"A grizzly,by the living Jingo!Shot through the heart."It was true.The strange shape lit up by the flaring torches seemed more vague,unearthly,and awkward in its dying throes,yet the small shut eyes,the feeble nose,the ponderous shoulders,and half-human foot armed with powerful claws were unmistakable.The men turned by a common impulse and peered into the remote recesses of the wood again.
"Hi,Mister!come and pick up your game.Hallo there!"The challenge fell unheeded on the empty woods.
"And yet,"said he whom the woman had called the sheriff,"he can't be far off.It was a close shot,and the bear hez dropped in his tracks.Why,wot's this sticking in his claws?"The two men bent over the animal."Why,it's sugar,brown sugar--look!"There was no mistake.The huge beast's fore paws and muzzle were streaked with the unromantic household provision,and heightened the absurd contrast of its incongruous members.The woman,apparently indifferent,had taken that opportunity to partly free one of her wrists.
"If we hadn't been cavorting round this yer spot for the last half hour,I'd swear there was a shanty not a hundred yards away,"said the sheriff.
The other man,without replying,remounted his horse instantly.
"If there is,and it's inhabited by a gentleman that kin make centre shots like that in the dark,and don't care to explain how,I reckon I won't disturb him."The sheriff was apparently of the same opinion,for he followed his companion's example,and once more led the way.The spurs tinkled,the torches danced,and the cavalcade slowly reentered the gloom.In another moment it had disappeared.
The wood sank again into repose,this time disturbed by neither shape nor sound.What lower forms of life might have crept close to its roots were hidden in the ferns,or passed with deadened tread over the bark-strewn floor.Towards morning a coolness like dew fell from above,with here and there a dropping twig or nut,or the crepitant awakening and stretching-out of cramped and weary branches.Later a dull,lurid dawn,not unlike the last evening's sunset,filled the aisles.This faded again,and a clear gray light,in which every object stood out in sharp distinctness,took its place.Morning was waiting outside in all its brilliant,youthful coloring,but only entered as the matured and sobered day.
Seen in that stronger light,the monstrous tree near which the dead bear lay revealed its age in its denuded and scarred trunk,and showed in its base a deep cavity,a foot or two from the ground,partly hidden by hanging strips of bark which had fallen across it.Suddenly one of these strips was pushed aside,and a young man leaped lightly down.
But for the rifle he carried and some modern peculiarities of dress,he was of a grace so unusual and unconventional that he might have passed for a faun who was quitting his ancestral home.
He stepped to the side of the bear with a light elastic movement that was as unlike customary progression as his face and figure were unlike the ordinary types of humanity.Even as he leaned upon his rifle,looking down at the prostrate animal,he unconsciously fell into an attitude that in any other mortal would have been a pose,but with him was the picturesque and unstudied relaxation of perfect symmetry.
"Hallo,Mister!"
He raised his head so carelessly and listlessly that he did not otherwise change his attitude.Stepping from behind the tree,the woman of the preceding night stood before him.Her hands were free except for a thong of the riata,which was still knotted around one wrist,the end of the thong having been torn or burnt away.Her eyes were bloodshot,and her hair hung over her shoulders in one long black braid.
"I reckoned all along it was YOU who shot the bear,"she said;"at least some one hiding yer,"and she indicated the hollow tree with her hand."It wasn't no chance shot."Observing that the young man,either from misconception or indifference,did not seem to comprehend her,she added,"We came by here,last night,a minute after you fired.""Oh,that was YOU kicked up such a row,was it?"said the young man,with a shade of interest.
"I reckon,"said the woman,nodding her head,"and them that was with me.""And who are they?"
"Sheriff Dunn,of Yolo,and his deputy."
"And where are they now?"
"The deputy--in h-ll,I reckon;I don't know about the sheriff.""I see,"said the young man quietly;"and you?""I--got away,"she said savagely.But she was taken with a sudden nervous shiver,which she at once repressed by tightly dragging her shawl over her shoulders and elbows,and folding her arms defiantly.
"And you're going?"
"To follow the deputy,may be,"she said gloomily."But come,Isay,ain't you going to treat?It's cursed cold here.""Wait a moment."The young man was looking at her,with his arched brows slightly knit and a half smile of curiosity."Ain't you Teresa?"She was prepared for the question,but evidently was not certain whether she would reply defiantly or confidently.After an exhaustive scrutiny of his face she chose the latter,and said,"You can bet your life on it,Johnny.""I don't bet,and my name isn't Johnny.Then you're the woman who stabbed Dick Curson over at Lagrange's?"She became defiant again.
"That's me,all the time.What are you going to do about it?""Nothing.And you used to dance at the Alhambra?"She whisked the shawl from her shoulders,held it up like a scarf,and made one or two steps of the sembicuacua.There was not the least gayety,recklessness,or spontaneity in the action;it was simply mechanical bravado.It was so ineffective,even upon her own feelings,that her arms presently dropped to her side,and she coughed embarrassedly."Where's that whiskey,pardner?"she asked.