Mary Ellen Chase

“ Pedro looked back and whinnied. He realized at least that something was agitating his mistress. But half an hour since she had run out of the house to where he was feeding beneath the cottonwoods, and hurried him to the corral where she had saddled and bridled him herself. She had been crying then. Quick little sobs were shaking her shoulders. Then she had sprung upon his back and ridden like mad across the prairie to Elk Creek Valley. Had MacDuff been along, he would not have minded; but it was too warm at mid-day to gallop all alone. ”

“ Virginia liked Carver, though she knew him far better now than she had ever dreamed she should. She liked him in spite of the tinge of snobbishness which would creep in now and then, try as he did to conceal it. She even liked him during the ten minutes he took to lace the thong when she could have done it in three.
It was growing dark when they at last swung into the easier, grass-grown trail of the lower mountains—dark and cold. ”

“ The weird, lonesome cry of the coyotes startled more than one sleeping Vigilante that night, and Vivian nestled closer beneath Aunt Nan’s protecting arm. It was not until the next morning when they started for home that they knew of the bear, who, smelling the ham and bacon, had wandered into camp, only to be repulsed by Malcolm and an extra log on the fire.
In that strange, just-before-dawn stillness Virginia awoke to miss Priscilla from her side. She moved the tent flap, and looked out. ”

“ If the trout in the dark pool under the shadow of the quaking-asps had seen the performance that preceded the appearance of that fly and grasshopper, he never would have deigned to approach them. But his late afternoon nap had fortunately prevented, and now supper was before his very eyes. He darted for the grasshopper and securely seized it. Priscilla, standing motionless upon the bank, felt a tremor go through the rod in her hand, saw the tip bend, felt a frightful tug as the fish darted downstream. Something told her that her dream was realized—that she had at least hooked a fish! ”

“ Virginia stood on the porch and watched Vivian ride down the lane before returning to Cæsar. She was wondering if anything could be the matter, if, perhaps, something had happened at the barn-warming the evening before to displease Vivian. She had seemed so unlike herself all the morning.
But, she concluded wisely, few days were cloudless, and even an almost perfect house-party had its ups and downs. She and Donald had both discovered that. So many different personalities were bound to collide occasionally, and one couldn’t be happy always. ”

“ That night on the mountain she came and stayed with me while Vivian and Carver were asleep. I learned so many things that night, Don. I’m just sure she taught them to me—she and the night and the stillness.” Her voice softened. “Somehow, away up there on the mountain, life seemed such a big, wonderful thing—all full of dreams and opportunities and surprises 295 and—and comrades, all going along the same trail. Don’t you like to think of life as a trail—like the kind that leads to Lone Mountain, I mean—all full of dangers and surprises and beautiful things?” ”

“ Introductions are stilted, unlovely things between 56 horseback riders on a sagebrush-covered mesa under a blue August sky. There were none this morning. Jean MacDonald reined in the restive Robert Bruce as she drew near her guests, and unceremoniously greeted them all.
“I know every one of you,” she said brightly, her dark blue eyes searching their faces—“Mary Williams and Priscilla Winthrop and Vivian Winters—all of you. And I’ve known you even longer, Virginia. Donald Keith told me all about you a month ago when they helped break my land. I’m so glad you’re coming to spend the day with me. ”

“ Priscilla stood with Virginia and Donald, and with eyes full of eagerness watched the gathering of Mr. Benjamin Jarvis’ guests. She longed for Miss King and Miss Wallace and Dorothy and the Blackmore Twins—yes, she even longed for her mother, in spite of her apprehension lest her Bostonian mother might not strictly appreciate this Wyoming barn-warming and the cosmopolitan society attendant thereupon. She wanted them all to feel as six weeks ago she had felt that indescribable first thrill at the sight of chaps and lariats and fully-equipped cowboys. ”

“ The trail wound in and out around the mountain-side, and their sure-footed horses followed it, never daunted by fallen trees or by rocky and precipitous places. More than once every Vigilante save one held her breath as she was carried up a dangerous, almost obliterated path to heights beyond. But Virginia’s Pedro, who was far-famed as a trailer, led the way, and his rider called back reassuring words to those behind. ”

“ She would build a new house in place of the cabin, buy some more land, and make her ranch one of the best in all Wyoming!
The Vigilantes were in a new world as they listened—a world where the only capital necessary was ambition, enthusiasm, vigor! Something told them that this homesteading girl was richer in many things than they themselves; that the treasures of hard work were quite as precious as those of wealth; and that Jean MacDonald was finding for herself through her own untiring labor the things most worth-while. ”

“ Wyoming, to be appreciated, should be explored on horseback and not viewed from the observation platform of a limited train. Barren stretches of sagebrush and cactus, and grim, ugly buttes guard too well the secret that golden wheat-fields lie beyond them; the rugged, far-away mountains never tell that their canyon-cut sides are clothed with timber and carpeted with a thousand flowers; and tired, dusty travelers, quite unaware of these things, find themselves actually longing for Nebraska to break the monotony! ”

“ Vivian, too surprised to remonstrate, followed Virginia through the quaking-asps. The man lay where he had fallen, unconscious of anything about him. Blood was flowing from an ugly wound just above his forehead. He was a sad and sorry sight. Vivian shuddered and drew back.
“Who is he, Virginia?” she breathed. “You know who he is, don’t you? Oh, what are you 269 going to do?” For Virginia’s strong young arms were trying to pull the man into a more comfortable position, and farther beneath the trees. ”

“ Virginia considered for a long moment. Then her clear gray eyes met Vivian’s frightened blue ones.
“Vivian,” she said, “perhaps you’ll be angry with me for speaking so plainly to you, but I’ve just got to do it. If you don’t want the Vigilantes to be dead ashamed of you, here’s your chance this minute! I believe way down in my heart that things come to us so that we can show what’s really in us—how—how far down we’ve been putting our roots into good soil, you know. Now this has come to you! There isn’t a thing to be afraid of except just Fear, which I admit is a monster ”

“ Hunter, he took off his hat and spoke to us! I thought we’d die! Siwash would eat the bushes, and I thought we’d never escape! He’s not going to stay here after he has something to eat, is he, Mr. Hunter? You don’t know how awful he is!”
Vivian stopped—merely for breath. Mr. Hunter with a mighty effort repressed a smile. Mary was torn between a desire to play fair and the awful remembrance of her fright. She said nothing.
“Vivian,” said Mr. Hunter, “out here we’ve learned not to judge persons by whether or not they wash in the creek and eat canned beans. I’m sorry Crusoe frightened you. ”

“ The some one was a lone cowboy riding a buckskin horse. He was leaning forward in his saddle and clutching the horn. His face, almost covered by the big hat he wore, was close to the black mane of the sturdy little buckskin.
From their shelter they watched him draw near with beating hearts. There was something strange about him—strange as the stillness. They could not see that he was guiding the horse, who apparently knew not only the way, but her mission as well. She came straight toward the shady thicket and stopped beneath the trees a few rods away from the two anxious spectators. ”

“ The brakeman’s prophecy had come true! In spite of Virginia’s assertion that they never came near the house, she had seen one!
Little David was crying from surprise and a sore neck. He had not seen the snake. Priscilla was trembling in every muscle. There was no one whom she could call. The men were on the range and in the fields; Mr. Hunter and the girls, except Vivian, were in town; Aunt Nan was at the Keiths. The snake must not be allowed to live. Little David might be playing around there again, or some other child. She herself would never, never have the courage——! ”

“ Donald would drive the girls home, and then return. Mr. David, Mother Mary, Malcolm and little Kenneth—all the Keith family—came to greet them. It seemed to Jack Williams as though he had never received a welcome so genuine; and to the hungry and tired Carver Standish III the simple brown ranch-house, surrounded by cottonwoods and set about by wide grain-fields, possessed a charm unsurpassed by the most stately mansions of New England.
The Vigilantes and Aunt Nan received as genuine a welcome a half hour later when they drove down the long avenue of cottonwoods to Virginia’s home. ”

“ Somehow she knew that the Cinnamon Creek forest ranger did know.
“Yes,” he said understandingly, “I remember, only this is better than grand opera, because it’s real. You see, I spotted this place last spring. I saw all the different shrubs—quaking-asp and buck-brush and Oregon grape and service-berry and hawthorn and wild currant—and I thought to myself that this would be some garden in September. It’s cold nights up here in these hills, the frosts are early, and the sun strikes this valley all day. It’s going to be even more gorgeous in two weeks more. ”

“ If Carver were not at the ford, they must make the trip up the trail the next day in spite of Virginia’s plan for a ride to Lone Mountain. If necessary, she would be brave enough to explain matters, and then they would understand.
She turned to go down the mountain, when suddenly from above her came a sound of breaking underbrush as though some creature were bursting from its covert. Vivian stood motionless, too terrified to move or to scream. It was not Carver—that was certain. He would never be upon the mountain. It was far more likely to be a bear. ”

“ Why are all the trees out here those tall cottonwoods?”
“They ain’t all,” answered the obliging brakeman, “but the cottonwoods don’t take so much soil. They grow easy and quick, and make good wind-breaks, so folks plant ’em when they build a house near a creek like that one over there. Quaking-asps—they grow well, too.”
“Quaking-asps!” cried Priscilla. “Where are they? Please show me! I’d give worlds to see one! My roommate lives out here—I’m just on my way to visit her—and it’s her favorite tree.” ”

“ Don’t lose your quirt, Vivian! And don’t leave Allan’s knife around, Mary. It isn’t fair to tempt even a porter. You’ll write from every large place, won’t you, Priscilla?”
In spite of an amused and impatient conductor, the last-named girl turned back for a last hug. Her hat was askew, her brown hair disheveled, and her brown eyes full of tears, which were coursing freely down her cheeks.
“Oh, Virginia,” she cried, “you’re the biggest peach I ever knew! Remember, you’re going to think of me every night at seven o’clock. ”

“ Give Siwash a looser rein, Vivian. He won’t stumble. Good-by!”
They looked back as they reached the Valley level to see Jean MacDonald and Robert Bruce silhouetted against the sky-line, and to wave them a last good-by.
“It’s like your ’Power of the West’ picture in our room at school, Virginia,” Priscilla almost whispered—“the man on horseback with the sunset and the mountains behind him. Just look! There! Now she’s turned Robert, and now they’re out of sight!” ”

“ With a substantial new cabin, three cows and a horse, some hens and two collie dogs, a crop nearly in, fruit trees thriving and a garden growing like wild-fire—what more could one desire? Then add to riches already possessed, the surety of a barn and corral in September, and the probability of twelve pure-bred Shropshire sheep, and what homesteader would not sing for joy?
That was precisely what Jean MacDonald was doing this sunny August morning; for it was a girl—a strong, robust girl of twenty-one—who had taken up the southwestern claim on Virginia’s and 53 Donald’s mesa. ”

“ Yet daylight had come—it was early afternoon of the next day—and she was still ready if Carver would only come. She allowed Siwash to sink his warm nose in the amber waters of the ford while she waited. It was very still up there. In fact, only Virginia’s repeated assurances that there 240 were no cattle on the hills and her own knowledge that a homesteader’s cabin was just out of sight beyond the quaking-asps on her left, made Vivian endure that stillness, broken only by the hurrying creek waters and the lazy humming of tiny, hidden insects. ”

“ To be watchful of one’s opportunities; never to scorn a chance to serve; to guard against the cheap and the unlovely in books and thoughts; to keep the windows of one’s soul shining and clean, so that the light of all things 176 beautiful might shine in. She held the little pin close in her hand. She and Priscilla and Dorothy and Mary and Vivian would keep to the trail together. ”

“ Virginia held Aunt Nan’s hand close in her own as they heard Aunt Deborah tell of Mary Webster’s coming to Wyoming; then a far rougher land than now; of her brave fight against homesickness; of her transformation of the Buffalo Horn School; and, finally, of the fierce struggle within herself over whether she should return 114 to Vermont or stay to marry a Wyoming ranchman.
“My nephew John,” finished Aunt Deborah proudly. “A good man. None other than a good man could have won Mary Webster.” ”

“ Donald explained to Mary, Priscilla, and Jack who were standing beside him. “It means, ‘We’re going to camp here.’ I knew Virginia would decide on that. She always does the sensible thing anyway,” he added proudly.
Malcolm and Aunt Nan, standing near the 170 water’s edge, watched the flames of Virginia’s fire as they blazed skyward.
“I’ve never quite realized before what Virginia’s made of,” said Aunt Nan thoughtfully. “If her Grandmother Webster were here this minute, I think perhaps she’d realize that there are qualities which balance being born in New England.” ”

“ I’ve seen prairie-dogs and yucca and quaking-asps and a cow boy, and I know I heard a meadow-lark. This gentleman has taught me all kinds of things.”
The brakeman touched his hat.
“He’s been very kind, I’m sure,” said Aunt Nan, too used to her own niece’s methods of making new friends to be troubled. “But we’re going to reach Virginia and Donald in another hour, and you must have some breakfast, Priscilla.”
“Carver will bring me some fruit,” persisted Priscilla, “and you can’t see a thing from the window. Oh, please, Miss Webster! I just can’t eat when I have this queer feeling inside of me!” ”

“ I don’t. All the courage Vivian’s got she’s gained for herself without any motto to help her out. And I guess that’s the way with most of us in this world.”
He took his hat and rose to go.
“I’ve got to be making for home,” he said. “Dave’s gone, and I’ve an extra amount of work to do. Thanks awfully for the cookies, and don’t think I’m too hard on the family motto business. I can see where your motto means a heap to you, but you’re not a quitter anyway, Priscilla.”
He jumped on MacDuff and rode down the lane with a final wave of his hat as he galloped homeward across the prairie. ”