The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-05-15
CHAPTER I-Continued

- 80
P
s'You could feel the alkali cake on
your tongue. Well, my head went
back as drank, and got one look
at that woman's face. Her eyes were
on neon my throat, where the
Adams apple had just given that one
big gulp after the first swallow. All
bloodshot the whites of her eyes, and
q look in them like dying man looks
at light. Her mouth was open, and
her lips were all split with the heat
and the dust and the sun, and dry
and flaky as ashes. And then she
shut her lips little and tried to
swallow nothing, and couldn't. There
wasn't any spit in her mouth. /
couldn't down another mouthful,
parching as I was. I'd have seen her
terrible face to the last day of my
life. So 1 righted it, and held it out
to her and said, Here, sister, take the
rest of it. I'm through"
Cousin Jouett Goforth essayed his
little joke. "Are you right sure she
was forty, Yancey, and weather.
beaten? And that about her hair and
boots and hands?"
Cravat, standing behind his wife's
chair, looked down at her; at the fine
white line that marked the parting Of
her thick black hair. With one fore
finger he touched her cheek, gently.
~'Dead sure, Jouett. I left out one
thing, though" Cousin Jouett made
sound signifying, all, I thought so.
~Her teeth" Yancey Cravat went on
thoughtfully. Broken and discol-
ored like those Of woman Of seventy.
And most Of them gone at the side"
Here Yancey could not resist charg-
ing up and down, flirting his coat tails
and generally running the fine flavor
of his victory over the Venable mind.
The Venable mind Cor the prospect
of escaping it) had been one of the
reasons for his dash into the wild
melee of the Run in the first place.
Now he stood surveying these hand
some futile faces, and a great impa-
thence, shook him, and flame of rage
malice flicked him. With these to
goad him, and the knowledge of how.
he had failed, he plunged again into
his story to the end.
81 had planned to try and get a
place on the Santa Fe train that was
standing, steam up, ready to run into
the Nation. But you couldn't get on.
There wasn't room for flea. They
were hanging on the cow-catcher and
Sswarming all over the engine, and sit
ting on top of the cars. 1t was keyed
down to make no more speed than
horse. 1t turned out they didn't even
do that. They went twenty miles in
ninety minutes. / decided I'd use my
Indian pony. I knew I'd get endur-
ance, anyway; II not speed. And that's
what counted in the end.
''There we stood, by the thousands,
all night. Morning, and we began to
line up at the border, as near as
they'd let us go. Militia all along to
keep us back. They had burned the
prairie ahead for miles into the Ma
ton, so as to keep the grass down and
make the way clearer. To smoke out
the sooners, too, who had sneaked in
and were hiding in the scrub oaks, in
the draws, wherever they could. Most
of the killing was due to them. They
had crawled in and staked the land
and stood ready to shoot those of us
who came in, fair and square, in the
Run. knew the piece I wanted. A
little creek ran through the land, and
the prairie rolled a little there, too.
Nothing but blackjacks for miles
around 1t, but on that section, because
of the water, suppose, there were
elms and persimmons and cotton
woods and even grove Of pecans. I
had noticed it many time, riding the
range"
(H'm! Riding the range! All the
Venables made quick mental note of
that. 1t was thus, by stray bits and
snatches, that they managed to piece
together something Of Yancey Crayat's
past.)
"Ten o'clock, and the crowd was
nervous and restless. Thousands from
all parts Of the country had waited
ten years for this day when the land
hungry would be fed. They were like
people starving. I've seen the same
look exactly on the faces of men who
were ravenous> for food.
swell, eleven o'clock, and they were
crowding and cursing and fighting for
places near the line. They shouted
and sang and yelled and argued, and
the sound they made wasn't human at
all. but like thousands of wild animals
penned up. The sun blazed down. 1t
was cruel. The dust hung over every
thing in a thick cloud, binding you
and choking you. The black dust Of
the burned prairie was over every
thing. We were like horde of fiends
with our red eyes and our cracked lips
and our blackened faces. Eleven
thirty 1t was picture straight out
of he'll. The roar grew louder. Peo-
els fought for an inch of gain on the