Fair Land, Fair Land by A. B. Guthrie Jr. Read Free Book Online Page A

thinkin'."
    The wind swept the words away, swept them along with
the snow into the moving trees, to the mountains and to hell and gone
where.
    Summers tried to look the country over. There was
snow on his eyelashes, and he brushed it away. The horses stood
hunched and sad. Summers set the string in motion again and led
around to a small open space just beyond a stand of trees where the
wind wouldn't hit them so hard.
    They dismounted and set to work, Higgins helping to
string a rope, tree to tree, and throwing the square of canvas over
it. They tied and pegged the canvas and partly closed one open end
with brush. There was wood to gather and a fire to be built. Summers
got the fire going while Higgins brought in the wood.
    Just seeing the fire was some comfort, Higgins
thought. He brushed snow aside and spread a horse blanket to sit on.
Who cared if the blanket stunk? He sat down, arms and legs
outstretched toward the blaze. He could hear the horses pawing for
grass and Feather's bell sounding.
    They had brought a joint of meat in with them. To
fingers still numb it felt frozen. The fire began to warm the
makeshift tent.
    Without speaking Summers went out and came in with
the jug. "Whoever invented whiskey was thinkin' of times like
these," he said.
    " Want to send up a prayer for him?"
    " I figure his sins is forgiven."
    Summers passed the jug to Higgins, who drank and
passed it back. "I'm hopin' there's no bottom to it."
    " It's still better'n half full."
    They roasted the meat over the fire after sampling
the whiskey again.
    Afterward Higgins said, "There's not enough wood
to last the night out." He took the ax and started into the
night.
    " Watch out you don't get lost," Summers
told him.
    The cold took hold once he was outside. The wind
walloped him, let up and walloped again, driving snow into his face.
A man couldn't carry enough clothes to keep warm. He'd just give in
like an overloaded pack horse. He bent his head and moved on, his
feet sinking into a drift. Looking back, he could just see the tent,
see it as a dim glow from the fire inside. He made two trips with
wood and, shaking, sat down again by the fire.
    He slept cold that night, even with most of his
clothes on and the stinking horse blanket spread over his covers. He
kept getting up to feed the fire. The cold didn't seem to bother
Summers that much. Likely he was made of tougher stuff.
    They got up at the edge of dawn. The wind had ceased
but not the chill. Higgins hit at the tent where the snow had bellied
it in. The snow slid off, being small-grained, each grain frozen.
    Summers was putting on the capote that he had used
over his bed. For all that he wore buckskins mostly, he put on boots,
not moccasins. He yanked the coonskin cap down on his head. They had
come to wearing the things in cold weather, Higgins having dug them
out of a pack while saying, "My old man said, keep your head
warm and your other parts will take care of themselves. He was
half-right sometimes."
    Summers said, "I'll see to the horses."
    " Christ, Dick, we'll never find the trail in
this snow."
    " You think I'm a plumb fool?"
    " I ain't never sure about you."
    If they weren't sure-enough friends, Higgins thought,
talk like that would sound sore. Higgins answered to Summers' grin.
"Loan me your scattergun, will you?" Summers asked. "Might
see a chipmunk or something to shoot."
    " If you don't, it's empty bellies today."
    Summers went out. The horses couldn't be far away,
not from the sound of the bell.
    There was more wood to bring in, and another little
item to attend to, like squatting in the snow. Higgins put on his
capote and cap. His boots were stiff, of a mind, the damn things, to
freeze his feet. He poked his hands into heavy gloves, grabbed a rag
and went out.
    Once away from the tent he put the gloves in his
pocket and lowered his pants. God wouldn't ask a man to bare his ass
as he had to. It was the devil at work. Finished he wiped himself
with the rag and adjusted his