Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1890-02-01

C1AsAuCe III luis suSh CALdilcSS pflng lFOAA
another will than ours. Welcome, Allan,
son Of my old friend. Here we live as it
were in hermitage, with Nature for
our only Sriend, but such as we have is
yours, and for as long as SOU win take
it. But you must be starving, talk no
more. Stella, it is time for food. To-
morrow we will talk"
To tell the truth can recall very little
more of the events of that evening. A
kind of dizzy WEAKNESS overmastereG
me. / remember sitting at table ne,,
to Stella, and eating heartily, and then
remember nothing more.
awoke to find myself lying on a COM
Portable bed in a hut built and fashioned
on the same model as the center one.
While l was wondering what time it was,
a native came bringing some clean
clothes on his arm, and, luxury of luxu-
ries, produced bath followed from
wood. l rose feeling very different
man; my strength had come back again
to me. l dressed and, following COW
cred passage, found myself in the center
hut. Here the table was set for break
fast with all manner of good tlings, such
as had not seen for many a month,
which l contemplated with healthy sat
isfaction. Presently | looked up, and
there before me was a more delightful
sight, for standing in one of the door
ways which led to the sleeping huts was
Stella, leading little Tota by the hand.
She was very simply dressed in loose
blue dress, with wide collar, and girdled
in at the waist by little leather belt
In the bosom of her robe was bunch Of
orange blooms, and her ripping hair
was tied in a single knot behind her
shapely head. She greeted me with a
smile, asking me how l had slept, and
then held Tota up for me to kiss. Under
her loving care the child had been quite
transformed. She was neatly dressed in
q garment of the same stuff that Stella
wore, her fair hair was brushed; indeed,
had it not been for the sun blisters on her
face and hands, one would scarcely have
believed that this was the same child
that Indaba-zimbi and had dragged for
hour after hour through the burning,
waterless desert.
eve must breakfast alone, Mr.. Allan"
she said; "my father is so upset by your
arrival that he will not get up yet. Oh,
you cannot tell how thankful / am that
you have come. have been so anxious
about him of late. He grows weaker
| and weaker; it seems to me as though
the strength were ebbing away from
him. Now he scarcely leaves the kraal;
I have to manage everything about the
farm, and he does nothing but read and
| think"
Just then Hendrika entered, bearing a
jug of coffee in one hand and of milk in
the other, which she sat down upon the
table, casting look of little love at me
as she did SO.
"Be careful, Hendrika, you are spill
ing the Coffee" said Stella. Don't you
wonder how we come to have coffee
here, Mr.. Allan? I win tell you've
grow it. That was my idea. Oh, ]
have lots Of things to show you. You
don't know what we have managed to
do in the time that we have been here.
You see, we have plenty of labor, for
the people about look upon my father as
their Chief
EYES," said, "but how do you get
all of these luxuries of civilization" and
I pointed to the books, the crockery, and
the knives and forks. "
"Very simply. Most Of the books my
father brought with him when he first
trekked into the wilds; there was nearly
a wagon load of them. But every three
years we have sent an expedition OF
these wagons right down to Port Natal
The wagons are loaded with ivory and
other goods, and come back with all
kinds of things that have been sent Out
from England for us. You see, although
we live in this wild place, we are not al.
together cut off. We can send runners
to Natal and back in three months, and
the wagons get there and back in a year.
"Have you ever been with the wag
onss" I asked.
"Since was a child have never beer
| moro than thirty miles from Babyan's
Peak" she answered. "Do you know
Mr.. Allan, that you are, with one ex.
ception, the first Englishman that
have known out of book. / suppose
that must seem very wild and savage
to you, but have had one advantage
a good education. MY father has taught
me everything, and perhaps / know
some things that you don't. can read
French and German for instance ]
think that my fathers first idea was to
let me run wild altogether, but he gave
it up"
"And don't you wish to go into the
worldY' / asked.
Sometimes" she said, "when / get
lonely. But perhaps my father is right
perhaps it would brighten and bewil-
der me. At any rate, he would never
return to civilization. 1t is his idea, you
know, though am sure do not know
where he got 1t from, nor why he cannot
bear that our name should be spoken.
In short, Mr.. Quatermain. we do not
make our lives; we must take them as
we find them Have Won dome vour