CHAPTER III
THE PURSUIT
Straight across the prairie she galloped, not daring to stop for aninstant, with the voice pursuing her. For hours it seemed to ring in herears, and even after she was far beyond any possibility of hearing it shecould not be sure but there was now and then a faint echo of it ringingyet, "Hello!"--ringing like some strange bird amid the silence of theworld.
There were cattle and sheep grazing on the bench, and the horse would fainhave stopped to dine with them; but the girl urged him on, seeming to makehim understand the danger that might be pursuing them.
It was hours before she dared stop for the much-needed rest. Her brain hadgrown confused with the fright and weariness. She felt that she could notmuch longer stay in the saddle. She might fall asleep. The afternoon sunwould soon be slipping down behind the mountains. When and where dared sherest? Not in the night, for that would be almost certain death, with wildbeasts about.
A little group of greasewood offered a scanty shelter. As if the beastunderstood her thoughts he stopped with a neigh, and looked around at her.She scanned the surroundings. There were cattle all about. They had lookedup curiously from their grazing as the horse flew by, but were now goingquietly on about their business. They would serve as a screen if anyshould be still pursuing her. One horse among the other animals in alandscape would not be so noticeable as one alone against the sky. Thegreasewood was not far from sloping ground where she might easily flee forhiding if danger approached.
The horse had already begun to crop the tender grass at his feet as if hislife depended upon a good meal. The girl took some more beans from thepack she carried, and mechanically ate them, though she felt no appetite,and her dry throat almost refused to swallow. She found her eyes shuttingeven against her will; and in desperation she folded the old coat into apillow, and with the horse's bridle fastened in her belt she lay down.
The sun went away; the horse ate his supper; and the girl slept. By and bythe horse drowsed off too, and the bleating sheep in the distance, thelowing of the cattle, the sound of night-birds, came now and again fromthe distance; but still the girl slept on. The moon rose full and round,shining with flickering light through the cottonwoods; and the girlstirred in a dream and thought some one was pursuing her, but slept onagain. Then out through the night rang a vivid human voice, "Hello!Hello!" The horse roused from his sleep, and stamped his feet nervously,twitching at his bridle; but the relaxed hand that lay across the leatherstrap did not quicken, and the girl slept on. The horse listened, andthought he heard a sound good to his ear. He neighed, and neighed again;but the girl slept on.
The first ray of the rising sun at last shot through the gray of dawning,and touched the girl full in the face as it slid under the branches of hersheltering tree. The light brought her acutely to her senses. Before sheopened her eyes she seemed to be keenly and painfully aware of much thathad gone on during her sleep. With another flash her eyes flew open. Notbecause she willed it, but rather as if the springs that held the lidsshut had unexpectedly been touched and they sprang back because they hadto.
She shrank, as her eyes opened, from a new day, and the memory of the oldone. Then before her she saw something which kept her motionless, andalmost froze the blood in her veins. She could not stir nor breathe, andfor a moment even thought was paralyzed. There before her but a few feetaway stood a man! Beyond him, a few feet from her own horse, stood hishorse. She could not see it without turning her head, and that she darednot do; but she knew it was there, felt it even before she noticed thedouble stamping and breathing of the animals. Her keen senses seemed tomake the whole surrounding landscape visible to her without the moving ofa muscle. She knew to a nicety exactly how her weapons lay, and whatmovement would bring her hand to the trigger of her pistol; yet shestirred not.
Gradually she grew calm enough to study the man before her. He stoodalmost with his back turned toward her, his face just half turned so thatone cheek and a part of his brow were visible. He was broad-shouldered andwell built. There was strength in every line of his body. She felt howpowerless she would be in his grasp. Her only hope would be in taking himunaware. Yet she moved not one atom.
He wore a brown flannel shirt, open at the throat, brown leather belt andboots; in short, his whole costume was in harmonious shades of brown, andlooked new as if it had been worn but a few days. His soft felt sombrerowas rolled back from his face, and the young red sun tinged the shortbrown curls to a ruddy gold. He was looking toward the rising sun. Thegleam of it shot across his brace of pistols in his belt, and flashed twinrays into her eyes. Then all at once the man turned and looked at her.
Instantly the girl sprang to her feet, her hands upon her pistol, her eyesmeeting with calm, desperate defiance the blue ones that were turned toher. She was braced against a tree, and her senses were measuring thedistance between her horse and herself, and deciding whether escape werepossible.
"Good morning," said the man politely. "I hope I haven't disturbed yournap."
The girl eyed him solemnly, and said nothing. This was a new kind of man.He was not like the one from whom she had fled, nor like any she had everseen; but he might be a great deal worse. She had heard that the world wasfull of wickedness.
"You see," went on the man with an apologetic smile, which lit up his eyesin a wonderfully winning way, "you led me such a desperate race nearly allday yesterday that I was obliged to keep you in sight when I finallycaught you."
He looked for an answering smile, but there was none. Instead, the girl'sdark eyes grew wide and purple with fear. He was the same one, then, thatshe had seen in the afternoon, the voice who had cried to her; and he hadbeen pursuing her. He was an enemy, perhaps, sent by the man from whom shefled. She grasped her pistol with trembling fingers, and tried to thinkwhat to say or do.
The young man wondered at the formalities of the plains. Were all theseWestern maidens so reticent?
"Why did you follow me? Who did you think I was?" she asked breathlesslyat last.
"Well, I thought you were a man," he said; "at least, you appeared to be ahuman being, and not a wild animal. I hadn't seen anything but wildanimals for six hours, and very few of those; so I followed you."
The girl was silent. She was not reassured. It did not seem to her thather question was directly answered. The young man was playing with her.
"What right had you to follow me?" she demanded fiercely.
"Well, now that you put it in that light, I'm not sure that I had anyright at all, unless it may be the claim that every human being has uponall creation."
His arms were folded now across his broad brown flannel chest, and thepistols gleamed in his belt below like fine ornaments. He wore aphilosophical expression, and looked at his companion as if she were a newspecimen of the human kind, and he was studying her variety, quiteimpersonally, it is true, but interestedly. There was something in hislook that angered the girl.
"What do you want?" She had never heard of the divine claims of all thehuman family. Her one instinct at present was fear.
An expression that was almost bitter flitted over the young man's face, asof an unpleasant memory forgotten for the instant.
"It really wasn't of much consequence when you think of it," he said witha shrug of his fine shoulders. "I was merely lost, and was wanting toinquire where I was--and possibly the way to somewhere. But I don't knowas 'twas worth the trouble."
The girl was puzzled. She had never seen a man like this before. He wasnot like her wild, reckless brother, nor any of his associates.
"This is Montana," she said, "or was, when I started," she added withsudden thought.
"Yes? Well, it was Montana when I started, too; but it's as likely to bethe Desert of Sahara as anything else. I'm sure I've come far enough, andfound it barren enough."
"I never heard of that place," said the girl seriously; "is it in Canada?"
"I believe not," said the man with sudden gravity; "at least, not that Iknow of. When I went to sch
ool, it was generally located somewhere inAfrica."
"I never went to school," said the girl wistfully; "but--" with a suddenresolve--"I'll go now."
"Do!" said the man. "I'll go with you. Let's start at once; for, now thatI think of it, I haven't had anything to eat for over a day, and theremight be something in that line near a schoolhouse. Do you know the way?"
"No," said the girl, slowly studying him--she began to feel he was makingfun of her; "but I can give you something to eat."
"Thank you!" said the man. "I assure you I shall appreciate anything fromhardtack to bisque ice-cream."
"I haven't any of those," said the girl, "but there are plenty of beansleft; and, if you will get some wood for a fire, I'll make some coffee."
"Agreed," said the man. "That sounds better than anything I've heard forforty-eight hours."
The girl watched him as he strode away to find wood, and frowned for aninstant; but his face was perfectly sober, and she turned to the businessof getting breakfast. For a little her fears were allayed. At least, hewould do her no immediate harm. Of course she might fly from him nowwhile his back was turned; but then of course he would pursue her again,and she had little chance of getting away. Besides, he was hungry. Shecould not leave him without something to eat.
"We can't make coffee without water," she said as he came back with abundle of sticks.
He whistled.
"Could you inform me where to look for water?" he asked.
She looked into his face, and saw how worn and gray he was about his eyes;and a sudden compassion came upon her.
"You'd better eat something first," she said, "and then we'll go and huntfor water. There's sure to be some in the valley. We'll cook some meat."
She took the sticks from him, and made the fire in a businesslike way. Hewatched her, and wondered at her grace. Who was she, and how had shewandered out into this waste place? Her face was both beautiful andinteresting. She would make a fine study if he were not so weary of allhuman nature, and especially woman. He sighed as he thought again ofhimself.
The girl caught the sound, and, turning with the quickness of a wildcreature, caught the sadness in his face. It seemed to drive away much ofher fear and resentment. A half-flicker of a smile came to her lips astheir eyes met. It seemed to recognize a comradeship in sorrow. But herface hardened again almost at once into disapproval as he answered herlook.
The man felt a passing disappointment. After a minute, during which thegirl had dropped her eyes to her work again, he said: "Now, why did youlook at me in that way? Ought I to be helping you in some way? I'mawkward, I know, but I can obey if you'll just tell me how."
The girl seemed puzzled; then she replied almost sullenly:
"There's nothing more to do. It's ready to eat."
She gave him a piece of the meat and the last of the corn bread in the tincup, and placed the pan of beans beside him; but she did not attempt toeat anything herself.
He took a hungry bite or two, and looked furtively at her.
"I insist upon knowing why you looked--" he paused and eyed her--"why youlook at me in that way. I'm not a wolf if I am hungry, and I'm not goingto eat you up."
The look of displeasure deepened on the girl's brow. In spite of hishunger the man was compelled to watch her. She seemed to be looking at aflock of birds in the sky. Her hand rested lightly at her belt. The birdswere coming towards them, flying almost over their heads.
Suddenly the girl's hand was raised with a quick motion, and somethinggleamed in the sun across his sight. There was a loud report, and one ofthe birds fell almost at his feet, dead. It was a sage-hen. Then the girlturned and walked towards him with as haughty a carriage as ever a societybelle could boast.
"You were laughing at me," she said quietly.
It had all happened so suddenly that the man had not time to think.Several distinct sensations of surprise passed over his countenance. Then,as the meaning of the girl's act dawned upon him, and the full intentionof her rebuke, the color mounted in his nice, tanned face. He set down thetin cup, and balanced the bit of corn bread on the rim, and arose.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I never will do it again. I couldn't haveshot that bird to save my life," and he touched it with the tip of his tanleather boot as if to make sure it was a real bird.
The girl was sitting on the ground, indifferently eating some of thecooked pork. She did not answer. Somehow the young man felt uncomfortable.He sat down, and took up his tin cup, and went at his breakfast again; buthis appetite seemed in abeyance.
"I've been trying myself to learn to shoot during the last week," he begansoberly. "I haven't been able yet to hit anything but the side of a barn.Say, I'm wondering, suppose I had tried to shoot at those birds just nowand had missed, whether you wouldn't have laughed at me--quietly, all toyourself, you know. Are you quite sure?"
The girl looked up at him solemnly without saying a word for a fullminute.
"Was what I said as bad as that?" she asked slowly.
"I'm afraid it was," he answered thoughtfully; "but I was a blamed idiotfor laughing at you. A girl that shoots like that may locate the Desert ofSahara in Canada if she likes, and Canada ought to be proud of the honor."
She looked into his face for an instant, and noted his earnestness; andall at once she broke into a clear ripple of laughter. The young man wasastonished anew that she had understood him enough to laugh. She must beunusually keen-witted, this lady of the desert.
"If 'twas as bad as that," she said in quite another tone, "you c'nlaugh."
They looked at each other then in mutual understanding, and each fell toeating his portion in silence. Suddenly the man spoke.
"I am eating your food that you had prepared for your journey, and I havenot even said, 'Thank you' yet, nor asked if you have enough to carry youto a place where there is more. Where are you going?"
The girl did not answer at once; but, when she did, she spokethoughtfully, as if the words were a newly made vow from an impulse justreceived.
"I am going to school," she said in her slow way, "to learn to 'sight' theDesert of Sahara."
He looked at her, and his eyes gave her the homage he felt was her due;but he said nothing. Here evidently was an indomitable spirit, but how didshe get out into the wilderness? Where did she come from, and why was shealone? He had heard of the freedom of Western women, but surely such girlsas this did not frequent so vast a waste of uninhabited territory as hisexperience led him to believe this was. He sat studying her.
The brow was sweet and thoughtful, with a certain keen inquisitivenessabout the eyes. The mouth was firm; yet there were gentle lines of graceabout it. In spite of her coarse, dark calico garb, made in no particularfashion except with an eye to covering with the least possible fuss andtrouble, she was graceful. Every movement was alert and clean-cut. Whenshe turned to look full in his face, he decided that she had almostbeautiful eyes.
She had arisen while he was watching her, and seemed to be looking offwith sudden apprehension. He followed her gaze, and saw several darkfigures moving against the sky.
"It's a herd of antelope," she said with relief; "but it's time we hit thetrail." She turned, and put her things together with incredible swiftness,giving him very little opportunity to help, and mounted her pony withoutmore words.
For an hour he followed her at high speed as she rode full tilt over roughand smooth, casting furtive, anxious glances behind her now and then,which only half included him. She seemed to know that he was there and wasfollowing; that was all.
The young man felt rather amused and flattered. He reflected that mostwomen he knew would have ridden by his side, and tried to make him talk.But this girl of the wilderness rode straight ahead as if her lifedepended upon it. She seemed to have nothing to say to him, and to beanxious neither to impart her own history nor to know his.
Well, that suited his mood. He had come out into the wilderness to thinkand to forget. Here was ample opportunity. There had been a little
toomuch of it yesterday, when he wandered from the rest of his party who hadcome out to hunt; and for a time he had felt that he would rather be backin his native city with a good breakfast and all his troubles than to bealone in the vast waste forever. But now there was human company, and apossibility of getting somewhere sometime. He was content.
The lithe, slender figure of the girl ahead seemed one with the horse itrode. He tried to think what this ride would be if another woman he knewwere riding on that horse ahead, but there was very small satisfaction inthat. In the first place, it was highly improbable, and the young man wasof an intensely practical turn of mind. It was impossible to imagine thehaughty beauty in a brown calico riding a high-spirited horse of thewilds. There was but one parallel. If she had been there, she would, inher present state of mind, likely be riding imperiously and indifferentlyahead instead of by his side where he wanted her. Besides, he came out tothe plains to forget her. Why think of her?
The sky was exceedingly bright and wide. Why had he never noticed thiswideness in skies at home? There was another flock of birds. What if heshould try to shoot one? Idle talk. He would probably hit anything but thebirds. Why had that girl shot that bird, anyway? Was it entirely becauseshe might need it for food? She had picked it up significantly with theother things, and fastened it to her saddle-bow without a word. He was tooignorant to know whether it was an edible bird or not, or she was merelycarrying it to remind him of her skill.
And what sort of a girl was she? Perhaps she was escaping from justice.She ran from him yesterday, and apparently stopped only when utterlyexhausted. She seemed startled and anxious when the antelopes came intosight. There was no knowing whether her company meant safety, after all.Yet his interest was so thoroughly aroused in her that he was willing torisk it.
Of course he might go more slowly and gradually, let her get ahead, and heslip out of sight. It was not likely he had wandered so many miles awayfrom human habitation but that he would reach one sometime; and, now thathe was re-enforced by food, perhaps it would be the part of wisdom to partwith this strange maiden. As he thought, he unconsciously slackened hishorse's pace. The girl was a rod or more ahead, and just vanishing behinda clump of sage-brush. She vanished, and he stopped for an instant, andlooked about him on the desolation and a great loneliness settled uponhim like a frenzy. He was glad to see the girl riding back toward himwith a smile of good fellowship on her face.
"What's the matter?" she called. "Come on! There's water in the valley."
The sound of water was good; and life seemed suddenly good for no reasonwhatever but that the morning was bright, and the sky was wide, and therewas water in the valley. He rode forward, keeping close beside her now,and in a moment there gleamed below in the hot sunshine the shining of asparkling stream.
"You seem to be running away from some one," he explained. "I thought youwanted to get rid of me, and I would give you a chance."
She looked at him surprised.
"I am running away," she said, "but not from you."
"From whom, then, may I ask? It might be convenient to know, if we are totravel in the same company."
She looked at him keenly.
"Who are you, and where do you belong?"