Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           Aha!Therascal,nevertogivewarning,todropdown,asitwere,fromoutthesky.Suchahermit!Toliveinthedesert!AveritableSaintJerome.DidalionfeedhimdownthereinArizona,orwasitaraven,likeElijah?ThegoodGodhadnotfattenedhim,atanyrate,and,apropos,hewasjustabouttodinehimself.Hehadmadeasaladfromhisownlettuce.Thetwowoulddinewithhim,eh?Forthis,myson,thatwaslostisfoundagain.

           ButPresleyexcusedhimself.Instinctively,hefeltthatSarriaandVanameewantedtotalkofthingsconcerningwhichhewasanoutsider.ItwasnotatallunlikelythatVanameewouldspendhalfthenightbeforethehighaltarinthechurch.

           Hetookhimselfaway,hismindstillbusywithVanamee’sextraordinarylifeandcharacter.But,ashedescendedthehill,hewasstartledbyaprolongedandraucouscry,discordant,veryharsh,thricerepeatedatexactintervals,and,lookingup,hesawoneofFatherSarria’speacocksbalancinghimselfuponthetopmostwireofthefence,hislongtailtrailing,hisneckoutstretched,fillingtheairwithhisstupidoutcry,fornoreasonthanthedesiretomakeanoise.

           Aboutanhourlater,towardfourintheafternoon,PresleyreachedthespringattheheadofthelittlecanyoninthenortheastcorneroftheQuienSaberanch,thepointtowardwhichhehadbeentravellingsinceearlyintheforenoon.Theplacewasnotwithoutitscharm.Innumerablelive-oaksoverhungthecanyon,andBrodersonCreek—thereamererivulet,runningdownfromthespring—gaveacertaincoolnesstotheair.