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作者:      更新:2021-02-21 14:21      字数:9322
  WYOMING:A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
  WYOMING
  A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
  William MacLeod Raine
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  WYOMING:A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
  CHAPTER 1。 A DESERT
  MEETING
  An   automobile   shot   out   from   a   gash   in   the   hills   and   slipped   swiftly
  down to the butte。 Here it came to a halt on the white; dusty road; while its
  occupant      gazed   with   eager;   unsated    eyes   on   the  great   panorama     that
  stretched   before   her。  The   earth   rolled   in   waves   like   a   mighty   sea   to   the
  distant   horizon   line。   From   a   wonderful   blue   sky   poured   down   upon   the
  land a bath of sunbeat。 The air was like wine; pure and strong; and above
  the desert swam the rare; untempered light of Wyoming。 Surely here was a
  peace primeval; a silence unbroken since the birth of creation。
  It was all new to her; and wonderfully exhilarating。 The infinite roll of
  plain; the distant shining mountains; the multitudinous voices of the desert
  drowned in a sunlit sea of spacethey were all details of the situation that
  ministered to a large serenity。
  And while she breathed deeply the satisfaction of it; an exploding rifle
  echo    shattered    the  stillness。  With    excited   sputtering    came    the  prompt
  answer of a fusillade。 She was new to the West; but some instinct stronger
  than reason told the girl that here was no playful puncher shooting up the
  scenery to ventilate his exuberance。 Her imagination conceived something
  more   deadly;   a   sinister   picture   of   men   pumping   lead   in   a   grim;   close…
  lipped silence; a lusty plainsman; with murder in his heart; crumpling into
  a lifeless heap; while the thin smoke…spiral curled from his hot rifle。
  So the girl imagined the scene as she ran swiftly forward through the
  pines to the edge of the butte bluff whence she might look down upon the
  coulee   that   nestled   against   it。   Nor   had   she   greatly   erred;   for   her   first
  sweeping glance showed her the thing she had dreaded。
  In a semicircle; well back from the foot of the butte; half a dozen men
  crouched      in  the   cover    of  the   sage…brush     and   a   scattered   group    of
  cottonwoods。 They were perhaps fifty yards apart; and the attention of all
  of them was focused on a spot directly beneath her。 Even as she looked; in
  that first swift moment of apprehension; a spurt of smoke came from one
  of the rifles and was flung back from the forked pine at the bottom of the
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  WYOMING:A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
  mesa。 She saw him then; kneeling behind his insufficient shelter; a trapped
  man making his last stand。
  》From   where   she   stood   the   girl   distinguished   him   very   clearly;   and
  under   the   field…glasses   that   she   turned   on   him   the   details   leaped   to   life。
  Tall; strong; slender; with the lean; clean build of a greyhound; he seemed
  as wary and alert as a panther。 The broad; soft hat; the scarlet handkerchief
  loosely     knotted     about    his   throat;   the   gray   shirt;   spurs   and    overalls;
  proclaimed him a stockman; just as his dead horse at the entrance to the
  coulee  told   of   an   accidental   meeting   in   the   desert   and   a   hurried   run   for
  cover。
  That he   had no   chance   was   quite plain;  but   no plainer than the   cool
  vigilance with which he proposed to make them pay。 Even in the matter of
  defense he was worse off than they were; but he knew how to make the
  most     of   what    he  had;    knew    how     to  avail   himself    of   every    inch   of
  sagebrush that helped to render him indistinct to their eyes。
  One of the attackers; eager for a clearer shot; exposed himself a trifle
  too   far   in   taking   aim。   Without   any   loss   of   time   in   sighting;   swift   as   a
  lightning…flash;   the   rifle   behind   the   forked   pine   spoke。   That   the   bullet
  reached   its   mark   she   saw   with   a   gasp   of   dismay。   For   the   man   suddenly
  huddled down and rolled over on his side。
  His comrades appeared to take warning by this example。 The men at
  both ends of the crescent fell back; and for a minute the girl's heart leaped
  with the hope that they were about to abandon the siege。 Apparently the
  man   in    the   scarlet   kerchief    had   no   such   expectation。     He    deserted    his
  position   behind   the   pine   and   ran   back;   crouching   low   in   the   brush;   to
  another little clump of trees closer to the bluff。 The reason for this was at
  first not apparent to her; but she understood presently when the men who
  had fallen back behind the rolling hillocks appeared again well in to the
  edge   of the   bluff。  Only  by  his   timely  retreat had   the   man   saved   himself
  from being outflanked。
  It was very plain that the attackers meant to take their time to finish
  him   in   perfect   safety。   He   was   surrounded   on   every   side   by   a   cordon   of
  rifles; except where the bare face of the butte hung down behind him。 To
  attempt to scale it would have been to expose himself as a mark for every
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  WYOMING:A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
  gun to certain death。
  It   was   now   that   she   heard   the   man   who   seemed   to   be   directing   the
  attack   call   out   to   another   on   his   right。   She   was   too   far   to   make   out   the
  words; but their effect was clear to her。 He pointed to the brow of the butte
  above; and   a  puncher  in   white  woolen chaps  dropped back   out   of   range
  and swung to the saddle upon one of the ponies bunched in the rear。 He
  cantered round in a wide circle and made for the butte。 His purpose was
  obviously to catch their victim in the unprotected rear; and fire down upon
  him from above。
  The   young   woman   shouted   a   warning;   but   her   voice   failed   to   carry。
  For a moment she stood with her hands pressed together in despair; then
  turned and swiftly scudded to her machine。 She sprang in; swept forward;
  reached   the   rim   of   the   mesa;   and   plunged   down。   Never   before   had   she
  attempted so precarious a descent in such wild haste。 The car fairly leaped
  into space; and after it struck swayed dizzily as it shot down。 The girl hung
  on;   her   face   white   and   set;   the   pulse   in   her   temple   beating   wildly。   She
  could   do   nothing;   as   the   machine   rocked   down;   but   hope   against   many
  chances that instant destruction might be averted。
  Utterly beyond her control; the motor…car thundered down; reached the
  foot of the butte; and swept over a little hill in its wild flight。 She rushed
  by a mounted horseman in the thousandth part of a second。 She was still
  speeding      at   a  tremendous       velocity;    but   a  second     hill  reduced     this
  somewhat。 She had not yet recovered control of the machine; but; though
  her eyes instinctively followed the white road that flashed past; she again
  had photographed on her brain the scene of the turbid tragedy in which she
  was intervening。
  At the foot of the butte the road circled and dipped into the coulee。 She
  braced herself for the shock; but; though the wheels skidded till her heart
  was   in   her   throat;   the   automobile;   hanging   on   the   balance   of   disaster;
  swept round in safety。
  Her horn screamed an instant warning to the trapped man。 She could
  not see him; and for an instant her heart sank with the fear that they had
  killed him。 But she saw then that they were still firing; and she continued
  her honking invitation as the car leaped forward into the zone of spitting
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  bullets。
  By this time she was recovering control of the motor; and she dared
  not    let  her   attention   wander;     but   out  of   the   corner   of   her   eye   she
  appreciated       the   situation。   Temporarily;      out   of   sheer    amaze     at  this
  apparition from the blue; the guns ceased their sniping。 She became aware
  that   a  light   curly   head;   crouched     low   in  the  sage…brush;     was   moving
  rapidly   to   meet   her   at   right   angles;   and   in   doing   so   was   approaching
  directly the line of fire。 She could see him dodging to and fro as he moved
  forward; for the rifles were again barking。
  She was within two hundred yards of him; still going rapidly; but not
  wit