Following the Grass Read online

  He curled his lips as he turned his eyes on Andres. The booby! He was sorry he had missed him. Well, he would go on alone. He had come for Necia, and he wasn’t going back without trying to get her. Let these boscos tear their hair and cry out to God if they wanted to. He wasn’t any fool! Courage, of a sort, came to him.

  “Where’s he at?” he demanded of Andres. “I ain’t interested in hearin’ any more of your singin’. I want to talk to my girl. Where’s this Joseph?”

  Andres’s eyes lifted at Thad’s insulting tone. Angel saw his son’s frown.

  “He does not matter,” the father said in English; “he is as guilty as I. He offered hate and I gave hate. Pay no attention to him, Andres. We are done with returning injury for injury. If he will follow, let him come.

  “Lead me to Joseph. I know no harm has come to this man’s child.

  “But I am ready to go. Take me to him. I want to get down on my knees to my grandson. I would that I had other sons as noble as you and Joseph, Andres. Go! Lead the way!

  “And I say to you now, Andres, that although my flocks are menaced and my crops are dying in the fields, that if I save them—that if somewhere in the north we can find range to keep my stock alive—that Joseph shall share alike as one of my own.

  “I denied his mother, I ruined his father and I reviled him. But if I can repay, I will—to the utmost! Let this man have his horse. Here—” He dropped the reins over the animal’s head and swung himself to the ground, exclaiming:

  “On foot, my hand in yours, Andres, I will go on! And if this man follows us, let him come in peace.”

  Andres started on, his father at his side. Shortly they came to where they could look down op their home, a white mote swimming in a sea of brown.

  “See!” Angel murmured. “Our home! Even the poplar leaves are turning yellow. They need water as my soul needed tears.

  “Joseph has looked on that caserio when it was green, when it was the home of abundance. It may never be again. But be it what it will, it shall be his home. He shall share it with me.

  “And if he loves this girl, Necia, she shall come, too, for she is worthy of him.”

  Andres nodded, and as they turned across the coulee he glanced back to see old Thad following them on foot.

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  MY HOUSE SHALL BE YOUR HOUSE.

  SINCE dawn Joseph and Necia had rested on the mountain-top. She had won from him the story of the message his mother had carved there and she had insisted on paying such tribute as she could to the memory of her whose faith was an inspiration.

  Grimm had looked on solemnly as the girl knelt in prayer. A flock of his curious fellows had wheeled above him, but the great bird had not heeded their cries. Something of the peace which touched Joseph seemed to have come to him, and as Necia raised her hands to call down a blessing on Margarida Gault, he closed his eyes as if concurring with her.

  From the elevation where Joseph and Necia stood they could see far across Nevada. To the north, rose the brown hills of Oregon through which the Owyhee flows to the Snake. Beyond these hills, and to the west, lay Malheur County with its life-saving lakes. Somewhere in that country Joseph knew his father stopped.

  Peter Organ knew that land too. Word must be sent to Peter. He could be depended on to find the man who held the fortunes of Paradise in his hand. Andres must go. Less than a day’s riding would bring him to the Pingree ranch.

  Joseph reasoned that if his father were not hard to find, he might hope to see him here on Buckskin by evening of the following day. And every day counted now.

  Whatever gladness he felt in looking forward to seeing his father was tempered by a questioning of his own ability to convince him that the Basques should not suffer for what Angel had done. He knew that it would be no easy task.

  Joseph had not arrived at any definite plan regarding his own procedure; nor could he well do so until he had talked with his grandfather. He knew that must be his first move, and if the Basque would not come to Buckskin, he must go to him.

  Not that Joseph hoped for any coöperation from Angel. He still held that to expect aid from his grandfather was to tempt fate. But, once for all, he must know where the Basque stood. On what he took away from his meeting with the man should depend his future action.

  He had told Andres about his father, but he had sworn him not to reveal a word to any man, for Joseph had no thought of bribing the people of Paradise into accepting him by holding out a promise of what his father would do for them. Before he said any word to his father the Basques and their neighbors must show him that they were ready to bury their old quarrel.

  He realized that he had a powerful aid in Andres, but Angel’s grip on his people was strong. Joseph wondered if they would desert the father for the son.

  And Thad Taylor—? Joseph knew he could depend on him to try to frustrate any move he made. In this, he was swayed by the belief that Thad’s enmity to him was only the beginning of a repetition of what his father had gone through with Angel. He accepted it as such, and as his arm tightened about Necia he found the price not too high. Come what would, they belonged to each other. Something of his thought crept into his eyes and Necia lifted her lips and kissed him.

  He held her close, gazing into her eyes, realizing anew the wonder of her.

  ”You are quite happy, Joseph?” she asked softly.

  “Happier than I had ever dared to believe I would be. Bitterness is gone from my heart. I pray that I may give others some little part of what you have given me. I shall make them no promise, but if they show me that they are willing to help each other I shall leave nothing undone to aid them. I have decided to send Andres for my father. Before he comes, I must go to the valley.”

  “I will go with you, Joseph,” Necia murmured. “If grandfather has talked—”

  “Do you think that he has?” Joseph interrupted. “He will hesitate long before he does, because he must know that it will not be easy for him to make any man who knows you believe anything evil of you. From what you have told me I can see that he will hesitate to ask even his own men to aid him.

  “And he can not strike me without hurting you. Already, you see, you safeguard me, for he can not explain his own position without telling some part of the truth; and that he will not do.

  “But you shall go with me. Your grandfather may try to prevent you from marrying me; but we shall not wait.”

  Necia felt his arms tighten and she looked up after a moment, her words merry on her lips:

  “But you have not asked me to marry you, Joseph.”

  “No?” he smiled back at her. “Is it necessary?”

  Necia shook her head naïvely and brushed his cheek with her lips.

  “No,” came her muffled answer.

  Grimm’s eyes had grown large at what went on before him and neither Joseph nor N ecia heard him beating his wings. When Necia looked up, Grimm was gone.

  “Grimm?” she questioned. “He was here a moment ago.”

  Joseph glanced below them, surprised that the crow had left without calling. He was about to say as much to Necia when he saw Andres coming up the trail, his father at his side. Necia saw them at about the same time.

  “There is Grimm,” she said, “perched on Andres’s shoulder.”

  Joseph did not answer, for he saw how father and son walked hand in hand, and as they neared him his amazement grew. He could not take his eyes away from Angel. Some subtle alchemy had transformed his dour face. He walked with springy step. There was color in his cheeks.

  Here was a miracle come to pass! Some sixth sense whispered to Joseph, and he trembled as he glimpsed the truth. Could this be? Had the impossible happened?

  He gazed again at his grandfather. A glad cry broke from him. He raised his hands and stepped forward to meet him.

  Angel did not hesitate. He caught his son and bade him wait; alone he came to Joseph, his face working nervously as he fought to control himself.

  “Joseph!” he cried. “My
Margarida’s boy!” His voice broke completely. A sob shook him as he sank to his knees. Unintelligible Basque words flowed from his lips. They were not meaningless to Joseph, for their import was plain.

  The boy’s throat went dry as he gazed down on the man at whose hands he had suffered so long. He had not been prepared for this moment and his effort to appear calm cost him dearly.

  He marveled that he could look on his grandfather without rancor. Subconsciously he wondered what had worked the miracle which he beheld.

  Andres’s hand must have been in it. And Andres—? Joseph was doubly overwhelmed as he thought of the change in the big man.

  And Neda had said this would happen! Now, indeed, was there a chance for him· to succeed. A whole people were to be delivered from the prejudice that had dwarfed them!

  Times without number he had thought of the day when his grandfather should stand before him crushed. A savage joy had always been his at the contemplation, but the gladness that was his now made the memory of that pleasure mean and small.

  Joseph wished that his father could have stood there at this moment. For close on thirty years the breach between the Gaults and the Irosabals had been widening. In a way life had been pointing to this hour. Here was the turning point. The suffering and misery of those wasted years was being expiated now.

  Studied injustices that he had once held unforgivable seemed less cruel as he listened to Angel’s repentance. For good or evil, the man had always been a force. He had surmounted obstacles that would have defeated any but the hardiest. Beyond doubt he had asked more of himself than he had of his sons.

  Andres and the others had been satisfied with a smattering of English; the father had not stopped there. It was a small thing, but indicative of the man’s ability to take out of himself whatever he needed.

  Joseph dismissed the thought that fear had driven his grandfather to his knees. The man’s grief was too sincere to have sprung from any thought of self.

  Grimm, the crow, had fluttered to the ground from Andres’s shoulder. He came now and stood looking at Angel. Joseph became aware of the big bird as he looked up at him, his great golden eyes seeming to say:

  “Be not afraid. I recommend this man to you.”

  And Joseph hesitated no longer. He placed his hand on his grandfather0s gray head.

  Necia and Andres had not moved, so completely had they been caught up by the drama being enacted before them. They held their breath as they saw Joseph reach out a hand to Angel.

  “Arise!” they heard him say. `“I forgive you. It is not for me to judge you.”

  Angel clutched Joseph’s hand, greedily.

  “Can you forgive me?” he cried pitifully. “I—I—how can I ask you to? No, no, Joseph, I dare not. I have been mad! Thirty years—thirty years of bitterness. I—”

  Joseph tried to stop him as he scourged himself.

  “No,” Angel insisted. “My lips have been sealed too long. I have much to say. I have stopped at nothing to injure you and your father. And my poor Margarida! God forgive me! Joseph! Joseph!”

  And Angel bared his soul as he had done once before that morning; though rarely has man reviled himself as he did now. With frenzied exactness he recalled every incident of his persecution of Joseph’s father and mother. He made himself out a monster, disdaining any excuse for what he had done.

  Once again was the story of Kit Dorr’s death told. It was as if Joseph listened to the history of his own life, so closely had Angel’s vengeance been woven into it.

  Joseph did not offer to stop him again. He let him go on until he had quite finished. He stooped then and helped his grandfather to his feet.

  “Come—come!” he said. “There is work for you to do. Between us we shall bring a new understanding of life to the people of Paradise. We will bid them hope again. We will show them that they must depend on one another. Prejudice must go. Good-will must take the place of hatred and suspicion.

  “And we will go to them together. We have been enemies; they shall see us friends.”

  “Friends?” Angel echoed Joseph’s hope. He appeared to doubt that this could be.

  “We shall be friends,” Joseph repeated. “It is God’s wish. There is suffering in Paradise. Mountain and valley know now that I spoke the truth; the lean years are here. Now must men who have been enemies take each other’s hand and share what remains to them.

  “Where there is water, no man shall be denied. The rich must help the poor. From day to day the famine must be put off. Even so, there will not be water enough for all. Each must be satisfied with’less than enough.

  “Some men will say: ’I will not share with my brother. Alone, I may withstand the drought, together we all shall fail.’ And these will we find hard to convince, for there is truth in those words. We may fail. Faith, alone, must sustain us.”

  “Let me be the first, then, to prove that it is enough,” exclaimed Angel. “We can not save our crops, but we can keep our stock alive. I will close my irrigation ditches to-night. Let those men whom I have despoiled divide the water that I will turn back into Martin Creek.

  “Below the Reserve there is fall grazing-land on which I have always fattened my sheep. Let my neighbors lead their stock there. Let them share it among them. And all my people shall share what they have with their neighbors.

  “You shall be able to say unto all men that the Basques are their friends. I stole this mountain from your mother. I return it to you now, and what I have undone here shall be restored tenfold.”

  “But I ask nothing for myself,” Joseph said humbly.

  “No; it is I who ask, my son. Come to me and let me put my arms around you. I have said to Andres that my house shall be your house. As one of my own you shall share. In my old age will I try to do for you what the father I robbed you of would have done.”

  “But my father lives!” Joseph exclaimed. “He is not far away.”

  The news staggered Angel. Joseph caught him as he thought he was about to fall.

  “Bring him to me,” the old man murmured weakly. “Let me see him, Joseph. Let me speak to him. I know he can not forgive me, but I would speak to him.”

  “Grandfather, I can not make any promise for my father. It is for you to make your peace with him. He is in Malheur County. I was going to send Andres to Peter Organ. Peter can find my father.”

  “Andres has other work,” Angel declared. “Come,” he said to his son. “I want you to go back to your brothers, Andres. Tell them to come to my house to-morrow. The flocks must be left with the dogs to guard them. In my house to-morrow, I want all of my family. Let no one stay behind.”

  And then to Joseph he said: “We can telephone to Peter. I will ask him to find your father and to come at once. I will explain to Peter. I will go to the valley and send word to every man to meet at my house to-morrow. And you, Joseph, you will come with me?”

  “That I cannot do,” answered Joseph. “There is one here who is dearer to me than my life. Where I go, she must go.”

  “And that is well, my son!” Angel turned to Necia and said:

  “Come to me, Necia. I have been a wicked, wrathful man, but my eyes have been opened to my faults. I have made you trouble, but I have brought you happiness, too. Not that any man could have kept Joseph and you apart. You are worthy of him. I have said that my house is his house. It is yours also. Come to me.”

  Mists swam in Necia’s eyes as she saw the old man open his anns to her. Angel was paying as she had told Joseph he would pay. And she were blind had she not seen that the promise she had held out to Joseph was coming to pass.

  Slowly she came to the old man. He caught her to him hungrily. Now for the first time did he see the message, black with age, that his daughter had carved on the naked rock. With shaking hands he put Necia from him and turned to Joseph.

  “How does this come here?” he asked m quavering tones.

  “My mother carved it there,” said Joseph.

  “Your mother—” Humbly Ang
el dragged himself to the very crest of Buckskin. He put out his hands and placed them tenderly on the crude letters.

  Joseph caught Necia and, with his arm around her, they stood reverently with closed eyes as Angel wept. They heard Andres go to his father’s side. The big man said nothing, however, and only his father’s grief broke the stillness.

  CHAPTER XXV.

  “I SHALL GO!”

  WHEN they looked up, Thad stood before them. Joseph glanced at Grimm and Slippy-foot, wondering why they had not announced the man’s coming, and he was surprised to see them turn away from Necia’s grandfather as if he did not exist.

  Thad looked old and bent. Necia ran to him and put her arm about him. She felt him lean his weight on her.

  “Grandfather,” she murmured affectionately.

  “I have seen and heard enough,” Thad muttered. “You leave me, Necia, for this man? Ain’t there any love in you for me at all?” His voice shook with intensity.

  “You need not ask that,” Necia replied patiently. “Neither need you say that I am leaving you. Rather, grandfather, is it you who leave me. Joseph would be your friend if you would permit him to be.”

  “I don’t want his friendship. I don’t want nothin’ to do with him, nor with these Basques. I got along without ’em for years. Why should I throw in with them now? I ain’t askin’ help. I keep what’s mine.

  “I tell you, Necia, I ain’t a-goin’ to give you up, either. I raised you pretty near since you was a baby. I ain’t never been much on God, but I been strong on my own kind. You come with me. We’ll go home!”

  Necia shook her head calmly. He would not understand.

  “No, grandfather; I love Joseph and my place is with him. I would keep you both, but since I must choose—I choose him.”

  Thad recoiled at her words.

  “So you think to marry him, eh?” he demanded angrily.

  “That is my intention, grandfather.”

  “Well, it won’t be! I’ll see to that. There won’t a Gault come into my family. I ain’t done nothin’ yet; but you wait! You won’t marry him!”