CHAPTER XXVI
AUTUMN AND THE GODS
It was Sunday afternoon and a hazy, golden, late September sun wasswimming lazily in the blue arc of sky, flooding the lower gallery ofthe Circle Bar ranchhouse, but not reaching a secluded nook in which satHollis and Nellie Hazelton. Mrs. Norton was somewhere in the house andNorton had gone down to the bunkhouse for a talk with the men--Hollisand Nellie could see him, sitting on a bench in the shade of the eaves,the other men gathered about him.
Below the broad level that stretched away from the ranchhouse sank thebig basin, sweeping away to the mountains. Miles into the distance theCircle Bar cattle could be seen--moving dots in the center of a great,green bowl. To the right Razor-Back ridge loomed its bald crest upwardwith no verdure saving the fringe of shrubbery at its base; to the leftstretched a vast plain that met the distant horizon that stretched aninterminable distance behind the cottonwood. Except for the moving dotsthere was a total absence of life and movement in the big basin. Itspread in its wide, gradual, downward slope, bathed in the yellowsunshine of the new, mellow season, peacefully slumberous, infinitelybeautiful.
Many times had Hollis sat in the gallery watching it, his eyesglistening, his soul stirred to awe. Long since had he ceased regrettingthe glittering tinsel of the cities of his recollection; they seemedartificial, unreal. When he had first gazed out over the basin he hadbeen oppressed with a sensation of uneasiness. Its vastness had appalledhim, its silence had aroused in him that vague disquiet which is akin tofear. But these emotions had passed. He still felt awed--he would alwaysfeel it, for it seemed that here he was looking upon a section of theworld in its primitive state; that in forming this world the creator hadbeen in his noblest mood--so far did the lofty mountains, the wide,sweeping valleys, the towering buttes, and the mighty canyons dwarf theflat hills and the puny shallows of the land he had known. But he was nolonger appalled; disquietude had been superseded by love.
It all seemed to hold some mystery for him--an alluring, soul-stirringmystery. The tawny mountains, immutable guardians of the basin, whosepeaks rose somberly in the twilight glow--did they hold it? Or was ithidden in the basin, in the great, green sweep that basked in theeternal sunlight?
Perhaps there was no mystery. Perhaps he felt merely the romance thatwould inevitably come to one who deeply appreciated the beauty of a landinto which he had come so unwillingly? For romance was here.
He turned his head slightly and looked at the girl who sat beside him.She also was looking out over the basin, her eyes filled with a lightthat thrilled him. He studied her face long, noting the regularfeatures, the slight tan, through which shone the dusky bloom of perfecthealth; the golden brown hair, with the wind-blown wisps straggling overher temples; he felt the unaccountable, indefinable something that toldhim of her inborn innocence and purity--qualities that he had worshipedever since he had been old enough to know the difference between rightand wrong.
A deep respect moved him, a reverent smile wreathed his lips. Motherly?Yes, that world-thrilling word aptly described her. And as he continuedto look at her he realized that this world held no mystery for himbeyond that which was enthroned in the heart of the girl who sat besidehim, unconscious of his thoughts.
He turned again toward the basin. He did not want to uncover themystery--yet. There were still several things to be done before he wouldfeel free to speak the words that he had meditated upon for some weeks.Meanwhile--if the gods were with him--the solving of the mystery wouldbe the more enjoyable.
Two weeks of inaction had followed the primary incident. Several of TenSpot's friends were now in his employ; in spite of the drought theCircle Bar had so far experienced a very prosperous season, and, thoughthe addition of the men represented quite an item of expense, he feltthat it was much better to employ them than to allow them to bere-engaged by Dunlavey.
He had been able to save considerable money. This he had transferred toa bank in Santa Fe, for he had determined to stay in the West. He hadtold his mother of this decision and had asked her to come, but she hadwritten that she preferred to remain East for a time--at least until thefollowing spring.
Hollis was satisfied. Affairs were progressing beyond his anticipations.Dunlavey's influence in the county had received a mighty blow in thedefeat of Watkins at the primary; he had received notice of theenactment of several new laws that would appreciably assist him in hisfight; he had succeeded in winning many friends because of his attitudeon the water question; the increased number of advertisements appearingin the _Kicker_ would soon necessitate the addition of an extrasheet. It all presaged prosperity. Yes, he was satisfied. And yet--
He turned again and looked at the girl. This time he caught her watchinghim. Evidently she had been watching him for a long time for her gazewas fixed and meditative, as though she had been studying him. Shestarted and blushed when he turned and caught her, looking down insudden and complete confusion. But she looked up again instantly,meeting his gaze steadily, her lips in a frank smile.
"You have been thinking of this country," she said.
"You have guessed it," he returned gravely and gently; "I have beenthinking of this country--and its people." He smiled at her, his eyesshining with a light that caused hers to waver and droop. "But how didyou discover that?" he questioned. "I was not aware that I had beenspeaking my thoughts."
"Do you think it is always necessary to speak?" she answered, looking athim with a quiet smile. "Don't you think there are times when one'sthoughts find expression in one's eyes? When we can not conceal them--nomatter how hard we try? I know that you were thinking of the country,"she went on earnestly, "because a few moments ago I had been thinking ofit too and I know that my emotions were exactly the same as thoseexpressed in your eyes. It is magnificent, isn't it?" she said in anawed, eager voice. "It is so big, so mighty, so soul-stirring. Itallures with its vastness, it dazzles with its beauty; it makes one feelcloser to the Creator, even while pressing home a disquieting sense ofone's own insignificance.
"For instance," she went on, her eyes large and luminous, a new, quietcolor coming into her face "there are times when our tasks seemstupendous, when we are filled with an overpowering consciousness of theimportance of them; when we feel that we are carrying such a burden thatthe addition of another would make the load too heavy. Then we look uponGod's work and immediately a still, small voice within us cries: 'Whathave ye done in comparison to this?' And what have we done?" shesuddenly demanded.
"Nothing," he returned gravely, awed by this fleeting illuminatingglimpse into her soul.
She leaned back into her chair with a smile. "Those were the things Iwas thinking about. And you, too, were thinking of them," she added."Now, don't deny it!" she warned, "for I saw it in your eyes!"
"No!" he said with a quick smile; "I don't deny it. But I was thinkingof the people also."
"Oh, the people!" she said with a frown.
"Perhaps I should have said 'person,'" he modified with a quick glanceat her, under which her eyes drooped in swift confusion--as they haddrooped on another occasion which he remembered.
"Oh!" she said merely.
"I have been comparing this person to God's other works," he said, alight in his eyes which told that the former decision to postpone anattempt to uncover the mystery had been ruthlessly put aside, "and Ihave come to the conclusion that in spite of the infinite care he tookin forming the beautiful world out yonder he did not neglect this personto whom I refer."
Her eyes met his in a glance of swift comprehension. She drew a slow,deep breath and averted her face, which was now crimson.
"As you have been able to illustrate man's insignificance in comparisonto God's mighty creations, so has my own inferiority been forced upon meby my attempting to compare myself to the sweet character of the personof whom I speak," said Hollis, his voice low and earnest. "It has been aquestion whether--when I speak to her of a thing which has been on mymind for many days--she could not with justice paraphrase the questionasked by t
he still, small voice and say: What have you done to deservethis? And I should have to reply--nothing." He had moved closer to her,leaning forward to look into her eyes.
She sat very still, her gaze on the basin. "Perhaps this very estimableperson holds other views?" she returned, with a flash of mischief in hereyes. She turned suddenly and looked straight at him, meeting his gazeunwaveringly, a demure smile on her face. "I told you that sometimes aperson's thoughts were expressed in their eyes," she said--and now herlashes flickered--"perhaps you can tell what my thoughts are?"
It was a challenge, a defiance, and an unconditional surrender. Like aflash one of Hollis's arms went out--she was drawn, vainly protesting,toward him.
"You haven't answered," she laughed, in a smothered voice; "you are notcertain----"
She did not finish the sentence. Mrs. Norton, coming to the door for abreath of fresh air, halted on the threshold, looked, smiled, and thenquietly--very quietly--slipped back into the house.
Away out over the basin a Mexican eagle circled, winging his slow waythrough the golden sunshine of the afternoon. Miles away the mountainpeaks rose somberly, a mysterious, golden halo rising slowly above them.Perhaps there would always be mystery in the mountains, but a certainmystery that had troubled Hollis mightily had been successfully solved.The gods had favored him.
The Coming of the Law Page 26
