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he experienced a grim assurance of what his instinct and his training
might accomplish if directed to a stern and daring end。 Perhaps his
father understood this； perhaps the old Texan had some little reason
for his confidence。
Every few paces Jean halted to listen。 All objects； of course； were
indistinguishable in the dark…gray obscurity； except when he came close
upon them。 Shepp showed an increasing eagerness to bolt out into the
void。 When Jean had traveled half a mile from the house he heard a
scattered trampling of cattle on the run； and farther out a low
strangled bawl of a calf。 〃Ahuh！〃 muttered Jean。 〃Cougar or some
varmint pulled down that calf。〃 Then he discharged his rifle in the
air and yelled with all his might。 It was necessary then to yell again
to hold Shepp back。
Thereupon Jean set forth down the valley； and tramped out and across
and around； as much to scare away whatever had been after the stock
as to look for the wounded calf。 More than once he heard cattle moving
away ahead of him； but he could not see them。 Jean let Shepp go；
hoping the dog would strike a trail。 But Shepp neither gave tongue
nor came back。 Dawn began to break； and in the growing light Jean
searched around until at last he stumbled over a dead calf； lying in
a little bare wash where water ran in wet seasons。 Big wolf tracks
showed in the soft earth。 〃Lofers；〃 said Jean； as he knelt and just
covered one track with his spread hand。 〃We had wolves in Oregon；
but not as big as these。 。 。 。 Wonder where that half…wolf dog； Shepp；
went。 Wonder if he can be trusted where wolves are concerned。
I'll bet not； if there's a she…wolf runnin' around。〃
Jean found tracks of two wolves； and he trailed them out of the wash；
then lost them in the grass。 But； guided by their direction； he went
on and climbed a slope to the cedar line； where in the dusty patches
he found the tracks again。 〃Not scared much；〃 he muttered； as he noted
the slow trotting tracks。 〃Well； you old gray lofers； we're goin' to
clash。〃 Jean knew from many a futile hunt that wolves were the wariest
and most intelligent of wild animals in the quest。 From the top of a
low foothill he watched the sun rise； and then no longer wondered why
his father waxed eloquent over the beauty and location and luxuriance
of this grassy valley。 But it was large enough to make rich a good
many ranchers。 Jean tried to restrain any curiosity as to his father's
dealings in Grass Valley until the situation had been made clear。
Moreover； Jean wanted to love this wonderful country。 He wanted to be
free to ride and hunt and roam to his heart's content； and therefore
he dreaded hearing his father's claims。 But Jean threw off forebodings。
Nothing ever turned out so badly as it presaged。 He would think the
best until certain of the worst。 The morning was gloriously bright；
and already the frost was glistening wet on the stones。 Grass Valley
shone like burnished silver dotted with innumerable black spots。
Burros were braying their discordant messages to one another； the
colts were romping in the fields； stallions were whistling； cows
were bawling。 A cloud of blue smoke hung low over the ranch house；
slowly wafting away on the wind。 Far out in the valley a dark group
of horsemen were riding toward the village。 Jean glanced thoughtfully
at them and reflected that he seemed destined to harbor suspicion of
all men new and strange to him。 Above the distant village stood the
darkly green foothills leading up to the craggy slopes； and these
ending in the Rim； a red； black…fringed mountain front； beautiful
in the morning sunlight； lonely； serene； and mysterious against the
level skyline。 Mountains； ranges； distances unknown to Jean； always
called to himto come； to seek； to explore； to find； but no wild
horizon ever before beckoned to him as this one。 And the subtle vague
emotion that had gone to sleep with him last night awoke now hauntingly。
It took effort to dispel the desire to think； to wonder。
Upon his return to the house； he went around on the valley side；
so as to see the place by light of day。 His father had built for
permanence； and evidently there had been three constructive periods
in the history of that long； substantial； picturesque log house。
But few nails and little sawed lumber and no glass had been used。
Strong and skillful hands； axes and a crosscut saw； had been the
prime factors in erecting this habitation of the Isbels。
〃Good mawnin'； son；〃 called a cheery voice from the porch。 〃Shore
we…all heard you shoot； an' the crack of that forty…four was as
welcome as May flowers。〃
Bill Isbel looked up from a task over a saddle girth and inquired
pleasantly if Jean ever slept of nights。 Guy Isbel laughed and
there was warm regard in the gaze he bent on Jean。
〃You old Indian！〃 he drawled； slowly。 〃Did you get a bead on anythin'？〃
〃No。 I shot to scare away what I found to be some of your lofers；〃
replied Jean。 〃I heard them pullin' down a calf。 An' I found tracks
of two whoppin' big wolves。 I found the dead calf； too。 Reckon the
meat can be saved。 Dad； you must lose a lot of stock here。〃
〃Wal； son； you shore hit the nail on the haid；〃 replied the rancher。
〃What with lions an' bears an' lofersan' two…footed lofers of another
breedI've lost five thousand dollars in stock this last year。〃
〃Dad！ You don't mean it！〃 exclaimed Jean； in astonishment。
To him that sum represented a small fortune。
〃I shore do；〃 answered his father。
Jean shook his head as if he could not understand such an enormous
loss where there were keen able…bodied men about。〃 But that's awful；
dad。 How could it happen？ Where were your herders an' cowboys？
An' Bill an' Guy？〃
Bill Isbel shook a vehement fist at Jean and retorted in earnest；
having manifestly been hit in a sore spot。 〃Where was me an' Guy；
huh？ Wal； my Oregon brother； we was heah； all year； sleepin' more
or less aboot three hours out of every twenty…fourridin' our boots
offan' we couldn't keep down that loss。〃
〃Jean； you…all have a mighty tumble comin' to you out heah；〃
said Guy； complacently。
〃Listen； son；〃 spoke up the rancher。 〃You want to have some hunches
before you figure on our troubles。 There's two or three packs of
lofers； an' in winter time they are hell to deal with。 Lions thick
as bees； an' shore bad when the snow's on。 Bears will kill a cow now
an' then。 An' whenever an' old silvertip comes mozyin' across from
the Mazatzals he kills stock。 I'm in with half a dozen cattlemen。
We all work together； an' the whole outfit cain't keep these vermints
down。 Then two years ago the Hash Knife Gang come into the Tonto。〃
〃Hash Knife Gang？ What a pretty name！〃 replied Jean。 〃Who're they？〃
〃Rustlers； son。 An' shore the real old Texas brand。 The old Lone
Star State got too hot for them； an' they followed the trail of a
lot of other Texans who needed a healthier climate。 Some two hundred
Texans around heah； Jean； an' maybe a matter of three hundred inhabitants
in the Tonto all told； good an' bad。 Reckon it's aboot half an' half。〃
A cheery call from the kitchen interrupted the conversation of th