The Call Of The Canyon - Zane Grey (easy readers TXT) 📗
- Author: Zane Grey
Book online «The Call Of The Canyon - Zane Grey (easy readers TXT) 📗». Author Zane Grey
Sympathized! But She Had Only Been A Vain, Worldly, Complacent, Effusive
Little Fool. She Had Here The Shock Of Her Life, And She Sensed A Greater
One, Impossible To Grasp.
"Carley, That Was Coming To You," Said Glenn, Presently, With Deep, Heavy
Expulsion Of Breath.
"I Only Know I Love You--More--More," She Cried, Wildly, Looking Up And
Wanting Desperately To Throw Herself In His Arms.
"I Guess You Do--A Little," He Replied. "Sometimes I Feel You Are A Kid.
Then Again You Represent The World--Your World With Its Age-Old Custom--Its
Unalterable. . . . But, Carley, Let's Get Back To My Work."
Chapter 7 Pg 119
"Yes--Yes," Exclaimed Carley, Gladly. "I'm Ready To--To Go Pet Your Hogs
--Anything."
"By George! I'll Take You Up," He Declared. "I'll Bet You Won't Go Near One
Of My Hogpens."
"Lead Me To It!" She Replied, With A Hilarity That Was Only A Nervous
Reversion Of Her State.
"Well, Maybe I'd Better Hedge On The Bet," He Said, Laughing Again. "You
Have More In You Than I Suspect. You Sure Fooled Me When You Stood For The
Sheep-Dip. But, Come On, I'll Take You Anyway."
So That Was How Carley Found Herself Walking Arm In Arm With Glenn Down The
Canyon Trail. A Few Moments Of Action Gave Her At Least An Appearance Of
Outward Composure. And The State Of Her Emotion Was So Strained And Intense
That Her Slightest Show Of Interest Must Deceive Glenn Into Thinking Her
Eager, Responsive, Enthusiastic. It Certainly Appeared To Loosen His
Tongue. But Carley Knew She Was Farther From Normal Than Ever Before In Her
Life, And That The Subtle, Inscrutable Woman's Intuition Of Her Presaged
Another Shock. Just As She Had Seemed To Change, So Had The Aspects Of The
Canyon Undergone Some Illusive Transformation. The Beauty Of Green Foliage
And Amber Stream And Brown Tree Trunks And Gray Rocks And Red Walls Was
There; And The Summer Drowsiness And Languor Lay As Deep; And The
Loneliness And Solitude Brooded With Its Same Eternal Significance. But
Some Nameless Enchantment, Perhaps Of Hope, Seemed No Longer To Encompass
Her. A Blow Had Fallen Upon Her, The Nature Of Which Only Time Could
Divulge.
Glenn Led Her Around The Clearing And Up To The Base Of The West Wall,
Where Against A Shelving Portion Of The Cliff Had Been Constructed A Rude
Fence Of Poles. It Formed Three Sides Of A Pen, And The Fourth Side Was
Solid Rock. A Bushy Cedar Tree Stood In The Center. Water Flowed From Under
The Cliff, Which Accounted For The Boggy Condition Of The Red Earth. This
Pen Was Occupied By A Huge Sow And A Litter Of Pigs.
Carley Climbed On The Fence And Sat There While Glenn Leaned Over The Top
Pole And Began To Wax Eloquent On A Subject Evidently Dear To His Heart.
Today Of All Days Carley Made An Inspiring Listener. Even The Shiny, Muddy,
Suspicious Old Sow In No Wise Daunted Her Fictitious Courage. That Filthy
Chapter 7 Pg 120Pen Of Mud A Foot Deep, And Of Odor Rancid, Had No Terrors For Her. With An
Arm Round Glenn's Shoulder She Watched The Rooting And Squealing Little
Pigs, And Was Amused And Interested, As If They Were Far Removed From The
Vital Issue Of The Hour. But All The Time As She Looked And Laughed, And
Encouraged Glenn To Talk, There Seemed To Be A Strange, Solemn, Oppressive
Knocking At Her Heart. Was It Only The Beat-Beat-Beat Of Blood?
"There Were Twelve Pigs In That Litter," Glenn Was Saying, "And Now You See
There Are Only Nine. I've Lost Three. Mountain Lions, Bears, Coyotes, Wild
Cats Are All Likely To Steal A Pig. And At First I Was Sure One Of These
Varmints Had Been Robbing Me. But As I Could Not Find Any Tracks, I Knew I
Had To Lay The Blame On Something Else. So I Kept Watch Pretty Closely In
Daytime, And At Night I Shut The Pigs Up In The Corner There, Where You See
I've Built A Pen. Yesterday I Heard Squealing--And, By George! I Saw An
Eagle Flying Off With One Of My Pigs. Say, I Was Mad. A Great Old
Bald-Headed Eagle--The Regal Bird You See With America's Stars And Stripes
Had Degraded Himself To The Level Of A Coyote. I Ran For My Rifle, And I
Took Some Quick Shots At Him As He Flew Up. Tried To Hit Him, Too, But I
Failed. And The Old Rascal Hung On To My Pig. I Watched Him Carry It To
That Sharp Crag Way Up There On The Rim."
"Poor Little Piggy!" Exclaimed Carley. "To Think Of Our American Emblem--Our
Stately Bird Of Noble Warlike Mien--Our Symbol Of Lonely Grandeur And
Freedom Of The Heights--Think Of Him Being A Robber Of Pigpens!--Glenn, I
Begin To Appreciate The Many-Sidedness Of Things. Even My Hide-Bound
Narrowness Is Susceptible To Change. It's Never Too Late To Learn. This
Should Apply To The Society For The Preservation Of The American Eagle."
Glenn Led Her Along The Base Of The Wall To Three Other Pens, In Each Of
Which Was A Fat Old Sow With A Litter. And At The Last Enclosure, That
Owing To Dry Soil Was Not So Dirty, Glenn Picked Up A Little Pig And Held
It Squealing Out To Carley As She Leaned Over The Fence. It Was Fairly
White And Clean, A Little Pink And Fuzzy, And Certainly Cute With Its
Curled Tall.
"Carley Burch, Take It In Your Hands," Commanded Glenn.
The Feat Seemed Monstrous And Impossible Of Accomplishment For Carley. Yet
Such Was Her Temper At The Moment That She Would Have Undertaken Anything.
Chapter 7 Pg 121
"Why, Shore I Will, As Flo Says," Replied Carley, Extending Her Ungloved
Hands. "Come Here, Piggy. I Christen You Pinky." And Hiding An Almost
Insupportable Squeamishness From Glenn, She Took The Pig In Her Hands And
Fondled It.
"By George!" Exclaimed Glenn, In Huge Delight. "I Wouldn't Have Believed
It. Carley, I Hope You Tell Your Fastidious And Immaculate Morrison That
You Held One Of My Pigs In Your Beautiful Hands."
"Wouldn't It Please You More To Tell Him Yourself?" Asked Carley.
"Yes, It Would," Declared Glenn, Grimly.
This Incident Inspired Glenn To A Homeric Narration Of His Hog-Raising
Experience. In Spite Of Herself The Content Of His Talk Interested Her. And
As For The Effect Upon Her Of His Singular Enthusiasm, It Was Deep And
Compelling. The Little-Boned Berkshire Razorback Hogs Grew So Large And Fat
And Heavy That Their Bones Broke Under Their Weight. The Duroc Jerseys Were
The Best Breed In That Latitude, Owing To Their Larger And Stronger Bones,
That Enabled Them To Stand Up Under The Greatest Accumulation Of Fat.
Glenn Told Of His Droves Of Pigs Running Wild In The Canyon Below. In
Summertime They Fed Upon Vegetation, And At Other Seasons On Acorns, Roots,
Bugs, And Grubs. Acorns, Particularly, Were Good And Fattening Feed. They
Ate Cedar And Juniper Berries, And Pinyon Nuts. And Therefore They Lived
Off The Land, At Little Or No Expense To The Owner. The Only Loss Was From
Beasts And Birds Of Prey. Glenn Showed Carley How A Profitable Business
Could Soon Be Established. He Meant To Fence Off Side Canyons And To
Segregate Droves Of His Hogs, And To Raise Abundance Of Corn For Winter
Feed. At That Time There Was A Splendid Market For Hogs, A Condition Hutter
Claimed Would Continue Indefinitely In A Growing Country. In Conclusion
Glenn Eloquently Told How In His Necessity He Had Accepted Gratefully The
Humblest Of Labors, To Find In The Hard Pursuit Of It A Rejuvenation Of
Body And Mind, And A Promise Of Independence And Prosperity.
When He Had Finished, And Excused Himself To Go Repair A Weak Place In The
Corral Fence, Carley Sat Silent, Wrapped In Strange Meditation.
Whither Had Faded The Vulgarity And Ignominy She Had Attached To Glenn's
Raising Of Hogs? Gone--Like Other Miasmas Of Her Narrow Mind! Partly She
Understood Him Now. She Shirked Consideration Of His Sacrifice To His
Country. That Must Wait. But She Thought Of His Work, And The More She
Thought The Less She Wondered.
Chapter 7 Pg 122
First He Had Labored With His Hands. What Infinite Meaning Lay Unfolding To
Her Vision! Somewhere Out Of It All Came The Conception That Man Was
Intended To Earn His Bread By The Sweat Of His Brow. But There Was More To
It Than That. By That Toil And Sweat, By The Friction Of Horny Palms, By
The Expansion And Contraction Of Muscle, By The Acceleration Of Blood,
Something Great And Enduring, Something Physical And Spiritual, Came To A
Man. She Understood Then Why She Would Have Wanted To Surrender Herself To
A Man Made Manly By Toil; She Understood How A Woman Instinctively Leaned
Toward The Protection Of A Man Who Had Used His Hands--Who Had Strength And
Red Blood And Virility Who Could Fight Like The Progenitors Of The Race.
Any Toil Was Splendid That Served This End For Any Man. It All Went Back To
The Survival Of The Fittest. And Suddenly Carley Thought Of Morrison. He
Could Dance And Dangle Attendance Upon Her, And Amuse Her--But How Would He
Have Acquitted Himself In A Moment Of Peril? She Had Her Doubts. Most
Assuredly He Could Not Have Beaten Down For Her A Ruffian Like Haze Ruff.
What Then Should Be The Significance Of A Man For A Woman?
Carley's Querying And Answering Mind Reverted To Glenn. He Had Found A
Secret In This Seeking For Something Through The Labor Of Hands. All
Development Of Body Must Come Through Exercise Of Muscles. The Virility Of
Cell In Tissue And Bone Depended Upon That. Thus He Had Found In Toil The
Pleasure
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