The Garden of Eden. Max BrandЧитать онлайн книгу.
voice: "The horse loves you; it is said."
"I put the matter squarely up to you," said Connor. "You see how I stand. Give me your advice!"
Ephraim protested. "No, no! I cannot advise you. I know nothing of what goes on out yonder. Nevertheless – "
He broke off, for Connor was lighting another cigarette from the butt of the first one, and Ephraim paused to watch, nodding with a sort of vicarious pleasure as he saw Connor inhale deeply and then blow out a thin drift of smoke.
"You were about to say something else when I lighted this."
"Yes, I was about to say that I could not advise you, but I can send to Joseph. He is near us now."
"By all means send to Joseph."
"Jacob," ordered the keeper of the gate, "go to Joseph and tell him what has happened."
The other nodded, and then whistled a long note that drifted up the ravine. Afterward there was no answer, but Jacob remained facing expectantly toward the inside of the valley and presently Connor heard a sound that made his heart leap, the rhythmic hoofbeats of a galloping horse; and even in the darkness the long interval between impacts told him something of the animal's gait. Then into the circle of the firelight broke a gray horse with his tail high, his mane fluttering. He brought his gallop to a mincing trot and came straight toward Jacob, but a yard away he stopped and leaped catlike to one side; with head tossed high he stared at Connor.
Cold sweat stood on the forehead of the gambler, for it was like something he had seen, something he remembered; all his dreams of what a horse should be, come true.
Ephraim was saying sternly:
"In my household the colts are taught better manners, Jacob."
And Jacob answered, greatly perturbed: "There is a wild spirit in all the sons of Harith."
"It is Cassim, is it not?" asked Ephraim.
"Peace, fool!" said Jacob to the stallion, and the horse came and stood behind him, still watching the stranger over the shoulder of his master.
"Years dim your eyes, Ephraim," he continued. "This is not Cassim and he is not the height of Cassim by an inch. No, it is Abra, the son of Hira, who was the daughter of Harith."
He smiled complacently upon Ephraim, nodding his ancient head, and Ephraim frowned.
"It is true that my eyes are not as young as yours, Jacob; but the horses of my household are taught to stand when they are spoken to and not dance like foolish children."
This last reproof was called forth by the continual weaving back and forth of the stallion as he looked at Connor, first from one side of Jacob and then from the other. The old man now turned with a raised hand.
"Stand!" he ordered.
The stallion jerked up his head and became rigid.
"A sharp temper makes a horse without heart," said the oracular Ephraim.
Jacob scowled, and rolling his eyes angrily, searched for a reply; but he found none. Ephraim clasped one knee tightly in both hands, and weaving his head a little from side to side, delighted in his triumph.
"And the hand which is raised," went on the tormentor, "should always fall."
He was apparently quoting from an authority against which there was no appeal; now he concluded:
"Threats are for children, and yearlings; but a grown horse is above them."
"The spirit of Harith has returned in Abra," said Jacob gloomily. "From that month of April when he was foaled he has been a trial and a burden; yes, if even a cloud blows over the moon he comes to my window and calls me. There was never such a horse since Harith. However, he shall make amends. Abra!"
The stallion stepped nearer and halted, alert.
"Go to him, fool. Go to the stranger and give him your head. Quick!"
The gray horse turned, hesitated, and then came straight to Connor, very slowly; there he bowed his head and dropped his muzzle on the knee of the white man, but all the while his eyes flared at the strange face in terror. Jacob turned a proud smile upon Ephraim, and the latter nodded.
"It is a good colt," he admitted. "His heart is right, and in time he may grow to some worth."
Once more Connor fumbled in his pocket.
"Steady," he said, looking squarely into the great, bright eyes. "Steady, boy."
He put his hand under the nose of the stallion.
"It's a new smell, but little different."
Abra snorted softly, but though he shook he dared not move. The gambler, with a side glance, saw the two men watching intently.
"Ah," said Connor, "you have pulled against a headstall here, eh?"
He touched an old scar on the cheek of the horse, and Abra closed his eyes, but opened them again when he discovered that no harm was done to him by the tips of those gentle fingers.
"You may let him have his head again," said Connor. "He will not leave me now until he is ordered."
"So?" exclaimed Jacob. "We shall see! Enough Abra!"
The gray tossed up his head at that word, but after he had taken one step he returned and touched the back of the white man's hand, snuffed at his shoulder and at his hat and then stood with pricking ears. A soft exclamation came in unison from Jacob and Ephraim.
"I have never seen it before," muttered Jacob. "To see it, one would say he was a son of Julanda."
"It is my teaching and not the blood of Julanda that gives my horses manners," corrected Ephraim. "However, if I might look in the hand of the stranger – "
"There is nothing in it," answered Connor, smiling, and he held out both empty palms. "All horses are like this with me."
"Is it true?" they murmured together.
"Yes; I don't know why. But you were going to bring Joseph."
"Ah," said Ephraim, shaking his head. "I had almost forgotten. Hurry, Jacob; but if you will take my advice in the matter you will teach your colts fewer tricks and more sound sense."
The other grunted, and putting his hand on the withers of Abra, he leaped to the back with the lightness of a strong youth. A motion of his hand sent the gray into a gallop that shot them through the gate into darkness.
CHAPTER NINE
That faint and rhythmic chiming which Connor had heard from the mountain when he first saw the valley now came again through the gate, more clearly. There was something familiar about the sound – yet Connor could not place it.
"Did you mark?" said Ephraim, shaking his head. "Did you see the colt shy at the white rock as he ran? In my household that could never happen; and yet Jacob does well enough, for the blood of Harith is as stubborn as old oak and wild as a wolf. But your gift, sir" – and here he turned with much respect toward Connor – "is a great one. I have never seen Harith's sons come to a man as Abra came to you."
He was surprised to see the stranger staring toward the gate as if he watched a ghost.
"He did not gallop," said Connor presently, and his voice faltered. "He flowed. He poured himself through the air."
He swept a hand across his forehead and with great effort calmed the muscles of his face.
"Are there more horses like that in the valley?"
Ephraim hesitated, for there was such a glittering hunger in the eyes of this stranger that it abashed him. Vanity, however, brushed scruple away.
"More like Abra in the valley? So!"
He seemed to hunt for superlatives with which to overwhelm his questioner.
"The worst in my household is Tabari, the daughter of Numan, and she was foaled lame in the left foreleg. But if ten like Abra were placed in one corral and Tabari in the other, a wise man would give the ten and take the one and render thanks that such good fortune had come his way."
"Is