did not seem to be of her body. And she sat down in the shade and
tried to think. She saw a creeping lizard, cactus flowers, the
drooping burros, the resting dogs, an eagle high over a yellow
crag. Once the meanest flower, a color, the flight of the bee, or
any living thing had given her deepest joy. Lassiter had gone
off, yielding to his incurable blood lust, probably to his own
death; and she was sorry, but there was no feeling in her sorrow.
Suddenly from the mouth of the canyon just beyond her rang out a
clear, sharp report of a rifle. Echoes clapped. Then followed a
piercingly high yell of anguish, quickly breaking. Again echoes
clapped, in grim imitation. Dull revolver shots--hoarse
yells--pound of hoofs--shrill neighs of horses--commingling of
echoes--and again silence! Lassiter must be busily engaged,
thought Jane, and no chill trembled over her, no blanching
tightened her skin. Yes, the border was a bloody place. But life
had always been bloody. Men were blood-spillers. Phases of the
history of the world flashed through her mind--Greek and Roman
wars, dark, mediaeval times, the crimes in the name of religion.
On sea, on land, everywhere--shooting, stabbing, cursing,
clashing, fighting men! Greed, power, oppression, fanaticism,
love, hate, revenge, justice, freedom--for these, men killed one
another.
She lay there under the cedars, gazing up through the delicate
lacelike foliage at the blue sky, and she thought and wondered
and did not care.
More rattling shots disturbed the noonday quiet. She heard a
sliding of weathered rock, a hoarse shout of warning, a yell of
alarm, again the clear, sharp crack of the rifle, and another cry
that was a cry of death. Then rifle reports pierced a dull volley
of revolver shots. Bullets whizzed over Jane's hiding-place; one
struck a stone and whined away in the air. After that, for a
time, succeeded desultory shots; and then they ceased under long,
thundering fire from heavier guns.
Sooner or later, then, Jane heard the cracking of horses' hoofs
on the stones, and the sound came nearer and nearer. Silence
intervened until Lassiter's soft, jingling step assured her of
his approach. When he appeared he was covered with blood.
"All right, Jane," he said. "I come back. An' don't worry."
With water from a canteen he washed the blood from his face and
hands.
"Jane, hurry now. Tear my scarf in two, en' tie up these places.
That hole through my hand is some inconvenient, worse 'n this at
over my ear. There--you're doin' fine! Not a bit nervous--no
tremblin'. I reckon I ain't done your courage justice. I'm glad
you're brave jest now--you'll need to be. Well, I was hid pretty
good, enough to keep them from shootin' me deep, but they was
slingin' lead close all the time. I used up all the rifle shells,
an' en I went after them. Mebbe you heard. It was then I got hit.
Had to use up every shell in my own gun, an' they did, too, as I
seen. Rustlers an' Mormons, Jane! An' now I'm packin' five bullet