Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey (best novels in english txt) š
- Author: Zane Grey
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Venters prepared for the day, knowing himself a different man.
āItās a glorious morning,ā said Bess, in greeting.
āYes. After the storm the west wind,ā he replied.
āLast night was Iāvery much of a baby?ā she asked, watching him.
āPretty much.ā
āOh, I couldnāt help it!ā
āIām glad you were afraid.ā
āWhy?ā she asked, in slow surprise.
āIāll tell you some day,ā he answered, soberly. Then around the camp-fire and through the morning meal he was silent; afterward he strolled thoughtfully off alone along the terrace. He climbed a great yellow rock raising its crest among the spruces, and there he sat down to face the valley and the west.
āI love her!ā
Aloud he spokeāunburdened his heartāconfessed his secret. For an instant the golden valley swam before his eyes, and the walls waved, and all about him whirled with tumult within.
āI love her!... I understand now.ā
Reviving memory of Jane Withersteen and thought of the complications of the present amazed him with proof of how far he had drifted from his old life. He discovered that he hated to take up the broken threads, to delve into dark problems and difficulties. In this beautiful valley he had been living a beautiful dream. Tranquillity had come to him, and the joy of solitude, and interest in all the wild creatures and crannies of this incomparable valleyāand love. Under the shadow of the great stone bridge God had revealed Himself to Venters.
āThe world seems very far away,ā he muttered, ābut itās thereāand Iām not yet done with it. Perhaps I never shall be.... Onlyāhow glorious it would be to live here always and never think again!ā
Whereupon the resurging reality of the present, as if in irony of his wish, steeped him instantly in contending thought. Out of it all he presently evolved these things: he must go to Cottonwoods; he must bring supplies back to Surprise Valley; he must cultivate the soil and raise corn and stock, and, most imperative of all, he must decide the future of the girl who loved him and whom he loved. The first of these things required tremendous effort, the last one, concerning Bess, seemed simply and naturally easy of accomplishment. He would marry her. Suddenly, as from roots of poisonous fire, flamed up the forgotten truth concerning her. It seemed to wither and shrivel up all his joy on its hot, tearing way to his heart. She had been Oldringās Masked Rider. To Ventersās question, āWhat were you to Oldring?ā she had answered with scarlet shame and drooping head.
āWhat do I care who she is or what she was!ā he cried, passionately. And he knew it was not his old self speaking. It was this softer, gentler man who had awakened to new thoughts in the quiet valley. Tenderness, masterful in him now, matched the absence of joy and blunted the knife-edge of entering jealousy. Strong and passionate effort of will, surprising to him, held back the poison from piercing his soul.
āWait!... Wait!ā he cried, as if calling. His hand pressed his breast, and he might have called to the pang there. āWait! Itās all so strangeāso wonderful. Anything can happen. Who am I to judge her? Iāll glory in my love for her. But I canāt tell itācanāt give up to it.ā
Certainly he could not then decide her future. Marrying her was impossible in Surprise Valley and in any village south of Sterling. Even without the mask she had once worn she would easily have been recognized as Oldringās Rider. No man who had ever seen her would forget her, regardless of his ignorance as to her sex. Then more poignant than all other argument was the fact that he did not want to take her away from Surprise Valley. He resisted all thought of that. He had brought her to the most beautiful and wildest place of the uplands; he had saved her, nursed her back to strength, watched her bloom as one of the valley lilies; he knew her life there to be pure and sweetāshe belonged to him, and he loved her. Still these were not all the reasons why he did not want to take her away. Where could they go? He feared the rustlersāhe feared the ridersāhe feared the Mormons. And if he should ever succeed in getting Bess safely away from these immediate perils, he feared the sharp eyes of women and their tongues, the big outside world with its problems of existence. He must wait to decide her future, which, after all, was deciding his own. But between her future and his something hung impending. Like Balancing Rock, which waited darkly over the steep gorge, ready to close forever the outlet to Deception Pass, that nameless thing, as certain yet intangible as fate, must fall and close forever all doubts and fears of the future.
āIāve dreamed,ā muttered Venters, as he rose. āWell, why not?... To dream is happiness! But let me just once see this clearly wholly; then I can go on dreaming till the thing falls. Iāve got to tell Jane Withersteen. Iāve dangerous trips to take. Iāve work here to make comfort for this girl. Sheās mine. Iāll fight to keep her safe from that old life. Iāve already seen her forget it. I love her. And if a beast ever rises in me Iāll burn my hand off before I lay it on her with shameful intent. And, by God! sooner or later Iāll kill the man who hid her and kept her in Deception Pass!ā
As he spoke the west wind softly blew in his face. It seemed to soothe his passion. That west wind was fresh, cool, fragrant, and it carried a sweet, strange burden of far-off thingsātidings of life in other climes, of sunshine asleep on other wallsāof other places where reigned peace. It carried, too, sad truth of human hearts and mysteryāof promise and hope unquenchable. Surprise Valley was only a little niche in the wide world whence blew that burdened wind. Bess was only one of millions at the mercy of unknown motive in nature and life. Content had come to Venters in the valley; happiness had breathed in the slow, warm air; love as bright as light had hovered over the walls and descended to him; and now on the west wind came a whisper of the eternal triumph of faith over doubt.
āHow much better I am for what has come to me!ā he exclaimed. āIāll let the future take care of itself. Whatever falls, Iāll be ready.ā
Venters retraced his steps along the terrace back to camp, and found Bess in the old familiar seat, waiting and watching for his return.
āI went off by myself to think a little,ā he explained.
āYou never looked that way before. Whatāwhat is it? Wonāt you tell me?ā
āWell, Bess, the fact is Iāve been dreaming a lot. This valley makes a fellow dream. So I forced myself to think. We canāt live this way much longer. Soon Iāll simply have to go to Cottonwoods. We need a whole pack train of supplies. I can getāā
āCan you go safely?ā she interrupted.
āWhy, Iām sure of it. Iāll ride through the Pass at night. I havenāt any fear that Wrangle isnāt where I left him. And once on himāBess, just wait till you see that horse!ā
āOh, I want to see himāto ride him. Butābut, Bern, this is what troubles me,ā she said. āWillāwill you come back?ā
āGive me four days. If Iām not back in four days youāll know Iām dead. For that only shall keep me.ā
āOh!ā
āBess, Iāll come back. Thereās dangerāI wouldnāt lie to youābut I can take care of myself.ā
āBern, Iām sureāoh, Iām sure of it! All my life Iāve watched hunted men. I can tell whatās in them. And I believe you can ride and shoot and see with any rider of the sage. Itās notānot that Iāfear.ā
āWell, what is it, then?ā
āWhyāwhyāwhy should you come back at all?ā
āI couldnāt leave you here alone.ā
āYou might change your mind when you get to the villageāamong old friendsāā
āI wonāt change my mind. As for old friendsāā He uttered a short, expressive laugh.
āThenāthereāthere must be aāa woman!ā Dark red mantled the clear tan of temple and cheek and neck. Her eyes were eyes of shame, upheld a long moment by intense, straining search for the verification of her fear. Suddenly they drooped, her head fell to her knees, her hands flew to her hot cheeks.
āBessālook here,ā said Venters, with a sharpness due to the violence with which he checked his quick, surging emotion.
As if compelled against her willāanswering to an irresistible voiceāBess raised her head, looked at him with sad, dark eyes, and tried to whisper with tremulous lips.
āThereās no woman,ā went on Venters, deliberately holding her glance with his. āNothing on earth, barring the chances of life, can keep me away.ā
Her face flashed and flushed with the glow of a leaping joy; but like the vanishing of a gleam it disappeared to leave her as he had never beheld her.
āI am nothingāI am lostāI am nameless!ā
āDo you want me to come back?ā he asked, with sudden stern coldness. āMaybe you want to go back to Oldring!ā
That brought her erect, trembling and ashy pale, with dark, proud eyes and mute lips refuting his insinuation.
āBess, I beg your pardon. I shouldnāt have said that. But you angered me. I intend to workāto make a home for you hereāto be aāa brother to you as long as ever you need me. And you must forget what you areāwereāI mean, and be happy. When you remember that old life you are bitter, and it hurts me.ā
āI was happyāI shall be very happy. Oh, youāre so good thatāthat it kills me! If I think, I canāt believe it. I grow sick with wondering why. Iām only aālet me say itāonly a lost, namelessāgirl of the rustlers. Oldringās Girl, they called me. That you should save meābe so good and kindāwant to make me happyāwhy, itās beyond belief. No wonder Iām wretched at the thought of your leaving me. But Iāll be wretched and bitter no more. I promise you. If only I could repay you even a littleāā
āYouāve repaid me a hundredfold. Will you believe me?ā
āBelieve you! I couldnāt do else.ā
āThen listen!... Saving you, I saved myself. Living here in this valley with you, Iāve found myself. Iāve learned to think while I was dreaming. I never troubled myself about God. But God, or some wonderful spirit, has whispered to me here. I absolutely deny the truth of what you say about yourself. I canāt explain it. There are things too deep to tell. Whatever the terrible wrongs youāve suffered, God holds you blameless. I see thatāfeel that in you every moment you are near me. Iāve a mother and a sister āway back in Illinois. If I could Iād take you to themāto-morrow.ā
āIf it were true! Oh, I mightāI might lift my head!ā she cried.
āLift it thenāyou child. For I swear itās true.ā
She did lift her head with the singular wild grace always a part of her actions, with that old unconscious intimation of innocence which always tortured Venters, but now with something moreāa spirit rising from the depths that linked itself to his brave words.
āIāve been thinkingātoo,ā she cried, with quivering smile and swelling breast. āIāve discovered myselfātoo. Iām youngāIām aliveāIām so fullāoh! Iām a woman!ā
āBess, I believe I can claim credit of that last discoveryābefore you,ā Venters said, and laughed.
āOh, thereās moreāthereās something I must tell you.ā
āTell it, then.ā
āWhen will you go to Cottonwoods?ā
āAs soon as the storms are past, or the worst of them.ā
āIāll tell you before you go. I canāt now. I donāt know how I shall then. But it must be told. Iād never let you leave me without knowing. For in spite of what you say thereās a chance you mightnāt come back.ā
Day after day the west wind blew across the valley. Day after day the clouds clustered gray and purple and black. The cliffs sang and the caves rang with Oldringās knell, and the lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, the echoes crashed and crashed, and the rains flooded the valley. Wild flowers sprang up everywhere, swaying with the lengthening grass on the terraces, smiling wanly from shady nooks, peeping wondrously from year-dry crevices of the walls. The valley bloomed into a paradise. Every single moment, from the breaking of the gold bar through the bridge at dawn on to the reddening of rays over the western wall, was one of colorful change. The valley swam in thick, transparent haze, golden at dawn, warm and white at noon, purple in the twilight. At the end of every storm a rainbow curved down into the leaf-bright forest to shine and fade and leave lingeringly some faint essence of its rosy iris in the air.
Venters walked with Bess, once more in a dream, and watched the lights change on the walls, and faced the wind
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