Collected Works of Zane Grey

by Zane Grey

  She slid off the rock into his arms, blind, weeping, torn asunder, her slender hands clutching him. “No — more,” she sobbed. “You break — my heart — with joy. I — I had — despaired. Twice I have — nearly died. I knew — the next time...But this — this will save me.”

  Day after day the purple range loomed closer. The scouts saw at last that the stream they had followed for so long was presently going to join a river. That green and gold line disappeared round the northern end of the range. And the next day the leader of the drovers, for once actuated by haste, made for the junction. Blue smoke rose about the big trees. It must come from aboriginals, but it was not hostile.

  “Boss, I ben tinkit no black fella,” said Friday to Sterl. Sterl rode ahead to tell Dann.

  “Aye, my boy, I guessed that,” he cried. “We have fought the good fight. With His guidance! Look around you, Sterl — richest, finest land I ever saw! Ha! A road — a ford!” and Dann pointed. He had indeed come to a road that sloped down under the giant trees to the shallow stream. His followers all saw, but none could believe his eyes.

  Three white men came out into the open, halting to stare. They pointed. They gesticulated. They saw Dann’s wagons, the women on the drivers’ seats, the mounted drovers, the big band of horses, the great mob and ran to meet the trekkers. Dann halted his four horses, and Slyter stopped beside him. The mounted drovers lined up, a lean ragged crew, with Leslie conspicuous among them, unmistakably a girl, bronzed and beautiful.

  “Good day, cobbers!” called Dann.

  “Who may you be?” replied one of the three, a stalwart man with clean-shaven, rugged face and keen, intelligent eyes.

  “Are those mountains the Kimberleys?” asked Dann, intensely.

  “Yes. The eastern Kimberleys. Drover, you can’t be Stanley Dann?”

  “It really seems I can’t be. But I am!” declared Dann.

  “Great Scott! Dann was lost two years and more ago, according to reports at Darwin. It has taken you two years and five months to get here!”

  “But death visited and dogged our trek, alas!” said Dann. “We trekked almost to the Gulf and then across the Never-never Land. And we lost several drovers, five thousand head of cattle, and a hundred horses on the way.”

  “My word! What great news for western Australia! I see you have a mob of cattle left. I’m glad to be the first to tell you good news.”

  “Good news?” boomed Dann, in echo.

  “Well, rather. Dann, cattle are worth unheard-of prices. Horses the same. Reason is that gold has been discovered in the Kimberleys!”

  “GOLD!”

  “Yes, gold! There’s been a rush-in for months. Mines south of here. Trekkers coming in from Perth and Fremantle. Settlers by ship to Darwin and Wyndham. I have been freighting supplies in to the gold fields. My name is Horton.”

  “Do you hear, all?” boomed Dann. “The beginning of the empire I envisioned.”

  “We all hear, Stanley, and our hearts are full,” replied Slyter.

  “What river is this?” queried Dann, shaking off his bedazzlement, to point to the shining water through the trees.

  “That is the Ord. You have come down the Elivre,” replied Horton. “Dennison Plains are in sight to the south. The finest country, the finest grazing for stock in the world!”

  “Aye, friend. It looks so. But this road? Where does it lead and how far?”

  “Follows the Ord to the seaport. Wyndham, a good few miles less than two hundred. You are in the nick of time, Dann. The government will sell this land to you so cheap it is unbelievable!”

  “Ha! This land?” called Dann, his voice rolling, “Dann’s Station! This will be our range!”

  “Stanley, we must send at once for supplies,” said Slyter, rousing.

  “Horton, do we look like starving trekkers?”

  “Indeed you do. I never saw such a peak-faced, ragamuffin lot of drovers. Or ladies so charming despite all!”

  “They have lived for days now wholly on meat.”

  “Forgive me, Dann, for not thinking of that! Sam, run and boil the billy. Dann, I can let you have tea, fruit, sugar, tinned milk...”

  “Enough, man! Do not overwhelm us! Slyter, what shall we do next — that is, after that cup of tea?”

  “Stanley, we should thank heaven, pitch camp, and plan to send both wagons to Wyndham for supplies.”

  “Wal, air you gonna ask us to get down an’ come in?” drawled Red. “I reckon I can stand tea.”

  “American!” called out Horton, with twinkling eyes.

  “Savvied again. The name is Krehl. An’ heah’s my pard, Hazelton.”

  After supper, Beryl and Leslie went into conference over the innumerable things they wanted bought. Sterl and Red sat beside a box and racked their brains to think of necessities to purchase from town.

  “Strange, Red, just think!” ejaculated Sterl. “We don’t really need anything. We have lost the sense of need.”

  “Yeah! How about toothbrushes, powder, soap, towels, iodine, glycerine, combs, shears to cut hair — an’ socks?”

  “On account of the girls we must get over all these savage habits, I suppose...Have you made up your mind about Beryl?” Sterl asked, averting his eyes.

  “Pard, she cares more about me than I deserve — than I ever had a girl care for me before. An’ lately, I don’t know how long long. She’s been different. All that misery gone! She’s forgot Ormiston an’ every damn bit of thet — thet...An’s she’s been happy. Jest the sweetest, softest, lovingest, most unselfish creature under the sun! An’ I’d be loco if I didn’t see it’s because of me — that she takes it for granted...”

  “I should think you’d be the happiest man in the world,” declared Sterl, feelingly. “I am.”

  “I reckon I’d be too, if I’d jest give up.”

  “Red! Then right this minute — do it!”

  “Holy Mackeli! Don’t knock me down. All right, old pard, I knuckle. I show yellow! But there’s a queer twist in my mind. She always got the best of me. If I could jest think up one more way to get the best of her before, or mebbe better when I tell her how I want her — then I’d match you for who’s the luckiest an’ happiest man.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Have you looked over this range? Grandest I ever seen! Wal, think! I’ve got more money in my kick than I ever earned in my life. An’ you had a small fortune when I see yore belt last.”

  “I have it all, packed in my bag.”

  “Good! Wal, bright prospect, huh?”

  By the eighth day, on which Benson and Roland were expected to return with the wagons and supplies, Sterl and Red had progressed well with their cabin building. The site was the Ord River side of the wooded point, high up on a grassy, flower-spangled bank, shaded by great trees from the morning sun, and facing the Kimberleys.

  The cabin was to have thatched roof and walls, for which Friday scouted out a wide-leaved palm, perhaps a species of pandanus. Slyter designed the framework, which consisted of long round poles carefully fitted. Larry, who was a good carpenter, often lent a helping hand. The girls, enthusiastic over its beauty, visited the site several times a day. Red, who was now unusually mild and sweet, made one characteristic remark.

  “Say, anybody would think you girls expected to live over heah with us fellers!”

  That sally precipitated blushes, a rout, and from a little distance, very audible giggles.

  “Red, that was a dig,” remonstrated Sterl. “You are a mean cuss. If you would only take a tumble to yourself the girls could come over here to live.”

  “Hell! I’ve shore tumbled. What do you want for two-bits? Canary birds? An’ why don’t you figger out thet trick for me to play on Beryl? I cain’t last much longer. Why, when she comes near me I go plumb loco.”

  “Whoopee! That’s talking! I’ve got the deal planned!”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s clever. Even Dann thought so. He agreed. And he was tickled!”

  “You double-crossin’
two-faced Arizonie geezer!” ejaculated Red. “You told Dann before you told me?”

  “Sure. I had to get his consent. Listen, pard...”

  Excited cries broke in upon their colloquy. The girls appeared off at the edge of the grove. Leslie cupped her hands to her lips and shrieked: “Boys, wagon’s back! Come!”

  They raced like boys, to draw up abreast and panting before two bulging, canvas-covered wagons, and their excited comrades.

  “Mr. Dann,” Benson was saying. “Ten days going and coming. Fair to middling road. One wagon loaded with food supplies, milk, sugar, vegetables, fruit, everything. Other full of personal articles... Four freight wagons following us with lumber, galvanized roofing, tools, utensils, hardware, harness, mattresses, staples — the biggest order ever filled in Wyndham!”

  While the big wagons were being unpacked, while the cowboys whooped and the girls squealed, a steady, voluminous stream of questions poured into the bewildered ears of Benson and Roland, who had been to town, to a seaport, who had heard news of the world, and of the old home.

  Gold had indeed been discovered in the south and west of the Kimberleys. Ships and prospectors, sheepmen and drovers, trekkers and adventurers were coming north from Perth and Fremantle and points far to the south. Ships plied regularly to Darwin. Stanley Dann’s trek across the Never-never Land was the wonder of two busy seaports.

  There were letters for all the company except Sterl and Red. Somehow that silenced the drawling Red and struck a pang to Sterl’s heart. Stanley Dann read aloud in his booming voice a communication from Heald. He had got out safely with his comrades and the mob of cattle Dann had given them. They worked out toward the coast into fine grazing country where he and his partners established a station. Ormiston’s three escaping bushrangers had been murdered by aborigines. A rumor that Dann’s trekkers had perished on the Never-never had preceded Heald’s return to Queensland. But he never credited it and chanced a letter. The government had offered to sell hundred-mile-square tracts of land in the outback for what seemed little money.

  “Gosh! A hundred-mile-square ranch!” drawled Red. “I reckon I gotta buy myself a couple of them.”

  They settled themselves in the pleasant shade. Mrs. Slyter and Leslie served tea. Beryl sat pensive and abstracted. On that auspicious morning, when all had been gay, Red had not deigned to give her even a smile. What a capital actor Dann was! To all save Sterl and Red he appeared only the great leader, glad and beaming.

  Presently Dann produced a little black book, worn of back and yellow of leaf. He opened it meditatively.

  “Beryl, will you please come here,” he said, casually. “In this new and unsettled country I think I may be useful in other ways besides being a cattleman. I shall need practice to acquire a seemly dignity, and a clarity of voice.”

  He continued to mull over the yellow pages. Sterl saw the big fingers quiver ever so slightly. Beryl, used to her father’s moods, came obediently to stand before him.

  “What, Dad?” she inquired, curiously.

  “Sterl, come here and stand up with Beryl,” he called. “No, let Krehl come. He might be more fitting.”

  Red strolled forward, his spurs jingling, his demeanour as cool and nonchalant as it ever had been.

  “I’ve observed you holding my daughter’s hand a good few times on this trek,” Dann said, mildly. “Please take her hand now.”

  As Red reached for Beryl’s hand she looked up at him with a wondering smile and her color deepened. Then Dann stood up to lift his head and expose his bronze-gold face, which appeared a profound mask, except for the golden lightning in his amber eyes.

  “What’s the idea, boss?” drawled Red.

  “Yes, Dad, what is — all this?” faltered Beryl, confused.

  “Listen, child and you Krehl,” replied Dann. “This should be fun for you, and surely for the others. Please watch me. Criticize my ministerial manner and voice. Trekking does not improve even the civilized and necessary graces. Well, here we are...”

  And in a swift resonant voice he ran over the opening passages of the marriage service. Then, more slowly and impressively, he addressed Red.

  “James Krehl, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife... to have and to hold...to love and to cherish...until death do you part?”

  “I do!” replied Red, ringingly.

  The leader turned to his daughter. “Beryl Dann, do you take this man to your lawful wedded husband...to have and to hold...to love, cherish and obey until death do you part?”

  “I — I — I do!” gasped Beryl, faintly.

  Dann added sonorously: “I pronounce you man and wife. Whom God has joined together let no man put asunder!”

  Beryl stared up at him, visibly a prey to conflicting tides of emotions. It had been a play, of course, but the mere recital of the vows, the counterfeit solemnity, had torn her serenity asunder. When her father embraced her, thick-voiced and loving, she appeared further bewildered.

  “Daddy, what a — a strange thing — for you to practice that — on me!”

  “Beryl, it is the most beautiful thing of the ages...Krehl, I congratulate you with all my heart. I feel that she is safe at last.”

  Sterl dragged the astounded and backward Leslie up to the couple. “Red, old pard, put it there!” he cried, wringing Red’s free hand. “Beryl, let me be the first to kiss the bride!” Leslie could only stare, her lips wide.

  “But — but it was only a play!” flashed Beryl. Then Red kissed her lips with a passion of tenderness and violence commingled.

  “Wal, wife, it was about time,” drawled Red.

  That word unstrung Beryl. “Wife?” she echoed, almost inaudibly. “Red! You — you married me — really? Father! Have I been made a — fool of?” cried Beryl, tragically.

  “My daughter, compose yourself,” returned Dann. “We thought to have a little fun at your expense. I am still an ordained clergyman. But you are Mrs. Krehl! I’ll have marriage certificates somewhere in my luggage!”

  She swayed back to Red. She could not stand without support. She lifted frail brown hands that could not cling to Red’s sleeves.

  “Red! — You never asked me!”

  “Wal, honey, the fact was I didn’t have the nerve. So Sterl an’ I went to yore Dad an’ fixed it up. Beryl, he’s one grand guy.” He snatched the swaying girl to his breast. Her eyelids had fallen.

  “Beryl!” he shouted, in fear and remorse. “Don’t you dare faint! Not heah an’ now of all times in our lives! I did it thet way because I’ve always been dyin’ of love for you. Since thet — thet orful time I’ve been shore you cared for me, but I never risked you outwittin’ me. I swore I’d fool you once an’ go on my knees to you the rest of my life!”

  Suddenly she was shot through and through with revivified life. She did not see any others there. And when she lifted her lips to Red’s, it was something — the look of both of them then — that dimmed Sterl’s eyes.

  “Come, Sterl and Leslie,” boomed Dann. “I require more practice. Here, before me, and join hands. Our bride and groom there may stand as witnesses.” And almost before Sterl was sensible of anything except the shy and bedazzled girl beside him, clutching his hand, he was married!

  Friday wrung Sterl’s hand. No intelligence could have exaggerated what shone in his eyes.

  “Me stotum alonga you an’ missy. Me be good black fella. No home, no fadder, no mudder, no brudder, no lubra. Imm stay alonga you, boss.”

  Sterl and Red walked by the river alone.

  “Pard, it’s done,” said Red. “We’re Australians. Who would ever have thunk it? But it’s great. All this for two no-good gunslingin’ cowboys!”

  “Red, it is almost too wonderful to be true!”

  It was as Stanley Dann had said of them all: “We have fought the good fight.” In that moment Sterl saw with marvelous clarity. It had taken a far country and an incomparable adventure with hardy souls to make men out of two wild cowboys.

  THE END
/>   Valley of Wild Horses

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE PANHANDLE WAS a lonely purple range land, unfenced and wind swept. Bill Smith, cattleman, threw up a cabin and looked at the future with hopeful eyes. One day while plowing almost out of sight of his little home — which that morning he had left apprehensively owing to an impending event — he espied his wife Margaret coming along the edge of the plowed field. She had brought his lunch this day, despite his order to the contrary. Bill dropped the loop of his driving reins over the plow handle and strode toward her. Presently she halted wearily and sat down where the dark rich overturned earth met the line of bleached grass. Bill meant to scold Margaret for bringing his lunch, but it developed she had brought him something more. A son!

  This boy was born on the fragrant fresh soil, out on the open prairie, under the steely sun and the cool wind from off the Llano Estacado. He came into the world protesting against this primitive manner of his birth. Bill often related that the youngster arrived squalling and showed that his lung capacity fitted his unusual size. Despite the mother’s protestations, Bill insisted on calling the lad Panhandle.

  Panhandle’s first memory was of climbing into the big cupboard in the cabin, falling out upon his head and getting blood all over his white dress. His next adventurous experience was that of chewing tobacco he found in his father’s coat. This made him very sick. His mother thought he was poisoned, and as Bill was away, she ran to the nearest neighbors for help. By the time she returned with the experienced neighbor woman Panhandle had gotten rid of the tobacco and was bent upon further conquest.