Your pardner yonder looks a little misgive.
He aint got a lot of bacon to spare.
You aint neither.
They watched the sun rise below them. The horses standing out on the bench grazing raised their heads and watched it. Rawlins drank the last of his coffee and shook out his cup and reached in his shirtpocket for his tobacco.
You think there'll be a day when the sun wont rise?
Yeah, said John Grady. Judgment day.
When you think that'll be?
Whenever He decides to hold it.
Judgment day, said Rawlins. You believe in all that?
I dont know. Yeah, I reckon. You?
Rawlins put the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and lit it and flipped away the match. I dont know. Maybe.
I knowed you was a infidel, said Blevins.
You dont know a goddamned thing, said Rawlins. Just be quiet and dont make no bigger ass of yourself than what you already are.
John Grady got up and walked over and picked up his saddle by the horn and threw his blanket over his shoulder and turned and looked at them. Let's go, he said.
They were down out of the mountains by midmorning and riding on a great plain grown with sideoats grama and basketgrass and dotted with lechugilla. Here they encountered the first riders they'd seen and they halted and watched while they approached on the plain a mile away, three men on horses leading a train of packanimals carrying empty kiacks.
What do you reckon they are? said Rawlins.
We ought not to be stopped like this, said Blevins. If we can see them they can see us.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? said Rawlins.
What would you think if you seen them stop?
He's right, said John Grady. Let's keep ridin.
They were zacateros headed into the mountains to gather chino grass. If they were surprised to see Americans horseback in that country they gave no sign. They asked them if they'd seen a brother to one of them who was in the mountains with his wife and two grown girls but they'd seen no one. The Mexicans sat their horses and took in their outfits with slow movements of their dark eyes. They themselves were a rough lot, dressed half in rags, their hats marbled with grease and sweat, their boots mended with raw cowhide. They rode old squareskirted saddles with the wood worn through the leather and they rolled cigarettes in strips of cornhusks and lit them with esclarajos of flint and steel and bits of fluff in an empty cartridge case. One of them carried an old worn Colt stuck in his belt with the gate flipped open to keep it from sliding through and they smelled of smoke and tallow and sweat and they looked as wild and strange as the country they were in.
Son de Tejas? they said.
Sí, said John Grady.
They nodded.
John Grady smoked and watched them. For all their shabbiness they were well mounted and he watched those black eyes to see could he tell what they thought but he could tell nothing. They spoke of the country and of the weather in the country and they said that it was yet cold in the mountains. No one offered to dismount. They looked out over the terrain as if it were a problem to them. Something they'd not quite decided about. The little mules entrained behind them had dropped asleep standing almost as soon as they'd halted.
The leader finished his cigarette and let fall the stub of it into the track. Bueno, he said. Vámonos.
He nodded at the Americans. Buena suerte, he said. He put the long rowels of his spurs to the horse and they moved on. The mules passed on behind them eyeing the horses in the road and switching their tails although there seemed to be no flies in that country at all.
In the afternoon they watered the horses at a clear stream running out of the southwest. They walked the creek and drank and filled and stoppered their canteens. There were antelope out on the plain perhaps two miles distant, all standing with their heads up.
They rode on. There was good grass in the level floor of the valley and cattle the color of housecats to tortoiseshell and calico moved off constantly before them up through the buckthorn or stood along the low rise of ancient ground running down to the east to watch them as they passed along the road. That night they camped in the low hills and they cooked a jackrabbit that Blevins had shot with his pistol. He fielddressed it with his pocketknife and buried it in the sandy ground with the skin on and built the fire over it. He said it was the way the Indians did.
You ever eat a jackrabbit? said Rawlins.
He shook his head. Not yet, he said.
You better rustle some more wood if you aim to eat thisn. It'll cook.
What's the strangest thing you ever ate?
Strangest thing I ever ate, said Blevins. I guess I'd have to say that would be a oyster.
A mountain oyster or a real oyster?
A real oyster.
How were they cooked?
They wasnt cooked. They just laid there in their shells. You put hotsauce on em.
You ate that?
I did.
How'd it taste?
About like you'd expect.
They sat watching the fire.
Where you from, Blevins? said Rawlins.
Blevins looked at Rawlins and looked back into the fire. Uvalde County, he said. Up on the Sabinal River.
What'd you run off for?
What'd you?
I'm seventeen years old. I can go wherever I want.
So can I.
John Grady was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him leaning against his saddle and smoking a cigarette. You've run off before, aint you? he said.
Yeah.
What'd they do, catch you?
Yeah. I was settin pins in a bowfin alley in Ardmore Oklahoma and I got dogbit by a bulldog took a chunk out of my leg the size of a Sunday roast and it got infected and the man I worked for carried me down to the doctor and they thought I had rabies or somethin and all hell busted loose and I got shipped back to Uvalde County.
What were you doin in Ardmore Oklahoma?
Settin pins in a bowlin alley.
How come you wound up there?
There was a show was supposed to come through Uvalde, town of Uvalde, and I'd saved up to go see it but they never showed up because the man that run the show got thowed in jail in Tyler Texas for havin a dirty show. Had this striptease that was part of the deal. I got down there and it said on the poster they was goin to be in Ardmore Oklahoma in two weeks and that's how come me to be in Ardmore Oklahoma.
You went all the way to Oklahoma to see a show?
That's what I'd saved up to do and I meant to do it.
Did you see the show in Ardmore?
N0. They never showed up there neither.
Blevins hauled up one leg of his overalls and turned his leg to the firelight.
Yonder's where that son of a bitch bit me, he said. I'd as soon been bit by a alligator.
What made you set out for Mexico? said Rawlins.
Same reason as you.
What reason is that?
Cause you knowed they'd play hell sowed in oats findin your ass down here.
There aint nobody huntin me.
Blevins rolled down the leg of his overalls and poked at the fire with a stick. I told that son of a bitch I wouldnt take a whippin off of him and I didnt.
Your daddy?
My daddy never come back from the war.
Your stepdaddy?
Yeah.
Rawlins leaned forward and spat into the fire. You didnt shoot him did you?
I would of. He knowed it too.
What was a bulldog doin in a bowlin alley?
I didnt get bit in the bowfin alley. I was workin in the bowfin alley, that's all.
What were you doin that you got dogbit?
Nothin. I wasnt doin nothin.
Rawlins leaned and spat into the fire. Where were you at at the time?
You got a awful lot of goddamned questions. And dont be spittin in the fire where I got supper cookin.
What? said Rawlins.
I said dont be spittin in the fire where I got supper cookin.
Rawlins looked at John Grady. John Grady had started to laugh. He looked at Blevins. Supper? he said. You'll think supper when you try and eat that stringy son of a bitch.
Blevins nodded. You let me know if you dont want your share, he said.