CHAPTER II
INTO THE MOUNTAINS
Beth stood perfectly still beside the road, watching the auto round thehill where it presently disappeared from view. The station ownerpicked up a sliver of wood and began to whittle industriously. Thehorseman remained with his bridle reins in hand, amusedly looking athis captive. The maid sat down upon the suitcase, dropped her skirt ina modest little manner, and cast her gaze upon the ground.
Beth was the first to speak.
"Well, Elsa, I hope you are comfortable."
"Yes, Miss, thank you," said the maid.
Thereupon Miss Kent turned to the horseman and laughed. Someway shecould not feel alarmed, in the presence of this man of the hills, inwhose eyes merry devils were dancing.
"Isn't this absurd?" she said.
"Searle must have been born absurd," replied the horseman, once moreremoving his hat. He waved it towards the station host imperiously."Dave, present me to the lady." And as Dave floundered, hopelesslypuzzled, he added: "Give me a knock-down, man, don't you savvy?"
Dave dropped his sliver, snatched off his hat, and rid himself of aquid of something strong--all in one convulsion of activity.
"'Scuse me," he apologized, approaching nearer. "Miss--Miss--MissLaffin' Water, this is Van. His whole name's----"
"That's enough," Van interrupted. "I'm gratified to meet you,Senorita, I'm sure."
He extended his hand. Beth knew not what to do, wherefore she gave himher own.
"How do you do, Mr. Van?" she answered tremulously, and she drew herfingers back again at once. "If you don't mind," she added, "we reallymust continue on to Goldite as soon as possible." A fleeting look ofdoubt and alarm had swept all the mirth from her eyes. After all, evenwith this "introduction" what were these men's intentions? It was agrave affair to be halted thus--to be practically abducted--to be leftwith no protection, in the hands of roadside strangers, one, at least,of whom was certainly inclined to be lawless and outrageously bold.
The horseman regarded her seriously, as if with a certain divination ofher worry. Someway, from the look in his eyes her confidence returned,she knew not why.
"Do you ride?" he asked her, "--you and your maid?"
"Why, yes--that is----" she addressed the maid on the suitcase. "Elsa,can you ride--on a horse?"
Elsa said: "Yes, Miss, if it is part of my duty."
Beth's composure increased. After all, it was a glorious day, thehorseman was handsome, and she had wished for a little adventure--butnot too much!
"What does it mean?" she asked of Van more boldly. "We were perfectlycomfortable, riding in the car. If you really intend to permit us togo, why couldn't we have gone on as we were?"
Dave started to answer.
"You see, Miss----"
Van cut in abruptly.
"Never mind, Dave; this isn't your pie." To Beth he added: "If you'vebrought any particularly appropriate garments for riding, suppose youretire for preparations. Dave will tote the bags inside the house."
"You bet I will!" said Dave, who, as Elsa rose, took suitcase and allin one load.
Beth hesitated. The horseman had started already for the stable at therear. How superbly straight was his figure! What a confident,impudent grace beset him as he moved! How could it be possible forsuch a man to be other than a gentleman--no matter where he was found?Some strange little thrill of excitement and love of adventure stirredin the girl's full veins. Resistance was useless. Come what might,she was helpless in the hands of this man--and he seemed a person to betrusted.
"Come, Elsa," she said, bravely deciding to face whatsoever mightarise. "You may wear the second of my skirts."
Fifteen minutes later, therefore, she and her maid emerged from theshack attired in brown cloth, and kahki, respectively, her own skirtlong and graceful, while Elsa's was shorter and divided. Aside orcross-saddle Beth was equally at home upon a horse--or always had been,in the parks.
Van and Dave now returned, leading two extra ponies from the stable.One was a bay, accoutered with a man's deep Mexican saddle, whereon wassecured a coiled lasso; the other was a wiry little roan mare, with asomewhat decrepit but otherwise sound side-saddle tightly cinched uponher back.
"Our stable chamberlain has slipped a cog on the outfits for ladiesrecently," said Van apologetically, "but I reckon these will have todo."
Beth looked the two mounts over uncritically. They seemed to beequally matched, as to general characteristics, since neither appearedeither strong or plump. She said:
"Shall we ride very far?"
"No, just a pleasant little jog," replied the horseman. "They call itforty miles to Goldite by the ridge, but it isn't an inch over thirty."
Thirty miles!--over the mountains!--with an unknown man and her maid!Beth suppressed a gasp of despair and astonishment, not to mentiontrepidation, by making an effort that verged upon the heroic.
"But we--we can never arrive in Goldite tonight!" she said. "We can'texpect to, can we?"
"It takes more than that to kill these bronchos," Van cheerfullyassured her. "I can only guarantee that the horses will make it--bysunset."
Beth flushed. He evidently entertained a very poor notion of herhorsemanship. Her pride was aroused. She would show him something--atleast that no horse could make this journey without her!
"Thank you," she said, and advancing to the roan she addressed herselfto Dave. "Will you please help me up. Mr. Van may assist my maid."
Dave grinned and performed his offices as best he could, which wasstrongly, if not with grace. Van shook a threatening fist, behind hiscaptive's back. He had meant to take this honor to himself.
Fairly tossing the greatly delighted little Elsa to the seat on thebay, he mounted his own sturdy animal and immediately started for thecanyon below, leaving Beth and her maid to trail behind.
The girl's heart all but failed her. Whither were they going?--andtowards what Fate? What could be the outcome of a journey like this,undertaken so blindly, with no chance for resistance? The horseman hadstubbornly refused a reply to her question; he was calmly riding offbefore them now with the utmost indifference to her comfort. There wasnothing to do but to follow, and resign herself to--the Lord alone knewwhat. The little roan mare, indeed, required no urging; she wastugging at the bit to be off. With one last look of helplessness atthe station and Dave--who someway bore the hint of a fatherly air uponhim--she charged her nerves with all possible resolution and rode onafter her leader.
Elsa permitted her broncho to trudge at the tail of the column. Shedared to cast one shy, disconcerting little glance at Dave--and hesuddenly felt he would burst into flame and consume himself utterly toashes.
The great canyon yawned prodigiously where its rock gates stood open togrant the party admission to the sanctum of the hills. Sheer granitewalls, austere and frowning, rose in sculptured immensity on eitherside, but the trail under foot was scored between some scatteredwild-peach shrubs, interspersed with occasional bright-green clumps ofmanzanita. The air was redolent of warmth and fragrance that mightwith fitness have advertised the presence in the hills of someglorified goddess of love--some lofty, invisible goddess, guarded byher mountain snows, yet still too languorous and voluptuous to passwithout at least trailing on the summery air the breath that exhaledfrom her being. It was all a delight, despite vague alarms, and thepromise ahead was inviting.
Van continued straight onward, with never so much as a turn of hishead, to the horses in the rear. He seemed to have quite forgotten thetwo half-frightened women in his wake. Beth had ample opportunity forobserving again the look of strength and grace upon him. However, shefound her attention very much divided between tumultuous joyance in themountain grandeur, bathed in the marvelously life-exciting air, andconcern for the outcome of the day. If a faint suggestion of pique atthe manner in which the horseman ignored her presence creptsubconsciously into all her meditations, she did not confess it toherself.
Elsa's horr
id little habit of accepting anything and everything withthe most irresponsible complacency rendered the situation aggravating.It was so utterly impossible to discuss with such a being even such ofthe morning's developments as the relationship of mistress and maidmight otherwise have permitted.
A mile beyond the mouth of the canyon the slight ascent was ended, thechasm widened, rough slopes succeeded the granite walls, and a charminglittle valley, emerald green and dotted with groups of quaking aspentrees, stretched far towards the wooded mountain barriers, loominghugely ahead. It was like a dainty lake of grass, abundantly suppliedwith little islands.
The sheer enchantment of it, bathed as it was in sun-gold, andsheltered by prodigious, snow-capped summits, so intensely whiteagainst the intensity of azure, aroused some mad new ecstacy in allBeth's being. She could almost have done something wild--she knew notwhat; and all the alarm subsided from her thoughts. As if in answer toher tumult of joy, Van spurred his pinto to a gallop. Instantlyresponding to her lift of the reins, Beth's roan went romping easilyforward. The bay at the rear, with Elsa, followed rhythmically,pounding out a measure on the turf.
A comparatively short session of this more rapid locomotion sufficedfor the transit of the cove--that is, of the wide-open portion. Thetrail then dived out of sight in a copse where pine trees wereneighbors of the aspens. Van disappeared, though hardly more thanfifty feet ahead. Through low-hanging boughs, that she needs must pushaside, Beth followed blindly, now decidedly piqued by the whollyungallant indifference to her fate of the horseman leading the way.
She caught but a glimpse of him, now and again, in the density of thegrowth. How strange it was to be following thus, meekly, helplessly,perforce with some sort of confidence, in the charge of this unknownmountain man, to--whatsoever he might elect! The utterly absurd partof it all was that it was pleasant!
At length they emerged from the shady halls of trees, to findthemselves confronted by the wall of mountains. Already Van was ridingup the slope, where larger pines, tall thickets of green chincopin, andledges of rock compelled the trail to many devious windings. Once morethe horseman was whistling his Toreador refrain. He did not look backat his charges. That he was watching them both, from the tail of hiseye, was a fact that Beth felt--and resented.
The steepness of the trail increased. At times the meager pathwaydisappeared entirely. It lay upon rocks that gave no sign of the hoofsthat had previously rung metallic clinks upon the granite. How the manin the lead discerned it here was a matter Beth could not comprehend.Some half-confessed meed of admiration, already astir in her nature forthe horseman and his way, increased as he breasted the ascent. Howthoroughly at home--how much a part of it all he appeared, as he rodeupon his pony!
Two hours of steady climbing, with her mare oblique beneath her weight,and Beth felt an awe in her being. It was wonderful; it was almostterrible, the fathomless silence, the altitudes, this heretoforeunexperienced intimacy with the mountains' very nakedness! It wasstrange altogether, and impressive, the vast unfolding of the worldbelow, the frequency with which the pathway skirted some darkprecipice--and the apparent unconcern of the man ahead, now soabsolutely master. And still that soul-inviting exhilaration of theair aroused those ecstacies within her spirit that she had not knownwere there.
They were nearing the summit of the pass. It was still a thousand feetbelow the snow. To the left a mighty chasm trenched the adamant, itsbottom lowered away to depths of mysterious blue. Its side, abovewhich the three stout ponies picked their way, was a jagged set ofterraces, over the brink of which the descents were perpendicular.
Rising as if to bar the way, the crowning terrace apparently ended thetrail against all further advance. Here Van finally halted,dismounted, and waited for the advent of his charges.
Beth rode up uncertainly, her brown eyes closely scrutinizing his face.It appeared as if they had come to the end of everything--the place forleaping off into downward space.
"Let me see if the cinches are tight," said the horseman quietly, andhe looked to the girth of her saddle.
It was found to be in a satisfactory condition. The girth on the bayhe tightened, carelessly pushing Elsa's foot and the stirrup aside forthe purpose.
His own horse now showed unmistakable signs of weariness. He hadtraveled some twenty odd miles to arrive at Dave's before undertakingthis present bit of hardship. Since then Van had pushed him to thelimit of his strength and speed, in the effort to reach Goldite withthe smallest possible delay.
If a sober expression of sympathy came for a second in the horseman'ssteady eyes, as he glanced where his pony was standing, it quickly gaveway to something more inscrutable as he looked up at Beth, in advancingonce more to the fore.
"Both of you give them the reins," he instructed quietly. "Just dropthem down. Let the bronchos pick the trail." He paused, then added,as if on second thought, "Shut your eyes if you find you're gettingdizzy--don't look down."
Beth turned slightly pale, in anticipation of some ordeal, undoubtedlyimminent, but the light in her eyes was one of splendid courage. Shemight feel they were all at the gate of something awful, but her naturerose to meet it. She said nothing; she simply obeyed directions andlooked with new emotions on the somewhat drooping mare to whom her ownsafety was entrusted.
Van was once more in his saddle. He started, and the ponies behindresumed their faithful plodding at his heels.
A few rods ahead they encountered a change, and Beth could scarcelyrepress a gasp of surprise and apprehension. The trail was laid uponthe merest granite shelf, above that terrible chasm. She wasterrified, frankly. The man and pony in the lead were cut withstartling sharpness against the gray of the rock--the calico coloring,the muscular intensity, the bending of the man to every motion--as theybalanced with terrifying slenderness above the pit of death.
For a moment the girl thought nothing of herself and of how she toomust pass that awful brink, for all her concern was focused on the man.Then she realized what she must do--was doing--as her roan marefollowed on. She was almost upon it herself!
Her hand flew down to the reins to halt the pony, involuntarily. Awild thought of turning and fleeing away from this shelf of destructionlaunched itself upon her mind. It was folly--a thing impossible.There was nothing to do but go on. Shutting her eyes and holding herbreath she felt the mare beneath her tremulously moving forward,smelling out the places of security whereon to rest her weight.
Elsa, sublimely unresponsive, alike to the grandeur or the danger ofthe place, rode as placidly here as in the valley.
They passed the first of the shelf-like brinks, traversed a safercontour of the wall, and were presently isolated upon the second bridgeof granite, which was also the last, much longer than the first, butperhaps not so narrow or winding.
Van had perspired in nervous tension, as the two women rode above thechasm. Men had gone down here to oblivion. He was easier now, morecareless of himself and horse, less alert for a looseness in thegranite mass, as he turned in his saddle to look backward.
Suddenly, with a horrible sensation in his vitals, he felt his ponycrumpling beneath him, even as he heard Beth sound a cry.
A second later he was going, helplessly, with the air-rush in his earsand the pony's quiver shivering up his spine. All bottomless spaceseemed to open where they dropped. He kicked loose the stirrups, evenas the pony struck upon the first narrow terrace, ten feet down, andfelt the helpless animal turned hoofs and belly upward by the blow.
He had thrust himself free--apart from the horse--but could not clingto the rotten ledge for more than half a second. Then down once morehe was falling, as before, only a heart-beat later than the pinto.
Out of the lip of the next shelf below the pony's weight tore a jaggedfragment. The animal's neck was broken, and he and the stone-massplunged on downward together.
Van half way fell through a stubborn bush--that clung with themysterious persistency of life to a handful of soil in a crevice--and
his strong hands closed upon its branches.
He was halted with a jolt. The pony hurtled loosely, grotesquely downthe abyss, bounding from impacts with the terraces, and was presentlylost to mortal sight in the dust and debris he carried below for ashroud. Sounds of his striking--dull, leaden sounds, tremendous in theall-pervading silence--came clearly up to the top. Then Van found hisfeet could be rested on the shelf, and he let himself relax to ease hisarms.