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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 290/416
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Would
night
come
on
before
they
were
up
with
him
?
“
Look
!
Look
!
There
he
is
!
Quick
,
there
he
goes
!
”
High
on
the
bare
slope
of
the
nearest
hill
,
all
the
posse
,
looking
in
the
direction
of
Delaney
’
s
gesture
,
saw
the
figure
of
a
horseman
emerge
from
an
arroyo
,
filled
with
chaparral
,
and
struggle
at
a
labouring
gallop
straight
up
the
slope
.
Suddenly
,
every
member
of
the
party
shouted
aloud
.
The
horse
had
fallen
,
pitching
the
rider
from
the
saddle
.
The
man
rose
to
his
feet
,
caught
at
the
bridle
,
missed
it
and
the
horse
dashed
on
alone
.
The
man
,
pausing
for
a
second
looked
around
,
saw
the
chase
drawing
nearer
,
then
,
turning
back
,
disappeared
in
the
chaparral
.
Delaney
raised
a
great
whoop
.
“
We
’
ve
got
you
now
.
”
Into
the
slopes
and
valleys
of
the
hills
dashed
the
band
of
horsemen
,
the
trail
now
so
fresh
that
it
could
be
easily
discerned
by
all
.
On
and
on
it
led
them
,
a
furious
,
wild
scramble
straight
up
the
slopes
.
The
minutes
went
by
.
The
dry
bed
of
a
rivulet
was
passed
;
then
another
fence
;
then
a
tangle
of
manzanita
;
a
meadow
of
wild
oats
,
full
of
agitated
cattle
;
then
an
arroyo
,
thick
with
chaparral
and
scrub
oaks
,
and
then
,
without
warning
,
the
pistol
shots
ripped
out
and
ran
from
rider
to
rider
with
the
rapidity
of
a
gatling
discharge
,
and
one
of
the
deputies
bent
forward
in
the
saddle
,
both
hands
to
his
face
,
the
blood
jetting
from
between
his
fingers
.
Dyke
was
there
,
at
bay
at
last
,
his
back
against
a
bank
of
rock
,
the
roots
of
a
fallen
tree
serving
him
as
a
rampart
,
his
revolver
smoking
in
his
hand
.
“
You
’
re
under
arrest
,
Dyke
,
”
cried
the
sheriff
.
“
It
’
s
not
the
least
use
to
fight
.
The
whole
country
is
up
.
”
Dyke
fired
again
,
the
shot
splintering
the
foreleg
of
the
horse
the
sheriff
rode
.
The
posse
,
four
men
all
told
—
the
wounded
deputy
having
crawled
out
of
the
fight
after
Dyke
’
s
first
shot
—
fell
back
after
the
preliminary
fusillade
,
dismounted
,
and
took
shelter
behind
rocks
and
trees
.
On
that
rugged
ground
,
fighting
from
the
saddle
was
impracticable
.
Dyke
,
in
the
meanwhile
,
held
his
fire
,
for
he
knew
that
,
once
his
pistol
was
empty
,
he
would
never
be
allowed
time
to
reload
.
“
Dyke
,
”
called
the
sheriff
again
,
“
for
the
last
time
,
I
summon
you
to
surrender
.
”
