A Man in the Open Part 7

He parboiled the bacon, then peppered it while it was frying. When the coffee boiled, he thrust in a red coal to throw the grounds to the bottom. If I thought of English picnics, that was by way of contrast. My host had never known, I had almost forgotten, the shabby barriers, restraints, and traditions of that world where there are picnics.

Frontiersmen are, I think, really spirits strayed out of chivalric ages into our century of all vulgarities. They are not abased, but only amused by our world's condescensions. Uneducated? They are better trained for their world than we are for ours. Their facts are at first-hand from life, ours only at second-hand from books. Illiterate? I should like to see one of our professors read the tracks on a frontier trail. What was the good of the education which had led me to the brink of this cliff? My host, who lived always at the edge of death, had eyes which seemed to see my very thoughts. How else could he know that silence was so kind? To the snake-bitten mare he gave outspoken sympathy, to me his silence. Jones and I were his patients, and both of us trusted him.

He had found me out. The thing I had intended was a crime, and conscience-stricken, I dreaded lest he should speak. I could not bear that. Already his camp was cleaned and in order, his pipe filled and alight, at any moment he might break the restful silence. That's why I spoke, and at random, asking if he were not from the United States.

His eyes said plainly, "So that's the game, eh?" His broad smile said, "Well, we'll play." He sat down, cross-legged. "Yes," he answered, "I'm an American citizen, except," he added softly, "on election days, and then," he c.o.c.ked up one shrewd eye, "I'm sort of British. Canadian? No, I cayn't claim that either, coming from the Labrador, for that's Newf'nland, a day's march nearer home.

"Say, Mrs. Trevor, you don't know my name yet. It's Smith, and with my friends I'm mostly Jesse."

"If you please, may I be one of your friends?"

"If I behave good, you may. No harm in my trying."

From behind us the sun flung beams of golden splendor and blue tree shadows, which went over the rim-rock into the misty depths of the abyss. Down there the Fraser roared. Beyond on the eastern side soared a vast precipice of gold and mauve which at an infinite height above our heads was crested with black pines. Level with our bench land that amazing cliff was cut transversely by a shelf of delicate verdure, with here and there black groves of majestic pines. Nearly opposite, half hidden by the trees, perched a log cabin, in form and in its exquisite proportion like some old Greek temple.

"And that is where you live?"

The moment Jesse Smith had given me his name, I knew him well by reputation. Comments by Surly Brown, the ferryman, and my husband's bitter hatred had outlined a dangerous character. n.o.body else lived within a day's journey.

"That's my home," said Jesse. "D'ye see a dim trail jags down that upper cliff? That's whar I drifted my ponies down when I came in from the States. I didn't know of the wagon road from Hundred Mile House to the ferry, which runs by the north end of my ranch."

"Your house," I said, "always reminds me of an eagle's aerie."

"Wall, it's better'n that. Feed, water, shelter, timber, and squatter's rights is good enough to make a poor man's ranch."

"And the tremendous grandeur of the place?"

"Hum. I don't claim to have been knocked all in a heap with the scenery.

A thousand-foot wall and a hundred-foot gulch is big enough for dimples, and saves fencing. But if you left this district in one of them Arizona canons over night, it would get mislaid.

"No. What took holt of me good and hard was the company,--a silver-tip b'ar and his missus, both thousand pounders, with their three young ladies, now mar'ied and settled beyond the sky-line. There's two couples of prime eagles still camps along thar by South Cave. The timber wolf I trimmed out because he wasted around like a remittance man. Thar was a stallion and his harem, this yere fool Jones bein' one of his young mares. El Senor Don Cougar and his senora lived here, too, until they went into the sheep business with Surly Brown's new flock. Besides that, there was heaps of lil' friendly folks in fur, hair, and feathers.

Yes, I have been right to home since I located."

"But grizzly bears? How frightful!"

"Yes. They was frightened at first. The coa.r.s.e treatment they gets from hunters, makes them sort of bashful with any stranger. Ye see, b'ars yearns to man, same as the heathen does to their fool G.o.ds, whereas bullets, pizen, and deadfalls is sort of discouraging. Their sentiments get mixed, they acts confused, and naturally if they're shot at, they'll get hostile same as you and me. They is misunderstood, and that's how n.o.body has a kind word for grizzlies."

"But the greatest hunters are afraid of them."

"The biggest criminals has got most scare at police. B'ars has no use for sportsmen, nor me neither. My rifle's heaps fiercer than any b'ar, and I've chased more sportsmen than I has grizzlies."

"Wasn't Mr. Trevor one of them?"

Jesse grinned.

"Tell me," I said, for the other side of the story must be worth hearing.

"Wall, Mr. Trevor took out a summins agin me for chasing him off my ranch. He got fined for having no gun license, and no dawg license, and not paying his poll-tax, and Cap Taylor bound him over to keep the peace. I ain't popular now with Mr. Trevor, whereas he got off cheap.

Now, if them b'ars could shoot--"

I hadn't thought of that. "Can they be tamed?" I asked.

"Men can be gentled, and they needs taming most. Thar was three grizzlies sort of adopted a party by the name of Capen Adams, and camped and traveled with him most familiar. Once them four vagrants promenaded on Market Street in 'Frisco. Not that I holds with this Adams in misleading his b'ars among man-smell so strong and distrackful to their peace of mind. But still I reckon Capen Adams and me sort of takes after each other. I'm only attractive to animals."

"Oh, surely!" I laughed.

But Jesse became quite dismal. "I'm not reckoned," he bemoaned himself, "among the popular attractions. The neighbors shies at coming near my ranch."

"Well, if you protect grizzlies and hunt sportsmen, surely it's not surprising."

"Can't please all parties, eh? Wall, perhaps that's how the herd is grazing. Yes. Come to think of it, I remember oncet a Smithsonian grave robber comes to inspect South Cave. He said I'd got a boneyard of some ancient people, and he'd rob graves to find out all about them olden times. He wanted to catch the atmosphere of them days, so I sort of helped. Robbing graves ain't exactly a holy vocation, the party had a mean eye, a German name, and a sort of patronizing manner, but still I helped around to get him atmosphere, me and Eph."

"Who's Eph?"

"Oh, he's just a silver-tip, what scientific parties calls _ursus horribilis ord_. You just cast your eye where the trickle stream falls below my cabin. D'ye see them sarvis berry bushes down below the spray?"

"Where the bushes are waving? Oh, look, there's a gigantic grizzly standing up, and pulling the branches!"

"Yes, that's Eph.

"Wall, as I was telling you, Eph and me is helping this scientific person to get the atmosphere of them ancient times."

"But the poor man would die of fright!"

"Too busy running. When he reached Vancouver, he was surely a cripple though, and no more use to science."

"Crippled?"

"Yes, lost his truthfulness, and a professor without truth is like a woman with no tongue, plumb disabled. His talk in the Vancouver papers beat Ananias, besides exciting a sort of prejudice. The neighbors shies at me, and I'm no more popular. Shall I call Eph?"

"I think not to-day," said I, hurriedly rising, "for indeed I should be getting home at once."

Without ever touching the wound, he had given me the courage to live, had made my behavior of the morning seem that of a silly schoolgirl; but still I did not feel quite up to a social introduction. I said I was sure that Eph and I would have no interests in common.

"So you'll go home and face the music?" said Jesse's wise old eyes.

"My husband," said I, "will be getting quite anxious about me."

Without a word he brought my horse and saddled him.

And I, with a sinking heart, contrasted the loneliness and the horror which was called my "home" with all the glamour of this man's happy solitude.

While Jesse buckled on the head-stall, some evil spirit prompted me to use the word "romantic." In swift resentment he seized and rent the word.

"Romantic? Snakes! Thar's nothen romantic about me. What I can't earn ain't worth stealing, and I most surely despise all shiftless people."

"Forgive me. I did not mean romantic in that sense."

"Lady, what did you mean?"