For Woman's Love Part- 2, Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth [reading list .TXT] 📗
- Author: Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth
Book online «For Woman's Love Part- 2, Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth [reading list .TXT] 📗». Author Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth
Eyes. Poor Little Violet Cried A Good Deal. But You Know She Has Such A
Tender Heart, Poor Child!--Look At That Herd Of Deer, Cora, Standing On
The Top Of That Swell Of The Land To The Right, And Actually Gazing At
The Trail Without A Motion Or A Panic. I Hope Nobody Will Shoot At
Them!" Exclaimed Mr. Clarence, Suddenly Breaking Off In His Discourse To
Point To The Denizens Of The Thicket And The Prairie, Until Upon Some
Sudden Impulse The Whole Herd Turned And Bounded Away.
So They Fared On Through That Glorious Autumn Day--Over The Vast,
Rolling, Solitary Prairie--Now Rising To A Smooth, Gradual Elevation
That Revealed The Circle Of The Whole Horizon Where It Met The Sky; Now
Descending Into A Wide, Shallow Hollow, Where The Rising Ground Around
Inclosed Them As In An Amphitheater; But Everywhere Along The Trail, The
Prairie Grass, Dried And Burnished By The Autumn's Suns And Winds,
Burned Like Gold On The Hills And Bronze In The Hollows, Giving A
Singularly Beautiful Effect In Light And Shade Of Mingling Metallic
Hues.
At Noon The Captain Ordered A Halt, And All The Teams Were Drawn Up In A
Line; And All The Men Got Out To Feed And Water The Horses And Mules,
And To Prepare Their Own Dinner.
They Were Now Beside A Clear, Deep, Narrow Stream, A Tributary Of The
Kansas River, Running Through A Picturesque Valley, Carpeted With Long
Grass, And Bordered With Low, Well-Wooded Hills On Either Side. The
Burnished Gold And Bronze Of The Long Dried Grass On The River's Brim,
Dotted Here And There With A Late Scarlet Prairie Flower, The Brilliant
Crimson And Purple Of The Autumn Foliage That Clothed The Trees, The
Bright Blue Of The Sky And The Soft White Of The Few Downy Clouds
Floating Overhead, And All Reflected And Duplicated In The River Below,
Made A Beauty And Glory Of Color That Must Have Delighted The Soul Of An
Artist, And Pleased The Eye Of Even The Most Careless Observer.
Mike O'reilly, The Captain's Orderly, Was Busy Spreading A Table Cloth
On The Grass, At The Foot Of A Hill On The Right, And Old John, Mr.
Clarence's Man, Was Emulating Mike By Spreading A Four-Yard Square Of
White Damask At A Short Distance Behind Him.
Our Friends Had Nearly Finished Their Lunch, When Something--She Never
Could Tell What--Caused Corona To Look Behind Her. Then She Shrieked!
All Looked To See The Cause Of Her Sudden Fright.
There Stood A Group Of Indians, With Blankets Around Their Forms, And
Gleaming Tomahawks About Their Shoulders.
"Pawnees--Friendly. Don't Be Afraid. Give Them Something To Eat," Said
The Captain, In A Low Tone, Addressing The First Part Of His
Conversation To Corona And The Last Part To Mrs. Neville.
But Corona Had Never Seen An Indian In Her Life, And Could Not At Once
Get Over Her Panic Caused By The Sight Of Those Bare, Keen-Edged Axes
Gleaming In The Sun.
Part 2 Chapter 38 (The New Comers) Pg 178
Captain Neville Spoke To Them In Their Native Tongue, And They Replied.
The Conversation That Ensued Was Quite Unintelligible To Clarence And
Corona, But Not To Mrs. Neville, Who Beckoned To Two Squaws Who Stood
Humbly In The Rear Of The Braves. They Were Both Clothed In Short,
Rude, Blue Cotton Skirts, With Blankets Over Their Shoulders. The Elder
Squaw Carried A Pack On Her Back; The Younger One Carried A Baby Snugly
In A Hood Made Of The Loop Of Her Blanket At The Back Of Her Neck.
They Both Approached The Ladies, Chattering As They Came; The Elder One
Threw Down Her Pack On The Grass And Began To Open It, And Display A
Number Of Dressed Raccoon Skins Stretched Upon Sticks, And By Gibbering
And Gesticulations Expressed Her Wish To Sell Them.
Neither Of The Ladies Wished To Buy; But Mrs. Neville Give Her Loaves Of
Bread And Junks Of Dried Beef From The Hampers On The Grass, And Corona
Gave Her Money.
She Put The Money In A Little Fur Pouch She Carried At Her Belt, And She
Packed The Bread And Beef In The Bundle With The Highly Flavored Raccoon
Skins. She Was Not Fastidious.
While Mrs. Neville And Corona Were Occupied With The Squaw, Captain
Neville And Mr. Clarence Had Been Feasting The Braves, And The
Attendants Had Been Washing Dishes, Repacking Hampers, And Reloading
Wagons For A Fresh Start.
When All Was Ready The Wayfarers Took Leave Of The Indians And
Re-Entered Their Conveyances And Resumed Their Route, Leaving The
Savages Still Feasting On The Fragments That Remained.
It Was Now Two O'clock In The Afternoon, As The Long Trail Of Carryalls
And Army Wagons Passed Up From The Beautiful Valley And Out Upon The
Vast Prairie That Still Rolled On Before Them In Hills And Hollows Of
Gold And Bronze, Blazing Under The Bright Autumnal Sun.
Men And Women, Mules And Horses, Had All Been Rested And Refreshed By
Their Mid-Day Halt And Repast.
The People, However, Seemed Less Inclined To Observe And Converse Than
In The Forenoon.
Even Clarence Saw More Than One Flock Of Birds Sail Over Their Heads,
And Made No Sign; Saw A Herd Of Deer Stand And Gaze, And Said Not A
Word.
At Length Clarence Took Out His Cigar And Lit It, And As He Smoked He
Watched The Descending Sun Until It Sank Below The Horizon And Sent Up
The Most Singular After-Glow That Clarence Had Ever Seen--A Shower Of
Sparks And Needle-Like Flames From The Edge Of The Prairie Immediately
Under The Horizon.
"Looks Like De Worl' Was Ketchin On Fire Ober Dere, Marse Clarence,"
Said Young Mark, Speaking For The First Time Since They Had Resumed
Their March.
Part 2 Chapter 38 (The New Comers) Pg 179
"It Is Only The Light Reflected By The Prairie, My Boy," Kindly Replied
Mr. Clarence. And Then He Smoked On In Silence, While The After-Glow
Died Out, The Twilight Faded, And One By One The Stars Came Out. Corona
Seemed To Be Slumbering In Her Seat. Young Mark Crooned Low, As If To
Himself, A Weird, Old Camp Meeting Hymn. It Was So Dark That He Could
Not Have Seen To Guide His Horses, Had Not The Captain's Carryall Been
Immediately In Front Of His Own, And The Long Trail Of Wagons In Front
Of The Captain's, With Lantern Carried By The Advance Guard To Show The
Way.
"What's The Matter?" Suddenly Called Out Mr. Clarence, Who Was Aroused
From His Reverie By The Halt Of The Whole Procession.
"We 'Pears To Got Sumwhurze," Replied Mark, Strongly Pulling In His
Horses, Which Had Nearly Run Into The Back Of The Captain's Stationary
Carryall In Front.
"We Are At Burley's," Called Out Captain Neville From His Seat.
While He Spoke Mike O'reilly Brought Up A Lantern To Show Their Way To
The House.
Clarence Alighted And Handed Down His Niece, Took Her Arm, And Followed
Captain And Mrs. Neville Past The Wagons And Mules And Groups Of Men
Through A Door That Admitted Them Into A Long, Low-Ceiled Room, Lighted
By Tallow Candles In Tin Sconces Along The Log Walls, And Warmed By A
Large Cooking Stove In The Middle Of The Floor. Rude, Unpainted Wooden
Chairs, Benches And Tables Were The Only Furniture, If We Except The
Rough Shelves On Which Coarse Crockery And Tinware Were Arranged And
Under Which Iron Cooking Utensils Were Piled.
Captain Neville And Mr. Clarence Returned To The Wagons To See For
Themselves That Their Valuable Personal Effects Were Safely Bestowed For
The Night, And That The Horses And Mules Were Well Cared For. The
Proprietor Of This Place Attended Them.
While Mrs. Neville And Corona Still Walked Up And Down In The Room, A
Small Dark-Haired Woman Came In And Nodded To Them, And Asked If They
Would Like To Go Upstairs And Have Some Water To Wash Their Faces.
Both Ladies Thankfully Accepted This Offer, And Followed The Landlady Up
A Rude Flight Of Steps That Led Up From The Corner Of The Room To An
Open Trap Door, Through Which They Entered The Garret.
This Was Nothing Better Than A Loft, Whose Rough Plank Floor Formed The
Ceiling Of The Room Below, And Whose Sloping Roof Rose From The Floor
Front And Back, And Met Overhead.
Here They Rested Through The Night.
Let Us Hasten On. It Was The Thirteenth Day Out. The Trail Had Crossed
Nearly The Whole Of The Indian Territory, And Were Within One Day's
March Of Fort Farthermost, On The Texan Frontier.
Part 2 Chapter 38 (The New Comers) Pg 180
They Had Passed The Previous Night At Fort W., And At Sunrise They Had
Crossed The Rio Negro, And Before Noon They Had Made Nearly A Score Of
Miles Toward Their Destination. They Halted Beside A Little Stream That
Took Its Rise In A Spring Among The Rocks On The Right Hand Of The
Trail. Here The Party Meant To Rest For Two Hours Before Resuming The
March To Fort Farthermost, Which They Hoped To Reach That Same Night.
As Usual At The Noon Rest, Mules And Horses Were Unharnessed And Led
Down To The Stream To Be Watered And Fed. Fires Were Built And Rustic
Cranes Improvised To Hang The Pots And Kettles Gypsy Style. Since The
First Day Out Old Martha Had Been Constituted Cook And Old John Butler
To Our Party.
In A Short Time Martha Had Prepared Such A Hot Dinner As Was Practicable
Under The Circumstances, And John Had Laid The Cloth.
When All Was Ready The Party Of Four Sat Down On The Dry Grass To
Partake Of The Meal, To Every Course Of Which They All Did Ample
Justice.
"This Is Our Last _Al Fresco_ Feast," Said Captain Neville, After
Dinner, As He Filled The Glasses Of The Two Ladies And Of Clarence
Rockharrt And Proposed The Toast:
"Our Lasting Friendship And Companionship."
It Was Honored Warmly.
Next Clarence Proposed:
"Mrs. Neville," Which Was Also Honored And Responded To By The Captain
In A Neat Little Speech, At The End Of Which He Proposed:
"Mrs. Rothsay."
This Was Duly Met By Clarence With A Brief Acknowledgment. Mr. Clarence
Was No Speechmaker. But He Proposed The Health Of--
"Our Gallant Captain," Which Was Drank With Enthusiasm.
The Captain Responded, And Proposed--
"Mr. Clarence Rockharrt," Which Was Cordially Honored.
Then Mr. Clarence Made His Last Little Speech Of Personal Thanks.
After This The Company Arose And
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