The Call Of The Canyon - Zane Grey (easy readers TXT) 📗

Thrilling Excitement Of The Moment. Glenn Saw Her

Gaining And Pressed His Mount To Greater Speed. Still He Could Not Draw

Away From Calico. Slowly The Little Mustang Gained. It Seemed To Carley

That Riding Him Required No Effort At All. And At Such Fast Pace,  With The

Wind Roaring In Her Ears,  The Walls Of Green Vague And Continuous In Her

Sight,  The Sting Of Pine Tips On Cheek And Neck,  The Yellow Road Streaming

Toward Her,  Under Her,  There Rose Out Of The Depths Of Her,  Out Of The

Tumult Of Her Breast,  A Sense Of Glorious Exultation. She Closed In On

Glenn. From The Flying Hoofs Of His Horse Shot Up Showers Of Damp Sand And

Gravel That Covered Carley's Riding Habit And Spattered In Her Face. She

Had To Hold Up A Hand Before Her Eyes. Perhaps This Caused Her To Lose

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Something Of Her Confidence,  Or Her Swing In The Saddle,  For Suddenly She

Realized She Was Not Riding Well. The Pace Was Too Fast For Her

Inexperience. But Nothing Could Have Stopped Her Then. No Fear Or

Awkwardness Of Hers Should Be Allowed To Hamper That Thoroughbred Mustang.

Carley Felt That Calico Understood The Situation; Or At Least He Knew He

Could Catch And Pass This Big Bay Horse,  And He Intended To Do It. Carley

Was Hard Put To It To Hang On And Keep The Flying Sand From Blinding Her.

 

When Calico Drew Alongside The Bay Horse And Brought Carley Breast To

Breast With Glenn,  And Then Inch By Inch Forged Ahead Of Him,  Carley Pealed

Out An Exultant Cry. Either It Frightened Calico Or Inspired Him,  For He

Shot Right Ahead Of Glenn's Horse. Then He Lost The Smooth,  Wonderful

Action. He Seemed Hurtling Through Space At The Expense Of Tremendous

Muscular Action. Carley Could Feel It. She Lost Her Equilibrium. She Seemed

Rushing Through A Blurred Green And Black Aisle Of The Forest With A Gale

In Her Face. Then,  With A Sharp Jolt,  A Break,  Calico Plunged To The Sand.

Carley Felt Herself Propelled Forward Out Of The Saddle Into The Air,  And

Down To Strike With A Sliding,  Stunning Force That Ended In Sudden Dark

Oblivion.

 

Upon Recovering Consciousness She First Felt A Sensation Of Oppression In

Her Chest And A Dull Numbness Of Her Whole Body. When She Opened Her Eyes

She Saw Glenn Bending Over Her,  Holding Her Head On His Knee. A Wet,  Cold,

Reviving Sensation Evidently Came From The Handkerchief With Which He Was

Mopping Her Face.

 

"Carley,  You Can't Be Hurt--Really!" He Was Ejaculating,  In Eager Hope. "It

Was Some Spill. But You Lit On The Sand And Slid. You Can't Be Hurt."

 

The Look Of His Eyes,  The Tone Of His Voice,  The Feel Of His Hands Were

Such That Carley Chose For A Moment To Pretend To Be Very Badly Hurt

Indeed. It Was Worth Taking A Header To Get So Much From Glenn Kilbourne.

But She Believed She Had Suffered No More Than A Severe Bruising And

Scraping.

 

"Glenn--Dear," She Whispered,  Very Low And Very Eloquently. "I Think--My

Back--Is Broken. . . . You'll Be Free--Soon."

 

Glenn Gave A Terrible Start And His Face Turned A Deathly White. He Burst

Out With Quavering,  Inarticulate Speech.

 

Carley Gazed Up At Him And Then Closed Her Eyes. She Could Not Look At Him

While Carrying On Such Deceit. Yet The Sight Of Him And The Feel Of Him

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Then Were Inexpressibly Blissful To Her. What She Needed Most Was Assurance

Of His Love. She Had It. Beyond Doubt,  Beyond Morbid Fancy,  The Truth Had

Proclaimed Itself,  Filling Her Heart With Joy.

 

Suddenly She Flung Her Arms Up Around His Neck. "Oh--Glenn! It Was Too Good

A Chance To Miss! . . . I'm Not Hurt A Bit."

Chapter 7 Pg 112

 

The Day Came When Carley Asked Mrs. Hutter: "Will You Please Put Up A Nice

Lunch For Glenn And Me? I'm Going To Walk Down To His Farm Where He's

Working,  And Surprise Him."

 

"That's A Downright Fine Idea," Declared Mrs. Hutter,  And Forthwith Bustled

Away To Comply With Carley's Request.

 

So Presently Carley Found Herself Carrying A Bountiful Basket On Her Arm,

Faring Forth On An Adventure That Both Thrilled And Depressed Her. Long

Before This Hour Something About Glenn's Work Had Quickened Her Pulse And

Given Rise To An Inexplicable Admiration. That He Was Big And Strong Enough

To Do Such Labor Made Her Proud; That He Might Want To Go On Doing It Made

Her Ponder And Brood.

 

The Morning Resembled One Of The Rare Eastern Days In June,  When The Air

Appeared Flooded By Rich Thick Amber Light. Only The Sun Here Was Hotter

And The Shade Cooler.

 

Carley Took To The Trail Below Where West Fork Emptied Its Golden-Green

Waters Into Oak Creek. The Red Walls Seemed To Dream And Wait Under The

Blaze Of The Sun; The Heat Lay Like A Blanket Over The Still Foliage; The

Birds Were Quiet; Only The Murmuring Stream Broke The Silence Of The

Canyon. Never Had Carley Felt More The Isolation And Solitude Of Oak Creek

Canyon. Far Indeed From The Madding Crowd! Only Carley's Stubbornness Kept

Her From Acknowledging The Sense Of Peace That Enveloped Her--That And The

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Consciousness Of Her Own Discontent. What Would It Be Like To Come To This

Canyon--To Give Up To Its Enchantments? That,  Like Many Another Disturbing

Thought,  Had To Go Unanswered,  To Be Driven Into The Closed Chambers Of

Carley's Mind,  There To Germinate Subconsciously,  And Stalk Forth Some Day

To Overwhelm Her.

 

The Trail Led Along The Creek,  Threading A Maze Of Bowlders,  Passing Into

The Shade Of Cottonwoods,  And Crossing Sun-Flecked Patches Of Sand.

Carley's Every Step Seemed To Become Slower. Regrets Were Assailing Her.

Long Indeed Had She Overstayed Her Visit To The West. She Must Not Linger

There Indefinitely. And Mingled With Misgiving Was A Surprise That She Had

Not Tired Of Oak Creek. In Spite Of All,  And Of The Dislike She Vaunted To

Herself,  The Truth Stared At Her--She Was Not Tired.

 

The Long-Delayed Visit To See Glenn Working On His Own Farm Must Result In

Her Talking To Him About His Work; And In A Way Not Quite Clear She

Regretted The Necessity For It. To Disapprove Of Glenn! She Received Faint

Intimations Of Wavering,  Of Uncertainty,  Of Vague Doubt. But These Were

Cried Down By The Dominant And Habitable Voice Of Her Personality.

 

Presently Through The Shaded And Shadowed Breadth Of The Belt Of Forest She

Saw Gleams Of A Sunlit Clearing. And Crossing This Space To The Border Of

Trees She Peered Forth,  Hoping To Espy Glenn At His Labors. She Saw An Old

Shack,  And Irregular Lines Of Rude Fence Built Of Poles Of All Sizes And

Shapes,  And Several Plots Of Bare Yellow Ground,  Leading Up Toward The West

Side Of The Canyon Wall. Could This Clearing Be Glenn's Farm? Surely She

Had Missed It Or Had Not Gone Far Enough. This Was Not A Farm,  But A Slash

In The Forested Level Of The Canyon Floor,  Bare And Somehow Hideous. Dead

Trees Were Standing In The Lots. They Had Been Ringed Deeply At The Base By

An Ax,  To Kill Them,  And So Prevent Their Foliage From Shading The Soil.

Carley Saw A Long Pile Of Rocks That Evidently Had Been Carried From The

Plowed Ground. There Was No Neatness,  No Regularity,  Although There Was

Abundant Evidence Of Toil. To Clear That Rugged Space,  To Fence It,  And

Plow It,  Appeared At Once To Carley An Extremely Strenuous And Useless

Task. Carley Persuaded Herself That This Must Be The Plot Of Ground Belonging

To The Herder Charley,  And She Was About To Turn On Down The Creek When

Far Up Under The Bluff She Espied A Man. He Was Stalking Along And Bending

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Down,  Stalking Along And Bending Down. She Recognized Glenn. He Was Planting

Something In The Yellow Soil.

 

Curiously Carley Watched Him,  And Did Not Allow Her Mind To Become

Concerned With A Somewhat Painful Swell Of Her Heart. What A Stride He Had!

How Vigorous He Looked,  And Earnest! He Was As Intent Upon This Job As If

He Had Been A Rustic. He Might Have Been Failing To Do It Well,  But He Most

Certainly Was Doing It Conscientiously. Once He Had Said To Her That A Man

Should Never Be Judged By The Result Of His Labors,  But By The Nature Of

His Effort. A Man Might Strive With All His Heart And Strength,  Yet Fail.

Carley Watched Him Striding Along And Bending Down,  Absorbed In His Task,

Unmindful Of The Glaring Hot Sun,  And Somehow To Her Singularly Detached

From The Life Wherein He Had Once Moved And To Which She Yearned To Take

Him Back. Suddenly An Unaccountable Flashing Query Assailed Her Conscience:

How Dare She