第1章

MYDEARHARRYMERCER：WhenLinMcLeanwasonlyaheroinmanuscript，hereceivedhisfirstwelcomeandchasteningbeneathyourpatientroof。Bynonesomuchasbyyouhasheinprivatebeenhelpedandaffectionatelydisciplined，annowyoumuststandgodfathertohimuponthispublicpage。

Intheolddays，thehappydays，whenWyomingwasaTerritorywithafutureinsteadofaStatewithapast，andtheunfencedcattlegrazeduponherrangesbyprosperousthousands，youngLinMcLeanawakedearlyonemorningincowcamp，andlaystaringoutofhisblanketsupontheworld。Hewouldbetwenty-twothisweek。Hewastheyoungestcow-puncherincamp。Butbecausehecouldbreakwildhorses，hewasearningmoredollarsamonththananymanthere，exceptone。Thecookwasamoreindispensableperson。Nonesavethecookwasup，sofar，thismorning。

Lin’sbrotherpuncherssleptabouthimontheground，somemotionless，someshiftingtheirproneheadstoburrowdeeperfromtheincreasingday。

Thebusyworkofspringwasover，thatofthefall，orbeefround-up，notyetcome。Itwasmid-July，alullforthesehard-ridingbachelorsofthesaddle，andmanyunspentdollarsstoodtoMr。McLean’screditontheranchbooks。

“What’sthematterwithsomevariety？“mutteredtheboyinhisblankets。

Thelongrangeofthemountainsliftedclearintheair。Theyslantedfromthepurplefoldsandfurrowsofthepinesthatrichlycloakedthem，upwardintorockandgrassybarenessuntiltheybrokeremotelyintobrightpeaks，andfilmedintothedistantlavenderofthenorthandthesouth。OntheirwesternsidethestreamsranintoSnakeorintoGreenRiver，andsoatlengthmetthePacific。Onthisside，WindRiverflowedforthfromthem，descendingoutoftheLakeofthePaintedMeadows。A

meretrout-brookitwasupthereatthetopofthedivide，witheasyrifflesandstepping-stonesinmanyplaces；butdownhere，outsidethemountains，itwasbecomeastreamingavenue，abroadeningcourse，impetuousbetweenitstwotallgreenwallsofcottonwood-trees。Andsoitwoundawaylikeavastgreenribbonacrossthelilac-graysage-brushandtheyellow，vanishingplains。

“Variety，youbet!“youngLinrepeated，aloud。

Heunrolledhimselffromhisbed，andbroughtfromthegarmentsthatmadehispillowafewtoiletarticles。Hegotonhislongboylegsandlimpedblithelytothemargin。Inthemorningshisslightlamenesswasalwaysmorevisible。ThecampwasatBullLakeCrossing，wheretheforkfromBullLakejoinsWindRiver。HereLinfoundsomeconvenientshingle-stones，withdark，deepishwateragainstthem，whereheplungedhisfaceandenergeticallywashed，andcameupwiththeshortcurlyhairshininguponhisroundhead。Afterenoughlooksathimselfinthedarkwater，andhavingknottedaclean，jauntyhandkerchiefathisthroat，hereturnedwithhisslightlimptocamp，wheretheywerejustsittingatbreakfasttotherearofthecook-shelfofthewagon。

“Buggeduptokill!“exclaimedone，perceivingLin’scarefuldress。

“Hesurehasnotshavedagain？“anotherinquired，withconcern。

“Iain’tgotmyopera-glasseson，“answeredathird。

“Hehassparedthatpansy-blossommustache，“saidafourth。

“Myspringcrop，“remarkedyoungLin，roundingonthislastone，“hasjuicierprospectsthanthatrat-eatencatastropheoflastyear’shaywhichwandersoutofyourface。“

“Why，you’llsoonbetalkingyourselfintoaregularman，“saidtheother。

ButthecamplaughremainedonthesideofyoungLintillbreakfastwasended，whentheranchforemanrodeintocamp。

HimLinMcLeanatonceaddressed。“Iwaswantin’tospeaktoyou，“saidhe。

Theexperiencedforemannoticedtheboy’sholidayappearance。“I

understandyou’retiredofwork，“heremarked。

“Whotoldyou？“askedthebewilderedLin。

Theforemantouchedtheboy’sprettyhandkerchief。“Well，Ihaveawayoftakingthingsinataglance，“saidhe。“That’swhyI’mforeman，I

expect。Soyou’vehadenoughwork？“

“Mysystem’sfullofit，“repliedLin，grinning。Astheforemanstoodthinking，headded，“AndI’dlikemytime。“

Time，inthecattleidiom，meantback-payuptodate。

“It’sgoodwe’renotbusy，“saidtheforeman。

“Meanin’I’dquitallthesame？“inquiredLin，rapidly，flushing。

“No——notmeaninganyoffence。Catchupyourhorse。Iwanttomakethepostbeforeitgetshot。“

TheforemanhadcomedowntheriverfromtheranchatMeadowCreek，andthepost，hisgoal，wasFortWashakie。AllthispartofthecountryformedtheShoshoneIndianReservation，where，bypermission，pasturedtheherdswhoseownerwouldpayLinhistimeatWashakie。Sotheyoungcow-puncherflungonhissaddleandmounted。

“So-long!“heremarkedtothecamp，bywayoffarewell。Hemightneverbegoingtoseeanyofthemagain；butthecow-puncherswerenotdemonstrativebyhabit。

“GoingtostoplongatWashakie？“askedone。

“Almaisnotwaiter-girlatthehotelnow，“anothermentioned。

“Ifthere’sanewgirl，“saidathird，“kissheroneforme，andtellherI’mhandsomerthanyou。“

“Iain’tadeceiverofwomen，“saidLin。

“That’swhyyou’lltellher，“repliedhisfriend。

“Say，Lin，whyareyouquittin’ussosudden，anyway？“askedthecook，grievedtolosehim。

“I’maftersomevariety，“saidtheboy。

“Ifyoupickupmorethanyoucanuse，justcanalittleofitforme!“

shoutedthecookatthedepartingMcLean。

ThiswasthelastofcampbyBullLakeCrossing，andintheforeman’scompanyyoungLinnowtooktheroadforhisaccumulateddollars。

“Soyou’releavingyourbeddingandstuffwiththeoutfit？“saidtheforeman。

“Broughtmytooth-brush，“saidLin，showingitinthebreast-pocketofhisflannelshirt。

“GoingtoDenver？“

“Why，maybe。“

“TakeinSanFrancisco？“

“Soundsslick。“

“Madeanyplans？“

“Gosh，no!“

“Don’twantanythingonyourbrain？“

“Nothin’exceptmyhat，Iguess，“saidLin，andbrokeintocheerfulsong：

“’Twasanastybabyanyhow，Anditonlydiedtospiteus；

’TwasafflictedwiththecerebrowSpinalmeningitis!’“

TheywoundupoutofthemagicvalleyofWindRiver，throughthebastionedgulliesandthegnome-likemysteryofdrywater-courses，upwardanduptothelevelofthehugesage-brushplainabove。Behindlaythedeepvalleytheyhadclimbedfrom，mighty，expanding，itstreeslikebushes，itscattlelikepebbles，itsoppositesidetoweringalsototheedgeofthisupperplain。Thereitlay，anotherworld。Onestepfartherawayfromitsrim，andthetwoedgesoftheplainhadflowedtogetheroveritlikeaclosingsea，coveringwithoutasignorripplethegreatcountrywhichlaysunkbeneath。

“Amanmightthinkhe’ddreamedhe’dsawthatplace，“saidLintotheforeman，andwheeledhishorsetotheedgeagain。“She’ssurethere，though，“headded，gazingdown。Foramomenthisboyfacegrewthoughtful。“Shucks!“saidhethen，abruptly，“where’sanyjoyinmoneythat’scomin’tillitarrives？Ihavemostforgotthefeelo’spot-cash。“

Heturnedhishorseawayfromthefar-windingvisionoftheriver，andtookasharpjogaftertheforeman，whohadnotbeenwaitingforhim。

Thustheycrossedtheeighteenmilesofhighplain，andcamedowntoFortWashakie，inthevalleyofLittleWind，beforethedaywashot。

Hisrollofwagesoncejammedinhispocketlikeanoldhandkerchief，youngLinprecipitatedhimselfoutofthepost-trader’sstoreandawayonhishorseupthestreamamongtheShoshonetepeestoanunexpectedentertainment——awolf-dance。Hehadmeanttogoandseewhatthenewwaiter-girlatthehotellookedlike，butputthisoffpromptlytoattendthedance。ThishospitalitytheShoshoneIndianswereextendingtosomevisitingUtefriends，andtheneighborhoodwasassembledtowatchtheringofpaintednakedsavages。

Thepost-traderlookedafterthegallopingLin。“What’shequittinghisjobfor？“heaskedtheforeman。

“Sameasmostof’emquit。“

“Nothing？“

“Nothing。“

“Beensatisfactory？“

“Neverhadaboymoreso。Good-hearted，willing，aplumbdare-devilwithahorse。“

“Andworthless，“suggestedthepost-trader。

“Well——notyet。He’sheadedthatway。“

“Beenpunchingcattlelong？“

“Cameinthecountryaboutseventy-eight，Ibelieve，androdefortheBordeauxOutfitmostayear，andquit。BlewinatCheyennetillhewentbroke，andworkedoverontothePlatte。RodefortheC。Y。Outfitmostayear，andquit。BlewinatBuffalo。RodeforBalaamawhileonButteCreek。Brokehisleg。WenttotheDryboneHospital，andwhenthefracturewascommencingtoknitprettygoodhebrokeitagainatthehog-ranchacrossthebridge。Nexttimeyou’reinCheyennegetDr。Barkertotellyouaboutthat。McLeandriftedtoGreenRiverlastyearandwentupoverontoSnake，andupSnake，andwasaroundwithaprospectingoutfitonGalenaCreekbyPitchstoneCanyon。SeemshegotinterestedinsomeDutchwomanupthere，butshehadtrouble——died，Ithinktheysaid——andhecamedownbyMeteetseetoWindRiver。He’sliabletogotoMexicoorAfricanext。“

“Ifyouneedhim，“saidthepost-trader，closinghisledger，“youcanofferhimfivemoreamonth。“

“That’llnotholdhim。“

“Well，lethimgo。Haveacigar。ThebishopisexpectedforSunday，andI’vegottoseehisroomisfixedupforhim。“

“Thebishop!“saidtheforeman。“I’veheardhimhighlyspokenof。“

“Youcanhearhimpreachto-morrow。Thebishopisagoodman。“

“He’sbetterthanthat；he’saman，“statedtheforeman——“atleastsotheytellme。“

Now，savinganIndiandance，scarceanypossibleeventattheShoshoneagencycouldassembleinonespotsomanysortsofinhabitantsasavisitfromthisbishop。Inhabitantsoffourcolorsgatheredtoviewthewolf-dancethisafternoon——redmen，whitemen，blackmen，yellowmen。

Nextday，threesortscametochurchattheagency。TheChineselaundrywasabsent。Butbecause，indeed(astheforemansaid)，thebishopwasnotonlyagoodmanbutaman，Wyomingheldhiminrespectandwenttolookathim。HestoodintheagencychurchandheldtheEpiscopalservicethisSundaymorningforsomebrightlyglitteringarmyofficersandtheirfamilies，somewhitecavalry，andsomeblackinfantry；theagencydoctor，thepost-trader，hisforeman，thegovernmentscout，threegamblers，thewaiter-girlfromthehotel，thestage-driver，whowastherebecauseshewas；oldChiefWashakie，white-hairedandroyalinblankets，withtworoyalUtessplendidbesidehim；onebenchfulofsquattingIndianchildren，silentandmarvelling；and，onthebackbench，thecommandingofficer’snewhired-girl，and，besideher，LinMcLean。