Ridgwell Cullum

“ She had discovered no sign of her missing cows. But she was quite undisturbed, and not a whit nearer agreement with Lightning as to the meaning of her loss.
The excuse of her search, however, had served Molly well enough. Ranging these hills, with Nature bursting into renewed life, was a joy that never failed in its appeal. Molly loved it all with a youthful passion. She loved the radiant sunlight—the immensity, the complete solitude, of this world of forest, and hill, and sheltered valley. ”

“ She anticipated a day in the saddle, perhaps; a day of hill-ranging, with her saddle-mare’s eager body thrilling under her. She would strike out north and east along the creek in the direction of Whale River, into which it flowed. It was sweet grass all the way. It was on the way to Hartspool, but she had no intention of doing the whole journey. She would not go farther than Andy McFardell’s homestead. If the cows were not in that direction she would strike out on a fresh line that afternoon.
Molly was at that age when self-deception is the most natural thing in the world. ”

“ Then had come the final revelation, when she had looked into the clearing McFardell had cut in the shelter of the forest. The man was at work then on the finish of his log-built corral.
At sight of him her imagination was completely captured. His appeal was enormous. She beheld a muscular, good-looking man clad in an undershirt and trousers, and with queer, stout moccasins on his feet, waging a lonely battle with all the elements of the world she knew to be so fierce. Single-handed he was grappling with his colossal task, and the sight thrilled the hill-bred girl with its courage. ”

“ Maybe there’s folk would say, don’t hate. But I’m not one of them. Hate him, Molly, if you feel that way. I should. And no good man or woman will ever blame you. But, dear, there’s something better. Forget. The man who could do as he’s done is a poor sort of creature. He isn’t good enough to be a villain. He’s just a mean thing, that’s only fit for a woman’s contempt. Don’t let him stay a day longer in your mind than you can help. ”

“ A foot and more of snow lay everywhere in the open. Mounting snowdrifts were driven against every obstruction. The pine bluffs were laden with a roofing of crystal whiteness, and the greater hills had become a world of snow, which would remain unchanging throughout the winter.
But George Marton was without concern for Nature’s desperate moods. He knew she was a simple blusterer, governed by laws she had no power to defy. She might rage or smile. It was only the weakling she could ever hope to bluff. No, he never permitted himself an anxious thought in the life that was his. ”

“ Molly’s week had been passed in excited anticipation and growing anxiety. And in the end anxiety supervened over every other emotion. At first happiness had well-nigh intoxicated her. Life, the simple daily life of her farm, had been transformed with everything else. The labours that were her routine were accomplished in something like a dream, a dream wherein the good-looking face of a man was always near to her, looking on, encouraging, and smiling his approval of her efforts. ”

“ Here, away up in the heart of the hills, was a great and thriving cattle industry, and Dan Quinlan was the man who had created it.
McFardell’s discoveries at Quinlan’s were a source of bitter disappointment to him. They were the shattering, the complete shattering of his dream. He cursed himself bitterly that he had listened to Lightning’s suggestion, and the idle talk of Hartspool. It was always the way. Folks jumped to absurd conclusions out of suspicion of anything that was beyond their understanding. ”

“ It was the third long, anxious day since Jim had passed her safely through the wide-open Gateway of Hope. And Blanche understood that the worst of the child’s physical trouble was [298] over. The thing that concerned her now was that other—that psychological reaction which she knew could so easily undo the rest. As she sat guard over the girl’s slumbers she pondered deeply the possibilities of disaster.
Blanche possessed no narrowness in her outlook upon life. Tolerance and generosity were the very essence of her nature. Human disaster never failed to wound her. ”

“ Molly smiled. Then her smile broadened into a laugh. “Say, it’s queer how our feelings bubble over when we get the thing we want. Jessie hands us gallons more milk in the year than any of the others. So she’s a swell beast, and we pat her, and make a fuss of her, and give her an extra dope of feed. If she gave us less, why, she’d just be any ordinary old thing, from a fool cow to something worse. It’s the way of things, eh? When folks hand us all we ask we purr over them like a bunch of cats when you stroke them right.”
The lean face of Lightning Rogers distorted itself into a grin. ”

“ But it doesn’t worry me a thing. You’ve just one idea in life, and so have I. It’s Molly. We’re both looking to do the same thing from different ends. Well, we’ve got to get on common ground. To do that I want you to know me, and all about me. When you know that I’ll be good and satisfied, if you feel that way and Molly’s yearning to go, for you to take her right back to her farm. Will you hear the story first, boy?”
In a moment the hardness passed out of Lightning’s eyes, giving place to a smile like a sunbeam breaking through the grey cloud of winter. He gripped the arms of his chair. ”

“ A few yards away Jim Pryse stood with shackled hands, gazing down at the prone figure of the man who had been conveying him to the penitentiary at Calford. There was no sign of life in the fallen man. He lay unmoving, just where he had been hurled from the saddle, and the flakes of falling snow were rapidly obscuring the black outline of his fur-clad body. ”

“ Blanche asked anxiously.
She was troubled at the mood which she recognised lying behind the man’s manner. Jim shook his head.
“That’s the trouble,” he said almost moodily. “What could I do that would help her? You see, she loves that skunk. It seems queer, Sis. There’s just nothing I wouldn’t do to help her, and I’m helpless as a babe. Half the time it’s that way with things. The real opportunity to help is the rarest thing in our lives. Out of some sort of generous, fool impulse we jump in and act, and it’s only once in a century the thing a feller does that way is real help. ”

“ It was neither the cascading waters, nor the beauty of [332] daylight after the darkness of the tunnel, nor the mysterious depths of the waters of the lagoon, that preoccupied the riders as well as their horses. Molly and Jim were startled into complete silence, while their horses apparently regarded that which they beheld as a revelation of the intensest interest. A big sorrel horse, saddled and bridled, was down there beyond the waters of the lagoon, searching amongst the boulders, cropping hungrily at the green, ripe tufts of grass that grew about them. ”

“ Jim shook his head.
“Don’t worry for them, Blanche,” he said seriously. “Does it matter? They’re plumb happy. They’ll grow up men and women. Life’ll be to them just what life is anyway. What more can they ask? It’s we folk who’re wrong, feeling the way we do about half-breeds. They’re just as much an expression of Nature as we are, and anything else is. The world’s no better or worse for their happening. I love those queer darn kiddies. I love ’em for themselves, and I love ’em for Dan’s sake. And even Cama’s. ”

“ There was sadness in the down-drooping of the mouth that was accustomed to respond so readily to her smile.
“She’s going on well,” she said. Then, with a sigh: “Poor little Molly.”
That expression of pity came near to undoing all Lightning’s carefully calculated pose. A furious desire to blaspheme, and hurl malediction upon the author of the girl’s trouble, drove him hard. Perhaps Blanche read something of that which was passing through his mind, for with the passing of his smiling greeting she went on.
“You know, Lightning,” she said gently, “we mustn’t let ourselves grieve too badly. ”

“ Molly’s eyes widened as she shook her head.
“Only Hartspool for dry goods.”
“It’s a poor sort of settlement. But it isn’t that.”
“What d’you mean?”
“You know, Molly, folk just can’t live alone always,” McFardell went on, his eyes on the litter of his homestead. “That’s the thing. We’re human, and all that that means. We’re not machines to work like—like a thresher. We need companionship—our own kind and age. We want things to laugh at, or get mad about. We want things over which we can exercise all those moods and feelings Nature gave us. ”

“ Blanche bent over her work, and spoke without looking up. This brother of hers, this strong, reliant man, seemed more like a child to her than ever.
“It’s all so simple to me, Jim,” she said, without a moment’s hesitation. “The world surrounds the business of marriage with a lot of stuff and notions that have no right to any place in it. A boy loves a girl, and she loves him. There isn’t a thing matters to them beyond the love [294] which is pure, and good, and as natural as God Almighty intended it to be. ”

“ The weary dispiritment of it all to a man who has given up everything, staked all upon the chance of things, relying only upon his endurance and the skill acquired in a police training. No, he would never have discovered Jim Pryse’s hiding-place but for the folly of those associated with him. And yet—and yet—there it was, so easy to arrive at. The way was practically a direct trail from the Marton farm.
His smile returned. He recalled the vision of Lightning as he had halted at the entrance to the valley of that queer creek. For himself he had only narrowly escaped the man’s observation. ”

“ Blanche’s smile was full of warmth. And Molly’s eyes widened at the superfluousness of the question.
“Why, Blanche, I’m crazy for you to come along all the time. Next to Andy I want you most.”
Blanche shook her head admonishingly.
“Say, my dear, some day I’m going to be married myself,” she said, and her manner was very, very gentle. “I love the man I’m going to marry with all my foolish heart. He’s not a good-looker like your Andy. And he’s got a mop of scarlet hair and a bunch of foolish freckles. But I’m not going to let him set me crazy. It’s not good to get too crazy that way. ”

“ The scented spruce came right down to the grass-grown banks of the creek. Where she had entered the water was a boulder-strewn gap. It was clearly the bed of one of those swiftly passing spring torrents. Now it was almost dry, and had served as her approach to the shallow ford.
The happy waters surged about Rachel’s sturdy legs. Beyond, across the creek, the hills rose sharply, clad with [113] a woven pattern in every shade of green. Molly had no intention of crossing the creek. ”

“ Ther’s only one way for Lightning when it comes to fixing things. If he’s after Andy McFardell he means to kill him. He will kill him. And it won’t be to head off the Police from this valley either. Oh, it’s all crazy. It’s terrible. It’ll be murder, and—and Lightning’s done it. He’s a reckless, crazy-headed savage. He’s the whitest, loyalest friend. And they’ll take him, and hang him, for—murder. I know,” she went on, in a surge of emotion. “None of you know, or can ever get the things lying back of Lightning’s head. He cares nothing for himself. ”

“ Folk say this, folk say that. Who cares what folk say? It doesn’t seem to me that they matter in the least. Their approval wouldn’t help in the hour of need. And their disapproval wouldn’t rob folk who love of one moment of their happiness. When the time comes, Jim, just be yourself. Tell Molly all you think. Make her your wife if she loves you. And if you two are to get the happiness I wish for you there’ll be one, anyway, whose approval will do its best to help it along.”
The first of the dawn had lit the valley with its twilight. Blanche was passing out of Molly’s sick-room. ”

“ But—say, Dan Quinlan, you’re a big feller and a swell friend. Why?” Pryse shook his head. “Because your heart’s mostly as big as your fool body. There are things to life I can’t get a grip on. Here are you, living away up in the hills with no one near you for twenty-five miles. You got a poor sort of ranch homestead, and a bunch of stock that couldn’t hand you more than a bare existence. Why? Are you a hunter? Do you just love the crazy hills, with their storms, and snow, and cold? ”

“ The only fool thing God ever created is the white-livered coyote that wants to snivel its way through life, instead of getting a grip on the throat of things. I knew just the thing I was doing. You see, that boy was my brother, and the best feller I know. The skunk he’d killed was the feller who’d robbed him of a wife, and done the unholiest thing any low-down bum can do by any woman, married or single. ”