The Call Of The Canyon by Zane Grey (top 20 books to read .txt) 📖

Blaze Down Into The Depths,  Transforming Them Incalculably.

The Great Cliffs Turned Gold,  The Creek Changed To Glancing Silver,  The

Green Of Trees Vividly Freshened,  And In The Clefts Rays Of Sunlight Burned

Into The Blue Shadows. Carley Had Never Gazed Upon A Scene Like This.

Hostile And Prejudiced,  She Yet Felt Wrung From Her An Acknowledgment Of

Beauty And Grandeur. But Wild,  Violent,  Savage! Not Livable! This Insulated

Rift In The Crust Of The Earth Was A Gigantic Burrow For Beasts,  Perhaps

For Outlawed Men--Not For A Civilized Person--Not For Glenn Kilbourne.

 

"Don't Be Scart,  Ma'am," Spoke Up The Driver. "It's Safe If You're Careful.

An' I've Druv This Manys The Time."

 

Carley's Heartbeats Thumped At Her Side,  Rather Denying Her Taunted

Assurance Of Fearlessness. Then The Rickety Vehicle Started Down At An

Angle That Forced Her To Cling To Her Seat.

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Carley,  Clutching Her Support,  With Abated Breath And Prickling Skin,  Gazed In

Fascinated Suspense Over The Rim Of The Gorge. Sometimes The Wheels On

That Side Of The Vehicle Passed Within A Few Inches Of The Edge. The Brakes

Squeaked,  The Wheels Slid; And She Could Hear The Scrape Of The Iron-Shod

Hoofs Of The Horses As They Held Back Stiff Legged,  Obedient To The Wary

Call Of The Driver.

 

The First Hundred Yards Of That Steep Road Cut Out Of The Cliff Appeared To

Be The Worst. It Began To Widen,  With Descents Less Precipitous. Tips Of

Trees Rose Level With Her Gaze,  Obstructing Sight Of The Blue Depths. Then

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Brush Appeared On Each Side Of The Road. Gradually Carley's Strain Relaxed,

And Also The Muscular Contraction By Which She Had Braced Herself In The

Seat. The Horses Began To Trot Again. The Wheels Rattled. The Road Wound

Around Abrupt Corners,  And Soon The Green And Red Wall Of The Opposite Side

Of The Canyon Loomed Close. Low Roar Of Running Water Rose To Carley's

Ears. When At Length She Looked Out Instead Of Down She Could See Nothing

But A Mass Of Green Foliage Crossed By Tree Trunks And Branches Of Brown

And Gray. Then The Vehicle Bowled Under Dark Cool Shade,  Into A Tunnel With

Mossy Wet Cliff On One Side,  And Close-Standing Trees On The Other.

 

"Reckon We're All Right Now,  Onless We Meet Somebody Comin' Up," Declared

The Driver.

 

Carley Relaxed. She Drew A Deep Breath Of Relief. She Had Her First Faint

Intimation That Perhaps Her Extensive Experience Of Motor Cars,  Express

Trains,  Transatlantic Liners,  And Even A Little Of Airplanes,  Did Not Range

Over The Whole Of Adventurous Life. She Was Likely To Meet Something,

Entirely New And Striking Out Here In The West.

 

The Murmur Of Falling Water Sounded Closer. Presently Carley Saw That The

Road Turned At The Notch In The Canyon,  And Crossed A Clear Swift Stream.

Here Were Huge Mossy Boulders,  And Red Walls Covered By Lichens,  And The

Air Appeared Dim And Moist,  And Full Of Mellow,  Hollow Roar. Beyond This

Crossing The Road Descended The West Side Of The Canyon,  Drawing Away And

Higher From The Creek. Huge Trees,  The Like Of Which Carley Had Never Seen,

Began To Stand Majestically Up Out Of The Gorge,  Dwarfing The Maples And

White-Spotted Sycamores. The Driver Called These Great Trees Yellow Pines.

 

At Last The Road Led Down From The Steep Slope To The Floor Of The Canyon.

What From Far Above Had Appeared Only A Green Timber-Choked Cleft Proved

From Close Relation To Be A Wide Winding Valley,  Tip And Down,  Densely

Forested For The Most Part,  Yet Having Open Glades And Bisected From Wall

To Wall By The Creek. Every Quarter Of A Mile Or So The Road Crossed The

Stream; And At These Fords Carley Again Held On Desperately And Gazed Out

Dubiously,  For The Creek Was Deep,  Swift,  And Full Of Bowlders. Neither

Driver Nor Horses Appeared To Mind Obstacles. Carley Was Splashed And

Jolted Not Inconsiderably. They Passed Through Groves Of Oak Trees,  From

Which The Creek Manifestly Derived Its Name; And Under Gleaming Walls,

Cold,  Wet,  Gloomy,  And Silent; And Between Lines Of Solemn Wide-Spreading

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Pines. Carley Saw Deep,  Still Green Pools Eddying Under Huge Massed Jumble

Of Cliffs,  And Stretches Of White Water,  And Then,  High Above The Treetops,

A Wild Line Of Canyon Rim,  Cold Against The Sky. She Felt Shut In From The

World,  Lost In An Unscalable Rut Of The Earth. Again The Sunlight Had

Failed,  And The Gray Gloom Of The Canyon Oppressed Her. It Struck Carley As

Singular That She Could Not Help Being Affected By Mere Weather,  Mere

Heights And Depths,  Mere Rock Walls And Pine Trees,  And Rushing Water. For

Really,  What Had These To Do With Her? These Were Only Physical Things That

She Was Passing. Nevertheless,  Although She Resisted Sensation,  She Was

More And More Shot Through And Through With The Wildness And Savageness Of

This Canyon.

 

A Sharp Turn Of The Road To The Right Disclosed A Slope Down The Creek,

Across Which Showed Orchards And Fields,  And A Cottage Nestling At The Base

Of The Wall. The Ford At This Crossing Gave Carley More Concern Than Any

That Had Been Passed,  For There Was Greater Volume And Depth Of Water. One

Of The Horses Slipped On The Rocks,  Plunged Up And On With Great Splash.

They Crossed,  However,  Without More Mishap To Carley Than Further

Acquaintance With This Iciest Of Waters. From This Point The Driver Turned

Back Along The Creek,  Passed Between Orchards And Fields,  And Drove Along

The Base Of The Red Wall To Come Suddenly Upon A Large Rustic House That

Had Been Hidden From Carley's Sight. It Sat Almost Against The Stone Cliff,

From Which Poured A White Foamy Sheet Of Water. The House Was Built Of

Slabs With The Bark On,  And It Had A Lower And Upper Porch Running All

Around,  At Least As Far As The Cliff. Green Growths From The Rock Wall

Overhung The Upper Porch. A Column Of Blue Smoke Curled Lazily Upward From

A Stone Chimney. On One Of The Porch Posts Hung A Sign With Rude Lettering:

"Lolomi Lodge."

 

"Hey,  Josh,  Did You Fetch The Flour?" Called A Woman's Voice From Inside.

 

"Hullo I Reckon I Didn't Forgit Nothin'," Replied The Man,  As He Got Down.

"An' Say,  Mrs. Hutter,  Hyar's A Young Lady From Noo Yorrk."

 

That Latter Speech Of The Driver's Brought Mrs. Hutter Out On The Porch.

"Flo,  Come Here," She Called To Some One Evidently Near At Hand. And Then

She Smilingly Greeted Carley.

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"Get Down An' Come In,  Miss," She Said. "I'm Sure Glad To See You."

 

Carley,  Being Stiff And Cold,  Did Not Very Gracefully Disengage Herself

From The High Muddy Wheel And Step. When She Mounted To The Porch She Saw

That Mrs. Hutter Was A Woman Of Middle Age,  Rather Stout,  With Strong Face

Full Of Fine Wavy Lines,  And Kind Dark Eyes.

 

"I'm Miss Burch," Said Carley.

 

"You're The Girl Whose Picture Glenn Kilbourne Has Over His Fireplace,"

Declared The Woman,  Heartily. "I'm Sure Glad To Meet You,  An' My Daughter

Flo Will Be,  Too."

 

That About Her Picture Pleased And Warmed Carley. "Yes,  I'm Glenn

Kilbourne's Fiancee. I've Come West To Surprise Him. Is He Here. . . . Is--

Is He Well?"

 

"Fine. I Saw Him Yesterday. He's Changed A Great Deal From What He Was At

First. Most All The Last Few Months. I Reckon You Won't Know Him. . . . But

You're Wet An' Cold An' You Look Fagged. Come Right In To The Fire."

 

"Thank You; I'm All Right," Returned Carley.

 

At The Doorway They Encountered A Girl Of Lithe And Robust Figure,  Quick In

Her Movements. Carley Was Swift To See The Youth And Grace Of Her; And Then

A Face That Struck Carley As Neither Pretty Nor Beautiful,  But Still

Wonderfully Attractive.

 

"Flo,  Here's Miss Burch," Burst Out Mrs. Hutter,  With Cheerful Importance.

"Glenn Kilbourne's Girl Come All The Way From New York To Surprise Him!"

 

"Oh,  Carley,  I'm Shore Happy To Meet You!" Said The Girl,  In A Voice Of

Slow Drawling Richness. "I Know You. Glenn Has Told Me All About You."

 

If This Greeting,  Sweet And Warm As It Seemed,  Was A Shock To Carley,  She

Gave No Sign. But As She Murmured Something In Reply She Looked With All A

Woman's Keenness Into The Face Before Her. Flo Hutter Had A Fair Skin

Generously Freckled; A Mouth And Chin Too Firmly Cut To Suggest A Softer

Feminine Beauty; And Eyes Of Clear Light Hazel,  Penetrating,  Frank,

Fearless. Her Hair Was Very Abundant,  Almost Silver-Gold In Color,  And It

Was Either Rebellious Or Showed Lack Of Care. Carley Liked The Girl's Looks

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And Liked The Sincerity Of Her Greeting; But Instinctively She Reacted

Antagonistically Because Of The Frank Suggestion Of Intimacy With Glenn.

 

But For That She Would Have Been