CHAPTER III
_Elise_
Bennie was an early riser, as became a faithful cook; but, early as heusually was, this morning he was startled into wakefulness by a jarringchug, as Zephyr, with a relieved grunt, dropped a squashy sack on thefloor near his bunk. Bennie sprang to a sitting posture, rubbing hissleepy eyes to clear his vision; but, before he could open his eyes orhis mouth beyond a startled ejaculation, Zephyr had departed. He soonreappeared. There was another chug, another grunt, and anotherdeparture. Four times this was repeated. Then Zephyr seated himself onthe bunk, and, pushing back his sombrero, mopped his perspiring brow.
"What the--" Bennie started in, but Zephyr's uplifted hand restrainedhim.
"The race is not to the swift, Julius Benjamin. The wise hound holds hisyap till he smells a hot foot. Them indecisive sacks is hot footses,Julius Benjamin; but it isn't your yap, not by quite some."
"What's up, Zephyr?" asked Bennie. "I'm not leaky."
"Them gelatinous sacks," Zephyr went on, eyeing them meditatively, "Ifound hidden in the bushes near the mine, and they contain mightyinteresting matter. They're an epitome of life. They started straight,but missed connections. Pulled up at the wrong station. I've thrown theswitch, and now you and me, Julius, will make it personally conductedthe rest of the trip."
"Hm!" mused Bennie. "I see. That stuff's been pinched from the mill."
"Good boy, Julius Benjamin! You're doing well. You'll go into words oftwo syllables next."
Zephyr nodded, with a languid smile.
"But, to recapitulate, as my old school-teacher used to say, there'sthousands of dollars in them sacks. The Rainbow ain't coughing up nosuch rich stuff as that. That rock is broken; ergo, it's been under thestamps. It's coarse and fine, from which I infer it hasn't been throughthe screens. And furthermore----"
Bennie interrupted eagerly.
"They've just hung up the stamps and raked out the rich stuff that'ssettled between the dies!"
"Naturally, gold being heavier than quartz. Julius Benjamin, you're fitfor the second reader."
Bennie laughed softly.
"It's Luna or Morrison been robbing the mill. Won't Frenchy pull thelong face when he hears of your find?"
Zephyr made no farther reply than to blow _There'll Be a Hot Time_ frompursed lips as he rolled a cigarette.
"So there will be," Bennie answered.
"Not to-night, Bennie." Zephyr was puffing meditative whiffs in the air."Great things move slowly. Richard Firmstone is great, Benjamin; leaveit to him."
Bennie was already dressed, and Zephyr, throwing the stub of hiscigarette through the open window, followed him to the kitchen. He atehis specially prepared breakfast with an excellent appetite.
"I think I'll raise my bet. I mentioned a sack of flour and a side ofbacon. I'll take a can of coffee and a dab of sugar. St. Peter'llappreciate that. 'Tis well to keep on the right side of the old man.Some of us may have occasion to knock at his gate before the summer isover. You've heard of my new claim, Bennie?"
Bennie made no reply. Between packing up Zephyr's supplies, attending tobreakfast for the men, and thinking of the sacks of stolen ore, he wassomewhat preoccupied.
Zephyr stowed the supplies in his pack and raised it to his shoulder.Bennie looked up in surprise.
"You're not going now, are you?"
Zephyr was carefully adjusting the straps of his pack.
"It looks pretty much that way, Benjamin. When a man's got all he wants,it's time for him to lope. If he stays, he might get more andpossibly--less."
"What will I do with these sacks?" Bennie asked hurriedly, as Zephyrpassed through the door.
Zephyr made no reply, further than softly to whistle _Break the News toMother_ as he swung into the trail. He clumped sturdily along,apparently unmindful of the rarefied air that would ordinarily make anunburdened man gasp for breath. His lips were still pursed, though theyhad ceased to give forth sound. He came to the nearly level terracewhereon, among scattered boulders, were clustered the squat shanties ofthe town of Pandora.
He merely glanced at the Blue Goose, whose polished windows were justbeginning to glow with the light of the rising sun. He saw a door openat the far end of the house and Madame La Martine emerge, a broom in herhands and a dust-cloth thrown over one shoulder.
Pierre's labours ended late. Madame's began very early. Both had anunvarying procession. Pierre had much hilarious company; it was hisbusiness to keep it so. He likewise had many comforting thoughts; thesecost him no effort. The latter came as a logical sequence to the former.Madame had no company, hilarious or otherwise. Instead of complacentthoughts, she had anxiety. And so it came to pass that, while Pierregrew sleek and smooth with the passing of years, Madame developed manywrinkles and grey hairs and a frightened look, from the proffering ofwares that were usually thrust aside with threatening snarls and manyharsh words. Pierre was not alone in the unstinted pouring forth of thewine of pleasure for the good of his companions and in uncorking hisvials of wrath for the benefit of his wife.
Zephyr read the whole dreary life at a glance. A fleeting thought cameto Zephyr. How would it have been with Madame had she years ago chosenhim instead of Pierre? A smile, half pitying, half contemptuous, wassuggested by an undecided quiver of the muscles of his face, morepronounced by the light in his expressive eyes. He left the waggon trailthat zig-zagged up the steep grade beyond the outskirts of the town,cutting across their sharp angles in a straight line. Near the foot ofan almost perpendicular cliff he again picked up the trail. Through anotch in the brow of the cliff a solid bar of water shot forth. Thesolid bar, in its fall broken to a misty spray, fell into a mossy basinat the cliff's foot, regathered, and then, sliding and twisting in itsrock-strewn bed, gurgled among nodding flowers and slender, wavingwillows that were fanned into motion by the breath of the falling spray.Where the brook crossed the trail Zephyr stood still. Not all at once.There was an indescribable suggestion of momentum overcome by theapplication of perfectly balanced power.
Zephyr did not whistle, even softly. Instead, there was a low hum--
_But the maiden in the garden Was the fairest flower of all._
Zephyr deliberately swung his pack from his shoulders, deposited it onthe ground, and as deliberately seated himself on the pack. There was anunwonted commotion among the cluster of thrifty plants at which Zephyrwas looking expectantly. A laughing face with large eyes sparkling withmischievous delight looked straight into his own. As the girl rose toher feet she tossed a long, heavy braid of black hair over her shoulder.
"You thought you would scare me; now, didn't you?" She came forth fromthe tangled plants and stood before him.
Zephyr's eyes were resting on the girl's face with a smile of quietapprobation. Tall and slender, she was dressed in a dark gown, whosesailor blouse was knotted at the throat with a red scarf; at her belt aholster showed a silver-mounted revolver. An oval face rested on ashapely neck, as delicately poised as the nodding flowers she held inher hand. A rich glow, born of perfect health and stimulating air,burned beneath the translucent olive skin.
Zephyr made no direct reply to her challenge.
"Why aren't you helping Madame at the Blue Goose?"
"Because I've struck, that's why." There was a defiant toss of the head,a compressed frown on the arching brows. Like a cloud wind-driven fromacross the sun the frown disappeared; a light laugh rippled from betweenparted lips. "Daddy was mad, awfully mad. You ought to have seen him."The flowers fell from her hands as she threw herself into Pierre'sattitude. "'Meenx,'" she mimicked, "'you mek to defy me in my own house?Me? Do I not have plenty ze troub', but you mus' mek ze more? _Hein?_Ansaire!' And so I did. So!" She threw her head forward, puckered herlips, thrusting out the tip of her tongue at the appreciative Zephyr."Oh, it's lots of fun to get daddy mad. 'Vaire is my whip, my dog whip?I beat you. I chastise you, meenx!'" The girl stooped to pick up herscattered flowers. "Only it frightens poor mammy so. Mammy never talksback only when daddy goes for me.
I'd just like to see him when he comesdown this morning and finds me gone. It would be lots of fun. Only, if Iwas there, I couldn't be here, and it's just glorious here, isn't it?What's the trouble, Zephyr? You haven't said a word to me all thistime."
"When your blessed little tongue gets tired perhaps I'll start in.There's no more telling when that will be than what I'll say, supposingI get the chance."
"Oh, I knew there was something I wanted especially to see you about."The face grew cloudy. "What do you think? You know I was sixteen my lastbirthday, just a week ago?" She paused and looked at Zephyrinterrogatively. "I want to know where you are all the time now. It'sawfully important. I may want to elope with you at a moment's notice!"She looked impressively at Zephyr.
Zephyr's jaw dropped.
"What the mischief----"
Elise interrupted:
"No, wait; I'm not through. Daddy got very playful that day, chucked mychin, and called me _ma chere enfant_. That always means mischief.'Elise bin seexten to-day, heh? Bimeby she tink to liv' her hol' daddyand her hol' mammy and bin gone hoff wiz anodder feller, _hein_?' Thenhe made another dab at my chin. I knew what he meant." She again assumedPierre's position. "'What you say, _ma cherie_? I pick you hout one niceman! One ver' nice man! _Hein?_ M'sieu Mo-reeson. A ver' nice man. Heben took good care _ma cherie_!'"
Zephyr was betrayed into a startled motion. Elise was watching him withnarrowed eyes. There was a gleam of satisfaction.
"That's all right, Zephyr. That's just what I did, only I did more. Itold daddy I'd just like M'sieu Mo-reeson to say marry to me! I tolddaddy that I'd take the smirk out of M'sieu Mo-reeson's face and thosepretty curls out of M'sieu Mo-reeson's head if he dared look marry atme. Only," she went on, "I'm a little girl, after all, and I thought theeasiest way would be to elope with you. I would like to see M'sieuMo-reeson try to take me away from a big, strong man like you." Therewas an expression of intense scorn on her face that bared the eventeeth.
Zephyr was not conscious of Elise. There was a hard, set look on hisface. Elise noted it. She tossed her head airily.
"Oh, you needn't look so terribly distressed. You needn't, if you don'twant to. I dare say that the superintendent at the mill would jump atthe chance. I think I shall ask him, anyway." Her manner changed. "Whydo they always call him the old man? He is not such a very old man."
"They'd call a baby 'the old man' if he was superintendent. Do they saymuch about him?" Zephyr asked, meditatively.
"Oh yes, lots. M'sier Mo-reeson"--she made a wry face at the name--"isalways talking about that minion of capitalistic oppression that'ssucking the life-blood of the serfs of toil. Daddy hates the old man.He's afraid of him. Daddy always hates anyone he's afraid of, exceptme."
Zephyr grunted absently.
"That's so." Elise spoke emphatically. "That's why I'm here to-day. Itold daddy that if I was old enough to get married I was old enough todo as I liked."
In spite of his languid appearance Zephyr was very acute. He was gettinga great deal that needed careful consideration. He was intenselyinterested, and he wanted to hear more. He half hesitated, then decidedthat the end justified the means.
"What makes you think that Pierre hates the old man?" he ventured,without changing countenance.
"Oh, lots of things. He tells Luna and M'sieu Mo-reeson"--another wryface--"to 'look hout.' He talks to the men, tells them that the 'hol'man ees sleek, ver' sleek, look hout, da's hall, an' go slow,' and a lotof things. I'm awfully hungry, Zephyr, and I don't want to go down forbreakfast. Haven't you got something good in your pack? It looks awfullygood." She prodded the pack with inquisitive fingers.
Zephyr rose to his feet.
"It will be better when I've cooked it. You'll eat a breakfast after mycooking?"
Elise clapped her hands.
"That will be fine. I'll just sit here and boss you. If you're good, andyou are, you know, I'll tell you some more about M'sieu. Suppose we justcall him M'sieu, just you and me. That'll be our secret."
Zephyr gathered dry sticks and started a fire. He opened his pack, cutoff some slices of bacon, and, impaling them on green twigs, hung thembefore the fire. A pinch of salt and baking powder in a handful of flourwas mixed into a stiff paste, stirred into the frying-pan, which waspropped up in front of the fire. He took some cups from his pack, and,filling them with water, put them on the glowing coals.
Elise kept up a rattling chatter through it all.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Daddy says M'sieu is going to be a great man, agreat labour leader. That's what M'sieu says himself--that he will leadbenighted labour from the galling chains of slavery into the gloriouslight of freedom's day." Elise waved her arms and rolled her eyes. Thenshe stopped, laughing. "It's awfully funny. I hear it all when I sit atthe desk. You know there's only thin boards between my desk and daddy'sprivate room, and I can't help but hear. That coffee and bacon smellgood, and what a lovely bannock! Aren't you almost ready? It's as niceas when we were on the ranch, and you used to carry me round on yourback. That was an awful long time ago, though, wasn't it?"
Zephyr only grunted in reply. He pursed his lips for a meditativewhistle, thought better of it, took the frying-pan from its prop, andsounded the browning bannock with his fingers.
_For the babbling streams of youth Grow to silent pools of truth When they find a thirsty hollow On their way._
He spoke dreamily.
"What are you talking about?" Elise broke in.
"Oh, nothing in particular. I was just thinking--might have beenthinking out loud."
"That's you, every time, Zephyr. You think without talking, and I talkwithout thinking. It's lots more fun. Do you think I will ever grow intoa dear, sober old thing like you? Just tell me that." She stooped down,taking Zephyr's face in both her hands and turned it up to her own.
Zephyr looked musingly up into the laughing eyes, and took her handsinto his.
"Not for the same reasons, I guess, not if I can help it," he added,half to himself. "Now, if you'll be seated, I'll serve breakfast." Hedropped the hands and pointed to a boulder.
Elise ate the plain fare with the eager appetite of youth and health.From far down the gulch the muffled roar of the stamps rose and fell onthe light airs that drifted up and down. Through it all was the softswish of the falling spray, the sharp _blip! blip!_ as points oflight, gathered from dripping boughs, grew to sparkling gems, then,losing their hold, fell into little pools at the foot of the cliff. Highabove the straggling town the great cables of the tram floated in theair like dusty webs, and up and down these webs, like black spiders,darted the buckets that carried the ore from mine to mill, thendisappeared in the roaring mill, and dumping their loads of ore shot upagain into sight, and, growing in size, swept on toward the cliff andpassed out of sight over the falls above.
Across the narrow gulch a precipice sheered up eight hundred feet, ahard green crown of stunted spruces on its retreating brow, above thecrown a stretch of soft green meadow steeply barred with greenerwillows, above the meadow jagged spires of blackened lava, thrust upfrom drifts of shining snow: a triple tiara crowning this silent priestof the mountains.
To the east the long brown slide was marked with clifflets mottled aswas Joseph's coat of many colours, with every shade of red and yellowthat rusting flecks of iron minerals could give, brightened here andthere with clustered flowers which marked a seeping spring, up and up,broken at last by a jagged line of purple that lay softly against theclear blue of the arching sky.
To the west the mountains parted and the vision dropped to miles ofbrowning mesa, flecked with ranchers' squares of irrigated green. Stillfarther a misty haze of distant mountains rose, with the great soft bellof the curving sky hovering over all.
Zephyr ate in a silence which Elise did not care to break. Her restlesseyes glanced from Zephyr to the mountains, fell with an eager caress onthe flowers that almost hid the brook, looked out to the distant mesa,and last of all shot defiance at the blazing windows of the Blue Goosethat w
ere hurtling back the fiery darts of the attacking sun.
She sprang to her feet, brushing the crumbs from her clothes.
"Much obliged, Mr. Zephyr, for your entertainment." She swept him a lowcourtesy. "I told you I was out for a lark to-day. Now you can wash thedishes."
Zephyr had also risen. He gave no heed to her playful attitude.
"I want you to pay especial attention, Elise."
"Oh, gracious!" she exclaimed. "Now I'm in for it." She straightened herface, but she could not control the mischievous sparkle of her eyes.
There was little of meditation but much decision in Zephyr's words.
"Don't let Pierre tease you, persuade you, frighten you, or bulldoze youinto marrying that Morrison. Do you hear? Get away. Run away."
"Or elope," interrupted Elise. "Don't skip that."
"Go to Bennie, the old man, or to anyone, if you can't find me."
"What a speech, Zephyr! Did any of it get away?"
Zephyr was too much in earnest even to smile.
"Remember what I say."
"You put in an awful lot of hard words. But then, I don't need toremember. I may change my mind. Maybe there'd be a whole lot of funafter all in marrying M'sieu. I'd just like to show him that he can'tscare me the way daddy does mammy. It would be worth a whole box ofchips. On the whole I think I'll take daddy's advice. Bye-bye, Zephyr."She again picked up her scattered flowers and went dancing and skippingdown the trail. At the turn she paused for an instant, blew Zephyr asaucy kiss from the tips of her fingers, then passed out of sight.
A voice floated back to the quiet figure by the fire.
"Don't feel too bad, Zephyr. I'll probably change my mind again."
The Blue Goose Page 3
