He urged his horse on at a faster walk, and as soon as the slope lessened broke into a trot. At Trillium Covert they were galloping.
"You"ll have to stop for dinner first," Saxon said, as they neared the gate of Madrono Ranch.
"You stop," he answered. "I don"t want no dinner."
"But I want to go with you," she pleaded. "What is it?"
"I don"t dast tell you. You go on in an" get your dinner."
"Not after that," she said. "Nothing can keep me from coming along now."
Half a mile farther on, they left the highway, pa.s.sed through a patent gate which Billy had installed, and crossed the fields on a road which was coated thick with chalky dust. This was the road that led to Chavon"s clay pit. The hundred and forty lay to the west. Two wagons, in a cloud of dust, came into sight.
"Your teams, Billy," cried Saxon. "Think of it! Just by the use of the head, earning your money while you"re riding around with me."
"Makes me ashamed to think how much cash money each one of them teams is bringin" me in every day," he acknowledged.
They were turning off from the road toward the bars which gave entrance to the one hundred and forty, when the driver of the foremost wagon hallo"d and waved his hand. They drew in their horses and waited.
"The big roan"s broke loose," the driver said, as he stopped beside them.
"Clean crazy loco--bitin", squealin", strikin", kickin". Kicked clean out of the harness like it was paper. Bit a chunk out of Baldy the size of a saucer, an" wound up by breakin" his own hind leg. Liveliest fifteen minutes I ever seen."
"Sure it"s broke?" Billy demanded sharply.
"Sure thing."
"Well, after you unload, drive around by the other barn and get Ben.
He"s in the corral. Tell Matthews to be easy with "m. An" get a gun.
Sammy"s got one. You"ll have to see to the big roan. I ain"t got time now.--Why couldn"t Matthews a-come along with you for Ben? You"d save time."
"Oh, he"s just stickin" around waitin"," the driver answered. "He reckoned I could get Ben."
"An" lose time, eh? Well, get a move on."
"That"s the way of it," Billy growled to Saxon as they rode on. "No savve. No head. One man settin" down an" holdin his hands while another team drives outa its way doin what he oughta done. That"s the trouble with two-dollar-a-day men."
"With two-dollar-a-day heads," Saxon said quickly. "What kind of heads do you expect for two dollars?"
"That"s right, too," Billy acknowledged the hit. "If they had better heads they"d be in the cities like all the rest of the better men.
An" the better men are a lot of dummies, too. They don"t know the big chances in the country, or you couldn"t hold "m from it."
Billy dismounted, took the three bars down, led his horse through, then put up the bars.
"When I get this place, there"ll be a gate here," he announced. "Pay for itself in no time. It"s the thousan" an" one little things like this that count up big when you put "m together." He sighed contentedly. "I never used to think about such things, but when we shook Oakland I began to wise up. It was them San Leandro Porchugeeze that gave me my first eye-opener. I"d been asleep, before that."
They skirted the lower of the three fields where the ripe hay stood uncut. Billy pointed with eloquent disgust to a break in the fence, slovenly repaired, and on to the standing grain much-trampled by cattle.
"Them"s the things," he criticized. "Old style. An" look how thin that crop is, an" the shallow plowin". Scrub cattle, scrub seed, scrub farmin". Chavon"s worked it for eight years now, an" never rested it once, never put anything in for what he took out, except the cattle into the stubble the minute the hay was on."
In a pasture glade, farther on, they came upon a bunch of cattle.
"Look at that bull, Saxon. Scrub"s no name for it. They oughta be a state law against lettin" such animals exist. No wonder Chavon"s that land poor he"s had to sink all his clay-pit earnin"s into taxes an"
interest. He can"t make his land pay. Take this hundred an forty.
Anybody with the savve can just rake silver dollars offen it. I"ll show "m."
They pa.s.sed the big adobe barn in the distance.
"A few dollars at the right time would a-saved hundreds on that roof,"
Billy commented. "Well, anyway, I won"t be payin" for any improvements when I buy. An I"ll tell you another thing. This ranch is full of water, and if Glen Ellen ever grows they"ll have to come to see me for their water supply."
Billy knew the ranch thoroughly, and took short-cuts through the woods by way of cattle paths. Once, he reined in abruptly, and both stopped.
Confronting them, a dozen paces away, was a half-grown red fox. For half a minute, with beady eyes, the wild thing studied them, with twitching sensitive nose reading the messages of the air. Then, velvet-footed, it leapt aside and was gone among the trees.
"The son-of-a-gun!" Billy e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.
As they approached Wild Water; they rode out into a long narrow meadow.
In the middle was a pond.
"Natural reservoir, when Glen Ellen begins to buy water," Billy said.
"See, down at the lower end there?--wouldn"t cost anything hardly to throw a dam across. An" I can pipe in all kinds of hill-drip. An"
water"s goin" to be money in this valley not a thousan" years from now.--An" all the ginks, an" b.o.o.bs, an" dubs, an" gazabos poundin" their ear deado an" not seein" it comin.--An" surveyors workin" up the valley for an electric road from Sausalito with a branch up Napa Valley."
They came to the rim of Wild Water canyon. Leaning far back in their saddles, they slid the horses down a steep declivity, through big spruce woods, to an ancient and all but obliterated trail.
"They cut this trail "way back in the Fifties," Billy explained. "I only found it by accident. Then I asked Poppe yesterday. He was born in the valley. He said it was a fake minin" rush across from Petaluma. The gamblers got it up, an" they must a-drawn a thousan" suckers. You see that flat there, an" the old stumps. That"s where the camp was. They set the tables up under the trees. The flat used to be bigger, but the creek"s eaten into it. Poppe said they was a couple of killin"s an" one lynchin"."
Lying low against their horses" necks, they scrambled up a steep cattle trail out of the canyon, and began to work across rough country toward the knolls.
"Say, Saxon, you"re always lookin" for something pretty. I"ll show you what"ll make your hair stand up... soon as we get through this manzanita."
Never, in all their travels, had Saxon seen so lovely a vista as the one that greeted them when they emerged. The dim trail lay like a rambling red shadow cast on the soft forest floor by the great redwoods and over-arching oaks. It seemed as if all local varieties of trees and vines had conspired to weave the leafy roof--maples, big madronos and laurels, and lofty tan-bark oaks, scaled and wrapped and interwound with wild grape and flaming poison oak. Saxon drew Billy"s eyes to a mossy bank of five-finger ferns. All slopes seemed to meet to form this basin and colossal forest bower. Underfoot the floor was spongy with water. An invisible streamlet whispered under broad-fronded brakes. On every hand opened tiny vistas of enchantment, where young redwoods grouped still and stately about fallen giants, shoulder-high to the horses, moss-covered and dissolving into mold.
At last, after another quarter of an hour, they tied their horses on the rim of the narrow canyon that penetrated the wilderness of the knolls.
Through a rift in the trees Billy pointed to the top of the leaning spruce.
"It"s right under that," he said. "We"ll have to follow up the bed of the creek. They ain"t no trail, though you"ll see plenty of deer paths crossin" the creek. You"ll get your feet wet."
Saxon laughed her joy and held on close to his heels, splashing through pools, crawling hand and foot up the slippery faces of water-worn rocks, and worming under trunks of old fallen trees.
"They ain"t no real bed-rock in the whole mountain," Billy elucidated, "so the stream cuts deeper"n deeper, an" that keeps the sides cavin" in.
They"re as steep as they can be without fallin" down. A little farther up, the canyon ain"t much more"n a crack in the ground--but a mighty deep one if anybody should ask you. You can spit across it an" break your neck in it."
The climbing grew more difficult, and they were finally halted, in a narrow cleft, by a drift-jam.
"You wait here," Billy directed, and, lying flat, squirmed on through crashing brush.
Saxon waited till all sound had died away. She waited ten minutes longer, then followed by the way Billy had broken. Where the bed of the canyon became impossible, she came upon what she was sure was a deer path that skirted the steep side and was a tunnel through the close greenery. She caught a glimpse of the overhanging spruce, almost above her head on the opposite side, and emerged on a pool of clear water in a clay-like basin. This basin was of recent origin, having been formed by a slide of earth and trees. Across the pool arose an almost sheer wall of white. She recognized it for what it was, and looked about for Billy.
She heard him whistle, and looked up. Two hundred feet above, at the perilous top of the white wall, he was holding on to a tree trunk. The overhanging spruce was nearby.