The Untamed by Max Brand MP3 Audiobook

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The Untamed by Max Brand
1949 Whistlin' Dan Barry was slight, but with something more of wolf than of man in him…

Product Code: 232

Digital Audiobook -- in stock

US$9.95

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All works by Max Brand

Availability: Usually ships within 48 hours. Ships from and sold by Babblebooks.com.

Running time: 7 hr 9 min

The unabridged classic on MP3 audio, narrated by Anais 9000. Three playback speeds on one disk; etext edition included. Running time: 7.2 hours (slow), 6.5 hours (medium), 6.0 hours (fast).

Chapter I Pan of the Desert

Even to a high-flying bird this was a country to be passed over quickly. It was burned and brown, littered with fragments of rock, whether vast or small, as if the refuse were tossed here after the making of the world. A passing shower drenched the bald knobs of a range of granite hills and the slant morning sun set the wet rocks aflame with light. In a short time the hills lost their halo and resumed their brown. The moisture evaporated. The sun rose higher and looked sternly across the desert as if he searched for any remaining life which still struggled for existence under his burning curse.

And he found life. Hardy cattle moved single or in small groups and browsed on the withered bunch grass. Summer scorched them, winter humped their backs with cold and arched up their bellies with famine, but they were a breed schooled through generations for this fight against nature. In this junk-shop of the world, rattlesnakes were rulers of the soil. Overhead the buzzards, ominous black specks pendant against the white-hot sky, ruled the air.

It seemed impossible that human beings could live in this rock-wilderness. If so, they must be to other men what the lean, hardy cattle of the hills are to the corn-fed stabled beeves of the States.

Over the shoulder of a hill came a whistling which might have been attributed to the wind, had not this day been deathly calm. It was fit music for such a scene, for it seemed neither of heaven nor earth, but the soul of the great god Pan come back to earth to charm those nameless rocks with his wild, sweet piping. It changed to harmonious phrases loosely connected. Such might be the exultant improvisations of a master violinist.

A great wolf, or a dog as tall and rough coated as a wolf, trotted around the hillside. He paused with one foot lifted and lolling, crimson tongue, as he scanned the distance and then turned to look back in the direction from which he had come. The weird music changed to whistled notes as liquid as a flute. The sound drew closer. A horseman rode out on the shoulder and checked his mount. One could not choose him at first glance as a type of those who fight nature in a region where the thermometer moves through a scale of a hundred and sixty degrees in the year to an accompaniment of cold-stabbing winds and sweltering suns. A thin, handsome face with large brown eyes and black hair, a body tall but rather slenderly made--he might have been a descendant of some ancient family of Norman nobility; but could such proud gentry be found riding the desert in a tall-crowned sombrero with chaps on his legs and a red bandana handkerchief knotted around his throat? That first glance made the rider seem strangely out of place in such surroundings. One might even smile at the contrast, but at the second glance the smile would fade, and at the third, it would be replaced with a stare of interest. It was impossible to tell why one respected this man, but after a time there grew a suspicion of unknown strength in this lone rider, strength like that of a machine which is stopped but only needs a spark of fire to plunge it into irresistible action. Strangely enough, the youthful figure seemed [...]

tex calder prided himself on being a light sleeper years spent in constant danger enabled him to keep his sense of hearing alert even when he slept he had never been surprised it was his boast that he never would be therefore when a hand dropped lightly on his shoulder he started erect from his blankets with a curse and grasped his revolver a strong grip on his wrist paralysed his fingers whistling dan leaned above him

"wake up" said latter

"what devil--" breathed marshal "you travel like a cloud shadow dan you make no sound"

"wake up and talk to me"

"i'm awake all right what's happened"

there was a moment of silence while dan seemed to be trying for speech

black bart at other side of clearing pointed his nose at yellow moon and wailed he was very close but sound was so controlled that it seemed to come at a great distance from some wild spirit wandering between earth and heaven

instead of speaking dan jumped to his feet and commenced pacing up and down up and down a rapid tireless stride at his heels wolf slunk with lowered head and tail strange fellow was in some great trouble calder could see and it stirred him mightily to know that wild man had turned to him for help yet he would ask no questions

when in doubt cattleman rolls a cigarette and that was what calder did he smoked and waited at last inevitable came

"how old are you tex"

"forty-four"

"that's a good deal you ought to know something"

"maybe"

"about women"

"ah" said calder

"bronchos is cut out chiefly after one pattern" went on dan "they's chiefly jest meanness are women same--jest cut after one pattern"

"what pattern dan"

"the pattern of delilah they ain't no trust to be put in 'em"

"a good many of us have found that out"

"i thought one woman was different from rest"

"we all think that woman in particular is divine woman in general is--hell"

"ay but this one--" he stopped and set his teeth

"what has she done"

"she--" he hesitated and when he spoke again his voice did not tremble there was a deep hurt and wonder in it "she double-crossed me"

"when do you mean to say you've met a woman tonight out here among willows--where--how----"

"tex----"

"ay dan"

"it's--it's hell"

"it is now but you'll forget her mountains desert and above all time--they'll cure you my boy"

"not in a whole century tex<>"

calder waited curiously for explanation it came

"jest to think of her is like hearing music oh god tex what c'n i do to fight agin this here cold feelin' at my heart"

dan slipped down beside marshal and latter dropped a sympathetic hand over lean brown fingers they returned pressure with a bone-crushing grip

"fight dan it will make you forget her"

"her skin is softer'n satin tex<>"

"ay but you'll never touch it again dan"

"her eyes are deeper'n a pool at night an' her hair is all gold like ripe corn"

"you'll never look into her eyes again dan and you'll never touch gold of that hair"

"god"

word was hardly more than a whisper but it brought black bart leaping to his feet

dan spoke again "tex i'm thankin' you for listenin' to me i wanted to talk bein' silent was burning' me up there's one thing more"

"fire it out lad"

"this evenin' i told you i hated no man but jim silent"

"yes"

"an' now they's another of his gang sometime--when she's standin' by--i'm goin' to take him by throat till he don't breathe no more then i'll throw him down in front of her an' ask her if she c'n kiss life back into his lips"

calder was actually shaking with excitement but he was wise enough not to speak

"tex"

"ay lad"

"but when i've choked his damned life away----"

"yes"

"there'll be five more that seen her shamin' me tex--all hell is bustin' loose inside me"

for a moment calder watched but that stare of cold hate mastered him he turned his head

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