Ranchers -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction; Western stories
The aspect of the scrub changed. It became dotted with taller trees.
The paler foliage of spruce reared itself, and, here and there,
isolated clumps of towering pines threw shadows across her path. Then
gaps broke up the continuity, but, even so, the view beyond to her left
was cut off by remoter growths. Once or twice she hazarded her way
into them in her search for information, but always she returned to the
broad track of the footprints of driven cattle.
The pathway rose at a steep incline. It bent away to the right, and,
in the distance, it seemed that it must converge upon the sharp cut
edge of the great pine woods she had so recently left. With this
conclusion came another. The track must terminate abruptly or it must
pass back into the great pine bluff.
The end, however, was neither of these things. And it was far nearer
than she had suspected. The path twisted back into the huge reverse of
an S, and finished abruptly at the sharp edge of a wide deep valley.
It came upon her almost with a shock. The tracks had abruptly swung
westward. She rounded the bend, and, in a moment, found herself gazing
out over a wide valley from a dizzy height.
Her first feeling was that the drop was sheer, precipitate. Then
realization superseded, and she flung herself full length upon the
ground and pressed her way into the shelter of an adjacent bush. The
path had not ended. It passed over the brink and continued its way
zigzagging down the terrific slope to the valley below. It was this,
and the sight of a distant spiral of smoke rising from below, which had
flung her into the shelter of the friendly bush. Her risk had only
been momentary, but even in that moment she had been silhouetted in
full view of any chance gaze below.
She drew herself toward the edge of the drop. Just where she had flung
herself it was clean and sheer, and the bush overhung. Thus she was
left with a full view of the depths below. Her dark eyes dwelt upon
the zigzagging path. She followed its downward course to the green
plain. She tracked it across to the far side of the valley. Then she
drew a sharp breath, and her eyes widened.
The telltale smoke rose from the heart of a woodland bluff, and near by
a large herd of cattle was grazing, watched over by three mounted men
whose horses were moving slowly over the bright green carpet of grass.
She lay quite still, regardless of all but those moving figures, and
the dark green bluff. She was watching and waiting for she knew not
what. Her heart was thumping in her bosom, and her breath came
rapidly. There was no question in her mind. In a moment her whole
life seemed to have changed. The day had dawned to a contemplation of
the monotonous round of drudging routine, only to close with a thrill
such as she had never dreamed could be hers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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