clacking of his jaw.
"Jesus Christ, quit hammerin and get over here. Bedroll's bigenough," said Jack in an irritable sleep-clogged voice. It was bigenough, warm enough, and in a little while they deepened theirintimacy considerably. Ennis ran full-throttle on all roads whetherfence mending or money spending, and he wanted none of it whenJack seized his left hand and brought it to his erect cock. Ennisjerked his hand away as though he'd touched fire, got to his knees,unbuckled his belt, shoved his pants down, hauled Jack onto allfours and, with the help of the clear slick and a little spit, enteredhim, nothing he'd done before but no instruction manual needed.They went at it in silence except for a few sharp intakes of breathand Jack's choked "gun's goin off," then out, down, and asleep.Ennis woke in red dawn with his pants around his knees, a top-gradeheadache, and Jack butted against him; without saying anythingabout it both knew how it would go for the rest of the summer, sheepbe damned.
As it did go. They never talked about the sex, let it happen, at firstonly in the tent at night, then in the full daylight with the hot sunstriking down, and at evening in the fire glow, quick, rough,laughing and snorting, no lack of noises, but saying not a goddamnword except once Ennis said, "I'm not no queer," and Jack jumped inwith "Me neither. A one-shot thing. Nobody's business but ours."There were only the two of them on the mountain flying in theeuphoric, bitter air, looking down on the hawk's back and thecrawling lights of vehicles on the plain below, suspended aboveordinary affairs and distant from tame ranch dogs barking in the darkhours. They believed themselves invisible, not knowing Joe Aguirrehad watched them through his 10x42 binoculars for ten minutes oneday, waiting until they'd buttoned up their jeans, waiting until Ennisrode back to the sheep, before bringing up the message that Jack'speople had sent word that his uncle Harold was in the hospital withpneumonia and expected not to make it. Though he did, and Aguirrecame up again to say so, fixing Jack with his bold stare, notbothering to dismount.
In August Ennis spent the whole night with Jack in the main campand in a blowy hailstorm the sheep took off west and got among aherd in another allotment. There was a damn miserable time for fivedays, Ennis and a Chilean herder with no English trying to sort themout, the task almost impossible as the paint brands were worn andfaint at this late season. Even when the numbers were right Ennisknew the sheep were mixed. In a disquieting way everything seemedmixed.
The first snow came early, on August thirteenth, piling up a foot, butwas followed by a quick melt. The next week Joe Aguirre sent wordto bring them down --another, bigger storm was moving in from thePacific --and they packed in the game and moved off the mountainwith the sheep, stones rolling at their heels, purple cloud crowding infrom the west and the metal smell of coming snow pressing them on.The mountain boiled with demonic energy, glazed with flickering
