The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1881-04-08
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE.

We were in a forest of mountains, eacl
spiked over its top by row of pine
standing straight and stiff against th,
horizon. I could see the road far aheat
winding around the ascent like a grid
ling ribbon, and bending over the side
while a resinous, piney fragrance en-
chanted my nostrils. looked into the
depths of pine forest with its waste o.
underbrush springing round its roots ,an6
q marvel of cool, dull green underlying
it all.
Exceptionally fine weather it was, the
stage driver said, for this time of the
year. I was out on the box, you will
understand, because it made me sick tc
ride inside, and for this once was glad
of it. Perched so far above the ground
I had felt as though borne in air, and ]
should have liked to snatch the reins
from his hands and set the horses into a
mad gallop, up hill and down. The
mountain air was as heady as champagne.
and so was the changing view that spread
before my dazzled eyes. A hundred
times I called to Tom, yawning and
browsing his time away, inside, to look
at the noo6s and glens among the wind
ings of the brawling steams, OF the sud-
den plundes we made into ravines. or
the grand rise of mountain revealed to
us by our own elevation.
Suddenly, as we were crawling on the
grade, round projection ahead of us ap-
peared woman on horseback. Our
driver frightened his slack reins, and gave
. low, peculiar whistle to his horses.
Six pairs of ears Strengthened briskly,
the tagging hoofs picked themselves up
and quickened their pace, and every
horse began to pull so that we fell into a
smart trot. The horsewoman ahead
shook her bride, and without warning
her pony stretched into q sharp gallop,
and, as its flying feet struck the ground
she rose In the saddle like bird with q
light, easy, graceful motion of the shoul-
ders, and careless poise of the head.
So we passed one another in fine style,
and as she dashed along the road she was
quite an excitement to me. Her eyes
were dark, and her black hair hung in a
braid down her back and was tied with q
piece of red ribbon; her cheeks and lips
were rosy as the sunset that called the
blush to the mountain, and she had a
saucy cap on her head. She had witch
ing, catch-me-if-you-dare face, and she
flashed up at the box seat recognition
as she passed.
Tom poked his lazy head out of the
window to look after her.
'sDecentish looking girl, that; mettle-
some, I should say" he called to me.
"Just draw my attention in time when an
other such view heaves in sight.will your"
I saw the corners of the drivers mouth
jerking in a half smile. He clicked to the
collar, then fixed his gaze between the
<~ll Il 4
s"That's Rosie Maguire!'
sIndeedp' said, my eyebrows twist
ing into an Interrogation point.
"Yes'm; Tim Maguires daughter over
into the town, and as soon as we get this
mount and strike the Bunker grade we
will be there in less than an hour"
This is the way he began to tell me
the story, which, at near as I can, I shall
tell to you. I had the shifting scene be-
fore me, though the spot in which the
plot was laid and played, and the chief
actors were in my mind.
Rose Mcguire came into these parts
with her father when he opened the ho-
tel. Being without mother, she had
no bringing up, and early took to horses.
From little girl up, she never minded
whether horse was wild one or not.
Put her once in the saddle and she stuck
to it like cat. She knew her way among
the hills better than she did along the
lines of a brook, and day after day she
was out among them, riding about till
her fancy called her home. Had she
met danger in human form she'd have
shaken her horses heels in its face, and
been off on gallop before it could have
drawn breath. AS she came through the
town on her horse she was as we'll known
as the stage itself dashing up to the door
of her fathers hotel.
There wasn't a young man thereabouts
but had his eyes on Rose Mcguire for a
wife by-and-by, if she'd have him. But
Rose, she tossed her head at each and
all, though she threw glance at them
now and then from under her lashes with
look that was like spiced wine to thirst
justto keep them on string the little
firt
Among these admirers was a homely
fellow who'd have given hand and foot
for little Rosie-one John Winstanley by
name, but called, for short, Johnny Win.
IF every there was one man at whom she
snuffed up her little nose it was Johnny.
She ordered him to her stirrup, and
never noticed him when he came she
cut him dead without look, and again
speared him through with a glance !; she
smiled upon the veriest gocd-for-noth-
ipgs when he was near, and at times he
wished he was dog that he might shrink
into corner by himself, so hurt he felt.
He was one of the owners of the short
stage line, and not above taking the whip
himself when occasion demanded, and
many and many day he invited Rosie
for ride in the seat of honor by his side,
but she would only shake her head and
smile like the witch she was
iii ride in your stage when I get to
be lady and go for my wedding jour-
ney r she cried after him one day, and
on his return that night he met her walk
ing with fellow that had just opened a
store in town.
"Well, well = he said to Tim Mcguire,
after supper, ssfrom this time on it is
good-by, Rosie, with me. .
This speech was duly repeated to her,
and her chin went up in the air, her
cheek grew redder and her black eyes
brighter, and her dainty ears perked
anew in offended dignity.
Now hear to me, father" said she
sit is well that Johnny is content, and
tell him for me that your Rose is looking
higher up.''
In the beginning Of that winter it start
ed to rain, and it rained right along
through. The soil was soaked, and here
and there on the mountain sides the land
began to slide, and it was soft and dam
gerous thing to tread on. The little
streams that trickled along in summer SO