A Man: His Mark. A Romance: Second Edition — John Shaqi
A Man: His Mark. A Romance: Second EditionMorrow, W. C.
General
A Man: His Mark. A Romance: Second Edition
Morrow, W. C.
Accident victims -- Fiction; American fiction; California -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Fiction
And the man with the curiously-twisted face peering out from the
tree-branches, what had been the aim of his life, that it should find
such an end? After all, was there any taint of unmanliness in that end?
Doubtless even now he was covered deep under snow. If he should be left
there, the great gray wolves might come down and find him. They were
big and powerful, and men who had seen them hungry told fearful tales
of their daring and ferocity. If the snow should drive them down, they
would find the dead horses under the tree; and after that there would be
but one house here where they could find human beings.
There need be no dread of them; but suppose that some night there should
come a scratching at the door of the hut,--that would mean the gaunt
shewolf, who bore away children to the wolf-pack.
She would beg for a rind of bacon to eat, and a corner on the hearth
to sleep. She would bear ugly wounds from her struggles with men and
beasts, and these would have to be dressed, and rents in her hide
stitched; and if there were broken bones, they must be set. Would she be
patient under the torture, or would she snap and howl after the manner
of wolves?...
Wilder was startled to full consciousness by a moan. He bent over his
patient and looked into her open eyes. She gazed up at him vacantly. He
took her hand; it was hot. He placed a hand upon her forehead; it was
burning. A haggard look of pain and distress sat upon her face.
An eager appeal was in her glance, and her lips moved feebly. He bent
his ear to them. She was faintly whispering--
“Water, water!”
His heart bounding with gladness, he brought cold water. With difficulty
he restrained her eagerness, lest she discover that she was crippled
and bound. He covered her eyes with a napkin, for he observed that her
glance was becoming strained and curious. She submitted quietly, while
he gave her the water with a spoon. After that she sighed in weariness
and content, but her deep inspiration was checked by pain. Her burning
skin and an uneasiness throughout her entire frame warned him that she
had a fever. He gave her a remedy for that. It was not until daylight
had come that, after watching her for hours as she lay awake and
seemingly halfconscious, he observed her finally drift into sound
slumber.
The young man rose and found himself weak and dizzy; but after he had
prepared and eaten a simple breakfast he felt stronger. Seemingly by a
miracle, he had gone through his task in safety thus far. He must now
leave his patient for a while, to discharge a grim duty that awaited
him in the road below,--a duty from which his every sensibility recoiled
with unspeakable repugnance. Lest an untoward accident should happen in
his absence, he gave his patient a stupefying drug.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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