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The Man of the Forest By: Zane Grey (1872-1939) |
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by Zane Grey
Harper and Brothers New York 1920 Published: 1919
CHAPTER I At sunset hour the forest was still, lonely, sweet with tang of fir and
spruce, blazing in gold and red and green; and the man who glided on
under the great trees seemed to blend with the colors and, disappearing,
to have become a part of the wild woodland. Old Baldy, highest of the White Mountains, stood up round and bare,
rimmed bright gold in the last glow of the setting sun. Then, as the
fire dropped behind the domed peak, a change, a cold and darkening
blight, passed down the black spear pointed slopes over all that
mountain world. It was a wild, richly timbered, and abundantly watered region of dark
forests and grassy parks, ten thousand feet above sea level, isolated
on all sides by the southern Arizona desert the virgin home of elk and
deer, of bear and lion, of wolf and fox, and the birthplace as well as
the hiding place of the fierce Apache. September in that latitude was marked by the sudden cool night breeze
following shortly after sundown. Twilight appeared to come on its wings,
as did faint sounds, not distinguishable before in the stillness. Milt Dale, man of the forest, halted at the edge of a timbered ridge, to
listen and to watch. Beneath him lay a narrow valley, open and grassy,
from which rose a faint murmur of running water. Its music was pierced
by the wild staccato yelp of a hunting coyote. From overhead in the
giant fir came a twittering and rustling of grouse settling for the
night; and from across the valley drifted the last low calls of wild
turkeys going to roost. To Dale's keen ear these sounds were all they should have been,
betokening an unchanged serenity of forestland. He was glad, for he had
expected to hear the clipclop of white men's horses which to hear up
in those fastnesses was hateful to him. He and the Indian were friends.
That fierce foe had no enmity toward the lone hunter. But there hid
somewhere in the forest a gang of bad men, sheep thieves, whom Dale did
not want to meet. As he started out upon the slope, a sudden flaring of the afterglow of
sunset flooded down from Old Baldy, filling the valley with lights and
shadows, yellow and blue, like the radiance of the sky. The pools in the
curves of the brook shone darkly bright. Dale's gaze swept up and down
the valley, and then tried to pierce the black shadows across the brook
where the wall of spruce stood up, its speared and spiked crest against
the pale clouds. The wind began to moan in the trees and there was a
feeling of rain in the air. Dale, striking a trail, turned his back to
the fading afterglow and strode down the valley. With night at hand and a rain storm brewing, he did not head for his
own camp, some miles distant, but directed his steps toward an old log
cabin. When he reached it darkness had almost set in. He approached with
caution. This cabin, like the few others scattered in the valleys, might
harbor Indians or a bear or a panther. Nothing, however, appeared to be
there. Then Dale studied the clouds driving across the sky, and he felt
the cool dampness of a fine, misty rain on his face. It would rain off
and on during the night. Whereupon he entered the cabin. And the next moment he heard quick hoof beats of trotting horses.
Peering out, he saw dim, moving forms in the darkness, quite close
at hand. They had approached against the wind so that sound had been
deadened. Five horses with riders, Dale made out saw them loom close.
Then he heard rough voices. Quickly he turned to feel in the dark for a
ladder he knew led to a loft; and finding it, he quickly mounted, taking
care not to make a noise with his rifle, and lay down upon the floor
of brush and poles. Scarcely had he done so when heavy steps, with
accompaniment of clinking spurs, passed through the door below into the
cabin. "Wal, Beasley, are you here?" queried a loud voice. There was no reply. The man below growled under his breath, and again
the spurs jingled... Continue reading book >>
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Genres for this book |
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Fiction |
Literature |
Westerns |
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