasure, and happiness of a +man creature developed from lower organisms. If nature's secret was the +developing of a spirit through all time, Carley divined that she had it +within her. So the present meant little. + +"I have no right to be unhappy," concluded Carley. "I had no right to Glenn +Kilbourne. I failed him. In that I failed myself. Neither life nor nature +failed me--nor love. It is no longer a mystery. Unhappiness is only a +change. Happiness itself is only change. So what does it matter? The great +thing is to see life--to understand--to feel--to work--to fight--to endure. +It is not my fault I am here. But it is my fault if I leave this strange +old earth the poorer for my failure. . . . I will no longer be little. I +will find strength. I will endure. . . . I still have eyes, ears, nose, +taste. I can feel the sun, the wind, the nip of frost. Must I slink like a +craven because I've lost the love of one man? Must I hate Flo Hutter +because she will make Glenn happy? Never! ... All of this seems better so, +because through it I am changed. I might have lived on, a selfish clod!" + +Carley turned from the mountain kingdom and faced her future with the +profound and sad and far-seeing look that had come with her lesson. She +knew what to give. Sometime and somewhere there would be recompense. She +would hide her wound in the faith that time would heal it. And the ordeal +she set herself, to prove her sincerity and strength, was to ride down to +Oak Creek Canyon. + +Carley did not wait many days. Strange how the old vanity held her back +until something of the havoc in her face should be gone! + +One morning she set out early, riding her best horse, and she took a sheep +trail across country. The distance by road was much farther. The June +morning was cool, sparkling, fragrant. Mocking birds sang from the topmost +twig of cedars; doves cooed in the pines; sparrow hawks sailed low over the +open grassy patches. Desert primroses showed their rounded pink clusters in +sunny places, and here and there burned the carmine of Indian paint-brush. +Jack rabbits and cotton-tails bounded and scampered away through the sage. +The desert had life and color and movement this June day. And as always +there was the dry fragrance on the air. + +Her mustang had been inured to long and consistent travel over the desert. +Her weight was nothing to him and he kept to the swinging lope for miles. +As she approached Oak Creek Canyon, however, she drew him to a trot, and +then a walk. Sight of the deep red-walled and green-floored canyon was a +shock to her. + +The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan's sheep camp, at a point +several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze Ruff. She +remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep jump-off +where the road led down off the rim into the canyon. Here she dismounted +and walked. From the foot of this descent she knew every rod of the way +would be familiar to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to turn away and fly +from them. But she kept on and mounted again at level ground. + +The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears--sweet, sad, memorable, +strangely powerful to hurt. Yet the sound seemed of long ago. Down here +summer had advanced. Rich thick foliage overspread the winding road of +sand. Then out of the shade she passed into the sunnier regions of isolated +pines. Along here she had raced Calico with Glenn's bay; and here she had +caught him, and there was the place she had fallen. She halted a moment +under the pine tree where Glenn had held her in his arms. Tears dimmed her +eyes. If only she had known then the truth, the reality! But regrets were +useless. + +By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees, and its pipe-organ +conformation was familiar to Carley. She left the road and turned to go +down to the creek. Sycamores and maples and great bowlders, and mossy +ledges overhanging the water, and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot +where she and Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day. Her mustang +splashed into the clear water and halted to drink. Beyond, through the +trees, Carley saw the sunny red-earthed clearing that was Glenn's farm. She +looked, and fought herself, and bit her quivering lip until she tasted +blood. Then she rode out into the open. + +The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and +plowed. But she gazed no farther. She did not want to see the spot where +she had given Glenn his ring and had parted from him. She rode on. If she +could pass West Fork she believed her courage would rise to the completion +of this ordeal. Places were what she feared. Places that she had loved +while blindly believing she hated! There the narrow gap of green and blue +split the looming red wall. She was looking into West Fork. Up there stood +the cabin. How fierce a pang rent her breast! She faltered at the crossing +of the branch stream, and almost surrendered. The water murmured, the +leaves rustled, the bees hummed, the birds sang--all with some sad +sweetness that seemed of the past. + +Then the trail leading up West Fork was like a barrier. She saw horse +tracks in it. Next she descried boot tracks the shape of which was so +well-remembered that it shook her heart. There were fresh tracks in the +sand, pointing in the direction of the Lodge. Ah! that was where Glenn +lived now. Carley strained at her will to keep it fighting her memory. The +glory and the dream were gone! + +A touch of spur urged her mustang into a gallop. The splashing ford of the +creek--the still, eddying pool beyond--the green orchards--the white lacy +waterfall--and Lolomi Lodge! + +Nothing had altered. But Carley seemed returning after many years. Slowly +she dismounted--slowly she climbed the porch steps. Was there no one at +home? Yet the vacant doorway, the silence--something attested to the +knowledge of Carley's presence. Then suddenly Mrs. Hutter fluttered out +with Flo behind her. + +"You dear girl--I'm so glad!" cried Mrs. Hutter, her voice trembling. + +"I'm glad to see you, too," said Carley, bending to receive Mrs. Hutter's +embrace. Carley saw dim eyes--the stress of agitation, but no surprise. + +"Oh, Carley!" burst out the Western girl, with voice rich and full, yet +tremulous. + +"Flo, I've come to wish you happiness," replied Carley, very low. + +Was it the same Flo? This seemed more of a woman--strange now--white and +strained--beautiful, eager, questioning. A cry of gladness burst from her. +Carley felt herself enveloped in strong close clasp--and then a warm, quick +kiss of joy, It shocked her, yet somehow thrilled. Sure was the welcome +here. Sure was the strained situation, also, but the voice rang too glad a +note for Carley. It touched her deeply, yet she could not understand. She +had not measured the depth of Western friendship. + +"Have you--seen Glenn?" queried Flo, breathlessly. + +"Oh no, indeed not," replied Carley, slowly gaining composure. The nervous +agitation of these women had stilled her own. "I just rode up the trail. +Where is he?" + +"He was here--a moment ago," panted Flo. "Oh, Carley, we sure are locoed. +. . . Why, we only heard an hour ago--that you were at Deep Lake. . . . +Charley rode in. He told us. . . . I thought my heart would break. Poor +Glenn! When he heard it. . . . But never mind me. Jump your horse and run +to West Fork!" + +The spirit of her was like the strength of her arms as she hurried Carley +across the porch and shoved her down the steps. + +"Climb on and run, Carley," cried Flo. "If you only knew how glad he'll be +that you came!" + +Carley leaped into the saddle and wheeled the mustang. But she had no +answer for the girl's singular, almost wild exultance. Then like a shot the +spirited mustang was off down the lane. Carley wondered with swelling +heart. Was her coming such a wondrous surprise--so unexpected and big in +generosity--something that would make Kilbourne as glad as it had seemed to +make Flo? Carley thrilled to this assurance. + +Down the lane she flew. The red walls blurred and the sweet wind whipped +her face. At the trail she swerved the mustang, but did not check his gait. +Under the great pines he sped and round the bulging wall. At the rocky +incline leading to the creek she pulled the fiery animal to a trot. How low +and clear the water! As Carley forded it fresh cool drops splashed into her +face. Again she spurred her mount and again trees and walls rushed by. Up +and down the yellow bits of trail--on over the brown mats of pine needles +--until there in the sunlight shone the little gray log cabin with a tall +form standing in the door. One instant the canyon tilted on end for Carley +and she was riding into the blue sky. Then some magic of soul sustained +her, so that she saw clearly. Reaching the cabin she reined in her mustang. + +"Hello, Glenn! Look who's here!" she cried, not wholly failing of gayety. + +He threw up his sombrero. + +"Whoopee!" he yelled, in stentorian voice that rolled across the canyon and +bellowed in hollow echo and then clapped from wall to wall. The unexpected +Western yell, so strange from Glenn, disconcerted Carley. Had he only +answered her spirit of greeting? Had hers rung false? + +But he was coming to her. She had seen the bronze of his face turn to +white. How gaunt and worn he looked. Older he appeared, with deeper lines +and whiter hair. His jaw quivered. + +"Carley Burch, so it was you?" he queried, hoarsely. + +"Glenn, I reckon it was," she replied. "I bought your Deep Lake ranch site. +I came back too late . . . . But it is never too late for some things. . . . +I've come to wish you and Flo all the happiness in the world--and to say +we must be friends." + +The way he looked at her made her tremble. He strode up beside the mustang, +and he was so tall that his shoulder came abreast of her. He placed a big +warm hand on hers, as it rested, ungloved, on the pommel of the saddle. + +"Have you seen Flo?" he asked. + +"I just left her. It was funny--the way she rushed me off after you. As if +there weren't two--" + +Was it Glenn's eyes or the movement of his hand that checked her utterance? +His gaze pierced her soul. His hand slid along her arm to her waist--around +it. Her heart seemed to burst. + +"Kick your feet out of the stirrups," he ordered. + +Instinctively she obeyed. Then with a strong pull he hauled her half out of +the saddle, pellmell into his arms. Carley had no resistance. She sank +limp, in an agony of amaze. Was this a dream? Swift and hard his lips met +hers--and again--and again. . . . + +"Oh, my God!--Glenn, are--you--mad?" she whispered, almost swooning. + +"Sure--I reckon I am," he replied, huskily, and pulled her all the way out +of the saddle. + +Carley would have fallen but for his support. She could not think. She was +all instinct. Only the amaze--the sudden horror--drifted--faded as before +fires of her heart! + +"Kiss me!" he commanded. + +She would have kissed him if death were the penalty. How his face blurred +in her dimmed sight! Was that a strange smile? Then he held her back from +him. + +"Carley--you came to wish Flo and me happiness?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes--yes. . . . Pity me, Glenn--let me go. I meant well. . . . I +should--never have come." + +"Do you love me?" he went on, with passionate, shaking clasp. + +"God help me--I do--I do! . . . And now it will kill me!" + +"What did that damned fool Charley tell you?" + +The strange content of his query, the trenchant force of it, brought her +upright, with sight suddenly cleared. Was this giant the tragic Glenn who +had strode to her from the cabin door? + +"Charley told me--you and Flo--were married," she whispered. + +"You didn't believe him!" returned Glenn. + +She could no longer speak. She could only see her lover, as if +transfigured, limned dark against the looming red wall. + +"That was one of Charley's queer jokes. I told you to beware of him. Flo is +married, yes--and very happy. . . . I'm unutterably happy, too--but I'm not +married. Lee Stanton was the lucky bridegroom. . . . Carley, the moment I +saw you I knew you had come back to me." + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext The Call of the Canyon, by Zane Grey + diff --git a/old/tcotc10.zip b/old/tcotc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..373ca27 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcotc10.zip |
