lla.thelonelymen-第12部分

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y　fingers　clutched　only　hair　。。。then　it　was　gone！
　Battles　sat　up。　〃Tell？　What　is　it？〃
　〃A　ghost；　I　think。〃　I　spoke　softly。　〃Whatever　it　is；　I　wish　it　would　believe　we're　not　enemies。〃　But　whatever　it　was；　was　gone。　A　couple　of　hours　later；　by　the　light　of　day；　we　found　tracks　enough。　Tip　toe　tracks　of　a　small　foot　I　felt　a　shudder　go　through　me；　and　Rocca　noticed　it。　〃What？〃　he　said。　〃You　are　afraid？〃
　〃I　was　remembering　。。。　someone　who　is　gone；〃　I　said。　〃But　these　tracks　are　not　hers。　They　are　small；　like　hers；　and　the　steps　are　quick；　like　hers　。。。　but　she　is　dead。〃
　Tampico　Rocca　crossed　himself。　〃She　haunts　you？〃
　〃No　。。。　it　is　only　a　memory。　Her　name　was　Ange；　and　I　found　her　trail　first；　like　this。　I　lost　her　again；　like　this。　But　Ange　is　dead。　She　was　murdered；〃　I　said；　〃up　in　the　Mogollon　country。〃
　〃Ah！〃　That　was　Spanish。　〃You　are　that　Sackett！〃　He　looked　at　me　thoughtfully。　〃I　heard　talk　of　it。　I　was　in　Cherry　Creek　then；　but　everybody　knew　the　story　。。。　and　how　your　family　came　to　help。〃
　He　looked　at　me　over　the　tip　of　his　cigarette；　and　I　could　guess　what　he　was　thinking。　In　the　western　lands　where　all　news　came　by　word　of　mouth；　men　quickly　became　legend；　they　became　larger　than　life。　It　was　so　with　Ben　Thompson；　Wild　Bill；　Mike　Fink；　or　Davy　Crockett。　The　stories　grew　with　telling。
　〃The　boy　we're　hunting；〃　I　said；　〃is　my　brother　Orrin's　boy。　Orrin　was　one　of　them　who　rode　to　the　Mogollon。〃
　〃I　never　had　a　family；〃　Spanish　said。　〃I　was　always　alone。〃
　John　J。　tamped　tobacco　into　his　pipe。　〃Most　men　are　alone；〃　he　said。　〃We　e　into　life　alone；　we　face　our　worst　troubles　alone；　and　we　are　alone　when　we　die。〃
　〃It　was　the　girl　we　tracked；〃　I　said。　I'd　been　looking　around　while　we　talked。　〃She　needed　grub。　She's　taken　some　bread　and　some　dried　apples；　and　maybe　a　little　jerky。〃
　And　then　we　were　quiet　again。
　We　knew　what　we　had　to　do；　and　the　waiting　was　hard；　for　we　were　men　who　preferred　action。　Our　way　of　life　had　been　to　act　。。。　there　was　rarely　need　for　contemplation。　We　were　men　who　moved　swiftly；　surely；　and　we　lived　or　died　by　the　success　of　our　movement。　So　to　wait　now　came　hard。　To　wander　in　the　mountains　added　to　our　danger；　and　to　wait　here　was　risk；　but　a　man　who　does　not　move　leaves　no　tracks。
　So　we　watched　and　waited；　for　it　was　all　we　could　do；　and　even　just　watching　worried　me　for　men　who　are　being　watched　bee　aware　of　it。
　The　white　boy　we　had　seen　appeared　again；　more　than　once；　but　always　with　Indian　boys　around　him。　And　then；　after　another　long　day　of　watching；　I　saw　him　take　a　spear　and　go　alone　along　a　trail　between　some　rocks。　Like　a　cat　I　was　off　the　rock　where　I　watched；　nodding　to　Rocca　as　I　passed　him。
　Spanish　went　up　to　watch　from　where　I　had　been；　and　John　J。　went　to　the　horses　…　we　saddled　them　each　morning　…　to　be　ready　in　case　of　need。
　Tampico　Rocca　was　a　ghost　on　the　trail；　moving　without　sound。　We　snaked　down　among　the　rocks；　crawled　over　great　boulders；　and　came　down　to　where　we　could　await　the　boy。
　Was　he　changed？　Had　he　bee　an　Apache？　If　so；　he　would　shout　when　he　saw　us。
　Only　he　had　no　chance。　Soundlessly　Rocca　dropped　to　the　trail　behind　him；　put　one　hand　over　the　boy's　mouth；　and　lifted　him　into　the　brush；　where　we　crouched。
　He　looked　wild…eyed　with　fright；　then　seeing　we　were　white　men　he　tried　to　speak。　Slowly　Rocca　took　his　hand　from　his　mouth。
　〃Take　me　away！〃　he　whispered。　〃My　name　is　Brook。　Harry　Brook。〃
　〃How　long　have　they　had　you？〃
　〃Two　years；　I　think。　Maybe　not　that　long；　but　a　long　time。〃
　〃Where　are　the　other　white　children？　The　Creeds　and　Orry　Sackett。〃
　〃The　Creeds？　I　have　heard　of　them。　They　are　in　the　next　rancheria。〃　He　pointed。　〃Over　there。〃
　〃And　the　Sackett　boy？〃
　〃I　do　not　know。　I　never　heard　of　another　boy。　There　is　a　girl　with　the　Creed　boys；　but　she　is　only　five　。。。　very　small。〃
　Well　。。。　something　seemed　to　drain　away　inside　me。　Had　they　killed　him　then？　Had　they　killed　Orrin's　son？　Battles　asked　the　question。
　〃Nobody　was　killed；〃　the　boys　said。　〃I　was　in　camp　when　they　brought　them　in；　the　Creed　boys　and　the　girl。〃
　Squatting　down　on　my　heels；　I　asked；　〃Can　you　get　to　those　others？　I　mean；　will　you　ever　see　them？〃
　〃You　ain't　takin'　me　along　with　you？〃　There　were　tears　in　his　eyes。
　〃Not　right　now。　Look；　if　we　took　you　now　we'd　have　to　run；　wouldn't　we？　All　right；　we　leave　you　here。　You　be　ready。〃　I　pointed　toward　a　high　rock。　〃Can　you　see　that　from　camp？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃All　right　。。。　when　you　see　a　black　rock　atop　that；　you　e　to　this　place；　right　here。　We've　got　to　get　those　other　youngsters。〃
　〃You'll　get　killed。　They're　in　Kahtenny's　rancheria。〃
　〃Kahtenny？　He's　alive；　then？〃
　〃He　sure　is。　An'　all　them　Apaches　yonder　take　a　back　seat　for　him。　He's　a　big　man　among　'em。〃
　We　left　him　then；　worried　for　fear　the　Apaches　would　e　scouting　to　see　what　he　was　doing。　They　trusted　no　prisoner；　even　if　he　seemed　to　accept　their　ways。　Only　thing　was；　they　didn't　figure　anybody　could　get　away　from　the　Sierra　Madres　。。。　or　that　anybody　would　dare　e　in　after　them。
　The　first　thing　I　did　was　hunt　a　piece　of　black　lava　rock　to　use　when　the　time　came。　I　placed　it　handy　under　a　bush；　and　we　went　back；　mounted　up；　and　followed　a　trail　out　of　there；　skirting　a　cliff　that　fell　away　so　sharply　you　felt　as　if　you　rode　on　a　piece　of　molding　along　a　wall。
　That　boy　back　there　。。。　could　he　keep　them　from　knowing？　That　troubled　me　some。
　There　was　small　chance　he　could　get　to　the　other　youngsters；　but　there　was　some　visiting　back　and　forth　。。。　it　could　be。
　But　where　was　Orry　Sackett？　Where　was　my　brother's　son？
　
　Chapter　7
　
　Through　the　chill　dawn　we　climbed　toward　the　high　peaks；　weaving　our　way　among　trees　that　dripped　with　moisture　from　the　low…hanging　clouds。　Then　we　descended　several　hundred　feet　into　a　secluded　park　ringed　with　splendid　pines。　On　the　far　side　a　cold；　clear　stream　fell　over　a　limestone　ledge　into　a　deep　pool。
　In　every　sheltered　spot　there　were　ruins　。。。　ancient　ruins；　half　buried　in　earth　or　an　overgrowth　of　brush　or　moss。　In　one　place　a　gnarled　and　twisted　cedar　grew　inside　a　wall；　a　cedar　that　itself　must　have　been　hundreds　of　years　old。
　I　questioned　Rocca；　and　he　shrugged。　〃Who　knows？　They　were　the　People　Who　Came　Before；　and　they　were　gone　before　the　Apaches　came。〃
　He　was　only　mildly　curious。　〃Many　peoples　have　e　and　gone。　It　is　the　way　of　the　world。　The　People　of　the　Stone　Houses　。。。　the　people　who　built　the　cliff　dwellings　in　Arizona　and　Colorado。　They　were　driven　out　by　the　Navajo；　who　killed　many　of　them。
　〃The　white　man　has　driven　out　the　Indian；　but　the　Indian　drove　out　others　before；　and　those　others　had　driven　peoples　before　them。　It　is　always　the　same。　I　think　the　Indian　was　defeated　by　the　traders；　not　by　the　soldiers。〃
　〃How　so？〃　Battles　asked。
　〃The　traders　made　the　Indian　want　things　he　could　not　make　himself。　He　came　to　need　the　white　man；　to　depend　upon　him。　The　Indian　had　to　trade　or　steal　to　get　the　rifles　and　other　things　he　wanted　that　the　white　man　had。〃
　It　was　what　I　had　thought　myself。　Rocca　shrugged　again。　〃The　first　white　trader　who　came　to　the　Indians　brought　their　doom　in　his　pack。　I　think　it　is　so。〃
　We　were　silent　then。　We　came　to　a　fearful　slide　and　went　down　it；　our　horses　sliding　on　their　haunches　for　a　good　part　of　the　distance　to　the　bottom　of　a　gloomy　canyon；　through　which　ran　the　headwaters　of　the　Bavispe。　It　was　an　eerie；　haunted　spot；　and　I　swung　down；　standing　for　a　moment　with　both　hands　on　the　saddle；　listening。　But　there　was　no　sound　except　that　of　falling　water；　and　the　sighing　of　wind　among　the　pines。
　〃I　don't　like　it；〃　John　J。　said。　〃It　looks　like　the　dark　edge　of　hell。〃
　Me；　I　was　thinking　of　those　youngsters　among　the　Apaches；　so　strange　to　them；　so　frightening。　They　must　be　scared　stiff。　Yet　I　could　think　of　worse　things　than　living　out　a　life　in　these　mountains。　The　Sierra　Madres　were　beautiful。
　We　were　ing　close　now；　and　we　could　see　plenty　of　Apache　sign。　In　gloomy　places　like　this　a　body　always　had　the　feeling　of　being　watched。
　We　drank；　one　at　a　time；　with　the　others　watching　and　in　the　saddle。　We　crossed　the　river　then　and　went　up　a　switchback　trail　for　a　thousand　feet　toward　a