The latter was compelled to
remain concealed behind his rock, while Calumet had the freedom of the
gully. He did not anticipate that Taggart would again attempt to
retreat in the same way, nor did he think that he would risk charging
him, for he would not be certain at what point in the gully he would be
likely to find his enemy and thus a charge would probably result
disastrously for him.
Taggart was apparently satisfied of the watchfulness of Calumet, for he
stayed discreetly behind his rock. Twice during the next hour his
rifle cracked when he caught a glimpse of Calumet's head, and each time
he knew he had missed, for Calumet's laugh followed the reports. Once,
after a long interval of silence, thinking that Calumet was at the
other end of the gully, he moved the small rock which he had pushed
beyond the edge of the large one, using his rifle barrel as a prod. A
bullet from Calumet's pistol struck the rock, glanced from it and
seared the back of his hand, bringing a curse to his lips.
"Told you so," came Calumet's voice. "I hope it ain't nothin' serious.
But I'm gettin' my hand in."
This odd duel continued with long lapses of silence while the moon grew
to a disk of pale, liquid silver in the west, enduring through the
bleak, chill time preceding the end of night, finally fading and
disappearing as the far eastern distance began to glow with the gray
light of dawn.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189