Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 13
Weaveragedaboutfifteenmilesaday.Iknow,formyfatherhadsaiditwassixtymilestoFillmore,thenextMormonsettlement,andwemadethreecampsontheway.Thismeantfourdaysoftravel.FromNephitothelastcampofwhichIhaveanymemorywemusthavetakentwoweeksoralittleless.
AtFillmoretheinhabitantswerehostile,asallhadbeensinceSaltLake.Theylaughedatuswhenwetriedtobuyfood,andwerenotabovetauntinguswithbeingMissourians.
Whenweenteredtheplace,hitchedbeforethelargesthouseofthedozenhousesthatcomposedthesettlementweretwosaddle-horses,dusty,streakedwithsweat,anddrooping.TheoldmanIhavementioned,theonewithlong,sunburnthairandbuckskinshirtandwhoseemedasortofaideorlieutenanttofather,rodeclosetoourwagonandindicatedthejadedsaddle-animalswithacockofhishead.
“Notsparin’horseflesh,Captain,”hemutteredinalowvoice.“An’whatinthenameofSamHillaretheyhard-ridingforifitain’tforus?”
Butmyfatherhadalreadynotedtheconditionofthetwoanimals,andmyeagereyeshadseenhim.AndIhadseenhiseyesflash,hislipstighten,andhaggardlinesformforamomentonhisdustyface.Thatwasall.
