Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter V.
“Iseehim;Iseehim!”shoutedVacca.“He’sgoinglikethedevil.He’sheadedforGuadalajara.”
“Lookback,uptheroad,towardtheMission.Anythingthere?”
Theanswercamedowninashoutofapprehension.
“There’sapartyofmen.Threeorfour—onhorse-back.There’sdogswith’em.They’recomingthisway.Oh,Icanhearthedogs.And,say,oh,say,there’sanotherpartycomingdowntheLowerRoad,goingtowardsGuadalajara,too.Theygotguns.Icanseetheshineofthebarrels.And,oh,Lord,say,there’sthreemoremenonhorsescomingdownonthejumpfromthehillsontheLosMuertosstockrange.They’remakingtowardsGuadalajara.AndIcanhearthecourthousebellinBonnevilleringing.Say,thewholecountyisup.”
AsyoungVaccasliddowntotheground,twosmallblack-and-tanhounds,withflappingearsandlollingtongues,lopedintoviewontheroadinfrontofthehouse.Theyweregreywithdust,theirnosesweretotheground.AtthegatewhereDykehadturnedintotheranchhousegrounds,theyhaltedinconfusionamoment.Onestartedtofollowthehighwayman’strailtowardsthestablecorral,buttheother,quarteringovertheroadwithlightningswiftness,suddenlypickedupthenewscentleadingontowardsGuadalajara.Hetossedhisheadintheair,andPresleyabruptlyshuthishandsoverhisears.
Ah,thatterriblecry!deep-toned,reverberatinglikethebourdonofagreatbell.Itwasthetrackersexultingonthetrailofthepursued,theprolonged,raucoushowl,eager,ominous,vibratingwiththealarmofthetocsin,sullenwiththeheavymufflingnoteofdeath.
