XI
THE DEATH-GRAPPLE
There was something so sinister in the rider's disregard of stone andtree and pace, something so menacing in the forward thrust of his body,that Berrie was able to divine his wrath, and was smitten intoirresolution--all her hardy, boyish self-reliance swallowed up in theweakness of the woman. She forgot the pistol at her belt, and awaited theassault with rigid pose.
As Belden neared them Norcross also perceived that the rider's face wasdistorted with passion, and that his glance was not directed upon Berrie,but upon himself, and he braced himself for the attack.
Leaving his saddle with one flying leap, which the cowboy practises atplay, Belden hurled himself upon his rival with the fury of a panther.
The slender youth went down before the big rancher as though struck by acatapult; and the force of his fall against the stony earth stunned himso that he lay beneath his enemy as helpless as a child.
THE SLENDER YOUTH WENT DOWN BEFORE THE BIG RANCHERAS THOUGH STRUCK BY A CATAPULT]
Belden snarled between his teeth: "I told you I'd kill you, and I will."
But this was not to be. Berea suddenly recovered her native force. With acry of pain, of anger, she flung herself on the maddened man's back. Herhands encircled his neck like a collar of bronze. Hardened by incessantuse of the cinch and the rope, her fingers sank into the sinews of hisgreat throat, shutting off both blood and breath.
"Let go!" she commanded, with deadly intensity. "Let go, or I'll chokethe life out of you! Let go, I say!"
He raised a hand to beat her off, but she was too strong, too desperateto be driven away. She was as blind to pain as a mother eagle, and bentabove him so closely that he could not bring the full weight of his fistto bear. With one determined hand still clutching his throat, she ran thefingers of her other hand into his hair and twisted his head upward witha power which he could not resist. And so, looking into his upturned,ferocious eyes, she repeated with remorseless fury: "_Let go_, I say!"
His swollen face grew rigid, his mouth gaped, his tongue protruded, andat last, releasing his hold on his victim, he rose, flinging Berrie offwith a final desperate effort. "I'll kill you, too!" he gasped.
Up to this moment the girl had felt no fear of herself; but now sheresorted to other weapons. Snatching her pistol from its holster, sheleveled it at his forehead. "Stop!" she said; and something in her voicefroze him into calm. He was not a fiend; he was not a deliberateassassin; he was only a jealous, despairing, insane lover, and as helooked into the face he knew so well, and realized that nothing but hateand deadly resolution lit the eyes he had so often kissed, his heart gaveway, and, dropping his head, he said: "Kill me if you want to. I'venothing left to live for."
There was something unreal, appalling in this sudden reversion toweakness, and Berrie could not credit his remorse. "Give me your gun,"she said.
He surrendered it to her and she threw it aside; then turned to Wayland,who was lying white and still with face upturned to the sky. With a moanof anguish she bent above him and called upon his name. He did not stir,and when she lifted his head to her lap his hair, streaming with blood,stained her dress. She kissed him and called again to him, then turnedwith accusing frenzy to Belden: "You've killed him! Do you hear? You'vekilled him!"
The agony, the fury of hate in her voice reached the heart of theconquered man. He raised his head and stared at her with mingled fear andremorse. And so across that limp body these two souls, so lately lovers,looked into each other's eyes as though nothing but words of hate andloathing had ever passed between them. The girl saw in him only a savage,vengeful, bloodthirsty beast; the man confronted in her an accusingangel.
"I didn't mean to kill him," he muttered.
"Yes, you did! You meant it. You crushed his life out with your bighands--and now I'm going to kill you for it!"
A fierce calm had come upon her. Some far-off ancestral deep of passioncalled for blood revenge. She lifted the weapon with steady hand andpointed it at his heart.
His fear passed as his wrath had passed. His head drooped, his glancewavered. "Shoot!" he commanded, sullenly. "I'd sooner die thanlive--now."
His words, his tone, brought back to her a vision of the man he hadseemed when she first met and admired him. Her hand fell, the woman inher reasserted itself. A wave of weakness, of indecision, of passionategrief overwhelmed her. "Oh, Cliff!" she moaned. "Why did you do it? Hewas so gentle and sweet."
He did not answer. His glance wandered to his horse, serenely croppingthe grass in utter disregard of this tumultuous human drama; but thewind, less insensate than the brute, swept through the grove of dwarfed,distorted pines with a desolate, sympathetic moan which filled the man'sheart with a new and exalted sorrow. "You're right," he said. "I wascrazy. I deserve killing."
But Berrie was now too deep in her own desolation to care what he said ordid. She kissed the cold lips of the still youth, murmuring passionately:"I don't care to live without you--I shall go with you!"
Belden's hand was on her wrist before she could raise her weapon. "Don't,for God's sake, don't do that! He may not be dead."
She responded but dully to the suggestion. "No, no. He's gone. His breathis gone."
"Maybe not. Let me see."
Again she bent to the quiet face on which the sunlight fell with mockingsplendor. It seemed all a dream till she felt once more the stain of hisblood upon her hands. It was all so incredibly sudden. Only just now hewas exulting over the warmth and beauty of the day--and now--
How beautiful he was. He seemed asleep. The conies crying from theirrunways suddenly took on poignant pathos. They appeared to be grievingwith her; but the eagles spoke of revenge.
A sharp cry, a note of joy sprang from her lips. "He _is_ alive! I sawhis eyelids quiver--quick! Bring some water."
The man leaped to his feet, and, running down to the pool, filled hissombrero with icy water. He was as eager now to save his rival as he hadbeen mad to destroy him. "Let me help," he pleaded. But she would notpermit him to touch the body.
Again, while splashing the water upon his face, the girl called upon herlove to return. "He hears me!" she exulted to her enemy. "He is breathingnow. He is opening his eyes."
The wounded man did, indeed, open his eyes, but his look was a blank,uncomprehending stare, which plunged her back into despair. "He don'tknow me!" she said, with piteous accent. She now perceived the source ofthe blood upon her arm. It came from a wound in the boy's head which hadbeen dashed upon a stone.
The sight of this wound brought back the blaze of accusing anger to hereyes. "See what you did!" she said, with cold malignity. Then by suddenshift she bent to the sweet face in her arms and kissed it passionately."Open your eyes, darling. You must not die! I won't let you die! Can'tyou hear me? Don't you know where you are?"
He opened his eyes once more, quietly, and looked up into her face with afaint, drowsy smile. He could not yet locate himself in space and time,but he knew her and was comforted. He wondered why he should be lookingup into a sunny sky. He heard the wind and the sound of a horse croppinggrass, and the voice of the girl penetratingly sweet as that of a youngmother calling her baby back to life, and slowly his benumbed brain beganto resolve the mystery.
Belden, forgotten, ignored as completely as the conies, sat with chokingthroat and smarting eyes. For him the world was only dust and ashes--aruin which his own barbaric spirit had brought upon itself.
Slowly the youth's eyes took on expression. "Are we still on the hill?"he asked.
"Yes, dearest," she assured him. Then to Belden, "He knows where he is!"
Wayland again struggled with reality. "What has happened to me?"
"You fell and hurt your head."
He turned slightly and observed the other man looking down at her withdark and tragic glance. "Hello, Belden," he said, feebly. "How came youhere?" Then noting Berrie's look, he added: "I remember. He tried to killme." He again searched his antagonist's face. "Why didn't you finish thejob?"
> The girl tried to turn his thought aside. "It's all right now, darling.He won't make any more trouble. Don't mind him. I don't care for anybodynow you are coming back to me."
Wayland wonderingly regarded the face of the girl. "And you--are youhurt?"
"No, I'm not hurt. I am perfectly happy now." She turned to Belden withquick, authoritative command. "Unsaddle the horses and set up the tent.We won't be able to leave here to-night."
He rose with instant obedience, glad of a chance to serve her, and soonhad the tent pegged to its place and the bedding unrolled. Together theylifted the wounded youth and laid him upon his blankets beneath the lowcanvas roof which seemed heavenly helpful to Berea.
"There!" she said, caressingly. "Now you are safe, no matter whether itrains or not."
He smiled. "It seems I'm to have my way after all. I hope I shall be ableto see the sun rise. I've sort of lost my interest in the sunset."
"Now, Cliff," she said, as soon as the camp was in order and a firestarted, "I reckon you'd better ride on. I haven't any further use foryou."
"Don't say that, Berrie," he pleaded. "I can't leave you here alone witha sick man. Let me stay and help."
She looked at him for a long time before she replied. "I shall never beable to look at you again without hating you," she said. "I shall alwaysremember you as you looked when you were killing that boy. So you'dbetter ride on and keep a-riding. I'm going to forget all this just assoon as I can, and it don't help me any to have you around. I never wantto see you or hear your name again."
"You don't mean that, Berrie!"
"Yes, I do," she asserted, bitterly. "I mean just that. So saddle up andpull out. All I ask of you is to say nothing about what has happenedhere. You'd better leave the state. If Wayland should get worse it mightgo hard with you."
He accepted his banishment. "All right. If you feel that way I'll ride.But I'd like to do something for you before I go. I'll pile up somewood--"
"No. I'll take care of that." And without another word of farewell sheturned away and re-entered the tent.
Mounting his horse with painful slowness, as though suddenly grown old,the reprieved assassin rode away up the mountain, his head low, his eyesupon the ground.
The Forester's Daughter: A Romance of the Bear-Tooth Range Page 12
