ty atop, camp debris, plenty of signs of recent
occupation everywhere, -- hot embers in which offal still smouldered,
bottles odorous of claret dregs, and an aluminum culinary outfit,
unwashed, as though Quintana and his men had departed in haste.

For in the still valley below, Mike Clinch squatted beside the runway he
had chosen, a cocked rifle across his knees.

The glare in his small, pale eyes waned and flared as distant sounds
broke the forest silence, grew vague, died out, -- the fairy clatter of
a falling leaf, the sudden scurry of a squirrel, a feathery rustle of
swift wings in play or combat, the soft crash of a rotten bough sagging
earthward to enrich the soil that grew it.

And, as Clinch squatted there, murderously intent, ever the fixed
obsession burned in his fever brain, stirring his thin lips incessant
muttering, -- a sort of soundless invocation, part chronicle, part
prayer:

"O God A'mighty, in your big, swell mansion up there, all has went
contrary with me sence you let that there damn millionaire, Harrod, come
into this here forest. ... He went and built unto himself an habitation,
and he put up a wall of law all around me where I was earnin' a lawful
livin' in Thy nice, clean wilderness. ... And now comes this here
Quintana and robs my girlie. ... I promised her mother I'd make a lady
of her little Eve. ... I loved my wife, O Lord. ... Once she showed me a
piece in the Bible, -- I ain't never found it sence, -- but it said:
`And the woman, she fled into the wilderness where there was a place
prepared for her of God.' ... That's what _you_ wrote into your own
Bible, O God! You can't go back on it. I seen it.

"And now I wanta to ask, What place did you prepare for my Eve? What
spot have you reference to? You didn't mean my `Dump,' did you? Why,
Lord, that ain't no place for no lady. ... And now Quintana has went and
robbed me of what I'd saved up for Eve. ... Does that go with Thee, O
Lord? No, it don't. And it don't go with me, neither. I'm a-goin' to
git Quintana. Then I'm a-goin' to git them two minks that robbed my
girlie, -- I am! ... Jake Kloon, he done it in cahoots with Earl
Leverett; and Quintana set 'em on. And they gotta die, O Lord of
Israel, them there Egyptians is about to hop the twig. ... I ain't
aimin' to be mean to nobody. I buy hootch of them that runs it. I eat
mountain mutton in season and out. I trade with law-breakers, I do.
But, Lord, I gotta get my girlie o