CHAPTER XXVII.
THE HERMIT.
At last little Fay was placed within the tent on the softest bed thatcould be prepared for her.
"In ther mornin'," said Old Rocks, "I'll hunt up her mamma."
The fire glowed pleasantly, being replenished now and then by Barney.
Professor Scotch occupied the hammock, Frank stretched himself at fulllength on the ground, and the guide sat with his back against a tree,still pulling away at the black pipe, his constant companion. He hadsmoked so much that his flesh seemed cured, like that of a ham.
At heart Old Rocks was tender as a child, but he had a way ofspluttering and growling that made him seem grouty and cross-grained. Heseemed to take real satisfaction in picking a quarrel with any one.
Professor Scotch was alarmed by the story Frank had told of theencounter with the Blackfeet, and he was for leaving that vicinity assoon as possible.
"Not till I get a photograph of real wild buffalo," said the boy,stiffly.
Old Rocks grunted derisively.
"I reckon you came as nigh it ter-day as ye will at all," he said."You've clicked yer old machine at everything from one end o' ther parkto t'other, an' I ain't seen nary picter yit."
"They have not been developed."
"Woosh! Whatever is thet?"
Frank explained, and the guide listened, with an expression of derisionon his face.
"I'll allow you don't know northin' abaout takin' picters," drawled theman. "I hed my picter took up at Billings last winter, an' ther man astook it didn't hev ter go through no such fussin' as thet."
"How do you know?"
"Wa-al, I know."
"But how do you know?"
"I jest know, thet's how!"
Frank laughed.
"You are like some other people who know everything about anything theydon't know anything about."
That was quite enough to start the old fellow, and he seemed ready tofight at the drop of the hat; but, at this moment, something happened todivert his attention.
Out of the darkness stalked a man, who calmly and deliberately advancedtoward the party.
"Halt thar!" cried Old Rocks, catching up a rifle and covering thestranger.
The man did not pay the least attention to the command, but continued toadvance.
"Halt, or I'll shoot!" shouted the guide.
Still the unknown refused to obey, and, to the bewilderment of OldRocks, he walked straight up to the muzzle of the weapon, where hestopped, saying:
"I knew you wouldn't shoot. If you had, you could not have killed me.Nothing can kill me, because I have sought death everywhere, and I havenot been able to find it. It is he who flees from death who finds itfirst."
Then he sat down.
"Wa-al, dern me!" gasped Old Rocks. "I dunno why I didn't soak yer; butthar wuz somethin' held me back."
"It was the hand of fate."
The man was dressed roughly, but he carried a handsome rifle. Hiswide-brimmed hat was slouched over his eyes, so the expression of hisface could not have been seen very well, even if it had not been coveredby a full brown beard. His hair was long and unkempt.
Having seated himself on the ground, he sat and stared into the fire forsome moments before speaking again. Finally he turned a bit, saying:
"Who was singing here a short time ago?"
Frank explained that he had been singing, and the stranger said:
"I don't know why I should wish to take a look at you, for you caused memore misery than I have known for a year."
"Thot's a compliment fer ye're singing, Frankie!" chuckled Barney.
"I tried not to listen," said the stranger; "but I could not tear myselfaway. What right has a man without a home to listen to songs that fillhis soul with memories of home and little ones!"
He bowed his face on his hands, and his body shook a bit, betraying thathe was struggling to suppress his emotions.
After a moment, Old Rocks said:
"I reckons I knows yer now. You're the hermit."
The man did not stir or speak.
"Ain't yer the hermit?" asked the guide.
"Yes," was the bitter reply, "I am a man without a home or a name. Somehave said that there is trouble with my brain, but they are wrong. I amnot deranged. This is the first time in a year that I have sought thesociety of human beings, unless it was to trade for such things as Ineed to sustain life. It was those songs that brought me here. Theyseemed to act like a magnet, and I could not keep away."
Then he turned to Frank, and asked him to sing one of the lullabys overagain.
For all of his peculiar manner, the man seemed sane enough, and the boydecided to humor him.
Frank sang, and the man sat and listened, his face still bowed on hishands. When the song was ended, and the last echo had died out along adistant line of bluffs, the man still sat thus.
Those who saw him were impressed. Beyond a doubt, this man had sufferedsome great affliction that had caused him to shun his fellows and becomeone "without a home or a name."
All at once, with a deep sigh, he rose. He was finely built, and,properly dressed and shaved, he must have been handsome.
"Thank you," he said, addressing Frank. "I will not trouble you longer.I am going now."
"Look yar," broke in Old Rocks, in his harsh way; "I wants ter warn youag'in comin' round yere ther way you done a short time ago. It ain'thealthy none whatever."
"What do you mean?"
"Jest this: I might take a fancy ter shoot fust an' talk it overarterward. I don't want ter shoot yer."
A strange, sad smile came to the man's face.
"You need not fear," he said. "If you were to shoot at me, you would nothit me."
The guide gave a snort.
"Whut's thet?" he cried. "I allow you hain't seen me shoot any to speakof, pard. I ain't in ther habit of missin'."
"That makes no difference. A man who seeks death cannot die. Fate wouldturn your bullet aside."
"Wa-al, I don't allow thet I wants ter try it, fer Fate might not bequick enough. Jest you keep away, 'less you hollers out ter let us knowwhen ye're comin'."
As the hermit turned away he happened to glance into the tent, the frontof which was still open. The firelight shone in and fell on the face ofthe tired child, who was sleeping sweetly.
The man paused, staring at the face revealed by the flickering light.His hand was lifted to his head, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet,his face marked by a look of astonishment and pain.
Old Rocks, Professor Scotch, and the boys watched the hermit's everymovement with breathless wonderment. They were impressed, they were heldspellbound, they scarcely breathed.
For some moments the strange man stood there, and then, inch by inch,step by step, he advanced toward the tent. He seemed trying to holdback, yet there appeared to be some power dragging him toward thesleeping child.
Frank's first thought was that the man might harm Fay, but the look onthe face of the hermit told that he had no such intention. Into the tenthe crept, and he knelt beside the bed on which little Fay was sleeping,gazing longingly into her pretty face. A sob came from the depths of hisbroad breast, and, finally, he stooped and lightly kissed the child'scheek. As he did so, the little girl murmured in her dreams:
"Papa!"
The hermit sprang up, leaped away, and, with a low cry of intense pain,fled into the darkness.