CHAPTER XXXVII
TUSK
Early that same morning as Jess approached the place where Dale was "laying out" near Tusk's cabin, he stopped a moment, listening; then gave the clear call of a quail. After waiting several minutes he whistled again, and as still no answer came he proceeded with extreme caution.
The sun was not yet up, but in the sky were bars of red that reached high above the mountains, and by this light he saw the watcher, face down upon the rocks, asleep. Nature, his god, had commanded, and he obeyed. Jess smiled, then noiselessly sat down to wait.
Noon came. The sheriff ate part of his lunch, lit his pipe, and settled back for a longer wait. He felt an infinite relief to see this strange man sleeping, for in his gruff make-up had grown a concern for the mountaineer approaching affection. Now he swore softly to himself that, even though Potter should come, he would let him pass rather than wake Dale.
But also during the morning his interest had been held by another thing. Idly facing the east, his gaze wandering over the scarred knobs or their wooded crests, he had gradually become aware of an occasional movement on a spur far up the side of Snarly. Squinting his eyes he could distinctly make out something, but whether it were man or beast he could not be sure. Certainly it moved more as a restless bear whose cub, doubtless unable to master the climb, whined somewhere below. He turned this over in his mind.
It was three o'clock when Dale stirred. The sheriff smiled as he watched Nature gradually remove her bandage from the sleeper, who now, instantly awake, sprang up in dismay.
"Gawd! What time is it?"
Jess held out his watch.
"I must a-slept eighteen hours," the mountaineer gasped, as though such a thing were scarcely in the range of possibility.