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.He rose, still groggy as he walked over to the chifforobe.He lifted hisduckcloth pants and wool socks from the shelf, stripped his huntingjacket from a hanger.Pemberton tossed them on the bed, then retrievedhis heavy lace-up hunting boots from the hall closet before sitting besideSerena, who was pulling on her jodhpurs.He closed his eyes, trying tostall the headache the morning light intensified. And you re fine here alone? Pemberton said, his eyes still shut as hespoke. Yes, all I ve got to do is make sure what s left in the kitchen and thecommissary gets loaded on a railcar.But first I ll take the eagle out, a fi-nal hunt before we leave this place. Serena rose, looking toward the door as she spoke. Serena 351 I have to go. Pemberton reached for her hand, held it a moment. Thank you for the rif le, and the birthday party. You re welcome, Serena said, withdrawing her hand. I hope youfind your panther, Pemberton. After Serena left, he contemplated going to the dining hall for break-fast, but his stomach argued against it.He dressed but for his boots, thenlay back down on the bed and closed his eyes.For just a few minutes, hetold himself, but Pemberton didn t wake until Galloway knocked on thedoor.Pemberton yelled he d be out in ten minutes and went to the bath-room.He filled the basin with cold water and plunged his whole headinto it, kept it submerged as long as he could stand.He raised up and didthe same thing again.The cold water helped.Pemberton toweled off andcombed his hair so it lay sleek against his scalp, then he brushed his teethas well to dim the nauseating smell of his own breath.He found the as-pirin bottle on the medicine shelf and took out two, capped the bottleand put it in his pocket.As he was about to turn, he saw himself in themirror.His eyes were bloodshot and his pallor could have been better,but his being up and about at all seemed a triumph considering how he dfelt earlier.Pemberton picked up his jacket from the bed and went intothe front of the house where the new rifle lay on the fireboard.Hecouldn t remember setting it there last night, or being given the box of.35 caliber bullets beside it. Heard you had quite a evening of it, Galloway said as Pembertonstepped onto the porch, his face grimacing against the bright cloud-less day.Pemberton ignored Galloway s comment, focusing instead on Frizzell struck parked beside the commissary.The photographer had set up histripod on the railless track where the skidder boom had once sat, his cam-era aimed not at any worker living or the dead but the decimated valleyitself.Frizzell hunched beneath his black shawl, oblivious to the fact thatSerena, atop the gelding with the eagle on the pommel, rode toward him. 352 ron rash What the hell is he doing? Pemberton asked. No idea, but your missus looks to be going to find out, Galloway saidand glanced skyward. We need to be going.We got us a late start as it is. Go on to the car, Pemberton said, and handed the rifle and box ofbullets to Galloway. I m going to find out what this is about. Pemberton walked toward the commissary as Frizzell emerged frombeneath the cloth, eyes blinking as if just awakened as he spoke with Ser-ena.Pemberton passed the office, empty now, even the windows taken tothe camp.The door was ajar, a few skittering leaves already wind-brushedinside. Secretary Albright s commissioned a photograph of the devastationwe ve wrecked upon the land, Serena said to Pemberton when he joinedher. A further way to justify his park. This land is still ours for another week, Pemberton said to Frizzell. You re trespassing. But she just said I m free to take all the photographs I wish, Frizzellobjected. Why not, Pemberton, Serena said. I m pleased with what we vedone here.Aren t you? Yes, of course, Pemberton said, but I do think Mr.Frizzell shouldcompensate us with a photograph. Frizzell s brow furrowed in surprise. Of this? the photographer asked, his palm turned upward towardthe valley. No, a photograph of us, Pemberton replied. I thought I made my views on such things clear at the VanderbiltEstate, Serena said. Not a portrait, just a photograph. Serena did not answer. Indulge me this one time, Pemberton said. We have no photographof us together.Think of it as a last birthday present. For a few moments Serena did not respond
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